Tag: writing

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 7

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 7

PENNY

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

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

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

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

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

            “Oh yeah, what’d you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “So when are you gonna see him again?”

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

            “Oh yeah, why’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

             “You clean up nice,” he added.

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

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

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

            “Is that right?”

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

            “Surprisingly?”

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

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

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

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

            “Okay,” he said eagerly.

            “Too bad, I hate heels.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “Can’t you tell?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “So Abby told you this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 6

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 6

ELI

THEN GOD BLESSED THE SEVENTH DAY AND SANCTIFIED IT, BECAUSE IN IT HE RESTED FROM ALL HIS WORK WHICH GOD HAD CREATED AND MADE (Genesis 2:3)

            I was about to take a drag off of my cigarette, for I still smoked in 1999, when there was a menacing laugh and a sharp flick of a finger in front of my face. Instead of my lungs filling with toxic, nicotine laced smoke, I watched my Kool filter king sail off of the back porch I was sitting on. I was at a bed and breakfast where I was now residing after one night in a hotel. The cancer stick sailed into the leafy grass below.

            “Eli, you dog!” Arlo laughed. “You told me you quit smoking.”

            Laughing and rising from my lounge chair, I hugged the only person I considered family at that juncture of my life. But I was excited to share with him about the family I hoped I was gaining.

            “I did quit,” I squeaked, because he was hugging my so tight. “But then I always seem to restart.”

            Arlo looked better than ever, tan and fit. I hadn’t seen him in months. In our band, ‘The Sons Molech,’ Arlo played bass guitar, and his stage persona was similar to the Marvel comic book character Thor. With his long blonde hair, and a physique like a bodybuilder, he played the part well.

            “I thought your flight was coming in this evening,” I told him. “I was planning on picking you up.”

            “I took an earlier flight, and I rented a car,” he explained. “I don’t want to bother you or anyone else for a ride while I’m here.”

            “I’m hoping you’ll be here for a while,” I grinned. “We need a bass player.”

            He frowned but smiled. “Let me guess, your, um, reunion with your son is going well?”

            “I don’t know that it’s called a reunion when we only met a few days ago,” I explained. “But yes, your prayers were answered. Turns out Ethan, my… son, is a singer song writer, and his wife is a very good drummer.”

            “That’s fantastic!” Arlo grinned. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

            “Hey! How about tonight? They’re throwing a birthday party, but I told them I couldn’t stay long because I was picking you up at the airport.”

            “You’re cutting out on your own birthday party for me?” He smiled sheepishly and gave my upper arm a friendly punch.

            “No, it’s for my… granddaughter.”

            “Wow, that sounds weird! Your granddaughter. And she was born on your birthday?”

            “Yep. She was born the day I turned thirty five.”

            “Man, you Alderson’s start young.”

            “Yeah, so young we don’t even know we had kids.”

            “And I suppose nobody knows it’s your birthday as well?”

            “I’ll announce it at the end of the party. I wanted this to be Crystal’s day, and not overshadowed by me.”

            “Good idea,” Arlo said, then his eyes widened. “Fire!”

            He vaulted over the deck railing and began stumping on about a five foot wide circle of burning leaves in the lawn ignited by the cigarette he flicked from my lips. I put a hand on the railing, but thought better of vaulting, and trotted down the six steps into the yard. I also thought better of dancing in the flames and grabbed a nearby watering can. The pail of water extinguished the flames quicker than Arlo’s foot maneuvers.

            “Wow, I hope Mrs. Mendelbright didn’t see this,” I said, looking up at the large Victorian house.

            “Who’s Mrs. Mendelbright?”

            “The proprietor, or landlady if you prefer.”

            Arlo laughed. “That’s a good one.”

            “What is?” I frowned.

            “Mrs. Mendelbright.”

            “What’s so funny about that? She’s a sweet little lady. I don’t want her to think I’m riff raff.”

            “You mean you’re not joking?”

            “Joking about what? We just set her lawn on fire. Actually you did.”

            “So you don’t know who Mrs. Mendelbright is?”

            “Of course I do, she owns this place.”

            “No, I mean the Mrs. Mendelbright I’m talking about,” Arlo tried to explain. “You know ‘The Andy Griffith Show’ right?”

            “Of course, but I can’t say I ever watched much of it, though.”

            “You don’t know what you’re missing, it’s a classic,” Arlo said and then frowned. “So you don’t know who Mrs. Mendelbright is then?”

            “Of course I do, she owns this place.”

            Arlo laughed. “Truth is stranger than fiction. Andy Griffith was the sheriff of this quaint little town of Mayberry. He had this squirrely deputy named Barney Fife. In this one episode, Barney got kicked out of the room he rented from a, get this, Mrs. Mendelbright. He was kicked out of his room for cooking in it against the rules. He burned his food, and she smelled it.”

            “Quick, lets cover this black circle with leaves.” I instructed after hearing his story.

            “Just think if Mrs. Mendelbright discovers this burnt circle and finds out about the band you used to be in,” Arlo laughed.

            “That’s not funny,” I replied, even though I laughed. Then in all seriousness, I said, “I think she has a room available if you want to stay here.”

            “You know, I think I will. I get along well enough with my parents, but it’s just not the same as when I was a kid.”

            “So the old saying is true, you can’t go home once you’ve left.”

            He didn’t seem to like this idea and pointed back and forth between us. “Look, we’re home, ain’t we?”

            “I lived here a little more than a year, and couldn’t wait to leave, so this is hardly my home.”

            “Then what are you doing back with seemingly no timetable to leave?”

            I frowned. “I don’t know, maybe finding a home.”

            He chuckled. “Let’s go see Mrs. Mendelbright about a room.”

            “Nice,” Arlo said as he looked around his room. “It’s like staying at a grandma’s house instead of the hotels we’re used to.”

            “Mrs. Mendelbright makes a great breakfast if you get up in time.”

            “I take it you don’t get up in time?”

            “I’ve never fully gotten away from rock star hours, but she always seems to have a huge homemade muffin available for me… I really hope she doesn’t see the burnt spot in her yard.”

            “Don’t worry about it. I told her.”

            “You what!”

            “My conscience bothered me,” Arlo shrugged. “Like I said, don’t worry, she laughed about it. She even complimented you for not smoking your cigarettes in her room.”

            “Probably laughed it off because your biceps are bigger than my thighs.”

            “I wouldn’t hurt a woman.”

            “She doesn’t know that.”

            “Actually I’m hurt by your insinuation,” Arlo said, placing gentle fingers on his chest. “I won her over with kindness and charm, not intimidation.”

            “Kindness and charm?” I chuckled. “That’s probably how the serpent beguiled Eve.”

            Arlo grinned from ear to ear. “You’ve been reading the Bible I gave you.”

            “Yeah,” I shrugged. Then sensing a sermon was forthcoming, and not in the mood, I said, “Hey, let’s get to that birthday party. Help me load up her presents.”

            “What’s in this box?” Arlo asked as he and I retrieved it out of Mrs. Mendelbright’s garage.

            “A battery powered Jeep. It’s even pink. I also got her a rocking horse. Oh, and a guitar, how could I forget that?” I laughed.

            “Kind of overkill, don’t you think?”

            “Well, I got the rocking horse before I saw the little pink jeep.”

            “How about you let me have one of them?”

            “It’s not your birthday yet. Besides, you’re too big for all of them.”

            “I meant for me to give to your granddaughter. You shouldn’t be so overindulgent.”

            “Okay, how about the rocking horse?”

            “Perfect. A rocking horse from Uncle Arlo.”

            “Great Uncle Arlo.”

            “Awe, you think I’m great?”

            “Sure I do.”

            The party was at Penny’s veterinarian clinic after hours. When I saw the kids were getting pony rides, I selfishly thought it would overshadow my jeep. But I was wrong, she loved it! She was so excited, it also got her past her shyness around me. She actually hugged me and kissed my cheek. For the first time I felt overwhelmed by feelings of love.

            I couldn’t stop a tear from leaking. So this wonderful feeling turned into mortification as two dozen pairs of eyes watched the former macho rockstar Eli Endor weep over the affection of a little girl. But Ariel quickly approached me, wiping her own tear, hugged me, and whispered. “Don’t be embarrassed. That was one of the sweetest things I ever saw.”

            On a different note, I unwittingly witnessed the beginnings of what would turn out to be a complicated love triangle. I immediately noticed a chemistry between Penny and Arlo when they were… would it be introduced or reintroduced? I’ll go with reintroduced, because of the first words out of Arlo’s grinning mouth as they shook hands were, “Gone for a swim lately?”

            I noticed Penny’s lips purse, not in anger, but suppressing her own grin in reference to his throwing her into a lake more than two decades ago. Then she shot back with her own jab. “Taken any steroids lately?”

            “That’s below the belt, young lady, I’ve worked hard for these guns. I’ll admit that I’ve ingested some unhealthy chemicals in my time, but never for artificial muscle growth.”

            “His physique looks pretty natural to me, Pen,” One of Abby’s vet assistants piped up, and then blushed.

            She was a handsome redhead with pretty green eyes. Abby, like her boss Penny, appeared to be a tomboy. I initially wondered if she and Penny were more than coworkers. But I discovered that day by the way she looked at Arlo, that Abby was definitely into dudes. They also had something unique in common.

            “I noticed your cap says, ‘Amazing Facts’,” Abby said to Arlo, referring to the baseball cap he was wearing backwards that advertised his favorite Christian ministry. His blonde ponytail hung behind the bill. “Are you a Sabbatarian?”

            “Yes I am,” Arlo said happily.

            “Me too,” she responded with delight.

            They began a conversation, and I witnessed Penny giving them sideways glances. After their discussion ended, I asked Arlo what a Sabbatarian was.

            “It’s someone who keeps the Biblical Sabbath,” Arlo replied.

            “All Christians go to church on Sunday, so what’s the big deal?”

            “Most, not all. The Biblical Sabbath is actually the seventh day of the week, not the first.”

            “How do you know that?”

            “Cause the Bible tells me so. Starting with Creation in the book of Genesis. God blessed the seventh day and set it apart as a permanent memorial of Creation. It’s also part of the Ten Commandments, the one part of the Bible that God personally wrote.”

            “Well, why do most Christians keep Sunday?”

            “Sunday keeping really took off when Constantine made Christianity a legal religion in the fourth century. When he did, pagan beliefs became merged with Christian beliefs. This led to the dark ages. I’m sure you’ve heard that?”

            “I have, but I don’t know exactly what it is.”

            “It was a period of over more than a thousand years where Christians were persecuted if they didn’t follow the Papacy. The dark ages officially ended 1798 when Napolean’s General Berthier basically arrested the Pope.”

            “Are you really Arlo Aldo, bass player for ‘The Sons of Molech’?

            “Not anymore, old buddy. By the way…”

            “Guys, come get some birthday cake,” Ariel’s voice invited.

            “We’ll talk more later,” Arlo said.

            As I mingled, chatted, and took bites of cake, I heard playful banter between Penny and Arlo. But some of it being playful is questionable. This is the last bit I heard before a big splash.                               Penny asked Arlo, “How come you don’t have any tattoos, but your old bandmates were covered in them? Are you afraid of needles or something?”

            I wasn’t covered with tattoos, but my left arm was pretty much sleaved with various wild animals, skulls, and guitars. Izzy and Kyle on the other hand were almost entirely covered with ink. Izzy even had one on his face.

            “You don’t put bumper stickers on a Lamborghini,” Arlo said happily.

            “But what if it isn’t a real Lamborghini, but kit car?” Penny asked with wide, innocent eyes.

            “That’s it!” Arlo declared as he scooped up Penny in his arms and marched to a pond.

            She squealed and laughed, but as Arlo was about to toss her into the pond, Abby came up behind him and tickled his ribs. He jerked, convulsed, and dropped Penny. Then the two women working in tandem, shoved Arlo into the pond causing a big splash.

            He took it in good humor until I told him. “I don’t know how you’re getting back to the B and B. Because you’re not getting into my car looking like a swamp rat.”

            Penny gave him a ride home. It was warm for late October, and they sat on that back deck where Arlo tended to start fires. They talked for two and a half hours, and a different type of fire was started.