Eli and the Machine

August 1st, 1776

My name is Eli Parish.

The stress of my work in the city was getting to me recently, taking the form of the most terrible dreams

and sleepless nights, and a fellow I’m closely acquainted with offered me a stay in his rural home for a

while to help calm my nerves. I gladly tuck him on his offer, and made my way out here for some rest.

My friend, who I shall address here as Abram, suggested I try writing about the dreams that plague me,

to see if acknowledging them would solve my plight. I’m not given to flights of fancy like this, but I dare

say i’m at my wits end as to other solutions and I suppose it can’t hurt.

I spied this journal for sale in the town before I left for my coach trip to the cottage, and thought to

document my stay in the countryside. Boarding the coach, I thought to catch up on my rest and tried to

sleep during the trip, but the dream that struck me was much like the ones I had previously been having

the misfortune to enjoy.  I sit here now, still being tossed around by the coach driver as we travel,

ensuring that I document this as I promised myself I would.

I see before me a machine or contraption of some kind. Gears turn, wheels spin, and a crucible burns.

Much in that way of dream logic, I can’t say if the thing is very small and that I’m viewing it from close,

or that it is very large and I am very far away.  What I do know is that in one end flows something like

sand into a spigot, and out of the other comes an awful pink slurry.  As disgusted as I should find this, I

feel only approval, even joy and satisfaction at watching it work.  As soon as I feel this, though, I startle

awake. 

A shame, but part of me feels like perhaps there is opportunity here. I’m not entirely sure what the

machine is meant to accomplish, but could it be some part of my subconscious that is inspiring me?

Who can say, perhaps I shall emerge from this holiday as the next great inventor of the century. As a

child I adored seeing how machinery would work, so I find myself enjoying some amount of thrill at the

idea of building this bizarre dream engine.

I see the cottage grounds approaching, so I shall stop my writing here. I will pick this up again after I

settle in perhaps.

-Eli

August 6th- 2 of Diamonds

Nathanial made true of his word, and when we met the other day in the village for lunch (I have taken

to bringing lunches with me, as the village’s offerings are...less than ideal and I find myself to have

quite the appetite lately) he presented to me an initial sampling of his crafts. Or, rather, AN initial

sampling. One small gear, though beautifully made as it was, does not a working machine make. 

I rather lost my temper then. Days of waiting and this is as far as he had gotten? It caused me to

wonder if this was some form of mockery or sabotage, and I made ready to storm away in anger. 

It was only after Nathanial grabbed me by the shoulders and explained the situation, by way of taking

me to his smithy and showing me the handful of broken rejects he had worked on already that I

realized my mistake.  Unlike his usual craft of horseshoes and buckets, the gears and springs I asked

for were like eggs in comparison to the rocks he normally made, and he was trying his best. This

placated me, but I still left on a sour note.  He mentioned his own workload (“actual work” he called it!)

had increased lately with the needs of the village. “Actual Work”? I am compensating him for his craft

and spending time coming to the village to see him, and my plans are what, a secondary note? 

I said nothing at this, of course, but he has annoyed me. The good people of the village also, have

gotten themselves my ire. How dare they monopolize a man of his talent when I require it more than

they? The thought and feeling that the last week nearly has been a waste angers me, but I shall try to

remain calm. Great works are not finished fast after all, and I still feel like my progress is to be chained

and slowed by the rate of which I can make out parts of the machine in my dreams.

-Eli

August 8th-Seven of Diamonds

The last two days have been a torrent of rain, enough to keep me secluded in my cottage. Thankfully,

the building is dry and retains the heat of the fireplace well, and the time spent inside instead of

traveling to and from the village has given me the opportunity to get my thoughts in order.

Amidst the rain, a young boy arrived carrying a parcel from Nathanial. In the parcel was an array of the

parts I had requested of him, and a note that read simply “As you requested”. I can’t help but feel his

words had a rather curt edge to them, and I am trying not to overthink both his actions and my own

thoughts of why he would not wait and deliver these to me personally when the rain passed, as

opposed to my own relief that they had finally arrived. I wonder if he is still upset at me for my outburst

the other day ?

Still, the number of components grows, and I feel I can almost grasp how they would arrange but that

still eludes me at the same time. I can see the folly of having parts made when I don’t know how they

arrange, but I feel for all the world like the parts are CORRECT but the assembly is like a half

remembered word on the tip of my tongue. 

The young boy who delivered my things concerns me. Not to sound paranoid, but I felt like the nosey

little brat was trying to peek into my rooms and was far too eager to come in out of the rain with an

urgency I could almost believe was born of prying eyes rather than the seeking of warmth.  I sent him

away swiftly upon realizing this, and watched from the window to make sure he had in fact left and was

not loitering around to further pry.

I may have a word with Nathanial about the sort of people he employs for deliveries like this in future… 

-Eli

August 11th- Seven of Spades

The weather finally cleared up, and Nathanial made a second delivery of parts, himself this time. I was

almost unsure whether to let him into the cottage, but when I went to deny him he looked rather

disappointed, and my resolve quickly crumbled. When I showed him to my work space, the excitement

on his face almost matched the excitement in my chest.

I remembered to apologize properly for last week, and the puzzled look on his face resulted in my

finding out that he hadn’t even remembered the altercation, let alone taken offence, which is most

reassuring.  And here I was worrying about nothing!

What was to be a simple delivery turned into him staying most of the day, as we discussed the parts and

poured over my crude sketches, while he worked to redo several of them to make them clearer.  

To think that I was trying to build anything with my previous scribbles now amazes me. The

improvements that Nat adding measurements and scale and notations to my work, combined with a

recent shift in my dreaming,  has made me feel all the more like I may actually accomplish something

with this task.

After his help, we realized how late it was, so in the spirit of friendship I cooked us a meal as we had

entirely forgotten to eat, and I bid him good evening. Hopefully he shall return again soon that we may

continue our endeavours !

About the change to my dreams, I feel I should mention, there appears to me now at night that I can...

not see, exactly, but get a FEEL for what is inside the machine of my dreams. Better than previously, I

mean. I’m not sure if feel is even the right word. More alike to a vague sense of deja vu when I arrange

certain pieces a certain way, I will realize they go together.

A most bizarre feeling, but one that I can’t help but feel like is some sort of divine message that I’m on

the right track!

-Eli

August 16th- King of Clubs

What previous elation I felt towards the speed and fruition of my endeavours has quickly soured and

rotted. It has been five days now since Nat first brought the batch of parts to my home,  and has come

again once since, but I have yet to make any new progress. 

I have toiled and burnt my candle at both ends ceaselessly, even begging and praying to God Almighty

for some sign or hint at what it is I need to do, some glimmer of hope. Nat doesn’t understand, no matter

how I try to explain, that I am not simply… having these parts made at random whim, and that there is in

fact a design there by which to build them, I just don’t know it. Both occasions that I've tried explaining

that to him he has given me a look such as to make me wonder if I hadn’t started speaking in tongues,

and frankly I'm not sure I can blame him. 

As much as it pains me to have him think of me as some undone loon, and pain me it does, I’m not sure

he can understand the turmoil this causes me. I feel constantly frustrated as if on the edge of being able

to understand, and that alone is enough to keep me up some nights, which is of course getting in the

way of receiving further dreams.

...why did I write receiving dreams? From whom do I think I am receiving them?

I think what I need most is sleep. I do not know if I should beg The Lord to deliver me a sign on how to

proceed, or beg Nat to simply have faith in that I know what I’m doing, and not simply wasting his time

for a lark. 

I dearly hope something changes soon.

-Eli

August 22nd- Ace of Spades

It happened. My dreams are coming to fruition, I can feel it! 

But let me explain, as I fear I shall get away with myself if I do not get my thoughts out in due order. 

It was as I was daytime sleeping in a comfortable chair after a particularly frustrating evening of trying

and failing to make progress, that I beheld the dream unlike in any capacity that I have dreamt it before.

And will the inner workings of the contraption laid bare before me, the turn of each gear, the tightening

of each spring. There was some parts I do not recognize, as if a portion of a window is frosted over

obscuring it from view, but the sections I could see I now feel confident I can assemble.

And assemble them I did. Waking from that dream I scurried about in a crazed fervour, working as if my

life was about to end.  So invested was I in my progress, so single mindedly did I work, that I did not

even notice the sun setting other than to light a candle with irritation. And from there, I scarcely noticed

the sun rising again. If it hadn't been for Nat who had come knocking at my door after I missed our

appointed luncheon and conversation, had he not forced his way in to make me rest and eat, I'd have

likely still been at it these days later to the point of collapse and ruin. 

Truly I owe that man much and not just for the services and work he has done for me. 

I have since calmed, the parts I have are assembled and Nat aided me in diagraming where each must

go and connect to each other on some instructional schematics. I mentioned next step is to acquire a

frame in which to place these parts and check that they do in fact move together as they should, and

dear Nathanial gave me the most sly of winks and said he had been guessing that step would soon

come and had already been working on a frame for me.

He said the work on it is mostly done, and has taken the schematics and diagrams to finalize

placements on it or some such. I shall go to the village tomorrow to see it, so eager am I I can hardly

sleep tonight, you can imagine the elation I felt and the excitement in my breast as I bid him good

evening and a safe journey home.

It truly feels like my prayers lately have been answered. 

-Eli

August 28th- Two of Clubs

Nat brought me the frame for the apparatus, and we spent the afternoon and evening assembling it

properly and it looks….fine. I suppose. But something felt off. Looked off. Smelled off? I’m not even

really sure what bothered me about it, and even since then i’ve barely slept and I am even less sure I

understand the wrongness I felt about that assembly till just the other day.

I believe the feeling must stem simply from it looking so far progressed, but knowing I still have work to

do. I’m sure that is all it is.

My problem now lies in an obstacle to my work, Nat has been summoned to...some place in the next

village or two over to assist with some blacksmithery project that I do not fully understand, and has yet

to return. He was apologetic, but I am reminded of his prior comment of “real work” and I would be lying

if I was to say that his absence doesn’t sting. He has been my friend and confidant among all this flurry

of activity, and without his help I'm not sure I would have progressed this far.

I’m sure he will return when his work is done, but for now it leaves me climbing at the walls like an

anxious hound. The dreams have been slow to come, and without Nat here I have had no new parts

with which to toy with.  I sit in this cottage without the energy to do anything but sleep and eat. I have

hardly even gone to the village… I probably should, if only to stock on supplies.

I miss him

Has it really been nearly a month since I came out to the countryside? I've scarcely noticed the time, it

feels like days ?

-Eli

August 31st- Jack of Diamonds

I shall be returning home to the city.

I received news that there had been an accident, a fire at the village that Nat had gone to to work. I’m

not sure of the  details, but he won’t be returning to this village.

The thought of finishing my work on this machine without his help makes me feel ill. The wretched thing

that has been my obsession for so long now sits on the desk already collecting dust. I don’t have the

motivation or willpower nor interest to keep building. The gears move but they accomplish nothing

without that good company I had to pour over it with. 

While I do not hate this curious little thing, it did after all bring me to meeting Nathanial, it now serves

only as a reminder of him and things I could have said beside questions about the measurements and

preciseness of this or that part. I do not however have the heart to dismantle it, nor take it with me.

Much like my life with Nat, it shall remain unfinished. Perhaps someone else will take an interest or it

will be used to create other things.

It’s only after losing him so soon that these visions and dreams stop that is the true cruel joke.

Goodbye Nathanial Hawthorne, may you

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The intro post to my turn for the round robin game of The Machine I'm playing with friends. I'm actually further along than I am with this blog, so I will post the next few of my turns as their own posts.

-Edit: Posted the entire log here instead, as about the day after posting this, I drew my third face card signalling Elis demise. Oops!