The Barren Tree
Chapter 4
by Myeerah, published on May 2, 2001
"Gracie?"
"No, Gabriel," Gerde said calmly. "Your grandmother is here."
"Gran?"
"Yes. She was worried about you. Try to put her at ease."
Gabriel tried to concentrate. Words seem to be coming from a long way away.
A long way-- "Gran's in N'Orleans."
"She's come to see you."
Morphine-laced thoughts moved sluggishly. "Where'm I?"
"You're in Munich. In a hospital."
"Oh." He thought for a moment. "Where's Gran?"
"Outside, waiting to see you."
"Let'r in."
Munich. Why was he in Munich? The opera? He hardly noticed Gerde leaving. The music. The pain. The fire. The pain. Grace.
"My dear boy. My precious angel. What have you done this time?" The words were as sweet at honey and stung like salt in his shredded mind.
"Gran?"
"Yes, my boy?"
"Why're y'here?"
"Your young lady sent me a message through your friend, Franklin."
Gabriel puzzled his way through that. "Gracie?" he asked, confused.
"No dear. That pretty little Gerde who's been sitting up here with you."
"Franklin? Gerde?"
"Never mind dear. You need your rest. I'll talk to you later."
There was something important. What was it? Oh, yes.
"Gran?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Love you."
Gran stopped, dumbstruck. She'd known, of course, but for him to actually say so-- "I love you, too, Gabriel. I always have, and I always will. You are my darling boy. Remember that, dear."
"M'kay, Gran."
"I'll let you sleep now, Gabriel. You need your rest to get better."
"Gran?"
"Yes, Gabriel?"
"Grace?"
"I'll send her right in. Rest now."
She kissed his cheek and left.
After an eternity with his wandering thoughts, or about ten seconds as others measured time, the door opened again.
Grace looked at the figure on the bed and tears welled in her eyes. Gabriel was ghost white between the bruises and cuts that showed everywhere skin was exposed. One arm and both legs were in casts, the body left open to deal with his internal injuries. His blond mane had been shaved in patches where his scalp had been stitched back together. There was a stiff binding across his hips and pelvis, but it was obviously removable.
Grace stopped that thought before it could develop.
"Gracie?" Gabriel's voice was weak, hesitant. It tore at her soul.
"Hello, Gabriel." She tried to stay calm and level. She couldn't afford to panic.
"Didn't think ya'd come."
"I heard you were trying to visit me. I thought I'd pre-empt you."
He gave a weak chuckle. "Still the same ol' Grace."
"I hear that you're not still the same old Gabriel, though."
"Still me. Still dumb."
Grace laughed. "You've changed if you can say that."
"Am I that bad, Gracie?" While still a bit mumbled, his speech did seem a little sharper.
"You have no idea, Gabriel. You have no idea."
"Wanted t' tell ya somethin'."
"What's that?"
"Love you."
Grace was stunned. Gerde had said so, she'd seen it in his letters, but to actually hear the actual words come out of his actual mouth. . .
"Gracie?"
"Huh?"
"Marry me?"
After a long moment Grace closed her mouth. Slack-jawed shock was not going to help matters.
"Gabriel," she said, finally, "you are very heavily sedated right now. I'm going to let the drugs wear off. I'll see you later."
"Gracie!" he called, or tried to. His broken ribs jabbed into his lungs as unforgivingly as Grace, herself. She doesn't want me. She came back, but she doesn't want me.
Too tired and in too much pain to call out, or ever to cry, a silent tear crept down his face. Another followed it. Worn out, he fell into troubled sleep.
Last update: October 24, 2007
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