With Ears That Sweep Away the Morning Dew

The dining-room was pitch black and as silent as a grave. What set it apart was the openness of it. What a funny feeling it is to know that somewhere in a room there are other walls and a ceiling, but not being able to know they're there. The stillness of the room only made the atmosphere worse, as if something was waiting just out of reach, able to see , but not be seen.

Natan opened the large entrance doors, pulling his cart along. The rolling wheels echoed off the walls, and almost seemed to be eaten by the stillness. But to try to fill it up would be terrifying and hopelessly artificial. Nonetheless, this was the best time to clean the place, else it would be bustling, with people coming in and out to ruin the work.

Not wanting to be wasteful, Natan disregarded the large chandelier he knew to be there. Instead, he positioned the cart to the side of the door and lit a candle on it, serving both the purpose as a timekeeper and a beacon. Clipping a smaller (electrical) light onto the outside of his breast pocket to actually see what he was doing, he grabbed a curious combination of stick and towel, with one end of the stick pointing out. He dunked it into a bucket of water. He started at one end of the 'U' that the tables were set up in and started dusting off the tops. More sanitary than using a broom, and faster than a rag and sponge.

As he walked slowly, he became uncomfortably self-aware of every noise he was making. It was unnerving, but cleaning the whole place shouldn't take more than half an hour.

Beside the door, the candle flickered.

The Castle was enormous, and the best way to realize that was to try and locate somebody in it. Thankfully, Richard didn't have to walk around blindly, hoping he would stumble into him by chance or even leave a note saying to meet him. Having checked the number of the room the janitor lived in, he lounged around the door until he was sure he got a good whiff of the man's scent, then went back down the stairs trying to catch a fresher track of it. He caught all too many -- it seemed the janitor was dutiful in making his rounds around the castle, for which Richard was grateful in general... just not right now. Before he reached the part of the trail strong enough for him to be certain he was close, he had to double back enough times to be annoyed. More than he was before, anyway.

He stalked through the dark corridors like he was one with the shadow, rubber soles of his desert boots making no noise against the carpeting.

The tiny light flickering by the dining room told him that the walking was over. With a silent sigh, he stopped on the door's threshold, leaned against the frame and watched the man working in the dark for a moment. He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to talk to anybody, but he supposed meeting a new person on professional grounds was better than talking to somebody he used to know on a more 'friendly' basis before.

Richard cleared his throat, then spoke in a loud, but calm voice. "Mr. Isaac?"

"Sa se m'!" Natan said, out of surprise reverting to his creole. There hadn't been any sound previous to the ad-dressing. He straightened from halfway cleaning the third table on the right. In spite of the candle, the lack of light didn't reveal much more than general shape, which he didn't recognize.

"Ah'm sorry, but who is dea?" he asked, leaning this way and that, hoping to catch a better angle to see him.

Richard raised his eyebrows at the foreign language, more surprised with the fact that he did not recognize it than with the fact it was used at all. Hm. Either way, it was not hard to puzzle out what he'd said was some way of confirming his identity. As the man stood up straight, Richard gave a little wave.

"Richard Wallace," he said, "Castle Steward." It still felt weird, coming out of his mouth. He pushed himself upright from the door frame and started strolling in the man's direction, folding his hands behind his back. "Seeing as we're coworkers now, I thought it would be prudent to get to know each other." He put some smile into his voice, but the effort to bring it to his face was postponed to the moment it would be actually seen. "How do you do?"

Natan dropped the cleaning tool on the table and put his hands on his lower back before doing a little stretch back and giving a small grunt. He rolled his shoulders a bit before responding.
"Oh, A'm pretty good, jus a bid tired. An' ma names Natan Isaac, assi seems chew kno already. Good to mee chew. "
He walked forwards towards the figure with long strides, holding out his hand and stopping once he was close enough. The smile was not returned, though from tiredness and not malice
"And 'ow are chew?"

Natan half thought about excusing himself, being diurnal. This was generally his last chore before heading off to sleep. But the castle stewart-! Though Natan was not completely sure what 'stewart' meant beyond a first name, it certainly sounded like Richard Wallace was his superior.

Richard watched the man's little ritual, letting out a non-committal hum. Middle-aged, energetic, well-disposed. Strong accent, brown skin, middling height. "Likewise. You are working late," he noted casually as he gave him a firm handshake. "It is a big castle for one man to clean."

It was one of the bigger changes that occurred while Richard was gone, he realized - the castle becoming much cleaner. It had never been bad enough as to make him notice any filth, but in comparison, it had certainly improved. And unlike back then, now it was actually Richard's business to make sure it improved further.

"I'm well, thank you," he said. He swept a hand across the nearest table top to inspect it, smiled, and leaned against it. "Would you spare me a few moments? I'd like to hear how do you find your stay and your work at the Castle."

Good, a firm handshake! An important man should know how to do that, in Natan's opinion at least. He released his hand after returning it, and planted both of them on his hips. He adjusted himself to remain across from Mr. Wallace as the latter leaned on the table.
"Aw no, jus de easies' time to clean it, wid no one aroun'. An' de castle's not too big, jus' godda keep moving abou' it." He gave a look around the large room, thinking a bit before giving his review.

"Chew folks certainly are nice to give me a job, not too much heavy lifting or hard work. Good room, friendly folks an' everyting. Only ting Ah don' like so much is de cold, but Ah'll get a jacket or someting." He nodded soundly at what he said. It was a nice place. Relaxing, if one wanted it to be. Could serve as a distraction, if one wanted it to be.

Richard hummed thoughtfully, looking the man over, as if idly sizing him up while he spoke. When Natan was done, he gave a nod. "Good. I'm pleased to hear you're satisfied." He combed his fingers through his hair. "I'm afraid the cold is only going to get worse. Scotland is not known for harsh winters, but on the island we get all sorts of peculiar weather... and the castle is too big to be properly heated and can be quite drafty." The drafts at least were something that could be dealt with, surely. Maybe he'd get Rendaz on the case. Richard cocked his head slightly and studied the man for a moment.

"I hope you're not of any particular disposition that could make you susceptible to low temperatures...?" So far, he was fairly certain Natan was a human, but it was never wrong to try and make sure of it. He waved a hand lazily. "If so, some special arrangements could be made. We do go out of our way to make our residents' stay comfortable, no matter their... special needs."

He stared at Natan inquiringly, hoping that the implication he wasn't talking of just a possible second blanket would be clear.

"Hoo boy, ledme tell chew!" Natan exclaimed loudly, previous thoughts forgotten. "When chew raised on an island in de Carribean, chew hate de cold! I should go to de town soon, buy coats an' scarves. Tere ain't noting worse dan havin' to leave de bed on a cold, cold morning! Meybe a space heata or someting, yea? Do we have one of dos round hea?" He asked, completely oblivious to Mr. Wallace's real question. In his defense though, he really did not like the cold.

At first, Richard was a bit taken aback by the outburst, but then he couldn't help but smile. What an amusing man. Well, that was both the dislike of the cold and the mysterious accent explained.

"That might be best. There is a clothes' shop in the Cove, if I recall properly." He rubbed his chin in thought. "A space heater could be organized, but I don't know if your room has the electricity to supply it. But a lovely, old-timey bed warmer is certainly not out of the question." There were some in one of the storage rooms, he knew. He would make sure to make them available later.

He shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Now, this is just my personal curiosity, so don't feel obliged to answer... but why did you choose to live here?"

Well, a bed warmer would be better than nothing. And if he was in town, he could get a quilt or something along those lines. Natan nodded at the offer. "Well, dat's very good ofchew."

He folded his arms and thought about Richards question, debating answering it or not. He bounced his head left and right a bit, considering his options. Might as well be as honest as he could.
"Oh, Ah'm getting olda, an' dis didn' seem too bad. See new places, meet diff'ren people, an... well, chew know, de hoodoo an such made me a good fit."

Richard waited, watching the man's fairly clear hesitation. For all of his extraversion, it seemed Natan was not without a dose of wariness. Good for him. Or perhaps he just didn't know how to answer.

"Hoodoo," Richard echoed, when the answer finally was given. After a moment of pause, he smiled wryly. "So that's real. You know, the longer I stay here, the more I'm convinced fiction doesn't exist... all myths and legends seem to have a basis in reality. It's a little sad." He shook his head, as if to clear his head of the thought, then spoke again quickly enough not to give the janitor a chance to respond. "So, how do you do it, if you don't mind me asking?" His gaze flickered up and down over the man and he waved a hand in a vague gesture. "Does it come naturally to... whatever species you may be?"

The talk about fiction and reality went a bit over Natan's head. Not to say that he didn't understand it, but he didn't see the point of it. What was, was and what wasn't, wasn't. Anything beyond day to day living didn't hold his interest for long.

What.... species? Species? Natan's eyes grew wide with humor, eyebrows went up and his mouth spread wide. "Ma species! Wooo-eeee" He laughed, and shook his head. "Now dat's a good one! No, no, Ah don't tink so, not many humans do what Ah do!" Natan chuckled a bit more before continuing. "Ah'm human, jus like chew. Hoodoo is... hoodoo is like medicine, or cookin'. Chew have to learn how to do it, an' de practice is hard. Lot of stuff, very percise, lots of learnin' to do"

At the laughter, Richard blinked in mild surprise, then stared at Natan with polite interest. He did not find it so amusing, though he supposed for Natan the idea he could be anything but human could be funny...

'Just like you'. At that, his lips did quirk in a sardonic smile. The janitor assumed too much, it seemed. But then... Richard was somewhat of a human, especially compared to some other inhabitants of the Island. It wasn't that far off.

After a second of hesitation, he reached for the closest chair and moved it away from the table to sit down. The pain in his hip that flared up whenever he stood for too long was too big of a price to pay for whatever appearances may have been maintained by continuing the conversation standing. He raised an eyebrow at Natan slightly. "Would you not call it magic, then? From what I know, most of the folks here have abilities that come from some innate power of theirs, rather than learning."

Natan chose not to sit, but just shift his weight to a leg. Superiors got to sit, everyone else stood (and sitting would just make getting up to work harder). Richard's smile was a good sign though. He was humored by Natan's repsonse (or so he thought). Natan smiled as he gave his response.
"Sure is magic, but jus' bout anybody can learn, if dey've got de patience and de talent. But good luck finding someone to teach chew! Nobody's going to teach a foreigner de art!" he chuckled at his own wit. "But it's normally taught trou de family, instead of a school or books. Oh sure" Natan waved his hand lazily "you could find someone selling 'Hoodoo cures' an' what-not, but nine times out of ten, it's fish oil an' weeds. No, real Hoodoo ain't dat common"

Richard hummed thoughtfully. "I'll keep that in mind." Not that he would have any use for whatever those fake Hoodoo items offered, but... Anyway. Natan's pride of his craft was slightly amusing, but it seemed justified. Industrious, hard-working, traditional human magic. Richard liked the idea. It was much better than the innate abilities of supernatural beings -- and the unearned sense of superiority they seemed to instill in people. Really, the longer he stayed on the Island, the more he appreciated humanity...

"It seems like you're a rare resource," he said jokingly, leaning an elbow against the table. "Have you found a student to pass your art on to, then?"

"Chew darn right Ah am" Natan nodded. He didn't understand that Richard was joking thinking that it was a compliment. There was a brief moment of concern that he had addressed a superior too familiarly, but waved it off. 47 and a janitor, his career wasn't going anywhere in a great hurry. What could they do, fire him?

Concern appeared on Natan's face. "Mesye Wallace" he said "Ah tink chew've forgotten dat Ah'm a janitor, not a teacher. Ah didn't plan to instruct anybody in de art" Not only was he unprepared to teach, but also not sure if he could.

The sudden change in expression on Natan's face made Richard's eyebrows raise. When he explained the cause, though, the vampire rolled his eyes good-naturedly and waved a hand. "Nobody is a teacher here anymore," he said with a half-smile. "I meant a student of your own choice, from your family or otherwise... It would be a shame if the craft went extinct."

Natan gave a sideways glance at the wall at the word family, no more than an instant before back to Richard... family...No, that wouldn't do at all..

He gave a shrug, waving off the suggestion with his hand. "Non Mesye, it will not die out. Dere are enough odders back whe Ah am from. Ah've cousins, aunties, uncles, siblings, de nieces and nephews. Some of dem know it betta dan even Ah do! Non Mesye, pa enkyete, it will be fine"

He nodded slowly. So, Natan had a huge family... and left them all on another continent. It struck Richard as somewhat peculiar, but he supposed the janitor didn't intend to stay in the Castle forever. Or maybe he just didn't get along with them that well.

Richard was given pause by the strange words, and when he failed to untangle them from an accent and was forced to assume they were another language, he frowned slightly. It was possibly just a blunder, but inserting words of a language the other didn't know was poor manners either way.

"Fair enough," he said, in a considerably colder tone. He paused a second, looked around, then back to the janitor. "Anyway, I have some news to tell you. You have been doing your job most excellently, and in acknowledgment of that, you are to receive a promotion." He watched Natan's reaction carefully. "This means your job will be both easier and harder, as you will have subordinates for whom you will be responsible."

That was one way to put it, he supposed.

Promoted! Natan's eyes just about bulged out of his head. A promotion was rare enough (at least where he had worked before. Normally they kept you in a position until you were physically unable to perform it anymore.

"A promotion? But Ah haven't been hea foa half a yea yet!" exclaimed the conjure man, not even mentioning his lack of management. The closest he had been to a boss was telling the younger recruits how not to mess up their first day.

In the back of his head (among a few thousand other thoughts) Natan wondered where these new hands would be coming fro- no... not the students... really?

Folding his hands in his lap, Richard gave an obliging smile. "That is true, but the fact that you've shown yourself to be a valuable asset in a short period of time proves you all the more worthy of a promotion." Not that there was much competition for the position of head janitor... and they needed one. "You know the castle, you know how to clean it. We will be counting on you to relegate duties and tasks and see to them being completed impeccably." He paused, cocking his head slightly. "You have questions, no doubt. Ask them."

Wariness appeared on Natan's face. Something wasn't quite right here, but... something about horses and gifts.

"Well... alright den. First tings first, Ah guess. One. Are moa people coming hea, or who's workin for me now? Two. If Ah can clean now, why do we need moa people to do it?"

It still was an odd situation for Natan. If he didn't clean, was he still a janitor? What did it really mean to clean? Was it causing something to become less dirty, or actually cleaning it yourself?
Philosopher of unskilled labour tasks. Natan missed his true calling.

Richard remained silent for a moment, regarding the man as he thought of how best to put it.

"Well," he finally began, then cleared his throat. "The administration has decided to transform this institution from a school slash refuge to full-on refuge. The students will be students no longer, instead becoming residents who have to earn their stay, with cleaning becoming one of the possible ways to do it." He shrugged. "I hope that answered your second question as well. But, they are largely clueless and a... strange lot, which means we still need you to oversee the cleanliness of the place." He put emphasis on the last sentence, hoping Mr. Isaac wouldn't be made to feel redundant. Just the fact he was not fired should do the trick, but one never knew.

Natan groaned inwardly, and tried not to show it. Children! The same children who left jam all over the table, messes in the bathrooms, and caused half his problems as a janitor!

"Dere's no doubt about dat" Natan agreed offhandedly. In his head, he was making a list of cleaning materials he would have to hide, and other... things in the janitors area that would be moved to his room. Unknown Hoodoo potions in the hands of mischievous youngsters could prove disastrous.

"Now, children are not known for being obedient. What is to keep dem from just running off, not working?" Natan asked.