Free The Clockwork Man by William Jablonsky

once, but I sidestepped him easily and Giselle slapped him away. A pair of old women on the street crossed themselves and backed away when I passed; Giselle laughed at them—a mocking laughter that, strangely, retained some of its sweetness. “That’s it, run away,” she called after them. “If you’re not careful he’ll recite poetry to you.” Thus confronted, the old women bundled themselves in their thick shawls and hobbled away.
    Fräulein Gruenwald says the key to a successful feast is to prepare ahead of time, to minimize the work on the actual holiday. She has thus enlisted the entire household to help—even Jakob. Once home I was put to work in the kitchen chopping apples and celery, a task which I am able to complete in seconds and perform at length, as my wrists do not tire and I need not fear cutting myself. She seemed quite pleased with my efforts; no sooner would she transfer one bowl of chopped celery to the icebox than I had already filled another. This, of course, is the extent of my dabbling in the culinary arts; Ican neither smell nor taste, so the fine nuances of cooking are lost on me. I was simply happy to be of assistance.
    Giselle, who as of this year has assumed the duties of hostess, aided us as well, both in planning the menu and preparing the dishes. Within an hour her arms were caked with white flour up to the elbows, with a thin coating on her face and apron. Late this afternoon the Master came in to ask after her progress; as he watched her work, he smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes, then grasped her shoulders from behind and kissed the top of her head. “Do you know how much like your mother you are?” he asked.
    “I don’t know how she did it,” Giselle said, fatigue creeping into her face. “It’s so much
work
. And she didn’t even have Eva to help.”
    He laughed. “When we were first married, she would cover the whole kitchen with sugar and flour almost every time she cooked.”
    “I miss her.”
    “So do I,” the Master said, releasing her and brushing a bit of flour off her nose. “But I’m sure everything will be wonderful.”
    After he left, Giselle looked at her reflection in a stew pot, blew some of the flour from her chin, and glared at Fräulein Gruenwald. “Why didn’t you warn me this took so much effort, Eva?”
    Fräulein Gruenwald shrugged. “I thought you’d want to be surprised.”
    Giselle smiled oddly, then drew a handful of flour from the bowl. “Thank you so much.” She threw it at Fräulein Gruenwald, dusting her face and hair.
    When the day’s preparations were finally finished, Giselle withdrew to the attic observatory to recuperate, and bade me follow her up. Itwas a particularly clear night, and she wanted to get a good look at Jupiter, which at this time of year is relatively close to Earth. She has already composed the letter to the astronomical society, detailing her discovery of the comet, and so felt it was time to move on.
    She fiddled with the telescope for some time, in turn adjusting the mirrors and eyepiece and peering into the night sky until she finally settled on a bright, unflickering point in the heavens. “There,” she said, smiling contentedly. “I think I’ve got it now. Come look.”
    I placed my eye over the scope and looked at the dull brownish sphere with its red spot and faint splotches of light tan. “Very nice.” As I peered into the lens I noticed the magnification was more powerful than it had been before our travels began. “You’ve made more improvements.”
    “I just changed the lenses. It gave me something to do while Father was away.” She sighed, ignoring the leather armchair in favor of slumping onto the floor. “Today was excruciating. I’ve never done so much work in my life.”
    “Your father was very proud. And I’m sure the feast will be wonderful.”
    Giselle laughed. “Eva says it’s good practice for when I get married. I’ll become the good little hostess and spend my days