by Chuck Thompson
Grantville
Fall, 1631
Robert Butcher squinted at the needle and tried to thread it again. Another miss. He blew out a held breath and tossed the needle and thread onto the table. Sewing was not his thing. That was Deanna’s department. But the cancer had taken her a few years ago. Robert stretched upwards and twisted his back left and right, hoping to get the stiffness out. His Brittany Spaniel, Belle, shifted her gaze between Robert and her favorite toy on his lap. A bright pink elephant. Or what was left of it anyway. It looked more like a pink amoeba now.
“Damn it, Belle. There ain’t hardly enough to sew back up, and this here thread is possessed by a contrary spirit.”
Belle danced a bit on her front feet and cocked her head.
“All right, all right. Let me warm up my tea, and I’ll give it another go.” Robert stood up, stretched his back again, and picked up his mug.
Belle suddenly looked over her shoulder toward the front of the house. After seeming to listen a moment, she ran to the front door, claws skittering on the hardwood floor. Robert walked to her and peered out the window. The late afternoon sun threw shafts of amber light between the tall pines. He couldn’t see anyone, but opened the door anyway. Belle shot out and sprinted down the dirt driveway, whining with excitement as she went.
Robert sat down on a porch rocker and waited. As he expected, people eventually came into sight. He thought it would be that busybody Willie Ray from the farm committee, or whatever they called it. Instead, it was Kathryn Riddle and, by the looks of him, a young down-timer. Kathryn smiled and waved as they approached. His initial annoyance melted. A visit from a pretty girl was seldom a bad thing. Well, Kathryn, past fifty, was no longer a girl, but she was still quite pretty. He harbored no illusions she might think the same of him. At 72, he was a good fifteen years past the time anyone but his wife Deanna had thought him handsome. Deanna gave him a poke in the rib every time his eye roved. He wondered, nearly all their life together, how she always caught him. Not long before she died, she told him the secret. Well, Bob, I just poked you every time a pretty girl was around. He shook his head and brought his mind back to the present. Kathryn had just reached the walk leading to the door. She spoke to the young man and he stopped on the road while Kathryn continued to come toward him. Belle had a stick and was trying to entice the fellow to chase her.
“Hello, Mr. Butcher. How are you?”
“Oh. Do me a favor and call me Robert. Makes me feel a bit younger.”
Kathryn smiled. “All right. I suppose I’m old enough.” She sniffed and looked at his mug. “Is that tea? You have tea? I ran out months ago.”
“Ah. Well, it’s a bit of a secret but, if you care to come in, I’d be happy to brew you a mug.”
“That would be lovely. Can I introduce you—”
Robert held up his hand to cut her off. “Let me guess. I can tell by looking at that fella that he’s a farmer. I can practically smell the dirt in his veins. So, I figure this is some new ploy by Willie Ray to wrangle what he wants out of me.”
Kathryn paused and bit her lip. “Well, I won’t deny that Willie Ray suggested Eitel come up here. I met him at the refugee center doing some Red Cross work. He’s a very nice young man with a big problem, and I think you should hear him out.”
Robert waved his hand. “I don’t think so, but I’ll hear from you if you want. He can stay out here and keep Belle company. Come on in.”
Kathryn made to come up the front steps, and Robert reached to grab her elbow to help her up. He stopped mid-motion. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to get handsy. I, uh . . . Deanna was pretty unsteady toward the end. Habit.”
Kathryn smiled again. “I understand. It’s perfectly all right. I remember the funeral. Three years ago, wasn’t it? So many people had nice things to say.” Kathryn touched Robert on the arm. Kathryn turned to Eitel and gestured that he should wait.
Robert looked that way too. “Belle. Dinner time.”
Belle didn’t even look back. She was lying on her back getting a good belly rub.
Kathryn put her hair behind her ear as she watched. “Well. Belle certainly doesn’t seem to mind meeting Eitel.”
“Hmph. Brittanys in general, and that one in particular, are poor judges of character. She’d moon over a serial killer if he threw a stick for her. Worst guard dog ever.”
Kathryn laughed. “Okay. But you aren’t fooling me with the gruff act.”
Robert led her to the kitchen and put his mug, and another, into the microwave and turned the dial. He then opened an old coffee can and scooped some of its contents into a little ball-shaped infuser.
Kathryn sat at the kitchen table. “So how do you still have tea when the whole town is out?”
“Well. I’ll tell you but I’ll need your promise to keep it a secret. I don’t want every biddy in Grantville running up my hill asking for tea.” He paused and looked at Kathryn.
“Oh. You’re serious.” She cleared her throat, sat up straight, and, with a flourish, put her hand over her heart. “I swear to keep the secret of the tea—whatever it is.”
The microwave dinged, and Robert pulled out the steaming mugs. He put his down on the table and put the little infuser ball into her mug and handed it to her.
“Let it seep a little longer than regular tea.”
“It’s not regular tea?” Kathryn leaned over the mug and drew in the fragrance. “Smells like it.”
“Here’s the secret. It’s from the yaupon holly bush. Some call it Indian tea. Yaupon doesn’t grow here naturally but my mother got some bushes from her family in the Carolinas. That woman was tight with money. Could pinch a penny so hard it’d scream. And didn’t buy anything she didn’t have to, including tea. It has a nice caffeine kick. I think it’s the only North American plant that does. And, I have to warn you, it’s uh, let’s say . . . good for the digestion.”
Kathryn laughed. “I’ll risk it. Smells heavenly.”
“Alright. Now your turn. Does this visit have something to do with the bit of farm machinery I have out back that Willie has been on me about?”
Kathryn took a sip of her tea. “Umm. This is really good. Like a nice black tea.”
Robert smiled back but said nothing.
Kathryn looked up from her mug. “Okay. I don’t know much about harvesting, but Willie Ray says you have a horse-drawn machine you used to take to fairs, and it can cut and lay out wheat and such and would be invaluable. We need to get in all the food we can.”
Robert tapped his finger on the side of his mug a few times. “Yeah. It’s called a McCormick Daisy Reaper. But it don’t belong to me. It’s Lester Hinshaw’s, and he said you can’t have it. I can’t say I blame Lester for being contrary about it, seeing as y’all got him locked in the Bowers Home against his will.”
“Robert. I looked into that. It’s like Willie Ray told you. Lester is there under a court order after he shot at someone fishing in his pond. And when the deputies went out there, it was clear he wasn’t taking care of himself.”
“Pfft. A court that don’t exist anymore. He didn’t shoot at anyone. Just fired in the air and that was pretty mild compared to what some around here would do to poachers. And Lester’s just a slob. Slob and senile are two different things, and that county judge was an idiot not to see the difference. I told Willie Ray to let Lester come live with me. I bet I can talk him into loaning out that machine.”
Kathryn sighed. “That’s beyond Willie Ray’s power and, anyway, his children want him where he is.”
“Bunch of ungrateful little . . . they never go visit him. He’s miserable in there.”
“Now, now. I don’t think that’s true. I’m sure they are doing what they think is best.”
“What’s this German fella got to do with it?”
“Eitel is from near Wünschendorf. He came all this way to see if we could help him get his wheat harvested. They’ve heard about our drive to help the farmers around here. The war has really done a number on his people. Hardly an able-bodied person to be found. Willie Ray has already told him we can’t help. It’s too far outside what Grantville can provide security for. And we have our hands full bringing in the wheat that’s here.”
“And you thought I might go out there and help?”
“I don’t know what I thought. I think Willie Ray believed Eitel’s story might convince you to loan your machine for use here. Right now, it seems like you’re the only one with equipment not in use. I know, I know—it isn’t yours, but surely Lester wouldn’t mind you using it? You need to get off this hill anyway. You’ve been pretty much keeping to yourself back in these woods since Deanna passed. I know I could use your help at the Red Cross. We are working out of the Church of the Nazarene, at least for now. You should come join us.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m afraid my answer on the reaper is the same. But I thank you for the visit.”
Kathryn sighed and rose. “Okay, Robert. And thanks for the tea.”
“Anytime.”
Robert walked her to the porch and then went back to his den and plopped down, scratching his chin, and thinking over what she told him. “Bah. They want the machine, they can let Lester go.” He got up again and went to the window to look for Belle. She should be ready for her dinner by now. To his surprise, the young man still sat on the side of the road, petting the dog. “What the hell is he waitin’ on?” He went back to the kitchen and made a big noise of making Belle’s dinner, sure she would come in. But she stayed with Eitel. Robert sighed and walked out on the porch. Damn dog. “All right, Eitel. It’s getting late. You might as well come in and have supper.” Robert waved him in just in case the fellow couldn’t speak English.
Eitel rose and walked toward the house. Belle danced beside him, pushing against the side of his legs, nearly tripping him up. As he stepped up on the porch, he pulled off his hat and gave a short bow. He waved at where he had been sitting. “My thanks. I was just thinking of what to do. I was not, uhm—”
“You were not trying to invite yourself to dinner. It’s all right. It’s obvious Belle here wants you to join us. I was wondering if you spoke any English. I’ve picked up some German so maybe we can pass words. Come in. Bathroom’s back there on the left.” Robert pointed. “You know about our bathrooms?”
“Yes. I have learned it. Thank you.”
As Eitel went to the bathroom, Robert waggled a kitchen spoon at Belle. “Traitor.” He said it without any reproach in his voice, so Belle just did a spin and put a paw on her bowl, flipping it over. “One of your favorites, girl. Venison, green peas, and some taters.”
By the time Eitel got back, he had her bowl filled and two plates set out.
After mumbling grace, Robert waved his fork at Eitel to let him know to dig in.
“All right, young fella. I’m afraid to ask, but what’s your story?”
Eitel looked at Robert a moment, obviously translating to himself.
“Herr Butcher, we have much wheat in the field. It must be harvested soon. We have no men. And few able women. Maybe ten. The war has been very cruel to us. Many deaths. Many taken away. We had nearly fifty who could cut a year ago, and we hired trained reapers as well. Such men are not to be found now. We heard Grantville was helping farmers, but I have found out we are too far away.”
“How many in your family, Eitel?”
Eitel looked back at Robert. Robert could see his eyes begin to well with water. He dropped his head and didn’t answer.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” Robert reached back to the hutch behind him and grabbed a bottle and two glasses. He poured Eitel two fingers and the same for himself. Robert pushed the glass across the table.
Eitel lifted the glass gingerly and took a sip. He grimaced but took another sip. Eitel wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. Whether that was because of the shine or grief, Robert couldn’t tell.
Robert lowered his voice. “You know. You could just stay here. There is a need for young men, and you’d make out a lot better working here than you would farming.”
“I have been told this many times. I have good reason I must return even if I have no family of my own to go back to.”
Robert leaned back in his chair and gave Eitel a sideways look. “That reason wouldn’t wear a dress and a pretty face, would it?” Robert smiled.
Eitel flushed and smiled back. “It might. Her name is Gese. We would like to wed but her father will not give permission given the uncertainty. If I could get my crop in . . .”
“Ah. I think I see. And so, you been hanging out at the refugee center asking questions and finally hooked up with Willie Ray. He thought he’d send you up here with that story, and a pretty girl to boot, thinkin’ that might change my mind?” Robert smiled.
Eitel looked up at him and scrunched his face a bit. “I do not know about this. They said only you might be of some help. I think perhaps Frau Riddle should not be referred to in such a way?”
Robert laughed. “Well, good for you. That speaks to your favor correcting me on such a thing.” He laughed again. “I cannot explain it well, but calling a married woman pretty is not an insult to her honor among us. Well. I mean I guess it could be depending on how you said it, but I didn’t say it that way. Kathryn indeed is an upstanding woman . . . and a pretty one, too.” He winked.
“I still have much to learn of you up-timers.”
“You’ll figure it out. Help me clean up, and we can pull the cork some more. You might as well stay the night. You can finish telling me about your farm and this gal you’re after. I’ll call down to the center and let ’em know. Belle here would be happy to keep your feet warm if you don’t mind it. She don’t sleep in my room. My wife’s rules.”
The next morning, Robert had been awake a couple of hours before Eitel stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.
“Well, I see corn liquor ain’t exactly what you’re used to. Well. I got your remedy. Some nice salty ham and buttermilk biscuits. One thing I do not miss about up-time is that shitty watery-white stuff people called milk. Y’all got the real deal here.”
Eitel groaned a bit and gingerly picked up a biscuit.
“You missed most of the morning chores. But that’s fine. I got a proposal for you, but first you eat, and then I’ll introduce you to Devil.”
Eitel snapped his head up and his eyes widened.
Robert laughed and slapped his leg. “Naw. Not that devil. This one’s my mule named Devil. He comes by that name honestly as you will see. Devil, and Gertie, my other mule, pull the reaper that I’m also going to show you. Then we can talk about my plan. I’ve been thinking on it most of the night. If you and Lester agree, we got a lot of work to do.”
Eitel did agree to the plan, although Robert decided to withhold a few bits of information. For Eitel’s own good, he told himself.
The next day and a half were busy. They got Robert’s market wagon ready and the reaper partly disassembled and loaded onto it. There were a few overdue repairs on Devil’s plow-harness, and Robert had to get the wagon’s brakes working and fix one of the shafts. Devil, feeling more cantankerous than usual, had almost broken one of them trying to back up and kick. He had missed Robert’s head but had caught the shaft hard on the downstroke.
After lunch the second day they were ready and would go get Lester that evening.
“It still does not sit well with me that we leave in darkness. Honest men have no need to cover their deeds with the night,” Eitel said.
Robert blew out loudly. “I explained this a thousand times. We ain’t doing anything wrong. Everything we’re taking is mine or Lester’s. But the Emergency Committee wants that reaper, and I don’t trust they won’t try to stop us.”
As soon as it got dark, they drove close to Bowers Assisted Living Center and Robert stopped the rig out of sight of the buildings. He handed the reins to Eitel.
“Don’t let go of these or Devil will know it and take off. Don’t try tying him up, neither. That mule would tear down a tree or break his neck if you do it.”
“I believe it. He is the biggest mule I have ever seen in my life.”
As if knowing they were talking about him, Devil bent his neck around and eyed them. Robert found this comical because the mule had to do quite a contortion to see past his blinders.
“I do not like how he looks. He is smarter than a mule should be,” Eitel said.
“He likes you. He hasn’t tried to bite or kick you. Does it to me and Lester all the time.” Robert locked eyes with Devil and pointed two fingers at him. “Yeah, I’m talking about you, you old ornery bastard.” Robert jumped down. “I’ll be right back. Maybe thirty minutes. Make sure Belle don’t follow me.”
Robert trudged up the slope leading to the Bowers grounds. He stayed close to the bushes, though he was fairly certain no one would be looking for prowlers. “One, two, three, fourth window from the right.” Robert tapped on the window four times. No response. “That old coot better not have fallen asleep.” He tapped louder.
A light in the room came on.
“Lester. Damn it. No lights.” Robert rose from his crouch and looked in the window. A medusa stared back at him. The medusa screamed. Robert screamed and stumbled back, tripping over some edging and landing hard. The lady, whom he now realized only resembled Medusa, retreated from the window and yelled into the hallway for someone named Hermann to save her.
Robert heard a noise to his right and looked over to see Lester eyeing him from a different window. “Lester, what the hell are you doing in the wrong room?”
Lester shook his head at him. “You dumbass. I’m in the right room. You’re under the wrong window. You got the old banshee wound up now. If Joshua had her in his army, he wouldn’t have needed any damn horns at Jericho.” Lester threw a bag out and began to wiggle his way through the window. He didn’t get far.
Robert stood up and hobbled over. “Dang it. We should’ve measured that window. I’m not sure that tire of yours is gonna get through. They must feed you pretty well.”
“I’ll feed you this here fist when I get out. They fix these windows so they don’t open all the way. Grab my hand and pull.”
Robert started pulling and Lester inched a bit further.
At that moment, a head appeared out of the medusa’s window. The head shouted in heavily accented English, “Hey! Stop that. What are you doing?”
Hermann, thought Robert. Must be a night orderly. Herman, clearly smaller and more lithe than Lester, started crawling through his window. Robert bent down and felt for some rocks. He came up with a few and started flinging them. He mostly missed, but managed to put one through the glass. Crap. We’re in it now.
“Ow! Ow! Damn you! Stop that!” Herman retreated.
Robert went back to Lester and grabbed him under the armpits and heaved with all he had. Lester popped out of the window, and they landed in a heap, Lester on top of Robert.
“Damn it, Robert. You done scraped me all up.”
“Let’s go, you old fart, before Hermann gets back with reinforcements.”
“I can’t, damn it. My pants pulled off.” Lester turned back.
“Oh, hell no. We got no time to rescue pants.” Robert grabbed Lester by the arm, but Lester swung at him, landing one on the shoulder.
“I ain’t leaving without my pants, pisshead. You always were bossy.” Lester went back to the window and got his pants free.
“Lester. Please. Put your pants on down the hill.”
Lester nodded and they started trotting down the hill. About halfway, Lester fell and started rolling, cursing a blue streak as he went.
It took Robert a minute to catch up with him. “You all right?”
“Gopher hole.”
Robert snorted. “Okay. If you say so. Gimme your hand.”
When they reached the wagon, Eitel stared at them, mouth agape. The moonlight gave them just enough light to see each other, Robert covered in mud and Lester bleeding from his scrapes and naked from the waist down.
“Damn Lester. I think you lost more than your pants.” Robert said.
Lester looked down and then back at Robert and gave him the middle finger. “Least I needn’t be ashamed to be nekid. Unlike someone else we both know.”
“I think both our nude modeling days are long over. I’m willing to risk capture to give you a minute to get them pants on.”
The sound of shouting drifted down, and they could see three or four flashlight beams swinging back and forth across the grass and trees.
“Eitel, let’s get a move on.”
Eitel turned and looked back at the two men. “What has happened? I heard screaming. At least I think it was screaming. It could have been a banshee. And now there are men with lights searching for you. It is clear to me that Herr Hinshaw is not supposed to be leaving this place. What have you gotten me into?”
“It’s called plausible deniability. I’ll explain later.”
“I will not be part of some crime,” Eitel said.
“It ain’t like that. But I don’t have time to explain.” Robert pulled himself up, gave Lester a hand, and then grabbed the reins and popped Devil on the rump. Devil gave a desultory kick in response but moved out.
They went through the night, sometimes barely able to see the road in front of them. By mid-morning, Robert felt they were far enough out of Grantville to risk a stop. He pulled the wagon off the road and behind a copse of trees. Robert and Eitel untacked Devil and Gertie and set up an electrobraid fence to keep them from wandering off. Eitel was still unhappy with the situation, but Robert and Lester had been able to somewhat convince him that Lester’s confinement was unjust.
Robert woke up with a start. It was almost dusk. “Dag nab it.” Lester was supposed to wake him up hours ago. He looked around and spotted Lester with his back against a tree, softly snoring, a shotgun cradled in his arms. Robert went over and gently pulled the shotgun away from him and set it aside. “Hey, dumbass. Wake up.” He kicked Lester in the thigh. None too softly.
“Oi. You old bastard.”
“Don’t ‘oi’ me, numbskull. You fell asleep on watch. The Indians could have had us stuck and scalped by now.”
“Oh, screw you. We’re plenty safe here. Barely out of Grantville.”
“Seriously, Lester. We can get away with that here, but we’re headed into no man’s land. We all gotta stand a watch.”
Lester didn’t say anything, but nodded his head.
“Well, we might as well get a move on. Looks like we’ll have some moon tonight, too, so we can get some miles behind us.” Robert looked around for Belle and finally spotted her curled up next to Eitel. Traitor.
It took longer than he would have liked, but they finally got on the road. He was a little worried about all the tall green grass that Devil and Gertie had eaten while everyone overslept. But they seemed fine, other than Devil having a bad case of gas. And his normal gas could be deadly. Because they were traveling against the wind, there wasn’t any way to avoid it. Only Belle seemed unfazed.
“You would enjoy this, wouldn’t you?” Robert told her.
Belle looked up at him and wagged her whole body.
Devil lifted his tail to let another one loose, and Robert leaned down and raised his elbow in front of his face in case anything besides gas came out.
The sound snapped Eitel out of his slumber. He gave Devil and Robert a quick look. “Too much green grass.”
No shit, Sherlock almost came out of Robert’s mouth, but he decided that would have led to long explanations, and he wasn’t in the mood.
They traveled into the morning again and found an abandoned farmstead not far off the road to rest in. Although Eitel told them he had seen no mercenaries near his home in months, Robert didn’t want to take any chances. Where possible, they went around any villages. He wasn’t afraid of the residents, but a wagon going through at night might raise an alarm and was certain to cause talk. Talk led to trouble.
They decided to get an earlier start and, late afternoon, set off with Eitel driving. Robert was exhausted. Lester clearly was also. As they neared Eitel’s village, Eitel began to chatter nonstop. He kept pointing things out and telling them stories about them. He retold the story of Gese’s father not giving him permission to wed her and how that would all change if they could get the harvest in. Robert and Lester were getting worn out just listening to him, and they started a game of who could produce the most theatrical yawn. But their antics had no effect on Eitel’s enthusiasm.
Finally, Lester handed him a pack of something. “That there is gum. You stick it in your mouth and chew. And you don’t talk while you’re doing it. Enjoy. Have the whole pack. I’m gonna have a lie back in the wagon.”
Robert leaned against the seat’s side rail and closed his eyes.
They both awoke to Eitel’s excited voice. “There. That is the lane to our village. My own family’s house is just down here. If we hurry, we can call at Gese’s before dinner. We need to talk to Herr Dorsch, Gese’s father, to get his help to gather everyone for the harvesting and threshing. And we may want his plow horses, too. Mighty as they are, I do not think Devil and Gertie can do everything.”
Lester looked at Robert. “I wouldn’t mind getting a look at this girl he’s been going on about. You know all this trouble is just so he can get laid. I bet he’s still a virgin—”
Robert smacked him with his hat and lowered his voice. “Eitel isn’t some West Virginia redneck boy chasing skirt. And every farm boy in this world is a virgin till he gets hitched, or engaged, which is pretty much the same thing here. Mind your teasing.”
Lester smiled. “Shit, Robert. That’s what we were doing at his age. We never went to this much work though.”
“Oh. I don’t know. I think the last ones we got made us work for it.”
“Both worth it, my man. I’ll let you in on something. If you’re looking for action, Bowers is the place. This tire I got round my middle ain’t from Bowers’ food. It’s all the goodies those desperate widows bring me all the time.” Lester winked.
“Yeah. No thanks.”
“Ah. We are here, my friends,” Eitel said. “The mules and the wagon can go in the barn to the right . . . and there is smoke rising from the chimney. Dear Gese has been here I think.”
And still was. The door opened and a very comely blonde girl came running out with her arms wide, crying as she came. Eitel leaped down, with Belle chasing him. He rushed to Gese, nearly knocking her over. Gese grabbed his face, kissed him full, and then leaned her head on his chest, grabbed his shirt in both fists, and sobbed. Eitel turned bright red but didn’t let her go.
Lester leaned over to Robert. “Damn. That’s a keeper that’ll miss you that much.”
Robert nodded.
Belle ran around and around Gese and Eitel, barking. After a minute, she must have realized the game wasn’t for her amusement, and she loped back to the wagon and looked up.
“You see you ain’t his best gal, do you? Well, I happen to have a bit of jerky in my pocket and it’s the cure for a broken heart . . . come on, Lester. Let’s get unpacked and give these birds their moment.”
They almost had the wagon and the mules settled when Eitel rushed into the barn, full of apologies. Apparently, sheer luck had Gese there when they arrived. She had been coming every day to see to the animals and normally was already on her way back by mid-morning but had decided to clean the house that day. She made dinner for them out of two cans of Spam they brought. Robert told them it was chopped ham. Eh, he thought. Close enough. Gese spoke little and was content to mostly gaze at Eitel.
Lester and Robert begged off going to meet Herr Dorsch that night. They were dead tired, and tomorrow was a big day. Eitel walked Gese home.
Near Wünschendorf
Robert and Lester were fast asleep when Eitel returned just after dark. Robert decided that, since it wasn’t Deanna’s house, Belle could sleep with him, and she lay curled up at his feet.
Just before sunrise, the door opened, and light from a lantern spilled into the room. Eitel stood behind the lamp. “Herr Butcher? Are you awake? Time to begin, I think.”
Robert sat up and slid his legs off the bed. Belle jumped down and pushed her muzzle into his calf. “Yup. We’re up. C’mon, Belle, let’s get you outside.”
Breakfast was the dinner leftovers and gruel, warmed up over the fire. Robert thanked God they had brought some seasoning as these people had none, and gruel was a sad affair without it.
By the time the scrawny rooster in the yard was greeting the sun, they had the reaper down and assembled and were hitching up Devil and Gertie. Herr Dorsch and Gese arrived as they led the mules to the nearest field, which ran right up to the barn.
Robert walked over to Gese’s father and stuck out his hand. “How ya do? I’m Robert.”
Heinrich Dorsch looked at the hand a moment and then grasped it lightly.
Robert smiled and decided not to force a proper shake. With his limited German and Eitel’s assistance, they introduced each other. More people arrived as they talked. There were three men older than Robert, four young women between thirteen and thirty, a smattering of children, maybe five ladies aged from forty to sixty, and one quite elderly lady. He gazed at the group. Heinrich must have caught his doubtful look. He spoke to Eitel who translated.
“Herr Dorsch says they are all hard workers. Strong. Even Grandma Schmidt will be helpful.”
Robert nodded his head. “No men?”
Eitel’s face dropped. “No. I am the only man in the village older than ten and younger than fifty.”
Robert pursed his lips and nodded. To change the subject, he motioned everyone to gather round the reaper. He pointed out the important parts. “This here is the cutting bar. It’ll cut the grain at any height and the operator can raise or lower the machine depending on the ground or the length stalk you want. These three paddles sweep the grain and stalks onto the platform on the back and the fourth paddle pushes the bundle off onto the ground. That’s where you folks come in. You gather it, bind it, and stack it on the wagon that’ll follow us.”
“How much faster than men with scythes?” asked Eitel.
“If the fields are pretty much like this one, it would take fifteen to twenty men to keep up with what we can do.”
As Eitel translated, a murmuring wave went through the group. There were more than a few disbelieving frowns. Robert just smiled. “Well, how ’bout I just show you?” He hopped onto the driver’s seat, took a minute to adjust everything, flicked the reins at Devil and Gertie, and called out “Hyup.” Belle ran to the front with an excited yip. Robert imagined Belle thought this entire operation’s purpose was just to scare up little critters for her to chase and dispatch. They’d have to lock her up somewhere in a few hours or she’d run herself to death.
The reaper went down the field edge, cutting and sweeping bundles of grain stalks onto the ground. The whole crowd trotted along behind, at first too stunned to get to work. Smiles broke out, and Heinrich clapped his hands and shouted. Robert thought he heard him say, “I do not think we can keep up with you.”
Gradually, the people got organized and were binding the sheaves and carting them away. Another wagon arrived, and more carts, and gradually they were able to keep up. Throughout the morning, the reaper clickety-clacked its way through Eitel’s fields, its rake paddles adding their fwop fwop sound. As Robert expected, Heinrich’s horses did not care for the noise of this new contraption and had to be slowly acclimated to it by watching and then following the reaper. By the end of the day, they would try one, and then the other, beside Gertie, but not Devil, to get them used to it. He couldn’t pair Devil with any other animal because he exuded malice and seemed to make anyone except Gertie nervous. He and Fletcher took turns driving and teaching Eitel the machine.
Early afternoon, they took a break under a big oak. Some of the ladies had gone back for food and set out a spread. Gese went to Eitel’s place to get some of Robert’s provisions, and they had a hearty, although simple, lunch.
Eitel and a couple of the older children were seeing to Devil and Gertie, getting them watered and checking for rubs or any other problems.
Robert and Lester sat down on a fallen branch. “You look like a mule eating briars, Lester.”
“Well, bud, I been stuck in that retirement home for years now eating ginger snaps and chocolate chips. God, it feels good to be back at this. I appreciate you getting me out of there. By the way, how long you reckon I have to stay out here living with Eitel?”
“Beats me. I’ll have to send you a message when the coast clears. Hell, they might lock me up when I go back.” Robert gave Lester a sideways look. “You look a bit tired. Feeling okay?”
“I’m fine, fart-face. Worry about your own old ass.”
Robert raised both hands. “Just asking. Geesh . . . you can take a break, you know. I think Eitel is ready to run the reaper.”
“I don’t doubt it. Boy’s got a way with the team. I think Devil has a crush on him. I thought that mule hated everyone but Gertie. And he barely tolerates her.”
Robert laughed. “You got that right. We better keep Gese away from Devil so he’s not tempted to remove the competition.”
Lester brushed the crumbs off his jeans and stood. “I reckon it’s my turn driving. Then Eitel can have a long spell at it. Y’all finish your lunch and catch up to me when you can. I’ll get things going.” Belle, refreshed from a quick nap, got up to follow him.
Lester moved the rig into position and engaged the reaper. The field they were in was narrow but long. Maybe a few hundred meters.
A half hour later, Belle’s occasional yip changed to an incessant bark.
Eitel looked across the field to where the reaper stood still. “Herr Hinshaw has stopped.”
Robert also looked but couldn’t make out what Lester was doing. “Probably another jam.”
Belle started howling, and Robert realized something was wrong. “Eitel, we better get down there.”
Eitel began sprinting toward the reaper, and Robert followed as fast as he could. Eitel got there long before him and began waving frantically back.
By the time Robert arrived, Eitel had taken his shirt off and had it under Lester’s head. It looked like Lester had fallen from the seat. He was bleeding from a cut above his eye and was gray as a ghost. But the cut was not near bad enough to explain the pallor. Robert got down on his knees and checked Lester for any other injuries.
“I’m all right. Gimme a minute,” Lester said.
“You ain’t all right. You look like death warmed over.” Robert started trying to find a pulse, but couldn’t seem to get it. He finally put his ear against Lester’s chest. “Lester, you’re heart’s all over the place. I can’t figure out what I’m hearing.”
“I got arrhythmia, you dumbass. My heart goes wonky every once in a while. Been happening more lately.”
“Shit, Lester. Why didn’t you tell me? I never would’ve brought you out here. We gotta get you back—”
Lester cut him off. “They can’t do anything. Medicine wasn’t helping anymore. And they can’t waste what’s left. I was supposed to get a pacemaker but the Ring nixed that. Best get me someplace to rest and maybe it will fix itself.”
Robert, Gese, and another villager helped get Lester into the gathering wagon and back to Eitel’s house where they settled him in a bed. Lester shooed Robert and Eitel away, arguing that they couldn’t do anything, and the reaper had to keep running while the weather held. Robert reluctantly agreed after Gese said she would look after Lester, which was very much to Lester’s liking. “She’s a sore sight better to look at than your sour mug.”
Eitel waggled his finger at both of them and said, “I am not sure if I should leave you two alone. Herr Hinshaw is not to be trusted.”
Robert barked a laugh. “Eitel, that’s the first joke I’ve heard out of you since we met.”
Eitel winked back but Robert could see the worry in his face.
The rest of the afternoon, Robert finished Eitel’s instruction on the reaper. For a while, Robert walked behind the machine, but he eventually got too tired and hopped into the gathering wagon to supervise from there. By this time, they had put Herr Dorsch’s horses in the harnesses and although one of them pinned his ears back tight the whole time, they didn’t panic at the noise from the reaper.
The sun was low when they spotted Gese running toward them, her skirts held in one hand. Robert, fearing the worst, hopped off the wagon and walked toward her. Eitel stopped the reaper and looked over at them.
He didn’t need Eitel’s translation. Lester had asked Gese to go get him. After quick instructions to the women on what to do with the horses and rig, Robert and Eitel hopped on the wagon and headed back to Eitel’s farmhouse.
If anything, Lester looked even worse. White as a sheet, Robert’s mom would have said.
“How ya feeling, bud?”
Lester spoke, but barely above a whisper. “I’m hanging, man.”
Gese and her father entered the room. He had his hat in his hand and looked at Lester expectantly.
“I asked Gese to bring her father. I wanna know if he’s gonna let her marry Eitel now.”
Eitel flushed red.
“Lester, I don’t think—” Robert began.
Lester raised a hand slightly. “I don’t have the breath to waste. Ask him. Wait, no. Tell him I’m giving Eitel the reaper. He can make a good living with it, I think.”
With Eitel’s help, Robert translated. Gese began to cry as she absorbed the words. Heinrich grimaced and explained for a couple of minutes.
Robert heard him out and turned to Lester. “Correct me if I got that wrong, Eitel, but I think he apologized for saying no the first time. He says your gift isn’t necessary and thanks us for all the help. He says you have saved the village.”
Eitel nodded his head in agreement.
“Well. I’m giving it anyway. I guess I should’ve asked you first, Robert, but I’m pretty sure you don’t mind.”
“Course not. It was just a toy to us. But it’s a godsend for them.”
“Settled then. Robert, you been a good friend.”
“You just shut up with that kind of talk. Get some sleep, and we’ll see how you feel.”
Gese made everyone leave except Robert, who pulled a chair up beside Lester’s door. It was several hours later when Robert realized Lester’s soft snoring had stopped. He quietly went to the bed and checked him for any sign of breathing. Wiping away tears, Robert crossed Lester’s hands over his chest. He put his own hand on top of them. After a long while, he patted Lester, rose, found Belle, went to his own bed, and let exhaustion take him.
When Robert woke, it was nearly mid-morning. He heard careful moving sounds in the house and found Gese and a couple of the other women. Gese came over and embraced him briefly. The other women murmured words he did not understand but he could hear the sympathetic tone. He looked in the door to Lester’s room but did not go in. Gese was saying something to him. After a moment, he realized she was saying they would make Lester ready. He nodded. He really didn’t want to hang around the house and mourn. Gese found a girl to take him to where Eitel was working in a smaller field on the other side of the village. When the crowd there saw him, they gathered around him. Heinrich grabbed him by an arm and said something. Eitel translated.
“We are all so very sorry, Herr Butcher. We will never forget him or you. And the gift. We cannot repay such kindness. How can we help you?”
“I’ll be fine. I intend to help you finish the harvest and then head home.” He brushed off Eitel’s objections. “I’d feel better doing something. And I’d like you to have the mules and wagon to go with the rig. Devil would never forgive me if I parted you two.” They settled on Eitel driving him back to Grantville and returning with the wagon. That night they buried Lester beside Eitel’s family. There were no clergy available, so they did what they could. Heinrich read from his Bible. Robert couldn’t think of much more to say than I loved you, brother.
* * *
Two weeks after he got back to Grantville, they did a memorial service for Lester there. He didn’t go because Lester’s son, Guy, was mad and blamed him for Lester’s death, even though Doc Adams told him it was inevitable. Guy made a little noise about pressing charges, but it really wasn’t clear that anything was done illegally, so the matter was dropped. Robert decided he would go back to keeping to himself.
The morning after the memorial service, Robert was back on his porch rocking slowly. Belle took a nap on his bed. He had decided it was time to let go of Deanna’s rules. In his hand was a letter Eitel had left him before taking the wagon and the mules back to his village. Robert kept thinking about one thing Eitel wrote. Because you decided to help, everything has changed for me. And my people. He folded the letter and put it in an envelope. With a grunt, he got up, grabbed some things from inside, and called to Belle. “Come on, girl, we’re going into town.”
He rode his bike, and Belle ran happily along. It was a bit of a hike to the Church of the Nazarene. Inside, the Red Cross folks were organizing care packages in the fellowship hall. He stood for a while in the doorway, not knowing what to do. Luckily, Kathryn Riddle was there, spotted him, and walked over.
“Well, Robert Butcher. I was wondering if you might take me up on my suggestion one day.”
“Yeah. Well. I figured I could be of some use. And I thought I should be sharing this.” He handed her a large paper bag. She took it, a slight frown on her face, and slowly opened the bag. Kathryn peered inside, smiled at him, then put her face in the bag and inhaled the scent.
“Oh, Robert. You’re about to get very popular here. Come on in.”
* * *
