Poem: "A Marvel of Mechanical Skill"

[ysabetwordsmith]

This poem is spillover from the March 19, 2024 Bonus Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from zianuray. It also fills the "blacksmithing" square in my 3-1-24 card for the National Crafting Month Bingo. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with Dreamwidth user Fuzzyred. It belongs to the Shiv thread of the Polychrome Heroics series.


"A Marvel of Mechanical Skill"

[Monday, October 20, 2014]

Shiv puttered his way through
his morning routine, listening
to the faint sounds of Tolli and
Simon moving downstairs.

By the time Shiv ambled
out of his room, there was
fall breakfast scramble on
the table -- eggs topped with
a colorful jumble of squash,
sweet potato, kale, and pesto.

"Morning, Shiv," said Simon.
"Come get you some breakfast."

The sleepy Italians were huddled
in a corner, all of them clutching
enormous cups of coffee and
nibbling on sweet pastries
smothered with marmalade,
blackberry jam, or pear butter.

Shiv left them alone. He
didn't like to be bothered
before his coffee, either.

He did grab a hunk of
apple cake and a slice
of ricotta cake that he
slathered with jam.

"Got plans for the day?"
Shiv asked Tolli as he
sat down at the table.

"Fence needs mending,
if you don't mind helping
us with that, and of course
the usual chores," said Tolli.
"After lunch, we can visit
the Museum of Metallurgy."

"Oh ugh, I hate museums,"
Shiv bitched. "They're stupid."

Tolli blinked at him as if he had
just called chocolate inedible.

"Well now, that sounds like
grounds for a bet," Simon said
as he rolled to the table with
his plate. "Let's talk stakes."

Shiv hunched over his breakfast,
trying to distract himself. At least
the scramble was delicious, with
both savory and sweet flavors.

"The Museum of Metallurgy
is right across the street from
the Maritime Museum and
its famous seafood restaurant,"
said Tolli. "Then we've got
Polly's Painting Emporium,
the Hot Rod Metal Shop,
and Spike's Cactus Patch."

"Can't we just do those
instead?" Shiv whined.
"They actually sound fun."

He scarfed down ricotta cake
and caught the dripping jam
with his fingers just in time.
It was sticky and delicious.

"If you hate the museum today,
we'll do the others tomorrow,
and we're buying," said Tolli.

"So I don't get anything
good today, even after I
fix your fence?" Shiv said.

"Counterproposal," said Simon.
"If you hate the museum, we'll
take you out to eat seafood
today, then shop tomorrow."

"Deal," Shiv said, figuring
it was the best he'd get.

He stuffed the rest of
his breakfast in his mouth
and pushed away from the table.

The Italians split up, half going
to help Simon with the dishes
since it was his turn in the kitchen,
and the other half joining Tolli's team.

"Come, we fence," said the tallest.

Tolli laughed. "That's 'We'll mend
the fence,' folks," he said. "If you
just say, 'We fence,' then it sounds
like you're proposing a swordfight."

"Not right after breakfast," Simon said
without turning around from the sink.
"At least with the farm chores, you'll
have to walk the fence before deciding
what you need to make the repairs."

It turned out that a whole section
of the fence was sagging, probably
from the horses leaning on it or
using it as a back scratcher.

It took Tolli, Shiv, and the Italians
several hours to fix all the problems.

They took care of the horses, too,
and the other everyday chores.

Then Tolli urged Shiv to shower
and change clothes so that they
could head to the museum.

Grudgingly Shiv went upstairs
to wash. After that, he threw on
a fresh pair of midnight jeans.

Then, because he was still
pissed about the museum,
he picked out a T-shirt with
a cat holding a bloody knife.

Shiv was half-expecting to be
sent back upstairs to change,
but Simon just chuckled and
said, "That outfit suits you."

"I'm hungry, but I don't want
to delay the trip," said Tolli. "Let's
get catfish sandwiches for lunch."

Not even Shiv would keep bitching
when there was catfish on offer.
"Sounds good to me," he said.

So they hit a drive-through fryhouse
before heading on to the museum.

The sandwiches were damn good,
topped with spicy coleslaw, and
for drinks they got a cherry soda
called Cheerwine that came in
a neat glass bottle Shiv was
secretly determined to keep.

As they reached the parking lot
for the Museum of Metallurgy,
Shiv had to admit that the place
looked pretty impressive.

The building was made of
some pale stone with columns
and it had ornamental metalwork
everywhere -- across the doors,
on light fixtures, even the railing
along the wheelchair ramp.

There was also an area
set aside for demonstrations,
which currently held two people
dressed like Vikings as they
showed lost-wax casting.

Simon checked the times
on the sign, then shook
his head. "It's almost over,"
he said, "and the next session
is two hours later. We'll just
catch a demo another day."

Shiv hoped to be long gone
by two-hour mark, so fine.

They didn't even have to pay
to get in. The lady at the door
smiled and said, "Mr. and Mr. Finn,
it's good to see you here today,"
then waved them on inside.

"We're members," Tolli said.
"We love coming here, and
we can bring guests too."

Inside, the foyer had
more columns and arches
and a smart checkerboard floor,
but then there were the statues
tucked here and there, while
the big winding staircases had
gorgeous wrought-iron rails.

It was so huge, like two or
even three stories tall, that
it made Shiv feel small.

But it was so beautiful that
he didn't really care anyway.

Maybe this wouldn't totally suck.

"Tolli, Simon, hello!" someone called,
hurrying forward to greet them. He was
older, with ruddy skin, a quick smile,
and wild dark curls going gray.

He wore a turquoise plaid shirt
and gray trousers, but the soles
of his shoes were orange.

His belt was orange too, with
a buckle of tooled silver and
genuine turquoise that should
have looked gaudy but didn't.

"Shiv, this is Loukas Armati,
who works here as a curator
and a museum copyist," said Tolli.
"Loukas, Shiv is with us today."

Shiv hated introductions, so
he was looking everywhere
but at the stranger's face.

That's how he noticed the hands.
"You're a blacksmith," Shiv blurted.

"No, I'm a bronzesmith," said Mr. Armati.
"It's the same idea, but an earlier period."

"Huh," Shiv said. "I like bronze okay.
It's softer than I really want, but it has
this amazing flow for sculptures."

"That it does," Mr. Armati said
with a bright grin. "We have
a whole hall for bronzework,
and another for steel and iron.
If you're into metalwork enough
to have favorites, you'll love it."

Shiv looked away. He didn't
want to admit that he hated
museums and only came
because Tolli bribed him.

That way lay arguments
and getting kicked out, which
Shiv was pretty sure wouldn't
get him seafood or art supplies.

"Problem?" Mr. Armati said,
raising his bushy eyebrows.

"Past baggage," Tolli said,
shaking his head. "Nevermind."

"Not everyone has enjoyed
positive experiences with
institutions or authorities,"
Simon said with a sigh.

"Somebody ought to be put
in the bull," Mr. Armati muttered.

"Don't explain that," Tolli said hastily.

Shiv cocked his head. "Why not?"
he asked. "It sounds interesting."

"Gross history," said Tolli. "You
probably wouldn't like the abuse
of metalworking prowess."

"Eh," Shiv said, shrugging.
"History is boring too."

Well, except the stories
that Boss White told about
slavery days and the Resistance
of black folks fighting their chains,
but school never had the good stuff.

"Take a look around, and maybe
you'll find something interesting,"
said Mr. Armati. "If you need
anything, just let me know."

"Thanks, Loukas," said Tolli.
"We appreciate the attention."

Simon waved Shiv toward
the various doors leading
deeper into the museum.

"You lead today," he said.
"We'll go at your speed,
whether it's fast or slow,
and visit whatever you like."

"I don't even know what's
where in here," Shiv muttered.

"Here's a map," Simon said,
handing him a brochure that
unfolded into a floor plan with
all the main areas labeled.

"Mining and ... s-smelting,"
Shiv sounded out laboriously,
and picked the first door so he
didn't have to keep reading.

The hunks of ore and pieces
of crudely refined metal were
kind of interesting, and so
were the pictures on the walls,
but there was a ton of text, so
Shiv didn't spend long there.

Tolli and Simon didn't argue,
just stayed a bit behind him.

"Where to next?" Tolli said
as they left the mining hall.

"Uh, copper," Shiv said,
latching onto a word that
he actually recognized.

It's not what he expected.

He stared at the walls hung
with Native American artifacts.

Sure, there were others from
Europe and Asia and so on,
but the oldest ones came
from the Great Lakes Basin.

"I'm surprised Native Americans
invented metalwork," Shiv said.
"The history books all talked
about them being Stone Age."

"History books are written by
the winners," Simon said grimly.

"These go back about 9,500 years,"
Tolli said, "well before documented use
in the Mediterranean or Middle East."

"I did not know that," Shiv said.
He wondered if the folks up on
the Omaha Indian Reservation
knew about this stuff either.

Feeling uneasy, he decided
to move on to the next hall.

That one held gold, mostly
jewelry and other ornaments.

There was a lot of Viking stuff,
heavy and dramatic. It was
shiny, but Shiv wouldn't want
to be weighed down so much.
Pure gold was really heavy.

"Some of this reminds me
a bit of African artifacts,"
Simon said. "Twisted rings
and round plates for belts."

"I see what you mean,"
Tolli said with a nod.

Shiv had never seen
anything gold from Africa,
so he kept his mouth shut.

The silver hall had a whole wall
of nothing but weird old coins.

Tolli went on a tear about how
some of them were "debased,"
whatever that meant, and ways
it showed in the wear patterns.

Shiv nodded and pretended
to look at the coins, but he
wasn't really interested.

The next room was
more appealing, though.

That was the bronze hall,
which held a wide variety
of early artifacts from
all different cultures.

The one that really
caught his attention
was a big display case
with pieces of a statue.

It had a head, two hands,
two feet clearly wearing
sandals, and a bit of robe.

They were all mounted in
such a way as to suggest
the shape of a full body.

"The head really looks like
a person," Shiv said softly.
"The hair, the face -- this
was someone specific that
the sculptor knew, even he
was just the paying customer."

"That seems likely," said Tolli.
"This was recovered from
a Late Hellenistic shipwreck."

"It's beautiful, but sad too,"
Shiv said. "Such a great statue,
and now it's just a few pieces."

"The sea isn't kind to metal,"
Tolli said. "The divers were
lucky to find anything, let alone
pieces that go together like this."

"Yeah, I guess," Shiv said,
shaking himself a little. "I want
to see the iron and steel stuff."

The blacksmith hall was awesome.
Even Shiv had to admit that much.

The walls were lined with artifacts
from the early Iron Age onward,
and the middle held a display of
a whole forge with tools on its walls
and even a statue of a blacksmith.

"Look at these," Shiv murmured.
"You've got some of them, and
I've made some myself. These
are the same tools we use now!"

"Well, some things are just obvious,"
said Tolli. "You need tongs to handle
hot metal, a hammer to hit things with,
punches to make holes, and so on."

"Yeah, but this is an acorn swage,"
Shiv said, pointing. "It seems weird
to have something so specific that's
the same back then and today."

"Swage blocks date back
at least 3,200 years," said Tolli.
"Spring swages came later.
Acorn motifs have long been
popular on everything from
jewelry to weaponry."

They wandered around
the hall for a while, looking
at the displays and pointing
to things they recognized.

From there they moved
into the exhibits of blades.

They saw early swords
and later ones, along with
knives in all shapes and sizes.

"Woah," Shiv said, staring at
the samurai swords. "Lookit
all the layers on those things!"

"You can sense the folding?"
Tolli said, clearly impressed.

"Uh yeah, it's like ... the pages of
a book, pressed together, you can
see at the edges," Shiv said, trying
to explain something that he could feel
with his superpower more than just see.

"I look upon a well-finished Japanese blade
as a marvel of mechanical skill and of
perfect workmanship, as delightful
to contemplate as the grinding
and polishing of a speculum or
large telescope lens," said Tolli.

"Yeah, that," said Shiv. "It's like
magic, only not, because it seems
more magical when you actually
know how the blacksmith did it."

Simon chuckled. "Now you
sound just like Tolli does."

The contemporary hall had
examples of Damascus steel
in a bunch of different patterns.

The knives were sleek and
beautiful, marked with ripples
that reminded Shiv of oilslicks.

His fingers itched to try some.

Parts of the contemporary display
were unsettling, and others just funny.

Someone had made a whole dirgecraft
that hung overhead from wires which
seemed way too thin to support it.

"Dirgecraft of Damocles,"
Simon muttered as he
glared up at the thing.

Another display held
a set of little guys made
from railroad spikes.

They made Shiv smile,
even as he struggled
to figure out just how
the artist fit all of that
body language into what
were basically stick figures.

Then he spotted the horse.

It was actually just half of one
emerging from the wall as if it
was phasing through the barrier.

The sculpture was made entirely
from salvaged kitchen utensils --
spoons and spatulas, forks and
strainers and barbecue tongs.

It should have looked clunky, but
instead was fluid and powerful.

That made Shiv think about
some of the sculpture he had
made, where he wasn't trying
to catch the literal image but
rather the idea of a horse.

"You like this one?" Tolli said.
"It reminds me of therapy horses."

"Yeah," Shiv said, staring at it. "I
could do that. I want to do that."

"Normally I would say that's
a bit insulting to the artist, but
since you actually could do that,
it's a fair assessment," said Tolli.

"We can always hit the thrift shops
or salvage yards another day for
suitable materials," Simon added.

"I'm game for that," said Shiv.
He was already mulling over
different ideas he could try.

Then he found the hall that
looked like it was full of rocks.

"The hell?" he said, baffled.
"I thought we already did mining."

"We did," said Simon. "This one
is dedicated to meteorites."

"What's that?" Shiv said.
"They look like rocks to me,
even if they're kind of weird."

Tolli had that pinched look on
his face again, like he wanted
to belt someone but didn't
want to admit it out loud.

"Meteorites come from
meteors, also known as
shooting stars," he said.
"They're like rocks that fall
from the sky, from space, but
only some are actually stony.
Others are made of iron."

"Wow," said Shiv. "That
sounds far out, but also cool."

"The nickel-iron from meteorites
gave humans an early opportunity
to work with iron, long before they
learned to extract it from ore,"
said Tolli. "It's the truth behind
a lot of legends about swords
that could cut through anything."

"Because iron is so much harder
than copper or even bronze,"
Shiv said, making a leap of
connection. "It'd go through
them like a knife through butter."

"Exactly," said Tolli. "You
figured that out on your own."

They walked around the hall,
and the displays on the walls
were kind of cool, but Shiv
kept sneaking glances at
the huge one in the middle.

"Remember that if an exhibit
is out in the open, with no case
or rope, then it's okay to touch,"
said Simon. "The museum does
that to have something for people
with sensory differences, and kids
too young to understand preservation."

Shiv was already drifting toward
the giant space rock like he
had turned into a magnet.

It was almost black, but
a shiny black that made
him think of an oilslick.

The thing was lumpy
and full of holes. Some
he could have fit his fist into,
at least one was big enough
for his head, and another went
all the way through so he could
have stuck his arm through it.

"People like to take pictures
with their heads or arms inside
the meteorite," said Tolli. "There's
usually a bulletin board to hold
snapshots, but right now they
have an exhibit up there."

Hesitant but curious, Shiv
touched the meteorite.

It sucked him right in.

His superpower wandered
around inside it like a kid
in an amusement park.

He could feel how
the metal had bubbled,
and how it was shiny on
the outside because of
how hot it got while falling.

Some of the dings in it came
from hitting other space rocks.

Shiv could almost taste the way
that the nickel combined with
the iron, and now he would
know that mix anywhere.

There were huge crystals
running all through the metal
in a sort of lattice pattern as
the two slightly different alloys
came together and held hands.

Shiv kept stroking his mental fingers
over the design, wondering if he
could replicate it in charcoals
or maybe by kneading together
bits of scrap iron and nickel.

It was just so beautiful, how
the flakes of metal lay over
and under each other like
leaves in a forest canopy.

Suddenly a jangle of
moving metal jarred
his attention away.

Then Shiv realized
that Tolli was shaking
the keys between him
and the meteorite.

"What the fuck?"
Shiv snapped.

"It's getting late,"
Tolli explained.
"The museum will
close in half an hour,
so if you want to visit
the gift shop, then we
should go there now."

"How the hell did it get
so late?" Shiv said. "We
blew half of the day here?"

"You seemed really engrossed
in the meteorite," Tolli said.

"We agreed to go at your pace,
and you stopped here, so
we stayed," said Simon.

"Yeah, okay, we can
hit the gift shop now,"
Shiv said, still baffled.

As they walked back
toward the foyer and
the gift shop, Tolli said,
"So was this museum
stupid and boring?"

"Um ... no," Shiv said.
"It didn't suck much at all."

"I'll call that a win," Tolli said.

"Yeah," Shiv admitted. "I just
really liked the description of
those other places to try."

"No reason we can't do
them during another trip,"
Simon said with a grin.

"Let's do that," Shiv said.
"I want to see if they have
different supplies than home."

He was still smiling when
they met Mr. Armati again.

"Hello, Shiv," said the older man.
"I'm delighted to see you still here.
Did you find anything of interest?"

"Uh, yeah, the blacksmith stuff
was great," said Shiv. "I'm amazed
we still use some of the same tools."

"Some of them even date back to
the Bronze Age," said Mr. Armati.
"What did you think of the exhibits?
Anything that we could improve?"

Shiv boggled. He wasn't used
to anyone important asking him
for input, except Boss White
and that was different since
Shiv actually worked for him.

Something popped into mind,
though, and it was worth a try.

"Tolli told me there used to be
a picture board for the meteorite,
the big one, with snapshots of
people touching it," Shiv said.
"That would've helped. I get
yelled at for touching stuff, so if
there's pictures, I know it's safe."

"Even though you're typically not
a fan of cameras?" Tolli said.

"Yeah, pictures of other people
are fine by me," said Shiv. "It
helps to show what's okay or not."

Mr. Armati promptly pulled out
a notebook and made a note.
"Thank you for the input, I'll
juggle things around to put
the picture board back up."

Shiv couldn't help looking
at Tolli for confirmation.

"Yes, he'll really do that,"
said Tolli. "I was going
to suggest it if you didn't."

Tolli might not notice
everything like Dr. G did,
but he came damn close.

Shiv wasn't sure whether
that was reassuring or
nerve-wracking or both.

Yeah, probably both.

So he eeled out of
the conversation and
ducked into the gift shop.

It was such a riot of clutter
that Shiv had to stop and
take a deep breath just
to settle his head before
continuing inside the shop.

Okay, there were books,
statue copies, more books,
museum name souvenirs,
and some stuff on Raleigh.

One case was all full of
women's jewelry based on
things in the exhibits. Meh.

There was a whole bookcase
about metallurgy, and another
that was all history, and so forth.

Then Shiv spotted the big glass case
that was filled with meteorite materials.

Most of the tiny meteorites were rocks
rather than metal, so meh again.

But there were a few metal ones,
several books and pamphlets
about meteorites, and even
some jewelry made from them.

Shiv was maybe staring too much,
but he really liked the meteorites
and their prices were insane.

"Find anything you want?"
Tolli said. "Remember
that we have a deadline."

Shiv shrugged. "It's fine,
I don't really need anything."

"You sure?" Tolli asked.
"You've been staring at
that case for ten minutes."

"Everything's too pricey,"
Shiv said. "It doesn't matter."

"Why don't you point out
a few things that you like, and
I'll tell you if they're anywhere
near today's limit," said Toll.

"Give us a break, kid,"
said Simon. "We've got
years of spoiling you
to catch up on here."

Shiv gave a wild laugh
and pointed to the ring.

It was ridiculous, he didn't
need jewelry, but the thing
was just so ... gorgeous.

It had the dramatic pattern
that he loved on the outside,
but the inside of it had been
polished silvery and smooth.

Shiv wondered again if he
could copy it in metal, since
he'd have this for comparison.

"Excellent choice," Tolli said,
and beckoned the hovering clerk
to come unlock the case for them.
"That's a truly spectacular ring."

As soon as she opened the case,
Tolli fished out the ring for Shiv,
and then added a pamphlet
that talked about meteorites.

"Anything else, while we have
the case open?" Tolli said.

"No, uh, I'm good," Shiv said.
"More than good, really."

"Well, at least get yourself
a book or two, if you've seen
any that you like," said Tolli.

Shiv had no trouble picking out
Alloying: Understanding the Basics.
He doubted it was actually basic
but it should have some good stuff.

The books on Damascus steel were
sold out, but there was a rack with
smaller pamphlets and chapbooks.

Shiv got one of the pamphlets about
Damascus patterns and how to make
them, another that showed how to use
modeling clay to test new pattern designs,
and a bigger chapbook that illustrated
techniques for making actual words.

He only felt a little bit like a mooch,
since Tolli told him to look for books.

Shiv might not understand the text
very well, but these had great pictures
and he could learn patterns from those.

He handed the stack to Tolli and
said, "Thanks for the souvenirs."

"Any time," said Tolli as he put
them onto the checkout counter
beside his own pile of purchases.

Shiv drifted over to keep Simon
company while they waited. "It's
hard to believe we stayed so late."

"I'm just glad that you found this
engrossing enough to hold
your interest," said Simon.

"Yeah," Shiv said. "I
wasn't expecting that."

Then his stomach growled.

"It's a good thing that we're
heading out," said Simon.
"You can pick the restaurant."

"Carolina Gold," Shiv said,
"I saw it as we drove past.
Is that one any good?"

"Oh yeah, they make
great Charleston Red Rice,"
said Simon. "I'll tell Tolli."

"Tell me what?" Tolli said
as he came over with a bag
for Shiv and several more
filled with his own goodies.

"We're eating supper at
Carolina Gold," said Simon.

"Sounds good to me," Tolli said
as they headed for the exit.

Shiv realized that he should
probably say something nice,
and squeaked out, "I'm glad
that you suggested this place."

"Then it was a day well spent,"
Tolli said, putting a warm hand
on Shiv's shoulder. "That's good."

Shiv could maybe get used to that.

* * *

Notes:

This poem is long, so its character, location, and content notes appear separately.