It had been a few weeks since the “Incident” as his mother called it and John was sitting at his desk working on some arithmetic his teacher had given him. For a second he sat back, his grandfather's reaction to his incident was funny and endearing. The doctor he brought from the Pennsylvania hospital looked him over and proceeded to ask him questions about his lifestyle The doctor had said that John was overworking himself, and while not wrong it still rubbed him the wrong way.
Since then, he had been forced to cut back on daily exercise, sword fighting, and training with Alois and Eli, though he still did his best to keep up with the two of them. With his hatred of idleness, John proceeded to throw himself into his academic studies. With his more than substantial allowance he got from his grandfather, an amount he rarely used to even half of its sum, books were brought in from across the colonies to add to the many he had already gone through in the family library. Seeing his grandson's love of books and wanting to follow the doctor's orders William had ordered an extension to the family library. The new wing of the house jutted out of the side and could accommodate another 1000 volumes if needed.
One little, “invention” of his was a way of categorizing the collection. Using the ‘Gift’ he was given he tried to imagine a system and he got one. The Dewey Decimil System, or the Decimil system as he called it, worked wonders. Eli, his mother, and a few other farmhands who were literate helped organize the collection into segments.
It worked with the groups being, 000 information & general works, 100 Philosophy & psychology, 200 Religion, 300 Social sciences, 400 Language, 500 Science, 600 Technology, 700 Arts & recreation, 800 Literature, 900 History & geography. If a person wanted to find a book on crop cycling they would look into 600 for technology, then into 630 for agriculture, and finally into 631 for crops if they would need to be that specific. John didn't see any need to add any more places as his collection was already big enough.
This invention of his caught the attention of Profession Hampton, his math teacher who talked with him about his invention. While he did agree to share it and wrote a small treatise that the professor could bring with him to the college, he asked that his name be kept off of it. This request however was ignored, much to his chagrin, when his science lecturer, a Mr Williamson informed him of the great success of the “Carpenter Decimal System”
Looking back down at the work his teacher had given him he was already doing the algebra laying down in front of him. The book he was learning from was one from Professor Hampton's collection, an Algerba book written by a former professor of math at Oxford, given as a gift for the organization system.
Stretching aimlessly he feels his elbow hit something and a loud thunk occurs. Looking over his ink well was knocked off the side of the desk and onto the hardwood floors.
“Damn it” he shouts, walking down the hallway he encounters a maid cleaning the house telling her of the mess she leaves to go clean it up. Walking through the hallways he reaches the courtyard. Finding a chair he sits for a second and ponders what could be better.
Then like a light switch it hits him, pencils. Almost all the pencils used in the colonies are imported from Britain and are in a clunky square shape. Running back to his study he sees the maid cleaning up the spill. Grabbing a notebook on a shelf and the square pencil he runs back to the yard and begins to think. He gets the location of a graphene mine, a spot west of Philadelphia, some land he could probably buy for cheap. Then he thinks of the process, the graphene would need to be mixed with water so the pure graphite would float to the surface, something that would take a few passes to get pure. Then the pure graphene would be dried and mixed with water and clay to make the cores in a simple mold. After that it would be simply putting the cores in wooden shells that could be easily made with wood, thinking for a second he gets that red cedar is the best for this. After writing all this down he begins to feel lightheaded and dizzy, a common occurrence after using his gift. Making his way toward his room he lies down on the soft sheets and promptly falls into a dreamless sleep.
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Waking up the morning sun shone through his room window, and the chirping of songbirds stirred him to get out of bed. Quickly he changes clothing as he is still in his clothing from yesterday. Slipping into a clean pair of a basic shirt and pants, clothes that members of one of, if not the richest family, in the colonies would wear. Finally, he grabs his notebook as he heads out of his room.
Sauntering downstairs he sees the clock on the wall read at seven forty-three, realising that breakfast is probably underway he heads into the family dining room. At the head of the table is his grandfather with his mother to his left of him. They were both eating a breakfast of eggs, bread, and assorted fruit. John smiled as he saw how his healthy eating habits had rubbed off on his family.
“Good Morning to you all,” he said with a smile as the two of them proceeded to look up at him. His mother gave him that smile that only a mother could give, while his grandfather simply beamed at him.
“Good morning John my boy,” he said as John sat down in a chair to the right of his grandfather.
In short order a third helping of breakfast was brought out for John to eat, a slightly bigger portion as both he and his grandfather believed that the young needed more food to grow strong. After quickly eating his breakfast John looked over at his grandfather.
“Grandpa, I have an idea, but I would need your help,” he asks in a slightly timid tone, Even now he hates using his grandfather's generosity even if the kind man would help without a moment of hesitation.
Giving another smile William looks toward John, “Of course, what do you need help with, I am all ears.”
“Well, it's a business idea, a business that is currently unestablished in all of North America.” He says trying to sound confident as he pitches his idea.
His grandfather hearing it is a business proposal instead of a familial request changes his posture while retaining his singute smile. “Oh, what idea is it.”
“The idea is to make pencils here in Philadelphia. But not just any pencils, ones better than the pencils we are currently importing from Britain.”
His grandfather humms for a second thinking about the idea. “It is a good idea, but do you have a plan” he asks in an intrigued but questioning voice.
Perking up at his grandfather's willingness to hear him out he immediately pulls out his notebook. Showing him the sketches in the notebook and the processes. The graphene is made, placed into the carved wood, sleaded with glue made of corn starch water and vinegar, then sealed and pressed overnight.
By the end of the presentation, William goes from looking skeptical to beaming again. “That is, BRILLIANT. We can corner the market and reduce the costs if we buy up a graphene mine, now where can we find one.”
Looking at his grandfather so ecstatic about his idea caused John to smile as brightly as his senior. “We can ask Mr. Williamson where to find some and start our mine it and sell off any residue for other uses” he responds.
“That is a great idea, We can send a rider to his home, it's quite close by so we may be able to hear back by the end of the day.” He says with glee, that while his grandfather may not love to spend money on the most extravagant of luxuries he loves to make money. He rushed off to somewhere, most likely his study, leaving him alone with his mother.
She gives him a soft smile. “You are so much like him, intelligent and driven,” she says looking blissfully off in the distance.
This instantly quirks his interest, “Who Mom, what man do I remind you of?” he asks with an almost hopeful tone to his voice.
Looking startled she quickly replies, “Your grandfather, you remind me of William so much it is surprising.” John is easily able to tell that she is lying but does not push any further. He just leans back in his hair and lets a sigh out.
[We are getting to the good shit, fame, wealth, and other assorted things that rich and smart people like will be coming down the pipeline soon enough.”