Grantville Gazette.Volume XVI Page 11

  Tommy stared at the door Elisabetha had left through and smiled. "I don't bet against a sure thing."

  ***

  Hunting Traditions

  Garrett W. Vance

  Walt Dorrman looked up at the cold blue skies of an early October morning and knew that it was time to go hunting. He went to his small but well loved gun collection and held them one by one, as if greeting old friends. He had grown up hunting; it was a tradition in his family as it had been for most West Virginians; the roads from Grantville now leading to Rudostaldt and Saalfeld instead of Fairmont and Monongah didn't change that. Walt pondered the forests of the Thuringerwald, could they bring him the pleasure that the West Virginia mountain country had supplied in such bounty? Walt aimed to find out. One by one he approached his old hunting pals, trying to get a group together as they had done so many times before the Ring of Fire. One by one his friends apologized, they'd love to come but they were just too busy with all the new responsibilities and challenges the seventeenth century had thrust upon them, even for a weekend hunting trip. Walt came home and slumped glumly in his favorite chair. His wife Crystal found him there staring at the black TV screen.

  "What are you doing, honey?" she asked cautiously. They were still newlyweds and their love was good but she had learned that Walt occasionally had gloomy moods and that it was best to lead him out of them gently. Walt was having a more difficult time adjusting to their new century than she was and there wasn't anything in the self help and positive thinking books she had collected about dealing with time travel.

  "I'm pretending to watch a football game."

  Crystal laughed, laying her hands softly on his shoulders. "Who's winning?"

  "The WVU Mountaineers of course."

  "Who are they playing?"

  "The Dallas Cowboys."

  "But that's a pro team!"

  "Hey, this is my fantasy. If you don't like it make up your own TV show."

  "Okay, okay!" She began rubbing his shoulders gently. "Walt, is something bothering you?"

  Walt slumped back, blowing out a sighing breath of air. "Yeah, I tried to get the guys to go hunting but nobody can make it. Everybody's busy trying to build an empire I guess. Me, I just want to do some hunting and get out of town for a couple days."

  Crystal kneaded her understanding into Walt's taut shoulders. "I understand how you feel, honey. Could I go with you?"

  Walt chuckled grimly. "Crystal, you couldn't flush a dead goldfish down the toilet without tears. You do not want to go hunting, trust me. I'm just going to go ahead and go alone; it won't be the first time."

  Crystal's massage stopped. "Alone? I don't think that's a very good idea Walt."

  "Why not? I used to go out alone all the time, even when I was just a kid."

  "Yes, but that was up-time West Virginia, not down-time Thuringia. Things aren't the same here… they're more dangerous."

  "Oh come on, what's dangerous about it?"

  "Well, remember those bandits that attacked your mom and Mister Gerbald up by the lake?"

  "Crystal, that was a couple years ago. The police have got things under control now."

  "You can't tell me the Grantville cops have got an officer patrolling every wooded hillside in the region. At work I'm out on the roads and I see maybe one cop a day once you leave the Ring and there are some unfriendly looking dudes out and about. I stay in the grader most of the time."

  Walt rubbed his temples in an attempt to coax out some patience. "Okay, sure, there are some bad guys in the world. But look at it this way: I'll be a lot better armed. Crystal, I'm going nuts here! I need to do something familiar, something so I can just feel normal again. I love hunting and I know what I'm doing; please don't give me a hard time. Besides, it wouldn't hurt any to have some fresh meat on the table."

  Crystal gave him a long worried look and then smiled weakly. "All right darlin'. It's just 'cause I love you. Thinking of you out there alone in the woods at night just kind of scares me."

  "I know, but really, I'll be fine. It's totally safe."

  The next day Walt bustled about preparing his gear. His pack and tent were a bit musty so he laid them out in the front yard to air them in the sun. It was getting cold at night but the afternoons were still fairly balmy; perfect hunting weather in Walt's estimation. He studied the tent for a few minutes, he had only used it a couple of times back home where he could put the canopy on his old Chevy truck and park it at the end of some back road, an easy walk to the hunting grounds. Here in the sixteen hundreds his truck had been sold to the road department because gas was so expensive (which still irked him) and was no longer his at all. He'd just have to hike and use the tent and reasoned that the joy of hunting would be worth the extra trouble.

  Around four o'clock Crystal said goodbye cheerfully as she left to go visit his mother, Pam. This was her own business; Walt still wasn't very comfortable with their chumminess, even though their friendship had started before Crystal even knew Pam was his mom. Thanks to Crystal's gentle pressure he at least talked to his mother these days, albeit for very brief periods of time and relations were still strained. He didn't say much to Crystal on the subject since Crystal had lost everyone to the Ring of Fire, except her aunt who lived in town, and Walt knew she was kind of desperate to build a new family. If she could find common ground with his mom where he never could, well, he supposed he was happy for both of them. A few hours later she came home wearing an expression of being most pleased with herself. Walt thought about asking her what was up but then decided that sometimes it was better not to know and went back to fussing with his gear.

  Just after dinner a knock came at the door. Walt opened it to find a man wearing a sage green long coat, a misshapen mustard yellow hat and a shortsword belted to his hip. It took him a moment to realize this was Gerbald, his mother's hired man, or more accurately, bodyguard. In any case it was about the last person (other than his mother) who he expected to see at his front door. Even more surprisingly the man was smiling affably; the last time Walt had seen the ex-soldier he had worn a stony scowl that seemed permanent.

  "Hello Walt. I am Gerbald."

  "Yes, hello, Gerbald. I remember you. Uh, what can I do for you?" Before Gerbald could answer, Crystal's voice came from the kitchen.

  "Walt? Who is it?"

  "It's my mom's… friend, Gerbald, honey," he called back

  "Oh, good! Don't just stand there, invite him in!" The woman was able to see through walls, one of many such super powers that Walt, after three months of marriage, was still discovering. He turned to the still patiently smiling visitor at his door.

  "Sorry! Come in Gerbald. Can I get you a drink?"

  "Beer, if you don't mind." This was something nearly all Grantville men, up-time or down, agreed on. It had taken some time to get used to the stronger flavors but the up-timers had now pretty much unanimously come to the conclusion that the local stuff was a damn sight better than that watery stuff in cans they used to get.

  "Sure. Have a seat, I'll be right back." Before he could take one step toward their small kitchen Crystal appeared, carrying a tray with two tall glasses of golden Weissbeer.

  "Hi, Gerbald! Thanks for stopping by!" Crystal favored Gerbald with her best smile, the one that could stop traffic; it came in handy in her job with the road crew.

  "The pleasure is mine, Crystal." Gerbald sat carefully on a stool, to accommodate the sheathed sword that was his perpetual companion, the picture of a contented guest. He raised his glass to Walt, who still stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

  "To your health. It is so nice to see such happy young people." Apparently Crystal appeared happy enough for two. He drained his glass more than half way with the first swallow.

  "Uh, thanks. Cheers." Walt joined his wife on the loveseat, where she sat beaming rays of sunshine from her freckled face.

  "So, honey, why is Gerbald here?" he asked nonchalantly.

  Crystal's penny bright eyes shone with satisfaction. "
Well, you're going hunting next week and none of your usual crowd can make it and so I thought it would be nice for you to have someone to go with! I was talking to Pam and she told me that Mr. Gerbald here is a very experienced woodsman."

  Walt stared at her. "So you invited him to go with me?"

  "Yes! You two can go together! Gerbald knows his way around the Thuringerwald and he's an expert tracker, but he doesn't have a hunting rifle. So, he would trade his skills for a share of the meat, plus share any game birds he snares with us. If you guys joined forces it would be a lot safer, and you'd have a better hunt!"

  Walt frowned. Gerbald smiled, contentedly making the rest of his beer disappear.

  "Crystal, like I told you yesterday, I've gone hunting alone many times, since I was just fifteen! I know how to track a buck. Besides, I know what you're really up to. You're afraid of me going out alone so you're borrowing my mom's bodyguard."

  Crystal rolled her eyes, and then narrowed them. "What if I am? Ya know, back in West Virginia there weren't people with swords and a general lack of guilt about killing other people roaming the countryside, either. Sure, things are better since we got here, but there are still wars going on all around us, as you should know mister army reservist, and a guy out alone is an easy target for bandits, deserters, the black knight, whatever. Gerbald was a soldier, he knows what's going on and he knows these woods like the back of his hand-pretty basically the best possible guy to go hunting with in these times, comprende, Bucko?" Her arms were crossed, which was a bad sign; reasoning would be futile.

  Walt looked to Gerbald. "Gerbald, help me out here. I've been hunting since I was a kid, I don't need a baby sitter. In your opinion is there any real danger in hunting the Thuringerwald?"

  Gerbald looked thoughtful. "Well, I am sure you are an able woodsman Walt, most Grantvillers are. You have faced dangers in the woods and handled them, I have no doubt. But, even though your excellent police have driven the worst sorts from our roads and towns, there is still the possibility that such men are about and the woods are still a good place to hide. In any case, bandits or not, I would be glad to have your gun at my side; I'm afraid all I have are a couple of pistols of the kind we had before Grantville appeared and I'm sure you are aware of their shortcomings. Your up-time weapons are much better."

  Walt swallowed those salves to his wounded pride. He had seen the pistols of the day and they were like something out of an old pirate movie. Not seeing an easy way out he decided he might as well go along with it. Gerbald seemed like a pretty decent sort for an older guy and his English was nearly as good as a Grantvillers, he had even a developed a hillbilly twang in his accent. It would be kind of like going out with his dad's old chums like he had done when he was a little kid. Also, Walt very strongly wanted to show his bewitching new bride that he could put food on the table with his own hands and he reckoned it would be useful having a guide who knew the territory. He looked to Gerbald again.

  "Well, let's do it then. It's early October now, when do you think we should go?"

  "How about this weekend? My schedule is flexible. I know an excellent place as well, a wilderness under the control of an old friend, a most excellent hunting ground."

  Walt nodded while Crystal's face filled with obvious relief.

  "Oh, thanks for agreeing, Walt. I'll feel a lot better knowing you aren't out there alone." Crystal's mission was accomplished. "Here, let me get you guys some more beer."

  ***

  After Gerbald's departure Walt sighed and shook his head. "So, I get to go hunting with Rutger Hauer as Daniel Boone. That's just wunderbar. "

  "Walt honey, I'm going to sleep a lot better knowing you aren't alone out there. I'm a little old city girl, remember? I'm a'scared of the big bad woods!"

  "Yeah, right, Farmington was a huge metropolis. And from what I've seen so far you ain't scared of nothin'."

  Crystal smiled, a beatific expression gracing her face. "Maybe so, but I can be scared for people I care about. Now come here my mountain man, we got some cuddling to do."

  ***

  Friday afternoon Gerbald came up the road with only a simple leather bag strapped over his shoulder. Walt was out in the yard with Crystal who was trying to help him and pretty much only getting in the way. He was now regretting agreeing to this team-up and was just wishing to be left alone.

  " Waidmann's Heil!" Gerbald called out cheerfully. "That is the traditional hunter's greeting."

  "Well, howdy do. Ya know, West Virginians have a traditional hunter's greeting as well: Hey dude, let's kill some shit! " Walt answered back in a slightly mocking tone.

  Gerbald looked at him with a keen eye. "Ah, so I see, of course you have your traditions as well. Very well then, let'skill some shit , dude."

  Although Gerbald was smiling broadly, hearing the older man repeat his sarcastic words made Walt feel rather small. Crystal saw his discomfiture and joined Gerbald in gazing on him with the patience of the wise and ancient.

  "Walt, we must be respectful of traditions," she whispered at him chidingly. Walt scowled at her, his face growing hot. She was only two years older than he was and could hardly be counted in the ranks of the traditional.

  "Well let's get going then." Walt turned and started marching down the drive. Crystal caught his arm and swung her arms into an embrace around his neck.

  "Not without a hug, bucko." As Crystal jumped on him Walt looked around to see that Gerbald had managed to wander over to the garden's edge and become very interested in the stone border's construction. Walt hugged her back.

  "I 'm sorry I've been so moody lately, Crystal. I'm still getting used to how things are here in this time, I can't help it. I never thought I'd be living in a world like this. Having to go hunting with our local representative of The Merry Men for a guide is just kind of hard to swallow."

  "I know, Walt. We all feel that way sometimes, but this is our world now, this is where we're going to grow old and raise our kids. I want you around for all that."

  "Kids? Jeez, Crystal, don't even say that word yet! We just got hitched a few months ago."

  "That's plenty of time! Well, don't you fuss about our future joy right now, sweetness. Just go out in the woods and shoot some shit for me and have some man fun. I'll be here waiting… in those cut-offs you like so much." Walt felt his head starting to spin, raise our kids and those cut-offs held hands and danced dizzily in a circle around him singing tra-la-la. He kissed her quickly and disengaged himself- the Thuringerwald now beckoned as a refuge for all free men of the land, and those who used to be.

  "Hey, Gerbald, let's go! Bye, honey!"

  "Have fun, fellas." Walt glanced back to see her still standing in the yard with a serene smile. He waved and hurried his pace.

  Raise our kids… US!?

  ***

  Walt was still wrestling mentally with the concept of his not so blushing bride growing large around the middle and a future of diaper changes and late night bottles. For God's sake, someone had better reinvent disposable diapers before that happy event! They left the smooth but slowly cracking roads of Grantville for the more primitive surface across the Ring of Fire's rim. Crystal had most likely graded this stretch from a rutted wagon track to something resembling a modern road herself. A sense of pride in his hard working and very damn pretty wife swelled up in him; yes, he had done exceptionally well. If becoming a father was inevitable he at least knew he had made the right choice for a partner in that difficult venture. His own folks had divorced as soon as they thought he was old enough to take it and Walt had long ago solemnly vowed not to be like them. His love for Crystal was fierce, what she gave back was the same and sometimes the intensity of it nearly scared him. Walt decided to give his mind a break and tried to concentrate on the scenery instead.

  They passed fields and farms. He saw a clanky up-time tractor working the same field as a team of oxen. Later they passed by an advertisement for" The Best Cheeseburgers in Thuringia "painted bright red in modern block le
tters in both English and German on the side of a barn that looked to have been erected in the Iron Age. These were evidence of the spread of America into their new time and country. It occurred to Walt that some of his usual resentment at missing out on the comforts of the 1990's had been replaced by a fascination with the new nation they were building here. If-no, better make that when -he did become a father this would be the world his children would live in. Looking at the pure blue skies and amber fields of a German fall he thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad. At least they would have cheeseburgers.

  They walked a long time through the pastoral storybook countryside, the leaves all the cheerful red and gold of autumn; then walked a long time again. Walt was now too tired to mull over his future complications or enjoy the scenery and simply concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. After a short rest near a muddy field in which Gerbald visited some bushes they continued to walk a long time again. The straps of Walt's pack, heavy with his hunting rifle and ammo, began to chafe his shoulders even through the thick material of his baseball jacket. His feet were beginning to hurt in his light hiking boots. He had born this long walking in stoic silence but enough was enough. Finally he asked: "Are we there yet?"

  "Nope." Gerbald's tone was irritatingly contented.

  "That's what I figured you'd say…"

  After a further extended period of sore-footed ambulation the afternoon was growing late indeed. At last Gerbald came to a pause; he and Walt stood at the edge of towering pine woods sweeping up into brooding hills. Unsurprisingly the forest was dark, damp and inhospitable looking beneath the needled canopy.

  "So, is this where Hansel and Gretel got lost?" Walt asked while regarding the intensely primeval quality of their destination with a doubtful expression.

  Gerbald chuckled, the sound nearly swallowed by the enormity of the hushed woodland. "No my friend, that is a few miles west. This is the wood where Little Red Riding Hood met the wolf!" Gerbald laughed merrily at the jest, not making Walt feel in the least bit better.