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16.
MATÍAS’S HANDS WERE BUILTfor farming, though he worked with the dexterity of an accomplished pianist. He cut, soldered, and moulded the precious silver metal with ease, and by the end, the rough cut of two birds of peace joined at the wing emerged.
Gabi turned them in her palm. “That’s brilliant.”
He cut another piece of metal and hammered it into a thin metal round sheet. He wound the sheet carefully around a wave-shaped wooden pole and stretched its edges, so they touched. He compressed the centre to create curves that formed right angles to each other moving in opposite directions, like petals. The fundamental shape of the spiral appeared.
He handed it to Gabi. “It’s very basic.”
“It’s awesome.”
He stood and motioned to the seat. “Now it’s your turn.”
Gabi’s hands trembled as she started to work. She blew into her palms to reduce the clamminess. Moulding and soldering, she lost track of time. She frowned at the shape of the metal in her hand. It was crude, but it was a start.
He inspected the bird shape. “You’re good,” he said.
“I have a lot to learn.”
“I have met others much older who know less.”
She lowered her head. “Thanks.”
“Would you like some herbal tea or water?”
“Either, thanks.”
“Try the spiral while I’m gone.”
“I don’t want to waste the—”
“You won’t,” he said and smiled.
He left the workshop, and with the pressure of being watched gone, she relaxed and started to enjoy herself. She worked slowly, taking great care to deliver precision at every step, ensuring the metal sheet was a consistent depth across its surface, that she stretched it evenly at its edges, and pressed with equal firmness to create the two curves at right angles to each other. It looked like a butterfly with its wings tucked up, lacking in the contours Matías had effortlessly created.
She had a vague recollection of the door opening behind her and something being put down on a surface as she eased the silver into position. The bloody metal wasn’t shaping as she wanted it to. She huffed as she worked. She sat back and stared at the piece on the stake. The light pressure on her shoulder made her jump from the seat. She held her heart as it thundered, and the familiar perfume registered. She turned to Aisha and laughed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.” She removed the piece she’d been working on and set it on the table among the other bits, embarrassed that Aisha would see it.
“What are you making?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It looks like something.”
Aisha leaned over her shoulder and picked up the doves joined at the wing that Gabi had made. It was too crude for Gabi’s liking, but the warmth sent Gabi’s thoughts spiralling in a more perfect formation than the helix she’d just tried to hide.
Aisha stepped back and picked up two cups from a box next to the door. “I brought your tea.” She held a cup out to Gabi and sipped from the other. “It’s mint,” she said.
Gabi nodded. “A nice surprise.”
“Mint tea?”
“No. You.”
“I wanted to see you.”
The time that Gabi had lost, following her vague recollection of the door being opened, dawned, and the tips of her ears burned at having been watched. She rubbed the back of her neck. “How long were you stood there?”
Aisha smiled. “Long enough to enjoy seeing you at work.”
