Joshua and the Moon
Part One:
Our story begins a very long time ago. Before the street-lights started their war to turn night to day, before automobiles gathered and barked like stray dogs filling the streets. This was many decades ago, before you or I were born. Before our fathers and their fathers and even their fathers, there lived a very important man. This man was named Joshua, and though he didn’t know it, he would change the world.
There was nothing special about Joshua. He had been born into a family with too many mouths and not enough money, and like most people at the time, he had grown into a proud, if poor, man. He had spent his life working hard, feeding himself on his own sweat. Though still strong, he had grown tired in his old age, and had traded in the pick and plow for the life of a merchant.
Day in and day out he stood in front of his old shop, and joined the chorus of salesmen shouting the day’s specials to the crowd. His face was nearly as weather-beaten as the ancient wooden sign that hung over his shop’s door, but his voice was loud and strong. Joshua made a meager living, even by the day’s standards, and was looked down upon by the younger men in the community. Nevertheless, he worked hard and was often the first shopkeeper to open in the morning.
Joshua woke up every day before the sun came up. Though his bones ached and his mind was exhausted, he would dress in his finest clothes, which were nearly worn through. After dressing he would walk down, past the beach and past the harbor into town, stopping every now and then to gaze at the sunrise. He imagined it filling him with warmth and sometimes it seemed that his joints creaked less if he pictured it hard enough. When he turned the corner onto Market Street, he chuckled to himself as he imagined the other store owners still asleep in their beds. Most of them lived above their shops and only had to come downstairs to open up.
He quietly unlocked the door to his shop and carried out his displays. The street was silent, and he took a moment to enjoy it. In an hour or so, it would be bustling and noisy, as though thousands of birds had settled down to nest. From his right pocket he drew a pipe and a pouch of tobacco. Though his clothes were rags and his hat was lopsided, he was content for the moment to puff on his pipe and watch the gulls swoop and dive in the air over the harbor. He admired them for their freedom, and sometimes he secretly wished he could join their morning aerobatics, if only for a moment.
He waved at the other store owners as they opened up their shops, and when he smiled, his face crinkled up like old wax paper. The other shopkeepers scowled at him and shook their heads, but Joshua paid no attention. He would be cheerful even though he had nothing. Somebody had to smile, and none of these wealthy merchants seemed to want to, so he did. The problem with people today, he decided, was that nobody wanted to smile. He briefly wondered if it was because they thought they looked silly when they did it, but was forced to turn to business as the street began to fill with townsfolk.
Our story begins a very long time ago. Before the street-lights started their war to turn night to day, before automobiles gathered and barked like stray dogs filling the streets. This was many decades ago, before you or I were born. Before our fathers and their fathers and even their fathers, there lived a very important man. This man was named Joshua, and though he didn’t know it, he would change the world.
There was nothing special about Joshua. He had been born into a family with too many mouths and not enough money, and like most people at the time, he had grown into a proud, if poor, man. He had spent his life working hard, feeding himself on his own sweat. Though still strong, he had grown tired in his old age, and had traded in the pick and plow for the life of a merchant.
Day in and day out he stood in front of his old shop, and joined the chorus of salesmen shouting the day’s specials to the crowd. His face was nearly as weather-beaten as the ancient wooden sign that hung over his shop’s door, but his voice was loud and strong. Joshua made a meager living, even by the day’s standards, and was looked down upon by the younger men in the community. Nevertheless, he worked hard and was often the first shopkeeper to open in the morning.
Joshua woke up every day before the sun came up. Though his bones ached and his mind was exhausted, he would dress in his finest clothes, which were nearly worn through. After dressing he would walk down, past the beach and past the harbor into town, stopping every now and then to gaze at the sunrise. He imagined it filling him with warmth and sometimes it seemed that his joints creaked less if he pictured it hard enough. When he turned the corner onto Market Street, he chuckled to himself as he imagined the other store owners still asleep in their beds. Most of them lived above their shops and only had to come downstairs to open up.
He quietly unlocked the door to his shop and carried out his displays. The street was silent, and he took a moment to enjoy it. In an hour or so, it would be bustling and noisy, as though thousands of birds had settled down to nest. From his right pocket he drew a pipe and a pouch of tobacco. Though his clothes were rags and his hat was lopsided, he was content for the moment to puff on his pipe and watch the gulls swoop and dive in the air over the harbor. He admired them for their freedom, and sometimes he secretly wished he could join their morning aerobatics, if only for a moment.
He waved at the other store owners as they opened up their shops, and when he smiled, his face crinkled up like old wax paper. The other shopkeepers scowled at him and shook their heads, but Joshua paid no attention. He would be cheerful even though he had nothing. Somebody had to smile, and none of these wealthy merchants seemed to want to, so he did. The problem with people today, he decided, was that nobody wanted to smile. He briefly wondered if it was because they thought they looked silly when they did it, but was forced to turn to business as the street began to fill with townsfolk.