The Fall of Never(44)

“I guess I picked up a different track along the way.”

“Are you still painting?” She almost asked a more personal question, but noticed his ring finger was naked at the last second. “Other than houses, I mean.”

“Yes,” he said, “still plugging away. I actually had a small showing in the city last month. Nothing big, but it was something.”

“Damn, you should have looked me up. I didn’t know.”

“You’re in the city now?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m so sorry I missed it. I would have loved it.”

“It was exciting.”

“I’m sure it was spectacular.”

“I wish I knew about you,” he said. “Being in the city, I mean. I would have loved for you to be there.”

She rubbed her shoulders and said, “It’s cold, let’s go inside.”



As a child, she first spied Gabriel through a thicket of trees. He’d been playing in the woods by himself—as was she—when she heard someone sobbing. She followed the sound through the thicket and happened upon a meek, wild-haired boy in square eyeglasses fighting back tears by the edge of the small brook that ran through the woods. Both his knees were cut and bleeding and he had managed to tear off a section of his filthy T-shirt, dip it in the cool brook water, and dab at his bloodied knees.

She stepped on a fallen branch and he jerked his head up. He saw her standing between the trees, a little forest nymph. Something inside her made her blush, like someone caught eavesdropping, and she unconsciously backed up a step. The boy watched her, his eyes swimming behind the thick lenses of his glasses, unmoving.

“Hello,” she nearly whispered. “Did you get hurt?”

“I fell,” the boy said. He pointed up and behind him where he—or someone—had tied a cut log to a rope suspended from a high tree branch. A makeshift swing.

“You’re hurt,” she said, stepping out from behind the trees and moving beside him. She caught their reflections in the rippling brook water and thought, No one ever comes up here in these woods. Kids from town are afraid of these woods.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said. He finished blotting his cut knees and wrung the wet piece of cloth over the water.

“Did you tie that swing up in that tree?”

The boy nodded.

“How did you get all the way up there?”

“I climbed.”

“That whole tree?”

“Just up to the branch.” He pointed to the branch tied with the piece of rope. “See?”

“That’s pretty high up,” she marveled.

“It’s not so high. I can climb higher.”

“Higher than that? Aren’t you afraid you’ll fall again?”

He just shook his head and puffed his chest out the slightest bit. He was a small thing, more fragile than she, and his body was covered in a barrage of scrapes, cuts, and bruises. Now, his ruddy face grew red. “I can climb to the top.”

“Wow,” she said, craning her neck back to look up. The top was a hundred feet high if it was an inch, she hypothesized. “You’ve climbed to the top before?”

The boy thought this over before shaking his head. Even at such a young age, there was ample intelligence and a mature sense of peace in his eyes. “Well, no, not yet. But I’ve been practicing. I climb up a little at a time, and each time I go up some more and up some more and pretty soon I’ll make it to the top. Just not yet.”

“You should be careful,” she told him. “You could fall and hurt yourself again.”

“You too.”

“Me too what? What do you mean?”

Hesitantly, he pointed at her forehead. “You’re bleeding, too,” he said.




Gabriel Farmer followed Kelly into the house. In the kitchen he gave Glenda a quick hug and helped her place Becky’s flowers in a crystal vase. Kelly arranged her own bouquet in a second vase, very conscious of the fact that Gabriel was watching her from the corner of his eye.

“Is Mr. Kellow around?” Gabriel asked.

“Always around,” Glenda said. “Here and there.”

“He was outside this morning,” Kelly said.

“He must still be looking for Mr. Rotley,” Glenda said, placing the crystal vase on the kitchen table and wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “There,” she said complacently, “that looks beautiful. Such a thoughtful boy, Mr. Farmer. I’m sure Becky will cherish them once she wakes up.”

“Do you think I could peek in at her?”

Kelly saddled up beside him. “I’ll take you up.”

“Ahhh, now,” Glenda said, smiling. “You two together—it’s like you’re both children all over again. Didn’t she grow up to be so beautiful, Gabriel?”

His face turning red, Gabriel said, “Yes. Quite beautiful.”

“Who would have thought, right?” Kelly snickered and winked at Glenda. “Come on,” she said, and led him upstairs.

Becky’s door was unlocked and Kelly eased it open. Gabriel followed her inside. The room was stale and stuffy. Kelly quickly became aware of Gabriel’s aftershave, of his broad yet delicate presence stepping across the plush carpet behind her. They both stopped at the side of Becky’s bed.