Gravity Read Online Free PDF Page B

shopkeeper
smiles and opens the case to retrieve it.
    "It's an M1
helmet; it wa s standard to the
American military for forty years. This one is from 1941 to '42.
Check the shell liner," the shopkeeper smiles. I like his voice and
I want him to keep talking. The register of his voice is just as
pleasing as the sight of him.
    Alex flips the
helmet over. I see on the fiber liner a faint double “A”. Alex
places it on his head. The boy's face lights up.
    “I don't hear a
thing. It’s finally quiet.”
    "It should do the
trick,” the shopkeeper smiles.
    "How much?"
Alex di gs into his
pockets.
    "You've already
paid." The man hands him a photo. "Here's your receipt."
    "Oh," Alex
stares at the photo.
    It isn't a
receipt. I catches a glimpse of the photo—a girl’s face. Alex seems
content with his transaction and leaves.
    The m an behind counter looks at me ,
forcing my unworthy eyes to shy away. My scalp begins to prickle as
he approaches. I feel weak, like crashing after a sugar rush, but
I'm not sleepy. My heart is pumping a little faster and a strange
sensation in the front of my body makes me want to get closer to the shopkeeper. I never wanted to obey a
bodily craving before—it's a terrible thing, but this is different.
This is the opposite of what I usually feel with the force between
myself and another. The man has an overwhelming gravity. His
beautiful eyes flicker from one color to
the next like a kaleidoscope, luring me closer.
    "I'm sorry,
Gabriel." The man's voice is sincere, but there is an
attracti ve
quality in
i t
t hat matches the personal
gravity that tugs my body.
    How does he know my name?
    Th e invisible tension
subsides. I know this feeling is like my own lure, but how is it
suddenly diminished? If he's like me, how come the gravity stops
without him moving away?
    "I'm Red,” he
holds out his hand for a shake. I'm afraid.
    "You don't have
to be frightened." His voice
still has a character that makes me want Red to keep talking. My
eyes switch from the shopkeeper's lips to his eyes. It’s hard not
to stare at such a handsome face and such other-worldly eyes. I
look at his out stretched hand and shake it.
    The touch is
not at all what I was expecting. It feels like... nothing—a first
for me and a relief. I want to ask how he made the sensation go
away and how I don’t feel anything at all now.
    “You remind me of
me.” Red smiles and his eyes settle on a sapphire color.
    How can that
be? I know I'm ugly inside and dirty outside. My actions are
perverted and so is my history as a human being. I can’t even keep
from losing a friend. I'm nothing. My mouth closes and tightens at
my own self-loathing. Red is mistaken.
    “ No need to
beat yourself up. You are just the opposite what you think you
are.” Red’s eyes blink and this simple, yet natural bodily habit is
beyond beautiful. “Like you, I used to think I can only be one way.
But for you, Gabriel, you can be many ways. Take a garden for
instance, in each season, it changes with the climate; cold and
dormant; warm and blossomed.
    My mouth parts, but not a word comes out. No
one has ever said something so kind and something so beautiful
about him in all my life. I can’t be a garden. I'm more of a weed
in a pretty garden.
    “You know better
about weeds, Gabriel." Red's brow lifts.
    He's right. How
does he know that? Weeds are not what they seem, yet people are
always quick to pull them out of their garden. I hate
that.
    "I know you’ve
adapted—survived,” Red’s forehead creases, “without any help. For
that I’m deeply sorry. But I can see that you're strong, brave and
beautiful.”
    Before I can oppose, Red turns away to climb
a step stool.
    "I have something for you." He reaches for a
small wooden box on top of a book case full of strange masks. One
of them is black with a strange grin that looks like the reflection
I ran from. He places the box on the counter. Black birds with
ornate leaves and vines carved all around it. Red