by Ramsey Isler
Sam went home that evening with an excitement she couldn’t remember having in years. Piv had had eight hours to tinker with the Chablon Method designs. She wondered if he might have two of the watches done by now.
After parking in the driveway, she slipped into the front door, tossed her keys on the couch, and turned into the garage. Despite her conscious efforts to calm herself, she couldn’t help but feel excitement pulsing through her as her heart rate quickened.
She found nothing, except Piv still staring at her spec sheets.
“Well,” she said, “this isn’t quite what I expected.”
Piv raised his weary eyes and said, “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. I figured...you know...maybe you’d be finished by now.”
Piv shook his head and went back to staring at the schematics. “I told you it was tricksy.”
“Yeah, but so was that Mustang engine.”
“That was different,” Piv said.
“In what way?”
“That was big,” Piv answered. “This is small.”
“So...you can’t build the small components?”
“I didn’t say that,” Piv said. “It will just take time to conjure up a way to get everything to fit together.”
“How much time do you need?”
“I don’t know.”
Sam sighed. “Well, keep trying. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“I will,” Piv said.
This was quite disappointing. But Sam realized that her disappointment was unwarranted. The elf had been given a few days to figure out what had taken Sam and her father nearly two years of planning to develop. She just needed to accept that elves weren’t quite the magic bullet she was hoping for. She’d have to learn more about Piv’s limitations.
Luckily, she had a manual.
She headed to her bedroom, unlocked her safe, and retrieved her father’s chronicle of the time he’d spent with Piv. She found the place where she had left off, and began to read again.
* * *
April 17th,
It’s been over two weeks since I first met Piv. We’ve spent that whole time in this little cabin and the woods surrounding it. It hardly seems as if the outside world even exists. Indeed, I find myself not caring if it did.
Piv has proven to be a quick learner. I really must arrange an IQ test for him later. He has nearly mastered all the basics of how his new radio works, in theory and in practice. Considering that he’d never even seen a transistor until we met, this is remarkable progress. Observing his natural genius energizes me. I’ve never felt so alive.
But each evening I fall asleep from pure exhaustion. I fight as hard as I can to fit in as many waking hours as I can with him. Eventually, sleep overtakes me. But when I awake, I invariably find him staring at me with his radio, or some part of it, in his small hands. I’m not sure if he ever sleeps, and he has not yet been inclined to answer any questions on that topic. But he has been quite forthcoming on other matters. He was very stubborn earlier, but now that I’ve spent time showing him the joys of technology, he’s much more open to talking about himself and his kind. I’ve earned his trust, and his respect. I’d forgotten how much those two things mean to me.
Here are some things I’ve learned about Piv:
- He doesn’t know exactly how old he is in human terms, but from his descriptions of his youngest days, he was here before the French settlers arrived in the 1700s.
- His diet mostly consists of water, berries, and bird eggs. He has a particular fondness for robin’s eggs (something about the blue color attracts him). He eats them raw, and it’s quite unnerving to watch him slurp the gooey contents from the shells.
- His people call themselves the Kith, a term that they claim they introduced into Old English many centuries ago (and thus giving birth to the old phrase, “kith and kin”). Yet, like most things that they have taught us, that term has fallen out of use over time.
- He has told me that humans used to be like them, a long time ago. But the big people turned away from natural things, and the Kith did the opposite. The big people went about learning to control nature, and the Kith went off to become a part of it. The elves—I’m sorry, the Kith (it’ll take some time to get used to that)—still remember these times, but humankind quickly forgot.
- Piv tells me that the Kith themselves deny that there are any serious differences between them, but I have noticed that each group does have some unique traits. In my past research, I discovered many different and distant cultures all had their own version of stories of “little people”. Native American folklore is full of such stories. For example, the Seneca people of the northeast had legends about the Djogeon—little people who live in caves or along streams. The Djogeon were considered to bring good fortune, and they warn humans about dangers. The Crow people of the Northern Plains revered little people known as the Awakkule. They were great helpers who provided spiritual guidance or medicines to worthy tribe members, but they were also legendary pranksters.
- Most of the Kith are similar in nature to Piv—good, curious, and kind, though perhaps more puerile than most humans would care for. In addition to this type, there are some Kith that prefer to be left completely alone, and they do their best to avoid humans at all costs. Finally, there are those who are mean and spiteful because their space has been invaded. These are the ones who actively seek to do harm to any humans they encounter. They seem to be small in number, but they are certainly here, and they are certainly dangerous. But, like all the Kith, they still respect the rights of all living things, so their malevolence is not always deadly.
- However, during my research I uncovered many stories of fearful tribes and villages that had lost warriors and travelers amidst reported sightings of strange, diminutive beings. The Bushmen of southern Africa told tales of the Cagn-Cagn—dwarfs who used their great numbers to defeat the benevolent trickster god Cagn. The Cagn-Cagn ate the god’s flesh once they overwhelmed him, but Cagn was soon revived and enacted terrible vengeance upon them, killing many and driving the rest into the mountains. Some of the bush people still refuse to visit the mountains at night because the Cagn-Cagn may eat them. Though much of this is surely fear mongering and the spawn of active imaginations, I have no doubt that a few of these tales have truth to them. Piv has been able to confirm the veracity of some of these stories, but others are unknown to him. He did, however, know about the current and long-standing fascination that the people of Iceland have with elves. I have spent many years following Icelandic newspaper reports of mysterious electronics failures in construction equipment when builders attempt to work on “known” elf territory. I traveled there once, and the Icelanders I met told countless stories of innocuous but strange happenings in and around Icelandic homes, and the residents just casually chalk it up to elves being elves. I searched all over that country, and although I did have some experiences that defied explanation, I never saw solid evidence of an elf. The elves there are apparently quite focused on their own activities and have no time for humans. Piv has told me that many of his kind like to go to Iceland at least once during their long lives; they see it as something akin to a pilgrimage to Mecca. Piv did not give me a reason for it though (I’m also not sure exactly how they get there).
These new revelations rattle in my head like loose screws. They seem to belong in there, and yet they don’t quite fit. My understanding of the world has changed forever. I have the knowledge I sought for so long, but it’s not what I expected. It will take some time for me to recover from what appears to be a mild case of ontological shock.
* * *
For Sam, the next day was much like the previous one. She went to work, fixed some watches, and assured Yusef that she was fine. Closing time came again and Sam returned home to check on Piv’s progress. After she walked in and fed Rupert, she stepped into the garage and found shiny strands of hair on the floor.
Black hair. Piv’s hair.
; She leaned a bit to peek around the optical comparator and saw Piv staring at her with a gigantic grin on his face and his hands behind his back.
Sam asked him, “Why...is your hair on the floor?”
“I cut some of it off,” Piv said. He took his left hand and removed his ever-present cap.
“Looks the same to me,” Sam said. Then she realized she’d never seen him with his hat off.
“I didn’t cut much,” Piv said. “Just a little.”
Sam stared back at the strands of hair on the garage floor. “Why did you decide to do it here?”
“It helps me think,” Piv said. “It’s kind of like pruning a tree. Very relaxing, and it helped me think.”
“O....kay then,” Sam said. “So you made some progress?”
“I would say so,” Piv said. Then he took his right hand, which he’d been holding behind his back for the duration of the conversation, and held it out in front of him. There was something in his hand. It was large and shiny.
It was a watch.
Sam’s insides fluttered. Piv had forged a flawless aluminum watch body that housed a beautiful dial face under a sapphire-crystal glass disk. The face displayed the current time and the day of the week, along with the current month and the corresponding sign of the zodiac displayed in a little icon. All of it was arranged in the exact layout Sam had designed. Piv clicked a button on the side of the watch’s case, and a magical thing happened. The dial numbers flattened and descended. The face itself, previously only slightly stippled, broke into a grid of dozens of tiny cubes that shifted into new positions and rotated, each cube revealing a new side painted a different color. New features appeared on the watch while old ones descended underneath the face or transformed into something else. When the sequence was complete, the watch looked completely different, and the time display that had been there just three seconds ago had been replaced by a star chart with the night sky in a deep azure hue, flecked with gold stars and outlines of the constellations stroked in bold white.
“You did it,” Sam whispered.
“I did it,” Piv said.
Sam reached out for the watch. Piv handed it to her carefully. She felt the heat from his hands on the metal. The watch was hefty, and the face measured about two and a half inches in diameter. Sam pressed another switch on the watch body and the magical transformation happened again. This time the star chart disappeared in a cascading sequence that shifted the dial from blue and gold to black and white. A large pictogram displayed the current phase of the moon. Several numerical dials appeared from somewhere deep in the inner workings of the device, and above them little icons indicated what the numbers were for: sunset and sunrise.
Sam laughed, but it was not her normal mirthful laugh. Tears started streaming out of eyes.
“Are you...sad?” Piv asked. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” Sam said. “That’s not it. You did a very good job. I’m not sad. I’m actually...very happy. I just never thought I would hold this. This is more than metal. It’s years. It’s dreams. So many dreams. My dreams, and my father’s dreams. Now it’s all real.”
“You cry when you’re happy?”
Sam sniffled and nodded. “Sometimes, yes. When we’re very happy.”
“Then I made you very happy then?”
“Yes, you did. Thank you so much. You’re amazing.”
Piv smiled. Sam continued to weep.
“I thought,” Sam said through her tears, “I thought you said you needed more time. You said it was tricky.”
“I did, and it was,” Piv said. “But I had a piffany.”
Sam paused for a moment, then said, “A what?”
“A piffany,” Piv repeated.
“You mean...an epiphany.”
“Yes, one of those. It was all so simple after that.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. Do you think you can make more?”
“I am certain of it,” Piv said. “It won’t take as long as either.”
“Do you think you’re ready to start working with better materials? You did a great job with the practice test, but this is aluminum and steel in places where it should be gold and titanium.”
“That should not make much difference,” Piv said. “The hard part was figuring out the mechanicals.”
“Good,” Sam said. “I’ll get you some new materials and you can start doing this for real.”
“Very well,” Piv said.
Sam reached out, pulled Piv’s slender body into her own, and hugged him.
“Thank you so much,” she said.
“You are very welcome,” Piv said. “I hope to make you cry some more soon.”
* * *
Piv continued his work over the next two days with a speed that amazed Sam. Just as he had said, he was much faster now that he’d had his “piffany”. Sam came home one evening to find the elf polishing six beautiful watches.
“They look fantastic,” Sam said as she held her hand up. “High five!”
Piv smiled and slapped her hand enthusiastically, though he had to stand on tiptoe to do it.
“So you do know what a high five is,” Sam said. “Right after I said it, I thought you might give me another one of your blank stares, but you actually knew a human custom for once.”
Piv nodded. “Samuel taught me. Just as he taught you. I remember you two would high five all the time.”
“Yes. We did. How often were you there...when I was little?”
“I was never around you for long,” Piv said. “Samuel was always very protective of you.”
“True,” Sam said. Memories of her father came to mind and brought a surge of emotion. She shut it out quickly, and blinked away the sudden moisture in her eyes. “So,” she said, “I guess the next step is to figure out what to do with these little marvels.”
“Sell them?” Piv said.
Sam smiled. “Yes, but we’ve got to set things up before that can happen. I need some business connections and another investor if we’re going to...”
Then an idea blossomed in her mind, an unexpected thought that opened up countless branches of opportunities. She fished her cell phone out of her pocket, flipped through her contact list, and chose a number.
The phone rang five times before the person on the other line picked up. “This is Hamilton.”
“Hey, this is Sam Chablon. I know it’s a little past business hours, but you did say call anytime.”
“Indeed I did,” Hamilton said, his voice growing more pleasant. “What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you might be free for a meeting later this week,” Sam said. “I have something to show you.”
Chapter 9
Light spring rain sprinkled over Birmingham. It wasn’t enough to dampen the spirits of the small city’s residents, but it was enough to encourage many of them to seek refuge indoors instead of enjoying the glorious freedom from winter that the previous weeks had brought.
Sam arranged to meet Hamilton in one of the small but popular cafes in her area. The weather had kept the weekend lunch patrons inside a little longer than usual, and as Sam approached the place, she saw a large crowd inside. She wondered if Hamilton would be able to secure a table. But when she stepped inside, she saw he was already there, holding a table for them.
“It’s good to see you again,” Hamilton said. He pulled out a chair for Sam.
“Same here,” Sam said as she sat down and placed her backpack in the seat next to her.
“Have you changed something?” Hamilton asked. “Done something with your hair maybe?”
“No,” Sam said. “Why?”
“You just look very different.”
Sam ran her fingers through her hair, just to make sure Piv hadn’t done anything to it. “The hair is the same as it’s always been. I just went through the same old wash and wear routine.”
A slender waiter dressed in red and white approached them with a sparkling smile and a bottle of overpriced water.
“What what is?” Sam asked.
“The change that made you seem so different.”
“What is it?”
“You’re smiling,” Hamilton said. “A lot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that. Granted, I’ve only known you for a small amount of time. But I have to say the difference is remarkable.”
“Ah,” Sam said. “Well I’ve had a lot to smile about these past few days.”
“I assume that’s why you wanted to meet with me today.”
Sam nodded. “I have a proposal for you.”
“What kind of proposal?”
“A business proposal.”
Hamilton chuckled. “It’s always nice to see a young woman with the entrepreneurial spirit. What are you thinking?”
“Better Timepieces is going to move into the luxury watch business.”
Hamilton raised an eyebrow. “But...you’re already in the luxury watch business.”
“Fixing watches,” Sam said. “But not making them. That’s going to change.”
“Interesting,” Hamilton said as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“Is that all you have to say?” Sam asked.
“No,” Hamilton said. “What you’re talking about would require an extraordinary amount of work. We’re not exactly in the old days of Louis Cartier. There are multinational corporations in this game and the competition is steep. It would take a lot of work and money just to get a convincing prototype built, and no serious investor is going to want to jump in unless you have a prototype.”
“I already have a prototype,” Sam said.
Hamilton’s graying eyebrows shot up. “Fully functional?”
Sam couldn’t help but smile like an idiot as she said, “Absolutely.”
“Is it ready for serious evaluation?” Hamilton asked.
Sam nodded. “I’ll put it up to any test you want.”
