Masque de la Terreur: a Gabriel Knight Mystery
Chapter 1, Part II
by Travis Lester, published on February 21, 2001
Gabriel stood at the front gate of St. Louis Cemetary #1 for the longest time it seemed. The damn thing was closed and locked.
Who the hell closes a cemetary?
Finally, a young black man graced Gabriel’s presence at the gate. He was carrying with him a large trash barrel, a rake and dust-pan. Dressed in coveralls and light blue t-shirt, he looked familiar to Gabriel for some reason.
“You been waitin’ here for me to open this?” the young man asked Gabriel with a smile through the prison-like bars of the towering gate.
“Well, I sure ain’t plannin’ on climbin’ in,” Gabriel grinned back.
The man nodded. “I ain’t sposed to let anyone in here, man.”
“Why not?” Gabriel asked, a bit baffled as to why a cemetary would be cut off from the public.
“Cleanin’ up.” the man gestured to his tools. “Kids today, know-what-ah-mean?”
“Aw, yeah,” Gabriel sucked on his lip, a bit pissy. “Sh*t, ain’t there no way you can let me in?”
“I dunno, man,” the man seemed like he wanted to. “I ain’t sposed to.”
“C’mawn, son,” Gabriel tried. “I ain’t exactly plannin’ on startin’ a party in there or anything.”
The man laughed. Gabriel realized this to quite often be a sign of defeat on his adversary’s part.
“I tell ya what,” the young man said firmly. “I'll let you in here, but you gotta keep your hell-raisin’ to a minimum, alright?”
Gabriel wiped his brow. “Well, shucks. I'll try to contain myself.”
The man laughed again and began to fidget with the rusted hunk of a pad-lock on the opposite side of the gate.
The gate swung open with a loud, creaking whine. Gabriel noticed one of the hinges on the left gate had rusted over so bad that it had begun to corrode, causing the gate to hang a bit and drag against the rough gravel.
“C’mon in,” the man gestured. Gabriel did so, and watched as the man began to close the gates behind him. “Why the hell’a damn graveyard needs gates this damn heavy beats the hell outta me.”
“I've sometimes wondered the same thing,” Gabriel says. “Don’t know whether it’s to keep the livin’ out or the dead in.”
The black man laughed his deep, proud laugh again. “Little’a both, I reckon.”
Gabriel shook his head, his brain curiosity eating at him. “I know you.”
The man peered over his shoulder as he re-fastened the padlock into place. “I don’t think I know you. If I seen ya, it ain’t been here. I've been in college this whole year.”
“I ain’t sure where it was, but you look awful familiar.”
“Maybe you’re thinkin’ of my granddaddy.” the man finished his business with the gate and approached Gabriel. “He usually works here, but he’s got the flu. I just came down here to fill in for him.”
“Damn thing’s gettin’ around, ain’t it?” Gabriel sighs, hands in the pockets of his biker’s jacket. “My gran’s got it.”
The man leaned against the handle of his rake, both hands folded over the top, eyes a bit distant. “It’s been pretty bad here lately. My whole family’s been sicker than hell. I figure my time’s comin’ soon.”
“How is your granddaddy, anyway?” Gabriel asked. He remembered the old fella.
“He’s alright. Refuses to go to the doctor, but, hell, that’s granddaddy.” the man chuckled. “How you know him?”
Gabriel shrugged lightly. “Don’t really. I just ‘member seein’ him ‘round here quite a bit.”
“He loved this place,” the young man made a face like he was sucking on a tooth. “Never knew why, but I think it’s ‘cause granny’s grave’s here. Ever since she died, he ain’t never been the same.”
Gabriel looked down sympathetically, thinking of his own grandmother. She worried him...
“Aw sh*t, man,” the young black man laughed again, extending his sweating hand. He quickly withdrew it, wiping it on the pants leg of his cover-alls and held it back out again. “My name’s Harold.”
Gabriel took his hand, shaking it firmly. “Mine’s Knight. Gabriel.”
Harold re-collected his hand. A crypt over Harold’s shoulder grabbed Gabriel’s attention. It was marred heavily by spray-paint graffiti.
Harold turned to see where Gabriel was looking. “Damn shame, ain’t it? Kids just ain’t got no respect anymore.”
Gabriel scratched his head, thinking. New Orleans had changed a lot since he had returned.
“Well, I better get back to work,” Harold said politely. “It was mighty fine talkin’ to ya, Mister Knight.”
“Same here, Harold.” Gabriel smiled. “And call me Gabriel.”
Harold nodded, collecting his trash barrel. “Take ‘er easy, Gabriel.”
Gabriel watched him as he walked away, disappearing behind a row of tombs.
Gabriel wandered down the cemetary a bit, remembering certain things as he saw them again for the first time in a while. Seeing new things, like obscenities marked onto crypt walls.
Despite the disfigurement, it was still one of the most beautiful sites in all of New Orleans. Gabriel couldn't help but love the old place. The beauty of it. Even on that warm Summers day, with the baby blue sky above, it still held an aura of mystery and enchantment to it...
Son of a b*tch...
Gabriel quickened his pace as he approached the Wright tomb. On the wall of the tomb someone had obviously been perfecting a crude mural of the female anatomy. Gabriel stared at the ‘art’ as though it were a slander against him personally.
“Goddammit,” he swore, trying to rub it off with his bare hands to no avail. He gave up almost as soon as he began, shaking his head and returning to the front of the tomb. Pissed off was a stage of his anger that he’d left behind ten minutes ago, so Gabriel made his ‘hello’s and ‘how ya doin’?’s and ‘I love y’all’’s curt and concise.
Gabriel stared up to the heavens for a moment, a strong breeze seemed to travel through the graveyard like a serpent, playing absolute havoc with his hair. Gabriel remembered the times his Gran would bring him to the grave-yard to pay his respects as a child. The fabled gust of air was something of a myth among the church kids. It was a strong collection of wind that traveled throughout the cemetary, wisping in and out of tombs, never stopping and never ending. It just kept moving. It was supposedly something like a ‘soul express.’ The breeze, more aptly titled ‘the undertaker’s wind’ by the elder generation, was supposed to be the collector of souls. Going from tomb to tomb to look for new guests and collect them for the ride. It made a nice bed-time story and also, Gabriel remembered horridly, played a nice roll in one of his earlier novels.
Yeah, one of the one’s that didn't sell...
The breeze on this particular day seemed to come from on down in the cemetary.
Gabriel’s heart froze, his blood seemingly becoming liquid ice in his chest.
It came from the direction of the Gedde crypt.
Well, whatcha waitin’ on, son? You came here to pay your respects...
Gabriel did come to pay his respects, but he wasn't sure if he came to pay them to her exactly.
Now, that’s a load of bullsh*t. You know damn-well why you came here, you silly bastard.
And he did. Sadly, visiting his folks was just an excuse. To whom that excuse was directed, he didn't know because the look on his Gran’s face, when he left, showed that she wasn't fooled a bit.
Gabriel tightened his jacket around him like a shield and proceeded down the grave-yard.
Why he still needed a shield to protect his heart, made Gabriel feel a bit less confident as he walked. He’d hoped that he’d truly gotten over the girl some respectable degree.
That’s what you get for runnin’ away and not stickin’ around to see the grave you sent her to...
God, that hurt. He stopped walking immediately. He couldn't go any further. Would she want to see him? Even hear his voice? Would any payment of his respects be worth spit to her?
No, Gabriel reasoned. They’d made their peace long ago at the chasm in the hounfour.
He had no reason to see her, did he?
Gabriel closed his eyes softly and realized his answer. Dutifully, he resumed his delayed approach of the Gedde crypt.
Gabriel walked, his mind as blank and empty as the sky above--he tried to keep his mind clear. Tried not to think on what he was about to do. Tried to ignore the weakness, the oh-so-familiar weakness that returned to his knees as he grew closer and closer to his destination.
And then it almost creeped up on him. The Gedde crypt seemed to present itself before him like a child revealing itself in a hide-and-seek game. Gabriel watched the building respectively as he walked towards it. He suddenly felt as though he were not controlling himself. He felt as though he were on a roller coaster and no matter if he looked away or closed his eyes, when he finally had the balls to look--he’d find himself face to face with the grim presence of the tomb.
Gabriel ascended the short array of steps at the breast of the tomb and came to the door. The small panel that housed the button to the door had long-since been sealed off. He had no desire to enter, though, and he crouched on his knees, trying to make himself comfortable.
He felt cold. So unbearably cold.
His breaths were short and quick, just like his rapid heart-beat.
Calm yourself down. Jesus...
He stared at the plain-colored marble wall. It suddenly dawned on him that this particular crypt had suffered no tarnishment nor ‘amateur art’ from any spray-cans or young hipsters. No graffiti what-so-ever.
Gabriel couldn't help but smile, wondering if Tetelo’s magic might still be present, like that of a dying ember’s glow.
Gabriel truly wanted to hurry up and leave, so he decided to get to the point and do what he came to do.
“Hey, Malia,” he said in his mind. He hated to speak to the dead this way, always wishing for a response, and at the moment to hear Malia’s soothing voice, which was still so clearly remembered in his mind and heart, would've been enough to ease his worry.
Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck. “I know I ain’t been around to see you. And I'm sorry.”
Gabriel instantly damned himself for not bringing her any flowers or anything. It just hadn't really occurred to him, and he felt a bit ashamed for not thinking of it.
“Well, you never really struck me as the kinda’ girl that was into that sorta thing, anyway. So... I hope You'll excuse mt this once.”
Gabriel sighed.
“Sh*t, Malia... How could I have known? I mean, we never even got into the whole dating thing, did we? F*ck, I Can't even remember what Chinese food we had that night. I remember you sayin’ somethin’ about the restaurant bein’ a bad choice, and I told you not to blame me, ‘cause I wasn't the one that picked it...”
Gabriel shook his head at himself. “I'm sorry. I guess that sh*t’s pretty meaningless, now, huh? I don’t know what to think of us, Malia. Sometimes... I just don’t know, y’know? I wonder at times if our love was... real. I mean, y’know, like... valid, maybe? I used to tell myself that fate was just havin’ itself a ball and we kinda got thrown into it. Not really our faults.”
Gabriel leaned against one of the large, sturdy columns. “That just pisses me off to think that, though. ‘Cause it’s like fate was just playin’ us for fools. I’d never loved before, and neither had you. So why did it feel the need to do that to us? I know it had to do with the damn curse, but... Hell... Well, I ain’t here to fuss about that. Ain’t sure why I'm here exactly, I just... I felt like I should talk to you. Don’t ask me why, I don’t have a good answer. I'm figurin’ you know why I'm here...”
Gabriel was almost certain she did. When his mind permitted it, he had often imagined her watching down on him from Heaven. He’d never allowed himself to think of her in Hell...
“I ‘member when you an’ her met, Malia. Or... semi-met. Haha, you ‘minded me of two old cats runnin’ into each other on the way to meet the tomcat, y’know? Coulda sworn the hair stood up on the back’a Gracie’s neck when I opened the door.”
Gabriel remembered it with a lop-sided grin. It felt good to think of that, rather than some other event he would rather leave forgotten.
“Y’know, I wonder if the view’s a lot better up there. I mean, maybe... you’re seein’ this sh*t a lot clearer than anyone can, down here. Maybe you’re understandin’ everything that happened between us. And if so, good. I hope it’s lightened the burden on you. God knows you deserve that much...”
Gabriel hugged himself tight, closing his eyes. “Alright, I'll tell you why I'm here. I love Grace. I feel stupid comin’ here to tell you that, but I feel like I'm obligated to. I feel like... like, sh*t, I don’t know... Like in a way, I'm still hooked to you. Like I'm still tied to you. And I ain’t sayin’ I'm here to break that tie, but I feel kinda guilty, y’know, Malia? I feel like I'm betrayin’ you or something. But I'm not... The love we shared... and the love I've got for Gracie... they’re two different animals.”
Gabriel sighed again. He felt some strange comfort sitting there speaking to his deceased lover. Death was a far more comforting individual to Gabriel than He was to others. Death had played a large role in Gabriel’s life, where in others He played but only a bit part. For his entire life, though, Death had been like a distant cousin that he saw every year at the annual family picnic, but graciously never had the discomfort to meet in conversation. Then in that dismal yet freeing year of 1993, Gabriel engaged in many an argument with the figure of Death. He’d witnessed His aftermath in the professor’s office. He saw Him come and go in the cathedral with Crash, in the snake mound with Wolfgang, and watched Him steal away his first love, delivering her into her resting place at the bottom of the river of lava.
Gabriel winced slightly, thinking on all these deaths and those that would come to follow in his ensuing investigations.
“Malia, I guess why I'm here is... I wanna say I'm sorry. For all of it. I know we settled things our own way back at the hounfour, but... that’s not what I'm apologizing for. I'm apologizing for... I guess, betraying you? Movin’ on? But I don’t think you really blame me for that... Had the roles been reversed, and trust me--I’d often wished it--I'm sure you’d be doin’ the same thing.”
Gabriel grew restless, running his hand through his hair and messing it up slightly. “I guess I just wanna hear you say...”
“It’s okay,” came a tiny little voice to the left of Gabriel.
He jumped almost, the voice scaring the absolute hell out of him. He found standing beside him a young black girl. She looked to be about six or seven, her hair in tight little braids and wearing a pink shirt beneath a pair of denim cover-alls. Her small hand was resting on his shoulder.
Gabriel stared at her, not saying nothing for a few moments.
“I'm sorry...?” he finally gathered his wits.
“I said, it’s okay, Mister.” she said again, resolution in her voice. There was fire in her eyes... so... familiar. “I saw you sittin’ here all sad and stuff and I just wanted ya t’know that it’s gonna be okay.”
Gabriel said nothing, his heart’s fast pace slowing...
“I'm sure they miss you,” she said nodding.
“Who?” Gabriel asked her.
The little girl’s eyes widened with spunky frustration. “Whoever yer here to see, Mister.”
Gabriel felt the corner of his mouth turn up in a grin. “You think she forgives me?” he asked delicately.
The girl nodded quickly, absolute assurance in her gesture. “Pos’tive!” she said with a great friendly innocence.
Gabriel grinned wider, his heart felt like it was melting.
“Anna-Marie!” came a shrill voice from around the corner of the crypt. A thirty-something year old black lady came running around, taking the girl by the arm. She wore cover-alls as well. “What did I tell you, girl? I told you not to wander off! I said stay by my side, didn't I?”
“I'm sorry, momma,” Anna-Marie said with a wideness in her eyes that could tame the most savage creature. “But this poor man looked so sad.”
The mother seemed to just now realize Gabriel was sitting there. He smiled politely at her.
The woman instantly pulled the girl around and held her behind her. “I'm so sorry, sir. My little girl didn't mean to interrupt you or anythin’,” she said. Her eyes held a weariness to them.
“It’s alright,” Gabriel shook his head. “It’s really okay. She was just tryin’ to help’s all.”
Anna-Marie peeked out from behind her mother and smiled sweetly at Gabriel. Several of her front teeth were missing where her primary teeth were just growing in. Gabriel grinned back at the girl.
“Well,” the mother sighed, as if trying to decide whether everything was okay or not. “What’re you doin’ in here, anyway? The cemetary’s closed.”
“Well, the man up front... uh, Harold?” Gabriel explained. “He let me in.”
“Oh,” the woman seemed slightly mythed. “Are you a friend?”
“Well, not exactly,” Gabriel said softly. “I reckon he just realized how much I needed to get in here.”
“That’s my daddy!” Anna-Marie shrieked with excitement, hiding herself in the folds of her mother’s cover-alls.
“That’s enough, Anna-Marie,” the mother silenced her daughter stiffly.
Gabriel rose to his feet. “I was just leavin’, anyway.”
“Oh, no,” the woman shook her head. “Stay as long as you like. didn't mean to disturb you.”
Gabriel stared at Anna-Marie strangely. “It’s alright, ma’am.”
The woman nodded slowly, saying nothing, before turning and tugging Anna-Marie along behind her as she disappeared behind the Gedde crypt. Before going around the corner, Anna-Marie turned around and waved him good-bye with her free hand.
Gabriel stared at the spot even after they’d long-gone before turning around to the crypt. A sad smile etched upon his face.
“Thanks, Malia...” he whispered, placing his hand on the column. “Knew you’d understand.
Last update: October 25, 2007
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