Chapter Seven
Then he wondered if what he was doing was actually ruminating. With a start of panic, he fretted about whether ruminating was only something cows did. He'd better stop ruminating, he decided, or tomorrow someone would only want to milk him. He didn't feel there was much he could add to the dairy industry-nor would he want to after their refusal to market his exciting cracker flavoured cheese. It was a disastrous road to travel along, this ruminating. He decided to reflect wryly.
'So,' Josiah reflected wryly, 'this is work.'
He put down the mirror and wryly went home.
There he was, back at the drawing board. On his sloped desk, being overseen by an obnoxious anglepoise lamp, he was drafting a design for the first time in a long time. He concentrated hard, drawing for all he was worth. The page filled with intricate figures, each adding to an original idea, expounding and expanding. He added more information using notes, tiny text in neat boxes. So engrossed was he that he did not notice Tarquin sneaking in behind him.
"Are you working on the design, old thing?" the airman brayed in his ear.
Despite Josiah trying to cover up the piece of paper, he saw what was being drawn.
"This is a comic strip about a character called Mr Anglegrinder!" Tarquin's voice grew stern. "I think you were asked to design a new glider, weren't you?"
The inventor slumped into his seat.
"What have you got to say for yourself?" asked Tarquin.
Josiah muttered "Sorry, didn't mean to... Sort of lost concentration..."
"Well, I think you need to start concentrating more, don't you?" Tarquin scolded.
"Sorry."
Tarquin allowed his voice to brighten.
"I should think so. Now draw a glider and you can have a treat for tea."
Newly enthused, Josiah stripped the board of its defiled sheet of A2 paper and carefully placed a new one on there. He bent over it, all intent on his task. Nodding in silent and somewhat grumpy approval, his guest paced across to the door. Looking round one last time to make sure that Josiah had stuck to his task, he left the room.
It was about an hour later when he returned to see what progress had been made. The design that Josiah had come up with was stunning. Picking himself off the floor, Tarquin wondered why he hadn't noticed the large, hard prototype right in front of him as he had come into the room. Looking closer, he realised it was, without doubt, one of the largest catapults that had ever been seen.
"My word..." he breathed in awe.
"Was that you being awed or are you just a bit puffed out?" Josiah asked.
Tarquin beamed "I am in awe. This is really marvellous. I will have the acceleration, the elevation, the navigation, the verification."
Josiah was impressed, he hadn't expected anyone to notice the red-hot branding iron attachment that would mark the glider as it left. The brand would burn the slogan 'This is a Josiah Hatstand product. All Rights Reserved. Do not use in deep space: this is not a spacecraft!' onto the stern as the glider left the launching device. That was essential to avoid unlicensed copying, although he was not sure if he should haven also made sure that the glider was not mistaken for an almond croissant.
Still rubbing his head, Tarquin walked around the model slowly. On top of the huge catapult was the new and improved glider. Josiah had found improving it easy; put it back together and paint it orange. But he had added some important parts too. The pilot was extremely impressed with what had been achieved. It was all there: a bucket for miscellaneous pieces of polystyrene, an electric light that flashed off, a complimentary air to air rissole and an in-flight magazine entitled ‘Doomed Flights Now’. Best of all, it still had no wings.
Impulsively, Tarquin grabbed a paintbrush and wrote the name of the glider on the side. It completely failed to show up. Paint! That was the answer! Trying again, once the brush had been dipped into some paint, the name was written with a flourish once more. Still nothing
“If you use orange paint, It’s not going to show up,” Josiah explained patiently.
Finally, Tarquin found a clean brush and some white paint. He wrote his choice of name again.
‘Cecily’ stood out in bright and bold writing.
The silence between them deepened as it discovered Japanese poetry and an interest in philosophy. Eventually, the silence stood meaningfully staring into the middle distance before declaring noiselessly that it was going off to write a series of one-act, one person plays that would reveal the truth about life. It slipped from the room, deep in thought.
"I see," said Josiah warily.
"It's named after the woman who has stolen my heart," explained Tarquin.
"Why you..." Josiah snarled threateningly, before his expression softened slightly. "You were speaking metaphorically about your heart, weren't you?"
"Yes, yes of course."
"Ok, ok then. Right, where was I...? Oh yes. Why you..." Josiah advanced on Tarquin, his arms outstretched, murderous intent in his eyes.
Tarquin backed away. His steps backwards caused him to stumble up against a workbench. His fingers closed round a brace that had been lying on the workbench. Instinctively, he brought it up in front of him.
Looking slightly embarrassed, Josiah took the brace and fitted it to his shoulder again.
"That's eased the pain, thanks."
"Calmer?" Tarquin asked.
"Well, perhaps, I was being very angry with you-I deserved to feel pain" his erstwhile attacker said thoughtfully. "But it's mainly because I got hurt during a football match with my brothers. I never loved a present as much as I loved that ball the parents gave us shortly afterwards."
Together, they focused once more on the glider. Each man was lost in their dreams of the journey it would take them on and of the destinations they would reach. Both men had dreams of the glider flying. Both men had dreams of landing at Cecily's feet and claiming her heart.
But only one man had dreams of a small marshmallow called Nigel who could tell the future.
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