The Grantville Gazette - Volume 4 Part 3

Brandy took a sip of her coffee and thought for a while. "This isn't going to be easy, is it, Mom? A GED? Go back to school after all this time?"

* * * "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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.s 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.