It was the first time Lilibell had left the house before dawn.
Since the incident, going out at night brought back bad memories for her; the shadows made her paranoid, and all the strange sounds characteristic of a darkened town made her too uneasy. In fact, when she arrived at Outlander, she had to place furniture in front of every door in the house to sleep peacefully each night, until her first visitors arrived. Then, she dared to just lock the door and board up the windows.
However, this morning, she decided to cling to the few drops of courage she had managed to gather the night before. After finishing breakfast, she put on the clothes she had left ironed, hanging by her closet door.
Once ready, she looked in the mirror.
She wore a beige cotton blouse with a small, discreet bow knotted at the neck, under a dark brown sleeveless dress that fell to her knees, with a straight cut and a slightly fitted waist.
Completing the outfit was a coat of the same shade, with long sleeves and simple lapels, which gave her an elegant, weather-appropriate air. Closed, low-heeled brown leather shoes with laces. She considered wearing a hat as well, but in the end, she opted for a deep side parting with fluffy curls at her neck and nothing else on her head.
She needed to hold onto something as simple as a well-chosen outfit to somehow regain a little control, even if it was just with her clothes.
As she was putting the finishing touches on her attire, the sound of a horn outside announced that her cabbie had arrived.
She left the room after grabbing her clutch bag that matched her coat. She went down the stairs, and upon reaching the door, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, silently encouraging herself.
Even so, when she opened the door to step outside, coming face to face with the landscape only illuminated by the vehicle's lights and a few gas streetlamps, she felt intimidated. But she wasn't ready to retreat yet.
Consequently, she squeezed her eyelids shut and took two steps forward, opening them once she turned to make sure the main door was locked, and then walked with her gaze fixed on the ground toward the cabbie waiting for her where the entrance path began.
She hurriedly got into the car, barely greeting the driver.
Once inside, noticing that she was no longer standing alone in the middle of the night but in company, she felt her composure returning to her little.
Sighing slightly relieved, she asked the driver to take her to the town square.
The cabbie dropped her off at the edge of the square, where, still from her seat inside the vehicle, Lilibell looked through the window and found a mosaic of colors and scents, placed just in time to be the first to welcome the spring sun.
She carefully got out after paying for the ride and found Jeanette not far away, standing under the hand-painted sign on burlap, hung between two streetlamps, giving a warm welcome to the event.
Her companion wore a dark green shirt with delicate cherry blossoms in the print, a turtleneck, and ruffles at the end of the long sleeves. Over the shirt, she wore a simple mustard-colored dress that fell just to her knees, perfect for moving easily. Finally, ankle boots matching the dress and a crown braid that gathered all her hair completed her outfit.
As soon as she saw her get out of the vehicle, Jeanette raised her arm to get her attention before trotting closer.
"I'm glad ye could come!" she exclaimed upon reaching her side.
She took her arm, so eager to start the tour that her words began to tumble out. "You're gonnae love the market this year; I heard there's going to be a fashion show. All the hats that'll be popular next season are exclusive—can ye believe it? It's the first time we've had anything like this here!"
Lilibell smiled, infected by her companion's energy and optimism. "I'm certain the parade will be wonderful," she began, "but actually..." She debated for a moment whether to continue or let herself be carried away, because if Jeanette already had the itinerary planned, she didn't want to be the one to spoil those plans.
However, she concluded that if she wanted to make the most of this outing, she should be honest from the beginning. "I was hoping you could recommend a good craftsman." The honey-braided young woman tilted her head silently. That simple gesture was taken as a signal to continue explaining. "While I was cleaning the kitchen, I found several countertops with large moisture stains. When I informed Mrs. Glider, she asked me to arrange the replacement of the damaged furniture."
The brown-haired girl ended up looking at Jeanette for understanding, which, fortunately, was returned almost immediately. "That's wonderful! I mean..." she corrected herself right away. "I don't mean the moisture in the furniture, of course," she let out a nervous chuckle as they began to walk toward the event. "The parade'll be in that same wee section o' the market, so we can talk to the carpenters while we wait for it tae start."
"Then it is decided, yes?" she stated, giving her a wide grin.
The first stalls they passed were for floral arrangements and various gardening products, causing Lilibell to deeply regret not having taken even a small look at the garden, in case she needed to bring anything. Because of this, she had no choice but to accept every scroll, engraved tablet, or handbill offered by the owners of each stall, all containing the names of their well-priced tools she might need.
In this way, they went through the first part of the market, including the fresh fruit and vegetable section, with her guide laughing as she greeted all her acquaintances and told all kinds of anecdotes about past markets, some harder to believe than others.
It could be said that it wasn't difficult for Lilibell to conclude that Jeanette knew almost all the town's inhabitants, especially because she would stop in the middle of a story to greet the stall owners or people who simply crossed the same path as them, over and over again.
After the tenth or twentieth person they encountered, she gave up trying to remember faces, remaining silent and displaying her best social smile.
By the time they finally reached the craftsmen's section, Lilibell felt completely exhausted.
She sighed audibly, grateful that they could finally focus on finding a carpenter for the residence's furniture. And luckily for her, it wasn't long before they found one willing to take on the task, as without precise instructions from Mrs. Glider, Lilibell decided to opt for a design the family had already liked and made sure the craftsman could replicate it as best as possible.
"Och, boring!" her friend complained as they walked away from the stall. "You missed a rare chance tae get Queen Anne decorations for the hoose"
She was about to reply when a metallic roar suddenly erupted, overpowering all the other market noises.
It buzzed in her ears, low and constant, reverberating against the stalls and walls of the market, as if it wanted to envelop everything. Its spontaneous appearance terrified her, making her think that something very bad was happening.
Her face contorted into a grimace when the second boom made Jeanette jump. She put both hands to her head, trying to mitigate the sound while looking for its origin, until she came across a large mass of people huddled in a corner.
She huffed with annoyance but thought maybe they were taking care of whatever was disturbing everyone.
She was more than willing to turn to her companion to suggest leaving the section, but when she turned to Jeanette, she noticed that not only had she also found the apparent source of the metallic roar, but she had also started signaling for them to join the crowd.
She wanted to object, but without the option of being able to speak in any way other than shouting, plus the playful sparkle in her friend's eyes, she reluctantly gave in, letting herself be dragged and pushing her way to the very front.
Upon reaching the front row, she understood the reason for the commotion.
Behind some wooden bars hammered into the ground, in an attempt to keep the audience away from the "stage," stood a tall man with aviator glasses, dressed in a flannel plaid shirt, fitted to his body, in green and rolled up to his elbows, revealing his musculature and, to her surprise, capturing Lilibell's full attention.
It goes without saying that her first attempt to look away failed, as she ended up watching him strongly grip what looked like a large saw whose sharp, penetrating sound only increased upon contact with the wood, sending vibrations that she could feel in her feet, tickling her.
Noticing that she might be too intense, with her gaze more attentive to the man than to the demonstration, she decided to direct her gaze to the piece of wood on the ground, trying to guess what the show was about, noting how the craftsman rested one foot on it to keep it steady, while also giving her a better view of his loose denim trousers held up at the shoulder with leather suspenders and mid-calf laced boots, all in the same dark brown as his suspenders.
During the minutes that followed, Lilibell, hypnotized by the man's precise movements, watched as the machine seemed to roar like a living animal, spitting out wood chips and dust with each pass. His tense arms showed the terrible amount of strength needed to guide it accurately, while his eyes, hidden behind thick glasses, followed every contour of the log that was slowly beginning to take shape.
By little, beneath the penetrating buzz of the saw, the figure of an alligator emerged.
The curves of its back, the indentations of its skin, the opening of its mouth, all sculpted at a meticulous pace that contrasted with the brutality of the noise and the shavings flying around it.
The end of the show was marked by that machine when its horrible roar ceased and the man took off his glasses, showing an expression of pride, accompanied, of course, by the applause and cheers of the crowd that had gathered to watch him.
Both of them joined the other spectators who commented with amazement on what they remembered from the presentation, sharing praise and their final opinions, especially because they never thought a piece like that could take so little time to take shape.
In Lilibell's particular case, with her eyes being drawn time and again to the sculptor's face throughout the event, without wanting to admit it, she only managed to share compliments regarding the final work, keeping to herself the other details about the young craftsman's slightly tanned, freckled face and bright, intense, wavy orange hair.
After a final bow to the audience, he bent down to begin gathering his things, including, and with great delicacy, his most recent work.
The people around took that as their cue to disperse, allowing the brown-haired woman to breathe much more easily. Despite having enjoyed the demonstration, she silently appreciated the return of calm to the market, letting out the air she didn't know she had been holding.
"It's magnificent…" she said softly, looking at her companion, "It feels… as if... he has used some magic to make this figure."
If Jeanette saw anything more than surprise etched on her friend's face, she chose not to say a word. She merely crossed her arms, as if about to refute Lilibell's assertion, instantly being interrupted by the dry crunch of footsteps on the dirt near them.
"I'm flattered, thank you."