The Candle Maker

These were not good times.

At least not anymore.

Most of the dark period was over, but the rebuilding process was slow. They said it would be a long time until things were like they were before.

Money was tight.

My father set me up with a job in the neighboring town.

There was a man who was a renowned candle maker in the sleepy little hollow.

Candles were popular now that electricity was unreliable, and he was one of the few who knew how to make them.

It helped that they were of exceptional quality. They lasted longer than anyone else’s and burned brighter.

He was hard to work for though and couldn’t keep an assistant.

I gathered myself before entering the shop pushed the door open, the little bell jingled to signal my arrival.

I was surprised when a kind, elderly man came from the back. He certainly didn’t look like the type to run off his workers.

“Hello there,” he said with a cheerful smile.

“H-hello,” I said.

“Are you the new apprentice?”

“Yes sir.”

“Oh no need to be so formal. Call me John.”

“Okay.”

“Are you ready to get started? I figured we might as well jump into it.”

“Sure.”

“Good. Grab an apron off the hook.”

I did as I was told.

At the far far of the shop there were two pots with liquid substances in them.

“Now this is what you’ll be doing mostly. Have you ever made a candle before?”

I shook my head.

“Well it couldn’t be easier. Just take one of those strings and dip it in the wax and then the water. It’ll build up until it’s as big as the those over there,” he said pointing to the candles on the wall.

“I can handle that.”

“Good. I’ll be in the back getting the wax ready. It’s my secret that makes these so good. If a customer comes in just holler and I’ll take care of them.”

“Okay.”

So I settled in. It was simple if mind numbing work but it beat working in the fields. Soon I had a candle ready and started on another.

Every so often someone would come in and I’d yell for John to come, and he’d sell the candles and send them on their way.

We got into quite a rhythm. I made them and he’d sell'em. It went on for a good couple weeks.

Finally, I asked what kept happening to the other assistants.

“Oh dear,” he said, nearly laughing. “It’s quite the story around town. Everyone thinks I’m so mean I drive them off and they leave town just to get away.”

“That’s not the case?”

“Oh god no. Once my assistants get some practice in I send them off with a case full of candles and they set up shop in towns far away. I just let the people around here think I run them off. I don’t want the people in town knowing there’s other places to buy my candles.”

It seemed like a good enough answer. I was ashamed I was so scared of him.

One day I was making candles. I was getting faster and I ran out of wax before John came to replenish it.

I figured I’d been there long enough so I walked to the back.

I called John’s name but there was no answer. I opened one of the doors that I thought led to his workshop. Instead it was a closet.

Only the funny thing was that it was full of clothes that could never have fit John.

I looked a little longer and I realized that I’d seen most of these clothes before. On the kids who became the candle maker’s assistants!

I closed the closet only to see John standing there.

“My, my, my aren’t we curious,” he said.

“I-I didn’t see anything,” I stammered.

“Oh boy, there’s no use lying.”

“I don’t get it why do you have all those clothes?”

“Well I couldn’t risk them showing up in the trash. The kids were supposed to leave town.”

“What happened to them?”

“You ever wonder what made those candles you make so good?”

“Not really?”

“We it turns out you can make wax from humans if you do it just right. Boil’em down perfectly and you’ll get a candle that works wonders. If you know the right spell that is.”

I turned to run, but John tossed a powder in the air and as I breathed it in I dropped to the ground.

“Shame you had to see that. You were a good assistant.”

All I remember was the world going black as the candle maker dragged me by the foot to the back room where he made the wax.

When I woke up, my head was so hot and I was staring out the shop's front window…

And the next day the candle maker put a sign out advertising for help. And many people would pass the shop not noticing the lit candle in the window silently screaming.