Grantville Gazette IV, page 6
"Heather, have you seen Vicky lately?" Judy asked. "I tried to call her, but she wouldn't come to the phone."
"Every time she sees me, she turns around and heads in a different direction," Heather answered. "Gabrielle even went over to her house, but the housekeeper said she wasn't home. Gabrielle said she knew it wasn't true, because she had just seen Vicky go in."
"This is stupid. We were just trying to help."
"You know, Judy, the spending might not be the whole problem. It seems like Vicky's been a little weird since before the Ring of Fire," Heather mused. "Do you remember when she told us her Mom was pregnant? It seems like it started back then. She got kind of moody, and now she's competing against everyone. It seems like she's out to get people."
"Yeah, come to think of it, she hasn't been acting very happy about anything, has she?"
"I don't know what her problem is, Judy. She's still calling people 'marks,' too. It's kind of mean."
Judy fell into thought for a few moments. Vicky was competing with everyone, dressing to attract attention, trying to stay in the spotlight. Maybe jealousy was at the heart of her problem. Judy said, "Maybe she was competing with her friends, because she couldn't compete with her little brother. Maybe that's part of the problem. It's not something we can fix, but it might help if she talked to us about it. We've all been friends forever and I just hate it when we fight."
"Yeah, me, too. You don't have an extra CD player, do you?"
Heather's abrupt change of subject didn't really surprise Judy. Heather probably didn't realize how uncaring she sounded, but that was just Heather. She always tried to avoid emotional conversations.
"Afraid not, and I'm being very careful with the one I do have, too. I'm not sure they can even be fixed if they break, can they?" Judy asked.
Heather's face was glum. "Mr. Dotson is going to try to fix it. But he said not to hope too hard."
"Officer?"
Bill Magen looked towards the whisper. One of the men he had noticed a few days ago was standing in shadow, motioning at him. Blake started forward, but Bill stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Let me," he whispered, "He's German and may not have much English."
Moving toward the man, Bill began speaking in his own language. After a hurried conference, during which the man darted looks all around, Bill nodded and the man hurried off.
As Bill rejoined Blake, he noticed Blake's querying look. "Is a worried man, this Henning is. Do you remember the men we saw, the ones at Tyler's? And that man who looked so angry?"
"I remember. That one guy looked really mean," Blake remarked. "I wondered why he was staring at that woman."
"That man is Arend Nebel. The woman is Helene Gundelfinger. He was part of the stock panic a few months ago, you remember hearing about it?"
"Oh, yeah. All that stuff. I remember. A bunch of people got silly about rumors, wasn't it? So, what's his problem?"
"Is not silly, Blake," Bill answered. "Is very serious to this man, Arend. He lost a lot of money and is very angry. Henning, he says that Arend is dangerous and is planning something. Henning does not know what, but wanted we should watch Arend."
"There's not a lot we can do, Bill, except spread the word around. If he hasn't done anything, we can't just go arrest him on someone's suspicions."
"I will ask Sergeant Grooms when we report in," Bill remarked. "We can watch for this Arend Nebel, at least. He might try something."
"Well, Brandy, do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Jessica Whitney asked as she walked into the office.
Brandy's hopes sank. The tests hadn't seemed that difficult, except for the math test. Wincing, she answered, "You may as well just dump it all out, Mrs. Whitney. How bad was it?"
"Not nearly as bad as I think you think it was, Brandy. You passed the language arts portions with flying colors, as a matter of fact. Do you do a lot of reading?"
"Not especially. I used to read some magazines, sometimes. I've tried reading a few books, but I never really found anything I liked very much. Some of them were just silly. And some of them were a real bore. Who could believe," Brandy asked with a grin, "that humans could colonize the entire galaxy? And why would some woman run away to sea and become a pirate? And, if she was any good at it, why would she give it up for love? Sure. That makes a lot of sense. Come on!"
Jessica smiled in response. "Well, I suppose everyone has their own preference in entertainment. You know, you also passed the social studies portion of the test. The only problem areas are science and math. It's going to take some study and a fair bit of work, but you could have your GED in a couple or three months. Are you willing to work on it?"
"I need to pass those tests. I'll work on it and I'll study, if you tell me what I need to do. It will have to be part time, though. I'm not going to let my mother support me, so I'll have to find another job real soon," Brandy answered with renewed hope.
"Do you have one lined up, yet?"
"I guess I could go to the elementary school lunchroom. Peggy Craig says I can start there, anytime I want. I'm not real crazy about the idea. I don't really like kids very much, but a job's a job," Brandy answered.
"People say that there's nothing wrong with any kind of honest work, Brandy. And there isn't. But, have you ever thought of aiming a little higher? Anyone can serve food in a cafeteria, but not everyone can read and understand English as well as you could, if you worked at it. Have you heard about the Grantville Research Center? They could use some younger people, and it looks like you could be a help to them," Jessica responded. "Their budget isn't that large, so I'm not sure what they'll pay. And I warn you, you'd have to do a lot of reading. It won't always be interesting reading, either. Research is so much harder without the internet to rely on that you might think that the job is pretty hard to do, at first."
"You think I could get a desk job? Would they hire me, Mrs. Whitney? I haven't done anything like that, ever."
"Give me a day or so to talk to Laura Jo or Meg. I'll let you know, okay?" Jessica smiled warmly at Brandy. "You scored really well on reading comprehension. They need that. If you can pay enough attention to all the little details, you can do it."
"And how was your day?" Donna asked as Brandy slumped into a chair.
"My brain hurts. My eyes are going to cross if I have to read another word." Brandy groaned. "I never knew that so many people could have so many questions. Where do rubber trees grow? What is the melting point of . . . whatever it was, I can't remember. "What's the chemical composition of . . . something? It might be easier to wash pots and pans all day. Why am I doing this, again?"
Donna grinned at her tired daughter as she rubbed her own aching legs. In spite of her complaints about the research, Brandy seemed to be enjoying herself. Donna was glad to see that Brandy was beginning to look like her old self. She looked happier and somehow softer, less like the hard-edged barmaid. "We go through this every evening, Brandy. You're doing it to make a better life for yourself. How are the studies coming along?"
"Pretty well, I think. Mrs. Whitney says I can probably pass the test in a couple of months. I got to sit down and have lunch with Justine, today, too. She's just about my age and her English is pretty good. I like her."
"Why don't you plan to invite her over in a few weeks, then?" Donna asked. "You and I are going to have a little celebration, pretty soon."
"What do we have to celebrate, Mom?"
"Oh, lots of things. Your new job, new friends, old friends, and most of all," Donna paused as she placed a packet of papers on the table, "I made the last payment on the mortgage today. The house is all ours, finally. Now, with the extra money, maybe we can remodel that garage."
Brandy smiled at her mother. Donna had wanted to pay off the mortgage for years. Converting the garage to a room to rent would add even more money to their budget. Donna's excitement and happiness at her success was infectious. "I'd like to invite Blake, if you don't mind, Mom. And I really ought to include that pal of his. Bill Something . . . Magen, I think. I sort of owe both of them an apology."
"There is girl, again," Bill muttered with a sigh.
Blake followed Bill's gaze and saw Vicky Emerson walking toward them. Even to Blake's untutored eyes, Vicky looked like a wealthy young woman. He had recently paid the bill for having his uniforms altered to fit and was still surprised at the cost of the clothing he had seen in the shop. The simple alterations hadn't cost that much, but the price of fabric for new clothing was incredible. With fabric that expensive, Blake couldn't imagine what Vicky's outfit had cost.
Bill sighed again. "Her parents must be very wealthy for her to dress so well. They must be arranging a very good marriage for her."
Blake stared at Bill in surprise. Bill had some of the strangest ideas sometimes. How could anyone think that an American parent would arrange a marriage?
"She's only fourteen or fifteen, Bill. Her parents won't have marriage in mind for years, and even then they won't arrange it. She'll pick her own husband. Besides, she's the one who's rich. Her mom is a teacher and her dad works at the power plant. You can't get rich that way."
Bill looked at Blake in surprise. Blake had the strangest ideas sometimes. How could any responsible parent not arrange a proper marriage? And, how could any young girl be rich if her parents weren't? And, there was just no way that this girl could be only fourteen years old. She certainly didn't look that young to Bill.
"Justine, what happened?" Brandy asked. Justine had run past her, crying and in a panic.
Justine stood at the washbasin, holding a wet cloth over her left eye. Her normally neat appearance wasn't in evidence today. One of her sleeves was torn, her hair loose from its usually neat braid and her face was flushed. Her right eye leaked tears and she appeared to be shivering with fright.
"What is going on around here?" Barbara Monroe boomed, causing both young women to jump. "What on earth? Justine, what happened to you?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out, Mrs. Monroe," Brandy answered, "but Justine hasn't had a chance to answer me."
Barbara approached the shivering Justine and coaxed her to lower the cloth. The flesh around Justine's left eye was beginning to show some spectacular color. It was going to be a remarkable shiner.
"Who did this, Justine? Tell me. I'm going to call the police right now." Barbara was outraged. "Who ever it was is going to spend a few days in jail."
"No, please," Justine cried. "Please do not, Frau Monroe. Do not, I beg you."
"Young lady, no one is going to attack you and get away with it. Who was it?"
Justine stubbornly refused to answer, until Barbara gave up her questioning. "Brandy, I don't know what's going on, but if she won't let me call the police, why don't you take her to your house? She's in no state to work. Besides, I don't want anyone to see her this way. You'll both still get paid for today, I'll see to that. Keep her with you for the weekend, even. Maybe by Monday she'll come to her senses and turn this person in. Wait here, while I go get Reardon Miller to walk you two home."
Brandy could tell that Justine had been a little afraid to leave the building, but the presence of Mr. Miller reassured her. The walk to Brandy's house was fairly short and no one bothered the girls. The streets weren't exactly deserted, but almost everyone in the neighborhood worked, so the area was nearly empty. Once they had entered the house and locked the doors, Mr. Miller headed back to the research center.
Brandy got Justine settled on the couch in the living room and made a couple of cups of mint tea. After serving Justine, she sat down and tried to organize her thoughts.
Brandy looked over at Justine, who sat quietly and seemed to be beginning to relax. "Who did this?"
Justine began crying quietly. Brandy was dismayed at how quickly the tears began. "Justine, just tell me. I'm not going to call the cops. I just want to know so we can stay away from whoever did it."
Justine seemed to calm down and finally began to speak. "It was Arend. He was the man I would marry, if Magdeburg had not been destroyed, if we had stayed at home. My father, he brought him with us, when we fled. He has gone mad, Brandy. He did this when I told him I must come to work. He screamed that I have helped to destroy him, and that I am becoming too much like the Americans. He screamed that he would kill me, if I did not stop."
Brandy could tell that this wasn't the whole story. Her own experience left her feeling that Justine was leaving out a lot of details.
"What else did he do? This isn't all of it, Justine."
Justine couldn't answer at first, she was crying so hard. "Henning, he does not know. Arend, when we ran from the city, he . . . he . . ."
"He got you alone, when your brother and your father were doing something else, and he raped you, didn't he?"
Justine wept hysterically and it seemed a long while before she was able to speak.
"I have been so afraid. Arend swore to me that he would kill me if I told of this. He was to be my husband, he said, and I must obey. Mein brudder, Henning, Arend, he would kill him, too. Arend, he is mad. I fear to tell Henning. Arend will kill him and I will have no one. I do not want to be alone in the world. We have no home, no money, and now I am . . ."
When Justine shuddered to a halt, Brandy knew what words she had been unable to speak. "No, Justine. You are not spoiled. You are not ruined. It wasn't your fault, and you didn't deserve it," Brandy asserted. "No matter what you think, no matter what he said, that much just isn't true."
"You do not understand . . . You do not. I feel so . . ."
Brandy's own tears started rolling down her face. "Dirty. You feel dirty and ashamed and you don't think you'll ever be clean again. You feel so dirty that you can't imagine ever being worth anything to anyone. Not even to yourself."
Justine's eyes widened in shock as she looked into Brandy's eyes, and understood what she saw there. "You! It happened also to you?"
"Oh, yes, Justine," Brandy said. "It happened to me, and I don't even have the excuse that I was running from soldiers. I deliberately went somewhere I wasn't supposed to go and was doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing . . ."
"Like at a certain frat party, with a certain young man I told you to stay away from, maybe?" Donna knew she should have kept quiet. She hadn't been able to stop the words. Both young women stopped talking, exactly what Donna didn't want.
"How long have you been standing there, Mom?"
"Long enough, Brandy, long enough," Donna admitted as she walked into the room. "You two were so intent that I guess you didn't hear me come in. I've thought for years now that something must have happened to you and that whatever it was, it had to be pretty ugly. You just wouldn't tell me and I wasn't sure what to do except wait. Go on, finish your story," she continued, as she sat down and put her arms around her daughter. "Get it out."
"I don't know all of it, Mom. I think he slipped me some kind of drug, maybe. I have flashes of memory, sort of pictures in my head." Donna held her daughter tightly as Brandy started shaking. "They're awful. He did things, things that make me sick to think of. I couldn't talk about it. What would you have thought of me, if I told you? What would anybody think?"
All three women were crying, and talking at once. In Brandy's case, years of poisonous thoughts, self-recriminations, fears of betrayal and discovery poured out. For Justine, it was months, but the feelings of degradation weren't limited by the time. Eventually, the emotional storm began to wear down. Gradually, over a space of time, the weeping diminished. Finally, Donna stood and shook herself into some kind of order.
"Okay, you two. It's out. You can go on with life and we can make it better. There's not a thing we can do to the man who hurt Brandy, Justine, but there is something that can be done about this Arend person. You need to tell your brother."
"Mein Gott, Henning! It is so late, he will be worried. I must go. He does not know where I am. He was to meet me after the work, and I am not there."
The knock on the door startled everyone. Donna was relieved to find Blake Haggerty standing on the porch, along with another young man in an MP uniform. Behind them stood another man who, judging from his looks, could only be Henning Drugen, Justine's brother.
"Mrs. Bates, do you know where Brandy is? We were passing the research center and found Henning here going a little crazy trying to find his sister. Mr. Reardon said that Miss Drugen might still be with Brandy."
"They're both here, Blake. Gentlemen, come in," Donna answered. "There's a bit of a problem, and you're just the people we need to see."
Mary Emerson smiled as Gannon sat down at the dinner table. For a change, all four of her family would have a chance to talk over dinner. The last two years had been incredibly hectic. Between Gannon working the "B" shift, her own work at the library, young David's birth, and the Ring of Fire, Mary sometimes felt like she had lost touch with her family.
