Expanding the Household (1)
"I said I wasn't interested," Patrick grumbled, his feelings hurt.
"The color is a bit unusual. What did you put inside?"
"Can you figure it out?"
Yet the teacher who craved attention melted instantly at his student's curious questions. Abandoning the laundry, Patrick picked up the soap Ben had pointed to and held it up.
"This isn't for laundry—it's for washing your face."
"For washing your face? What's inside?"
"Of course! This one has honey and coffee grounds, and that one has dried and ground herbs mixed with lemon peel. Want to take a sniff?"
Ben leaned in eagerly, sniffing away.
"Oh!"
"Nice, right? If I'd had some herb oil, I could've made the scent stronger, but I didn't have time."
"But do you really need to go this far for soap?"
"Of course! Skin is precious."
"Is it worth using up good honey? If you've got honey, why not make us more snacks instead?"
"Hey, kid. You start taking care of yourself while you're still young. Look at my skin. When I first got here, it was spotless, but now it's all dull and rough. What a mess."
"Well, you do work in the fields."
"That doesn't mean I should give up. At least do the bare minimum."
The extra batch he'd made was facial soap. While making laundry soap, the thought of rubbing something that smelled only of used cooking oil on his face had felt too unpleasant, so he'd quickly thrown together what ingredients he had on hand.
'Pretty good for something whipped up in a hurry.'
If he let it harden for a few more days before using it, his skin would feel smoother. 'The ingredients are basically what I saw on those pack wrappers, so it should work, right?'
He didn't know much about cosmetics, but having watched his mother and her daughter constantly stocking the fridge with packs had at least taught him which ingredients were good for skin.
"But will it really improve your skin? If you use this?"
"Think about it. What happens when you wash clothes with soap?"
"The dirt comes out and they get clean?"
"Exactly."
"······Ah?"
"And I added honey and herbs, didn't I? That's nutrition for your skin."
"······Skin doesn't eat food. What are you talking about?"
"Hey, have you been living under a rock? Never heard that saying?"
"What saying?"
"Don't eat it—give it to your skin."
"······?"
It was a hard concept to grasp. What did it even mean to "give it to your skin"?
'Mom would love it if I brought some home.'
Still, Ben found the teacher's nonsense oddly appealing. But he couldn't bring himself to ask outright.
'It has precious honey, coffee, and even medicinal herbs in it.'
Even regular soap was something his mother hid in the wardrobe and only used on special occasions. If this version was made with the teacher's own know-how and loaded with expensive ingredients, it had to be pricey.
'He probably won't give it to me.'
Just as he was about to give up, Patrick spoke.
"Want one?"
"Huh?"
"Wait here."
The teacher disappeared inside and returned with two sheets of paper. He wrapped one bar in each and handed them over.
"Take them to your mom."
"I don't have any money, though."
"Kid, why are you talking about money? When an adult gives you something, you just say 'Thank you' and take it."
Thump! Patrick gave him a light flick on the forehead.
"Thank you."
"There, now go. I'm tired."
"I'll come by tomorrow!"
"Do what you want."
Patrick hadn't given the soap away for any grand reason. First, the boy had seemed to want it. Second, he figured it was impossible to make a fortune selling soap anyway, so he might as well share what he'd made.
'Whatever. Money, my foot. I made it so I could actually do laundry properly in the first place.'
Comforting himself that his original goal had been achieved, Patrick drifted off to sleep.
"Sis, have you had some good news lately?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
A few days later, while tending the vineyard as usual, Ben's mother widened her eyes at her neighbors' words.
"Your face is practically glowing! What's going on? Have you been sneaking something good without telling us?"
"You noticed too? I was going to ask because I thought Ben's mom was looking unusually radiant!"
"There is something! Come on, don't keep it to yourself—share with us!"
Ben's mother fought to keep the corners of her mouth from curling upward.
'See? Everyone can tell. Hohoho!'
Even her usually dense husband had commented that morning.
— You look a bit younger today.
······Had he not sobered up yet? She'd smacked him on the back for saying something unnecessary, but still.
"Actually······"
The reason her skin looked better was obvious. It was the soap the teacher had given her as a gift!
"It wasn't just the color and scent that were nice—it actually seems to have some effect."
"An effect? Really?"
"After washing with it, all the roughness disappears and my skin feels so moisturized. Like I've just stepped out of a hot bath!"
"Oh my!"
"My son says the teacher made a ton of soap. Why don't you ask him about it?"
"······But even regular soap is expensive. If this one has special effects, it'll cost even more, won't it?"
The women quickly deflated. Even if they wanted the soap that made skin beautiful, they weren't wealthy enough to spend that kind of money on something that wasn't a necessity. That was the nature of luxury goods—nice to have, but not a real hardship if you didn't.
The wealthy nobles might open their wallets without a second thought if the quality was good, but for the residents of Dunbrook Island, that was unthinkable.
This was exactly why Ben had looked indifferent when he first saw the soap Patrick made.
"Oh, come on. Our teacher isn't the type to care about money."
"R-really?"
But the women's ears perked up at that. To Ben's mother, Patrick was exactly that kind of person. He'd taught her son reading, writing, and numbers, helped him become a Spiritist, and now he was even teaching history and law—without ever once asking for payment!
'Our teacher is a true scholar and gentleman, that's for sure!'
With quiet confidence that he wouldn't disappoint his neighbors over a few coins, she spoke up.
"Of course! Still, making something like this must've been a real strain on his finances. We can't show up empty-handed, right?"
"Right, sis! Does the teacher have any favorite foods or things he needs?"
"Hmm······ He's a hard man to read, honestly."
"What would he like······"
If it were just a few coins, they would've happily accepted them and focused on customer service. But his overly good image had steered things in an unexpected direction.
"W-what is all this?"
The early morning visitor was Maksim. Staring at the contents of the cart he'd brought, Patrick froze in horror.
'Just because I couldn't help with the potato field, does he have to torment his benefactor like this?'
He'd even given advice about lemon candy when Maksim's pregnant wife was suffering from morning sickness, and shared some dried medicinal herbs!
'Though it wasn't exactly free······'
Getting some meat or cheese in return had still been a fair price, hadn't it?
Whirrrrr—!
The endless buzzing from the container was what made Patrick reflect on his past actions.
"I wanted to give this to you as a gift, sir!"
"G-give what?"
"A beehive."
"I refuse······"
"It might look small, but it produces quite a bit of honey. Flowers bloom nonstop around here from spring to fall."
At Maksim's explanation, Patrick's mouth, which had been about to refuse, snapped shut.
'Honey?'
It wasn't as if he'd never tasted sweetness before. The village chief and other residents had shared sugar and honey with him, so he'd been able to make sweet tea or snacks occasionally.
'But there was never quite enough.'
Gifts born of the villagers' goodwill always made him happy. Still, not being able to get as much as he wanted whenever he wanted was undeniably stressful.
'There were plenty of times I had to resist cravings after checking how much was left. After all, there was no guarantee anyone would give me more once it was gone.'
Just a few days ago, he'd had to give up on eating ginger preserved in honey when his throat hurt because the jar was empty.
Gulp—
Patrick's resolve was wavering. Noticing this, Maksim pressed on in a gentler tone.
"I'll teach you how to manage the hive. It's not difficult. One hive won't take up much of your time. Here, I brought a hat and gloves for when you work with the bees."
"······Is it dangerous?"
"Honeybees aren't that dangerous. Look at me, sir. I've got over ten hives and not a single sting mark."
"Hmm—"
He wanted to ask Maksim to take off his shirt so he could check, but Patrick couldn't bring himself to say it. He was an educated man with some social awareness, after all.
"But why are you giving this to me all of a sudden?"
"Ah, well······"
Patrick still hadn't completely dropped his suspicious gaze. Giving away an entire hive—not just a jar of honey—meant there had to be something he wanted.
"What is it? Do we really need to beat around the bush between us?"
"Actually, Mary heard something strange somewhere······ You know, about soap that makes your face glow when you wash with it······"
"Soap? Ah! Facial soap! Oh, of course I'll give you some! It's nothing special."
Patrick thought the request was far too modest for the trouble Maksim had gone through.
'He's giving me a whole beehive for that? Or does he want several bars?'
Heading to the backyard to fetch the soap, he wondered if two bars would be too few and grabbed some laundry soap as well.
'Four should be enough? Hmm—'
Still feeling it wasn't quite enough, he added some medicinal herbs good for pregnant women, a jar of chamomile tea that improved sleep quality, and tucked everything into a bundle.
'Should I add some lemon preserves too? Yeah! Better to be generous than stingy. We see each other all the time.'
Still not satisfied, Patrick scooped out some lemon preserves he'd set in sugar and added them as well. In no time, the bundle was full.
"Sir! All this······!"
"These herbs are good for pregnant women to drink. Boil them and have them. For the chamomile, brew no more than three cups a day. It's normal to have trouble sleeping early in pregnancy, so this should help. The lemon preserves are for when morning sickness comes back—have a cup each time. You know that much by now, right? Ah, I put in the soap we talked about too. This side is for laundry, and this side is for washing your face."
Maksim's face turned bright red as he looked at the bundle Patrick had prepared.
'To think I was reluctant to part with even one beehive for such an honorable man!'
In truth, when his wife had asked him to trade the beehive for soap, he'd been incredibly reluctant. Even after carefully selecting the smallest hive he had, he'd still felt a pang of regret.
— If my pregnant wife hadn't wanted it, I never would've traded it for a few bars of soap!
He'd grumbled to himself the whole way, pulling the cart to the teacher's house. But not only had the teacher generously given him plenty of that precious soap, he'd also provided herbs and tea as if he'd seen right through his pregnant wife's needs.
'Teacher······!'
Once again, Patrick's reputation among the villagers rose even higher. It was a strangely fortunate turn of events for something that had simply happened because he didn't know the market value of his goods.