The Grantville Gazette - Volume 4 Part 31

him without thought. Her steps sounded as she walked around in front of him, and he looked away.

"Franz, look at me." He did, seeing the tears trickling down her face again, and looked away again

quickly. "No, look at me." He did, swallowing.

"You look me in the eyes, and tell me that you don't love me, and I'll walk away. But until you do that, we're going to stand right here."

Despite her command, he looked down at his feet. "I . . . love you," he whispered.

"Then why-?" she started exasperatedly.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed his left hand from his pocket and thrust it in her face. She stepped back, startled, as he

snarled, "Because of this! Because I am crippled! I cannot hope for you or anyone to marry me. Your family would not allow it. I cannot support you. I cannot provide for a family, when all I can do is translate for one person here today, another person there on Thursday, or write two letters for someone next Monday. I cannot give you what you deserve, a husband sound in mind and body. I cannot protect you from the ridicule that people will heap on you for marrying a cripple! I love you more than my life, Marla, and because of that I cannot do this!"

She smiled, and said, "Oh, is that all?"Franz was taken aback. "Is that all? Is that not enough?""No," she laughed. "I was afraid there was something seriously wrong."She took his crippled hand in both of hers, and said, "Franz, you're still wrestling with the trauma-"He looked at her quizzically."Okay, you don't know that word. You're still wrestling with the damaging mental effects from when your hand was shattered. You're dealing with anger, and grief, and bitterness, and finding out that bargaining with G.o.d doesn't work, and you're not able to see some things realistically because of that.

Believe me, we in Grantville know all about this, me in particular. Trust me, no one whose opinion matters considers you less than a man, less than a whole person, because of what happened to you. In fact, a lot of people, me included, admire your courage."

Courageous, him?

"And besides, Doc Nichols called me a she-lion, Aunt Susan called me a bear. What do you think I'm going to do to anyone who bad-mouths you?" She looked at him expectantly, and grinned in response as the corners of his mouth turned up.

"Franz," she continued more soberly, "we can find a way to make it work. If Grantville and Mike Stearns can remake Europe, then surely you and I can make a life together." She took his hands in hers again. "I ask you again, do you love me?"

"With all my heart," he said, his voice shaking.

"And you won't give me any more foolishness about your hand?"

"No," he told her, his voice stronger.

"Good." She hugged him and kissed his nose. "Now, it's dark and cold out, and after making me cry

twice tonight you owe me a cup of coffee. Let's get to the Gardens."

They walked together hand in hand, his left in her right, contentedly. As they turned up the final walk, he said, "Marla?"

"Hmm?"

"If your name is Kristen Marlena, why do you say your name is Marla?"

She laughed. "I haven't gone by Kristen since the third grade. There was another girl in the same grade

but a different cla.s.s who was Kristin. Her name was spelled slightly differently, but sounded the same.

She was a bully, and first she picked on me all the time saying I was stupid because I didn't spell my name like hers. Then she started calling me Kristin Junior, and trying to make me follow her orders during recess. So, I got sick of that name pretty quickly, but I didn't like Marlena either. According to Mom, Dad liked this German actress from old movies, so when they couldn't decide on a middle name for me, he suggested that one and it stuck. I told her, 'Gee, thanks.' Anyway, you remember the comics I showed you that my brother Paul used to have?"

He nodded.

"Well, at the time there was this one superhero comic book that had a strong female character in it named Marla. He started calling me that, and after he showed me the comic, I thought it was cool, so I started calling me that, too. Mom and Dad caved in pretty quickly. It took a couple of years for it to stick at school, though. I don't know how many times I got sent to the office for telling teachers, 'Call me Marla!' It wasn't until junior high that Mom was finally able to convince the teachers and princ.i.p.als that she wanted them to call me Marla even though that wasn't what was on my birth certificate. Mom was

cool like that. And ironically enough, the cause of it all moved away from Grantville after fourth grade. I could have gone back to Kristen, but I liked Marla better. Marla it stayed."

"So, a name chosen and not bestowed. Appropriate for you, I would say."

She stared over at him suspiciously, making sure that he wasn't being sarcastic. He smiled back blandly

as they walked through the door of the Gardens.

No sooner had they entered than a voice yelled, "Franz!"

Recognizing a voice from his past, he spun, looking for a familiar face. "Friedrich!"

A young man jumped up from a nearby table so quickly that his chair fell over backwards. Franz hurried

to meet him, and they embraced in the aisle between tables, exclaiming loudly, pus.h.i.+ng back for a moment to hold each other at arm's length, then embracing again in a ferocious hug. Franz literally picked his shorter friend up, then dropped him back on the floor and turned to the rest of the people at the table.

"Anna, it is good to see you!" She held her hands out, and as he took them she pulled him forward.

"Lean down, you oaf." He did so, and she stood on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek.

Next, the older man at the table received Franz's attention as he stood up straight and held out his hand.

"Master Riebeck, I do not understand why you are here, but I am very happy that you are."

The gray-haired man shook his hand heartily, peering up at him and said, "These young ones said they would go. Old heads were needed, I said, so I come also."

"Even so, sir, thank you for coming."

Finally Franz turned to another young man of about his own age, one even taller than he was, thin but

not gawky, and embraced him also. "Thomas, I knew you would come, even if the others did not. I knew

the scent of new music would draw you like a starving hound."

"And draw me it did," Thomas rumbled in a full ba.s.so, face split by a large grin. "I hold you to your promise to show me all of the music from the future."

"Franz?" he heard from behind him. He turned and held out his hand to Marla. "Marla, here are most of my best friends from my old life, from the days before I left Mainz." He drew her up level with him, and said, "First, here are Friedrich and Anna Braun. You've heard me speak of them, my dearest friends.

They are why I am alive today."

They smiled and nodded together. Friedrich was shorter than Franz, shorter than Marla as well, and

Anna was just this side of tiny.

"Next, here is Master Hans Riebeck, Anna's father and Friedrich's craft master, maker of fine musical instruments." A distinguished looking older man, longish silver hair swept back, a short square-cut beard and faded blue eyes looking out from under bushy eyebrows nodded in turn.

"And finally, this human pikestaff is Thomas Schwarzberg, another good friend who stood by me in dark days." Thomas grinned and bobbed his head at her. Although unusual for a down-timer, he was taller than Marla, with an unruly shock of dark brown hair.

"Everyone, this is Kristen Marlena Linder-off!" Her elbow took him under the ribs. They took in the sight of a tallish, well-made young woman with long black hair, high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes that at the moment seemed to be dancing.

"Call me Marla, please."

"Please, come sit with us," Friedrich said. They busied themselves with taking coats off, pulling other chairs over to their table and waving at the server, who came over to take their orders. In moments,

Marla had a cup of steaming coffee and Franz a mug of beer in front of them, and everyone settled in.

There was a moment or two of awkward silence, which Master Riebeck broke.

He had been peering very closely at Marla ever since the introductions had begun. Now he sat back with

a satisfied smile on his face and said something in German.

"Your pardon," Franz said quickly, "but as a courtesy to Marla, I ask that we all speak English tonight.

She is learning German, but it is not easy for her yet."

"Of course," Master Riebeck said, and the others muttered agreement. He continued, "I said, now I

understand."

"Understand what, Papa?" Anna asked.

"Ever since the letter from Franz you read to me, I wondered. The letter, it was Franz und it was not

Franz. No anger, no bitter, no hurt was in it. We come here, und I see Franz, Franz mit joy in face, Franz with shadow gone from eyes. I wondered. Now I understand. You, young woman," he said, pointing at Marla, "you ist the reason. Compa.s.sion I see in your face. By G.o.d's grace, you bring healing to our Franz."

Marla blushed, looking down. Franz took her hand, and she smiled up at him, then turned to Master

Hans and said, "Actually, sir, we bring healing to each other."

Anna was seated on her other side, and reached over and took her other hand. "Thank you, Mistress Marla."