Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,356

Gabriel had seen every aspect of the Franciscans’ work with the poor, he’d endeavored to change everything and agreed to finance the changes himself. Then he paid a few visits to some wealthy Florentine families, who he knew through his academic life, asking them to support the Franciscans as they helped the poor of Florence. Their donations would ensure a steady stream of revenue for years to come.

As he stood in front of the Dante memorial, he was struck by a sudden kinship with his favorite poet. Dante had been exiled from Florence. Even though the city eventually forgave him and allowed a memorial to be placed in his honor in the Basilica, he was buried in Ravenna. In a strange twist of fate, Gabriel now knew what it was like to be exiled from his job, his city, and his home, for Julianne’s arms would always be his home. Even though he was forced into exile.

The memorials around him reminded him of his own mortality. If he was lucky, he’d have a long life, but many people such as Grace had their lives cut short. He could be hit by a car, or contract cancer, or have a heart attack. Suddenly, his time on earth seemed very short and very precious.

Since he’d left Assisi, he’d tried to assuage his guilt and loneliness by doing good works. Volunteering with the Franciscans was certainly a step in that direction. But what about making amends with Paulina? It was far too late to make his peace with Grace, or Maia, or his biological mother and father.

What about Julianne?

Gabriel stared at the figure of a despairing woman who leaned on what looked like Dante’s casket. He’d accepted his exile, but that didn’t mean he’d refrained from writing letter after letter to her, letters that were never sent.

* * *

Cemeteries had a stillness all their own. Even cemeteries located in busy urban centers possessed this stillness—an unearthly quiet that clings to the air.

Walking through the cemetery, Gabriel couldn’t pretend that he was strolling in a park. The sparse trees that peppered the landscape were not teeming with singing birds. The grass, though green and very well kept, was not alive with squirrels or the occasional urban rabbit, playing with his brothers or looking for food.

He saw the stone angels in the distance, their twin forms standing like tall sentries among the other monuments. They were made of marble, not granite, their skin white and pale and perfect. The angels faced away from him, their wings spread wide. It was easier for him to stand behind the monument. He couldn’t see the name etched in stone. He could stay there forever, a few feet away, and never approach. But that would be cowardly.

He inhaled deeply, his sapphire eyes shut tightly, as he said a silent prayer. Then he walked a half circuit around the monument, stopping in front of the marker.

He removed a pristine handkerchief from his trouser pocket. An onlooker might have guessed that he had need of it for sweat or tears, but he didn’t. He leaned forward and with a gentle hand swept the white linen over the black stone. The dirt came away easily. He would need to tend the rose bushes that had begun to encroach upon the letters. He made a mental note to hire a gardener.

He placed flowers in front of the stone, his mouth moving as if he were whispering. But he wasn’t. The grave, of course, was empty.

A tear or two clouded his vision, followed by their brothers, and soon his face was wet with their rain. He didn’t bother to wipe them away as he lifted his face to gaze upon the angels, the souls of silent, marble compassion.

He asked for forgiveness. He expressed his guilt, a guilt he knew would ache for the rest of his life. He didn’t ask for his burden to be removed, for it seemed to him to be part of the consequences of his actions. Or rather, the consequences of what he failed to do for a mother and their child.

He reached into his pocket to retrieve his cell phone and dialed a number from the iPhone’s memory.

“Hello?”

“Paulina. I need to see you.”

Chapter 38

Julia’s father insisted on attending her graduation and refused to allow Paul to move her to Cambridge alone. Tom paid the security deposit and rent on her summer sublet. And it was Tom who flew to Toronto so he could watch his only daughter graduate with