“V,” said Michael, a red-haired boy in the front row, and Ms. Taylor added another leg to the hangman drawing on the board.
A pencil behind her ear, Anita, shiny braces covering her teeth and her ebony hair braided all the way to her waist, raised her hand. “D?”
Her answer gave the hangman his second leg.
As the class kept guessing, Gabriel crouched down in his chair, letting his hazelnut hair fall in his face. He had figured out the answer long before the hangman eventually died on the noose, but he didn’t raise his hand. He never did. They would all look at him if he did. The mere thought made his hands tremble.
At lunch time, Gabriel settled into his usual seat in the corner of the cafeteria where the buzz of voices seemed more distant. Others came to sit at his table. As they approached, Gabriel turned away and rested his head on his arm. He let his hair fall in his face again, shielding himself from classmates he had never spoken to. He was still picking at his food when a loud clattering noise from the other side of the cafeteria suddenly drew his attention as well as everyone else’s.
Kneeling on the floor, Daniel West hurried to pick up his food and placed it back on his tray. Around him, the captain of the soccer team and those following him like dogs, their faces in grotesque sneers, stood laughing.
Gabriel couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he saw Daniel’s eyes tear up as one of them kicked the apple he reached for across the room. Again, the group laughed.
As they walked by Gabriel’s table, their eyes barely swept over him, never focusing. Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know why people tended to overlook him, but in that moment, he was grateful for it.
***
The sun already hung low in the sky when Andril and his companions finally reached the settlement by the Crossing Lakes. In the last town they had passed through, the town speaker had told them that a man matching their description had been seen heading this way.
Sliding out of the saddle, they tied their horses to a pole by a watering trough and headed toward the house located at the center of the small settlement. With two-levels, it towered over the other houses, most of which were made of wood instead of brick. Gusts of smoke rose from its chimney, and a warm glow poured out the windows. Laughter and singing reached their ears as the four men walked up to the door.
All heads turned to them as they entered the candle-lit room. A group of tables stood in its center, the chairs’ occupants eyeing them warily. In the stone fireplace at the back wall, flames danced on the logs arranged in a circle in the hearth.
“Can I help ya folks?” A middle-aged man, heavy-set with bushy eyebrows drawn down, came toward them. Wiping his hands on his apron, he looked them over. “Need a room?”
Laran stepped forward. “We do, yes.” He held out a small purse.
As the man took it, his face lit up. “And a meal. You look famished if you don’t mind me sayin’.” Weighing the purse in his hands, he smiled as the coins rattled. “I'm Sal, the innkeeper.”
Choosing a table a little off to the side, overlooking the rest of the room, they sat down to a hot meal. While enjoying the innkeeper’s well-boiled stew, they noticed the other guests’ attention more and more slipping from them and returning to their own conversations. By the time they pushed away empty bowls, barely anyone even glanced in their direction.
Discreetly, Andril beckoned over the innkeeper as he saw him reappear from the kitchen.
“Anythin’ else I can do for ya?” Sal asked.
Andril nodded. “We are looking for someone, and we were told that he had been seen riding in the direction of this settlement.”
Sal looked them over. “You bounty hunters, ay?”
“Something like that,” Andril said, his voice dropping a little. “The man was described to us as tall, about six feet, lean but walking with authority. His dark hair is laced with grey and tied in the back. He has a small scar just below his chin. Has anyone matching that description recently come through here?”
Sal’s head bobbed up and down. “Yeah, now that ya mention it. He was a bit spooky. Wanted a room, naughtin else. Stayed two days. Spoke to no one.” Then his eyes widened. “Only the night before he left, there came another man. They sat in the back, heads low, always whisperin’. Struck me as odd.”
“What did the man look like?” Andril asked. His companions leaned in closer, listening. Their faces burned with excitement like his own.
“He—”
A hand touched his shoulder and made Gabriel’s heart jump. Eyes wide, he spun around.
“What are you doing?” his father asked, peering at the screen. “Not those games again. Seriously, turn that darn thing off and go outside.” He shook his head. “Call your friends, play soccer or…I don’t know…whatever it is you kids do these days.” He brushed a hand over Gabriel’s head. “Just do something, okay?”
Gabriel nodded. “Sure, Dad.”
“Good.” Adjusting his tie, his father glanced at the alarm clock on Gabriel’s nightstand. “I gotta go. Listen, I got a conference call with Tokyo tonight so I won’t make it to dinner. Could you do me a favor and tell your mom?”
“Why don’t you tell her?” Gabriel asked, remembering that his mother would not be home for dinner either.
“Eh…” His father shrugged, his eyes avoiding his son’s. “My phone is dead, and I forgot the charger at the office. You know me, by the time I get there, I’ll probably have forgotten all about it. See you tomorrow.”
Staring at the closed door, through which his father had left, Gabriel felt his nails dig into his palms. Only when the pain became unbearable was he able to uncurl his fingers. A moment later, he heard a cell phone ring and then his father’s voice as he picked up. Dead phone, Gabriel thought.
***
Hoods drawn deep into their faces, Andril and Laran raced their horses across the lowlands while wind and rain, shoving inland from the sea, tore at their cloaks and soaked them through. They would both have preferred hot tea and a roaring fire. However, early that morning the stranger had left the inn and headed north. While Gavin and Ran remained at the inn and would try to trace the whereabouts of Yanir, Darkin’s old friend, come morning, Andril and Laran had set off after the stranger.
At midday, he had stopped once for a quick meal, but soon after he had gotten back in the saddle and raced onward as though the devil were after him. Andril and Laran had trouble keeping up. At least with the deafening storm muffling every sound, they didn’t need to be afraid that he would spot them. Far ahead, he was only visible as a tiny dot on a darkening horizon.
A knock on the door tore Andril from the plains of Candor and dumped Gabriel back in his room.
He glanced out the window at the disappearing sun. Another day had come and gone, and he hadn’t even noticed. Closing his eyes for a second, he sighed. “Come in.”
“Hey, there,” his mother said, a crooked smile on her face. “Do you have a minute?”
Gabriel nodded.
Eyes on the floor, his mother wrung her hands as she sat down on his bed. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” She smoothed out a crease in her dress before turning to look at him. “Your dad and I will be really…busy the next couple of weeks, and we don’t think you should be on your own all summer. So…”
Goosebumps rose on Gabriel’s arms, and he rubbed them absentmindedly.
“We thought you should go stay with your grandparents.” Once more, her eyes shifted to the floor as she picked at her cuticles. “They’d love to see you again, and it would just be for a couple of weeks. Not the whole summer.”
Gabriel took a deep breath. “What?” he asked, his voice almost gone. “Why?” Trembling, his hands balled into fists while he tried to keep them still.
Finally meeting his eyes, his mother grabbed the armrest of his revolving chair and pulled him over. “It’ll be good for you,” she said, taking his hand. “You shouldn’t be alone all the time.”
r /> Pulling his hand out of hers, Gabriel got up and walked across the room. “But I don’t mind being alone. Can’t I just stay here? I promise I won’t be in the way.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” his mother said, a smile on her face. “That’s not what this is about. You need to get out, be with…real people. You spend all your time in your room with that darn thing,” she shook her head at his computer, “and I don’t think that this is good for you.”
“It’s all the fighting that’s not good for me!” Gabriel shouted, shocked at his own words. The moment they were out, his eyes turned to the floor.
He heard his mother rise from his bed and take a step toward him. “I'm sorry it got a little loud lately.” She took a deep breath. “But that's over now. Everything is fine. This is not about us. This is about you. We're just doing what’s best for you. And you spending three months locked in your room with your eyes glued to the screen is not what’s best for you. I’m sorry I have to pull the parent card, but it’s settled. You’re going.”
As he heard the door close behind his mother, Gabriel sunk to the floor and put his head on his knees. He felt light-headed as though the whole world was spinning. A wave of nausea rolled over him, and yet, his limbs were as heavy as lead. He couldn’t even muster the strength to lift his head.
Over the course of the last year, he had lost his parents. Day by day, they had slowly moved away from him. And now, they wanted to take away the last person he could count on. Andril.
“I hate you,” he whispered to the empty room.
Chapter 3 – Welcome to Kenton Woods
After a ten-hour train ride and another two hours in the car with grandparents he hadn’t seen in three years, Gabriel finally caught his first glimpse of Kenton Woods, North Carolina. Describing it as a small town would be misleading though.
As they followed the road, slightly sloping downward, a cluster of houses and buildings linked by a net of streets came into view, surrounded by lush vegetation on all sides. It looked like an island in a sea of trees and meadows. Passing by Town Hall, a two-level manor house with white-washed pillars dating back to colonial times, his grandfather turned onto Market Street.
Not knowing what to say, Gabriel kept looking out the window at the small stores lining the street. His eyes grew bigger as he took in the small size and equally small number of everything around him. He only saw a handful of people walking here and there, now and then stopping to talk. Some waved at each other from across the street. The buildings looked strangely flat in comparison to his neighborhood back home. Everything was so miniscule that Gabriel felt reminded of a dollhouse.
A few turns later, the car pulled into the driveway of a ground-floor bungalow, with apple trees growing in its front yard and rose bushes lining the white fence surrounding it. Vines climbed the brick wall, almost hiding the stone that lay below. Getting out of the car, Gabriel stood and stared for a while. He had never seen anything like it, and he wasn’t sure how it made him feel.
His grandparents continued to point at each and every thing, telling stories about his mother’s childhood, but Gabriel didn’t listen. The world before him was no more real to him than the world Andril lived in was to his parents. As he followed his grandfather up the driveway to the front door, his eyes continued to gawk at the sight before him.
In the house, Gabriel felt like he had just entered an antique store. Dark and bulky furniture towered everywhere, making him feel dwarfed. Suddenly, he understood why his mother had left this place the day after graduation and never gone back.
Finding himself in her old room, Gabriel sat down on the bed, shoulders slumped. Besides the bed, he saw a wardrobe in the corner by the door and a desk under the window, which opened to the back yard. The faded wall paper showed flower motifs similar to the real ones he saw outside his window. A few books lay on his nightstand.
To Gabriel, the room felt like a prison cell.
It took him a long time to rise from the bed and start unpacking. With every piece of clothing that went from his bags into the wardrobe, he felt the walls encroaching on him. His pulse raced as a desperate panic started creeping up his spine. Holding on to the open drawer, his fingernails dug into the wood. For a moment, he closed his eyes, and a tear ran down his cheek.
When he was done unpacking, Gabriel sat down on the bed and waited.
For what, he didn’t know.
***
The sound of clattering dishes came to Gabriel’s ears, making him look up. As he inhaled deeply, a familiar smell reached his nose. His mother’s shepherd’s pie, he knew, but originally his grandmother’s recipe.
Trying to shake off the sense of doom he had felt ever since he had been told to spend the summer with his grandparents, Gabriel got up, opened the door and walked down the hallway, following the kitchen sounds. As he came around a corner, he found his grandmother taking a stack of plates out of the hanging cabinet by the stove while his grandfather sat at the table, reading a newspaper, glasses low on his nose.
Setting down the plates, his grandmother looked at his grandfather, eyes slightly narrowed. “Is this all you’ll contribute to dinner?”
He looked up from his paper, a smirk on his face. “You know you don’t want me to help.”
Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat, a sense of déjà-vu engulfing him.
“That’s cooking,” his grandmother said, shaking her head. “I don’t want you to cook. Setting the table is not cooking.”
His grandfather grinned at her. “There is no way for me to get around this?”
She shook her head, smiling now. “Sorry, Dear,” she said, pointing at the plates.
Folding the paper, his grandfather got up, took off his reading glasses and turned to the plates. As he saw Gabriel standing in the door, he waved him over. “There you are. Is everything all right with the room? Do you need anything?”
Gabriel shook his head, taking another careful step into the kitchen.
“C’mon, you can help me set the table,” his grandfather said, holding out the plates to him.
“Don’t you dare!” his grandmother warned, holding up a wooden cooking spoon.
Again, Gabriel froze.
However, his grandfather laughed, shrugging his shoulders. “Worth a try.”
Once more, his grandmother shook her head at her husband, but there was a smile on her face, and Gabriel felt himself relax.
“Come over here,” she called to him, taking the casserole out of the oven. “Tell me if this tastes all right to you.”
Coming to stand beside his grandmother, Gabriel took the fork she held out to him. Savoring the rich flavor, a small smile twitched on his lips.
“Do you like it?”
Gabriel nodded.
“Good,” his grandmother said. “Here, take the oven mitts and carry it over. But be careful the dish is very hot.”
Placing it on the cork mat in the middle of the table, Gabriel looked up to see his grandmother smile at him. She turned to her husband then, once again shaking her head. “See how easy this was. No dodging. No complaining. Nothing.”
As they sat down to eat, his grandfather winked at him. “You’re starting to make me look bad.”
***
The next two days dragged on. To Gabriel, they felt like weeks.
Since he had nowhere to go, he spent all day at his grandparents’ house, either sitting in his room, staring out the window, or sitting on the couch in the living room, staring out the window. Now and then, his grandmother dragged him outside into the back yard to help her tend to her vegetable patch. He raked, hoed and watered, but his mind was blank.
“Hey there, anyone home?” Eyebrows raised, she looked at him, her head slightly cocked to the right. “You seem to be somewhere else.”
A quick smile flashed over his face, and he shrugged. There was only one place where he wanted to be, but he couldn’t. His grandparents didn’t have a computer.
“Oh, look! The Holmes kids,”
his grandmother said, looking over the fence into their neighbors’ back yard. “Hey, there!” she called, waving.
The Holmes kids, a boy and girl about Gabriel’s age, waved back as they came up to the fence, each walking a bike. “Hello, Mrs. Warren.”
“Where are you two off to?” his grandmother asked, pushing back the straw hat shielding her face from the sun.
“Swimming at the Dive,” the boy answered, slinging a bag over his shoulder.
“Shopping,” his sister said, brushing back her long chestnut hair and tying it in a ponytail.
His grandmother laughed. “Well, I hope you two have fun.” She turned to Gabriel. “By the way, this is my grandson Gabriel. He is spending the summer with us.”
The summer? Gabriel thought, his hands balling into fists. His mother had promised it would only be for a few weeks.
“Hey,” the boy said. “I’m Liam, that’s Nahla.” He pointed at his sister, who was already half-way down the path to the front gate.
“Nice to meet you,” she called over her shoulder. “Sorry, but I gotta go.”
For a moment, the three of them just stood there. As no one said anything, Liam’s eyes started going back and forth between Gabriel and his grandmother. “Eh…do you want to come?”
“Oh, that’s a lovely idea!” his grandmother beamed, turning to him.
Staring at her with wide eyes, Gabriel shook his head, taking a step back.
Her face lost some of its glow as she looked at him. “Are you sure? That sounds wonderful!”
Again, Gabriel shook his head.
“It’s fine,” Liam said. “If you ever want to go, you know where I live.” He chuckled. Then he got on his bike and rode down the street.
As his grandmother returned to the kitchen to bake another one of her devilishly delicious apple pies, Gabriel found his grandfather sitting in the living room, a book in his hands and his glasses crooked on his nose. He looked up as Gabriel walked in and, putting down his book, beckoned him to sit down.