The Barren Tree
Chapter 7
by Myeerah, published on May 5, 2001
"I must say, Herr Knight, that you are a much more agreeable patient after you have had visitors." Doktor Eisenbeis peered at him over her charts. There was a noticeable difference. His color had returned, bruises were almost indistinguishable, and most surprisingly, he had allowed his hair to be cut so that it would grow back evenly.
"You're a barrel of sunshine yourself, doc," he said, but in good humor.
"You are recovering with remarkable speed, Herr Knight. If you continue at this rate, you might be released in two more weeks."
"Two weeks? Why so long?" He cocked his head to one side. "What could I possibly do to myself if I go home?"
"You can move around too soon, rebreak your hips and pelvis, and spend the rest of your life with a severe limp--if you walk again at all."
He considered this for a moment, then grinned disarmingly. "How 'bout if I promise not to?"
She couldn't help herself; Doktor Eisenbeis laughed loudly. Finally she answered him, "No. Good try, but no. Your charm does not work on me, although I must confess that half of the staff are smitten with you."
"Only half?"
She laughed again. "Possibly more," she conceded. "You're still not going anywhere, Herr Knight."
"I'm goin' stir crazy in here, doc. I need to get out."
"I'm sorry, but you can't. I gather that you are a writer. Why not write?"
"I can't work in here. I need to get out!"
"Too bad."
"You're all heart, doc."
"Consider this, Herr Knight: the less strain you place on yourself now, the more likely you are to recover your sexual abilities."
"That was blunt, doc. You're tellin' me the longer I'm here, the better my chances, right?"
"Yes."
"Two weeks, huh?"
"Most likely."
"Wanna make it three?"
Celeste and Gran were going home and Gabriel wanted to discuss something with Gerde, first.
"How are things goin' at ol' Schloss Ritter, Gerde?"
"Rather hectic. The elevator should be installed within the next week."
"Elevator?"
"Yes, Gabriel." At his blank expression she continued, "Perhaps it has not occurred to you that you will be unable to walk for several months? Schloss Ritter was not built with wheelchairs in mind."
"Sh*t! I'd blocked that off. F*ck! What can I do in a f*cking wheelchair?"
Irritated with his self-pity, Gerde lashed out. "Catch up on your studies perhaps? Learn something of your duties as Schattenjäger? Finally learn to speak German, seeing as you live in Germany?" She was fuming. "Why did you want to know?"
Gabriel almost cringed, but thought better of it. Why should he? "D*mn me, Gerde, I just wanted to know if you needed any help. Obviously it's more entertaining to yell at me, though. Forgiiive me!" The sarcastic drawl did nothing to alleviate either of their tempers.
"Well guys," came a voice, "it's 'bout time we were--what's up with you two?" Celeste looked back and forth between them. "Having a tiff?"
"It's nothing," Gerde assured her. Gabriel grunted his agreement.
Oddly enough, it was true. All tension drained out of them instantly.
Weird.
"Celeste, I've been meanin' to ask you somethin'," Gabriel said. "You were sayin' that you're graduatin' this year, right?"
"Yeah. Skipping a coupla grades'll do that to a girl."
"I was wondering', if it's okay with Gerde, here, if you'd like to come back for the summer?"
"Like to?" Celeste was almost bouncing on her toes. "I'd love to! Is it okay, Gerde?"
Looking curiously at Gabriel, Gerde said, "It would be my pleasure."
"Great!" Celeste kissed Gabriel on the forehead, then threw her arms around Gerde. "This is so sool! Wait until I tell Mom!" She ran excitedly out of the room.
"That was weird."
Gerde nodded her agreement.
Their gazes locked for a full minute.
They both laughed.
Gabriel Knight was a very handsome man, even confined to a hospital bed. Thick blond hair, newly cropped, framed a chiseled face containing the most gorgeous green eyes and the most sensual lips ever to be found on a man. The curve of his cheekbones and the lines of his neck were alluring. Even broken as it was, his body was muscular and wonderful to behold. To complete the picture, a ready wit, sense of humor, and an effortless charm pervaded his very being.
And he wants me back, Celeste thought happily.
"Come to say goodbye, Gran?" Gabriel asked affectionately.
Gran stood just inside the doorway. Worry creased her face and she fidgeted awkwardly. It was so unlike her that Gabriel tried to sit up. His hiss of pain captured her attention.
"Lie still, boy! Don't you have any sense?"
"What's wrong. . . Gran?" he managed, gasping.
"There's something I need to tell you, Gabriel," she said, reluctantly.
"Well? What is it?"
"Don't you take that tone with me, young man!" she admonished him.
"Sorry, Gran. You've got me worried 's'all," he apologized.
"Have you--" she started, "have you ever really looked at Celeste?"
"Whaddya mean?"
"Does she look at all familiar to you?"
"I hadn't thought about it, but I guess so. What are you gettin' at, Gran?"
"Gabriel, a long while back a Marianne Ryan wrote you a number of letters, most of which you never opened."
"Marianne Ryan? Doesn't ring any bells."
Gran directed a very ugly look at him before continuing. "I remembered the name when I saw it in the newspaper some time back. She had married a Thomas Bradley."
"Yeah? And?"
Gran's look could have liquefied helium. "Have you noticed that Celeste Bradley has your eyes?"
"Whut!?" Conflicting emotions washed through him, as did the pain of his outburst. Bewilderment chased denial followed by perverse satisfaction which was submerged almost immediately by embarrassment which was shouldered aside by shame. Stark confusing took its place until guilt loomed up and told the others to take the day off. They refused, and formed a solid wall, constantly growing as more arrived.
The welter held him in silence until one thought penetrated and conquered all of the others.
"Does she know?"
"Which she?"
"Celeste!" he exploded. "Does she know?" Palpable agitation poured from him.
"I don't think so. I haven't told her."
"Gran, what do I do?" he wailed.
The plea for help, so uncharacteristic of Gabriel, surprised her so much that she actually thought about it for a while.
Finally, she said, "Gabriel, I love you, my boy, but some things you have to figure out on your own. Goodbye dear."
She brushed her lips against his cheek, squeezed his hand once, looked compassionately at his stunned expression, then left.
A final thought had taken control of Gabriel's mind and refused to let go.
What's Gracie going to think about this?
Last update: October 24, 2007
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