Grantville Gazette 36

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Farewells and Beginnings

Pam's mood improved as they left the gloom of the forest behind and began the ascent into higher country. The sun was still bright but there was a cool breeze dancing across the rocks and shrubs that made the afternoon light bearable. Gerbald and Pers picked their own paths nearby. They traveled in a silence that would be up to her to break, but not just yet. She paused, looking back to see that the dodos had stopped at the edge of the forest. Apparently the open hillsides were not to their liking or maybe the long walk had tuckered out their stocky legs.

This was good-bye to the flock that Pam had gotten to know so well. They would return by a different path so the birds wouldn't follow them back to the perils of the beach. She took a long, last look, a kind of mental photograph she was sure she would never forget. In her heart she had a comforting feeling that it wouldn't really be the last time she would see these birds. Satisfied, Pam gave the dodos a smile and a farewell wave then turned away to continue her climb up the gentle slopes of Coffee Mountain. A mile or so later she looked back once more and the dodos were gone, returned to their former life hunting for nuts and grubs amongst the great trees of this innocent island paradise. Pam envied them.

Upon reaching the top, Pam opened the picnic lunch she and Dore had concocted, which included a small flask of rum to celebrate with.

"Come and get it, fellas!" she called as she lay the offerings out on a broad, flat boulder conveniently placed near the summit. They would enjoy their meal with a fabulous view. Somehow Dore had managed to bake a simple bread in her stone oven. They filled each loaf with crab meat, thinly sliced Barbel palm hearts, bamboo shoots, and a generous helping of spices and melted butter from Dore's larder. The results were delicious and Pers liked his so much that Pam gave him half of hers. The portions were more generous than she could handle anyway.

Around them the lush, green mountains of the island's interior marched away into mists in the north. To the south they could see the sapphire sparkle of the sea. They passed the flask around while enjoying the spectacular view and then lay down in the soft grass to take a short nap before gathering their coffee beans. After an hour passed, Gerbald estimated it was around three in the afternoon. It would take them at least an hour to gather their beans as well as some young trees, then they would begin the long walk home, reaching camp at dusk. Time to get back to work.

First, Pam gave Pers a lesson in coffee-bean picking. The trees bore a variety of ripe and unripe fruits, making it a bit tricky, but the youth was a quick study and was soon filling his sacks with the purple-yellow coffee beans faster than Pam and Gerbald could. Seeing his rapid progress, they turned their attention to bringing some young trees back alive. Gerbald had brought along a short spade from the Redbird's tool-chest, which made the work go fairly fast. They placed the roots in moist canvas sacks surrounded by their native soil then wrapped the leaves in sailcloth to make the bundle easy to carry down the narrow forest trails.

With all their bags and pockets once again bulging with beans they began the walk home.

"Ugh. This stuff is heavier than I remember it." Pam groaned. Her shoulders already ached from the unaccustomed weight in her rucksack.

"Well, you were about out of your mind with joy last time," Gerbald reminded her. "That must have made the burden feel lighter."

"Now I think I'm just out of my mind," Pam muttered darkly.

"Yes, I recall you pranced down the mountain like an alpine goat in spring." Gerbald chuckled, stifling a groan of his own at his heavy share of the burden. "I'm sure you will find it all worthwhile again, months from now when you still have coffee to drink," he added, trying to sound encouraging.

"Here, Frau Pam, allow me to take some of this." Pers came beside her, reaching for the extra sacks she carried draped over her shoulders.

"Naw, come on, I loaded you up like a pack mule, Pers. You're already carrying a lot more than your share, even taking the age difference into account. I know how strong you are but I don't want you to get injured."

Pers grinned and took the sacks from her anyway, ignoring her protests. "Nonsense! This is nothing compared to the tortures the bosun has put me through. Believe me, as far as I am concerned, this is still a 'light duty'!"

Pam gave him a grateful smile. "Well, at least it's all downhill from here," she said as brightly as she could manage. Pers stepped into the lead, walking with a spring in his stride that belied the many pounds of coffee he carried.

Gerbald and Pam looked at each other, silently admitting that they were both already tired and had a long way to go yet.

"Youth. If only there was a way to steal it from the young," Gerbald said as they watched Pers scamper down the trail. With a tandem sigh they followed, placing one well-worn boot in front of the other.

Just before sunset they were back on the familiar trails near the beach camp with less than half a mile to go. They paused again at the rise they had observed the ship from that morning to watch the sun go down. The junk now lay at anchor on the high tide, once again resembling a fanciful toy more than a real ship, its bright colors darkened to deeper eldritch hues in the evening glow. Lanterns were lit one by one. Pam thought she could hear the quiet murmur of the men on deck in the evening hush. As twilight surrounded them, Gerbald started walking again and Pam began to follow. After a minute she realized that Pers was still standing on the rise, his head hanging low and his face long in the dim purple light.

Pam tapped Gerbald on the back, speaking to him in a low whisper. "Hey, something's wrong with the kid. I knew something was bugging him this morning, he put on a brave face all day but now . . . I'm going to stay and talk with him. Do you want to join me?"

"Hmmm. I know he looks up to me, which is very flattering, but I also know sometimes a young man needs the comfort of a woman instead of a man. Lord knows when last he saw his mother, or if he ever has. Go see what's troubling him, Pam. It would be good for him." He carefully didn't add and for you, but he certainly thought it as he started walking again. The last mile was easy even in the dark, but he would wait in the brush below the rise until they passed, then follow them back, just in case. The bodyguard's job is never done. He smiled with satisfaction despite his earnest wish to be back to camp and put to bed.

Pam walked back up the rise and over to Pers. He saw her and started to walk again but she motioned for him to stop. He was trying to look cheerful for her, but she could see plainly even in the remaining light that he was troubled. "All right, you can't kid a kidder, pal, so tell me what's wrong." Pam gave him her best sympathetic smile.

Pers smiled back, but his brow was still downcast. "Well, it's nothing really . . ." Pam waited, continuing to smile encouragingly. Seeing that there was no escape, the young man continued.

"Well, I shall have to tell you a little about me. My parents were poor farmers on the coast near Norway and, already having several sons, they sent me off to sea when I was but nine."

"Just nine! Jesus!" Pam was appalled but had heard far worse since her arrival in the 1630s.

"Please don't think badly of them. They could barely feed us all. Besides, I was glad to go. I wanted to leave that stupid village and see the world! The work turned out to be harder than I thought, but the men usually treated me kindly. It's just that life on a ship, well, the faces change and once you get to know someone they die, like old Fritjof, or move on to another ship . . ." He stalled for a moment but Pam nodded her understanding, signaling for him to go on.

"My dreams have changed. I've seen a lot of the world. You may be surprised how much. I want a home now, to stop traveling, to get to know a place. And the truth is, even though we got stuck here against our will, this is the first time since I was that boy of nine that I've lived in a home instead of a ship, here on this island with all of you. And now we are all leaving . . ."

Pers was struggling to keep smiling but Pam could see he was very upset. She took his hand carefully, afraid the simple act might make him lose his composure and start crying, a terrible thing to have happen when you were a proud youth becoming a man.

"Pers, I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt this way. I want you to know I completely understand. When Grantville came through time I was all alone. Like I told you earlier, I was divorced, so no husband. I still had my son but he doesn't like me much anymore. If I hadn't met Gerbald and Dore, I don't know what would have become of me. Well, I'd probably be living as a shut-in and weigh fifty pounds more than I do! At least until my supply of bonbons ran out. Anyway, everybody needs a home sometimes, and they gave me that."

She paused, trying to gauge the young man, trying to see if what she wanted to say would be the right thing, the thing Pers needed and wanted. She had all his attention, and knew that he looked up to her far more than she had realized. Well, you have never been Miss Congeniality, that's for sure. She took a deep breath and placed a hand on Pers' wide shoulder.

"Pers, I'm sorry I didn't see how strongly you felt sooner. I want you to know that you will always have a home with me if you wish it. You have been my very special friend all through this voyage, proving your love and loyalty a hundred times over. I have already come to think of you as another son. I swear to you it's true! When that pirate was beating you, that was what made me mad enough to shoot. He was hurting my boy! In my heart you are my boy, you've earned your place! Whatever you want, I will make it happen for you. If you want to go to school, I will see to it. If you want to work with me, I will have a place for you. If you were to think of me as family, why, it would make me very proud." Now it was Pam who was in danger of tears. The hope dawning on Pers' face, still a boy as much as a man, made her heart beat double time.

Pers stuttered a bit and then in a small child's voice said, "I'd like that very much, if you will have me. I would very much like to have a mother again."

"Awww, come here, kid." With that she grabbed Pers, who was a good two feet taller than her, and gave him a bear hug. "Let old Pam be your momma. I'll try my best, but I'll warn you I'm not always too good at it. I'm not sure where all this is going from here but you just stick with me, we'll figure it out together, all right, son?"

Pam could feel Pers shaking. He was weeping now, but she could tell from the vibration that these were good tears, the tears of relief and discovered joy. She joined right in and they stood there for a while, a mother and son, which to Pam's great pride she knew they had become, not by blood but in all the ways that really mattered. After a time Pam stepped gently back from the embrace to look at the bright, lovely youth who had entered her life. She patted him gently on the cheek.

"Don't worry, Pers. I won't tell anybody what a sweet kid you are. They already know anyway. Now, let's go home. I'm so hungry I could eat coconut crab curry, heigh-ho!"

"Yes, ma'am . . . er . . . Mom!" He gave her a snappy salute, his usual grin back in place and grown a size bigger.