"Jerry Davis - Elko the Potter (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Jerry)

Control the dirt. Mold the soil into shapes from the mind's
imagination. Anything was possible!
His father couldn't argue that his son wasn't making a good
living --- he was. Elko worked as a potter, trading his bowls and
vessels for food and clothing, and he lived in a large home made
from sun-hardened bricks he made himself. He had a good woman and
they were soon expecting a child. Everyone outside his immediate
family held him in high regard as a man of ideas.
"Look at you! You call this work? You could be out growing
food, building aqueducts! Instead you sit in this fancy hut of
yours and play with mud. It's like you never grew up."
"Father, what would you store your grain in if you didn't
have my vessels? They'd still be in a heap under a blanket, being
eaten by birds, rats, and bugs."
"Making pots is a woman's job."
It was useless. No matter what he did, Elko couldn't convince
his father that what he was doing was useful. Despite his success,
this bothered him, and sometimes he lie awake at night trying to
think of a way to change his father's mind.
It came to him on one of those days when he felt he was being
watched, while he was busy filling an order of 24 vessels for
Yurdmal the Trader. Elko had fashioned a round table that he could
spin by kicking at thick pegs radiating from the base. The whole
table was very heavy but well balanced in a depression in the
floor --- once he got it going, it would continue spinning for
quite a while. It wasn't his idea, but it was one he'd improved
upon. The spinning table allowed him to make the smoothest and
most uniform vessels in the region, and quickly too. He made them
by the dozens and sold them cheap.
Being in a hurry that day, Elko kicked the table too hard. It
lost its balance, and he was just able to leap back as it tipped
over and went rolling around the room. It reminded Elko of
something he'd seen as a child --- some faint, dream image
reaching out from years past. He watched the table rolling until
it stopped, then took a breath and went to it. The gods, he was
sure, were laughing at him. But after a few minutes of grunting
Elko had the table into position and went right back to work. His
mind, however, was far from what he was doing.
That night, from the finest of his brick-making clay, Elko
made four large round bricks with holes in the exact center. After

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a week of drying in the sunlight they were rock hard, and he
mounted them onto two poles. Across the poles he put a big, strong
basket, fastening it tight. When he was done he tested it out, and
it worked just like he thought it would. So, gathering his nerve,
he rolled his invention out to his father in the fields. "I made
this for you," he said. "This should make it easier to carry in