Gabriel's Revenge (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 2) (5 page)

Chapter 11

August 21, 1998

I sat there looking out the window for quite awhile, thinking of Betty and Frank, feeling the shame of a man who has let everyone he cares about in his life down. I continued to wallow for a few moments until I again realized how pointless the guilt was right then.

“Stop it damn it!”
  I mumbled to myself.

“What?” my seatmate asked, having just finished the last of my meal and hers.

I looked toward Abby, ready to jump down her throat for butting into my life. Finding a worried face of someone who seemed truly concerned, I decided on a different tact.

Putting on a little smile, I explained that I was just talking to myself, a condition that I was apt to repeat at almost any time.

A relieved look crossed her face, “That’s good, I was a little worried Gabe; I do that all of the time too. It’s like,
‘You ditz, why did you do that’?
”

“People are always looking at me like I’m crazy. You’d probably just wanna leave me at home most of the time…I mean, you know, if you’d known me in the past and didn’t want to be embarrassed in public or something.”

She quickly picked up her magazine and started paging through way too quickly to be reading anything, seeming almost embarrassed. I had not noticed anything embarrassing up to that point, but thinking back to her last sentence, I was confounded by the wording. The more I thought of it, the more I realized that there seemed to be an underlying personalizing to it, maybe too personal.

I quickly shook it off; ‘
I guess I see a mystery in everything these days,’
I thought as I dug out my journal from beside me on the seat.

Just as I opened it up however I felt a sudden weightless sensation before my head hit the ceiling! I hung there for what seemed like ten seconds before dropping and plopping down in my seat. I quickly grabbed for my belt with shaking hands, quickly clicking the buckle before looking up again.

I now noticed that the seatbelt light is lit; I guess I missed it when it came on at some point in the past. A cold sweat covered my face; flying was not my favorite form of travel anyway. Looking over at Abby, I saw her looking back at me with concern in her face yet again.

“You ok, Gabe?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine….as soon as we get on the ground.”

“Sorry about that folks,”
we heard the pilot’s exaggerated southern accent start on the overhead speaker,
“we hit some turbulence from Hurricane Bonnie, dropped us over ah hundred feet. We are increasing our altitude to get above this system. Good thing we had the seat belt light on!”

A bong sounded to let us know he was done with his announcement. I was still trying to recover from my experiences, my heart rate ticking in my now aching head like a fast watch. Looking out the window and trying to get some control over my being, I felt a hand lay gently over mine. I grabbed onto it like one would a life preserver in a stormy sea, instantly comforted by the touch.

I continued to stare out the window as my heart slowed, maybe too embarrassed to look at my new friend, maybe a little guilty to find that I needed help from someone. As my body began to relax, my eyes are heavy once again, and soon I was sleeping, my hand still gripping hers.

***

I woke up to the bustle of activity, feeling us descending into DC. Realizing that I still had Abby’s hand in mine, I quickly release it, making a show of finding my journal on the floor.

I picked it up and held it on my lap, staring at the family cross etched into the front of the old leather.

“That’s an interesting cross on there; what does it stand for?” Abby asked, staring at the book.

“Part of my family’s crest; my grandfather designed it long ago.” I said a little too reverently.

“Do you mind if I see?” she asked, seemingly unsure as to what my reaction will be.

I hesitated a moment, but then relented and handed it to her. She took it respectfully, showing the admiration of someone that appreciated an old book. Holding it in her left hand, she traced the outline of the cross with her right hand, her fingers tenderly taking in all of the tool marks, as well as some battle scars obtained after the original etching.

“That’s neat!” she said with enthusiasm as she handed it back to me. “Family means a lot.”

I nodded my head in agreement, but my concentration was on the approaching landing. Although outwardly I appeared under control, my hidden right hand was in a death grip on the arm rest, my knuckles growing whiter as we got closer to the runway.

Finally I heard the sound of the tires touching land, and I slowly relaxed my grip. My new friend and I were silent as we rolled to the gate. I was relieved that we were on the ground, but I was still slightly worried about the next two flights before reaching home.

As the plane came to a stop, people started to unbuckle and stand up to grab the luggage in the overhead. Abby was gathering up her stuff and getting ready to stand when I lightly clasped her arm.

As she looked over at me, I looked her in the eyes and said, “Thank you.”

She smiled a knowing smile, and for once she seemed not to have anything to add. I quickly asked her if I could buy her a cup off coffee.

She nodded her head enthusiastically, adding, “I love coffee!”

Somehow I figured she might.

Chapter 12

August 21, 1998

The man finished wiping the band of his wide brimmed hat, then replaced it on his head before removing his glasses and drying the lenses. The perspiration from his exertions was a minor annoyance compared to the exhilaration of his work.

He had thought that he might have been able to get through to Bill tonight, but in the end, he had not. A sigh escaped the man’s lips as he pondered his client’s stubbornness.

“Nothing to be done about it now,” the man stated with finality.

They had made great strides on the other matters however, the paperwork. Bill was greatly concerned about his family’s future should anything happen to him, and the man had spent a great deal of time with his client going over bank statements and insurance policies.

Everything seemed in order; Bill’s wife and daughter would be more than adequately cared for when Bill left this world. The man had even congratulated Bill on his forethought in these matters; many of his clients had needed much more in the way of financial counseling on his visits.

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 probably 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?!”