“Now,” said Hirshfield as the waiter left them with their drinks, “I propose a toast to the people of our table.”
All hefted their glasses and took a sip.
“Now,” said RW, “what is it that you’ve come up with, Kal?”
“I have done some research and believe that I’ve come up with some items that the people of this planet need. Now, they may not know that they are in need of these items, but then again they have not been gifted as you all have.”’
They all grinned and nodded in agreement of that.
“I have written nine ‘Invention Requests’: one for each of you. My question to you is,” said Kal as he removed an envelope from an inside pocket, “do I hand one to each of you or do you randomly select one out of a hat or perhaps just place them face up on the table and you all get to choose the one that tickles you the most?”
Hirshfield raised his hand and said, “I think you place them face up and we select what tickles us the most.” He looked at the group and asked, “Does anyone want to do it a different way?”
They all shook their heads no and Kal removed the sheets of writing papers and said as he held them close to his chest, “I think we should allow five-minutes before picking one up so everyone gets a few minutes to think over which one they would like and all should be allowed to switch if they so choose. Agree?”
Once again all nodded and watched as Kal placed the papers, face up on the round table. He then took out his pocket watch and said, “Go.”
After five minutes, Kal said, as he snapped his pocket watch closed, “Stop!”
All seemed happy as they reached politely for the sheet of paper they thought best for themselves.
“So,” asked Hirshfield as he folded his and put it in his pocket, “Do we all show our drawings and notes at this same table on the last day of our voyage?”
Once again there were nods all around and they ordered another bottle of wine.
The trip was uneventful and the group became good friends. It was the last night and after having drinks with his tablemates, Kal found himself in his room feeling despondent. At dinner, the group all shared addresses and it hit Kal that he would never be able to do that. He said he was moving from one place to another but would write and send them his new address when he moved in. Now he sat in his cabin facing the truth: he would never see any of his new friends again and it hurt. Bill had touched on this before they left Diamonds and Kal was smart enough to understand what he was going through. “You are going to meet some fine people back there,” Bill had said, “Just remember they’re not dead: you are visiting them as they are going through life. They are as alive as you are.” Kal took a long hot bath that made his eyes water.
Maybe it was the light of day that made it easier for Kal to carry on. At breakfast all were in a happy mood and it was contagious. Because the ship was to dock at 10: 30 a.m. the meal was earlier than usual and lasted one hour and once again it was Hirshfield who suggested a drink in the ship’s lounge and once again they all went.
“Now, said Hirshfield as he raised his glass in a toast, “here’s to the folks at our table. One for all and all for one!” They toasted with a drink and Hirshfield went on as he took a sheet of paper from his inside pocket, “Well, I do believe that we are supposed to show everyone our attempt at being inventive. Shall we?” He passed his to Kal and the others did the same.
Kal went through the drawings and notes knowing in advance that they all would be connected with something that the world would always be able to use. He looked up and said with a shrug, “Clearly there is no winner as all of you have finished your assignments. And although I know nothing about the inner workings of some of these objects, I know that you would not pass something to me that is not workable. Now I suggest that you all share each others works and know that you answered my question of does an inventor need some prodding to invent something or are they inspired by a hint of what is needed.”
“If I may speak for the group,” said Hirshfield, “I believe that when we all saw the items that you thought of for us, it gave us all a ‘eureka moment’ and for that we are all grateful.”
At that, they all stood and toasted him.
It was 10: 30 a.m. when the ship docked at Split, Yugoslavia and Kal was one of the first off. He found out that the train depot was a short walk. He turned down a few carriages for the chance to walk.
The Al cali ferate Transcontinentale station was a bit of a shock to Kal as he had just been here in the year 2012 and the station looked the same then as it did in 1892. He went inside and a dozen people waiting for the train didn’t even glance at him. People here just mind their own business, he thought as he took a seat on one of the long, uncomfortable wooden benches and waited for the train.
Thirty minutes later it pulled into the station and Kal saw that the cars looked more like what a Gypsy caravan would look like as they were gaily painted in bright reds and yellows and even sported tassels along the roof’s edge. The steam engine was small compared to his times and had an open cab for the driver and his assistant who fed the coal to the firebox. The small roof of the cab also sported tassels. The engine had a very long cowcatcher and small wheels. There seemed to be steam coming out of the seams of the boilers but as it didn’t seem to bother the driver and his assistant, Kal shrugged his shoulders and boarded along with the other passengers.
The interior mimicked the exterior with bright red and yellow painted walls. The windows all had pull-down shades that had tassels along the bottom and hanging from the ceiling were two oil lamps that were not lit at the moment. They swung from a hook and as most of the passengers were short it was just Kal who had to watch his head as he walked through. The overhead baggage racks followed the caravan look with thick, yellow and blue cords that formed a basket weave. But it was the seats that made him sit back and relax as they were over-stuffed with soft goose down and all had a headrest also stuffed with the soft material. He relaxed and was surprised to find that he could stretch his legs out straight as they fit easily beneath the seat in front of him. He felt he could sleep comfortably for the ten-hour trip.
The door at the front of his car opened and a conductor came through checking tickets. A short man in a bright blue uniform nodded at Kal and asked, as he punched his ticket, “You are going to Cluj-Napoca, my friend?”
“Yes,” the time traveler answered flawlessly in the conductor’s dialect, “is there a problem there?”
“No,” he answered with a shrug, “it’s just that my wife’s cousin went there and returned telling stories of a giant bat.” He looked with a raised eyebrow and said in a lowered voice, “Do you understand the meaning of a big bat?”
“Vampire?”
The man looked around and said, “Ridership has dropped off as nobody goes there anymore.” He looked at the rifle case in the overhead rack and added, “Perhaps you carry silver bullets?”
Kal smiled and shrugged as he said, “I cannot control what is said, but I have business there.”
“Go with your God, my friend.”
Three hours went by and at a small watering spot an old woman got on and walked into his car. She was carrying a small iron pot with burning coal in it as she constantly turned a few wooden skewers with cut meat and vegetables on them.
Shish-Kabob, Kal thought waving her over. “How much?”
“One coin, sir,” she said passing him a skewer.
He gave her two and she smiled and walked away. Right behind her was another woman carrying a wooden cask and seeing him with the Kabob came to him with a wooden cup.
“One coin, sir,” she said when he asked the price. Kal passed her two coins and she poured a generous amount and held it as he chomped down on the cooked meat before he drank it down and gave her the wooden cup back.
The rest of the trip was stop and go to take on water or let passengers get off until the conductor came through again and said, “Five minutes until Cluj-Napoca, sir.”
; Kal stood and got his valise and rifle, “Thank you. I’ll catch you on the way back.”
“I pray so, sir.”
It was ten thirty-five p.m. when the train stopped. Kal stepped onto the dark wooden train platform and looked around. It seemed that the train moved out faster than it did at the other stations it had stopped at and it didn’t shock him that he was the only person to get off at this station. He hefted his suitcase and rifle and walked towards a tavern, which was one of the few places around to have lights on. He grinned as he thought, Wow! I’ve been to this town twice and here I am again over one hundred years earlier and the buildings all seem to be the same. He opened the tavern’s thick wooden door and it reminded him of an old movie where the main character entered a place and it suddenly went quiet as all turned to see who had entered.
It seemed that every man in the place had a long drooping mustache that was white with age, but had a yellow tint at the tip because of the constant smoking they did, either with a cigarette or pipe. Oil lamps, whose black sooty smoke seemed to rise up and roll along the ceiling, which was black from years of lamp smoke and nicotine, lighted the place. Behind the short, rough-hewn bar stood a big man wearing a leather apron that covered most of his deerskin shirt and pants. He had a small cigar clenched between his yellowed teeth and his brown hair, beard and mustache seemed to be one, as it all joined together allowing just his deep brown eyes to be seen. And his eyes watched as Kal walked to the bar, put down his suitcase and rested his rifle against it.
“Good evening, sir” the big man said.
“Good evening to you too, sir,” answered Kal in the man’s dialect, “Is it possible to rent a room for the night?”
The man did a slow nod and answered, “Yes. And you will be gone tomorrow?”
Kal shrugged, “I believe so.”
“You are a hunter?” the man said tilting his head towards his rifle.
“No, I am a gamekeeper in search of work.”
The voice came from behind Kal, “The only place a gamekeeper might get work in these parts is at the Castle,” The time traveler turned to see a short man in a well-worn suit and string tie. The man’s face almost disappeared in a cloud of smoke from his pipe. “Is that your plan?” he added.
Kal shrugged, “Perhaps. If there is work there I shall gladly take it.”
Once more the bartender spoke up, “Have you any references?”
Kal knew that these men had no power to grant him work at the castle and that their questioning was the norm when a stranger entered the tavern. He had anticipated this and did some research. His grandfather had worked as a gamekeeper in Castle Von Miltsch in central Germany and he intended to capitalize on it and hopefully gain their confidence.
“I worked as a gamekeeper for Count Von Miltsch of Germany.”
The man in the suit became slightly friendlier and said, “As a medical person I had been called to the Count’s side when he had a fever ten years back. A good man who I suggested that he should cut off his long locks of hair, as I do believe it attracted germs that entered his body when he partook his food.”
Gotcha, thought Kal as he remembered stories from his grandfather. “Sir, I am afraid that you speak of a different count as the Count Von Miltsch was a man without hair as was his father and his father’s father.”
The man smiled and nodded as he said in a friendlier voice, “Ah, yes. I seemed to have mixed up my many encounters with the various counts of Europe. Forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive, sir. Please allow me to buy you and the barman a drink.”
The drinks did the trick and the owner said as he poured them, “Sir, do you know of Castle Sergi Custance?”
“Just that they might be needing a gamekeeper.”
“And why, sir, did you leave Castle Von Miltsch?” prodded the doctor as he sipped his beer.
“Civilization! The Count sold off so many parcels of his land to farmers and such that he ran out of forests for his stags to live in or for a gamekeeper to watch over them.”
The doctor raised his mug and said, “Well civilization is not what you will find at Castle Sergi. And I do believe that a gamekeeper is not needed there as nobody from this village would ever trespass on that property.”
“Pray tell, why?” asked Kal genuinely.
“Have you never heard rumors of the castle? People disappearing as well as pets?”
“I know nothing of this. How long has it been going on?”
The barman answered in almost a whisper, “It has been going on for hundreds of years. The story that is most often told is that a group of invading soldiers were camped near the castle and they stumbled across something that the Count wanted kept secret and they all died a horrible death. When they were discovered, they were bloodless.”
“Who lives there now?” asked Kal genuinely curious.
The doctor shrugged his shoulders, “One, maybe two people. Maybe more, nobody knows for sure because nobody goes near the place.”
The barman cut in, “Sir, your room is the first at the top of the stairs.” He passed him an old style iron key. “Please keep the window locked, my friend. But first, do you wish to have some food?”
Kal ate a wooden bowl full of beef and barley in thick gravy with a chunk of dark bread for dipping. He finished and went up the stairs well aware that all watched him. Strangers are far and few between, he thought, and the villagers are a suspicious group.
The room was small and contained a single bed that was overstuffed with goose down making Kal think, There must be lots and lots of geese around these parts. There was an oil lamp on a shelf next to the bed and a small wooden table with a pitcher of water on it and hanging on a peg was a clean towel. The three inside walls were whitewashed plaster while the outside wall showed the exposed logs cut to fit as tight as possible with a thick white plaster that filled the seams between them. A small fireplace was in one corner, but it wasn’t needed this time of the year. Finally, there was a window, made of wavy glass, which was closed and locked. A white linen curtain hung over it and rather than a curtain rod it was secured with tacks at the top. His closet was nothing more than a few wooden pegs in the far wall. The door had a simple latch that locked when dropped in place and Kal spotted the porcelain bedpan peeking out from beneath his bed. He opened the communicator and typed in, HELLO BILL. BACK ON LAND AT CLUJ-NAPOCA. TOMORROW MORNING I TAKE A HIKE TO THE CASTLE AND SEE HOW IT UNFOLDS FOR US. YOU WERE RIGHT, THE PEOPLE ARE SUPERSTITIOUS AND SEE A VAMPIRE IN ANY NEW VISITOR. TALK MORE LATER. ONCE AGAIN, THANKS. THIS IS NOTHING BUT GREAT! KK.
He put the communicator away and in a few minutes was asleep on top of the thick patchwork quilt.
The next morning his alarm woke him at seven a.m. He washed as well as he could and changed into his gamekeeper clothes then went downstairs to a breakfast of oatmeal, brown bread and black coffee, thick enough to stand his wooden spoon in.
The time traveler paid his bill when the same barman said, “Sir, beware once in those mountains.”
“Thank you, I will. Now I have a request of you. Would you be so kind as to hold my suitcase until I return to retrieve it? I shall pay you what you consider a fair price and for all I know I might be back tonight.” The man readily agreed and at Kal’s request cut him a slab of cooked beef and a chunk of bread. He wrapped them in a leather pouch that Kal tied to his belt.
Kal tucked the communicator inside his jacket pocket and stepped out into a bright sunny day carrying his rifle and a ten-inch hunting knife in a sheath attached to his belt. He looked to the northeast to see his destination: the mountain that holds Castle Sergi. Five miles, he thought, I’ll be there in no time.
When he finally stepped into the woods at the foot of the mountain he picked out a young sapling and cut it into a walking stick. It was noon and Kal stopped by a small brook and ate his beef and bread then washed it down with water from the brook. As he sat alone he heard movement around him. He grinned knowing that the average traveler
would be spooked and tell everyone that invisible creatures haunted the mountain because they couldn’t identify deer, raccoons, beaver and other animals that prefer to stay hidden.
It’s funny, Kal thought as he walked through the dense woods, I’ve been here before looking for the same treasure and in my time these trees are just slightly larger. A sudden sound stopped his thinking as he took the rifle off his shoulder and crouched down behind the thick trunk of a tree. Years of staying out in the woods for weeks at a time taught him how and when to hide and the bole of the tree offered him protection from three sides as he faced out of the only open spot with his rifle at the ready. The tall grass moved and shifted about twenty yards from his hide. The grass is no more than five feet high, he thought, and whatever animal it is, is low to the ground. Finally a snort followed by another, higher-pitched snort and more rustling in the grass told him what it was: a family of wild boar, he thought as he watched the movement of the grass fade away.
Kal waited until the sounds of the forest returned to normal before leaving his hideout. This time as he walked he kept his rifle at the ready. He timed his arrival at the castle for the early afternoon so he would have plenty of time to return to the village if he needed to. Moving through the woods almost without any sound was something that was passed down through his family and his being stealthy was rewarded when he came to a clearing and spotted a stag munching on grass. The majestic animal was totally ignorant of being watched by a possible predator and Kal stayed still until the stag drifted away before starting off again.
“You are very good,” said a voice from a patch of bushes. Kal stopped and answered, “As are you.” There was silence and Kal went on without moving. “I am at a disadvantage: you see me yet you hide from me.”
“If one lives in the woods they are never hiding rather they are in their element. You are not from the village, but you had to pass through it to be here, did they not warn you of strange happenings here?”
Book X Page 7