"An Angel's Beginning"



The young boy was engrossed in a book when his father's voice came floating up the stairs. He didn't hear him until he called again, louder this time. "Gabriel, come down here. It's time to eat."

His brown eyes blinked as he was jerked from his trance. He sighed, closed the book, and pushed his chair back. Walking slowly out of the room and down the stairs, he thought about what he had just read. The aroma of cooked meat and potatoes drifted up to him. He breathed in deeply through his nose. The scent caused his stomach to rumble, and he forgot about the book for the moment.

When he walked into the dining room, his parents were sitting at the table, and there was a plate sitting at his place at the table. Gabriel pulled his chair out and dropped into it. He started to shovel the food into his mouth realizing for the first time how hungry he was. He stopped with the fork halfway between his plate and mouth noticing that the two adults were just looking at him and not eating.

Lowering the fork back down to his plate, he looked up at them. His dad cleared his throat before speaking. "Gabriel, I had a conference with your teacher today."

He nodded his head waiting for him to continue.

"She told me that you aren't participating in class at all or socializing with the other kids. Only Sly Marcus and Amie Trasten."

"They're my friends."

"What about the other kids?"

Gabriel just shrugged his shoulders looking down at his plate.

"Your teacher said you don't talk to them at all."

"They don't talk to me!" The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I would talk to them, but none of them like me."

"I'm sure that's not true," his mother said trying to comfort him.

His gaze had returned to his plate, but he looked back up now. His eyes were filled with pain. "Yes, it is. They tell me I'm weird."

"Your teacher said you talk to her after class. She thinks you're very smart, so she doesn't understand why you don't speak up in class."

Gabriel didn't look up from his plate when he answered. "They already make fun of me enough. They all think I'm a know-it-all. I don't mean to be that way."

He finished eating his dinner in silence. His parents exchanged concerned glances with each other, but he didn't notice; he was too busy concentrating on his plate. When he had finished, Gabriel asked to be excused. His father nodded, and the young boy slid his chair away from the table.

He made his way up the stairs deep in thought. He was only eleven years old, but sometimes he felt several years older. Once in his room, he sat at the desk and opened his book again. The title of it was Mysteries of the Ancient Ones. It had everything, or at least everything that anyone knew, about the Anasazis in it. The page he had opened to had a picture of a necklace. He had to squint to make it out. There was a sun caught in a web hanging from a leather string. He looked at the caption under the picture and started reading it out loud.

"The above necklace was worn by Anasazi ritual performers. It was believed that only these men could wear it. If anyone else put it on, it was believed that their soul would blacken and turn evil."

Gabriel's eyes widened with interest. He found the paragraph that talked about the necklace and read more about it. He didn't hear his dad when he knocked on the door. The sound of the door opening brought him out of his trance-like state. His head spun around, and when he saw his dad, a sheepish grin spread across his face. "Sorry, Dad. Didn't hear you."

Peter Bowman smiled at his son. "Must be a good book."

Gabriel nodded his head. "Very interesting."

His father sat down on the bed and cleared his throat. Gabriel's eyes sharpened knowing he was about to say something. Before he could, the young boy said, "Don't worry about it, Dad. I know what you're gonna say. They're just jealous, just ignore them. It doesn't work, but don't worry about it."

Peter put his hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. "You're older than your years, son. And sometimes I wish you weren't. But you'll be fine. I'm sure of that."

Gabriel smiled at his dad, but didn't know what to say in reply. Peter released his shoulder and said, "Amie's downstairs."

A wide grin spread across his face, and he ran his fingers quickly through his hair. Then, he nearly flew past his father and down the stairs. As soon as he reached the bottom, he slowed down and calmly walked to the front door. He opened it and slipped outside.

Amie was standing on the porch. She was four inches taller than his 4 feet, 9 inches. It didn't look like she had brushed her brown hair, but he knew she had. It didn't matter if she did anything with it, because it never stayed in place. Her brown eyes were shining happily; the way they always were. She couldn't hide her emotions because of them. After three months of school, her tan was beginning to fade.

"Hello, Amie. How are you?"

"Good. What did Mrs. Sheridan say about you?"

"I don't talk enough, and I'm antisocial."

Amie giggled. "My parents said she told them the same thing about me."

Gabriel ran his fingers unconsciously through his hair. "Wonder what she said about Sly."

"Want to go see him?"

He nodded his head. "Hold on. Let me make sure I can." He stepped back through the door and found his parents in the living room. He cleared his throat, and when they looked at him, he asked, "Dad, can I go to see Sly?"

Peter glanced down at his watch, then back up at his son. "Sure, but don't stay long. It's going to be dark in about an hour. Be home before that."

"I will," he replied before dashing out the door. Once they arrived at their friend's house, Gabriel knocked on the door. Sly's mother answered, and the young boy asked her, "Is Sly here?"

She smiled at them and nodded her head. "He's back in his room. Come on in."

They walked down the hallway to their friend's bedroom. He let them in then closed the door again. Amie sat on the bed, and Gabriel walked over to the desk and looked at the paper laying on it. Picking it up, he turned to Sly. "This is really good, man."

"Thanks, Gabe. I started it this morning."

Amie shook her head. "I'm always writing, Gabe's always reading about the ancient and mysterious, and you're always drawing. We make a perfect team."

The three of them grinned. Then Gabriel asked, "What did Mrs. Sheridan say about you?"

"I don't talk enough and draw too much. She thinks I should be more social."

Amie giggled. "She thinks the same thing about us."

They talked for another ten minutes, then Gabriel said, "I need to go. Have to be home before dark."

"Okay, Gabe," Sly said. "See you in school Monday."

Gabriel and Amie walked outside saying good bye to Sly's mother on their way out the door. He walked with Amie to her house. Once she had closed the door behind her, he turned around and walked home.

*******

The three friends were sitting at a picnic table on the school playground after lunch. Gabriel had his book open; Sly was sketching a drawing, and Amie was working on a story. The two boys were sitting on one side of the table with Amie across from them. They all heard the footsteps as two boys came up to the table.

Gabriel's head jerked up, and his eyes narrowed as he recognized them. Matt and Dale Nolan were twins. They were also bullies. They had dark blond hair and green eyes that always had a mean look in them. Amie shrunk away from the larger one, Dale, as he came closer. These two never seemed to leave her alone. He grabbed her notebook from the table and started flipping through it.

"Give that back to me," she demanded with more force than she felt.

He ripped out a page, crushed it into a ball, and dropped it on the ground. Gabriel stood up and walked slowly around the table; the rage was rising in him. When he reached Dale, he grabbed his arm and said, "She told you to give it back, now give it back."

Dale's other arm came around and hit Gabriel in the stomach. He doubled over in pain and let go of the arm. Then, a fist smashed against his nose. He was stunned for a second until the rage took over. One fist caught Dale over the eye, and the next one hit him in the chin. Dale stumbled back and tripped over Sly's outstretched leg. Matt stepped forward and he hit Gabriel in the nose again.

His hands went to his nose and the other boy hit him in the stomach sending Gabriel to the ground. A second later he was getting to his feet. Before either of them could land any more blows, a teacher was separating them. "How many times do I have to tell you two to stop picking fights?" It was a rhetorical question, so he didn't expect an answer. He didn't get one.

While Matt stared at the ground, Dale glared around the teacher at Gabriel. He met the other boy's glare with on of his own. Turning to him, the teacher said, "Gabriel, go to the nurse and have her clean you up. Then, go to the office. You two," he said to the other boys, "get there now. Mr. Farrell can decide what to do with you."

With a glance at his two friends, Gabriel started up to the school. Blood was running from his nose, and his stomach hurt from the blows he had taken there. Once the nurse had stopped the bleeding, she washed the dried blood from under his nose. Then, he walked to the office. He had to wait outside until the principal called him in.

Dale and Matt brushed past him as they left the office. He walked inside and sat in a chair across the desk from Mr. Farrell. "What happened, Gabriel? They told me," he said waving at the closed door, "that you started it. But I can't believe that you would provoke them."

"I didn't, sir."

"Then what happened?"

"They were picking on Amie. They wouldn't leave her alone."

"You should have told the teacher on duty."

"I know, sir. I'm sorry."

"From now on if they bother you, tell a teacher. Don't get into a fight."

"I won't, sir."

"I still have to call your parents, you know."

"Yes, sir," Gabriel replied softly.

The principal looked at him with sympathy. When he spoke, his voice was firm, but kind. "That's all. Get to class."

******* When Gabriel got home after school, his parents were waiting for him in the living room. Both of them looked incredibly upset. With his head bent, he stood in front of them. "Sit down," his father said.

He let his book bag slip from his back, then sank into a chair keeping his eyes on the floor. He chanced a look up at his father's face. He could see a combination of anger and sadness in it. Not able to stand to see the look of disappointment there as well, his gaze returned to the floor.

"I got a call from your principal today. He said that you got into a fight at recess. Gabriel, look at me."

The young boy forced his head up. He was doing his best to keep the tears back. He didn't want his dad to be mad at him, and he didn't want him to see him cry like a baby. He also didn't know how to fix things. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Why did you get into a fight with these boys? You don't usually do things like that."

"They were picking on Amie."

"And for this you picked a fight?" Peter interrupted.

"She's my friend! I couldn't let them do that," he replied trying to make his father understand.

The pain in his son's voice made it even harder for punishing him for something the boy thought he had done for the right reasons. "You're grounded. You will come home right after school every day for the next two weeks. You will not go to Sly's or Amie's house for that same amount of time. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Good. Now, go up to your room until supper is ready."

Gabriel picked up his book bag and dragged his feet up the stairs to his room. He closed the door behind him and sank onto his bed. Large teardrops rolled down his cheeks. He wished his dad could understand why he felt he'd had to fight. But he didn't, and Gabriel knew he never would.

He wiped the wetness from his face. For the next hour, he just stared across the room at the wall. Then, his mother called him down to dinner. It was eaten in silence, and when he had finished, Gabriel went back up to his room to do his homework.

A half hour later he heard his door open, but didn't look around. He recognized his father's footstep as he walked across the room. His hand came down lightly on Gabriel's shoulder letting him know that everything was okay. They stayed that way for a minute, then he withdrew his hand and left the room without saying a word.

*******

The next day Gabriel was walking home after school. He was afraid that Sly and Amie thought he was mad at them because he wouldn't walk home with them after school like he usually did. That morning he hadn't said anything more than hello to them. They had tried to cheer him up, but nothing would make him smile. If anything, it made him feel worse. He was dwelling on this and kicking a rock in front of him on the way home.

With his mind occupied, he didn't notice the boy's stepping in front of him until they were blocking his way. Gabriel looked at them sharply and demanded, "Get out of my way. I have to get home."

"I don't care," Dale Nolan replied. "Because of you, we were suspended. You're gonna pay for that."

"It's not my fault. I'm not the one pushing other kids around so I can feel good about myself."

Matt slipped around behind him and grabbed Gabriel's arms. Dale hit him in the stomach several times, then started in on his face. Finally he stopped, and Matt let go of his arms. His knees gave out on him causing him to fall to the ground. They sent a couple of boots to his ribs before running off as someone came out and yelled at them.

The old man walked over to where Gabriel was laying curled up in a ball. He helped the young boy to his feet just as he started to vomit. When he had finished, the man got him into the house. He sat him down in a chair, then washed the blood from his face. Gabriel just kept saying, "I have to go. I have to get home."

Finally the man asked him what his phone number was. Then, he called Gabriel's parents. While they were waiting for them to come pick him up, the old man felt along each of his patient's ribs, but didn't think anything was broken. "Probably just bruised," he muttered to himself.

There was a cut above Gabriel's left eye, and there was no doubt that his right one would be swollen in only a short time. There was also a cut on his right cheekbone. His jaw was mottled purple and yellow. Blood was still flowing from his nose, and his lip was split.

Ten minutes later his parents arrived. His mother wrapped her arms around him and wouldn't stop asking if he was all right. He assured her that he was, but she wouldn't listen to him. Peter tried to help him out to the car, but he didn't want any help. He made it out to the car before a wave of nausea washed over him. It left him feeling weak, and his legs started to fold under him. His father rushed over to him and helped him into the car. Turning back to the man, he said, "Thank you. I'm sorry about the mess."

"It's not a problem. I'm glad I could help."

When they got home, his father helped Gabriel into bed. His mother insisted on fussing over him in spite of his arguments. Finally they left him alone, and he pushed himself up in bed. It sent a spear of pain through his ribs, but he just clenched his teeth until it passed. Then, he pulled his math book out of his bag and started his homework.

The next day his parents wouldn't let him go to school. He had to stay in bed all day. His mother brought all of his meals up to him. By the time the sun was going down, he was getting very restless. He swung his feet to the floor and slowly stood up. Then, he walked out of the room and to the top of the stairs. When he got there, his head was spinning out of control. He thought he was going to fall down the stairs, so he turned around and slowly made his way back to his room.

The day after that he was back in school. At lunch, Amie sat across from him and said, "They're gone."

Gabriel's mind was still working slowly from the blows he had taken. "What?"

"The Nolan twins. They were transferred to another school."

It took as second for what she had said to sink in, then he let out a sigh of relief. "Good," was all he said before finishing his lunch.