ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 8

CRICKET KARR AND THE ROCK STAR

SULLY SAGE

FOR GOD MAY SPEAK IN ONE WAY, OR ANOTHER, YET MAN DOES NOT PERCEIVE IT. IN A DREAM, IN A VISION OF THE NIGHT. (Job 33:14, 15)

  “Why are you giggling?” Violetta asked. Her face was inches from mine as her eyes glared lazers at me. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming, but it already felt like she was going to break my arm as it twisted unnaturally behind my head.

  “I know something you don’t know,” I told her.

  “What?” she replied. Her large, lovely blue-green eyes squinted suspiciously.

  “I too have studied martial arts.”

  My words threw her off guard, and she relaxed just a little. Before what I told her could sufficiently sink in, our roles were reversed. She now found herself on her back with her arm twisting unnaturally. “How do you like it now?”

  “I like it just fine,” she replied with clenched teeth.

  She slipped out of it somehow, and we grappled for a minute. She was good, very good! She rolled away from me and sprung to her feet. She crouched in an attack position. I did likewise, and began to say, “Look, Violetta, lets…”

  Right when I began to speak this, she went where I was unwilling to go with punching or kicking. She came in fast and low right when I began to speak and rise from bended knees. She meant to slug me in the abdomen, but the blow went low and landed on my male reproductive system. The lightning bolt of pain felt like it blew the top of my head off.

  I hit the ground with a thud, and curled in a fetal position. One positive that came from this experience of excruciating pain was that it showed me a different side of Violetta for the first time. She crouched by my side and put a hand on my upper arm. She bent close enough to my ear that it tickled when she spoke. I guess she thought noise would add to my misery. “Sully, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you there… Are you alright?”

  “No,” I groaned.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing… Except… Stop… Being… Violent.”

  It felt like hours before the pain began to subside, but it was probably only minutes. I rolled onto my back, took a deep breath, and sighed. I looked at Violetta. Although her face looked very concerned, I said, “You’re mean.”

  Her hand covered her mouth, her eyebrows raised, and her eyes actually looked merry rather than the fierce gaze I had become accustomed to. She apologized again, but giggled as she did so.

  “You think it’s funny?”

  “You have to admit it is kind of funny.”

  “No, I don’t!”

  Now she outright laughed. Then like a switch was flipped, her fierce demeanor returned. “This all started when I saw you pointing a gun at yourself. How dare you contemplate something so selfish! Especially right before Callie and Jeremey’s wedding!”

  “Violetta, it had no bullets. And I was just looking at it, not pointing it at myself. I was gonna throw it into the river.”

  “Oh,” she frowned. There seemed to be genuine meekness in her countenance before she scolded. “You still should not handle a firearm so carelessly, regardless of whether it is loaded or not.”

  “Yeah, I know, you’re right,” I admitted, as I put one arm under my head and another over my eyes.

  “Is there anything I can do? I truly feel bad.”

  “Mouth to mouth resuscitation,” I replied mildly.

  “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” she replied testily. “In your dreams, fella.”

  “I need some type of resuscitation, that’s for sure,” I said, surprising myself.

  The physical pain must have caused my emotional pain to resurface. That unbearable feeling of being alone, especially in a crowd. Ever since my wife died, I had nobody to truly confide in. I was paranoid. I didn’t even fully trust my cousin Jeremey, even though he was the closest thing to a brother that I had. I had watched him eagerly ride the coattails of my celebrity too many times.

  But the Karr sisters were like a breath of fresh air. It seemed neither were impressed with my celebrity status. But they came at their indifference from two different angles. Violetta’s whole attitude toward me was hostile like, ‘you really think you’re something.’ Which made me ponder, do I? I suppose my obnoxious reaction toward her attitude only fed her harsh approach toward me.

  Cricket, on the other hand, treated me with subtle pity. This was actually worse. She also was so honest. But it came across with gentleness and meekness. Even the first time I spoke with her, I detected something different. I even hinted at my emotional despair. Now I just gave Violetta a similar hint and instantly regretted it. What was it about the Karr sisters that was urging me to open up?

  “What do you mean you need to be resuscitated?” Violetta asked.

  I sat up and hooked the crook of my arms around my knees. Her countenance was neutral, but curious. It had been a long time since I felt like I could trust somebody, like I did Poppy. Oh how I missed her! I couldn’t stop my eyes from welling. As a matter of fact, the effort only opened up the spicket. I felt embarrassed and tried to cover up. “Oh the pain, you throw quite a punch.”

  With a sympathetic tone approaching her sister’s, she asked, “Is it really from the punch?”

  I nodded.

  “Fair enough,” she replied, and picked up my gun. “Once again, I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean for our little sparring match to get out of hand. Since you’re incapacitated, do you want me to throw this in the river for you?”

  “Go for it.”     

  She threw it like a frisbee, and as it sailed through the air, it reminded me of a boomerang. It made me wonder when my dalliance with death would return. I had to stay strong for at least a few months.

  “I need to get going,” Violetta said. “You gonna be alright?”

  “Do you really care?”

  “Look, I meant it when I said I was sorry.”

  “Wow, so you do have a compassionate side. Must be Cricket’s influence.”

  She smiled. It wasn’t a warm and fuzzy grin, but pleasant enough. Especially since during or brief acquaintance, I had become accustomed to seeing her pretty lips pursed and her lovely eyes narrowed. “That’s truer than you realize.”

  In the midnight hour, my mind rotated back and forth pondering the Karr sisters as I laid in bed. No woman had moved me like my Poppy did. Now a pair of sisters both had come the closest, yet in different ways. I couldn’t sleep so I watched some reruns of ‘The Andy Griffith Show.’ Then I played some games on my phone. Some time after four I drifted off to sleep and ended up having the most profound dream of my life.

  I was walking in a beautiful meadow. Long grass shimmered and sparkled in the sunlight. I marveled at the majesty of the rich green grass with golden tips waving and twinkling in a gentle breeze with a powder blue sky above. A majestic mountain loomed in the distance.

  Suddenly I came upon Poppy’s tombstone. I was puzzled because this wasn’t the correct setting, as beautiful as it was. Then Cricket seemed to appear out of nowhere. She sat atop Violetta’s mare, Ivory Bell. She asked, “Would you like to see her again?”

  “Would I ever!”

  “You can, at the second coming of the Lord Jesus, when the righteous are caught up to meet the Lord in the air. The dead will rise first. Then we who are alive will be caught up with them. Therefore you will be with your beloved Poppy again. Isn’t that a comfort?”

  “Yes, yes it is,” I replied.

  I told Cricket about my dream. Keep in mind, at the time I was not a student of the Bible. I had only thumbed through it a few times. So I was absolutely blown away when she shared 2 Thessalonians chapter four with me. In particular, verses sixteen through eighteen.

  “Follow me to the mountain of panic and peace,” Cricket had said in my dream.

  “Panic and peace? That’s a contradiction.”

  “That’s because narrow is the road, and difficult is the way, and few make it to the top,” she explained, paraphrasing Matthew 7:13, 14.

  “Come,” she said, waving her arm in a follow her gesture.

  She galloped off and I began to run. I was surprised at how fast I moving, yet Cricket, on the back of Ivory Bell, began to fade into the distance. I ended up at a twenty foot gate made of wrought iron. I couldn’t get it open. Then I heard a deep soothing voice.

  “Would you like entrance?” a bearded man asked. His attire was that of a mountain man or maybe a lumberjack with red flannel shirt, tan Carhart pants, and work boots. His face was friendly, his gaze strong but gentle.

  “Did you see a young lady on a pale horse?” I asked.

  “I did. She’s at the top. Now would you like entrance?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Although I had pushed on the wrought iron gate to no avail, he pushed it aside with ease. “Who are you?”

  “Jack Querida is my name,” he replied. “Helping people negotiate the mountain of life is my game.”

  “Will I make it to the top?”

  “If you turn your eyes upon Jesus.”

  “Is this the mountain of life? Cricket called it the mountain of panic and peace.”

  “I suppose it could represent both. For now let’s call it an allegory of the mountain of life. Cricket is at the top. Go to her, and she will guide you to the Way the Truth and the Life.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’ll find out. For now follow me. Stick to the trail and you will make it to Cricket. But there is one rule. That rule is to keep your eyes on the trail up the mountain. Do not look to the right or left. The farther we go, the narrower the road gets. Therefore the further you will plumet if you take your eyes off the path.”

  The journey began. The more distance we covered, the more narrow the trail became just like he said. When it narrowed to the point of needing to place one foot directly in front of the other, I stopped, placing my hands against the cool rock of the mountain. I fully understood why part of the name was panic. “Jack!”

  “I’m here.”

  He had been in front, but now he was behind me! How did he do that?

  “Keep looking up the trail. You are almost there.”

  I kept moving along, hating how high and precarious it seemed. Then I saw Cricket twenty feet away on plateau, sitting on Ivory Bell. How did they get up there? A halo of light was behind her, making her look angelic, but her countenance was somber. “Cricket.”

  She didn’t speak, only waved her arm in a come motion. The path was now so narrow I couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. I could only scoot. I was terrified! I was only ten feet away from Cricket when I came to a narrow opening, just wide enough for a body to squeeze through. Keep your eyes forward, Jack had instructed. But when a voice spoke, the unexpected sound caused my head to look in the opening.

  “Sully!” It was Violetta. She looked just like she did when we grappled in black running attire and her strawberry blonde hair in a single braid. Her arm stretched toward me. “Take my hand.”

  I did, and the next thing I knew I was in a small cave with her. I laid on my back with my breath coming in desperate gasps. It was so hard to breath! Violetta scowled at me. “Get a grip.”

  Her hand reeled back and she slapped me. But I didn’t feel a thing. She did it again, but once again I didn’t feel it. She sighed and said, “You poor thing. You do need mouth to mouth resuscitation.”

  Her head lowered toward mine and our mouths connected. She began to kiss me and it felt so real! I was kissing her back and it wasn’t unpleasant at all, quite the opposite. But we had barely begun when Cricket’s voice put a stop to the brief passion. “Sully, you were almost there!”

  I jolted awake and my eyes blinked at sunlight streaming through the cracks of the window shade. I was laying on my back, and my arm was covering my mouth. No wonder I was having a hard time breathing. Scowling, I grabbed a tissue and began to wipe away slobber from my arm. I wasn’t making out with Violetta; I was kissing my own limb as I dreamt.

  I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. It showed twelve twenty in the afternoon. I jumped in the shower, and at just before one PM, I made my way downstairs. To my surprise, Cricket was there by herself sitting at the kitchen table reading. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back with a clip. Her blue gray eyes seemed to twinkle. Not for the first time I marveled at the atmosphere of peace and brightness that seemed to always surround her. She wasn’t as pretty as her sister, but she was more beautiful, if that makes sense.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Good afternoon,” she replied with a giggle and a warm smile.

  “Yes, I suppose it is afternoon. You should have let me know you were here.”

  “No big deal. Callie said you would probably sleep past noon.”

  “I guess my body is still on touring schedule. Are you here by yourself?”

  “I am now. Callie and Violetta just left.”

  No sooner had she said this, when Violetta burst through the screen door saying, “I forgot my tea… Oh, hi Sully.”

  “Violetta.”

  She eyed me cooly, then picked up her travel mug. I watched her mouth connect with the container and take a sip. Then she licked her upper lip and said, “Hot.”

  “Yes,” I said, as I eyed her mouth. Kissing her in my dream felt so real! I perceived her aiming a frown at me. “Those insulated mugs hold heat rather well.”

  She nodded, said bye, and just like that her appearance was in and out like a lovely vapor.

  “Are you ready for our study?” Cricket asked. “Or do you want to wait awhile?”

  “I’m ready,” I said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from her at the rectangular table. “But let me ask you something first. What do think of dreams?”