The Gargoyle Overhead (2 page)

Ambergine:
Among Hot Dog Eaters

The little gargoyle was tired…

She had flown all night, and she needed to sleep. Dawn was breaking over the city, and she wanted to be safely hidden before the sun rose. Lately, she had been sleeping among the statues of giant people at the big white sports stadium by the lake. The huge fibreglass figures were sort of like gargoyles, although none of them was alive (which was probably just as well, she decided, since they were all about ten metres tall).

Today she’d decided to sleep on the statue of a giant man with a hot dog stuffed in his mouth. “He doesn’t look very appealing,” she thought, “but I guess he’ll do.” Her small leathery wings carried her slowly off the roof of the dome (it was closed for the day), and let her settle awkwardly on the giant hot dog man’s bronze head.

She waddled along the statue’s head then nestled deep into the wall of the building, safely hidden. She pulled her wings close about her and let her head fall onto her little chest.

I wonder what a hot dog tastes like?
she thought as she began to doze. Soon she was snoring quietly.

Well, as quietly as a gargoyle can snore, even a delicate lady gargoyle like her.

She was hidden completely from the street, safe for now. If anyone looked up at the giant statues, they wouldn’t notice one small gargoyle tucked away among them, even if she was snoring. There was no one around anyway except for an old man wearing very thick glasses and a baggy brown jacket resting on a bench nearby, a white hat on his knee.

That night, Ambergine would continue her search.

Master of the Candles

Gargoth and Katherine were back on Cassandra’s roof a few days later, with the stars twinkling overhead and the city blazing off in the distance to the west. The lemonade pitcher and apples were laid out again. Katherine and Cassandra were relaxing comfortably in folding chairs, but Gargoth’s cushion was empty.

He was working feverishly on his pile of unlit pumpkin candles, moving them around the roof, placing a single one here, then there. He would put one down, lean his head to one side, then move the candle again a few centimetres in a different direction. Sometimes he would lie down flat on the roof to line up the candles, or sometimes climb up the small chimney ladder (which made Katherine very nervous) to see his creation, all the while with his lit pipe clamped tightly in his leathery lips. He was concentrating very hard, not paying any attention to Katherine and Cassandra at all. It was almost like they weren’t there.

Although they knew better than to ask, Katherine and Cassandra were very curious about what he was doing. Was it a piece of art? Was it some ancient game? By now the candles were covering the entire roof in some sort of sequence, but it didn’t make any sense to them. Since Cassandra had provided the candles, Gargoth hadn’t said another word. He just went about his mysterious business, so until he decided to tell them what he was doing, they would just have to wait to find out.

Instead they were talking about soccer camp. “They play soccer all day, then swim all afternoon at the university pool. It sounds hard, but it’s really fun. Two professional soccer players are running the camp this year, and we get to play an exhibition game on their field. A professional field, Cassandra!”

Cassandra smiled. Katherine sighed. “I might not be able to go, though. Mom and Dad have to go to my mom’s cousin’s daughter’s wedding in Saskatoon or something. I’ve been begging them to let me stay home, but they won’t let me stay alone. Also, we aren’t sure what to do with…” she hesitated and glanced over at Gargoth.

Since he was a good way across the roof, she dropped her voice to a whisper and said, “We aren’t sure what to do with Gargoth for an entire week, though. He knows we’re leaving, and I don’t think he’s all that happy about it...”

The week before, her mother had told him they were leaving for a holiday. He’d stormed into the bushes at the back of their little yard and wouldn’t come out for hours. He’d sulked and pouted and wouldn’t even stroke their calico cat Milly (and they were great friends). And he hadn’t talked to her mother since.

It was a little awkward. They couldn’t take him away for a whole week. He
was
a gargoyle, not a pet, after all. Even if they were used to him walking and talking and being very much alive in their backyard, Katherine doubted that the nice people at the wedding would be all that okay with it. Besides, Gargoth was terrible in the car. They’d only tried that once, and it hadn’t gone at all well. She couldn’t begin to imagine what he would be like in an airplane.

“So, I’m going to miss the best soccer camp ever, and we’re kind of stuck about Gargoth…” Katherine finished.

They looked over at the gargoyle, who was deep in thought, struggling with an armload of smiling pump-kins. The crate was half empty, he had used so many.

Cassandra put down her knitting. “You know, you could both stay here for the week. Gargoth could stay up here on the roof, doing whatever it is he’s doing with the candles. And I have an extra bedroom in my apartment downstairs for you.”

Katherine gasped. “Do you think so, Cassandra? That would be
so
great. We’d have to ask Mom and Dad…it might not be so easy to convince them…”

Just at that moment, Gargoth waddled over and stood before them with a single smiling pumpkin candle in his claw. He turned it over and lit it with the coals in the stump of his pipe.

“I’m finished,” he said. “Could you help me set my beacon ablaze?”

Gargoth's Beacon

Katherine had a confused look on her face. “Beacon? What do you mean? Do you want us to help you light the candles, Gargoth?”

“Yes, Katherine. Here,” he handed her the candle. He offered Cassandra another lit candle.

“The three of us can light them quickly together,” he said. Katherine nodded and began lighting candles. “He wants us to help him light them all,” she translated for Cassandra, who followed along, a little confused but happy to help out.

For the next several minutes, the three of them went from candle to candle, lighting smiling pumpkins. With his clumsy, leathery claws, Gargoth found it hard to light the candles easily and kept scorching himself.

THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: try to avoid the scent of scorched gargoyle, if you ever happen across it. It’s a little like overcooked cabbage and cat-box, with a dash of moldering dead rat thrown in for good measure. Pretty much the exact opposite of anything nice you’ve ever smelled in your life. Both Cassandra and Katherine tried to hide the fact that they were holding their noses, which made lighting the candles very difficult. Gargoth didn’t seem to notice.

It took them ages, but despite the horrible stench of burnt gargoyle and the fact that the candles were hard to light, they did finally get them all lit.

Eventually Cassandra’s rooftop was alight with one hundred and forty-eight shimmering orange-scented pumpkin candles (which strangely did little to mask the stink of burned gargoyle flesh). They looked very pretty glowing softly in the dark night, but the reason for their arrangement was still a mystery to Katherine and Cassandra.

Gargoth climbed back up the ladder on the chimney to see the candles better. He climbed down and waddled to a few candles, moving them slightly. He returned to the chimney to look again. Eventually he flopped onto his small cushion beside the lemonade pitcher.

He poured himself a long drink, refilled his pipe, then wiggled comfortably on his cushion, blowing smoke rings toward the stars.

Eventually Katherine couldn’t stand it any longer. She looked over at Cassandra, who was knitting again, and who could only shrug.

Katherine had enough. “Okay Gargoth, what’s going on?” she asked. “What’s this ‘beacon’ for?”

He propped himself up on one elbow and sighed. “We have to be patient, Katherine. It may take a long while, but my beacon may bring the one I wish to summon.”

“Which one? Who do you wish to summon? What are you talking about?” Katherine was demanding again, which was never good with Gargoth. If you got too snoopy, or too direct, he’d stop talking altogether, which was very annoying, since it usually only happened when you were excited. And you were probably excited because something interesting was about to happen, which hardly seemed fair.

Gargoth blew out a long stream of smoke. “You’re overexcited, Katherine,” he said quietly. “Be calm, child.”

Katherine frowned and turned to Cassandra. “He’s teasing me. He says his ‘beacon’ may bring the one he wishes to summon, whatever that means…” She stopped in mid-sentence.

Then she knew. The other gargoyle. The one who had flown away from Cassandra’s shop just days before she and Gargoth had entered it last spring.

“Do you mean the lost gargoyle?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” he said simply. “It is a beacon for my greatest friend, the only one who can help me, the gargoyle Ambergine.”

Ambergine:
Among Angels

The little gargoyle was perched up high, looking over the dark water…

The moon was setting and reflected off the surface of the lake in shiny splashes. She could see waves and boats at anchor in the harbour nearby. Her search in the backyards, churches and parks near the giant hot dog eater had failed. She’d spent the last few days sleeping hidden in the wings of an angel over a great arched gate. Many busy roads met at the angel’s feet far below. She’d overheard someone call this place “The Prince’s Gates”. It opened onto a wide open space with a long building and horses inside.

Below her, the city streets were still—it was five a.m., after all. There was no one around except an old beggar with a baggy brown jacket and a white straw hat, a pair of thick glasses on the ground beside him, sleeping under a tree. Even a big city is still sometimes. She knew that soon the great red locomotion machines would start rolling by her, then she would have to hide for the day once again.

“Perhaps tonight…” she whispered as she dozed against the great angel. “If you grant me one wish, sweet angel, please let me find him tonight…”

With that simple prayer, Ambergine fell fast asleep.

Mark of the Stonemason

A few nights later, Katherine was standing at the bottom of the stairs to Cassandra’s rooftop once again. Without saying it out loud, Katherine and Gargoth had reached an agreement about the stairs: Katherine now carried Gargoth up in the backpack. He didn’t get out or even let on that they had arrived at the store until they reached the rooftop.

Cassandra greeted them happily at the top of the stairs, standing amid a blaze of one hundred and forty-eight flaming orange-scented pumpkin candles.

“Hi, Katherine! Hi, Gargoth!” she said. “I lit your beacon.” She exchanged a glance with Katherine.

“Thanks, Cassandra,” Katherine breathed, very relieved that she and Cassandra would be spared any more exposure to the delights of scorched gargoyle flesh.

Gargoth climbed out of the backpack, waddled across the rooftop, and flopped onto the soft cushion. He looked dejected.

“What’s the matter?” Katherine stood over him with her arms crossed. She was so used to his moods, she barely even noticed them any more.

He was silent for a while. As usual, he wasn’t going to be rushed into anything. He pulled out his pipe and lit it, then slowly wriggled himself into a comfortable position on the cushion, blowing puffs of smoke up into the night. A streetcar rumbled loudly as it passed by far below them. A police siren wailed somewhere nearby.

Katherine sighed and went to sit beside Cassandra, who was knitting something that looked kind of like a giant green scarf. Being a giantess (or something pretty close), Cassandra had huge hands, and knitting wasn’t all that easy for her. But she never gave up, even if she maybe should have.

Katherine was about to say something when Gargoth cleared his throat. “I would tell you the beginning of a long story tonight, I think. But I fear it will be difficult for our friend Cassandra to follow along,” he said.

“I’ll translate for her, don’t worry,” Katherine answered. “It’s okay. Are you finally going to tell us what the candles are for?”

“Yes, Katherine. That and more. But first I must tell you that I fear the beacon will fail. It has taken me a long time to regain any hope…” He paused, struggling for the right words, then continued. “I think she has gone. I think Ambergine has abandoned me and will never see the beacon, and I will be forsaken here forever.”

Katherine felt a jab of sadness, hearing the longing in Gargoth’s voice. It was very rare for him to be so open with her. “Maybe if you tell us the story you want to tell, it will make waiting easier,” she said. “I really want to hear whatever it is you have to tell us.”

It was true. She really did want to hear. Gargoth was nothing if not interesting. His stories were always worth the wait.

“But first, please tell us one thing right now: what is the beacon?
How
is it a beacon?” she said, sounding a little desperate.

Gargoth sighed again. “Humans are so impatient!” he said, shaking his head. “Okay, Katherine. Go and climb up the chimney at the edge of the roof and look down upon the lit candles. I think you will see then.”

Obediently, she got up and tiptoed through the lit candles across the roof. As she laid her hand on the short ladder attached to the chimney, Cassandra looked up in alarm.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“He wants me to look at the pattern of the beacon.”

“Be careful! Your parents won’t be happy with me if you get hurt.”

“I’ll just be a second,” Katherine answered.

She climbed the rungs of the ladder and leaned against the old chimney, looking down over the rooftop of brightly lit candles. There was a pattern, but it didn’t mean much to her.

“What do you see?” Gargoth asked from his cushion.

“Well, I see two diamonds on top of each other, inside a giant circle, I think. It’s kind of hard to tell for sure…” she finished.

“Excellent, Katherine,” Gargoth said.

She climbed down from the chimney ladder and brushed red chimney brick dust off her hands and shorts. She carefully navigated through the candles back to her lawn chair.

“Okay, but what is it?”

Gargoth slowly got to his feet and waddled over to his friends. He turned his back on them and opened his little wings wide. “See there, between my wings, is there a mark?” he asked.

Katherine moved in closely to see what he meant. She held her head close to the little gargoyle’s back (but didn’t breathe in too deeply, Gargoth’s burnt flesh smell still lingered about him). Then she saw it: a small mark about the size of a coin, right between his shoulders, slightly closer to his right wing.

It was two diamonds one on top of the other, inside a circle, like this:

“I see it, Gargoth. But what is it?”

“It is my beacon, Katherine. It is also the mark of my creator, the stonemason who made me. He carved one on every statue that he made. But in the whole world there are only two living gargoyles who carry this mark, as far as I know. I have one…and Ambergine has the other.”