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Brood of a New Age

29.

Two nights later, everyone was still so distracted by the two new gargoyles that it was easy for Nashville to sneak out of the castle. The human Luca De Santis had moved out of his hotel and was now occupying one of the guest rooms in the castle. Elisa had screened him. He was really a detective of the criminal police from Naples- Italy. In other words, her colleague. How strange coincidences could sometimes be. The first human friend the clan had made in this millennium was a detective. And on the other side of the world, two other gargoyles were experiencing a similar fate.

But it wasn't just Dante who was strange. How they both woke up! Almost silently! Even Goliath came jumping from the highest pinnacle to see what was wrong with the two European gargoyles or if they were sick. Why they had to roar and shriek and hiss when there was no one to scare to death, Dante had asked, as if it had often happened that they had to scare people in front of their father's house. Grace had immediately pointed out that they were still used to waking up quietly from their hotel terrace and that they had previously practiced waking up quietly in Italy.

Throughout the previous night, the adults had been trying to get to know each other, which had led to more verbal blunders mostly emanating from Dante. It was VERY awkward but also often entertaining, and yet Nashville had kept his distance for most of the last evening and had rappelled away from the others quite early. Just like today. He didn't want to give the impression that he was any more available now than he had been before or his disappearance every other night would certainly not have gone unnoticed for long. It wasn't that he didn't find the two new gargoyles interesting. Grace was beautiful and smelled good and Dante was in his own way sometimes unsettling, then again entertaining simply because he knew SO little about his own kind and let that show right away. You could tell he was just out of his element among other gargoyles. Whatever his element was. But being able to meet Graziella was simply more important to Nashville. He wasn't even sure if this would be different if the two European gargoyles had brought a hatchling along. Should the adults come to an arrangement among themselves. After all, that's what they usually did.

Still, he thought about the newcomers while he waited for Graziella. Grace and Dante were both taller than his father, had no wing bars but somehow more primeval looking wing claws. Like Demona, they had elbows and knee spurs and tail tips that were shaped like arrowheads. Both had brow ridges that merged into their horns, which were not long and pointed like Brooklyns or Katanas but grew so broad and stubby above their temples that their hair often hid them. In addition to the two tiny horns they both had on their noses and their almost antagonistic body and hair coloring, Nashville found it not surprising at all that they had both thought of themselves as biological siblings for 40 years ( ignoring Dante's beak). Even less surprising when they had been raised by a human. They were somehow ... even if Dante was brutal and unbridled ... like children. Because they didn't know anything about the nature, the characteristics and psychological essence of Gargoyles. Certainly nothing about their bodies, that was very obvious the day before yesterday.

That's why yesterday night and this night, after everyone had woken up, there had been history and fairy tale lessons. Grace, Luca and even Dante had hung on Hudson's and Goliath's lips when they had told about the Middle Ages and the clan back then. They were equally interested in Katana's adolescent memories of the Ishimura clan. Enthusiasm and sadness had alternated by the minute with Grace, but even with Luca and Dante, when it had been about good and bad times, about the rise and fall of the old clan. Where the human and Grace had huddled closer in anguish, comforting each other over centuries-old gravel after the Wywern massacre, Dante had growled and rubbed his wrists as if he was missing a piece of his body without his knives, which Brooklyn had taken from him. Until Grace had taken his hand so he could make it through to other episodes in the story. In general, frustration and resentment seemed to rise quickly in the gray scarred gargoyle even if, after table talk, he didn't want to go on about the ordeals he had experienced under this Giuliano (How strange it was that he referred to this guy as his cousin.)

The episodes involving Elisa's, Goliath's, Bronx's and Angela's trip around the world had the three Italians back in with open mouths and beaks, respectively. The guys had asked questions about the other gargoyles or the children of Oberon, and yet by the end of the night everyone had had the impression these stories had been received worse by the gargoyles than those with the mutants or robots. Grace had crossed herself several times, probably because of the magic, and Dante, even if he didn't take his eyes off Goliath during the narration, had unconsciously kept kneading his cross, which was hanging on a strap close to his neck and twisting it between his claws. But, like Luca, he could at least bring himself to ask questions. Like how Elisa spent six months with only one set of clothes. If the Weird sisters were available for dates because they were pretty badass. Why everyone hadn't seen IMMEDIATELY (including Angela) that Angela was Goliath's daughter, and if that eye disease was contagious.

Nashville laughed at this memory.

Dante really had the foot-in-mouth disease. But he was kind of ... extremely cool. Nashville wasn't a complete idiot and knew he definitely couldn't let on in front of the adults because they all thought Dante was pretty terrible but he considered a gargoyle bad boy as cool. Not a role model, no. But he was a kid and found people who hit without giving a shit about the consequences totally fascinating. Taking on six Quarrymen- wow. That was major league. That's why Dante (and maybe Grace) would have to prove themselves tomorrow night in training with the other clan members. Not prove that they could fight. But prove that they could hold back. Whether the gray one could be integrated into the clan was yet to be seen.

Nashville had thought about telling Graziella a little more about his relatives tonight. Everything that sounded untypical of humans, he had trimmed away in the stories. He also considered telling about the two Italian distant relatives who were currently visiting (and might stay) but he was afraid Graziella would ask him questions he couldn't yet answer. One could still tell she was homesick. Tonight, after his family stories, she spoke almost only of her grandmother.

" - hunted almost all game from the mountains during the war because there was no other food. Even swallows' nests were plundered by my grandmother and the other children until almost all the swallows were gone. Fortunately, the war was then over. It would have been bad if swallows had died out," she said, and again the package of cookies was pushed through the hole in the tube from below so that Nashville could take another one and push the package back.

By now Graziella seemed to have accepted that he didn't want to show himself in front of her and that he would be angry with her if she turned on the flashlight in her tube again. They had sorted that out right at the beginning of the evening. Nashville chewed on the chocolate chip cookie (not as good as Broadway's but he was a kid and candy was candy) and thought about what Graziella had told him.

He had never eaten a swallow before. He wondered what they tasted like. Swallows only flew during the day. Maybe he should keep an eye out for such nests.

"Why woud id hav been bad if all te swallws had died oud in Italy?" he asked, chewing. And Graziella answered with her mouth full and sounding cute.

"Becaus then I wouldn'd hav been able to wadch swallows flying from my window in Limatola. ... They fly so beautifully. They are - I learned the word only recently in English - they are aerial acrobats. I always imagined flying like them."

Nashville rolled onto his side in his tube and scratched circles in the concrete with his index finger the way other children doodled in their schoolbooks, lost in thought.

"Would you like to fly, Graziella? Like this ... if you had wings?"

"I would LOVE to! It must be SO nice to fly. Whenever I watched the swallows for too long, my Nonna would scold me and tell me not to be a swallow anymore. But that's freedom. Don't you feel the same way? Don't you want to ... well ... haven't you ever thought about escaping everything that's stressing you out? To grow wings, jump off the nearest rooftop and soar high into the air."

Nashville chuckled at the absurdity of her words. He really was smarter than her at that point. And that was kind of sad.

"That would be great. But even with wings. We can't fly away from our problems, Graziella."

"... Yeah. Probably not."

"And if you grew wings, you wouldn't be human anymore. And the humans would hunt you because you're not human anymore. Just like they hunt the gargoyles."

"..."

"Graziella?

"...yes, Nashville."

"I'm sorry I mentioned gargoyles again. That was stupid. I know you're scared of them."

"I've been thinking about your story for the last two days. I'm not sure if all of it was true. But I've been thinking about it... And I think..."

"Yes?"

"I think those Quarrymen are pretty unfair. And mean."

Nashville sat up and looked wide-eyed at the hole between the tubes.

"Yeah? You really think so?"

"Yes. If gargoyles can talk, then people should try talking to them more. And listen to them. Instead of accusing them of things they make up. That's what you said. The stealing children and eating people stuff is made up."

"Yes! Yes, it's all bogus!" confirmed Nashville enthusiastically, his tail propelling back and forth in happiness, making him tip sideways several times as he crawled toward the hole with the iron steps that connected their tubes.

"If you ever see a gargoyle, I'm TOTALLY sure no matter which one it is that he would be happy if you talked to him. It's SO awful when people are always screaming and running away even though you want to protect them, and any human that doesn't do that is like a gift."

Graziella laughed.

"What?"

"You talk like you're a gargoyle."

"And if I were?" whispered Nash excitedly, and already had his hand on the first step to her tube, when his alarm went off again. Now of all times! he thought.

"Oh. You have to go," Graziella said, sounding visibly sad. Nash was sad too.

"Yes, I have to go. But we'll meet again Friday night? In two days?

"Sure, absolutely. And then ... uhh I'll bring a friend of mine then."

"A friend?"

"My friend."

"Oh." THAT was another low blow for Nashville at the end. And he didn't know exactly why. Sure Graziella had told him about the boy. The one kid who wasn't QUITE as bad as the other kids of her "non-aunts." But, that he was already a friend? Her friend! I human friend. With whom she definitely did things she would never do with him. Like sit in the sun. Or ... give him a kiss. Nashville didn't even know why but somehow his heart ached at the thought. On the other hand. If Graziella thought this boy was okay, then maybe he had a chance to make a boy his friend. Briefly, he wondered if he would rather have a male buddy in addition to Graziella than have Graziella all to himself. And what if he would then feel like the fifth wheel on the wagon? Or, if this -

"Nash? You okay?"

"Yes. Yes, Graziella, if you think this boy is okay, then I trust you. But, uh... he's not allowed to bring a flashlight."

"He won't," Graziella said, and you could hear in her voice that she was grinning. "I trust you, too, or I wouldn't bring him. You'll like Grigio."

He took a deep breath, thinking that would rather not be the case. But he would try his best to be nice. Graziella had not and would not be "his." Sure, she had human friends by now. Boys who liked her. She was a little girl but she was sweet and tough and SO beautiful. He couldn't afford to waste the opportunity on a male friend because he was grumpy because she knew and liked another boy besides him. Careful not to make any telltale noises, he crawled up out of the tube. His voice echoed off the concrete walls and he tried to sound cheerful.

"Okay. Bring him along. I'm looking forward to it."

"Great. See you Friday then, Nash."

"See you Friday ... Swallow."

Her giggle at the last word - Graziella's new name - was the wind beneath his wings as he took off.

.

.

Because in the courtyard sometimes until late at night the employees of their dads loitered around, Graziella had so far always done well by going in and out through the front door. The code of the door was 1234, which even the little girl found more than stupid. But this time she heard right away that there were people in the house. She took off her shoes and silently hopped up the stairs. In every hallway, on every floor, lights were burning as usual but the door to the study was ajar. Tony's voice. Mister Glasses' voice. She slipped up one floor to her room, leaving the door open so she could hear if anyone approached (though it was unlikely anyone would check on her now, just before midnight). As she hurriedly changed, she listened to the conversation with half interest.

"- The chinks and hymies in our area back under control but not without casualties. Two of the guys are in hospital but instead four of Lu Mei and two shopkeepers. No testimonies that can be used against us."

"Well, that sounds good."

"The freight deliveries are also going better after we cleared the suppliers' uncertainties. That was the least of our problems. They always dance to the loudest tune. We are also in the process of finding the former members who tried to take refuge under the wings of the other families. It's hard to track some of them down and get to them. But we are about to teach them a lesson. Two are already in retirement."

Tony laughed.

"Excellent. A lesson for everyone else, too. Sometimes sheep need to be shorn to keep parasites from settling in. Without that useless undercoat, the rest will do better."

"Whereas it would be good to fill the ranks again. We have a couple of applicants who want to prove themselves. A few guys from Arthur Street, for example."

"Good, let them do a few months of courier duty and act as informers. Have their instructors let me know in October who they think of -"

Graziella closed her door again.

She didn't know why her father and glasses talked like bad guys from bad movies even though they were businessmen. It had to be a boy thing or an America thing. But it tired her. Now in top and sleep shorts she climbed into her bed. Even with the lamp turned off, the room was dimly lit by the light coming through the large windows. Tomorrow (no- today) her private teacher would come again and she had already fallen asleep in his class the day before yesterday. If that happened again, Maria could rat her out to Tony (An idiom she had picked up from both the employees in the yard and the wives' children) and that could be trouble. Nashville was her best friend and her best kept secret.

She pulled Grigio onto her belly. She played with his ears while she talked.

"He called me Swallow," she said with a grin.

The cuddly toy looked at her out of beady eyes and in her head he was talking to her. Outwardly, he was mute. But Graziella wasn't.

"I've never had a nickname before. Not one that was meant to be nice, at least. Do you like Swallow?"

The child waited for the imaginary answer.

"Yes- me too. Very much. Next time I'll take you to see him."

... "He'll think it's funny that you're my friend but I'm sure he'll be nice to me anyway. He would never make fun of me."

... "Nashville is the greatest boy in New York. Maybe even in all of America."

She saw Grigio's fluffy dark figure staring at her and her expression turned sad. "I know Nonna's not doing well right now. No, I'm not telling her about Nash. ... "Even if I leave out the night meetings thing, I don't want her to worry because I'm talking to a boy I've never seen before. But I can tell Viola about him. She'll get jealous. Because Nashville is way better and cooler than stupid Roberto."

... For a few minutes Graziella was silent and an onlooker might have thought she had fallen asleep, the stuffed bunny slumped on her belly. But the girl's thoughts had instead circled intensely around the strange but wonderful boy who, within a few meetings, had become more important to her than any boy in her school in Italy had ever been. Even there, not all boys had been stupid and mean like Roberto. Some had been nice, telling her she was pretty and even inviting her to birthday parties or to play. But Graziella's mom had always said a girl shouldn't spend so much time with boys, and for once her mom and Nonna had agreed. But that had been the boys in Italy. She had grown up with them and for Graziella they had been mostly just dumb boys. Even when they had told her she was cute and pretty, it had annoyed her. Because she wanted to be MORE than cute and pretty.

Her mama had sometimes said - but only when her Nonna hadn't been around - that a girl had nothing more precious than her looks. No matter how smart a woman was, no matter how nice or mean. If she looked good, her life would be easy and all men would "work". Graziella hadn't understood that then and didn't understand it now, but the phrase had stuck. But what had her mama known? She had been beautiful and yet she had never been taken to America by Tony. He hadn't "worked out." Still, all the adults and all the boys liked cute and pretty better. Girls who climbed trees and beat up mean boys like Roberto were not what anyone wanted. But Nashville was so far unlike any she'd ever known. Would he mind if she wasn't Graziella, the sweet little doll? Certainly not! Still, she wondered if it would bother her if Nashville said she was pretty. The wives had said she was too tan. And her hair would be too curly. Was she too thin or too fat by American standards? Would Nashville think she was pretty? But he had never seen her as she had never seen him.

"If he saw me ... would he think I'm pretty?" she asked, whispering and already a bit sleepy, to the rabbit lying next to her, who had almost fallen asleep himself. He was already not answering.

"Would he look at me if I were his girlfriend? If he finds me beautiful, I could be his girlfriend."

... again a few moments passed without a response from outside or inside her head. But she didn't need that either. Graziella was half-smiling in her sleep.

"The day after tomorrow I'll ask Nashville if he wants to be my boyfriend. Then he will look at me. And we can sit next to each other. And we can ... hold hands. And kiss.

Chink = English-language ethnic slur usually referring to a person of Chinese descent, but against people of East Asian, North Asian, Southeast Asian appearance.

Hymie = A name or a religious slur applied to Jews. Also used in the term Hymietown, a nickname for Brooklyn, New York.

Thanks for reading, Q.T.