Racing against time
"That's a lot to take in," he says slowly.
"Yeah," I agree. "I've had time to think through everything. It hasn't all been horrible, though. It obviously did affect my brain; I think the chemicals went along my optic nerves and into the brain that way; my creativity got a big boost, I can figure things out a lot faster, and I have a photographic memory now." I frowned. "I was disappointed with that, though. I thought that if I read "501 Spanish Verbs Fully Conjugated" and a dictionary I'd be set, but all it meant that I know vocabulary. It doesn't mean that I know how to put everything together or pronounce any of it." He grins.
"I hate to ask you to clean up after making dinner, but if I get another layer on this thing, tomorrow there'll be only one more layer and the final annealing. Then you'll be set," I say, changing the subject. The smile drops off his face.
"It'll be safer the sooner I can move on," he agrees, and goes to do the dishes. I loan him my Kindle so he'd have something to do and went back to work. I barely register when he goes to bed behind the forge. Some time after midnight, I was finished, and cleaned up as usual, but this time I also take a backpack and start to separate the things I'd take with me. I pack the most expensive, hardest to find stock that I had for my work, picking through everything again to make sure I didn't regret leaving something behind. Fortunately, I only had small amounts of things and they were lightweight. I add useful things like rope, matches in a watertight container. I didn't bother with lint; I had some magnesium powder that I could use to get a fire going. I had some tools that were hard to find; it wasn't easy to find rasps and files that could work with my alloys and I took only the most important ones. Finally, I stretch, work some kinks out of my neck, and go upstairs. I pack new hygiene products, underwear and socks, two extra shirts and a pair of pants. And TP and a trowel. Water purification tablets; I had a lot left over from when I was setting up. I also had life straws and packed dry prepared food. I had a mylar blanket and emergency tent. I unearth a couple of canteens; I'd give one to Cap with a life straw, then packed some supplies for him too. I figure I'd give him a head start, then take care of my tech and set off later. If my neighbors ever found out I'd cost them so much money by hiding Cap, they'd beat me within an inch of my life. If that. I add my passport, drivers license, the cash I had on hand, the debit card for my US bank in a ziplock bag and make a note to add my cell phone, Kindle, and the flexible solar chargers on my way out. I change clothes and get a few hours of shut eye.
The next day, I don't get many neighbors, but the gossip had spread. Everybody is talking about what they'll do with the money when they found Captain America. One of the men Cap described as snooping while I was in town shows up with one of his friends, and he pokes around while people pick up their work. I take in only two repairs, things that I could do easily today before I leave. I'm just starting to think things are ok when the nosy man shoves the salad bowl in my face and demands to know what it was. He doesn't want to believe that I was trying to make something to sell, but he's reluctantly pulled away by his friend who is convinced by the wood handles. They think it's ugly and impractically large, leave it to a woman to make something so stupid. But they leave.
I fix the two pieces of work I'd accepted and leave them at the end of the work bench. I move quickly and get the final coating on the salad bowl, working as fast as I dare to get it right before cranking up the forge and leaving it to heat. It will take a little longer than an hour at the highest temperature, then I can start backing down the temperature. It will be done a little after sundown, and Cap has to leave tonight. It's getting dangerous. I had to leave too.
I had treated some leather for the straps to last longer and not stretch out, so I cut those to length. I'd have to rivet them onto the salad bowl, but there were only eight of them, two for each end, maybe five minutes work at the end. I hide my go bag near the path I want to take on my way out and put the one for Cap on the cot. He was making himself scarce in the forest until it was time.
It is the tensest afternoon I've ever spent. I remember to put my cellphone, Kindle, and chargers into my bag and had nothing to do until sun down. I keep knocking down the temperature in the forge until I could just turn it off and open the door to let it cool. The sun is going down when Cap returned. I take the bowl out early; I can handle it fine but it is still too hot for Cap. I start to rivet the leather on so he could hold his shield; it smokes a little but it would be ok. Then I hear the engine of the truck I'd fixed recently.
"Listen," I mutter as I picked up the pace. "I've got some supplies for you in a messenger bag on your cot. Get it now. They're coming." I finish just as he returned with the bag and the truck roars into my clearing. I throw a towel to Cap so he could wrap his arm and hand just as my neighbors pile out, waving flashlights and an few honest-to-God torches.