Grantville Gazette.Volume VII

by Eric Flint

  Fenton secured the last of the ropes. He checked the thirty-eight in the shoulder holster and prepared to climb into the wagon seat. Julio would lead out with his slut daughter and his bastard grandkids. Why the man wanted to drag them along was beyond him. It was just one more reason this trip was beginning to seem like a bad idea.

  They had to face bad weather, days riding on a wagon, and finally starting over in Magdeburg.

  Fenton pulled himself into the seat next to Odetta. He picked up the reins and followed Julio as he led out. Julio had come up with this hare-brained scheme. Hopefully, Julio knew what he was doing. Fenton no longer did.

  Odetta spit a large brown stream of tobacco juice over the side of the wagon. Fenton shook his head. What a choice. Ride next to Angie and her screaming brats or the tobacco chewing human toothpick and her continual spitting.

  It was going to be a long trip.

  Fenton felt unsure about the outcome of their new adventure. What would happen if, for some reason, their plans didn't work out the way they hoped? Was this a new beginning for them, or was it the end of all their hopes and dreams?

  Only time would tell. Farewell, Grantville. It's a nice place to be from.

  ***

  Julio looked around their first night's camp. He had made a mistake in not stopping for the night in the last village. They were camping out in the shell of a hut of some type. This place had not been resettled for some reason. Whatever it was, it gave them some small amount of wall around their wagons and a break against the chill night breeze.

  Already, Fenton had a fire going and Odetta and Angie had found the sleeping bags. With the exception of Fenton's bag, all the sleeping bags had come from him, left over from when Juanita had been healthy. There were four bags in all. There would have been a fifth, but he'd left it for Amy with the other things. The sleeping bags, like everything else that had been part of his life before Juanita's accident, had been thrown into the basement or garage. After the accident, there had never been another weekend of camping. The sleeping bags had been just another painful memory to be buried out of sight.

  The twins screaming for Barbara had gotten on his nerves. They had finally stopped screaming for her by mid-day; but by then old, haunted memories had returned to add to his distraught nerves. Twice he'd started to pass the reins over to Angie and cradle his rifle at the ready as if it had been an M-16.

  People in the villages they rolled through watched them from the sides of roads. It reminded him of riding as co-driver in a deuce with his M-16 pointed out the window while Dinks along the road watched their convoys roll by.

  He had thought that he was getting a good job as a driver or co-driver on the convoys and not having to tramp through jungles and rice paddies of Viet Nam. He had been too young and dumb to realize that "convoy" actually meant "big target." Back then, he'd been a kid right out of Grantville and boot camp. When he'd been in convoy, he had never known who might wave as he drove by and then shoot at him or toss explosives into the deuce when they passed.

  Here, the stares of the people they passed had brought back those old memories. It wasn't a good thing.

  Julio knew they had nothing to fear in their present camp; but old memories were haunting him. He moved out beyond the shadows and squatted, his rifle at the ready. It would be a long night. He would take the first watch-maybe all night long-and let Fenton sleep. He could always switch places with Odetta and sleep in the wagon Fenton drove if he was up all night.

  ***

  Angie made sure the twins were okay and rolled up the sleeping bags. Odetta was busy with a camp pot full of corn meal mush. The old blue speckled coffee pot Papa and Mama had used on camping trips was steaming with hot water. There was no coffee. But there was herbal tea, not the real stuff. There had been no Lipton for ages and coffee was an expensive luxury that none of them drank any longer. It seemed to Angie that with the remaining wealth from the sale of the house and personal junk, Papa could have well afforded it. But the past couple of years of doing without had had its effect. He hadn't even thought to purchase any. Besides, Fenton had brought along four cases of hooch. The last thing he needed was a shot of that right now with his nerves jumping as badly as they were.

  Next Morning

  Angie put the sleeping bags back into the wagon. She had even rolled up Papa's bag. He had been up all night. She hadn't seen him like that since Mama's accident-all wired up and lost somewhere. She had approached him when she'd first woke up and found herself staring down the barrel of his rifle. It was like he didn't recognize her at first.

  She had been afraid he'd shoot her. But he snapped out of it. "Don't you never sneak up behind me on tip toes again!" She wouldn't.

  "Come on, girls. Let's get something to eat." The two just gawked at her. "Come on. Don't make me come get you!"

  Odetta looked at her and chuckled. "Them kids is too young to understand everything like they were already in school or something. They can't even walk all that good yet."

  Odetta set down the brown plastic bowl and spoon she'd been using to have her breakfast and stood up. "I'll get them over here and fed."

  Angie wanted to cuss her out for interfering. After all, the twins were her kids. But she bit back the response. For the last week now, she'd been finding out the twins took a lot of work, and Tiffany hadn't been willing to help her none. In fact, Tiffany had razzed her about having kids and being pregnant again.

  Damn! Why couldn't she have accepted Uncle Sergio and Aunt Janie's help, like John and Amy, instead of deciding that since Papa didn't care and Mama was so bad off, she was old enough to do what she wanted? At least she had listened well enough not to get knocked up while she was still in high school or until the birth control pills ran out.

  She would have blamed Papa and Mama for ruining her life-she did quite often. But she had John and Amy to look at and see that they hadn't turned out like she had. She was the one who had become the town slut in capitol letters. Miss Party Girl. Mama hadn't had that accident just to ruin her life and Papa hadn't just given up on her, though it was easy to blame them for her own actions.

  Angie watched as Odetta put up two more plastic bowls of mush and set out two more plastic spoons. "Don't touch!" The twins looked at her and at the bowls.

  "Hot!" Odetta said.

  "Ooo," the girls responded.

  Feeling bitter, Angie sat down and poured a cup of hot water. She spooned some of the tea into one of the old tea balls Mama had used for her bead work decorations and dunked it into the cup. She hadn't seen one of the cheap metal things in at least twelve years. Like everything else of Mama's, it had just disappeared from the house.

  When the mush had cooled enough for the girls to safely eat, Angie gave each of them a bowl. She ended up cleaning up a mess. She had forgotten the lesson she had been learning during the last week. The twins were really messy eaters and needed help.

  It didn't help for Odetta to laugh at her when she got frustrated. Barbara had always done this for her. She usually wasn't even up this early.

  ***

  Odetta Thorpe was happy. It had been a long time since she'd been on the road-too long. She had forgotten how good it felt to get up, make a quick breakfast, and breath open air.

  It wasn't that she had traveled like this. She'd never before traveled in horse drawn wagons or camped out in burned out barns. But she hadn't always ridden the bus or caught a ride with a trucker, either. There had been times when she had moved on with just a backpack, her accordion, and what she could carry when the urge to move on had hit her.

  It felt good being on the move again. And this was probably the last. She was forty-nine, going on eighty, judging from the stiffness and pain in her joints.

  She enjoyed watching Julio's high-and- mighty daughter struggling to care for her kids. Julio had been right. Angie didn't know jack about taking care of kids. Odetta knew more, and she'd never had any kids of her own.

  Fenton had asked her to take over for him on t
he reins off and on yesterday. She had a feeling that today her practice was going to be put to the test. Julio had been up all night. She had the feeling she would be driving his wagon. If that happened, Fenton would take the lead.

  Julio had been up all night, guarding them while they slept. He would probably crash today. Actually, she liked the idea. She had spent nights on the road, her pocket gun in hand, trying to sleep in places she knew were less than safe when she'd been wandering.

  One thing she had learned very well: never figure you're safe for the night. She'd been lucky not to be Jane Doe on a slab somewhere because of her own carelessness a couple of times. She had a few scars to prove it, too. Some things, like the tattoos, were courtesy of one- or two-year stints in prison for shop lifting; theft; and-once-knifing a guy who had tried to rape her. But that had been when she was young and stupid-younger than Angie even. She'd learned not to get caught at things like that later.

  "Come on, girl," Odetta said. "Get them cleaned up. Your father's coming in to eat. You want him to see what a ditz you are?"

  Odetta smiled when she was rewarded with a scathing glare. Nothing like starting the day right by ticking someone off, especially old Hot Pants' running mate. Those two girls had taken more than one decent man from her over the last two years. Any man who would chase those two wasn't getting a chance to come back to her afterward, either. She did have some standards. Odetta drank the last of her tea, pulled out some tobacco, and crammed it into her cheek.

  It was going to be a longer day today than yesterday had been. A bit of cushioning on the wagon seat would have been welcome. She now wished she had been blessed with a bit more padding on her rear. Maybe Angie would loan her a bit. She had more than enough for both of them. Odetta laughed to herself as she spooned up a bowl of mush for Julio.

  ***

  Fenton was glad when they were allowed to stop for the night again. This time, they had a dry barn in which to spend the night. Odetta had talked the villager in charge into letting them pay for the night's use. Fenton was glad for the dry place to stay. Between the cold drizzle and colder wind gusts that occasionally caught them during the day, it felt good to be under a roof, even if it smelled of livestock and wasn't heated.

  He was also glad that he and Julio had let Odetta come along. She had picked up German palaver pretty well. He knew just enough German to run a stray Kraut out of the Club, if one was foolish enough to stick his head through the door. He now realized he needed to learn German if he planned to get along. And like the villagers who were letting them spend the night in his barn, Germans weren't all bad. They seemed like regular folk.

  He would have been as suspicious as they had been, if a couple of wagons carrying armed people had rolled up in front of his trailer, women folk or no women folk.

  Odetta pulled the thick blocky suitcase she'd loaded from the back of the wagon and opened it.

  Fenton swore. She had a real, honest-to-god, polka-playing squeeze box-a fancy, mother-of-pearl-inlaid red beast. She broke it out, set the straps to her scrawny shoulders, and opened out the accordion.

  Fenton didn't know what impressed him more: that Odetta had something that fancy or that she knew how to play it. He watched her fingers work the keys on one side and the buttons on the other as she opened and closed the bellows. Damn he knew that song-Daisy Polka. He reached inside his coat and broke out his harmonica. Time to join the fun. He hadn't played with anyone for years. Just played in the trailer to entertain himself.

  ***

  Julio watched as Odetta and Fenton started to play their music. It had been ages since he'd been around anyone playing anything. He hadn't touched his git box since Juanita's accident. So long that he probably couldn't play it anymore. Besides, he'd never been into that polka garbage. He was almost tempted to dig out his old hollow box Fender, but decided against it. It would be really embarrassing to mess up Odetta and Fenton's music by adjusting the strings and then not remembering how to play.

  He joined Angie and the twins by the lantern as they listened to Odetta and Fenton start to play another piece. He thought he'd known all about his traveling companions, but apparently not. He hadn't known Odetta spoke decent enough German to be understood, and he hadn't known either of them played any instruments.

  Julio saw that Julie and Juanita were both curled up in a sleeping bag with their heads on Angie's lap. Both girls were sound asleep. He hadn't realized how much they looked like Angie. It was the first time he'd really paid much attention to them. It was even worse that he had pretty much ignored them for almost two years. They had just been Angie's bastards to him, even if they were his grandchildren.

  Julio did something he hadn't done in a long time. He put an arm around Angie's shoulders and gave her a fatherly squeeze. Angie actually smiled at him. They hadn't been this close since… well, since back then. Julio smiled back.

  Odetta started to sing, "Roll out the barrel; We'll have a barrel of fun…" She wasn't half bad.

  Julio looked up to see one of the villagers, with his wife and kids, at the barn door, watching and listening. Probably the first time they'd heard real American music.

  ***

  Julio looked back on the trip from Grantville to Magdeburg. They had finally made it. During the first couple of days, he thought they would kill each other on this trip. Angie with the twins; Odetta with her sarcasm and abrasive comments; and Fenton either predicting gloom and doom or making the Kraut comments he spouted out of habit more than actual belief; and finally, his own flashing back to a time he'd rather forget. All had been irritants and causes for discord in their little group.

  Today, they were turning the horses and wagons over to Herr Knaust, who would see that Herr Bickrodt was notified of their arrival. Apparently, they had an arrangement. These horse and wagons actually belonged to Herr Knaust and were just being returned to him.

  Julio smiled to himself. Well what do you know? A German U-Haul system, horse and wagon style.

  Herr Knaust was going to allow them to store things in one of his buildings, for a price. They needed a place to store nearly everything.

  The idea had been, sell everything, move to Magdeburg, buy a place near the naval base construction, and open a burger flipping place for the sailors and Marines.

  Well, they were here. The problem now was finding a place they could afford. From what Odetta had found out from Herr Knaust, they certainly weren't buying anything with the money they had. But the old German was taken with Odetta. Why? Julio couldn't figure it out. The woman was gross with her anorexic, Ethiopian-famine-victim look. But, Herr Knaust had volunteered to help them find a place they could rent.

  The old stable owner and blacksmith had recommended an inn where they could stay. Julio couldn't decide if Odetta was actually taken with the heavy set, gray bearded man or was just shining him on to get what she wanted. Odetta was much more complicated than she seemed.

  ***

  Odetta had flirted with Georg Knaust for the last three days. The man reminded her of one of the old wrestlers. Not those tall, painted freaks who had been replacing the old wrestlers. He reminded her of men like Ivan Putski or Moondog Mane-big chested, massive armed, and a gut to go with it. His short, gray beard blended into his moustache.

  Georg was a widower. He had lost his wife, children, and grandchildren when Magdeburg had been overrun by one of the German armies fighting in the area. Georg, himself, had nearly lost a leg and had been stabbed three times, according to what he'd told her. He had been left for dead with his family. Odetta could believe it. Georg certainly looked like a tough old buzzard, like a biker she had run with for awhile before the New York State Patrol arrested him for stealing cars.

  The inn they were staying in was slightly rundown. But for having been rebuilt from a burned out shell, it looked pretty good.

  Georg had found them a two-story building that had been an inn before it had been burned. After it had been rebuilt, it had been a warehouse for awhile.

>   She was supposed to meet Georg for dinner in a few hours. He had invited her to his house.

  ***

  Angie studied the three sailors she was sitting with. One was cute. She had sashayed up to them and been invited to sit down. Papa would just blow a gasket if he saw her now. But he was watching the twins while she was supposed to be fetching their lunch.

  That was how she met Josef, Michael, and Veit. Josef was the cute one. He was a petty officer, third class-a supply clerk. Michael and Veit worked with him, but both were only seaman. All three looked good in their uniforms, but Josef was the cutest.

  "If you would like to meet me later," she said to Josef, "I'll be back this evening for awhile. Late that is, as soon as my friend gets back."

  Odetta wouldn't stay long with the old coot she was having dinner with. Old Man Knaust looked like Santa on steroids, with a few scars thrown in for good measure. Even Odetta couldn't see anything in him. She was just buttering the dirty old man up to get his help.

  "Yes, I would like to meet you again," Josef said. "Tonight, then. I'll be here."

  Angie smiled. Magdeburg was going to be fun. She hurried to see if the food was ready to take back to her room. Now to convince Odetta she just had to get out and away from the twins for awhile.

  ***

  Fenton had just come back from the dump Odetta's boyfriend had found for them. It would have to do. All they had to do now was go through the lawyer Knaust had recommended and get the papers drawn up. It was going to take most of their working capital to fix the place up, get the first two month's rent money paid, and stock it. They really hadn't expected rent and leases to be so high. But they were looking at property close to the navy base.