Fenella McLeod's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Maisie arrived at dawn, her cheeks pink from the cold walk. Fenella opened the workshop door and gestured her inside. The girl's eyes went wide at the rows of finished candles lining the shelves. Fenella led her to the workbench and pointed at the clay pot with the painted bee. "This is where it starts," she said. "Everything begins with the wax." She lifted the pot and carried it outside. Maisie followed, her breath forming white clouds in the morning air. Fenella walked to the stone barrel near the wall and lifted its wooden lid. Inside sat chunks of rendered animal fat, cool and ready. "Beeswax alone costs too much for everyday candles," Fenella said. "We mix it with tallow to make it last." She scooped out a handful and showed Maisie how the fat felt different from the wax, harder and waxy but without the honey smell. Back inside, Fenella hung an old lantern near the workbench. The metalwork caught the morning light. "When winter comes early, we need this to see our work," she said. Maisie touched the lantern's handle and smiled. Fenella moved to a shelf and pulled down a weathered wooden box she hadn't opened in years. Dust covered the lid. She set it on the bench and opened it carefully. Inside lay yellowed papers covered in her grandmother's handwriting. Recipes for different candles. Notes about which wicks burned longest. A letter addressed to the next chandlemaker in the family. Fenella picked up the letter and handed it to Maisie. "Read this tonight," she said. "Tomorrow we'll try the recipes together." The girl held the paper like it was made of glass. Fenella touched her shoulder and felt the weight of all the grandmothers who had stood in this same spot, teaching the same lessons. The chain held strong.