Tag: short-story

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 17

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 17

LOUIS LEWIS

NO EVIL SHALL BEFALL YOU, NOR ANY PLAGUE COME NEAR YOUR DWELLING. FOR HE SHALL GIVE HIS ANGELS CHARGE OVER YOU, TO KEEP YOU IN ALL YOUR WAYS. (Psalm 91:10, 11)

            Destiny and Brock Storm’s remote acreage proved to be a refuge for many who were seeking shelter from the chaos of the plagues. They were showing up miraculously, claiming that they were brought by somebody in the know, that they did not know. More than once I witnessed them look around in bewilderment, exclaiming, ‘Where did they go?’

            The very first such person was Tim Grant. He was a distinguished looking man in his seventies. He had aged well and was in great shape for someone in the category of geriatric. I had taken a liking to him, notwithstanding thinking he might have a screw loose at first, due to his supernatural encounter. This only proved I still struggled with skepticism, despite miraculously escaping the first plague myself. But my faith was strengthening by the hour.

            Tim had a gentle manner with an easy smile, despite the bedlam happening in the world. He had been in search of Anna Clayton. When the first plague causing loathsome sores began to infect the majority of the population, he had become concerned about his onetime friend. I hadn’t known initially that they had been more than just friends. It turned out, he hadn’t known he had a daughter by her.

            And that’s why Anna’s husband had been irate when Tim had shown up on their doorstep an hour before standing on the Storm’s doorstep. That’s why after the affair he had moved away and had kept his distance for more than eight years. That’s why after the adulterous liaison he had sought repentance with tears.

            But after the plague fell, he needed to be sure Anna was okay. When Brad, his former neighbor opened the door, he hadn’t expected him to be glad to see him. What he hadn’t expected was to see the grotesque, puss oozing sores on Brad’s face. He had liked and respected Brad when they had lived next to each other. He had always thought of him as a Godly man, so he was sure that he would have been safe from the plagues. He wasn’t so sure about Anna.

            Despite Brad’s current attitude, he had graciously forgiven them both not quite a decade earlier after a guilty conscience had forced a confession from Anna. But then she had begun calling Tim again only a few months after their fling. Tim had patiently, kindly ordered her to stop trying to contact him. Yet a half dozen more times she had sent him texts pleading that she needed to see him.

            As painful as it was, he had ignored them. He didn’t know that she simply wanted to tell him the not so simple news that he was going to be a father. He didn’t know that Brad had actually insisted that Tim had a right to know. He didn’t know that Anna felt like it was news to be delivered in person. He didn’t know that Brad planned to accompany her in the possible meeting.

            As our numbers increased, the Storm’s large farm house began to feel like a bed and breakfast. Then it was like a college dormitory as we were doubled and tripled in our rooms. The children were sacking out on the living room floor. Despite uncertainty in the world, God blessed the kids for their simple faith and allowed them to treat our current living like a slumber party.

            I was sitting on my bed reading my Bible when Tim walked in. He and I had been paired up in my room. He had a look of awe and wonderment on his face. He and I had become fast friends, so he used a shortened version of my name as he addressed me. Sitting on his own bed he said, “I can hardly believe it, Lou. I have a daughter.”

            I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I said as much. “What do you mean?”

            “Anna, she just informed me that that little angel Brianna is the fruit of my loins.”

            I frowned. Maybe it was our age difference, for Tim had a good quarter century on me, but I found his term describing his parentage to Brianna odd. Yet I knew exactly what he meant, and I was stunned. Oh I knew Anna had confessed to infidelity, and that Brianna wasn’t her husband’s biological daughter. What caught me unexpectedly was it turning out to be this humble, pious man who was old enough to be Anna’s father as well as Brianna’s.

            “This is good news then?” I asked.

            He looked at me with a bewildered expression. “I don’t know. That one amazing night with Anna left me with years of guilt.”

            He began to whimper, then cry, then sob to the point his whole body shook. “How can such beauty come from ashes?”

            I suddenly knew why God had paired him and me together. I shared a common bond with him, a secret not even a half dozen people knew. A secret that left such a huge scar of shame on my soul I fought to keep the words inside that felt compelled to come out.

            Why, oh why did I feel this urge to confess to my brand new brother in Christ? This man I barely knew who was my complete opposite. He was soft spoken and gentle, compared to my history of gruff and abrupt. He was well to do, and I had mostly lived paycheck to paycheck. He drove a new Volvo, and I drove a car I bought at a police auction. Yet I felt a kinship with the man I couldn’t explain. Maybe we would even end up with our arms around each other singing ‘Ebony and Ivory.’

            “I know how you feel,” I heard myself say. “I too have a daughter out of wedlock.”

            His gaze was intense as we locked eyes. We didn’t know each well enough then for him to be surprised. But his countenance expressed, ‘You mean I’m not alone? Someone knows what it means to claim to follow God and fail big time?’

            As reluctant as I had been, it felt good to get this off my chest with someone. Someone who would not only understand but benefit as if we had our own little support group. But then he asked a question that caused my thinking to do a one-eighty. “Are you two close?”

            I looked away from his penetrating blue eyes. “No, she’s mostly wanted nothing to do with me.”

            “I see,” he said blankly.

            “But our situations are different, even though they’re similar,” I said, and then frowned at the contradictory statement. “It was a complicated time in my life. But when hasn’t there been a complicated time in my life.”

            “In the world we will have tribulation,” Tim said reassuringly.

            “But be of good cheer, I have overcome the world,” I finished. (John 16:33)

            We aimed forced smiles at each other. Then we sat in awkward silence for minute. Then he told me about him and Anna. How he fell in love with her after the initial harsh grief of his wife’s passing. He told of the afternoon they had innocently talked for an hour or two over a bottle of wine and things spontaneously turned romantic.

            I gently rebuked him. “Tim, there’s nothing innocent in sharing a bottle of wine with a married woman, especially when mutual attraction is present.”

            “Fair enough,” he nodded. “But in my defense, I thought the attraction was one sided.”

            “Did you? When you broke open the bottle of wine, what was your motive?”

            He considered me for a moment, sighed. “I wanted to loosen us up to see if the chemistry I felt was one sided or not. But I truly thought we would have only a glass maybe two, not the whole bottle.”

            “The human heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked,” I said.

            “Who can know it,” he finished. (Jeremiah 17:9) Then he added with a forced chuckle, “Well, thanks for putting me in my place, Brother.”

            I chuckled myself and said, “How about I share my own wicked and deceitful heart?”

            “Please do,” he grinned.

            I sighed. “You infiltrated Anna’s marriage; I betrayed my own vows. You seduced with wine, I with power and rank.”

            “You mean like David with Bathsheba?” he interjected.

            “Well, David was a king, while I was merely a police sergeant at the time. But now that you mention it, there was one similarity. The department gave us officers memberships to a gym. The first time I saw Ronda, she was in a hot tub wearing next to mothing. I asked a buddy who she was, and he said she her name was Ronda Jameson, and she had recently been hired on after working as a part time deputy for the Sherriff’s Department.

            “As you know, David summoned Bathsheba to his palace. Obviously I didn’t do that. But a couple days after seeing Ronda, I was put in charge of a vice sting operation. I was asked to ask two female officers if they were interested in working undercover as prostitutes. Ronda was the first one I summoned. She was beyond excited at the opportunity and very grateful.

            “What I’ve told you so far makes it sound like I had nefarious intentions. But that wasn’t the case. I never, ever intended on an affair with Ronda. I never ever thought I would cheat on my wife. But back then I did live by the worldly philosophy, I’m married not buried. It’s okay to look but not touch. However, do you know what Jesus taught regarding this idea?”

            “I certainly do,” Tim replied. “If you look upon a woman with lust you have already committed adultery in your heart.” (Matthew 5:28)

            “Exactly! When I not only saw but studied Ronda in that hot tub, I began the process of adultery. My buddy even pointed out the fact that I was staring. But you know how guys can be. Without the shame I should have felt, I simply told him that I was honing my investigative skills.”

            Tim chuckled politely and asked, “So what was the straw that broke the camel’s back?”

            “It came about very complicated, yet simple if that makes sense.”

            “It doesn’t,” he laughed.

            “Ronda had an abrasive personality. She didn’t have many friends, and she didn’t care to make friends. But she took a liking to me. I think it was because I chose her for that special assignment when she was very much still a rookie.

            “Even though I found her attractive, I never, ever thought I would act on it. But figuring it was one sided, I didn’t think I had anything to worry about. Sure, I was one of the few people she allowed into her small circle of friends, but romance? She knew I was married, and although I was in good shape back then, I never won any beauty contests. And she was a knock out.

            “Plus there was another factor. Being one of the few people in her small circle of friends, I was also one of the few people that knew she was in a relationship with a woman. So add it all up and what do you get? A recipe that makes nothing, right?”

            “It would seem so,” Tim replied. Then he arched an eyebrow. “So what happened?”

            “Like you and Anna, we were having adult beverages together after work.”

            Tim shook his head. “Think of all the problems alcohol causes.”

            “Well Tim,” I said with a little smirk. “I can’t speak for you, but nobody was forcing it down my gullet. My brain kept instructing my hand to put the glass to my lips.”

            “Fair point.”

            “So we were at a favorite cop hang out,” I continued. “I normally never had more than one drink. But Ronda was picking my brain about my first years on the force. So I’m telling war stories and we’re downing beers. She’s leaning on her fist, listening intently, and smiling like I’m the most fascinating man on the planet.

            “We both lived twenty plus miles from the police station. It had also started snowing and there was a blizzard warning. In between the bar we were at and the police station, there was a Holiday Inn Express. All was within reasonable walking distance. Due to the weather and likely having to work overtime with the winter storm, I already had a room booked.”

            “Let me guess,” Tim interjected. “A winter storm led to a perfect storm for infidelity?”

            “You got it,” I replied and then sighed. “Between both of us having too much to drink and drive coupled with the storm, I invited her to my room. I suppose trying to come off as a gentleman, I told her there were two beds. But, yada, yada, yada, we ended up only using one.

            “But unlike you and Anna, ours wasn’t a one off after coming to our senses. We saw each other a half dozen more times over the next couple months. Then at one of our rendezvous’, instead of having sex, she very cooly informed me that she was pregnant and the affair was over. She threatened to make the affair public if I wanted to be part of the child’s life.

            “It was truly a nightmare and the most complicated predicament I had ever been in. Seemingly overnight she and I went from being lovers to enemies. I was worried for my job, worried for my marriage, and worried for my reputation. My wife was unable to have children so it also hurt to have a child I couldn’t acknowledge.

            “Ronda kept her word. I kept my distance, and she never divulged that I was the father. She stuck around until she had the baby, then when her maternity leave was over, she quit the force and worked for an insurance company or some such.

            “She was a complicated woman that I never did figure out. To this day I don’t know how genuine her feelings were for me. If she was acting during our fling, she deserves an Oscar. She just flipped a switch overnight and I became a leech in her eyes. I suspect she just used me as a sperm donor and once she was pregnant, my usefulness had expired.

            “Long story short, I confessed my infidelity to my wife. To my utter surprise she tearfully forgave me. But the tears were not due only to my betrayal. To my utter shock, she confessed of infidelity herself.”

            “Why did that shock you?”

            “My wife was and is very religious.”

            “I’ve come to realize that doesn’t mean much,” Tim said with a sigh. “I’ve always been quite religious myself.”

            I nodded solemnly and continued. “By the time our daughter was a preteen, Ronda and her partner had broken up. Our daughter was having behavior problems, and she finally wanted me to be part of her life. But talk about fire and ice. ‘Lou, meet your daughter. Now discipline her.’

            “So, my relationship with my daughter has been volatile and on again off again. And as I sit here with you today, I am sick inside wondering if Aliyah is covered in loathsome soars or not. She has had moments of being open spiritually. But even more moments of ‘don’t preach to me, Lou’. She never got around to calling me Dad.”

            “How old would she be now?” Tim asked.

            “She just turned nineteen.”

            Tim and I continued to chat when the greatest miracle of my life happened. There was a knock at our door. It was Inga. “Hey Double Lou, there’s a young lady here to see you. It’s yet another case of apparently being led here by an angel.”

            And there she was! Aliyah! And she had no soars!

            I was so relieved, so thankful that she was here and okay that I couldn’t stop the tears. Then I wept for joy after she ran to me with open arms and said, “Daddy!”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 13

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 13

LOIUS LEWIS

FEAR GOD AND GIVE GLORY TO HIM, FOR THE HOUR OF HIS JUDGEMENT HAS COME; AND WORSHIP HIM WHO MADE HEAVEN AND EARTH, THE SEA AND SPRINGS OF WATER (Revelation 14:7)

            “Lou, right now they’re single file,” Brock’s low voice said directly into my ear via an ear bud. “I still don’t know what kind of weapons they have. One of them is wearing black cargo pants and a black shirt. The other is wearing blue jeans and a green shirt. You take the guy in black; I’ll get the other. I’m moving in on them so I’m gonna be silent now.”

            Inga and I were in a make shift tent, a good half mile from the closest road. I could tell she was scared, but she had a determined look on her face. A crack from one of the tarps that worked as a shelter put a band of late afternoon sunlight across the top half of her face. It made me think of it as a mask of righteousness across the courageous young lady’s face. I was prepared to take a bullet for her if necessary.

            A few days ago, when I was still a police lieutenant, there was no way I would be part of a mission using a twenty something year old woman as bait to catch bad guys. No private citizen for that matter. Now I was a private citizen myself, and I guess playing a private detective. I ended up going along with a plan to entice some of those possibly involved with the murder of Inga’s sister into a trap.

            I also did another ‘no, no.’ I pulled a twenty-two pistol from a coat pocket and whispered, “Glow Eyes, have you ever shot a gun?”

            Her arctic blue eyes looked startled. But she still wore a stoic expression as she shook her head. I gave her an extra quick lesson, then sat the pistol not far from her. “Don’t touch this unless the bad guys somehow get the edge. But be of good courage, WE have the edge. They’re walking into a trap WE set. There’s three of us and two of them. And one of our three is Brock Storm.”

            She took hold of my hand that wasn’t pulling a Glock 17 from my other inside pocket. I looked at our joined hands and then at her. “We also have a decorated police veteran.”

            I forced a smile and refrained from saying former, but she did it for me. “Before you got fired.”

            I had discovered that Inga usually followed a compliment with a slight. Yet I’m not sure she did it on purpose. She was one of those people like Seven Sallie that had a hard time stopping their mouth from speaking what came to their mind.

            I could almost feel the approach of the bad guys, even though it was quiet. That is except for the noise of the woods. That being the chirping of birds and the chatter of squirrels. Then a twig snapped. Suddenly there was a rush of footsteps, and I aimed the Glock at the makeshift entrance. There was a brief scuffling sound, then Brock’s voice. “Lou, it’s me. You two can come out.”

            Inga and I exited the tent, and I scratched my head. The guy with the blue jeans and green shirt laid unconscious. The guy in all black had a bloody nose as Brock put handcuffs on him. As he did so, the suspect talked about wanting a lawyer.

            He continued. “I know my rights, all we have is knives and they are perfectly legal. That old pervert appeared to have kidnapped the young lady, and we thought he was gonna rape her.”

            Destiny and Zella came down the dear trail, with Destiny carrying a black tool bag.

            “You seem to be mistaken,” Brock said. “I’m not the police. I don’t care one bit about your rights. Just as you care nothing about the lives of Inga and Paloma Likas, and Priscilla Rosenwinkle. I only care about justice.”

            A propane torch in Brock’s right hand popped to life from a lighter in his left hand.

            “What are you doing?” the man in black asked nervously.

            “Executing justice for the murdered young ladies.”

            “We didn’t do it, I swear!”

            “Maybe not, but you know who did.”

            “No I don’t!”

            Brock flashed the flame across the man in black’s bare arm, and he howled at the dipping sun.

            “That was only a second, think what a minute, maybe two will be like,” Brock warned.

            To use an old fashioned gangster movie term, the man in black sang like a canary. No sooner had he finished, when FBI Agent Nora Medora came down the trail along with Benito Bonanno. They were accompanied with a few other Federal agents. At least I assumed they were since I was out of the loop.

            Inga sat on a nearby boulder, crossed her arms, hugging herself and watched a discussion ensue between Brock and Nora Medora. Zella went to her, and Inga sprang up like a jack in the box and hugged my cousin fiercely. Destiny joined them and rubbed Inga’s back. When Inga separated from Zella, she took Destiny’s hand and squeezed.

            I wasn’t good with emotional stuff. Maybe that’s yet another reason I ended up with marital problems. The Sunday law issue that came up between my wife and me was probably only the straw that broke the camel’s back. But I owed Inga, what? Respect? Gratitude?

            I approached the trio of women, and they all turned their gaze on me. Discomfort made my skin crawl, but I pressed on, duty bound. I made a fist, gently placed it on Inga’s upper arm and gave a little shove. “You did good, kid.”

            Those striking arctic blue eyes were watery as she looked into mine. She opened her arms and the next thing I knew I was in an embrace with the little twirp. It was like hugging a bag of bones. Although it was loose and awkward, it also felt surprisingly good and comforting. It seemed to allow everything I’d been holding back to flash before my mind. My marriage, my job, this little mission, what the future held.

             Then I heard whimpering and was horrified to realize that it was me. I braced myself for a smart-alecky remark. But she surprised me by kissing my cheek and saying, “Lou I know you’re going through a lot. Don’t feel embarrassed for having feelings. Remember, Jesus Himself wept.” (John 11:35)

            I gave a little shrug and nodded. Then she reverted back to the Inga I was more familiar with. She shoved me with both hands and said, “So who do you think you are?”

            “Who do I think I am? A man who is blessed to have friends like you during a time like this.”

            She chewed her lip, and her eyes watered some more. Her face scrunched up and she threw herself in my arms again, but this time our hug was tight. “You’re becoming like the grandfather I never had.”

            I felt myself frown. “You know, I’m actually three months younger than Zella.”

            “Oh, well, you just look a lot older, more gray, less peppy.”

            I turned our embrace into a bear hug, and she emitted a high pitched squeak. “Lou!”

            I released her and we both laughed. Then she looked at me with sympathy. “I don’t recall you ever laughing before.”

            The way I felt was either laugh or cry, right? But I didn’t tell her that.

            It felt really strange to be part of something like a police operation, yet not in the loop. It also felt strange being part of an operation where I questioned the ethics. The thing that bothered me was the threat of torture. What also troubled me was that the potential torturer had the reputation as a devout Christian.

            After the proverbial dust settled, Brock approached me. “Thanks for your help, Lou. You did great.”

            “Listen, Storm, can I ask you a question?”

            “Of course.”

            “Let me say first, you’re amazing at what you do. But…”

            “You had a problem with the torch incident,” he interrupted with a rueful smile.

            “I did. It’s not something I would have done as a police officer.”

            “You weren’t allowed to.”

            “True enough, but there’s plenty of bad cops that skirt rules and ethics.”

            “But you were a good cop.”

            “I tried to be.”

            “No, you were a good cop. Otherwise you wouldn’t have joined our side on the Sunday law issue. You care about doing what is right.”

            I shrugged, then gave him my own rueful smile. “Are you avoiding the question?”

            “You never asked one.”

            I frowned. He was right, he had interjected my discomfort with the torch. “Fair enough. How do you balance being a Bible believing Christian and torture?”

            “I didn’t torture anyone,” he said as he reached for the propane torch and lit it. He ran it across his arm just like the suspect. Only Brock winced rather than howled. “For the record, I was not gonna do any more than what I just did to myself.”

            “But you asked him how that torch would feel on his skin for a full minute or more?”

            “I never said I was gonna do it. I’m pretty sure he thought I was though. You may not agree with my tactics, Lou. But I suppose between my appearance and demeanor, I have only needed to give bad guys an implied threat. Keep in mind though, since becoming a Christian, I don’t do this chasing bad guys for a living anymore. Only when an acquaintance is in some type of trouble.”

            “Before becoming a Christian, did you follow through on threats?” I inquired.

            “You don’t want to know.”

            “Sure I do, or I wouldn’t have asked,” I replied, and then grinned. “But I think you actually answered my question by your avoidance.”

            “You are a good detective,” he replied with a smirk.

            The next few weeks for me were a blur. But not just because of my personal life. Every day the chaos in the headlines intensified with wars and rumors of wars, calamities, hunger and homelessness. Yet at the same time, false revivals across America were increasing in staggering numbers. Miracles and supernatural encounters abounded.

            A so called prophet that many believed was Jesus was adamant that the Bible Sabbath was changed to Sunday. My wife was one of the many that were buying in to it. Until then it seemed my wife and I might have been making headway in repairing our marriage.

            Then when I explained that Jesus’s second coming would be visible to all, and that there would be false Christ’s and false prophets, she didn’t like it. All of our endeavors at marital healing started to go sideways. Then the call for mandatory worship on Sunday became a reality. One would no longer be able to buy or sell unless they proved, mostly via their phones, that they had checked into a religious service. They could even do this through zoom if they were housebound.

            I vehemently refused to comply, and my marriage went from sideways to backwards. Karen filed for divorce and wanted me out of the house for good. She was very concerned that my refusal to comply with the Sunday laws would make her guilty by association.

            I never felt so alone that first day as I gathered some things and moved out. But things looked up rather quickly. My cousin Zella and I had fully repaired the breach that separated us for years. I joined her little band of believers, and they all, even her husband Seven, welcomed me with open arms.

            The Storm’s graciously invited me into their large home after my wife kicked me out of ours. They were living self-sufficiently. They had an abundant garden of which we all chipped in to help keep up with maintenance and harvest. There was also a network of fellow believer’s living the same way with all of us working together to defy the mark of the beast and its national Sunday law.

            God had a remnant people! During the loud cry, everyone was given a choice. Either embrace the commandments of God and the seventh day Sabbath of the Creator, or the commandments of men and Sunday, made popular by human tradition. Although most of humanity followed the beast and adhered to Sunday observance, many came out of spiritual Babylon and embraced the Bible Sabbath.

            The out pouring of the Holy Spirit was being experienced in abundance. Despite my many trials in the recent past, I had never experienced such peace and contentment as I did with my new life. There was a deep satisfaction that came from giving my all to God. Be still and know that I am God (Psalm 46:10) became something I had experienced to the fullest. But it wasn’t without its challenges.

            Seven Sallie spoke before congress. Brock and I accompanied him. It was dangerous. In some parts of the world, Sabbath keepers were being put in prison and even to death. Sabbath keepers were being blamed for the calamities and strife throughout the planet. And what happened in that government building that day did not make things better.

            Despite Seven Sallie fluently and eloquently explaining Bible truth, the majority of our political leaders would have none of it. Suddenly people began to get rashes. Then the rashes turned into blistering sores. A rancid smell filled the room. Murmurs turned into shrieks. I was beyond confused. Compared to my spiritual brethren, I was still somewhat of a child in Biblical matters.

            “What is going on?” I mumbled to Brock, dazed by what I was witnessing. Yet he, Seven, and I were unaffected by the sores.

            In a solemn voice he replied, “It seems to be the first of the seven last plagues.” (Revelation 16:1, 2)

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 11

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 11

ZELLA LaSTELLA SALLIE

BEHOLD, I SEND YOU OUT AS SHEEP IN THE MIDST OF WOLVES. THEREFORE BE WISE AS SERPENTS AND HARMLESS AS DOVES (Matthew 10:16)

            My whole body tensed when I opened the front door and saw my cousin standing on the stoop. Lieutenant Louis Lewis gazed at me with hound dog eyes, his hands jammed into his pockets. I froze because it had only been a day since my husband had been arrested for inciting civil disobedience on his podcast.

            But then as I took in the woebegone countenance of my one time childhood playmate, I recalled Seven telling me that Triple Lou had been not only fired but arrested himself for reiterating my husband’s call to obey God rather than men.

            “Lieutenant,” I greeted.

            “Former Lieutenant,” he corrected. Then he forced a smile. “You can call me Louie if you like.”

            I couldn’t help giggling. He hated being called Louie when we were kids. He often barked, “I’m Louis, with an s, not an e.”

            “How about Louis with an s,” I said with a warm smile.

            The curl at his lips didn’t seem forced this time. “Suit yourself, but I’m fine with Louie. I’m not a sensitive kid anymore that couldn’t wait to be a grown up. Now I’m a grown up that wishes he was a kid again.”

            “Seven told me what happened, I’m sorry.”

            He shrugged. “That might not be the worst of it. Karen and I got into a big argument today. It’s not good. Not good at all.”

            “Over what you told that TV reporter yesterday?”

            “Well, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. Actually, maybe I should say the boulder that broke the camel’s back. She has always been more churchy than me. When I studied out this Sabbath issue, I discussed my findings with her, and she didn’t like how I did an about face on the Sunday law situation. Her being quite religious, she was proud of the fact that I was in charge of Sunday ordinance enforcement in this area.”

            I felt like I should invite him in, but there were a couple areas of concern. For one thing this wasn’t my home. We were guests of Destiny and Brock Storm, who graciously took us in after our house was destroyed by fire. Destiny and I had been preparing dinner when the doorbell rang. With her hands covered in flour, she had asked me to answer the door.

            Another reason was the discussion at the kitchen table and its five occupants. Seven, Brock, Inga, Inga’s brother Brent, and Benito Bonanno were discussing a plan to capture Paloma’s killer. This plan entailed using Inga as bait; an agenda the former Lieutenant adamantly opposed.

            I looked over my shoulder and gave a start. Destiny was standing right behind me. She giggled. “Sorry, sweety, I didn’t mean to sneak up and have my ugly mug frighten you.”

            I laughed, but Louis Lewis spoke. “If you have an ugly mug, I’m an outright monster.”

            “He’s right, you’re anything but ugly,” I told her.

            Destiny was like a Barbie doll come to life. Only she dressed like a country girl in her usual attire of flannel shirt and jeans.

            “Ah shucks,” Destiny replied. Then she quickly dismissed the issue by asking, “Won’t you come in, Lieutenant?”

            “Former Lieutenant,” Louis Lewis corrected as he stepped through the threshold.

            “Oh, yes, sorry,” Destiny winced.

            “Hey Cous, you didn’t correct me when I said I looked like a monster,” Lou said as he walked into the Storm residence, eyeing me ruefully.

            I grinned and my heart soared. Not just at his lightheartedness, but because he called me cous after years of estrangement with my family. I reassured him, “You’re not a monster.”

            “Just ugly,” he said.

            “No, you’re not ugly either.”

            “Now, don’t be bearing false witness,” he said with a little smirk. But his eyes were contradictorily sad. “We come from some of the same gene pool, right?”

            “Of course, primarily Grandma Birdy and Grandpa Ike.”

            He nodded and asked, “So if you get to look like Halle Berry, why didn’t I get to look like Jamie Foxx?”

            I felt embarrassed at his offhand compliment and didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Inga sauntered up and put her left arm over my shoulders and her right around Destiny’s. “How do you think I feel hanging out with these two lovelies? I look like something the cat dragged in.”

            “Now, young lady,” Triple Lou said. “You’ve got a pair of the most striking eyes I’ve ever seen.”

            “Only because they’re so light blue they sometimes seem white. But my nose is pointy like a witch. My lips are thin, teeth are crooked, and my body looks like a scarecrow.”

            “You would look interesting with green skin,” Seven said as he joined us in the foyer. Then he bellowed after Inga kicked him in the shin. “Ouch!”

            “Opps, sorry,” Inga said with a mischievous smile. “I forgot I was wearing cowboy boots that Destiny gave me. They have kind of a hard point, don’t they?”

            “I can definitely verify that,” he groaned.

            “If you think Inga would look interesting green, I have to say, you look interesting with a red face dear,” I told my husband.

            “With comments like that, you won’t get any loving from me,” Seven declared.

            “Is that supposed to be a threat?” I replied with a smoldering grin and an arched eyebrow.

            Seven’s eyes widened as he seemed to realize how ridiculous his warning challenge was. “No, of course not, dear. I miss spoke. You can have as much of me any time I want.”

            “It should be you can have as much of me any time YOU want,” I mistakenly corrected, as I realized he said that on purpose.

            “Oh, okay!” Seven said happily as everyone laughed. “Thank you, Dear.”

            “So Lieutenant,” Destiny said cheerfully. “What can we do for you?”

            Lou looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. “Um, it’s former Lieutenant.”

            “Yeah, Seven told us that you were, um…”

            “Prison mates,” Seven broke in.

            “I was gonna say let go,” Destiny said, giving Seven a playful shove.

            “Fired would be more accurate, “Lou clarified.

            We all looked at him, and he gave each one of us an uneasy glance. Then he turned toward the door and said, “I better go.”

            I grabbed his hand and called him something I hadn’t since we were barely teenagers. “Louie, how come you stopped by if it isn’t police business?”

            Although he faced us again, his uneasy expression intensified. Destiny sought to put him at ease. “Mr. Lewis, you’re very welcome here. I guess we just didn’t know whether it was police business or pleasure.”

            “Um, well,” Lou shifted his feet and then rocked on his heels. “Everything is happening so fast. I mean several weeks ago I was in charge of Sunday ordinances. One of my tasks was to monitor Seven’s podcast. To be honest, I thought of him as an enemy. But I felt a need to be fair, so I studied out the issue and discovered I was on the wrong side of the issue. Now my position cost me my job and likely my marriage.”

            “So you and your wife disagree on the Sabbath issue?” Destiny asked.

            “We do,” he nodded. “But we’ve had some history with marital problems. We’ve separated a couple times during our twenty two years. It’s not easy being married to a cop, let alone a cop in charge of other cops. Ironically, when I was put in charge of the Sunday thing, it pleased her. It brought us together like we hadn’t been together since newlywed days. But when I turned to the other side, it, it… How do I put this?”

            Inga broke in. “Is it sort of like if you were put in charge of vice and then started seeing a hooker?”

            Lou gazed at her for a few seconds with hooded eyes, then acknowledged, “That’s kind of a creepy analogy, but I suppose it does make the point.”

            “So if you’re not here because of the investigations…,” I said. Then I asked warm and inviting, “Are you here for fellowship then?”

            With hands deep in his pockets, he shrugged a shoulder, and then nodded. “I guess so. Or maybe I’m looking for confirmation that I did the right thing.”

            As often as my husband liked to clown around, he did have a serious side. He usually seemed to know how to balance the two and now was one of those times. He read from the book of Matthew, chapter 10, verses 36-39:

            “A man’s enemies will be those of his own household. He who loves father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me. And he who loves son or daughter more is not worthy of Me. And he who does not take his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me. He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for My sake will find it.”

            “That’s easy for you to say,” Lou said solemnly. “You and Zellie came together seeking the truth.”

            “Not exactly,” I interjected. “Seven and I started seeing each other before we became converts. Seven went first, you might say, and I thought it was going to cause our brief relationship to end. But then I went to a prophecy seminar held by his then teenage daughter, Sevenia. It was during these that I experienced a transformation in my life and became converted.”

            “Fair enough,” Lou shrugged. “Guess I’m comparing apples to oranges. Everyone has their own trials.”

            A ding from the doorbell revealed FBI Agent Nora Medora. Destiny invited her in, and I noticed her eyes widen when she discovered Lou not only present but staring her down.

            “Oh, Lieutenant, hello,” she greeted my cousin.

            “Former Lieutenant,” he replied coolly.

            “I see,” she replied, then regained her composure, folded her arms and eyed him coolly. “I suppose you blame me.”

            “Well, you got the ball rolling,” he said and then sighed. “But no, I don’t blame you. I don’t like you, but I don’t blame you.”

            She snorted. “Tell me what you really think.”

            “I did,” he barked. “You do your job thoroughly, and by the book. But you’re also cold, and don’t care who you step on in the name of duty.”

            “I’m not gonna argue,” she said with a casual shrug. “You’re entitled to your opinion. But I don’t feel I step on people while fulfilling my duties. I had no desire or intention of you getting fired. I simply thought your superiors should understand your mind set and thereby get you back on track.”

            “Who’s to say I’m not on the right track?”

            “Look, I didn’t come here to argue. And I truly didn’t intend for you to get fired.”

            Lou put up his hands in a sign of truce. “And I truly don’t blame you for my firing. If I would have toed the line, I wouldn’t have lost my job. But I had to follow my convictions.”

            “Nora, why are you here?” Destiny inquired. “I don’t mean to sound unhospitable, but, you know, with all that’s been going on lately. Plus I doubt you came by hoping to find a Bible study to join.”

            “Right,” Agent Medora said, and then eyed Inga with true sympathy. I felt my toes curl with the look of compassion on the world hardened agent’s face. “I was just made aware that Pricilla Rosenwinkle was found dead in her apartment only a few hours after she arrived back in Las Vegas.”

            Inga gasped, but then cautiously asked, “From what, a drug overdose?”     

            Agent Medora drew in deep breath as she shook her head. “She was strangled.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 10

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 10

SEVEN SALLIE

  WE OUGHT TO OBEY GOD RATHER THAN MEN (Acts 5:29)

            When it rains it pours! As I sat in a holding cell at the county jail, this idea had never applied to me more than now. First Inga Cognito’s sister was found murdered down by the river. The next day an arsonist burned our house to the ground. Three days after that I was charged with civil disobedience and therefore arrested.

            I was given one phone call and chose my lawyer. He was not only a good friend, but a brother in Christ. He was also very astute. Just as the prophet Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with the king’s delicacies (Daniel 1:8), Roger Maxwell refrained from all artificial stimulants and ate whole foods rather than junk foods. His daily exercise routine also kept him in better shape than most twenty year olds, despite being sixty something.

            This fitness coupled with an unwavering faith in God made him, in my opinion, the most honest attorney on the planet. Those of us that were close to him affectionately called him Mad Max. Obviously his name was part of the reason we referred to him by this moniker. But there was something else.

            The other reason was an ironic twist of Roger Maxwell being just the opposite of angry. Even in heated court battles, Roger never lost control. As a matter of fact, his friendly countenance garnered him a second nickname, Mr. Roger. This one after the legendary host Fred Rogers of the children’s program ‘Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood’. He even looked a little similar to Fred.

            The first time I was arrested, an officer escorted Roger to my cell. So that’s what I was expecting the second time. But before he arrived, Lieutenant Louis Lewis entered with two officers. I found this curious.

            I was getting the feeling that his sympathies lay with our cause. But now he appeared to be coming to talk with me accompanied by two uniforms. But it only appeared that way. The trio went past my cell to the empty one next door. But it wasn’t empty for long. As Triple Lou entered my neighboring cell, one of the escorting officers, clearly the younger of the two, said, “Sorry to have to do this, Lieutenant.”

            “You’re just doing your job, son,” Triple Lou replied.

            “You don’t need to apologize,” the older uniform said. “He’s essentially our former Lieutenant. Didn’t earn the rank either, got it for another reason.”

            “Is that right, Hanover?” Triple Lou said testily. “What would that be?”

            “I think you know. You’re the one that busted me from sergeant for getting rough with one of your kind.”

            “What’s my kind, Hanover?”

            “This…” Hanover was beginning to say a racial slur but stopped himself. “This lowlife was resisting arrest, and I put the poor little angel in the squad car too rough.”

            “The poor little angel was knocked unconscious and had to get a dozen stiches, because my undisciplined officer slammed his head into edge of the car’s roof. I wanted to fire you, not just demote you, but I got overruled.”

            “Jail duty on top of it,” Hanover complained. “I’d have been better off fired. Do you know how many low life’s I’ve had to see drop their drawers and bend over?”

            “Don’t lie, you probably enjoy that, Hanover,” Triple Lou said testily.

            The young officer looked like a deer in the headlights. I’m sure I looked a little stunned myself. I had gotten to know Lieutenant Louis Lewis a little over the previous weeks, and he was one of the most even keeled people I had ever met. So to see him lose control, if that’s what his comment suggested, I was a little surprised.

            Hanover turned and began to walk away. As he did so, he said, “I better get out of here before I get another charge of police brutality.”

            Triple Lou snorted, shook his head, and folded his arms across his hefty chest.

            In a voice like a 1930’s gangster, I asked, “Hey pal, what cha ya in for?”

            He glared at me, his dark eyes looking like burning coals in their sockets. “Why did our lives have to cross paths?”

            His comment took me by surprise. When that happens, my mouth often cracks wise before my brain can stop it. “Well, I’m quite fond of you too, Lou.”

            He snorted, sat down hard on his cot and glared at me. I sat on my cot and raised my eyebrows at him. “Please Lou, I don’t mean to be flippant. But how on earth did you end up in a jail cell?”

            “For defending your fool mouth.”

            “My foul mouth? What do you mean? I don’t swear or talk crude.”

            “Your fool mouth, fool.”

            “Oh, fool, as in foolish.”

            “Ding, ding, ding, give the man a prize.”

            “Now you’re calling me a ding bat?”

            Triple Lou dragged a hand over his weary hound dog face. I truly thought he said foul rather than fool. But now I was being facetious with ding bat. Thinking better of it, I got us back on track.

            “Listen, Lieutenant…”

            “Former Lieutenant,” he interrupted.

            “Okay, listen, Lou…Is. I’m sorry if you got in trouble over me, but…”

            “No if about it,” he interrupted again.

            “Like I said, sorry. But if you wouldn’t mind, tell me how this came about.”

            He sighed. “It started with Agent Medora. She and I got into a debate about the Sabbath. I was defending your position. Long story short, she threatened to tell my superiors that I was rebelling against the Sunday laws. She followed through, and as I was sitting in your church the other day, I got notified by my Captain that I was suspended. When I went in to talk with him and the chief, they were not happy with my position. Then today they decided to fire me. I cleaned out my desk, and when I exited the station, low and behold, the press was there. After I explained my getting fired, they asked me about you and your latest arrest. They said you were inciting people to disobey mandatory worship. They asked if I agreed with you, and I said your dog gone tootin. Then I expanded on the topic. Next thing I know, I’m cuffed and stuffed.”

            “Dog gone it, Lou, you shouldn’t have sworn at ‘em.”

            “I didn’t swear… Sallie, I don’t know about you.”

            “Sorry, sometimes my mouth speaks before my brain can stop it.”

            “Sometimes? How about most times. Your mouth is why you’re sitting in lock up.”

            “I guess you’d know,” I said and then winced. “Sorry, there I go again. But so much for free speech. I guess it’s a thing of the past. Huh?”

            “Yeah,” he sighed. “But it is confusing.”

            “What is?”

            “I mean all of the revivals and miracles that have taken place seem to have combated crime and violence better than law enforcement. I can see why there has been a call to worship. I do question whether I made the right stand.”

            “This was prophesied to happen.”

            He snorted. “What, me ending up in a neighboring jail cell with you?”

            “No, that right before Christ returns there would be a controversy over the law of God. The Sabbath aspect of the Ten Commandments in particular. Obviously the Sabbath was instituted at Creation (Genesis 2:2,3). So I find it fascinating that Revelation 14:7 instructs us to worship Him who made heaven and earth. Then in verse 12, it says here are they who keep the commandments of God. Which obviously includes the fourth.”

            “At this point you’re preaching to the choir. I wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t have a basic understanding of the prophesies.”

            “You’re the one that said you were confused.”

            “I know, I know,” he said waving a hand. “But it’s one thing to be sitting in my study reading about it. It’s another thing to lose my job and get arrested in a protest.”

            “Remember that you’re gaining treasure in heaven,” I reassured him. (Matthew 6:20) “All things are possible to him who believes.” (Mark 9:23)

            He nodded but said, “Lord I believe help me with my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24)

            The main door opened and the young officer that was with Hanover escorted a bedraggled looking man with a scraggly gray beard into a cell. Then he stopped in front of me and said, “I’ll be coming back in a few minutes to take you before the judge. Your lawyer is here as well.”

            “Thank you, officer,” I replied.

            He grinned at me. “I don’t get thanked by the inmates very often.”

            After the officer left, I said, “I should be home by supper then.”

            “I wouldn’t count on that,” Triple Lou said.

            “What do you mean?”

            “This is your second misdemeanor. Two together equals a felony. You’ll be transferred to the main jail indefinitely awaiting trial.”

            My whole body electrified, and I numbly said, “You’re kidding?”

            With a deadpan expression he said, “Yes I am.”

            His face was so utterly serious, I repeated, “You are kidding, right?”

            For the first time in our short relationship, I saw him not only smile but laugh. Then he said, “How does it feel, Mr. Jokester?”

            I felt relief wash over me as I grinned back at him. It was an odd place to be sharing a bit mirth with each other. Especially for the first time in what was actually becoming a friendship. It made me think of when Paul and Silas prayed and sang hymns in prison. (Acts 16:25)

            (Writer’s note: I would just like to reiterate that this is a work of fiction, and my imagined scenario of future prophetic events is simply what I’ve been envisioning could happen, not what will happen. Just as no one knows the day or hour of our Lord’s return (Matthew 24:36), no one knows the exact circumstances that will bring about the final events and test for humanity and God’s people. Only that it will center on the law of God vs. the law of man. In other words a combined religious/political system in the future will institute a system where you will not be allowed to buy or sell unless you have this mark of the beast (Revelation 13:16,17).

            I personally believe the particular test point will be over the  Biblical Seventh Day Sabbath, opposed to Sunday. Sunday as a sabbath really took flight when Constantine made Christianity a legal religion in the fourth century. A side effect of this legal religion was many pagan rites were brought into this church/state religion. One crucial aspect had to do with sun worship and the venerable day of the Sun. So Sunday quickly evolved into the day most of Christianity recognized as the Sabbath.

            If you would like a more concise study on prophetic issues that go much deeper than my little story, issues like America in prophecy, who is the antichrist, what is the mark of the beast, I have a couple suggestions which I have mentioned before. Amazing Facts Ministry has excellent study materials. You can also find their main speaker, Doug Batchelor, on YouTube. Also on YouTube, and maybe my favorite prophecy series, is David Asscherick’s ‘Five Good Reasons.’

            One more thing I would like to reiterate while I am here. I do this because I love to write, but these stories are rough manuscripts. My wife is my first reader, and although I am very pleased with her work, she is not a professional editor. So there will be errors and inconsistencies from time to time. That said, thank you for your interest! May God richly bless you and yours!)

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 8

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 8

ZELLA LaSTELLA-SALLIE

IN ME (JESUS) YOU MAY HAVE PEACE. IN THE WORLD YOU WILL HAVE TRIBULATION, BUT BE OF GOOD CHEER, I HAVE OVERCOME THE WORLD. (John 16:33)

            As we all stared at the bedraggled, trembling man in handcuffs, Inga began to shake her head emphatically. She looked at Triple Lou. “Lieutenant, there’s no way Don killed our sister.”

            “Do you know this man then?” he asked.

            “I just know he went by Donny. We were acquainted in the homeless community. He can barely tie his shoes, let alone… Well, you know what happened. Besides, like I told you before, very few people here knew me as Inga Cognito. Just the Sallie’s and some of your officers.”

            “What’s this about Inga Cognito?” Brent asked. “You often called yourself that when we were kids.”

            The Lieutenant pulled her brother aside and spoke in a low voice so Inga wouldn’t have to hear the description of their deceased sister again. Then he explained to Brent about the words carved into Paloma’s flesh, ‘Inga Cognito is a fake.’

            Brent’s jaw clenched as he looked at his sister. His gaze was fierce but softened as he took in the sight of Inga meekly chewing her lower lip. Her arctic blue eyes were wide and frightened as she perceived what Triple Lou had told her brother.

            “I’m taking a leave of absence and staying with you, Sis,” Brent told her.

            Inga looked at me and then my husband. “But I’m living, I mean staying with the Sallies”

            “I’ll get an extended stay hotel or something,” he told her.

            “You’re welcome to stay with us,” I offered.

            “I don’t want to impose.”

            “It’s no imposition.”

            Seven stepped next to me and whispered like a ventriloquist. “Honey, he doesn’t want to impose.”

            “I insist,” I told Brent. In the Biblical parable of the two sons, Seven was very much like the son who initially said no but went. So now I whispered like a ventriloquist into my husband’s ear. “Inga’s sister was murdered; she needs her brother. She needs the stability of our home.”

            “We insist Brent,” Seven said.

            “Are you sure?” Brent asked.

            “Absolutely,” my husband reassured him. Then he spoke as if it were his own idea. “She’s been staying with us for a couple weeks, and could use the stability and familiarity she’s found in our home.”

            He grinned at me. Suspicious of possible smugness, I stepped on his foot and ground my heel in just a little. He grunted, groaned, and then frowned at me. I gave him a sweet smile. “Oops, sorry, Honey.”

            A uniformed officer entered the room escorting a fifty something year old man with a long gray beard and a long gray ponytail. His gray eyes were intense. By his side was a tall red haired young lady who appeared to be in her late teens or early twenties.

            They were an odd pair. He looked like an old hippie stoner in his faded jean jacket and jeans. She was rather goth in appearance. Two small rings adorned her lower lip. She wore a black t-shirt with little red skulls all over the front and back. Black jeans that were ripped and torn with red tights underneath, and motorcycle boots.

            “Lou,” the officer said. “This young lady and gentleman say they may have information on the murder of Paloma Likas.”

            “Little Priscilly!” Inga exclaimed as the two women embraced. “Only you’re not so little anymore.”

            Priscilly appeared to be all of six feet tall, compared to Inga’s five foot six. Then she and Brent exchanged greetings, only they shook hands rather than hugged.

            “I’m so sorry about Pal,” Priscilla Rosenwinkle told the siblings. Inga nodded, and both women wept as Brent looked solemnly at his shoes.

            Triple Lou gave them a minute and then spoke to the old stoner. “You say you have information regarding the murder of Paloma Likas?”

            “I do,” the man replied and handed the lieutenant some type of credentials.

            Triple Lou frowned as he read, then his eyebrows raised as he looked at the stoner. “Agent Jeffery Tull, FBI?”

            “At your service,” the federal agent acknowledged with a little bow.

            “Any relation to the musician Jethro Tull?” Seven asked with a little grin.

            I rolled my eyes. Why did my husband always have to think he was funny?

            “Haven’t heard that one before,” Jeffry Tull responded with a straight face. “You do know Jethro Tull is the name of a band, not a person. Well, I mean, he was person, but he was a British agriculturist or something, not the writer of ‘Locomotive Breath’.”

            “I knew that,” Seven said, waving a dismissive hand. “I was just…”

            “Thinking he was funny,” I interrupted.

            “Trying to be light hearted during a tense situation,” Seven said looking at me with such a serious expression I had to purse my lips to keep from giggling.

            Triple Lou waved a commanding hand. “Okay, enough with rock history. What’s your story, Agent Tull?”

            “I’ve been undercover at Bryson Bronx’s compound for quite some time. I can’t give any details on what for, that’s confidential. Pricilla here is an informant of mine. Long story short, one of Bronx’s hench men fancied her, so she got close to him to help me out.”

            “You could say I prostituted myself for justice,” Priscilla cut in.

            Agent Tull eyed her for several seconds. Whether his gaze held scorn or admiration, I couldn’t tell.

            “Anyway, I’ve been there for going on a year and I got nothing. But then about a month ago Priscilla was able to get a tap on her lover’s phone.”

            Priscilla scrunched up her face. “Don’t call him my lover!”

            “Sorry. He goes by the nickname Buzz. Anyway, Priscilla’s sister got word that Bryson heard that Inga was part of a homeless community here in Iowa. Then low and behold, an hour after Priscilla gets word that Bryson knows Inga’s whereabouts, Bryson gets an assignment to come to Iowa. Coincidence? I think not.”

            “But I couldn’t get a hold of Jeffery,” Priscilla cut in. “He always told me if I found something out to only go to him. But I needed to do something, I didn’t know how to get a hold of Inga. So I told Paloma, thinking she would know what to do. I didn’t realize she would come out here and get herself…”

            She looked at Inga guiltily. Inga hugged her again. “It’s not your fault.”

            “Talk about bad timing. I was on a three day retreat looking for UFO’s,” Agent Tull said with a look on his face that said he thought such a thing ridiculous. “No phones allowed, and we also fasted. Talk about a long three days. But I couldn’t say no, or my cover would have been blown.”

            “As soon as I told Jeffery, we took a red eye out here,” Priscilla said.

            “My cover is likely blown now,” Agent Tull shrugged. “But here’s the thing. They know they killed the wrong sister. They sent Bryson a picture and his reply was twofold. He told them, ‘look at the eyes you idiots! That’s Paloma, not Inga. And if Inga’s out there your phones have been bugged.’ They obviously ditched them. Before we came here to the police station, I traced Buzz’s phone to the Cedar River.”

            “So you think they’re still around?” Brent asked Agent Tull.

            “At this point I can only speculate,” he replied. “But yes, that’d be my best guess.”

            “How in the world will we find them?” Brent asked.

            Inga stared at her brother. Like me, she probably noticed he said ‘we.’ She boldly declared, “I need to be a decoy.”

            “Oh no, you’re not,” Triple Lou responded, shaking his head and waving his arms like a football official signaling no catch or missed field goal. “I can not put a citizen in harm’s way like that.”

            “You also can’t deny a citizen their freedom to walk the streets,” Inga said.

            Giving her a hard look, the Lieutenant said, “As long as the citizen abides by the law and doesn’t, say, shop lift.”

            Inga gave her brother a nervous glance and then looked away, ashamed. I stepped to her, put my arm around her shoulder, and tugged her into myself. She looked at me and I gave her a reassuring smile. My whole gesture implying the Apostle John’s beautiful words from 1 John 1:9. ‘If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’

            She forced a smile in recognition. Then she added her own spiritual reassurance, saying, “Be still and know that I am God?” (Psalm 46:10)

            “Right,” I responded, still smiling.

            Little did I know that I would need to completely rely on her admonition in the coming days. About ten seconds after her words of encouragement, a uniformed officer burst into the room. With a voice filled with urgency, he declared, “Lou, there’s a four alarm fire! It’s Sallie’s home, Sir, and it’s fully engulfed!”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 5

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 5

ZELLA LaSTELLA-SALLIE

HE HEALS THE BROKENHEARTED AND BINDS UP THEIR WOUNDS (Psalm 147:3)

            I felt a wave of anxiety when I saw Lieutenant Louis Lewis’s unmarked police car in our driveway. Then it transformed into anger. I had been paying close attention to my husband’s podcast and knew for a fact he said nothing amiss about the national Sunday laws.

            The worst, according to officials and authorities anyway, would be his explaining the Holy Scriptures rather than the traditions of men (Mark 7:8, 9) and for teaching the Biblical Sabbath rather than the commandments of men (Matthew 15:9). But it seemed we were rapidly losing the right to free speech.

            My jaw was clenched as I made my way to the front door of our home, so I tried to think positive. Maybe my cousin, the lieutenant, had shown up to make amends for the rift between him, his family, and me. They had judged me for the way I lived my life in my teens and early twenties. Fair enough, I can see how I might have brought shame to my conservative family.

            But even when I experienced a spiritual conversion, when I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Savior, it still wasn’t good enough because I worshiped on a different day from them. This only caused more disapproval from them when national Sunday laws were established. Yet not one of them opened the Word of God to show me my error from Bible.

            I was barely through the door when Seven pulled me into an embrace. This felt odd because I could see Triple Lou sitting at our kitchen table watching us. Nonetheless, I took the opportunity to inquire about my cousin’s visit. Placing my lips a quarter inch from my husband’s ear, I asked, “Are you in trouble again?”

            In a low voice and looking me in the eyes, his own gaze as intense as I had ever seen it, he said, “Don’t panic, Inga is alright. Physically anyway. So, your cousin had reason to believe she was murdered. But it turned out to be, possibly, a relative of Inga’s. But she became distraught and ran into her room. Maybe you should go to her.”

            “I will,” I replied as I dashed off. Inga hadn’t closed the door, so I peeked in. She was lying face down on the bed with her forehead resting on her crossed forearms. She was whimpering and I softly spoke her name. “Inga, honey?”

            Her head popped up and she turned to look at me. Then she rolled off the bed and took a couple quick steps toward me. For the second time in only a minute, I found myself in a tight embrace. Only this time the hugger buried her face in my neck and sobbed.

            “Ssshh,”  I soothed as I stroked her hair.

            “My Pal, Pal is gone,” she croaked when she calmed a bit. “The only person I truly ever loved.”

            “Was she your best friend, Honey?”

            “Yes. Not only that, she’s my sister… Was my sister.”

            Saying ‘was my sister’ brought on another round of hard sobs into my neck. I could feel the wetness on my skin, but I didn’t care whether it was tears, slobber, or even snot. Apparently, she became aware of the moisture she was expelling onto me as well. She quickly separated from me and grabbed at a tissue box on the nightstand.

            “I’m so sorry,” she said, and with trembling fingers she pressed the Kleenex to my neck and shoulder.

            I put my hand gently over hers. “It’s okay, Honey. Why don’t you sit down.”

            “I don’t know what to do,” Inga croaked as she plopped hard onto the bed.

            “I didn’t know you had a sister,” I told my friend of only about two weeks as I crouched in front of her. “We could have put her up as well.”

            “I didn’t know she was in town,” Inga replied as if guilty of something.

            “Where did you think she was?”

            “In Nevada, probably Las Vegas.”

            “Can I ask why you weren’t with her?”

            “Because she was employed by the oldest profession, and I’d rather be homeless than do that, or even be supported by that.”

            “Why are you homeless, Honey? Where did you grow up?”

            Her grief turned to a look of alarm, but then she calmly said, “I better go talk to Triple Lou. I do not want to go over my life twice.”

            “I’m sorry, Honey, I shouldn’t pry.”

            She fiddled nervously with her fingers as new tears leaked from her eyes. With quivering lips, she said, “I’m so sorry, Zella.”

            “Honey, for what?” I replied, incredulous. “You just found out that your sister was… You know… So why would you need to apologize?”

            “Because you took a chance on a homeless woman, and what do I do? I bring this… This trouble to your home.”

            “It’s not your fault.”

            “Does God hate me?” she squeaked.

            “Oh Honey, no!” I told her as I sat on the bed next to her, putting my arm around her. She leaned her head into the crook of my neck. I almost asked why she would say that. But obviously she had just found out that her sister had been murdered. I prayed silently. “Lord, what do I say?”

            “Honey,” I began. “It seems to me God put you in our path for such a time as this. You might have been killed with her. You weren’t. Not only that, you have us to help you get through this crisis.”

            “You mean you’re not gonna kick me out?”

            “Oh course not! Why would you think that?”

            “Well, Triple Lou is gonna want to know where we came from. Once you hear… I don’t know… I won’t hold it against you if you decide differently.”

            I opened my mouth to protest. But then I closed it. Although I didn’t believe the worst about Inga, did I really know her? Yet I trusted the Holy Spirit when He urged us to take her in. However, when I opened my mouth a second time, I said, “Do you feel up to talking to the Lieutenant now?”

            “I guess so,” she replied, but eyed me curiously. “Do you see him more as Lieutenant Louis Lewis or Cousin Louis Lewis?”

            “Right now as Lieutenant.”

            “Because of my sister?”

            “No, because I’m mostly estranged from my family.”

            “May I ask why?”

            “First because I got involved with racy things.”

            “You mean by marrying Seven?”

            “No, not race as in ethnic background, but racy as in lewd. I was a nude model.”

            “So you did porn?”

            “No, it was, um, erotica.”

            “What’s the difference?”

            “I didn’t have sex on film. Well, very minimal anyway.”

            “What do you mean by minimal?”

            “Honey, this doesn’t seem to be a good time for this discussion.”

            “You’re right, I know. I guess I’m both stalling and trying to understand how much I can trust Triple Lou.”

            “With this, I’d say you can trust him.”

            “Just not with the Sabbath inquisition.”

            “Yeah,” I smiled sadly. “It is weird that my family has shown more hostility at me not following the mainstream on the Sunday laws than they were for me being a centerfold. I thought when I repented, reformed, and accepted Christ and Christianity it would put me back in good graces with them. But apparently it wasn’t the right kind of Christianity. So instead the wedge in our relationships became deeper and, well, more wedged.”

            I stood and offered my hand to Inga. She sighed, stood, and put a limp hand in mine. “My head is swirling with so many things, Zella. Mostly grief and fear.”

            “I know, Honey. But trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5)

            “I will,” she said as her grip on my hand tightened. She eyed me earnestly for a few seconds. “Because the Lord put you and Seven in my life for such a time as this, right?”

            “Right, Sweety.”

            Inga and I walked hand in hand toward Lieutenant Louis Lewis and sat at the kitchen table with him. The first thing he said to Inga was, “I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Likas.”

            “Thank you,” she replied meekly.

            With an odd mixture of stern and gentle, he asked, “Do you have any idea who might have killed your sister?”

            Inga took a deep breath. “My best guess would be my former fiancée.”

            I felt myself tense. Inga had a former fiancée?

            “And do you have any idea why this former fiancée would want your sister, and maybe even you, dead?”

            “He was a wealthy and polygamous cult leader. When I turned sixteen he chose me to be his seventh wife. My sister helped me escape.”

            “You’re now, what? Twenty four?”

            “Yes.”

            “So that was eight years ago. What makes you think he would still be after you all these years later?”

            “I have my reasons. But the short answer is, he’s demonic and vindictive. He also thinks I have supernatural powers he can somehow harness.”

            “Do you think you have supernatural powers?” Triple Lou asked with an arched eyebrow.

            Inga just shrugged. I was puzzled by this response.  Triple Lou frowned and seemed to peer into her unique arctic blue eyes. Then knowing Seven and I didn’t flow with the mainstream, he glanced dubiously at my husband and then me. My cousin Lou and I got along great as children. What happened that as adults we seemed to regard each other with suspicion and disapproval?

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 1

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 1

SEVEN SALLIE

NOW THE LORD IS THE SPIRIT; AND WHERE THE SPIRIT OF THE LORD IS, THERE IS LIBERTY (2 Corinthians 3:17)

            As I exited the courtroom, a young lady that had been ahead of me for shoplifting stepped up next to me. She said, “I’m surprised they let you go.”

            She appeared to be in her thirties. I’m not good at guessing ages, but my wife is. Her shoulder length dark brown hair was dread locked and grungy looking. Her jeans were dirty, her black converse sneakers had seen better days, and her faded flannel shirt was frayed at the cuffs. My first impression was homeless, and I wasn’t wrong.

            “Why do say that?” I asked cheerily with an arched eyebrow.

            “Triple Lou brought you in himself,” she said as if this delighted her.

            “Triple Lou?” I inquired, arching my eyebrow a little higher.

            “You know, Lieutenant Louis Lewis,” she said, separating lieutenant and making it sound like two separate words. Lou tenant. “So what did you do? The plaintiff wouldn’t let me stay in the courtroom to hear you go before the judge.”

            “The official charge was inciting civil disobedience.”

            “Wow!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening. They were the brightest blue I had ever seen in a pair of peepers. I even wondered if she wore colored contacts. “What kind?”

            “On my podcast I encouraged people to keep the Biblical Sabbath. The Sunday ordinance will lead to mandatory worship and that would be unconstitutional.”

            “That’s pretty lame,” she said dejectedly.

            “Yeah, thankfully the judge thought it was a pretty lame charge as well.”

            “No, what I meant by lame, was when you said civil disobedience, I assumed you organized a riot or something.”

            “Sorry to disappoint you.”

            She eyed me thoughtfully, putting a finger on her chin. Then her eyes widened again. “Hey, didn’t you used to be Seven Sallie?”

            “Actually I still am.”

            “No you’re not.”

            “What do you mean ‘no I’m not?’”

            “I mean you used to be crazy popular. Somewhere between Rush Limbaugh and Bill Maher. Then you just suddenly fell off the map. What’d you do, have a sex scandal or something? Or are you some kind of pervert?”

            I liked this girl; she was spunky. However, my hands did feel the slight urge to go around her neck. “My name is still Seven Sallie, regardless of a drop in popularity. What’s your name?”

            “Inga,” she replied.

            “Inga what?”

            “Cognito.”

            I smiled. “Your name is Inga Cognito?”

            “Your name is really Seven?”

            “It’s my actual middle name,” I told her, pulling out my driver’s license and handing it to her. Her eyebrows arched in surprise. I suppose because I trusted her enough to hand over my personal ID.

            “Sebastion is your first name?” she asked with a look on her face as if she bit into something sour.

            “It is.”

            “No wonder you go by Seven. Why is your middle name Seven?”

            “I was the seventh of seven kids. My twin brother’s middle name is Six.”

            “So are your other sibling’s middle names one, two, three, four, and five?”

            “No,” I replied. “So what is your real name?”

            She handed me back my license and pulled a book bag off her shoulders. She dug into it and pulled out an ID. It wasn’t a driver’s license; just an official state issued ID from California. If it wasn’t a fake, she was only twenty four. What kind of life had she lived that she looked like she could be in her thirties? My hands no longer wanted to go around her skinny neck. I felt more inclined hug to her.

            “Inga Marie Likus,” I said.

            “That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” she said casually. “So you didn’t tell me. How did you fall off the map from your popular radio show?”

            “I simply changed my main broadcast topic from politics to teaching the Bible and religious history. Most of my sponsors let me go, so I was forced to start my own podcast, losing most of my listeners in the process.”

            “So it was becoming a Christian, rather than being a perv?”

            “Sorry to disappoint you.”

            “I’m not disappointed at all,” she said, and pulled a pocket size Bible from her flannel shirt. “I’m a believer too.”

            “That’s good!” I told her. I paused, and very gently asked, “So why did you shop lift then?”

            She looked me square in the eyes. “Because I hadn’t eaten in two days.”

            Although it was she that broke the eighth commandment, it was me that felt a sense of shame. Meekly, I replied, “I see.”

            I looked at my shoes in the bustling courthouse hall. I was relieved when my wife stepped to my side. “Inga, this is my wife, Zella. Zella, Inga Cognito.”

            “Inga Cognito?” My wife frowned.

            “Oh, he’s crazy. My name is Inga Likus.”

            My wife looked rather puzzled about me conversing with this wild looking young lady. But then she smiled warmly at her when Inga declared, “Wow, what are you an African princess?”

            “No, I’m afraid not.”

            “You look like Karrueche Tran.”

            “I assume that’s a complement, so thank you.”

            “It is, she’s lovely. So what are you doing with this very pale radio has been?”

            The urge to put my hands around her neck was returning.

            “I don’t know,” Zella said, looking at me with a frown. Then she grinned and winked.

            “Inga here is shop lifter,” I said, then instantly regretted it. “Sorry, that was low.”

            Inga simply shrugged. “Only when I’m hungry or otherwise need something to survive.”

            “Where do you live?” Zella asked.

            “In a tent, if it’s still where I left it.”

            “Hey,” Zella said, her face lighting up. “Our son is up in Minnesota for the summer at his grandparents farm. You could stay in his room for a while to get back on your feet.”

            I looked at my wife, stunned. Then realized I was shaking my head. I turned my gaze onto Inga, and she was looking at me with a sad countenance. “That’s okay, I’ve never had solid footing to get my feet back onto.”

            Jesus’s words flashed through my mind. “Whatever you have done to one of the least of these My brothers and sisters, you’ve done for me.” (Matthew 25:40, 45)

            “Zella is right,” I told Inga. “Please come and stay with us, and we’ll help you get your feet on solid ground.”

            “Why would you invite me into your home?” she asked meekly. “One of the only things you know about me is that I’m a thief.”

            I felt my toes curl. Was this a warning? Oh well, anything she might steal from us was replaceable. But the Holy Spirit, also known as The Comforter, comforted me by giving me these words. “Another thing I know about you is you carry a pocket size New Testament with you.”

            Zella happily took hold of one of Inga’s hands. Inga pulled back, a little startled. But then she let my lovely wife hold her hand. “Inga, come have supper with us. I made a lasagna and there’s plenty. Then take a long shower while I prepare your bed for you.”

            Inga had a look of awe and gratitude on her face, like we were offering a great gift. It occurred to me how often we take for granted everyday blessings. She croaked, “Okay, thank you.”

            Over dinner, Inga was reluctant to say much about herself. When I asked how she ended up in Iowa, clear from the west coast, all she said was a girl she knew was coming here and that there were more jobs to be had than in California. Inga had now been in Iowa six weeks and had not found a job. She shrugged and said, “Kind of hard when you have no address to put down on an application.”

            Inga certainly took Zella up on a long shower. I heard the water running for almost a half an hour. I think the only reason she stopped was she ran out of hot water. When she was done, Zella helped her get settled in the bedroom. I’m ashamed to say, I stood outside the closed door and eavesdropped.

            “Oooooh, this is so comfortable.” I heard Inga purr.

            “I’m glad you like it,” Zella enthused.

            “I love it! Thank you so much!”

            “You’re very welcome.”

            “I haven’t slept in something softer than my sleeping bag in four years.”

            My mind’s eye saw the tattered sleeping bag as she carried it into our house.

            “I’m so glad you like it, goodnight.”

            I heard the door handle jiggle and quickly tiptoed the short distance to our living room. I sat down on the couch and picked up a book. Zella walked briskly toward me with what appeared to be a stern expression. My first thought was that she was gonna scold me for eavesdropping. But how could she know?

            Instead, my wife sat down hard next to me on the sofa, grabbed a decorative pillow, pressed it to her face and sobbed.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 16

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 16

NANCY

YOUR ADVERSARY THE DEVIL WALKS ABOUT LIKE A ROARING LION, SEEKING WHOM HE MAY DEVOUR. (1Peter 5:8)

          “If you’ve always felt anxious about seeing him, why do want to meet with him?” Drew asked me.

          “I’m not afraid anymore,” I said boldly, exercising my new faith. “The Lord has given me a spirit of power, love, and a sound mind, not fear.”

          Drew was pleased, his smile loving. And this made me happy as he said, “Quoting 2 Timothy 1:7, very nice.”

          “I need to thank him in person,” I told Drew.

          “How did he rescue you?”

          I had never talked of my escape, and until now, Drew had never asked.

          “He jumped through a picture window.”

          “Huh?”

          “When I was… being used… for… you know.”

          “Yeah,” he said, taking my hand and giving it a supporting squeeze.

          “I usually did what I was told, otherwise I was punished. But the last time I was subjected to their perversion, I broke. When they told Justin to join me on the bed, I started crying. The person who impregnated my mom barked at me to get it together. I tried to reverse the sobs, but I was still choking out these little whimpers.

          “Justin had this look on his face as I tried to hold it together. I don’t really know what was in his expression. Compassion, fear, uncertainty, I don’t know. But all of a sudden, he leapt from the bed and dashed down the stairs. The three guys that were about to film us shouted for him to get back as two gave chase. One watched me.

          “Only seconds after he dashed from the room I heard the crash of breaking glass. He dove through the living room window of the big house we were in. The neighbors across the street were out doing yard work. As soon as they saw a ten year old boy, who wasn’t wearing any clothes, fall into the front yard in a spray of glass, they called 911.”

          I had been pacing as I spoke. As I told of Justin jumping through a picture, I found myself standing in front of the living room window of the Aldo’s home. I felt Drew’s arms go around me, spooning me into himself. It was then I realized that I was trembling. His embrace was like a warm blanket on a cold night. The more I experienced it, the more it felt like home. I couldn’t wait to hold the title of wife.

          “I guess I misspoke a moment ago,” I told him after I felt the softness of his lips just ahead of my right ear.

          “About what?”

          “About having no fear.”

          “I beg to differ.”

          “What do you mean?”

          “You stopped trembling.”

          Reluctantly I stepped out of his reverse hug. But I did something equally as pleasurable. I looped my arms around his neck and put my lips on his. “That’s because after the gift of salvation, the greatest gift God has given me is you.”

          “That’s sweet of you to say. I too can say the same thing.”

          “Hardly,” I said with a laugh that had no humor behind it. “How can you say that when you have been my protector for a decade? Minus three years, due to my stubborn ignorance.”

          “Because my greatest joy on this earth has been loving you.”

          I hugged him fiercely, then kissed him just in front of his right ear before I whispered into it. “I want to marry you as soon as possible. I no longer fear intimacy.”

          “I’m ready and willing,” he told me with a warm smile.

          I couldn’t resist putting my lips on his again. But as soon as our mouths separated, I picked up my phone. Thirty seconds later I spoke to Justin for the first time since we were children. He was delighted to hear from me. He was surprised, but very willing, when I told him I would like to meet with him in person. He also had no problem with Drew joining us.

          A week later we met Justin in Chicago. He lived in a high rise apartment, but we met at a pizza place. I was concerned that it wouldn’t be private enough, but the thought of going to his home was disconcerting. I don’t know why. Although we had been forced to do very inappropriate things together, he ultimately was my rescuer from that prison.

          I remembered Justin as a nice looking, athletic boy with dark hair and brown eyes. Now all these years later, he had the pasty out of shape look of someone who spent a lot of time at a computer or gaming. Also, despite being only in his early twenties, his hair was noticeably thinning.

          I was expecting to see scars all over his face and arms, and even braced for it. I had a vague memory of him in the chaos of police cars and ambulance. I recalled seeing him wrapped in white towels with lots of blood. But upon meeting I only noticed a thin line above his left eyebrow, and a thick two inch scar on his right forearm.

          After shaking hands and telling him it was nice to meet with him, I pointed to the scar. “Is that from…?”

          “Yeah,” he replied casually. Then he humbly added, “I wasn’t cut up as bad as you might think for jumping through glass without, you know, not being dressed.”

          It was indeed awkward at first. I had a hard time looking at him as I simply uttered, “Yeah.”

          A waitress asked if it was three of us. We told her it was and then followed her to a booth. Thankfully, it was fairly secluded for a public setting. Drew slid in next to me, with Justin across from us.

          “I was surprised when you wanted to meet me in person,” Justin said with a hesitant smile after we sat. “I was just hoping for a letter, phone call, or text. Just something to know you turned out alright.”

          “Yeah, well, about that,” I responded. “I felt bad about ignoring you, because I always have really appreciated what you did for me.”

          “I understand. So what motivated you to meet with me now?”

          “I recently became a Christian and I became convicted that I needed to thank you, in person if possible. I also wanted to share my new faith, because it was that that finally gave me enough peace and courage to reach out to you.”

          “I see,” he replied with neutral expression. “Well, good for you. I’m glad you’re in a good place.”

          “Are you a believer?” I asked.

          “I’m a believer in justice.”

          “So what do you do, Justin?” Drew asked.

          “I work in law enforcement,” he said with subtle pride. “On the computer side. I guess you could say I track down scum that do things similar to the things we escaped from.”

          “That’s wonderful!” I said. “So you’re making a career out of rescuing people like you did me.”

          “Yeah, I suppose you could say that,” he replied with a pleasant smile. “Only now I’m able to do it without jumping through picture windows.”

          “I’m sorry,” I said, and had to look away from him.

          “Nancy,” he said, and waited until I looked at him. “What I did saved my life too. But even if it was only yours, I do it over a thousand times.”

          “But not a thousand and one?” I said and instantly regretted the lame joke.

          But Justin laughed and said, “To be honest I would stop at a thousand.”

          After a brief pause, he asked, “How’s your mom?”

          I shrugged. “She’s okay. She moved back to California.”

          A pained look came over his face. It was so weird. I didn’t even know this guy, but I read something in his expression that made me inquire. “What’s wrong?”

          “There is a second reason I wanted to be in communication with you.”

          “Okay,” I replied hesitantly, not completely comfortable with his demeanor.

          “Nancy, do you know much about those three guys that were, um, abusing us, and others?”

          “Just that the man who impregnated my mother was killed in prison. Another committed suicide. And the third disappeared.”

          He winced. “What I know is complicated. By your response, I don’t think you know the truth about, as you put it, the man who impregnated your mother. What I know about him likely will bring you relief. But it will also raise questions about your mother that may be, well, upsetting.”

          “I want the truth,” I said calmly.

          “About your mom or the man you think impregnated your mother?”

          My heart raced but still outwardly calm I replied, “Both.”

          “The woman that brought you to Iowa is your aunt,” he told me, and I felt my jaw drop before he continued. “Her twin sister was addicted to heroin. The guy you thought was your father kept her strung out so he could use you in the vile garbage he made. Just so you know, your mother didn’t know what he was doing. When she found out, she mysteriously died from an overdose.”

          I was completely and totally stunned. Yet I managed to ask, “How do you know this?”

          “I overheard the guy you thought was your dad tell the guy who disappeared that your mom found out what they were doing, but not to worry because he took care of it. The next day I heard she died of an overdose. The rest I found out through my job with the FBI.”

          “Why did my mom, or as you say, my aunt keep this from me?”

          “I have a pretty good hunch therapists told her to pretend she was your mom for your benefit.”

          “But why?” I mumbled.

          “I don’t know if you recall,” Justin said with a pained look in his eyes. “But when you began to cry, you know, just before I went for a leap, you whimpered, ‘I want my mommy.’”

          I felt my lip quiver as I replied, “I remember.” Then God gave me the fortitude to ask, “Who’s my father if the creep isn’t?”

          “I don’t know. That might be a question for your aunt… I’m sorry, your mom.”

          “It is what it is,” I replied mechanically.

          I felt a hand squeeze mine and recognized the familiar touch immediately. I looked at Drew, my fiancée, the I man I was destined to spend the rest of my life with. His look of love and compassion let me know everything would be alright. But in the moment, I still had hard questions I wanted answers to.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 15

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 15

DREW ALDO

  SEEK FIRST THE KINGDOM OF GOD AND HIS RIGHTEOUSNESS, AND ALL THESE THINGS SHALL BE ADDED TO YOU. (Matthew 6:33)

            I felt my toes curl when Sevenia Sallie told my brother Jerry that his girlfriend Brenda was her cousin. Brenda was Jerry’s ex, or something like that. If a six week relationship is long enough to merit the term ‘ex.’

            Sevenia had made this declaration happily. For she had yet to discover that Jerry and Brenda were no longer an item. To make matters worse, I could tell that Jerry had been smitten with Sevenia. This surprised me. Jerry’s typical lady of the moment was usually a blonde with dark roots, a tastefully placed tattoo or four, and a few piercings beyond just the ears.

            Sevenia, like Nancy, was a plain Jane. However, for my tastes this usually spelled natural beauty. But I guess I don’t think like most guys. Take your average male. If one of Jerry’s typical dates was walking down one side of the street and Sevenia on the other, at least four out of five are watching Jerry’s typical date.

            When I first met Sevenia a couple years ago, I myself was smitten with her. But because she had a boyfriend at the time, we became friends on a brother and sister level. She sort of reminded me of Nancy due to their similar builds, as well smooth alabaster skin, short hair and simple dress. But that’s where their similarities ended.

            Sevenia’s auburn hair was short and spiked at the time, whereas Nancy’s hair was strawberry blonde and stylishly mussed. But I don’t believe the stylish aspect was intentional. Nancy just washed, tossed and went.

            Their personalities were opposite as well. Sevenia was bubbly and outgoing. Nancy was an introvert who was often moody and sullen. While I was in between. I never got too high and never got too low. I suppose I still am.

            Although the revelation that Jerry and Sevenia’s cousin had just broken up was awkward at first, she seemed to shrug it off. Over the next three weeks, the thirteen prophecy presentations went off without a hitch. Nancy was baptized on the last night, and Jerry recommitted to his childhood faith.

            The next day I wasn’t surprised to get a text from Sevenia, but I was a little surprised at the time, 12:51 am. She requested that I call her. When I did she requested to meet me alone. We decided on lunch at the Bluebird café. At 12:48 pm Sevenia came walking into the cafe wearing a light blue summer dress with white sneakers.

            After quick greetings, I had to ask, “So why this urgent clandestine meeting?”

            She smiled but frowned. “Is that what you think this is?”

            “You texted me at 12:51 in the morning.”

            She crinkled her cute little nose, and her large emerald eyes looked a little mischievous. “Sorry about that, I was a little discombobulated.”

            “Over what?”

            “Your brother.”

            “My brother?”

            “Yeah, we were at the church talking for several hours last night. I guess you could say we really have hit it off, and then he asked me to dinner tonight. I told him yes, but I instantly regretted it. So when we parted ways, without thinking, I just rattled off that text to you. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

            “No, I didn’t see it till the morning. Well wait, I guess it was morning when you sent it. So you and Jerry talked until one?”

            “No, it wasn’t one yet.”

            “Oh, sorry,” I teased. “So you and Jerry talked until nine minutes to one.”

            “No, more like a quarter to one.”

            “My bad,” I replied, and then we looked at each other for a long moment. “So why do you regret it? It sounds like it’s just a friendly dinner.”

            “Well,” she winced. “I find Jerry rather appealing.”

            “And that’s a bad thing?”

            “Yes, for a couple reasons.”

            “I’m listening,” I said, reminding myself of Frasier Crane.

            “I sort of swore off the possibility of romance to focus on serving God,” she said. She sighed and looked out the window. A waitress had brought us waters and menus, and she twisted the wrapper from a straw in her fingers. “I don’t mean a promise, just kind of an intention.”

            “You said a couple reasons?”

            “Well, maybe this is unfair, even judgmental. I may have just gotten to know your brother, but I knew of him.”

            “Let me guess, you think he was a womanizer.”

            “Drew, I don’t think there’s any guessing about it.”

            “Oh boy,” I said and pinched the bridge of my nose. Then I looked at her solemnly. “He would probably kill me if he knew what I’m about to tell you, so please keep it to yourself.”

            “I’m listening.”

            So I shared with Sevenia what Jerry had shared with me a couple days before Sevenia’s prophecy seminar got underway. About how due to his religious upbringing he never actually had sex with any of the girls he dated. How although he only halfheartedly followed the fundamental beliefs of our church, he believes one should be committed before intimate relations. Now that he has repented, and turned from his backslidden ways, I’m sure he believes a couple should even be married.

            I was concerned when Sevenia stared at me with a blank expression. Then she quietly said, “I think I’m in love.”

            I reached across the table and took hold of her hand. “I’m flattered, Sevenia, but I’m with Nancy.”

            She laughed. “I meant Jerry, not you… I mean I love you as a dear friend, but…”

            “I know. I love you too as a dear friend.”

            “Just so you know,” Sevenia said, looking a little shy and nervous. This was strange to see because she is such a confident, dynamic speaker. “When you and I first met, I found you very desirable. But I had a boyfriend at the time, and you were heartbroken over Nancy putting the kibosh on your friendship. As a matter of fact, one of the things I found appealing about Jerry was his similarities to you.”

            “But with muscles on the order of Brock Storm,” I said with a grin. When Sevenia and I first became friends, she confessed guilt that she had had a bit of a crush on Brock, who is built like an NFL linebacker and married to Destiny Knight-Storm. He’s also her dad’s cousin.

            “I suppose,” she grinned back, but then grew serious. “I think the main thing is he is recommitting to God. Not being unequally yoked is very important to me.”

            Now I squirmed and looked a little nervous. In the course of our friendship, she had given me honest council that Nancy being out of my life was for the best if she refused to follow God. That had been the reason she had broken up with her own boyfriend. She had hoped he would convert, but he ultimately chose not to.

            “It’s important to me as well,” I declared. “It was troubling to be so attracted to someone who didn’t share my spiritual values.”

            “It seems there are no worries now,” she said happily.

            “Well, our spiritual beliefs are now in harmony. But I’m not certain she will ever want to be in a relationship. She has always been afraid of intimacy.”

            “Well, I’ve got some good and bad news for you,” Sevenia reported with a coy smile.

            I frowned. “Regarding Nancy?”

            “Yes. There’s actually a dual reason for our, what did you call it? Our clandestine meeting?”

            “If it wasn’t, it is now. So what is it you have to say about Nancy?”

          “When she discovered that you and I had become pretty good friends over the last couple years, she confided a couple things to me last night before you guys left.”

          “And something was good, and something was bad?”

          Sevenia nodded.

          “Tell me the bad first.”

          She frowned. “I kind of need to tell you the good first, because the bad coincides with it.”

          “Okay, spit it out.”

          “She was lamenting that you haven’t discussed marriage with her.”

          “I was just giving her time to get adjusted spiritually.”

          “Well, just so you know, she’s had enough time.”

          “So what’s the bad? Is she worried she’ll be afraid of intimacy?”

          “Because of the abuse she endured as a child, she’s been told by doctors she likely could not have children.”

          “That’s not important to me. When and if the time comes, we can adopt.”

          Sevenia smiled sweetly at me, took my hand, and said, “Go to her.”

          Two hours after having lunch with Sevenia, Nancy and I found ourselves at Cotton Creek. The rippling stream was about a football field’s length behind our church. I’d like to tell you I did something like have a skywriter spell out a proposal. But after she sat on a bench, I simply went to one knee and asked her to marry me.

          Instead of saying yes, she said, “Did you talk to Sevenia?”

          “I did.”

          “Did she tell you about me being barren?”

          “Yes, and it doesn’t matter. All that matters is I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

          She started to cry as she said, “I’m sorry I asked her to do it for me. I just couldn’t face you with it. Especially so soon after you found out what happened to me as a kid.”

          “Hey, it’s alright,” I soothed, caressing her cheek with my thumb. “But please answer my question.”

          “What question?” she asked. Then she gasped and went to her knees in front of me. Then before kissing me passionately she said, “Yes, oh yes!”

          After a couple minutes of hugging and kissing, she became dead serious. “By the way, the boy that rescued me from my situation all those years ago wants to meet with me.”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 13

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 13

NANCY

OH, THE DEPTH OF THE RICHES BOTH OF THE WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE OF GOD! HOW UNSEARCHABLE ARE HIS JUDGEMENTS AND HIS WAYS PAST FINDING OUT! (Romans 11:33)

            The Lord works in mysterious ways. I had a hard time believing Drew when he told me that God saw me as a virgin. I had a hard time believing God accepted me, as the song declares, ‘Just As I Am.’ Then just when I began to fully believe, I was taken to the lowest depths of doubt and despair.

            First, the most intimidating woman I had ever known had caught me trotting virtually naked through her house. Then Drew’s mother kicked me out of her house. The third strike came when she barged into the room I had briefly stayed in. I was already fighting off a panic attack as I was dressing and gathering up my things. For a second time in not even twenty minutes, I locked eyes with the most intimidating woman I have ever known, while in a state of undress.

            I was wearing only panties when I saw Dr. Aldo’s eyes go to my rib cage, where two dozen thin scars resided. I had resorted to cutting myself in my darkest hours of loneliness and despair. I had never felt such deep shame in my life as the most intimidating woman I had ever known discovered this secret. I pressed my legs together so she wouldn’t see a dozen more on the insides of my thighs.

            I was puzzled when Drew’s mom tried to make a joke about seeing me in a state of undress again. Was she being sarcastic? Even though I perceived she was actually trying to be friendly, my breathing came hard and fast as I failed to hold off the surging panic attack.

            Then right on the brink of an emotional breakdown, it was as if a spiritual switch was flipped. The light of God’s love chased away the demons, and it came through the most intimidating woman I have ever known. She knelt in front of me clutching one of my hands in two of hers. With head bowed she petitioned, “Nancy, would you please forgive me?”

            Although her humble, contrite actions caused my anxiety to change directions, I was dumbfounded and confused as I meekly replied, “For what?”

            “For my whole attitude toward you all a long.”

            I knelt in front of her, and she lifted her bowed head, looking at me with tear rimmed eyes. As we faced each other on our knees, I tried to make sense of what was happening. Why was the most intimidating woman I had ever known being nice to me? Surely Drew had told her that I was dirty and defiled. To top it off, I saw her eyes go to the scars on my rib cage. They were all neatly arranged like a planted row of trees. It was an obvious case of self-abuse rather than an accident. I simply replied, “I don’t understand.”

            “I think you do,” she responded quickly. But her brisk reply was not haughty. She couldn’t hide the fact that she had never liked me. I don’t think she even tried to hide the fact that she didn’t like me. So why now? That’s what I didn’t understand.

            “Did Drew tell you about, you know, what happened before I came to Iowa?”

            Her lips pursed tightly, and her eyes welled with tears as she nodded. But I just gazed at her flatly, numbly. “So you know how dirty and defiled I am.”

            “No, not at all. I see how you were terribly wronged.”

            “You know I’m in love with Drew,” I said mechanically, as if my emotions were all tied up.

            “Yes, I’ve always known that,” she said with what seemed like a warm smile. Did she mean she now didn’t seem to mind? After she now knew how scarred I was, both physically and mentally? I frowned as my tied up emotions began to loosen ever so slightly. I had never, ever had a warm smile aimed at me by the most intimidating woman I had ever known.

            “But I never thought you were right for him,” she admitted. “That was one of the reasons I’ve always treated you kind of coolly.”

            “Try frigid,” I blurted and instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry! Dr Aldo, I didn’t mean to say that. I’m just so discombobulated. Between what happened last night, and now this morning.”

            She laughed, shook her head, and touched my cheek. “No, you’re right, Honey, I was indeed frigid. But I hope to call that a thing of the past going forward.”

            It occurred to me that I was still naked except for my panties. I gasped and covered my breasts with both hands. Rising hastily I said, “I need to get dressed.”

            “I’m sorry for barging in on you, Nancy. I’ll leave, but please tell me you forgive me.”

            “Oh, yes, of course I do,” I replied as I threw on jeans and a t-shirt. “But please don’t go. I want to ask you something.”

            She stopped her retreat and looked at me with arched eyebrows. “Sure, ask me anything.”

            I chewed my lower lip for a few seconds. “Drew told me that in God’s eyes, I’m a virgin. What’s your opinion?”

            “I agree with my son one hundred percent.”

            “How can that be?” I puzzled as I sat on the bed.

            Dr. Aldo sat next to me. “Because what happened to you wasn’t your choice.”

            “But I did what the man who impregnated my mother told me to do.”

            The most intimidating woman I had ever known looked lovingly at me as she put a gentle hand on my knee. “Honey, you were only a child. There’s a reason there are laws. There’s a reason a person isn’t considered an adult until a certain age. And my Dear, you were a long, long way from that certain age.”

            We were silent for a long moment as I gathered my thoughts. Then the most intimidating woman I had ever known spoke with the meekest voice I had ever heard from her. “Sweety, can I ask you something?”

            Honey, Dear, and now Sweety from the most intimidating woman I had ever known. I frowned and said, “Sure.”

            “Do you still cut yourself?”

            I felt my face flush as I shook my head. “No.”

            “Good,” was all she said as she patted my knee.

            Even though she didn’t inquire further, I wanted her to know something. “The only times I ever cut, was when Drew wasn’t a part of my life.”

            “So why did you push away from your friendship with him early on in high school?”

            I noticed she said friendship, so I began to test the waters a little bit. “Because I was deeply in love with him, and I knew I didn’t deserve him. I also was scared. What I went through as child made me fearful of physical intimacy. I didn’t want to be unfair to him.”

            She looked at me with a pained expression. I wondered whether it was because I declared to be in love with her precious son, or whether out of concern for how damaged and broken I had been. Her next words surprised me. “Drew’s deeply in love with you as well.”

            I looked at her with a stunned expression, and the most intimidating woman I had ever known giggled. I didn’t know that Dr. Penelope Aldo was even capable of giggling. “Does my acknowledgement surprise you?”

            “Yes, it does!”

            “Listen, I’m a realist. Until today, I never really liked you, but I’ve always known you held Drew’s affections.”

            “I don’t understand your sudden change about me. Is it pity?”

            “It’s self-realization.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean that after talking with Drew, it hit me like a spiritual slap in the face that I was being judgmental. I always thought you were snotty and opinionated. Actually not unlike my own inclinations. But after Drew’s explanation, what I perceived as arrogance in you turned out to be brokenness.”

            “I see.”

            “Please don’t take what I’m gonna tell you next the wrong way.”

            “Okay,” I replied cautiously.

            “As a vet, I’ve tended to hundreds of abused animals. So as soon as I found out how horribly abused you had been, it didn’t take long for shame and then repentance to take effect.”

            “I’m glad you care for us damaged animals,” I replied with a lighthearted smile.

            “You’re a precious child of God. I do apologize for behaving self-righteously and judgmentally all these years.”

            “Regardless of what made me who I am, or was, or whatever, I was frequently a snot. Forgive me for giving you a reason to not like me with my frequent bad attitude.”

            “So I guess we forgive each other?”

            “Yes, lets.”

            “Can I ask you one more question, and once again I mean no offense?”

            “Let me guess, you’re wondering if my interest to get baptized is genuine, or a ploy to please Drew.”

            “You know what else is sudden? You and me being on the same page. Yes, that is what I’m wondering.”

            “I believe it is genuine, but it is all so new to me. I guess I had been ignoring the Holy Spirit. But then last night, witnessing Drew’s faith with a gun pointed at his head… I mean, I have always wanted that peace and faith Drew has. But then witnessing Drew’s faith and calm under such duress, I went from wanting it to needing it. Talking with him this morning, he convinced me I could have it.”

            “I’m glad. You know, the angels in heaven rejoice over one sinner that repents.”

            “They do?”

            “Yes, look up Luke 15:7 and 10.”

            “I will,” I replied, and we smiled awkwardly at each other, but in good way. “Oh my! Where does it all go from here?”

            “that remains to be seen, Honey,” she said, patting my knee and standing. “But I think it will be good. But promise me one thing. Don’t ever run out of Drew’s life again, even if you decide to just be friends.”

            “I won’t,” I replied as I also stood. “I promise.”

            Then the most intimidating woman I had ever known hugged me warmly and kissed my cheek. I discovered that day how amazing the working of the Holy Spirit is. For I once I was lost, but now I was found!