Grantville Gazette, Volume 40 by Paula Goodlett, edited by Paula Goodlett

England-Future," Shack replied.
    Shack bowed to Stephanie, while sporting a grin, and continued, "I would gather up a great multitude in the car park of yon Freedom Arches, then hold an auction. Can ye imagine—kings, earls, and Grafen made to bid against CoC 'rabble'? Ah, 'twould be entertainment!"
    The residence of Kenneth and Lynn Miller and Tenants
    Friday night
    For Tilda, shock followed shock during this, her first evening in Grantville.
    It started in the kitchen. Tilda didn't see one thing she recognized or knew how to work, though sister Louisa and Barbara Silberbach, the other tenant wife, were clearly familiar with the marvels here. Tilda wound up chopping up potatoes and a huge chunk of beef, unable to help more than that.
    Tilda's next shock was about who else was working a knife. Cooking was women's work, so of course neither Christian Töpffer nor Andreas Silberbach were helping in the kitchen. But Herr Miller, Tilda's landlord, stood two feet away from her, chopping onions.
    Seeing her questioning look, he explained, "Lynn and I made a deal a long time ago. If I want chopped onions in the beef stew, I have to pay the price." Indeed, Herr Miller's eyes were red and weeping.
    Tilda's next shock came when everyone was seated at the table and was about to eat. Herr Miller explained to Tilda that grace was said in English, then German, the prayer rotated every night, and tonight was his night and Barbara Silberbach's night to say grace. Tilda was still marveling at a woman leading a family prayer, when Barbara Silberbach said "Amen"—
    —then she and Andreas crossed themselves.
    Louisa laughed at Tilda's expression. "My sister, we aren't in Eisleben anymore," Louisa said.
    After dinner, the women cleaned up the dishes. This, no man helped with. After Frau Miller started the marvelous dishwasher, Herr Miller told Tilda, "I'm about to watch the news now. You're welcome to watch too, if you want."
    Tilda had no idea what Herr Miller was talking about, but Louisa pulled on her arm. "Come on, you'll love it. You'll find out what's going on everywhere."
    Indeed, Tilda learned about events that had happened not weeks ago, or even days ago, but earlier that day—
    ". . . In Paris, the crisis continues. Sources inside the Louvre . . ."
    ". . . Magdeburg today has cloudy skies, and has received half an inch of rain so far. Magdeburg's high temperature today was 61 degrees Fahrenheit; the low temperature was 46 degrees Fahrenheit. . . ."
    ". . . The Sackers were down by two runs when Lucas Peetz slammed a triple in the ninth inning on bases loaded, bringing three runners home. Final score: Magdeburg Sackers eight, Jena Wizards seven. . . ."
    It all was fascinating to Tilda, but it didn't affect her own life in any way. That is, until the news show was almost over, then she saw—
    "And finally, if there's one way to spot an up-timer in a crowd, it's because they all love to wear blue jeans. Blue jeans were made of denim cloth, and yesterday up-timer Stephanie Turski found a lot of unused denim in her attic. . . ."
    Tilda was amazed at what a rich, dark blue the cloth was.
    "As you can see from these pictures," the news announcer continued, "Stephanie Turski has sixteen yards of unused denim. She says she plans to sell it, as soon as she figures out how."
    ****
    As Herr Miller made the black box and the picture box go dark, he said, "I can't tell you how much I miss real blue jeans! That blue cloth from Italy just isn't the same, and it's darned expensive. Want to know what's funny, in a sad way?"
    "What?" Tilda asked.
    "You've surely heard of Gretchen Richter." At Tilda's nod, he continued, "She and her younger sister and her grandmother, and a bunch of children that Gretchen was caring for, came here. I'm not sure when, but a month, around then, after the Ring of Fire. As refugees, they were all wearing rags."
    Tilda shuddered openmouthed, imagining in horrible detail, herself wearing rags.
    Herr Miller continued,