1636 The Devil's Opera (Ring of Fire) (15 page)

They shook hands, then she looped her hands through both men’s arms. “Come with us, Friedrich. I have to make a stop at the telegraph office, then we’ll go christen your words appropriately.”

They strode off down the street with Marla humming “We’re Off to See the Wizard.” Neither man understood why she started laughing after a few measures.

Chapter 19

A T & L TELEGRAPH

BEGIN: MBRG TO GVL

TO: HEATHER MASON

ADDR: TROMMLER RECORDS

FROM: MARLA LINDER

DATE: 18 DEC 1635

MESSAGE:

HAVE A ONE SONG SPECIAL YOU REALLY OUGHT TO BUY UP STOP

WILL EITHER WRECK MY CAREER OR TOP THE CHARTS STOP

ATWOOD COCHRAN WILL RECORD STOP

YOU IN OR OUT? STOP

MARLA

END

A T & L TELEGRAPH

BEGIN: MBRG TO GVL

TO: ATWOOD COCHRAN

ADDR: LOOK IT UP

FROM: MARLA LINDER

DATE: 18 DEC 1635

MESSAGE:

YEAH THIS IS ONE GOOD CAUSE STOP

PITCHED DEAL TO HEATHER AT TROMMLER STOP

EXPECT THEY WILL BUY STOP

RECORDING DATE SATURDAY JAN 19 STOP

THIS WILL BE THUMB IN THE EYE OF THE POWERS THAT BE STOP

YOU IN OR OUT? STOP

MARLA

END

Marla looked at the two telegrams the delivery boy had just left with her, and smiled.

The first one read:

A T & L TELEGRAPH

BEGIN: GVL TO MBRG

TO: FRAU MARLA LINDER

ADDR: SYLWESTERHAUS MAGDEBURG

FROM: ATWOOD COCHRAN

DATE: 19 DEC 1635

MESSAGE:

CANT PASS UP CHANCE TO JAB THUMB IN EYE STOP

IN STOP

WILL TAKE CUT OF TROMMLER DEAL STOP

ATWOOD

END

And the second:

A T & L TELEGRAPH

BEGIN: GVL TO MBRG

TO: FRAU MARLA LINDER

ADDR: SYLWESTERHAUS MAGDEBURG

FROM: HM AT TROMMLER RECORDS

DATE: 19 DEC 1635

MESSAGE:

WE ARE IN STOP

SEND DETAILS ASAP FOR CONTRACT STOP

HEATHER

END

Marla looked up at her husband.

“You are really going to do this.” Franz didn’t ask a question. He knew who he was talking to; he made a statement.

“Uh-huh.” She wrapped her arms around herself. She felt cold all of a sudden.

Franz said nothing more, but wrapped his own arms around her. She nestled in his embrace, and drew strength from him.

Part Two

January 1636

For changing people’s manners and altering their customs there is nothing better than music.

—Shu Ching

Chapter 20

A new pattern had settled in Simon’s life. He arose each morning with Hans. They would share with Ursula whatever food was in the rooms, and then Hans would leave for his work at the grain factorage. True to his word, he had asked about work for Simon, but as with so many other places, there was no opportunity for a one-handed youth.

Simon would sweep the floor and clean up after their eating, wiping the plates off and stacking them in the little cupboard that stood in the corner. Then he would settle on his stool at Ursula’s feet. She would pick up her worn Bible and read to him for a little while. Always it was something interesting, but Simon best liked the stories of the heroes from the Old Testament: King David, Joshua, the stories of the judges. Then they would talk about what she had read, wondering why the hero had done certain things and not done others, describing what they thought the characters in the stories looked like, sometimes laughing together over something silly one of them had said.

Ursula would always end the reading time by closing her Bible and putting it away, then picking up her current embroidery project. That would be the signal to Simon to go out and find what work he could.

* * *

It was a Tuesday morning after the first of the year when Ursula all of a sudden noticed something that had always been in front of her.

“Simon, are those the only clothes you have?”

He ducked his head, feeling a sense of shame.

“Well, we cannot have that. Hans…” She turned to her brother, “Hans, Simon needs clothes. His shirt is almost cobwebby thin, his pants are tight and torn and much too short, his jacket does not fit around him. Tell your crew boss today that you have to take me to market tomorrow.”

Simon discovered that although Ursula was normally the most agreeable of souls, when she chose to exert her will it was like encountering granite. It astonished him to see Hans,
Stark
Hans himself, nod his head and say, “Yes, Ursula,” as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world for her to issue commands.

And on Wednesday, the world ordered itself to Ursula’s intent. After they had eaten, she retired for a moment to her bedroom, then returned with a large bonnet on her head and wearing a coat over her dress. She stood lopsided and held her arms up in what was almost an imperious manner. Hans said nothing as he stepped up to her. There was a swirl of movement, then she was in his arms, one arm across his shoulders, the other holding her cane.

“Come along, Simon,” she directed.

Simon started when Hans nodded at the door but stepped forward to open it. Hans moved through the doorway sideways, being most careful not to bump Ursula into the doorframe. When he started down the stairs, Simon came behind, closing the door with a loud thump. He clattered down the stairs, wooden shoes banging on the treads, and caught up with them at the bottom.

“Where to, Uschi?” Hans asked.

“Frau Anna’s first. After that, we will see.”

So Hans took off down the street, Simon following close behind. Before long, he was marveling at his friend’s strength. He had seen men pick other people up before, but never for very long, and never when walking down the street, block after block. “
Stark
Hans, nothing,” he muttered. “He should be called
Eisen
Hans.” And indeed Hans seemed made of iron. There was no droop to his shoulders, no sagging of his arms. He carried Ursula as if she was only the weight of a feather.

“What did you say, Simon?” Hans called over his shoulder.

“Nothing.”

Otto Gericke’s rules for markets in Greater Magdeburg were considered liberal by the conservative bürgermeisters of Old Magdeburg. Due to the size of the population, markets were allowed three days a week, and were allowed in more than one location, such that after a while the various vendors started grouping together.

It wasn’t long today before Ursula and her entourage arrived in the area of town favored by the sellers of secondhand clothing. It was one of Simon’s favorite parts of town. People there would talk to him freely, and sometimes send him on errands.

Hans walked up to one particular cart and gently set Ursula’s feet to the ground in front of it. His sister straightened herself as best she could, adjusted her coat, and faced the proprietress.

“Frau Anna,” she said with a nod.

“Fraulein Ursula,” came the response from what had to be the oldest woman Simon had ever seen. Under her scarf her hair was pure white, the skin of her broad face sagged in a very tapestry of wrinkles, and there did not appear to be a tooth in her head. But she stood straight and her alert eyes gleamed from their nests of wrinkles like those of a cuckoo. She also had a hearty chuckle, which sounded at the next moment.

“It’s not that I’m not glad to see you,
Liebling
, but I wonder what has brought you to old Anna on this blustery day?” Simon had some trouble understanding her.

“Simon.” Ursula beckoned with her free hand. He stepped around Hans to where she could lay her hand on his shoulder. “The boy needs clothes. Two shirts, two pants, two hose, a jacket that fits, and a coat.”

Frau Anna looked Simon up and down. He straightened under her examination. “A scamp of a lad, I imagine he is.” She chuckled again, reached out a wrinkled hand and patted his cheek. He bore the soft touch without flinching, he was proud to note. “Well enough, let me see what I have.”

The old woman turned to her cart. Simon detected no rhyme or reason to the arrangement of the piles of clothes on the cart, but Anna’s hands dove into the piles like otters into a river, surfacing every now and then to drape a bundle of cloth over the cart handles. One last time they appeared, and she began handing garments to Ursula.

“Simon,” Ursula said again and pulled him around in front of her. He stood, bewildered, as she held shirts up against his back and shoulders and pants up against his waist, bending to see where they fell to. The two women muttered to each other, and Anna dove back into the cart to pull out yet another shirt. Ursula examined it with care, then nodded her approval.

Anna had a jacket for him as well, but when it came to a coat anywhere close to his size, she had nothing that a man would wear. “Sorry,
Liebling
, but I sold the last one I had not an hour before you came. But you might go down the way to old Herman’s cart. He had some the last time I saw him. Just look them over good.”

The old woman smiled, and just for a moment Simon got a glimpse of what she must have been like as a girl. That surprised him. He’d never thought before that old people had to have been his age upon a time.

“So how much?” Ursula asked. This commenced the bargaining over his new clothes. Simon listened, awe-struck, as the two women chaffered back and forth, eventually arriving at a sum that almost made him choke. It didn’t seem to bother Hans, though, when Ursula waved at him. He stepped up, pulled a handful of money from his pocket, and counted a paper bill and a pfennig and bits of broken coins until Frau Anna was satisfied.

Frau Anna folded the clothes together, then tied the bundle with a bit of twine. She held it out to Simon. It took him a moment to realize that he was supposed to take it; he had never had a package of his own to carry.

Ursula said her farewells, then turned and limped down the street, Hans at her side. Simon followed behind, as usual, and noticed as he did so that Hans was very careful not to actually grab Ursula or hold her while she was walking but still managed to be close enough to provide instant support if she needed it.

Their progress was slow, but others would make way for them. Simon suspected this had more to do with Hans glowering at people than it did people giving way out of courtesy for Ursula’s infirmity. He knew that if Hans had glowered at him, he would certainly have moved out of the way.

Ursula walked with her head held high, moving with an odd grace, despite her limp. They passed one vendor after another, from cart to ramshackle booth to oilskin laid on the ground. Several of the vendors would speak to Hans or his sister. A few nodded to Simon as well.

They stopped in front of another cart. Simon assumed this must be old Herman’s.

“Fraulein Metzger,” a man stepped up and gave a short bow. “Herr Metzger.” Hans nodded in return. Simon was ignored for the moment, which was just fine with him.

Old Herman did not look so old, at least not when he was compared with Frau Anna. His bushy beard and the hair that stuck out like a fringe from under his small hat were iron gray rather than snow white. His face wasn’t as cross-hatched with wrinkles as the old woman’s was; instead it bore deep furrows and seams. When his mouth opened, there were teeth present; not a lot, mind you, but still teeth peeped out from behind his lips. He was of middling height and of solid build despite his age.

“A coat,” Herman said after Ursula had made known the object of their quest. He peered at Simon and beckoned him to come closer. “Hmm, yes, a coat for this lad. Have I seen you around here, boy?”

“Maybe,” Simon muttered.

“Ah, well, with my memory I would not remember from one day to the next.” Herman nodded several times with vigor, then started. “A coat. Yes, indeed, a coat.” He turned and began rummaging through the piles on his cart. “No, not that one…nor that one, either…tch, definitely not that one…” Simon smiled as the old man kept up a running commentary. “Hmm…this one?” Herman held it up and stared at it, then tossed it back in the cart. “No. Keep looking.”

After a few more minutes of searching accompanied by monologue, Herman pulled an item out of the bottom of the pile. “Aha! You just thought you would escape me.” He shook it out, and it took form as a faded green coat of a size to perhaps fit Simon.

Ursula took the coat and examined it, checking the material and the seams. It passed her grudging judgment, so she held it out to Simon. “Here, try this on. Let’s see how it fits.”

Hans reached over and took the bundle of clothes from Simon, leaving him free to try the coat on. It took a few moments to get into it; sliding his right arm down the sleeve was a bit of a challenge, but with help from Hans to hold the front of the coat open he managed. He turned and faced Ursula.

“Mm-hmm.” She touched a finger to her lips as she studied him, and reached out to adjust the lapels on the front of the coat so it would hang straight. A definite nod. “I think it will do. It is a bit large, but that leaves room for growing. Not a bad thing with a boy, I am told.” She turned to Herman. “How much?”

Again the bargaining, again the back and forth, again ending in Hans pulling money from his pocket and counting it out. Simon’s head was beginning to spin. How much money they had spent, just on him! He had never dreamed of that happening. He smoothed his hand down the front of the coat, feeling the warmth it gave him.