Eric Flint: Grantville Gazette.Volume VII

"Well, it's a cinch real estate's going to be just a bit more difficult to come by. Building materials are going to be just a bit more expensive as well. You planning on providing materials for the construction boom once it gets going?"

"We've got plenty of trees-maple, oak, ash, pine and other timber. We've never had any of those hillsides cut. I never liked the looks of the timber-cutters who came around. After the first one visited us, I checked out recommended timber-cutting best practices on the Internet. Then I started asking questions. Not a single one ever heard of a contract. So I said no thanks. Now we're going to have a lot of scrub trees and tree limbs for fireplace wood as well as logs for construction."

Chad took a sip from his glass. "Sounds good, I suppose. Doesn't get my blood pumping any more than selling auto parts does."

"Oh, I didn't figure it would." Debbie stood and stretched. "We can hire someone to oversee the day to day operation but you should be there to watch. To see everything is done to conserve the land. They won't pay attention to me. Anyway, there's no way I'm going to hike into the woods to supervise a timber crew. You, well, you ran the dealership garage as well as the sales room."

Chad nodded. It was a plan, at least. "Okay. Damn! I just had a thought. Where are they going to get the gas for the chain saws? Come to that, how are they going to haul the wood out of the woods?"

"The old fashioned way, I suppose. There's bound to be a few of those big two-man saws and buck saws rusting in barns and garages.. . not to mention axes. You can probably hire some of our unemployed tenants to do the work."

"Horses." Chad frowned. "Might be able to get tractors but we'll probably have to buy or rent draft horses or oxen to haul out wagons filled with firewood and the logs. Think your dad has any old horse collars lying about the barn? He's bound to have some saws from your grandfather's day. We can find farm wagons easily enough. Heck, just a few built-up wheeled axles with a tongue welded on. Won't even need to have tires, just the rims. Next question is, does Denny's Lumber still have its own sawmill?"

Debbie shook her head. "No. But I'm certain all the parts are there somewhere. Nathan never threw away anything. Thank God we got the electricity back. That'll power the sawmills."

"Well, looks like I've got something to keep me busy for a while. You can do the rentals and help the refugees with the other gals."

Debbie glanced over at him. "Um… it's a bit more than just helping. I got elected chairwoman."

Chad sighed. Every time she became a chairwoman, it cost him money.

The dealership had to pay its mechanics to take apart the cars and trucks so Chad joined in to save on labor costs. He received strange looks the day he came into work wearing coveralls. He shrugged and gave a twisted smile. "Times are hard and money's tight." They all nodded with rueful grins. They'd been there.

Two days later, after completely disassembling three cars, Bob Szymanski, Chad's lead mechanic stood up and put down his wrench with deliberation. "This is stupid."

"Huh?" Chad asked.

"Why are we taking these cars apart?"

"Because we don't have any gas."

Bob put his tongue to the side of his cheek and shook his head with a teasing smile. "Uh-uh. We don't have gasoline. We do have gas."

Chad stood slowly. For minutes his face contorted as he thought. "Using barbecue grill gas tanks?" he asked with wry smile.

"I made a couple of gas-powered cars using kits when I was still in high school. We can compress the local gas. You ready to assume the position?"

Chad nodded and Bob gave a shrill whistle. All the other mechanics gleefully surrounded the two men. Chad stood for the traditional reward for Jenkins management stupidity, a practice started by his father. Whack! Bob delivered the dope slap to the back of Chad's head.

"Okay, guys. New orders. Bob, you're in charge of engine conversions. We'll work together on the pricing. Automobile or power units. I want each of you guys to do your own cars and then drive around town. Wait. Buy a lot of pressure tanks and their connections first. That's what's going to limit production. Cars are everywhere but not pressure tanks. When they're gone, we're out of that business. Okay?"

"What are we going to use for money to buy them, Chad?"

He grimaced. "I hope you guys like eating beans more than I do. We're going to have a couple tough months before things turn around."

"I'm telling you, Denny, there just ain't enough logs coming in right now to keep that many guys hanging around." Donnie Lee Swiger was arguing with Denny Reilly who was in the midst of setting up a sawmill for his lumber yard. Donnie Lee stopped talking when he saw Chad walk into the pole barn. "Oh, hi, Chad."

"Hi, Donnie Lee, hi, Denny. How's it going?" Chad had only a nodding acquaintance with Denny, who'd bought his last car from Trumble and was originally from Bluefield.

"Fine, fine." A dozen years older than Chad, Denny spoke with confidence. "Getting the sawmill set up. I figure we're going to need it. Found a couple torn up blades and one good one from back before the lumber company started buying dimensional lumber. We'll be ready for business in a week. You planning on some new construction?"

"Not just yet. What with my stock in trade being rendered useless for the time being, I figured I might cut a little of my timber. Just me and a couple of my tenants. I figure a log or two a day, maybe less." Chad leaned back against a steel beam, vaguely wishing he'd taken up tobacco chewing. The good old boys always had a chaw or a whittling knife when they started talking business. Gave them something to do while thinking. The one with the most patience usually got the better deal.

He didn't bother to look at the avaricious gleam in Denny's eyes. Donnie Lee was behind Denny, grinning like a cat watching a mouse approaching a piece of tempting cheese. Chad had been selling cars to Donnie Lee since he got out of the Army. While Denny might know a lot about the lumber business, Donnie Lee knew he had a lot to learn about mano-a-mano dealing with Chad.

"Now that's interesting," Denny countered. "I reckon we could buy anything you cut. In fact, we could probably throw in kiln-drying any lumber you want to keep for yourself. Good, stable wood, won't split on you."

"Sounds good." Chad shrugged. "I figure I'd just cut enough to cover expenses until my rentals start producing a decent cash flow again. Most of them gotta get new jobs. Those who were inside the Ring of Fire. It was a nice day so some of my tenants were out of town."

"Sorry to hear that. Sort of. I guess they're happy that they're back in their time rather than disappearing like us. You know, you might have to do timber-cutting longer than you think, what with all your empty or non-paying rentals. Here's what I was thinking…"

It took four hours of hard negotiating but Denny finally "persuaded" Chad to go into the timber-cutting business in a big way, even financing two weeks pay for the lumber crew, just until they got their first payment for the logs from Denny. As was his custom, Chad deliberately left some money on the table for Denny, knowing that pigs get fat and hogs get butchered. Just like the car business, this wasn't a one-time deal.

Late February, 1632

The trouble at the Refugee Center erupted quickly. Two women were flailing at each other, pulling hair, kicking and using their fists. Fights between women cooped up in the old high school gym during winter weather were nothing new to Debbie. She and two of her assistants ran over to break it up.

One woman was far more vicious than the other. Debbie grabbed her from behind. The woman pulled back her arm and her elbow collided with Debbie's right eye socket. Debbie hung onto the woman as she tried to twist and squirm away from Debbie's assistants to attack her opponent again.