Tag: writing

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 6

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 6

LIEUTENANT LOUIS LEWIS

HE REVEALS DEEP AND SECRET THINGS; HE KNOWS WHAT IS IN THE DARKNESS, AND LIGHT DWELLS WITH HIM (Daniel 2:22)

            “Is that shrug a yes or no?” I had asked Inga Likas, also known as Inga Cognito. The question was whether or not she had supernatural powers. Just to be clear, I did not believe that she had supernatural powers. But I was looking for was whether she thought she did.

            “Maybe,” she replied with another shrug.

            “How do you maybe have supernatural powers? Either you do or you don’t. Let me rephrase that. Either you think that you do, or you don’t. Yes or no?”

            “Yes, we all can have supernatural powers. And I mean you as well, Lieutenant.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “I mean if you have faith as a mustard seed, you can move mountains,” she declared. (Matthew 17:20) “Do you not believe that?”

            “I’m not here to discuss my faith. I’m…”

            “Or lack thereof,” Inga interrupted.

            “Now listen here,” I began to defend. Then I paused, regained my composure, and calmly said, “We need to stay on the task at hand. And that task is for me to investigate the death of your sister.”

            “You’re the one that asked if I had supernatural powers.”

            I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Why did my detectives have to be overworked, compelling the Captain to assign me personally to this homicide case? He had a twofold reason for doing so. For one thing, he put a lesser value on the murder of a seemingly homeless person. For another thing, I could tell he was not pleased when I requested to withdraw from overseeing the ever increasing Sunday laws.

            “Ms. Likas, tell me about this former fiancée. Why do you think he was behind it and not someone, say, from the homeless community?”

            “Because of what you said was carved into her flesh,” she replied. Then she paused as she choked on a sob. “Nobody here knows I sometimes went by Inga Cognito other than members of your police department, and my friends, Zella and Seven Sallie. Do you think one of your officers may have done it?”

            “Absolutely not!”

            “Well, I say the Sallie’s absolutely did not do it either.”

            “Okay, tell me about this former fiancée.”

            “Before I do, let me make this statement. In my thinking, I wasn’t his fiancée. I was being forced into a marriage that wasn’t legitimate, since he had multiple wives and I was only sixteen years old.”

            “Can you tell me who he is and where he is?”

            “His name is Bryson Bronx, and the last I knew he lived on a compound in the California desert. He’s very wealthy, I’m sure he’s a billionaire. He’s also the leader of a wacko alien cult. There were more than two hundred of us living on the compound. My sister, Paloma, who you found… Who…”

            Inga put a fist over her mouth and began to cry. My cousin Zella put an arm around her. I gave her space to grieve.

            “So tell me, Inga,” I began gently after she calmed. “If this Bryson Bronx is a very wealthy man way out in California, how do you think he tracked you here to a homeless camp in Iowa?”

            “Oh, I don’t believe he did it himself. But I do believe it was one of his hench men, bodyguards, thugs, whatever you want to call them.”

            “What can you tell me about these hench men?”

            “He had seven of them. He was obsessed with seven.”

            “I assume you mean the number and not this gentleman sitting at the table with us?”

            A smirk played at Inga’s lips. “Did you mean Seven Sallie?”

            “I did.”

            “Okay. The gentleman part confused me.”

            “Hey, that’s hurtful even if it might be true,” Seven replied with self-deprecation.

            Inga burst out with a laugh. Then it instantly morphed into sobs. She croaked, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be joking at a time like this. The truth is, Seven’s the most wonderful man I have ever met. If it hadn’t been for him and Zella taking me in, I most likely would have been killed with my sister.”

            I took in the scene for a moment. My cousin Zella with her arm protectively around Inga on one side, and Seven giving her hand an affectionate squeeze on the other. I had judged Seven and his zeal over the Sabbath vs. Sunday issue as Pharisaical. I felt he was knit picking, and disrupting community unity by rebelling against the Sunday laws. But their taking in this homeless girl was living out Christianity at its core.

            I had seen Inga Likas, also known as Inga Cognito, two or three weeks earlier at the station. Let me tell you, she was rough, dirty, and weathered. But now after only a couple of weeks with the Sallie’s she looked clean and healthy. This despite red rimmed eyes caused by grief.

            Getting back on task, I inquired, “Please tell me what you meant by Bryson and the number seven.”

            “He felt seven was the Biblical number of perfection,” Inga replied with a shrug.

            “I can’t argue with that,” I added.

            “Really?” Seven asked with an arched eyebrow.

            I didn’t know if he was inferring about the seventh day Sabbath or himself. But I knew I had walked into it, so I walked right back out of it by moving forward. “You were to be his seventh wife. Is there anything else regarding Bryson and seven?”

            She shrugged. “He had his seven hench men, seven house keepers and butlers, seven cars, stuff like that. But here’s the thing about his seven wives. When I was to become his seventh wife, it was more like his, I don’t know, eleventh or twelfth at least.”

            “What does that mean?”

            “It means when he finds an interesting prospect for another wife, his least favorite of the seven mysteriously disappears,” she explained, using air quotes while saying ‘disappears.’

            “So you’re saying he has them killed?”

            “All I know is they disappeared. Having them killed would be my guess. Or maybe he really is in communication with aliens.”

            “So let me get this straight. He’s into Biblical things, but has people murdered? His so called wives no less?”

            “I didn’t say he was a Christian, but he is interested in aspects of the Bible. But more  like secret Bible codes rather than, say, the Gospels.”

            “I see. So did you witness any of these disappearances?”

            “From the standpoint of hearsay. You know, like, oh Brenda’s gone. Then a month or two later, there was a new wife for Bryson from among our ranks. Then around a year later, oh Jenny’s gone. Then a month or two after, there’s was a new wife for Bryson. And Jenny was the vacancy that was supposed to pave the way for me.”

            “How long did you live on this compound?”

            “I was twelve when we moved there, so about four years. My mom got intrigued by the cult, divorced my dad and married one of Bryson’s seven hench men. Most of the followers on the compound lived in dorm type quarters. But because my stepdad had rank, we lived in a pretty decent apartment.”

            “Is your mom still there?”

            “I’m not sure. When Paloma and I ran away, Bryson was not happy at all. I wouldn’t be surprised if she disappeared,” she said, again using air quotes for ‘disappeared.’

            “Have you been in contact with your mother since you left the compound?”

            “Nope.”

            “So you were sixteen when you left the compound?”

            “I was days away from turning sixteen and Pal was eighteen.”

            “What about your father?”

            “I haven’t seen him since I was twelve.”

            “He didn’t have joint custody or anything?”

            “He couldn’t. He had a couple domestic violence charges against him. Besides, he always doubted whether he was actually our father. And with good reason. One of his domestic violence charges came after he caught our mom in bed with a friend of his.”

            “Is he a possibility in the death of your sister?”

            “I don’t know, I suppose. But it’s been so long since I’d seen him, it didn’t really occur to me. It was Bryson’s men who tried to hunt us down after we left. Like I said my dad wanted nothing to do with Paloma and me. The only one of us three he liked was Brent.”

            “Who’s Brent?”

            “Our brother. He’s two years older than Paloma, and four years older than me.”

            “Do you know his whereabouts?”

            “He joined the Marines as soon as he turned eighteen. I haven’t seen him since and only talked to him twice.”

            “Were you and your brother ever close?”

            She shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, for growing up in a dysfunctional environment, we got along quite well. My dad liked me the least. Brent protected me from our dad’s wrath. You see, the friend he caught in bed with my mother had unusually light blue eyes like me.”

            Inga’s eyes were indeed striking. So arctic blue, they sometimes seemed to glow.

            “My eyes are the reason Bryson chose me to be his wife,” she continued. “Even though Paloma is prettier than me. He felt like because of my eyes I was some type of gateway to other worlds. He thought I could make, how do I put this? Contact.”

            “You mean contacting aliens.”

            “Yeah, something like that.”

            “How old is Bryson?”

            “By now he would be in his mid-fifties.”

            Paloma’s face was beaten beyond recognition. When Inga said her sister was prettier, I thought it would be good to see how much the siblings resembled each other. “Do you have any pictures of Paloma?”

            Inga pulled out her phone and pulled up some pictures of Paloma. The two women definitely looked like siblings. Inga was also being humble in declaring her sister prettier. Although Paloma had a more curvy, voluptuous body, Inga’s arctic blue eyes made her face more striking, compared to Paloma’s darker blue-gray eyes. Would the killer have noticed the difference?

            As I held Inga’s phone in my left hand, I pulled my own ringing phone out of my pocket with my right. It was my desk sergeant.

            “Hey Jeff, what’s up?”

            “Hey Lou. There’s a man here who says his name is Brent Likas. Says he’s the brother of the murdered woman from the homeless camp.”

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 4

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 4

SEVEN SALLIE

WHEREAS YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN TOMORROW. FOR WHAT IS YOUR LIFE? IT IS EVEN A VAPOR THAT APPEARS FOR A LITTLE TIME AND THEN VANISHES AWAY (James 4:14)

            A knock at my front door revealed Lieutenant Louis Lewis standing on my stoop. It had been a couple weeks since he and FBI Agent Nora Medora had stopped by to threaten me. Oh, they called it a warning, but I clearly saw restrained hostility in their demeanors.

            “Good afternoon, Lieutenant,” I greeted, I hoped cheerfully. I could feel my blood pressure spike a bit. There is no fear in love, I reminded myself (1 John 4:18). Followed by love your enemies (Matthew 5:44).

            “Afternoon,” he responded, eyeing me cooly.

            No fear in love, love your enemies, my mind repeated. “I’d like to say to what do I owe the pleasure, but I can’t help wondering what I said on podcast that made you show up. I’ve tried to be, shall I say, cautious, since you and Nora were kind enough to warn me.”

            What I didn’t acknowledge to the police officer was that I was choosing my battles wisely. And hopefully it was not as a wise guy, which was my sinful tendency. I needed to seek the Holy Spirit’s guidance with timing in what to say and do. I needed to follow the example of Jesus when He said things like, ‘Tell no one,’ and ‘My time is not yet.’

            “This has nothing to do with your podcast, Sallie,” Triple Lou said. “I need to ask you a few questions about Inga Likas. Also known as Inga Cognito.”

            “Did she get into some trouble?”

            “Yeah, I’d say she did.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. Then his tired looking dark brown eyes met mine. “I’m afraid she’s been murdered.”

            “What!”

            “I’m sorry. There was no easy way to break it to you.”

            “That can’t be!”

            “I’m afraid it is. Her body was found down by the river in a patch of woods off of first street. Now I know she had been staying with you, so there are a couple things I need to know.”

            “You don’t understand, she…”

            “Once again,” he interrupted. “I’m sorry to break it to you like this, but…”

            “Lieutenant,” I interrupted. “You…”

            “Maybe we should sit,” he interrupted. “How about at the kitchen table?”

            “Yeah, that would be fine,” I said and then sighed. “Can I get you something to drink? Relaxed Mind tea? Sparkling water?”

            “No thanks. Now, Mr. Sallie, when was the last time you saw her?”

            “Please, call me Seven.”

            “Now, Mr. Sallie, when was the last time you saw her?”

            “About fifteen minutes ago.”

            “Fifteen minutes ago? That’s not possible.”

            Inga walked up to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. “Do you have any leads on who killed me?”

            Triple Lou stared at Inga in astonishment. It was as if he had lived two thousand years ago and witnessed Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead.

            “It.. It’s you,” Lieutenant Louis Lewis stammered.

            “It’s me,” Inga said with a shrug. She was amazingly calm for having just found out that she had been murdered. Yet I noticed her fingers were trembling slightly. Then her lower lip developed a bit of a quiver as she asked, “So what makes you think I’ve been murdered?”

            “I swear, I thought for sure it was you,” Triple Lou said mildly, still looking at Inga in disbelief. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

            Now I noticed Inga’s eyes were becoming watery, so I spoke up. “Lieutenant, can you tell us why you thought Inga had been murdered?”

            “I saw her for myself,” he replied, as he turned his gaze onto me.

            “What did you see?” I asked.

            He looked back to Inga. “I don’t know if you want to hear this.”

            “Give it to me straight, Triple Lou,” Inga said flatly.

            Now I am obnoxious by nature. But by the grace of God, I no longer purposely try to get a rise out of people since giving my life to Christ. The old me would have smiled at Inga’s disrespectful tone. But the new creature inside my flesh cringed at the use of the flippant name she used for the gruff police officer. Yet it seemed to roll off his shoulders as if she had called him sir, officer, or lieutenant.

            “Well, for one thing, it looked like your hair,” he told us. “But I see you got it cut.”

            Inga’s dread locks were gone, and her dark brown hair was cut into a pixie style.

            Being rather dense I said, “Didn’t you recognize the face?”

            “It was beaten beyond recognition.”

            “What else?” Inga asked stoically.

            “Carved in her flesh, on her torse to be exact, were the words, ‘Inga Cognito is a fake.’ Also on her person was a Nevada ID that called her Inga Marie Likas… So I hope you can see why I was confident that the… Why I thought it was you.”

            “Did she have any tattoos?” Inga asked hesitantly.

            “Why yes, she did. On the back side of her wrist. A banner that said love conquers all, surrounded by flowers and…”

            “1 Corinthians 13:4-8 under the flowers,” Inga interrupted.

            “Yes,” Triple Lou said solemnly and then paused. “Who is she, Inga?”

            But instead of replying, Inga’s chin began to quiver, and tears seemed to pop out of her eye socks. She coughed out a sob, covered her mouth with her hand and ran to the bedroom.

            “Must be a relative of hers,” the Lieutenant said quietly.

            I shook off the shock I felt and said, “I better go comfort her… Or something.”

            I got up slowly from the table. Although my heart broke for Inga, I selfishly longed for my wife. I mumbled, “Zella, you should have been home a half hour ago, where are you?”

            Low and behold the front door popped open and my beautiful wife stepped into our home. I stepped quickly to her, and we embraced. Having noticed the Lieutenant’s car in the driveway, she whispered into my ear, “Are you in trouble again?”

            I explained the reason for Triple Lou’s presence. My wife is mentally tough because she is spiritually grounded in the love of Christ. She pushed away from me and briskly walked toward Inga. I slowly walked back to the table, sat, and then sighed as I eased into a chair.

            Triple Lou and I sat in silence for a couple minutes. Then I said, “Maybe you could come back later, or we could come down to the station later.”

            “I really need to talk to her as soon as possible. If we don’t catch the perpetrator within the first forty eight hours, the odds of ever finding him drop dramatically.”

            “So you think it’s a him?”

            “In most cases of a brutal murder it’s a him,” he told me sternly. “But to be fair how about I change it to ‘them.’”

            “Them? So you think it’s more than one person?”

            “Sallie, why do you always have to be so difficult?”

            “I don’t mean to be, Sir. I just like to explore every detail of a subject.”

            “Ya know, even when you’re being respectful, I somehow feel that you’re mocking.”

            “I’m sorry you feel that way. On the other hand, we live in a dog eat dog world. Your paranoia could be looked at as just being cautious.”

            “I’m not paranoid,” he said testily. Then he forced a smile and said with eerie calmness, “I’m not paranoid.”

            He glanced at the door that concealed Inga and my wife. Then his eyes shifted to me. Then he looked back at the door. Then he looked back at me. Then he muttered to himself, “Oh nuts.”

            “So Lieutenant, do you have time to investigate a murder while at the same time enforcing Sunday laws?”

            His eyes narrowed with distaste, and I put up my hands in a surrender gesture. “I’m sorry how that came across. When I’m under stress, it gets hard to control my natural bent for flippancy.”

            “Be careful Sallie, you do realize you’re a suspect?”

            “What! Surly you don’t think I killed… Whoever it is that was killed?”

            He sighed. “At this point everybody is a suspect. But no, I don’t think you did it.”

            “Well, good.”

            “Yet,” he added cooly.

            After a minute of awkward silence, Triple Lou said without looking at me, “I am off of overseeing Sunday ordinances though.”

            “Yeah? How come?”

            “Conflict of interest.”

            “May I ask what the conflict of interest is?”

            “You may,” he replied but then remained silent.

            “Well?”

            “I just said you could ask, I didn’t say I would answer.”

            Despite the violent death of somebody seemingly related to Inga somehow, I laughed. “It sure can be hard to like somebody that’s flippant.”

            “Tell me about it,” he said.

            “Well, I wanted to understand your conflict of interest, and I found it annoying when you responded with flippancy instead.”

            He still eyed me with narrow eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “’Tell me about it’ was a figure of speech, not a request. You’re something else, Sallie.”

            “That’s what my wife always tells me.”

            “I bet she does,” he said, sighed and rose from the table. He began to slowly do laps around the kitchen table. “I’ve been studying out this Sabbath issue with my Bible and concordance. Now I was believer that we kept Sunday in honor of the resurrection. But then I discovered in the book of Acts, in particular chapters thirteen and seventeen, that they kept the Sabbath. Jesus had been long risen from the dead by then.

            “Then I looked up Constantine and how he mandated on March 7, AD 321, dies solis meaning ‘The Day of the Sun’ in latin, making Sunday the official day of rest.”

            “Lieutenant, that’s awesome!”

            “Yeah, well, truth is truth. I also got to thinking about the first scripture I read on the Sabbath. Genesis 2:3 says God sanctified it. I couldn’t find anywhere in scripture where God sanctified or made holy, the first day of the week.”

            “That’s because He didn’t.”

            “Right,” he replied as if he didn’t want to admit it. But then he acknowledged, “So, I told the Captain I didn’t want to oversee the Sunday laws anymore.”

            “How’d that go over?”

            “Okay, but now he regards me with suspicion.”

            “Ya mean he didn’t before?”

            “Sallie, do you always have to…” He grinned, shook his head and said, “No, he didn’t.”

            The bedroom door opened, and Inga and Zella came out walking hand in hand. Inga’s arctic blue eyes were red rimmed as she said in a childlike voice, “I’m ready to talk, Lieutenant. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I want you to find who did this.”

            “Okay,” Triple Lou said with surprising gentleness. “Let’s start with this. Do you know who she is?”

            “Her name is Paloma, she’s my sister.”

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 19

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 19

NANCY

  THE ANGEL OF THE LORD ENCAMPS ALL AROUND THOSE WHO FEAR HIM, AND DELIVERS THEM (Psalm 34:7)

             “Dad?” Drew had petitioned. My fiancée had his phone on speaker and had just told his father that his former bandmate, Donald Reed, was my biological father.

            Donald Reed was more known by his stage name Izzy Iscariot. He had been a hardcore satanist, whereas Arlo, Drew’s dad, had been, shall we say, a nominal occultist. Then Arlo left the band he shared with Izzy when he became a devout Christian. Not long after, Izzy had committed suicide in a very violent manner.

            Apparently the news rendered Mr. Aldo speechless as Drew tried a second time. “Dad?”

            “Oh, yeah, son, I… I’m sorry,” he finally stammered. “This just takes me by complete surprise.”

            “Yeah, I can imagine,” Drew replied. “Maybe I should have waited to tell you in person.”

            “No, no, that’s fine… But are you sure? How did you find this out?”

            Drew told him about how my mom was actually my biological aunt. He explained the connection between my mom’s family, their occult ties and Izzy.

            There was a long enough silence that it prompted Drew to say “Dad?” again.

            “Yeah, Son… Maybe you should reconsider marrying Nancy.”

            I felt my face flush as Drew looked at me with a stunned expression. I loved Arlo Aldo, and I thought he loved or at least liked me. So his suggestion to his son hurt and I felt tears sting the back of my eyes. But I clenched my jaw and pushed them back.

            “Dad, I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. She’s a child of God and her own person, no matter parentage.”

            Yet again Drew was a balm to my tortured soul. I loved him more than anyone in the whole world and desperately wanted to spend the rest of my life with him as well. So his father’s words were very much a threat to my insecure psyche.

            “I understand that, but you see… What you just told about her parentage. It’s, I don’t know, all wrong.”

            “Dad, I’ve been on speaker, so Nancy is hearing all of this.”

            Silence again. But before Drew could say Dad, I meekly cut in. “Hi, Arlo.”

            “Nancy, hi. Listen, I didn’t mean anything personal. It’s just that there are things you don’t understand.”

            “You mean about me originating from demons?” I replied cooly.

            “No, no, no!” he responded. “All have sinned and come short of the glory of God.”

            “Then why do parents I never even knew make me unworthy of your son?”

            “It’s not that. It’s complicated. You see, before Izzy offed himself, he wrote several people letters, me included. Actually they were notes cuz Izzy was too deranged for a proper letter. Anyhow, he threatened to, um, have me haunted me in a particular manner.”

            “Oh come on, Dad, you can’t be serious! You know what the Bible teaches about the state of the dead.”

            “Yeah, yeah, of course, the dead don’t know anything (Ecclesiastes 9:5). Notice I said have me haunted. In other words curse me with the demonic.”

            “Dad, you also know God is bigger and stronger than the devil.”

            “Yes of course, but I can’t escape the ramifications of what I was involved with. You don’t come away from years of dabbling in the occult unscathed. Jesus Himself referred to Satan as the ruler of this world.” (John 12:31)

            “Yeah and He also said, ‘If I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all peoples to Myself.’ (verse 32) Of which you are a part.”

            “Jesus also said we would have tribulation.”

            “Yes, but what did He say before and after?” I began to clarify. “Before what you quoted, He said, ‘In Me you may have peace.’ After, He said, ‘Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.’” (John 16:33)

            “You’re missing the point. Even though we are Christians, we shouldn’t test fate. The devil goes about as a roaring lion seeking who he can devour. (1 Peter 5:9) Look, I don’t do certain things regarding, say, lust or drugs, so I won’t be tempted. I also should heed the warning of a curse Izzy promised to put on me and my family.”

            “A curse? You’ve got to be kidding! What exactly did this lunatic write that has you so bent out of shape, so unreasonable?”

            “I don’t know verbatim; I haven’t looked at it in years.”

            “You mean you still have it? You saved a, um, suicide note?”

            “I did.”

            “Why? What for?”

            “For a reminder of what God rescued me from. Also for a possible time like this.”

            “I don’t understand, Dad. What could he have possibly threatened you with that has you freaked out about me marrying Nancy?”

            “You just told me she’s his daughter.”

            “Biologically. But he apparently didn’t even know he was gonna be a parent. He died a half year before Nancy was even born. Shoot, the woman that birthed her didn’t even raise her. So how dare you accuse her of bringing a curse to our family.”

            “It won’t bring a curse if you don’t marry her. I’m sorry, Nancy. I love you like you have been part of the family. But some things just aren’t meant to be, like if you would have found out you were siblings separated at birth. You certainly wouldn’t marry then.”

            “I don’t mean any disrespect, my father,” Drew told him calmly. “But you are being superstitious and ridiculous.”

            “Am I? Do we or do we not wrestle against principalities, powers and the rulers of darkness, spiritual hosts of wickedness in high places?”

            “Once again you are leaving off the before and after. By that I mean the putting on of the whole armor of God. (Ephesians chapter 6) So tell me what Izzy said that has you this rattled.”

            Arlo sighed heavily from more that fifteen hundred miles away. “Izzy wrote a half dozen notes to people he thought betrayed him. Most of his message to me was crazy rambling. But he ended it by telling me that I sold my soul as much as he did, and you don’t get to just leave the band, just like the mafia. He said I was breaking up his family, so he was gonna infiltrate mine and curse it. The very last thing he said was, we mingled our blood and seed, now my sacrificed blood will mingle with your lineage unto the third and fourth generation. Then he signed his name in blood.”

            “What did he mean by you mingled your blood and seed?” Drew asked.

            “You don’t want to know.”

            “Of course I do, that’s why I asked.”

            “Haven’t I told my children that I didn’t want them researching my time in ‘The Sons of Molech? The person I was then is dead, just in a different way than Izzy.”

            “And I’ve honored that request. But now you’re telling me that something about your time in that situation has rendered the woman I love unworthy to marry.”

            “When I partook in the ritual to sell my soul for rock and roll, we drank a strange concoction. It contained three ingredients mixed in a large chalice.  The base was liquor, but the other two ingredients came from our bodies. We each submitted a vial of blood and…”

            “Okay, I get what was in it.”

            “You wanted to know,” Arlo said with more hostility than I had ever heard from the man.

            “I had no choice… So you guys drank each other’s…”

            “Eli and I were nineteen. Izzy and our drummer Kyle had already had a taste of success in the rock scene. Eli and I were young and dumb and on our own in LA. We were willing to do whatever it took to achieve fame and fortune.”

            “Okay, I don’t need to know any more about that aspect,” Drew said and looked me right in the eyes as he continued speaking with his father. “But I still don’t find that reason enough, at all, to call off our marriage. As a matter of fact, after we get back, I hope Nancy will agree to marry me as soon as Pastor Samson will perform the ceremony.”

            I was confused, distraught, and unable to hold Drew’s gaze any longer. I looked at my feet.

            “I don’t believe in coincidences,” Drew’s dad said forcefully. “What are the odds that you and Nancy just happened to become friends? Then romantic? Then to find out she shares fifty percent of her DNA with a deranged satanist who warned that he was gonna mingle his blood and seed with mine. I have the written documentation to prove it.”

            “Documentation?”

            “Hey, he may have been an out of control nut job in the end, but he took his demonism seriously.”

            “So what exactly do you think is gonna happen?” Drew asked incredulously. “You seem to be putting more faith in Izzy cursing you, or us, or whatever, rather than trusting God.”

            “No, it’s not that at all. Let me be frank for a minute.”

            “You mean other than Dad or Arlo?”

            “Under normal circumstances I would find that funny. However, to be frank, I don’t like the idea of Izzy and I having both of our DNA existing in the same grandchild.”

            Rather than tell his dad I likely couldn’t bear children, Drew simply replied, “Look, if we ever have a boy I promise we won’t name him Damien.”

            “That’s not funny.”

            “I’m not trying to be. Forgive me but this whole conversation has seemed ludicrous.”

            “I know it has. But on the other hand we live in a strange, fallen world.”

            “Look, here’s the way I see it, Dad. The flesh profits nothing, it’s the Spirit that counts. As in the Holy Spirit. You look at Nancy and my lives converging as a bad omen. The way I see it, her mother came to Iowa as an answer to prayer. And that answer to prayer was seeing you and Uncle Eli on the cover of a Christian magazine. She read how you and Eli repented of your lives in ‘The Sons of Molech,’ and were both living for God and family in the heartland, and she moved there herself in hopes her daughter could find healing from extreme abuse. That causes me to trust in light rather than fear darkness.”

            “I respect that, Son, I truly do. But I’ve also tried my best to protect my family from the dangerous dark stuff I was involved with for many years. God saved me and blessed me, and I’m very thankful for that. But there has also been an element that has haunted me all these years. With all that you have just informed me, I feel like the walls of protection I have constructed with God’s help through the years are collapsing in on me with this news.”

            “I’m sorry you feel that way, Dad.”

            “Please tell me you’ll consider my warning.”

            “With all due respect, I don’t need to consider. I love Nancy, I trust God, and I’m not superstitious. For me, she’s a gift from God, not an obstacle from Satan like you seem to think.”

            Arlo sighed heavily. “Look, we’ll talk when you get home. This conversation is not going anywhere.”

            “I want to see Izzy’s letter or note or whatever it is.”

            Pause. “Fair enough.”

            Drew and his father exchanged goodbyes. Then Drew took my hand. “Sorry about all that.”

            I shrugged, looked away from him for a few seconds, then back and asked, “How come you left that call on speaker?”

            “You want the truth, right?”

            I nodded. “But it hurts. I don’t get why Arlo is blaming me.”

            “He’s not blaming you.”

            “How can you say that when he was practically insisting that you don’t marry me?”

            “I don’t know what to tell you. He has always appeared to me to be such a man of faith. It completely took me by surprise to hear him react so irrationally. But I also thought his time in the occult was behind him. It never occurred to me that he felt haunted.”

            “His reaction surprised me too.”

            “Please don’t take it personally.”

            “It’s hard not to.”

            “I know. But his problem ultimately is with Izzy.”

            “I didn’t choose who my parents were.”

            He smiled warmly and said, “But Phebe chose you.”

            “Yes, she did!” I replied. Then several sobs burst forth. Drew hugged me tight, but I felt so tired and weak I could barely get my hands onto his shoulders.

            When I calmed and we separated, he said, “Despite my Dad’s bizarre reaction to Izzy being, you know… We will still get married as soon as possible.”

            “No,” I replied shaking my head vigorously.

            The smile left Drew’s face. “Why not? Don’t tell me you agree with his reasoning.”

            “It’s not that. I don’t want to get married without both of your parents’ blessings.”

            Drew began to chew on his lower lip as he looked away from me. I knew what he was thinking. His mother was repulsed by Izzy every bit as much as his father.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 18

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 18

DREW

HE REVEALS DEEP AND SECRET THINGS; HE KNOWS WHAT IS IN THE DARKNESS, AND LIGHT DWELLS WITH HIM. (Daniel 2:22)

          “Mom,” my beautiful bride began meekly. But then she paused, and I feared she was battling hostility. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

          “What is it, Sweety?” Phebe asked with concern.

          “Are you actually my aunt?” Nancy blurted.

          Phebe’s face looked stunned. Then it morphed into sadness. Then she took a deep breath herself and blew it out slowly before saying, “Yes.”

          Nancy’s demeanor became calm and business like, which I suppose was better than out right anger. “So how come you never told me?”

          Phebe was clearly rattled as she nervously twisted a napkin in her fingers. “I was always torn with what to do. The time to tell you never seemed quite right. Also, there was this side where I felt it was better to leave sleeping dogs lay. There was also the aspect that I raised you more than your biological mother did, and I mean even here in California before all the bad stuff came to light.”

          “So where is she?” Nancy wanted to know.

          “After everything went down with the creep she was married to. How he was abusing you and others. She died of a heroin overdose the day after he was arrested.”

          “Suicide.”

          “Who knows?”

          “I also have reason to believe the creep wasn’t my biological father,” Nancy told her.

          Phebe shook her head. “No he’s not, regardless of what your birth certificate states.”

          “So you knew? That also would have been nice to know. Do you know what it was like believing half of my DNA was from him all these years?”

          Tears began to leak from Phebe’s eyes. “I’m truly sorry. It was such a difficult time, especially before it was found out that the creep was making that vile filth. He and your mom divorced, and they had joint custody. That’s how he was able to use you in…”

          “Did you know?”

          “No, Honey, you know I didn’t.”

          “Well, you let me think you were my birth mother all these years.”

          “All I knew was that there was something off about the man. I swear to God that I didn’t know he was making porn until that brave boy jumped through the window.”

          “He’s how I found out the truth.”

          Phebe nodded. “I figured. He came to talk to me some time ago.”

          “And you still didn’t tell me, knowing he knew your secret?”

          “What can I say? I’m a procrastinator, and after all this time, I didn’t know how to go about it.”

          “I don’t even know my real mom’s name,” Nancy said testily.

          Phebe hung her head, and her lower lip quivered. “It’s Phoenix.”

          “My real mom’s name is Phoenix?”

          Phebe was unable to lift her eyes, and my heart broke for her. I gently said, “Nancy.”

          “What?” She snapped, as her fiery gaze shifted to me.

          I don’t know what she saw in my face, but hers softened.  And I said, “The flesh profits nothing, it’s the spirit that counts… Phebe is your real mom.”

          A look of wonder came into my fiancée’s face. Then she quickly moved in front of her mother and knelt. Hugging her she said, “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry! Drew is right, you are my real mom, and I love you so much. I just want the truth.”

          “I love you too, Honey, more than anything in the world.”

          “Yes I know. You proved that by moving me halfway across the country. But I do wish you would have told me about our family situation.”

          After the two women hugged for a minute, Phebe said, “You were traumatized, Honey. Your first therapist suggested I let you believe that I was your mother. It wasn’t hard because when Phoenix had her turn with the joint custody, it was usually me looking after you. And she and I looked identical, so you probably didn’t know the difference.”

          “Where is… where are her remains?” Nancy asked.

          “She was cremated, and her ashes were scattered in the ocean.”

          “Who are your parents?”

          “You don’t want to know.”

          “Yes I do. I’m an adult now, I want to know my roots.”

          “Your roots have been severed. Like Drew said, the flesh profits nothing.”

          “Why don’t you want me to know about my grandparents?”

          “Because I ultimately hold them responsible for what happened to you, and what happened to my sister.”

          “I don’t understand.”

          “Long story short, my parents were heavily involved in the occult. I shunned their belief system, while Phoenix embraced it. Because of my sister’s involvement in satanism, she became associated with the creep that abused you. She also became strung out on drugs, so much so, she neglected her own daughter.”

          “Where are your parents?” Nancy asked.

          “My father is dead, and, the last I knew, my mother lives in Santa Monica.”

          “I assume you don’t associate with her.”

          “Your assumption is correct.”

          “When did your dad die?”

          “Almost two years ago.”

          “Yet you apparently never let on, because I had no idea.”

          Phebe shrugged. “He was already dead to me.”

          “When was the last time you spoke to your mother?”

          “When my dad died. Mom wanted me to come to his funeral. I refused, and she was angry.”

          “So if the creep isn’t my dad, who is?”

          Phebe looked at me, and then back to her daughter. “This is also another aspect I never knew how to explain. I know you think I moved to Iowa because of my friend Grace. Which it was truly a part of why I went there. But I went there because of Drew’s dad, and his friend Eli.”

          “Huh?” Nancy frowned. “How did you know Drew’s dad?”

          “I didn’t.”

          “I’m not following.”

          “Well, after everything went down with the boy jumping out of the window, I felt the need to take you far away from the situation. I didn’t know where to go. I saw Drew’s dad and his friend and bandmate Eli on the cover of a Christian magazine. I knew they had been in the satanic band ‘Son’s of Molech.’

          “I read the article, about how they had turned their lives around, became Christians, and formed a Christian band along with Eli’s son and his son’s wife. The article mentioned they  resided in eastern Iowa after living in California for most of their adult lives. They said Iowa brought them a fresh start, that it was where the two friends met as teenagers. I felt like it was a sign for you to get a fresh start there as well.”

          Nancy looked stunned but managed to say, “Well, you must have been amazed when I became friends with Arlo’s son.”

          “Indeed I was.”

          “Yet you didn’t tell me the connection.”

          “Honey, like I said…”

          “That’s so weird,” Nancy said with a deep frown. “You moved halfway across the country because of two guys on a magazine cover. Two guys you didn’t even know.”

          “Well, I didn’t know them, but you see, they knew your father.”

          “Okay, now that’s the million dollar question. Please tell me who the sperm donor was.”

          “He was a man named Donald Reed.”

          I felt my toes curl, my body tense, and my mouth drop open. Nancy did a double take when she saw my reaction. “Drew, do you know this Donald Reed?”

          “I know of him,” I told my bride to be. “He was bandmates with my dad and Uncle Eli in “The Sons of Molech’. He was the singer but went by the stage name Izzy Iscariot.”

          Nancy’s expression was one of bewilderment. But she asked, “Was he the one that got really drunk and choked to death on his own vomit, or the one that killed himself in a very violent manner?”

          I cleared my throat. “The latter.”

          “I was so glad to find out that I didn’t share DNA with the creep that abused me,” Nancy replied numbly. “But I don’t know that this Izzy character is a very big step up.”

          “I don’t know what to tell you,” I told her. “I don’t know much about him myself. Both my dad and Eli never wanted to go into detail about their former band after God helped them turn their lives around. They just warned about the dangers of the occult. My dad even insisted that Jerry and I never look into his old band.”

          “So your dad won’t tell me about him?”

          “I don’t know,” I shrugged.

          “What do you know about him?” she asked Phebe.

          “Not much, I only met him twice, and that was enough. He was like a feral animal.”

          “If my dad won’t tell you, maybe Jerry can tell you something,” I said.

          “I thought you said Arlo told you guys to stay away from learning about the band.”

          “I obeyed; Jerry didn’t.”

          What would my dad think? I had to call him and find out.

          “Hey, how is it out west?” my dad greeted cheerily.

          After very brief small talk, I told him. “So Nancy found out who her biological parents are. It just so happens you know her father.”

          “I do?” he chuckled. “Small world.”

          “Very small!”

          “Yeah? Well who is it?”

          “Donald Reed.”

          Silence.

          “Dad?”

          Silence.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 17

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 17

NANCY

STAND FAST THEREFORE IN THE LIBERTY BY WHICH CHRIST HAS MADE US FREE, AND DO NOT BE ENTANGLED AGAIN WITH A YOKE OF BONDAGE    (Galatians 5:1)

          As Nancy gazed out of the airplane window, she reminded me of the girl I saw for the first time more than a decade ago on the playground. Her demeanor was both defiant as in ‘don’t mess with me,’ coupled with sad and lonely.

          I had a hard time concentrating on the book I was reading since I kept stealing glances at her out of the corner of my eye. During one such peak her head snapped in my direction, and my eyes flipped quickly back to my book.

          I felt her fingers on my chin, then she gently turned my head to look at her. She was grinning as she said, “Always keeping a watchful eye on me, huh Drew?”

          “Whatever do you mean?” I replied innocently.

          “I mean, you’ve always been there for me, even when I wasn’t there for you,” she told me as her eyes welled.

          “You’ve always been there for me as well.”

          She snorted. “Hardly. I’m sure you recall our three year hiatus, instigated by me.”

          “We were kids, foolish teenagers that needed time to grow.”

          She laughed, and for the first time since she was told her mother was actually her aunt, she looked somewhat happy. “Have you forgotten that we’re still teenagers?”

          “Maybe so, but we’re much closer to twenty than twelve.”

          “Maturity wise, you’re more like forty,” she said, and then looked at the book in my hand. “Make that more like sixty. How many teenagers have a physical book in their hands on a flight, rather than a phone?”

          “Hey, stop aging me,” I joked. “You’ll have me over a hundred by the time I really am forty.”

          “Just think how wise you’ll be, though.”

          “Well, okay, as long as I don’t have a hundred year old body when I’m forty.”

          She looked at me fondly, but behind her eyes was that unbearable sadness again. “Those three years without you in my life were so empty.”

          “There was a huge void for me as well.”

          She looked at me with a baffled expression. “I completely understand why I love you. What I don’t understand is why love me. I tend to be moody and witchy, I have hard time being girly, I come from an incredibly dysfunctional family. So you’re, like, too good to be true.”

          “Well, let me address these one at a time,” I told her. “When you go through a spell of darkness, your light shines all the brighter when you come through the other side. As for not being girly, I like that you’re not. It makes your natural femininity all the more beautiful to me. And obviously you have had a dismal childhood, whereas mine was very blessed. So I want more than anything to bring you into that fold by making you my wife. But first we have to repair the breach you feel with the only family you currently have.”

          “I don’t know how I could make this trip without you by my side. Even with you, I don’t know how to confront who I thought was my mom about her actually being my aunt.”

          “Are you that angry with her that you view our trip to California as a confrontation?”

          “I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just… confused.”

          “How do you feel about her?”

          She smiled wryly at me. Then she said softly, “You really get me.”

          “Do I?” I asked with a shrug.

          “You’ve always known when to leave me be, and you’ve always known when to talk.”

          “Are you avoiding my question?”

          Her mood swung back to seeming happy as she laughed. “See, you even knew I was avoiding the question.”

          “Are you gonna answer it?” I asked gently.

          She looked away from me and her expression turned pensive. After a minute she looked at me and spoke with a bit of hostility. “I’m angry that she lied to me all these years. It was bad enough I endured, you know… Then the rest of my childhood, I grew up believing my mom was my mom, when in reality she was my aunt. It rattles my faith in everything.”

          “Including your new relationship with Christ?”

          She nodded. “Can you blame me?”

          “No, but it’s not surprising.”

          “Why is that?”

          “You remember that there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repents?” (Luke 15:7)

          “Yes, of course.”

          “Well, on the other hand there is anger in the demonic realm. Jesus warned us that in this world we would have tribulation, or trouble. (John 16:33) Then he told us what?”

          “Be of good cheer I have overcome the world,” Nancy finished with anything but cheer, her arms folded, her gaze at the back of the seat in front of her. Then she turned to me and said a bit testily, “Well, then you tell me what I should think and feel about Phebe.”

          I had never heard her call her mother/aunt by her first name before. So I cautiously replied, “I’m sure she had her reasons.”

          Nancy snorted and turned her gaze back to the back of the seat in front of her.

          “Here’s what I do know. Your mom…”

          “She’s my aunt,” she interrupted stubbornly.

          “No, she’s your mother,” I relied with equal stubbornness.

          “If she was truly my mother, I would have known she had a twin sister. It seems I know nothing about my family, and Phebe would never answer my questions about her parents or any other relatives. She would just tell me it was best I didn’t know, or you don’t want to know. So that’s why I don’t feel optimistic about this trip. I don’t know who she is.”

          “She’s the woman who raised you.”

          “Under a huge lie.”

          “She’s the only family you’ve got.”

          She looked at me again, and any semblance of happiness was gone. She appeared so lost and vulnerable, I couldn’t help saying, “Until we are married. Then you and I will be family.”

          Nancy and I were not a couple prone to public affection. But she emitted a little whimper and kissed me firmly on the mouth. Although delighted, as soon as our lips separated, I looked to my right, slightly embarrassed. But the seat next to me was vacant, and the older lady in the end seat appeared to be sleeping.

          “There’s something I want to make sure you’re considering about your mother,” I said.

          “Stop calling her my mother,” she said quietly, yet menacingly, then folded her arms abruptly. “Phebe’s my aunt.”

          “Maybe she’s biologically your aunt,” I said gently. “But she left her life in California and came to Iowa, far away from your trauma, to raise you, to protect you. Obviously you’re aware of all the beach décor in the house you two lived in. Then practically the minute you left for college, and moved in with Addie, she returned to California. She came to the Midwest knowing only one friend here, and then spent a decade away from the ocean and other friends she loved.”

          “Yeah,” she replied with a look of wonder on her face. Then after staring trance like at the back of her seat for half a minute, she spoke as if to herself. “How did I not see that? I guess couldn’t see the forest because of all the trees.”

          “I have no doubt that Phebe loves you,” I declared.

          “Yes, thank you for opening my eyes,” she responded softly, squeezed my hand. “I do believe my mom loves me.”

          Nancy’s mother/aunt lived in a condo with two other women in Huntington Beach. It was in walking distance from the Pacific Ocean. Despite the deceptions about her childhood, Nancy and Phebe hugged warmly. I was thrilled when Nancy said, “Hi Mom.”

          “Oh Sweety, I was so excited when you let me know you were coming,” Phebe told her, then smiled warmly at me. “And doubly excited that you brought Drew.” Then she laughed. “And triply excited that you two made up and are friends again.”

          “We’re more than friends, Mom, we’re engaged,” Nancy said happily, looking at me and then back to her mom/aunt.

          “Oh Honey, that’s wonderful!” Phebe practically shouted, then hugged her daughter/niece again. Then she hugged me, kissed my cheek, and told us ‘Congratulations.’

          There was a clear family resemblance between the two women. Especially with their hair since Nancy’s red gold hair was now shoulder length, and her mother/aunt’s hair that was once down to her tail bone strawberry blonde hair was now in a short bob.

          Phebe was very much a modern hippie. Long flowing colorful dresses, plenty of beads with rings on most of her fingers. She also had a laid back surfer drawl, which may or may not have been enhanced by the imbibing of marijuana.

          One of Phebe’s roommates was conveniently in Oregan visiting kids and grandkids over that Labor Day weekend. So Nancy was able to stay in her room over our three day stay. I slept in a hideaway bed in the living room. Nancy’s mom/aunt was puzzled that we didn’t sleep together, even after we explained that we weren’t married yet.

          This opened the door for Nancy to share her new Christian faith with Phebe. Her reaction was neutral. Although her vocal response was affirmative by saying ‘that’s nice.’ Her bodily reaction was stiff, as if to say ‘don’t push it on me.’

          Nancy was usually a very gung ho type of person. So I was a little surprised that we were there more than a full twenty four hour day before Nancy broached the subject that had inspired our trip out west in the first place. It came after dinner, during our second evening at Phebe’s.

          “Would you like some dessert?” Nancy’s mom/aunt asked. “I have strawberry ice cream or a coconut Pepperidge Farm cake. Or we could have both.”

          “No thanks,” my bride to be answered with an eerie calm, her fingers laced together and resting on top of the table. “But there is a serious matter I’d like to discuss with you.”

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 14

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 14

JEREMIAH “JERRY” ALDO (DREW’S BROTHER)

HE IS A DOUBLE MINDED MAN, UNSTABLE IN ALL HIS WAYS (James 1:8)

            “You gotta be kidding me!” I told my little brother.

            “About which?” Drew responded with a chuckle.

            “Both,” I replied, initially feeling more concerned than happy for him.

            He had just told me that he was reunited with Nancy, his longtime friend that was a girl. But strangely, after more than three years of animosity between them, she was now his girlfriend. Not only that, he had just revealed his plan to propose marriage. But before informing me of this, he declared Nancy’s intention to be baptized.

            This whole situation was a head scratcher. I always knew Drew was crazy about Nancy. The great divide in their friendship more than three years ago had to do with religion. She professed atheism and my brother seemed on his way to sainthood. So as they got older, their union became more like oil and water.

            As for marriage, I had been certain that Nancy was a lesbian for a few reasons. For one thing, although she’s kind of pretty, she never tried to look girly. She typically sported a short, boyish haircut, boyish clothes, and wore no jewelry or makeup.

            For another thing, it didn’t seem like she reciprocated Drew’s feelings. And little bro is a good looking guy. Also, after her rift with Drew, her constant companion became this big, strong athletic chick, Addie, who always wore rainbow colored bracelets. Then they moved in together after high school. Forgive me for assuming, but if it looks like a duck.

            “Well, this is ironic,” I told him.

            “What is?”

            “Both.”

            “Both of what?” Drew asked with both a grin and a frown.

            “You and Nancy married, and Nancy baptized.”

            “What’s ironic about it?”

            “For one thing, Nancy being an adamant atheist getting baptized.”

            “She was more agnostic than atheist, but now she has seen the light.”

            I considered telling him that another part of the irony was Nancy joining our church as I had fallen farther and farther away from it. But I sat on it, so he asked, “What’s the other irony?”

            “You the consummate loner when it comes to dating is getting married. And me, the guy with the unfair label of womanizer is all alone.”

            “I don’t think your reputation is unfair. You’re not even twenty and have dated more than a dozen girls. And as for me getting married, I haven’t even asked her yet.”

            “Yeah, I’ve hung out with a lot of girls. But can you name me one actual girlfriend?”

            “What about your current lady, Brenda?”

            “Former. But if you thought of her as my girlfriend, you’re right, she was my longest relationship at a whopping six weeks.”

            He looked at me with concern. My brother knew I was a hypocrite. He knew I rode the fence between the world and the church. But as closely as he walked with the Lord, he didn’t know my heart, only God did.

            “So what happened?”

            “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

            “You know me better than that.”

            “Brenda and I broke up because she wanted to have sex.”

            I couldn’t help laughing through my misery as my brother looked at me like I had two heads. Then he chuckled. “I thought you said she wanted to have sex. You must have meant that she refused to have sex.”

            “No, you heard me right.”

            Now he looked at me like I had three heads, but this time I didn’t laugh. Even my own brother, who I felt very close to, assumed I had bedded several females. But I didn’t hold it against him. He was never nosey about my private life, and I usually didn’t kiss and tell.

            “I don’t understand,” Drew frowned. I would now have to change him from never nosey to seldom. “It’s well known that you’re a, you know, player.”

            “Some reputations are unfair. But to be fair, I never minded the assumptions.”

            “So you’ve never actually had, you know, intimate relations?”

            “Nope.”

            “How can that be? You go to parties, you drink stuff that you shouldn’t, you often come home when the sun is coming up.”

            “I’m not gonna deny kissing and getting touchy feely with the girls, but I’ve never actually had sex.”

            “Why?” he asked dumbfounded. Not that he thought I should have, he just didn’t understand the reality.

            “I know I haven’t always followed the fundamental beliefs of our church,” I admitted.

            “Ya think,” he replied with a little smile as he tossed me a subtle rebuke.

            “But due to our upbringing, I don’t know, I couldn’t bring myself to use a girl for sex when I didn’t feel like it was someone I wanted to commit to.”

            “I see,” he replied as he put a thoughtful finger to his nose and gazed at me as if he were a psychoanalyst.

            My feet shifted uneasily. I guess I was hoping for some kind of pat on the back, not just ‘I see.’ So I said a little testily, “It’s as simple as that… I suppose.”

            “I’m pleased to find this out, Jerry. Don’t feel weirded out.”

            Okay, that was more what I was looking for. He was pleased. “I’m not weirded out… Well, maybe a little.”

            “Can I ask you something without you thinking I’m being judgmental?”

            “Go for it.”

            “You basically admitted to being backslidden.”

            “I suppose I did.”

            “How?”

            “What do you mean how?”

            “I mean we have an understanding of the whole Bible. Especially our understanding of prophecy and how it has been mostly fulfilled in history, and not some fake futuristic interpretation. I still get goose bumps thinking about Daniel 7:25 and how approximately one thousand years after it was written, it was profoundly fulfilled by Emperor Constantine in the fourth century when he made Christianity a legal religion. Thereby bringing many pagan sun worship characteristics into the church. In particular Solis Invicti, which is the day of the sun, Sunday.

            “He declared this the ‘Sabbath’ of the Roman Empire rather than the Sabbath God wrote with His own finger in Exodus chapter twenty, and instituted at Creation in Genisis 2:2 and 3. Thereby arrogantly thinking to change times and law predicted by in Daniel 7:25. The Sabbath being both a time as well as a law. This same verse also predicted the result would be a religious power that persecuted God’s people, the saints. This was fulfilled to a T during the dark ages. Now there is just one major piece of the prophetic puzzle to be fulfilled, and it’s rapidly building to the conclusion.”

            “If you really believe the end of the world is near, why do you want to get married?”

            He shrugged. “We know the end is close by the signs of the prophetic times, but no one knows the day or the hour. It could be this year, or another hundred years plus.”

            I’m ashamed to admit that although I grew up in the same church as Drew, I goofed and fooled around more than I paid attention. I counted down minutes until the service was over, instead following the scriptures the Pastor instructed us to look up. So I only had a superficial understanding of what Drew was expounding on.

            I admitted all this to my brother. “So I guess I got drawn away by the things of the world. I was more interested in dreaming about a career in sports. I got sucked away in the parties and the girls. Then I blew my knee out, and tore my rotator cuff, and I just wasn’t the same after. So I lost myself in the party lifestyle, looking for adventure, and looking for love. So now I find myself here talking to you. Lost in love, lost my sporting career, and I’m finding parties and looking for thrills a dead end road.”

            “Well, God’s mercies are new every morning,” Drew told me with a reassuring smile. (Lamentations 3: 22 and 23)

            I shrugged. “I guess that’s good to know.”

            “No guessing about it,” Drew replied happily.

            I felt a strange mixture of irritation and hope. It had only been two days since I had experienced another failed chance at a mate. Plus I was hung over from trying to drown my sorrows with a bottle of Jim Bean Kentucky Bourbon. I pinched my nose and groaned.

            “Hey, I think God’s timing is impeccable,” Drew told me enthusiastically.

            I felt the balances shift on my mixed emotions, but it was irritation that was outweighing hope on the spiritual scales. Sarcastically I responded, “Well, I’m glad you think my discouragement is a positive thing.”

            “Dear brother, sometimes we need to be brought low in order to see our, well, need. I can see you’re in need right now, and it comes at just the right time.”

            “What are you talking about?” I asked impatiently.

            “Sevenia Sallie is going to be leading a revival, slash, prophecy seminar.”

            “Is she that teenager some have called the girl prophetess?”

            “Well, she was a teenager when she did her first one, but she might be twenty years old now. So have you met her?”

            “No, you know I haven’t been to church much the last couple years.”

            “It starts the day after tomorrow. Why don’t you come?”

            “I don’t know,” I whined.

            “What else you gonna do? Drink yourself into oblivion like you did last night?”

            “How’d you know I got drunk last night?”

            “It’s pretty obvious you’re hung over. Just give it a try. Sevenia is a compelling teacher. If it doesn’t trip your trigger, well, just don’t come again. But I think you can spare an hour to give it a chance.”

            I reluctantly agreed and then couldn’t believe I almost chose to miss out. Sevenia, daughter of the radio broadcaster Seven Sallie, was indeed a captivating speaker. I was also smitten with her look.

            To most guys, she would probably appear to be a plain Jane. Like Nancy, she wore no makeup or jewelry. But unlike Nancy, her shoulder length auburn hair and knee length denim skirt made her appear more girly. Plus, her tan cowboy boots with light blue and lavender plaid shirt gave her a country girl appearance I loved.

            I was being drawn in two directions as I not only listened but took notes on her presentation. Her teachings were drawing me toward repentance, and her person was making me wonder if she was single. Would she go for a guy like me? When we shook hands after she ended the seminar for the evening, any hope of romance between the two of us was quickly shot down.

            Before my brother had a chance to introduce us, she beamed at me and said. “Is your name Jerry?”

            Although I wasn’t famous like my father had been, I had been a locally prominent athlete. I assumed that was why she knew my name, and with exaggerated bravado, I replied, “Yes, ma’am, it is I.”

            She laughed and I grinned from ear to ear. But what she said next immediately wiped the smile from my face.

            “My cousin showed me some pictures of you on her phone several days ago. Although I thought you looked familiar, I didn’t put it together that you were Drew’s brother.”

            With a sinking feeling, I asked, “Who’s your cousin?”

            “The girl you’re dating, Brenda.”

(Writer’s note: If you would like to learn more about authentic Bible Prophecy, please look up David Asscherick’s 5 Good Reasons series on YouTube. Or Amazing Facts ministry featuring Doug Batchelor.)