Gabriel Eris (Chapter 2)

CHAPTER THE SECOND!



When Gabriel awoke, he was rather worse for wear. His back ached, as it had never done before, and he was more hungry than ever for some real food. He quickly sprang up from his cot, despite the pain he felt, and headed back out into the street. One of these trees had to have fruit on it, and he was determined to find it.

He had his head all the way inside a young maple tree when the officer spotted him.

"Sir... Excuse me, Sir," said the officer, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Gabriel pulled his head out of the tree. "I'm looking for fruit," he said.

"You're looking for fruit. In a maple tree?"

"Yes. Well... I don't know what manner of tree it is, but --"

"Look here, Pal. Are you some kind of wacko or something? Because if you are, I'm supposed to take you in and process you and all that? So, what's it gonna be?"

"Process me?"

"Yeah. You look like either some kind of vagrant, or some kind of mental patient, or both. I don't know. But you're actin' real strange here, and I got a job to do."

Gabriel could only understand a portion of the words, but it seemed some explaination was required of him.

"I'm looking for fruit," he repeated.

"Alright, that's it," said the man in uniform, getting out his handcuffs. "You'd better turn around and put your hands behind your back."

"Pardon me?"

"Turn around. Now!"

Gabriel turned around.

"Hands behind your back!"

Gabriel did as he was told, and felt his wrists gripped by cold circles. After that, he was being dragged, then pushed along the sidewalk, and finally slammed against some sort of object. The object opened. Gabriel was thrust inside, and into a sitting position. It was like the structure he had slept in, but much, much smaller. Soon, the officer was in the front and the object began to move. Faster and faster, it sped down streets, and around corners, while Gabriel struggled to stay upright. His wrists began to really hurt from the circles behind his back.

At last, the car came to a stop. The door openned and Gabriel was again being dragged and pushed down the sidewalk, then hurried up a huge flight of stairs, and into another building.

"Got a live one here."

"Oh, yeah," said another man behind a desk.

"Yep. And it looks like we're gonna need a psych evaluation for this one."

"Callin' in the doc," said the man.

Gabriel was forced onto a hard seat and told not to move. He sat there for what seemed like hours before a short gentleman in a brown hat arrived and offered to shake his hand.

"Oh, excuse me," said the man, "I see you're still in handcuffs."

After a while, they were taken to another room, where they sat down with a small table between them. The man removed his hat and set it to the side. He smiled and offered his hand again, which Gabriel was now free to accept.

"My name is Dr. Wassman," he said, with a warm grin.

"They call me Gabriel."

"Pleased to meet you, Gabriel. Yes. They tell me you were talking to a tree on the sidewalk, is that right?"

"I was looking for fruit."

"In a tree on the sidewalk?"

"Of course. Where else?"

"Well, if you want to find fruit, you have to go to a fruitstand or a grocery. Yes. Fruit trees aren't planted on the sidewalk, you know."

"They're not?"

"Of course not. That would defeat the whole purpose."

"The purpose of what," inquired Gabriel.

"Well, fruit costs money, of course. And we can't have fruit trees growing on the sidewalk, where just anybody can eat from them. Do you see?"

"I don't understand. Isn't that the purpose of fruit trees?"

The doctor removed his glasses and polished them. This was an odd case.

"You think fruit should be free, is that it?"

"Free?"

"You don't think you should have to pay?"

"Pay?"

"Look, it's very simple..."

The doctor proceeded to explain, in the simplest terms he could think of, the basic concept of economics. He even explained words, when he had to.

Gabriel was astonished.

"So," he began, trying to wrap his mind around it, "you lock away the fruit?"

"Yes, we -- What have I been saying? Look, the farmer grows the fruit. And he deserves something for his efforts, doesn't he?"

"But God grows the fruit."

"No, no. God does not grow the fruit. The farmer grows the fruit."

"Because all the fruit trees are on farms."

"Precisely! On farms. And then the farmer sells them to the grocer, who houses them along with all the other food, and he sells them to the consumer. That's you. And you come in, and you pick out a nice piece of fruit, and you pay for it. Yes."

"With money."

"Yes, with money you've earned."

"How do I get this money?"

"I explained this, didn't I? You have a job of your own, just like the farmer, and just as he gets money for growing the fruit, you get money for doing what you do. Yes. Now you understand?"

"I think so. Where I come from, we also have people who take care of the trees. But they do it because they enjoy doing it, and they don't ask us for anything before letting us try the fruit. The trees do not belong to them."

It had taken Gabriel a while to gather the gist of this word, "belong", but he was begining to understand. Somewhat.

"Look, it's very simple," said the doctor, "What do you do?"

"I am the voice," replied Gabriel.

"You are a singer?"

"No, I don't sing, although we do have singers. I speak the truth."

"You speak the truth?" This was indeed getting interesting.

"The Word of God."

"I see," said the doctor. "And I suppose God speaks to you."

"He tells me what to say."

"Yesss."

It was less than an hour later now, and Gabriel was being led into yet another building. This one had white walls and white ceilings and pale blue floors. It was full of people, all acting on their own. None of them seemed very interested in any of the others for very long. Gabriel was led to take a seat by a polite young man, who shorly thereafter returned with a couple of pills and a glass of water.

"I don't understand," said Gabriel.

"You take these."

"What do I do with them?"

"Swallow them."

Gabriel did as he was told. Obedience was a great virtue in Heaven, after all.