The Gabrielle Series Boxed Set

by Zachary Chopchinski

  Gabrielle smiled and shook her head. She knew her mother always felt guilty for leaving her home alone, but now that they were on their own, her mother had to work a lot more to support the two of them.

  Flipping the paper over, she began to pen her response to her mother’s letter as she did every time she was left one.

  Mom,

  Thank you for dinner and cake. I love you and hope you have a good night.

  -Gabrielle

  Walking over to the stove, Gabrielle lifted the lid of the pot and inhaled a large whiff of the pink, creamy substance within. This soup was her favorite — Chicken Paprikash with extra dumplings. Smiling, she licked her lips and grabbed a large bowl from the cabinet, filling it to the brim and sitting down at the table.

  She sat for a moment before remembering there was cake waiting for her. Sliding her chair back, she headed to the breadbox and removed a slice of the chocolate cake without frosting and headed back to the table.

  Gabrielle found that frosting was too sweet for her, often tickling her throat and making her cough, so her mother always made her a special cake without frosting.

  After enjoying a large dinner, she placed her dishes in the sink and walked from the kitchen through the front room to the stairs and headed up to the second level of her house to her bedroom.

  The stairs groaned with age as Gabrielle shifted her weight and stretched outward, mimicking Lucy, the cat she’d had as a child.

  Looking at her feet, she smiled and finished the jaunt up the stairs before reaching the top and turning down the hall toward her room, passing the walls of the hallway lined with pictures of her family throughout the years.

  As she walked toward her bedroom, she stopped at a small table that held a vase filled with baby’s breath. Above the vase was her favorite picture of her father and mother. He had a large jet-black beard and a younger man’s face. His arms were wrapped around her mother, and the two were both grasping a swollen belly.

  She was told that she would not be born for another month after the picture was taken, but it was still her favorite family photo.

  With another jaw dropping yawn, Gabrielle broke away from the picture and pushed through her half-opened room.

  It was not a room typical of a fifteen-year-old girl. Her room looked more like an explorer or safari master had taken up residence. Rather than toys littering the floors or clothing scattered about there were books and encyclopedias, maps of the world, and a large globe in one corner.

  She liked her books. Stories could take her anywhere she ever wanted to go, encyclopedias told her all she could ever want to learn, and maps could guider her so if she ever ended up in any strange place, she would know where she was. Even the globe that sat in the corner of her room paid homage to her desires.

  When she was younger, she used to spin the globe and then stop it with her fingers at a random place with the intention of looking up maps and pictures of the area so she could learn all about it.

  Often, however, she would daydream of the people and sights that might be there and imagine what her life would be like if she ever got to go.

  Gabrielle often dreamed she would one day have a grand adventure that would take her to all the different places she chose on her globe, but in reality, the most adventure she ever got was exploring the streets and shops in her new town.

  Gabrielle, finding herself exhausted, had but one thought on her ponderous mind: sleep. As her eyelids began to flutter, she threw off her uncomfortable dress and slid on her warm pajamas.

  After placing her dress in her hamper, Gabrielle ambled across her room and slipped into bed only to realize the overhead light was still on. With a sarcastic smile, she rose from beneath the enticing covers, over to her small desk, turned on a tiny lamp, and turned off the light to her room.

  Eagerly re-submerging herself beneath the covers, she allowed thoughts of what had transpired throughout the day to run circles through her mind before the weight of her eyelids became too much.

  She soon found herself beginning to drift off to sleep. She turned her head toward her window and peered out into the darkness, as she did every night before bed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Eyelids fluttered AS images flooded the mind of a sleeping Gabrielle. In her dream, a storm raged outside the windows of her room. Wind howled as a branch from the tree outside scratched at her window.

  Hiding behind blankets, Gabrielle peeked from behind her guise only to see a man through her window — a handsome man with a ladder battling the wicked branch. His large black beard glistened in the damp air as rain fell upon it and nestled itself away like dewdrops on a leaf. Papa!

  The rain descended as he claimed purchase over the branch and cast it to the ground. Looking in the window, he smiled at Gabrielle, and she smiled back.

  All of a sudden, her father’s once smiling face transformed into one of unbridled horror. A gasp from Gabrielle. A slip. A stumble. Her father’s face faded from the window and into the darkness.

  . . .

  A little girl and her mother now stood alone staring at the ground. They are dressed in black. Gabrielle is watching the tears fall from her face and land on the top of her shoes. It’s all my fault! I will never be scared of anything ever again!

  Stories need to be told… they are waiting… listen to them…

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jolting from her dream, Gabrielle gasped and sat upright, panting as she panned her gaze around the room. The morning sun shone through her window and cascaded across her pillow.

  Calming herself, she put her hand at her side and took a deep breath. The dream again. She thought as she tried to slow her breathing. Her eyes widened, and she brought her hand back to her mouth.

  “Papa’s silver coin!” Gabrielle threw the covers back and ran to her closet. In all that had happened, she left her present on the ground of that old, cramped shop.

  In a panic, Gabrielle pulled off her pajamas and tossed the clothes in her dresser around until she found jeans and a shirt. She stopped to take a gander in the mirror that hung above her desk and adjusted her hair, but she barely had both legs in her jeans before she ran into the hallway.

  Despite the warm sun outside, she knew it must be cold this morning as soon as she set foot on the frozen wooden floor. It felt like the bottoms of her bare feet were burning as she sprinted down the hall. Taking no time to stop and brush her teeth or wash her face, Gabrielle bounced from one step to the next, letting her momentum pull her down the staircase.

  She froze in place at the bottom of the stairs when she caught a glimpse into her father’s old study. The decorative French door was ajar, which was strange because the room was off limits ever since his death. She pushed the doors apart and peered. The study was the same as the day he died, with books on every surface and papers stacked as far as the eye could see.

  Gabrielle could have stayed in this room for hours in silence and watch her father write his novels. Every so often, he would cast a glimpse at her, and with a smirk — that she does her best to imitate — he would blow her a small kiss and then go back to his work.

  Now, with despair in her eyes, she looked into the room where she had once been so happy. Curled up on the old leather sofa was her mother, sleeping in a ball the same way Gabrielle had often slept when she fell asleep on the same couch as a child.

  She watched as her mother shivered and shifted as if she were having a nightmare. With careful steps, Gabrielle made her way over to the couch and stood there for a moment looking down at the sleeping Janice Wright.

  Gabrielle thought her mother was the most beautiful woman in the entire world when she smiled. She had the same pale skin and green eyes as Gabrielle; the two even shared the same fire-red hair — although Gabrielle’s unruly curls came from her father.

  Her father used to call his wife his “green-eyed monster” from one of his favorite works, Beowulf. As Gabrielle grew older and found herself in an assortment of trouble, her father would
smile and joke that she was really his little green-eyed monster.

  The corners of Gabrielle’s mouth turned down in a small frown as she thought about how little her mother smiled now. She grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the sofa and tucked it tenderly around her mother. After a light kiss on her cheek, Gabrielle returned to the hall, closing the doors behind her.

  She sat on the small bench next to the door and chose a more comfortable pair of shoes this time. She tried to slip her coat and shoes on at the same time which proved difficult.

  Gabrielle gave an irritated huff, finished with her shoes, leaving her coat on the ground as she rushed out the door in a full sprint towards Il Gabinetto di Curiosita.

  Regardless of the sun being up and bright, it was still early. She guessed it was only seven thirty at the latest.

  “This town is cursed with these early sunrises,” her mother would mumble through clenched teeth while trying to fix breakfast. Her father had always smiled, kissed Janice on the cheek, and pour her a cup of tea. Papa was a morning person. These days, Gabrielle was lucky if her mother was up early enough to make her breakfast before she went to school.

  Cold air stung Gabrielle’s nose as she sprinted through the vacant cobblestone streets. The aroma of fresh bread wafted as she jogged past the bakery and her mouth watered.

  Some shop owners were putting out their morning carts while others were sweeping their front stoops to prepare for opening.

  As she rounded the corner of Bearing Avenue, time seemed to skip. The next thing she remembered she was at the front door to Il Gabinetto di Curiosita. What if she isn’t open yet? Most other shops she passed wouldn't open for another hour.

  “I don’t want to be rude and wake her up if she's still sleeping,” Gabrielle argued with herself as she pondered her next move. Should I knock? Gabrielle considered that even if she knocked Alexandra’s loft was too deep within the shop to hear it.

  Gabrielle stood in the doorway of the dark building for a moment, wondering what she should do. The thought of her coin sitting in the dark under that small table, cold and alone, pulled at her mind.

  What if a mouse liked the shiny quality of the coin and took it away to its nest? Her thoughts turned black as she imagined never seeing her father’s silver again, the only thing of his she could call her own. Gabrielle couldn't believe she became so attached to the small coin. Deep in thought, she barely heard the sound so soft that it was only a whisper in the still air.

  CLICK.

  The sound came from the door. Taking a timid half step, she reached out and clasped her hand around the handle. Unlike the day before when the handle was welcoming and warm, today the handle was cold and lifeless. This should have been seen as normal, given the chill in the air; but something didn’t feel right.

  A cold breeze found its way into the nook where she stood and sent a shiver down her spine. Gabrielle peered over her shoulder, once more hit with the sensation that someone was watching her, demanding that she open the door and step inside.

  What of papa’s silver? Gabrielle thought, trying to convince herself to enter the building. With a deep breath and one last look behind her, Gabrielle cast caution aside and pushed open the old door.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gabrielle stood at the doorway for a moment, holding her breath as if she expected something awful to happen. The shop was quiet, and everything looked like it had the day before. She took a step inside, and the door closed behind her with a loud clank.

  As she stood in the entryway, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark room, she noticed that the air was stale. Unlike yesterday when the air seemed to buzz with electricity, today it was as if no one had taken a breath in this old shop in years.

  The shelves were as she remembered them, and the maze had not moved. With her eyes not yet in focus, she exhaled the breath she had forgotten she was holding and gave a loud sigh.

  Gabrielle would have to navigate through the shop once again to find where she had dropped her father’s silver coin the day before.

  As she looked around for the path that led directly to the back of the shop, she noticed that it had vanished. In its place was a large shelf filled with books written in a strange language. As Gabrielle skimmed the shelf trying to understand how it got there, she came across a book written in English, ‘The Guide to Gaelic’. Hmm, I bet these other books are written in Gaelic.

  Gabrielle left the shelf behind and entered the maze. Traveling faster than the last time she was there, she went down one aisle after another trying to get to the center of the store.

  She soon found herself frantic, navigating in the dim light, jumping at any glimmer of metal and then sinking into devastation every time it was not the one thing she was looking for.

  Although she had just been through the aisles of the shop the day before, she found it more difficult traveling through the endless abyss today. At one point, in a panicked turn, Gabrielle bumped a small stand that held a bronze bust of a noblewoman.

  The shelves nestled around the bust shook, and dust cascaded down over her like snow. She paused as she remembered the previous day. Looking around, she realized there was dust covering everything. Where had it all come from in one night?

  Since the sun hadn’t broken the tops of the buildings yet, the light that peeked through the previous day wasn’t there. Traveling by instinct, Gabrielle made her way through the many congested aisles of the shop.

  Rounding a corner, she bumped into an ottoman and it knocked over an old coat rack. Reaching out in the darkness, she tried to catch the coat rack but grasped only air. She winced and sunk into her shoulders as the coat rack bounced off the old carpet causing a loud thud.

  Should I call out to let her know I'm here?

  “No!” Gabrielle insisted to herself, and she hoisted the coat rack from the ground and placed it back in its original post. She took the time to adjust the stand until she felt the legs find their way back into the impressions they’d made in the carpet over who knows how long.

  Gabrielle looked around the room for any signs she had woken Alexandra. After several turns around the room, she realized that even in the dark—which the rising sun was helping to remedy—she'd found her way to the heart of the shop.

  What little light was coming through the front windows had developed into a hue that cast the area in a deep shade of green, making her feel like she was in an aquarium. Looking around Gabrielle noticed a sliver of light had found its way into a green glass vase that sat on the top of a bookshelf.

  Gabrielle shook her head and brought her focus back to finding her father’s silver, but not without a childlike giggle at the thought of being in a fish tank.

  She walked to the center of the room and peered once again at the oddities that lived there. Retracing her steps around the center, she found herself at the secretaire where she had found the bangle the day before.

  Turning on her heels, Gabrielle faced her back to the old writing desk and peered out into the shop. It was difficult to see in the faint light and she couldn’t remember which direction the coin had rolled. She fell to her knees and jerked her gaze from side to side.

  “Where is it?” she called with desperation in her voice evident even to her.

  Frustration built as she crawled on her hands and knees in the small area, trying to remember where she thought she had seen the coin roll. Finding nothing in the dark, she sat up with a sigh.

  What am I going to do? she thought as she sat in the middle of the floor, almost in tears.

  Remember, my sweet little girl, if ever you find yourself lost or without direction, you must simply retrace your steps. Follow your feet back to where you want to go. Her father’s words sounded as clearly as if he were there with her.

  Gabrielle stood and walked back to the secretaire. This time, however, she remained facing the desk and drew a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to think about what had happened the day before.

  Retrace my ste
ps. She opened her eyes, and just as though somebody had snuck up behind her, she spun around and fell on her butt.

  Gabrielle looked at the hand that had been holding onto the coin and followed a straight line off into the darkness. An old end table with carved wooden claw feet sat a few feet away from her. Something glinted underneath it.

  “SILVER!” she yelled and clasped her mouth shut with her palm. A large grin came over her face as she shuffled on all fours to the clawed feet of the small table.

  Grasping the coin, Gabrielle stood and caressed it with her thumbs. She looked down at the faded face carved into the coin’s surface. Tracing the markings with her thumb, she felt the muscles above her eyes tighten.

  “I don’t remember it looking so old.”

  “Tell the story… Protect them… Never forget…” Gabrielle almost dropped the coin again as the hot air of a whisper grazed the back of her neck.

  “Hello! Is someone there… Alexandra?” Gabrielle stood frozen in a state of terror.

  CLICK.

  A high-pitched ringing forced her to clasp her hands around her ears and squeeze her eyes shut.

  “What’s happening?” she yelled over the deafening sound. Gabrielle brought her eyes back to the secretaire. Above the high-pitched wail, a clicking sound emanated from the old desk. As she stared at it, the ringing in her head stopped.

  Gabrielle walked to the secretaire, brow furrowed in confusion. Sitting on the old, dusty wood was something silver displayed on a piece of paper. The light that fell on her changed. The green hue faded and natural light drifted across the desk, spotlighting the piece of silver that sat there.

  As she took a few steps closer to the desk, Gabrielle could see the bangle she found the day before, now bathed in light. Beneath the bracelet was a piece of paper folded over with her name scrolled on the top.