Solo A Day's Work

[Quailin]

5th – 6th of Fall, 518 AV

There was a knocking on the door, and Quailin slowly stirred awake. The knocking grew louder, and Quailin dragged herself to the door, rubbing her eyes and groggily examining the man before her. The man was thin and dressed in some sort of scholar’s robe. The smell of wax candles and ash clung to the man. Quailin groans when she had identified the man, and scowls. “What do you want around this time of night,” questioned Quailin. He shoved a bag of coins into her hands, before practically dragging her into the next room over. The night was especially cloudy, and she squinted her eyes and examined the door. The rough slab of wood stuck to the wall with a metal piece of fastener was fine. She first opened and closed the door. There were no squeaks nor creeks when she tested the hinges. A sharp tug on the handle revealed that there was nothing wrong on the outside. Quailin groans in frustration. “What’s wrong this time again,” asked Quailin, “Please tell me that you were actually needing something.”

The man had quietly brought the candle to the door and brought her inside to reveal that the indoor handle had broken off. Quailin glares at the man, and gave a long, exaggerated sigh. She asked, “So is this why you were clawing and fumbling in your room?” She dragged herself to her room and fumbled in the dark to find her glue kit. She dragged herself over to the other room once more to set up the glue station. A small bucket of water. She had put the glue into the bath to soften the sheets of hide glue, before having pointed to the cooking pot. “Go heat that up and make me a bowl of soup while you are at it,” she commanded, “You owe me for waking me up at this time of night.” The man obeyed and started to cook soup.

A moment passed. She took the bucket and rested it by the cooking fire and waited for another moment. Another moment passed. She smears the hot glue on the door and the handle, before pressing the two together and holding it all with a vice for another moment. Another moment passed. She added the final layer of glue and waited for another moment. Another moment passed.

The final layer was hardened. She used a significant amount of glue, and the final layer left large blobs of glue that were unsightly. Quailin had given a sharp tug on the handle. The handle had not popped off, and she blinked a few times, before having taken a moment to take a seat and have a bit of soup. The man had carved his candle sculpture and looked up. He cocked his head towards the door, and stated, “It is sunrise. You’ll be late to the other guy.” Quailin nodded. She packed up her kit. And left.

Quailin had gone across the street to the other apartment complex and arrived at the room that her client had told her to go to. When she knocked on the door with stern taps, the door had fallen over. A man without clothes had been inside. The man inside fumbled into his overalls, without his shirt. She glared. He sheepishly laughed. He sighed, and began to ramble, “Ah, you must be Quailin. Yes. I- Um… Someone tried to fix the hinges. They tore the door out and had done a fix-up for where the hinges were attached. They didn’t really fix the door, just the wood where the hinges were ripped out from. And she was wanting you to install a lock if you could. I bet the landlord sent you… The landlord is checking on us today, so can you do this fast?”

Quailin sighed and nodded. She noted how the door was identical in whichever direction she turned it and said, “Be happy I am reusing this door, or I would charge you for wood.” First, she took a few small hinges and lined it up against the edge and hammered large nails into the wood. Several of the nails had gotten bent, so she used the nail remover and ripped out the nail and continued. In addition, the last hinge was slightly misaligned, and she was grateful to have caught this, removing the almost flush nail and re-aligned the hinge before finishing the first set of nailing. Next, she nailed the hinges to the frame, without regard for alignment. Then, she opened and closed the door, which was somewhat difficult due to sliding against the floor, but the door itself was functional.

The man tested the door and nodded. He chuckled, “I didn’t know a girl could be handy. Harder to move through. But it is a door.” When he attempted to shut the door, on the other hand, a crunch was heard. The door was opened to reveal that the nails had dug into the frame, indicating that Quailin had used Nails that were much too large. He raised an eyebrow and turned to look Quailin in the eyes. “It is a door.” She sighed, and confessed, “This is the first time I have dealt with hinges.” He had snorted and laughed. “Well, I never worked with these things at all. I make tools, I don’t use them.” He tossed her the two parts for the chain lock, and she went and took a small marking pencil to align the bottom of the two parts. She used more steadiness with the nails and hammered the chain lock into place without much effort. The man cleared his throat, and nodded, and had tested the lock a few times before having cocked his head towards the door. “The landlord will pay you,” he said, “so go along now, I need to make a few chains for the market.” He had pointed his thumb to the door, tapping his foot.

Quailin nodded. She packed up her kit. And left.