The Gabrielle Series Boxed Set

by Zachary Chopchinski

  “This is a small town, my dear. It is seldom that a new family moves into our midst without the rest of us knowing about it, especially with a young, curious lass,” Alexandra answered.

  “You have a lovely shop,” Gabrielle began, unsure what to say or how to act around the strange shop owner.

  “I love all the old things. Where did you get them? What does the name of your shop mean?” Gabrielle let the overwhelming curiosity that had been building inside of her spill out as she threw all the questions at Alexandra in one breath.

  “So many questions from such a quiet young lady.” A small smile appeared at the corner of Alexandra’s mouth and then disappeared as if she were trying to hide her excitement. “As my shop’s name would indicate, it is my little cabinet of curiosities, and they have taken quite the hold on you.” Alexandra shook her head to quiet her own rambling.

  “I’m sure you have many questions, but I find that this is not the most hospitable place for such long talks. Please, won’t you accompany me up to my loft and we can share those answers over a nice cup of tea?”

  Alexandra gestured behind her to another endless row of antiques and curiosities.

  “It was just brewed, and I seem to have made more than my fair share today. I think it’ll do you some good with the chill that’s waiting outside for your walk home.” With that, she stepped sideways, turning away from Gabrielle and, without pause, began down one row.

  Snapping out of her daze, Gabrielle hopped into movement and followed Alexandra back through the maze. She didn’t even wait for Gabrielle’s response leaving Gabrielle to wonder if the woman just knew she would follow, or simply did not care.

  The two walked down several aisles, navigating between pieces of art and clutter until they came to a staircase at the back of the shop. In the dim light, Gabrielle found it interesting that her hostess could navigate the cramped spaces with precision.

  The staircase was better lit than the rest of the rooms she’d seen but not by much. Books lined the sides of the stairs as if there couldn’t be one section free of clutter. Despite how steep the stairwell was, Alexandra did not hesitate when she reached it and began up the stairs as if she were floating.

  With her hands pressed outward and the flat of her palm pressed against the textured wallpaper, Gabrielle placed one foot in front of the other as she squinted and struggled to see each step in front of her.

  As the pair reached the top of the stairs, light shone through the crack in the door, and Gabrielle found herself relieved that she could see her surroundings much better.

  Alexandra opened the door and stepped aside to wave Gabrielle in first, and they proceeded into the room.

  The light was so bright compared to the stairwell, Gabrielle had to pause and allow her eyes to adjust. Once they did, she took a moment to look over the loft.

  They were standing in a short hallway that was larger than the walkways they had just escaped. At the end, it opened to a large, burgundy room trimmed with gold that smelled of roses and chamomile tea.

  Just like the walls downstairs, many pictures hung from the walls. In the hall sat a small table with a vase and fresh red roses. Gabrielle thought the thorns looked abnormally large, and she dared not touch them for fear of being pricked.

  Black and white photos danced along the walls of the hallway in ornate wooden frames. One photo of a run-down farmhouse caught Gabrielle’s attention. She studied the men and women standing on its porch in tattered overalls holding gardening tools.

  In another picture, a beautiful black woman with a wide smile on her face stood while a young white girl about Gabrielle’s age clung to her leg. Gabrielle’s gaze swept over the other photos on the wall, most of them were of the same two women.

  A picture of them sitting on the grass, reading together against a tree and another of the young girl on a tire-swing laughing as though it was the best day of her life.

  The young girl looked familiar. Could this be a photo of a younger Alexandra? Gabrielle thought to herself as she stared in amazement at all the pictures.

  “After you, my dear.” Alexandra’s voice tore Gabrielle from her thoughts with a startle. She had forgotten the older woman was standing right behind her. Gabrielle walked down the hall to the entrance of the main room.

  It was large and seemed to be the only room on that level of the building. Far off in one corner was a bed and a nightstand with a small lamp on it. Across from that was a sitting area with a leather couch and two antique red velvet chairs that sat in front of a fireplace which had a nice fire roaring, warming the entire room.

  A large wooden table covered in even more books with one chair pulled out at the end sat off to one side. Gabrielle could hear the clanking of cups as they were being gathered for tea and Alexandra shuffling about in the kitchen.

  As she continued to examine the room, her favorite book, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, came to mind. It was a story that her father used to read to her every night before bed. Her mother claimed the book planted the seed for adventure in Gabrielle.

  “There are two types of ways to travel: either by journey or adventure. The difference between the two is that with an adventure, there is an inherent risk of danger. I like to think with that danger comes even more excitement,” her father always told her, before kissing her forehead and wishing her off to sleep. A small smile peeked through as Gabrielle brought herself back from her daydream.

  With a gasp, she jumped back as Alexandra passed in front of her with a tray carrying a teapot. She then watched as the strange woman scurried to the sitting area in the far corner and placed the tray of cups, tea, and cookies on the small table that sat between the two velvet chairs. Alexandra brushed off one chair before turning to Gabrielle.

  “Please, come and have a seat. I have some wonderful tea and a selection of cookies for you to choose from.” Alexandra turned and brushed the dust from the second seat before taking her own next to the fire.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “I poured you some tea… chamomile, actually. Something tells me it’s your favorite.” Alexandra allowed a small, sly smile to creep across her lips, accompanied by a wink. “I didn’t put sugar in it, just a bit of honey—” her words trailed off.

  Gabrielle developed a squint-eyed glare at the sight of the tea. Her expression asked the question without her even speaking a word.

  “As I said, my dear, one does not get to be my age without learning a thing or two. One of those things being the ability to read people quite well. Please, my dear, have a drink and a treat. It will do you well. One cannot go about adventuring with an empty stomach and a chilled soul, now can one?”

  Gabrielle accepted her answer but wasn’t sure if she believed it. She reached out to grab a cup and saucer. It was then she realized that she still clutched the bangle in her hand so tightly that her knuckles ran white.

  Thinking back to the stairwell, she had no memory of the bracelet in her hands as she steadied herself on the walls ascending the stairs.

  Pausing, she loosened the tight grip on the piece and examined the bangle in the brighter light. Firelight danced over the smooth surface of the silver, casting shadows in the faded engravings and intricacies of the jewelry.

  Faint traces of letters carved in the tarnished silver were highlighted. They were difficult to make out, and she was certain that whatever the language was, it wasn’t English.

  “In all the excitement, I almost forgot to thank you for finding my old friend,” Alexandra stated, reaching out her hand and pausing palm up while staring at Gabrielle.

  Looking from Alexandra’s face to the bangle, Gabrielle reached out and placed the bracelet in the old woman’s palm.

  Alexandra snatched up the bracelet and brought it to her mouth whispering something so quietly that Gabrielle couldn’t hear it over the crackle of the fire. The old woman then placed the piece on her wrist and sat back in her chair with a grin, gazing at a bewildered Gabrielle.

  “Please, h
ave a sip. I think you’ll find it not too hot and just to your liking,” Alexandra began as though to draw attention away from what had just transpired. Gabrielle didn’t want to address the strange behavior since from the moment she walked through the wooden door and entered the shop, everything she had encountered was strange.

  She gave a crooked smile and brought the cup of tea to her lips and inhaled through her nose. The chamomile and honey flushed Gabrielle’s senses, and she was back sharing tea with her father and mother as a family. She felt a large grin come over her, and her cheeks warmed as she took a large sip.

  “That’s the ticket. It’s quite good, isn’t it? Please try it with a cookie. Here, one of these—” Alexandra handed Gabrielle a small cookie that looked like it was coated in cinnamon sugar.

  Gabrielle dipped it in her tea and took an ever-so-small nibble with the tips of her teeth. Finding herself more and more relaxed, she sunk back in the chair as it hugged her small frame and continued to sip her tea, all the while Alexandra watched her carefully.

  “Now that we are a little more comfortable, I believe I owe you some answers to your questions, don't I?” Alexandra began, taking a taste of her tea.

  “Where did I get all the things in my shop? Well, over the years, I have amassed a large collection of curiosities, as I like to call them. Things that speak to me, things that I need to keep safe.” With this, Alexandra motioned around to all the items in the room.

  “It’s in this spirit that my shop gained its name, Il Gabinetto di Curiosita. It’s Italian for ‘The Cabinet of Curiosities.’ This, my dear, is exactly what my things are.”

  “Keeping them safe? What are you protecting them from?” interrupted Gabrielle as she took another bite from a cinnamon sugar cookie.

  “Yes, protecting. You see, Gabrielle, people aren’t the only things that need protecting from this world. Precious objects need just as much protection from those that wish them harm. The things I have downstairs and up here in my home are as alive as you and I sitting here right now. They have a history. They have their very own pasts, and they could talk to you if you’d only take the time to listen.” Alexandra looked at the ground, sadness gracing her face for a moment.

  “These things that I protect are very much alive, and I have dedicated my life to collecting them and keeping them from the perils of the world.”

  Gabrielle ran her fingers over the edges of the armrests. The velvety fabric met with a decorative wood design, and she let her fingers trace the hills and valleys of the ornate carving.

  “This point, in fact, brings us to your final question: How long have these things been here? Well, that’s a question that isn’t easily answered. These items have been here for longer than my lifetime and will continue, with the proper protection, far past even yours, young Gabrielle.”

  Gabrielle wrinkled her nose in confusion. “What do you do when somebody buys one of the items from the shop? How can you protect them if they aren’t here?” she questioned as she held out her empty cup and Alexandra poured more tea into it.

  The fire made a loud crack as a log burst within the heat. Alexandra took a deep breath as though she were preparing to tell her some grave news.

  “Well, I don’t sell any of my curiosities, my dear.” Alexandra’s attention seemed to drift away, and she became very serious, as though this was the most important story of all.

  “I could never let any of these things go. The world is a harsh place, and as I said earlier, these things need protecting.” Alexandra nibbled her lip and scrunched her eyes together in thought.

  “Crows collect things that shimmer for their nests; a tree does not part with its leaves until their time has come; in such a spirit, I could not part with my artifacts. Do you understand?”

  “But... aren’t you the shop’s owner? Doesn’t a shop owner sell things?” Gabrielle interjected, confused by the strange way Alexandra was explaining everything. “What do you do with your large collection if you don’t sell them?”

  “I have long since lost a need for luxuries and money for spending. Now we sit and enjoy each other’s company throughout the days and nights. Telling stories and relishing in history, and we wait,” Alexandra responded, sounding like a professor answering a student’s inquiry.

  “Wait? Wait for what?” Gabrielle asked, the harsh tone of confusion embracing her words. Taking into regard all the odd things she had seen and heard today, this was by far the strangest.

  “We wait for what we are waiting for. You may be too young, but I feel you already know that in life we are all waiting for something.”

  Gabrielle nodded her head in agreement as she sipped her tea. The chamomile allowed faded memories of happy times with her family to linger just close enough to thought so that she could enjoy them, but not so close that they would keep her from listening.

  “You will only know what you are waiting for when it presents itself to you. Take my little friend here. You could argue that she was waiting for you to find her.”

  Gabrielle found her mind wandering again. Wondering why she kept saying that her things were her friends?

  “I misplaced her quite some time ago, and I couldn’t find her no matter how much I searched. Yet, you come into our lives and within moments find her and bring her to the light, and for that, again, I thank you.”

  Gabrielle noticed that Alexandra was rubbing her wrist that bore the bracelet and casting a fawning gaze upon it. The fire continued to crackle next to them, and she stared at the bangle as well.

  “She has quite an amazing story all to her own, you know? She and I have been through quite a lot together, and she has seen much, much more than that with her other companions.”

  Gabrielle knitted her eyebrows together in confusion. “Other companions? How long have you had that bracelet? Where is it from?”

  She seemed to bring Alexandra back from whatever dream state she had drifted to. Blinking, then fixing her gaze upon Gabrielle, Alexandra smiled a large, toothy grin.

  “These may be questions for another time. Look out the window; the sun is low in the sky, and I fear you must be heading home before it gets dark. I wouldn’t want your mother to worry, and the chill in the air will only worsen. But, please, feel free to come back at any time. I enjoy your company very much.”

  Alexandra stood, towering over Gabrielle, and ushered her to the door of the loft as though she was in a hurry for her to leave. Gabrielle walked next to her this time rather than behind, and the two stopped at the doorway.

  The two said their goodbyes and Gabrielle ventured down the stairs alone. When she reached the bottom of the stairs—which seemed to be much easier to navigate going down than they did going up—she froze in place and stared ahead.

  There was no straight passage from the back of the shop to the front door. The labyrinth of passageways wound around this central path as if they had always been there.

  That wasn’t there before, was it? Shrugging off her confusion, she walked down the new aisle and through the front door.

  The sound of it slamming closed behind her made her jump once more. Crisp air stabbed at the back of her throat. The shadow of the building had crept across the ground and covered the street, draping the entire area in darkness.

  Pulling her hands to her face, she blew a breath through her fingers and rubbed her hands together for warmth. Turning for one last look at the shop, Gabrielle took a deep breath and began the jog home.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Just as earlier in the day when Gabrielle was running to the shop, the journey from Il Gabinetto di Curiosita to her home was a blur and the next thing she knew, she was standing at the base of the stone walkway that led to her home.

  Yellow lighting peered through the front windows in the rapidly vanishing light. The brick exterior had a plum hue in the setting sun, and the green shutters were so dark they appeared black.

  With a chilled breeze stabbing at her skin, Gabrielle rushed up the path, across her porch, and thr
ough her front door where the warm air washed over her.

  The sun had nearly set as she walked through the door, and she was happy that she had made it home before the sun was completely gone. Not too many things scared her, but she was not a huge fan of the dark.

  Sitting down on the stool next to her front door, she began to slip her shoes off. She thought back to her conversation with Alexandra and finally understood what she meant about wearing comfortable shoes just in case you need to run. Rubbing her sore feet, Gabrielle wished she had some of those shoes right now after the long run home.

  Unlike the shop where she had spent most of the afternoon, her house was well lit and warm. Like the shop, however, art and antiquities adorned the corridors, rooms, and walls of her family’s home. The antique wooden floors were also very similar to the shop, but much noisier.

  Once her shoes were off, Gabrielle walked through the front room and then into the kitchen —as she always did when she got home — and looked to the counter for the expected note from her mother.

  Since her father died, her mother had picked up a second job working as a nurse, in the next town over, at a home for the elderly. She was often home late, and Gabrielle was left to fend for herself.

  Since her mother was unable to see her during the day, she took to leaving notes for her on the counter.

  My little sweet Gabrielle,

  I’m sorry that I missed you again this evening. I know it’s your birthday, and I’m sorry we could only have breakfast. I hope you had fun on your adventures today. There is cake in the breadbox, and I made some of your favorite soup for dinner. I left it on the stove for you. Please don't stay up too late, and have the sweetest dreams, my love.

  Love, Mom