Grantville Gazette, Volume 67

by Bjorn Hasseler

  "Sorry about the wedgie," Scully said breathlessly.

  Red staggered as her foot found a deeper drift. "Oof. Wedgie?"

  Scully giggled. "I'll explain later."

  Ray, pushing his way through the drifted snow between the trees, glanced back over his shoulder. "Nearly there."

  "Yeah. We're right behind you."

  Puffing and stumbling they pushed through the last few drifts and onto a patch of muddy ground. They all stood for a moment, John clinging to the girls and trying to look nonchalant despite the sharp pain radiating from his ankle. "Dark in there," he said.

  "Here." Scully let go of him and rummaged in the satchel she carried with her finding her flint and steel. She and the others hastily prepared a makeshift torch and got it going. She used its light to take a look in the cave. "Looks pretty dry back here. And it's out of the wind."

  "Good." Ray was fidgeting but he nodded and edged back toward the mouth of the cave. "We need to go before we lose the trail back."

  "Go on. We'll be fine." She glanced at John as Red helped him settle on the ground. "Right?"

  "Sure. We'll be fine, love." He forced a big smile and raked his hair back from his eyes, trying to look confident. In reality he was so scared he was nearly shaking. It wasn't just the storm and cold, the thought that he might freeze to death. But he had brought the other three out here. For a game. He could have kicked himself for it if his ankle weren't injured. If anything happened to Ray and the girls…How many times was he going to keep making these kind of mistakes?

  "We'll be back soon," Ray said. "If you have to go out of the cave, don't go very far. It's getting pretty thick out there."

  Scully nodded and waved her hand in a shooing motion. "Go on. And be careful."

  "You too," Red said. She put her arms around Scully in an impulsive hug. "We'll be back as quickly as we can."

  Ray and Red strode out into the swirling snow and quickly disappeared from view.

  Scully pulled her satchel off and set it on the ground. "How about I take a look at that ankle, John?"

  "Finish getting a fire first. Or do you want to freeze to death?" He glared at her, angry that she didn't seem to understand the seriousness of the situation. Scully was an up-timer, yes, but her people had been here a long time now. And they learned quickly, at least most of them, anyway.

  She looked at him, lips pressed tight together and her free hand knotted into a fist. "Right," she said finally. "I think I saw some stuff back here." She stomped back into the deeper part of the cave.

  He braced his hands on the floor and shuffled around, trying to find a spot that wasn't quite as rocky. Then took a deep breath and tried to remind himself that Scully was scared too, even if she wasn't saying so.

  "We're going to be okay," he mumbled. The Monster Society might be a game, but Ray and Red and Scully were all smart and tough. They would get them out of the mess he had made.

  Scully returned with an armful of branches and twigs. "There's some dry wood piled back there. And brush, like grass and leaves and stuff. Almost like a bed." She knelt and swept the dirt off the top of a rock slab, then started laying the wood out for a fire. "Travelers must have stayed here before."

  "Or the yeti." He grimaced, knowing he shouldn't be angry with her, but unable to resist pointing out how stupid they were all being.

  She fixed him with a stare that was colder than the storm outside. "Yetis don't build fires, love."

  He frowned and pulled his homemade trench coat across his chest. "No need to be snippy."

  Scully's lips trembled, but she went back to building the fire without a word.

  John sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "I know. I've been an ass. It's just…this is dangerous."

  "Yes, John. We all know that." She paused for a moment, using the torch to get the fire going. Then she sat back on her heels watching as the fire continued to grow. "But just because we're scared, doesn't mean we'll leave you behind."

  "I'm not scared," he said loudly.

  The deeper part of the cave echoed it back at him. "Scared."

  Scully tilted her head and looked at him. "No, love?" The mockery was clear, and he flushed.

  "Worried, more like. And my ankle hurts." Just saying it brought a prickle of tears to his eyes and he blinked and rubbed the back of his hand across his face.

  "I'll look at it in a moment." She added a few more branches to the fire, crackling fiercely now. "There." Scully stood up and came around the fire, then knelt beside him. "Let's get your boot off and see what's going on."

  "Ow." John gritted his teeth and stared at the rock overhead as Scully slid off his boot. More tears welled up and he blinked them away, hoping the dim light would keep them hidden.

  "Hmm. Seems pretty swollen." Scully rolled his sock down and tugged it free of his toes. "Bruised, too."

  "You don't say?"

  She reached into her satchel and dug around for a moment, then handed him a handkerchief. "Here."

  "What's this for?"

  "So you can dry your…face."

  John flushed. "I'm not crying. I'm not a little kid. I was a soldier once ya know?"

  Scully blinked. That was something she didn't know about John despite of how close they had gotten. She wondered if he was lying but then simply shrugged. "If you say so. You're not that much older than I am, and I'd be bawling if I'd twisted my ankle like this."

  "Well, you're a girl." He swallowed hard as she glared at him, his wounded foot still in her hands. "I mean, thank you."

  She stood up, fists clenched. "I'm going to get some snow to pack around your ankle. See if I can get that swelling to go down some."

  "That's a good idea. Thank you." He had to yell the last words after her as she stomped out of the cave. He leaned back against the cave wall and thumped his fist against the dirt floor in frustration. "Good job, John. Bloody good job." He blew his nose on the handkerchief and rubbed his cheeks dry. "Stop worrying."

  His stomach clenched anyway as he watched the snow drifting past the mouth of the cave, turning Scully's footprints into soft hollows even as he watched. Surely she wouldn't have gone very far. Not in the storm.

  Just as he was starting to think he would have to put his shoe back on and try and hobble after her, she came back in, her scarf bundled in her arms.

  "Natalie." John called her by her real name as his voice cracked with relief. "You were gone so long. I was starting—"

  "I brought some snow for your ankle," she said. She set down the scarf and unwound the ends to reveal a large snowball. "Lift your foot up."

  John put his hands under his knee and lifted his leg up. Scully slid the ball of snow under his foot, broke the top part off with her hands.

  "Put it back down." She packed the extra snow back up around his ankle, then wound the scarf around it. "There."

  John grimaced. "That's cold."

  "It's supposed to be." Scully stood up and went to add more wood to the fire. "I'll get some more wood from the back. Don't want it to burn out while we're waiting."

  "Right." He sat and watched the snow fall until she returned, this time carrying several larger logs as well as more branches.

  "This should last for a while." She laid one of the logs across the side of the fire where it could start to smoulder without smothering the bed of coals that had already formed. Then peeled off her gloves and laid them out so they could dry.

  John frowned. "Your hands look really cold."

  "They are really cold," Scully snapped.

  She glared at him and he realized her eyes were red. She's been crying. "Here." He held out the handkerchief. "You might want this back. "

  She was silent for a moment, but she walked over and sat down beside him. "Thanks." She took the handkerchief and turned it 'til she found a dry spot to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.

  John cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."

  "Okay." Scully tucked her knees up against her chest and held her hands out toward the
fire. Her fingers were white, the knuckles red and blotchy.

  "Let me see." John nodded at her hands.

  She hesitated, then scooted back a little so they were sitting shoulder to shoulder. "My gloves got wet picking up that snow."

  "Yeah." He pulled his own gloves off and wrapped his hands around hers. "You get cold really fast like that."

  Scully sighed and John put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. For a moment they sat, staring at the fire. She leaned her head back against his shoulder. "How's your ankle?"

  "Cold," he said. "But it doesn't hurt quite as much."

  "Good. Maybe the swelling's starting to go down."

  "Yeah." He handed her his gloves. "Just 'til your fingers warm up."

  "Thanks." She slipped them on and snuggled a little closer. "This dirt is hard."

  "And full of rocks." John tugged a small one out from under one hip and tossed it toward the mouth of the cave.

  "John?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm scared," she whispered.

  "I know. Me too." He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "But Ray and Red will be back soon and then we'll all go home."

  "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure." He stared out at the snow, the light beginning to fade between the trees. I'm sure.

  Something moved in the blowing snow. At first, John thought it was his eyes playing tricks on him until Scully said, "John, there's something moving out there."

  Whatever it was, it blended in with the snow perfectly and was almost impossible to see. John could tell it was coming closer to the mouth of the cave though.

  "Scully," John whispered, "Hand me the torch."

  John wanted to be armed and the torch was the only weapon the two of them had at hand.

  Scully passed John the torch she had used to light the fire. It was still burning.

  The white form crept closer to the mouth of the cave.

  "What is that thing?" Scully asked, her voice so low that John barely heard her.

  John's heart was pounding in his chest. Could it really be a yeti? Yetis weren't supposed to be any more real than alien snowmen or magically animated scarecrows. Nonetheless, John shifted where he sat so he could swing the torch if need be.

  "What have we here?" a booming voice echoed off the walls of the cave as a giant of a man, clad in white furs, appeared at its entrance.

  The man's beard and hair were white from age but even so John could see the thickness of the muscles of his arms and legs. The man looked to be a powerhouse of sheer strength.

  "Stay back," John warned, hoisting the torch at him.

  The yeti man laughed. "Boy, this is my home. You better put down that torch before one of us gets hurt."

  John looked over at Scully. She was staring at the giant with wide eyes.

  "Are you a yeti?" Scully asked.

  The man cocked an eyebrow at her. "You mean am I a monster? Some might say so."

  With a sad expression, the big man moved to take the torch roughly out of John's trembling hands. He hurled it out of the cave and then sat down at the fire across from them.

  John and Scully both stared at him, watching him closely.

  "You're from Grantville?" the big man asked.

  John shook his head. "I'm not but she is."

  "I've never met an up-timer before," the big man grinned.

  "And I've never met a yeti before," Scully shot back at him. "Guess that makes us even."

  "Do you have a name?" John asked.

  "That's none of your business boy," the giant growled.

  "Look, we're sorry for intruding in your home," Scully kept her voice calm. "John hurt his ankle and we didn't have anywhere else to go with the storm rolling in."

  The big man looked them over. "Want to tell me what you were doing out here to begin with? No one comes around these parts in winter unless they're fools. I make sure of it."

  "Make sure of it?" John asked.

  "I try to scare them away. I guess they've come to call me this yeti or whatever it was you said."

  "Why?" Scully leaned forward.

  "I like to be alone," the big man said. "The world has changed a great deal since the Ring of Fire brought Grantville here. It changed too much for me. When my wife died, I decided I was done with the world out there and these woods, these hills, here, were enough for me."

  "So you're a hermit?" Scully was suddenly grinning. She turned to John and said, "It's like we're in an episode of Scooby Doo!"

  John's confused look told her that he had no idea what she was talking about.

  "Never mind," Scully sighed. "Just think about it like this. We've just uncovered the truth about the yeti legend in these parts."

  "That you have," the big man said. "The question though is what do I do about it?"

  Scully's excitement quickly changed to fear.

  "I can't have you telling people that I am out here," the big man snarled. "I want to be left alone."

  John seized the moment. "No one would believe us even if we told them. You asked what we were doing out here right? Well, we were battling monsters. We call ourselves the Monster Society and we keep Grantville safe from the things that lay beyond the world of man. We had just finished stopping an invasion of creatures from the stars when I got hurt."

  "It's all just made-up games," Scully added quickly, "Nobody outside of our society even knows it exists. We could get into a lot of trouble if our parents found out."

  "Not to mention the church," John chimed in. "So I think we can make a deal. You keep our secret and we'll keep yours."

  "Why should I believe you?" The big man showed his stained and yellow teeth. "I could just eat you and be done with it."

  "You're bluffing," John called him. "You're just a man like we're just kids. You're not going to eat us. I doubt you'd really hurt us either."

  The big man grunted. "You're sharp, boy. Sharper than you have any right being wearing whatever that thing is you're wearing."

  "It's a trench coat," John snapped defensively.

  "Trust us, sir," Scully pleaded. "You won't regret doing so. The Monster Society keeps its word."

  "It had better," the big man snarled.

  The big man's head jerked towards the mouth of the cave. "Someone's coming."

  "That would be our friends, Red and Ray," Scully explained. "They went to get help."

  "Your word?" the giant demanded again.

  "Our word," John promised.

  "Then get out of my cave before they get here. Meet them out there and keep out of my woods."

  Scully helped John to his feet, pausing only to say "Thank you" before she led John out into the snow. They met Red and Ray not too far from the mouth of the cave. Red and Ray had brought an ox with them along with a makeshift stretcher to haul John home on.

  "Scully!" Red shouted with relief and excitement as she saw them.

  The two of them made John as comfortable as he could be as the ox dragged him along behind it with Ray leading the animal.

  "I'm so glad you guys are okay," Red told Scully.

  "Me too," Scully nodded. "Things got a bit hairy after you left."

  "But we made it through," John said, "The Monster Society always does."

  "Yeah, and who knew yetis were real?" She laughed.

  ****

  The Winter Canvas: A Daniel Block Story by Meriah Crawford and Robert Waters

  Magdeburg

  November 28, 1636

  Daniel von Block sat dangerously close to his fireplace as he read again the devastating letter in his hand. He couldn't believe it…your unethical behavior during the mural competition has brought into question your judgment…Frau Schlosser was pulling her commission because she believed that Daniel had broken the rules by spying on his competitors. Two other patrons had pulled their commissions as well for similar reasons, and now here he sat, in his apartment above his art gallery and studio, watching his dreams flicker away in the hot firelight.

  "I am sorr
y, my love," his wife Sophia said. She sat close to him, nursing their new baby girl, Ursula. "I do not know what to say."

  Daniel shook his head and dropped the letter into the fire. He watched it burn. "There is nothing to be said. My best commissions are gone, and we are low on funds. It is going to be a long, cold winter."

  And perhaps a cold spring and summer as well, for word would surely spread. "Block is untrustworthy. Block is a fool, Block is unethical…" Unethical. He had been called many things in his life, but unethical had never been one of them. The thought of it almost made him cry.

  The year had started with so much promise. He and Sophia and their son Benjamin had travelled to Grantville so that Daniel might study and learn up-time painting techniques. Their time there had been informative and tumultuous for sure, but short-lived. After a few months, they had come to Magdeburg to put down roots and to start a new art gallery and studio, so that Daniel might become an important figure in the ever-growing and changing art world of this new timeline, now becoming heavily influenced by Cubists and Surrealists and Impressionists, and many more.

  Daniel had also hoped to make amends with his son Emanuel for being absent through most of his childhood and for being a poor husband to Emmanuel's mother before she died. But that had ended tragically in Emanuel's death. Because Daniel had saved Gustavus Adolphus and Princess Kristina in the process, he had been honored, ennobled, and given this apartment and studio. By the end of the summer, he was flying high. The commissions were rolling in, so much so that he had to take on students. And then the Magdeburg Arts League hosted a competition, wherein a wall at the new Opera House would be painted with a glorious mural depicting the Ring of Fire and its consequences. Daniel had, of course, entered the competition, but it had all gone terribly wrong from there. And still, all of his efforts to locate his son Adolf had come to nothing–a very expensive nothing, at that.