Gabriel's Revenge (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: J.T. Lewis
fitful sleep.
***
The inviting room was now fully bright and warm I noticed, transformed fully back to the room of the past. I had still had to walk through the hallway to get there however, the meaning of that change still elusive.
Sitting down in the chair, I immediately grabbed the cup from the table, letting the hot black liquid slide smoothly down my throat. Looking over to the chess game in process, I saw where my opponent had made a move, so far so good. Seemingly, he had yet to see my strategy, his current move being one of two I had hoped he would make.
With a smile on my face, I quickly decided on the next move and slid the King’s Bishop into its new location. Leaning back into the chair once more, I was more convinced daily that my opponent in these mysterious games was my grandfather. How or why this may be the case was above my pay grade intellectually, but it gave me a warm feeling knowing he might be here with me.
As I continued to relax in the chair, I held the coffee below my nose so that the heavenly scent could be easily inhaled between sips. My vision was affixed to the fire as I watched the wisps of smoke happily curl off the ends of the yellow flames. My eyes suddenly felt very heavy; so I gave in and let them close slowly, the warmth of the room and the smell of the coffee enveloping me like a cozy blanket.
When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by a comforting blackness, but more. I felt like I was in a loving embrace, like there were arms wrapped around my shoulders. A whisper of a voice seemed to be flitting around in my head, maybe more like a buzzing or humming than a whisper. It was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t understand. I concentrated harder on the message, but it didn’t seem to ease my frustration.
“What are you trying to tell me?” I said in desperation, wanting more than anything to hear the words. Before I had time to think about it, the buzzing was replaced with a kind of whistle, an eerie whistle, someone whistling a song. After a few moments, I realized it was the song that Frank’s murderer had been whistling when he had left Frank laying dead on the ground.
I listened intently to the notes, they seemed familiar to me, but something was off, something was not right with the tune. What was it?
It was banging at my head; every note seemed to pound in my brain. What was it, a different key, or the cadence?
That’s it! The timing was slower than normal, but the name of the song finally popped into my head. I was so excited at figuring out the eerie music, that I stood up as the name escaped my lips in a loud voice.
“Onward Christian Soldiers!”
Chapter 6
August 20, 1998
Opening my eyes, I realized that that I had just loudly announced the song title to the bus passengers, after shooting straight up out of my seat before hand. Everybody on the bus was staring at me like I was loco, including the bus driver, whose smile had disappeared for the first time.
I quickly settled back down in my seat, pulling the hat lower over my eyes and grabbing my journal to make some notes of my vision.
Having come up with the name of the song, I wrote it down. I could not fathom what, if anything, the song would have to do with the murder. Frustrated, I spent the next twenty minutes trying to eke out a solution to the puzzle with no success.
I took out the half-eaten burrito and slowly munched on the cold food as I continued to read through my journal. The very old leather-bound book was originally my grandfather’s. He had used it on his expedition to Egypt after WWI. The time spent in the arid country was used to help him forget the atrocities of the war he had just survived.
I had read and re-read his notes and thoughts over the last few months, and I had gained additional insights into the man that had been my hero as I was growing up. Also named Gabriel, he had been much in my thoughts of late, a fact that I wasn’t sure I could attribute
***
The inviting room was now fully bright and warm I noticed, transformed fully back to the room of the past. I had still had to walk through the hallway to get there however, the meaning of that change still elusive.
Sitting down in the chair, I immediately grabbed the cup from the table, letting the hot black liquid slide smoothly down my throat. Looking over to the chess game in process, I saw where my opponent had made a move, so far so good. Seemingly, he had yet to see my strategy, his current move being one of two I had hoped he would make.
With a smile on my face, I quickly decided on the next move and slid the King’s Bishop into its new location. Leaning back into the chair once more, I was more convinced daily that my opponent in these mysterious games was my grandfather. How or why this may be the case was above my pay grade intellectually, but it gave me a warm feeling knowing he might be here with me.
As I continued to relax in the chair, I held the coffee below my nose so that the heavenly scent could be easily inhaled between sips. My vision was affixed to the fire as I watched the wisps of smoke happily curl off the ends of the yellow flames. My eyes suddenly felt very heavy; so I gave in and let them close slowly, the warmth of the room and the smell of the coffee enveloping me like a cozy blanket.
When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by a comforting blackness, but more. I felt like I was in a loving embrace, like there were arms wrapped around my shoulders. A whisper of a voice seemed to be flitting around in my head, maybe more like a buzzing or humming than a whisper. It was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t understand. I concentrated harder on the message, but it didn’t seem to ease my frustration.
“What are you trying to tell me?” I said in desperation, wanting more than anything to hear the words. Before I had time to think about it, the buzzing was replaced with a kind of whistle, an eerie whistle, someone whistling a song. After a few moments, I realized it was the song that Frank’s murderer had been whistling when he had left Frank laying dead on the ground.
I listened intently to the notes, they seemed familiar to me, but something was off, something was not right with the tune. What was it?
It was banging at my head; every note seemed to pound in my brain. What was it, a different key, or the cadence?
That’s it! The timing was slower than normal, but the name of the song finally popped into my head. I was so excited at figuring out the eerie music, that I stood up as the name escaped my lips in a loud voice.
“Onward Christian Soldiers!”
Chapter 6
August 20, 1998
Opening my eyes, I realized that that I had just loudly announced the song title to the bus passengers, after shooting straight up out of my seat before hand. Everybody on the bus was staring at me like I was loco, including the bus driver, whose smile had disappeared for the first time.
I quickly settled back down in my seat, pulling the hat lower over my eyes and grabbing my journal to make some notes of my vision.
Having come up with the name of the song, I wrote it down. I could not fathom what, if anything, the song would have to do with the murder. Frustrated, I spent the next twenty minutes trying to eke out a solution to the puzzle with no success.
I took out the half-eaten burrito and slowly munched on the cold food as I continued to read through my journal. The very old leather-bound book was originally my grandfather’s. He had used it on his expedition to Egypt after WWI. The time spent in the arid country was used to help him forget the atrocities of the war he had just survived.
I had read and re-read his notes and thoughts over the last few months, and I had gained additional insights into the man that had been my hero as I was growing up. Also named Gabriel, he had been much in my thoughts of late, a fact that I wasn’t sure I could attribute
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