GNELFS

by Williams, Sidney

  That would make her seriously question his character.

  Eventually they did offer Heaven the cartoon opportunity again. She thought it over and seemed a bit reluctant, but she finally nodded. "I guess it'd be good," she said. He had managed to buy adventures she'd been wanting to see for a long time, and that seemed to outweigh her fear.

  Gab noticed that she seemed a little pale, but thought perhaps it was best to let her get back on the horse, so to speak. Heaven had loved the Gnelfs so much, Gab hated to see one nightmare alienate her from them.

  They fixed her a seat in front of the television, and Tanner put on Gnelf Voyages. It flickered on with a bright musical tune as the Good Ship Gnelfgalley rolled across the sea. The animation was good, and at the sight of the happy Gnelf crew, Heaven seemed to forget her fears.

  Gab helped Tanner carry the plates into the kitchen, and she fell right into the routine of clean up:

  "So what are you after from me, Tanner?" she asked.

  He grinned and looked over at her from his place at the sink, one eyebrow cocked slightly. "Straightforward, aren't you?”

  "I'm just very tired of life," she said. "Games and lines, you know. My marriage didn't work out and I followed that with a bad relationship, so I'm scared these days."

  He ran a sponge across one of the plates as water poured down on it from the faucet.

  "I didn't really have a major agenda," he confessed. "I just thought you were nice, and it seemed you liked me a little."

  "Maybe I did. But I'm nosey as hell. How come you haven't married?"

  "Haven't met the right girl. The thing is I'm basically boring once you get to know me. Writing looks glamorous and all that, but it isn't really. The girls I fall in love with always seem to be going somewhere else. Besides, I'm shy."

  "You didn't seem that shy with me."

  "You were nice to me. Sometimes women look at me, and it feels like they've got ice in their souls."

  She smiled. "Sometimes I think men are the same way."

  "No wonder it's so hard for people to get together. They've always got their signals crossed."

  They studied each other's eyes for a long stretch of seconds, but they did not move to each other. She didn't want to make the first step—she'd just met him that morning—and she wasn't sure she wanted him to move either. Kissing, touching, Heaven in the next room. She didn't particularly want that.

  Finally she broke eye contact. "It's getting late," she said. "I'd better get Heaven home."

  "Wait before you go."

  He disappeared for a few moments and returned with one of his books, which he quickly signed: To Gabrielle, best wishes to the girl I met at my reading.

  "That's sweet," she said. She closed the cover and moved over to the couch on which Heaven had fallen asleep. Apparently Heaven hadn't been watching the video. She'd probably only allowed it to be put on to be polite. Following orders to make Mommy happy, Gab thought. At least she was trying to give her a fighting chance.

  ~*~

  The next sign of trouble didn't come until Sunday evening.

  In the early part of the day, Gabrielle had to report to Katrina, who called after returning from church. She demanded answers and seemed disappointed.

  "I thought this was going to be exciting," she said.

  "Maybe next time," Gabrielle said. "The last thing I need is to rush into something."

  After the conversation, she hung up and realized a knot of anxiety had formed in her stomach. She really didn't want to rush into anything, but now she was afraid he might not call again.

  "Screwed-up world," she muttered.

  She was fixing supper when she heard Heaven scream. The pot she was holding slipped from her fingers, clanging into the sink as she wheeled around and rushed through the swinging door into the living room.

  Heaven was huddled on the couch, her eyes staring into nothingness as she clutched a pillow against her chest, shivering. Sweat dappled her forehead and moistened her bangs, pasting them to her scalp. Her face had gone pale, and tremors ran through her small body, making her shudder as if she were having a seizure. And her breathing was too fast, much too fast.

  Gabrielle moved toward her, trying to embrace her, but Heaven began to shake her head in a brisk, jerking motion.

  "Baby!"

  Heaven pulled away from her, scrambling backward across the couch. She was so frightened, she was in shock and didn't recognize Gab.

  Reaching forward, Gab grabbed her daughter and pulled her against her own body. The child twisted and fought violently, displaying a strength Gab had never dreamed she possessed. She was so small, yet she was like an animal, wild and struggling for survival.

  "Heaven," Gab shouted, almost screaming due to her own hysteria. "It's all right, honey. It's Mommy. It's all right."

  Muffled squeaks escaped Heaven's lips as her struggles continued. Tiny fists pounded into Gab's back, and she continued to twist about. Gabrielle was forced to grip her tighter. She feared Heaven would hurt herself, bump into the hard edge of the coffee table or even charge into the wall.

  "Heaven, it's Mommy," she repeated.

  "They're after me," Heaven screamed. She drew air deep into her lungs. "They want to hurt me. They want to kill me."

  Gabrielle held her tightly. She could feel Heaven's thundering heartbeat, and hot slashes of breath bounced off Gab's neck.

  "Nothing is here," Gabrielle shouted. "Nothing is here."

  "The Gnelfs are after me."

  "Honey, it must have been another dream. You must have had another nightmare. You dozed off on the couch."

  "They want to hurt me. They want to hurt you, Mommy."

  Gab felt her fear subside. At least she was calling her Mommy now. Heaven knew who she was. She'd regained some sense of reality.

  "Get hold of yourself," Gab said. "There's nothing to be afraid of, baby. Please."

  "The Gnelfs. They're after me."

  "No, baby." Gab's hands went to Heaven's face. Holding the child's head still, she looked into her eyes. "Listen to me, baby. There's nothing here. You fell asleep and had a bad dream again. The Gnelfs aren't going to hurt you."

  Heaven's eyes, like marbles now, stood out in their sockets. She drew quick gasps of air in through her lips, unwilling to accept her mother's words. Gabrielle hugged her, pressing her cheek against Heaven's and trying to let the shelter of her arms bring comfort. Heaven clung to her, still trembling, still crying, but slowly she began to calm.

  Gab spoke soothing words, assuring her all was well, touching her hair and caressing her face. For warmth, she pressed her body against the child's, praying things would settle down as she felt her daughter's tiny, rapid heartbeat.

  After fixing Heaven warm milk and getting her into her pajamas and tucked into bed, Gab called Katrina.

  "Gnelfs again."

  "Didn't you say she watched them at what's 'is name's?"

  "Yes. She seemed fine over there. Then tonight she blew up."

  "She didn't want to watch the Gnelfs when she was over here," Katrina said. “I figured it was because of the dream, and I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry you."

  "That means it's not just that she's feeling threatened by me seeing Jake. I mean, it crossed my mind."

  "Could be she saw the attention she got when she had a bad dream, got worried about this guy, and played on it. Kids can be sneaky, even if they don't know they are."

  "What about at your house?"

  "Don't get angry, but it could have been for attention there too. I mean later she watched the shows because she didn't want you getting aggravated. Now, she's thinking, Mommy has a new man, will she forget about me? Then she dozes off or whatever, and maybe her subconscious reminds her you paid her a lot of mind when she had a nightmare. So she has another one."

  "But, Katrina, she was scared to death."

  "The fear is real … maybe. She could be scared of losing your love. Hell, I'm not a child psychiatrist. Could be something s
he ate again if she watched them last night without any problems and the dreams kicked in again today."

  "What should I do?"

  Katrina paused a moment. "Do you have a pastor?"

  "No. We were married in the Episcopal church, but we haven't been participating members."

  "Let me call my pastor. He can probably recommend somebody you can take her to see. That kind of referral is easiest."

  "A psychologist?"

  "Possibly. No big deal. But it'll give you peace of mind, won't it?"

  "It just feels funny to think about taking her to see a shrink. It's like admitting your child is crazy."

  "Not crazy," Katrina said. "Her world has been shaken up. That's a strain. There are things going on in her head she probably isn't even fully aware of. Maybe it's best to have someone help sort them out."

  Gabrielle ran a hand through her hair. "I guess one visit can't hurt. They'll give me time off at the office for that, won't they?"

  "They'd better," Katrina said. She was accustomed to standing up for rights against bosses.

  "I guess I'll give it a try," Gab said finally. "Maybe it'll head off trouble."

  Although she was wrong, the statement gave her a feeling of optimism.

  Chapter 4

  The coins fell like raindrops, a shower of glistening metal that tumbled through darkness in a steady stream. They twirled and turned, end over end, and jangling as they touched, finally clattering into the palms of two outstretched hands, pooling, cold and hard, the smell of metal mingling with perspiration to create a sick, stagnant smell.

  He sat up abruptly, hands at his sides, staring at the gray wall, confused and disoriented. Then, slowly, he stopped shaking, and, with one hand, wiped perspiration from the portions of his cheeks not covered by his thick red beard.

  The sheet over him was damp from the sweat that always covered him when he awoke from the dreams. He threw it aside and climbed from the bed, walking naked to the window.

  With a tug of the cord, he opened the blinds slightly so he might look out on the city. It was raining, and the clouds had smeared a grimy gray haze across the sky. Like tears, raindrops spattered against the glass and trickled along its cold surface in erratic networks which cast shadows back onto his face and chest. Against his skin they appeared black. Shadows of black teardrops, he thought.

  He looked down toward the street, at the rainbow of umbrellas which bobbed along, people in raincoats. Some of those below attempted to cover their heads with newspapers, which quickly became soaked and looked like wet leaves.

  He would not miss the city. Turning, he walked back across the creaking floor of the hotel room and sat on the mattress. The springs protested his weight as he settled himself and sipped from the water glass on the night table.

  The water was room temperature and had a stale taste, but it soothed some of the rot off his tongue. Placing the glass back on the tabletop, he picked up folded, brittle pages.

  They had found him again, now that they needed him. He never knew how. Not how they found him or how they knew where or when he should go. It didn't really matter. He was ready.

  He would not argue. He looked down at the carefully lettered address on the envelope. It was almost like calligraphy, his name being the single word above the general delivery instruction: DANUBE.

  How long had that served as his term of recognition? His name? Names didn't matter anymore. Danube was enough, and it carried as much meaning as a name. The Danube wandered, twisting through many lands. His path had done the same, carrying him around the world so many times. Too many to count, but enough, more than enough.

  He was a vagabond. It was a role he had accepted, a role he could not have refused even if he had wanted. He thought often of destiny, of the unfairness of it all, but he did not complain. It could serve no purpose if he did.

  He walked into the dingy bathroom, where he showered and performed his toilet in a quick, efficient fashion. Then he threw his few belongings into the battered black suitcase, saving only the clothes he would wear before throwing the catches into place.

  He slipped on the black pants and shirt quickly, took only a moment to dust off the jacket before sliding it over his shoulders. The raincoat crinkled as he put it on, but the wrinkles quickly fell off. Last of all, he walked to the mirror and slipped the Roman collar into place.

  ~*~

  The minister's office was small with dark carpeting and a Van Gogh reproduction on one wall, plaques and civic honors on the wall behind the metal desk. The Reverend Richard Marley seemed a bit uncomfortable. In his late thirties he might have looked better in a sweat shirt and jeans than he did in the plaid sports shirt and blazer he wore along with a tie.

  Was it in Updike or Cheever Gabrielle had read of a staid old minister who would have looked like he was wearing a tight collar and suit even in his undershirt? She couldn't recall, but Marley was the opposite.

  His brown hair was neatly trimmed yet tousled in a boyish fashion, and his eyes were clear blue and piercing. He seemed charming, although Katrina had warned he could go a little toward the deep end if you let him start talking about spiritual matters. He wasn't a fundamentalist, but he tended to take a lot of things literally. On the positive side, however, he had a way of pinpointing kids' problems. That had led to the recommendation by Katrina's pastor.

  "So you've been having trouble with Gnelfs?" he asked.

  “They keep scaring me," Heaven said meekly, a little intimidated. Here was another new man being introduced into her life to add to the confusion. Gab was wondering if this was such a good idea.

  Marley smiled. "A big girl like you, afraid?"

  Heaven nodded. Although Gabrielle had dressed her in pale blue slacks and a brightly colored blouse, her mood remained somber. "They say bad things," the child explained. "They want to hurt me."

  The minister remained jovial. "Now, Heaven, you know they can't hurt you.”

  "They come in my dreams." She went on to tell him how they had marched through her thoughts carrying pitchforks and other weapons.

  "Why do you think the Gnelfs would want to hurt you?" Marley asked.

  "They're mad at Mommy for some reason, and they know how much Mommy loves me."

  Marley chewed on the inside of his lip, thinking that over. "They think it would upset Mommy if they bother you?"

  Heaven nodded in the affirmative. "Yes, sir," she said, remembering her mother was beside her.

  Marley frowned. "How do you know that, Heaven?”

  “They said so. Some of them. Others made fun of me. Like the kids at school sort of. Only meaner.”

  “They make fun of you at school?"

  Gab started to answer, but Marley cocked an eyebrow to silence her. He wanted Heaven's answer.

  "Sometimes. They pick on me and stuff."

  "Does that bother you?"

  "Yes. Yes, sir."

  "Do any of the Gnelfs look like the kids at school?”

  “No."

  With his eyes, Marley indicated to Gabrielle he thought he'd found something but that the line of questioning hadn't paid off.

  "Did the Gnelfs say why they're mad at Mommy?”

  “No."

  "You haven't been mad at Mommy, have you?"

  "No!"

  "Not even deep down?"

  Heaven twisted her head from side to side.

  "All right. Do they mention your daddy?"

  Again she shook her head, then: "No, sir."

  Marley leaned back in his chair. "Are you a good girl?"

  "Yes, sir. Always."

  "You haven't done anything wrong that you want to tell us about?"

  "No. I'm good."

  He folded his arms. "All right then, Heaven. Let me tell you. The Good Lord looks after his children, and I know he's not going to let the Gnelfs hurt you. You just trust in that. I don't want you to be afraid anymore.”

  Bowing her head slightly, almost sullenly, Heaven nodded. "Okay."

  "Good girl.
Now why don't you sit outside with Mrs. Simmons while I talk to your mommy?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "I've never thought the show was frightening or anything," Gabrielle said, once the door had closed. "I am careful about what I let her watch."

  The pastor steepled his fingers and considered the dilemma silently. "It's hard to say what will scare kids," he said. "Their imaginations are quite active, and they haven't developed the ability to distinguish between the real and the imagined as you and I have. When I was little I remember being scared by the witch in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs or was it Sleeping Beauty? What was her name?"

  Gabrielle smiled. "For me it was a movie called Two on a Guillotine. Dean Jones was the hero, to give you an idea of how really scary it was."

  "I remember it. Cesar Romero is a magician."

  "And they bury him in a glass coffin." Gab mocked a shiver. "Oooo, it got to me."

  They laughed. “I don't think such things are really damaging," Marley said.

  "Have you ever dealt with any similar problems?"

  "People are always concerned about children's programs. They do tend to inject them with New Age philosophies these days, and that concerns some people. Once in a while the ideas reflect concepts from Eastern religions. Symbols turn up that are rather esoteric." He shook his head. "You can never tell what someone is going to protest. I'm very cautious, myself. In spiritual matters it's never good to jump the gun."

  "I was just afraid this might be a symptom of something caused by the divorce," Gabrielle confessed.

  "Maybe it is," Marley said, shaking his head again. "I can't really get at anything, but I'm not a child psychologist. I can recommend a counselor who is pretty good with kids if it keeps up, but I would say give it a couple of days to see if it’s just a temporary thing. No need to put her through a lot of trauma needlessly."

  "I suppose you're right.”

  "You're welcome to visit us on Sunday morning."

  Gab smiled and nodded, making her way to the door as politely as possible. She collected Heaven in the outer office and took her home.