Hadn't Magdeburg been burnt to the ground? Well, damn! Julio headed for the kitchen to read the paper. Let the babysitter sleep. He looked around for the bottle of shine, which Angie hadn't found. He pulled the cork and took a swig.
He looked at the paper and, for the first time since the Ring Of Fire, saw news that wasn't filtered through people like the Coopers and Harts.
Maybe life would be better in a place like Magdeburg. It mentioned the planned navy base in the article. Julio thought about all the new service businesses that would be springing up around the base. Magdeburg might just be the place for him to go.
Julio laid the paper down on the cluttered table, took one more pull on the bottle, and hid it again. He walked past the babysitter and the twins. He'd sleep on the idea about getting away from here. Maybe things would be clearer in the morning.
* * *
It was absolutely dead in the Club. Fenton Mase and Odetta Thorpe wandered into the kitchen. Julio was kicked back, looking at a paper. "Horse shit! Julio, you know better than to bring anything German into the Club. Ken or one of the regulars see that, and all hell will bust loose."
"Look at this, Fenton." Julio held the paper up for him to see.
"You know I can't read that crap!" growled Fenton. "What's it say that's worth knowing about?
Julio translated as he read Fenton the article about Magdeburg's growth. "You know, the more I look at this, the more I think I'll just pack up and go."
"You have to be crazy to even consider it!" Fenton's voice was sarcastic.
"No. Think about it. I looked it up. Magdeburg is far enough away that I ain't goin' to have a bunch of people remembering me as one of the Club 250 trash; but it isn't that far away. At least it will be better than here."
Fenton snorted. "Hell! Julio, that place isn't America! It's full of foreigners and the US Navy Base there isn't American—even if that is what the paper says. They don't even got 'lectric or flush shitters there. Magdeburg ain't civilized yet."
"Well, I'm seriously thinking of going. What do I have here? A job washing dishes and flipping burgers for a bunch of shitheads nobody likes. They don't even like each other."
Julio stopped Fenton before he could say anything. "Don't give me any crap about the good old boys. You know as well as I do, the Club has been going downhill since that first election. And how many waitresses has this place gone through? Brandy quit; Marlene quit; and Angie isn't worth a hill of beans even when she does show. All the good ol' boys do is complain about how everything would be better if it weren't for all the Germans—or Mike Stearns, or the sky isn't blue today. I don't need this no more."
Fenton started to rebut Julio but thought again. "Read that to me again. But get the paper out of here before Ken sees it."
"Yeah, read it again, Julio," Odetta added, a look of wanderlust in her eyes.
Julio started reading the article once more. Two people seemed to think he had stumbled onto something.
* * *
A few days later, Julio had made up his mind and headed down to Grantville Homes and Land. He saw Huddy Colburn himself. He wanted to sell his home and fast. It wasn't a case of going for the best price. When Juanita had been injured in ninety-two, he'd pretty much given up on life. Since the accident, his rock and confidante couldn't give him the support he had come to rely on. It had almost been a blessing when she had finally passed away in 1632.
He hadn't been much of a father after Juanita's accident. His cousin and his wife were more parents to his youngest two children than he'd been. Maybe that was why they had turned out better than Angie. She'd been sixteen at the time and had just gone wild—too wild. Her life had been spiraling downhill ever since.
Huddy made an offer of his own for the lot and house. Some major work was going to have to be done to bring the place up to standards. Julio had allowed the house to fall apart bit by bit. Huddy had made sure he understood that he was going below market value on the place; but it was going to cost him to have the place repaired for later sale.
Well, it wasn't like Julio wanted to wait around for Huddy to put the place on the market and wait around for a bite. He'd decided to leave, and that was final.
"Two weeks enough time to vacate the place?" Huddy had asked.
Two weeks was more than enough time. The next day, Huddy had the contract and the check for the place ready. Julio had two weeks to pack up and go. Magdeburg or bust. So long, Grantville.
* * *
Julio had just finished telling his oldest daughter that he was leaving. And that she would have to find someplace else to live. It had taken two days to catch her and she now had less than two weeks to find a new place.
Angie Sanabria glared at her father. "What do you mean, you've sold the house and I'll have to find somewhere else to live? This is my home, too, you know!"
Julio looked at his daughter and smiled. "It was my home. You just live here. How much have you contributed to maintenance and food? Now it belongs to Grantville Homes and Land. I could have sold it for more, but I just want out of here. So I dumped it for the first offer. After the bank grabbed their share to pay back the mortgage, there isn't all that much left. Finally, if you'd ever been around, you'd have known what I was going to do."
"You can't do this, Papa! Where will me and the twins live now? And where are you going to live?"
"I don't know where you'll be living, to tell you the truth. You have your partying friends and can probably live with one of them." Julio pointed to himself. "Me? I'm moving to Magdeburg. So you'll just have to grow up and take care of your own life."
"You can't do this!"
He looked at her. "That's where you're wrong, Angie. I can do it and I'm going to. You have to learn there's more to life than just one big party."
* * *
Odetta listened while her two co-workers talked about moving to Magdeburg. They even had a plan for starting a business there. Both had something to put in, though most of the money and other things would be coming from Julio Sanabria.
"I can sell the trailer, even if I don't own the lot it sits on. That will give me some money. And I should be able to get something for the Bronco." Fenton had joined in the plan to move.
"How about letting me come along? I can wait tables." Odetta watched the sour looks invade both men's faces. "Okay, I can do fast foods, too. I've done the short order cook routine in Norfolk, Baltimore, and Akron. I can be of use and I want to leave, too."
Julio studied her like she was a dog with two heads. Granted, she didn't really get along with most people, except Estil Congden. But hell. She hadn't planned on making Grantville her home. It had been one of those stopovers before she moved on to greener pastures.
"Why the hell not?" Julio looked at Fenton. "Let's all tell Ken we're quitting at the same time. I really want to see the look on his face."
Odetta and Fenton both laughed, but it was short lived. The first of the regulars arrived. It was time to go to work.
* * *
Fenton counted the money he'd received for the rundown trailer he'd owned for the last umpteen years and smiled. For now, he was staying in the same flophouse the new Krauts stayed in. He'd stayed in worse, though not by much.
The Krauts weren't too bad. No worse than Freddie Congden or the Hart brothers. Fenton wasn't going to think about that scum bucket, Ronnie Murray. Actually, the Germans were better. At least they were polite and not ordering him around all the time. He had moved what he wanted to keep into the storage unit he had rented and sold the rest. For now, the money was going into the bank until he needed it. There was no use tempting fate and ending up blowing it on something stupid. Well, maybe he could tie one on and celebrate, but not at the Club 250. Crappola! He could start out at the Gardens and then move on to Tips.
Fenton was tired of being treated lower than dirt by most of the up- and down-timers. He figured Julio was right. There was no future in staying with the Club 250. Boy, had he enjoyed watching Ken howl when the thr
ee of them quit together. Let Ken do his own bartending. Damn! He'd thought Ken was going to have a heart attack right there on the spot! Oh, well. It wasn't his problem anymore.
He was going to go with Julio and Odetta. Maybe they could, finally, find someplace they could live where their pasts wouldn't haunt them. Grantville sure wasn't his cup of tea anymore. It was time to move on.
* * *
Angie had checked with her so-called friends. Papa was right. There was nothing here worth staying around for. Everyone thought she was a trashy whore and with Papa gone she would have nobody. She had alienated her brother and sister. Even her cousins had no use for her. She was going to take the twins and go with Papa, whether he knew it or not. Besides, she was pregnant again and she wasn't sure who the hell the father was. Just one problem after another.
Her so-called friend, Tiffany, said she could stay with her and her folks for a few days, but she would have to take care of her own daughters. No one at the Cooper place would baby-sit for her. Papa would be leaving in just over a week with Fenton Mase and Odetta Thorpe. For now she would just have to impose on the Coopers for a while longer than her welcome was for. Well, it wasn't like she would be around to have to mend any fences after she left Grantville with Papa.
She wondered what the people in Magdeburg did for fun. There was going to be a Navy base there and she'd heard sailors were really great for having a good time. She'd find out after they got settled there.
Grantville, January, 1634
Julio went through the things he wanted crated. There was a nearly thirty-year-old set of Encyclopedia Britannica; all of Angie's old Golden Books; his Louis L'amour books, all eight of them; and the home improvement book set Juanita had signed him up for.
They'd received almost half of the large card-like page inserts before they stopped the monthly installments to the book. Most of it was just not going to be of much use. How to apply vinyl flooring was just not going to be a big thing. Forget the special glue, where would he get rolls of vinyl flooring to start with? He flipped through the book and laughed. Here was a good one. How to apply wallpaper. Well, it might be useful. Didn't his grandfather use paper sacks to cover his walls and then paint them? He threw the home improvement book into the crate. Hadn't his grandfather made wheat paste to put the paper up? How had he made it? The answer might be in the encyclopedia.
He placed all his power tools to one side. The circular saw and jig saw were going to do him no good without electricity. Those, he would pass on to Amy. John was off with the military somewhere, he thought. He'd lost track of him.
The bow saw and rip saw he packed. All four hammers went into the box. He thought he'd lost three of them. He had bought new ones to replace the lost ones. The old single jack went into a case along with three wood chisels. The tool box containing four combo wrenches, two pliers, a handful of screw drivers, and a socket set with a broken ratchet and half the sockets missing would also go to Amy. He hadn't realized that so much of his stuff was junk, but maybe she would have a use for it.
There was a camping hatchet he'd never used and an old Coleman lantern. The hatchet he pitched into the crate and he placed the lantern with the power tools. Two boxes of 30-06 shells from twenty years ago appeared among the junk. Into the crate they went.
Juanita's wedding dress took a moment for him to make a decision about. He didn't remember putting it out here. Hadn't he thrown it away with her other things? He folded it and placed it into the crate. Damn! He had to dig out one of the hammers he'd packed to nail the lid down and start a new crate.
Three coffee cans of screws and nails went into the next crate. Clothing came next. These clothes were made from synthetics and were still in good shape. Regrettably, the pants and shirts didn't fit him anymore, but they might again. Additional clothing went into another crate. If he couldn't use them, he might be able to trade them. The clothes filled the second crate. Juanita would have donated the stuff to the church long ago. He'd just tossed them into the garage like so many other things.
Juanita's sewing machine appeared once the clothing was moved. It was just one more thing he thought he'd gotten rid of. How much more of these reminders remained? The small Singer needed electricity to work. He would sell it because Amy probably wouldn't want it.
Julio found the trowel and masonry tools he'd invested in when he thought he'd be a bricklayer. The job had never panned out. He put the masonry tools into the third crate on top of the extra clothes. They could still be of use; though where he would get cement, fire clay, and lime, he had no idea. Sand wasn't a problem. It was everywhere.
He finally found their old hand cranked meat grinders. He carefully packed them away. They would be needed, along with the spatulas, and two old barbeques. Charcoal would be no problem. Everything needed to be taken apart, cleaned, and oiled.
By the time he'd packed five crates, he'd weeded through the entire contents of his home and garage. Julio took the discarded materials he didn't think Amy could use out into the drive after he shoveled the snow clear and laid out a blue plastic tarp to protect everything from the dampness. He hammered a sign to the black walnut tree in front of the house and sat back in his lawn chair. It was colder than a witch's tit; but with a beer and the heavy mackinaw coat, he waited as passersby stopped to buy those items useless to him. One man's trash was another's treasure—or something like that.
It didn't take long for people to wander up and start asking how much for this or that. His answer was always the same. "Make me an offer."
His yard sale quickly turned into an auction. Things like the toaster went for more than he thought it cost new. That was figuring for the value of the dollar now as compared to before the Ring of Fire. The sewing machine went for a king's ransom, or so it seemed to him. He'd planned to spend the day sitting outside while bored neighbors went through his junk. Instead, it seemed like half of Grantville showed up to buy things he didn't want anymore.
What would he have made if everything had been maintained properly? He hadn't realized just how badly he'd let everything slide over the last twelve years. The only reason the house hadn't been the mess the garage had been was the babysitter, Barbara, had cleaned the place once in awhile.
* * *
Papa and his friends had two wagons filled with wooden cases. They had rented the wagons and teams from Old Man Bickrodt, promising to leave them with a friend of his who ran a stable and smithy outside of Magdeburg. Now Papa was going to find out she intended to go with him. Angie had already snuck her few plastic bags onto Papa's wagon while they had been inside having breakfast. They hadn't even noticed her things when Papa and Fenton had loaded the rest of his crates.
Angie made her way toward her father with the twins in tow. It was hard going because the girls were only toddlers, unsteady on their feet. Besides, she wasn't used to having them with her. It had been Barbara's job to take care of them. But without Papa paying most of her money, Barbara had found other employment.
Angie's mouth dropped open when Julio looked up. "Took you long enough. Well, get into the wagon and I'll pass Juanita and Julie up to you."
"But Papa!" Angie sounded more like a ten year old than a woman of nearly twenty-eight.
Her father shook his head. "If you thought I wouldn't find out what you were up to, you shouldn't have been smart mouthing Connie Cooper. Didn't you think that woman would track me down and start demanding I hurry up and get you out of town? She was so happy I was taking you away from her poor daughter, who you were corrupting with your whoring ways."
Angie started to protest but Julio glared at her. "Don't say a word, Angie, or I'll change my mind and leave you. If I can decide to start over somewhere else and get away from this place and everyone who knows me, I can give you the same chance. It's up to you whether you screw it up or not."
Angie climbed aboard and her father passed the girls up to her. Both were crying for Barbara. They didn't want to be with her. For some reason, it hurt. It hurt just t
he way her father talked to her. It had been a long time since anything had hurt like today.
* * *
Fenton had not been pleased about having Julio's daughter along. Angie was a waste of space. She was part of the party girl pack that included the Cooper girl. He didn't have much interest in them. There was no telling who they had been with and he didn't want to be pissing razor blades. No penicillin to get rid of that anymore. Three doses of the clap in his life had been enough for him. He had lived like a monk for the last two years. At least pretty much like a monk.
They'd brought their American weapons, but the up-time ammunition wouldn't last forever. They also purchased Struve-Reardon made musket-rifles and a set of the Hockenjoss and Klott revolvers each. Julio had misgivings about the revolvers. It was a matter of the supply of percussion caps.
That was why old Julio had also purchased a pair of flintlock pistols. He didn't want to be without weapons that would be easy to get the powder and lead for. Things wouldn't be all that safe on the road, even if the war was a long ways off and they were only traveling to Magdeburg. After all, they were leaving a place where real Americans were and heading deep into Krautland.
They had to travel through the snow and cold to get to Magdeburg. They were driving a treasure train with all their valuables aboard. Fenton smiled to himself. If they were attacked, maybe they could trade Angie off to the bandits and get them to leave the rest of them alone. No. It wouldn't be fair. The bandits would get the worst of the deal.
Fenton secured the last of the ropes. He checked the thirty-eight in the shoulder holster and prepared to climb into the wagon seat. Julio would lead out with his slut daughter and his bastard grandkids. Why the man wanted to drag them along was beyond him. It was just one more reason this trip was beginning to seem like a bad idea.
They had to face bad weather, days riding on a wagon, and finally starting over in Magdeburg.
Fenton pulled himself into the seat next to Odetta. He picked up the reins and followed Julio as he led out. Julio had come up with this hare-brained scheme. Hopefully, Julio knew what he was doing. Fenton no longer did.