Chapter 9

9

LAMPWICK

“H ow’s this?” I ask. I hold up a wooden block that looks like no shape known to man, with multiple round, flat, and jagged edges.

Geppetto gives me an unimpressed smirk and I grimace. “That bad?”

“It’s supposed to be shaped like a cat. That…looks like one tragic cat. I’m sorry, young man.” He snickers, and I whine.

“I’ve been at this for hours.” It’s true. After the bath yesterday, I’m back to my normal schedule of working here during the mornings and doing errands in the afternoon. I’ve grown closer to everyone here in Collodi, and the list is nearly complete. I won’t have any reason to stay and I’ll be free to work all across Italy again. I would need to leave Geppetto and Arpeggio.

I would need to say goodbye to Pinocchio. My futile crush on him has only grown, and leaving would be the only way I could move on with my life. But being apart from him would break my heart, and possibly hurt him…

I shake my head and look down at the workbench. With very few patrons, I have the time to learn as much as I can from my boss. I grab another large, uncut wooden plank and bring it close to the saw.

“Show me what you’re doing,” Geppetto says.

“Okay, I…well, I do this.” I begin sawing the piece as rapidly as I can.

“No, no, no,” he says, and I stop. “Go slower, Lampwick.”

He takes over and carefully saws where I left off. With all the finesse of a master, he chops off pieces of wood until it resembles a pointy-eared cat face. The wooden piece still needs some cutting here and there, as well as a significant amount of sanding, but otherwise, it’s remarkable. Leave it to me to fail at sculpting a simple cat shape where Geppetto did it in two seconds. I can add carpentry to the long list of things I’ve screwed up.

“I might make it look easy, so please don’t beat yourself up.” He beams at me from the stool next to mine. Of course, the master woodworker can read my mind too.

“You do make it look easy,” I say with a smile. “I’ll never be a master like you.”

“Nonsense.” He takes another wooden piece and hands it to me. “With some practice, by the time I’m a tombstone in the ground, you’ll be a master as well!”

He chuckles, but I give an uncomfortable smile. “You’re never dying, Geppetto, the world needs you.” I laugh and take the saw.

“Doubtful,” he says. I begin to saw, and he adds, “Ehh…even slower, Lampwick.”

I nod and pause. When I restart, I saw, back and forth, at what feels like a glacial pace. After a few moments, I’m able to maneuver the wooden plank with ease. The shapes come to life, and I grin. “Got it!”

“Bravo!”

I hold up my much less disfigured wooden piece with pride.

“You’re wrong you know,” he says with a smile.

“Eh?”

He pushes up his glasses. “The world doesn’t need me. Because Pinocchio is my whole world. And Arpeggio.” The room feels warmer, and his solemn tone makes my pulse rise. “But Arpeggio has my Piccolo to take care of her. And Pinocchio…he has…”

He coughs and looks away, grabbing a stray piece of wood. “I’d like to think he has you.”

His words make my heart skip a beat. “He’s…my best friend. Of course he has me. Anything at all.”

Geppetto looks me up and down knowingly, and the exposure has my skin prickling. “Right…” He sits up straight and looks me in the eye. “Lampwick, will you lead my boy astray?”

“No, never!” I say quickly. He gives me a smirk that takes me back to being a scolded little kid. “Well…not anymore. I swear, I had no idea the Land of Toys was a trap. I am so, so sorry.”

After a moment, Geppetto smiles. He taps my shoulder and says, “That was so long ago, Lampwick. You’ve obviously grown up a lot.”

“But still—”

“Young man, I forgave you.” He focuses on another wooden project and sands it down. He blows the dust away and scrutinizes it. “And the people all over town have forgiven you, too. What with your list.”

My cheeks burn up and I stop breathing. In the short time we’ve worked together, Geppetto has been more of a father figure than anyone in my life. Leaving him would hurt me as well.

After a moment, Geppetto studies me, and then asks, “When are you going to forgive yourself?”

I bite my lip, curbing the raw emotion that threatens to pour out. Geppetto sees through me like I’m a clean glass window. Before I can say anything else, the back door opens up. I dash away, not wanting Pinocchio to see the vulnerability on my face.

“Papa, I got you a sweater.” I hear my best friend with my back turned to him, choosing to closely sand my current project

“Why?” he asks with a chuckle.

“You were coughing early this morning. Don’t think I didn’t hear it.” They both laugh, and I sense him walk up to me. “Hey, Lampo. Need help?”

I turn and smile. He’s as bright-eyed as ever. “Very much so. But your papa is teaching me the finer techniques of woodworking. He’s choosing to teach a dummy like me.”

“You’re not a dummy,” my friend says. His sincere tone both uplifts and crushes my soul.

“You have so much potential, Lampwick!” Geppetto strides next to me, now with more clothes on. “I bet one day you’ll be running the shop.”

My cheeks warm but I grin and look away. “I think Pinocchio is going to have that title.”

“We can run it together! Like a family.” I turn to my best friend, and time slows down. The simple idea of being here, for years to come, with Pinocchio by my side has my pulse quickening. Growing old with him would be an honor, but I’m certainly not worthy…

Geppetto clears his throat, and we both turn to him. His eyes dart between the two of us, and he smiles. “Say, it’s a slow night. Why don’t you boys head out and do that list of yours?”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Are you actually asking Lampwick to bathe again?” Pinocchio asks with a smirk. I lightly shove my friend, and we all crack up.

“No, you smell fine. I just think with the summer winding down, you need as much time outside as you can get. Plus, the clouds are rolling in, so take advantage of this fine afternoon.”

I search my best friend’s eyes for counsel, but he seems just as surprised as me. “Um, if you really don’t mind.”

“Of course not! I was running this place alone for decades.” He waves his hands and leads us out the back door. “Go on boys.”

“Be back soon, Papa.” We wave, and moments later, we’re on the cobblestone road. “So where to Lampo?”

I try not to get distracted by the fizzy feeling I get whenever I hear him say that nickname. “Um…there is one…really important part of the list.”

“Oh? Who are we doing free labor for this time?” He snickers as we walk down the road.

“No one.” I gulp and look at him. He studies me as I breathe out this next confession. “The person we’re going to see…isn’t alive.”

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