The Nerves Begin

It was his fourteenth birthday, and Felix was anxiously looking forward to finding out which of the village tradesmen would agree to train him. It was not likely to be the blacksmith, whose apprentice would have to be big and strong to handle the hot metal and heavy tools. Felix was intelligent enough to realise that his small frame made him a most unsuitable candidate. The worst scenario would be that he would end up apprenticed to Drevil, the village undertaker. Drevil was a tall, bony man with sunken eyes. He seemed to glide along rather than walk as other people did and had a peculiar softness in his voice that sent eerie shivers down Felix's spine. There were other possibilities, the butcher or cooper for example, but all of the tradesmen, it seemed to Felix, would want far more brawn than brains. Sometimes it was not such an advantage to have his quick, inquisitive mind, he would have much rather been tall and muscular. Felix began to push the remains of his food around his plate and pondered.
"Thinkin' won't make no difference now, lad. You can't change what's already been decided." His mother's gentle voice broke into Felix's contemplation. "Just a couple of hours, then you'll know," she continued. "Just remember that whatever it seems, it will all turn out for the best."
Felix forced a nervous smile and nodded. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. All he had to do now was wait until midday, when the people of the village would all gather together, and he would be told who had agreed to take him on. Then there would be some little apptitude test or other to complete, just to make sure, and the rest of his life would be mapped out from there.