GNELFS Page 5
~ * ~
After dinner they sat in the living room, and Gabrielle read some of Anne of Green Gables. She'd found it in a box in the storage room, a dog-eared copy she'd had for years. It was something of a compromise. She hoped it wouldn't have elements that proved disturbing. She'd expected it to generate protest, but Heaven was listening without showing discontent or boredom. L. M. Montgomery's story of an orphan held her interest as well as any of the less imaginative modern stories that came her way.
Around seven-thirty, Gab said it was bedtime, and Heaven was bathed and in her pajamas by eight. Gab was sitting in the living room reading the latest Dean Koontz, which she'd borrowed from Katrina, when the phone rang.
It was Tanner.
"What's going on?" he asked.
A simple enough question, so why did it send that little bolt of fear through her?
The reasons were multiple. That inbred schoolgirl fear was there. After all, he was a man who interested her. What should she say? What should she do? Then there were the more complex underlying reasons. His call was a threat to her routine. He was change. He was moving her back into a realm from which she had shut herself away. It was easy not to have to worry about a relationship, easy to get through day-to-day living without tension. It could be boring, but it was also comfortable.
Also, there was the matter of being worried about Heaven. What if something serious was developing with her? If so, she would require time and attention. It might be hard to devote time to dating. And letting Tanner into her life might further aggravate Heaven's problems if they were related to the divorce.
After all this contemplation, she answered: "Nothing much." As an afterthought, she added, "What about you?"
"I had a productive day I guess. Almost finished a chapter, and I got a letter from a magazine. They want me to do a column on my next book. They have a new books' section where authors talk about how they came to write their books."
A brief lull followed, one of those long silences that come in phone conversations between people who don't know each other well.
Gab felt the awkwardness but could think of nothing to say. She suspected Tanner was having the same problem. She was reminded again of schoolgirl feelings, and decided he seemed to be like a shy little boy. Maybe this was a sign that they were well suited for each other.
"How's Heaven doing?" he asked, as if the question had come in a burst of inspiration to end the silence.
"Fine." She was leery of talking about Heaven too much to a man for fear of boring him or scaring him, but the question gave her something to talk about. For now, just getting past the tension was her goal. Wit and eloquence could come later. "She's having some bad dreams, but she'll get over that. You know kids."
"Yeah. I can remember a few sleepless nights when I was a kid. In fact the ideas for some of my books have come from dreams."
"Really?" He was talking about himself, his work; that was good. Give and take, that was what conversation was supposed to be.
"Dreaming people were trying to kill me, things like that," he explained. "Dreams give you the ‘what if,' and you plot from there."
"Heaven's got it in her head that the Gnelfs are after her." She bit her lip. She shouldn't have told him that. Now she'd have to admit—
"I hope the movies I showed her didn't cause problems."
"She'd seen Gnelfs plenty of times before. I'm sure it wasn't triggered by seeing them at your house. I don't know what has her upset. She'll be all right as soon as they advertise some new Gnelf toy that costs fifty dollars."
"I just picked those up because they said so many kids watch them. The people that produce them apparently put a lot of care into the designs and everything."
She thought it best to change the subject. What could she talk about? "Are you on schedule with your book?"
"Kind of. Every now and then I have off days. I hit a wall, kind of like a runner.”
“I guess writing a novel is like running a marathon.”
“It can be."
"It must take discipline."
"I guess you'd call it that. It's just a matter of sitting in the chair every day."
The conversation droned on, nothing spectacular. He was no Oscar Wilde, but he was trying. She felt some of the ice melting.
For a few moments, she let herself entertain a brief fantasy. Heaven's problem would turn out to be minor, and something exciting and romantic would develop with Tanner.
She liked the idea even though she knew the little dramas played out in the mind seldom came true. Not the pleasant ones anyway. She'd learned that from experience.
Chapter 5
Katrina expected a report on Heaven when the coffee break rolled around the next morning, and when she learned Tanner had called she demanded an update on that as well.
“What's happening here, girl? It sounds like things are looking up."
"Hard to tell."
They sat at one of the four tables in the small shop, sipping from paper cups.
“He’s obviously interested," Katrina said.
"I don't know.”
"He called, didn't he? Why do people always get so paranoid? Why would he call if he wasn't interested?"
"Maybe he was just being nice. I've got Heaven to think about right now, anyway."
"That's an excuse, and you know it," Katrina said, dumping creamer into her cup. "Heaven is gonna be fine.”
"Well, she slept okay last night. No screams in the dark. I thought about putting her in bed with me, if she gets frightened again.”
"Don't let her get dependent on that."
"I guess it would establish a life of fear for her.”
“She'd never want to let go of you."
"I never thought I'd be creating so much trouble when I signed the papers to end things with Dave.”
“Children are delicate creatures. They don't make it very easy to be selfish."
"I know she's confused. Her father's gone. To her it looks like I sent him away. She's never said much about the thing with Martin, but I guess that bothered her. He didn't particularly like children. He was very nice, cordial, but you could tell he thought of her as extra baggage."
"He was too old for you, anyway."
"He seemed so mature compared to David. A little gray at the temples, tailored suits. I was silly, but he was good to me. Sent flowers."
"I saw them. Remember?"
"Just thinking out loud. I don't know if I want to be involved with anybody right now."
"Tanner sounds nice."
"He's very nice. Soft spoken."
"Go after him. He's running toward you. It couldn't be that hard to meet him halfway."
"You have us running through a meadow or something. I don't own any white lace gowns."
Katrina picked up one of the small plastic stirring sticks and tapped the edge of the table with it playfully as her lips curled into a grin. "It's never that simple. Never just a matter of you and him. There are always other concerns, but somewhere amid the worries about Heaven and the worries of this sweatshop and whatever idiosyncrasies he has—and there are plenty of them, I'm sure—you have to try to find something. That's the only way. Sometimes I want to put mine out the door, but then I think about it, and I don't want to be without him. Or my babies. You can't go through life alone."
"Sometimes it seems like it would be nice if there were no men in the world."
~*~
After work, she picked Heaven up at school, watching her carefully for signs of disorder. Nothing was evident. Heaven climbed into the car and sat in her seat, the Dr. Seuss book, Oh, the Places You'll Go, on her lap.
She was in one of her introverted moods, a phenomenon Gabrielle had learned long ago not to interpret as a problem. If Heaven didn't have anything she felt like talking about, she didn't speak.
Gab drove slowly, the way she always did when she had Heaven in the car. She was phobic about causing an accident which would somehow harm her daughter.
&
nbsp; "How was school today?" Gab asked.
"Not bad."
"Did you learn a lot."
"We talked about the alphabet some more."
There was no trace of anxiety or dismay. She talked a little bit about the songs and the games of the day, and didn't seem bothered by anything. She made no mention of friends, but she didn't say any new atrocities had been committed by the other kids. Perhaps that in itself was a victory.
~*~
When another call came from Tanner that evening, Gabrielle allowed herself to be convinced he was interested. The conversation came a little easier, with fewer pauses. They both seemed able to find things to say.
She laughed a few times at jokes he made, and that seemed to put him more at ease. She realized it was true for her also. When he was calm, she could be calm.
Jesus, did it ever get any easier than high school? She found her fingers tangling in the phone cord, twisting about the coils, and she watched them snap immediately back into place upon release. That was the same thing she'd done when she was talking to boys in eleventh grade, hoping they would be able to work up the courage to ask her out even as they stumbled over dutiful reports about football practice or the debate club. Everybody is scared and nervous, but breaking through the barriers of fear seems so impossible, she thought. She and Dave had never torn down all their walls. Perhaps that had been their downfall.
Could she reveal herself to Tanner? And could he open up? Weren't detective writers tough guys? Not sensitive artist types. She'd read interviews with Mickey Spillane even though she'd never bothered to check up on Mike Hammer.
Tanner seemed nice enough, average in fact. Maybe it was time to edge out on the limb a little, not too far but far enough to see how her weight affected the branch.
"Okay, Tanner," she said. "You fixed a meal for me. You wanna let me cook for you some night?"
"That would be nice," he said. She could have written his next line for him. "I wouldn't want you to go to any trouble."
She was prepared. "No trouble. I cook dinner almost every night after work anyway. Can you tear yourself away from your word processor tomorrow around eight?" Good line, she thought, pleased with herself.
"I guess I could manage that," Tanner said. "Should I bring anything?"
"Not really. Don't expect anything too fancy."
"Whatever you come up with will be fine."
Endearing, but not his best work, she decided. He couldn't be expected to be at his peak all the time. The main thing was that he was coming. The fear of asking was over, and the risk had paid off. She'd known he would accept, still it was scary to make an offer. Rejection always seemed to loom on the horizon. People always said you had nothing to lose and everything to gain, but that wasn't true. A negative answer could be devastating. Not as bad as worrying about a negative answer—but bad nonetheless.
She hung up, a feeling of warmth settling over her. It soon became a burst of enthusiasm, a tingling joy that made not grinning impossible. She went back into the living room and found Heaven playing with her toys.
"Who was on the phone?" she asked without looking up.
"Mr. Tanner." Gab sat down beside her and rested an arm around Heaven's shoulders.
Heaven continued fussing over her dolls, her expression intent. She took great care with the dolls. "Do you like Mr. Tanner?" Gabrielle asked.
"He's okay."
"He doesn't frighten you?"
Heaven shook her head. "No, ma'am."
"You're sure it won't upset you if he comes to visit?”
“It won't." Heaven put her dolls down and hugged Gab's neck. "He can come over."
"Good, baby. Mommie wants you to be happy. You know that?"
"Yes, Mommy. I know. I am happy. Here with you. Really."
Gab closed her eyes and rested her cheek against the top of her daughter's head. How much she loved this little one, more than anything.
~*~
He sat in one of the padded chairs near the plate glass window overlooking the runway. It was night. Various lights cut through the black scene with spots of red, blue or green. And raining. Drops streaked the glass.
Danube had spent nights in airports before. Flights were often canceled or delayed. Storms did their share. No matter. His travels had taught him patience if nothing else.
A discarded newspaper lay at his side, ignored, the only thing that made the airport different from a hundred others. Like motel rooms, airports were interchangeable. The newspaper was the Atlanta Journal Constitution, but it might as well have been the Los Angeles Times or the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
Just as the woman down the row from him, struggling with her restless children, could have come from anywhere and be headed anywhere. He had seen her in other places with those same restless children, in bus stations as well as airports, or at least people so like this group they seemed no different. Nothing was really different. Nothing changed. Not in a lifetime. Not in several lifetimes.
No matter. He had become immune to boredom, just as he had become immune to anxiety. He did not worry about the present or the future. The past he could not escape, but he did not fear it either. Not while he was awake.
With luck, while he waited for a flight to New Orleans, he would not doze, and he would not dream.
~*~
Once Gabrielle had put Heaven to bed, she picked up Tanner’s book. In scanning the first couple of pages, she found it was a little more complex than she'd expected. This was no simple Perry Mason tale.
It opened in New Orleans, where a young man had gone to search for an estranged lover. Told in the first person, the narrative revealed pieces of the lead character's soul even as the plot began to unfold. She found herself wondering how much of Tanner's own inner feelings were reflected. She knew it wasn't appropriate to assume a writer was his own main character, but the hero of the novel reminded her of Tanner, at least a little.
~*~
They came out of the darkness, their forms emerging at first only as outlines in mist. They were short, walking four abreast, and their breath seemed to be grunted up from their throats.
Their green skin was marked with pocks and lesions, and their pointed features were twisted into hideous grins that peeled their lips back over sharp, yellowed teeth. The brightly colored sashes tied about their heads were sweat stained, and the weapons they carried were crusted with dried blood and bits of torn flesh.
Gnelf Master, a much more hideous and bestial Gnelf Master than the one immortalized in the storybooks and cartoons, led the band, a huge pitchfork grasped in his thick green fists.
Their feet crunched on the gravel path as they followed it into the city. They skulked along beside the roadways, avoiding headlights and dodging away from detection until they were at the edge of the neighborhood they sought.
There they darted across lawns, over fences, and through backyards until they reached Heaven's window. She had known they were coming, and she sat at the head of her bed, pillows bunched around her and the covers pulled up to her chin as if for protection.
She could not move when the window opened and they struggled in, exerting themselves to squeeze their stout bodies through the opening.
When they were assembled on the carpet at the foot of her bed, Gnelf Master began to laugh. As he did, his breath seeped out in wisps of smoke, and something harsh and brutal rattled in his chest.
"Tryin' to sleep?" he asked. His voice came from deep in his throat and his speech had a thick, slow pattern. "There is no sleep for little bitches."
Heaven bit her lower lip, chin trembling, tears in her eyes as Master pointed his pitchfork and wiggled it, the tines pricking the sheet in front of her.
"Your mama took you to see the holy man. Did he do any good? Did he keep us away?"
The other creatures grunted and laughed, urging him to continue the harassment. They were like little, deformed apes, their eyes dull and their faces almost seeming limp except when they growled and grinned.
Heaven pulled the covers closer about her, bringing forth a laugh from the leader. He tilted his head back, and the noise roared up from his mouth.
"No one can hear us," he said. "We're in your dream. Only you know we're here. Poor little thing," he added with mock sympathy.
Heaven whimpered, but it was the only sound she could manage, a frightened little moan.
"Oh, you can't scream either," the Master said. "You're too scared. Try it."
Heaven's voice seemed tangled in her throat. It was true. She could not call out for help, and that made the shudders running through her intensify. She almost wet herself, and sweat covered her.
He screamed instead, a loud imitation of her voice that turned to a laugh. “Doesn’t help does it?”
Moving around the edge of the bed, Master tilted his head to one side, his wrinkled face taking on a false look of concern. "Poor little one." He extended his hand, one finger outstretched, to caress her cheek.
"Not your fault you are born of a whore, but your blood is tainted. Your mother is a slut."
"Mommy isn't bad."
“If only you knew." He caressed her cheek and then suddenly grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking her head sideways.
"Maybe we should cut her into little pieces, eh, boys?" He looked over his shoulder at minions who grunted and guffawed in approval.
His yellow-green eyes turned back to Heaven. They were filled with anger and hatred. “That bitch would scream then, seeing pieces of her little one strewn all across the living room rug."
"No," Heaven pleaded.
"Or if we eat her, it'd just be the bones. Right boys?"
Again a round of approving grunts, and the Gnelfs hoisted their weapons over their heads, waving them about in near-frenzied excitement.
"Don't hurt me or Mommy," Heaven begged. "We've never done anything to you. I used to like you."
"Oh, she used to like us." The Master let go of her hair and cupped her chin, gently for a second, but then his grip tightened. "You should be scared. This is nowhere near over, and your mother's friends ain't gonna be able to help. No one will help you. Not until we've finished with you."