The One

The OneCopyright

Edward C. Maurer

Anders—Anders!! Come sit with us today.” Karl called to thereclusive watchmaker walking to the lone bench he sat on everydayduring his midday meal. “Anders…don’t you like us? Come on…justthis once; we won’t bite.” Karl turned to his beloved, Marie, andwhispered, “You know, he’s a nice enough fellow, but he’ll neverhave a sweetheart until he starts to take an interest in people. I justdon’t know what it is about him. We’ve been friends for years, but hejust won’t open up.”

“No, I don’t think so today, Karl.” Anders answered, waving atthe village cobbler. “Maybe some other time.” Anders sat down onthe stone bench facing the fountain he occupied every day but theSabbath, which, like his fellow villagers in this Carolina valley, hekept without exception.

Karl waved back, shaking his head. “See, I told you he wouldn’tcome,” he disappointedly murmured as he turned his attention back tohis young companion. “He’s not getting any younger, Marie. His lifewill be a living hell if he never meets anyone.” Karl stood, wiping hismouth with a napkin, “I’m going to go talk with him. I’ll be rightback.”

“Oh, Karl, leave him alone. He’ll meet someone. Even you did,yes?” She said with a smirk as she took Karl’s hand in her own. “He’stoo nice to go alone very long. His life won’t be hell, sweetheart.He’ll be fine, just stop worrying about him and pay more attention tome before you have to go back to your shop.”

Karl sat down at her insistence. The young couple held eachother close, but he couldn’t help but steal a glance at the lone figurewho chose to spend his time by himself.

Anders spread a small cloth on his lap before eating. It was oftena fancy blue one he spent more money on than he felt he should, buttoday it was just a brown cloth, a little threadbare, stained, and tat-tered at the corners. From his satchel he removed a loaf of brownbread, a piece of cheese, and a small bottle of sweet, but weak elder-berry wine he placed beside him on the bench.

This was his daily, unwavering custom: To work not long aftersunrise, a midday meal signaled by the twelve chimes of the churchclock, back to his shop a half-hour later, and work until the sun left

the windows of his shop, making it difficult to continue the workrepairing watches and clocks. He kept this strict routine to ensure hewould never find idleness in his life or be tempted into the kind offoolishness that killed his father when Anders was but a boy of seven.It was the shock of seeing his father die and his mother struggle tokeep a roof above their heads along the banks of the small, SmokyMountain stream that kept Anders hard at work. He daily repeated tohimself his minister’s remonstration that “idle hands are the Devil’sworkshop.” He swore to himself to never allow idleness to ruin hislife as it had his father’s and his family’s.

As Anders began to slice a piece of cheese with the small knifehe carried at his waist, he noticed before him the skirts of a womanwho seemed to appear from nowhere. As usual, he was not payingany mind to people around him; he was simply concentrating on hisdaily respite of eating his meal with little concern for the doings ofothers.

Anders shifted his gaze upward to see who would be so bold toimpose herself on a total stranger.

She wore a dress that flowed from her waist like a black and redwaterfall of fine wool. Her close-fitting jacket was red and accentedin black. He saw her clothes were finely made and, since most of thewomen of this valley sewed their own clothes, he made a quick judg-ment of the maker as someone who took pride in her work. A crafts-man himself, he respected able people, even if he wasn’t in the habitof liking everybody.

Anders froze the moment they looked one another in the eyes.Never had he noticed her before, though she taught the local schoolchildren for more than a year now. Her auburn hair was tied back inthe common style of young women; a shock fell loosely just abovegreen eyes that twinkled when she spoke.

She looked Anders straight in the eyes and began to speak,“I’m….”

Anders, courteous as always, stood as she was speaking. Hespilled his brown lunch cloth with its cheese, knife and bread to theground at their feet.

“Oh.” he exclaimed, realizing he was making a fool of himself infront of this amazing woman . “I, …” Anders quickly knelt to retrievethe lunch, as did she.

She picked up the bread and offered it to Anders, whose face wasreddening. They were so close their faces were almost touching. “I’mJohana,” she said looking him in the eye and trying not to laugh. Sheraised it to her face to take in the aroma, closing her eyes as she didso. With a sigh of satisfaction she whispered, “This is very goodbread, it would be a shame to leave it for the birds.”

Anders took the bread without taking his eyes off hers. “Oh,I’……Anders,” he stammered as his face reddened to a warm crim-son.

Johana focused on his blue eyes and noticed he was quick toblush. How cute, she thought to herself, very unusual for a man thesedays. “I was wondering if I might share the bench with you, Anders.”Never had anyone who knew Anders asked to share the bench withhim before.

“The bench?” Anders hesitated, having never been asked thequestion. “Why, yes. Yes, you may Johana. It would bemy…uh…pleasure.” He nervously turned and motioned for her to sitdown.

As she seated herself on the right side of the small bench, Andersstood for a moment not knowing what to do next, having never actu-ally shared his bench before. She looked up at the craftsman in hissimple, brown work clothes. “Well?” She patted the seat next to her.“Are you going to sit down? It is your bench, after all.” She felt astrange, heady feeling pass through her like the feeling she got whendrinking wine. She knew something special had just happened, butshe couldn’t put a finger on it. Could it be…No, it couldn’t be that.Though she believed in love at first sight, she had never actually feltit herself.

Anders sat next to Johana, careful to not sit close enough to touchher. The bench allowed two people to sit far enough apart in the nameof good manners, but not enough to ignore each other. In fact, loversoccupied the benches around the fountain in the courtyard eachevening, but this is something Anders would not know, having neverbeen in love….

Now that Anders had gotten over the initial shock of the moment,he returned to his usual self. He arranged his bread and cheese on thebrown cloth he had laid back on his lap after spilling everything. Ashe wiped the blade of his knife on his apron, he noticed his hand was

trembling ever so slightly. Beginning to slice a piece of cheese, itoccurred to him that he was being rude by not offering to share withthis young woman he found so instantly amazing. As Anders turnedto Johana to offer to share his lunch, he saw she was gazing at him.He opened his mouth to speak. Nothing happened. No thoughts cameto his mind; no words to his lips. Johana realized Anders had actuallyintended to say something but had apparently gotten stuck. Shesmiled, “Yes? Did you want to say something?”

Anders became aware she was speaking to him. “Yes.” He almostyelled with a start. “I, uh, would you like to share my lunch…withme?” He was nervously smiling trying to cover up his embarrassmentof not being able to speak just a moment earlier. “I have bread andcheese and wine and I’d be very happy to share it with you.” Heshowed his teeth and his eyes got very wide as he nodded in a mannerthat might convince Johana to agree with him.

Johana smiled, and giggled a little, curious about this nervousman and his strange way of talking with strangers. Of course, shethought to herself, if he’s as taken with me as he seems to be…. Shelet the thought drift. Stifling a second giggle she said, “I would loveto share your lunch, Anders.”

Anders never made it back to work that day, but spent the entireafternoon with his new friend.

Over the many weeks that followed their first meeting, the youngcouple ate lunch together, shared dinner many times, went on longwalks, and even sat together at worship. She would take him shop-ping and, more than once, he was embarrassed to be seen by theother fellows as he carried armloads of fabric she had bought fromthe tradesmen and weavers.

As their relationship grew, Anders found in Johana the kind ofwarmth and security he had longed for since he was a child. Hismother, having to support herself and her young son, spent most ofher days working for other people in their homes ironing and clean-ing, taking in laundry, or sewing and repaired clothing for others.After awhile, she lost the love she had for the boy and began to lookupon him as the reason for her plight. Seeking to rid herself of him,she sent him away to apprentice with a watchmaker in a town in thenext valley. At the age of 10, the boy was to live with strangers, only

to see his mother on the rarest of occasions when his master madetrips to Anders’ village. By the time he was 12, Anders’ mother suc-cumbed to the depression and unspoken guilt she bore for havingfailed as both a wife and a mother, and took her own life. Having nowlost both parents, and being forced into servitude, the young boyassumed his own cloak of depression that would stay with him untilthe day he met Johana.

Anders found himself absent mindedly carving Johana’s name inhis workbench one morning, it was then he realized he was in loveand had to tell her. He was unprepared to have these feelings, thoughhe had longed for something—someone—to make him happy again.Unskilled at love, or even the basics of relationships with the oppo-site sex, Anders began to doubt Johana’s obvious fondness for him.He had to know. Though they spent so much time together, had somuch fun together, and even kept the Sabbath together, Anders feltshe wasn’t feeling for him the way he felt for her. He would ask, “Doyou like me?”

She would answer, “Yes, you know I do.”“Are you happy with me”“You know I am.”And then one day, while shopping with each other at the Satur-

day fair in the village courtyard, Anders asked, “Do you love me?”Johana only pursed her lips and gave no answer.He asked again, “Johana, do you love me?”Again, she didn’t answer. She only looked at him with pursed lips

and didn’t seem to know how to answer, for the idea of falling in lovehad never occurred to her though, she had become very fond of him.She woke each morning looking forward to seeing him. She dressedin a manner she thought would please him and in the evening, whenshe went to bed she fell asleep thinking of Anders.

Anders did not know what to do. When he wasn’t around Johana,every tick of the clock in the town square seemed to take an eternity.Every happy couple seemed to be laughing at him. They weren’t, ofcourse, it just seemed they were. He was completely miserable. Hespoke to his minister, the Reverend Mr. Schmidt, who told him to bepatient, “All in God’s time,” he said. He spoke to Karl, his onlyfriend, who helped him home one night after Anders drank too muchat the tavern. Karl, in spite of having pushed Anders to meet someone

and fall in love, said to forget about her. There would be otherwomen; he and Marie would help. But Anders knew better. Neveragain would he meet someone like Johana. “She’s the only womanI’ve ever loved, Karl.” Anders said one evening while the two youngmen repaired the shoemaker’s shop door. “She’s the one, I’ll neverfind another like her; she’s truly the one, Karl. Truly…The One.”

Anders was sitting at his workbench, unable to do his work,unable to think about anything or anyone but Johana, when a tall manentered his workshop and stood silently until noticed. The distractedwatchmaker seemed to feel the man’s presence before he saw or heardhim. Turning to face the man, Anders saw he had a dark complexionwith black eyes and an equally black beard. The man’s clothes werealso black. Anders got a very strange, uncomfortable feeling. A chillran down his spine.

“Hello, Anders.” The man’s voice was low and had a smooth, richtone like the sound of a large, brass horn.

“Who are you, friend?” Anders asked, a little hesitantly. “Howcan I help you?”

“I have many names, my friend.” The man stepped forward,offering his hand to Anders. Shaking hands with the man, Anderscould feel not only an immense amount of strength, but also a warmfeeling that made his hand feel numb, like it was strangely drunk.

The man held Anders’ hand in his firm grasp. “I have come tohelp you, young man.”

Anders withdrew his hand. “Help me?” He took a step back,though he wasn’t sure why; the stranger seemed friendly enough.“What can you help me with?”

“I can help you with the one thing you cannot help yourself with.I can help where no one else has been able.” The man’s voice seemedto deepen a bit. “I can even answer the question the priest, Schmidt,could not.”

Anders could feel the man’s power inside himself almost asthough this strange man had reached inside Anders’ chest andgrabbed his heart. “And,” the man continued, “I can solve your prob-lem. All you have to do is ask.” With that, the man turned and strodeout the shop door. Anders rushed out after him, but he was nowhereto be seen.

All that night, Anders lay awake in bed with thoughts of Johanakeeping him awake. Images of the strange man also coursed throughhis mind, interrupting thoughts of his beloved. Each time he thoughtof her, the man’s face would appear silently mouthing, “I can answerthe question…I can answer the question….”

A cock crowed as the first rays of the morning sun poured yellowand orange beams of light through clouds building on the horizon.Anders watched as the fields east of the village came into focus in thenew light. He listened to the sound realizing he couldn’t face anotherday not knowing if Johana loved him. His chest became tight as tearswelled up in his eyes. “Help me, oh dear God, please help me,” hepleaded.

That same day, Johana rose with the first light of day as shealways did. Clothed only in a chemise, she sat at the small table nextto the fireplace opposite her bed. She poured herself some tea and satcontemplating the cup as the cool liquid it held slowly stilled. Ashimmer of morning light glinted off the tea’s smooth surface. As shestared into the cup, Johana realized the empty, but strangely fullfeeling she had in the pit of her stomach…her wakefulness…herwandering mind…were the unmistakable signs of love she had toface.

“I need to tell him today.” She explained out loud to the cup.“Oh, I need him. I never knew it was like this.” Johana stood up fromthe table and walked over to the window that faced the morning andyelled for all to hear, “I love you, Anders. I love you. I love you. Ilove you!”

Anders sat at his workbench much of the morning thinking aboutJohana, paying little attention to his work. Several hours into hismorning a tall man wearing a dark cloak and wolf skin cap enteredthe shop. Anders watched him a few moments before saying anything.“Can I help you?” he said, hesitantly, not knowing if this was thesame, strange man he met the previous day. The man turned to facethe anxious craftsman, and extended a closed right hand. “Can youfix this?” He spoke in a stern voice with an accent unrecognizable to

Anders. The man opened his hand, “I’m told you’re the best watch-maker in the valley.” Anders could see the small timepiece was inneed of repair. Its crystal was broken and the hour hand was twisted.“I’m just passing through and I need my watch. Well? Can you fixit?” The man seemed irritated that Anders only stared at the watchwithout answering. “Well? Can you answer my question?”

“Yes.” Anders came back to reality, “Yes, I have the answer.”Furrowing his brow, the man gave Anders a serious look, won-

dering what the matter was with the craftsman. “I have the answer.”Anders became animated. “Can you come back tomorrow after din-ner? I’ll have it for you then.”

The man shook his head, “Yes, I can come then.” He lookedAnders straight in the eye. “Are you sure you can repair it?”

Anders assured the stranger he could and showed him to the door.Two more customers came during the morning to pick up

watches Anders, the best watchmaker in the valley, had repaired.

Johana was sitting in front of her mirror brushing her hair as thechurch clock struck eleven. “One hour and I can tell him I love him.”She said out loud to her reflection in the silvered mirror. “One hour.”On the bed to her side lay the black and red dress she wore the dayshe and Anders met.

The midday chimes of the church clock alerted both Anders andJohana to the time of day they had met almost every day for the pastmonths. Even many of the townspeople knew this was the time thecouple could be found sitting together on the small bench. Sometownsfolk even began asking others to vacate the bench as the noonhour approached so the two could be together undisturbed.

Johana was in her doorway before the sixth chime rang. Herauburn hair shone in the noonday sun, her face glowed and her eyestwinkled with anticipation. Her bright, happy smile contrasted withthe black and red dress she wore to commemorate the day she hadfirst met “her” Anders. She had made up her mind it would be herwedding dress as well. She stepped lightly into the street and almostdanced in the direction of the courtyard where she would soon finallydeclare herself to her beloved craftsman.

The sixth chime of that same noon hour was ringing when thedark stranger stepped through Anders’ doorway. He closed the doorbehind him and locked it shut. Anders was removing his apron whenhe heard the click of the lock’s bronze tumblers fall into place. Heturned to find himself face-to-face with the man he had met the daybefore. “Oh.” Anders was surprised to see the curious stranger. “Ididn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“You didn’t?” the man’s eyes peered into Anders’ own. “Youshouldn’t be so surprised, my friend. You called for help this verymorning as the first cock of the day crowed; did you not?” He thrustthe lifeless body of a large, red rooster at the craftsman, whostumbled backwards in horror. “See? This is the cock that started yourlife today Anders. Take it.”

Anders was aghast. He stumbled backward until he was pinnedagainst his workbench. Horrified at the site of the dead fowl he raisedhis hands before him preparing to ward off the stranger’s next sur-prise. “No…no…don’t,” he stammered.

“Take it. Take the damned bird, Anders.” The man’s face dark-ened with rage as he shook the rooster in Anders’ face. “Take it,” heuttered in a cruel, guttural tone to the frightened craftsman. “Takeit…take it now….consider it a…token…a token of your desire,Anders. A small sacrifice for what—love? That is what you want,isn’t it? So, what’s the life of a mere chicken compared to the loveyou whimpered for in your prayer this morning? Hmmm?”

Instantly overcome and weakened by the man’s voice, Andersinvoluntarily reached out to take the bird from the imposing figurebefore him. His hand trembled as he took the bird by its feet. The bilerose in his throat. “I didn’t call you,” Anders forced the words, toomuch in fear for his own life to even consider disobeying. “I didn’tcall you. I didn’t.”

The man’s face calmed and a smile, almost a sneer, came to hislips as he lied to the frightened mortal. “You did, my friend. You did.I’m here to answer your prayer. You do remember your prayer, don’tyou? Now, relax so we can talk.”

With those words, Anders felt his fear leave him. He turned andcalmly placed the body of the lifeless rooster on his workbench,smoothing its feathers as he did so. “So, how can I help you today?”

He spoke in the same calm voice he normally used with Johana. Hewas totally defenseless against the stranger’s advances.

“I think it is you who needs help.” The being took Anders’ righthand in his own. “Tell me what you want and it shall be yours.”

Anders looked into his new confidant’s face in an almost child-like manner. “I want Johana. I love her, but she doesn’t want me,” heresponded. The craftsman smiled at the entity that stood there holdinghis hand like a father would his son’s. “I want her to love me the restof my life. I want to marry her and make her happy the rest of mydays.”

“You do, do you?” it said , eyes lighting up at the prospect of anew deal to be made. “I may be able…no…my friend…I can helpyou.”

“I’d do anything to repay you if you could.” Anders leanedcloser. “I’d truly do anything for you if you could do this for me. Itruly would. I would be the best husband. I would love her foreverand make her happy if you could just do this. I would forever be inyour debt.”

“Forever? You mean that?”“Yes, forever. You have my word on it.”“Done,” said the being. “Then it is done, my friend.”“It is?” Anders had a look of surprise, the look of a child on

Christmas day when he finds a present in his stocking.“Yes, I only need to ask you for a favor in return.”“I told you: anything. Just name it.” Anders grasped the entity’s

right hand in both of his, “Name it my new friend, and it shall beyours. By the way, if we are to be friends, what do I call you?”

“Well, people who know me around these parts just call me ‘OldNick’ Anders, I’d like you to visit me for awhile, Anders.”

“Old Nick…I’ve heard that name…forgive me, but it’s prettycommon, and you don’t look that old, Nick. What’s your Christianname?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say a “Christian” name is appropriate, Anders,let’s just leave it at ‘Old Nick,’ that seems to work for most folks,especially once they get to know me.”

Anders scratched his chin, pondering the response for a moment.“And all you want is a visit? All you want me to do is visit you?”

“Yes, a visit, a long term visit, Anders. You would be my personal

guest. You see, where I come from, we have a shortage of…souls. Asoul like yours would mean so much to us.” The man peered deeplyinto Anders’ eyes, and into the very soul he desired forhis…collection. “I want your soul, my friend. That’s all, I just wantyour soul.”

“Done.” Anders naively exclaimed, shaking the stranger’s handin his own. With the agreement sworn to, the being masquerading asman turned, walked slowly to the door and unlocked it. As it openedthe door he turned to Anders. “It’s a deal. A pledge, Anders.” Heturned back and stepped into the street.

“Nick?” Anders yelled to the stranger as he disappeared into thelunchtime crowd, “When do you want my soul? Not for a while Ihope. I’m getting married, you know!”

The twelfth chime announcing the noon hour sounded as Andershurried from his shop to meet the first truelove of his life.

“Johana!” Anders yelled as he ran across the courtyard to her,indifferent about who saw or heard him. “Johana! Oh, my dear, Icould not wait to see you today, I, I….”

The girl held her hands out to her beaux, “Anders, I have some-thing to say, please just hold me,” she said as she flung her armsaround him. “Anders, I love you! I knew it just this morning! I loveyou and will always be with you my Anders!

Anders held her tightly in his slightly quivering arms, “I knewyou would my Johana, I knew you would.”

“Knew I would? Would, not do?”Anders held her face in his hands and gently kissed her lips. “I

prayed for it just this very day my love. Then a man came to me just ashort while ago, I know he was an angel, and told me you would loveme. He told me and I couldn’t wait to see you!”

“An angel, Anders? An angel told you I would love you? Maybehe heard me this morning when I was yelling it all over the valley!”

“Yes, that’s it, he must have heard. Isn’t it wonderful? I am themost happy man on Earth right now. And when the time comes, whenI have breathed my last my sweet dear, he promised me my soulwould be his. We will be together for all time, I know that now. Youare truly the one and always, always will be now.”

The two lovers stood holding each other, eyes closed, oblivious

of the sudden, cold breeze that blew down the valley….

A fortnight later, Anders and Johana were married by the fountainand in front of the bench were they had met so many months before.The entire town turned out for the wedding of the once reclusiveyoung man and the woman who was so obviously in love with him.Karl was Anders’ best man and his own love, Marie, was Johana’sbridesmaid.

The two were inseparable and a perfect match. By the timeAnders had risen each morning, Johana had his breakfast waiting. Hewent to work each day with her on his mind. (Some even say theynoticed him at his workbench, staring off into space with a smile andstarry eyes.) At lunch Johana would meet Anders and together theywould stroll arm-in-arm to “their” bench by the fountain. There theywould sit so close barely a hint of sunlight could be seen between theyoung couple. As always, they would share a piece of cheese, a loafof dark bread and a bottle, (sometimes two bottles) of elderberrywine. Of course, they ate upon the fancy blue cloth he had spent somuch money on; the tattered brown one he dropped the first day theymet having been relegated to a special place in their home. In theevening there would be a fine dinner waiting for Anders when hereturned home from making watches that were said to be even betterthan he had made before meeting Johana.

About half a year after Anders and Johana had married, sheawoke one morning sick to her stomach. Worried, Anders stayed withher while she was ill, which only lasted for a few hours, but happenedseveral days in a row. After a few days later, Johana realized she waswith child. She told Anders at lunch, while they sat on their bench bythe fountain so closely no sunlight could be seen between them.Anders was so happy, he cried.

The village clock was just beginning to ring the first of its mid-night chimes when Anders woke to find the stranger he had met ayear before standing beside his bed. “Anders, Anders my friend, weneed to talk. Come with me, if you please.” Anders dutifully rose,gathered his nightshirt around him and followed the stranger, whomhe believed to be an angel, into the main room of their home. “My

young friend,” Old Nick held both of Anders’ hands in his own, “it isnow time for you to come…visit. I’ve come to collect your soul, myfriend.”

“What?” Anders struggled to free his hands, but to no avail. Hewas trapped. “Take my soul? What do you mean, Nick?” He tried tomake sense of what he was hearing. “Take my soul? How? I mean,it’s only been…oh my God. It’s been a year. Only a year since we gotmarried. This is our anniversary! Oh, God. No. Oh….But Nick,you’re an angel! How can this be? Am I not supposed to be with myJohana for decades to come?”

“Anders,” Nick looked him deep in the eyes, “I’m not that kindof angel,” he said with a sneer, his lip rolling up at the corner to ex-pose a long, brown canine tooth. “You made your pledge and Godwon’t help you now. He rejected your plea for help the first time. Itwas your greed that made you cry out to Him, your greed to have thatwoman when all you had to do was give it time, but, no, you wereimpatient and would not wait, so what you got was me.” The creaturecaressed Anders’ face with the back of his fingers as one would achild…or a favorite dog. “What makes you think He’ll help now?Stop being such a damned fool. This is your doing. Yours and yoursalone. You’ll just have to settle for being damned.”

Anders panicked; he couldn’t free himself from Nick’s grasp. Hemadly thrashed about like a mouse trapped by a cat. He yelled out forthe love of his life who carried their child, “Johana. Johana. Help Me.Oh, my God Johana, he’s killing me!”

Johana slept soundly, unable to hear his pleas, for no sound leftthe void into which Anders’ soul had already departed. Their unbornchild turned away from its dying father.

“Johana. Oh, my God, Johana…Johana….”

Anders was buried in the churchyard the next day, the first anni-versary of his wedding. The village physician could find no cause forhis death. Anders’ face was calm, he bore no wounds, there was nosign of his struggle with the Master of Darkness. That afternoon, theReverend Mr. Schmidt, who married the two lovers a year earlier, andconsecrated Anders’ body to the ground, died writhing in pain on thefloor of his rectory as he was writing his next sermon.

Old Nick laughed and a cold wind blew down the valley giving

the villagers a chill down their spines.Johana lost her unborn child before sunrise. In the days following

the loss of her baby and beloved Anders, the first man she had everloved, Johana fell into a deep sadness from which she could notrecover. Reverend Schmidt was in turn buried by the village elders.With no one to minister to Johana, the older women of the village didthe best they could to help her through the loss of her beloved hus-band and child. But, having no other recourse, the villagers soldAnders’ and Johana’s belongings and sent her to a sanitarium whereshe lived out her days in melancholy solitude, forever grieving herloss.

When Anders arrived in his final place, he again came face-to-face with the stranger, Old Nick. He now knew exactly whom he wasdealing with, the name was an old one only whispered by the moun-tain folk who blessed themselves when it slipped out of an unguardedmouth. He thought it was familiar when the stranger first came tohim, but in his innocence had failed to recognize it for the threat itwas. He now knew.

“Anders, my young friend. Welcome. We’ve been waiting foryou.” Old Nick seemed very pleased with himself. He was; it wasn’tvery often he could entice a soul as pure as Anders’ to enter thisplace. “Welcome my friend. I have a very special…residence…foryou.” He beckoned for the new arrival to follow.

He led Anders to a greasy, black cauldron the size of a whiskeybarrel. The craftsman could sense the unmistakable, acrid odor of hotbrimstone. A visible pall, the stench of an outhouse on a hot summerday, hung in the air—the remains of the doomed detritus of humanity.A din of uncountable voices could be heard throughout the place.Agonized screams and painful moans permeated the stagnant, foulatmosphere. It was the way the writer Dante described it…maybeworse. “Anders, I’ve been saving this for you.” Anders stood beforethe cauldron. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get in. You’re home.”The Master, Anders’ new master, let loose a hearty, hollow laugh asthe doomed craftsman dutifully climbed into the blackened vessel.

“My friend, this is where you will spend your eternity. You did itfor love.” The entity leaned forward and placed its hands on the rimof the cauldron. “So, is it worth it?”

Anders gazed into the vacant, black eyes of his new landlord.“Yes, I think it is.” With that, Old Nick spat in his face and the caul-dron burst into flames that engulfed Anders in a heat greater than hehad ever experienced.

“How about now, lover? How about now?” He sneered as theflames burned the craftsman’s skin until it began to boil and char.“Was a year with your precious Johana worth it? Was it?”

Anders had never experienced, no—suffered—such agonizingpain. His skin bubbled, charred, and healed again, only to beginincinerating over and over. “Yes, yes it was,” he screamed inagony…. “Oh, Johana…Johana!”

“What? I can’t hear you. Speak up, damn you. Oh. Too late, youalready are…damned, that is.” With a cackle, he turned and strolledaway, leaving Anders to burn in the cauldron for all eternity.

Eons passed with Anders burning in the cauldron of fire. Overand over again he turned molten, and charred, only to heal again andrepeat the process of incineration. With each healing, the cock thathad been sacrificed as a token of Anders’ love for Johana would peckat the watchmaker’s seared flesh. All because of the pledge he madeto a stranger. More and more countless souls entered this place toreceive their punishment for lives mis-spent or for deals mis-made.The cries of his fellow, damned souls became part of Anders’. But inspite of the agonizing tortures, he never forgot his beloved Johana.

After so many eons his village was forgotten and his valley wasabsorbed into nations he could have never imagined, Anders wasonce again approached by Old Nick. “So, how’s it going?” The Mas-ter quelled the flames as he was speaking to the old hand, Anders.“Any recriminations?”

Smoke rolled from Anders’ skin as it began to heal yet again.“About what?” he asked his terminal host.

“About love, about that, that, woman,” he said, spitting out thelast word as though it were a piece of rotting flesh.

“About Johana?” Anders knew exactly what the question wasabout. “No, you son of a bitch, I’ve done nothing but think of her allthis time. You may have me in this hell and you may burn me andhave that damned bird feed on me with every healing, but no, damnyou, you’ll not make me forget about her. No, I know that not letting

me forget is part of your torture, but it’s the part that you can’t takefrom me. Make me forget and you only lessen my agony, and thatwon’t be enough for you, will it, Nick? No, your own greed onlygives me the strength I need, you son of a bitch.

“God, you’re stupid,” the host tauntingly placed his hand over hisown mouth, stifling a laugh. “Sorry, I almost forgot. It was God youasked for help, wasn’t? And you got me.” Old Nick began laughingso hard tears would have come from his eyes had he been capable ofshedding them. He sneered. Flames leapt up around Anders onceagain. “I’ll be back you fool, I’ll be back. Think about your Johana,maybe you’ll come to blame her for this and not me…maybe youwill….” He left to have words with other unfortunates.

Anders knew he himself was to blame, not Johana. The thoughtof her as the cause of his interminable grief and suffering was impos-sible. Knowing his torture was because of the brief time they hadtogether and their love for one another only strengthened him and hisresolve to survive.

Infinitely more time passed before his host once again stopped tospeak with Anders. “My friend,” he quelled the flames that torturedAnders for so many lifetimes. “I’ve been thinking about our deal.”

Anders looked at him pensively. “Oh, what now,” he thought tohimself.

“I heard that, my friend.” Old Nick continued, “I’ve thoughtabout our deal and have decided to give you another chance, just tosee how you do another time around.”

“What?” Anders was caught completely off guard. “What do youmean?”

“Well, I gave you a raw deal the last time, and I’d like to give youanother chance to have a long, full life.”

“How? How can you do that? How can I do that? I mean, I’vebeen gone so long…what will I come back as? A dog? What?”Anders was rightly apprehensive at the offer, keeping mind who wasmaking it.

“What I’ll do is,” Old Nick placed an insidious, fatherly handupon Anders’ shoulder. “I’ll return you to your own time. To the dayyou met…what was her name? Oh, yeah, Johana.”

“You will?” Anders almost leapt out of the cauldron in excite-

ment. “The very day?”“Yeah, I’ll do that for you. I’ll even let you meet her again, and

let you two get a chance to know one another…all over again.” And,Anders, you’ll even be aware of what happened the last time. Youwon’t be able to influence anything, but you will know what hap-pened before. It’ll give you something to look forward to. And. tomake up for, how shall we say—lost time—Johana will make up hermind about you even sooner than she did before. You won’t have towait so long and go through that grief all over again. Well, Anders,my friend, is it a deal?

“Yes.” Anders cried, “Yes. I’ll do it, I’ll….”

Anders spread a small cloth on his lap before eating. It was oftena fancy blue one he spent more money on than he felt he should, buttoday it was just a brown cloth, a little threadbare, stained, and tat-tered at the corners. From his satchel he removed a loaf of brownbread, a hand of cheese, and a small bottle of elderberry wine heplaced beside him on the bench. As he began to slice a piece ofcheese with the small knife he kept at his waist, he noticed the skirtsof a woman who seemed to appear from nowhere. He stared at thehem of the seemingly familiar, and noticeably well-made, black andred skirt. He felt compelled to see whom this was standing beforehim. As he looked up into her eyes, he felt a pang of intimacy thatseemed all too familiar. Memories of who this is and what she meantto him at one time, what she still meant to him, came rushing back.

“Excuse me, I’m…,” Johana began.Anders jumped to his feet, clumsily spilling his bread and cheese

at her feet once again. She quickly stepped back to avoid the calamitythe man was making. Embarrassed at the scene she had unwittinglybecome part of, “Why, I never. I, I….” she sneered as she continuedto back away lest this mere tradesman actually touch her.

“Such, such…pandemonium over meeting someone!” Johanaexclaimed, holding her hands closed tightly against her breast. “Is thishow you act? Now I see why people talk about you as being lonely.Who could bear such rudeness!”

Old Nick snickered as he watched the scene unfold. Thecraftsman’s chaos was…exquisite. “Pandemonium, how I’ve lovedthe sound of that word. Leave it to a teacher to use Milton’s word in

such a way. The boy doesn’t stand a chance in…. Yeah, his paradisewill soon be lost, too” He closed his eyes and shook his head side toside in glee.

Anders gathered his lunch into the cloth and placed it on thebench. “This isn’t right,” he thought to himself. “She didn’t act likethat the last time,” but he spoke the last thought out loud, loudenough for her to hear.

“Last time? What last time?” She stood before him, hands on herhips. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” he said, “I, uh, I’m sorry, Miss. How canI help you?”

“I understand you are a good watchmaker. But I don’t see howanyone so clumsy can repair a watch, let alone make one.”

“Well, many people bring their watches to me, Miss. Is theresomething you need?” She stepped forward and offered a watch tohim. “Here, it’s my watch, it’s broken. I need it fixed. Can you do it?”

“Yes, I can fix it, will you come by my shop tomorrow to pick itup? Say, around lunch time?” He took the timepiece from her. It wassmall and finely made with a gold body and flowers painted on theface. “Maybe you can join me for lunch and I can give it to youthen?”

“Lunch? With you? I don’t think so. As a matter of fact, I’ll senda girl to fetch it from you. Good day.” She turned and strode away ina haughty manner he had never seen her assume before.

Anders watched her until she disappeared around a corner, thenplaced his uneaten lunch back in his satchel and, dejected, returned tohis workshop.

Anders lay awake all that night confused about Johana’s reactionto him. “This is not how it happened last time. This is not how ithappened.” He shouted to no one as he sat up in his bed, clenchinghis fists as the realization of what might be happening made itselfclear to him. “No. No. Oh, God no.” he screamed.

A cock crowed as the first rays of the morning sun turned theeastern horizon a light salmon color. “No…no…no….” could beheard in the street as far away as the stone bench near the fountain inthe town square.

At the sixth chime of the twelve that announced the noon hour, aman dressed in black stepped into Anders’ shop. He turned andlocked the door behind him. Anders was waiting for him. Before hecould say anything, the craftsman boldly approached him.

“What happened. What happened yesterday you son of a bitch?”Anders angrily shouted, knowing that he had already experienced theworst his former host could dish out. “What happened?”

“Now, calm down,” Old Nick offered his right hand to Anders. “Idid exactly what I said I would do, my old friend.” The humor of thesituation showed on Nick’s dark face. He smiled, exposing yellow-brown teeth and a slight odor of death.

Anders recoiled from the controlling gesture. “We had a deal.You said everything would be like it was before. Just like it wasbefore.”

“Well, that’s not what I said, exactly, Anders.” Old Nick furrowedhis eyebrows and peered in the furious man’s eyes. “I never saidshe’d love you. I never said that.”

“But you said…”“I said you would return here as though nothing had happened. I

said you would know her. And you do now, don’t you? Did I sayanything about her loving you? No, I did not. You’re not any smarterthan the last time you were here, are you? I knew you for a fool whenI saw you. A top shelf fool. Such as easy mark, too, actually. But,you’ve been fun, Anders.” he said, snickering to himself. Like a catwith a mouse, Old Nick continued the game he had begun so longago.

“No, you didn’t say she would love me again. But…” Andersturned away, knowing he had fallen prey to empty promises yet again.“you never intended for her to love me, did you?

“I had nothing to do with her falling in love the first time,Anders. She was on her way to tell you when you made your dealwith me. Kind of…poetic, don’t you think? So, it is I who has kepthis word, isn’t it? And, you?”

“What?” Anders screamed as he leapt at Old Nick, who swattedhim aside, sending him skidding across the shop floor. Coming to restagainst his workbench, Anders pointed an accusing finger at hisadversary. A trickle of blood ran down his chin. He spat a bloody globat the being standing before him. “You mean to tell me she loved me

before we spoke? She was going to tell me that very day?” Andersrealized his pledge had doomed not only himself, but Johana and theirunborn child. He knew nothing of the Reverend Mr. Schmidt’s quickdeath following his own. “Son of a bitch…what have I done? Whathave I done….”

You want to go back on your pledge? After all I’ve done for you?And you met her yesterday, again thanks to me, right? And didn’t Itell you she would know her feelings much sooner than last time andsave you all that grief? Didn’t I? Didn’t she?”

“Yes…but you said nothing about…and you said you’d save meall that grief, and you didn’t!”

“It’s all about you, isn’t it? That’s common, I guess. Maybe that’swhy it’s so crowded down ‘there.’ Oh, well, this time it’s a differentkind of grief, isn’t it?” Old Nick looked the watchmaker in the eyes,again peering into the soul that once again was at his mercy. “I of-fered you a chance to have her love the first time. Okay, that wasn’tmy doing, but it’s the thought that counts.” Again he snickered, en-joying the game he played with this mere, all too fallible mortal.“Now this time, I’ve given your life back to you, to do as you please.And that’s not enough? I’ve got a million souls like yours, souls ofpeople who….” Old Nick, shook his head and allowed the words todrift off unfinished.

“Is this the way it’s going to be? I’ll have my life, but not her?Not my Johana?” Tears came to Anders’ eyes as he realized he hadeverything, but at the same time, nothing. Not the one thing, not thelove of that one person who would make his life worth living. “I wantto go back. Take me back.”

“Me, my, I. You still haven’t changed after all this time, haveyou? Back? Do you know what you’re asking? It’s back to the caul-dron, back to the fires.”

“I know,” Anders’ lips barely moved with his words. “If I can’thave her, if I can’t have her love, then all of this is, is worth nothingto me. Life is not worth living without her.”

“Unchanged…oh, well, I tried…. It’s the cauldron, you know.”“I know. And I know I’d rather burn again in your hell for all

eternity if I can’t have her love.”

As the midday chimes sounded, Johana peered through Anders’shop window. During the night she sensed she felt something for thestrange, bumbling watchmaker. And for some inexplicable reason, sheknew she couldn’t live without him. She had to see him once again tounderstand why he affected her so.

She tried the shop door, but it was locked, though she knew hehad to be there. She almost felt his presence within the shop. Johanaput her hands to the glass and pressed her face to the window. But allshe could see through the window was the craftsman’s body lying onthe floor. In his lifeless hand was a newly repaired, gold watch whoseminute hand ticked to twelve…of the noon hour.