Grantville Gazette, Volume 72

by Bjorn Hasseler

  Chapter Eight

  "Life is short. Dame Evolution is brutal,"–John Roberts

  They arrived home after dark a day later than intended, delayed by fussy medical technicians and doctors. Fritz felt the welcoming shores of home keenly. An iceberg of emotion drew him floundering in its wake; bittersweet torture barely touched the tip of it. To gain a mother and lose her so soon wasn't fair! He wanted to stamp his foot like a five-year-old. "You've got to go back!" They'd whittled the argument down to a few words.

  "No."

  "But—"

  "I've had my life. I refuse to die in a hospital."

  Fritz bit his lip. Maybe the concoction of drugs and hormones were having an undue early influence. Ella stopped at the kitchen door and turned to face him. "I'll have no talk of this around others. I don't want to spend my last few months saying good-bye." Before Fritz could marshal a response, she added with considerable aggravation, "Do like I tell you! I know what's best! I'm your mother!" Trite and true and ridiculously cliché. "I've always wanted to say that!" Ella put a hand to her mouth to hide an embarrassed smile. But the remark shattered Fritz's iceberg, chunks calved off to float away in every direction, leaving him buoyant, freeing him from overwhelming inertia. He snickered. So did Ella.

  They embraced fiercely, laughing and crying together, awash in raw emotion. But such a moment cannot be sustained. It peaked and settled, and the argument settled with them, seemingly resolved. They pulled apart, pulled themselves together, and by unvoiced consent turned to their other great worry, the one the argument distracted them from. Did Bru and Van Meer get pigeoned, or did something else happen? Were they safe and unharmed? Fritz opened the door.

  Bette sat at the kitchen table. Ella's lips thinned in anger. "What are you doing here?"

  "I got here yesterday, just in time to help haul Van Meer inside."

  "Van Meer? Here? Is he alright?"

  "An accident with an axe. Bru says, "He'll do if he minds." She mimicked Bru's matter-of-fact speech perfectly. "He's in the sunroom with Bru. A very capable woman. Charming. And such a lovely smile."

  "Bru? Smiling? Our Bru?" Ella exchanged an amazed glance with Fritz.

  "I've become acquainted with Frosty and Rex too. Mrs. Roberts, you surround yourself with the most remarkable people." She looked at Fritz again who stood there lamely, clearly poleaxed.

  "Frosty? Little Leisl? She's here, too?" Ella sat down, absorbing the fact that Rex was included as people. It eased her anger at Bette's intrusion. "What's Frosty doing here?"

  "She's probably peeking through the door at Van Meer. An incurably curious child. Bru is babysitting. Her parents have a crisis at home. Toads, I'm told. Lots and lots of toads."

  Sky toads. Ella's thought's jinked sideways. She gathered them up again. "Why are you here?" she pressed.

  "I came looking for clues, and to help. To forewarn. I think passenger pigeons are a precursor. The main biomass transfer event is yet to come."

  "Oh." Ella settled heavily onto a chair.

  "Have you seen these?" Bette pushed a collection of Van Meer's drawings across the table to Ella. Fritz looked over her shoulder. There was Bru, surrounded by rabbits. The second portrayed two passenger pigeons. The third showed a flight of pigeons much like Fritz and Bette had seen from the window of the lab. Ella swallowed back tears when she saw the next; a double portrait, herself holding hands with John, and him with that idiot smile on his face. "Impossible. By what miracle does he know John's likeness?"

  "Miracles are by definition impossible, something beyond the laws of physics," Bette answered softly, "I'm a scientist, but I have the heart of a little girl. I believe God sends angels to guide us, especially in times of crisis. Your Van Meer is evidentially such a one. An avatar. An angel."

  A map of an island, with illuminated letters and fanciful drawings, decorated the last piece of paper. Ella did not recognize the island and could not place the language.

  "I know two things," Bette spoke with an intensity that made both Ella and Fritz lean in. " You need me to help with the timing of Van Meer's predictions. And—" She sent Fritz a look that wobbled his knees. "—I believe in love at first sight."

  Oh hell, Ella thought, studying the two. Moon-eyed love-struck puppies. Looks like I'm going back to the hospital. Ella was terrified of surgery, mortally terrified; she'd rather die than go under the knife. But she'd return to the hospital. These two youngsters were going to need her. And who knows? She always wanted grandchildren. She took off her coat and asked for tea.

  Bru entered the kitchen trailed by Frosty and Rex. Ella's weariness, the result of her illness and probably the source of her fatalism, was overcome by inexpressible happiness. She spoke the words she had been unwilling to share with Charles, John's epilogue, said out loud for the pleasure of hearing it, for the wisdom of the next generation, and to create new memories from old. After the words of endearment, after the final words of hope and regret, John said; "Life is short. Dame evolution is ruthless. Hazard the pain, my heart. In other words, get your thumb out your butt and get happy!" Ella smiled, saying it, and was surrounded by smiles. She glanced at the map. "Oh, no. Oh dear God." She pushed the drawing across to Bette. "That is not an island. That is the supercontinent Pangaea. What do you think the words in that blank area say?"

  "Traditionally an unexplored region would be marked with the expression of—oh, no. Surely not. They're mythological!"

  "So I always thought. Fantasy."

  "What?"

  Every pair of eyes turned to Ella. "So far, Van Meer's predictions have been perfect. His portraits too, and nature sketches, I'd have to call miraculous in every sense of the word. Now he's given us a map. And right there," she said, stabbing a finger at the paper, "It says, 'Here there be dragons.' "

  Ella looked about the warm cozy kitchen at the people she loved, thinking of John's wisdom. "Memories are all you ever make." Bru and Fritz, Bette, who Ella barely knew and already loved, and Frosty and Rex and Van Meer. They represented all the people through all the years that made up Ella's life, condensed in memory and crammed into this little kitchen. Ella's eyes welled with what her heart could not contain. Whatever happened next, they were in it together. Here there be dragons indeed.

  Ella stood up. "I think," she said, "It's time to take Van Meer some paper."

  ****