“I like them fine.” He examined her in the waning light and found a belligerent thrust to her jaw he hadn’t noticed before this, and a blurred, aggrieved look to her face.
“You’re not going to be a nasty drunk, are you, Carolyn?”
“I will if I want to. It’s my place.”
“Uh-huh. But I don’t have to stay here. My sheets look pretty dry. I could just take them and leave you to change the diapers on your baby every hour all night long.”
And he would have too, except that no sooner were these words out than she burst into tears, horrible, hopeless wails, and, like the decent guy he was, Al Crosetti went around and knelt by her chair and held Rolly while she shook and soaked his shoulder with her tears.
THE BRACEGIRDLE LETTER (2)
So to begin, asking always the favour of almighty God to keep me stricktlie on the path of truthfullnesse as I have muche of the olde Adam in me as thou knowest & mayhap I have told you som of it before nowe, yet you may forget and, which God foirbid, die before oure lad hath reached the age of understanding, soe it is better wrote down.
My father was named Richard his family the Bracegirdles were from Titchfield in the Weald, & iron-makeres from an earlie tyme. My father being but a youngere sonne was sent prentice to his nuncle John Bracegirdle who wase iron-factor at Leadenhall. Haveinge done with his prenticeshippe he removed to Fish Streete hard by Fenchurch Street & set hymselfe to be a factor in ironworkes. He throve there oweing to his goode connexiones with the Tichfield Bracegirdles & no lesse I thinke for his haveing a goode head for trade. He wase a grave & sober man, of little learning but a ready witte. Aetat 22 he wase converted to the true Christian religion by Gods grace & the sermons of Dr. Abernathy of Water Street & thereafter lived a blamelesse lyfe. He was bye & large a generous Christian man & no wretch left his doore unfed if he would heare a little of the Word of God: although he could not stande a papiste. All though he traded in the ordinary pots, kettels firebacks, &c his chiefe werke was in bells & gonnes. He oft hath sayde that if a man disired to make a greate noyse in the worlde whether in peace or in warre he had best hie hym to Bracegirdles of Fish Street.
My mother wase called Lucinda. Her family were Warwick-bred & of a higher estate than his, being gentry of the place & related to the Lord Arden: but distantly, distantly as my father all ways sayde. Her father Thomas Arden wase attainted traitor the 10th year of our late Quene Elizabeth & lost all: afterward, her mother dieing she, aetat eight yeares, wase taken in by Margaret Brandell an aunt of Cheapside. As a girl my mother was prettey enough yet wase not thought a match for any of worshippe in her native countie for not having a groate & the attainder besydes & wished verey much to leave the auntes home: a verey Godly woman so my mother sayde but kept a leane tabel & stanke. It chanced she bought a fyreback from my father on a day, and twelvemonth after were married in St. Giles Cheapside & lyked one another wel enow. She wase not at first of the trew reformed religion but later she came to it: for the man is the heade of the woman as is written in Scripture.
Now after many fervente prayers I wase born on the fifte day of March in the year of Our Lord 1590 for they had by the unknowable judgement of Almightie God lost to fevers three children all infantes yet I wase a lustie babe hale as an ox soe I am told & survived to man’s estate through Gods grace. My mother hadde three more children one lived to six the others not past a yeare, leaving me alone to rise to manhoode. At four yeares I wase put to dame school on our street & learnt my letteres well enow & afterward my father sent me as a scholere to Mr Eddingstone in Deal St where he had hym a scole. It wase my fatheres fancie to breed me up a learned man mayhap a divine but such wase not to bee, for I wase I admit froward & would not learn my Latine far less Greeke: hic haec hoc wase all a muddel to me. Once I asked Mr Eddingstone why it wase, we having englished the Bible we had to learne the tongues of paganes after all but I wase whippt for it & not only that time: & at laste he told my father it would not doe, I wase borne a foole & would remaine so. Then quoth my father what shall we doe with you, why did God send me such a block-heade for a son, can we make a factor of you, pray God at leaste you have a cleare hande. So wase I put to copeying but my hande wase soe crabbed & I made soe many blotts that he wase in dispaire for me. A blacksmythe you shalbe then & earne your bread by the sweat of your browe he sayde a mere blacksmythe for your back is stronge I see and youre handes are all readie black as a smiths with your blottynges: at that my mothere weepeth. She wase ever kinde to me even beyonde the measoure of a woman to a childe, the moreso as my father wase displeazed with mee.
A thinge then happened that changed all, how wondrous is Gods plan for us his creatoures all though we cannot fadom his wayes at the tyme. For we had then a lodger Mr Wenke: from Leiden came he being a nephew of a man that my father did trade with in ironworkes. We laboured chayre by chayre in my fatheres counting-house & one day I saw him doeing workynges with a little pensille & a scrap & I quized him what are you about sir. He sayde look & see. I looked but I could not mayke it out. I will saye now what it was: he was casting sums for our accountes in a fashioun I never saw before, but he kindley instructed me thus: look you we have solde seven & eighty smalle kettels this quarter for 8s. 6d. each & on each profiteth 1s. 2d. What have we gathered in all & what is our gaine? I sayde we must use comptoirs for that, shall I fetch the board? Nay quoth he I can doe it without anie comptoirs & do you watch me as I write & I shall expound upon my methode. Soe he did & I wase amazed so quick did his pensille fly & the grosse & profit all clare & exact. He sayde this is Multiplicatioun by Algorithme a word I never before this moment hearde & he sayde further it is but part of the art Arithmetick lately uzed in the bancks & compting-houses of Hollande & Italy: wold you learn it boy for it shalbe to your verie greate profit? I sayde yea with all my harte.
3
I’m back from a tour of the grounds, nothing visible from any of the windows, and I don’t really feel like wandering around out there again in that dark. It occurs to me that I am a perfect target sitting here at my laptop under a table lamp. I’m in the living room, I suppose you could call it, of this house. A lodge, really, built of actual logs in the traditional manner. There is this one large room on the first floor and three bedrooms on the upper floor, which one reaches by a stairway that leads to a kind of railed balcony above me. Then there’s a garret-type thing in the roof peak you get to via a drop ladder. The servants used to sleep there, when they had them. The walls are all pickled pine, and there are bookcases built in and a nice stereo system and a fieldstone fireplace that is literally large enough to roast an ox. A small ox. I have a fire going now, made from the good supply of oak, birch, and pine stored in the woodpile outside the kitchen door. Moose heads and racks of deer antlers decorate the base of the balcony, proof that, as Mickey has informed me, the Haas men were mighty hunters back in the day. There’s a full kitchen with stone floors and a full array of ’50s appliances on the first floor, and a couple of baths. Mickey installed a hot tub on the deck outside, although it’s drained now. I got the impression he doesn’t use the place much, although when he was a kid the family came up here every summer. It was a rich-family thing to do, apparently. I’ve been here many times before. When we were both young studs we used to bring girls for romantic weekends.