THE BOOK OF JATH

Also by John A. T. Hillier:   http://www.marktwainawarhero.com/

 

STREAMS OF STRENGTH ©

Author: John A. T. Hillier

Copyright © 1987, 2012  John A.T. Hillier     johnathillier@pm.me

All Rights Reserved

Any resemblance of characters and events in this publication to real people on the earth, either living or dead, is completely coincidental.

STREAMS OF STRENGTH

 

Chapter 1:  A New Song

Chapter 2:  The Master’s Song

Chapter 3:  The Shadows of Time

Chapter 4:  Slow Light

Chapter 5:  The Apple of His Eye

Chapter 6:  Heaven

Chapter 7:  I Can’t Take it Anymore

Chapter 8:  Quiet Light

Chapter 9:  Provision

Chapter 10: Whispering Winds

Chapter 11: Streams of Strength

Chapter 12: Musical Time

Chapter 13: Valley of Hills

Chapter 14: Never Forgotten

Chapter 15: The Golden City

 

Introduction

   Any civilization, throughout history, can be found fully described in the lyrics and music of that day. The morals, aspirations and desires of the people have always been recorded in songs sung by the chief musicians of each passing generation. The same holds true even today.

    STREAMS OF STRENGTH was a story told – of all places, in an old, seldom-used church. An elderly man narrated the story and he appeared much older than the building in which he would often hold his audiences spellbound. The people referred to him as “The Story-Teller“. Where he came from no one knew. At the end of each story,  he would always quickly leave through a side-door near the back of the church and then seemed to just – disappear.

   It had all started with the children. Church-going was considered an archaic tradition that gave old men and older women a false sense of security. Children were not required to attend church and hear the myths and fables – or so said their parents. The new generation wanted to know nothing about the faith of their forefathers. The ancestral beliefs were considered old-fashion and foolishness.

   One particular old church-building had changed ownership at least a dozen times in as many years, and had been purchased by as many different religious denominations. None of the organizations could fill the church for a Sunday service, and eventually the church was used for only one Sunday a month. It remained empty for the other three –  until a special, old man came along.

   The children were the first to hear about the old man – about his incredible stories! They were fantastic! They were different! They were mesmerizing but seemed so real! He told his stories as if he had been there when the events happened – as if he had been, well …, watching!

   Each Sunday afternoon, at exactly three o’clock, the old man would come in through the side-door and sit down on a rickety, wooden chair near the platform at the front of the church. He would rock himself back and forth in the chair and silently wait until his audience settled in the first-floor pews and in the balconies overhead. The old man never always had such a crowd, but the children told their friends, who told their parents and soon there was hardly a vacant seat in the building. Some parents said they came to hear “The Story-Teller “out of curiosity, while others said they attended each Sunday to ensure their children were not being misled by the strange, old man.

   Whatever their reasons, the parents always dutifully made sure that the children remained silent and never moved when the stories began. A newcomer to the audience would see the parents’ supervision as unnecessary. When “The Story-Teller” began, no one moved or made a sound. No one wanted to!

   The old man always carried a musical instrument which he carefully placed on his lap before starting his story. It was shaped in the form of a “ heart “. There were three openings in the top of the instrument that were also shaped like hearts. The first, near the bottom end, was the largest, the second heart above it was half the size of the first, and the third at the top was one half the size of the second. The “ heart “ had three strings; the two on the sides were of the exact same length but the one in the middle was shorter. The strings formed an image much like this: \ ׀ / . The instrument looked like a Valentine’s Day, candy-box and glowed with a beautiful, light-green color.

   “The Story–Teller” would play the “heart “at the start of each story and then sing a song. Songs were sung throughout the story. Some children said they could see bright colored bubbles float up to the ceiling when the old man played the instrument with his thick, brawny fingers, and that the bubbles were filled with tiny, sparkling, musical notes. They said there were millions and millions of musical notes and that each one had a different color. The adults in the audience said it was but childish fantasy, an imaginative illusion, a strange day-dream; as strange as the light-green clothes worn by “The Story-Teller”.

   One particular Sunday afternoon at precisely three o’clock, every seat in the old church had been filled and as the audience sat quietly still, “The Story-Teller” began to tell a story.

 

Chapter 1: A New Song

 

A New Song

Silent songs, singing his praise,
flow through my head each week of days,
melodious tunes that never were written,
play from instruments expertly smitten.

Each piece of music and delicate sound,
bubbles with joy as I bow to the ground,
bursting with feelings I want to share,
each song contains the beauty I hear.

Wordless thoughts described in a tongue,
clearly express what’s never been sung,
like brilliant beams of singing light,
voicing a new song, found in the night.

One continuous flow of harmonious notes,
joined like the threads of colorful coats,
weave through my mind each with its part,
forming a new song, found in my heart.

  

   The old, gnarled, twisted tree had been standing on the south side of the brown dirt-road for countless generations. Many people passing by had often stared at the old tree in awe and silently thought about all the history the tree had seen. It was the thickest and largest tree along the side of a long stretch of straight road and it towered above all the other trees for as far as the eye could see.

   There was something almost magnetic about the tree. Birds of all kinds settled throughout its branches and each one sang a unique song, but somehow they all blended their voices together in a perfect harmony that created a new song, a happy song, a song that if listened to carefully, whispered secrets about the tree.

   Chipmunks and squirrels, red and brown, had made a home at the feet of the tree and as each harmoniously played about the brawny toes, they would take time after each playful leap to sit back and look up into the leafy umbrella, pause, and then clap a silent applause to the individual members of the on-looking feathered orchestra.

   The graveled area on the side of the road, immediately in front of the tree, had been pounded smooth from the countless feet of visitors who, after exiting from their vehicles, would stand and admire the magnificent product of creation. A person with an excited imagination might even subtly suggest that the other trees along both sides of the long, flat road were leaning slightly towards the aged wonder. The younger trees appeared to bend their branches as if they were ears and listened for advice on how to achieve such longevity. No other trees that could be seen even from a point on the uppermost branches of the ancient wonder, had managed to grow to a third of its size. Fires, droughts and over-cutting by greedy wood-seekers had kept the other trees from ever reaching such gigantic proportions.

   Other gazers, lacking a deep and wide imagination, were nevertheless held hypnotized by the dazzling display of sunlight dancing on the sliver-green leaves. Each delicate breeze made their sparkling brilliance surpass even the mesmerizing dizziness created when a moving, multifaceted mirror reflects a rainbow of colored spotlights.

   This weathered wonder had managed to escape the ongoing disasters that man and nature inflict on both the weak and strong. It was hoped by many, that the giant, oak tree would enjoy as many centuries in the future as it had in its past.

 

Chapter 2: The Master’s Song

 

The Master’s Song

Each thousand years that are seen behind,
makes it easier to see God’s moving hand
throughout the twisted threads of time,
orchestrating life like rhythms in a band.

He speaks and many sounds come into being,
each created like musical notes,
ever so clear, even the blind start seeing,
and cold hearts can hear when free of coats.

A thousand years are as long as one day,
and one day as short as a thousand years,
when life on earth given each soul to stay,
tunes to a song played for the master’s ears.

 

   Jehadonei, the Creator, spoke silent words and summoned a White Watcher named Wysenda to appear before his throne of innumerable, bright, colored lights.

   Jehadonei spoke again and a small, revolving, beautiful, blue sphere formed at the feet of Wysenda, the White Watcher.

   “This,” said Jehadonei “is Earth. At precisely the location indicated by my finger, is where I want you to plant the seed that I have in my hand. It is the seed for a special tree. Protect it and keep it from any harm or danger as it grows. The tree will become of use to me in its old age. Let no one persuade you from doing this task. At a time that I have set I will summon you again before me, for a purpose, for a special purpose, and then I will return you to your work.”

   Wysenda, the White Watcher, bowed and replied, “Master, that which you have commanded shall be carefully done.”

   The White Watcher disappeared from Jehadonei’s presence and stood on a narrow but level, straight strip of earth which sat between a series of rolling hills and numerous lakes. At precisely the point indicated by the finger of his Master, he bent down to the earth and pressed a small seed into the ground. The White Watcher then stood up straight, and waited…..and watched.

 

Chapter 3: The Shadows of Time

 

The Shadows of Time

Worrisome things of the future,
and haunting specters now past,
make present thoughts unsure,
and stir up fears that last.

Standing unseen, silently unheard,
unraveling events twisted like twine,
voicing wisdom, not saying a word,
our God controls the shadows of time.

Events that lurk in deep darkness,
just waiting for time to attack,
planned by instruments of madness,
are visible only by looking back.

He holds in his hands all eternity,
and plans for each life like mine,
with him, there is no uncertainty,
He sees through the shadows of time.

    Jerri grasped the steering wheel of his late-model station wagon, pulled his thirty- five year old body forward and then pushed his feet back against the floor to reposition himself into his previous sitting position. The many hours of sitting behind the wheel and driving had created a slight numbness in his legs. He could feel a tingling sensation as the blood returned to its normal uninterrupted flow. Jerri looked over towards his right and smiled. Cindi, his wife, was taking a nap in the mid-afternoon sun. He reached up and tilted the rear-view mirror. Their twin children, Tommi and Margi, were playing a pocket-sized video game as they huddled themselves together in the middle of the back seat.

   The music from the electronic game had become increasingly irritating since the two children had been playing it virtually nonstop from the time they had left home early that morning.

   Jerri’s first reaction was to yell at the kids, however, he paused when he thought about the fact that it would be only one more year and the kids would be in school; they were growing up fast! Jerri filtered out the noise, reminisced about the past few days and smiled as he thought about the flurry of activity created when he declared without notice, that he was taking the family with him on an out-of-town, business trip.

   Another half-hour went by and Jerri considered waking Cindi. It was time for her to take a turn at the wheel. He had been driving on a straight stretch of road for so long that the humming of the uninterrupted speed had held him in an almost hypnotic trance. Jerri had promised himself before and now repeated it again – he would never drive on a long trip throughout the afternoon when a twisting and winding road would cause him to drive into the face of a slow-setting sun. Even while wearing sunglasses and with the visor pulled down, the glare of the bright light strained his eyes and he spent most of the time driving with his eyes crinkled in a headache-producing squint.

   “Just a few more minutes,” he thought, “and I’ll pull the car over to the side of the road and get a cup of coffee from the thermos.” Besides, we all need a stretch and perhaps the kids will stop playing that noisy video game.”

   Jerri suddenly snapped out of his semi-hypnotic trance. A tall, dark figure was standing right in the middle of the road. It could have been a man, but he wasn’t sure. The figure was draped in waves of black, loose-fitting clothes, and held upright in his right hand a dark, double-edged sword. The sword eerily absorbed the afternoon sunlight and the area immediately around the figure seemed to grow rapidly darker with each fleeting moment. It was as if the apparition deliberately held out the sword and used it as a vacuum to absorb the bright sunlight.

   Jerri hammered on the car’s horn but the ghostly specter didn’t move. With only a few hundred feet remaining between him and the dark figure, Jerri swerved the car to the left side of the road. The sudden movement woke Cindi out of her slumber and she bolted upright in her seat.

   “What are you trying to do?” she yelled at Jerri.

   “That guy there!” Jerri screamed. “He’s trying to get killed!”

   “What guy where?” she screamed back.

   “That idiot there in front of us!” Jerri swung the vehicle over to the right-hand side of the road and jammed on the brakes. The black-clothed specter moved effortlessly and deliberately in the same direction that Jerri steered the vehicle.

   “I still can’t see what you are talking about!” Cindi shouted at the top of her lungs as she peered out over the dashboard and looked down the road. “Slow down before you end up killing all of us!”

   “Watch the kids!” Jerri shouted back. “I think we’ve lost the brakes!”

   The back end of the station wagon began to fishtail as Jerri desperately made one last attempt to avoid hitting the seemingly motionless figure. It was futile, and he cringed as he waited for the sound of the inevitable, deadly crunch. Jerri, hopelessly, looked through the vehicle’s windshield at the dark image he was about to hit and saw a face – a face that was not quite human. The face had a twisted, grinning snarl for a mouth, and the eyes – the eyes were just sockets of red, fiery evil!

   Jerri swung the car in a sharp left turn that made the twins scream as their seat-belts strained to hold their bodies. The car churned up clouds of dust as it left the hardened road-surface and bit into the loose-graveled shoulder. Again he pulled at the steering wheel in an attempt to gain control of the vehicle. The station-wagon suddenly started to spin in circles and left scuff marks all over the road just like a figure-skater would when spinning on ice. Jerri jerked the steering wheel towards his right as the rear- end of the station wagon skidded sideways on the loose gravel. He again swung the wheel one more time in the opposite direction, and tensed his whip-lashed body forward as the fading sounds of crunching metal rippled sharp thoughts through his semi-conscious mind; a conscious fear told him that the right rear-end of the car had smacked up against some massive, immovable object.  Billows of brown dust fluttered down like fresh falling snow and finally settled all over the vehicle like a thin, dirty blanket of fluff.

   Jerri moaned and called out, “Cindi, Cindi, are you O.K.?”

   He looked around and caught a glimpse of the object that they had hit. His vehicle was pinned up against the base of the largest, thickest tree that he had ever seen in his entire life!

Chapter 4: Slow Light

 

Slow Light

Deep in the distance our Lord stands,
amidst a stream of pure invisible light,
seen only by eyes having spiritual sight,
that he creates through his holy hands.

He watches the universe slowly unfold,
as each event comes forth in a time,
to unravel the mystery set to unwind,
in order for man his glory to behold.

Light from the sun travels ever so slow,
as viewed by God as it crosses the sky,
a white thin line on darkness it lies,
an end of which only his mind can know.

God isn’t rushed nor in any great hurry,
to complete or fulfill all of his plan,
there is established a redemption for man,
for those who believe they need not worry.

 

   Jehadonei spoke and summoned a White Watcher named Wrysta, The Watcher appeared and approached a throne veiled in a splendor of bright, innumerable, pulsating lights. He waited for the voice of his Master.

   Jehadonei spoke again and a sphere resembling the earth formed at the base of the throne near the feet of the standing White Watcher.

   “This location here,” explained Jehadonei as he pointed to a specific area on the earth, “has been prepared for an hour that has not yet come. I want you to go to this place and strike it three times with your sword. Watch over the area and allow no person to see your sword performing its work. Guard the place and let no one persuade you from doing your task. At a time already set, I will again summon you before me. Then I will return you to your previous work.”

   Wrysta disappeared from the presence of Jehadonei and stood on the shore of a long and deep, blue-colored lake. The White Watcher measured a portion of land starting from the north edge of the lake back to a point which reached one mile into the forest. Equal lengths were then measured in other directions to detail a block one mile square. He walked to the center of the square, drew his sword and struck the ground. All living creatures including the birds and insects, frightened by the sudden, shattering sound of metal striking rock, scattered in haste from the terror of the noise.

   The White Watcher again raised his sword and struck the ground a second time. All vegetation immediately withered and died. The trees, shrubs and even the grass shriveled smaller and smaller until it all turned to dust and then a breath of wind swept everything away.

   Wrysta, carefully obedient to the command of his Master, struck the ground for a third time.

   The White Watcher returned his sword to its sheath, stood up straight on guard, and waited… and watched.

 

*************************

 

    Jehadonei spoke and summoned Brytyinni, a Blue Watcher, to appear at the foot of his throne of lights.

   Brytyinni appeared, bowed and approached.

  “Some time ago,” declared Jehadonei, “I placed a White Watcher at the location that you now see in the sphere near your feet. It is soon time for my White Watcher to return to his first work assignment. I want you to go and stand guard where he has stood. Prepare yourself for battle. Senbelialis, the Prince of the Black Warriors, is now sending one of his chief warriors, Sibenatas, to provoke the White Watcher into a fight. It is not yet time for any of the White Watchers to engage in battle with the Black Warriors. I want you to fight against Sibenatas. Do not be not be afraid of him no matter
what happens. Fight with all your strength and courage and you will most certainly defeat this Black Watcher.”

   Brytyinni the Blue Watcher, bowed and replied. “Yes Master, I will do as you have commanded.”

                                                             
*************************

    Jehadonei spoke and summoned Pyrariani, a female Watcher, to appear in his presence. She immediately stood before the Throne of Lights. Pyrariani wore a seamless robe that had an infinite array of merging, purple shades. Each single strand of hair on her head had a unique purple hue that sparkled and glistened as each length and locket formed a billow of soft, silky light. She carried no sword.

   Jehadonei spoke. “Senbelialis, the Prince of the Black Watchers is on his way to your station to ask questions about certain things that are puzzling him. Tell him that you will bring him to me, since only I can give him the answers he desires.”

   Pyrariani, the Purple Watcher, returned to her station and within moments saw Sanbeliala approach her throne. Her throne was surrounded and covered by a velvet glow that radiated light from a myriad of smooth, purple stones.

   “My Warriors wish to do battle with the White Watcher who has been guarding a special tree that grows on the earth”, Senbelialis stated. “They want to control the area surrounding this special tree and use it for their own purpose. I want to know the significance of this tree and I want to know why it has been guarded by a White Watcher for so many hundreds of years. Why is it that no Blue, Red, Yellow or Green Watchers have been given the task of guarding the tree so that my Warriors can do battle with them?”

   “I will arrange for you to discuss this matter with Jehadonei,” replied Pyrariani, “since only he can answer your questions. Follow me.”

   Pyrariani led Senbelialis, the Prince of the Black Warriors, through two gates surrounded by pillars of brilliant-white, fluctuating lights. She called out a name, a name that Senbelialis could not hear.. It was the name of her Master, the Prince of all Watchers – The Prince of Light.

   The Purple Watcher watched as her Master approached through a misty wall of sparkling, dancing lights. The Prince was dressed in garments so white that even Pyrariani had to shield her eyes as he came near. Her Master spoke and told her to remove her hands from her eyes. She was then able to look towards his presence. He spoke again and gave her instructions in a voice that Senbelialis could not hear.

  Pyrariani turned around and found Senbelialis curled downward, desperately trying to shield himself from the powerful, white rays emitting from The Prince of Light.

   The Purple Watcher spoke as her Master commanded her to do, and in a sudden flash, three circular bands of white light enclosed about the mouth, arms and legs of the Prince of Darkness.

   Pyrariani spoke a second time and immediately found herself along with her captive back outside the gates and in the same place where she had first met the Prince of  Darkness.

   Pyrariani spoke again for the third time. She, together with Senbelialis who was still shackled, appeared in an enormously large room that had an opaque floor . The surface of the floor rippled like waves of water as an ocean of musical lights flowed out from the throne of Jehadonei.

   Jehadonei spoke and commanded Pyrariani to approach the foot of his throne. The Purple Watcher moved silently across the floor and as she came near the throne, her robes reflected a multitude of brilliant, piercing beams of light that pulsated in musical harmony as they radiated from four, distant, crystal-clear walls. Pyrariani approached Jehadonei‘s throne steadily but slowly. Her robes silently absorbed the music and then emitted a purple light so intensely bright that the beams pinned Senbelialis down on his knees. He was unable to move; he was a captive – Pyrariani’s prisoner.

   Jehadonei spoke again and his wordless voice formed images and thoughts in the mind of Senbelialis.

   “On the earth there is an automobile carrying a man, a woman and two children. They are approaching a special tree that I have ordered one of my White Watchers to protect and guard for many years. I have now sent a Blue Watcher to that place and I have given him permission to do battle with Sibenatas, your Warrior. Soon, I will summon the White Watcher and return him to his place of work. You, Senbelialis, may go to that place and I will allow you to work your thoughts. You may do as you please, but you are forbidden to take the lives of the man, woman and children. You are forbidden to hurt even as much as a hair on their heads. Go now from my presence.”

   In an instant Pyrariani and Senbelialis found themselves standing near the Purple Watcher’s throne. The Prince of Darkness remained bound by the three circular bands of light and had his back turned towards Pyra’s throne.

   Pyrariani called out the name of her Master – The Prince of Light. Again, they were but silent words to Senbelialis, the Prince of Darkness. The Prince of All Watchers, the Prince of Light, summoned Pyariani to come through the misty wall of musical lights. As the Purple Watcher obeyed and moved to enter the wall, the three bands of light which held and bound the Prince of Darkness, disappeared. Senbelialis then too, disappeared.

   The Prince of Light spoke and a sphere formed at the feet of Pyrariani. The Purple Watcher looked into the sphere and could see the Prince of Darkness gather his warriors, the Black Watchers, to an area near the tree which had been guarded by Wysenda, the White Watcher. Many Dark Warriors were preparing for battle.

 

Chapter 5:  The Apple of His Eye

 

The Apple of His Eye

There are a few people on earth,
faithing in God proved their worth,
now never ever will have to die,
They are the Apple of His Eye.

He holds them fondly in his care,
always helps their burdens share,
and gives them strength to get by,
They are the Apple of His Eye.

Should any form of sinister souls,
conspire together with evil goals,
against God’s chosen don’t even try,
They are the Apple of His Eye.

 

   Wysenda, the White Watcher, had carefully guarded the great, old tree throughout countless seasons. He had watched the tree grow from a young, supple sprout to a mature strong, sinewy arm held up straight with wide open hands waving a thousand, thick outstretched fingers. He watched as hundreds of people over many centuries, stood hypnotized at the base of the tree and visually inhaled its mesmerizing, dancing, green shadows. He watched as people on foot, in horse drawn buggies and some in trucks and cars of all description, stood or parked themselves underneath the shelter of the enormous, green-colored, leafy umbrella. He watched as a station wagon, carrying a man, a woman and two children, drove along the well-worn road and approached the place near where he was standing.

   The silent, solitary White Watcher watched, as he had always watched, but this time there appeared a Blue Watcher next to the great, old tree. It was Brytyinni.

   The Blue Watcher spoke. “Jehadonei has sent me here to do battle with Sibenatas, the Black Watcher. He has commanded that I protect this area and defeat the Dark Warrior who is now on his way.”

   The Blue Watcher, having said his short speech, looked around where he was standing and was filled with awe at the sight of the old tree. He heard no sound as Jehadonei called the name of the White Watcher.

   At the call of his name, Wysenda found himself immediately in the presence of Jehadonei. He stood near the throne of lights.

   Jehadonei, the Lord of Hosts, spoke inaudible words and Wysenda stiffened straight as the silent sounds flowed into his mind.

   “You have done well Wysenda! You have demonstrated obedience and shown great patience in your task. Your duty is almost done. Soon I will return you to your work. There is much to do in my new creation. The Prince of Darkness has gathered several of his warriors and is preparing them to do battle with the Blue Watcher who appeared beside you near the tree. The Dark Prince, Senbelialis, has been given permission to use his influence to control the movements of the car that now approaches the tree – my tree. Senbelialis will cause the car to swerve off the road, but he has been told not to harm the lives of the occupants. He has been ordered not to harm even a hair on their heads. Senbelialis, the Prince of Darkness, has formed a thought in his mind; an evil thought; a thought to foil the plan that I have set long, long ago. Senbelialis intends to disobey me and take the lives of the two children in the car. I want you to return to the tree and watch over the lives of the man, woman and children. Allow the car to hit the tree at precisely the spot that I have prepared in its growth for this moment in time. Allow the car to strike the tree at exactly the angle necessary for the tree to fulfill a plan that I established when I commanded you to plant its seed. When the car hits the tree, restrain it from total destruction. Do not allow the man, woman or children to suffer any harm; touch the children so that they may sleep for awhile. Senbelialis and his Warriors will believe that they have succeeded in defeating my plans, and afterwards return to their business. The people on the earth will think that the children are suffering from head concussions as a result of the accident; however, the children will be completely unhurt.

   At a time already set, but not yet come, I will call you again. You will then touch the children and awaken them. Remove all traces of memories associated with the accident. The people on earth will think the accident caused the memory loss. The Blue Watcher that I have sent to stand beside you will cry out for help when he realizes that Senbelialis has sent five hundred Black Warriors to assist Sibenatas, the Black Watcher assigned to do battle with him. I have already told the Blue Watcher that he will defeat the Black Watcher. Do not let him or any of the Black Watchers provoke you into battle. The time that I have set for the White Watchers to do battle has not yet come. The Blue Watcher must learn to trust me with absolute obedience and courage. I have prepared a great reward for you.”

   Wysenda bowed, thanked Jehadonei, and returned to his place beside the old familiar tree.

Chapter 6:   Heaven

 

Heaven

Heaven is a place where spirits dwell,
that once were tested and tried on earth,
and had the same sin when man first fell,
but given a redeemer at Jesus’ birth.

Heaven is a place where there is no night,
there is no hunger, nor thirst nor pain,
new worlds are formed faster than light,
and an end of its borders will never wane.

Heaven is a place where peace can abide,
there forever free from wicked evil power,
and only a place where saved souls reside,
when God grants life in his chosen hour.

Heaven is a place of white suns of fire,
delicately dancing against a colorful sky,
beautifully beaming and will never expire,
as each one sings songs to stars nearby.

Heaven is a place not known in man’s mind,
dreams in thought can’t tell the tongue,
no soul can taste of what God has dined,
what Heaven is like and what God has done!

 

   When Jehadonei, The Lord of Hosts, first created the Watchers, he had given each Watcher a unique, special color. The color could grow brighter and brighter and even shine as almost pure white; the intensity of the whiteness was developed through courage and trust – a trust in Jehadonei. The Watchers glowed with red, yellow, and green, blue, purple and an infinite number of singular other colors. Each group of colors had ruling Captains and Chief Captains. There were as many different assignments given to each group as there were colors.

   White Watchers were builders and supervised the workers adding extensions to Jehadonei’s creation. Both their hands were to remain free and always available for use in their building assignments. Jehadonei had given each Watcher a sword to do battle with the Black Watchers, but the White Watchers were commanded to keep their swords in a covered sheath at their side. The swords of the White Watchers were to be drawn only at Jehadonei’s express command.

   The color, strength and courage of each Watcher were all connected. Great strength and courage were found in the lighter colors. Pure white was symbolic of infinite strength and total darkness reflected a complete lack of courage.

   Each of the female Watchers glowed with a separate and uniquely distinct, purple hue. Only female Watchers held the purple color and only the female Watchers carried no sword. They were rulers with thrones and assisted the Chief Captains.

   Each Watcher had a name; a unique name; a name that only the Watcher knew; it was a special name that only the Watcher could hear when summoned by Jehadonei or The Prince of Light.

   A Watcher’s sword and his grip on the sword were as strong as his courage. Only after a Watcher lost complete courage and faith in Jehadonei could the grip on his sword be broken. Should a colored Watcher ever have his sword broken by a Dark Warrior, the Dark Warrior could absorb the colored Watcher’s light and thereby obtain courage. When a Watcher lost all light, he then became a Black Warrior.

   The Chief of the Black Watchers, Senbelialis, the Prince of Darkness, consistently tried to engage his Black Warriors into battle with the colored Watchers. His Dark Warriors wanted the colored Watchers’ light to build their own strength and courage. The Dark Warriors also had their Captains and Chief Captains. The strongest Dark Warriors were the Chief Captains.

   The Black Watchers held two swords, one in each hand. Each sword was fused to the Warrior’s forearm. The Warrior’s strength and courage were placed in the swords. A Black Warrior could only be defeated when both swords were broken. The destruction of a Black Warrior’s swords meant the annihilation of the Black Watcher. Annihilated Black Watchers were cast forever into a region that had no light; a place of absolute eternal darkness.

 

Chapter 7:   I Can’t Take it Anymore

 

I Can’t Take it Anymore

I’ve been hit too hard
and smacked all around
now I’m bent and buckled
my face’s touchin’ ground
how much more, Oh God
no one really knows
but I just feel, Lord
I can’t take any more.
Lord, I look up and see
that awful grinnin’ face
the one so full of evil
not from the human race
it’s owned by that one
who whipped me before
and I just feel, Lord
I can’t take any more.
God you know you promised
that when we’re too weak
and worn out and tired
his power would break
make him listen and go
like your word said so
‘cause I just feel, Lord
I can’t take any more.

    Brytyinni, the Blue Watcher, turned his head and saw in the distance an automobile gliding down the road. In it he saw a man, woman and two young children. Brytyinni turned his head towards the old, oak tree standing nearby and saw the WhiteWatcher reappear before him.

   “Prepare yourself for battle!” advised the White Watcher without greeting. “Behind you! Senbelialis and his Warriors!”

   Brytyinni glanced over his shoulder and saw the Prince of Darkness standing in the middle of the road. Grouped together, behind one advanced Black Warrior, was a command of five hundred fierce-looking Black Watchers. Brytyinni was stunned!  Jehadonei had said he would defeat one Dark Warrior, but not five hundred!

   Sibenatas, the Captain of the Black Warriors, suddenly and quickly moved far ahead of his companions, drew his sword and with blinding speed, struck at the Blue Watcher. Brytyinni swung his own sword in defense. Clang! A flurry of ruffled leaves flowed down as a flock of frightened birds scurried away. Brytyinni spun around from the force of the Black Warrior’s retaliation. The Blue Watcher almost fell sideways as Sibenatas’ sword struck again and again in a series of powerful, piston-like blows. The constant cheering from the other Dark Warriors increased Sibenatas’s vigor and Brytyinni, for the first time in his life, became worried. A tinge of anxiety prickled up his spine as the other Dark Warriors herded closer and formed a circle around the two battling opponents.

   “Help me defeat these enemy Warriors!” Brytyinni called out to the on-looking, silent White Watcher. “I have the strength to defeat a few of them, but not five hundred!”

   “You know Jehadonei has commanded that I should not draw my sword.”

   Wysenda replied. “Our Master has already spoken on the matter. He said you will defeat this Warrior. Fight Sibenatas the Dark Watcher with all you courage and strength as Jehadonei has commanded, and worry about the others afterward.”

   Senbelialis, the Prince of Darkness, approached the two struggling Warriors and laughed in Brytyinni s face. “Your Master has lied to you!” he snarled. “He said you would do battle with one of my Warriors, but as you now see, you will have to fight and defeat the other five hundred as well! Give up before you are totally destroyed! Give up before my Warriors break your sword and take your light! Admit that you can not trust your Master and join us. Become one of us and I will not only spare your life but I will make you a Chief Captain over many.”

   Brytyinni looked over at the White Watcher and silently pleaded… for help…for an encouraging word!

   Wysenda fixed a strong, silent gaze into Brytyinni’s fear-filled eyes and stated emphatically, “Jehadonei does not lie!”

   Senbelialis shrugged his shoulders and laughed hysterically. “You can believe whatever you want, but the facts speak for themselves. Believe in a promise that obviously has been broken, or make a decision right now to do something that will guarantee your survival. While you foolishly take time to make up your mind, I will attend to other matters – like that car over there,” he gestured, “which now approaches us. I have taken over this area for my own use and as a start, just to show my Warriors that I am in control, I will cause the vehicle to crash into the tree behind you. The White Watcher has been guarding that tree for many, many centuries, and now it’s going to get some attention! Just a little wave of my hand and the driver will mistakenly believe that the car’s brakes have failed. As a matter of fact, I think I will give the car an extra shove before it hits the tree! The people riding in it will be wiped out so fast that they will never know what happened! Let’s see how much damage I can do to the tree!”

   Brytyinni raised his sword and shouted out to Wysenda. “I need help! I need strength! What can I do to have the power of a White Watcher?”

   “Trust the Lord of Hosts.” the White Watcher replied confidently.

   Brytyinni hesitated for a moment, just a brief moment, just for an imperceptible fraction of a second, and then as he believed those five words he felt a hot, overwhelming, flooding wave of courage permeate every limb in his body. An electric- like surge of streaming strength shot through his arms and he found himself feeling as if he were living inside a powerful, compressed, coiled steel-spring.

   Brytyinni’s sword struck!

   It struck at a smirking, dark face; it struck at an evil grin; it struck at a dark object basking in the peels of laughter emitting from the other Dark Warriors; it struck down on the sword of the over-confident and unprepared Dark Watcher; it struck with such immeasurable speed that none of the Dark Warriors saw it slice through Sibenatas’ second sword after it had already cut through the first!

   Sibenatas stood standing for just a moment, and then dissolved into a pile of fine, black powder. A gentle breeze came down from the overhanging branches, formed a small, funnel-shaped whirlpool, spun around, lifted the mound of dust up from the ground and then scattered it in pepper-sized proportions all over the road.

   The group of on-looking Dark Warriors had lost their humor. They stared at Brytyinni, first in amazement and then in fear. Every particle of strength bled from their paralyzed bodies.

   An invisible river of raw cowardice flowed from five hundred fearful forms. A drumming roar of thuds beat against the ground as a thousand black swords broke and fell from as many lifeless arms. A heap of drifting, dark dust was all that remained of the defeated Black Warriors, and then another gentle wind stirred in the overhanging leaves, came down and chased away the tiny black shadows.

   Brytyinni, the Blue Watcher, the victorious Warrior, slowly gazed over at Wysenda and expected to see a face filled with astonishment. But there was no expression.

   “You could have saved yourself a lot of needless worry if you had at first, trusted our Master and believed his promise.” came the simple reply. “If you want to gain in strength and courage, you will have to learn to do that which you have been commanded to do, and do it immediately without doubting. Each Watcher gains brightness in color every time he progresses in courage and learns to trust Jehadonei without doubt. Look at yourself even now!”

   Brytyinni looked down at his covering of blue and saw the color shine much brighter than it had ever shone before!

   Senbelialis had stepped out into the middle of the road. He had preoccupied himself in toying with the oncoming car. Senbelialis grinned in amusement as he exercised control over the vehicle’s movements. He was like a powerful electromagnet playing with a tiny, metal toy. Senbelialis’ pride, as he displayed his power, flooded his mind and drowned out his thoughts on all other matters. His Black Warriors had been defeated – yet he did not know it!

   The car came closer and Senbelialis moved forward. Theatrically he twisted his delirious, mocking, hideous face and then threw back his head and took on the facial features of a snake-like creature. He wanted to provoke fear – paralyzing fear. He whipped his head back and forth as he performed a snakelike dance and laughed as the vehicle spun out of control. He watched from the middle of the road as the car fishtailed and then smashed up against the old, oak tree.

   Senbelialis, the Prince of Darkness, waited until the clouds of dust had settled and then raised his sword as he moved towards the car. He looked around expecting to see his Warriors, but they were nowhere to be found. Standing at the side of the car and next to the old tree, was a bright-blue Watcher. The Blue Watcher held a grip on his sword with both hands.

   At a point in time just before the moment of impact, Wysenda had entered the car without opening its doors and completely covered the man, woman and children with a blanket of glowing pure-white – but they were not aware of it.

   “Get from here!” ordered Brytyinni, still tingling with the currents of courage.

   “Jehadonei gave me the power to destroy Sibenatas your Warrior, just like he said he would, and I have also defeated his five hundred companions! I know who you are and I know of your strength. Nevertheless, I am prepared to do battle with you!”

   “You are a fool!” snarled the Prince of Darkness. “You are no match for me! I could wipe out a hundred thousand of your kind with the wave of my sword!”

   “Then wave your sword!” challenged Brytyinni, still encompassed in a tidal-wave of courage.” I will not let you interfere with my Master’s plans. Prepare yourself for battle!”

   The last shouting syllables had hardly left Brytyanni’s mouth when a searing bolt of white light exploded between Brytyinni and the Prince of Darkness. A Watcher streaming with intense bright light appeared out of the flash. He was dressed in the same type of garments worn by Brytyinni and held a flaming blue-white sword in his right hand. Brytyinni could see a trace, just a very small trace, of blue light pulsating in the Watcher’s clothes. It was the Wybynni, the Chief Captain of the Blue Watchers.

   Wybynni raised his flaming sword and it instantly turned white-hot as he stood between the Prince of Darkness and Brytyinni, the Blue Watcher. “The Prince of Light is aware of your actions, Senbelialis. He has commanded that you leave this place and not return. You will leave immediately or I will summon the other Chief Captains and we will bind you and take you to our Master for punishment!”

   Senbelialis cowered and writhed in anguish at the sound of the words “The Prince of Light“. He tried to look up at Wybynni but the piercing beams of white light radiating from the sword pinned him down on the ground. Suddenly, without a whisper or sound, he disappeared.

   Wybynni placed his sword back into its sheath and smiled as he walked over to Brytyinni. ”You have done well here! Come with me, there is a reward waiting for you! ”There was a snap of light as they both disappeared.

 

*************************

 

   Wysenda had silently watched all that had transpired as he protected the man, woman and children in the car. He watched as the man in the front seat shook his head and mumbled some words. “Cindi, Cindi, are you OK?”

   The White Watcher knew that his work was almost done.

Chapter 8:   Quiet Light

Quiet Light

Oh for lasting peace to find,
oh for joy and love entwined,
oh for your priceless gift to me,
a quiet spirit, happy and free.

Oh for a caressing rolling wave,
like the feeling once you gave,
to my aching troubled mind,
soft soothing words, just in time.

Torn by tense invading thoughts,
broken and severed into empty lots,
my heart struggles hard every day,
not to harden, but to mend its way.

Fears of failure soaked in doubt,
form a path through darkness about,
I hold a promise with all my might,
faith each day gives hope each night.

 

   Mardi ground his jaw teeth, one over the other. He bit down hard in silent anger, pressed the accelerator to the floor and felt his car surge ahead as it picked up speed. Mardi was almost in excess of the speed limit, and he knew it. Many times over the years he had released his frustration by taking long, lonely rides over the same stretch of road. He could see far and straight ahead, even to the point where the road ended into the horizon. Mardi knew the road well.

   Whenever perplexing troubles clouded his thoughts, he always went to the only place that ever gave him peace of mind. The portion of road that he had chosen to travel that day was hardly ever visited by anyone, not even Sunday afternoon drivers. Mardi had driven along that long stretch of road many times, and it was a very rare occasion for him to meet another vehicle.

   There was a place, a quiet place, a place of solitude, a place where his aching, troubled mind found rest and Mardi was anxious to have that feeling again.

   The road was nothing more than the abandoned remains of an old highway. It had once been the main artery into a small, nearby town, but progress and urban development had changed everything. A new expressway had been carved out of the hills on the other side of town and now the old highway was cut off from all major traffic. Only off-road vehicles deliberately came along the route and occasionally, a misdirected traveler. The road sign at the exit on the expressway read, “Use At Own Risk”, but sometimes, a spellbound, weary driver would mistake the road as a shortcut into town.

   Mardi accelerated a little more, drew in a deep breath, and then expelled it in a sad, silent sigh. He could not believe what had happened! He had scrimped, sacrificed and worked long, extra hours to save enough money for his dream. Mardi had envisioned leaving the polluted climate of a large city and planned, in his friends’ view, “early retirement”. But that was as far from the truth as the road on which he traveled was from any large city.

  Mardi’s life-long business acquaintances, and certainly all of his friends, had questioned his sanity in the matter. He was far too young, too far up the corporate ladder, too close to succeeding in his distinguished career and far too talented, in their view, to waste his life in such a non lucrative ambition. They all questioned him openly, and each envied him secretly.

   Mardi had been an orphan from a very early age and had been raised in so many foster homes that as a child he collected pictures of his temporary parents like other kids collected baseball cards. The many years of rejection had bruised his personality and he hurt less when he was alone. His solitary nature was not by choice but rather through necessity. Loneliness was painful, but less painful when he chose to be alone. Mardi felt he could not trust anyone and preferred the self-imposed emptiness of being alone. No one seemed to understand him or the way he thought. He had become frustrated trying to please everybody, and ended up satisfying no one. He had long since realized that most people judged others and measured their success in terms of material possessions. There were other things in life which were more important – at least to him.

   Cold, clear thinking crystallized his thoughts and his mind became unemotionally set like ice, as he contemplated his goal.

   He could not be persuaded to reverse what he had done. Mardi had quit his job as a medical doctor, sold everything he owned and purchased a piece of vacant land in the country. “But what a piece of land!” he thought. It was a piece of land one mile square and bordered the edge of a long, deep lake that had the richest color of blue he had ever seen. The lake was surrounded by the most luxuriant growth of green vegetation that the human mind could ever imagine. And he had pictures to prove it! A dream pulled out of his deep subconscious and mystically and magically brought into reality!

   That’s the way it should have been! But “should have been” was in the past. The present, now, was a nightmare of reality. Mardi scanned the radio channels seeking some music to help soothe his troubled mind. It wasn’t as if he was running away from life and this was the hand of Providence stopping him, he thought – or was it? He had the best intentions and he had made plans, good plans. Mardi had planned to build a home on the land, a home for orphan kids – kids like he once was.

   According to the pictures the real estate agent had shown him, there were enough large, fully grown trees on the property to cut down and build at least two dozen log cabins. Mardi had even planned to build a main lodge and operate a tourist site all year round. It would supplement his income; income he would need to support the kids.

   Mardi had planned carefully. He was confident that within a few years he would be able to provide facilities for over a hundred kids – kids who were in the humiliating position of waiting for someone to come along and say, “Hey! I care enough about you that I want you to come home and stay with me!”

   That was all that Mardi wanted to do. He knew he could setup a part-time medical practice for a couple of years and keep the project financially afloat. There were even government grants available to help get started. Finances would be tight, but it could be done.

   Mardi glanced down at the speedometer and eased back a little on the accelerator. His mind burned with hot anger as he relived the moments early that morning. He should not have trusted anyone. Not even his longtime real-estate friend. It didn’t matter that they had known each other since they were children. He should have known! He should have known better!

   Mardi had purchased the property in great haste. It had come on the market for sale quite suddenly and he had relied on his real-estate friend to handle the details. His friend had shown him several pictures of the area, but for the most part, Mardi had bought the property sight unseen. He had been anxious not to lose the deal!  Mardi smacked the palm of his hand against the steering wheel. The pictures that he had been given were not photographs of the property that he had bought! He knew he should have taken time off from his busy schedule to make sure everything went as he had planned. But he had relied on his friend – and got taken! The photographs provided to him showed a long, blue lake that was completely bordered by billows of bushy, green trees – ripples and ruffles of endless, green trees all crammed and crowded as they stretched upwards into the brilliant, blue sky.

   The images stilled burned in Mardi’s mind. Unlimited beauty! It was perfect – but it wasn’t his! The property that he had purchased was in the same area but on the far opposite side of the lake. Mardi relived the shock that he had received when his lawyer first showed him what he had actually purchased. There was a statement in the offer to sell, in very small print, stating that the attached survey was not guaranteed to be accurate and that the purchaser should obtain a new survey of the property. Mardi had signed all the documents without obtaining a new survey and confirmed that he was fully satisfied with what he had purchased. What he thought he bought was a square piece of property that had each side measuring one mile in length. What he thought, was that it contained the most magnificent growth of vegetation he had ever seen. What he actually bought was a piece of property that was the most desolate, barren, empty piece of rock-strewn ground that he could ever imagine. The sides of the property did measure exactly one mile, but he owned only 50% of what he thought he bought! Someone else owned the other half.

   Mardi’s friend had deceived him. His friend was more anxious to get the transaction completed than Mardi and instead of getting a proper detailed appraisal, he had obtained only a drive-by evaluation of the property. Mardi’s friend had received a fat commission on the deal and then simply disappeared.

   “A drive-by appraisal was right!” Mardi said out loud. “Someone must have driven along the opposite side of the lake to take that picture. My property is the only property around that does not have a blade of grass on it! How could this be? God must have cursed the ground!” He gripped the steering-wheel with both hands, shook his head and mumbled, “And I only own half”.

   Mardi had reviewed the matter with his lawyer but was advised that a full disclosure had been made by the sellers of the property and that Mardi had been fully warned about the disclaimer – it was Mardi’s close friend who had deceived him and no one else. His dream had been shattered and his money was now gone – and so was his friend. Mardi remembered standing on a giant slab of rock that was one of many huge chunks of stone which littered the property he had purchased. He remembered looking over across the long, blue lake and noticed that at the back of the area, one distinct tree towered above all the others. That was the piece of land that he had thought he was buying. It contained the old, oak tree.

   A bump in the road brought Mardi out of his self-pitying trance. He was almost at his destination when suddenly a sharp finger of fear shot through his mind. He jammed the gas pedal to the floor and felt himself pinned back in his seat as the car jumped forward. He raced along a few hundred yards and then braked into a skidding halt as a billow of brown dust followed close behind. Mardi got out of his car and ran over to the place that had always been his personal site of solitude. There at the old, oak tree was a station wagon that had smashed up against the tree. Its right rear fender was firmly wedged into a slight, unique hollow that had formed in the growth of the tree. The car’s windows were completely covered with dust and as Mardi wiped off one window he could see a man and a woman in the front and two small children in the back seat.

   The station wagon’s engine was still running. Mardi grabbed the handle on the driver’s side and pulled the door open. As he reached in and shut off the engine, he could hear a few faint words moan from the driver, and then, “Cindi? Cindi? Are you all right?”

   Cindi was unaware of Mardi’s presence as she sobbed, “The twins! The twins! Are they O.K.?”

   Jerri and Cindi suddenly heard Mardi’s voice. “I’m a doctor. Are you hurt?”

   Simultaneously two panic-stricken voices cried out, “Check the children!”

   Mardi reached back and opened the rear passenger door. He leaned inward and was amazed to find both children sitting up straight, perfectly relaxed but with their eyes closed. They looked like they were peacefully asleep – as if nothing had happened.

   “I have to go to my car and get some things.” Mardi said softly. “I’ll just be a moment.”

   When Mardi returned to the station wagon he found Jerri and Cindi leaning in through the rear side-doors and calling out the names of the children. Tommi? Margi?”

   “Don’t touch them!” Mardi shouted. “They may have hidden injuries.” He spent a few minutes examining each of the twins and finally replied. “I can’t find any injuries in either child, but they are both unconscious. They must have hit their heads somehow during the crash. Help me get them to my car. If we hurry we can get them to a hospital in about twenty minutes! There’s a small town near here.”

   Mardi’s car was typical for a person of his professional status. It was sleek, shapely, expensive and small. The car was not designed for back-seat passenger comfort.

   Cindi squeezed into the back of the car and held Margi while Tommi was placed in Jerri’s lap at the front.

   “The children will be fine.” Mardi consoled the two parents. But the color remained drawn from Jerri’s face. He was white – ghostly, deathly white. His jaw was set like stone, but unlike stone, it twitched with a nervous movement.

   “You must have missed the proper exit back on the expressway.” Mardi tried to start up a conversation. “This road is not used anymore, except for people like me – you know, Sunday afternoon drivers. What made you go off the road back there? A flat tire or something?”

   “Yeah,” Jerri drawled. “It was some thing.”

   Jerri caught himself from saying what was on his mind and then looked over at Mardi and hesitated for a moment before saying anything else. He introduced himself and his wife and then his thoughts formed words very carefully as he explained what had happened. “Well, I saw…I thought I saw…the sun was playing tricks and making shadows on the road. They kept moving even when they weren’t supposed to. I mean, my eyes were tired and I saw a dark shadow on the road. It was probably a bump, I don’t know…I thought it was, well…I thought it was a man.”

   “Sometimes,” replied Mardi, “the sun heats up spots underneath the gravel where some of the old, broken payment still remains, and I have to admit, I’ve seen a few mirages myself.”

   “Mirage.” Jerri mumbled. “Yeah, that’s it – a mirage.”

   “If you didn’t want to take a shortcut across here,” Mardi probed inquisitively, “then why did you come this route? Did you miss the signs back on the expressway?” The tone in Mardi’s voice almost suggested the two were guilty of trespassing.

   “Well, I didn’t mean to come down this road,” Jerri apologized, “and I didn’t see any signs saying that I shouldn’t.”

   “No no no.” Mardi caught himself. “What I meant was that I drive along this road every now and then and you are the first people that I have met in this area in a long time. You can drive along this old highway a dozen times a month and I bet you won’t ever find another car here. This used to be the main road into town, but like everything else, it’s been abandoned in favor of modern development. The stupid part about it….I mean I’m glad myself, is that the expressway was built way over there.” he gestured with his hand.

   “The planners and builders must have had their minds clouded in a fog.” Mardi continued. “The expressway was built through the more mountainous part of this area and totally avoids some of the most beautiful scenery you could ever imagine. Just back there, near where you crashed, is a long, beautiful, blue lake called Rocky North Lake.”

   Jerri looked back at Cindi and saw her wrapped around a very, quiet little form.

   “Rocky North Lake?” he asked, “Isn’t that where we were supposed to go?”

   “Who cares?” she sobbed. “I wish old Greenman or whatever his name was, carried his will down to the grave with him.”

   “Greenwill.” corrected Jerri.

   “Well, whoever he was! This would never have happened if he had given that useless pile of rocks to someone else. We should have sold the piece of junk for the best deal offered. We came out here, right in the middle of nowhere, just to get a look at a heap of smashed stones. And now look what’s happened! God only knows if Tommi and Margi will ever be the same again!”

   Mardi looked back at Cindi in the rearview mirror. “I’m sure they will be OK.” His comforting words did nothing but bring more tears to her already red, swollen eyes.

   Mardi tried again. ”Just hang on and we’ll be at the hospital in a few minutes. As soon as we move out of this mountain range I will be able to make a phone call to the hospital so they can expect us.”

   “We’re mighty grateful that you happened to be out this way.” Jerri said thankfully. “What made you decide to come out here today?”

   “You’re not the only ones who own a pile of rocks!” Mardi grinned. “Let me tell you a story.” He quickly described the events that had happened during the previous few months, and he finished just a moment before they pulled up in front of a small, red- bricked hospital.

   Mardi rushed through the front doors of the building and just as quickly, out came several white-frocked hospital staff – except, there was one man who wore a dark colored tunic. Jerri was so anxious to bring the twins into an examination room that he did not hear the man introduce himself as Doctor Blackwater. He didn’t even feel the tug on his sleeve as Cindi greeted the doctor.

   Cindi looked up at Doctor Blackwater and saw his outstretched hand offered in a greeting. She held out her own in response and then immediately dropped it. Cindi suddenly gasped and then shook her head – not to say no, but to clear her mind of what she saw – or what she thought she saw. It was the shape of his eyes – or rather an image in his eyes. She closed her eyes in fright and turned away.

   Cindi felt as if eternity had come and gone before she got Jerri’s attention. But it was Mardi who came to her rescue. He walked over to the area near the hospital’s waiting room where Cindi had stationed herself, and smiled. “Don’t worry Cindi. I have checked the children thoroughly myself. There are no signs of internal or external injuries. They are both still unconscious but I am confident they will pull out of it soon. All we can do now is wait, and watch, and pray.”

   “Pray!” Cindi snapped back. “If God gave a hoot about those kids this would never had happened in the first place.”

   Mardi pulled a chair over beside Jerri and said,” Tell me more about the reason you came here.”

   Jerri then told Mardi about Greenwill. He was one of the many foster parents who had raised him while he was growing up. He had been a strange man who liked to dabble in all sorts of wild, speculative ventures. None of his dreams had ever become a total reality and certainly none of his business dealings had ever made him a lot of money. As a matter of fact, it was a series of financial blunders that caused Greenwill to go broke. Jerri had been shipped and bounced from one foster home to another, until he finally resided with Greenwill. Just a few months before Jerri reached the legal age to move out and live on his own, Greenwill got involved in another high-risk venture and lost almost all of his savings. Jerri had to be transferred to one last temporary home and lost all contact with Greenwill. Jerri got into the real estate business and achieved a modest success. He tried several times to locate Greenwill but all leads to his whereabouts suggested that Greenwill did not want to be contacted. A few weeks back, he received a letter from the solicitors acting on behalf of Greenwill’s estate. Greenwill had died and left a parcel of land to Jerri.

   The solicitors had informed Jerri that they had obtained a professional evaluation of the property. The parcel of land was quite large, measuring a half mile along the waterfront and a full mile from the edge of the lake back into the woods, but it was nothing more than barren ground with little or no resale value. Pictures were provided which showed the property to be situated on the edge of a large, blue lake, but the property itself had absolutely no vegetation on it. Jerri was intrigued by the fact that the property bordered a lake and that everywhere else there was an abundance of vegetation. He was curious and wondered what made Greenwill buy the property in the first place. He was convinced that someone had conned or duped the old speculator. He decided to take some time off work and have his family come along to check out the property. After all, real estate was his business.

   Mardi lifted himself slowly out of his chair and grinned down at Jerri.” I’ll be back in a moment.” He went out to his car and came back with a file folder full of documents. He smiled as he said, “Examine these!”

   “I can’t believe it!” Jerri exclaimed incredulously. “We are both one-half owners of the most useless piece of real estate within at least a hundred miles!”

   Cindi’s eyes stared at a fixed but invisible point on the floor in front of her. She blinked rapidly a couple of times, and then finally the conversation between Jerri and Mardi began to register. It wasn’t that she was the slightest bit interested; it was just that some of the events during the past few hours started to plague her mind. She was wondering if she should tell Jerri about the doctor; about what she had seen – or thought she had seen! Finally, she decided to erase the images from her mind.

   “Jerri,” she said sadly, “there is nothing we can do here but wait. I want to leave this place as soon as possible, as soon as we can travel. Why don’t you and Mardi go back to our car and get our luggage. Maybe you could make arrangements to have the car towed to a garage and see if it can be fixed. I’ll stay here and wait for the kids to wake up, just in case they gain consciousness while you are gone. I wouldn’t want them to wake up in a strange place and find us both gone. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be OK. You don’t mind, do you Mardi?”

   “Not at all!” Mardi assured her. “We’ll be back before you know it!”

   Cindi returned her eyes to the fixed point on the floor and stared thoughtfully as Jerri squeezed her hand good-bye.

 

Chapter 9:  Provision

 

Provision

 Along this journey of life,
there is always provision made,
to soften the worldly strife,
and complete the trip he bade.

At the times when needs are due,
and there seems no mental rest,
God has already provided for you,
a plan that will work the best.

When we finish our work on earth,
and from eternity view the past,
we’ll wish we had used more mirth,
enduring trials that did not last.

 

   Wrysta, the White Watcher, stood in the middle of the grey, rocky wasteland that he had so carefully guarded for many centuries. His keen, sharp eyes had seen the series of events that had transpired on the other side of the lake. He watched the battle between Brytyinni the Blue Watcher and the Dark Warriors, the defeat of the Dark Watchers and the arrival of Wybynni, the Chief Captain of the Blue Watchers. He watched as he had always watched… and waited…. for the sound of his name.

   Jehadonei spoke silent words and Wrysta immediately appeared in his presence.

   “Take a thousand Blue Watchers back to the place that you have been guarding.” Jehadonei instructed. “Prepare the Blue Watchers for battle but do not make any arrangements for you yourself to do battle. Advise the Blue Watchers that Senbelialis, the Prince of Darkness, will command his most fierce fighting Warriors to take control of the land that you have been guarding. He now realizes that the area is a special place, a place where I intend to unfold my plans. Senbelialis is determined this time not to be defeated. He will arrive with ten thousand of his Black Warriors and outnumber your Watchers ten to one. His Warriors, every one a Chief Captain, will be disguised as ordinary fighting Watchers. When the Blue Watchers discover their true identity, they will cry out to you for help, but you must not draw your sword. Do not let them provoke you into battle. When the Blue Watchers have fought their best, I will summon you and then return you to your position as a builder. I have prepared a great reward for your patience and trust. Return now and continue to watch.”

   Wrysta thanked Jehadonei, and immediately found himself back in the field of great, grey rocks that he had so carefully guarded for many, many centuries.
        

                                        
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    Senbelialis approached Pyrariani, the Purple Watcher, and requested that she arrange an audience for him with Jehadonei. The Purple Watcher spoke the same words her Master, The Prince of Light, had previously instructed he to say, and three circular bands of white light snapped around the mouth, hands and legs of the Prince of Darkness.

   Pyrariani stretched forth her hand and held the back of Senbelialis’ neck as she led him towards the gates that would usher them into the presence of Jehadonei. Pyrariani’s clothes began to radiate innumerable colored lights, each in the form of a musical note, and then suddenly she and her captive appeared in a room filled with multiplied millions of musical lights – more than she had never seen before. Senbelialis cowered down on the floor as she released her grip on his neck and then he sled back a considerable distance from the throne of Jehadonei.

   Again, Jehadonei spoke silent words. “You wish to do battle with my Blue Watchers.” A streaming current of colored lights radiated from the throne and Senbelialis felt as if a raging river was sweeping against him, ready to carry him far away. He squirmed as the force drove him further back from Jehadonei’s throne.

   “You have told your Warriors that their companions were unfairly destroyed in the battle with my Blue Watcher. You told them that you were distracted by the vehicle coming towards the old, oak tree and that if you had not been preoccupied with those thoughts you would have given winning support to your Black Warriors. You told your Watchers that the Blue Watcher was victorious in battle only because the White Watcher who was guarding the tree, drew his sword and interfered. You have lied to them! I know your thoughts; however, you may have a thousand of your Warriors do battle with a thousand Blue Watchers. The battle must take place on the earth in an area that is not occupied by any people. There will be much destruction as the swords of all the Warriors strike the earth. The battle must taker place where there is no living creature – not even a blade of grass. You may do battle in the area guarded by my White Watcher who stands on the north side of the lake across form the old, oak tree where your Warriors were destroyed. Go now and prepare your Warriors for battle.”

   Pyrariani bowed before Jehadonei‘s throne, grabbed Senbelialis by the neck and immediately they returned to the two pillars of light. She called out a name, a name that Senbelialis could not hear. Pyrariani disappeared and then just as quickly reappeared.

   Senbelialis bent over and fell to the floor as a stream of pulsating lights suddenly started to flow from Pyrariani’s throne. The Purple Watcher grabbed the back of Senbelialis’ neck and spoke silent words. Musical notes in the form of dancing lights flowed from her mouth. The three circular rings that bound Senbelialis dissolved as she pointed to a sphere at his feet.

   “There”, she stated, “is where your Warriors may do battle with the Blue Watchers and nowhere else.” In an instant Senbelialis found himself back on the earth.

   As soon as Senbelialis left Pyrariani’s presence, he summoned a vast host of Black Warriors. He had devised a plan – a plan that would teach the Blue Watchers a lesson. It was a scheme that would increase his prestige amongst his followers and forever burn fear into the minds of the Blue Watchers. Yes! Fear of him! Fear of his power! Fear of his strength! Fear of his cunning and brilliance! He would break their courage and take their light! His Warriors would exalt him! An atomic-like explosion of pride burst in his heart and every fiber in his being shook with excited anticipation as he thought of such glory!

   The Prince of Darkness threw back his head, and in a slow, snake-like motion, twisted his body from side to side as he hissed his demonic laughter.

 

Chapter 10:  Whispering Winds

 

Whispering Winds

Many wild winds blow over the earth,
stir up passions in the heart of man,
swoon their minds, test their worth,
then return to the creator’s hand.

Each has a tale to be secretly told,
of wicked desires and foolish pride,
not having changed since days of old,
when at the time, man first died.

Man has not learned and never will,
there’s no new thought under the sun,
of all evil deeds he wants his fill,
and all his life wickedness is done.

Yet there is hope from another wind,
unlike no other and telling no tales,
a comforter free to all having sinned,
a rudder in life a gust in our sails.

 

   Mardi and Jerri left the hospital after checking on Tommi and Margi one more time. There was no visible change in their condition, but Mardi was satisfied that the twins were monitored with every possible care. As they drove away from the hospital, Jerri looked back with a helpless, pleading stare. He wanted to do something, anything, but knew he couldn’t.

   “It hurts…couldn’t hurt any more…even if they were my own flesh and blood.” Jerri spoke to himself out loud.

   Mardi, puzzled, looked over at Jerri but didn’t say a word. The two drove on in silence and soon found themselves back on the old, deserted road. Mardi knew that Jerri was anxious to return to his car and find out exactly what damage had been done. They both remained silent as the vehicle kicked up dust along the graveled road. It was Mardi who made the first attempt to strike up a conversation.

   “You sort of mentioned that the twins are not actually your children.” he ventured inquisitively. “I mean it’s none of my business, but I was just wondering.”

   “No.” Jerri replied in a low voice. “Cindi and I are unable to have children of our own so we adopted Tommi and Margi. We waited a long time for the opportunity, not because we were so choosy, but it was an awful lot of bureaucratic, red-tape to go through. The twins’ parents were killed in an automobile accident when the kids were about two years old. I’m not quite sure of the details. Soon afterward, they were made available to us. I have no idea about their background – it was never disclosed to us – probably never will be. It doesn’t matter. We really don’t want to know. It was great to get them so young. We are the only parents that they can remember. You know what I mean… we have a similar background. The strangest part of it is that the kids’ parents were in an automobile crash just like I had today… they hit a tree. No one knows why or what caused them to go off the road. The similarity of the circumstances has knocked the life out of Cindi, me too…we are both frightened that they won’t pull through. She wanted to settle down in a small town and raise the family… but now…I don’t know. I can’t believe it! The only large tree of such size for miles around… and so close to the road. I could have hit any of the others and it might not have mattered. A blind man could have seen it! I can’t believe it! I just can’t believe it!” Jerri drew in a deep breath and in a subdued, apologetic voice said, “Ah, sorry for rambling on. I know you have your share of problems.”

   “Don’t worry about it!” Mardi grinned. “Guys like us are survivors. We’ll make it! So will the twins! Consider it reunion time for a couple of orphans!”

   The trip back to Jerri’s car seemed to be going much quicker than the journey into town a few hours before. A stiff breeze had started and it increased in heavier and stronger gusts. Every few seconds the wind would snatch a few fallen leaves from the sides of the road and slap them across the car’s windshield. Swarms of other leaves dashed and darted aimlessly, and then attacked the car like a host of reckless pilots playfully zooming their small planes like kamikaze raiders. Shadows formed on the road as the sun made a hasty escape behind a shield of clouds and then slowly rolled over the edge of the earth.

   Mardi could see from the corner of his eye that Jerri was shivering as he wrung his hands.

   “Cold?” he asked.

   “No, not cold.” Jerri replied stiffly. “I guess these shadows crawling across the road are giving me the spooks. Maybe my nerves are a little on edge. I keep thinking about his…his…I mean the mirage.”

   The wind had picked up considerable strength and at times blew hard enough to gently rock the car. Trickles of rain began to splash against the windshield and then formed long, thin, finger-like streaks that crept up the glass.

   “We’re heading into a major storm!” Jerri and Mardi declared at the same time.

   A jagged flash of white lightening surgically opened the dark, hanging sky and revealed thick, black, billowing clouds racing each other towards some distant goal. Ghostlike apparitions danced in the middle of the road, paused for a moment, and then fell behind as the fleeting shadows were chased away by the headlights of the car. Mardi could sense the fear that Jerri was unable to hide. A sharp, peeling crack of thunder smacked out of the darkness and exploded inches about the roof of the car. The ear–ringing echo frightened Jerri out of his seat, and in spite of his restraining seat-belt, he bolted upright and struck his head against the roof of the vehicle. A howl suddenly screeched out of the darkness and then dissolved as a clap of thunder shouted in anger.

   Suddenly it seemed as if an invisible hand had grabbed the car and then began to twist it from side to side as if the vehicle were just a plaything in the hands of a giant child.

   Mardi fought desperately to regain control of the car. Rain poured down, first in blinding sheets of water, and then in a deluge so heavy that the windshield wipers slapping at full speed could not wipe clear a space for even a second. He released his foot off the accelerator and gently pumped the break pedal forgetting that the vehicle had an automatic break-control system. The vehicle slowly crept forward. Streaks of lightening flashed all over the sky and the heavy rain banged down on the roof of the car as if a multitude of half-crazed maniacs with hammers were trying to make music by striking empty, iron drums.

   “It’s impossible!” Mardi shouted. “We’re driving straight into the storm. It would be best for us to turn around and head back into town. We might be able to outrun it if we go back right now!”

   Jerri nodded his head in agreement as Mardi inched the vehicle to a complete stop and then carefully turned the car around to head back to town.

   Neither Mardi nor Jerri was aware of a presence behind them in the seat where Cindi once sat. It was Wysenda, the White Watcher.

   Mardi finally pulled the car up to a parking spot near the front doors of the hospital. Wysenda watched as both men got out of the car and made a dash through a slight drizzle of rain. The Whyte Watcher disappeared and immediately reappeared beside the old, oak tree. Memories flashed through his mind – centuries of memories; memories of wildlife that had made the tree their home. But it was to be no more!

   Jehadonei had given him instructions. Wysenda drew his sword and struck the base of the tree. The white flash of light and sound of thunder that followed, blended in perfectly with the effects of the raging storm. Wysenda returned his sword to its sheath and disappeared.

   No one in the hospital room noticed as a white form appeared in their presence. Wysenda looked down at the two sleeping children and glanced over at the worried, furrowed brows crinkled on their parents’ foreheads. Wysenda waited…and watched.

   Jerri reached down and held Cindi’s hand as she bent over and sobbed a pleading prayer. He placed his arm around her shoulders and tried to comfort her. Finally, exhausted from shedding a stream of tears, she allowed Jerri to lead her out to the waiting room. He described the vicious storm that would soon hit the town. Mardi had noticed that there was a motel right next-door to the hospital. They could check into the motel and take turns staying with the twins throughout the night. Someone would always be there to watch over the children.

 

Chapter 11:   Streams of Strength

 

Streams of Strength

Fearful dark forces take their toll,
subtly surrounding the body and soul,
like a river after skies have rained,
unleashing power no longer contained.

Attacking at first the weakest part,
they cowardly seek a faithless heart,
when left unchallenged with a chance,
demon spirits quickly make an advance.

Subduing all new prey they can find,
gloatingly seeking the victim’s mind,
these fallen angels need a new shell,
to house their evil sent from hell.

A spark of faith could start a storm,
of streams of strength ready to form,
having from heaven supernatural power,
prepared in time for that very hour.

Just one word from the Master’s voice,
can force surrender without a choice,
no spiritual power can last at length,
when God provides streams of strength.

 

   Cindi insisted that she would stay with the children first and then later Jerri or Mardi could come by the hospital and stay with the children for a few hours.

   Jerri and Mardi checked into the motel and booked two rooms next door to each other. Jerri, fully dressed, planked his outstretched body down on the bed and with the gentle, humming noise of the overhead fan, he was quickly lulled into a deep sleep.

   A Black Watcher appeared and stood beside the bed. He raised his sword and let it rest for a moment on Jerri’s head.

   Jerri began to dream. He dreamed that he was kneeling down in a grassy-green, sloping field and that in front of him, just near the top of a crest in the field, there was a large, light-brown, cardboard box – the kind used in moving household furniture. He dreamed that he was writing on the box. Suddenly, a large snake appeared from behind and bit him on his back. The snake stabbed its upper fangs deep into the top of his shoulder and the lower fangs buried themselves just beneath his shoulder blade. He could sense the hot, poisonous venom surge through his body and he felt completely helpless as the snake shook his body from side to side in its paralyzing grip. The writing on the box started to disappear and the words dissolved from right to left. The writing was a message, a very important message – a message that had to be sent to someone special!

   He dreamed that he strained to move – desperately, but could not. He tried to muster every ounce of strength in his mind – to force his body to move – but failed. He held a pen in his hand – if only he had some strength – he would strike the snake – but he was quickly growing weak. Time was fleeting ever so fast – and so was his strength. He tried to call out – but made no sound. And there was no one to hear his voice – everything started to grow dark… and darker and darker.

 

*************************

 

   Cindi snuggled down into a large armchair that she found in the waiting area outside the room where Tommi and Margi peacefully slept. She tried to fight off the heavy drowsiness that was sweeping over her mind. Cindi was unaware of the presence of a Black Watcher and felt nothing when the Watcher touched her forehead with the tip of his sword.

   Cindi dreamed a dream. She was being chased by a dark figure; a specter she could not make out; it was a person she had seen before – a man. The dark form held something in his hand – a pointed, sinister looking object… it was so unclear! The dark specter started to chase her. She ran through a maze of dirty, dark corridors…. The dark image was always behind her. She ran so fast that she tripped and fell but got up again and ran even faster… but he was still there… right behind her! She screamed out in fear and yelled at her legs to move faster, but they were tingling with fear and would not answer. She dreamed she bounced off a blood-stained wall and then slipped up against a filthy half-opened door. She ran down a hallway and skidded on the slimy, greasy floor. Her lungs burned and sent sharp stabs of pain across her chest…. The dark specter was still behind her. She became nauseated from the stench of the filth… and the pain. Screams of demonic laughter echoed off the walls….and then she saw a ray of light… it was ever so small… just past the next door. She sprang past the door and saw a beam of light at the top of some stairs… and then fell head over heels. She looked up and saw the dark figure. He gazed down at her and laughed. She could see his eyes… snake eyes… she had seen them before… but where? The dark specter held a long, hypodermic needle and squirted some fluid at her…into her face…into her eyes. She was blind and could not see! She tried to wipe away the stinging, searing fluid but it was so hot it burned her hand. She lost all strength as her hand fell down to her side… and then reached out…..she felt a stick lying on the floor. She was loosing her strength, her courage… if only she could strike back! She was being drained of all life… of her will to live… she wanted to hold on…but could not! It was growing dark…so dark…and darker!

 

*************************

   The Black Watcher looked down as Jerri cried out in his dream. He lifted his dark head and laughed; a laugh that could not be heard even if the moaning, writhing figure on the bed were fully awake. The Black Watcher had grown dizzy from his laughter. He caught himself from falling, and then laughed even louder. He turned slightly to one side and noticed for the first time, the presence of a bright-shining Red Watcher. The Red Watcher had seen the delirious performance. He pointed his sword towards the Black Watcher and spoke.

   “You were ordered not to hurt this man, not to harm him – not to touch a hair on his head. The dream that you have conjured is causing him much pain. He is suffering from the agonizing nightmare! I have been instructed to take you to a place of punishment because you have disobeyed the words of my Master.”

   “I have done him no harm!” the Black Watcher lied. “I am simply obeying the instructions of my Master. He is aware of the command not to hurt this man and therefore he has sent me to watch over him so that no harm would come his way. Put away your sword! There is no cause for concern! I was a Red Watcher at one time, just as you are, but the Prince of Darkness tricked me and deceived me, and broke my trust in your Master. He robbed me of my light and increased his own power. He held me captive and forced me to become one of his Warriors. I want to escape, but I have no light. Take my place and watch over this man. Allow me to go in peace.”

   The Red Watcher hesitated and thought about what the Black Warrior had just said. Many times, after fierce battles, some of his companions did not return. He knew the reason why. Senbelialis and his Warriors had destroyed their courage and robbed them of their light. He looked at the Black Watcher and hesitated when he noticed a faint trace of a black-red color still in the Warrior’s boots.

   The dark movement in a darker room was almost impossible to see. The Red Watcher’s anger shot up through his body just as quickly as the Dark Warrior’s sword struck down, but before the sword had traveled half the distance between them, the Red Watcher’s own sword struck back – once, horizontally and vertically – in one single movement. The Black Watcher sank to the floor and dissolved into a pile of dark dust – and then into nothingness. The Red Watcher had relearned a valuable lesson that he had once learned before. The Prince of the Dark Watchers and all of his Warriors were liars.

   And now he would never forget that lesson. In the future, whenever his Master gave an order, he would obey Jehadonei’s command – immediately and quickly and without questions!

   Rydanyny, the Red Watcher, moved over towards the bed, reached out with his sword and touched Jerri on the forehead. Rydanyny had completed his task and disappeared.

   Jerri continued his dream. His strength had oozed down through his body and then flowed out through his toes. Suddenly, a small spark of red light touched his eyes and immediately an electric-like current shot up through his feet, his body and then out through his arms and hands. He felt as if his body was ready to burst as streams of compressed energy flowed up and down his arms and legs. The pen in his hand had become a fiery, red-hot sword. His sword struck back over his shoulder and buried itself deep into the snake’s massive head. The snake withdrew its fangs from Jerri’s shoulder, fell backwards and then began to hiss as it gyrated on its tail. A pair of bared fangs dripped with venom as it rose to strike again, but before the first drops of poisonous fluid flowed from its mouth, Jerri twisted around and with one single blow, cut horizontally and vertically right through the head of the snake; it was like a hot knife going through black cotton-candy. The snake dissolved into a pile of dark dust and then disappeared into nothingness. Jerri felt soft, soothing waves of peace flow through mind as he fell into a deep, restful sleep.

 

*************************

 

   Cindi struggled to hold on in her dream, but the darkness was overwhelming. The Black Watcher who stood beside her closed his eyes, threw back his head and laughed as he watched her writhe in pain – and then opened his eyes. He immediately saw the form of a shinning, gold-colored Watcher standing next to Cindi.

   “Remove your sword from her forehead!” ordered the Golden Watcher. “Do it immediately or I will destroy you!” The Black Watcher looked at the Golden Watcher and hesitated. In a flash of bright light, the Golden Watcher’s sword struck down on the Dark Warrior. The Dark Watcher dissolved into a pile of dust and then into nothingness.

   The Golden Watcher touched Cindi on her forehead and she immediately fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. The Watcher then disappeared.

 

*************************

  

    Cindi felt the darkness as it drew all life from her body. Then she saw a small speck of light come towards her head – her mind; a golden spark of life touched her eyes. She felt a surge of steel-like strength permeate every fiber of her being. She touched a stick and saw it transform into a blazing yellow-hot sword. The Black Specter had made himself dizzy with his crazed laughter and did not see her lift the weapon until it was too late. He held the long syringe as if it were a sword and tried to make a stab at Cindi, but before his weapon had traveled half the distance between them, Cindi’s sword struck down and hit him, horizontally and vertically, in one single blow. The defeated dark specter dissolved and settled into a pile of fine, black dust, and then melted into nothingness. Cindi could feel a gentle, warm breeze flow through her mind and blanket her body. Happy now in her dream, she curled up on her side in the large chair and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

 

*************************

  

   Jerri woke up and looked at his watch and then peered outside. The storm seemed to have gone off in another direction. There was no sign of thunder or lightening but a slight breeze carried some refreshing moisture throughout the air. It was not yet daylight, but he felt as if he had slept all night. He decided that he would go next door to the hospital and let Cindi sleep for awhile. As he entered the waiting area he saw Cindi stand up and greet him. The two looked at each other and simultaneously exclaimed, “Have I got a dream to tell you!”

 

Chapter 12:   Musical Time

 

Musical Time

There are wicked people on earth,
who seem free of worry and care,
profane curses form their breath,
and their laughter fills the air.

Material wealth is their only god,
which is built of silver and gold,
worldly pride is a motivating prod,
blaspheming God since days of old.

They ignore Jesus the Savior of man,
and ridicule those who worship him,
satan mangles minds whenever he can,
and many hearts are corrupt within.

God is aware of each body and soul,
it is He who allows life to exist,
all the nations in part or in whole,
could never together his power resist.

God has appointed seasons and times,
and planned events for years and days,
time synchronized like musical chimes,
plays only a song to his written ways.

  

   Cindi advised Jerri that there was no change in Tommi’s and Margi’s condition. There was only one attendant on duty in the receptionist area – everyone else was on call, even if there was an emergency.

   Cindi walked over to the attendant and asked when Dr. Blackwater could be expected to make his daily visit to the hospital. The receptionist seemed puzzled and replied, “There is no Dr. Blackwater at this hospital.”

   “But he was here when we brought in the children!”

   “I was working the shift when you came in, and there was no Dr. Blackwater here.” the attendant replied carefully.

   “Well then you must have seen the man dressed in the black tunic?” Cindi replied with a puzzled frown.

   “Yes, I saw that man, but I thought he was with you and your husband.”

   “So, there is no one here named Dr. Blackwater?” Jerri persisted.

   “I’ve lived in this town all of my life and I can assure you that nobody around here has the name, Blackwater.”

   Cindi and Jerri looked at each other and without saying another word, went over to the room where Tommi and Margi were resting and looked inside. They could not see Wysenda, the White Watcher, dutifully standing guard.

   A few minutes later Mardi appeared in the doorway. “It’s a good thing the storm wore itself out last night,” he said casually. “I just heard on the radio that a tornado or a twister might have touched down somewhere in the area.”

   “How come you’re up so early?” Jerri asked.

   “I made a few inquires at the motel office and the owner told me that if we needed to rent a vehicle, we should get over to the rental agency before 5 AM because there are only two vehicles available and the rental agency is open only between 5 and 8 AM. One is a small two-door car and the other is a 4×4 pickup truck. Let’s go grab the 4×4!”

   Cindi agreed. The best plan was for the two men to rent the truck and then head out to retrieve their belongings from the station wagon.

   “Just one last question, “ Jerri asked the rental agent as Mardi placed the keys to the 4×4 pickup truck in his pocket. “Have you ever heard of a Dr. Blackwater?”

   “Nope.” the agent replied without looking up from his desk. “Nobody around here with that name. Why do you ask?”

   “I thought a Dr. Blackwater lived here, but it must be some other town.”

   “Guess so. Have yourselves a good day!”

   As they drove out of town and onto the old highway, Mardi pointed out evidence of the previous night’s storm. Branches severed from fallen trees littered the highway and along several sections of the road there were dozens of fallen trees. The 4×4 easily climbed over the debris as they traveled along the road. They continued on in silence until Mardi leaned forward over the steering wheel and exhaled in a long, low whistle.

   “Look at that!”

   “Yeah, I can see my car now.”

   “No!” Mardi exclaimed. “Look next to it!”

   “Next to it? There’s nothing next to it…I can’t believe it! The tree…the tree is gone!”

   Mardi could feel his heart pound between his ribs as they sped along the road. He pulled the pickup over to the side of the road just behind Jerri’s station wagon and they both got out. They were stunned and stood silently dumfounded! They walked around the station wagon and looked across the road and then into the woods. There was no sign of the tree anywhere. All that remained was an extremely large stump that had been splintered into pieces. Jerri bent down and examined the rear section of the station wagon. There was a large, smooth, concave dent in the fender, but there was no sign of jagged metal or broken parts. He looked up underneath the vehicle to see if there was any harm done to the frame, but there was no damage there either. The car was fine!

   “I have heard stories about things like this!” Marti exclaimed. “A twister touches down somewhere and a house or car or even an animal gets lifted up and set down somewhere else completely unhurt! Sometimes hundreds of feet away! It’s amazing! Can you imagine the amount of power that was needed to pick up a tree that size and carry it away?”

   Jerri opened the door of his station wagon, placed a key in the ignition and closed his eyes in doubtful anticipation. The engine immediately roared with life. He got back out of the vehicle and slowly looked all around one more time. “It’s gone for sure! I can’t see it anywhere! I’m going to head back so Cindi can have some fresh clothes.”

   Mardi, worried that the station wagon might have some hidden mechanical problems, followed behind Jerri for a few miles, but then stomped down on the accelerator and shot into overdrive. Jerri soon became just a dot in the distance.

   It was still early morning when Jerri rolled up in front of the hospital and then parked his car. He carried some luggage over to the motel room and then came back to greet Cindi. She left Jerri to wait with the children and said she would soon return. Mardi pulled up outside the hospital and Jerri could see him laughing as he came through the front doors. They seated themselves near a coffee vending-machine and began to discuss some business matters.

   “There are some old cottages on the far east side of Rocky North Lake.” Mardi informed Jerri. “I’ve actually never visited that section of the lake, but I do have pictures of the area. Then again, the pictures might not have been taken in that particular area. As soon as Cindi gets back I’ll ask a nurse to help me check the kids, and if there is no change, then we should go back out and look around. There is no point in having the three of us sit around and just stare at each other.”

   Cindi was not gone long. She said she wanted to stay with the kids and that it was best for Jerri and Mardi to deal with any outstanding business matters as soon as possible. She had no intention of sticking around for any length of time, if it wasn’t necessary. The kids would surely awaken any time soon – she hoped.

   A few minutes later Mardi reached into the pickup and hooked up his cell phone so that it would recharge. Reception in the area was very poor because of the deep valleys and high mountains, but he wanted to take it along anyway, just in case.

   Neither said a word as the two drove past the area where Jerri’s vehicle had crashed the day before. After driving along the twisted, winding road, Mardi mentioned that since the mountains were blocking their view of the sun, he had no idea if they were traveling east or west – or north or south for that matter.

   A post driven into the ground at an angle held a dangling sign which advertised cottages for rent. An arrow indicated that they should turn right at the next entrance.

   It was a good thing that they had the pickup truck – neither one of their vehicles would have been able to navigate through the pools of water sitting in the many potholes and certainly they would never have been able to get through all the fallen brush which blocked the narrow road. It was definitely a road best suited for a four-wheel drive, and after thirty minutes of careful navigating, they approached a driveway which led up to the front entrance of a well-built, log-cabin.

   “Our cars would never have made it!” Mardi told Jerri as they both got out. The large, log-cabin was one of many such structures situated near a half-moon crescent of beach along the lake. A faded sign on the front door indicated that at one time it was the “Office” for the resort. It certainly was superior in construction to all the other cabins. On one side of the cabin, an open-concept extension had been constructed and except for the roof, the windowless walls were covered with fly-screen. A steady, creaking sound of wood rubbing against wood echoed out over the water. Mardi curiously peaked around the corner. There, upon the porch, an old man was seated in a rocking chair and seemed not to notice the presence of his visitors. Mardi tugged at Jerri’s sleeve, pointed to his own forearm and then nodded over towards the old man. The old gentleman, with his shirtsleeves rolled back, had casually rested his forearms along the arms of the rocker and his hands hung loosely over the sculptured, curled ends. Exposed were thick, brawny arms.

   The two younger me looked at each other and coughed to break the silence. They gave their names as they introduced themselves. A bright, sparkling light flickered in the old man’s eyes. He smiled, reached out his hand in greeting. “Just call me Pappa! I don’t have many friends, certainly not around here, but that’s what they call me. You too look friendly enough!”

   Jerri felt the old man’s hand completely wrap around his own. A distant memory flashed in his mind: an image formed – an adult reached out and held the tiny hand of a child. It would have been easier, and a lot less embarrassing for his visitors, if Pappa had just held out his thumb and index finger when he shook each offered hand. “It was like shaking hands with a bear!” Mardi agreed later.

   Mardi and Jerri took turns interrupting each other as they outlined the events that had brought them there that day. The older man just smiled, and occasionally nodded his head, but never said a word.

   Finally when the two younger men had finished saying all they could tell without repeating themselves, Pappa nodded his head as if to say “wait a minute” and went inside the cabin. Moments latter he returned with a glass box which he very carefully held. It was slightly larger than a shoe box and had a glass cover that had been sealed shut. The box contained one large object that was sculptured from green and brown modeling clay and several other smaller objects of various shapes and sizes. Mardi and Jerri could see the tiny prints left in the clay by the little hands and fingers that had created the objects.

   “Let me tell you a story.” Pappa began as the two younger men settled themselves into comfortable positions on the floor near his chair. It was a heart-wrenching story.

   “When I was just a little order than you are now – you both look to be about the same age, this place was my home. The cove on this side of the lake had a lot more cabins than it does now. I was the one who built the cabins and I also built this main lodge right here…mmm… I should say, I rebuilt it. It was quite a place way back then, not that it has lost any of its beauty since then. There were some problems getting money to expand the place, but we did it over a period of time…my wife and I.” Papa’s eyes watered as he spoke, but the bright sparkle shone through the mist. “My wife and I,” he continued, “were very successful in our business. We operated this place as a tourist resort and people came to stay from all over the country. As you know, The Town of Lifeline is not too far away from here and a lot of businessmen were envious about our success. They said we were taking too much business away from the town. We had two very small children way back then.” He used his rolled-up sleeve to wipe his eyes.

   “Some businessmen formed an investment group and made an offer to buy our property, We owned… I still do, I own all the land around the lake going back on all sides for a mile into the bush, except the part on the north side, which is nothing but barren rock. The investors bought that part and tried to squeeze me out of business. They tried to build a number of luxurious lodges in that area; however, every time they started construction, a storm would come and totally destroy their work. That property area was sold and resold a number of times. One particular group of investors even tried to truck in some top-soil to see if something could be grown. It all failed – the wind would come at night and by morning the rocks would be completely bare. I guess it was because of the open exposure… because nothing ever happened to my property. I have never even lost a tree. We were constantly pressured to sell our land, but we refused. My wife was very sensitive to air pollution and so this place was great for her health.

   One of the investors from town was a doctor. Blackwater was his name. He was the one who controlled the group of investors. They called themselves “Mirage Investments”. My wife first met him at the hospital when our children were born. He wasn’t involved in the delivery….. he just seemed to be always there when she would get a medical checkup by the staff doctor. Several times Doctor Blackwater would use the opportunity to speak to her. He tried to convince her that her health would improve if she moved to a southern climate. We knew he wasn’t telling the truth because her health actually improved when we first moved here. Kathi, my wife, was afraid of Blackwater and did her best to try and avoid him.

   One evening when we came back from town, we found the main lodge up in flames. Kathi rushed to the lodge to see if she could save some of our personal effects, but the fire had already taken complete control over the building. The smoke drifted our way and made it impossible for Kathi to breathe properly. We had the kids with us, so I had to grab everyone and get back to the car so we could rush to the hospital in town.”

   Pappa caught his breath. Tiny traces of red trickles flushed through his face. He drew in a deep breath and expelled it very slowly. “I remember that night”. he continued. “I remember it very well. One of the boys hugged onto his mother as if to try and help her breathe. He didn’t see what happened. My other young son cried out when he saw a group of men approaching the side of the car. One of them was Doctor Blackwater. The boys remained in the car, but I was taken from the vehicle and dragged up the small hill over there. Blackwater had a syringe and he jabbed it in my shoulder. I was instantly paralyzed as I faced the burning building. They made we watch as our home was destroyed by fire. And my son saw it all!” Tears streamed down his cheeks as he continued. It took nearly an hour for the drug to wear off enough for me to drive my car. By that time Kathi was unconscious. We finally made it into town….to the hospital.

   While we were gone, someone set some other cabins on fire and almost everything we built was burned to the ground. Kathi never recovered from the shock and the smoke inhalation. The investors who wanted our property claimed that I could no longer support or look after my children. They were taken from me and placed in foster homes. They were twins… but not identical. I was told that no one wanted both boys so they were separated and sent to different homes. I was ordered not to try and find their whereabouts or my property would be taken from me and I would be put in jail. That was a long time ago. I have not seen the boys since. I rebuilt the main lodge here and a few cabins. I have a few visitors every now and then, but not many. There are a lot of trees around here so I cut firewood and sell it to people in town. It used to give me enough money to pay the bills – but not anymore. The investors still come by from time to time, hoping I will change my mind and sell. But where would I go and what would I do?

   When the expressway was built way over there,” he gestured with his hand, “ this place became more isolated even though it’s not far from town. I needed to advertise, but that takes money. About three years ago, my financial situation grew worse. Someone had managed to convince the local politicians that I was not paying enough in property taxes. The property had increased in value ten fold, they claimed, and so should my taxes. It was a hopeless situation. About the same time, a young couple came by and stayed for three weeks. We became good friends during that short time. They had two young children and were interested in staying here for a few months while they finished some academic studies. They had inherited a fair amount of money and said that if I ever wanted to sell the place they would love to buy it. They must have said something to someone in town because I got a visit from Blackwater early one afternoon. He threatened me and said he would have me put in jail if I sold my property to anyone else. Then later that day there was the accident….. their vehicle crashed into a large tree… “ His voice trailed off into a subdued whisper.

   “Dr. Blackwater was the first person on the scene, or so I was told. He just happened to be driving a large cargo-van and brought them …. the children…to the hospital over at the Town of Lifeline. The kids pulled through but not their parents….they should have though…. I always wondered…what really happened…. I don’t know.”

   He paused for a moment and hung his head as he spoke. “I’ve had to mortgage the property to pay the bills….. everyone in town knows my business …. the bank won’t lend me anymore money….the investors…. Blackwater…. they all know my situation … they’re just waiting… waiting… and watching.”

   Pappa drew in a deep breath, straightened his back as he sat up straight and continued. “Now all I have that’s of any value is what’s in this glass box. My kids made these figures. That one there … that was made one day when they were playing underneath an old, oak tree way over there… and this is a squirrel and that’s a chipmunk. When the lodge burned down these clay figures were sitting on a table. They didn’t burn.…just got hard with the fire… hard as stone. When I went through the rubble and found the clay figures I was amazed that they were not damaged….. it was as if….maybe
…I don’t know. I’ve rambled on long enough.”

   “I think we should drop by the police station back in town.” Mardi said ever so quietly.

   “No! No!” Pappa responded raising his voice. “That’s no use! I can’t prove a thing!

   “Well I can!” Mardi stated with confidence as he stood up straight. “Let’s go for a ride! There’s just one thing I need you to do. When we get near the town, hide down in the back seat of the pickup truck so no one can see you – just in case.”

   “That’s fine with me!”

   The three men got into the truck and headed back to The Town of Lifeline.

 

Chapter 13:  Valley of Hills

 

   Valley of Hills

I stand on the edge of a mountain,
and look distantly towards a goal,
one road is as clear as a fountain,
with no sign of a ripple or roll.

The pleasant road bathed in a sun,
of bountiful light, shinning bold,
would be the choice chosen of one,
through wisdom by experience told.

The path seems straight and smooth,
devoid of tediously, toilsome hills,
perfectly lacking a strain to smooth,
and easy for those of varying wills.

In a moment of time, I clearly see,
the distance travelled back behind,
and the road waiting in front of me,
are trips of faith, a spiritual mind.

Down in the valleys during our walk,
we can not see the mountains’ top,
the lack of light robs joy of talk,
of faith and hope that mustn’t stop.

  

   All morning Cindi had patiently waited beside Tommi and Margi. The hours slowly crept forward without arousing any sense of hunger. A nurse entered the room with a glass of water in one hand and a small paper cup in the other.

   “The doc dropped by while you were in the washroom.” she announced in a very pleasant voice. “He said two of these and you’ll be able to relax. It’s nothing strong.”

   Cindi looked up and saw a warm smile. It won her confidence. She took the tablets, placed them in her mouth and washed them down with the water as the nurse left the room. The absence of food in her stomach enabled the pills to react instantaneously. Cindi could feel a tingling sensation flow through her arms and legs as she sat down. Her fingertips became numb and then so did her hands, arms and legs . She tried to move her head but could not. She was immobilized! Paralyzed! She was totally mentally alert, but couldn’t move a finger. She screamed inside as she tried to call out for help. But there was no sound! Cindi sat in her chair and was able to do nothing but look straight ahead at the two children lying in their beds.

    Cindi knew she had been drugged – but why? The answer came walking through the door. It was Doctor Blackwater. She saw his eyes. They did not blink – just like snake-eyes!

   Blackwater placed his hand on her shoulder and then with a sinister grin, threw back his head and laughed. Cindi watched as the doctor walked over to the table which stood between the two beds. He yanked the cover off a tray and then picked up a small, glass vial, turned it upside down, inserted a long syringe, withdrew the needle when it was filled with fluid and then laughed as he squirted some into Cindi’s face. Her eyes burned but she could not blink. She watched as he made a mocking gesture towards the two silent children.

   Cindi, completely paralyzed, sat motionless like a piece of sculptured stone.

   Doctor Blackwater walked towards the twins. Helplessly, she waited…..and watched.

   Wysenda, the White Watcher also watched! But no one saw him as he stood in front of the two beds. Cindi did not see him draw his sword and touch Doctor Blackwater on his right foot; but she did see the doctor trip and fall. She watched as Blackwater tried to regain his balance and she saw him fall again. Cindi heard the doctor scream as the needle he was holding in his right hand pierced through his left arm. She watched as he writhed in pain and then silently curled up on the floor. She saw a form on the floor dissolve into a dark image and then in a flash, a bright beam of light shot through the room’s window and immediately washed away every trace of the black shadow.

   Cindi did not see or feel the White Watcher touch her head with his sword. Neither did she see the Watcher touch Margi and Tommi. A sudden surge of life burst through her body, and she jumped to her feet as she heard two voices call out, “Mommy! Mommy!”

 

*************************

   

   Mardi parked the pickup truck at the far end of the lot in front of the small building which served as a police station for the Town of Lifeline.  He reminded Pappa to stay hidden as he and Jerri got out.

   “I don’t suppose Sergeant Whitecloud is on duty, is she?” Mardi asked hopefully as he approached the officer on duty.

   “Well as a matter of fact…” The officer had not finished his words when a female officer in full uniform came out of a side-office near the front entrance.

   “I haven’t seen you in ages!” Sergeant Whitecloud called out as she hurried over to greet Mardi. “What brings you to these parts?”

    “I heard that you took a transfer here!” Mardi beamed in response. He introduced Sergeant Whitecloud to Jerri. Mardi and Jerri then told Sergeant Whitecloud a very, long story – an intriguing story.  She gave them her full attention and listen patiently.

   Sergeant Whitecloud made no reply, but occasionally nodded her head as she silently absorbed the information.

   “Well, let me see what I can do. It won’t take long, but first ask Pappa to come in.”

   “So, how long have you two known each other?” Jerri asked with a big, broad grin as the two men went out to get Pappa.

   “That’s another story.” Mardi replied with a coy smile.

 

*************************

  

   “Mommy! Mommy!” the twins called again as Cindi sprang over to hug Margi and Tommi.

   “Cindi! Cindi!” Jerri called out as he and Jerri burst into the hospital room. Mardi stood behind him and so did Pappa.

   “Tommi! Margi! Cindi!” Jerri was bursting with excitement. “I don’t know what to say! I want you to meet my brother!… and our father!”

   Cindi stood speechless as Jerri raced his words describing all the events that had happened that morning. Sergeant Whitecloud had taken his fingerprints and those of Mardi and Pappa. She then compared them to the fingerprints which were permanently embedded in the clay figures that Pappa had stored in the glass box.

   “A perfect match!”  were her words.

 

Chapter 14:    Never Forgotten

 

Never Forgotten

The Lord does not ever forget,
as we do that are on the earth,
He has us engraved in his palms,
like eternal shadows in his hands.

He has given us each a surname,
written long before we were born,
and has prepared a special path,
as we walk throughout his lands

He spoke the end at the beginning,
when the universe came into form,
and it was He, alone, who divided,
the late evening from early morn.

I know He watches the sparrow fall,
and the hairs on my head are numbered,
He hears my words of whispered prayer,
and has neither slept nor slumbered.

He is the, I am, the only eternal God,
beside him there is no one to compare,
He chastises me with his holy iron rod,
yet provides such precious loving care.

 

   Wrysta, the White Watcher, stood on the same familiar piece of ground that he had always stood on for many centuries as he guarded the barren piece of land at Rocky North Lake.  He summoned a thousand Blue Watchers and they immediately appeared and stood before him. Wrysta spoke to the Blue Watchers and gave them instructions. He told them that a vicious battle was going to take place where they were standing.

   Senbelialis had been permitted to bring a thousand of his Black Warriors to the area. He would try to seize the property for his own use. Wrysta cautioned the Blue Watchers that they were to fight with all their might and no matter what happened they were not to lose their courage.

   Wrysta had no sooner finished speaking his final words when a dark cloud appeared overhead.  A storm was coming! The Blue Watchers looked up and saw a host of Dark Warriors approaching. Clouds and clouds of Black Warriors kept descending to the ground. There seemed to be no end to their number.

   The Blue Watchers looked around and then at each other in astonishment!

   Something was wrong! Instead of a thousand there were ten thousand!

   Senbelialis, the Prince of Darkness, the Chief of the Black Warriors, appeared before his troops, gazed around at the Blue Watchers, threw back his head and then peeled out rolls of delirious, demonic laughter!

   “Puzzled, everyone?” he hissed.

   Wrysta stiffened his posture – ready to draw his sword, but did not. He knew that Jehadonei was fully aware of what was happening.

   In an instant, ten thousand Dark Warriors extended twenty thousand arms to show a mark where their swords had been fused to their hands. The mark was darker than any other part of their bodies – they were all Chief Captains serving Senbelialis, the Prince of Darkness!

   The Blue Watchers looked over at Wrysta. One of the group stepped forward and pleaded with Wrysta. “Not only are we outnumbered ten to one, but they are all Chief Captains! We don’t have a chance! We will all be destroyed!” Hundreds of other Blue Watchers called out in fear and pleaded for Wrysta to draw his sword!

   Wrysta firmly replied, “Jehadonei said no.”

   Ten thousand fierce looking Black Warriors threw back their heads and laughed hysterically! Their voices sounded like heavy thunder and the very ground on which the Blue Watchers stood, shook as if there had been a series of earthquakes, one after another!

   Wrysta stood silently still for a moment and then addressed the Blue Watchers.

   “Step forward if you have the courage to defeat these Warriors, otherwise step back and you will be returned to your stations.” The peels of laughter flowing from the Black Warriors echoed up against the dark sky and then rolled down in waves upon the Blue Watchers like a sea of icy-cold wind.

   The Dark Warriors heard a sudden, heavy thump as a thousand Blue Watchers stepped forward without hesitation. They were all united in courage, as one. At the moment when the Blue Watchers made their first step, a flash of light tore through the black sky and struck down on the rocks near where the Blue Watchers stood. Sylindanni, a Silver Watcher had arrived!

   The Silver Watcher walked over to Senbelialis, the Prince of Darkness, pointed one outstretched hand at Senbelialis and then snapped two fingers on his other hand. A Blue Watcher immediately appeared. It was Brytyanni, the Blue Watcher!

   “Remember me?” Brytyanni called out to Senbelialis. “I’m going to teach you a lesson that you won’t forget!”

   “Take a hundred of our Watchers,” Sylindanni instructed, “and place them at the rear of these dark cowards!”

   Sylindanni snapped his fingers again – eight more times.  A rainbow of colored Watchers appeared in front of him. He instructed each colored Watcher to take a hundred Blue Watchers and form eight more sections around the Black Warriors. Sylindanni would fight at the front.

   Senbelialis was furious when he saw what was happening! He approached Sylindanni with his two, drawn swords. “I’m not going to waste my time on you!” he snarled. “I want him!” He pointed to Brytyanni, The Blue Watcher.

  The battle began. A thousand and ten swords fought twenty thousand and two!

   The swords of the Blue Watchers ripped white lightening-like seams across the sky. The Blue Watchers, led by the rainbow of colored Watchers, struck at the Dark Warriors without hesitation. It sounded as if someone had suddenly struck their fingers across the steel strings of a musical instrument in one quick motion.

   Senbelialis had successfully pinned Brytyanni down to the ground.  The Prince of Darkness had crisscrossed his two swords like a pair of scissors so that the tip of his left sword held down Brytyanni’s left wrist and the tip of his right sword held down Brytyanni’s right hand.

   Senbelialis screamed,”Surrender to me and I will let you live!”

   “Never!” Brytyanni screamed back.

   “Then prepare for darkness!”

   An enormous explosion of light struck beside Senbelialis as a hundred thousand, brightly beaming Purple Watchers suddenly flashed in the darkness.

   A reverberating roll of thunder resounded as Pyrariani, the Purple Watcher, appeared beside Senbelialis and grabbed him by the neck. Then in another flash, she and her prisoner were gone –  just as fast as she had arrived!

   Senbelialis’ Chief Warriors saw the Purple Watchers appear. Two at a time, then twenty, and then thousands of black swords thundered their failure as they fell to the ground and dissolved in a yellow flash.

   The Purple Watchers held up their right hands and the Blue Watchers watched as a sea of dark dust dissolved into nothingness.

   The battle was finished just as quickly as it had started.

   Wrysta looked over and around at the company of Blue Watchers, smiled at Brytyanni and said nothing. There was another flash as all the Watchers disappeared.

 

Chapter 15:    The Golden City

 

The Golden City

Years of searching in darkness,
ages spent wandering while lost,
time gone while frozen helpless,
tallied their toll in the cost.

Seeking with eyes, mentally closed,
walking with feet, stumbling slow,
pressing on against forces opposed,
made it hard where I wanted to go.

Peering through the towering cliffs,
emerging from the depths of earth,
grasping at rocks filling the midst,
I glimpsed early morning giving birth.

Rays of hope spread like a giant hand,
beams of faith where light was empty,
made crystal thoughts, fill the land,
then at last, I saw the Golden City.

  

   Jerri’s station wagon, filled with a happy chattering, reunited family, made its way back to the place that Pappa called home. Pappa sat in the front while Cindi drove.

   Cindi had purchased two safety-seats for the twins and had them installed in the back seat. There wasn’t enough room for Jerri and Mardi to travel with Cindi and Pappa, so they dropped off the pickup at the rental agency and drove to Pappa’s home in Mardi’s car.

   Someone from the Town of Lifeline appeared to have used a plow or gravel- grader to clear the road back to Rocky North Lake. Except for an occasional tree branch littering the old highway, the road back to Pappa’s home had been repaired and restored to an almost new condition. Pappa was very thankful.

   It took only a few minutes for the family to unload the vehicles and upack their belongings. Pappa made a quick lunch and as they ate, each took a turn to share in the excited conversation. Everyone agreed that there was a lot of catching-up to do.

   Margi and Tommi explored the other rooms in the lodge as Jerri looked out the window and across the lake.

   “Wow! I would love to go for a boat ride!”

   “Yeah, me too!” Mardi piped in as he opened the front door.

   “Why not tomorrow?” Pappa suggested. “By the look of the sky we’re going to have another storm come through. See the dark clouds forming above the rocky north side there?”

   “We’ll be gone for only a few minutes,” countered Jerri.” I want to see the north side from a viewpoint on the lake. We’ll be back before you have time to miss us!”

   “I doubt that.” Pappa said quietly. He had lived in the area for almost all of his life and he knew when there was a bad storm brewing.

   “You’ll have to be quick,” Pappa added. “I give it about thirty minutes before you see the first flash of lightening. When that happens, you have to get off the water as quickly as possible.”

   Mardi and Jerri went down to the dock and got into a twelve-foot aluminum boat.

   Two yanks on the cord and the boat’s engine puffed a little smoke and then purred with life. The men waved a quick goodbye to Cindi and Pappa who stayed back in the lodge with the twins.

   The boat sped along with great ease as its powerful motor churned up deep furrows of dark-blue water in its wake. Jerri opened the throttle and the bow of the boat lifted up slightly as the craft shot forward. They were not ten minutes out on the lake when the first drops of rain splashed down on their faces.

   “What do you think?” Jerri shouted above the roar of the engine. “Should we go back?”

   “Just do a quick drive-by of the north shore and then let’s head back!” Mardi shouted back. “A little rain won’t hurt us!”

   Jerri pulled the handle on the boat’s motor towards his left a little too quickly, and the rudder sent the boat into a sharp, right turn. At the same moment, a strong wind had come down off the rolling, barren hills on the north side of the lake and suddenly chopped up the surface of the water into a multitude of crisscrossed, heavy waves. The storm that Pappa had warned about, had suddenly struck. A chilling, biting wind tore into their backs and churned the surface of the lake into a foamy, dark froth. Jerri tried to turn the boat around to go back, but with each slight turn, either left or right, a wave of water would slap over the side of the craft. They were close to being swamped.

   “Head for the nearest shore!” Mardi called out above the howl of the wind.

   It was too late! An enormous, white-tipped, dark wave came up from behind the boat, lifted it far above the surface of the lake and twisted the craft in a sideways motion. The bow of the boat shot up into the air and then the craft flipped backwards sending Jerri and Mardi flying head over heels into the water. Both men disappeared beneath the surface as a blanket of storm clouds covered the sky. Neither one was wearing a lifejacket. Jerri surfaced first and looked around for his brother. All he could see were bright stabs of white as lightening forked fingers far above him. Jerri screamed out Mardi’s name – but there was no answer. His arms flailed down on the water as he tried to stay afloat. Suddenly one hand struck something solid. It was Mardi – still under water. Jerri grabbed Mardi’s shirt and yanked him above the surface of the lake. Mardi began to cough and spit as he gasped for breath. Jerri held Mardi’s head up with one hand and tried to paddle backwards with his other arm. The storm had increased in intensity as the two men bobbed up and down between the waves.

   “It’s useless.” thought Jerri. “We won’t make it! I can’t hold on… I can’t hold… any longer…” Water flowed into his mouth and then down into his lungs as he sank below the surface. “God….help….” he voiced the words inside his mind. Jerri’s feet suddenly struck something solid. He reached around with his left hand and touched a round, wooden object. He held onto it tightly and then dragged himself up into a standing position. With his right hand he pulled upwards on Mardi’s shirt and managed to lift his brother’s head out of the water.

   The storm ripped around in a violent rage. Reverberating rolls of thunder roared overhead and hundreds of thousands of lights took turns appearing and disappearing across the sky. A flash of lightening gave him some vision. He saw for an instant that he was secured in the safety of a huge tree that was floating in the water. It was an enormous tree that easily carried the weight of Jerri and his brother.

   Mardi coughed and sputtered again. “I’m fine!” he called out. But Jerri would not let go. The tree was so huge that it blocked the onslaught of waves kicked up by the storm. The two brothers repositioned themselves and stood safely in a hollow place that had been formed in the side of the tree.

   They waited and watched as the storm died out. Almost as quickly as it started, the war of wind and water was over. A rainbow appeared in the sky and one end seemed to rest on a pile of rocks sitting on the side of the barren, north shore.

   “That must have been one mighty twister last night!” Mardi had regained his strength.

   “Yeah!” Jerri replied. “Just look at the size of the tree we are standing on! It’s got to be big the biggest I’ve ever seen in my life!” “ I wonder…I wonder if….”

   “Yeah!” Mardi grinned.” It has to be – because of its size.”

   The two brothers crawled along the surface of the massive, floating tree and found that one end of the tree had been securely lodged between two large rocks sitting on the edge of the lake. They climbed up the steep shoreline and soon rested on a giant slab of cracked rock.

   “Wow! It looks like someone has been setting off dynamite charges all over the place!” Mardi whistled. “So, this is the place we own!” he laughed. “Every piece of rock as far as I can see is smashed to pieces!” Great cracks and fissures ran indiscriminately in every direction.

   Jerri reached down and picked up a few small stones. He twisted and turned the stones in the sunlight, and then took the keys in his pocket and scrapped the side of one piece of rock. He started to laugh. And he laughed and laughed. He laughed until he heard the sound of a motorboat approaching. Jerri gave the rocks to Mardi and Mardi began to laugh!

   As soon as the sky was clear enough for him to see, Pappa headed out on the lake to find his two sons. He had taken his fastest, most powerful boat and soon saw them standing on the rocky hill on the north side of the lake. As his boat approached, he could hear the two men laugh. The two brothers went down and helped tie a rope from the bow of the boat to one large limb sticking up from the side of the giant tree. They continued to laugh as Pappa sprung from side to side as he easily climbed up the small incline to the place where they had been standing.

   “I don’t know what you’re laughing at.” Pappa grinned. “I don’t see your boat anywhere, so it must have sunk. And I see that neither of you wore a lifejacket! That’s not so funny!”

   Jerri and Mardi crawled up the side of the hill and showed Pappa the rocks that made them laugh – and Pappa began to laugh. He laughed until he bent over and had to wipe his eyes.

   “Yeah, so,” Jerri continued in laughter. “the three of us own this lake and every piece of land around the lake – going back for a mile in every direction!  Can’t wait to tell Cindi!”

   The three men got into the boat and started back to the lodge. Mardi and Jerri were still soaking wet and shivered as the wind chilled their bodies. “Put on the lifejackets” Pappa advised without looking up as he steered the boat. “It’ll keep your body heat from escaping and it’ll also block the wind.” His two sons quickly obeyed.

   It didn’t take long to return to the lodge. Cindi had set up the fireplace with some thick, dry logs and the warmth from the fire had filled the room. Jerri and Mardi changed into some dry clothes and then sat down at the table with Cindi and Pappa.

   Jerri handed Cindi several pieces of broken rock as the other two men beamed with delight. Cindi looked at the stones and smiled as Jerri handed her one other piece of rock that he had secretly held in his fist.

   “What’s this?” she laughed.

   “Solid gold!” said the three men as one.

   “Praise the Lord!” she cried out in happiness as she hugged her two children.

 

*************************

  

   The Story-Teller stood up and looked at the clock on the wall. Time seemed to have stood still. It was 3:55 PM. The children rose from their seats and clapped and cheered! He walked over to a door at the back of the church and with a very broad smile and two brawny hands,  waved goodbye to the children. “See you next Sunday at three o’clock!”

The beginning.

 

Copyright © 2012   All Rights Reserved   John A.T. Hillier  johnathillier@pm.me

 

 

*****

THE PRISONER
 
 
 THE PRISONER SAT SILENTLY STILL,
 AS HE HUDDLED DOWN ON THE FLOOR,
 HE HAD NO COAT TO FIGHT A CHILL,
 AS ICY BREEZES RATTLED THE DOOR.
 
 TRICKLES OF DARK FOUL WATER RAN,
 IN FINGERLIKE LINES DOWN A WALL,
 RODENTS ATE STALE FOOD IN A PAN,
 AND LEFT FOR HIM NOTHING AT ALL.
 
 AN HYSTERICAL SCREAM ECHOED OUT,
 AS THE SOUND OF A WHIP CUT DOWN,
 PEELS OF DEMONIC LAUGHTER ABOUT,
 RICOCHETED OFF THE WALLS AROUND.
 
 THE PRISONER’S TIME FOR TORTURE,
 WAS RAPIDLY APPROACHING SO FAST,
 THAT HE WENT AGAINST HIS NATURE,
 AS HE REPENTED OF SINS NOW PAST.
 
 THE LAST REFLECTIONS ABOUT LIFE,
 HADN’T COMPLETELY LEFT HIS MIND,
 WHEN A POWERFUL WHITE HOT KNIFE,
 MELTED BANDS THAT ONCE DID BIND.
 
 A FIGURE HAD FORMED IN THE CELL,
 A MAN ALL COVERED IN PURE WHITE,
 YET BLOOD ON HIS SIDE DID DWELL,
 AS THE PRISON FILLED WITH LIGHT.
 
 THEN HE WHO CAME TO LIFT HIM UP,
 THE PRISONER NOW SEEMED TO KNOW,
 A DRINK OF LIFE IN A GOLDEN CUP,
 CAME WITH,” YOU ARE FREE TO GO!”

Copyright © 2009
All Rights Reserved

John A. T. Hillier
johnathillier@pm.me

 

*****

 

 THE HARVEST
 
 
 THE FIELDS HAD A YELLOW MANE,
 THICK WITH MUCH GOLDEN GRAIN,
 SUMMER FLED THEN AUTUMN CAME,
 AND NOW SOON THE WINTER RAIN.
 
 AMONGST THE WHEAT WERE TARES,
 LATENTLY LIKE LIONS IN LAIRS,
 CLAIMING THE FIELD AS THEIRS,
 WHILE DROWSING WITHOUT CARES.
 
 THE REAPER STRUCK THE GROUND,
 AND WITH A SCYTHE ALL AROUND,
 SWEPT THE HARVEST IN A MOUND,
 UNTIL AUTUMN’S SUN SANK DOWN.
 
 A THRESHER THEN MADE HIS WAY,
 THROUGH THE HARVEST THAT DAY,
 WHEAT AND CHAFF HE MADE STAY,
 SEPARATED FOR HIM TO DISPLAY.
 
 WHEAT WITH FAITH AT THE CORE,
 HAD AN ETERNAL LIFE IN STORE,
 AND TARES ONCE LIVING BEFORE,
 WHEN HARVESTED LIVED NO MORE.
 

Copyright © 2009
All Rights Reserved

John A. T. Hillier
johnathillier@pm.me

 

*****

 

A STILL SILENT VOICE
 
 
 SEAS OF WIND CUT MOUNTAINS OF ROCK,
 THE EARTH QUAKED AND SPLIT IN HALF,
 TONGUES OF FIRE VOICED THEIR FLAME,
 COMFORT CAME, A STILL SILENT VOICE;
 THEN THE LORD CALLED ELIJAH’S NAME.
 
 ELIJAH WAS TIRED AND WANTED TO DIE,
 HE FEARED SOME WHO SOUGHT HIS LIFE,
 ALONE HE SAT SAYING ALONE HE STOOD,
 BUT GOD SAW THOSE WHO DID NOT FAIL;
 SEVEN THOUSAND NEVER BOWED TO BAAL.
 
 A POWERFUL DISPLAY SO CLEARLY SEEN,
 GOD GAVE TO PROVE A SUBTLE THOUGHT,
 HE CONTROLS EVERY ELEMENT ON EARTH;
 AND NOT WITH MIGHT, NOR WITH POWER,
 BUT WITH SPIRIT BATTLES ARE FOUGHT.

Reference:

KJV 1 Kings 19

Copyright © 2009
All Rights Reserved

John A. T. Hillier
johnathillier@pm.me

 

*****

 
THE CHIMES OF TIME!
 
THE ORCHESTRA SEATS,
AND A MAESTRO LEADS,
THE MUSICIANS AGREE,
TO HARMONIOUS NEEDS!
THEIR SPIRITS UNITE,
THE MELODIOUS SOUND,
WITH NO MINOR NOTES,
OFFBEAT TO BE FOUND!
HORNS MADE OF BRASS,
PIANO KEYS IN IVORY,
BOWS OF BLOWN GLASS,
SPARKLE THEIR GLORY!
TROMBONES ADD FIFTY,
EACH WITH ITS FLUTE,
AND PLACED SO NIFTY,
THEY FORM ONE SNOOT!
THE XYLOPHONE PLAYS,
A SOFT VELVET VOICE,
AND A TRUMPET TUNES,
AS DRUMS BEAT TWICE!
EIGHTY GOLDEN HARPS,
IN A HEAVENLY SIGHT,
BLEND ALL THE PARTS,
AND TIMING IS RIGHT!
MUSIC NEEDS A GUIDE,
TIME SEEKS TO CHIME,
AND BOTH MUST ABIDE,
FOR RHYTHM TO RHYME!
SOME LIVES ON EARTH,
DIE AS UNSOWN SEEDS,
LIKE UNPLAYED MUSIC,
BECAUSE NOONE READS!

 
Copyright © 2009
All Rights Reserved

John A. T. Hillier

johnathillier@pm.me

 

*****

 

THE JUDGE
 
  
A YOUNG MAN APPEARED MUCH OLDER,
THAN HIS YEARS OF TIME NOW FLED,
HIS BODY WAS COVERED WITH SCARS,
WHERE CUTS AND BRUISES HAD BLED.
 
HE LAY DOWN NEAR A SEWAGE DITCH,
IT WAS A PLACE OF CHOICE TO DIE,
AS SIX SNAKE LIKE DEMON SPIRITS,
SNEERED HIM STRAIGHT IN THE EYE.
 
SATAN HIMSELF SPOKE TO HIS FACE,
AND GRINNED AND LAUGHED IN GLEE,
THE MAN WAS TOLD DEATH WAS NEAR,
BODY AND SOUL WOULD NOW BE FREE.
 
SIXTY SINISTER SPIRITS SHRIEKED,
WHAT THEIR EVIL MASTER HAD SAID,
THEN ALL VOICED A GREAT VICTORY,
THE SOUL NOW WOULD SOON BE DEAD.
 
THE YOUNG MAN CHOKED BACK DEATH,
HIS HEART WAS FILLED WITH CRIME,
HIS MIND HAD DRAWN IN EVERY SIN,
HIS SOUL HAD HARDENED OVER TIME.
 
ANOTHER HACK, ANOTHER COUGH AND,
HE DRANK IN DEATH AND SWALLOWED,
BUT BEFORE DARK CLOSED HIS EYES,
HE SAID A NAME, A NAME HALLOWED.
 
IT WAS A NAME HE HAD SO MISUSED,
AND ABUSED SO MANY TIMES BEFORE,
BUT THIS TIME HE PRAYED IN HOPE,
CRIED IN FAITH AND SAID NO MORE.
 
A MILLION MILLENNIUM OF MOMENTS,
EXPIRED AND THEN A TRUMPET BLEW,
A TIME OF JUDGEMENT WAS ORDERED,
AS CHRIST CALLED HIS CHOSEN FEW.
 
GOD WITH THUNDER SUMMONED A MAN,
AND PUT HIM IN A JUDGEMENT HALL,
HE CALLED FOR THE BOOKS OF LIFE,
AND FOR HIS SON TO JUDGE IT ALL.
 
HE WHO DIED ON EARTH WITH SHAME,
BOWED HIS HEAD WITH BENDED KNEE,
AND SAW HIS BODY OF SIN RESTORE,
AS CHRIST WROTE DOWN A NEW NAME.
 
THE BODY WITH NEW LIFE AND SOUL,
HAD GARMENTS OF RIGHTEOUS WHITE,
AND JESUS CALLED HIM HIS FRIEND,
AS GOD’S GLORY SHONE WITH MIGHT.
 
JESUS BECKONED THE MAN TO ARISE,
AND STAND STRAIGHT WITHOUT FEAR,
HE GAVE THE MAN ETERNAL REWARDS,
AND ONE THRONE MADE READY THERE.
 
THE MAN WAS CALLED A JOINT HEIR,
TO HEAVENLY TREASURERS PREPARED,
A CROWN OF GOLD SAT ON HIS HEAD,
ALL BECAUSE OF HIS DYING PRAYER.
 
 
 
Copyright © 2009
All Rights Reserved

John A. T. Hillier

johnathillier@pm.me

 

*****

 

IDOLATRY

NOT I SAID AN OLD SELFISH SOUL,
I WOULD NEVER BOW DOWN TO GOLD,
YES I HAVE MUCH SILVER TO ROLL,
BUT IT HAS NEVER ME CONTROLLED.

I HAVE PLENTY KEPT FOR THE DAY,
WHEN I RETIRE AT EASE AND REST,
I HAVE SCRIMPED AND SAVED AWAY,
AND GROWN RICH ON THE INTEREST.

MANY GOODS I HAVE NOW ACQUIRED,
AS I WORKED HARD AND PERSPIRED,
AND WHILE WEARY AND VERY TIRED,
I PAID EVERY DUE THEN REQUIRED.

TO NONE I OWE AND NONE OWES ME,
I HAVE RICHES FROM MY OWN HAND,
MY WEALTH IS MINE FOR ETERNITY,
AS LONG AS I LIVE IN THIS LAND.

IF I HAD GIVEN TO ALL THE POOR,
AND EVERY NEEDY PERSON IN TOWN,
MY HOUSE WOULD BE AN OPEN DOOR,
FOR THE ORPHANS TO COME AROUND.

NO I HAVEN’T PARTED NOR SHARED,
WITH A PORTION OF ALL MY GOODS,
ABOUT THE OLD I’VE NEVER CARED,
NOR THE YOUNG IN NEED OF HOODS.

I WILL ENJOY MY LIFE RIGHT NOW,
AND NOT WORRY ABOUT THE OTHERS,
WHO TO IDOLS OF GOLD MIGHT BOW,
THAT YOU CALL MY VERY BROTHERS.

THE LORD LOOKED DOWN IN SORROW,
AT ONE LOST SOUL SO OFTEN TOLD,
AN OLD SOUL WOULD DIE TOMORROW,
AN OLD SOUL WHO WORSHIPED GOLD.

 

Copyright © 2009
All Rights Reserved

John A. T. Hillier

johnathillier@pm.me

 

*****

Can God Commit Suicide?

 The Mind of God

Pain is a result of cause and effect. Time is also a concept related to cause and effect and it is sometimes measured by humans while they are conscious of the movement of one part of creation with respect to another.

Can God cause himself pain? The question is not why would God cause himself pain, or how it could be done, but rather, can God cause himself pain? And how much pain could God suffer? Could he increase the degree of pain he would suffer to the point that it would become intolerable for even himself? Is God able to commit suicide and extinguish his existence?

In the beginning God was alone. God said he knew of no other entities (gods).

Therefore, before our world and universe were created, there was no cause and effect concept as we know it. The causality concept was created by God and it does not affect God himself. In the beginning there was no such concept as time; it was created by God.

The concepts of good, evil, pain and suffering were introduced by God as part of the nature of creation. The causalities we find in creation are concepts that can not be used to understand or describe the nature or personality of God. God is neither male nor female, nor is God a spirit as we understand the nature of an invisible presence; detailed or specific knowledge about God’s makeup lies outside of our understanding. However, we can appreciate the majesty of God’s mind when we view the magnificence of creation.

IMO, all of creation exists only in the mind of God and nothing exists outside the mind of God. God can think things into creation and as well, remove the (record) memory of anything created without mankind ever knowing about the beginning or end of God’s intervention in creation. God communicates with people and makes his presence known in unique and unusual ways that can not be adequately described.

When people say God is good, or that God is good all the time, the definition of good is subjective based on one’s perspective, because that which we perceive as evil can actually be something allowed or created by God, so that his will is perfectly completed.

Who can know the mind of God? The answer is, Christ. The personality of God is revealed in Christ’s personality. No one can approach God and live, so there has to be an intercessor – which is Christ. God most certainly understood the concept of pain and suffering when he created mankind; however, Christ was the one who took on human nature and suffered, felt pain, rejection, loneliness, hatred without cause, betrayal and death.

Pain is a result of cause and effect which stems and flows from a perfect creation, to a corrupted creation filled with imperfect, freewill decisions.

And that’s my sermon for today!

johnathillier@pm.me

*****

THE CHESS GAME

 

THE GAME ROOM WAS CROWDED AND READY,
AS PLAYING PIECES WERE PUT IN PLACE,
TENSION WAS HANGING THICK AND HEAVY,
AS TWO CONTESTANTS SAT FACE TO FACE.

ONE OLD MAN, SITTING SILENTLY NEAR,
WAS WRITING AN EXTREMELY LONG NOTE,
SUDDENLY HE STOOD AND LEFT HIS CHAIR,
AND IN HIS HURRY, HE FORGOT HIS COAT!

THE GAME COMMENCED WITH RAPID PLAYS,
AND MANY PIECES WERE TAKEN AND LOST,
IT WOULD NOT TAKE A GREAT MANY DAYS,
FOR ERRORS TO SHOW THEIR FUTURE COST.

TIME DRAGGED ON AND THE MOVES SLOWED,
THE TWO OPPONENTS WERE GROWING WEARY,
TENSE THOUGHTS ON THEIR FACES SHOWED,
AND RED, WORRIED EYES WATERED BLEARY.

THE LONG HOURS HAD FATIGUED THE FOES,
AND THEIR TIME NOW WAS ALL BUT SPENT,
THE CHESS GAME WAS COMING TO A CLOSE,
AS THE TWO PLAYERS’ NECKS WERE BENT.

A SHUFFLE, AND IN WALKED THE OLD MAN,
WHO HAD QUICKLY LEFT THE ROOM BEFORE,
A GOLDEN TROPHY WAS HELD IN ONE HAND,
AND WITH THE OTHER HE CLOSED THE DOOR.

THE OLD MAN QUIETLY WENT TO HIS CHAIR,
AS ONE PLAYER MADE A FINAL LAST MOVE,
TROPHY AND NOTE HE PLACED THEM THERE,
WITH ONE NAME ETCHED IN GOLDEN GROVE.

A CROWD CLAPPED PRAISE TO THE WINNER,
AS HE STOOD UP STRAIGHT TO TAKE A BOW,
BOTH EYES SPARKLED IN JOYFUL GLIMMER,
HIS NAME ON A TROPHY HE COULD SEE NOW!

THEN HE SAW NOTES ON PAPER TRANSCRIBED,
AND READ WHAT THE OLD MAN HAD WRITTEN,
EVERY SINGLE MOVE HAD BEEN DESCRIBED,
THE START AND FINISH AND WHO WOULD WIN!

OUR LIFE IS LIKE A COMPLEX CHESS GAME,
WITH EVERY MOVE AND THOUGHT REPORTED,
AN END OF IT WILL BE EXACTLY THE SAME,
AS GOD’S BOOK OF LIFE FIRST RECORDED.

Copyright © 2009
All Rights Reserved

John A. T. Hillier  johnathillier@pm.me