“Do you have a bathroom?”
She opened the door. “You want a bath?”
“No, it’s not… Jesus. A… restroom?” Her face was souring with every passing second. “Toilet?”
She rolled her eyes, finally understanding him. She turned around, leaving the door open. “Raggi! Take this boy to have a shit.”
A rotund man, wearing patchy stubble, came walking up to the door. He waved Erik in.
“Yer the new one, eh? Heard some stories. Well, reckon you shit like the rest of us.” He laughed. “S’out back.”
Those words did not fill Erik with a sense of confidence. It occurred to him that none of the doors in Gerhard’s alehouse seemed to go to a bathroom. And that there was already liquid in the bucket he was heading to the river with.
He walked through the main room of the house. It was a wide kitchen with three ovens at the edge of the house farthest from the other rooms. Ósk was already back to work, rolling what looked like much more normal bread. It wasn’t nearly as dark, with white flour.
Raggi opened the rear door and led him out into a small yard in the back. There was an outhouse standing in it, along with some parts that looked to be for ovens.
Erik looked at the wooden rectangle, despondent. “So, there’s no plumbing?”
“Hm?” Raggi looked at him, eyebrows raised, and then at the outhouse. “Oh. Hah! Fancy man, aren’t you? You’ll get used to it.” He pushed him toward the outhouse and turned to head back toward the bakery.
Being in no rush to find out how bad the smell would be, Erik dragged his feet toward the suspect building. He opened the door and saw a small box of dirty sheep’s wool sitting beside the hole that had been cut into a wooden bench. He whimpered looking at it, but went inside, expecting to vomit from the smell. Instead he was greeted by a quiet babbling. Against his better judgment, Erik looked down the hole and could just barely make out rushing water. Looking at the side of the small reservoir, he could see pipes made from hollowed rocks. They’d redirected the nearby river to run through pipes.
Erik had no idea he was capable of feeling such relief and he quickly undid the rope around his new pants and pulled them down, sitting on the seat. The water was very relaxing, it turned out, and he felt stress falling away as he sat on the borrowed wooden bench. He tensed again, hearing footsteps outside. Raggi must have been coming to check on him. Wanting to avoid a conversation he decided to speak first.
“I’m doing fine, thanks!” He gave a half-chuckle. “I thought it was going to be awful in here.”
There was no answer and the footsteps moved to the side of the outhouse and then around the back. He heard a sound like someone jumping and landing.
“Hello? Raggi?”
The footsteps sped up, moving to the far side. There were vents toward the top of the outhouse that Erik had just noticed. He had no way of closing them. He heard jumping again, this time on the side. The sound of a door creaking open sent the footsteps running away from the outhouse and as Erik was looking frantically around, he heard Raggi’s voice coming closer.
“Not so bad, is it?” There was pride in the statement. “Took years to get those damnable things working right. Worth it though, eh?”
“Yeah, it’s… it’s really amazing. Listen, did you see someone around the outhouse just now?”
There was a brief pause. “No, no one out here but you. I’ve heard you’re called Erik, is that right?”
“Yeah?”
“They say you’re from some new land in Midgard, what’s it like? Been stuck here with the missus— and I love her, mind you— but I used to dream of adventure.”
This was not relaxing. Erik explained that the Italians found it and that there were natives, trying to end the conversation. It failed. Finally, he gave up and just forced as much from his bowels as he could manage considering the situation. There was a second box next to the one full of wool, it was covered unlike the other. Erik grabbed a handful and cleaned up as best he could with what was clearly not prime grade material. He understood thoroughly after opening the closed box why Gerhard used the river.
Erik left, thanking them both on the way through the bakery. Ósk grunted at him, but Raggi seemed to have taken a liking to him.
He headed back to the alehouse. It was mid-morning from the looks of the sun in the sky, and he opened the door to find Gerhard cleaning the tables with a rag. He stood up when Erik came in.
“Good, Fulla saw to some clothes.”
Erik looked down at the clothes and then back up at Gerhard. “She’s not married.”
Gerhard laughed. “Oh, that girl. She’s never been good around people. Was there work?”
Erik held up his two coins, moving over to the bench nearest Gerhard as he did.
“Work well done, then. Ósk is usually a stingy one. Must be she likes the look of you.”
“Is that what that means?” Erik huffed out something like a laugh. “At least she shows it somehow. What should I pay you for letting me stay here? I don’t really—”
Gerhard held up a hand. “Keep what you earn.” He wrung out the rag into the bucket of water. “Earn enough to buy some drink and buy it from me. Now, let’s eat. There’s work for you in the afternoon.”
chapter|7
Gerhard finished his cleaning, tossed the rag into the bucket, and then made for the door. Erik stood up, following him, and they both left the alehouse into the late morning sun. It was a warm day, pleasant, if a bit too humid. The haze of the morning had burnt off in the half hour that Gerhard had finished the cleaning and more people were out now with the sun up.
Erik watched people smile at
