Gabriel

Seven tops. Check. Seven bottoms. Check. Socks. Check. Underwear. Check. Emma pauses. She re-examines her bottoms. Is seven too many? She has two pairs of jeans, two pairs of sweats, two pairs of leggings, and a palazzo set for her pajamas. Maybe she could lose one of the sweats. Those don’t smell after multiple wears. She could ditch the palazzo set, too. Just sleep in her underwear. Emma sighs, like she’s been thinking this through for way too long. Clothes are only half the battle. Well, maybe more like four-fifths of the battle. Her suitcase is getting pretty full.

Emma ducks into the bathroom to gather her makeup. But first, she examines her black eye. Bits of purple show through. More concealer is needed. The concealer is running low. Great. Money is thin enough as it is. Speaking of thinness, Emma checks herself in the mirror. She’s been losing weight. Like, a concerning amount. The skinny jeans that she’s wearing no longer seem all that skinny.

Dean’s snoring drowns out the sound of Emma sneaking back into the bedroom. It didn’t matter that it was going on noon. Dean was out like a rock. That’s what a night at the bar will get you. The smell of vodka lingers on his breath. It suffocates the room. Perfect. Now all of Emma’s stuff will smell like that deadbeat.

Emma digs into some cabinet drawers, taking out select family heirlooms. A couple of books from her childhood. Check. A Polaroid from an old Thanksgiving. Check. Degrees, Licenses, and other vital documents. Check.

“Mama?”

Emma jumps, startled. Also pissed at herself for forgetting to shut the door. Paul stands in the frame.

“Mama, is it almost time to go? I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Baby, you’ve only been awake for forty-seven minutes.” Emma glances at her suitcase. It’s good enough for now. She zips it up and silently slides it beneath the bed.

She had promised this fun day to Paul for his packing efforts. Emma had needed something to entice him after she discovered only Batman action figures, Star Wars LEGO, and a sock puppet in his suitcase. She was partly to blame for that. What else should she have expected?

The trip he was packing for, as far as Paul knew, was a week-long visit to Grandpa’s house. The truth is, the trip would almost definitely take longer.

Paul jumps up and down giddily. Rainforest Rapids is on the agenda for him today. And thankfully for Emma, the most expensive part of the adventure will be the drive it takes to get there.

OK, Paul’s being too loud. It’s bordering on a racket. “Quiet, quiet, quiet. You’re gonna wake Dad.”

Paul quiets down, but he can’t fully cover up his joy. Emma looks back at Dean.

The window is rolled down while Emma cruises along a small-town street. She has a newly bought car, but its rust-infested exterior is enough to prove that the car itself isn’t new. The radio plays ‘Faithfully’ by Journey. Whenever Emma hears this song, it takes her back to prom. ‘Faithfully’ had been the last song they played that night. She remembers her arms around Jake’s neck. She remembers Jake driving her back to his house, where they had had sex after the dance. She remembers how Jake had held her, and how she had told him that she never wanted to stop being in that moment. She had broken up with him a month and a half later. As Emma listens, she wonders how Jake and his wife are doing. Emma bets that Jake’s wife doesn’t have to live in fear.

The song finishes on the radio. Emma checks on Paul in the back seat to make sure he’s doing OK. He’s picking his nose. Not hiding it. At least that means he’s comfortable. POOF!

Emma and Paul snap to attention thanks to the strange noise that emanates from the radio. What started as a seemingly magical sound effect has now morphed into some mischievous orchestral score. An old woman’s voice transcends through the sound.

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen, my name is Meredith, but many of your children might know me as Meredith the mystic. I post educational videos online, with the help of my partner Gabriel. With that said, I’m looking to retire, and I think that it’s time Gabriel finds a new home. Please visit Michael’s Pet Store today at four P.M. if this sounds like an offer of interest to you. Thank you so much.”

That’s probably the weirdest ad ever.

“Mama, can we get Gabriel?”

Emma’s mouth falls open. Was he seriously asking for more? Emma couldn’t even afford more concealer.

“No! What? No! No, we cannot get Gabriel. Where the hell are we going to have room for a dog?”

“Meredith Gabriel’s an owl, not a dog.”

“Do you watch his videos?”

Paul nods. “Gabriel is a helper owl. When kids feel lost, or can’t focus, Meredith will send him over to help.”

Emma shakes her head. That’s silly. “The answer is no.”

Paul gives up. Emma pulls in and parks in the Rainforest Rapids parking lot.

“Now let’s enjoy this, OK?”

Emma watches Paul splash around. He’s by himself. All alone. Surrounded by other kids. She checks her watch. Three P.M. What is she thinking? Forget about it. Forget about Paul. His wants need to wait. His wants need to wait? They’ve been waiting his whole damn life. He hasn’t had someone to play ball with him, someone to listen to his stories. Someone to watch TV with him. Dean was too busy getting drunk or getting angry. Fuck that guy.

Emma wades out into the water. Paul starts to climb up the giant rickety rubber-padded tree-tower.

“Baby, come down!” Paul shrinks. “Baby, I’ve been thinking more about Gabriel-”

He perks up again, suddenly. “Can we get him?”

“I don’t know. But. Maybe we just give him a look. Meredith didn’t mention a price. Maybe he’s cheap.”

That’s all Paul needs to hear. Good job, Mom. Hopefully, his hopes aren’t spiked too high.

Michael’s Pet Store is, no pun intended, a zoo. By the looks of it, a number of other kids also dragged their Moms and Dads to this thing. This had better be worth it. It took damn near an hour to get there.

Michael’s has mostly pet food and toys. A couple of small pets, like snakes, and fish, and tarantulas, and guinea pigs, are stored here. Please, Lord, don’t let Gabriel be social like a guinea pig. The last thing Emma wanted was a pet that required friends or a deep social connection. She didn’t have time for that. Moreover, she didn’t have the money for a friend.

Growing up, her family had owned a guinea pig named Jim Bean. Her family didn’t buy Jim Bean a friend. Emma had begged them to. Jim Bean had lived in her room, and every night she would go to bed, listening to him cry. That poor thing. Alone, trapped in a cage, seemingly no one is listening, and no one is coming to save you. She remembers thinking about leaving his cage open one night. All he needed was a chance to run. Instead, she woke up one morning and found him dead.

Then, out comes Meredith. You couldn’t miss her. She had long flowing grey hair, the tips of which were still dyed a faded purple. She donned a large purple and gold robe that drooped excessively, covering her legs in their entirety.

An errant breeze snuck in through the cracked front door at around the same time. Meredith motions towards it, and the door seemingly shuts on its own. Emma snickers. This Meredith really thinks she’s the shit.

At around this time, the prattling childish chitter-chatter ceases. All attention goes to Meredith.

“Good afternoon everyone.”

Nobody responds. She makes a sarcastic look, indicating that she won’t proceed until reciprocity is expressed. “Good afternoon,” the crowd mumbles back. Emma can’t stop chuckling to herself.

“Thank you all so much for coming. I’m gonna bring Gabriel out in a little bit, but before I do, I wanted to add that you don’t need to worry about his food or cage or other things, because I can give that to you. With that in mind however, I do ask that any people who are not seriously interested in taking Gabriel on please leave.”

Emma pokes Paul, secretly hoping he’ll agree to go back to the car. Instead, he ignores her. Sigh.

Meredith raises her hands. “Here he comes.”

Black pupils, swallowed whole by ominous yellow. Pointy peaks shoot up on either side of his head. His chest is puffed. His brows are furrowed. The commanding sneer of his downward hooked beak emphasizes the prominence of his figure. His thick, sharp claws clash against the glass where he stands. With hints of sass and flair, he kicks out his wings.

“Hoot. Hoot hoot. Hoot.”

Meredith laughs hysterically as if she understands. Then, after a short pause, Meredith glances Emma up and down, a sly grin growing on her face. Why was she doing that? Emma didn’t like it.

Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack. “Hoot. Hoot.” Gabriel paces slowly on the floor. Weaving between the patrons. He stops when he gets to Paul, who anxiously clings to Emma’s leg. Gabriel approaches nonetheless. He doesn’t seek to be pet. Instead, he observes. His eyes are like the wilderness, with how easy they are to get lost in.

Gabriel scans Emma’s face. He’s searching. Examining. Emma watches his pupils narrow, and his eye-line focus. The strange bird pours all of his attention onto Emma’s black eye. She does what she can to brush some hair over it. Then the owl moves on.

“Are you OK, Mama?”

“Yes baby. Are you?”

Paul nods. His eyes stay fixed on the owl.

After some further observations, Gabriel returns to Meredith. The two lock eyes for a while. Neither says anything. The audience is quiet too.

“Hoot hoot.”

It happens in a flash. One moment, Gabriel is standing beside Meredith. The next, he is sitting on Emma’s shoulder. The disappointed crowd groans and slowly begins to funnel out. Emma and Paul say nothing.

“Mama, does this mean we get to keep him?”

Emma struts up to Meredith, who stands waiting and ready.

“We can’t take your owl.”

“Mama, why?”

Meredith laughs. “Sure you can. You’re gonna have to.”

“Says who?”

Meredith points at Gabriel. “Says him.”

To an extent, Meredith is right. Gabriel’s mitts are dug into Emma’s shoulder. Not in a way that hurts, but in a way that sends a clear message: his decision is final.

Emma sighs. “I’m sure Gabriel is great, but I’m not really in a good spot to be taking care of an owl right now.”

“That’s why he’s here to take care of you. Emma, you had your chance to leave.”

Emma can’t get over it.

“Why me?”

“Because he thinks you need help.”

Meredith leans over the counter and kisses Gabriel goodbye.

“It’s time for you three to fly.” She gives a goofy wink, then walks into a manager’s office without another word. Jeez, thanks, lady.

The ride home is silent. Soon after Emma had sat Gabriel down and buckled him up, he was fast asleep. Emma’s mind races faster than her car. She has a new owl in her back seat, and other than the stuff Meredith had given her, she has no means of feeding, entertaining, or housing it. On top of all of that, she also needs to figure out a way to hide it from Dean.

At least, thank the lord, Dean isn’t home when Emma and Paul return. Must have clocked in at the bar already. Emma carries a still-asleep Gabriel up to Paul’s room. Like a baby, she tucks him into some of Paul’s stray blankets.

“Whatever happens, don’t let your father find him. Are you all packed?”

Paul nods.

“OK, baby.” Emma kisses him and walks out of the room.

Darkness falls. It’s three A.M. Emma is still wide awake. Finally, Dean comes home. He’s a slob, tripping and fumbling over himself, before stripping down and climbing into bed. In minutes, he’s asleep. It’s go time. Except Emma can’t move. It’s as if she is glued to the mattress. Like gravity has gotten ten times stronger. Memories of the day race through her mind. More than anything, she’s looking for an excuse to stay. Instead, she finds a piece of advice. “Time for you three to fly.”

Emma’s suitcase is first in the trunk. Then Paul’s suitcase. That was the easy part. Next up is Paul. He’s young enough to pick up, but old enough that he’s starting to get too heavy for Emma. She has to take many breaks, falling to a knee and allowing herself to catch her breath. Before long, Paul reaches his back seat.

Emma clicks in her seatbelt. Flicks on her lights.

“Mama?”

Like a deer in the headlights, Emma glares at him. “Mama, what’s happening? Where are we going?”

“We’re going to Grandpa’s, baby.”

“Right now? Where’s Gabriel?” Paul checks the trunk and around the floor. There’s no sign of him. He starts to cry aggressively.

“I want Gabriel! Don’t let us leave without him!”

“Baby, I couldn’t find him.”

She is telling the truth, but Paul couldn’t care less. If anything, his crying worsens. Emma sighs.

Up the stairs Emma goes, in search of an owl. For all she knows, he’s awake, rummaging around at this hour. She’s sure of it, she decides, because while she approaches Paul’s room, a rustling sound grows louder and louder.

“Let’s go, Gab-”

She stops. Dean turns around. Stares at her.

“Who’s Gabe?” Emma feels the whole of the moon come crashing down on her. “Where is Paul?” Dean’s tone feels like it’s getting progressively more upset. Emma continues to ignore him. One wrong word. She doesn’t want to think about it. “What did you do to him!?” The bedroom walls shake. He starts to approach her slowly. She decides Gabriel can wait.

She bolts out of Paul’s room. Dean is too quick. He springs out like a Jack-in-the-box and tackles Emma onto the floor. She closes her eyes. She can leave in the morning. This will be over soon. Just don’t hurt Paul.

Her thoughts are interrupted by Dean’s terrified screaming. Emma opens her eyes. Gabriel thrashes and gouges at Dean viciously. His wings flap in a tremendous uproar. Dean tries to crawl away, but there is no escaping Gabriel’s grip.

Emma makes eye contact with Gabriel. Then she runs as hard as she can down the stairs, gets in her car, reverses it out of the driveway, and never looks back.