Two Testaments (41 page)

“Do you have weapons?”

“In my drawer.”

“Let’s go get them.”

“Anything, but please help me. I’m afraid.”

M. Hoffmann looked very tired and weak. He patted Hussein’s head. “We’ll work it out, Hussein. It’s going to be okay. Now let’s go back to your dormitory.”

David flashed Gabriella a smile as they waited for the dinner bell. He was sitting in the courtyard talking with a handful of the boys, showing them how to make paper airplanes. She could barely look at him, and when she did, her eyes filled up with tears. David regretted a hundred times that impromptu kiss in the classroom.

“How were classes today?” he asked flatly.

“The classes? They were fine.” The conversation ended.

He did not know how to get around the awkwardness between them. Every time he thought of going to her, taking her on a long walk or to a café, he was overcome by a sense of guilt. Anne-Marie. He had not expected to feel so strongly about her. It was as if Moustafa’s fierce loyalty to her had been transferred onto his shoulders. He could not leave her alone. He would not. So it was unfair to Gabby to suggest otherwise.

“M. Hoffmann,
regarde
! Watch how it flies!” Jérémie had folded a sheet of paper into the form of an airplane and let it sail through the air. It landed smoothly in a pile of mashed potatoes on Anne-Sophie’s plate.

David shook his finger playfully. “None of that now. Not here. Come to my classroom tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll make paper airplanes. All kinds.”

“
Ouais!
Super!” Christophe and Jérémie shouted as one.

David turned back to Gabby and shrugged. “It doesn’t take much to make them happy.”

She only nodded. In her eyes he read a hundred questions and a deep desire just to talk with him. But he could not allow it.

He loved Gabby with abandon and hope and passion.

He loved Anne-Marie because she needed him, because Ophélie belonged to both of them, and it was right to be together.

It was too complicated. He stood up and took his tray to the kitchen with seven boys tagging behind. Momentarily forgetting his cracked ribs, David hefted André onto his back and rode him piggyback to the dorms. Immediately six other little boys begged for a ride. He watched the boys wrestle each other on the dormitory floor, bumping into cots and bunks. Sister Isabelle entered the room and raised her eyebrows disapprovingly but said nothing.

After the boys were tucked into bed and he had entertained them with stories of dinosaurs and dragons, David tiptoed into the girls’ dorm and kissed Ophélie on the forehead. “Good night, sweetheart.” Again he felt the disapproving eyes of Sister Isabelle. He went outside and stood in the courtyard, staring at the sky.

Anne-Marie appeared beside him. “Thank you for telling Ophélie good night. It means the world to her to have you here.”

“I’m not sure Sister Isabelle feels the same way.” He chuckled.

“Oh, no. It’s not that. It’s just that we try not to get the children too riled up before bed. And … and usually men are not allowed in the girls’ dorm.”

“Ah, of course. I wasn’t thinking. Tomorrow night Ophélie shall have her kisses in the courtyard.” He winked at Anne-Marie. “And I will have to postpone any more piggyback rides,” he said, holding his side.

“David, could we talk?”

“Of course.” He took her arm and began walking toward the dining hall.

At that moment Gabriella stepped out of the dormitory and practically bumped into them both. Her face went white, then red. “
Bonsoir
,” she mumbled and left the courtyard, not looking back.

The dining hall was quiet and dark. They sat across from each other.

“David. I want to talk about us.”

He was glad it was dark, for he could feel his face turning hot with embarrassment. “I meant what I said, Anne-Marie. I meant it.”

“I know you did.” Anne-Marie brushed her hair over her shoulders nervously. “David, you have done everything for me. But why? Why did you come here in the first place to help me? What is it that brought you here?”

“I’ve already told you that back in Algiers. I cared.”

“Yes, you cared. I know that you care for me. But you do not love me. Not the way you love Gabriella. You are hers, and you are killing her with your silence. Can’t you see it in her eyes?” She took his hand. “You feel a duty, a desire to do the right thing for me, and for Ophélie. But you are not obligated to me. You have paid me back a hundred times if you feel that you owed me something. I love you, David. I will love you till the day I die. But I will never be yours. I can’t explain it. I just know.”

He sighed. Why did life have to be so confusing? “Nothing is simple, Anne-Marie. I do love Gabby, but you’re wrong. I’m not the one for her. She wants a husband who is strong and spiritual. Whatever faith I had died with Mou—” He slammed his fist on the table. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

She kissed his hands. “We’re all hurting very badly.”

Her eyes were liquid. It was the first time he had seen her cry since his return.

“But listen to me, David. I was in love with Moustafa. Ready to give my life, everything for him. And I will be faithful to him until …” A flicker of a smile appeared on her lips. “Until the heavens show me otherwise.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have the strangest peace, David. As if Someone is carrying me. But it all goes away when I think of you giving up Gabriella for me. Please, David, listen to your heart. Share with her all you have lived. She deserves it; she wants it. If you only knew how she loves you.” She took a tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes. “What do you think we’ve been doing all these months but talking of the men we love? She’s my friend. If I know anything at all, it is that you are meant to be with Gabriella.”

So she was freeing him. She had read his heart.

“Yes, perhaps. Yes … I will tell her tomorrow. Thank you, Anne-Marie.” They stood up, and he held her for a long moment, kissing her forehead. “I do love you, and I will always be here for you.”

“I know it. Now promise me only one thing.”

“What is it?”

“That you won’t wait till tomorrow. Don’t make her spend another tortured night, David Hoffmann. Go now.”

“Yes,” he said, laughing. “Yes.” He left her standing in the courtyard.

Anne-Marie sank onto the damp ground and cried and cried. She had done it, what she had somehow felt called to do, but it was breaking her heart. She had said it because it had to be said, because she knew what David was thinking. But how it hurt! It was truth she had spoken, and she had somehow had the strength to speak it.

“I’m alone,” she whispered. “Alone with my daughter. What will we do when we have nowhere to go? When David and Gabriella are far away and this orphanage is closed up?”

She was kneeling on the ground, her eyes closed and her hands clutched together. Only a minute later did she realize that she had been praying. The peacefulness invaded her again. Such a friendly invasion! Absolutely nothing was certain, and yet she left the courtyard in peace. She could not explain why.

The light was on in Gabriella’s room. David tossed a stone at the window. It missed, falling into the olive tree. The second stone hit the window with a pat and bounced off. When the third stone rang true, Gabriella came to the window and peered down. David motioned to her. She frowned and shook her head. He motioned again.

“Please, Gabby!” he shouted.

She put a finger to her lips.

“Come, please!”

She left the window, and the light went off in her room. She looked irritated when she joined him on the cobblestones. “What do you want?”

“You. I just want you.”

“Don’t give me that, David. I don’t believe you anymore.”

“Yes, I know. You’re right. I’m a fool. I’ve been so confused.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Can we talk?” he asked.

“How many young women will you make promises to tonight, David?” She whipped around and walked away.

“Gabby, please.” He caught her arm, and she shook it free.

“Leave me alone!” she said as he grabbed both of her wrists. “You’ve done enough harm here. Don’t cause a scene!”

“Gabby, please, wait!” He spoke quickly. “At least give me a chance to explain. You have every right to be angry and hurt. Please listen.”

She pulled her hands away from his, crossed her arms across her chest, and walked in front of him to the little park outside the church walls. She sat down on a bench. The moon was full and the air balmy, scented with honeysuckle. “I’m listening.”

David stood in front of her, leaning against the stone wall. He ran his hand through his hair, searching for the right words. “This isn’t how the homecoming was supposed to be. Gabby, I’ve seen the most awful things, and God seemed so silent. I wanted to be a man of faith—for you.

“But when Moustafa …” He lowered his voice and spoke with difficulty. “When the massacre occurred, rage overtook me. I hated your God. I blamed Him. I begged Him to leave. And I begged Him to stay.” He shook his head. “I’m messed up, Gabby.”

Almost unconsciously, he sat down beside her and took her hand. “All I want is to do the right thing, but it isn’t as simple as that. Anne-Marie has no one now. My rational mind says I have a duty to her, to Ophélie. I care deeply for her, Gabby, but it isn’t love … love as I feel for you.”

He squeezed her hand, but she continued sitting rigidly in her place.

“She asked to see me tonight, to talk. Anne-Marie knows my heart. She will not accept my charity. She knows I belong to you.”

Gabriella leaned her head back, and her curly mane brushed the back of the bench. She sighed deeply. “How can you know? I thought I knew. I thought I was sure of you. And now a few miserable days have made me think it’s impossible. I understand your sense of duty to Anne-Marie. I could understand if you loved her. She’s an incredible woman—as well as a beautiful one.…”

She stood and walked into the shadows. “I guess what I’m saying, David, is that you need time to make up your mind about a lot of things. It can’t be decided in a convincing monologue.”

There was a breeze, but the leaves were quiet, as if they dared not rustle. The moon was stark white with distant gray patches.

“I’m sorry for all you’ve been through, David. I have hurt and cried and prayed for you.”