Free The Revelation of Gabriel Adam by S.L. Duncan

hair and green eyes accentuated by heavy eyeliner. Her face was soft and inviting, with full cheeks and dark eyebrows. Her features gave the impression that she might be caring, gentle . . . motherly. Her expression, however, was a contradiction. Angry, with her full lips pursed and eyebrows arched.
    Was this Aseneth? He knew so little about her. His dad had always been reluctant to talk when Gabe mentioned her in conversations about women or dating. To this day, he’d never even seen a picture of her.
    His father had his arm around her, but they both looked rigid, uncomfortable.
    They didn’t match, either, with his dad tidy and neat in a well-starched collar, much like the shirts he wore today. The woman’s outfit looked more like the clothes of a free spirit. A long, billowy dress in a cultural print flowed down to open-toed sandals.
    He made a mental note to ask his father about her next time he got the chance.
     

     
    In the hallway outside his room, Gabe discovered scents of tobacco and greasy food. The smell would have made him sick on any other occasion, but the rumble in his gut said, Too hungry to get picky . If someone served fried tobacco sandwiches, he’d be up for giving them a try.
    Carpeted stairs led down through the foyer and to the adjoining kitchen. His father sat at the breakfast table, and a man Gabe recognized as the giant from last night’s cab ride tended to the stove. He was even bigger than Gabe remembered with muscled arms the size of a man’s leg. A white yarmulke adorned his balding head, and remnants of a recent meal peppered a matching scholarly goatee. The hulk had a weathered appearance, with lines in his face that gave him the scouring look of a man never content. As he cooked, he smoked a pipe that filled the whole bottom floor with a light haze.
    “Good afternoon,” his dad said.
    “What time is it?” Gabe asked.
    “Nearly half three. How’s your head?” He smiled like he’d been waiting to ask.
    Gabe rubbed the newly formed knot. “Super. Thanks for the warning.”
    The large man approached. “Welcome to my home, Gabriel.” He rolled his r so hard, Gabe hardly recognized his own name.
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “Professor Carlyle is an old friend of mine from Ellon, up near Aberdeen. He teaches history and religion here at Durham University, and he’s the man who’s been helping you with your admission to NYU.”
    “I appreciate that, sir.”
    The professor laughed. “Bin the formality, eh? Call me Carlyle. Friends do. Unlucky that, about New York University. Turns out, you got in.”
    Gabe slumped and wondered how his life could possibly get any worse.
    “Anyway, you must be hungry. How about a nice fried breakfast?”
    “But it’s three thirty in the afternoon.”
    “Every day should start with breakfast, no matter when that day begins,” Carlyle growled. “Now, sit. What have you been teaching him, Joseph?”
    “You’ll find he’s of his own mind on most subjects.”
    Carlyle removed several pieces of bacon from its packaging and put them onto a large iron skillet. They sizzled in the hot grease.
    Gabe glanced at the meat and then the yarmulke on Carlyle’s head. The giant noticed.
    “An old rule for another time meant simply to discourage spread of disease in a ravaged land.” Carlyle flipped the bacon, no longer looking at Gabe. “How’s the jet lag?”
    “I feel like hell.”
    Carlyle snorted while tending to the bacon. The slightest indication of a smile shined through his facial hair. “Feel like hell? Now, there’s a notion coming from you.”
    Gabe thought for a second that he had offended Carlyle by his language.
    The awkward moment passed, and Carlyle said, “You’ll adjust. Your father tells me that you don’t exactly follow in his path with regards to religion.”
    By Carlyle’s tone, Gabe couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement. He looked at his father, wondering how in the world such a conversation mattered at a time