ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 11

CRICKET KARR AND THE ROCK STAR

SULLY

FOR WHO KNOWS WHAT IS GOOD FOR MAN IN LIFE, ALL THE DAYS OF HIS VAIN LIFE THAT HE PASSES AS A SHADOW? WHO CAN TELL A MAN WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO HIM UNDER THE SUN? (Ecclesiastes 6:12)

It’s weird how strange dreams can be. It’s like ‘The Twilight Zone’ in your own mind.

The night that the Karr sisters watched me sing a few songs with Jeremey and Callie’s church band, I had trouble getting to sleep. Predominant on my mind was why I felt so self-conscious with the two siblings watching me. I literally was more relaxed at my last concert, performing in front of twenty thousand screaming fans.

Cricket, four years older than her sister, was sweet, innocent, and sometimes naïve, yet wise beyond her years. One of the first things I learned as a student of the Bible, thanks to Cricket, was Christ in you the hope of glory. (Colossians 1:27) In other words, being fully surrendered to Jesus, thereby reflecting His character through your individual personality. And did I ever see this in Cricket!

Violetta, on the other hand, was more alluring. She was mysterious. She was strong. She was stubborn. She was sexy without trying. If she was actress, she’d play the part of a woman warrior quite naturally. Her gaze was much more unsettling than her sister’s because I couldn’t get a read on what she might be thinking. More often than not, I felt it was scornful. But then there were moments when I wondered, does she actually dig me?

I eventually drifted off, but in the night vision, I got out of bed and walked down the steps of Jeremey’s house. I went through the kitchen and out the back door. But instead of the large yard of his acreage, I found myself on a dark and desolate street in an abandoned town that I didn’t  recognize. Was it one of the hundreds I had been in before?

I began a brisk walk, looking for someone or something I recognized. Ghostly fingers grabbed at me from broken windows, and I stumbled off a sidewalk and onto the street. I sensed something was pursuing me. A low growl had me spinning and snorting at it. Then after a couple three sixties, I cried out, “Lord, help me!”

A man emerged from the door of a dark building. “Sully, follow me.”

It was the man from my dream a couple nights previous. “Jack, Jack Querida?”

He grinned. “You petitioned the Lord for help and He sent me.”

I followed and he began walking up a large tree that was more horizontal than vertical. The higher we went, the more I felt the willies, especially when he made a right onto a smaller, yet higher limb. After about a half dozen steps, we entered a door. Now it seemed like we were in a brightly lit warehouse with a huge ceiling. It must have been at least three stories high inside.

Jack smiled at me. “Cricket’s busy right now, but she will take you to the next level if you behave.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

Jack climbed onto a dark yellow forklift. “Get on.”

He pointed at the forks, so I placed a foot on each one and grabbed hold of the mast. I asked, “Isn’t this an OSHA violation?”

“Not here, you’re on a journey of self-discovery. You’re being freed from the tendency of self-murder among other things. And the Karr sisters are gonna help you.”

“Where are they?”

“You’ll see.”

Up I went as the forklift hummed. I started to get the willies again as I separated from the ground. Jack Querida was friendly and intriguing, but was I always going to be precariously high when encountering him?

There was a door almost to the ceiling of the warehouse. The door had a window about the size of a notebook. A yellow light glowed from the glass as the forklift slowly moved me toward it. I looked inside and saw Cricket conducting some type of class. She was wearing something like a black graduation gown.

“Go in,” Jack ordered from below.

I did as I was told. Cricket scowled at me, and her disapproval felt unpleasant. “You’re late! You’ll have to stay after class. Now go sit in the corner.”

Faceless heads turned to look at me and it felt creepy. I went to the corner. The next thing I knew Cricket was by my side. Now she was wearing a long, flowing lacey white gown that seemed to glow. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she smiled. “There, there, Sulivan. I didn’t mean to be so mean. Did Jack Querida rescue you from the demons on the street?”

“Yes he did,” I replied. “But I’m not crazy about heights, and three times now he has made me uncomfortable that way.”

“In the world you will have tribulation. But be of good cheer, Jesus overcame the world, and He will give you peace. (John 16:33) You are to learn to trust and obey. For He will give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways. In their hands they shall bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone. (Psalm 91:11, 12) When you are in Jack’s presence, he will let no harm come to you.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Yes it is,” she said, smiling sweetly. She reached out and rubbed her finger on my ear. That was odd! It felt cold and wet. Then she whispered secretly, “We’re alone.”

She leaned down as if to kiss me. Dreams could feel so real! Especially when outside forces manipulated your unaware mind. For a second it felt like her lips were on my cheek. But then she started to lick! It tickled and I laughed. “Cricket, stop!”

She snuffled and snorted. Man, this was weird! Then she kissed my mouth. But once again she licked, so I tried to kiss her back like they do in France. But her tongue waggled very aggressively on my lips and inside my mouth. It felt slobbery and I pushed her away. “Boy, Cricket, you really are inexperienced.”

Her shoulders felt really small as I gently shoved her away… And furry!

I snapped awake and looked into the bulging dark brown eyes of Waffle, Jeremey’s Boston Terrier. She moved her face back toward mine with a slurpy lap, lap, lap. I jumped out of bed as I wiped vigorously at my mouth. “Yuk, yuk, yuk!”

I ran to the bathroom and put about a half a bottle of mouthwash to use. They say a dog’s mouth is cleaner than a baby’s. But for good measure I also drank a capful of the Listerine. Waffle sat sideways on her rearend and watched me with her tongue lolling. A beam of morning sun shone behind her like a spot light. I felt like saying ‘bad dog,’ but she meant no harm. As mortifying as it was in the moment, it was indeed pretty funny. So I chuckled and gave her head a pat. “Let’s just keep this between you and me.”

Callie’s older sister, husband, and two kids arrived that afternoon. So that evening they had a grill out over at the grandparent’s place across the road from Jeremey’s. Other friends and family made the gathering to be about thirty or people.

Nobody fussed over me and that was very pleasant. I was just one of the crowd. I guessed Jeremey and Callie petitioned the peeps to pay me no mind. No asking for pictures or autographs and such. In a way it made me feel odd, like I was snobbish or something. Was I? I really didn’t mind that much. After all, I owed my fame and fortune to the fans.

But a little child broke the ice, and I was actually grateful. One of Lindsey’s daughters, who I guessed was five or six, approached me with a mandolin. She was a cutie with big blue eyes and blonde hair, just like her mother and Aunt Callie. With her sweet little voice she asked, “Can you play this, Mr. Sully?”

Lindsey quickly took her gently yet firmly by the shoulders. “Honey, that’s Violetta’s mandolin. You shouldn’t take it without asking. Besides, just because Mr. Sage is a musician, it doesn’t mean he can play everything.”

“Actually I’ve tinkered quite a bit with a mandolin,” I said. “I have one myself. If Miss Karr doesn’t mind, I’d be glad to play you something.”

“By all means,” Violetta granted permission. “Please do.”

I was surprised that Violetta seemed as eager as the child for me to play the instrument. We were on a large deck with benches that horseshoed all around the large wooden structure of the house. I sat and Violetta seated herself kitty corner and watched me with such intensity that I felt even more self-conscious than the previous night.

I thought I would be playing for an audience of one little girl. But after Violetta sat, a dozen or more others gathered around. This was good. The bigger the crowd, the better. I was king at getting lost in a crowd.

My biggest struggle with fame was when one or two admirers approached me on the street. God love em, but they looked at me and I looked at them wondering what to say or do. This gave me a reputation of being standoffish. But in reality I was rather shy and insecure. Ironically, my comfortability with singing and playing music gave the opposite appearance. My feisty interaction with Violetta the previous few days was actually a cover for how much she intimidated me.

I played a Beatles classic, ‘Norwegian Wood.’ Although the Beatles tune featured a sitar, I felt  that a mandolin had a similar enough sound. When I finished, Abby beamed, jumped up and down, and clapped. The others clapped as well, even Violetta. But nobody besides Abby jumped up and down.

I handed the mandolin back to Abby, but she pleaded, “Will you play something else?”

I shrugged, nodded, then I jumped in with possibly the most famous mandolin piece in rock history. At least it is the most prominent in my mind. I played the solo from Rod Stewert’s song ‘Magie May.’

Abby jumped up and down again, and clapped. I grinned as she took the mandolin, sat next to me, and strummed. I was gonna give her a quick lesson, but as I glanced at Violetta, I got quite a surprise. She stared at me, mouth agape and her eyes looked glossy. She seemed upset.

My smile left and I frowned. I didn’t understand her reaction. Did she not want me messing with her mandolin after all? Why would she say ‘please do’ if she didn’t? She got up, went down the half dozen steps, and quickly walked, then ran toward a barn. It was twilight, the sun having set a few minutes previous.

I noticed her shadowy form standing on the north side of the barn. Her arms were wrapped across her chest, clutching her upper arms as she hugged herself. Her shoulders shook as she wept. I quietly said, “Violetta?”

She jumped and spun, wiping quickly at her cheeks. She was embarrassed and barked, “What?”

“Um, I’m sorry, you should have just said you didn’t want me to play your mandolin.”

“It’s not that,” she said testily. Then flipping a switch, she spoke softly, “You played that perfectly.”

I shrugged. “I am a professional musician… So why did I upset you?”

“You didn’t. It’s just, well, my brother James would get obsessed with a song and play it over and over. ‘Maggie May’ was one of those songs. Because of this, Mom got him that mandolin for his sixteenth birthday. He played pretty well, but not flawless like you just did. Not long after he died, I was in his room plinking away with it. Cricket came in, hugged me, and insisted that I should keep it.”

She went quiet and I struggled for something to say. Then came up with something brilliant. “Oh.”

“Sorry,” she laughed through a tremor in her vocals. “It’s just, as I watched you play it, I wondered… If he were still alive, he might just have gotten to the point where he played it like you just did.”

“I’m sure he would have,” I replied. Then we both went awkwardly quiet. Then I thought to ask. “Where’s Cricket tonight?”

I was surprised when a little smile played at her lips. “You have a thing for Cricket, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a frown. “I admit, I have never met anyone quite like her. She’s so saintly.”

“Tell me about it. Do you know what it was like growing up with a big sister who seemed to do no wrong?”

I almost said ‘what about her growing up with a little sister that was exceptionally pretty?’ But I got the vibe that Violetta was one of those people that felt cursed for being remarkably attractive. So I kept my comment centered on Cricket. “That’s why it feels weird finding her so attractive.”

“You do?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

“Why is that surprising? Cricket is quite lovely and her personality seems to glow with beauty.”

“Well, you should keep your admiration to yourself,” she said cooly. “You two are as about right for each other as oil is with water.”

“Who is right for me? You?”

“Me?” She laughed sarcastically. Right when she said me, one of those street light lamps right above us came on. It was one of those that automatically triggered when it got so dark. In the pale light she looked incredibly beautiful. Those big eyes, her red-gold hair pulled back into a long braid, her fox like nose, and silky smooth lips.

I may have been a brand new Christian, but the old baggage didn’t suddenly disappear. The two dreams I had about the Karr sister were fresh on my mind. How real the dreams were! Getting passionate with Cricket in the night vision, only to discover it was Waffle I was slurping tongues with. And a couple nights before that, kissing Violetta, only to awaken with my mouth on the crook of my arm.

Her tongue darted across her upper lip, and I took it for a sign. I stepped toward her with puckered lips. She stepped back, put a hand on my chest and gave a gentle shove. Her voice was actually lighthearted as she rejected me. “Back off, Romeo, I don’t know where your mouth has been.”

Waffle instantly flashed into my mind. Her bulging eyes and lolling tongue as I pushed her away from me upon waking. I surprised myself by saying, “Isn’t that the truth?”

She frowned inquisitively. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” I replied.

She eyed me curiously. Despite her rejecting my advance, I was seeing a different side of Violetta. Discovering her sobbing opened up a sad, vulnerable side to the woman I hadn’t seen before. Although it was my intention to not tell a soul about my incident with Waffle, I felt compelled to bring some merriment to this depressed soul.

“If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said with a casual shrug.

I didn’t feel comfortable with how matter of fact she was, so I ordered. “Cross your heart and hope to die?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” she repeated. Then she added, “Stick a needle in my eye.”

“You don’t have to do that, that’s gross.”

“Good, now tell me.”

I related the dream. I shared waking and discovering that it was not Cricket, but Waffle I had been getting friendly with. Violetta began to laugh. Her gaiety intensified and she went to her knees, clutching her stomach. There was an old, 60’s era abandoned pickup truck next to the barn, and I sat on the open tailgate.

Although I was enjoying her joviality, I watched her with a blank expression. When her laughter began to subside, she began to arise from her knees. When she caught my exasperated gaze with arched eyebrows, her merriment reignited. It must have been even stronger this time, because she not only returned to her knees, she rolled onto her side.

A few minutes later, she was back on her knees. “It’s been a long time since I laughed so hard it hurt. Thanks for sharing that with me.”

“My pleasure… Actually, your pleasure.”

She sat next to me on the tailgate, sighing and wiping her eyes. Then she began to giggle and said. “Poor Waffle… Do you have any other interesting dreams to relate?”

Then I heard myself telling about the dream I had of her, and waking with my mouth in the crook of my arm. I was chuckling and looked at her expectantly. I didn’t think she would be laughing like she did with Waffle, but I was surprised to see an utterly serious expression.

Oh no, I thought, that was a mistake. But then she surprised me further. “I changed my mind, let’s try the real thing.”

“Huh?” I replied, dumbfounded.

Then her mouth was on mine. No sooner had my surprise worn off and she pushed away from me, hopping off the tailgate. I grabbed her hand and pulled her into my arms. Then I thought, ‘oh no, she’s gonna punch me or something!’ But she giggled and said, “Sully, we can’t betray Waffle cheating on her like this!”

Cradling Violetta in my arms, I kissed her again. Surprising me yet again, she kissed me back. But the pleasure lasted only seconds. A voice called out, “Violetta?”

Then a flashlight shone, capturing us in our hug and kiss. Our lips separated and our embrace broke as we looked into the stunned face of Cricket as she stepped under the street lamp.