Grantville Gazette 37 gg-37

by Коллектив Авторов

  "Herr Garrison, I will take care of that," she said to him.

  "Are you sure Magda? It's no problem."

  "Yes, you have more important things to do." She waved him away from the table.

  She quickly gathered up the untouched food and put it back on the tray. Just as she started for the kitchen, she changed her mind.

  She walked over to where Buddy had returned to his mat and knelt down by the dog. Buddy raised his head in response. She could tell that the confrontation had taken a lot out of him.

  "I know we do not want you to beg for food from the customers, but you have earned this one," she said and placed the uneaten sandwich down in front of the dog.

  As Buddy began to eat the unexpected treat, Magda gently patted his head. "You are a good dog."

  Spring 1633

  Louis was startled when Johannes came bursting into the store, breathless from running.

  The teenager panted heavily as he spoke. "Herr Garrison, come quick! Something is wrong with Buddy."

  "What is it, Johannes?"

  "I was walking Buddy at the park and he lay down by a tree. He won't get up, Herr Garrison!"

  Louis flashed a worried look at Andreas.

  "Go!" his partner ordered.

  Louis grabbed Johannes by the shoulder. "Show me!"

  The boy nodded and the two of them ran from the store to the park as quickly as they could.

  "Over there!" Johannes panted.

  Louis looked where the boy pointed and saw Buddy lying by the tree. He quickly rushed over and knelt by the dog. "Buddy, what is it?"

  The dog carefully raised its head with a painful expression, but didn't get up.

  "Oh God, Buddy!" He carefully scooped up the dog and began to run. The veterinarian was several blocks away, but Louis carried Buddy at a full run the entire distance.

  ****

  Louis gently stroked Buddy as the dog lay silently on the examination table. The veterinarian had just told him that nothing more could be done for Buddy and that it was only a matter of time before the dog died. Buddy was in a lot of pain and it wouldn't get any better.

  Louis knew that it was time for Buddy to go. "We've been through a lot together, haven't we, Buddy? You helped me raise my kids and get them off to college, took trips with me.

  He chuckled sadly. "Who would have thought that the two of us would take the most amazing trip of all together, a trip through time?

  "We had to start a new life together, a new home, a new job; and you were right there with me every step of the way. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here.

  "But it's time for you to go, isn't it, old friend?"

  He looked up at the veterinarian and nodded that he was ready.

  The vet brought the syringe over to the table and gently injected its contents into Buddy. As the injection took affect, Buddy's breathing slowed and finally stopped. The dog's eyes closed, never to open again.

  "Goodbye, Buddy," Louis choked out quietly.

  ****

  Andreas walked into the veterinarian's office and found Johannes sitting there.

  "Herr Garrison is in there," Johannes quickly told him, pointing to the door.

  "Thank you, Johannes. Have you been here all this time?"

  "Yes, Herr Muller. I did not want to leave them."

  "Go home, Johannes, you have studying to do."

  "But Buddy and Herr Garrison!" Johannes protested.

  "I will look after Herr Garrison. Stop by the restaurant on your way home; Magda has some sandwiches prepared for you."

  "Yes, Herr Muller," the boy said and hurried out the door.

  Andreas walked through the door that Johannes had shown him. Inside he found Louis tightly clenching Buddy on the table, his face buried in the dog's side. He hated to interrupt. "Louis?"

  Louis looked up at Andreas; his eyes were red and his cheeks were wet with tears. He looked sadly at the dog's body on the table. "I had to let him go, Andreas."

  "He was old and in pain; it was a kindness to let him go."

  "He was the last I had."

  "The last what, Louis?"

  "My last link to my old life!" Louis choked out and buried his face in his hands. "I'm completely alone now."

  Andreas quickly pulled up a chair and sat beside Louis. He put his arm around his friend's shoulders. "I know you were close to him, Louis. Our animal friends can come to feel like one of the family. But you are wrong, my friend. You are not alone."

  "But they're all gone now, all of them. Tina, the kids, and now Buddy. Everything I knew and loved is gone."

  "And I say again, Louis, you are not alone. Buddy saw to that."

  Louis looked up, confusion on his face. "What do you mean?"

  "Buddy was how old, fifteen?" When Louis nodded, he continued. "That is a long life for a dog, Louis. He has had sore joints and could not walk well for the last two years. Even the veterinarian didn't know why he held on for so long, but I think I know."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Buddy was looking after you. He couldn't leave until he knew you would be okay. He had to wait until you had a new family."

  "But my family is all gone. Buddy was the last I had."

  "Your old family is gone, Louis, and I will help you mourn them. But you have a new family now: Magda, Veronika, Johannes, all of them. And you have me, Louis. I heard one of you up-timers say that friends are family that you choose. Louis, I am your friend and your brother. Buddy's final act was to make sure you had a new family so that you weren't alone."

  Louis looked up at Buddy again. For several long moments he stared at the dog before speaking again. "Will you help me bury him, Andreas?"

  "It would be my honor to help you lay your friend to rest, Louis."

  ****

  Louis looked up when he heard the knock on his office door.

  Veronika stood there, looking unsure. "Herr Garrison, I am so sorry about Buddy. We all loved him; he was one of us and will be missed."

  "Thank you, Veronika."

  She pulled something into view. "I made this for you."

  Louis took the large square object from her and looked at it. It was a framed sketch, one that Veronika had drawn of Buddy sleeping by the window. On one side a verse was written. He could feel the tears forming in his eyes. "Thank you."

  "A friend from school gave me the verse when I told her about Buddy. She said it brought her comfort when she lost her pet."

  Louis glanced at the words. "I'm familiar with it, Veronika. Please, thank your friend for me."

  Veronika nodded and started to turn away. She quickly turned back and wrapped her arms around Louis in a hug. "I'm going to miss him."

  Louis held her tight and let his tears fall. "We all are, Ronnie."

  Veronika released her hug and quickly left the office. Louis could see she was wiping away tears. He looked down at the picture and read the words of the poem silently.

  The Rainbow Bridge

  Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

  When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

  All the animals that had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

  They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

  You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in j
oyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

  Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together. . . .

  Author unknown . . .

  Andreas watched as Louis hung the picture on the wall next to where Buddy's sleeping mat had been.

  Louis stepped back and looked at the picture. "Do you think it could be true, Andreas?"

  Andreas looked over the words of the poem. "I don't know, Louis. I am not a theologian, but I cannot believe that God would forever separate us from those who bring us so much happiness and love."

  Louis nodded towards the window. "It looks like the storm is over."

  Andreas looked outside. The thunderstorm had passed and the last of the rain was dripping down the window. The cloud front was passing to the east and the afternoon sun was coming out. In the eastern sky a bright rainbow was forming.

  ****

  This story is dedicated to all those who have friends waiting for them by the rainbow bridge and was written in memory of the friends who wait.

  ****

  The Society of Saint Philip of the Screwdriver

  Rick Boatright

  Then the LORD God said, "Behold, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil; and now, lest he put forth his hand and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever" -- therefore the LORD God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from which he was taken. He drove out the man; and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to guard the way to the tree of life.

  Genesis 3:22-24

  Mankind had its chance to have a life without surprises, but chose the harder path-to be like God. Now, we get to deal with the complexities of the world, and with the embodiment of that complexity, the imp that is the personification of Murphy's Law.

  Murphy's imp never gives you any warning before things fall apart. You have to be ready. You have to think about failure in advance and prepare for it.

  In the long run, ready never works out. No matter what you do, the imp always finds a way.

  The Charter and By-Laws of the

  Society of Saint Philip of the Screwdriver

  Father Nicholas Smithson

  Grantville, September, 1635

  "Yuck. Six in the morning is too early for real life." Doris McIntire had just reached the main reference desk at the front of the SoTF State Library. She had the early shift this Wednesday, opening the library after the weekly closure for cleaning. Always a relief, Wednesday, she thought. The place got a bit rank between the thorough cleanings, but what could you do? The library was the best resource in the world.

  But something was wrong. She looked over at the un-manned guard station by the door, and through the barred glass into the front hallway of the still empty high school. She did not see the guards who should come and open the doors. "Where the heck are the guards?"

  Suddenly, a shape blurred past the window and the door banged open. A dirty, wild-haired man carrying a large bag burst in shouting unintelligibly. He looked from side to side, apparently seeking something. When his gaze settled on the ready reference shelves, he reared back, swinging the bag. The bag gurgled loudly.

  There was no time to think, no time to call for help. Doris did the only thing she could do, the thing she had trained for month after month. She reached down to the holster under the reference desk, pulled the .38 revolver that was always there, and put three rounds in the wild man's center of mass. Then she ran around the end of the desk, grabbed the bag and flung it out through the open door down the wide hallway toward the front door of the high school. As it hit the metal doors it burst into flame.

  ****

  "Oh, und here we go again," Maria Baumain said, grinning at Brother Bernard. "I'm making a cappuccino for a Capuchin, just like I do every morning!" She started steaming the milk, and grinned at the monk.

  "Ja, und I'll have to go find you a real Capu-" Brother Bernard started to say.

  God's own whistle tore into the ears of everyone in the shop. Maria screamed and dropped to the floor, clutching the side of her face. Some of the customers screamed even louder. Some reached for weapons. Some ran towards the injured girl and others ran away.

  Cora was only steps away. She grabbed a bar towel to press onto Maria's cheek to stem the bleeding from the hole created by the impact from the steaming wand. Maria kept screaming at the pain from that and the burns over half her face. Then, as the whistle died down, the smell of hot metal wafted across the room. After a few moments of searching, the espresso maker's power was cut off. It made a "tinking" sound as it started to cool.

  "Get me a bowl of ice water!" Cora called out. "Maria's scalded. We need to get it cooled down. Somebody call the ambulance."

  "Already on the way," someone replied.

  Cora got a cold compress over about half Maria's face, while still holding pressure on the cut. This wasn't going to be good.

  ****

  Father Nicholas Smithson read the letter for the third time. It was unlikely that the content would change, but he felt that he had been waiting for a long time for this news. He looked across the table at his friend, Father Augustus Heinzerling, and smiled.

  "That's it then?" Augustus asked.

  "You would think, with the Pope taken out of Rome, with the influence of Lawrence, Cardinal Mazzare, with the general hue and cry going on, that for a single simple priest to be released from his vows to the Society of Jesus and to enter the secular clergy would be a simple matter," Father Nicholas said.

  "Simple? Ha! Where the pope is, the inquisition is. Someone must determine if it is in the best interest of the church for the author of one of the best-selling books in Europe to be released from his personal vows of loyalty to the pope," August replied. "And as I think about it, I'm surprised the inquisition hasn't asked about How Not To Think Like a Redneck yet. Not to mention Saint Philip."

  "Ignore him, Nicholas. He's just jealous," Father Christopher Schreiner said. "What does the letter say?"

  Nick reached up to his breast pocket and removed the little yellow screwdriver he wore there. There was a similar one in Christopher's pocket. He twirled the screwdriver back and forth in his fingers. "Apparently my request got through during the confusion following the pope leaving Rome. It's yes. I am now officially a member of the secular clergy, reporting only to the bishop of my diocese, who is, of course, Larry. I am not sure how it got done without Father Vitelleschi's approval." Nick smiled. "But in any event, it's done."

  "And so?" Augustus asked.

  "And so, in the absence of white-robed Dominican inquisitors knocking at our door accusing me of Manichaeism, and with Cardinal-Protector Mazzare's permission to use Saint Philip Neri's name and image as the personification of the group, I think it's time," Nick said. "You both have read the bylaws for the Society of Saint Philip of the Screwdriver, as have Father Kircher, Cardinal Larry and John Grover."

  The other two priests nodded and smiled.

  "This is Grantville, not Rome. We're forming a society, not a prayer group, so it's not the Grantville Oratory." Nick paused. "I still wonder if Larry was wrong, and we would have been better off with Saint Vidicon, but never mind." Nick waved his hand pushing the thought away. "Never mind. It's too late to re-think that. It's time to move from the casual group to what we've talked about, and this release gives me the freedom to do that."

  Nick took a moment to reflect. "You both know my dilemma."

  "No one doubts your priestly vocation, Nicholas," Father Christopher said. "But your skills in the library do more than just bring in funds. You are contributing to the growth of a new culture."

  "Then I have a duty to try to see to it that it's a human culture, not just a technological one. What use is wealth to a priest? And, despite our joking about the inquisitors, it can't
be a purely Catholic culture, or a Catholic institution. Too many others are part of this community," Nick said.

  "So, we get the minds together, we crush Murphy's imp, and you buy the beer. It works for me," Augustus said. "Speaking of beer, why don't we go celebrate your release? I understand there's a new lager at the Gardens." He pushed back from the table.

  Nick smiled. "Of course, Augustus. And I'm sure that I'm buying."

  ****

  Doris sat in the staff room of the State Library with her hands wrapped around a cup of some herbal tea Charlotte Kovar had handed to her. "Do we have any idea who he was?"

  "No," Chelsea Perkins, the head of security for the library replied. "No note. The police will ask, but I doubt he's been around town. I suspect he came straight here."

  "What do we do now?" Charlotte asked.

  "I clean and re-load the revolver. You take Doris home to rest and you go with her to see to it she does," Chelsea said. "All her family is out of town. Then, I go bang some heads in the guard room. I'll have to be ready for another attack, just like always. Doris, I'll need to go to the meeting tomorrow with you."

  "Do we have to?" Doris asked, looking up.

  "You helped write the policy. We go to the meeting, and you get counseling, need it or not," Chelsea said. "It's necessary."

  "I suppose," Doris said. "But I'm going home now, and I'm going out the back door."

  ****

  Cora sat in the waiting area outside the ER at Leahy Center waiting to hear from the doctors. Every time someone moved, she looked up. She sat there, staring at the blood-stained towel in her hands, doing nothing.

  "Aunt Cora?" Nina Kindred burst through the doors into the waiting area. "Aunt Cora? Are you okay?"

  Cora looked up. "Okay?"

  "Are you okay? You've got blood all over you. I'm going to go get someone."

  "No, no. It's not my blood, it's Maria's."

  "Oh, thank God," Nina said. "Paul told me that there had been an explosion in the coffee shop, and that you had gone to the hospital, and . . ."

  "Hush." Cora put her hand over Nina's. "You're not here for the paper, are you?"