"You were lost to the world, Heaven. What happened? You were staring at the Gnelfs."
"Toys?”
Gab nodded. "Did they scare you?"
Heaven's eyes widened again, and for a moment she seemed about to reveal something. Then she shook her head. "I don't think so."
A small, elderly woman rounded the end of the row, and started to push her cart toward them. Moving Heaven out of the way, Gab let the woman pass. Then she carefully headed her own cart up the aisle, Heaven at her side.
The checkout seemed endless, but finally they cleared the register and made their way to the car.
Strapped into place, Heaven seemed to quietly slip back to normal. Gab kept looking over at her, but she could spot no other sign of a problem. She'd never heard of a child experiencing anything quite like what she'd just seen. Her daughter had been in an almost catatonic state.
"Heaven?"
"Yes."
"Would you like me to ask Mr. Tanner not to come tonight? Is that why you were upset? I could call him and tell him you're not feeling well."
"No, Mommy. I like Mr. Tanner. You can have him over."
"Honey, you're sure Mr. Tanner doesn't frighten you or upset you?"
"No, Mommy. He's fine." She settled down in her seat and folded her arms. Her chin tucked in against her chest, but she wasn't pouting. She seemed to be contemplating something. If five-year-olds contemplated.
A call to Katrina was in order, no question about it. Gabrielle pressed the gas pedal a little harder, eager to get home. On arrival, she hauled the groceries in quickly and, leaving the bags on the kitchen table, snatched the wall phone from its hook.
Katrina answered on the third ring, and Gabrielle blurted out what had happened. "Have you ever seen that happen?" she asked.
"Not to that extent," Katrina said. "Kids can be moody, I can tell you that."
"It wasn't like she was pouting. She was staring at these things."
"I can't understand her fixation," Katrina said. "What is it about these little green bastards? My kids love 'em. Did her daddy ever buy some for her?"
"I think I bought her first Gnelfs. I don't know what it is about them. They are sort of ugly."
"Sort of like bad elves or something if you think about it. Could be she's looked at some traditional children's stories where the green, pointy ears are bad and it seems creatures with these have infiltrated her home. Maybe subconsciously she thinks they're just pretending to be friends."
"And that could be because her father left. She may think he betrayed her, so these friends will too. But hell, we could speculate all night. I guess it's time to get Marley to find somebody for her to see. We might as well get this all out now so she won't have to spend years in therapy later."
"Tomorrow we'll figure something out," Katrina said. "For now you'd better get your dinner cookin'."
"I guess it's too late to tell Jake not to come. She says he doesn't upset her."
"It may do her good to have him there, especially if she's missing her daddy."
"I hope you're right," Gab said. "And I hope he's understanding. I'm not going to have much time to bother with dating if Heaven's going to need attention. She's got to come first."
"If he's worth a damn he'll stick it out," Katrina said. "Now cook a good dinner."
"I guess I'll try," Gab said. She'd lost her will to be a gourmet.
Tanner, naturally, was prompt. And dinner, naturally, was not. Gab had him sit in the living room where Heaven was playing while she rushed into the kitchen. Everything was almost ready, but there was no way to rush the cooking. She briefly checked the roast to make sure it wasn't burning.
She'd already changed into a dark blue denim jumpsuit which bridged the gap between elegant and casual. It allowed some comfort for kitchen work and, she hoped, still looked just a little sexy.
After allowing herself a moment to smooth her hair, Gab pushed through the swinging door into the living room, where Tanner was making an effort to converse with Heaven. Apparently he knew the importance of hitting it off with someone's kid, but he wasn't having much success. Heaven was doing little talking. He obviously thought that was because she didn't like him.
"Sometimes Hev keeps her thoughts to herself," Gab said, sweeping past her and trying to sound upbeat. Just let them have a good evening, then she could break the news to him quietly and hope he was understanding.
She sat near him on the couch, one leg tucked under her in an effort to appear relaxed, knowing he could probably detect her apprehension anyway. He probably studied people so he could work their behavior into his fiction.
"Did you do a lot of writing today?" she asked. Let him talk about himself for a while. She'd have plenty to say later.
It went a little slow today," he admitted. "Sometimes I plot myself into a corner. It's hard to do the playing fair business and not actually give everything away to the reader at the same time. You have to reveal things without letting people see what you're telling them.”
"Sounds a little like Zen."
"Ah, is that one of your interests?"
"I read some of it in college. Enough to skim the surface, not enough to help me stay calm in adverse circumstances or anything."
"I've always found it a little confusing, but I guess you're right. Novels are a little like Zen.”
"Is any of this new one set around Aimsley, or is it all in New Orleans?"
"More down in Avoyelles. I have a murder on the levee down there, and Gaston has to deal with all of the Cajuns who don't like to talk about things."
"Is there much action?"
"Quite a lot of it in the end. There'll be a manhunt through the swamps and that sort of thing. They have to take out the crawfish boats."
They talked for a while longer about his novel and other books, the conversation drifting to authors they liked and genres other than mystery. Tanner had recently developed an interest in Arna Bontemps, a black author from Alexandria, a town a short distance away. Although the writer had died in 1973, efforts were underway to preserve his legacy and that had sparked Tanner's interest. He'd been reading Bontemps's novel God Sends Sunday.
The oven timer sounded, its harsh buzz filtering through from the kitchen. "I think it's about time to eat," Gab said.
She slipped off the couch and rescued the meat from the rack, quickly spinning on her heels and putting it on a serving platter already set out. Then, clearing the swinging doors, she placed the platter on a hot pad.
"Delicious," he said, once they were eating, his tone almost coy.
"Glad you like it," Gab said. "It's something I just threw together." Her smile this time was to let him know she was being coy as well.
Something positive was clicking, that indefinable connection that somehow converts easily into love. Gab had felt it only a couple of times. It had been there with Dave but it had not lasted.
Maybe this time it was real. The conversation flowed, and they kept talking long after the meal. Then they sat, grazing across the table at each other, occasionally locking on each other's eyes.
Heaven soon excused herself and retired to the living room. Her play was quiet and became a soft background as she hummed and spoke softly to her dolls. Tanner reached across the table, placing his hand atop Gabrielle's.
She let it stay, enjoyed the warmth of his touch and the stirring it evoked.
"Are you a romantic, Tanner?"
"Deep down."
"How come you don't write love stories?”
“Mysteries have love stories in them."
"I thought detectives bedded every girl they set eyes on. That's not exactly a love story."
"Gaston is different. He's something of a romantic himself. Tough as nails but soft inside.”
"Is that you?"
"I'm not tough at all. I guess Gaston has a lot of me in him, but he's not really supposed to be an extrapolation of me."
"Right."
"Honestly. I am not my own hero. I'm just an
average guy who makes his living at a keyboard."
"Ah, a man of letters caught in his own mystique."
He grinned and absently touched his forehead with an index finger. "Touché."
She thought he might be blushing a little. She had to discuss the matter of Heaven, but she let the playful banter continue a while. Their exchange would make it easier when she had to make explanations. She began to steer the conversation toward Heaven, first mentioning her schoolwork and her difficulty in adjusting.
"It's tough to be a kid," Tanner agreed. "I was always bookish. Wound up being picked on."
Maybe, Gabrielle thought, that background will help him understand. She was hesitating, about to say something, and trying to find the proper words when Heaven's scream shattered the silence.
Her head and Tanner's jerked in the child's direction as the shriek continued.
Heaven was now standing at the center of the living room, arms in front of her, tiny fists clenched under her chin in a defensive pose.
Her head was twisting from side to side, and her eyes were full of fear. She seemed to be looking at something, somethings perhaps. Yet there was nothing to be seen.
"Don't hurt me," she pleaded.
Tanner rose from his seat, ready to move toward her, but he was contused. "What's wrong?" he asked.
Gab was hurrying to embrace Heaven, but before she could reach her, something slashed through the air, and as if an unseen knife was striking, a tear appeared in one leg of Heaven's slacks.
"Mommieee!"
Gab didn't know what to do.
Heaven could see them. They were surrounding her, a half-dozen Gnelfs. Shirtless, dull green skin glistened with perspiration, and patchworks of old scars lined their flesh. Lips peeled back over their yellow fangs in sick, grinning twists; they waved their weapons about as evil seemed to emanate from their tiny, cruel eyes.
Gnelf Master stood directly in front of her. He looked like a pirate with the cloth tied around his head and the tarnished ring dangling from the lobe of one pointed ear. It was the sweep of his scythe which had made the slit in her pant leg. Now he chuckled. "Mommy can't see us," he said. “She doesn't know what's the matter."
Then he brought the scythe forward again, sweeping as he would to cut wheat.
The second gash tore cloth over Heaven's left calf and cut into skin. Blood stained the fabric around the wound. Gab screamed and rushed toward Heaven who was now turning about.
Before Gabrielle could reach her child, another tear appeared in her sleeve, another cut on her upper arm.
The other Gnelfs were joining the Master in making harassing slashes. Some of them carried needlelike stilettos which they jabbed at Heaven, while others swung swords and scimitars. They laughed and poked at her, foul breath almost choking her when they moved in and slashed before darting back to their circle.
With Tanner at her side, Gab swept Heaven into her arms. The child's blouse was already in tatters, and her back sticky with blood. Narrow scratches had touched her cheeks also, and spots of red flecked her golden hair. She wept, heavily, more from fear than pain as Gabrielle gripped her closely.
Tanner was there at her side, flexing his fingers nervously as if he could think of nothing else to do.
"What the hell is happening?" Gabrielle cried, tears, to her surprise, spilling from her own eyes.
"I don't know," Tanner said. "I've never seen anything like it. We'd better get her to the hospital."
Gab stood, holding Heaven in her arms, and nodded. "Let's go."
From the hall closet, she grabbed a sweater and wrapped it around Heaven as she followed Tanner out to his car. The top was down on the Cutlass, and she told him not to bother putting it up even though the night air was chill. She didn't want to waste time. The wounds seemed superficial, but the bleeding scared her. Heaven seemed covered with blood, and she was so small. How much could she afford to lose?
They jumped into the front seat, and Tanner left a strip of rubber along the pavement as he pulled away from the curb. The damp night air quickly began to slip down over the windshield to slap Gab in the face. In her lap, Heaven was trembling and sobbing, tears mingling with the blood.
"I don't understand what happened," Tanner said, his hands so tight on the wheel he looked like he was trying to squeeze it apart. He was more frightened by this than she had realized, but that was understandable. Nothing else was, but fear made sense.
"She's been disturbed lately, having nightmares," Gabrielle said.
"That still doesn't explain what happened. I've read about people's minds doing things, even making them bleed, but this is not like stigmata or anything. If this was just from her mind, how could her clothes get cut?"
"I don't know," Gab said. "It's like ghosts did it."
"Gnelfs? You said her dreams were about Gnelfs.”
“Yes."
"What could that mean?"
“It doesn't explain anything."
The car screeched around a corner, and Tanner ran a red light at the next intersection, drawing honks from other motorists. He avoided a collision by a few inches.
Another block down he turned onto a cross street. It had buckled in several places, but he managed to hold the car steady as he roared along, cutting almost a mile off the trip.
He swerved around a couple of cars and some pedestrians as the Cutlass entered the Riverland Parish Hospital grounds. A security guard making rounds looked up at him as he passed, but Tanner ignored the man and pulled into a parking slot near the door of the emergency room.
Gab was out of the car before the engine died. At a jog, she hurried through the automatic doors and across the waiting room to the small computer desk where the admitting clerk was typing in information on an elderly man with a bandaged wrist.
A kid in his mid-twenties, a bad bruise on his left cheek, seemed to be next in line. He was pressing an ice pack to an eye which was about to swell shut. Gab pressed past him.
"I need help quick," she shouted.
Coming out of her chair, the white-coated clerk stuck her head through the narrow doorway behind her and called out, "Incoming child, stat."
Seconds later, a blond nurse with a stethoscope draped over her shoulder appeared. The gummed soles of her shoes squeaked on the see-yourself waxed tile as she rushed over to Gab and began a quick examination.
The doors buzzed open again, and Tanner joined them.
"Let's get her into an examining room," the nurse said. The name Cruse was on the tab pinned to her pocket. "Were you in an accident?"
A white-uniformed man with short brown hair and a mustache appeared a few seconds later with a stretcher, and Heaven was transferred from Gab's arms to the clean white sheets.
"Mommy." Her voice sounded weak.
"It's okay, sweetheart. They'll take good care of you. Mommy will be right here." She silently cursed the tyranny of procedure.
"If you want to go on in with her your husband can handle the—"
"U h, he's—"
"I'm a friend," Tanner explained.
"Oh." A look of suspicion crossed her features. "Okay. Well, I'll take care of the necessary information as quickly as possible and let you join her. She's frightened I'm sure."
Gab sat in the chair the elderly man had vacated, conscious of the blood on her clothing and hands as she answered a battery of questions about insurance and allergies, her responses to all of them being typed into the computer. Then, an eternity later, after leaving Tanner in the waiting room to call Katrina, she was led through the doorway toward the examining room.
A gray-haired doctor with a beard that still had a few reddish streaks was already at Heaven's side, shining a penlight into her eyes. His wire-rimmed glasses had skied down to the very tip of his nose and seemed about to plummet over.
Heaven now wore a hospital gown, and a nurse was dabbing at some of her wounds.
The doctor straightened and looked at Gabrielle.
"I'm Dr. Edwards," he said.
"Gabrielle Davis."
"She's going to be fine," he said. "Just some scratches. What the hell happened to her?"
"She was playing," Gab said. "All of a sudden she screamed, there were cuts … I don't know." She suddenly realized how bad that sounded. She was almost incoherent. Her panic hadn't subsided, and she realized her explanation made it sound as though Heaven got the cuts because she was clumsy, always falling down.
That was the typical excuse of the parent of a battered child. On top of everything else, she thought, someone might try to take my daughter away from me.
"Well these are only minor lacerations," Edwards said. "We'll get her fixed up. There won't be a need for stitches." He stroked the hair at his chin "Has anything like this happened before?"
"No. She's been a little strange—upset—this week, but no, nothing like this happened."
He nodded grimly, then turned to the nurse and gave her brief instructions about handling the wounds.
"We'll want to keep her overnight for observation," he said. "She is small, and she's lost blood. We will give her a tetanus shot."
He didn't ask any more questions, but he obviously had a few in mind.
Gab watched him walk toward the door, expecting him to look back over his shoulder, give her a final accusatory stare. He didn't.
She stayed with Heaven, holding her hand while the nurse continued cleaning and bandaging the wounds. Then, when that was done, Heaven was put in a fresh hospital gown and an orderly lifted her and swung her into a wheelchair for transfer to a room.
Heaven giggled as she was wheeled around, the thrill of the ride momentarily displacing the trauma of the attack.
Katrina and Tanner had found each other and were in the waiting room when Gab and Heaven emerged through the swinging doors. The orderly paused at Gab's request.
"She's all right," she assured Katrina, whose frown threatened to crumple her face.
"I still can't understand what happened? I mean you two were talking and all of a sudden—"
"It just happened," Gab said. "I can't explain it. They're probably reporting me to Child Protection right now. '
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