GNELFS Read online

  GNELFS

  By Sidney Williams

  First Digital Edition published by Crossroad Press & Macabre Ink Digital

  Reconstructed from scans by David Dodd and edited for this edition by the author.

  Copyright 2010 by Sidney Williams

  LICENSE NOTES:

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return the vendor of your choice and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  OTHER CROSSROAD PRESS TITLES BY SIDNEY WILLIAMS:

  NOVELS:

  Gnelfs

  Blood Hunter

  As Michael August:

  Deadly Delivery

  The Gift

  COLLECTIONS:

  Scars and Candy – Tales of Terror & Dark Mystery

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  For Ann,

  who rescued me from the slush pile.

  Chapter 1

  Heaven's scream pierced the night, cutting like a razor through Gabrielle's REM sleep.

  Throwing back the covers, Gabrielle jumped from bed and thundered down the hallway. A thousand horrible things flashed through her mind as the short corridor seemed to stretch on for eternity. Her legs moved in slow motion, feet bogging in the carpet. It was impossible to lift them fast enough. She felt the beat of her heart in her throat, and another cry pierced the midnight darkness.

  "Mommieeeeee."

  Her nightgown fluttered as she ran, and she imagined its resistance slowing her, cutting away precious seconds that might mean the difference between her daughter's life and death. Why had she let her sleep in her own room? There was no reason for that now. If Heaven had been only the space of a bed away instead of at the end of the hall there would be no need to run a gauntlet to her rescue.

  If Gabrielle could provide a rescue. What if some child molester or other criminal had somehow found a way into the room? Gab had no weapon, no means of defense. She would have to throw herself on the attacker in an effort to drag him away from her baby.

  With lungs heaving and heart accelerating like a racing car, she reached the bedroom doorway and shoved the door, sending it crashing against the wall. Her hand scratched up the Sheetrock, fumbling for the light switch. A sudden white blaze flooded the room as Gab dashed toward the small canopied bed.

  The child sat at the head of it, huddling between the pillows and clutching the covers about her like a shield. Even her snow white teddy bear had been discarded in her fear. He lay at the edge of the bed, head precariously dipping over the side of the mattress.

  Tears streamed down the four-year-old's—five in another month—cheeks, and as Gabrielle embraced her, she felt the child's body tremble.

  "What's wrong, honey?" She whispered gently, rocking slightly as she pressed Heaven against her. "I'm here. Mommy's here. Are you hurt?"

  "They wanted to get me, Mommy?"

  "Who?" Gab's eyes turned quickly to the window, but it was closed and the latch was in place. A quick glance around the room revealed no signs of intrusion elsewhere.

  "The Gnelfs," Heaven sobbed. "Gnelf Master and his people. They had pitchforks and things."

  Gabrielle cradled her daughter in her arms, gently touching her hair. She wanted to laugh as relief swept over her. Her heart slowed, her lungs relaxed, and the tingling fear that had danced through her entire body like an electrical charge subsided.

  A dream, Heaven had had a bad dream, nothing more. No one had come to harm her, no intruder had threatened to take her innocence with twisted assaults.

  "It's okay, baby," she soothed. "You had a nightmare. That's all. The Gnelfs are your friends."

  The bedtime story, evidently the last thing on Heaven's mind, had mingled with the second helping of spaghetti she had demanded at supper, and had turned into a horror show.

  The friendly nomadic band of the half-gnome/half-elf figures known as Gnelfs—soft g and silent as Gab kept pointing out to Heaven—had changed from beloved childhood figures to creatures of terror.

  Having her afraid of them wouldn't be all bad, though, Gab thought. The merchandising connected with the popular cartoon was enough to give any single parent nightmares. Stuffed animals, toys, story books, cereals—the whole gamut of tempting items lurked on the store shelves. If Heaven was afraid of them, a fortune could be saved. Aware that it was a cruel thought, Gabrielle dismissed it as she continued to soothe her trembling child.

  She couldn't be so selfish as to wish her baby to fear beloved heroes. They were part of childhood! Besides, the stories and cartoons soothed Heaven, and had helped in the last year, Gab hoped, to take her mind off the absence of her father.

  In any case, if it wasn't Gnelfs, it would be something equally costly like Rainbow Brite or the Teenage Mutant Ninja . . . whatever they were.

  Merchandised toys were just a part of childhood nowadays, and Gab wanted Heaven to have as normal a young life as possible.

  ~*~

  When Heaven was at last asleep again, Gabrielle headed back to her own room with the Gnelfland Bedtime Storybook tucked under her arm so that her daughter wouldn't wake up and see the cover. She'd expected to let the child sleep with her the rest of the night, but moving Heaven would only wake her again, better to let her rest alone than risk not getting her back to sleep.

  After smoothing the covers over the child, she had also stashed the stuffed Gnelfs behind the other animals on the toy shelf so Heaven wouldn't roll over and find them glaring at her through the shadows. With luck, the last few hours of the night would be peaceful.

  She looked at the book as she walked along the hallway. It wasn't inconceivable that the figures could be frightening to a child. They were green with pointed features and sharp eyebrows. The eyebrows were enough.

  Mr. Spock had been frightening to her, even though he was the good guy. Some of the artwork in the book was rather dark in nature, also. The Gnelfs wandered through ancient lands and visited odd kingdoms. Their images didn't compare with those of Maurice Sendak—they were more commercialized than that—but they did reflect the newer trends Gab was noticing in children's literature. But hadn't things always been that way? When had they made Fantasia?

  Well, if the images continued to be a problem, they'd just have to find something else for entertainment. It wouldn't be too hard to find Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. She walked into her own room and put the storybook aside.

  The bed looked soft and comfortable, but the fear of her daughter being in peril had rattled her so badly she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep for a while. She turned on the light on her dressing table, then sat down in front of the mirror to brush her hair. She didn't want to bother doing that in the morning while trying to get Heaven ready and then make it to the office on time.

  Once she had taken great care with her dark brown hair, curling it just right with the hot irons. Now she allowed a more unkempt style. She figured there was an outside chance it was attractive that way. By neglect, she had achieved the look teenagers worked so hard for.

  As she pulled at the tangles, she went through her regular ritual of checking for wrinkles. She was twenty-nine, still slender, except for a little poundage around the hips that couldn't be helped. Her breasts also were a bit heavier than she would have liked, although some would argue that was no flaw.
<
br />   Things like those faint lines beside her eyes made her aware of how rapidly years passed. And Heaven was no longer a baby. It seemed to have taken Gabrielle no time to become a mother, then a divorcee and career woman.

  Yet not so long ago she had been in college, falling in love with Dave.

  It had all passed faster than a television commercial break, including the experience with Martin last spring, something she had chalked up to her vulnerability.

  Dave had not been a bad man, and he had not been a bad husband, but after a time they had realized they were not right for each other. Their interests, their ways of approaching things, even their ways of thinking were different. While many marriages survived such problems, they had decided to move on. He had not wanted to let go, not even when he had realized it was over, but finally he had accepted reality with limited bitterness.

  His work had recently taken him out to the West Coast to a better job. He wrote infrequently and sent Heaven cards, but he didn't seem terribly disturbed about the distance. In a way it was almost as if he had never existed, yet Heaven had his blond hair and blue eyes as reminders.

  It had been hard the first few months, not just recovering from the feeling of amputation divorce created but getting on her feet again. Finding a decent house to rent at a reasonable cost had seemed impossible. She'd also had to switch jobs. While she was married she had worked for a small commercial art company, but the pay wasn't enough to get by on, not on her own. No alimony was part of the agreement, and the child support Dave did contribute came erratically, so she couldn't continue earning something akin to minimum wage just because she enjoyed what she was doing.

  In addition to working in the shop, she'd been doing the bookkeeping, putting her college business classes to work, so it hadn't been that hard to make the move over to an accounting firm. Working with payrolls and doing audits didn't have a great deal of appeal for her. She'd wanted to major in English, but her father had warned her about the impracticality of such a degree and she'd wound up in business, struggling through endless hours of economics and management classes.

  She'd applied herself and learned the material well, and now, at least from a food-on-the-table standpoint, it was proving useful. Even if she couldn't say she loved her work, it did allow her to keep Heaven in nice clothes and faddish lunchboxes. What more could she ask?

  Maybe there was supposed to be more in life, but she wasn't sure. Love and romance hadn't worked out, yet she had been rewarded for the attempt with Heaven. She could not imagine life without her little girl.

  Heaven had been like a little doll at first, something she could dress up and plan for, a tiny little creature for her to nurture. Watching her daughter grow, watching her learn, had been fabulous.

  Heaven was always surprising Gabrielle. Her impressions of things, her ideas, her knowledge always seemed to exceed what Gab expected. Television was responsible for some of it, and Heaven had picked up a great deal in play school as well.

  She could already recite the alphabet, and would probably rival some first graders in comprehension. Kindergarten should be no problem for her when she started in the fall.

  Not intellectually at least. She had a few problems on the social level. That blond hair and those blue eyes were already drawing catty remarks from the other little girls. Gabrielle had never known such things started so early.

  She hadn't been beautiful as a child and had never given much thought to beauty being a problem, but apparently it could.

  Perhaps the pressures exerted by the other children were related to the nightmare. The band of Gnelfs might represent Heaven's anxiety about classmates who supposedly were friends but who exhibited contradictory behavior.

  Gab put down her brush. Thank you, Mrs. Jung. If the nightmares continued she might have to look into a checkup for Heaven, but that would wait. There was always the possibility things would get better on their own. They usually didn't, but one could always hope.

  ~*~

  By morning, all seemed well again. Sunlight streamed in, bringing April’s bright glow, and the day began with the typical Wednesday routine.

  The alarm buzzed at six, and Gab dragged herself from beneath the covers and padded down the hall to rouse a reluctant Heaven, who had apparently dozed soundly for the remainder of the night. Rubbing her eyes, Heaven moved from her room and into the small bathroom at the end of the hall, making no mention of Gnelfs.

  Good enough, Gab decided. Trusting the child to take care of the basic preparations for school, she moved into the kitchen and began breakfast.

  Neither of them had a stomach for much in the morning, but she always insisted Heaven have something to carry her through the day. Chex cereal was the compromise.

  Gab always managed to put down her frequent demand for the highly advertised cereals, those with high sugar and marshmallow content. Once in a while she allowed Frosted Flakes, but most of the time that box was kept hidden in the pantry.

  Again no mention was made of the Gnelfs when Heaven came to the table. Gab watched her carefully, and asked her a few questions. The child's responses were routine.

  The small portable television Dave had bought for Heaven sat on the kitchen counter. Most mornings she asked that it be turned on, but not today. Gab didn't remind her. Gnelfs were available on early morning TV, as were other creatures such as talking dinosaurs. Gab had no way of determining what was frightening to children.

  She tried to protect Heaven from Freddy Kruger ads, but her daughter seemed to know about werewolves and their ilk. Somehow kids learned about those things, though so far Heaven hadn't been traumatized by them. No, she was being scared to death by benevolent imps.

  Of course it was never the things you worried about that scared a child. It was the little things out of left field. One of Gab's friends had a son in grade school. He'd been frightened to death that he was going to be shipped off to a mental hospital because he'd seen some public service ad that warned bad behavior might be an early sign of some disorder. Having recently been punished for misbehaving, he'd believed a mental hospital was the next step. Mental health commercials or cartoon favorites, the milkman or Uncle Earl; with children, you never knew who your enemy was.

  She watched Heaven eating, using her fingers to arrange cereal squares on her spoon before shoveling them into her mouth. It seemed such an innocent move, and she thought of how much she loved her, how much she wanted to protect her and spare her from pain.

  The world is not an easy place for children.

  ~*~

  The ride to school was also uneventful. Heaven made no mention of Gnelfs, even though she was carrying her official Gnelfs lunch box. When Gab dropped her off, she saw her fall in line with her friend Terry Guillory, who began to chatter and laugh. He was a slightly overweight kid and had whatever type of crush five-year-olds develop on the opposite sex. They were a good pair, really. Heaven thought of him as a friend. While she was quiet and introspective, Terry was quick to expound on his thoughts. Slightly pudgy, with short brown hair and glasses, he was something of an outcast, but he towered over Heaven like a protective giant. Perhaps they are friends because they are both ostracized, Gab thought. Terry was the weird kid, and Heaven was too beautiful. Remarkable how socialization worked.

  She patted the dashboard, urging the aging compact station wagon to move onward.

  ~*~

  Around noon Gabrielle went to lunch with Katrina Johnson, the receptionist. Katrina’s opinions always made the meal hour more interesting. And she had two children of her own; Gab wanted to check her thoughts on Heaven. Although Katrina, the daughter of a local civil rights attorney, made an effort to seem down-to-earth, she was a keen observer of humanity and the best authority Gab had on what was normal about children's behavior.

  "You think the same things scare black babies as scare white babies?" Katrina asked as they sat down at a table in Foster House, an elegant little restaurant with windows overlooking a courtyard. She was relaxing h
er formal tone as she frequently did when she was with Gab. With clients her tone was sleek and precise, just like her appearance. She was unquestionably beautiful with high cheekbones, perfect complexion. She worked out to keep her lean figure under control, and her hair was always pulled back in a sleek bun.

  "Our kids seem to be a lot alike," Gab said, sipping the iced tea the waitress had delivered.

  "Maybe so, but I wouldn't worry about hoodoo," Katrina said. "Kids are kids. Stuff scares them."

  "I guess I'm just feeling guilty because she was so frightened."

  "Like it's your fault she doesn't have a father? Dave’s the one went to California."

  "I know. It's just that it's got to be hard on Heaven, and I'm trying to be sensitive to her problems."

  Katrina raised her Diet Coke, shaking her head as she drank. Her bright red lipstick rubbed off on the straw. "You don't want to treat her too delicate. She'll start expectin' it."

  "Maybe you're right."

  "My little monsters are always up to something. I'm always right where kids are concerned."

  "I hope so, and I'm not overlooking some deep hidden stress syndrome in her or something."

  "Gab, the kid's not even five years old. She's interested in dolls and playing. There're just too many damn books full of ideas that make you worry these days. If we just let babies be babies it'll be all right. If she's scared of those green monstrosities the kids all like, get her some of those books about that French elephant or something." She sipped some more of her drink. "You think you got problems you ought to try to find a black doll in this town. I ought to go to the ordering clerk at Toy World and let him explain to my little girl why she doesn't have a baby doll with skin the same color as hers."