Tag: writing

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 11

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 11

ZELLA LaSTELLA SALLIE

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

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

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

            “Lieutenant,” I greeted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “Over what you told that TV reporter yesterday?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “Oh, yes, sorry,” Destiny winced.

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

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

            “Just ugly,” he said.

            “No, you’re not ugly either.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “I can definitely verify that,” he groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “Prison mates,” Seven broke in.

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

            “Fired would be more accurate, “Lou clarified.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “Former Lieutenant,” he replied coolly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 8

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 8

ZELLA LaSTELLA-SALLIE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “I don’t want to impose.”

            “It’s no imposition.”

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

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

            “We insist Brent,” Seven said.

            “Are you sure?” Brent asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “Thinking he was funny,” I interrupted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “Right,” I responded, still smiling.

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

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 7

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 7

SEVEN SALLIE

TRUST IN THE LORD WITH ALL YOUR HEART AND LEAN NOT ON YOUR OWN UNDERSTANDING (Proverbs 3:5)

            We had just found out that Inga’s brother was at the police station. After Triple Lou informed us that Inga’s brother was in town, she practically sprinted toward my car.

            “Why don’t you all ride with me?” Lieutenant Louis Lewis offered.

            This caused Inga to do an about face and she boogied to the lieutenant’s car instead.

            “But how will we get home?” I asked.

            “I’ll bring you back,” he shrugged. “If you ride with me, it will give us a chance to talk and for me to ask more questions.”

            The three of us, Inga, Zella, and myself began to get into the back seat of the Lieutenant’s unmarked police car. Triple Lou shook his head impatiently. “You all don’t need to get in the backseat; you’re not under arrest. Inga, why don’t you sit up front?”

            Inga had a look on her face like a child being punished, but she slowly removed her foot from the back seat of the car and went to the front. The main thing we learned from listening in on Triple Lou’s interrogation was that the other lady she came to Iowa with also had been a resident of the alien cult’s compound. This would prove to be a key factor with Inga’s sister turning up in the Midwest from the west coast.

            Inga’s reunion with her brother was odd. Both had a look of fascination on their faces when they saw each other. Yet when they hugged, there was more formality in the embrace rather than warmth. They also didn’t look like brother and sister. Did the three siblings all have different fathers?

            Brent’s black hair was slicked back. His close set, dark eyes looked hard. He was wearing a black shirt with a grey tie, black slacks, and shiny black cowboy boots. His appearance made me think of a mafia hit man. His deep voice was California cool. “Well little sis, you just kind of fell off the map. I was starting to think I’d never see you again.”

            “What about you? You joined the Marines and closed the door on us.”

            “No I didn’t. Pal wrote to me, but you didn’t.”

            Inga shrugged. “I guess I was mad at you for leaving us. I suppose you know she’s… Gone, our Pal, Pal?”

            I noticed his jaw clench and he stoically said, “Yeah.”

            “Pal, Pal,” she croaked. Then Brent pulled her into another embrace. This time there was more warmth, and he kissed the top of her head as she cried into his left pectoral. He looked rather fit when his biceps pressed against the fabric of his shirt as he held his sister in his arms.

            “How did you know to come here?” Inga asked after she pushed away from him. “From wherever it is you’re living?”

            “I’ve been in Miami for the last year or so,” he replied. “When my hitch was up in the Corps, I started working for a high end security firm.”

            I broke in and asked if the name of his firm was such and such.

            “Yeah,” he replied with raised eyebrows. “How did you know?”

            “I took a guess,” I said with a shrug. “My cousin Brock worked for a high end security company with an office in Miami. That would have been before your time though. But I got to know one of his coworkers who is still there. Do you know a Benito Bonanno?”

            He smirked. “I certainly I do; he’s my supervisor.”

            “Good guy,” I added.

            “Benny’s the best. I was ready to rejoin the Marines after a few months. I was working for a real (Expletive) in LA and was gonna quit. Benny happened to be out there at the time on an assignment and took a liking to me. He talked me into staying with the firm and moving to Miami and for working for him. Man, I never thought I would run into somebody here who knows Benito Bonanno. Small world.”

            “Speaking of small worlds,” Inga cut in. “How did you end up out here when Paloma was only discovered hours ago?”

            “Pal called me two days ago and said you were in trouble.”

            “What made her think I was in trouble?”

            “Did you come out here with Jane Joplin?”

            “I did.”

            “Well apparently she went to Bryson Bronx and told him where you were. I imagine she got a handsome reward.”

            “That traitor,” Inga said quietly. “So how did Pal find out?”

            “Do you remember a girl by the name of Priscilla Rosenwinkle?”

            “Of course I do,” Inga smiled. “Silly Priscilly. She was a little redhaired pistol. She always reminded me of Pippi Longstocking.”

            “Well she’s all grown up and living in Las Vegas, and it turns out she and Paloma got together occasionally.  Her sister, who still lives on the compound, got wind of Jane’s agenda. She heard that Bronx was sending two of his guys to Iowa. She also heard that she gave him your phone number and had it tapped. That’s why she came out here in person without giving you a heads up.”

            “So she died trying to save me,” Inga said quietly, staring at the floor in contemplation.

            “Yeah, I suppose so,” he said gently. “But don’t you dare think this was your fault.”

            “Pal and me, we had a falling out, you know,” Inga said quietly, wiping a leaked tear with a finger.

            “No I didn’t know.”

            “You know what she was doing in Vegas, right?”

            “Working at a casino,” Brent replied with a little shrug.

            “Hardly,” Inga snorted. “She took up the trade that is only legal in Nevada.”

            Brent gazed at his sister in disbelief. “No way.”

            “Yes way,” Inga responded. “That’s why I came out here with Jane. She said she knew someone, said we’d get jobs. Neither happened. She couldn’t find her supposed friend, and we got no jobs. We ended up in a homeless camp, and not long after that, she bailed on me. Eventually I ended up getting busted for shop lifting at a grocery store. That’s how I met Mr. and Mrs. Sallie here.”

            Inga waved an open hand at Zella and me.

            “So you’re what, a lawyer?” Brent asked. “I assumed you were a cop.”

            I opened my mouth to explain, but Inga spoke first. “He’s a windbag.”

            I closed my mouth, pursed my lips in exasperation, and looked at Inga with hooded eyes. My wife put her mouth to my ear. “Honey, you look like Daffy Duck when he’s exasperated with Bugs Bunny.”

            I relaxed my expression. Inga stepped to me and put an arm around my lower back. Looking at her brother, she said, “I didn’t mean that. There’s just something about Seven that makes me want to tease him all the time. Truth is, he and Zella took me in. They’re saintly people.”

            Inga sniffed and wiped a tear with the hand that wasn’t clutching my waist. What range of emotions the poor girl was enduring. I put my arm around her and gave her an affectionate hug.

            “Hey, wait, you’re Seven Sallie,” Brent replied with a frown.

            “Yes sir, I am he,” I acknowledged with mock nobility.

            He nodded. “Okay, I see what Inga meant by windbag.”

            I felt the Daffy Duck expression return to my face. Brent must have noticed and immediately corrected himself. “No, no! I didn’t mean it that way. Just that her joke, windbag, you talk for a living. On your podcast. I’m sure you’ve heard of Josiah Brimstone?”

            “Of course,” I replied. “He’s one my biggest detractors.”

            Brent nodded. Josiah Brimstone had been known as one of the foremost, so called, prosperity gospel preachers. But over the last year or so, he became a champion for Sunday laws, evangelizing their importance. He had also, very publicly, criticized me and my podcast. So I publicly offered to open the scriptures with him on his own program. On that point he was yet to respond, and I guessed he probably wouldn’t.

            “Well, until I took this emergency leave, he was the latest client I have been assigned to,” Brent explained. “Another colleague and myself have been traveling the country with him the last month on his speaking tour.”

            I lifted my hands in surrender. “For my part, I don’t hold that against you.”

            “Hey, just to be clear, there’s nothing to hold against. I am not an admirer or follower of his at all. As a matter of fact, my association with him has only made me more ensconced in atheism.”

            “I’m an atheist too,” I told him.

            He looked at me like I had two heads. Then he snorted and shook his head. “Figures, another religious phony.”

            “I’m no phony, I believe everything I espouse on my podcast.”

            “Then how on earth can you be an atheist?”

            “How about you tell me about the God you don’t believe in?”

            For the next minute or two it sounded like he was reading from a Josiah Brimstone script. But he quoted disparagingly, especially the concept of an eternally burning hell. With a look on his face like he bit into a lemon, he said, “What kind of God would burn people for eternity just because they choose not to believe in him?”

            “See, I told you I was an atheist. I don’t believe in that God either.”

            I went on to explain that a thorough study of the scriptures concerning hellfire and the state of the dead proved that hell, so to speak, was an event at the end of time, and not a place of eternal torment. (You can obtain free study guides on these subjects from Amazing Facts. Simply ask for study guide #11 ‘Is the Devil in Charge of Hell?’ and/or #10 ‘Are the Dead Really Dead?’)

            The timing might have been odd for an impromptu Bible study. But we were soon to be distracted from it. Two uniformed officers entered with a bedraggled looking man in handcuffs. He was shaking violently, whether from some type of drug withdrawal or fear I didn’t know. But when one of the officers spoke, it sent a chill up my spine.

            “Lou, we found Paloma Likas’s cell phone and purse in a grocery cart full of this man’s belongings.”

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.”