by Eric Flint
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 the 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.
They could turn the upstairs into living quarters and cut down on expenses that way. The main floor was divided into three rooms. One was a large room, big enough for a bar and a dozen tables. There were two smaller rooms, one third the size of the main room. One small room was perfect to set up a stove, the barbeques, and the three ice chests they had brought. The other room could be used as a pantry and prep room.
Fenton figured they could set up the meat grinders and make hamburger in that room, as well as store homemade condiments from Grantville and things like the local mustard. But they had to get ketchup from Grantville if they were going to keep it.
The basement would be a good place to store kegs of beer and the cases of shine they'd brought with them. They only had one case of good stuff. It was more expensive than the stuff from the Five Hollows, but they might actually have a customer who wanted quality.
Julio had sent him to go over the place with a fine-toothed comb. He wasn't sure Julio wouldn't have been better at evaluating the place.
Fenton saw Angie coming from the eatery next to their inn. She sure looked happy. Maybe being away from Grantville was good for her, too. It sure was for him.
* * *
Julio looked at his notes. Things weren't going terribly wrong, but they weren't going like he'd figured a few weeks ago when he'd gotten this wild hair about moving away from Grantville and coming here to start over.
Well, he was starting over. Maybe he would look up an old friend who was supposed to be transferred here and John and Regina. He hadn't seen John for awhile and it was time to meet John's wife, Regina.
Fenton brought him the rough sketches of the warehouse, which was located a few blocks from the naval base. It would do. Julio was letting Fenton handle the actual lease and evaluate the building because, as much as Julio hated to admit it, he really didn't have Fenton's savvy when it came to business.
There was a reason he'd been a window washer, a dish washer, and a cook. He just didn't have a knack for much else. Oh, he'd tried a lot of other things, but he just didn't do very well at any of them. He was a jack of all trades and master of none.
They would establish the Greasy Spoon here, a few blocks away from the naval base; then make sure fliers were handed out at the gates. "Real American Burgers and Fries as well as Beer and Spirits." That should do the trick.
Office of Valentin Sheister, Magdeburg
"No!" Julio shouted at Georg's friend, Valentin Scheister, the lawyer he and Fenton had hired. "We don't have the money to be hiring a bunch of expensive workmen."
Scheister smiled. "I know that with the building boom going on in Magdeburg, labor is getting more expensive. Still, I think I might be able to work out something for you. Just give me a chance and we'll see what can be done."
"Yeah, go ahead. But remember we don't have a fortune to spend." Julio figured he'd better remind Scheister of that.
"I will keep it in mind," Scheister replied. "Also, there is the little matter of payment for arranging the rental and permission to alter the building in question. Will you be paying that soon?"
Julio pulled the leather pouch hanging down inside his pants from his belt and started counting out coins. Things weren't going well. The vast fortune he and Fenton had amassed was not as vast as they'd thought. Things were much more expensive than they'd anticipated and new expenses were turning up every day.
Julio paid the lawyer and headed back to the Greasy Spoon. It looked like the only thing to do now was wait on Scheister and get everyone together for a little music. That was about the only thing turning out good so far. It was funny. Before Juanita's accident, they'd spend time playing music and just plain having fun. It felt good to have it to fall back on again.
The Greasy Spoon, A Week Later
Odetta was installing the second meat grinder on the counter. Julio had insisted that the counters be separated for food preparation. It was going to be rough going without refrigeration. They would have to bring in fresh meat daily or risk poisoning their customers. As it was, she was leery of having to have hired help just to bring in water to cook and clean up the place. They would be using vinegar to sanitize, not a very satisfactory solution to the problem.
Angie was upstairs watching Julie and Juanita. While Odetta could have used her help earlier, the twins would have had to come down her with her. That wouldn't have been a good idea. The two girls could get into anything the minute no one was watching them. It made her glad once again that she'd never had children.
Thinking of children reminded her, she was still playing Russian Roulette with Georg. She might be forty-nine, but her plumbing wasn't totally shut down yet. She had better watch herself or she just might pull an Angie.
At the present, Julio and Fenton were out visiting the leech, Scheister again. Actually, Valentin wasn't all that bad; but every time they turned around, something was coming up that required his help.
Odetta made sure that the wooden waste barrels were in position and that the lids fit securely. She looked around. Everything looked good for the opening next week. The opening had to go off on schedule because Julio said they were getting low on funds. If the funds were low enough for Julio to mention, things were really tight. They needed to get the Greasy Spoon opened and start making money. They had rent coming up in less than a month, as well as other overhead expenses.
Julio refused to touch what he called the "fall back" money—the money they would need to return to Grantville if everything fell apart here. But that wasn't about to happen. Even the oracle of disaster, Fenton, was sure they would succeed now.
Odetta wondered if Georg would leave the stables to one of his underlings and come to listen to them jam tonight. If he did, they could sneak over to his place for a bit of grab and tickle. Maybe a bit more than that.
The guy was really growing on her.
The Greasy Spoon, Grand Opening, One Week Later
Angie looked at her figure. It required a hard look to see the slight bulg
e that was beginning to develop. She adjusted the ankle length dress and was nearly ready to go to work. Veit had promised to bring a bunch of his friend's from the base tonight. She couldn't wait to see him.
Her raven black hair was pulled back into a long ponytail and tied with green ribbon. She applied her lipstick sparingly since she didn't know if she'd ever get another. She applied blue eye shadow and then the eyeliner. She was ready.
The girl they had hired to watch the twins while she worked was busy playing with Julie and Juanita. Angie had already arranged for her to spend the night so that she could have some time with Veit.
It was time to go downstairs. They had hired two extra serving girls and she was in charge. This was the first time Papa was really trusting her with anything important. For once, she was going to make sure she didn't disappoint him.
She moved away from the makeshift vanity and headed for the door.
* * *
Fenton was behind a bar again. This time, though, he had an assistant. The barrels of beer were set up, the tankards were all stacked neatly, and the metal pitchers were ready to go. The only thing they needed now was customers.
