BlaiseCorvin
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Cozy Isekai Craftsman, ch 22
🕑 Added 2023-03-12 19:28:49 +0000 UTCJoe meticulously picked up the bandages, cringing as the sticky, crimson stains clung to his skin. He deftly transferred Rick’s and Dave’s blood as properties onto the stones, their surfaces quickly absorbing the blood like a sponge. With a deft flick of his wrist, he tossed the stones into the sink, their once pristine surfaces now marred with scarlet streaks.
As he touched each bandage, his senses tingled with an otherworldly awareness. The slightest hint of poison or contamination would have sent his mind reeling, but thankfully there was nothing amiss. He breathed a sigh of relief, but the thought lingered in the back of his mind that he may have missed something. He made a mental note to craft a pair of gloves for himself,
not just gloves for the garden, but just general work gloves for situations like this.
As Joe busied himself with the task at hand, his mind focused on the clothes and their bloody contents. He worked quickly, his hands moving with a practiced ease, transferring the blood and stains to the pebbles. But his concentration was broken by the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned.
It was Patricia, her tousled blonde hair falling in unruly waves around her thick, square glasses. Her expression was one of perpetual annoyance, but Joe knew better than to take it personally. He had come to realize that her brusque demeanor was born out of a deep concern for her patients' well-being. It was a trait that he respected, even if it had first made him uncomfortable.
As she approached, Joe couldn't help but admire the care and precision with which she had diagnosed Rick and David, the guards. It was clear that she took her job seriously, and was committed to doing it well. Her stern rebuke earlier had been a result of her genuine fear that Joe was making the situation worse, but he was grateful to report that things had worked out in the end.
Patricia made her way to the sink, lathering up her hands with soap and water as Joe watched. He couldn't help but admire her efficiency and professionalism as she went about her task.
"You're very good at what you do," he said, his tone friendly and relaxed. "I didn't know that you could snap bones like that in place with just a couple of moves."
Patricia's response was curt but informative. "It takes a lot of practice and not just schooling," she said briskly. "When you have a dungeon nearby, you get a lot of injuries, most of them not from guards, though. This was a rare occasion."
Joe nodded, trying to show his understanding. "Oh really? That's good to hear. I'm glad that the people in this town don't get injured often."
Patricia let out a small sigh, as if tired of small talk. "That's true," she said shortly. "But there are other illnesses that I had to take care of."
Joe took the hint and changed the subject. "How is Dylan's granddaughter doing?" he asked, remembering a previous conversation they had.
Patricia raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You know about it?" she asked, her tone more curious than accusatory.
Joe nodded, feeling a bit proud of himself for remembering. "Yeah," he said with a small smile. "I'm friends with Rick, and I filled in for Dylan at the Rusty Nail for a day."
Patricia's tone was brisk and efficient, her words precise and to the point. "He was the first one who mentioned you, long before you approached the merchant and craft guilds for the city. He had inquired about bringing you up to my office in the clinic."
Joe blinked in surprise, unsure of how to respond. He had no idea that he had been on this man's radar for so long. He tried to gather his thoughts before speaking. "I've been meaning to come and talk to you about his granddaughter. I don't even know what kind of illness she has. Is it terminal?"
Patricia's response was firm and professional. "I cannot discuss a patient's medical condition without their consent. However, our clinic offers comprehensive care for all our patients, with the latest treatments and technology available."
Joe nodded slowly, taking in her words. He knew that Patricia was a skilled physician, and respected her expertise. But he couldn't help feeling frustrated at the lack of information. "Is there any way I can learn more about her condition?"
Patricia's tone softened slightly as she considered Joe's request. "I can arrange for you to speak with one of our doctors. They'll be able to provide you with more specific information, and answer any questions you may have. If Dylan gives his consent in person to reveal information about his granddaughter’s condition, then we can proceed to give you a more detailed answer."
Joe's relief was palpable as he thanked Patricia. Despite her curt demeanor, he could tell that she was a compassionate and dedicated physician. "That would be great, thank you. I appreciate your help, Patricia."
Joe's heart sank as he realized his mistake. Guilt weighed heavily on his chest like a boulder. He had been so consumed with constructing the magnificent mansion that he had neglected to remember Dylan's granddaughter.
Joe scolded himself for his carelessness, feeling like he had betrayed his promise. He had sworn to think of a way to help Dylan, and yet here he was, wrapped up in his own endeavors. He cringed with regret. It wasn't that he had completely forgotten about her, but rather, she had slipped to the back of his mind. He never imagined that he would be so engrossed in his work within the first month of his arrival in this new world.
Patricia adjusted her glasses, drying her hands on a towel that Joe passed to her. She inspected the towel to make sure it was clean and then dried her hands. She said softly, "If it helps ease your mind, it's in the early stages of the disease. I won't get into the exact details. Honestly, it's a little too technical for a layman like you. But it isn't painful. However, it does make her bedridden. And if we don't do anything to treat it within the year, it could get severely worse and become a chronic illness," she said.
Joe blinked at her, noticing behind her brisk exterior, she had read his guilt like a book. He said, "Thank you. I'll be sure to come up as soon as I can."
Patricia said, "There's no great urgency, but if you can make it up, do so."
Patricia paused for a minute, thinking about how she was going to say her next words. She pursed her lips and said, "I apologize for earlier, yelling at you and doubting you."
Joe waved her off. "Don't worry about it. If I were in your position, I'd be furious if somebody was messing with my patient too. I know how difficult it is to understand my ability at first. It probably defies everything you know about medicine. To be honest, I barely believe it myself."
The doctor grabbed his hands without asking.
Joe fidgeted as Patricia examined his hands, delicately lifting each finger one by one. He couldn't help but feel like an insect under her scrutiny. "And you're sure it isn’t some form of sorcery?" she asked, her tone clinical and detached. She seemed to be talking more to herself than to Joe.
He nodded, feeling a little defensive. "Grace told me that all sorcerers have markings on their body to show their constellation or something like that. It's been a little over a month, I can't remember exactly."
Patricia nodded, pulling out a notebook and jotting some words inside it with a pencil. "Interesting," she said curtly. "Well, as a scientist, it's important to remain skeptical until we have concrete evidence."
Joe chuckled nervously. "I get it, I'm all for science too. But when you've seen what I have, it's hard not to believe in the miraculous."
Patricia peered at him over her glasses, her expression unreadable. "We will investigate this matter thoroughly," she said briskly. "We will run tests and consult with our colleagues in related fields to get to the bottom of this."
Joe chuckled. "Science is a big deal where I came from, too. But outside of a month ago, I never even knew gods actually existed."
Patricia rolled her eyes. "That's exactly my point. The more mysteries there are in the world, the more facts we have to uncover. So, you and your magic, or wizardry, or whatever you want to call it, there's probably some sort of scientific explanation for it."
Joe wanted to believe that there was some law of physics his ability was following, but having met a goddess himself, been transported from another world, given a new body, and given special abilities, plus a million other things that had happened to him, he could not help but doubt. But it was Patricia's belief that all things could be explained, and he didn't want to put it down.
"At least my work is done here. I'll take Dave with me. I need to get his wounds taken care of. All my stuff is back at the office," Patricia said.
"Okay, I'll take care of Rick. I need to bring him back to the tavern anyway, so you can get some sleep," Joe said.
Patricia shook her head. "No, he stays here. Put him up here for at least two days. Use that odd water of yours a few more times, and he should be cleared to return back to the Rusty Nail within thirty six hours. I know his home isn't far, but I don't want him moving that much or I'll see his wound open again."
Joe asked, "Is it okay for him to go up the stairs?"
Patricia replied, "Yes, that should be fine."
As Patricia extended her delicate hand, Joe shook it with a firm grip. She left to attend to the other guard. David felt good enough to follow her out of the mansion back to her clinic to get proper stitches and a full physical review of his wounds.
The sound of the door closing echoed in Joe's ears, leaving him alone with Rick, who was now fully awake. The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence as Rick shifted awkwardly on the kitchen stool.
Patricia had been adamant about taking care of himself and not overexerting his arm while it recovered. Joe could see the determination etched into Rick's face, and he couldn't help but feel proud of him for his unwavering commitment. The two men sat in silence, the only sound coming from the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall.
Joe walked over to Rick and asked, "How are you doing?"
Rick opened his mouth to answer, but then there was another ring at the doorbell.
The bell rang for the door, and Joe turned, saying, "Here, give me a sec."
As Joe walked to the front door, he could feel the anticipation bubbling inside him. He flung the door open and was immediately engulfed in a blur of movement as his siblings, Bryan and Niamh, stampeded past him. They moved like a hurricane, barreling towards their dad in the back kitchen.
Rick threw up his hand in protest, "No hugging, no hugging," he said, trying to keep his kids at bay.
The trio yelled, "Dad!" in unison, their faces a mixture of emotions: sadness, worry, and relief. Tears streamed down their faces as they embraced their father as lightly as they could without causing further injury. Rick showed his cast to his children, explaining what it did.
Caroline stood in the doorway, looking like a ghost of her former self. The color had drained from her face, leaving her looking as though she had aged ten years in a matter of hours. The worry lines etched into her skin were a testament to the pain and fear she had been feeling.
Joe said, "He's okay. And in a few months, his arm will be better than it was before."
Caroline blinked away a couple of tears, her ironclad resolve slipping for the first time in Joe's memory. She had always seemed a woman of unshakeable strength, an immovable wall that no one could penetrate. But now, there was a crack in her armor, a vulnerability that Joe had never seen before.
Her normally firm voice was a little cracked, revealing a hint of the emotions that she had been holding back for so long. Joe knew that it took a lot to break Caroline's tough exterior, but he was there for her, offering a shoulder to lean on when she needed it most.
She said, "Thank you, Joe. I don't know how I can repay you."
Joe patted her on the back and started leading her towards the kitchen. He said, "You don't have to repay me. That's what friends are for."
He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, feeling the weight of her sagging and drooping beneath his touch. Despite her momentary lapse, there was still an undeniable strength there. Caroline drew in a deep breath through her nose, and Joe could hear the hitch in her voice as she exhaled.
Joe watched as Caroline shot a withering look at Rick, as though she were ready to tear his head apart. But then, she held back, allowing the kids to catch up with their father. Rick was regaling them with tales of the battle, though it was clear that some, if not all, of the story was made up. Rick and Dave had been keen on not sharing exactly what had happened, but that didn't seem to matter to the kids, who were rapt with attention.
Caroline spoke low enough for only Joe to hear, her voice pained, "He came to you before he came to me."
Joe gave her a sidelong glance and smiled. He said, "He didn't want to worry you, Caroline."
For some reason, Caroline looked angrier. Then she turned to Joe and said, "You've never been married."
It wasn't a question. There was a softness to her voice, but the statement was resolute.
Joe conceded. When he spoke, the words came out faster than he could think of them, words he’d been wanting to say ever since the cancer took hold of him in his first life. "No, I haven't, but I do know what it's like to be injured, in pain, and to want to avoid the very people who will heal that pain. There's a certain feeling of shame in being brought down, especially when others see you a certain way. It feels like you're failing them, like you're not you anymore, and then you can never be that person."
Caroline's expression softened, and the lines at the edge of her eyes deepened. "Are you sick?" she asked, her eyes crystal clear as if seeing right through him
Joe had nothing to hide, but he had always been a little hesitant to talk about the more important things about his first life. "I was sick," he said. "To the point where I became a hollow version of myself. When the goddess Quinn approached me, I only had a few months left to live."
Caroline took an involuntary step back, gasping. "Oh, Joe. I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
Joe smiled. "It's okay. Everything's better now. In my original world...many people believe that when you die, you go to a better place. I don't know what you guys believe here, but the fact that I woke up in this world, that I met you and your family, and all the friends I've made so far, it feels like that became true. I don't think It can get better than this."
Caroline smiled. "It really doesn't get better than this," her voice was sure and strong.
Joe nodded to Rick and asked Caroline, "You ready?"
Caroline straightened her spine, and wiped away any signs of tears on her face, looking once again like the immovable matriarch of her family. She stepped forward, nodded at the kids, and they parted to allow her to approach her husband. She couldn't wrap him in a hug because of his cast, but she held his head gently in her hands, kissing his forehead as he sat down and she stood up. Joe watched as she buried her face in Rick's hair, the two of them lost in a moment of wordless connection.
The kids had fallen silent, the only sound in the room the soft rustle of clothing and the occasional sniffle. Joe knew that this moment, the silhouette of Caroline holding her husband while their children surrounded them, would be etched into his mind forever.
In that moment, Joe felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this family, but also a deep-seeded guilt. He had been brought here by the goddess Quinn with great power and responsibility, and he had always thought he had used it wisely and responsibly. But now, he couldn't help but feel that he had failed in some way.
He had always been afraid to make changes that could upend other people's lives, even if his intention was to make things better. He knew that good intentions could sometimes lead to unintended consequences, and he had always tried to be cautious. But today, for the first time since arriving in this world, he felt like he had failed his friend.
Despite his great power, he knew that his true responsibility was not to be a great man of history, but to do good. And right now, he couldn't help but feel like he had fallen short of that mark. But as he watched Caroline and Rick embrace, he knew that there was still good in the world, and that it was up to him to find a way to contribute to it.
Thomas spoke up. He said, "I know that silence of yours, boy."
Joe asked, "There’s different kinds of silence?"
Thomas chuckled. He said, "If there's anybody who knows silence, it's me."
Joe conceded to that.
Thomas said, "You shouldn't blame yourself for this. People live lives outside of you. It's arrogant to think that you're a part of their lives every single moment. There are things that you have to accept that aren't within your control."
Joe said, "But this was... I could have done something. I could have made him something to protect himself."
Thomas said, "True, but you communicated to him why it was important for you to be careful with the things that you made and that it came from a place of good intent and a deep foundation in your morals. Rick understood that and everyone you’ve revealed your ability to so far has as well. That trust is not a weakness."
Joe said, "But he could have died."
Thomas said, "Yes, that's true. But you're not a god, Joe. It's not up to you to determine who lives and who dies."
Joe realized he was clenching his fists and released them. Thomas asked, "Don't tell me you're going to start making weapons that could slay dragons and fell great demons." It came off as a joke, but there was a hint of concern there.
Joe deflated. "No. That's my one hard rule. I won't make a weapon that's too powerful. I know what it's like in my world. There are weapons so powerful that all it would take was a few buttons to press and billions of lives could be destroyed in an instant, not thousands, not millions, but billions. I don't know if my power can do anything like that. But I don't want to start down that road."
"Good,” Thomas agreed.
Joe felt like he was a little down for the moment, and the kids seemed scared. This may have been their first time seeing their happy-go-lucky and, to their eyes, invincible father become injured, vulnerable, human. This also may have been the first time seeing their mother cry and not hit her husband for being an idiot.
An idea came to Joe. He whispered to Thomas, "Okay, let's lighten the mood." He walked to the back where he left the box and brought it to the kitchen.
The kids looked at him. Bryan pushed John forward to say something, but then John pushed Niamh to speak for them. She punched John lightly in the arm, and said to Joe, "Thanks, Mr. Joe, for saving our dad."
Joe said, "Don't worry about it. It's actually Dr. Patricia who saved us, and the guard Dave. I didn't really do much. But don’t let this distract you from what I’m about to show you."
He slammed the box onto the table with great bravado. Everybody in the room, except for Joe, jumped up in surprise.
Rick groaned in pain but sat back down. He said, "What was that about?"
Joe put on his biggest evil grin, trying to look like a mad scientist. He crouched over the box as if it held the deepest, darkest mysteries. He cackled his best wizard's cackle. The kids looked frightened, but their frightened expressions quickly transformed to excitement.
Caroline asked Joe, "Are you okay? Were you injured too?" She looked genuinely worried, as did Rick. But the kids seemed to understand what was going on. Children were much more intuitive than adults like to let on.
And then Joe slapped his hands together and said, "I was going to save this for my little get-together next week, but it seems it is time for me to reveal one of the greatest inventions of the Great and Powerful Soup Wizard, Joe Johnson!"
He flared his arms out in dramatic fashion like a magician revealing a wonderful trick.
The kids clapped a couple of times, asking, "Mr. Joe, Mr. Joe, what's the surprise?"
Joe grandly said, "In this box is something that you have probably never seen before. A strange concoction from a foreign land. It defies the laws of cookery. Kings would sell half their kingdom for a single delectable taste of this morsel. It is the greatest invention of humankind!"
The kids leaned forward. And this time, Caroline and Rick seemed to understand what was going on. They gave each other a knowing look, and they both smiled. Joe pointed to Caroline and said, "Caroline, over there are a couple of bowls and spoons. Can you please grab them for me?" She did. And while she did that, Joe went to the pots near the window which had several herbs.
Thomas spoke up and said, "Oh, you're going to do the thing. You're going to show off your thing that you made earlier."
Joe said, "Shush. You're ruining my moment."
Thomas laughed. He said, "I'm glad you never tried to make money being an actor because you're terrible at it, boy."
Joe ignored him and grabbed the herbs and spices, and put them in bowls on the table next to the box. He grabbed the giant spoon from a drawer while Caroline set the bowls and spoons on the table.
Joe said, "Okay, everybody grab a bowl and a spoon each except for Rick because he's been a bad boy."
Rick growled at him melodramatically like an angry but exhausted lion, too tired to care, but there was a pleased hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. Ribbing Rick for the injury helped lighten the mood.
Joe toggled, "Okay, hurry up. Let's go. Let's go. Let's go. Let's go. Everyone grab your things."
The kids piled up, measured by their mother, one by one, with a bowl and a spoon in hand. Joe sprinkled his finger, flicked the singer above the box, and unfastened the leather straps one by one with dramatic effect. Each time he unstrapped one of the leather straps, the children leaned forward, even Rick, wondering what was inside.
When Joe lifted the cover, he revealed what was inside and said, "Tada! Amazing, right?"
The kids, who had built up their expectations, probably thinking he was going to reveal a dragon's egg or a hidden world that would transport them to a place where they could walk on clouds, were immediately disappointed, and their expressions flattened to frowns.
Bryan asked, "What is it?"
John sniffed it, and said, "It looks like potatoes, mashed potatoes."
Caroline needed to slap them in the back of their heads for being rude, but she did agree that it was cold. "Why is it so cold?"
Joe said, "Because of this," and leaned over the box. He used his giant spoon to scoop out the contents, one by one, in huge heaps. He put it in a bowl and then touched the bowl while touching one of the herbs.
Joe asked Rick, "Do you like vanilla, Rick?"
Rick blanked, "Uhh, sometimes?"
Joe laughed and said, "Okay, just trust me on this."
Joe transferred some of the taste of the vanilla bean into the contents of the bowl. He handed the bowl and spoon to Caroline for her to feed her husband. She took a scoop and placed it in front of her husband's mouth.
Rick hesitated. The kids' eyes widened, excited.
Brian innocently asked, "Are you going to eat the weird poop-looking thing, Daddy?"
Rick straightened his back and tried to look proud and brave, brushing back his lion’s mane hair with his good arm. He said boisterously, "I, Rick, Soldier of God Ezekial, will taste the poison for the sake of my children," he said. Without warning, he took a chomp of the contents of the spoon. Immediately his eyes lit up, and all the worry and pain he had felt that he had shown just a second before vanished, quickly replaced by surprise and wonder. He swallowed it slowly and turned to Joe. He said, "It tastes amazing. I've never tasted anything like this before. What do you call it?"
Joe gave him a thumbs up. "Ice cream," he said triumphantly.
The kids yelled in unison, "I want some! I want some! I want some!"
Caroline looked like she wanted to correct them and remind them of their manners, but Joe held up a pacifying hand, and she understood that not just the kids but Rick also needed this moment to distract them, even if just for a little while. Things in this life, even the dark things, could be ignored just for a little while with some good food.
Joe reached for a bowl with some tiny red fruits in it. He said, "Don’t forget the cherry on top!"
