Grantville Gazette-Volume XIV

by Eric Flint

  * * *

  Pam walked home from the research institute the next day in good spirits. She had managed to concentrate on her lab work and was now ready to focus on the task ahead of her—no time for unwelcome personal matters. As she came up the walk she found Gerbald sitting on the front porch in a glum slouch.

  "Hey, Gerbald."

  "Hello, Pam." There was a long painful pause as the large man searched for words. "I hope you do not think very badly of me."

  "Of course I don't, Gerbald." Pam sat down on the lip of the concrete porch.

  "You know I would face any that would harm you—and kill them swiftly."

  "I know you would, Gerbald. I know you were a soldier and you are very brave. It's just the bats, right?"

  "Bats." He spoke the word as if it were a curse. Pam waited.

  "When I was a small boy we lived on a farm. The bats, they were in the barn, in the high places. One time I had to go up to where they were to get something for my father . . . I tripped in the dark and fell against them . . . it was much the same as we, but some bit me and I became sick; long time. I was lucky, because I still live." In an age before vaccines the threat of a bat bite was mortal. If not rabies they certainly might carry other dangerous bugs, especially in these times. Pam realized how very incautious she had been and felt all the more foolish. Gerbald was afraid of bats because they had almost killed him once.

  "I understand, Gerbald. I'm the one who should be sorry for dragging you up there, and then acting like a lunatic. I am really sorry. I've just had a lot on my mind and I wasn't thinking straight at all that day."

  "It is not my place, but perhaps the matter of your son?" Gerbald's face was filled with sincere concern.

  Pam fought back the urge to give an angry conversation stopping retort. "Yes. It's been on my mind. We haven't talked in almost a year. He's getting married soon, I don't even know who she is." Gerbald shook his head slowly in understanding.

  "It's something I need to work out, I know. It's just been hard, our whole world has changed."

  "I cannot know how that must be for you, Pam. I try to think; what if I woke up in the time of the Christ? At least there was need for swordsmen in those days . . . What if I went to your future? I, a simple man, would not understand your ways, your sciences. I would be lost. I could only hope to make friends such as you."

  Pam smiled. "Well, if it wasn't for you and Dore, I'd be the lost one."

  This caused Gerbald to blush ever so slightly in the shade of his monstrous hat. He stood up in order to reach into one of his sage green coat's many voluminous pockets. "I've made something for the bats." he announced with pride. He handed Pam a square wooden tube about 4 inches in diameter and just over a foot long. One end had a square of light wire mesh, which was slightly larger than the opening, on a hinge.

  Pam laughed. "You beat me to it! I was going to cobble up something like this myself." Gerbald was very much an expert handyman; his day job included a wide variety of carpentry work. Still, this level of creativity surprised her. Why should it? Gerbald is every bit as smart as any up-timer I've ever met.

  "I spent many years trapping small animals for food—this is not so different. You see how it works?"

  "Yes. We place this through one of their entrances and then seal around it. The bats inside can go out—" She stuck her hand into the device and out through the mesh gate. "—but the bats outside can't come back in!" Her other hand pushed against the closed mesh and then flapped away in bat pantomime. Gerbald nodded, a bit of pride returning.

  "You know, Gerbald, I think you might do just fine up in the twenty-first century!"

  "I do rather like the movies. It would be good to see all of Clint Eastwood's films." His eyes took on a wistful quality. "This is my sword, Clyde." In a hoarse imitation of his Hollywood hero, Gerbald was a clever mimic. "Perhaps I could find work in such movies. It seems they would have need of able fighting men, especially comely ones." He struck a heroic stance.

  "I think you would make a great plumber." Dore had appeared in the front door carrying a plate of cheese and sausage sandwiches. "The American cowboys wear a decent hat. You need not apply." Dore commented coldly as she bestowed a baleful gaze upon Gerbald's constant accoutrement. Dore and Gerbald's exceedingly ridiculous floppy hat were matched in a never-ending battle of wills, with Dore prevailing only at the sanctity of the dinner table.

  "You know, Gerbald, if we made a little opening here—" Pam pointed at a spot in the dirty mustard felt above the misshapen brim. "—our bats could find a cozy new home." Gerbald gave her an injured look.

  "Ha! There is only room for one filthy animal in there!" Dore proclaimed righteously. Accepting defeat with a much maligned roll of the eyes, Gerbald took solace in a sandwich, devouring it in large carnivorous bites.

  * * *

  Neither Dore nor Pam made any comment when Gerbald trooped along behind them carrying his day job's carpentry tools and his one way bat hatch. Arriving at the Baptist Church, Pam dawdled along beside him for a moment to whisper, "You're sure you want to go up there with us? You don't have anything to prove to me, I know you're a brave guy."

  This brought a wan smile from the ex-soldier. "I am all right now, Pam. I can face my childhood fears. With my carpentry skills I can close all the openings much more quickly than you and Dore could. I want to help."

  Pam nodded and gave him a companionable clap on the arm. "Glad to have you as always."

  Pam was pleased to find Crystal at the side door and introduced him to Gerbald who responded with a well-practiced West Virginia drawl and an overly gracious tip of the hat, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am," followed by a movie star quality winning smile.

  Crystal's penny bright eyes widened. "Nice to meet you, too, Mister Gerbil." She turned to Pam who was trying to hide a mischievous grin at the young woman's mispronunciation. "You sure this guy's a down-timer?" Gerbald had stuck his thumbs in the jeans that had replaced breeches in his daily uniform and leaned smiling against the wall as slick as any up-time gambling man.

  "We aren't sure just what he is," Pam replied with false gravity.

  "I can tell you sure what he will not be if he continues such foolishness—alive!" Dore added, with a mighty scowl at her husband's comically flirtatious behavior. Crystal and Pam giggled as Dore gave the grinning Gerbald a firm push toward the stairs.

  * * *

  The evening's work went by quickly. Gerbald, with only a few minor shudders at the remaining bats, closed the openings with the various materials the reverend had managed to scrounge up. He chose a fairly large section of crumbled masonry for his bat escape hatch, widening the opening some so it would fit through and then carefully sealing around it. Meanwhile Pam, Dore and Crystal finished cleaning up the years of bat guano. With the end in sight, they worked fast with little small talk. Ridding the belfry of bats had proven to be a particularly long stinky job; it would be very good to have it over with.

  At last they stopped to survey their accomplishments. The floorboards of the church's attic space were scrubbed clean and shiny as were the walls where they could reach, the years of accumulated junk were organized and arranged neatly, the many openings in the walls had been patched and the guano stench had greatly receded. The few remaining bats that had not gone out to feed were huddled high up in the belfry. Pam figured that within a few days they would find their way out through Gerbald's contraption and never be able to return again.

  "I wonder where they will go?" Pam mused.

  "There's some caves and unused mines around town my aunt told me," Crystal offered. "Maybe they'll hole up in one of those?"

  "That would be a good place for them. You know, I never thought much about bats before. They aren't very well liked but they aren't bad critters by any means. They eat a lot of harmful insects and they pretty much mind their own business. They're even kind of cute in a way."

  "Yeah, kind of . . ." Crystal didn't seem very convinced. Dore declined comment and Gerbald mad
e an eloquently disgusted face at Pam which made Crystal laugh.

  "Let's get the hell out of here!" Crystal said, with feeling. It was almost a race to see who got to the hatchway stairs first.

  It was around eight p.m. as they left the building through the side door. Reverend Green had hung around waiting for them and waved through the window that he would be out to see them off. Gerbald and Dore were occupied with arranging their various cleaning and carpentry implements for the walk home.

  Pam turned to Crystal. "Well, Crystal, it was really nice to meet you. You really helped a lot!"

  "Thanks, Pam. It's good to meet you and your friends, too. You know, I've been wanting to tell you that I think it's really cool that you have close friends who are down-timers. It seems like a lot of up-timers kinda keep them at arm's length. I've made a few really good German friends since I got here and I'm glad I'm not the only one."

  Pam felt strangely pleased at the young woman's approval. Crystal had made a good point; there was still a long way to go before the two populations would really meld into a new America. She had never considered her that her friendship with Dore and Gerbald might be seen as a good example for anyone.

  "Wow, I never really thought of it that way, Crystal. Thank you for saying that, it really makes me feel good. Say, I know we are a bunch of old fogies but why don't you come by for dinner sometime? On Fridays Dore serves up quite a feast and I could use some help chowing it all down!"

  "Sure, that would be fun! If there's food involved you can count on me!"

  Pam smiled, a sense of warmth filling her. It had been a long time since she had felt any connection to a fellow time traveler. Having such a bright young person visit would be really wonderful, she knew that childless Gerbald and Dore would be tickled. "We have a deal then. Do you need us to walk you home?"

  "No, my fiancé will be here any moment to meet me. Hang out a couple and I'll introduce you. Say, you should come to our wedding! I'll make sure you get an invite!"

  Pam heard the side door swing open and the reverend greeting Dore and Gerbald. At the same time a shadow stepped around the red brick corner of the church and came up the walk. The silhouette was very familiar, although maybe an inch taller than she might have expected. Oh my. He's here.

  Pam's son stepped into the light with a rather surprised look on his face.

  "Walt." Pam said in a tone of neutral greeting.

  "Mom." Walt returned the greeting in the same neutral tone.

  "Walt!?" Crystal turned to her betrothed in astonishment.

  "Walt . . ." Gerbald and Dore both murmured at once, having at last set eyes on their friend's always-absent son.

  Crystal looked back at Pam with understanding dawning in her eyes. "Mom?" Her eyes were filled with a sudden wonder.

  "Crystal . . ." Pam said hesitantly, feeling stunned; a storm of questions roiled in the back of her mind but her mouth was unable to shape them into words. Pam watched fearfully for her new found friend to reject her, God only knew what Walt had said about his hard-case pain-in-the-neck of a mother. The side door to the church creaked in the shocked silence and all eyes fell on the man who stood frozen there, obviously caught between entering the situation or fleeing back inside.

  "Reverend Green?" Pam and Crystal said at the same time, sharing a somewhat accusatory tone.

  "Oh, hi! I see everyone has met each other." An unmistakably guilty look was on the reverend's face, which was rapidly changing to worry as everyone stared at him. "Aw, heck. I was just doing my job, folks. If a man of the cloth can't meddle around trying to help folks then what good is he?" Everyone stood in silence for a moment. Walt was making a careful study of the ground.

  Crystal turned to Pam. "Wait here, please Pam!" Crystal implored her.

  Pam nodded shyly in consent. The young woman turned to her fiancé and began shoving him back down the path and around the building's corner. He wasn't that much taller than her and wore the slumped shoulders of someone who knew that resistance was futile.

  As they went, Pam heard Crystal hiss in an audible whisper. "Come here! We are going to talk about your mom!" Pam stood rooted to the ground, so many emotions had hit her at once that they canceled each other out, leaving behind a gray fuzz of confusion.

  Reverend Green approached her cautiously, well aware of Gerbald and Dore's carefully studying this agent provocateur with cold eyes. It was obvious that causing any kind of distress to Pam would be an extremely bad idea with those two around. "Pam, look, I'm sorry if this is terribly awkward for you. I was going to ask you to help with the bats even before the wedding was scheduled. I didn't know at the time you and your son weren't speaking. Then, Crystal asked if she could help and I sent her up to you. I didn't tell either of you who the other was because I thought it would be better for you two to get to know each other on your own before Walt entered the picture. She's such a wonderful young woman, I was sure she could make a bridge between you and your son." The man looked at the ground. "I hope I'm not wrong." Pam nodded her understanding. "It's okay, Al. It's a small town, I couldn't hide forever. You meant well, of course. I'm glad I met her, I really like her, too. I hope—" She didn't finish the sentence, her voice trailing away into silence. She didn't know what she hoped for.

  She looked over to where Gerbald and Dore stood poised to intervene. She gave them a faint smile and tilt of the head. Stand down, you two. I'm all right. Her fierce and faithful friends relaxed somewhat but remained on guard, Dore had her arms crossed with her "I will not have more of this funny business" scowl directed at the meddling reverend while Gerbald decided it would be a fine time to polish his katzbalger.

  Around the corner a vehemently whispered conversation seemed to be winding down. Crystal came back into view with a satisfied look on her face as Walt trailed along behind looking thoroughly chastised. He took his place at her side before the group as Crystal waited for him with a regal bearing.

  "Pam," Crystal announced in clear, sure tones, "Walt has something he wants to say to you. Walt." The last was a command, no mistaking it.

  "Um, Mom . . . I just wanted to say I'm sorry for, uhh, not coming around much . . . lately." He kept his eyes to the ground. Crystal saw this and administered what appeared to be a variation of the Vulcan nerve pinch to his shoulder, which caused him to quickly straighten up and look his mother in the eye. Pam was impressed by the girl's efficient methods.

  Walt's greenish eyes met her gray ones for the first time in many, many months. Pam gazed back steadily.

  "I really am sorry. I was going to invite you to the wedding sooner but I've been, uhh, busy." The young man paused for a long moment until Crystal appeared to be about to apply her special touch to his shoulder again. "Anyway, we would like you to come." A warning look came from Crystal. "I'd like you to come. Please." Pam looked at Walt's somber face and Crystal's earnest one. She swallowed a sigh at the methods and accepted the results graciously. "Sure Walt, I'll come. You've done well to find a great girl like Crystal hon, I'm proud of you." This had the effect of her son giving her a slim but sincere smile. It's a good start. A very good start.

  Crystal launched herself at Pam, clamping onto her in a powerful hug. "Mom!" The girl's grip was tight and full of love.

  Pam's eyes were misting. Oh dammit, I'm going to cry again. She didn't try to stop the flow. Pam whispered into the girl's chamomile scented copper red hair: "I'm glad it's you, Crystal."

  Crystal replied "Me, too! You don't mind if I call you 'Mom,' do you?"

  "No, please do."

  "I lost my real mom in the Ring of Fire. I miss her a lot. She would be glad that I have people like you and Walt in my life."

  "I'm glad, too, honey." After a while the two let go, happy tears wiped on dirty sleeves leaving dusty streaks on two bright faces. Everyone stood quietly for a long moment absorbing what had just come to pass.

  Finally it was Dore who broke the silence. "Time to eat! Everyone will come," Dore announced in her patented "you will not
question me" tones. "I have a dinner ready, there is plenty for all." Dore cast an eye at the reverend who realized to his relief that he had been forgiven now that Pam was happy. "You, too, Pastor. You are welcome. Honor us, please."

  And with that they all trooped off to Pam's house. They ate a bit quietly but a healing had begun and Walt even hugged his mother briefly as he and Crystal left.

  Things are going to be better from now on, Pam told herself as she shut the door behind them.

  * * *

  A few weeks later, Pam sat in a lawn chair in the little park area behind the church where the reception was taking place. It was dusk now and she watched the bats spiraling through the dark purple sky, wheeling and turning in search of insects. Pam saw for the first time how truly graceful the creatures were. They were far more maneuverable than her beloved birds. Watching them move, she realized that they had their own kind of beauty and a deep sense of satisfaction that she had been able to send them on their way with out harm filled her.