A Book For November

“I can’t believe I married someone so useless!”

The screaming had started again, but, for once, Gabriel barely heard it. His mahogany eyes were fixed on the letter in his shaking hand. His heart was on the floor and he felt as though he could step on it if he moved.

Twenty thousand dollars.

The only person who had ever been kind to him had left Gabriel twenty thousand dollars. It was a way out of this house. His exit to get away from the screaming. All it had cost him was someone who loved him.

Now, his Uncle Max had given him the greatest treasure in the world: escape.

Three years later, Gabriel sank his head into his hands as he looked at the ruined page.

This has potential but you didn’t lead the story anywhere.

Did you put any effort into this at all? It’s full of contradictions!

How long have you been writing again?

Gabriel sighed and pushed the notebook off the desk. It landed in the bin with a satisfying thump. He would need to go out and buy a new notebook or he wouldn’t be able to finish his Creative Writing assignment.

He left the dormitory without retrieving his coat. He welcomed the cutting wind of approaching fall. It tousled his short, black hair and dismissed the faint warmth of the sun on his tanned skin.

At the bookstore, his eyes skimmed past the lively, bright colored notebooks. The painfully cheerful slogans seemed to vomit glitter. At last, in the bottom right corner of the shelf, he found the perfect black notebook.

Without a second glance around, he purchased it and quickly returned into the punishing wind. Maybe the chill would help focus his thoughts.

"Hold this."

A voice cut through his thoughts. He blinked stupidly at the proffered wrench.

"Well?" The girl looked at him in annoyance. Her amber eyes cut straight through him. He stood there frozen. She was like something out of a dream. Beautiful and wild like the autumn wind. He felt a breath of relief when the wind lifted her tumble of chestnut curls to obscure her face.

Gabriel blinked back his reverie and felt his cheeks redden. “Oh! Er, right. Sorry!” He held the wrench as though she had handed him a snake.

She laughed at him, but it was not harsh or hurtful. It was warm, like the crackling of a campfire. "It won't bite you." She teased, turning her attention back to her Harley. She brushed her hair out of her face, smudging it with grease.

Gabriel smiled, but didn’t adjust his hold on the wrench.

Impulsively, he retrieved his phone and turned the flashlight towards her, almost skimming the back of her head with the bag that dangled around his wrist. “S-sorry!” he stammered.

"For what?" She asked, without looking up from her work.

He opened his mouth but closed it again. She was too absorbed in her task to hear him. “Um, nothing. Is the light useful here?”

What am I doing?

"Don't worry about it. I've almost…" She made one more adjustment, got up, kicked the clutch, and started the motor. The bike roared to life. She laughed. "Got it!" She cheerfully shut off the motor and held out a grease-stained hand to him.

Gabriel slipped his phone into his pocket. He nearly put his hand in hers before realizing that she was waiting for the wrench. Hastily, he handed it over. “You’re pretty good at that,” he mumbled.

She laughed at him and stowed the wrench in one of the leather side saddles. "I couldn't afford a mechanic, so I learned how to do it myself." She studied him. "Want to go for a ride? I'll treat you to lunch for the help."

Gabriel blinked, surprised to find the first impulse on his lips to be a careless “Yes!” He swallowed back the uncharacteristic words and shook his head. “No. I couldn’t impose.” He hugged his bag closer and turned away. “Have a nice day,” he mumbled as he fled.

He vaguely heard her call out to him, but quickened his pace.

Back in the safe solitude of his dormitory, he threw himself into his chair and dropped the notebook onto the desk. He worked furiously, determined to produce something he could present without completely humiliating himself. However, when he finally sat back, he was horrified to find the pages covered in blacked out lines. At first, he thought it might be the pen and tried others, but no matter what he wrote, the sentences crossed themselves out.

His heart racing, Gabriel flipped through the book again and stopped at the lone line of text.

‘I could try again.’

He sat back, uncertain of what was going on. “Nothing I wrote was any good anyway,” he grumbled.

There was an impatient knock at his front door.

Gabriel took a final look at his awful work before rising with a sigh. Before he could fully open the door, it sprung from his hand as though blown by a strong wind.

"Good afternoon, Gabriel." The woman from earlier simply strode into his apartment uninvited. "You really ought to be more careful with your things." By the time he turned around, she was perched on the arm of his couch with her legs crossed. She smiled and held his wallet up in one grease-stained hand.

Dumbly, Gabriel’s hand dropped down to his pocket, confirming its absence even as he stared at it. “I’m an idiot,” he sighed, exasperated with himself he reached for the wallet. “Thank you. I’m sorry you went out of your way.”

She shrugged as she looked around. "I was curious anyway."

Gabriel looked at her in disbelief. “Curious? About... me?”

What could this vibrant woman find interesting about him?

"About why you were not wearing a coat," she agreed.

He blinked. He couldn’t tell her he didn’t have one. It hung beside the door behind him. He couldn’t tell her it was because he deserved it. Who would understand that?

“I… didn’t think I needed one today,” he replied lamely.

She arched a brow in disbelief.

Her eyes traveled around the small empty studio. There was nothing interesting to look at. No bed, no art, not even a tv. The only thing that showed any care was an ergonomic desk chair and a cluttered, but quality desk.

This wasn't a home. It was barely somewhere to sleep. It was somewhere to work. She moved from the sofa to his desk picking up a black moleskine notebook.

“Th—that’s nothing but idiocy,” Gabriel protested, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks and praying that the mysterious black markings would hide most of the writing from her.

As usual, God ignored him. He wished he could crawl into a hole to die as a smile touched her lips and she read a brief passage aloud.

He stopped and listened to the passage that she had chosen.

In her warm alto, the words took on a new life.

"It's beautiful," she said. "And sad."

It took him a dazed moment to realize she had stopped reading and those last words were hers.

“It’s empty and hopeless,” he replied, parroting the words of his strongest critics more out of habit than thought.

She frowned at him and glanced around the apartment again. "If that's how you feel, you need inspiration. How can you create in a space like this?"

“I don’t exist in this room when I write,” he replied uncomfortably. “Why am I telling you this? You just barged in here. I don’t even know your name.”

"November." She closed the book and looked up at him. "Let's go. Take your coat this time. You will need it."

Before he could think of protesting, he found himself swept away in her whirlwind. Suddenly, he was on the back of her bike, clinging to her slender waist.

They stopped at a gas station. November went inside the shop and returned carrying two paper bags. She stowed her purchases in the saddle bags, filled the tank, and they were on their way.

An hour passed and the snow capped majesty of Mt. Greylock loomed ever closer.

She entered the park and he tightened his grip nervously. She deftly guided the bike up the icy switchbacks, unfazed by the freezing wind. Often, she rode too close to the edge for comfort.

Gabriel closed his eyes, clinging to her back desperately."

When they stopped, he hardly believed it. She pulled out of his grip. Her clear laugh echoed off the trees.

He peeled his eyes open and observed her pull a few parcels from her saddle bags.

"This way," she prompted. They were not on the road anymore.

“Where are we?” he asked.

She glanced back with a twinkle in her eye, but didn't answer. She led the way up a steep path. The hike was short. He nearly collided with her when she stopped at the top.

It seemed like they stood atop the clouds. The world below was orange, brown, and white, as fall gave way to winter.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest as he lost himself in the view. They stood in comfortable silence until the chill drew their attention back to reality.

She handed him a sandwich and coke before settling down with her back against a tree. "This is my favorite place. Tomorrow it will be closed for the winter." She said as she pulled out a notebook similar to his and a watercolor pallette.

“You paint?” Gabriel asked as he settled down beside her.

"Sometimes." She began to sketch the landscape nibbling disinterestedly at her food while waiting for the layers to dry. She unfolded the world through her eyes. Breathing life into the snowy silence just as she had done to his written words.

Gabriel found himself basking in her presence as he lazed in the distant warmth of the sun. Out here, with November, the screaming and anxiety of his world faded into the background and he was able to really relax.

Eventually, she noticed his expression and smiled. "Get out of your box sometimes. It helps my creations feel less empty."

“Usually that only makes my head louder,” he admitted absently.

"Then, you go to the wrong places." She carefully removed the watercolor from her book and handed it to him.

He marveled at the perfection of the piece. It was as if she had plucked out the sky and settled it onto the paper.

“It’s wonderful.”

She did not appear satisfied with it but said, "It's yours."

Gabriel blinked in surprise before nodding solemnly. “Thank you.”

She flashed a quick smile and stowed her supplies. "Time to go." If they waited much longer, it would be dark.

Gabriel nodded and glanced around to make sure he had all of the trash in his pockets.

He was quiet as they returned to the bike, drinking in the last drops of the tranquility.

The mountain did not seem as scary on the ride down. The icy hands of reality pulled at their clothes and hair as they drew near the city.

At last, she stopped the bike in front of his apartment, dismounted, removed her helmet, and stowed the spare she had given him.

“Can I see you again?” he asked cautiously.

She furrowed her brow and glanced away. "Maybe someday." Impulsively, she closed the distance between them, tilted her head back, and kissed him.

When she broke away, she looked into his eyes. "Goodbye Gabriel." Her tone was reluctantly final. She spun away from him and threw herself back on her bike.

Stunned, Gabriel could only watch her go in silence. When the taillights disappeared into the growing darkness, he returned to his apartment.

He propped up the picture November had painted on his desk.

Then, he sat down to write in this notebook.

This time the pen worked just fine and nothing turned black.