GNELFS

by Williams, Sidney

  It was his turn for a slight laugh.

  "I kind of know what you're talking about," she said. "It's hard to meet a man who's not scared away by your five-year-old."

  "And me, hell, I'm not that exciting as people go. Once you get past that notion that I do something a little different for a living, I'm worse than average."

  Gabrielle lifted her fingers to her temples. "Ah, life is so confusing. For the record, I like you, Tanner."

  "I like you too," he said doing a bad Nicholson impression followed by a broad grin and raised eyebrows.

  "You just met me."

  "I'm a sensitive artist."

  She didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say to him or what to ask him.

  He threw up his hands. "You've got enough to worry about without dealing with my emotions," he said. "I'll get out of your way. Uh, but if you need me you can call, or if you want somebody to talk to, I'm around. Maybe when it's leveled off we can talk again."

  “Let's stay in touch. I want to see you again. It's not that I don't. I hope you understand.”

  "I will stay in touch, just let me know. Maybe I can come by some.”

  “Soon. Really."

  He walked over to her and softly kissed her forehead before showing himself out. She stayed at the table for several minutes, her eyes closed, trying to sort things out. She had much to do, but for a while she just let the emotions range about inside her.

  After a minute or two, she got up, worry about Heaven winning out. She went to the small desk in the spare bedroom where she did her paperwork and dug Dave's number out of a cubbyhole. She didn't get an answer when she tried his house, and she had no work or cell number for him. She counted the time zones in her head, realized it was still early morning in California and found herself wondering where he must be. Sleeping with someone? Add some jealousy into the mix. Why not?

  Hanging up as the receiver still purred, she walked to the bathroom. She was just beginning to realize how tired she was, and viewing her face in the mirror crystallized the fatigue. Her eyes were red rimmed, her cheeks puffy. She wondered why Tanner had even hesitated to walk out.

  She felt guilty for letting her thoughts drift back to him. He had wedged himself between her and worry, but a flicker of anxiety cracked the dam and brought all of the fears back into her head.

  There was no way she could make sense out of this mess. It was as unexplainable as a ghost story. She pulled her hair back into a pony tail in preparation for a bath. She had to rest before she started trying to find an exorcist.

  She had turned the water on and was testing its temperature when the doorbell rang. Cursing under her breath, she told herself to be thankful she was not undressed and in the tub.

  She paused to look through the narrow window beside the door. The priest stood on the doorstep.

  She held her breath as she looked out at him. His face was weathered, and his dark eyes were weary, shrouded with a squint that conformed to deeply etched wrinkles. The morning wind tossed the tangles of his red hair about, but he seemed oblivious, like a sailor on the bow of a ship.

  Making sure the chain was in place, Gab eased the door open only a crack, ready to slam it.

  "What do you want?" she asked. "I thought this business was finished at the hospital."

  "It's far from finished," he said. "It's only begun."

  "What's going on? Who are you?"

  "I'm Danube. You need me."

  "Come from where?"

  "I've made a long journey."

  "How do I know you're not trying to hurt my daughter? And me too?"

  " Something strange has happened to you. Am I right?"

  "How do you know?"

  "I have to know. Knowledge is survival."

  "Of what?"

  He offered no answer.

  "Why don't you just leave me alone?"

  His eyes grew even more intense than they had at the hospital, but finally he nodded. "So be it." He bowed his head slightly;. "I wish you well."

  She closed the door without speaking again and realized she was sweating through. Her skin felt hot, but perspiration around her collar had chilled, making her neck feel as if she were being touched by ice.

  "Fuck you," she muttered under her breath as she leaned back against the door. Poltergeists in the living room and weirdos at the door.

  She looked out through the window again. He’d disappeared. She whispered prayerful thanks, then rechecked the doors to make sure they were secure.

  Another call to Dave's number drew no answer, so she returned to her bath. The hot water cleansed her of the sweat and worked on her muscles, but it did nothing to relieve the stress.

  ~*~

  She slept for a couple of hours before calling Marley. He showed up about mid-afternoon with Althea Rogers, a woman somewhere in her late forties. The set of her jaw was perhaps a bit too square, and early warnings of wrinkles were forming.

  Gab found her likable as she showed her into the living room and Althea settled on the couch, her dark eyes conveying genuine interest. After slipping her jacket off, she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, as she listened to Gab's account.

  Gabrielle tried to give as objective an account as possible. She felt the woman was analyzing her, but she was not intimidated.

  As Gabrielle's story unfolded, Marley sat at Althea's side, nodding from time to time. He placed an index finger against his temple, pushing a fold of skin toward his scalpline as he took in the information.

  "What can be wrong with her?" Gab asked. "I've never heard of anything like this."

  "It's unusual," the woman said. "Some trauma following a divorce is understandable, yet it sounds as if you've got some odd phenomenon accompanying it."

  "Can a child's mind bring on that sort of thing?"

  "There are things that go beyond explanation," Althea replied. "I've read of them in journals, been told of others by colleagues at conventions. We work very hard to gather explanations."

  "Are you saying my daughter can't be helped? You haven't even talked to her."

  "I'm not making any judgments. I just want you to understand. Marley called me for a couple of reasons. One is that I've counseled people who have been through ill-advised exorcisms and that sort of thing. I've learned answers are elusive at times."

  Her voice was matter-of-fact, but somewhere in her tone Gab detected a trace of cynicism. This woman didn't believe in answers.

  At Althea's request, she got a copy of the Gnelf storybook.

  "Is there anything in it harmful? I hear so much about children's books these days," Gab said, "but I never thought until the last few days there would be anything bad in these."

  "They appear to be typical cartoon characters," Althea said. “Not images that would normally frighten a child. Of course we can never tell what will trigger a child's fears. Darth Vader, the boogie man, bug bears, Santa Claus."

  She closed the book and placed it on the coffee table, and Gab immediately picked it up and held it against her with the cover turned inward. It had to be put away so Heaven wouldn't see it.

  "Do you want to talk to Heaven?"

  "Yes,” Althea said. "Let's bring her in." She turned to Marley. "It might be better if you wait in the kitchen. We don't want to intimidate her with a crowd, but I would like her mother here."

  Marley paused a moment, as if reluctant. He turned his lips inward as he nodded. "I guess you're right."

  Rising, he showed himself into the next room.

  ~*~

  "Hi there," Althea said when Heaven was seated beside her.

  The reply was soft, barely audible.

  "How are you feeling today?"

  Another almost inaudible sound: "Fine." The child's head was bowed, her lower lip protruding in something like a pout.

  Althea went on with the small talk for a while, asking Heaven about school and incidental matters. The child admitted she didn't care much for school and that she didn't have many friends, but ot
herwise she answered questions as concisely as possible, usually with a single word.

  Slowly, almost gracefully, the psychologist guided the conversation around to the events of the night before. Her voice softened and she leaned slightly toward the girl, careful to be comforting and not intimidating.

  "You had quite a scare last night," she said.

  "Yes."

  "Can you tell me what happened?"

  For a moment, Heaven remained quiet, sullen. Her hair hung down around her face like a veil protecting her from reality. "I don't remember," she whispered.

  "Now, your mom wants me to talk to you because she's worried about what went on. She doesn't understand it either, and we want to figure it out. We need your help. Do you understand?"

  Heaven's head bobbed slightly, but she didn't speak anymore.

  "Do you remember what happened at all?"

  Again Heaven gave no answer. She sat on her hands. Her feet dangled above the floor, and her heels bounced against the couch.

  "All right, we won't bother with it for now," Althea said. "But I was wondering about something else. Your mommy told me that you'd had some bad dreams about the Gnelfs."

  Heaven breathed inward, a bit sharply. It was not a gasp, but her pout seemed to deepen. "Sometimes.”

  “Aren't they your friends?"

  "They're just stories."

  "Do you think the Gnelfs would hurt you?"

  Silence except for breathing.

  "Heaven, did the Gnelfs have anything to do with what happened last night?"

  Without speaking, the child stared at her feet. Her wide blue eyes were almost glassy.

  "I guess we'll stop for now," Althea said. She motioned for Gab to join her in the kitchen once Heaven was put back to bed. They found Marley sitting at the table, idly staring out the window.

  "Any results?" he asked, jolting back to reality.

  Althea shook her head as she leaned against the cabinet. "She's shutting it all out—or in."

  "What do you mean?" Gab demanded.

  "She's keeping something in. She doesn't want to lie. You've probably taught her that's bad, so she's not saying anything at all."

  Gab felt blood pulsing in her temples.

  "Why would she be keeping it to herself?"

  "She's frightened. Understandably. Something strange has taken place. It has left her disoriented."

  "But there is some kind of explanation for all this? I mean this is reality, not Twilight Zone."

  Althea looked over at Marley, and then her gaze fell back on Gabrielle. "There is an explanation," she said. "I'm just not sure what it is. There is much we don't understand about the mind. I'm afraid Reverend Marley and I don't always agree on this sort of thing."

  Gab turned to Marley. "You're not implying there's something more? Some crazy priest came around this morning, acting like something mystical was taking place."

  "I believe very much in a spiritual world," Marley said.

  Gab felt her heart thundering in her chest. The pressure of tears was building behind her eyes. She didn't want to hear this from these people. They were supposed to be telling her everything would be all right. Her friend had introduced her to them. How could she have found a counselor who was now telling her something beyond reasonable explanation was taking place?

  "Maybe I need some time to think this over." Gab ran a hand across her forehead. "It's all very difficult to understand, and I'm very tired."

  Marley took a card from his pocket and placed it on the table. "You can reach me if you need me," he said.

  Gab nodded, watching silently as they exited through the kitchen door. The last thing she needed was a would-be exorcist or a well-meaning psychologist who'd want to publish a paper on the phenomenon of her daughter.

  ~*~

  He heard the crowd's jeers and laughter. They threw things, bits of wood and stone, and they spat on him as he struggled through their midst. He was trying to follow the dirt path to his home, but they would not let him pass. They had learned who he was. Someone always learned.

  How many times had they thrown stones at him? How many times had he been hated? All of the assaults ran together now; all of the people who despised him had the same faces.

  Danube rolled over, half-awake as the dream continued, vividly re-creating the past, the long-ago trek into the mountains.

  With a single guide beside him, he had ridden a mule up the narrow, winding path. Pitted and pocked by erosion, the trail was brutal, and winter's harsh breath had seemed to urge him to turn back.

  He remembered the gray sky and the clouds so thick and threatening. Snow had come halfway through the trip, blinding, almost a blizzard, and the guide had wanted to turn back. As wind whipped at their clothing and white flakes clung to their eyelashes, only the reminder that he was being well paid kept the guide from leaving.

  The convent was perched high in the mountains, and the chilling wind remained relentless as their mounts climbed onward.

  The nuns had been waiting, a circle of stern-faced women of various ages, dressed in severe black habits. They showed him and his guide into a broad sitting room, where a fire blazed in an ancient fireplace. The orange glow heated the huge stones and gave off a warmth that seeped through his chilled skin as he peeled off layers of sweaters and scarves.

  The room had high ceilings and was decorated with icons of the Virgin and of Christ. As feeling returned to his face and limbs, he looked up at the paintings of the crucified figure and at another which showed him holding his heart in his hands. Then he turned away, looking back into the eyes of the sisters who stood in a line at the edge of the room, their arms crossed within the folds of their habits. They were seven in number, and each one gazed at him accusingly.

  They knew who he was. He made no attempt at denial.

  "I have come to seek atonement," he said. "I have been a vagabond for too long."

  "You will still wander the lands of the Earth," said the Mother Superior. "That will not end."

  "I understand. I do not seek a home, only a purpose. It has been meaningless for too many years."

  "Your task will not be easy," said the old nun. Her face was rugged, lined as if she could match every year he had known. He knew that was not true. At seventy, she was much younger than he.

  "Our order is small," the old woman said. "We spend most of our time in prayer. You will carry the support of those prayers when you investigate things which need our attention. We do not leave the convent. You will be our eyes and our agent. You will purify yourself, and you will remain as such."

  "Understood." He'd had his share of fulfillments which had not touched his soul.

  He sat up in bed, the memories of the old nun's face in the flickering firelight fading from his thoughts.

  Had he found what he was looking for? After all these years had there been fulfillment in the quest for righteousness?

  He had kept his vows, had done as instructed by the nuns on what seemed a thousand journeys around the globe. He had earned scars and tears, yet he had faced the things of evil without flinching, things that would have sent many men scurrying for safety.

  Yet what difference had he made? The world got worse. Things changed, governments softened their power, but did people change?

  He walked to the window, looking down on another street. He was staying in the Clairmont, a renovated downtown hotel in Aimsley, elegant and quiet. Unfortunately the accommodations offered no solace.

  He watched the faint misty rain falling beyond the glass and wondered what it would take for Gabrielle to accept his help.

  Chapter 8

  Katrina called around seven P.M. Heaven was resting, and Gabrielle had just finished an effort to eat a frozen dinner.

  "You still haven't figured out what's going on?" Katrina asked.

  "Reverend Marley and his friend were kind of spooky about it all. They made me nervous."

  "Well it is kind of spooky," Katrina said. "Can you explain it?"

&n
bsp; "No, but with the psychologist and that weird priest that came by, on top of all that's happened I don't know what to think. It's like you wake up one morning and find out the sky is green and the grass is blue."

  "Heaven still hasn't said anything?"

  " If she knows what happened, she's keeping it to herself, and I still haven't been able to raise Dave to discuss it."

  "Men."

  "I don't know what to make of Dave. I don't expect him to keep in touch, but you'd think he'd check on his daughter more."

  "He's probably off pouting. Men do that. He'll get over it in time."

  "Well, I haven't got time to worry about his immaturity. I've got Heaven to think about, work to worry about. I'm going to eat up my sick leave the way things are going. I have to stay with Heaven again tomorrow."

  "They're usually pretty good about that kind of thing," Katrina said. "You're a single parent. They have to take that into account."

  That statement stuck with Gabrielle. She was a single parent. She'd never thought of herself that way, but it was true. She had expected a perfect marriage, a normal family life. The world just didn't allow for that anymore. Everything was screwed up. Dave had been so immature and self-centered, the result of being spoiled and pampered by his parents.

  Now Heaven was being affected by something. God, what kind of life would the child face when she was traumatized this early?

  Gabrielle had always counted herself lucky that she had remained basically unscathed by life. Growing up, she'd had a fairly stable family, and she hadn't gone through the bad things some of her friends had faced. Until now. She had to find a way to protect Heaven—and to get her help.

  Tomorrow she would contact a different psychologist, someone more traditional. Althea was skeptical about Marley's inclination, but she wasn't as quick to dismiss the strange as Gab would have liked. She shook her head, realizing she was upset because Althea hadn't told her what she wanted to hear, that nothing was wrong. Hoping for that wasn't going to do her daughter any good.

  Tonight, Heaven was sleeping in her mother's bed. Stepping into her bedroom, Gabrielle sat gently on the edge. The child seemed to be sleeping peacefully, covers tucked just below her chin. A teddy bear was embraced by her left arm.