Just a minute. The whole workshop joined in.
Mabel wrote “quick polish” in the job book and left room for Mr. Bell’s name.
By the time she looked up, the tool tray was already on its way. Someone had turned the lamp toward the great gold watch, and Elsie was unfolding a clean cloth beside its removed glass.
“Just a minute,” Mr. Bell said.
Mabel kept her pencil ready.
One Small Mark
The watch rested in a deep green cradle, its open lid shining above the workbench. A gold chain lay in loops along the table. Within the cream ring of Roman numerals, fine wheels and jewel-colored points caught the light.
Mr. Bell stood on the inspection platform with a loupe at his eye. Beside him, the younger watchmaker finished checking the hands, then laid his tweezers in the tray.
The mechanism was stopped. Only the workshop clock was ticking.
At the lower stand, Elsie drew her cloth across the curved glass. A pale streak remained near its edge.
She wiped again, turned the cloth, and stopped.
“Come and look at this.”
Mr. Bell set down his screwdriver before stepping off the platform. Behind him, the tray carrier waited while the younger watchmaker checked that the tools were clear.
Mabel added “glass” beneath “quick polish.”
The Moving Streak
Mr. Bell bent toward the stand. The streak brightened.
“Here?”
Elsie nodded.
He moved his head a little to the left. The line narrowed and slipped toward the gold rim.
Elsie kept her cloth still.
“Do that again.”
He did. This time, she watched the reflected shape of the lamp travel with it.
“The lamp,” she said.
Its operator loosened the little joint and turned the shade. The streak moved away, but so did the light from the watch face.
From the platform, the younger watchmaker raised a hand.
“I’ve lost the tip.”
The lamp returned. So did the streak.
Mabel came around the end of the stand, carrying her open book.
“Is this where you’re looking?”
She held a finger near the edge without touching the glass. Mr. Bell nodded.
Mabel closed the book and raised it between the lamp and that patch.
The white line disappeared.
An Extra Pair
“Keep it there,” Elsie said.
Mabel shifted her feet until she could hold the book comfortably. Its cover cast a small shadow over the glass while the watch face remained lit above it.
“Can you see the hand?” Mr. Bell asked.
“Yes,” came the answer from the platform.
Elsie inspected the clear patch, then moved her cloth around the rim. The lamp operator adjusted the shade a fraction, watching both her hands and the younger man’s raised thumb.
Mr. Bell brought his loupe close.
“Clear.”
The worker polishing the chain looked up from the table.
“Would something lighter help?”
Mabel glanced at the book in her hands.
“Possibly.”
He fetched a plain stiff card from the packing drawer. The tray carrier took the book while Mabel changed her grip. With the card raised, Elsie made the last pass and folded her cloth.
They checked the surface again. It was clean.
Elsie and the tray carrier brought it to the watch. The younger watchmaker guided the far edge while Mr. Bell inspected the seating around the rim.
Below them, the chain was gathered clear of their feet. The lamp stayed where the face could be seen.
The Last Minute
When the glass was secured, everyone put down what they were holding.
Mabel recovered her book. A thumbprint marked its dusty cover.
She brushed it with her sleeve and opened the page.
“Quick polish,” she read.
Elsie glanced at the lamp. The tray carrier smiled.
Mabel wrote Mr. Bell’s name, drew a short line beneath it, and began adding the others.
At the watch, Mr. Bell turned the crown. A soft ticking joined the workshop clock.
“How long did that take?” Mabel asked.
He looked through the clear glass, following the hands.
“Just a minute.”
Her pencil paused.
Mr. Bell settled beside the cradle.
“This one I’d like to watch.”
Mabel set down the pencil and pulled up a chair.
Leave a Reply