"I'll shower when I'm done. Is the steel ready?" He took another drink out of his huge cup then set it on the workbench and walked over to look into the crucible.
"Yeah it's ready." I downed half my coffee and sat it back down beside Justin's drink. We busied ourselves after that setting up the molds for the molten steel. I took off my coat and we both pulled on heavy gloves and leather aprons. Justin opened the foundry and both of us grabbed long handles that fit the crucible. It didn't take long till all the steel was poured out into the long thin molds. We set the crucible back and closed the foundry to let the fire die. It would take hours for the new steel to cool enough to take out of the molds. Justin took a break and a few drinks then walked over to light his small forge. It wasn't long till the coal turned to coke and the fire was ready. He picked up a thin bar that we had poured days ago and placed the end into the fire. When it was a bright cherry he withdrew it to the anvil and began to draw it out to thin wire. I sat back and watched him as I finished my coffee.
"Any orders today?" I spoke to the bottom of my empty cup.
"Just a couple of decorative pieces. I finished them before you got here." He waved his hammer toward the end of the workbench and resumed hammering.
The pieces were simple but well done. One was a small section of stair rail, the other a rack to hang pots from in the kitchen. I looked them over but couldn't find any flaws worth bothering him about. The boy had come a long way in the craft in the years since I had taken him in. I had found Justin, or rather he had found me, here in the warehouse district. He was near to starving and had tried to mug me. It had intrigued me that when I protested the mugging and taken his knife from him that he didn't try to run or beg or cry. He had simply hung his head and waited for whatever I was going to do to him. He had truly hit bottom. I had asked the boy what he was doing trying to mug people in the part of town where there weren't a lot of people to mug. He had replied that he was desperate. He didn't have any ID, no social security number, and no home address. He couldn't find a job anywhere. He had told me he had avoided the gangs and other groups out of a distaste for drugs and that didn't leave him many options in places to go. He had seen me here several times and after a week of not being able to find food he had grown desperate. I took pity on the boy and offered him a job. He had started that day and worked without complaint ever since. The boy had picked up blacksmithing faster than I would have thought possible in this day and age. I usually only had to demonstrate a technique once or twice for him to figure it out. He knew how to read, thankfully, and had ripped through any book that I brought him no matter the genre or subject. I had a radio in the warehouse but he never turned it on. We had built him a small room in the far corner of the building along with a bathroom, complete with shower, that he seemed to avoid. I came back from my recollections and watched him work.
He worked the steel relentlessly, drawing our the bars into thick wire. I knew he would later wind the wire around a rod making a spring, then cut the spring apart to make rings. The rings would be flattened at the ends, punched and riveted. I had told him that he could just buy wire but he seemed to want to do it all the hard way. I didn't care what he did as long as he got the paying work done first. I lit another cigarette and waited for him to finish drawing our the bar he was working on.
"Got a present for ya." I said when he had finished.
"
"Yeah it's ready." I downed half my coffee and sat it back down beside Justin's drink. We busied ourselves after that setting up the molds for the molten steel. I took off my coat and we both pulled on heavy gloves and leather aprons. Justin opened the foundry and both of us grabbed long handles that fit the crucible. It didn't take long till all the steel was poured out into the long thin molds. We set the crucible back and closed the foundry to let the fire die. It would take hours for the new steel to cool enough to take out of the molds. Justin took a break and a few drinks then walked over to light his small forge. It wasn't long till the coal turned to coke and the fire was ready. He picked up a thin bar that we had poured days ago and placed the end into the fire. When it was a bright cherry he withdrew it to the anvil and began to draw it out to thin wire. I sat back and watched him as I finished my coffee.
"Any orders today?" I spoke to the bottom of my empty cup.
"Just a couple of decorative pieces. I finished them before you got here." He waved his hammer toward the end of the workbench and resumed hammering.
The pieces were simple but well done. One was a small section of stair rail, the other a rack to hang pots from in the kitchen. I looked them over but couldn't find any flaws worth bothering him about. The boy had come a long way in the craft in the years since I had taken him in. I had found Justin, or rather he had found me, here in the warehouse district. He was near to starving and had tried to mug me. It had intrigued me that when I protested the mugging and taken his knife from him that he didn't try to run or beg or cry. He had simply hung his head and waited for whatever I was going to do to him. He had truly hit bottom. I had asked the boy what he was doing trying to mug people in the part of town where there weren't a lot of people to mug. He had replied that he was desperate. He didn't have any ID, no social security number, and no home address. He couldn't find a job anywhere. He had told me he had avoided the gangs and other groups out of a distaste for drugs and that didn't leave him many options in places to go. He had seen me here several times and after a week of not being able to find food he had grown desperate. I took pity on the boy and offered him a job. He had started that day and worked without complaint ever since. The boy had picked up blacksmithing faster than I would have thought possible in this day and age. I usually only had to demonstrate a technique once or twice for him to figure it out. He knew how to read, thankfully, and had ripped through any book that I brought him no matter the genre or subject. I had a radio in the warehouse but he never turned it on. We had built him a small room in the far corner of the building along with a bathroom, complete with shower, that he seemed to avoid. I came back from my recollections and watched him work.
He worked the steel relentlessly, drawing our the bars into thick wire. I knew he would later wind the wire around a rod making a spring, then cut the spring apart to make rings. The rings would be flattened at the ends, punched and riveted. I had told him that he could just buy wire but he seemed to want to do it all the hard way. I didn't care what he did as long as he got the paying work done first. I lit another cigarette and waited for him to finish drawing our the bar he was working on.
"Got a present for ya." I said when he had finished.
"
