Grantville Gazette. Volume 21 Read online

  Granted, the two years spent in Grantville had been the best in many years. It was comfortable, they had enough to eat, and he had steady employment building elegant wooden coffins which occasionally challenged his talents as a cabinetmaker. He was well paid. Central heating in their tiny apartment. Plumbing from the twenty-first century. It was very comfortable.

  They had no friends, only knew a few people, and he liked it that way. If you became too settled, you became weak, which led to being complacent, which inevitably led to tragedy. Always vigilant, always prepared to survive. That was the struggle of life in this time, and anyone who thought differently was a fool.

  He heard the sounds of conversation at the door in the hallway. Quietly he picked up the sputtering candle and moved to the door. He put his head against it to listen.

  "… nice time as usual, Ian. Thank you for walking me home again. You don't have to do it, though. I was walking home for two years before I met you."

  "As always, it's my pleasure to do so." There was a pause.

  Karol opened the door and looked at the two of them. Ian was holding his daughter's hand and was bending to kiss it. The candle held below Karol's countenance made it look as if his disembodied head was floating in the darkness. Both Ian and Ursula jumped back, Ian dropped her hand.

  "Papa! This-this is a surprise."

  He responded with a small grunt.

  "Papa, have you ever met Ian? Ian, this is my Papa, Karol Volz. Papa, this is Ian. He is a-a friend."

  Another small grunt. He looked at this Ian fellow, slowly, up and down. Karol didn't like the way he was dressed, the way he stood, or the way he smelled. He liked nothing about the man. He sounded foreign. Foreigners are never a good sign.

  Ian tuned to Karol and extended his hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Herr Volz. I've heard many things about you. Your daughter says you're a wonderful man, very intelligent."

  Karol let the man's hand hang in the air, and raised his candle to the man's face to get a good look. He was handsome in a way. Which made it all the more improbable his intentions toward Ursula were honorable. Karol gave a slightly more definitive grunt which registered his displeasure, then looked at his daughter and tossed his head in the direction of the door. She immediately went in, leaving him and Ian alone in the doorway. Karol gestured for the Englishman to come closer, and he whispered a monotone into his ear.

  "If you do anything to hurt her, you will pay."

  Karol leaned back and again put the candle up to the face of the Englishman, and watched for a reaction. The fact there was none told Karol all he needed to know. He's masking his reactions, his intentions are far from honorable. He is a skilled liar. Karol kept his face passive as he read the man's reactions. As he brought the candle back to his face, he said simply and flatly. "Understand?"

  "Perfectly." Ian then looked past Karol, into the darkness of the apartment where Ursula was waiting, out of sight. "I will see you on Monday night, Ursula. Thank you for a wonderful evening."

  "Thank you," replied Ursula timidly from the darkness, as Ian retreated down the hallway.

  Karol closed the door and grunted again, softly, with worry. He held the candle below his drooping face, and turned to seek out Ursula, who appeared out of the shadows. Without changing expression, he simply said, "I forbid you to see him."

  Ursula whispered angrily. "You can't do that. Not here. Not in Grantville. Things are different here. I am different here."

  "There is no discussion. I forbid you to see him."

  "Papa. I am old enough to make these decisions for myself. It's important I keep seeing him; I'm enjoying life for a change, Papa. Can you understand?"

  Karol stepped toward Ursula so quickly, she retreated a step. He whispered harshly. "That man is false. He will hurt you."

  "So what? So what if he hurts me? That's my choice, not yours. You don't think I know he's full of… of-poop most of the time?

  "Keep your voice down. You'll wake your mother."

  "Do you understand why this is important to me, Papa? I need to do this. I need to do this now. Here in this place. Grantville. This is our home now, Papa"

  "Our home is where I say it will be!" His voice was barely contained. "We're staying here for now. It's comfortable. Too comfortable I think, for our own good. It has clouded your judgment. The evil world is still out there, Ursula. And it can come roaring down the street any time of the day or night, like the horsemen of the apocalypse. We need to be prepared to move on at a moment's notice, fleeing before whatever army or plague is coming next. There is always an army or a plague coming. Being involved with people only slows you down. It clouds your judgment. Stay separate from the community, and live off of it. You must not become attached."

  "I don't want to be a parasite on where I live. I want to live here, not just exist. I want to be part of this community, to grow. This is a special place."

  "Special? All you do is pick up people's trash in the evening."

  "You just don't understand, Papa. You just don't understand."

  "You are wrong, Ursula. I do understand. I understand perfectly well what you wish. It's you who fail to understand the consequences of what you wish for. You know I'm right. We've escaped from how many towns before they were destroyed? Three? That boy, back in Magdeburg. Is he alive now? No. He is dead in the ground. Rotting flesh, if there was any flesh left from the fires. What would have happened if we-or you-had stayed behind because of a feeling of fondness for him? Or his family? Or our neighbors?" He paused and looked at the candle, the single source of light in a very dark room. He took a breath and looked his daughter in the eyes. "There are two states of being. Life and death. Don't give me any religious crap. When you die, you go to the same place you were before you were born. Nothingness. So if we flee, if we live like parasites, it is because we must. To survive. To live."

  He could see Ursula's eyes full of tears in the dim light, and she snuffled. "There's got to be more, Papa. There's got to be more…"

  He placed the candle on the table, and put his strong arms around her. "There is no 'more.' Only family, and to survive. Stay away from him, and all the other entanglements and snares in this place. We must be able to think clearly."

  "I can't, Papa."

  "I will not leave you behind."

  "You won't have to. When and if the time comes to leave, I will be there with you and Mama. You have my word, Papa. My solemn oath. But I must keep seeing him. It is very important."

  Karol broke the embrace, and looked at his daughter. Her features were difficult to make out in the light of the fading candle. "Is there something you are not telling me?"

  "No, Papa."

  "You are not with child?"

  "NO, PAPA!" she gasped. "I would never. We would have to sue him for support for the child. That would be an entanglement."

  "Go to sleep now. In the morning, in the light of day, this won't seem so bad. I have an errand I want you to run in the morning."

  "Yes, Papa."

  He grunted his goodnight.

  ***

  Ursula squinted against the bright sunshine as she made her way into the heart of Grantville. Ollie Reardon's machine shop was easy to spot. It was one of the largest in town, near where the railroad tracks used to be, before they were torn up and used for the ironclads. The large metal sided building was confusing, and she did not know where the office was located. There was a group of men outside one of the big roll-up doors, who looked to be taking a break. They all squatted on the ground, or perched on various pieces of scrap in the side yard of the shop. She timidly approached one of the men standing away from the others, reading.

  "Excuse me. Can you tell me where to find the office? I have some hinges from my father…"

  The man looked up from his reading, a thick book with very small printing. It looked to be some sort of a technical book, and he had been studying it closely. "Of course. It's right through the door here, and to the right, follow the path with the yell
ow lines, the office is just past the line boring machine and the old…" He stopped and looked at her expression. "Never mind, just follow me."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "No need to call me 'sir.'" My name is Heinrich. Heinrich Fremd. Haven't seen you around town before."

  They walked toward the door. "My name is Ursula. Ursula Volz. We have lived here for two years."

  Heinrich got a twinkle in his eye. "That is a shocking name, Miss-it is "Miss" isn't it-Volz?" She nodded, blushing slightly as they passed into the shop. "I guess you hear that joke all the time."

  "What joke is that, Heinrich?"

  "You know, Volts. Shocking? Volts can Hertz you? There have got to be a million of those up-timer jokes." The expression on her face must have given it away. "You have no idea what I am talking about, do you?"

  "No, Heinrich, I don't."

  "Seriously?"

  Ursula felt mortified. If it had been two months ago, before she started going out after work, stretching herself, she would have fled this embarrassing encounter in tears. But today: "Heinrich. I-I… You are embarrassing me." The last part came out stronger than she meant it to, and poor Heinrich looked stunned.

  Heinrich stopped and turned to her in the middle of the quiet shop. He was blushing. "I'm terribly sorry. I assumed you were an old Grantville hand after two years. Please forgive my forward behavior. I apologize, I'm not that sort of an oaf. Although I'm acting like it." He bowed at her briefly, as a courtier might, in the middle of the machine shop. "I must make it up to you. We need to start over. Could I buy you lunch tomorrow as an apology? Please?"

  She saw the office door just ahead of her. "Thank you Herr Fremd. I appreciate the guidance. But I can make it to the office by myself now."

  "And lunch? Tomorrow?"

  She stopped with her hand on the doorknob to the office, and turned to him. "Why not? I'll meet you at Billy's Diner tomorrow at noon." She really liked the cute expression on his face, a combination of embarrassment, happiness, and now worry. What on earth could he be worried about? She went into the office and closed the door behind her, a quick glance told her he was still standing in the aisle, with the same dumb-cute look on his face.

  ***

  The end-of-break bell rang, and men started going back to the machines. The bell shook Heinrich out of his trance. "What in the hell did you just do, Heinrich? You idiot." He started walking back to his machine, shaking his head slowly.

  "Hey, hang on there a minute, Heinrich. You sure were nice to that young lady. Although she looked like she wanted to run away for a moment or two." His foreman, Grant Matowski, was flagging him down. "What did you say to her?"

  "I made a stupid joke about her last name. It is Volz, so I made a very lame joke about volts and hertz-"

  "Her name is Volz? Holy shit, it's true. Eeyore does have a daughter. Wait a second. You didn't ask her out did you?"

  Heinrich shifted uncomfortably. "I had to, after I embarrassed her. Lunch is all. Billy's Diner tomorrow. And who is E-hore?"

  Grant started laughing. "EE-Yore. You know, the melancholy donkey? Surely you know Eeyore Volz, the saddest man in town? Oh, I remember now. You don't go to funerals. Or church."

  "Let's not start that again, Grant…"

  Late August, 1635, Grantville

  Elsa Volz looked at her daughter across the kitchen table which doubled as a sewing table in their small apartment. The apartment, while very tiny, had one major advantage, the large south-facing window in the kitchen. The large window allowed Elsa and Ursula to sew from dawn to dusk. Elsa looked carefully at her daughter. She seemed very tired, her eyes were red, and there were circles under her eyes. He hands were steady, so Elsa knew it probably wasn't alcohol. She had lost weight. She came to bed late, and awoke before anyone else. Elsa leaned back from her work and looked out the window.

  "You look tired, Ursula. Have you been feeling well?"

  "I'm okay."

  "Have you been sleeping well?"

  "Enough."

  "I see." Elsa went back to her sewing for several moments, the only sound was of rustling cloth. She put it aside again. This time she looked at her daughter, not out the window.

  "Your father says you are 'dating' three men."

  Ursula flinched. "Ouch. I stabbed myself with a needle. Silly me." She popped her thumb into her mouth, sucking on it to stop the small blood flow.

  The room was very quiet now, and Elsa leaned forward toward her daughter. "Care to explain to me how you are dating three men? At the same time?"

  "I am not 'dating' three men at the same time. Daddy is overreacting. I have only seen two, and one of them only once. I don't know where he gets the third one."

  "Go on."

  "Well, you know about Ian. He's just a friend from work. He doesn't work there, but he hangs out at the place we go after work most of the time. We're just friends."

  "Your father said he caught him kissing you?"

  "That's silly. On the hand, yes. But he's English. They do that sort of thing."

  "And what does this Englishman do to make a living?"

  "Mother, it is not like I am planning on marrying him or anything. He's a student of sorts, and he does research about Grantville, and he corresponds with his home."

  "So he has no normal job?"

  "His job is not normal."

  "And this mystery man from the south? The one who has a regular job at the machine shop? Who says his name is Fremd?"

  "Has Daddy been following me?"

  "He heard you went to lunch with him. Is this true?"

  "Yes, Mama. It's true. But we met at a public place, and he just bought me lunch. He wanted to apologize to me for embarrassing me at the machine shop. He's really very sweet."

  "Do you know he's not married, yet cares for three children? Three he 'adopted' after Magdeburg."

  "He told me about it at lunch. He positively dotes on those children."

  "Parents are known to do that now and again." Elsa trailed dry and loving humor through her last remark.

  Ursula finally looked up and smiled. "I have heard that now and again, about parents."

  They both went back to sewing for a while, and Elsa asked another question. This time there was no humor or kindness in her voice. "And the Jew?" Elsa watched her daughter's reaction. She seemed surprised, and yet frightened. Elsa's concern grew. "Your father says that you meet him right after work sometimes, but only for a while. What are you doing with a Jew in a dark alley? I have heard about them, and some of the things they do to good Christian women."

  Her daughter sputtered. "I don't know what you are talking about. I know nothing about this Jew. Why would I do anything with one of them, mother? This is just silly."

  Elsa leaned back in her chair and pushed a strand of graying hair out of her face. She sighed. "So you are not going to tell the truth about the Jew?

  "There's nothing to tell. You and Father are mistaken. So just drop it. Please, just drop it. Next you will have me as one of the emperor's concubines." Ursula stood up. "I will need to be at work soon. Tell Papa to stop following me. I gave him my word I would leave with you, if it came to it again. Isn't that enough?" Her voice started to rise, and Elsa's followed.

  "No, that's not enough! Do not raise your voice to me."

  "Then don't accuse me of meeting Jews in alleys!" She stopped, horrified she had yelled at her mother. She began to cry almost immediately. "I'm sorry, Mama. Please forgive me. Please. It's been hard these last few weeks for me. It's almost over. Please, do not be angry with me. I am a good and faithful daughter. You must understand. Please."

  "But I don't understand. If you're in trouble, then you must talk to us. We can help."

  "No. I can't. You can't. Please. Just leave me alone." With that, Ursula broke down and ran crying from the apartment, leaving Elsa frozen at the kitchen table.

  Later, she spoke to Karol. He paced about the room after she related the story to him. "What's wrong with her? What's she doing
?"

  Karol stopped his pacing. "It's time to move again, away from here. If she's in trouble, then the best thing to do is to run away now, before whatever it is blows up. Gather up the money from the hiding places. We will change it to gold as soon as we get somewhere we can. I'm thinking Amsterdam. The lowlands are prospering with the peace. There are many opportunities. We'll do well, I am sure. We leave as soon as we can close accounts from the bank in the morning."

  Elsa stood resignedly. "Very well. This was such a nice place."

  "I liked it too. But we must survive. And to do so, we must move on. This is why we've no close ties. So we can pick up and move on without any encumbrances."

  "Do we have to Karol? Do we have to leave? Let's wait until we see what happens. How bad can it be?"

  "This isn't open for discussion. We leave tomorrow."

  ***

  "Where's your partner tonight Ursula? She been having too much fun lately? Couldn't make it to work today?"

  "She is just sick, Rolf. And that means more work for me. Let me be, so can do my work."

  "That's too bad." He pouted. "When are you going to make this old man happy? Will you ever say yes to me? A little smile? A quick peck on the cheek? I'm just a harmless old man. Come on, Ursula. When will it ever be?"