NeedleworksNeedleworksThe clock in the hallway ticked and tocked relentlessly as it had for countless years. Lawrence Benes looked up from his desk and glared out the doorway of the study and into the face of the offending mechanism.
He pulled off the small round glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief and settled them firmly on his nose once more.
Tock, tock, tock, tock.
Why was it so infernally quiet around here? He started to open his mouth and call for his wife, then he remembered she had left about an hour ago to ‘pick up a few things’ as she put it. That meant she could be gone for hours. His oldest daughter was coming round this weekend with that young man she was seeing now and the beast seemed to have every food allergy known to mankind so Diane was constantly having to rethink the menu. Hopefully this one wouldn’t last any longer than any of the others.
Tick, tick, tick, tick.
That old clock had never bothered him before. He looked out the window at the gray afternoon. Well, the house had once been noisier with the girls and various and sundry of their friends constantly clattering up and down the stairs. With Sandra on the moon and Julia at that summer camp, he had the house to himself. How was he supposed to concentrate in all this quiet? Restlessly he stood and made his way out into the hallway, put on his coat and hat and headed out for a walk.
He paced quickly down the sidewalk, his thoughts on that email from his most remote child. It was evident she liked her job on the moon, but her homesickness showed through as well. He wondered what she had told her mother? Diane never discussed her emails with Sandra, even though he made broad hints by reading his own messages from her out loud. He still didn’t see why Sandra couldn’t have gotten a sensible post a bit closer to home. Let others go out there and take the horrid risks. They could send the data back to her for her research.
He found himself in the heart of the shopping district. Just ahead was the little shop that had always been a stop for Sandra and Diane whenever they were shopping. He’d never paid much attention to their oohing and ahhing over new window displays or new designs. He remembered a young Sandra trying to explain the mathematical aspect of the grid used to create the designs. Her eyes glowed as she talked of how color gave a whole new dimension to the math. In fact, he’d been sitting on that bench over there in the park when he made the breakthrough for the interstellar strength communications device that had placed him securely on the path to a Nobel prize. She had been chattering on while she swung her feet and clutched the bag with her latest project and the solution had presented itself to him, cut from whole cloth as it were.
With a wave of nostalgia he turned and entered the narrow shop, barely wide enough for a door and a display window. He looked around, completely out of his element. One wall held a criss cross of shelves, each cubby bulging with brightly colored skeins of yarn. The opposite wall held a wide array of brightly colored wide weave canvases, everything from traditional looking medieval tapestries with unicorns and suchlike to geometric designs in bright colors. Near the ceiling was a huge painting of Noah’s ark with animals debarking onto the rocks as the flood waters receded.
“May I help you?” A tiny woman with thin hair dyed a horrid shade of red appeared at his elbow.
“I…” He hesitated, something he seldom did. “I wish to make a purchase. A present for my daughter.”
The woman gave a nod, then looked more carefully. “You’re Dr. Benes aren’t you? Your wife was by just the other day. She and the girls are some of my best customers.”
Knowing the state of his wife’s ‘hobby nook’, an alcove on the third floor of their old house, across from the library, that was no exaggeration. “I dare say.”
“Which of your daughters? Mrs. Benes was telling me just the other day how happy Sandra is up on the moonbase.”
“Yes, for Sandra. I want to send her something.”
“Well, I know the kind of things she likes.”
“I prefer to select the item myself,” he bristled. He moved along the wall, seeing all the different canvases. That Noah’s Ark wasn’t right at all. Ah, there it was, a classic scene. The Acropolis. It was easily recognized on the canvas. The classical aspect appealed to him. “This one.” He tapped it impatiently. “She’ll need all the string and things to go with it. Can you wrap it for mailing for me?”
“Oh, Dr. Benes. That’s not…”
“I want post it to her this afternoon.”
“But…”
“If you cannot accomplish this, I can take my business elsewhere.”
“No, no, I’ll be happy to wrap it up.” The little woman took the canvas from the wall and the hank of yarn from behind it. She took them to the counter at the back and quickly wrapped the bundle from him, suggesting an assortment of needles to accompany it.
“Of course, whatever she may need.”
The sale was accomplished quickly and efficiently, just the way he liked it. He headed briskly to the post. He had work to do, that infernal clock notwithstanding.
… on the moonbase
Sandra’s eyes went wide when she retrieved the package from the window in the supply section of Alpha. She recognized her father’s neat hand in the address and return address. He had sent her a package? Usually her stepmother handled such mundane matters. Was she unwell? Was something wrong?
She took the package back to her quarters and set it on the table. She stared at the address label for a while, as if her father’s intentions could be decoded from the handwriting alone. She opened it up. Inside the brown paper wrapping was a carefully folded needlepoint canvas in shades of beige and white and brown. It was not something she herself would have chosen, or Diane. She put her hand to her mouth. He had gone to the local yarn shop and chosen this himself? That was the only explanation. Her stepmother would never have let him select this. And Edla at the shop would never have the courage to tell him that she always chose cross-stitch over other kinds of needlework.
Tears came to her eyes and a wave of homesickness overcame her. He must really miss her.
ECL