Page 84 of Dreams of Falling
“Hey,” he said, squeezing my arm. “I have something to show you. Something your mama gave to me.”
My interest piqued, I followed him behind the counter and into the back room that he used as his office. Tall, metal shelves covered thewalls, stacked with a mishmash of boxes, all of them labeled with neat, bold lettering. I pointed to the one that readNapkins. “I’m assuming your wife does your organizing?”
He looked genuinely surprised. “How’d you know that?”
“Lucky guess.” I smiled. “So, what do you have to show me?”
From a bottom shelf, he pulled a rectangular wood box the size of an ankle-boot shoebox with brass corners and a matching brass lock and key in the middle. The dark cherrywood had been polished to a gleam, and a brightly colored image had been painted on top and around the sides. He cleared a bit of space on his cluttered desk and placed the box on top.
I stood in front of it, gently brushing my fingers over the paint. “Did Mama paint this?”
Gabriel nodded. “She did. It’s an old cigar humidor that used to belong to Ellis’s daddy. When my mama worked for the Altons, she’d always admired it, so when Mrs. Alton died, Mr. Alton gave it to her. Before my mama died, she gave it to me. I was starting my business, and she thought I’d need a safe place to hide extra cash. She’d lived through the Depression and didn’t believe in banks. Can’t say I blame her.”
I studied the small painting on the lid, noticing how it swooped and dipped along the sides and front as if it had been painted on a flat canvas. In the middle on the top was a painting of the store and Harborwalk, showing the river behind it with boats and gulls and even a tourist taking a photograph. An intricate time line that showed events in the business’s history and Gabriel’s story—his wedding, the birth of his children—were included, along with the introduction of new ice-cream flavors, complete with tiny ice-cream cones depicting each one.
“It’s a history of Gabriel’s Heavenly Ice Cream and Soda shop,” he said proudly. “I hadn’t used the box in a while, and Ivy found it here in the storeroom when she was working on that last mural and asked if I’d like her to make it pretty.”
He turned the brass key and opened the lid. Although it had been stripped of whatever mechanism there might have been inside to keep cigars moist, it still smelled of fresh wood and tobacco.
“It’s empty,” I said, strangely disappointed. As if inside I’d find out what my mother had been trying to tell me the day she fell.
“Sort of,” he said. “Look what she found while she was working on it.”
He reached inside the box and touched a spot on the bottom near the rear edge. We heard a small click. Pressing his thumbs against the sides, Gabriel lifted the bottom out of the box, displaying an extra inch beneath.
“It’s a false bottom,” he said, grinning like a kid. “Probably used to hide money or valuables. I’ve seen a few antique desks like it. It was empty when I got it, and I’m not sure if Mama even knew this was here.” He replaced the bottom, then closed the lid and locked it with the key. Then he picked up the box and handed it to me. “I want you to have it.”
“Oh, I couldn’t, Gabriel. She made it for you. It’s your store painted on the top.”
“I know. But I’m here every day, so I don’t need something to remember it by. I thought this would be a nice memento for you to bring back to your office in New York. Sort of a daily reminder of your mama and where you come from.” He grinned again. “And of your favorite ice-cream store.”
I thought of my deliberately empty cubicle at Wax & Crandall, how stark and devoid of anything personal it was, and I couldn’t remember why I kept it that way. I took the box and smiled at Gabriel. “Thank you. I promise to put it in a place of honor.”
He led me out to the front of the store, and I found myself staring at the mural again, at the corner where the bright orange flames licked at the white house. I turned to Gabriel. “Did Mama ever talk to you about the fire?”
“No, not that I remember. It was more local legend than anything else.”
“Local legend?” I straightened. “What did people say?”
He thought for a moment, his eyes not leaving my face. “Just stupid stuff.”
“I’d like to know, Gabriel. Anything, really.”
“You want to know what gossip said, or do you want to know the truth? Because nobody knows the truth except for Ceecee. She was the only one there old enough to remember. The gossip’s just a bunch of lies.”
“I want to hear all of it. Because for twenty-seven years I’ve heard absolutely nothing. Don’t you think I’m smart enough to separate the gossip from the truth?”
The bell rang over the front door as a young couple walked in, a baby with a pink sunbonnet strapped to the chest of the man. “I’ll be right with you,” Gabriel called out to them, then turned back to me.
“So, what does local legend say?” I pressed.
“Really, Larkin, I don’t think...”
“Tell me, Gabriel. Or I’ll ask someone else who will. But I’d rather it come from you.”
The man with the baby looked impatiently over at us, making Gabriel raise his finger. “One second.”
“Gabriel...”
