GNELFS (3 page)

"Well, they did it," Heaven said. "And they said bad things about Mommy."

"They were green?"

"I guess.
Gnelf
Master was there, and he had a big pitchfork. He said I was a bad girl and that he ought to use it on me. Then he said I was bad because Mommy was bad and I was her daughter. He even called Mommy a bad word I think."

"What was that?" The thought of a forbidden profanity struck him as exciting.

Heaven sniffled, combating a sob. "He said . . . he said she was a bitch." A single tear trickled from the corner of her eye before she got herself under control.

"That’s a pretty bad word. They said it on a show on HBO and Mama turned it off," Terry said.

"What's it mean?"

"A bad woman."

"That's scary," Heaven said, tears flowing now. "In the dream,
Gnelf
Master said 'bitches must suffer.'"

Heaven reported no nightmares the rest of the week, and although she seemed a bit quiet and introverted, Gabrielle considered her behavior normal for a four-year-old. Children couldn't be happy all the time, and Heaven was probably still confused about the divorce.

By Saturday, the child's spirits had brightened. Since the tension had died, Gabrielle decided it was safe for an outing. Besides, Heaven seemed to like the idea of dropping by and playing with Katrina's children. Gab dressed her, or helped her dress herself, in lavender slacks and a striped, pullover blouse with long sleeves. It was spring, but there was still a chill. With the Velcro straps on her shoes sealed into place, Heaven bounced about the house as they prepared to leave, more energetic than she had been in days. Her hair fluttered about her head as she twisted and twirled her arms.

They took no
Gnelf
icons along.

Gab buckled her daughter into the front seat and drove over to Katrina's while engaging Heaven in a sing-along to keep her from resisting the seat belt too much. Only a recent graduate of car seats, Heaven had at first rejoiced at the opportunity to be more grown-up, but she was known to complain of discomfort and attempt to subvert the belt by loosening it until there was enough slack to provide freedom of movement. That freedom might also send her crashing through the window if a sudden stop was necessary, Gab frequently reminded herself.

Today Heaven was content as they rattled off tunes from the album they'd ordered from the ad on "Nickelodeon." The day was bright and clear with golden sunshine, and for the first time in several months Gabrielle allowed herself to wonder about happiness. Maybe she really was getting things back together. She was going out, doing something that interested her, which was a change from the way things had been lately. She'd devoted most of her attention to her job and to Heaven with little thought to other activities.

Her devotion to Heaven was complete and without question, but it couldn't be good for either of them to hibernate. She didn't want Heaven growing up a recluse.

~*~

Katrina lived in a quiet residential section which consisted mostly of small brick houses with neatly trimmed lawns. Once upon a time it might have been a neighborhood which would not have welcomed African Americans, but at least in this part of town that sort of thing was in the past.

No FOR SALE signs had sprung up when they'd moved in, Katrina had observed. Her husband had a job with the city and wore business suits most of the time. She sometimes speculated that that and their quiet habits kept many of their neighbors content. "Maybe we'll have a domestic argument and throw a few pots and pans just so they won't be disappointed," she said once. 'Then they can say, 'Well, it's colored folk.' "

Harris, her husband, was working in the front yard when Gab pulled into the driveway. He had traded in his suit for jeans and a polo shirt that morning, but she felt there was no concealing the fact that he was an accountant.

"So you're going to hear the mystery writer speak?" he said as Gab helped Heaven from the car and they pulled some of her toys from the front seat.

"That's right."

"We'll take good care of Heaven," he said. "It's such a pretty day we thought we'd grill hot dogs outside." He squatted in front of the little girl so that he could look into her face. "Does that sound good?"

"Yes," she said, smiling and chewing on the finger tucked in the corner of her mouth.

"Say hello to Mr. Johnson," Gabrielle urged.

"Hello."

They walked to the front steps and Harris opened the door for them.

The children were in the living room, watching television. Carl Matthew, who was six, and a miniature version of his father sans beard, sat on the floor with an assortment of toys spread around him. Seeing the visitors, he got up and stood slightly behind his father, peering around Harris's legs curiously. He recognized the visitors, but he was uncomfortable, a bit shy it seemed.

Matissa
, the baby, was smearing crayons across the pages of a coloring book. She looked up proudly from her work, her smile revealing gums through which teeth were just beginning to make their way.

Katrina walked into the room, drying her hands on a dish towel, and also offered Heaven a bright smile. "Hi, honey."

"Hi, Miss
K'tina
," Heaven said, still chewing on the finger. She was a bit flustered by the attention, and she rarely said Katrina's name successfully.

"We're gonna have a good time today," Katrina said. "It's Saturday. We can watch cartoons and play. Does that sound like fun?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yes, ma'am," Gabrielle reminded her.

"I'm sorry."

Katrina winked at Heaven. "It's okay."

Gab handed over the toys they'd brought along. "You won’t hesitate to call if…?"

"It's all going to be fine,” Katrina said. “You go have as much fun as you can, listening to a literary reading."

Gabrielle smiled. "I'm just trying to get out a little."

"Be good for you. Hustle or you gonna be late."

Pausing only to bend and give Heaven a final kiss and warn her to behave, Gabrielle headed for the door.

"I'll be back by one at the latest."

"Fine, go," Katrina admonished. "Now."

Gab grinned. "Got you."

As she departed, the kids settled in the living room to watch "Scooby Doo." Leaving them occupied with that, Katrina went back to her work in the kitchen, while Harris set in on forms he'd brought from the office. For a half-hour, things were quiet. Then Carl Matthew's voice peaked out at the highest decibel a six-year-
old's
vocal cords could muster.

"But we always watch ‘
Gnelfs
’ on Channel 7 after 'Scooby Doo' goes off," he insisted.

"Don't wanna watch '
Gnelfs
,’" Heaven protested, doing a fair job of amplification herself.

"I'm not gonna change it," Carl Matthew stated.

Katrina pushed through the swinging door to see them standing toe to toe in the center of the room.

Harris, engrossed in his reading, had managed to shut out the racket in the way only a man could.
Matissa
also was ignoring the fracas. She was still busy defacing the pages of her coloring book.

"What's going on here?" Katrina demanded.

"She won't watch '
Gnelfs
,’" Carl Matthew protested.

With her face turned downward, Heaven continued to shake her head, her brow wrinkled defiantly, her hair swaying back and forth.

Katrina decided to try a diplomatic approach. "Honey, Heaven had a bad dream about the `
Gnelfs
' this week. We don't want to make her watch them if they upset her, do we?"

"You said dreams couldn't hurt anybody," Carl Matthew protested.

"They can be frightening. Why don't we watch something else? There
are
other shows you can watch; we get a hundred channels."

"That's old stuff."

"Carl Matthew, you aren't but six. How can anything be old to you?"

"I want to see '
Gnelfs
.' Everybody watches it."

"It's on all the time. On Saturday morning there are other cartoons you can watch."

Shaking her head, Heaven turned from the two of them and ran through the swinging door, into the kitchen.

Harris had finally roused from his work. He followed Katrina after her.

She was sobbing, and tiny teardrops already trailed down her cheeks. “I don't wanna watch that show," she cried. "The
Gnelfs
are mean."

Katrina knelt in front of her and hugged her. "It's all right, baby. We aren't going to watch it."

Heaven gripped Katrina's shoulders and held tight. The child's small body was wracked with trembling.

Lifting her into her arms, Katrina carried her over to the kitchen table where she eased her onto a chair.

"It's going to be okay," she whispered.

Settling back in the chair, Heaven wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her blouse. She was pale.

"Is she doing all right?" Harris asked.

"Oh, she's fine," Katrina said. "Aren't you, big girl? I'd bet you'd like some Kool-Aid."

Heaven wiped her nose softly and nodded. She was still shaken up, but the prospect of Kool-Aid worked wonders in calming her.

Harris followed his wife to the cabinet as she got a glass.

"You think anything's wrong?"

"Not really. Just nervousness. She's in a strange house, with us, her daddy's left her, and she had a bad dream this week. Even rehashing it was scary for her."

"You said Gabrielle was worried about her."

"She's watching every little thing because she's so worried about the scars of divorce," Katrina whispered. "Maybe we'd better keep what's happened between us. It's passed, and I'm afraid Gab would worry herself to death over it just when she's about to get her feet back on the ground."

"You don't think she should know?"

"Maybe I'll mention it later. Let's let her have a good day. She needs one."

"Whatever you think."

She moved past him to the refrigerator and took out a freshly made pitcher of "
berryblue
" flavored Kool-Aid. She poured a glassful and took it to the table.

Seizing the glass, Heaven quickly swallowed a big gulp.

"See, she's better already," Katrina said.

~*~

The library meeting room had been recently remodeled in dark paneling that gave it the air of an intimate den. The lighting leaned toward dim, and the carpeting was thick and soft. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes being held on request or those awaiting return to other libraries.

Gabrielle wandered in, feeling a bit uncomfortable. She had slipped on her wire-rimmed glasses to drive, and she kept adjusting them as she looked around at the sporadic clusters of people talking and sipping coffee from paper cups.

They all seemed to know each other, but she recognized no one. The woman they had talked to at the restaurant, Mrs. Richardson, was nowhere in sight. She found herself wishing Katrina had come along, wondering if she would have been better off staying at home. More comfortable certainly, safer. She could have slept a little later if Heaven allowed it and then curled up with a book after fixing some breakfast and turning Heaven loose with the cartoons.

She had a stack of romance novels which had been passed on by a friend at the office. She could have spent the day working through them, reading stories about people whose love lives worked out.

She lingered around the door as the chatter from various conversations mingled into a hubbub. She had never been good at breaking ice. If she hadn't been pretty enough to draw some attention in high school, her shyness might have kept her a wallflower.

Even Dave, back in college, had had to be persistent. They'd met while studying in the school library, but he'd had to stalk her through the rows of metal bookshelves for almost an hour before making contact.

She began looking at the faces of the people in the crowd, hoping to sight the Richardson woman so she could approach her and say she was Katrina's friend. She felt awkward standing around by herself, as if people were noticing her from the corners of their eyes and wondering who she was and why she had invaded their activity.

She was half considering making her way back to her car, poking around the mall for a while before picking up Heaven. Except she'd have to confess to Katrina who would give her a lecture. Gab didn't want to hear warnings about stagnation.

"Excuse me."

Turning, she found herself looking into the face of a young man with sandy hair and blue eyes. He was tall and attractive in his way, with a squared chin.

"I'm looking for Mrs. Webster. Do you know which one she is?"

"I'm afraid I'm lost too," Gabrielle said. She realized her tone was cool. Her protective mechanism had kicked in, sealing her emotions inside her.

He looked past her at the crowd. "I don't know what she looks like," he said. "I've only spoken with her on the phone."