Chapter 6: Hindrance

It wasn't a particularly clever play on words, although when they were freshman in high school they had considered it such. Their joint, that place where they could always meet in the middle of the night, where they could go after she came under his window and woke him up with the tinkling of deftly thrown pebbles. It was called their joint because it was the place they had, once, actually smoked one.

They were freshman, it was homecoming. In Coppler's Grove everyone went to homecoming, not going was unthinkable, regardless of whether or not one had a date. Gabriel didn't, Phillis did. He was a junior, a guard on the basketball team, and generally known as a total sleazebag. But that never seemed to matter to Phillis. She had come to Gabriel, standing on the edge of the dance floor, too shy to even approach the wallflowers, only an hour into the dance. She was crying.

"Phil," Gabriel had said softly, allowing her to fall, sobbing into his compassionate embrace. "What happened?"

"Don't even ask," she said resting her head on his shoulder. Her makeup, a mess of light-colored powders and glitter worked its way through her tears into the shoulder of his tux, but he didn't mind. He just held her and rocked her and stroked her hair while she cried. It wasn't that long - ten, fifteen seconds tops - but every time Gabriel remembered it the moment seemed to stretch for all eternity, like a picture in Sara's metaphysics scrapbook.

When Phillis had assured herself that Gabriel was there for her, and he was safe, she pulled away. "I wanna go," she said softly. "Please go with me."

"Of course," Gabriel answered as he reached into the deep pockets of his ill fitting tux and pulled out a large handkerchief. He gave it to her, and she accepted it gracefully. She managed to wipe off most of the cheap mascara and spread the glitter that remained on her cheeks around so that she looked almost like new. It didn't matter to Gabriel, she couldn't not be beautiful.

As they were walking out, as inconspicuously as possible (although neither of them had any doubt that the entire school knew they were leaving) Gracie pulled Gabriel aside for a moment.

"You're too nice to her," Gracie said. Gabe could smell alcohol on her breath and her eyes had a sort of wild, unfocused gleam that came with 'mind expanding' drugs. Perhaps that is why he never took what she said next to heart. "Why the hell would she chose you when you're there no matter what choice she makes?"

"You're gonna be kicked out," Gabriel warned. "As soon as Mr. Hacklin over there sees . . ."

"Oh," Gracie winced, not far gone enough to boldly dismiss his warning. "Then you'd better take the incriminating evidence." She reached into her little hand bag, pulled out one neatly wrapped joint and slipped it into his pocket. "Now you two can redeem what's left of the evening."

"Gracie," Gabriel hissed angrily. He was not about to giver her the joint back because he knew that she would get caught, and she would be in a lot more trouble if she had the drugs in her possession. But he didn't want it to be in his possession either.

Her only response to his mild protest was a sisterly kiss on the cheek, "Have a good time bro," she said, and then turned back to her friends who undoubtably had enough contraband on their persons to more than make up for her small loss.

Gabriel led Phillis out of the gym where the dance was being held and for a long time they walked around outside in silence. Finally, when they reached the baseball field on the far end of campus, the small one that was only used for P.E. and not very well kept. There were spirts of tough brownish green grass invading the base path and a nice little grove of clover spreading behind home plate. It was on the clover they sat on that slightly chilled October night. They talked for hours and hours about everything except what had happened that night. Phillis taught Gabriel how to smoke the joint and their conversations became more philosophical and less logical. He got her home around three a.m. and crawled into his bed by three thirty. He had missed Gracie, high as a kite, being brought home by the police at 1:30 and the hour long lecture she had received, even though she was in no state to really comprehend and consider what her parents were saying.

That was not the best night of Gabriel's life, but it was up there. And he assumed Phillis felt the same way, because all through highschool that little spot of clover had been their joint; their own little corner of the world.

And on that spot of clover that had somehow made it through the years was where Gabriel stood late Saturday night, waiting. He wasn't afraid that she might not come, that never entered his mind. He was concerned, however, about Sara's warning. He doubted she would have cautioned him without reason, but this was Coppler's Grove, he could not conceive a possible threat. The thought of the dark shadow which had silently followed him from the large colonial to the smaller bungalow down the street and then, well after midnight, to the shabby baseball diamond. Both Gabriel and his shadow were waiting. Gabriel's wait was shorter.

"Phil!" He said excitedly as the lovely girl came running up to him. This is what he'd dreamed of, what he'd fantasized about, for the past three years. The joy in her eyes, the smile on her face, the way she slipped her arms around his neck to hug him, it was perfect. Then it got better.

Without a word of explanation or warning, Phillis leaned forward and kissed him. But it wasn't her usual platonic pat on the cheek or forehead, it was a real kiss, bold and engaging and fully on the lips.

Though Gabriel had kissed girls in the past, it had never been anything like this. She tasted sweet and strong, like mulled wine; he felt like he was drunk. Her heartbeat pounded in his ears and her fingers, which played with the small cowlick of black hair on the nape of his neck, occupied his consciousness, her melodies haunted his mind's ear.

When she finally pulled away from him he was breathless and dumbfounded, he had so much he had wanted to tell her but it was all gone, lost in the gentle caress of her lips. All he could think to say was, "Hi Phil."

"Hi Gabriel," she said back, her smile broad and genuine and simply joyful.

"I'm glad you showed," he said, understating his true feelings masterfully.

She smiled at him, her dark brown eyes meeting his light brown ones, her hands playing with little wisps of his unruly hair. They stood there, absorbed by the mere presence of each other for a moment before she said, "Do you wanna kiss me again?"

"Yes," Gabriel said with an unquivering voice.

"Good," she said, leaning forward, their lips meeting again. But this time Gabriel was not surprised, so while he reveled in the moment, his mind couldn't help contemplating the implications. This time, Gabriel pulled away.

"What?" Phillis asked, too enchanted with him to be worried.

"This isn't right," he said. Those were the hardest three words to say he could ever remember escaping his lips.

"I don't get it," Phillis stuttered. "Isn't this what you always wanted? Isn't this what should have happened a long time ago?"

Gabriel reached up and touched her perfect face. "It looks a lot like it," Gabriel said, wondering if he was killing all his dreams of a happily-ever-after with Phillis. "And it feels a lot like it, but you and I both know this is not right."

"This is the first right thing I've ever done," she insisted.

"What about Jim," Gabriel accused.

"He was not right," Phillis said with a passion. "He was very very wrong."

"Was, or is?"

Phillis didn't have anything to say to that, she just stood their her mouth opened. It hurt Gabriel to see her that way, almost as much as it hurt Phillis to be that way. He wanted, as much as she did, for those kisses to be pure, but they weren't, and they couldn't be until she went through a lot more pain.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said softly. "I love you, I really do . . ."

"I love you too," she insisted fervently.

"Then you understand," he said softly, his hand's brushing her cheeks as if to wipe away tears.

She nodded, "I am so frightened."

"I'll protect you," he promised her, "But you still have to end it, yourself."

"End what?" a voice boomed from the shadows behind them. Phillis recognized the voice immediately and coiled behind Gabriel, suddenly terrified, while Gabe, confused and startled, tried to stand bravely and fulfill his promise.

The man who had sent Gabriel away from the Avalla house the night before sauntered onto the base ball diamond. He was easily a head taller than Gabriel, with arms twice as thick, and cold, disturbing, blue eyes that looked at the young lovers with cruel hatred and barely controlled rage.

"What's this, Phil?" Jim demanded. "What you think you're doing?"

"Why are you here?" Phillis asked, still hiding behind Gabriel. She was clinging to his arm and, for some odd reason, that gave him unnatural courage.

"We're spending the holiday with your father, remember?" Jim said accusingly. "You so taken with this new guy you forgot I was coming back?"

"Jim no," she said, her voice was trembling.

"You think you could hide an affair in a town like this?"

"This isn't an affair," Gabriel said in as forceful a voice as he could muster.

"Right, I find my girl in the arms of her best friend in high school in the middle of the night and . . ."

"She's not your girl!" Gabriel said forcefully.

"So she's what, yours?" Jim said taking a forceful step forward.

"No," Phillis said, bravely stepping out from behind Gabriel and walking slowly and deliberately towards Jim. "I'm my own girl," she said, her voice trembling. "Jim, you've had me for far too long. You had my spirit and my dreams and my hope and my courage locked up in this cage of fear you created. Everything that was mine you took because you were afraid I'd realize what a bastard you were and leave you. Well right now I'm high on borrowed courage and so no matter what I lose, I'm leaving you. I want you the hell out of this town before sunrise."

Jim looked at her, his icy eyes held no anger, no fear, no sorrow, only violent disgust. "Bitch," he spat at her dryly, before slapping her with enough force to send her tumbling to her knees.

"Hey!" Gabriel said, making good on his promise to protect her despite his opponents larger size.

"You gonna stand up for this whore?" Jim asked.

"Yeah," Gabriel said defiantly. "I am."

"I could kill you."

"So," Gabriel asked. "This isn't the middle ages, might doesn't make right."

"I can't believe you want to defend this good for nothin' whore. Wha'd she do, promise you you'd be next?"

"Get out," Gabriel said, a rage of his own building up in his chest. He was certainly not beyond physical violence if he felt he was justified, and he had never felt more justified than at that moment.

"Leave her alone," Gabe said forcefully. "Go and don't you dare come back."

"You're threatening me?" Jim asked, laughing. "Do you know who I am?"

"The biggest jackass in New England?" Gabe guessed.

"You know what, to hell with you, both of you," Jim said, turning around angrily and storming away. Gabriel and Phillis watched for a moment before they turned and looked at each other. They were both a little shaken and a little surprised. It seemed too easy, too anti-climatic. Phillis walked back to where Gabriel was standing, her rock and fortress, and slipped her hand into his, resting her shoulder on his, like she had years ago during their first home coming.

"You're my rock," she said softly.

Gabriel accepted the complement silently, resting his head on hers and softly stroking her hair.

They stood there, in a perfect, heaven-like, peace for nearly a minute and then all hell broke lose.

"The hell you're breaking up with me, Bitch," Jim yelled, all his cool was lost as he ran towards them, a baseball bat in hand.

Gabriel and Phillis hardly had time to brace themselves for the attack, he had come out of nowhere, with no warning. They followed their instincts, turning and running away, never letting go of the other's hand. But they had forgotten the fence that stood behind them, protecting the spectators behind home plate from foul balls. The split second it took for them to realize that direction held no escape proved crucial, before they could turn and run another direction Jim was on them. Phillis didn't really see it happen, all she knew was that there was a hollow sounding thud right next to her and then a crash, as something hit the fence. She didn't realize he was no longer holding her hand until she turned her head and saw Gabriel lying in the dirt unmoving, blood gushing out of his right temple.

Phillis ran to him, totally forgetting about Jim and the threat he still posed. She picked up Gabriel's head, getting his blood all over herself in the process, and pushed her hands on his wound, foolishly trying to stop the blood.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Jim?!" she screeched at him.

"You will not leave me this way," he yelled back. "You ungrateful bitch, after everything I did . . ."

"You can treat me like shit, Jim," Phillis spat at him. "Really, who the hell cares, right? But you are going down for this." She was crying, but didn't notice. "Do you know who he is? His dad's the biggest lawyer in town, his grandfather's the goddamn preacher. You're not gonna charm your way outta this, you're gonna go down."

Jim glanced around, nervous, for the first time that night it occurred to him that his actions might have consequences. He was no longer in Poughkeepsie, where he was a local hero and he was no longer sure that Phillis would be to cowardly to tell anyone. He was no longer sure of anything, so to combat his uncertainty, he took control.

"We're going," he said, grabbing Phillis roughly by the arm and hauling her away from Gabriel, who was starting to show signs of regaining consciousness.

"No," Phil shrieked, struggling to stay on the ground with Gabe.

"You goddamn bitch!" Jim yelled, "You're gonna do whatever the hell I say."

"No she's not," a slurred voice said. With far more effort than seemed reasonable, he managed to find his way to his knees as Phil watched with renewed hope and Jim with renewed disgust.

"I can't believe it," Jim muttered.

"Le'her go," Gabe said, slightly more understandably. Blood was streaming down the side of his face and, while he had found his knees, he couldn't seem to find a center of balance steady enough to find his feet.

All of Jim's worse instincts, that part of him that needed to feel bigger and better than everyone around him, seemed to possess him. He let go of Phillis and took a dominating step towards the brave but helpless Gabriel with a wicked smile on his face.

* * *

Sara woke up with a start and almost fell out of the old directors chair she had dozed off in. She had had a dream of battle, of fighting men with muskets and red coats. She could still smell the blood soaked battle field and the slight fragrance of gunpowder. She sat bolt up, gasping for breath and praying the gore she had dreamt would quickly slip out of her mind.

"You've gotta go, Sara," Danny said in his soft and measured voice. He was standing in front of her, with the little green stars floating behind him. He had never looked more angelic, Sara thought.

"Go," she said, her voice still edgy from the dream, or memory. "Go where?"

"To save Gabriel," Danny said. "Those who would can't and those who could won't."

"Gabriel," Sara breathed. Suddenly, the Witchblade gave her a quick slide show of her friend. He was standing, waiting, then he and Phillis were kissing, passionately, and then he was standing off with the brute who was obviously Phillis's boyfriend, then he was lying on the ground bleeding from a horrific head wound and then there was a bright flash and the deafening sound of a gun shot. When her vision was over, Sara didn't notice if Danny was still standing around to give her advice, she didn't notice that she wasn't wearing any shoes, she didn't even notice that the Witchblade had activated. Sara, relying solely on instinct, jumped out of Gabriel's window and practically flew down the maple. She didn't know where she was running, she just knew she had to save Gabriel, and she knew that if she stopped running she would lose time, and, consequently, Gabriel. Every second was one of Gabriel's heartbeats and she just couldn't run fast enough.

Before she noticed which direction she was running she had found her way across town onto the school yard, but once she was there her instinct faltered. Jogging to a stop she looked around at the tennis courts, the well kept baseball diamond, the football field with a track spread around it.

"Gabriel!" Sara yelled desperately because, without the Witchblade's guidance, she didn't have a clue where to look.

"It was meant to be, Sara," Ian's dark, rich voice said.

Sara turned around with a start, "Damn you Nottingham!" she said, "Where is Gabriel?"

"I have not laid a finger on him, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm asking where he is," Sara said, her voice was starting to tremble. "If you know, you had better tell me or else I swear on all things holy . . ."

"I won't lie to you Sara, he is in mortal danger," Ian said calmly.

"Where is he?!"

"Have you considered that, maybe, this is the way the Witchblade is removing him from your life?"

"You are an evil psycho bastard," Sara yelled out of sheer frustration.

Her irrational outburst seemed to slip off of Ian like oil off of water, possibly because he saw it for what it was, the words of a frightened, desperate woman. Or perhaps he didn't react because he knew it was true. "He was a barrier, keeping you from your destiny."

"He is a person!"

"I am truly sorry for the pain his death will cause you but it is for the best."

"No," Sara said, her fear and anxiety building into rage. "If he dies you will die. The second his heart stops I with take this Witchblade and stab it into your heart, the moment he stops breathing I will cut out your lungs . . ."

"My death is inconsequential."

"And then I'll go after your master, so help me god."

Ian looked at her. She was deadly serious. He started tasting the same bitter hollow fear for one he loved that Sara had been tasting all day. My purpose, he thought, Is first to protect my master and second to do his will. Sara was telling the truth, he knew, even if that man with the baseball bat was the one to kill Gabriel, she would blame him because he didn't stop it. Ian made a very difficult decision.

"They are on a baseball field," He said softly. "Two hundred yards north-northeast."

Sara stared at him, surprised by his cooperation and slightly confused by his directions. Ian bowed his head, stepped aside and pointed the correct direction. Sara didn't say thank you, she didn't have time, she just turned and ran.

To be continued . . .