A/N: Thanks everyone so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting: Aelan01, amy1oM, Arlothia, gaben, leavenotrace, and moonmagick. You all rock! Whereinthewrld, and Always-Underrated thank you so much for betaing and dealing with my many neuroses.
Chapter 3: Arbor una nobilis
"Arbor una nobilis." One and only noble tree. Eliot thought about those words as he stared at the bookcase in front of him. Elambert his massage therapist had told him about it when he'd gotten a massage the week before. She knew about his sleeping habits, and his reading habits. And she'd seen his home; and thus knew about the stacks of books he had. Stacks and stacks of books. So she'd told him about the bookcase she'd seen at an antique shop she'd gone into with her sister when they'd gone for lunch. She'd told him about how sad it looked sitting in a corner of the clearance room while she'd been working out the muscle knots he'd gotten from Nate's latest plan. "Man, Nate came up with some risky plans." The hitter shook his head.
So that left him here, standing in his barn, staring at a rather decrepit bookcase. Eliot sat down and looked at the bookcase; he'd taken out the adjustable shelves and set them to the side. There were dents and dings in it; a couple of paint scuffs, some mold along one edge, and a couple of pieces of molding were coming off. Specifically it was the trim along the top, and the right hand side. And apparently someone, at one time, had decided that the oak bookcase needed to blend into a mint green décor – so there were pieces of it that had God-awful mint green paint splattered on it. Well, looking at the color of the wood Eliot thought it might be made out of oak that had been stained. The grain looked kind of oakish. All in all there really wasn't too much going for this piece of furniture.
Eliot looked at the rather sad looking bookcase; it was kind of like him. Taken too many hits over the years; but, kept on going. The hitter looked at the bookcase and saw himself in it. He looked at what it would take to bring this bookcase back to its glory. He needed to remove the loose trim, strip all the layers of paint and varnish off it, sand it, stain it, and then coat it in a protective covering.
The bookcase stared back at him; Eliot would swear up and down that it did. He took a swallow of the cup of coffee that had been cooling on the support beam. Picking up the slim bladed joint knife; it wasn't the typical knife that you would get down at Lowe's or the Home Depot this one had a slight angle to the blade; the hitter attacked. He removed the pieces of loose molding and carefully set them aside on the tarp he'd put down earlier.
This bookcase might not be made of acacia wood or covered in gold like the Ark of the Covenant. But, it had been crafted by hand and it looked like someone had crafted it with love. This bookshelf deserved some caring and love. After removing the loose trim, Eliot took out off the rails which allowed the shelves to move up and down.
Picking up the can of stripper Eliot carefully smoothed it onto the horizontal surfaces of the bookcase. He'd do the vertical surfaces next. The fifteen minute wait for the striper to set gave him time to finish his cup of coffee, and to ponder the latest phone call from Maggie. She'd liked the chutney he'd sent. That had been a very odd call which had thrown him for a loop.
The timer went off and Eliot donned gloves and began carefully removing the stripper with his full concentration on the bookcase. What kind of wood was under the many layers of polyurethane, varnish, and paint? It was tightly grained, and a lighter colored wood. After he removed the rest of the stripper and peeled off the gloved the hitter took a step back and stared at the now naked bookcase.
He grabbed a bottle of water and took a drink looking at the bookshelf. Grabbing a rag and saturating it in denatured alcohol he gently cleaned off the surfaces he'd stripped. Without the residue the damp wood seemed to glow. Chestnut, the bookcase was made out of Chestnut. And unless Eliot missed his guess, this was American Chestnut. It was a wood which was often mistaken for oak; but, was very distinctive once you looked at it closely. He'd have to tell Maggie next time she called; it would be a nice point of discussion. She would appreciate it; after all their discussions had covered everything from Russian icons to fish & chips.
"American Chestnut." Eliot mumbled to himself as he went to get himself some lunch. That put a whole new spin on the bookcase; it was truly a gem in disguise. Looking at the wood combined with the finish it was probably over a hundred years old. He pulled his hair back from where it had fallen out of the ponytail and tried to decide what style it was. Greek Revival? It did have the symmetry which common to that period; but, no. Empire? Regency? Federal? Colonial? Nothing really fit; it was kind of like him: A mash-up of many styles.
After finishing his sandwich Eliot wrapped the block with a new piece of sandpaper and began sanding the top of the bookcase. He concentrated fully on task at hand, letting all of his senses become one. Back and forth with the grain of the board. "Arbor una nobilis." The hitter muttered. "One and only noble tree."
It was from a hymn he'd heard a long time ago; and although this was a much different context it felt appropriate.
Crux fidelis, inter omnes arbor una nobilis,
nulla talem silva profert flore, fronde, germine,
dulce lignum dulce clavo dulce pondus sustinens.
Slowly; but, surely the simple beauty of the wood came out. He changed to a finer grit of sandpaper and continued working letting the warm afternoon sun wash over him as the beauty of the wood and the craftsmanship emerged. One and only noble tree.
Standing up and stretching Eliot looked up and noticed that it was almost dark which would explain why he was stiff. He looked at the bookcase; it was starting to look really good. It needed several more hours of sanding; but, when it was done it would really be a distinctive and very noble piece of furniture.
E/N: The phone call's I reference are Sprite91360's totally awesome series of fics called (drum roll please): Phone Calls. Read them, love them, and give her the kudos she deserves!
And the translations for the Pange Lingua Gloriosi Proelium Certaminis are quite interesting. There are the literal translations; and then the not so literal translations. One of the more common translations was done in the 1930s:
Faithful cross, thou sign of triumph,
Now for us the noblest tree,
None in foliage, none in blossom,
None in fruit thy peer may be;
Symbol of the world's redemption,
For the weight that hung on thee!
I personally prefer a more literal translation which keeps the original structure:
Faithful Cross, above all other, one and only noble Tree!
None in foliage, none in blossom, none in fruit thy peers may be;
Sweetest wood and sweetest iron, sweetest weight is hung on thee!