Published: July 26, 2025
As I lay in bed, just as Lutz predicted, my fever began to rise. It was a mild fever from fatigue, only a slight temperature, making my whole body feel sluggish. It wasn’t the devouring fever that threatened to consume me, so if I stayed quiet and rested, it should pass eventually.
Three days went by with that thought in mind.
The persistent fever was frustrating, but since I’d be scolded for leaving the bed on my own, I had no choice but to stay put, even if lying down for so long made me feel even more sluggish.
… Ughhh, so boring.
Today was the day for butchering the pig. Unlike last year, it seemed I had gained enough trust to be left alone, so my family had left early in the morning.
They had prepared sandwiches for lunch and filled cups of water for everyone, leaving them in the bedroom. So it seemed like I wouldn’t be starving or parched anytime soon.
The room was silent. I could move if I wanted to, but knowing it would only prolong the fever, I had no choice but to stay obediently in bed. But with no one to talk to, the boredom was unbearable.
If only I had a book…
I had brought home a large amount of failed paper samples, but they were untouched, neatly stacked at the bottom of the wooden box containing my clothes. After finishing the prototype, I was busy, and besides, I wanted to put my full effort into making the first actual book.
Most importantly, the failed papers were uneven in quality and size. Some were nearly successful, while others were complete failures, torn into scraps. Some were so thin they were almost transparent and fragile to the touch; others were so stiff they seemed ready to crack if pressed too hard.
The nearly successful papers that just wrinkled a bit when glued were still manageable, but those with large holes caused by failed peeling after drying were surprisingly difficult to cut into usable pieces unless I improved my knife skills. I wanted a tool with a thin, small blade like a cutter—easy to handle with a sharp edge.
To make a book from such paper, I needed time to focus patiently. This winter promised to be a fulfilling time.
… Oh! Speaking of books, I remembered Benno’s wooden board I didn’t have yet.
Before getting sick, Benno told me, "Read this when you get back." Since I was just lying in bed, reading this would be fine.
I slowly sat up, opened the lid of the wooden box with my clothes, and took out a relatively large A4-sized board from my tote bag.
Still lying on the bed, I began reading.
“...This is a course outline for training new apprentices.”
It contained the minimum content decided to be taught to new apprentices. Roughly, it divided into these points:
- Keep a neat appearance and be able to greet properly.
- Be able to write all basic letters and numbers.
- Know how to use a calculator.
- Be able to handle some money calculations.
- Memorize the products handled.
- Memorize the names of the vendors who come and go.
“Hmmm, during winter, the two of us can study letters, numbers, and money calculations. The lower points are things everyone picks up during apprenticeship, so we can put them off for now…”
Muttering to myself, I began planning our winter study schedule.
Now, how much did Lutz remember about letters and numbers? Even if taught, things are forgotten if not used. I needed to check and reteach what was forgotten.
How about teaching how to write order forms and appointment slips as example sentences? They’re words used frequently in work, so knowing them would be useful.
Honestly, I only really know work-related terms, too. There’s no dictionary here, and the only people who taught me letters were Otto, who wanted to train me for budgeting, and merchants Benno and Mark. So, I think I’ve learned many work-related words. But I don’t know many general nouns or verbs.
“I know how to use a calculator for addition and subtraction, but for multiplication and division, I’d need to ask Mark.”
I could calculate by doing pen-and-paper on a stone tablet, but I also had to learn to use a calculator. To avoid standing out badly among apprentices, it’s better to do things like everyone else.