Gabriel's Revenge (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 2)

by J. T. Lewis

  All that was left was the electrical ‘problem’ to be finished. He had said his goodbyes to Bill only moments ago, and now stood in front of the electrical panel in the basement. He had offered to flip the breaker on his way out, leaving through the basement door and into the dark back yard so as not to draw any additional attention to Bill’s problems from his neighbors.

  Crossing himself and holding the cross in his right hand, he flipped the breaker on with his left. A noise upstairs told him that the current was indeed doing what it was intended to do. Kissing the cross, he let it fall on its chain to his chest, then called goodbye to Bill before turning and leaving out the basement steps.

  Making his way quickly through the dark back yard, he effortlessly hurdled the back fence and quietly skulked past the neighbor’s house and onto the next street.

  Turning left on the tree lined street, he looked up at the canopy above him and marveled at one of God’s greatest creations. Shade, habitat for birds and small animals, as well as producing oxygen for all living things, God had indeed outdone himself with the creation of a tree.

  Feeling the harmony in his soul, he started walking slowly back to his quarters, enjoying the warm night air and the sounds of the summer eve that surrounded him.

  Remembering the Latex gloves still on his hands, he carefully removed first one then the other, patiently folding them into a neat bundle before he placed them into his expansive pocket. A smile formed on his lips as his fingers brushed against the old leather testament also in his pocket, the comforting touch of his old friend always relaxing him.

  After but a few more steps, he started whistling a tune, the eerie melody mixing easily with the cricket’s chirp to fill the quiet night air with a haunting harmony.

  Chapter 13

  August 21, 1998

  As we walked off the ramp and into the terminal, I was feeling better now that my feet were on solid ground. Amazingly, it felt as if some of my confidence was also returning as I got closer to home. I’m not sure that my remorse was actually any less, but I realized that I had a job waiting for me, and I would need to be in top form to get to the bottom of the murder.

  The murder of my friend.

  We made our way to the gate of our next flight, and then located a coffee shop nearby. I was shocked at the $5.00 per cup cost for the coffee, but seeing that it was unlimited refills brought a smile to my face. They would be sorry I ever walked into their place.

  Abby ordered a cup, as well as a Danish pastry, and I was again amazed at her ability to pack in the food. I handed the young girl at the counter a credit card and we then took a seat in the surprisingly comfortable little shop. Abby tore into the pastry like she hadn’t eaten in a month, unabashedly licking her fingers when she was done.

  “I love pastry,” she said with enthusiasm.

  “I noticed,” I replied with a smile. “You must keep pretty active to keep the weight off with your appetite.”

  “Oh, I have a few hobbies that keep me busy, I’m trying to finish my college part-time, and my job can be pretty exciting at times.”

  I was just about to question her on her job and hobbies when our revere was interrupted by yelling from the counter.

  “What do you mean you don’t have espresso?” an overweight red-faced man literally screamed at the little girl behind the counter.

  “The machine is broken sir,” we heard in a small voice as the girl timidly tried to defend herself.

  “There is another coffee shop by Gate 16 sir, I’m sure…”

  “That’s 20 Gates from here, I have a plane to catch you dumb fucking idiot. Did you even have to finish high school to get this job bitch?”

  This guy had gone overboard, and I did a quick scan out in the corridor to see if there was any security around. Seeing none, I started to rise to see what I could do to calm the situation.

  “Need a refill?” Abby asked, taking my cup without waiting for my response. My surprise at her sudden actions delayed my reaction, and I watched as she approached the register, holding the two cups of coffee in front of her.

  Sliding in next to the irate man, she calmly asked the girl for refills of her coffee.

  “I was here first you dumb chink,” the man loudly shouted, his face turning an even brighter shade of red.

  Abby shyly turned to face him, her coffee cups still out in front of her. Suddenly the man was falling backwards, his flailing hands grabbing her arm in the process, causing the two cups of still hot coffee to spill all over his shirt.

  An angry howl filled the airport as the penetrating heat soaked through the man’s shirt and spread over his chest. The loud screams of pain finally alerted an airport security officer, who came running to the shop to investigate.

  “What’s going on here?” a young man wearing a neatly pressed uniform asked Abby, she obviously the best looking person involved in the melee.

  “This man fell down and grabbed my arm on his way down, spilling my coffee on him in the process,” Abby explained demurely.

  “She did it on purpose!” the man screamed as he tried to roll himself back to an upright position. “She pushed me down, I demand you arrest her!” the man finished in a huff.

  “Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Abby intoned, to my ears a hint of a fake southern accent coming through.

  “You spilled my coffee; I believe you should buy me another,” she continued adamantly, holding her own in the conflict.

  “Looks like it’s just an accident to me,” the young security guy said, sneaking a smile toward Abby. “I don’t see any real fault here.”

  “What about my shirt!” the red-faced man yelled, looking at the young man.

  “There is a place that sells shirts in the airport, down by gate 16. I suggest your best bet may be to head on down there and purchase one before your flight leaves,” young security guy said with a determined look.

  The fat man was livid, but speechless. Looking at Abby and then the girl at the counter with razors in his eyes, he finally picked up his carryon and stormed off in a huff.

  “Thank you kind sir,” Abby said to the young man, really laying on the accent now.

  The young man smiled back before touching the fingers to the bill of his hat in an offhand salute. Turning on his heels, he strutted off back into the corridor, his back probably a little straighter than before he arrived.

  The girl behind the counter mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Abby before busying herself by getting two new cups of coffee ready. Abby picked them up with a smile and headed back to our table.

  “That poor man,” she said as she set my cup in front of me. “I feel so bad that I spilled my coffee on him.”

  I eyed my newfound friend suspiciously. “I’m going to hazard a guess that some sort of martial arts may be one of your hobbies that you mentioned earlier.”

  She looked at me with surprise, “Wow, that’s right, you a detective too?”

  “I may have dabbled,” I said as I leaned back in my chair. “But you don’t need to be a detective to see an expertly executed yet cleverly disguised foot sweep, followed by a perfectly timed elbow to the chest as you pivoted your body around. It would seem that this resulted in the man grabbing your arm for support, causing the catastrophic hot coffee debacle we just witnessed.”

  She was quiet as we both lifted our cups and sipped our coffee for a few moments, keeping her eyes averted from mine. You could tell she was unsure of what to admit to, not knowing what my opinion of such a display might be.

  A twinkle came to my eye as I said in a low voice, “Good move kid!”

  Her smile returned in an instant, her eyes full of excitement as she continued to drink her coffee.

  I was becoming impressed with my young friend; someone had done a great job raising this one. Although we had never made a big deal of it; Betty and I had never been able to have kids. We both seemed to accept it in stride, but I think it hit Betty a lot harder than she ever let on. Truth be known, it proba
bly bothered me a little more than I ever admitted either.

  I pushed these thoughts into the back of my head where they belonged, and settled in my seat, enjoying multiple cups of coffee over the next hour. My new friend kept up my favorite type of conversation, the kind where I don’t need to say much. She had an amazing ability to talk.

  Although I had slept multiple times on the trip, I had yet to achieve a restful repast. My eyes started closing involuntarily, seeming heavier than I have remembered in a long while. Abby noticed, bless her heart, saying we should go back to the waiting area and see if we could grab some shuteye.

  On the short walk back to our gate, I questioned myself as to whether it was actual fatigue causing my extreme weariness, or just worry over the death of my friend. The thought of Frank dying alone in that parking lot was still heavy on my heart.

  Finding a quiet spot in a corner of our gate’s waiting area, we set up camp. Abby sat sideways in a chair, her feet dangling over the armrest onto the next seat, her head resting comfortably on a jacket she had pulled out of her suitcase.

  I pulled one of my tee shirts out of my pack and rolled it up, opting to sleep on the carpeted floor, being used to much less than that over the last few months. I looked up and saw that Abby seemed already to have fallen asleep, looking very comfortable in her twisted position. Her young muscles would probably not even notice when she awoke, one of the vestiges of youth that I missed immensely.

  Pulling my hat down low over my eyes, my thoughts returned to my friends; would the pain ever stop over their loss? My last thought as my eyes grew heavy was a memory of Betty, eyes twinkling over the rim of a coffee cup as my heart skipped a beat. That was love.

  ***

  I entered the room again from the hallway. The comforting warmth again enveloped me as I took in my surroundings. The fireplace was blazing, with the slight smell of wood smoke in the air. The light over the table next to my chair revealed steam streaming up from the hot coffee sitting on the edge. I sat down in the comfortable chair and grabbed the mug as if it might escape, greedily drinking a big swallow before leaning back to relax.

  Looking over at the board, I tried to remember when the pieces had turned into the elegantly carved marble ones that sat there now. Had they always been like that?

  My heart stopped for a moment when I realize that something was wrong; I was no longer in command of the game. My unseen opponent had found some strategy to put my king in danger in a few short moves. How the hell did he do that?

  I spend a long time studying the pieces, trying to fathom what I had missed. Finally I saw where I had erred. A new respect for my opponent expressed itself with the only word I could muster from my feeble brain.

  “Brilliant!” I exclaimed out loud. This was getting to be more of a challenge than I had expected…“Absolutely brilliant!”

  I spent what seemed like an hour readjusting my strategy before moving the knight to block. I truly hated being on the defensive.

  Leaning back once more into my chair, I felt suddenly exhausted as my eyes, heavy from the strenuous mental work, started to close. No sooner had they closed when I felt the comforting sensation of a hug from behind. The strange buzzing sound started once more as I concentrated on the noise while enjoying the embrace. The words escaped me once again as I was forced to concentrate harder to make anything out. The noise had stopped, but the embrace continued.

  Off behind me and to the left, I was surprised to suddenly hear a sound I thought I would never hear again in this lifetime.

  “Humph.”

  “Frank?!”

  Chapter 14

  August 21, 1998

  “Frank!”

  I jerk awake, lifting the hat off my eyes quickly. Frank is not there; I was still in the airport, and Abby was looking at me with concern from her perch on the seats. She had apparently been up for awhile, having a fresh cup of coffee in her hand. She reached over beside her in another seat and magically produced yet another cup, which she held out to me. I stared at it for a second as my brain shifted back into gear before relieving it from her outstretched hand.

  “You don’t sleep very well, do you?” Abby asked with concern on her face.

  “I have my demons,” I stated simply, before taking a sip of the hot liquid.

  Remembering my dream again, I set down the cup, taking out the journal and making a note of my recollection of the dream.

  There wasn’t much to write about.

  I was still confounded by what the dreams are supposed to be telling me. The mysterious buzzing still echoed in my ears as I quickly shut the book and stowed it in my pack.

  Looking up, I found Abby still looking at me questioningly.

  “You look puzzled; anything I can help with?”

  I thought about her offer for a few seconds before rejecting it in my head. She probably thought I was crazy enough without letting her in on my paranormal crap. I took up my coffee and grabbed another sip before answering her.

  “No thanks, it’s nothing really. Just a little thing I’ve been working on for awhile.”

  That seemed to satisfy her and she gave me half a smile, probably still worried about me.

  ‘Why does this young woman keep hanging around,’ I asked myself again. ‘Surely she has better things to do than hang around a grizzly old man like me.’ I had to admit to myself that she impressed me though, not something that happened so quickly under normal circumstances, especially in young people. She had a very pronounced strength of character for someone so young, very remarkable.

  The plane was about ready to board. She informed me she would not be sitting with me this trip, saying she would talk to me in Atlanta if there was time, Cincinnati for sure. I also learned that she too lived in Allenville, a coincidence that gave me pause, just what were the chances of meeting someone in South America that lives in your home town?

  My suspicious mind started churning this over until the speaker announced we were boarding our flight. My suspicions were immediately replaced with the apprehension that always accompanied me when I flew. I shifted gears and concentrated instead on remaining calm until we were in the air.

  The plane was a small commuter job, so I experienced more than the normal anxiety on this flight. But it was a short hop to Atlanta (why are we flying south again?), where we made a quick transfer to the final plane for home.

  As I sat once again in the window seat, I was again reminded of my sweet Betty. She would have loved this adventure, and I could certainly use her investigative skills to help me with what I had facing me back home.

  “I love you,” I whispered to the window, and I heard her standard reply in my head, bringing a sad smile to my face and a tear to my eye.

  “Back at-cha buddy.”

  Chapter 15

  August 21, 1998

  The man returned to his quarters, hanging his hat on the pegs by the door with the others. Moving to the sink, he turned on the water before unbuttoning the soutane and reverently hanging it too on a peg by the door. Removing his undershirt and shorts, he then headed back to the sink. Taking up the large bar of lye soap, he started by lathering up his hands under the cold water before moving up his arms, scrubbing hard as he concentrated on cleansing one section of his body at a time. The ritual continued as he worked through the rest of the body, finished only when he rinsed off his head under the faucet.

  Removing a threadbare towel from a hook on the wall, he then dried everything, again, seeming to punish his skin further by excessive rubbing. It was like he was trying to rub some unseen filth from his body. Clean undergarments appeared from a small drawer next to the sink and he put these on quickly. Walking over to the wall, he removed an old well-worn robe from another hook, slipping its comforting fabric over his head.

  Pulling his leather testament from the soutane’s pocket, he headed across the room, kneeling in front of a small table as he lit a candle. He then crossed himself, kissed the cross on his neck, and opened the small book. Fi
nding the right page, he started reading the dead language like it was spilling off of the page, the words running together in what sounded like a low mumble.

  It came as it always did, first the calm enveloped him, increasing as he read farther on the page. Then the quiet would overtake him as his ears seemed to close off the mortal world around him. Sight was affected next, the darkness closing in around the outer edges of his vision, forcing his focus on the small volume gently held in his hands. As his vision blurred the letters on the page before him, he continued to recite the words from memory as the characters on the page seemed to melt into a series of straight lines.

  From these lines would then miraculously form the words he had been seeking, the name of the next one, affirmation that his duty had been performed well and that his work should continue.

  A smile formed on the man’s lips as he rejoiced in the continued confidence shown in his labors. Making a mental note of the name revealed, he would start the investigation the next morning, taking his time to ascertain all of the facts before coming up with a solution.

  As he finished up, he again crossed himself before standing. As he tried to stand however, his legs gave out from under him. These sessions often took a lot out of him, many times making him too weak to walk. Slowly he pulled himself over to the old cot, pulling himself up and slowly rolling onto the blanket. Covered with sweat, he was nevertheless very happy, extremely happy. The exertions were yet another small price he must pay in the fulfillment of his mission.

  The smile was still on his face as he fell instantly asleep, a dreamless and restorative sleep.

  Chapter 16

  August 21, 1998

  June 1, 1997