A person of Neshiyah
Rachel Hadar, potter
Potter
Rachel Hadar
Potter, about 87 years old. Born in Neshiyah, like everyone.
Rachel Hadar sits at her wheel behind the open door of her shed, the clay spinning under her fingers like a slow, patient conversation. Her hands are cracked and strong, the nails packed with gray slip; she never wipes them, only shakes them dry. She works in a low, steady rhythm, humming old field songs under her breath, and the townspeople say the pots she throws hold their water cooler and their walls straighter than any others. She wants the north road’s fog to lift, just once, so she can see what lies beyond the gate she was turned back at. They see her as the town’s still point, even-tempered, always among them, never asking more than the day gives.
Temperament
Content not to ask; trusting, within reason; even-tempered; always in company; never still.
What people say
Rachel Hadar believes what everyone believes: the fog is the edge of the world, and the fields need working whether it is true or not.
What the record shows
- day 50 Rachel Hadar and Hillel Kfir came to blows at the mill over nothing much.
- day 43 A guard at the end of the north road turned Rachel Hadar back at the fog line with a reminder that the Council prefers people to stay at their work.
- day 23 Rachel and Liora talked a long while at the square.
- day 18 Ariel the younger and Rachel came to blows at the square over nothing much.