Teleporter (a Hyllis family story #2)

by Dahners, Laurence

  Daum looked like he was about to explode. “We did not…” he began.

  Farley waved a placating hand, “It really doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do. In the court of public opinion you’ve already been convicted. I’m just here to try to keep the peace, and being from a merchant background I’m a believer in negotiated settlements. Now I’ve been worrying that you won’t be able to leave this town to restore our peace. That’s because you won’t be able to get your money back out of your investment here in the tavern. Therefore I’m prepared to offer…”

  Back in the kitchen, Tarc sagged against the wall, sick to his stomach. Farley had offered about a quarter of what Daum and Eva believed the tavern was worth. They hadn’t expected to get full value, but had thought they might get eighty percent. Farley was offering less than Daum had paid for the original building, before they’d added on the stable and kitchen as well as refurbished and remodeled the main building and put in the tubs.

  And if Sheriff Farley was bidding, it seemed unlikely that anyone would bid against him…

  ***

  At lunch in the empty tavern, the talk centered on Farley’s offer and how the Hyllises might separate themselves from the town of Walterston. Daum was still seething with anger over the gall Farley had to offer so little. “I swear to God, I’ll burn the place down before I’ll sell it to him for that price!”

  Eva sighed, “That’d be like shooting yourself in the foot,” She said sadly. “Whatever money we get out of it would be better than none at all.”

  Daum looked like he was chewing nails. “I’ve never liked Farley and I can’t believe the bastard angling to be sheriff! That’s reason enough right there to leave town.” He paused a moment, then said, “ You’re right that burning the tavern down does us more harm than it does Farley, but I’d rather sell it to someone else at even a lower price, than sell it to that son of a bitch.”

  Eva stood and picked up her plate, “Well, if we’re talking about going on the road for a while, I’m going to go down to the market and see what the caravaners actually do there. We’ll need to make a living somehow and I have no idea what kind of stuff they actually sell.”

  Daum’s eyes widened, “You can’t go around town by yourself! I don’t think it’s safe the way people have been acting.”

  Eva shrugged, “It needs to be done. Tarc can go with me if you don’t think it’s safe.”

  Tarc’s stomach turned over. He didn’t want to go out in the town himself, much less as his mother’s guardian.

  Daum said “Tarc can’t protect you!”

  Eva said, “If Tarc can’t protect me, who can? He’s a lot deadlier than you are!”

  Daum stared at her for a moment, then shrugged agreement.

  Tarc didn’t know whether to be proud or dismayed over being characterized as deadly.

  Daussie said, “I’d like to go too. I’ve been thinking that maybe instead of selling things, we could try to sell treatment? We’re healers after all.”

  Eva and Daum both looked at Daussie with surprise. Tarc wasn’t sure whether it was surprise that she was willing to go out into the hostile environment of the town, or surprise over her idea. Eva slowly said, “People go to healers… based on word-of-mouth. It’s hard for me to imagine… that people would go to see a healer in a market like you’re talking about.”

  Daussie shrugged, “I’ll bet that in some places, where they don’t have good healers, people will be desperate. I think they’ll come see us.” She tilted her head, “Besides, after we’ve made a few circuits with the caravan, people will have heard what we can do, so there will be word-of-mouth.”

  Shortly after that, Tarc found himself uncomfortably walking down the road behind Eva and Daussie. Daum had still been unhappy about them leaving, but no one thought they should all go thus leaving the tavern unprotected. It did seem pretty obvious they should try to understand the caravan life a little better before they joined one.

  Tarc found it even more difficult to watch the townsfolk staring at them as they walked toward the market. It had been bad enough when they were staring at him alone, but having them stare at his mother and sister felt much worse. He feared that at any moment someone would say something rude. He didn’t really expect anyone to attack them physically or do something that truly required Tarc to defend their little party. However, if they were physically attacked, at least he would know what to do. If someone started calling them names, he had no idea how he would respond. As he walked along, he wondered whether there was something he could do with his talent that would distract such a person.

  Despite a lot of ugly looks, the three of them made it to the market without being molested. For some reason, Tarc had thought that once they were actually at the market, wandering amongst the caravaner’s stalls, that the townspeople would no longer be a problem. Unfortunately, there were plenty of townspeople there as well, looking at the caravaners’ offerings. They were crowded together enough, that now Tarc could not only feel their stares, but could hear some of their whispers. While wondering if one of the townspeople might do something so ugly he would feel the necessity to respond he suddenly thought, What if I used my talent to push on something inside of them?

  Tarc could hardly spare any attention for observing the caravaners and their practices. Everything he had was focused on the townspeople around him and his mother and sister. Wondering whether someone might actually attack them and whether the women heard what the people were saying about them kept him stretched taut. Eva and Daussie acted as if they were oblivious to what was being said, but their tense spines and the way they looked rigidly straight ahead eventually made him realize that they knew exactly what was going on behind their backs.

  At one point on their single pass through the marketplace, Tarc saw Lizeth off to one side, studying them. Actually he got the feeling that her hooded eyes were mostly on the people around the Hyllises.

  Compared to two other times his mother and sister had gone shopping together, they were headed back to the tavern pretty quickly. Once back, they fell to preparing dinner for the caravaners.

  ***

  That evening, while Tarc was keeping everything stocked up and Eva and Daussie were feeding the caravaners, Daum stayed behind the bar serving beer to those caravaners still waiting for a table. It seemed like all of them were eating there at the tavern, which made him grateful. After all, they could have gone somewhere else for their dinner or cooked it themselves. During a little lull in the beer pouring, Norton called him down to one end of the bar where he stood alone.

  Speaking quietly, Norton said, “I must say, things out there in the town really are pretty ugly towards you and your family. If I didn’t know you better I’d be regretting staying at your place this trip. Even claiming all innocence I’m getting a lot of pressure from the townspeople to move to another establishment.”

  Daum tried to suppress his anger, saying, “If you feel you have to move, I can’t stop you.”

  Norton raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Oh, I’m not moving. No one else in the caravan is thinking about moving either. I’m just letting you know how things are out there, because I’m pretty sure your sources of gossip have dried up.”

  Daum consciously relaxed his jaw. “Thank you. I know you mean well, but it is hard to hear about...” he waved a hand encompassing all their problems.

  Norton grinned, “Yeah, however, I think I’ve got a little good news for you.”

  Thinking that whatever good news Norton had, it would be buried in the tidal wave of bad news his family had been suffering, nonetheless Daum asked, “What’s that?”

  “The Watsons. They’ve been traveling with the caravan for about ten years now. I didn’t know it but apparently they’re looking to settle down somewhere. They heard of your situation and they might be interested in buying the tavern from you.” He lifted an eyebrow, “Of course, if they did that, they’d also need to sell their wagon and its trailer…”


  Daum lifted his head, suddenly interested. “That could be perfect!” He paused, suddenly struck with concern, “Do they have any money saved up? The tavern is worth a lot more than a wagon and trailer.”

  Norton shrugged, “Now there you’ve got me. Caravaners don’t often share their financial situation with one another. We depend on each other for protection, but going around in each other’s back pockets like we do, you don’t really want anyone knowing if you have a lot of surplus cash.” He glanced back over his shoulder, “Watson asked me to talk to you, but it seems to me we’re at the point in this discussion where you and he should start talking directly?”

  Daum nodded, “Sure. But before you call him over, would you mind giving me some idea what a wagon is worth?”

  The two men talked a little longer, Daum bemused to find that a nice large wagon like Watson owned was worth only a little less than the lowball bid Farley had made for the tavern. If they had to take that offer, and then buy their own wagon, they’d really have gained little from all their years in the tavern.

  Norton called Watson over. He proved to be an amiable man in his fifties. Norton’s wife came with him, and Daum wondered whether he should get Eva. But his wife was still trying to get meals out to the rest of the caravaners. Even Daum was still having to break away from the conversation to pour beer for the customers.

  Daum told Watson what he thought the tavern was worth, but acknowledged that he would have a hard time selling it for that value with the situation the way it was in town. Watson said he had some savings. He claimed that almost all of it was in a bank that they visited occasionally on their trips. Daum wondered whether that was true, after all, if he had some gold bullion hidden in a wagon he almost certainly wouldn’t say so.

  The two men agreed that the next morning after the breakfast rush, they would tour the tavern and look over Watson’s wagon so that each would know what the other was offering.

  Once Watson and his wife stepped away, Daum looked around the tavern to see if anything needed doing. To his surprise, he recognized Sergeant Garcia and his family sitting at one of the tables.

  Daum served beer to two more patrons then ducked out from behind the bar and headed over to check in with Garcia. He grabbed an extra stool and sat down next to the Sergeant

  Garcia looked at him and said, “It just ain’t right! I’m sure you know what they’re saying about you around town and I want you to know I’m telling everyone that talks to me that they’ve got it all wrong. But, it just seems like common sense can’t make any headway against the wagging tongues of all those small minded gossips.”

  Since Garcia rarely said much except when he was teaching wall defense at the armory, Daum reflected that that was quite a speech for him. He was happy to know that Garcia was defending his family and wondered whether such a supporter could eventually sway the town’s opinion. However, knowing Garcia’s taciturn nature, he suspected that the man wouldn’t influence very many people. “Thanks for your support. Things have been getting so ugly though, that we’re thinking about leaving town.” He grinned at Garcia, “Know anyone that wants to buy a tavern?”

  Garcia looked dismayed. “No! You can’t leave! You and Tarc practically saved this damn town by yourselves! Don’t let them run you off!”

  Daum shook his head, “It’s pretty hard to want to stay somewhere where everyone seems to hate you.” He glanced around to make sure the bar was okay and then turned back to Garcia. “Say, Farley came around today and claimed he’s the acting sheriff. Is that true?”

  “Apparently. He had a meeting with some of the other merchants and browbeat them into saying he is. I’ve been told that we don’t really have any written rules saying how we’re supposed to select our sheriff. Most sheriffs in the past have apparently just kind of pushed themselves into the position when it came open.” He sighed, “Just like Farley seems to be doing. That’s what they say Sheriff Walter did.”

  “I don’t like the SOB. He came around today and gave me a real lowball bid for the tavern, saying I was going to need to leave town and he was trying to help. Bastard.”

  “You’re not the only one. I talked to him about how we were going to need some funding to get the militia back on its feet after this attack. He told me that since the militia hadn’t been able to prevent this attack, what we need are more deputies and less militia!” Garcia glanced around as if to be sure no one from the town was listening. In a low but ugly voice he said, “I think Farley’s going to gradually gather power to himself, then become a dictator. Maybe not as bad as Krait would’ve been, but not a whole lot better.”

  Daum grimaced, “You may be right. I feel kinda bad about pulling up stakes and leaving you guys here with these kinds of problems. But, I don’t want to stay in this town with the way people have been acting towards us. I feel like my family is at risk…”

  Garcia grunted, “I’d be nervous if I were you too. My family and I’d go with you, but actually, there are a lot of towns that are run badly. Sheriff Walter wasn’t exactly a beacon of enlightenment, but he was better than a lot of them.”

  “Yeah,” Daum sighed, “we might find that the grass is brown everywhere. On the other hand, we’re in the frying pan. Maybe we’ll be able to leap past the fire?”

  Garcia reached out and put his hand on Daum’s shoulder, “I hope so my friend… I hope so.”

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, Daussie woke Tarc up earlier than usual again. “I’m sorry Tarc. During the night, someone…” Daussie said in an extremely embarrassed tone, “They, they went to the bathroom on the porch in front of the tavern! Dad wants it cleaned up before any of the caravaners see it, but Mom needs me helping in the kitchen.”

  And so Tarc has to clean it up, Tarc thought to himself resentfully. He reflected that before this debacle he would have been barking at his sister. Now, though he still resented it, he could control himself from lashing out. Someone had to do it, and he did seem like the logical choice.

  Sure enough, when he got downstairs there were several piles of shit on the porch, as well as wet stains that he assumed were urine. He went back to the stable and got the shovel they used for the horses’ manure. Once he’d scooped it up and taken it to the outhouse, he returned with a couple of buckets of water and a coarse broom.

  Tarc washed the offending areas, then got some soap and another bucket of water and washed the entire porch. After that, it was back to hauling wood and water to the kitchen, the bar, and the big room. Then he started his chores in the stable.

  As the breakfast rush began to slow and the caravaners headed out to the market, Daum called Tarc over. “Sorry about saddling you with cleaning up after those vandals.” He didn’t wait for Tarc to comment, which spared Tarc coming up with a platitude he didn’t really want to give. Instead Daum continued by saying, “I wanted to tell you that we might get a break here. The Watsons there,” Daum nodded at a couple over near the window, “are thinking about leaving the caravan. They might buy the tavern and sell us their big wagon.”

  Daum looked at Tarc, “Last night I talked some of this over with them. This morning, we’re supposed to show them the tavern and they’re supposed to show us through their wagon. Eva and I can’t really take them on a tour of the tavern until things slow down a little more. Now that you’re caught up with your chores, do you think you could start showing them around the tavern? Hopefully, by the time you’ve shown them everything, the rest of the caravaners will be gone and all four of us can go look over the wagon together.”

  Tarc’s eyes widened a little, he’d never done anything like this. “What would I show them?”

  “Walk them around the outside. Point the neighboring businesses out to them while you’re on that tour. Then take them around and show them the stables, bathhouse, cellar, and the insides of every room. Answer all their questions as truthfully as you can.”

  “Even our bedrooms?!”

  Daum grinned at him, “Yep, even our bedro
oms.” He winked. “Maybe you should go up and make sure Daussie made her bed when she got up, huh?" He glanced up towards the door, “Maybe you should also take a quick walk around outside and make sure there wasn’t any other vandalism besides what we found on the porch last night.” He turned serious, “This is important, Tarc, having things look good could make a big difference in the price they’re willing to offer us, so make sure everything looks neat and clean before you take them on their tour.”

  Tarc made a quick circuit around the tavern, glad to see that no one had taken a crap in any other embarrassing places. He quickly swept a few corners of the stable he’d ignored before, then checked the bathhouse to make sure the tubs were clean. He ran upstairs to make his bed and hurriedly straighten his room. When he checked Daussie’s room, it was immaculate with a carefully made bed. He wasn’t sure whether he felt impressed by her room or disgusted by her usual compulsiveness.

  Back downstairs, Tarc approached the Watsons and offered to take them on a circuit of the tavern. They had looked pretty bored, so he wasn’t surprised when they jumped at the chance. Following Daum’s recommendation, he walked them around the outside first. He pointed out neighboring businesses as well as talking about how far it was to the butcher’s and the grocer’s for supplies. He walked them through the courtyard which they were already fairly familiar with since their wagon was parked in it. However he pointed out a few items he thought they might have missed. Then he took them through the stable which they examined closely. Mr. Watson even climbed up into the hayloft for a look around up there. He swung the doors to the stalls and shoveled aside the straw in the stalls to look under it.