CHAPTER 2
THE INVENTOR'S DAUGHTER
Belle sighed and rested her chin on her hand as she turned the last page of the book she was reading. She set it on the side table next to her. How she wished that her life was more like the stories she read about!
"Dear one, would you lend me a hand for a moment?" Her father's voice came from the direction of the kitchen.
"Coming, papa!" Belle left the plush armchair and went to see what her papa was up to now. When she entered the kitchen, she saw his head ensconced in the cabinet below the sink. One hand groped around on the countertop above, but the wrench set there remained just out of reach. Belle hurried over and picked it up.
"Looking for this, papa?" She asked as she placed the wrench into his hand."
"Merci, my dear. I forgot to bring it down here with me."
"And what are you doing now?" Her papa was always inventing something that frequently required him to disassemble things that she thought were working just fine.
"I'm just installing this pipe to bring water into the sink from this bucket below the sink."
"Is that my well bucket? How will I bring the water inside the house from the well?" Belle asked with a laugh in her voice.
"Oh, well, you see, umm, I didn't quite think of that, but we'll just have to get another bucket. Would you look for one when you go into town today?"
"Yes, of course. Let's see we need bread, eggs if they're not too expensive, and now a new bucket."
"Don't worry, my dear. I'm almost finished with my newest invention and once people see what it can do our money troubles will be over!"
Although she'd heard that line before, Belle smiled and merely said "Yes, papa." She gathered her things and left for the short walk to the village. As she walked, she imagined she was on her way to meet a handsome prince who would sweep her away to a life of travel and adventure.
"Well, hello, beautiful," a masculine voice said from the copse of trees ahead.
Ugh, Belle thought. "Hello, Baxter," she said as he stepped onto the trail carrying a string of dead birds. Belle wrinkled her nose but said nothing. She did not want to encourage a conversation with the odious Baxter.
"You're looking lovely, as always."
"Thank you."
"As you can see, I'm just returning from my latest hunt. I brought down these three plump and lovely geese. Any lady would love for these to grace her dinner table. I never return empty handed. After all, I am the greatest hunter this town has ever seen."
"Hmm," Belle murmured noncommittally. The town came into view as the road curved around another grove of trees, and Belle quickened her steps eager to escape Baxter company.
"Not to mention, the greatest looking and strongest as well. The gorgeous lady who is lucky enough to be my little wife will surely enjoy the view."
Belle rolled her eyes. Was he actually flexing right now? Who did he think that was going to impress?
"And do you know who that little wife will be?"
Belle was surprised that Baxter had managed to stop talking about himself long enough to propose to someone. She felt a moment of pity for the poor girl who would be trapped in a life with his arrogance, still most of her acquaintances didn't dream of escaping this place and she supposed Baxter could support a wife well enough. Realizing that Baxter had stopped speaking and was waiting for an answer she belatedly said, "Oh who?"
"Why you, of course! Once we're married you won't need to worry about the things the townsfolk say about you and your father. I'm sure they'll accept you once you're busy raising our strapping boys."
Belle stopped in the middle of the road. She couldn't have heard him right. Was he seriously proposing when they'd only had a handful of one-sided conversations?
"I can't possibly marry you, Baxter !" She blurted and started walking again, faster than ever.
"And why not? You won't find another man who is willing to overlook your family's eccentricities."
"I want more than the life you can offer me. I'm going to get out of this town and have adventures like the ones in my books!" She waved the book she was carrying in the air for emphasis.
"Oh, those books. Once we're married you won't have time for those anymore. And good riddance, filling your head with ridiculous notions."
They reached the town, finally! Too bad it was too late to save her from Baxter's ridiculous proposal.
"Baxter , I will not marry you. Now if you'll excuse me, I must see to some errands for my father." Belle entered the first shop at the edge of town and shut the door behind her. Thankfully, it was the bookshop and Belle knew that Baxter would never follow her inside there. He wore his ignorance as a mark of pride. Still, she peeked out the window until she was sure he had left.
Once she returned home, Belle found a safe place for her new bucket before she found a cozy spot to curl up with her new book. She lifted the top of the window seat and pulled out a soft blanket to keep her legs warm while she read.
Maurice opened the back door with a flurry, clapped the dust off his heavy gloves, and stomped on the wooden step a couple times before entering the room. He walked over to the dying fire and took off his coat and gloves before holding his hands out toward the embers.
Looking over his shoulder, he smiled as he watched Belle from under his bushy white eyebrows. She shifted positions, shivered slightly, and pulled a pillow alongside herself as she turned a page. Maurice hugged himself and cleared his throat loudly, grumbling something that sounded like, “brr”, and rubbing his arms noisily.
Belle looked up. “Are you cold, Papa?” She marked her page with a handbill that had been shoved at her in the marketplace, set her book on the window seat, and reached for her warm woolen cloak. She pulled the hood up around her face and patted him. “I’ll go fetch some firewood.”
“It’s all used up. I just came in from hauling a new log over.”
“What?” Belle stopped before opening the door. “We should have had enough to last the rest of the season.”
“Well,” Maurice nodded, “it’s been a long winter. Go back to your book. I’ll go out in just a minute and chop some wood.”
“No, Papa, you’ve been working all day. I can do it.”
He put his coat back on and followed her outside, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Belle stared in wonderment as her father set up his device.
“All right now, Belle, if you’ll just start that crank a-goin’ at that end, it should show you what it is!”
Belle obeyed. As she wound the crank, the axe began to move up and down, but nothing else happened.
“Oh!” Maurice let out a little yell. “The rope is slack. Wind it until the rope is taut. That’ll do it!”
Belle gave the handle a few more strong cranks and then the whole log moved toward her. The axe chopped a chunk of wood just the right size for the fireplace. Belle reached for the crank again, but Maurice had wound the rope in such a way that it reversed on itself and kept going without any human assistance. Pull and chop. Pull and chop.
“An automatic wood chopper! Papa, how wonderful! How did you ever think of such a thing?”
“Well, my darling girl, I’m getting too old for this much chopping, and a young lady as beautiful and smart as you shouldn’t have to work that hard just to keep the house warm.”
“But Papa, I can do it just fine.”
“You sure can, my Belle. Only you do so much already. You haul the water in from the well. You bake goodies and cook meals. You run the errands. You shouldn’t have to do wood chopping on top of everything else.”
“Oh, thank you, Papa! It’s a marvel. This truly is your best invention yet!” Belle stopped talking with an odd look on her face. “Wait a minute.”
She ran into the house and brought her bookmark back outside. “Papa, look!”
The handbill read:
Join the Industrial Revolution Today!
Bring your inventions to the
Alsace Regional Exhibition
February through June 1756
Strasbourg, France
Maurice gazed up at his daughter. “Belle, do you really think I could?”
“Of course, Papa. This invention could help every villager in Europe! We all need firewood and Strasbourg is only thirty miles away.”
“But my Dear, will you be all right while I’m gone? The travel alone will take a week and I’ll have Phillipe with me.”
“I will be fine. Nothing ever happens in this little town, anyway. I’ve got my books and I’ll catch up on all my chores. I won’t need to go anywhere with the horse. Just bring me back something beautiful from your trip."
First draft of this chapter was written by my sister, Becky Walton and my mom. Becky wrote the first part and my mom wrote the second part. I think it goes together perfectly!
Illustrated and Edited by me.
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