The Unready Queen, стр. 6

The boys exchanged glances.

“It’s just,” said Tinn, hesitantly, “not everything is good when it’s canned.”

“Raspberry jam is great,” added Cole, hastily.

“Everybody loves jam.”

“But then there’s the green beans. And the carrots.”

“The carrots were when I knew,” agreed Tinn.

Annie rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with canned vegetables.”

“Yeah, but even you hate mushy carrots,” said Cole.

Annie sighed. “Only because they are the worst food ever created. All right. Yes, we have been running a bit light. But I’ve already begun looking for part-time work. There are always a few odd jobs to be done in town. Just let me worry about that. We’ll be fine.”

“I thought you already had a job,” said Tinn, “making pies for Mr. Barmbrack.”

Annie nodded. “It turns out, a bit of baking twice a week does not make enough to keep up with two hungry young men.”

“And the thing with the chairs?” asked Cole.

“Caning chairs helped us make it through last winter, but there are only so many seats in Endsborough. I’m just going to have to try to find something that’s a bit more regular.”

Tinn winced involuntarily at the word. If there was anything his family was not good at, it was regular.

They came up to the broad building in the center of town that was Endsborough’s schoolhouse, church, and grange hall, as occasion demanded. A handful of children were milling about near the entrance. Cole waved to Hana and Oscar. Their mothers had not walked them all the way to school.

Off to the left of the front doors was a weathered public message board. Annie stepped up to it and regarded the postings. “Let’s see. Farmhand. Cattle driver. Goodness, not for me, I think. Oh, here’s one. Mr. Zervos has a listing for a clerk at the general store. I could be the sort of person who works in a shop, don’t you think?”

Cole had stopped paying attention. His scanning eyes had landed on a faded ad for positions with the Echo Point Mining Company. His father had worked in the mines—right up until the day he disappeared. Cole and Tinn had only been babies, but people still talked about it from time to time, mostly when they thought the twins could not hear them. The story was that Joseph Burton clocked out at Echo Point, picked up his lunch box, and never arrived home. Cole bristled. Their mother would not be stretching herself thin for every opportunity to mend busted chairs or sell baked beans if her husband had not abandoned her.

“Pardon me, ladies and gentlemen, pardon me.”

Cole pulled his attention away from the flyer as a middle-aged man in a tweed suit and a straw boater strode up to the message board with a sheet of paper in his hands.

“There’s a good lad. Thank you, son, just squeezing in. Won’t be a moment.” The man patted Cole on the shoulder genially as the boys stepped out of the way. “Couple of strapping young men you’ve got with you today, ma’am,” he called over his shoulder to Annie.

“Thank you, sir. They’re good boys. Sometimes.”

The man chuckled and went to work banging a tack into each corner of the paper. His flyer was crisp and brighter than the other postings, printed on smooth paper in three different fancy styles of lettering. “That should do it.” The man took a step back and gave his work a satisfied nod.

Cole and Tinn peered around his elbows on either side to read what the flyer said. It was for a job at a construction project out past the old mill.

“What’s a pump jack?” said Tinn.

“What’s a pump jack?” echoed the man. “Why, my boy, it’s the future of your sleepy town! It is technological progress in a bold new age.”

“It’s a great big machine for drawing oil,” Annie clarified.

“Right you are, ma’am! Spot on!” The man gave Annie a broad smile. “Black gold, we call it. We’re building a machine to pull profits right out of the dirt. Good as a golden goose. Hold on, now. Where are my manners? I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Annie Burton,” said Annie Burton. “And I take it you’re Mr. Hill?” She nodded to the flyer, which had JACOB HILL written in bold block letters across the top.

“Right again, my dear. Most astute.” Mr. Hill held out a hand and Annie shook it politely. “Looking for some after-school work, boys?” Hill asked, turning to the twins.

Cole was ready to answer when Annie replied for both of them. “I think they’re a bit young to be working with heavy machinery.”

“We’re not too young,” Cole grumbled. “I would look out for Tinn and Tinn would look out for me.”

“Mother knows best, boys,” Hill said with a shrug. “Never too early to pick up a trade, though. At their age I was already working for my uncle. You lads ever heard of Dr. Emerson’s Enervating Elixirs?”

The twins shook their heads.

“Might be for the best.” Hill leaned in conspiratorially. “Just between you and me, his treatments smelled like feet and tasted like garlic and peaches.” He chuckled. “But I learned more on the road selling stinky tonics than ever I did in a classroom.”

“Mm. Worldly advice, thank you,” said Annie.

“Well, if you change your mind, I’m operating out of the town inn for the time being,” said Hill. “Always room for a few steady hands. You boys mind your mother, now. Pleasure meeting you all.” He gave them a nod and turned to go.

“Hi, Mr. Hill,” called a girl’s voice coming from the other direction.

Tinn stiffened. Evie Warner and her father were making their way toward the schoolhouse. His mouth went dry. Tinn’s words always got tangled up when he tried to talk to Evie Warner. She never seemed to mind, which only made it worse, somehow. He felt suddenly that he should be doing something with his hands, but could not for the life of him think what.

“Good morning, young lady,” Hill answered,