Gaele 23: Emperor's New Clothes

"Why didn't you call?"
"Because I didn't, Don, that's why."
"Everyone was getting very concerned, Gaele."
"There wasn't any need to worry, I was in capable hands."
Don looked past her at Raph, who was standing by the hospital's koi pond, watching the fish. "It would have helped if one of us had known that."
"One of us did. Two of us, actually."
"I can't believe you would run off for nearly 24 hours without giving any notice. It was very inconsiderate of your mother's feelings."
"Are you sure it wasn't just my mother's feelings?" She exchanged a look with Raphael and was about to add, "It's not like I DID anything," but decided it would be more interesting to see what sort of conclusions Don would draw, wondering what could possibly have gone on between her and Raph... she liked the idea of playing the Bad Girl for a while.
Don proved disappointing, since he had gone on to another subject and had wandered away from her, talking to Raphael, as though they'd forgotten she was there.
Okay... be that way...
"Gaele, where are you going?"
"As if that's any of your business," she replied without looking back, as she walked toward the stairs.
"Let's not make a scene, shall we?" His quiet voice came from close behind.
"Who's making a scene? I'm not making a scene, or were you just talking to yourself?"
"Gaele..."
She turned to look at him. "Do you MIND? What are you, hall monitor now? KGB? What?"
"Please don't go running off again."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"STOP it."
"NO!"
Her voice echoed down the stairwell, as she turned to give him a roundhouse punch in the face, but he caught her fist in one hand. Her anger exploded, and she stomped hard on his instep, and instantly followed it up with a savage punch from her other fist, that landed solidly in his face. Taken by surprise, he let go of her, and she shoved him as hard as she could, as he held his face with one hand. He reached to grab the railing to keep his balance, but missed, and went backward over the side. She watched in horror as he fell straight down the center of  the three story stairwell, and crashed into the large ficus tree that was growing in a planter on the ground floor. The tree broke with a loud crack and Don disappeared in a shower of foliage.
Through a haze of shock, Gaele swam down the stairs to find Don lying on his back, covered in leaves, staring wide-eyed at the skylight overhead.
Omigawd, I've killed him.
Someone grabbed her by the shoulders, and gave her a rough shake. Raphael's wide-eyed face came into view as he shouted at her. She didn't understand what he was saying.
People were looking down the stairwell.
"I'm so sorry- I didn't mean-"
He let go of her, so that she nearly lost her balance. She watched him kneel by Don, who blinked and looked up at Raphael.
"You okay, bro?" Raphael put a hand behind Don's neck to support him.
"Depends," Don managed to reply. "What's with all these... leaves?"
Raphael looked up at the shattered trunk. "Uh, I think you were attacked by a tree. But I think you won."
"I... didn't know trees attacked people... thought they were... you know... pacifists..."
"Heh, they do if you drop on 'em, I guess. Can you move?"
"Trying to..." Don's eyes squeezed shut as he slowly bent his knees, and pulled his arms in across his chest. "I think I'm... still whole," he said, then winced when he flexed his hand.
"Lemme see," Raphael said, as he gently took hold of Don's forearm.
"Ouch! Easy..."
"Hmm. That's swelling up pretty fast, Don... isn't that an old break, there?"
Gaele couldn't watch any more. She made her way to the nearest sitting area and slumped sideways onto the nearest couch, laying her head in her arms on the backrest.

She felt someone sit next to her. "Gaele?" Her mother's voice. A hand pulled her hair back from her face and smoothed  it down.
"I don't feel so good," she said. Her head felt too heavy to lift.
"Then it's time to get some rest," Rahab said.
Gaele looked up, then, and saw her mother's concerned face, and behind her, a couple of women in light blue uniforms with a wheelchair.
"Oh gee. They've come to lock me up, huh?" she said dully.
"It's not what you think, sweetheart. It's only so that you can get something to eat and catch up on your sleep.  They set up a quiet room for you to use for a while. Come on, let them help you."
Gaele didn't resist when unfamiliar hands grasped her under the arms and helped her stand long enough to lower her into the wheelchair. The room spun, and she saw glimpses of workers sweeping up leaves and there was no Don there any more.
"Where's Don," she mumbled, as they wheeled her down the hall.
"He's going to be all right."
"He hates me."
"No, he doesn't."
"He hates me..."
"No. He's more concerned about you than anything, right now."
"I pushed him down the stairs!"
"He knows you didn't mean it."
Gaele tried to say something else as they helped her change into pajamas, but the words crowded together in her throat, and her head throbbed painfully. She folded up on the bed after they led her over to it.
Rahab sat next to her, as one of the nurses rubbed Gaele's arm with a cotton ball. "This will hurt just for a second," she said.
Gaele didn't even move when she felt the sting of steel and disinfectant pierce her skin. I hate needles, she thought as she felt slow waves of relaxation wash over her.

"How much sleep have you actually had in the last 48 hours?"
"A few on the plane, maybe 3 or 4, but at Raph's, none at all."
Rahab was silent.
"It's not what you think, Mom."
"How do you know what I think?"
"Well, I know people think Raph is some kind of-"
"What does that have to do with anything? It's really none of MY business."
Gaele rested her elbows on her knees and rubbed her eyes. "How is Daddy doing?"
"He's resting."
"Does he know what happened?"
Rahab sighed gustily. "Yes, he does. He knows that you went downtown and hung out with Raphael at some club all night, and that you and Don were having a discussion and then he lost his balance and fell down the stairs. That is just the way I presented it to him, and all he did was lie there and... laugh."
In the silence that followed, Gaele looked at her mother, who eventually looked back at her. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, then Gaele burst into laughter. She continued to snigger at her mother's puzzled expression.
"I'm glad you both find this all so amusing."
"Well Mom," Gaele said when she recovered. "If you really think about it... it IS pretty funny. I mean, it's like one of those goofy slapstick chain reactive acts you see in a Three Stooges movie."
"Hmph, I never watch those silly things."
"Maybe you should. I think they imitate life."
"In the life of an Angelo, maybe."
"Ha! Mom, sometimes you can be SUCH a riot."
"Hmm. Maybe you should get some more sleep, till that medication wears off."

Don was sitting crosslegged on the bed wearing a hospital bathrobe, when she came into his room, the next morning.
"Hi," she said tentatively, noticing his right arm was wrapped in a flexible bandage.
"Hi, I've been expecting you," he said with a neutral expression. "How are you feeling?"
"Uh, okay," she said, looking at her fingernails. "I was going to ask the same of you."
"Well, to be honest, there's not a single area on my body that doesn't hurt. But I'll live. Nothing is broken."
"I'm, uhm, glad to hear that. Seems like you have bad luck with your arm or something, huh?"
In the uncomfortable silence that followed, she felt the rise of pain, and her eyes filled with tears. She wanted to turn and leave, and go hide somewhere. Like in a laundry basket. Like Riahna does.
"I thought it would be a good idea if we had a talk," Don said at length.
"What kind of talk?"
"An honest one. I would like to know what the truth is behind your behavior lately."
"Heh, look where we are, Don," Gaele said, waving a hand around the room.
Don shook his head. "Mm. Besides the obvious stress factors here, concerning your father and sister... there is some... undercurrent..."
Gaele decided to take the direct approach, since it looked like that was what Don was driving at. "You mean us."
He looked thoughtful a moment. "So it has to do with us?"
"What did YOU mean?"
"What is wrong with you?"
Gaele took a breath, then let it out. "Why is it always about ME, Don? As if you never do anything wrong--"
"No... no," Don said, holding his good hand up. "I want us to talk, not get into another fight."
"Then stop trying to control me."
Don blinked. "Control you? Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"Yes, that is EXACTLY what I think it is." Her chest was beginning to feel tight with emotion again, and she squirmed to relieve it. "Could you just stop trying to be right all the time?"
"I'm trying to do what's best-"
"For whom, me or YOU?"
He stared at her a moment, then looked off at nothing in particular.
"I'd rather lead a short, happy life, than a trapped one, Don."
He was looking at her again. He opened his mouth as though to say something, but then he didn't speak.
She took another breath, and then let it out again, to steady herself. "I don't want to kick you in the face with this, Don. But... if you really want to know my true feelings,  I will tell them."
"By all means, go ahead."
"All right," she said, sitting carefully in the easy chair facing his bed. "I feel as though... you are clinging to me, and you don't know what direction you want to go with me, because you don't have anyone, and you are still terrified of getting into any intimate, romantic relationships because of what your wife did to you-"
As she spoke, the expression on his face seemed to disengage itself from any emotion.
"You really don't trust me either, do you Don," she said at length.
"I don't know," he finally said.
She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. "Why am I not surprised? You have built this huge, inpenetrable fortress around yourself, and you have wound the drawbridge up to keep the enemy out, and yet you aren't letting any of your friends inside, either. I can't possibly know what you went through, really. I hope I never find out. But I think that whoever did this to you has won. Maybe that's all they were after. But... what do I know, I'm just an ignorant little girl, aren't I?"
Don finally found his voice. "Is this necessary, Gaele? I don't understand what this has to do with-"
"I'm not finished," Gaele said, interrupting him.
He drew himself up, his mouth tense. "Then finish."
"You are being overprotective of me, because you feel the whole world is after you, and that feeling extends to me, because I'm the closest to you, whatever that means. Either you feel that whoever is after you will eventually come after me, or that I myself will some day will come after you, because it was someone you loved the most who caused the most damage-"
"That's enough."
Gaele set her jaw. "I'm not finished. Thing is, Don, you really haven't resolved this issue, you simply have disguised it into something else. What, am I like the little kid who was the only one who saw that the Emperor had on NO clothes? You know that story, don't you?" When he didn't reply, she went on. "What I feel, Don, is that I would rather go out and have a life of freedom and some remote chance of happiness and possibly face the risk of assassination, than completely give up any hope of an intimate relationship-"
"That is ENOUGH," Don snapped at her.
By now Gaele's pulse was thrumming in her ears, but she stayed outwardly calm. "All right, I've said my piece, and that's all I'm going to say."
Don got up and walked into the bathroom, and she saw his good hand tremble as he reached for the door to close it behind him.

Gaele 24

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