The earth laughs in flowers.Milton cupped his cigar as he wafted it under his nose. His field glasses lay on a shelf. From his perch on the Glenn Block watch tower Milton could see bits of ember rising from chimneys across the city. Ascending claps of leather on wood rose from below. A gaunt woman in a cloth coat climbed up to the capsule. “Betty, you’re late,” he stated. “What’s it to you? You were going somewhere?” Betty replied. “Get over here,” he responded. As they embraced, Milton saw flame had replaced ember on a building about a ten blocks distant. Abruptly, he pushed Betty away and grabbed a mallet and rang a cast iron bell four times. A minute later, he rang it another four times.
Off in the direction of the fire, a station house stirred to action. “Just look Betty,” Milton said, “those bucket monkeys at the Marions will not find that fire.” Milton aimed his cigar toward a crate wagon emerging from the station house trundled with hose reels, ladders and leather buckets. As he spoke, a team of horses drew a fire engine out of the station. Milton swung his cigar toward a second station house. “I bet the Invincibles get first water,” He said. Betty’s shoulders sank. “I’m not here for the view or your wager,” she replied. Betty tightened as Milton repeated his shop worn tale, “Betty, the volunteers first to the water cistern take the fire and the prize offered by the insurance men. Either company better hope that fire is near water or it is not going out.” “Milton,” said Betty, “I’m headed out. I need to get back.” Milton was lost in seeing what he had set in motion. He paid no attention to the descending patter of Betty’s boots as she left the watch tower. Milton reached in his pocket for his tin match safe to ignite his cigar.
Alone on the tower, Milton looked across a horizon of pitfalls. The smoke darkened night cast lasting shadows on the street. He strained to hear the cries of alarm and distress of city folk escaping the burning structure. He was too far away. His post kept him safely away from mayhem. That distance left him spotty with the volunteers so he was careful not to brag near them about his role in these rescues. These volunteers risked their lives in perils brought on during ordinary moments of city life. Milton knew a family that lived right there. He did not commiserate with the trouble those folks always got themselves into. It was not that he disliked them or their lot in life. He just lived in a city that seemed to have so many wrongs. Solving one mess seemed to create more. He sure did not like this fate for them.
City hall was just two floors below him in the Glenn Block building. Milton was there when the city fathers celebrated placement of the one hundredth cistern. They received hearty praise for their far sighted planning in storing water for fires at tactical locations. He thought all that back slapping had an odd lack of concern about times effects on brick arches. Wedge-shaped bricks held each other brick firmly in place. Unless the bricks stayed in place, especially the keystone, those cisterns would collapse. Masonry crumbles. He felt the city would be better off using those bricks for buildings instead of letting more wood structures be built. No one would hear him out though.
At the end of his shift, Milton returned home to his wife, Louise. Hsun Tzu was cooking ham and bean soup and cornbread in the hearth. He had migrated here after working on the transcontinental railroad. Louise and Milton provided Hsun Tzu with a room. In return, he cooked, cleaned and laundered. “Louise,” said Milton “the Landers were routed by that fire tonight. They are headed back to Martinsville.” Hsun Tzu was in the room, so Louise kept to her cross stitch sampler. It read: “The earth laughs in flowers. - Ralph Waldo Emerson.” It kept her fury in check. She had heard the four clangs on the bell and had gone to the Glenn Block building. She saw that woman creep away from the watch tower. Met with silence, Milton took up discourse with Hsun Tzu. He began to recount the night hoping it might kindle talk from Louise.
At length, Hsun Tzu broke him off. “No man can bear to see the suffering of others.” Hsun Tzu said, “We have four beginnings. Develop these beginnings or destroy yourself. Give them in the fullest and you will be like fire beginning to burn or a spring beginning to shoot forth. When in full, they protect all people within the four seas. When empty, even your parents are not served.”
Milton was silent. Coals faded in the hearth. Louise stopped working with her hands and lifted her head. “Hsun Tzu,” she said “what are these beginnings?” He replied,”The feeling of commiseration is the beginning of humanity. The feeling of shame is the beginning of righteousness. The feeling of deference is the beginning of propriety. And the feeling of right or wrong is the beginning of wisdom.”
Milton blankly looked at Hsun Tzu. Louise gently folded up the proportions of her sampler and retired to her bedroom.
