Tag: fiction

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 2

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 2

DR. PENNY ALDO DVM

I SAW THAT WISDOM IS BETTER THAN FOLLY, JUST AS LIGHT IS BETTER THAN DARKNESS (Ecclesiastes 2:13)

            I didn’t mean to spy on my eighteen year old daughter. I never intended to invade Ivy’s privacy. But on a camping trip with my husband and our two boys, thirteen year old Jerry and twelve year old Drew, I got a pretty bad headache. A couple pain relievers helped, but they made me long for bed. But not in our camper.

            Maybe I shouldn’t have referred to camping as a trip. A trip sounds far away. We were on a camping outing with three other families from church, and the grounds weren’t even five miles from our house. So I bowed out just as the late July sun was setting, and I drove home to sleep in my own bed.

            Rory and Ivy had intended to go to fireworks with their boyfriends. So when I arrived home at about eight thirty, the house was locked. I slid my key into the doorknob and twisted. I was a little surprised to hear music coming from downstairs. It wasn’t blaring, but it was loud enough that Ivy and her best friend hadn’t heard me.

            Since Rory and my daughter had met three years previous, they had become inseparable. From the time she was five until she was fifteen, Ivy had been best friends with my niece, Crystal. Technically, I was Crystal’s Great Aunt, since she is my sister’s granddaughter.

            Crystal and Ivy had a major disagreement back in 2010. Ivy had been upset that Crystal began to drink socially and began to cross intimacy lines with the boy she had been seeing. Ivy had rebuked her sixteen year old cousin and hence came a falling away. Although they reconciled, their rift had caused a shift in their relationship, and they rarely hung out thereafter.

            I had mixed feelings over the whole ordeal. On one hand I was very disappointed to see the dissolving of a long friendship. On the other hand, I was pleased with Ivy for her moral stand and being courageous enough to voice her concern. But only a few months later, she brought home Rory, and her concerns about her cousin seemed a bit contradictory.

            I was confused. Ivy had chastised Crystal for risky behavior, then befriended a girl that looked multiple times more dangerous than my niece. But over the weeks and months that Ivy and Rory hung out and studied the Bible, Rory began to change.

            True religion is about relationship. Real relationship is about free will. Despite Rory’s wild appearance and sullen demeanor, most of the people in our church, and everybody in our family, accepted Rory just as she was. But it wasn’t long before the hard core rock and roll shirts disappeared as well as her black fingernails. Her dyed black hair grew out to her natural brown, matching her lovely eyes.

            Although Rory was a year older than Ivy, she was in the same grade. With all the moving and changing schools she did being a military daughter, she ended up a year behind.  I’m not gonna say brat, that would be the pot calling the kettle black.

            Over the first two years of their friendship, Rory often attended church with us and was even baptized. Eventually a couple nice young men that were a grade older began to occasionally attend with the young ladies. Before they went off to college, the boys gave the girls promise rings. That’s what made what I saw that fourth of July all the more puzzling.

            During their senior year of high school, Ivy and Rory decided to go to the same college as their boyfriends. They also subtly began to withdraw from church activities that last year of high school. By that summer we were lucky to see them once a month at a service or midweek prayer meeting.

            I followed the music downstairs. Sitting by the sliding glass doors of our walk out basement on a pillow chair was Ivy and Rory. Ivy was six inches taller than Ivy’s five foot four. She was also ten or fifteen pounds heavier than Rory’s one hundred and ten. So Rory being smaller, was leaning back into Ivy.

            I stood dumbfounded as I studied the situation. They were fully clothed, which was a plus. Also, there was only one chair pillow, so this was the best way they could share. Another thing, they had boyfriends, with whom they were supposed to be seeing the fireworks. So where were they and why weren’t they on their way to see the fireworks?

            The stairwell was behind them, and I ever so slowly began to back up. I would reenter and make enough noise for them to hear me. But before I made it back to the stairs, I saw Ivy hook Rory’s shoulder length hair behind ear. Then she gave her ear a little nibble, causing Rory to giggle, slap Ivy’s thigh, and say ‘Stop it, that tickles.’

            My heart was pounding, and my knees felt weak. I slipped on the first step of the carpeted stair, making a thump. At the same time, Rory flipped around, kneeling in front of Ivy. I thought for sure she saw me. But grinning she said, “This is better.”

            Rory closed her eyes and kissed Ivy on the mouth. I retreated as quickly and quietly as I could. Panting slightly at the front door, I opened it, and slammed it back shut. I threw my keys on the kitchen table, making a clatter. I said loudly, “Ivy, are you home?”

            The music from downstairs went silent, and my daughter petitioned me cautiously from the bottom of the stairs, “Mom?”

            “Hi honey, I thought you were going to the fireworks?”

            “Oh, well, we were, but we got into a bit of a disagreement with the guys, and, well, I guess were pouting,” she explained and then emitted a little laugh. “And I thought you were camping?”

            “I got a headache and just wanted to sleep in my own bed.”

            “The bed in your camper is your own bed,” she joked.

            I marveled at how calm she was. Maybe I was making too much out of what I thought I saw. Maybe the girls were just clowning around. Maybe I was in denial. Maybe I just didn’t want to deal with it.

            “True, it is my bed in the camper,” I told her. “But comparing that bed with my at home bed, is like comparing a Lazy boy with a fold up chair.”

            “Your bed in the camper is that bad?” She frowned.

            “No, but it’s not a Sleep Number either… So, what type of disagreement did you have with the boys?”

            She shrugged a shoulder, “They wanted to go to a party instead of fireworks.”

            “So how come you and Rory didn’t want to go to the party?”

            “Truth is, I was the party pooper. Rory was willing to go.”

            “How come you weren’t?”

            “They guys started drinking some since they’ve been in college. I’ve read my birth mom’s diaries, or journals, or whatever you want to call them. It seems adult beverages led to drugs, and drugs led to her taking off her clothes for a living.”

            “You are wise beyond your years,” I said smiling at her, and putting a gentle hand on her cheek. I was beginning to think that I was jumping to conclusions with what I thought I saw with her and Rory.

            “Oh hi, Mrs. Aldo,” Rory said meekly as she appeared in the stair well.

            I had convinced Rory to stop calling me Mrs. Aldo more than two years ago. It was now strange to hear her call me something other than Penny. Being referred to as Mrs. Aldo by her suggested guilt. And the guilty look on her face caused suspicion to resurface.

            “Hello, Aurora,” I replied.

            She frowned, then smirked with paranoia in her eyes. “You haven’t called me Aurora in a long time.”

            “You haven’t called me Mrs. Aldo in a long time.”

            “Oh, well, I just, ah, woke up from a nap.”

            “Did you?” I replied, crossing my arms, and then turned my gaze onto Ivy. I’d never known my daughter to lie. “Were you napping too?”

            She had a stunned look on her face as she stared at Rory. But then she calmly looked at me and said, “I was watching the sunset.”

            I told myself not to press it but asked, “While Rory napped?”

            Now she crossed her arms and frowned. “Mom, what’s the big deal? I just told you we didn’t go to a party because there was drinking. Now you’re giving us the third degree like we stayed here to shoot meth or something.”

            “You’re right, I’m sorry,” I said smiling and touching her arm.  “Forgive me, I’m tired and have a headache. I need to go to bed.”

            She gave me a reassuring smile and then kissed my cheek.

            The following morning, my headache was gone, but with the thermometer mercury rising on another hot day, I refrained from returning to the campground. Early in the afternoon Arlo walked into the house with a disgusted look on his face. He asked, “How’s your headache?”

            “All better.”

            “Good, do you want mine?”

            “Do you have a headache now?”

            “Yes, your son. He pushed Ben Weaver into the lake. His family happened to be camping there too.”

            Ben Weaver was a notorious bully who our son Jerry had clashed with a couple times. One of them leading to a three day school suspension.

            “Why did Drew do that?” I asked with a little smile. Ben Weaver, fifteen, was also the son of a local high school gym teacher and the head football coach.

            “You know better than that, although Drew is definitely not innocent.”

            I had in fact been joking. Our oldest son Jerry was thirteen and rapidly gaining a broad shouldered, muscular build like Arlo. He was also athletic and very coordinated. But he was quick tempered like his mother. He was loyal unto death, and fiercely loved his little brother, whom I suspected had something to do with Ben Weaver going into the drink.

            Our younger son Drew, age twelve, had the even keel demeanor of his father, but was bold in speaking truth. He also had a quick witted tongue and was on the small side physically like me. Eventually he would go on a growth spurt, but would still remain Jerry’s little brother, other than by age.

            “What Father said is true, Mother,” Drew spoke up with a James Bond type elegance. Then he sat on a kitchen chair and crossed one leg over the other. “It was I who instigated the bruhaha.”

            I put a hand over my mouth as if pondering. But I was really hiding a grin.  

            He brushed a strand of sandy blonde hair from his eyes and continued, “We had crossed paths earlier at the outing and he threatened me about staying away from his tree fort in Baylor’s woods. I saw his mom walking up behind him, and I asked why he had all those pictures of nude men hanging on the walls of his fort. He practically shouted that it was nude WOMEN he had hanging on the walls of his fort. His mother found this rather interesting and grabbed him by the ear, guiding him back to their camper to have a talk with his father.”

            “Were you really snooping around his tree fort?” The grin now having left my face.

            “I was.”

            “He did have a good reason, Mom,” Jerry defended. Then Drew defended him. I have to say, my boys were each other’s brother’s keepers.  

            “So a little while ago, Ben found me strolling by the lake,” Drew explained. “I guess he thought I needed a bath, but my dear brother helped me change the fates. He saw Ben moving rapidly in my direction and intercepted.”

            “May I ask why you were snooping around his tree fort to begin with?” I inquired with hands on hips for affect.

            “You know how your cat Buttons has been missing for four or five days,” Jerry said, and then looked at his little brother. Drew said, “I have reason to believe Ben Weaver used Buttons in some type of occult ritual.”

            My hand went to my mouth again. But this time it wasn’t hiding a grin.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 1

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 1

ARLO ALDO

A MAN’S STEPS ARE OF THE LORD; HOW THEN CAN A MAN UNDERSTAND HIS OWN WAY? (Proverbs 20:24)

            It’s a strange thing to see your name on a tombstone. But there it was, engraved into the silvery granite. Penny’s name was just to the right of mine. But neither she nor I were dead, otherwise I wouldn’t be looking at my gravestone. For the dead don’t know anything (Ecclesiastes 9:5, 10).

            Just to the left of our tombstone was Elsa’s, my former girlfriend and mother of my daughter, Ivy. Unfortunately, she was deceased. It had been ten years since Penny and I had purchased the two stones from Big Al, a former classmate of Penny’s.

            Despite the name, Big Al wasn’t shady. He was about six foot five inches, close to four hundred pounds, but as gentle as a lamb. He was well suited to deal with grieving people. As a matter of fact, he was so soothing to Penny as we discussed the engravings for Elsa’s stone, she spontaneously suggested that she and I get a stone as well.

            When it got the part about mother of Ivy, Penny whimpered. Big Al took one of her hands in his meaty paw, making it look like a little girl’s hand. He gently patted it with his other hand, and with eyes welling said, “There, there.”

            But it was a few minutes before that, when we overheard Big Al on the phone with a creditor that lit the fire in my fiery, compassionate wife. So when he said “There, there,” she responded, “How about Arlo and I get a stone in addition to Elsa’s?”

            He didn’t try to talk us out of it. Penny also hired him to clean and reengrave preexisting stones from both sides of our family, church family, and a few friends. But that was okay, we were far from hurting financially, and Big Al wasn’t the type to take a handout.

            I looked from my tombstone to my fifteen year-old daughter, Ivy. Joking with her, I said, “Did you bring me here so I would see where I’m gonna end up after driving with you?”

            “Not funny, Dad,” she said, despite giggling.

            Ivy had acquired a learner’s permit, and after practicing in a parking lot, we ventured to the open road. She asked where we should go, and I said wherever you want. I guess since it was Memorial Day, she chose to visit the cemetery where several family members were laid to rest. It also happened to be just a quarter of a mile down the country road from Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship.

            Ivy’s gaze went past me, and I watched the merriment evaporate from her face. I turned to look and there was a girl about thirty yards away sitting cross legged in front of a tombstone.

            “Do you know that girl?” I asked.

            “Yeah, she’s my lab partner in biology.”

            I glanced at the girl in time to watch her take a drag on a cigarette. She seemed pretty young to be smoking. I was glad that there was only one week of school left. Ivy was a good hearted young woman, but rather impressionable. “Do you like her?”

            Ivy shrugged her shoulder casually, running a hand through her hair. “Sure, she’s pretty quiet though. But I discovered we do have some things in common.”

            The girl stood, stepped on her cigarette and began to walk both toward and away from us as she angled to a patch of woods adjoining the cemetery. Being Memorial Day weekend there were enough people roaming around so she didn’t notice Ivy. But my daughter called out, “Hey Rory.”

            The dark haired, dark eyed girl with pale skin stopped. When she saw Ivy, her stony face lit up and she gave a little wave. Her large eyes were heavily mascaraed. She had multiple piercings in her ears, also one in her nose, one in her lip, and two in her left eyebrow. Her jeans were fashionably ripped and underneath a faded red flannel shirt that was unbuttoned, I noticed a black Marilyn Manson t-shirt.

            What did Ivy have in common with this combination goth and grunge girl? She was her polar opposite. Ivy had short blonde hair, blue eyes, a tan, an athletic build, and liked contemporary Christian music.

            I didn’t think of myself as judgmental, having spent many years playing in a dark heavy metal band. And after Eli and I both publicly renounced and repented of our former lifestyle, I had patiently and understandingly counseled many a misguided youth. But as I watched my daughter getting chummy with this girl Rory, who smoked cigarettes at fifteen or sixteen years of age, I felt my body tense. Was there anything else she smoked?

            They talked for ten or fifteen minutes, and I meandered from one grave to another reading the names and dates. But I was more interested in my daughter and her classmate as I gave many a sideways glance. Then they exchanged numbers, and I whispered to my myself, “Oh Lord, help her to be wise as a serpent and harmless as a dove.”

            As Ivy and I strolled toward my maroon Dodge Charger, Ivy told me in a secretive tone. “That was her mom’s grave that she was sitting in front of.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah,” she repeated, and then a troubled look came onto her face before she added, “She died of drug overdose when Rory was only four.”

            “Wow, that’s a shame,” I replied, and meant it.

            “Yeah, she was pretty blown away when I told her I was four when my mom died.”

            “You were almost five,” I said, and then realized I was trying to somehow distance her from what I suspected could be a dangerous relationship. “I don’t ever remember you talking about a Rory before.”

            Ivy was a freshman at a small town high school, about ten miles outside of the thriving metropolis of Cedar Rapids. So I knew almost all of her classmates.

            “Her name is actually Aurora, but she goes by Rory. After her mom died, she lived with her dad and stepmom. Her dad is career army, so she moved around a lot. They don’t get along very well, so he sent her to live with his mother about halfway through this last school year.”

            “I see,” I replied, paused, and asked, “Did I see you two exchange numbers?”

            “Ah huh.”

            “Ya know, Ivy, I don’t think…”

            Ivy giggled and interrupted. “I wondered if you were gonna freak out. She’s not as wild as she looks though.”

            “Oh yeah? Well that wasn’t fake smoke I saw coming out of her mouth. I wasn’t even smoking at fifteen.”

            “She’s sixteen.”

            “Oh, okay, why didn’t you say so?” I replied with good natured sarcasm.

            She giggled some more. I actually took this as a good sign and was grateful we had a close enough relationship to be able to talk about some hard things. Yet her bringing Rory into our lives would eventually bring some discomfort that was awkward to discuss.

            “I’ve talked to her at school about smoking, and she said she is going to quit. She also said she’s interested in coming to church. And she has listened to your music.”

            Thinking of Rory’s t-shirt, I blurted. “That’s not good.”

            Ivy giggled yet again. “Not your first band, your second.”

            She was referring to the band Eli and I called From Baal to the Bible. Our first CD we called Psalm 51. A Psalm of repentance. The group also included Eli’s son Ethan on vocals, and Ethan’s wife Amy on drums.

            “Oh, well, my bad. But I don’t know if you noticed the t-shirt she was wearing under her flannel shirt.”

            “I noticed, but I think that’s just a left over from her rebelling against her dad.”

            “Remember what I always tell you.”

            Ivy rarely behaved like a typical teenager, but she now rolled her eyes before saying. “You are either influenced, or an influencer. Be an influencer.”

            Now I would have giggled, but being a large muscular man, I chuckled instead. “That’s right!”

            “And that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m trying to witness Christ’s love to her.”

            “Very good, sweetheart. Now let’s get a move on cuz your brothers and Adam have baseball games at four.”

            I was referring to her two half siblings, ten year old Jeremiah, who we called Jerry and his Irish twin, nine year old Andrew, who we called Drew. Adam was my best friend Eli’s ten year old son. Since his mother was Penny’s sister Ariel, that made Adam and Ivy cousins, although not by blood. This would become a serious factor many years later.

            When I first discovered that I was going to be a father, I didn’t know then that I already was a father. My previous longtime girlfriend didn’t want me involved in Ivy’s life the first few years of her existence. But when I first knew Penny was pregnant, I thought of Jeremiah 1:5, about God knowing a person before one was even in the womb. The last part of the verse gave me an overwhelming feeling that my child was to be a person of God, possibly a prophet to the nations. So if we had a boy, I asked Penny if we could name him Jeremiah.

            She agreed, but it was our second son, Drew, who showed signs of being a man of God early on. Jerry became somewhat rebellious as he exited preteen years, even beyond typical teen angst. And Ivy, although a well behaved girl, and excellent student, had me concerned during the years that followed befriending Rory.

            During spring break there seemed to be a rift between Ivy and her best friend Crystal. She is Eli and Ariel’s granddaughter. The spat seemed to have been over a boy. At first I thought  Ivy had a crush on him herself. But my wife said Ivy was upset that Crystal was spending more time with him instead of her. So Ivy had been in a bit of a funk ever since.

            Now after her chat with Rory, even the girl’s name sounded a little wild, Ivy seemed quite bubbly. This may sound odd, but I didn’t know if that was a good thing. Relationships are complex. Teenage friendships are often volatile, especially if troubled backgrounds are involved.

            I didn’t want to be judgmental. But I am a father, and my judgment is crucial. My fifteen year old daughter was befriending a sixteen year old girl, who was in our community because of a rift between her and her father. This division with her dad was intense enough for her to move in with her grandmother. She also smokes and wears the t-shirt of a professed satanist who rips Bibles apart on stage.

            Ivy felt like you have to meet people where they are to witness. Okay, true enough. But influence can work both ways. Penny and I would intensify our prayers. We would try to chaperone this friendship as much as possible. But Ivy was rapidly becoming a woman, and with that there would be more and more independence.

            You can’t have love without free will. But free will, combined with youth and a fallen world, is a dangerous cocktail.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 20

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 20

PENNY

FOR WHAT IS YOUR LIFE? IT IS EVEN A VAPOR THAT APPEARS FOR A LITTLE TIME AND THEN VANISHES AWAY. (James 4:14)

            “Well, don’t you two look cozy?” I heard my sister say to Eli and Elsa with hands planted firmly on her hips.

            I had been walking behind Ariel toward the playground at Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship. Actually, at eight months pregnant, and being smaller than average, I was more likely waddling behind her. As I came up next to my sister, I witnessed Elsa jerk from being startled and then standing abruptly. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She stumbled, winced, and caught herself on the back of the bench.

            It was then I realized just how strong and stoic Elsa had been behaving. She had not been letting on how poorly she actually felt. She had been considerably weakened by the cancer that was eating away at the insides of her body.

            This realization dawned on my sister as well as I watched her bite her lower lip, and then step quickly to Elsa, taking both of her hands in hers. Smiling, she downplayed the initial jealousy she had felt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you two. And I was just, you know, joking by that comment.”

            “It’s okay,” Elsa returned a weak smile. Then she glanced at Eli, who was now standing with his thumbs hooked into his jeans pockets looking strangely vulnerable. “I’d like to explain. As we watched the children play I was, I don’t know, overcome with an overwhelming fear and sadness that I won’t be able to see Ivy grow up.”

            “No, no, I understand,” Ariel said as she wiped at tears coming out of her own eyes.

            I felt my eyes welling up also and noticed Mr. Cool detach a thumb from his pocket to pinch the bridge of his nose. Elsa laughed, even as more tears came. “This is so embarrassing. I normally like to have my little break downs privately after I put Ivy to sleep.”

            “Hey, what’s going on?” Arlo boomed. Then his face fell when he noticed the weeping foursome. He moseyed over to Eli. “Dude, are you crying?”

            “No,” Eli barked. “It’s allergies or something.”

            “Come on dude, don’t lie. You’re gonna be baptized tomorrow. If Jesus wept, no guy should ever be ashamed.”

            “You’re right, I’m sorry. Truth is, I guess we’re all felling emotional over Elsa’s situation.”

            “I’m  sorry,” Elsa said with a meek laugh. Her stoicism had returned with her chin lifted. “But I can’t thank you all enough for all the caring and kindness every one of you has shown me since I’ve been here.”

            I stepped toward Elsa and smiling at her, gave her hand a squeeze. She smiled back and hugged me tightly. Over the next several weeks and months, she and I developed a strong bond. I don’t mean to sound morbid or selfish, but I doubted that Arlo’s ex and myself would have become so close if it wasn’t for her deadly disease. And the mostly unspoken fact that I would one day be in the mothering role for her daughter.

            Our extra close bond was also initiated by Elsa. She sought my company more than anyone else’s. No pun intended with Elsa and Else’s. I think it was divine wisdom given to her. Mother’s intuition if you please. She already knew Arlo would love and care for their daughter, so her motherly instinct wanted to make sure the woman taking over that role for her was worthy.

            To me it was the greatest honor and responsibility that I was ever faced with. I did everything I could to reassure her that I was humbled and took the idea of Ivy becoming my daughter very, very, seriously.

            That evening there was a special prayer meeting. Before Pastor Samson, AKA Captain Kirk, closed it out, he asked if anyone else would like to be baptized the next day. I felt like it was a gentle nudge, directed at Elsa. Yet the Pastor’s clear blue eyes stared just over the top of everyone’s head. Then Elsa tentatively raised her hand.

            “Elsa, are you interested in the rite of baptism?” Captain Kirk asked happily.

            “Yes, Sir,” she replied meekly.

            “Wonderful!” he beamed.

            “I do have a question though. I believe most of what Penny and Arlo have been teaching me about the Bible. But what if I’m doing this selfishly, you know, like some sort of insurance policy because, well, obviously my time is short?”

            “Well, my Dear, I’d say Jesus is the best insurance policy one could acquire,” Captain Kirk told her. “And His salvation is free of charge. All you have to do is ask.”

            “But the truth is,” she continued as she wrung her hands. “I’m sure I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m dying. I wouldn’t have contacted Arlo if I wasn’t dying. I wouldn’t have been in that Christian bookstore and saw Arlo and Eli on the cover if I wasn’t dying. So you see, in light of that, there’s an element about me getting baptized that seems disingenuous.”

            “To be honest with you, Elsa,” Captain Kirk said. “Your situation reminds me of the thief on the cross.”

            “Hopefully not the one who rejected Jesus,” Elsa said with a little smile. We all laughed.

            “No, my Dear, the other,” the Pastor replied with a chuckle. “But who’s to say facing death wasn’t part of his motivation as well? And not only did Jesus forgive him, He reassured him that he would be with Him in paradise.”

            “Yeah, I suppose so,” Elsa said, yet frowned and looked away from the Pastor’s gaze.

            “I hope this doesn’t in anyway sound insensitive, Sister Elsa,” Captain Kirk continued. “But you’re not dead yet.”

            “And we will all be praying for a miracle,” Ariel piped up. I knew my sister pretty well and could tell that she still felt guilty about confronting Elsa and Eli the previous day.

            Elsa’s smile was sad, yet peace was in her eyes. “I’ve already experienced a miracle, by finding you people before it was too late.”

            We were all somber and quiet for a moment. Then Ethan, with his rich, deep voice, began to sing. “Just as I am without one plea, but that Thy blood was shed for me. And that Thou bid’st me come to Thee. Oh Lamb of God I come, I come.”

            I got a lump in my throat, but regardless, I joined a few others in joining Ethan.

            “Just as I am, though tossed about with many a conflict many a doubt fighting with fears within and without. Oh Lamb of God I come, I come.”

            “Just as I am, Thou wilt receive, wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve. Because of thy promise I believe. Oh Lamb of God, I come, I come.”

            I had seen images of Elsa’s so called work. The sexy, devilish vixen contrasted sharply with the woman that emerged from the baptismal waters of Cotton Creek. After Captain Kirk helped her rise from the watery grave, representing newness of life, eternal life, the light of heaven seemed to shine on her face as she smiled and gazed up at the bright blue sky with a twinkle in her lovely blue eyes.

            Newness of life. Terminal illness. What an extreme contradiction.

            Although countless prayers for a miracle were offered on Elsa’s behalf, she passed away six months to the day of her baptism. My heart was never as broken as seeing Ivy sit between Arlo and me at Elsa’s funeral. Ivy’s head was bowed, and her hands were clasped between her knees. Her five month old brother was in my arms cooing after snacking at my breast.

            Ivy smiled at him, looked at me, and held out her arms. I carefully placed little Jeremiah, who we were already calling Jerry, into Ivy’s arms. When she very sweetly kissed his forehead, I almost choked on the lump in my throat. I turned my gaze onto Captain Kirk at the pulpit before I coughed out a sob. I heard Ariel sniff behind me, and knew she had witnessed the same loving gesture by the little girl who would turn five a couple weeks after her mother’s funeral.

            Pastor reassured us that although Elsa’s life was cut way too short, she had accepted Christ and eternal life just in time. He spoke of her courage and witness in her remaining months after her baptism. Then he shared 2 Corinthians 12:9 with us. But instead of hearing the Pastor, I heard Elsa asking me to read that very verse to her.

            It was the last time I saw her alive. We had set up a hospital bed in the guest room of my house. After we married, Arlo had moved out of Mrs. Mendelbright’s bed and breakfast and into my modest ranch house. Her time was now very short with a hospice nurse constantly near. Now, surrounded by those who loved her during her last minutes, she beckoned me. In an almost inaudible voice, she petitioned me to read what Captain Kirk had now quoted as well.

            “And He said to me,” I began. “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness. Therefore most gladly will I rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

            She began to speak to me, but it was so soft I had to bend closer. She repeated. “Thank you for loving my little girl.”

            “It is my supreme honor,” I replied, stroking her matted blonde hair.

            “I love you like the sister I never had,” she whispered.

            “I love you too, Elsa, very much.”

            Then her face stilled. She was gone. Her eyes were still on mine, and in them was a peace I can’t explain, and will never, ever will forget.

             We are all terminal and bound by time. Some are granted long life, some short. We see through a glass darkly now (1 Corinthians 13:12). But in the scope of eternity Elsa’s thirty-eight years compared to my grandmother’s eighty-eight years is actually insignificant when the day comes when God wipes away all tears. (Revelation 21:4)

            Captain Kirk concluded with these words. “Compared to eternity with Christ and reunited with our loved ones, our time on this planet, no matter how short or long, will seem like a night in a bad hotel.”

            Amen, Pastor, and rest in peace, Elsa.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 19

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 19

ELI

BEARING WITH ONE ANOTHER, AND FORGIVING ONE ANOTHER, IF ANYONE HAS A COMPLAINT AGAINST ANOTHER; EVEN AS CHRIST FORGAVE YOU, SO YOU ALSO MUST DO (Colossians 3:13)

            “Hey, Eli,” Elsa greeted, looking at me hesitantly as she sat next to me.

            We were on a bench that overlooked a small playground behind Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship. We had just finished a rehearsal for the small impromptu double wedding ceremony for Penny, Arlo, Ariel and myself to take place the next day. I was watching my five year old granddaughter Crystal play with Elsa’s four year old daughter Ivy.

            “Hi, Elsa,” I greeted cheerily, even as my body tensed.

            She had been my best friend’s girlfriend for eight years. Their relationship was often stormy, and I’m afraid I was the last straw. Elsa had often been flirtatious with me over the years. I’m ashamed to say that not only did I not discourage the behavior, I often flirted back.

            But then the sexual tension between us came to a boiling point for her. She not only propositioned me, she tried to seduce me. As randy as I was back then, there was no way I would actually get physical with my best friend’s girl. So I told Arlo on her. It not only caused their biggest fight to date, it was the last nail in the coffin of their dying relationship.

            Until her greeting on that sunny afternoon in late May, the year of our Lord 2000, her last words to me had still echoed in my head. With an ugly look on her pretty face, she declared, “Ya know Eli, you’re a hypocrite! All of the times you’ve undressed me with your eyes, and commented on my work, so here I was very generously trying to give you the real thing and you turn traitor on me.”

            By me commenting on her work, she was referring to her occupation as a model and actress, which mostly entailed posing nude and soft core porn. Her rebuke stung and was one hundred percent accurate. For I had, even sometimes blatantly, encouraged her behavior, yet I let her take the fall. Then to make matters worse, I smirked at her with demonic pride, not saying a word. She spit in my face, turned on her stilettos, and I didn’t see her in person again until this day at the wedding rehearsal.

            I was tongue tied for a long moment. I had always fancied Elsa. I’m ashamed to say, if she was anybody’s girl but Arlo’s, I would have bedded her in a second. I guess you could say she and I had been friends, but the only bond we had besides Arlo was a mutual attraction. Now, several years later, I find out that she has a terminal illness. She spoke first after our greeting. “Sorry about spitting in your face.”

            I chuckled and shrugged. “I deserved it.”

            “I’d like to think you did. When you aimed that cocky smile at me, I wanted to do much more than just spit in your face. I had never been turned down by a guy that gave me such clear signs he desired me.”

            “I had never turned down a woman as beautiful as you. But Arlo is like family.”

            “I know that now more than ever.”

            “I owe you an apology as well,” I told her. “I was more guilty than you over our mutual lust, but I threw you under the bus to cover my own guilt and shame.”

            She glanced at me with an arched eyebrow. “That’s big of you to say, but I’m the one that made the physical proposition.”

            “But before that, I was the one being more suggestive. It was my behavior more than yours that led to, shall we say, you showing me your goods.”

            She looked at me with an inquisitively arched eyebrow. “You seem different, Eli.”

            “Yeah?” I replied with my own arched eyebrow. “Is that good or bad?”

            “Definitely good. Do you know how I ended up in Iowa?”

            “In your car.”

            “No, silly,” she laughed and then frowned. “Well, yeah, I guess I did. Maybe I should have said do you know why I ended up in Iowa?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “A week ago I was in a Christian bookstore, and low and behold, I see you and Arlo on the cover of a magazine. I bought it and read the interview three times. I couldn’t believe it! You and Arlo renouncing your Satanic band and talking about coming to Christ.”

            “So I assume you’ve become a Christian then?”

            Her gaze was pensive. “I don’t know, Eli. I’m scared. Not just for me, but for Ivy. I guess I was there looking for hope. I had already bought a Bible when I was pregnant with Ivy. But it can be hard to understand, so I wasn’t very devout in reading it. Then my cancer came back, and I wanted some direction, some hope. I never dreamed it would come from Arlo. I didn’t want him to know about her because of your band. But after reading the article about you two, I knew I needed to contact him.”

            “That’s weird. I thought he contacted you.”

            “That’s the miracle!” she beamed. “I tried, but his number had changed. I tried calling some people we both knew, but all they could tell me was that he left California. I knew he grew up in the Midwest, but in all the years we were together, we never went to his hometown.”

            “You never met any of his family?” I asked.

            “Oh sure, but they came to us. We never went to them, not even at Christmas. Anyway, so I actually tried to pray about it, and literally a half hour later, Arlo calls me! I couldn’t believe it! At first I thought he had gotten wind that he had a daughter, but he said he called to make amends for being a less than stellar boyfriend.

            “He told me where he was, and I told him I was only about four hours away in the Chicagoland area. I told him I needed to see him. He was skeptical. I think he thought I wanted to get back together, and he told me that it wouldn’t be a good idea to see each other. He said he had a fiancée and was gonna be married this weekend. So as much as I wanted to tell him in person, I had to tell him about my illness and his daughter over the phone.

            “He said he would come to me, but I wanted to see where my daughter might be living, and with whom besides Arlo. He had called at lunch time, so I threw some things together, and spur of the moment, we made a little road trip out here.”

            “Wow,” was all I could manage to say in response. I was a guitarist, not wordsmith.

We both looked at Crystal and Ivy, and then she sighed as she watched our children. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. My heart ached for her as I groped for something to say. A weary smile spread onto her face. “They sure seem to click, just like you and Arlo. His daughter, your granddaughter.”

            “Yeah, a couple little cuties came from a couple bruties.” Maybe I was a wordsmith after all.

            “I understand you had a similar experience as Arlo.”

            “You mean finding out you have a kid years after the birth. Yeah, it is similar. But thankfully Arlo found out much sooner.”

            “So you wish you would have known Ariel was pregnant back then?”

            “Yes and no. I was a selfish pig right up through the collapse of our band. So it was probably best for Ethan that we met as adults.”

            “I have to agree that you were a selfish pig.”

            I chuckled. “Tell me what you really think.”

            “I did,” she replied with a tilt of her head and a little smile. If you hadn’t known Elsa, you wouldn’t know she had a terminal illness. But her voluptuous body was now a bit frail. Her lovely face was getting slightly hollow in her cheeks, and there were light purple circles under her eyes.

            Her little jab at me gave me a Penny moment. By that I meant that I spoke a question that was on my mind but had no intention of broaching the subject. “Are you sure Ivy is Arlo’s?”

            I instantly regretted it, but she turned sad, patient eyes on me. “You know firsthand that I was a cheater. But God as my witness, Arlo was the only man I had sex with for several months before Ivy was conceived.”

            “I don’t know why I asked that,” I replied and then sort of put my foot in my mouth again. “Arlo would raise her even if she wasn’t. You know when you, um, well…”

            “Die,” she finished with a zombie like voice as she stared at the kids. Then a tear leaked from her eye. “Arlo is such a changed man.” Then she turned her eyes on me. “I mean not that he was ever as wild as you other three, but…”

            “I was a saint compared with Kyle and Izzy,” I said, placing a hand over my heart, half mocking myself and half serious.

            “I suppose, but even Ozzy Osbourne seemed tamer then Izzy. Ozzy may have bitten the head off of a bat, but Izzy chopped off his own hand and slit his own throat. And Kyle was like a walking pharmacy and liquor store. So my old friend, being less insane than them isn’t all that impressive of an achievement.”

            I chuckled but then grew serious. “Are we old friends?”

            “I hope so,” she said eyeing me thoughtfully, as she scratched her temple daintily with her index finger. “I mean we had that last bad spat and haven’t spoken in years. But I traveled to a hundred cities with you guys. I’d like to think you and I got to know each other beyond all the partying and flirting.”

            “Yeah, me too,” I replied, and then chuckled before a little confession. “Now that I have a conscience.”

            “You’ve always had a conscience, Eli. What do you think kept you from getting as out of control as Kyle and Izzy? Or telling Arlo I tried to seduce you?”

            “Self-preservation and loyalty.”

            “Wouldn’t they be elements of a conscience?”

            “It seems you’re no longer an atheist.”

            A pained look came onto her face. “I don’t know. I guess between having Ivy, having a deadly illness, and talking to Arlo, I’ve become something between agnostic and a believer. I mean, when faced with raising a little human being, and then facing death, my search for God has consisted mostly out of fear and anger.”

            “That’s understandable,” I replied. “I’ve had a similar experience, albeit different circumstances.”

            “So what were your circumstances?”

            “Well, the fear came in through nightmares. Dabbling with Satanism and the occult is dangerous, and we did considerably more than dabble. The anger came in simply through the false doctrine of eternal hellfire, which, oddly, most of Christianity embraces. I thought, how can a God of love torture people for eternity? But Arlo set met straight. In a nutshell, he gave me a Bible study showing me that the world is destroyed by fire. Kind of like Noah and the flood, only fire instead of water. But then he recreates it after the devil and his angels are destroyed in the lake of fire. So even the supernatural forces that created evil won’t be tortured permanently. Only the result is permanent. The wages of sin is death. (Romans 6:23)

            (For more information on the topic of Hellfire, lookup Amazing Facts ministry and request their study guide, ‘Is The Devil In Charge of Hell?’ There are also a couple dozen other study guides with topics ranging from who is the Antichrist to can you rely on the Bible?)

            “Yeah, Arlo shared a bit with me about that. But I still can’t get beyond running your life by a book that was written two thousand years ago.”

            “See, another similarity with you and me. I felt the same way. But once again, after Arlo showed me through prophecy that the Bible is as relevant today as when it was written. The one that stuck with me the most profoundly was form the book of Daniel, chapter 7 and verse 25 in particular. Keep in mind this was written about six hundred years before Christ was born.

            “It says that a power would appear on the world scene that would think to change times and laws. It was referring to the Sabbath, which is both about time and is the fourth commandment in the law of God. This happened in the fourth century, when Constantine made Christianity a legal religion. To accommodate sun worshippers, the Bible Sabbath was shifted from the seventh day to the Venerable Day of the Sun, also known as Sunday. But who is man to think to change God’s Holy Law?”

            Elsa was looking at me like I had two heads. In a strange way, I sort of did. For I wasn’t the same person I was when we last spoke. Yet I was still me. Two different characters in one person. Elsa even expressed this. “Are you really the wild guy I knew as Eli Endor?”

            “I was,” I chuckled. “But now I’m simply Elijah Alderson.”

            She looked away from me and at the two girls playing happily. A wistful look grew onto her face. She smiled. “I’m so glad I came here and got to meet everyone. Even the man formerly known as Eli Endor has been a sweetheart. You all have been such a balm to my hurting soul. I’m gonna try hard to embrace the side of me that believes.”

            “I’m so glad you came here too, Elsa. And as for embracing the side of you that believes, pray for the Holy Spirit to help you. He’s also known as the Comforter  (John 14:26 KJV). By the way, I hope you stay. I’d like to truly be your friend.”

            “I’d like that,” she squeaked. Then she put her face in her hands and began to whimper.

            This took me a little by surprise. On impulse, I gently put my arm around her. Once again, to my surprise, she leaned into me and her head rested in the crook of my neck. There was nothing sexual about our togetherness, but talk about a relationship that did a one eighty.

            It felt awkward at first with my arm around her, but then shifted when she stopped crying. “I’ve been so lonely Eli. My aunt has dementia, so I can’t truly talk to her about my feelings. I was so nervous coming here, worried on how I’d be perceived, given my past and all. Especially by you and Arlo’s fiancée. The only one I’m still not sure about is your woman.”

            “Oh, no worries about Ariel, she’s a sweetheart,” I said, and then realized something. “Although, when I found out you were coming, I did tell her about our history. I didn’t want her to find out from somebody other than me.”

            “So that’s why she’s been aloof around me.”

            “She’ll come around. She’s probably just sizing you up. She’s had a tough go of it this last year.”

            I’m not gonna say speak of the devil, even though I sort of just did. But my sweet lady’s’ calm, yet menacing voice sent a jolt through me when I heard Ariel say, “Well, don’t you two look cozy?”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 18

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 18

ARLO ALDO

RESTORE TO ME THE JOY OF YOUR SALVATION, AND UPHOLD ME BY YOUR GENEROUS SPIRIT (Psalm 51:12)

            My heart began to race as I saw the astonished look on my fiancée’s face. Her gaze kept rotating from me to my four year old daughter, and to my ex-girlfriend Elsa. We all seemed to be frozen by awkwardness. Finally Penny cleared her throat and said, “You have daughter?”

            “That’s what Elsa tells me.”

            Penny, the bluntest person I have ever met, says, “How do you know she’s telling you the truth?”

            Although I believed she was, it had crossed my mind that Elsa was mistaken, or even lying. Yet the little girl’s age would fit with the timeline of when she confronted me about the pregnancy and the desired abortion.

            I shrugged. “I don’t know, I just believe her.”

            “You had told me that you weren’t confident the child was yours when she told you she was pregnant. So what makes you so sure now?”

            “I guarantee you Arlo is Ivy’s father,” Elsa said matter of fact. “But it won’t hurt my feelings any if you want to get a paternity test.”

            Penny opened her mouth, and knowing her, I feared she was going to say I don’t care about your feelings. But then she closed it and frowned. Then she put a finger on her chin and eyed me suspiciously. Yet she was handling this situation with impressive calmness. “So when did you find out about Ivy?”

            “An hour ago.”

            Penny looked at Elsa. “Why now? Why didn’t you tell Arlo after you decided to keep the baby rather than aborting her?”

            “Not that I’m a saint by any means,” Elsa said. “But I was very uncomfortable thinking about my child’s father being part of a satanic rock group.”

            “But you were comfortable going to bed with a guy from a satanic rock group for what, eight years?”

            Elsa shrugged nonchalantly. “I was like nineteen when I started going with Arlo. People change. Like I said, I was no saint, he and I met at the Playboy mansion for goodness sake.”

            “So now you want Arlo to be a part of your daughter’s life?”

            “Yes, I do, very much so.”

            Penny crossed her arms abruptly and glared at me. “So what are you gonna do, move to California, or buy an airplane?”

            “Elsa doesn’t live in California anymore. She lives in the Chicago area with her aunt.”

            “She’s the only family I have left, and she getting up in years.”

            Penny looked stricken, and I felt my toes curl. To me Elsa made it sound like she was suggesting a menage a trois of some sort. It didn’t help as she continued.

            “If you guys are okay with it, Ivy and I could get a room right here at Mrs. Mendelbright’s for a while so you all could get acquainted with Ivy, and vice versa.”

            I opened my mouth to tell Penny the reason Elsa was extra eager for me to get to know my daughter,  but her voice won the race, and it bordered on hostility. No forget border, Penny was out right hostile.

            “Oh that would be wonderful!” Penny mocked. “I was supposed to get married the day after tomorrow, and my fiancée surprises me with his ex-girlfriend for our honeymoon!”

            It didn’t go beyond my notice that Penny said ‘was supposed to get married’ rather than ‘is going to get married’ the day after tomorrow. She stomped toward the door, and I grabbed her by the crook of her arm. “Penny, wait.”

            “Let go of me!” she said through gritted teeth as she jerked her arm free from my grasp. She slammed the door, and I cringed. Mrs. Mendelbright had about a dozen rooms in her large Victorian boarding house. Could people hear the dispute?

            I was frozen for a moment and glanced Elsa. Her eyes were wide with astonishment. “Arlo, I’m sorry I impulsively came here. I should have given you time to talk this over with Penny.”

            “It will be alright,” I reassured her. “Penny is a rather fiery person. But she’s also reasonable, compassionate, and smart. I’ll be back in a minute.”

            I burst out of Mrs. Mendelbright’s just in time to see the door of Penny’s truck slam shut. I sprinted over, reached through her open window, and shut off her truck.

            “Get away from me, Arlo,” she said as she restarted her truck. “Go make another baby with your ex-girlfriend.”

            I reached in to shut off her truck again. She grabbed my wrist and bit my hand. “Ow!”

            I jerked my hand out, and as her window went up, she barked, “The wedding’s off.”

            I made my way back to my room, grabbed my phone and told Elsa I would be a few more minutes. Once outside again, I tried to call Penny, but she didn’t answer. So I texted her. Back then we had flip phones and texting took a bit longer. And in my haste, it took even longer as I had to correct several typing mistakes.

            “Penny, please come back. I need to tell you something, and after I do I’m sure you will want to go back up and talk to Elsa. Please trust me.”

            Five minutes later I was pleased to see her drive back up. I wasn’t pleased to see the angry look on her face. Her window rolled down and she said, “This better be good.”

            Between the tension with Penny, finding out I had a daughter, and the horrible news Elsa had shared, I couldn’t control my emotions. Tears began to stream from my eyes, my lower lip quivered, and my voice cracked. “Penny, Elsa’s dying.”

            Her face looked stunned, and she softly tried, “Dying to do what?”

            “She’s dying, dying. As in she’s no longer gonna live. She has been given only a few months.”

            “I don’t understand.”

            “Not long after she had Ivy, it was discovered that she had breast cancer. It went into remission for more than a year, but just last week she found out that it had come back with a vengeance and has spread throughout her body.”

            She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh Arlo, I’m so sorry. I’ve never behaved like a bigger jerk in my life.”

            “That’s not true,” I said. She frowned at me, and it would have been funny if it wasn’t such a somber moment.

            She got out of her truck and gave me a quick hug. Then she made her way back to the house. She moved surprisingly quick for someone eight months pregnant. As we went through the door of my room, we discovered Elsa pacing, and Ivy still entranced by the cat.

            Elsa looked a little horror stricken as she froze and stared at Penny. But Penny displayed the intense compassion that are in spicey people that are Godly. She moved to Elsa and hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, Elsa. I behaved like a moron, but would you please forgive me?”

            Elsa laughed as she cried, and they separated. “No worries. It seems Arlo told you about my dilemma.”

            “Yes, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. We will do whatever we can to help you through this ordeal.”

            “Even raise my little girl?” Elsa asked and then sobbed.

            Penny hugged her again. “Sweety, I will love her like my own, I promise.”

            When they separated, we all looked at Ivy, blissfully happy, and blissfully unaware that her whole world was soon to be turned upside down.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 15

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 15

ELI

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

            There was a brisk knock on my door at Mrs. Mendelbright’s bed and breakfast, which had turned into a boarding house for Arlo and me. I was pleasantly surprised to see Ariel when I pulled open the door. But my pleasure was soon turned to tension.

            She pushed past me as she stormed into my room, spun on her heel, and placed hands firmly on hips. With clenched teeth, she growled, “I’m so mad at you!”

            “What’d I do?” I asked innocently. I truly was surprised. Our relationship had turned intimate a couple months ago, and we both seemed to be on cloud nine. So what had upset the apple cart?

            She changed gears as her pinched face softened, and her clenched teeth turned into a menacing smile. She sauntered slowly over to me. “What did you do, you ask?”

            She gently looped her arms around my neck and her face positioned just two inches from mine. But hers was a creepy calm, not seductive. I knew no kiss was forthcoming, so I braced for her words, still baffled at what could be the reason for her anger.

            “Well, it’s like this, Mr. Alderson. I have just come from my doctor, and it seems that I’m pregnant. Would you care to explain how that happened?”

            Although I was stunned, I tried at a little levity. “Well, you see, when a man and woman come together like we have…”

            “Knock it off, Eli!” she barked as she shoved me. She then stomped to my sofa, plopped onto it, abruptly crossed her arms and one leg over the other. Then a finger shot up to an eye to wipe a tear away.

            I sat next to her and gently rubbed her knee. She was wearing her typical black leggings, with orange New Balance running shoes. She testily pushed my hand off. I put it back. She pushed it off. I put it back. She half laughed and half cried. “I’m forty years old; I don’t want any more babies. I’m even a grandmother!”

            “I don’t get it. I thought your tubes were tied,” I tried. “You had told me that before you and Doug got married, that you had gotten your tubes tied.”

            “No, I said I was going to, but Doug informed me that he was infertile. And you had told me that you had a vasectomy when you were twenty.”

            “I did, but I thought I told you I had it reversed a couple years ago… That’s why I was so excited to find out about Ethan. As I got older, I began to desire a heritage.”

            “Well, no, I think I would recall you telling me it was reversed, especially a couple months ago when we, you know.”

            “Well, if you recall a couple months ago, when we consummated our relationship, I told you I didn’t have a condom. Then you asked if I had any STD’s. After I said no, you said it was okay to proceed without one.”

            “Right, because I assumed you had been snipped.”

            “I had been, but like I said, it was reversed. When you told me it was okay to proceed, I thought it meant that you wouldn’t be getting pregnant.”

            “And when I said to proceed it was because I trusted that you wouldn’t be giving me an STD. You just gave me a baby instead.”

            “Wow, what a misunderstanding.”

            “So, it seems I’m pregnant due to lack of communication.”

            “I don’t know about lack of communication, just poor quality.”

            “Whatever!” she spewed, crossed her arms again and snorted. Her foot bobbed so intensely, I thought her shoe might fly off.

            “Well, which would you rather I had given you, herpes or a baby?”

            “Herpes,” she spit without hesitation.

            “Ya know, Ariel, I’m actually pretty excited,” I said with gentle smile.

            “Are ya!” she replied with a sarcastically ghoulish expression. “Ya know, I suppose I might feel better about it if you were gonna have a human being growing inside your stomach.”

            I frowned. “Don’t you mean womb?”

            “Oh, shut up!” she barked.

            “Look, Ariel, I’m truly sorry,” I said, and then we sat in silence for a long minute.

            I knelt in front of her and took both of her hands in mine. She didn’t jerk them away, which I was actually expecting. “Listen Ariel, I wasn’t here for you the first time, but I will be this time around. I have plenty of money, so you won’t have to work at the supermarket anymore. I’ll even hire a nanny. I’ll even marry you, with no prenup. You’ll be an instant millionaire after you say I do. You’ll get half if you decide to divorce me.”

            I was delighted to see hope and longing in her eyes. Now she smiled sweetly, no trace of sarcasm or bitterness. She asked, “Was that a proposal?”

            I shrugged and grinned, “Sure.”

            “How romantic,” she joked.

            “That’s what I’m known for.”

            “You’re known to be a womanizing rock star; that’s why my concern was STD’s over pregnancy.”

            With a serious expression, I said, “That’s not gonna be the case with the next chapter of my life… I love you, Ariel. I always have.”

            She put a hand to my cheek. “To be perfectly honest, I loved you, I hated you, and now I love you again.”

            “Okay, well, I could have done without the one in between.”

            “It’s the current one that counts.”

            “Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

            She sighed, stood, and began to pace. “I don’t know, Eli. Everything is happening so fast. What are people gonna think? My husband has only been gone for six months.”

            “It depends on your perspective. I think a lot can happen in half a year. Besides, it’s not like you met some random guy. I was your first boyfriend, and we made a child together. I also kept my distance after Doug passed away.”

            “Kept your distance? Maybe if you returned to California.”

            I stepped up to her. Her arms were crossed defiantly across her chest. I reached behind her head, took off her hair clip, and her long brown hair with a sprinkling of salt cascaded over her shoulders. Since she didn’t resist, I grabbed both of her wrists and placed them onto my shoulders. “Quit being a snot.”

            She gazed at me with hooded eyes and tried not to smile. This caused her to pout, and man did she ever look adorable. I brushed a strand of her hair off of her cheek and kissed her. After a minute she put both hands on my chest and shoved away, did a one eighty and walked toward the window. “Why are you so hard to resist?”

            I followed behind and spooned her. I kissed her cheek and said softly, “Why would you want to resist me?”

            “Because you tend to get me pregnant when I don’t,” she said bitterly.

            “I guarantee that you’re not gonna get anymore pregnant than you already are.”

            She spun around and put her hands on my throat as if to strangle me. She actually began to squeeze harder and harder. I laughed as I grabbed her wrists, and fortunately she laughed too.  We no sooner began kissing again, when a knock at my door made us both jump.

            It was our son and his wife. In the eight months I had been at Mrs. Mendelbright’s, he had only come over to my room a few times. We usually saw each other at band practice. He was grinning, so I grinned back. “Ethan, Amy, come in, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

            “Well, we…” He stopped short when he saw his mother, and his face registered surprise. “Mom, what are you doing here?”

            “Um,” was all she could manage. She looked like a deer in the headlights as she clasped her hands together, making her look even more guilty.

            Ethan smirked. “Is there something going with you two?”

            “Um,” Ariel and I uttered at the same time as we both looked at each other.

            Ethan started laughing and slapped his thigh. Looking at his wife he declared. “I told you they were item.”

            “Honey, we’ve just kind of been hanging out,” Ariel tried. Then she bit her thumb with an  anguished expression. “Well, to be honest, it’s a little more than hanging out. Actually a lot more now, I mean, ooooh, this so confusing.”

            “Mom, I think it’s wonderful!”

            “Really?”

            “Really.”

            “By the way, where’s Crissy?” Ariel asked. Was she purposely trying to change the subject?

            “Aunt Penny and Uncle Arlo are taking her for a pony ride.”

            I liked hearing him refer to my dear friend as Uncle Arlo. But Ariel had a slight edge in her voice when she corrected. “He’s not Uncle Arlo yet.”

            “A few days from now he will be,” Ethan shrugged. Then he looked at me and winked. “We stopped by your place first, Mom. Now I see why you weren’t home.”

            “Okay, Sonny Boy,” Ariel said as she put her hands on her hips. “What are you making the rounds about?”

            “Well, we have an announcement for you, and two for Dad here. The one for Dad alone is… Amy and I are gonna get baptized with Penny and Arlo this Sabbath. We were hoping you’d join us.”

          “Oh, Son, I don’t know, I’ve got some issues,” I told him, and then looked at my main issue. I wanted to continue fornicating with Ariel. If she would marry me, maybe I would get baptized with them. I know that’s a terrible excuse, but that’s where my mind was at back then.

          “Behold, now’s the day of salvation, Dad,” Ethan declared, quoting 2 Corinthians 6:2.

          “You mean I’m not invited?” Ariel asked, and I think she genuinely felt left out.

          “Well, I know you don’t like Bible truth, Mom, so why bother asking?”

          “That’s not true,” she defended. “I’m just more about grace, faith and love than you all.”

          “Faith without works is dead,” Ethan said. (See James 2:14-26)

          “We’ve been down this road before,” Ariel said putting a hand up. “What’s your announcement for both of us?”

          “Well,” Ethan began, then glanced affectionately at his blond haired wife who beamed happily back at him. “We just came from the doctor. Crissy is going to have a baby brother or sister.”

          “Wonderful!” I enthused. “You’re not gonna believe this. Ariel just… Ow!”

          I felt a sharp pain on my ankle and looked down just in time to see Ariel’s foot retracting away from my leg.

          “Mom, why did you just kick Dad! What were you about to say, Dad?”

          “Oh, nothing, never mind,” I replied as I rubbed my ankle.

          “What’s going on you two?” Ethan begged. “Mom, you’re not sick are you?”

          “Oh, no Honey, it’s nothing like that,” she replied. Then she looked at me as if for an answer. I had none. Especially after that kick! “Well, it’s like this. I was just at the doctor myself, and, well, Crissy’s not the only one that’s gonna have a baby brother or sister… You are too.”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 14

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 14

ARIEL

BEHOLD, CHILDREN ARE A HERITAGE FROM THE LORD, THE FRUIT OF THE WOMB IS A REWARD (Psalm 127:3)

            “Where are we going?” I asked Penny as we prepared to leave her clinic in her pickup truck.

            My sister struggled to get her seat belt under her swollen abdomen. It was the Saturday before Memorial Day weekend, and my nephew was due to be born in early July. “You’ll see, it’s not far.”

            “Why so secretive?” I asked as gravel spun from underneath her tire as we exited her clinic parking lot.

            “I’m not being secretive,” she said, and then inhaled sharply through her nose and sighed. “But you’re not gonna like what I have to say, so I want the timing and atmosphere to be just right.”

            I felt myself tense, and I chewed on my lower lip. I knew what this was about. I may as well have had a scarlet letter on my chest. I recalled the passion between Eli and I the previous night. Although our passionate kisses had turned into something much more weeks ago, last night’s liaison ended with something more than exchanging ‘I love you’ with each other.

            “Marry me, Ariel,” Eli had whispered into my ear at the height of our passion.

            “Okay,” my lips had murmured against his cheek.

            It had become a well-known secret that Eli and I had become an item. I also thought our intimacy was a secret. But secrets involving sin lead to paranoia. So as I road with my sister, with her admitting she wanted to discuss something uncomfortable, I assumed she knew that I was fornicating. I figured Eli must have told Arlo, and Arlo relayed the gossip to her. Now she was going to get back at me for all the years I periodically accused her of promiscuity and hypocrisy.

             I was a professed Christian with regular attendance at worship, and an upstanding citizen involved with PTA and also assistant coach of soccer. However I did have some skeletons in the closet. These bone fragments of sin may seem like nothing to the culture at large. For my most grievous violations of the Decalogue was premarital sex with both of my future husbands, as well as Eli, who now might be my future husband.

            For the casual believer, no big deal, right? Well, as a deaconess in my family’s  conservative church, what Eli and I were doing in the bedroom loomed large and shameful in my mind. Ironically, the looming large actually disappeared as soon as I started kissing him.

            “What are we doing here?” I asked with a frown as she pulled her truck into the Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship parking lot. “You’re not taking me to one of your services.”

            “Sabbath school and worship was this morning,” she replied. “I want to show you the church’s namesake.”

            “What?”

            “I want to show you Cotton Creek.”

            “I thought you wanted to talk to me about something?”

            “I do, at the creek.”

            I shrugged it off and walked with her down a paved trail behind the church. My petite sister walked with great agility. When I was as pregnant as she was now, I waddled everywhere I went. It was in fact beautiful where we stopped. The stream rippled soothing sounds over rocks as the creek twisted under a canopy of large Cottonwood trees and lush green pines.

            Penny smiled with satisfaction as she gently rubbed her belly and stared at the chuckling stream. She seemed to relax as my anxiety grew. The beauty of the place and the gorgeousness of the spring afternoon seemed to mock my unease. A half dozen possible replies to her potential accusations raced through my head. Impatiently I blurted, “So what did you want to me talk about?”

            She glanced at me and then pointed to a bench. “Let’s go sit.”

            ‘Grrrr,’ I thought. But then I was pleased as she waddled a little as I followed her to the bench.

            “It’s pretty exciting that the band’s CD is going to be out in a couple weeks,” Penny said.

            “Yes, it is.”

            “Arlo and Eli sure have been getting lots of interview requests. Both Christian periodicals as well as secular.”

            “Yes, they have.”

            “It is a pretty interesting story. I mean two forty year old guys that spent almost two decades in a Satanic band together suddenly reappear a few years after the dissolution with a Christian band.”

            “A huh.”

            “There seem to be quite a few skeptics.”

            “Right.”

            “I hope they don’t go on tour for a while, what with the baby and all.”

            “Surely this isn’t what you wanted me to come here and talk about?”

            “No,” she said, her face growing serious. “I sold my share of the clinic.”

            This was actually no surprise; she had thrown around the idea for months. She wanted to take her time with the baby but still use her veterinarian talents volunteering with the animal rescue organization she worked with.

            “I was kind of expecting that,” I said. “But surely that’s not why you brought me here.”

            “No,” she said, eyeing me cautiously. She looked away, placed her hands between her knees and sighed.

            How could my spontaneous, opinionated sister be dillydallying so much? I couldn’t stand the tension any longer. “Look Pen, I know what you want to talk about.”

            “You do?” she frowned. “So Arlo must have talked to Eli already, and Eli told you?”

            “No,” I frowned. “I assume Eli told Arlo, and Arlo told you.”

            “Are we talking about the same thing?” Penny’s frown deepened.

            “Look, I know you’re all religious now, and into the Bible, and all what Eli refers to as primitive Godliness stuff. I know what Eli and I have been doing isn’t up to your new standards. Frankly they’re not up to mine either. But I’m human, and in love, and just so you know, we are getting married.”

            Penny’s eyes became like saucers and her mouth gaped open. “What? Married? When?”

            “I don’t know when. He just asked me last night.”

            “Well, talk about stealing somebody’s thunder,” she grinned as she ran a hand through her silky dark hair, which was now well past her shoulders and as long as I had ever seen it.

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean what I wanted to talk to you about. Will you be my maid of honor?”

            Now I wasn’t the sharpest needle in the sewing basket, but I immediately put one and one together. Stealing thunder and maid of honor. “You agreed to marry Arlo?”

            She looked as happy as I had ever seen her as she bit her lip and nodded. Arlo had been practically begging her for months, but she would only respond with maybes. We hugged and I said, “Congratulations, I’d be honored to be your maid of honor.”

            “Congratulations to you, too,” she said.

            “Will you be my maid of honor?” I asked.

            “I too would be honored. But don’t you want one of your daughters this time?”

            “Who would I pick? Besides you’ve always been my maid of honor. Hopefully this will be the third time’s a charm.”

            She laughed and I asked, “How long until after the baby’s born will you wait?”

            Her face grew serious. “Actually, we’re getting married a week from today.”

            “In a week! Penny, weddings take time to plan. Besides planning, do you really want to be a month away from giving birth in the wedding photos?”

            “Well, here’s the thing. It’s gonna be low key and simple. Other than the parishioners here, there will only be a handful of people in attendance. We’re saying our vows right over there.”

            She pointed at a bend in the creek, just past were the length of water rippled rocks ended.

            “Arlo and I will be in baptismal gowns rather than a suit and dress. Immediately after we say our ‘I do’s’, we are going down into that three foot deep part of the creek to get baptized. So, you could say it will be an unconventional wedding.”

            “I will say. That’s definitely a unique setup,” I admitted. Then I asked her something quite personal, but she is my sister. “So have you and Arlo, you know?”

            “I know what?” she replied innocently.

            “You know, doing the deed?”

            “What deed?” she asked with a frown.

            “Oh, for Pete’s sake, have you two been boinking?”

            She laughed, and I realized that I had just been played by my ultra-serious sister. I laughed too. It was good to see her as lighthearted as I had ever seen her in her entire life. I had viewed her newfound religion as rigid and legalistic, but her joy was palpable. I also considered her impending motherhood and romance as the source. But going forward, there was no denying her and Arlo’s shared faith was at the center of their bond as well as their joy.

            “No, conceiving little Arlo was the only time that we’ve made love.”

            “You’re naming my nephew Arlo Junior?” I asked. Arlo was not necessarily a bad name. That said, I would never, ever name a child of mine Arlo.

            “It will likely be his middle name. Right now we’re considering Jeremiah for his first.”

            I nodded as I refrained from frowning. I don’t think I’d consider Jeremiah as a name for my child, but it wasn’t bad. He’ll probably go by Jerry.

            “When I told Arlo he was going to be a father, he knelt and kissed my belly and quoted Jeremiah 1:5.”

            “Interesting, but I’m glad my days of naming babies are over,” I chuckled. “As a matter of fact, I just had my first sign of menopause.”

            “Oh yeah? What sign was that?”

            “For the first time last month, without being pregnant, I missed my period.”

            Penny looked at me with a stunned expression. “You know your admission about, um, misbehaving with Eli? Did he wear a certain something?”

            “You mean a condom? No, but he had a vasectomy in his early twenties.”

            “He also had it reversed in his late thirties,” Penny declared.

            “No he didn’t, he would have told me,” I replied, thinking what she assumed ridiculous.

            “I don’t know about the second part of what you just said, but I know for a fact about the first part.”

            “How?” I wanted to know as my pulse quickened. It seemed she did, in fact, know something.

            “You know back in February when Arlo shut himself up in his room, and I went and told him he was gonna be a father?”

            “Of course.”

            “It was a couple days after. Arlo, Eli, and myself were chatting before their band practiced, and I distinctly remember Eli talking about being pretty serious with a lady right after their band broke up. She wanted a baby, so he got it reversed. But then he went on to say that she turned out to be infertile. Some time later, they parted ways.”

            “I don’t believe it; he would have told me.”

            “I’m just telling you what I overheard,” she said with a shrug. Then not understanding my fear, she grinned and said, “How about that? You made me aware that I was pregnant, and now it seems I made you aware that you could be pregnant.”

            “Yeah, how about that?” I mumbled.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 13

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 13

ELI

THEREFORE, LAYING ASIDE ALL MALICE, ALL DECEIT, HYPOCRISY, ENVY, AND ALL EVIL SPEAKING… INDEED YOU HAVE TASTED THAT THE LORD IS GRACIOUS (1 Peter 2:1, 3)

            “Hi Eli,” Ariel said a little breathlessly as she entered the church basement. She unzipped her puffy, shiny white winter coat revealing a low cut top that my eyes lingered on a second too long before they met hers. There seemed to be a twinkle of satisfaction in her windows to the soul before becoming serious.

            “You’ve got to talk Arlo out of it,” Ariel insisted, her large brown eyes pleading. It was about a half an hour before our band was to practice. She pulled her long brown hair back into a ponytail, her movements causing her chest to stick out even further. But her words caused me to tense rather than lust.

            For some reason I thought she was talking about suicide. But that couldn’t be. I had breakfast with him earlier in the day, and he had apologized profusely for shutting himself away in his room for a few days. He seemed mellow, even happy, yet I could tell he had been preoccupied. He also seemed on the verge of telling me something, but Mrs. Mendelbright kept lingering around the table.

            “Talk him out of what, quitting the band?” I asked, not knowing what else it could be.

            “He’s quitting the band?”

            “No, I mean I don’t know. I was just throwing up a guess since I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Oh,” she replied, her lovely eyes getting even larger. “So he didn’t tell you then?”

            “Tell me what?”

            “Oh, never mind. I thought you knew.”

            “Knew what?”

            “Tick a lock,” she said, and then made a locking motion at her lips. “It’s not for me to tell, like I said, I thought you knew. I’m gonna run a quick errand.”

            She turned and began to walk briskly away. We were in her family’s church, and our band’s equipment was in the basement where we practiced. It had been two weeks since our reverse hug in the parking lot, which was also when we saw Penny and Arlo share a quick kiss followed by an embrace. In the days after, things between Ariel and me had become both more relaxed, yet strangely awkward because of sexual tension not acted upon.

            I grabbed her around the waist, and we fell onto a sofa that was situated in a corner of the basement. It was our first physical contact since the parking lot incident. “Oh no, you’re not.”

            She giggled and squirmed. Our heads knocked together, but it didn’t hurt much. Then as we wrestled in a sitting position, our cheeks ended up pressed together. I think we both somehow did this on purpose. Then we looked at each other and I kissed her. Then she kissed me. Then we kissed each other as we heard a door open. I abruptly stood and she tumbled onto the floor. I helped her up and said, “Sorry.”

            Ethan, Amy and Crystal came down the stairs. When Crystal spotted us, she ran to Ariel and shouted, “Gammy!”

            I sat back on the couch and asked our granddaughter, “Does Poppop get a hug?”

            She shyly shook her head, making her blonde curls jiggle. I sniffed, made fists and rubbed my eyes as if I was crying. Then she said, “okay,” and flew into my arms.

            “What were you two doing?” Ethan asked.

            Ariel and I glanced guiltily at each other as if we were a couple teenagers and our son was one of our parents. Ariel and I spoke at the same time. She said, “talking,” and I said “nothing.”

            “I thought I saw you helping Mom up off of the floor,” Ethan said.

            I didn’t know what to say. Ariel and I looked at each other. Neither of us wanted to lie, but how could we say why? Thankfully he shrugged and said, “Oh well, nevermind.”

            Sometimes playing dumb really does work.

            As our band practiced, I kept eyeing Arlo all evening. He seemed normal, maybe even a little more lighthearted than usual. So what could be so bad that Ariel wanted me to talk him out of? He and I were the last to leave band practice, and as I contemplated how or what to ask him, he solved the dilemma for me.

            “I asked Penny to marry me,” Arlo said with a sly grin as my mouth dropped open.

            Although I was in fact stunned, I calmly joked. “Well that must have been some kind of hug you two had the other week.”

            “Oh, if you only knew.”

            “So when’s the big day?”

            “She hasn’t said yes yet.”

            “But you think she will?”

            “I do.”

            “That’s what you’re hoping she’ll say one day soon.”

            He eyed me cautiously, and I soon understood why. “Penny’s pregnant.”

            Because of his religious zeal over the last couple years, it didn’t occur to me that Arlo might be the father. I knew that Penny had had a series of flings throughout her thirty eight years, but no serious relationships. I also knew that the recent funk that Arlo had been in had something to do with a child. However, I thought it had something to do with his ex-wife.

            So in the spur of the moment, I put one, plus two, plus three together. But instead of coming up with six, it turned out to be another equation. One, Arlo had been upset over a pregnancy or child. Two, Penny was pregnant, and Arlo was in love with her, and debating whether or not to raise another man’s child. Three, he asked Penny to marry him, therefore deciding to raise a child that wasn’t spawned by him.

            “That’s a very honorable thing to want to do, Arlo,” I told him. “I know if Ariel and I had reacquainted before she married her last husband, I would have gladly raised her daughters as their stepdad.”

            Arlo frowned and responded simply with, “Huh?”

            He was puzzled on a couple of fronts. Turns out I divulged too much information about my feelings for Ariel. Secondly, I discovered that Arlo was in fact the one that impregnated Penny. But how?

            Don’t misunderstand, I know the birds and the bees. I meant with the religious devotion he had been trying to witness to me over the last couple of years, how did he come to impregnate Penny out of wedlock? To him, this was sin. It became a bit of a stumbling block to me as I tried to become a follower of Jesus, rather than just an admirer. I was making the mistake of watching Arlo, and my son for an example, rather than Jesus. I was even looking to Ariel, the woman I found myself lusting after. But if you look to any person other than Christ as an example, you’re bound to be disappointed.

            “Oh,” Arlo gazed at me with regretful eyes. “You see… what happened… um.”

            Realization dawned on me. “So, Penny has a bun in the oven, but you are the one, shall we say, that provided the yeast?”

            He winced, nodded, took off his baseball cap that he was wearing backward, ran his hands through his long blonde hair, and then winced some more. “Are you disappointed?”

            “Yeah I’m disappointed,” I replied evenly. “You come across like the Apostle Paul, often making me feel like a degenerate because I don’t have your passion, zeal, and devotion. Then you not only fornicate but are fathering an illegitimate child.”

            A look flashed onto Arlo’s face that I hadn’t seen since we were on stage together in ‘The Sons of Molech.’ It was a glimpse of the sneer and growl he used to display at our audience, only without the gothic makeup. “Yeah, well I guess you’d know something about fathering illegitimate children.”

            I shrugged, “Yes, I would.”

            He shook his head in disgust, then put his face in his hands, sat in a metal folding chair and began to weep. “I’m sorry, Eli, I truly am. I sinned with Penny. I even wanted to last night. I already loved her, but making a child together… I feel a bond with her I never felt with anyone before. Yes I sinned. But just like 1 John 2:1 tells us. If anyone sins we have an Advocate in Jesus.”

            I crouched by him and patted his knee. “It’s cool, Arlo.”

            He looked at me with bleary eyes. “If you drop the soap, you don’t stop taking a shower.”

            “Huh?” I inquired, feeling myself edge a little away from him.

            He continued, telling me how he went to a pastor in his distress, and was counseled through an analogy of taking a shower. If you drop the soap, it doesn’t mean the shower’s over. You pick it up and continue getting clean. Therefore, if you sin, you ask for forgiveness, repent, and continue to get spiritually clean.

            It did strike a chord with me. I was getting close to becoming a follower of Christ, rather than an admirer. I had bonded with my son, who was deeply spiritual. He was also being influenced by Arlo, and becoming a student of the whole Bible, as well as history. There was also a bond being formed with my son’s mother that was both different and similar to the one we had as teenagers.

            When we were young, I used to think of Ariel as pretty and prude. It was how wholesome and untouchable she seemed that made her all the more desirable. Now there was a similar, yet different atmosphere about her. When we were young, long conservative skirts seemed to be her uniform. Now it was form fitting leggings and tight tops. But that was then, and this was now. One style was decided by her mother, while the other was by herself.

            I’ve never met a woman I was more attracted to than Ariel. And I’ve met plenty. Maybe a large aspect was her seeming untouchable. As a rock star, I had a bevy of attractive women throwing themselves at me. Why do we humans so often want that which is forbidden? When we were young, it was her virginal wholesomeness that kept her from me for a long time. Now it was her recent widowhood, coupled with her skepticism of me when I first arrived.

            Out in the church parking lot, I watched Arlo’s taillights disappear as I put some things onto the passenger seat of my pickup truck. Right as I turned and shut the door, a body loomed with a voice that said, “You’re just now leaving?”

            Startled, maybe even frightened, I reeled back and slammed the side of my head into the door of my truck. As I winced and rubbed my noggin, the female voice gasped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean scare you, Eli.”

            “I wasn’t scared, little lady,” I replied with a mockingly macho voice. “I was just making sure my door was shut with my head.”

            She laughed but then looked a little uneasy. “I was doing some things in the church office when I noticed you and Arlo leaving… So did you?”

            “Find out about Penny being pregnant and the marriage proposal?”

            “Okay, good, so did you talk some sense into him?” She asked as she casually unzipped her puffy coat halfway down again. Why were we outside? She had to be purposely enticing me. It was painful, but I kept my eyes glued to hers.

            “I don’t think that’s my business, Ariel. Besides, she only said maybe, not yes.”

            “Maybe with Penny or me might as well be yes when it comes to guys.”

            “Why are you so against Penny marrying Arlo? He’s a good man, and well to do.”

            “Because Penny isn’t the relationship type, and they’ve only know each other for like two minutes.”

            “They’ve known each other long enough and well enough to make a baby.”

            “That’s because Arlo’s a hypocrite.”

            “Why is he a hypocrite?”

            “Getting so exacting and legalistic with the Bible, and then he goes and fornicates.”

            “What about Penny? It takes two to tango. You all come from a religious family. She’s been a professed Christian a lot longer than Arlo.”

            She shrugged nonchalantly. “I love my sister, but she’s a hypocrite too.”

            “What about you?” I asked as I leaned into kiss her.

            Before I connected, she giggled and shoved me away. “I’m only a borderline hypocrite.”

            She turned and began to walk briskly away, her female form swaying in the moonlight. She called over her shoulder, “Goodnight.”

            In few quick steps I caught up to her, grasped her hand, and spun her around. “Let’s cross the border.”

            A minute later I pulled my mouth from hers. Grinning I said, “Hypocrite.”

            Smiling back, she abruptly zipped her coat up, spun on her heels, walked briskly away again and said over her shoulder, “Close, but not quite.”

            “Yet,” I said.

            She stopped, turned to face me, and with a flirtatious smile said, “Maybe.”

            Then for a third time, she spun and walked briskly away, disappearing into the night.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 9

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 9

ELI

THE LAW OF THE LORD IS PERFECT, CONVERTING THE SOUL; THE TESTIMONY OF THE LORD IS SURE MAKING WISE THE SIMPLE (Psalm 19:7)

            Life is a strange trip. The whole year I lived in Iowa as a seventeen year old, I could not wait to graduate high school and leave. But one thing that did give me contentment was my friendship with Ariel Grobstick. Then that friendship turned romantic right before Arlo and I fulfilled our plans to go west to pursue our dream of rock and roll stardom. I still remember those last words exchanged between Ariel and me as if it were yesterday.

            “I gave you my virginity!” she had told me with tears pouring out of her eyes. “You said you love me more than anybody on the planet.”

            “I do, I truly do, Ariel,” I pleaded, her words were like a knife in my gut. Yet the second part of my response displayed how cold hearted I was. “More than any person, Ariel. But my first love has always been music. I need to do whatever it takes to be successful, and the L.A. rock scene is the best place for that. Come with me.”

            “Why, so I can be your mistress?” she replied bitterly.

            “What do you mean? I would never cheat on you.”

            “You just said you love your guitar more than me.”

            “Ariel…”

            “Goodbye, Elijah,” she spit, turning and walking briskly away from me. I didn’t see her again for more than two decades.

            It was now midwinter in Iowa. Despite feeling like the frozen heartland was a prison as a teenager, I was now forty years of age and had been residing there for four months of my own free will. And I had never been happier in my life. It was all because of the instant family I had miraculously acquired by opening a letter one day.

            It had all turned out better than I had expected, but it hadn’t been without some challenges. First of all I needed to gain trust. Not only because I was a virtual stranger to my twenty two year old son, but also because of my rather crazy past as a wild rock star.

            Then two weeks before Christmas, Ariel’s second husband, who had been seriously injured in a scuffle with her first husband, died suddenly after suffering a stroke. Since Ariel had been the most skeptical of me upon my arrival, and since we had been lovers as teenagers, the death of her husband made me extra uncomfortable.

            Not long after meeting my son, we began jamming together. In other words we were creating music. He was a fantastic singer, and his wife was a superb drummer. When Arlo arrived, he took up the bass with us. Over the days and weeks, we evolved into a pretty tight little band and practiced three or four times a week.

            In the beginning of these sessions, Ariel was present every time. It was as if she was a mother hen making sure that I wasn’t a wolf. I can’t blame her. If ever a band’s record needed a parental advisory label it was ‘The Sons of Molech’. Even while a member of the band, I often distanced myself from the content, sighting that I wrote the music and Izzy wrote the lyrics.

            After the death of Ariel’s husband, she only joined us a half a dozen times when we practiced. On this day, in mid-February, she arrived with our five year old granddaughter. I tried not to notice how well Ariel filled out the black leggings she wore. Her dark hair with sprinkles of salt was pulled back in a ponytail. She rarely wore makeup, but this day a little mascara framed her large lovely brown eyes.

            In one hand Crystal carried the little guitar I had bought her. I typically gave her a five to ten minute guitar lesson before our band practiced. She was surprisingly good. Could musical talent be genetic? I knew little of such things.

            In Crystal’s other hand, she held a card. She shyly smiled as she shoved it toward me, using the name she called me, which I absolutely loved. “Here, Poppop.”

            “Thank you, Crissy,” I said cheerly as I opened it. It had a cartoonish picture of two kittens holding hands. Inside it asked, ‘Will you be my Valentine?’

            “I’d be delighted to be your Valentine, Sweetheart,” I told her as I spread my arms, She leapt into me for a hug.

            I glanced up at Ariel and she smiled happily at us. When we broke from our hug, Ariel handed another card to Crystal, took her guitar from her and said, “Go give this to Uncle Arlo.”

            I felt my toes curl. Not only at being one on one with Ariel, but I was fearful of how Arlo would handle a Valentine card. He was really into what he called primitive Godliness. Not only the Bible and the Bible only, which was great, but he also became a student of history, which was also great. Yet in my opinion, he took it too far, often preaching about the pagan origins of most of our holidays.

            But I couldn’t help chuckling when Arlo’s face lit up in exaggerated glee. Then he picked Crystal up and spun her around three or four times as she squealed with delight.

            Ariel pulled up a chair, sat, and strummed Crystal’s guitar a few times. “How about you give me a guitar lesson?”

            “Seriously?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

            “Sure, why not,” she replied with a shrug.

            “You never wanted any guitar lessons twenty years ago.”

            “I didn’t need any,” she said with a coy smile. “You paid attention to me back then without me asking.”

            Words got stuck in my throat. Was she flirting with me? It had only been two months since her husband passed away. Was there a timetable for grief and its extent? I suppose everybody was different.

            “Eli, will do me a favor?”

            “Sure, but let’s get a bigger guitar.”

             “I’m not talking about that,” she said with a little giggle. Then she became serious. “Will you please stop avoiding me, and tiptoeing around me.”

            “Am I?”

            “Ya think.”

            “Apparently not,” I said with a smile.

            Once again she giggled, but then became serious. “Before we, ya know,  made a baby, you were one of the best friends I ever had. Ever since our senior year, I’d look up at the stars at night and recall how wonderful it was sitting next to you gazing at the twinkling heavens and talking the night away. Now, to have you so close, and only to be avoided. It, well, hurts.”

            “I’m sorry, Ariel. I truly am. The truth is, I have been avoiding you. But its only because I hurt you all those years ago. I felt like my presence here only made things worse for you. I even thought about going back to California for a while right after Doug passed away. But selfishly, I have been enjoying getting to know Ethan and his family, and couldn’t get myself to go.”

            “Well I’m glad you didn’t go. I admit, I was skeptical when you first arrived back in October. But your presence has been a blessing to us all. Watching you bond with Ethan and Crystal has warmed my heart, and I never would have believed it possible.”

            “Really, why’s that?”

            “You have to ask? Sweet Eli Alderson became sinister Eli Endor. That whole ‘Sons of Molech’ thing was as if you left me and married a prostitute.”

            “I’ve come to realize over the last couple years how wrong my thinking and rationalizing was. But you have to believe me when I say I didn’t take the whole satanism thing seriously. I looked at our band like a traveling horror show, and I was an actor playing a part. Like Alice Cooper. You know he’s a Christian. And as far as I know, he still tours with his traveling horror show. As for me, ‘The Sons of Molech’ are done forever.”

            “It helps that half the band is dead,” she said.

            “Even if they weren’t, Arlo quit, and I was following on his heels. Now, writing Christian songs with Ethan… It feels redemptive. Like making amends for promoting that which was dark and evil.”

            “Where do you see this all going?” Ariel asked with an eager expression.

            I shrugged. “We’ve got enough songs to record a CD. Then who knows? Play some shows, go on tour.”

            The door to the church auditorium opened. Ariel and I both looked and watched Penny walk in. She hadn’t been to one of our band’s rehearsals in months. I noticed Arlo slink in the opposite direction. I wasn’t the only one tiptoeing around one of the Grobstick sisters. Although they both had different last names now.

            “What’s up with Arlo and Penny?” I asked.

            Ariel looked at Arlo. “What do you mean?”

            “She came in and he went to the other side of the room.”

            “So?” she replied with a shrug.

            “Oh, I don’t know. When he first arrived here in Iowa, not long after I did, they seemed awfully chummy. Then all of a sudden they don’t seem to want anything to do with each other.”

            “I do know he’s been seeing Penny’s assistant, Abby.”

            “Oh, I think they are just friends. He goes to church with her. They’re both into that Biblical Sabbath thing. He says the Bible and the Bible only, something like primitive Godliness.”

            “Primitive Godliness,” she snorted. “If Abby’s into something like that, maybe she should stop having one night stands while she’s engaged.”

            “What, you don’t believe she could repent and be forgiven?”

            “No, I do,” she said with a bit of a whine. “I didn’t mean to sound judgmental. It does seem like something weird is going on with the three of them, though. I know Penny had a thing for Arlo, but it seems he has more in common with Abby. Yet the two women have to work together.”

            “So what did Penny tell you?”

            “Nothing. She doesn’t talk to me about her love life. But I know my sister, and I observe… Speaking about the Sabbath situation, I wish you’d tell Arlo to stop brainwashing Ethan. Now he’s talking about going to that Seventh Day church.”

            “Brainwashing?” I chuckled. “They’ve just been studying together. I’ve even joined them.”

            “I guess Arlo is a fairly new Christian. I suppose he doesn’t understand the Sabbath was changed to Sunday in honor of the resurrection.”

            “He and I have discussed that. He says baptism is what honors the resurrection. He says Sunday keeping became a prominent tradition in the fourth century when Constantine made Christianity a legal religion. When that happened a bunch of the pagan traditions entered the church. One of them, the worship of the sun God, on the venerable day of the sun, was Sunday which became instituted.”

            “Look at you, Mr. Bible scholar,” she joked, yet I detected an air of annoyance.

            “He said the Bible says God doesn’t change (Malachi 3:6). God wrote the Ten Commandments with his own finger, and the Sabbath is right in the middle (Exodus 20:8-11).”

            “But we’re not under the law, we’re under grace.”

            “Do we then make void the law through faith. Certainly not! On the contrary, we establish the law. That is Romans 3:31.”

            “You’re freaking me out, Eli,” she with a smile. “I guess you’ve convinced me that you’re not a satanist.”

            “Hey, Ethan is not here yet, and it seems Crissy is more interested in playing drums right now. Are you really interested in a guitar lesson?”

            “Sure, why not?”

            “I’ve got an acoustic guitar out in my truck.”

            My Shelby Mustang was in storage for the winter, so I was just about to unlock the pickup truck I had acquired when Ariel came up behind me. She had a look of wonder on face as her eyes danced with excitement. “Eli?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Before we go back in, will you hold me like you used to, and we’ll look at the stars for a minute.”

            “Sure,” I replied with an easy smile. She turned and backed into me, and I wrapped my arms around her, so we were spooning. She turned her gaze toward the sky with a sentimental look on her face. I inhaled her scent, and was considering kissing her cheek, when we heard a murmur of voices. It was Penny and Arlo, over by her pickup truck. They didn’t see us. Ariel suddenly lost interest in the night sky.

            Penny retrieved something from her truck. It was an envelope, and she handed it to Arlo. “So you say she quit her job and is leaving town?”

            “I guess so… I’m sorry,” Penny consoled.

            “It’s no big deal, we were just friends. I did hope we could be more, but I just couldn’t…”

            “Couldn’t what?”

            “Get you out of my head,” he blurted.

            “Oh Arlo,” she said. Then she went to tiptoes and kissed his lips. Then she hugged him and pressed the side of her face onto his chest as they held each other. With her cheek pressed into Arlo’s chest, she spotted Ariel and me watching them. She quickly shoved away from Arlo. As soon as she did this, Ariel abruptly stepped out of my backward embrace. Then we all just looked at each other for a long speechless moment.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 7

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 7

PENNY

THE HEART IS DECEITFUL ABOVE ALL THINGS, AND DESPERATELY WICKED; WHO CAN KNOW IT? (Jeremiah 17:9)

            “Hey,” my assistant Abby said with a breathless grin as she breezed into the clinic. “Did you have a good weekend?”

            “It was okay,” I replied. “I’m going to guess you had a good weekend.”

            I hadn’t seen Abby this happy in more than a year. Ever since the twenty eight year old’s fiancée ended their relationship the previous autumn, she had been depressed. He did this right after she discovered she was pregnant. I had thought him a creep, but her friendship with Arlo brought to light an interesting twist to the conception of her baby daughter Lindsey.

            She giggled. “Yeah, I had a really nice weekend.”

            “Oh yeah, what’d you do?”

            “Well, Arlo Aldo went to church with me Saturday,” she said breezily.

            I felt myself go rigid. A few nights previously, he and I had talked for a couple hours. I felt like we bonded, and I even told him as we parted that if he wanted to do something this weekend to give me a call. He very cheerfully said okay. But apparently he chose to spend time with my pretty, decade younger assistant. Was I jealous? I think I was, but why?

            “Oh yeah?” I replied, purposely appearing disinterested.

            “Yeah,” she said with more giggles. “Then yesterday he came out with my little rock climbing group. He had never done it before, but he was a natural. All those muscles aren’t just for show.”

            “That’s nice,” I said, leafing through some papers, and pretending to be looking for something as we talked. “So do you have a thing for Arlo?”

            My normally plain Jane redheaded assistant had an air of sexiness about her and looked cute as she crinkled her nose. “I think I do. He’s so handsome and rugged, yet gentle.”

            Oh well, lost at love again… What was I thinking? Lost at love? Arlo and I had one lengthy conversation with occasional, mild flirting.

            “So when are you gonna see him again?”

            “I don’t know,” she replied with a shrug. Then her bubbly demeanor dissipated. “Truth is, I think I’m more interested in him than he is me.”

            “Oh yeah, why’s that?”

            “Well, as he put it, the ink isn’t dry on his divorce yet. Plus he treated me more like we’re pals rather than, you know, mutually romantically interested.”

            “I see,” I replied, hopeful that all wasn’t lost with Arlo and me. But then something dawned on me. If Abby and I were secretly and not so secretly competing for the same guy, how would that affect our working relationship? She was the best assistant I ever had. Oh well, I’d cross that bridge later, and hope that it wasn’t rickety.

            Two days later I was invited to a small gathering at our family’s church to listen to some of the songs Eli and Ethan’s band had been practicing. Of which, Arlo played bass. I decided to do something I rarely did and wasn’t very good at. I made myself look girly.

            I didn’t want to overdo it. I didn’t want to be obvious. A little mascara to enhance my big brown eyes and a little lip gloss to sensualize my lips. I had pretty fantastic legs, if I do say so myself, so I dug out one of the two shorter skirts I owned. It was denim, and I forgot how high it was above the knee. I tugged it down, but it didn’t help much. I put brown penny loafers on my feet and wondered if anyone would comment on Penny wearing penny loafers.

            I spotted Arlo’s bass guitar in a stand down in the church basement where the band had been practicing. But I saw no Arlo. Everyone else was there. Then I heard a toilet flush behind me. Then water running in the sink. Then paper towels departing from a dispenser. Then the restroom door flung open, and the happy hulk emerged.

            “Hey, pretty Penny in penny loafers,” he grinned. I couldn’t help grinning back, even though I tried not to. So it took all of three minutes for someone to make a ‘Penny in penny loafers’ comment. I knew I should have worn pumps, or even my old cowboy boots.

             “You clean up nice,” he added.

            This is where I exposed one of my biggest flaws. That was speaking before thinking, rather than thinking before speaking. “Yeah, but do I look as good as Abby up on a rock in spandex athletic pants?”
            His grin grew bigger. “That wasn’t horrible to look at.”

            “You know, to lust after a woman is committing adultery with her already in your heart.”

            “I’m not married anymore, so I no longer have a covenant with my eyes,” he said, quoting Job 31:1.

            “Is that right?”

            “That’s right, so I’m gonna go ahead and admire your surprisingly shapely legs too.”

            “Surprisingly?”

            “Yeah. For a girl that tries to dress like a guy, I would have guessed your legs would be hairy.”

            “I don’t try to dress like a guy. I just don’t put a whole lot of effort into being feminine.”

            “Well you should. You’re lovely to behold when you do.”

            I snorted a laugh. “You call this effort? You should see me in me my blonde wig, leather skirt, and black stockings with heels.”

            “Okay,” he said eagerly.

            “Too bad, I hate heels.”

            “Hence the penny loafers,” he said, and then frowned. “Do you really have a blonde wig?”

            “I do. But it was given to me as a joke. I’ve only worn it once. Why do you prefer blondes? I don’t know that you’re even a gentleman.”

            “Actually I don’t, but you in a blonde wig would be a curious sight. You in a leather skirt and stockings would be an even curiouser site.”

            “I don’t think curiouser is a word. Besides, it’s character that counts, not appearance,” I declared, and then felt a wave of hypocrisy as the marriage I wrecked flashed into my mind.

            “Very true,” he agreed. “And to be honest, as a fairly new Christian, and a brand new single man, I’m still figuring out the boundaries of appropriateness when it comes to admiring attractive females, and admiration crossing over into lust.”

            There were around forty or fifty people milling about. Eli interrupted numerous conversations as he directed the band to assemble and begin play. They were fantastic!

            Afterward, Arlo and I went to an old fashion café. He had a piece of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream. I had a strawberry shake. With my penny loafers and white ankle socks passing as bobby socks, it seemed like we were on a fifties style date. Was it date? I certainly felt like a teeny bopper when I couldn’t help asking, “So, do you like Abby?”

            He shrugged. “She’s a nice girl.”

            “I know she has a major crush on you.”

            He stopped a fork full of pie halfway to his mouth. With raised eyebrows he replied, “She does?”

            “Can’t you tell?”

            “Well, I mean, we do get along pretty good. And she’s nice looking. But I’ve only been divorced for about two minutes, so I’m not ready for a relationship.”

            I felt both relieved as well as disappointed. Did I want a relationship? A relationship with Arlo Aldo? I do know I wanted to go to bed with him. But would he be willing? I wasn’t a committed Christian back then. When I went out on a date, which was becoming more and more infrequent, it was usually with someone I already knew. Therefore, we usually ended up in bed. But Arlo seemed to take his faith very seriously. If he kept what he referred to as the Biblical Sabbath, I highly doubted that he would be willing to fornicate.

            Arlo continued about Abby. “Besides, as you know, she has some issues. And I have enough of my own right now.”

            “By issues, do you mean her daughter Lindsey? I know with her family belonging to a conservative church and all, it was difficult for her to have a child out of wedlock.”

            “Actually, her family was pretty cool. It’s the guilt she still feels over her fiancée.”

            “Guilt over her fiancée? Don’t be ridiculous! After four years together, he knocks her up and then immediately dumps her just weeks before their wedding.”

            “He’s not the father,” Arlo blurted, and then his eyes got wide, and he put delicate fingers to his lips. I would have giggled at the sight if the subject matter wasn’t so serious.

            I felt an electric chill throughout my entire body that somebody with Abby’s character would cheat on her fiancée. Then I felt hurt that she had apparently confided in Arlo, but not in me. Abby had only worked for me not quite two years, but I felt like we were pretty close friends.

            “So Abby told you this?”

            “Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “I met her former fiancée’s brother at her church. I think he thought Abby and I were an item. He took me aside and warned me that she was a cheater. He also said her former fiancée let everyone think he was the deadbeat to save her from disgrace. He said he also left town due to his own undeserved disgrace.”

            “I don’t believe it!” I said. “Sweet little, God fearing Abby not only cheated, but let the betrayed take the fall.”

            “Please keep this between you and me,” Arlo said. His eyes looked somewhat panicked. “I promised him I wouldn’t tell, but I let slip figuring you already knew. Trust me, I can tell by things she’s told me that she plans to set the record straight. She told me she had been backslidden for years and had things she needed to own up to. I’m betting what I just told you is part of it.”

            “I’ll keep it to myself, I promise.”

            “I hope this doesn’t make you think less of her. I believe she’s repentant. I think she’s just seeking God’s grace and working up the courage to come clean.”

            “I have my own skeletons, Arlo. What you just told me only makes me feel for her.”

            We drove separately, and out in the parking lot, grinning, he stuck out his hand to shake. I opened my arms and said, “I think we can do better than that.”

            As we broke away from the hug, I went on tip toes and made to kiss his cheek. Only I missed on purpose and kissed half of his mouth. I could tell it took him by surprise, and he made a joke of it, saying, “Mmm, strawberry.”

            Aiming wide innocent looking eyes that weren’t so innocent, I invited. “If you like the taste, have some more.”

            “Don’t mind if I do,” he replied, and lowered his face to mine.