CHAPTER 22

DIRK

Destiny dropped off Brock, Bentley, and me by some woods on a gravel road. It was about an hour before sunset. The three of us entered the seemingly haunted forest and stopped.

“All right,” Brock began in a low tone, “let’s go over this one more time. It’s at least a half mile through these woods. If Nora’s information is correct, there will be two goons outside keeping watch. We will have to hide and wait until approximately 11:15. At that time, we’ll have Dirk approach, and Bent and I will take them out when they are distracted. Then we’ll enter through the back door into the house. We’ll go to the first hall we see. Two doors down on the right, we should find black robes and hoods. We’ll join the gathering downstairs and, God help us, rescue Amy when Nora arrives with her troops. If at any time the plan breaks down, retreat to the woods and we will have to depend on Nora and her people. Got it?”

“Got it,” Bentley and I said in unison.

Waiting at the edge of Jezebel’s compound for hours felt like years. Then it was go time, and the next forty-five minutes were a chaotic blur. To get the ball rolling, I left our post and staggered up to the two goons as they stood by the porch at the front of the mini mansion.

“When’s the worship service?” I slurred, acting like I was drunk. “Am I late?”

With profanity, they wanted to know who I was.

“Joe Smith.”

“Well, Joe Smith, why don’t you just head on down the road?” one of them spat.

“I came for the midnight service.”

“Get out of here now!”

“You get out of here.”

They both tried to grab me while Brock and Bentley loomed behind them, hitting them hard on the sides of their heads with blackjacks. They thumped to the ground like bags of cement. Adrenaline surged as we made our way through the house. Everyone seemed to be in the basement where they held their satanic fellowships. Every second it felt like somebody could appear out of nowhere.

I calmed down a little bit after we found the black robes and hoods, hidden inside the  fabric. I settled even more when we joined the evil congregation and blended in like chameleons. I felt confident that our mission would work. That confidence waned when they brought in a naked and blindfolded Amy. They tied her to some type of portable wall or large table that was stood on end.

When I rescued Amy from being raped, everything happened so fast that I had no recollection of her exposure. Now, with around a half hour of standing through the satanic ceremony, all I could do was look at Amy’s naked form. Under almost any other circumstance I would have been aroused at her nudity. She was so stunning that it was no wonder her other sister aspired for her to be an exotic dancer. Yet there was nothing sexual about this current situation. It was sick, and I was too focused on whether or not she would be harmed.

Not long after they secured Amy, she began to sing “Jesus Loves Me.” Hearing her sweet voice as well as witnessing her courage and dignity caused my eyes to burn with tears. I had to concentrate on holding back a sob. I couldn’t lose Amy. They were gonna have to kill me first.

Thankfully I was young and strong; otherwise, the tension would have given me a heart attack or stroke. Where was Nora Medora? Each second felt like a minute. At the stroke of midnight, Jezebel gave the command. It appeared that Nora was a no-show. It also appeared that we would be outnumbered by about fifteen to one. But, like I said, they were gonna have to kill me before they hurt my Amy.

“No!” I heard myself shout at the top of my lungs. I pulled out a switchblade knife that I had concealed and flung the hood off my head.

There was a hooded figure that was about to plunge a large knife into one of Amy’s perfect breasts. I charged at the knife wielding creep like an NFL linebacker, even though he turned and drove the knife at me. But another hooded figure beat me to him, knocking me out of the way. It must have been Brock or Bentley, and their heads up move allowed me to work on Amy’s bonds.

“Everybody on the floor,” I heard Nora shout as she burst into the room with numerous armed personnel.

I ignored her command as I worked to release Amy. It was surreal. All the chaos happening around Amy and me almost seemed somewhere else because I was so absorbed with my task.

“It’s me, Amy,” I told her as I sawed vigorously on her bound ankles.

She made frantic grunts with the gag still in her mouth, but I needed to get her limbs free first. As soon as I had her first arm free, she took care of her gag and blindfold herself. We flung our arms around each other, even though we had no time for that. If I was Brock and more experienced with violence and action, I probably would have tried to flee the scene with her before we embraced.

“I love you so much,” Amy breathed into my neck.

“I love you, too,” I sobbed as I kissed the side of her lovely face numerous times.

It turned out that there was no need to flee. It seemed that these Satanists lacked bravery and the will to fight. Or maybe they were just sensible in not resisting Nora’s swat team. The only one showing outright resistance was Jezebel. She was fuming at Nora. She repeated words like “traitor” and “cursed” with all sorts of profanity laced into her diatribe.

“Are you two all right?” an officer asked Amy and me.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

With some of my bearings gained, I whipped off my robe and attempted to cover Amy.

“I don’t want that thing,” she said with contempt as she pushed it away.

“Angel, you’re naked,” I said just above a whisper.

“Can I have your shirt instead?” she asked with a small voice.

I didn’t hesitate and pulled my tee-shirt over my head. It barely covered her, but would do for now. Then I looked around for Brock and Bentley. I froze when I saw Brock. He, like me, was shirtless. He held a bloody hand to his forehead as he stared at a body on the floor. It was Bentley. Two paramedics were working on his still form. My heart froze as I realized it was Bent who intervened between the knife guy and me. He had saved my life as well as Amy’s. But he was hurt. Badly hurt!

“Bentley!” Amy squealed with shock as her hands went to her mouth. She moved to go to him and I caught her arm.

“Give them space to work,” I told her gently, yet firmly.

No sooner had I said this than one of the paramedics arose and went to Brock, gently touching his arm as she spoke. The other paramedic covered Bentley’s head with a white towel. Amy buried her head in my chest and wailed. My own tears dropped into Amy’s hair for the wonderfully silly man with whom I was barely acquainted. He was a courageous man who had sacrificed his life for Amy and me.

Brock nodded as the paramedic left his side. Then, with bloody fingers, he pinched the bridge of his nose, bowed his head, and closed his eyes. Brock had valiantly tried to stop Bentley’s bleeding with his shirt, but the wound was too deep and severe.

We stood numb and dazed, hoping we would wake up and realize it was just a nightmare. But of course, that didn’t happen. Nora approached Brock, whose head was still bowed. She rubbed his back as she spoke to him, and he looked up with a tear-stained face. They shared a quick hug and she patted his arm before moving briskly to Amy and me.

“Are you two okay?” Nora asked. Her dark eyes were bloodshot.

“No,” Amy croaked.

“We’re unharmed,” I mumbled. “But we’re in a state shock over Mr. Bonnano. He sacrificed his life for us. He took the knife meant for me!”

“No greater love,” Nora said. Then to my surprise, a tear leaked from her eye.  She patted my shoulder twice. Then she looked at Amy, gave her forearm a squeeze, and quickly resumed her duties.

The rest of the night and early morning was an absolute blur, a nightmare we couldn’t awake from. The only clear memory I have is of Amy and me clinging to each other. Our bodies were racked with exhaustion and our minds swirled with mixed emotions. Grief over Bentley, and relief that the ordeal was over.

The next day I was still dazed and confused. I slept fitfully; I couldn’t stop thinking about the loss of the heroic man I barely knew. The only thing that was perfectly clear in my mind was my feelings for Amy. Coming so close to potentially losing her made me fully realize that I wanted her in my life forever. I also needed to see her. I dressed and headed out for the Knight-Storm residence with a proposal of marriage simmering in my brain. Strange as it may seem, I felt like my intentions would somehow honor Bentley Bonnano.

AMY

I don’t know whether to call it the next day or later that same day. So about ten hours after I parted ways with Dirk, he came over to see me. It was the first joy that I experienced after waking from a fitful sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about and weeping over sweet Bentley.

“Hey,” he said with his typical shy smile that always melted my heart.

“Hey,” I replied as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

“I am now,” I croaked before I kissed him again.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he moaned. “I just had to see you.”

“I was longing for you, too.”

“It’s more than that,” he said as he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. “I love you more than life itself. I think I’ve proven that.”

“I love you, too. And yes, you’ve proven it big time.”

He lowered to one knee and took both of my hands in his, causing me to frown.

“Amy, will you marry me?” Dirk asked.

After all of my crying and sadness over the last hours, my eyes still managed to fill with tears of joy. I lowered to my knees, cupped his face in my hands, and we kissed again.

“Absolutely,” I replied as I gazed dreamily into his gentle eyes. “When?”

“Immediately,” he asserted.

My butt dropped onto the back of my calves as my mouth flew open.

“Dirk, shouldn’t we at least wait until spring?”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” he said as he showed me the shy smile again. “Listen to my offer, and tell me whether you agree. I feel like this is something right out of Mr. Bonnano’s playbook, so hear me out. Right now, the Cubs are a long shot to win the World Series; they have to win tonight and tomorrow night to accomplish the feat.”

“What do the Cubs have to do with you and me getting married?” I asked with a laugh.

“Like I said, hear me out,” he replied with an adorable, yet mischievous grin. “If the Cubs lose the World Series, we’ll get married in the spring. If they win, we get married right after the game.”

“You mean, like, right after?” I stammered. “That night?”

“Yes! You know Dee invited the Samsons over to watch it with us.”

“That’s if there’s a game seven.”

“There will be,” he replied with a rare, cocky grin as he pulled me against him. “The Cubs will win it, and I’ll win you.”

“You’ve already won me,” I corrected.

“I haven’t fully won you,” he whispered into my ear. “Until we come together like perfectly matched puzzle pieces. I want to know you in the Biblical sense.”

My mind spun, but my body began to fill with heat and excitement. I opened my mouth to agree with the sentiment, but before I could, Dirk’s mouth covered mine. Dirk and I were already Cubs fans because of our grandfathers. But that kiss made me the biggest Cubs fan ever. For in that kiss, I felt promise, commitment, and covenant.

“I agree,” I gasped when we broke apart.

“You don’t know how much that means to me,” Dirk said as he ran his fingers gently across my cheek         

“Okay,” I replied as I began to comprehend the direction he was going. “So you’re saying the plan is, if the Cubs win, we’re ready for marriage. If the Cubs lose, we need to wait.”

“Right. So you do agree to this arrangement.”

“I do,” I replied cheerily as I clasped my hands in front of me and swiveled back and forth. “You’re saying if the Cubs win, we’re in. Nuptials, that is. And if they lose, we wait until spring to marry.”

“Exactly,” he beamed. “So what do you say?”

“Go, Cubs, go!” I said, pumping my fist in the air as he grabbed me and kissed me again.

“Should we tell Dee and Brock?” Dirk asked with a shaky, trembling voice.

“Are you okay?” I frowned.

“I’m fine,” he chuckled uneasily. “I just really need for the Cubs to come back and win this thing. Now, let’s get to the courthouse before it closes for a marriage license.”

“Now that’s optimism,” I laughed.

DESTINY

Cubs win! Cubs win!

Amy and Dirk Easton are the first couple I have ever known to celebrate two days for a wedding anniversary. The reason for the duel anniversary date is simple really. The Cubs won the World Series at approximately 11:50 at night, central standard time. After watching the team celebrate for a few minutes, we turned the television off and Captain Kirk spent about fifteen to twenty minutes with a sermon and ceremony. This ceremony began on November 2^nd and flowed over midnight into the 3^rd.  Brock held the honor of best man and I was matron of honor. There were about two dozen others in attendance, including Dirk’s brother and his new lady, Whitney Waconia. Yes, the same Whitney that Dirk had briefly dated.

 After Dirk kissed the beaming bride, he carried her up to her bedroom and closed the door rather emphatically behind them. The rest of us turned the television back on and watched Chicago celebrate.

The following spring when Bentley’s tombstone was installed, Amy, Dirk, Brock, and I made a trip together to the cemetery. It was a pleasant day and warm for early spring. Our foursome turned in unison when we arrived at the modest, black marble marker.

BENTLEY BRIAN BONNANO

BORN OCTOBER 19, 1982, DIED NOVEMBER 1, 2016

THE SHELL IS HERE BUT THE NUT IS GONE

We all started laughing when we read the statement after the name and dates. Then Amy and I started crying. She knelt and kissed the stone at his name. I repeated her gesture. After that, we all held hands and Brock led us in prayer.

I felt strangely peaceful as we walked out of the cemetery. I gazed up at the tall pine trees that seemed to point to heaven through the pale blue sky. I thought of the verse in James 4:14. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time, and then vanishes away.

In the scope of eternity, our time here on earth is so incredibly short. We really aren’t all that far behind that sweet, loveable, goofball Bentley Bonnano. How will we spend our borrowed time? So much of my life had been a frivolous waste. I wanted to make the most of every moment I had left. I needed to spend my life seeking and living for God, for He is the only escape from this planet of imminent death.

The day following our trip to visit Bentley’s shell, Amy wanted Dirk to meet her at Brock’s and my place. Shortly after Amy and Dirk married, she moved into his apartment with him. I don’t mean to criticize Dirk’s decorating ability; well maybe a little. Anyway, within days of Amy moving in, the dingy little apartment went from drab to wonderfully bright and homey.

Amy arrived first, and she and I enjoyed some raspberry Lipton tea on the porch. The taste of the beverage reminded me of Bentley’s spiked tea, and I smiled at Brock and my innocent mistake in partaking of it. Amy seemed more vibrant than usual, and I wondered what was cooking with her. Being around her cheer and youthful energy invigorated my soul.

Dirk showed up about twenty minutes after Amy. Her eyes bubbled with excitement as they followed his Jeep coming up the driveway. She arose to greet him and I followed behind. Brock was in Bentley’s shop trying to finish the project dear Bent had been working on when he died. It was an old Indian motorcycle. Both Brock and Amy petitioned Dirk at the same time. Brock wanted Dirk to hold something for him, so he gave Amy the ‘just a minute’ sign. She stopped with mild disgust and put her hands on her hips. When Dirk was done helping Brock, the two men began to converse.

“Dirk, I need to talk to you,” Amy said.

“Okay,” Dirk replied, but remained in dialogue with Brock.

Amy solicited Dirk’s attention again, only to be politely ignored again. She pursed her lips in frustration and then practically ordered him to talk to her.

“Okay, okay,” Dirk said laughing as he moved toward her.

Amy bit her lip and looked at him dreamily as she gently placed her arms on his shoulders. Her mouth going to his ear. She was wearing a long, light green sweater that looked amazing with her red gold hair and mismatched eyes. The sweater went down to her upper thighs. She whispered to him for about twenty or thirty seconds. Then she lifted her sweater up to her belly button with one hand and with the other grabbed Dirk’s hand and placed it on her stomach. My hand made a thump as it hit my chest.

“Oh, my,” I blurted.

“What?” Brock said, looking up from his project in time to see Dirk kneel in front of Amy and kiss her stomach. “Oh, my. Is she?”

“Pregnant,” I interjected, smiling at him. “That’d be my guess.”

“Aren’t they a bit young?” Brock asked, wincing.

“They’re both incredibly mature for their age,” I assured him.

“Oh, I know that,” he replied. “I mean, they should have become more financially stable before having kids. I guess we’re in a position to help them out, though.”

“Don’t worry about that,” I told him. “Amy confided in me that not only are Dirk and his brother doing pretty well with their business, but the brothers got a pretty healthy life insurance claim from their parents’ deaths. Their grandparents also left them a good sum.”

“So why do they live in that dingy little apartment?” Brock wanted to know.

“Dirk has always been biding his time to find a place in the country,” I replied. “Now that it’s spring, they’re looking in earnest.”

“Well, wonderful,” Brock said, and then looked at me with a weird, silly grin.

“What’s that look for?” I asked him.

“Grandma,” he said, chuckling.

“Grandpa,” I said as I slapped him on the chest while I wore a huge grin. “Actually I don’t know what to call us. Obviously, in reality, we’re just very close friends. Spiritually, we’re either something like brother and sister, or aunt and uncle. We’re really not old enough to be their parents.”

“Close enough,” Brock said. “They both got cheated on the parent end of things. It’s only fitting that they have extra young adoptive parents in adulthood.”

“Well put, Mr. Storm,” I said, grinning up at him as he put his arm around me.

“Why thank you, Mrs. Storm,” he replied, kissing my forehead as Amy and a dazed but happy-looking Dirk walked toward us holding hands.

“Dee, Brock,” Amy said as she absolutely glowed. “You’re gonna be grandparents.”

I couldn’t help weeping for joy. Not only was there the blessed tiny person in Amy’s womb, but this beautiful, young couple wanted Brock and me in the vacated role of their baby’s grandparents. Amy’s words to me when we hugged made me feel truly forgiven for what I considered the most grievous transgression of my life – aborting my child when I was a lost and confused young woman. Thankfully God is willing to forgive anything when we ask and repent.

“I love you, Mom,” she whispered into my ear.

“I love you too,” I returned. “Brock and I are so blessed and honored that you two consider us your child’s grandparents.”

“The blessing and honor is ours,” Amy said after our embrace. Her big, shiny, blue eye and green eye gazing into my eyes.

 Many years previous, Brock’s gentle words of ‘I got you’ replayed countless times in my head; the echo becoming ‘I love you.’ Amy’s words ‘I love you, Mom,’ also would have reverberated in my ears, except she was a present reality in life. My spiritual daughter and I would exchange words of love and affection often as we journeyed toward eternity.

THE END

(Beginning next time: Billy Bob Booker and the Hooker.)

Billy Bob’s Christian faith wavers after he is jilted by his fiancée. When he and his ex are due to attend the same wedding, he attempts to hire a lovely young woman his best friend knows to be his date.