Finally, the Destination
“But… we don’t have any money to buy paints.”
“I’ve already taken care of that.”
Meyer placed a box in front of Leon. Inside were paints, a palette, and three fine brushes.
“These are your tools, Leon. I’d like you to paint fifty sheets for me—one for each month. Twelve of them will make a year. Try painting themes that match the seasons—say, one set with animals and another with plants or flowers. So, twenty-four paintings in total to start with.”
Leon stared at the brand-new watercolor set.
“Are these really… for me to use?”
“Of course. It’s part of the job. I won’t be asking for the money back later. Oh—and Mike, you’ll be carving the calendar months as woodblock prints. This carving knife set is yours.”
Meyer placed a set of carving tools in front of Mike.
His eyes lit up—so, he must really like carving or printmaking.
“Will the calendar start from August?”
“Yes. It’s early July now, so August would be ideal. But if that’s too soon, you can start from September.”
“No, August will be fine.”
“Are you helping out anywhere else right now?”
“I’ll have someone cover for me, so it’s fine.”
“Sister, how much do they earn per month for their part-time work?”
“One silver coin.”
“Then, for this month, I’ll pay them two silver coins each as a commission.”
“That’s far too much!”
“One coin is their pay. The other is for the kids who’ll cover for them—and maybe for everyone to share something nice to eat.”
“Are you sure? Even before the work is finished?”
“It’s fine. This is a first attempt, after all—mistakes are expected. Think of these fifty sheets as a trial run.”
In the carriage after leaving the orphanage—
“Adding paintings to a desk calendar, huh? Clever idea.”
“Well, numbers alone are dull. To make it stand out from the wooden calendars, I figured illustrations would do the trick.”
“The wooden ones last indefinitely, but the paper ones change monthly—so people would buy them for the seasonal drawings, animals, flowers… basically whatever theme they like.”
“Exactly. Sounds fun, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Still, I’m surprised you found such a talented artist among the orphans.”
“The newsletters they print sometimes have illustrations, and I thought they were interesting. When I asked around, I heard one of the kids was the artist, so I decided to check it out. I didn’t expect him to be that good, though. He’ll probably struggle with watercolor at first, but I’m sure he’ll pick it up fast.”
“Finally—finally—we’ve arrived at the woodworking shop.”
“Hearing you say that is rare, Raphael.”
“Well, you said we were going to a woodworking shop, but you dragged me all over town first.”
“Sorry about that, Haul. This was a bit sudden.”
“No, not at all. Thank you for approving our wooden calendar project.”
“Hey, it’s something no one else thought of—you should be proud of that.”
“Thank you very much.”
“I came today with a proposal.”
“Not about the patent application?”
“That too—you should file for one. Calendars are easy to copy.”
“Yes, Westland Company advised the same. We plan to apply soon.”
“Good. Now, onto the main topic—how about creating a premium version of the wooden calendar?”
I took out a coaster made from rainbow fish scales. “Let’s collaborate with this village.”
“A collaboration?”
I proposed using rainbow fish motifs for the carvings and accents on the desk calendar’s frame.
“You can decide whether to handle only the border carving while leaving the scale inlays and glossy finishing to them, or to do all the carving as well—whatever suits you best. Oh, and I thought it might be fun if the date markers were made from rainbow fish scales too.”
“I see… I’d like to see their design first.”
“Got it. The desk calendar will be a smaller model, though—will that be a problem?”
“No, I think it’ll be fine.”
“Could you make a trial run of twenty units? I’ll send them to our partners.”
“Understood. I’ll start right away.”
“And one more thing—could you make this too?” I handed him a piece of straw paper with a sketch of a stand for the paper calendars—an isosceles triangle with two holes at the top.
“I can make it, but may I ask what it’s for?”
“A stand for paper calendars.”
I explained, pointing at the sketch.
“Ah, so the two holes are for inserting rings to hold the calendar pages and flip through them?”
“Exactly. It’s also for desk use—just one month per page—so the demand might not be huge, but could you make a few?”
“Of course. How many should I prepare?”
“Let’s start with five. If it sells well, I’ll order more.”
“Understood. I’ll contact you as soon as they’re ready.”
What do you think about this chapter?
