Death Lingers in the Morning Air--3

    They surrounded her like a flock of vultures about to descend.  Their hard eyes seemed to pierce right through her soul.  At least the Master was not here.  For that she was thankful.  He, even more than the others, had evil surrounding him.  She had never before latched a word onto what she felt when near them.  Now that she had it sent tremors down her spine.

    The one Teacher had immediately dragged her through the village until they reached the prison.  She sat in the middle of a cell on a stool that threatened to break any second.  They had asked her question after question concerning where and when she had found it. 

    “The Master is here.”  The Teachers turned as one to bow to the man entering the cell.

    His cloak billowed around him as he entered.  “I would like to talk to her alone.”

    The Teachers bowed again then left.

   Without hesitation, the Master threw back his hood revealing a strong, broad face.  His hair and beard were both black and neatly trimmed.  His eyes were dark as well, yet they carried a hint of gentleness.

    Never before had he revealed his face when Cassie was present.  She rather liked it. 

    He smiled at her.  All her fears washed away.  How had she ever thought of this man as evil? 

    “My child, what have you done?”  His tone was not condescending or even sorrowful.  It was filled with gentleness.  “Tell me how you found this book.”

    Eager to please Cassie hurriedly poured out the story trying to make her innocence clear.  She did, however, skirted around the talk she had with mother feeling ashamed of what she had said.

    As she talked he watched her quietly, nodding every now and then.  When she finished he smiled again.  “Never fear.  You have done no wrong.  Anyone could have been charmed by the words of that book, pack of lies that they are.  They are well constructed and are mixed with just enough truth to make them sound real.”

    The relief at hearing those words brought a huge sigh out of her. 

    “Since you have found the book, I think it right that you have the honor of getting rid of it.  Tonight we will have meeting in the Penance Field.  Your story on how you found it and your quick realization of how deceiving it was will be told.  Then you, yourself, will put the book in the fire.  Perhaps this incident will even move your living quarters closer to the meeting house.”

    Amazement poured through her.  The blanket of shame that she and her mother carried would be removed.  People would honor them.  Burning that book of lies would be a pleasure.  As her eyes landed on it the story she had read this morning rushed through her head.  A tinge of sadness filled her.  If only the god they worshiped was like the one described in the book.  If only there really was a man named Jesus who had died for sins. 

    “I wish that there really had been a man named Jesus.” 

    The second she spoke that name the man shuddered and barked, “Don’t you ever mention that name again!”

    She jerked in shock and fell off the stool.  His face had twisted from the kind, loving look to a look of hate and anger.  He looked evil.  He looked bigger than before.  And when she looked into his eyes . . .  It was like looking to into deep pools of death. 

    She blinked once and he was gone.  The Bible was gone as well.  She began to shake.  An unmistakable darkness had poured into her soul.

v    

    It was time.  The crowd had gathered.  The fire was dancing wildly.  She slowly walked forwards, her eyes on the ground.  The Master walked in front of her parting the crowd of people.  Her breathing became ragged as she approached the fire.  The Master turned and faced the people and began to tell them about the finding of the book. 

    Cassie forcefully shut his voice out of her mind.  Her eyes glued themselves to a patch of grass on the otherwise dirt packed ground.

    “And now, to show her true devotion, she herself will cast this book into the fire!”

    She jerked to attention and accepted the book and then slowly turned to face the fire.  The flames began to leap up higher and higher.  But they were no longer flames.  They were faces with black holes for eyes.  They writhed and screamed for her to throw the book to them as they reached out their hands towards her.  Their whispers and groans filled her ears as they pleaded to be fed. 

    “No!” she lept back.  The flames followed her screaming for the book. 

    The Master appeared beside her, except it was no longer him that was inside that robe.  The black cloak was covering up another person.  Another thing.  It hissed, “Put it in.”  Red eyes glowed beneath the hood.   

    Terror swallowed all reason within her.  She screamed and ran.  An angry yell rose up from the Teachers.  “Catch her!”

    Yet their yell was only a whisper compared to the shrieks of the flames whose voices carried deep into the woods.  Her heart beat wildly.  She didn’t feel the branches and thorns that tore at her skin.  She was no longer Cassie.  She was someone else.  An evil someone else. 

    Screech after screech tour from her throat.  Whatever had a grip on her was going to force her to run until she no longer had strength in her legs. 

    “Jesus!”  Cassie collapsed, weak and shivering, on the ground.  The word had torn something out of her body.  “Oh, Jesus, help me.  Save me.”  A gentle wind whispered through the trees and caressed her cheeks.  The terror was gone.  Only peace remained.  The same peace that had been on Mark’s face right before he died.  Cassie lay limp on the ground with relief.  Whatever he had she now had as well. 

    “Oh thank you!” Joy filled her heart.  She clasped the Bible tightly between her hands.  “Oh thank you, thank you.”  Her head lowered until it touched her fingertips. 

    “There she is!”

    As if in a fog figures appeared.  Hands yanked her to her feet.  The Bible dropped to the ground.  Yet, the joy did not leave her.  She knew death awaited her, but she was ready.

    The Master stood there, waiting, trembling in anger.  “Burn her!”

    A single cry rose up from the crowd.  Her mother.  Several of the women gathered around Helen trying to comfort her.  For a moment, sorrow pierced Cassie’s heart.  She would not be able to tell her mother about the joy she had found.

    Rough ropes secured her hands behind her back.  More wood was thrown into the fire.

    At a nod from the Master two Teachers threw Cassie into the fire.

    Pain exploded through her body.  Above her she could see flames moving about in a victory dance.  I’m ready, Jesus.  The mere acceptance of her fate brought relief.

    “My child.”

    Someone was with her in the fire.  Tender hands pulled Cassie to her feet.  The ropes fell from her hands.  The fire no longer burned her skin.  The coals no longer felt like branding irons. 

    A man looked at her with gentle eyes.  “I’m proud of you Cassie.” 

    Tears welled up in her eyes.  Never had she felt such love, such peace. 

    “Go to the hills.  There you will find peace.”  He placed something in her hands:  the Bible she had dropped in the woods.

    Cassie blinked and he was gone.  She walked out of the fire, tightly clutching the book, and faced the crowd.  They stared at her, mouths open, eyes wide.  The Teachers and the Master stood frozen.  Deep inside she knew they would not try and stop her.  She left.

v    

   Never before would she have guessed that there were hills beyond the woods.  Excitement coursed through her veins as she paused at the edge of the forest.  The air felt fresh and alive.  The blue sky had never looked so blue and clear.  The grass!  She gasped and threw herself down on the living carpet.  It was green and soft unlike the brown rigid grass that grew around her old home.  She sprang to her feet and dashed towards the hills that rose like gentle waves.

    The next hour was spent cresting the first few rises.  Every now and then she would pause and look back upon the forest where she had come, awed by how dark and dangerous they looked.  Flowers of every color surrounded her defying the dimness of the woods.  She placed a few in her hair and continued her upward climb.

    “Hi!”

    Cassie whirled around.  A blond headed girl stood there, her blue eyes twinkling.

    The girl tucked a few flowers into the braid that hung down her back.  “What’s your name?  I don’t think I have met you.”

    A feeling of oneness rushed over Cassie and she moved closer gathering more flowers.  “I’m Cassie.”

    “I’m Amanda.  Where are you-“ her eyes came to rest on the book Cassie carried.  “Y-you are from the woods!” her eyes lit up and she grabbed Cassie’s hands and danced a circle around her.  “How wonderful!  Come, follow me!  I will take you to other believers!  They will be so happy to see another has escaped!”  Without another word she bounded away up the slope pulling Cassie behind her.

    When they crested the top, Cassie could see a small village below.  Amanda tugged on her hand and they hurried down towards it. 

    “I can’t wait for you to meet my mother!” they had almost reached the village.

    Suddenly nervous, Cassie pulled back.  “Why don’t I come in a moment…”

    Amanda smiled a knowing smile and with a soft voice replied, “Certainly.”  She skipped on ahead leaving Cassie standing alone in the folds of the wind. 

    “Is this it?”  Cassie took a step forwards.  “Is this where I am supposed to be?”  The words were barely more than whisper.

    “Yes, it is.”

    A man stood near her.  The man from the fire.  “It is your temporary home, my child, until you go to your true home.”  He gently pushed her forwards.

    Cassie threw back her shoulders and walked towards the village.  I’m home.

    The End

Death Lingers in the Morning Air--2

      Torches bobbed up and down, casting a bit of light into the darkness, as the villagers slowly made their way to the Penance Field which lay on the outskirts of the town.  Cassie walked solemnly next to her mother, head lowered.  Her bare feet slowly moved to a silent beat that the whole crowd swayed to.  As was the custom, both she and her mother were attired in a black gowns and white sashes. 

    The whole walk to the field was very solemn.  The men with torches placed themselves in a wide ring around a bonfire.  The crowd came up behind them.  All was silent except for the shuffling of the feet of children who didn't know better.  Then a lone voice rang out and then was joined by another and then another.  The Teachers were coming.  The villagers parted like water to let them through.  They went and stood in a group in front of the fire.  Finally, one man lifted his head towards the sky and raised his arms.  With a loud booming voice he prayed in the holy language only the Teachers and Master knew.  After he finished another teacher called out, “Bring forth the offender!”

    Three village men dragged a bound Vilen forward.  Behind them a man approached cloaked in a black cape and hood.  The Master.  He moved slowly, as if in a trance, towards Vilen.  The crowd pressed forwards.  A hand touched Cassie’s shoulder, she whirled.  Mark stood there, anger still plainly written on his face.  She gripped his wrist, trying to comfort him.  He looked at her then began to walk towards the edge of the crowd.  Her fingers stilled locked on his arm, she stumbled after him. 

    Beside one of the torch bearers he stopped.  The muscles in his cheek tightened as he watched the scene unfolding before them.  He suddenly looked much older than his fourteen years.

    “Do you, Vilen, refute your blasphemy?” the firm voice rung through the clearing.

    Vilen raised his head weakly.  The light revealed a bruised and bloody face.  Cassie’s fingers dug into Mark’s wrist.  He had been beaten.  He opened his mouth and the crowd strained to hear his faint words.  “Never.  I will never do so.”  His voice strengthened.  “You are wrong!  Someday the truth will be revealed!” 

    “Then our steps are clear.”  The Teachers bowed to the Master and stepped away from Vilen.  From his robes the Master pulled out a long knife with a black blade.  Mark jerked and surged forwards. 

    “No!” Cassie tried to pull him back into the safety of the crowd.  He shook her lose sending her to the cold ground.

    Her cry drew everyone’s eyes.  “What do you wish, boy?”  The Master’s voice, a deep baritone, was filled with authority. 

    Mark bravely looked into the shrouded face.  “What he says is the truth!  You are-“  A teacher lept forwards and knocked him to the ground cutting off his words. 

    “Refute what you said boy, or you will die as well!” the Master stepped towards him his fingers tightening around the knife.  No one had to see his face to be able to tell he was angry.

    Defiance filled Mark’s voice.  “Never!”

   The Master nodded at one of the Teachers.  Mark was dragged over beside Vilen and was quickly bound.     Cassie lay limply on the ground watching the preceding with unbelieving eyes.  “No Mark!  Don’t!” her voice cracked in fear.  Rough hands dragged her back into the crowd.  “No!” she screamed struggling violently. 

    Her mother’s face appeared in her view.  “Shush child!” she shook her firmly. 

   With tears streaming down her cheeks Cassie stilled her struggles and looked back out into the clearing.  Mark was looking at her with peaceful eyes.  A small smile tinged the corner of his mouth then disappeared as he and Vilen were shoved onto their backs.  The Master moved to stand over Vilen.  He raised the knife, its black tip reflecting the fire’s dancing flames.  “For your crime, you will die!”  He brought the knife down.  Cassie buried her face in her mother’s shoulder.  Around her sobs and groans rose.  Cassie convulsed at the sounds.  Mark would be next.  Her whole being screamed for her not to look but she once again forced her eyes to the clearing.  Vilen lay limp, a bloody spot on his chest.  Blood dripped from the knife onto Mark’s body right before it plunged downwards.  Helen clamped her hand over Cassie’s eyes and yanked her close, shuddering.  Cassie heard Mark groan, then all went still. 

    “May this be a lesson to you all!  Defiance to the truth will not be taken lightly!”  Then in a lower voice, the Master said, “Burn the bodies.”

    That was more than Cassie could take, her legs buckled.  Burning a body was the greatest disrespect that could be done to it.  They had died bravely.  The least they could do was bury them. 

    The crowd was beginning to move.  Cassie weakly raised her head as her mother tried to pull her to her feet. “Come on, Cassie.”  Sadness filled her face.  Cassie forced her feet to move as they made their way back to the village.

v    

     The next few days were filled with misery.  Cassie walked around as if dead.  Everything was wrapped in a blanket of sadness.  At nights she cried.  During the day she cried.  Mark was gone, killed.  Nothing could bring him back. 

    Except for chores, Cassie hid out in her room.  Everyone knew she had been good friends with Mark, and they would either look at her with pity or suspicion. 

    From her loft upstairs, Cassie could see the people heading to the meeting house for a lesson from one of the Teachers.  She wrapped her arms stubbornly around her knees.  She wasn't going.  Nothing was going to budge her from this room.

    “Cassie,” her mother’s head popped up over the ladder.  Her eyes were red rimmed like Cassie’s.  “I’m not going to try and make you come.  I know it would be too hard one you.” 

     Love for her mother almost split Cassie’s heart.  “Thanks.”

   Helen smiled then disappeared.  A few moments later the sound of the cottage door closing reached Cassie’s ears.  She leaned back and watched her mother’s form slowly make its way down the path. 

    As Cassie gazed dejectedly around her room, wishing for something to take away her sorrow her eyes lighted upon the rickety bureau that held her clothes.  The book!  Cassie lept to her feet.  She had forgotten all about it during the last few days.  Perhaps it could push away her sadness.

    She dug it out from beneath her dress and went back over to her spot by the window.  Its cover was worn and old.  Unlike the books at school there was no title.  She flipped it open.  The first few paragraphs were a list of names.  Slightly disappointed her eyes skipped down further on the page.  “The birth of Jesus?”  Where had she heard that name, she knew she had.  She continued reading and found herself drawn into the story.  Her heart lept when he called his first disciple.  She cried out in anger when Judas betrayed him.  And when at last he was crucified, tears streamed down her cheeks.  But when her eyes lighted upon the part where he rose again her tears turned joyful. 

    Cassie put the book down and wiped her eyes.  No book had ever pulled her so deep into its story. 

    “I’m home!” 

    Cassie scrambled down the ladder and into the arms of her mother.  “Mother, I read the most wonderful story while you were gone.” 

    Helen smiled at her, joyful that the sadness that had touched her eyes before was gone.  “What did you read?”

    Laughing, she opened it up, “You know what, I didn't look to see what the title was.  Ah, here it is.  It is called the Bible!”

    Her mother’s face became a mask of fear.  Through stiff lips she asked, “What did you say the name was?”

    “The Bible.”

    “Where did you find it?” her voice was filled with panic.

    “In the woods.”

    “Oh, child, it is just a pack of lies, and if the Teachers find out it is here . . .” she buried her face in her hands and shuddered. 

    Cassie stood there stunned.  What was so awful about this book?  What she read of it had been full of excitement, and in some ways, comforting.  “It’s just a book.  What’s so bad about it?”

    “Cassie, many years ago, before they switched completely to the holy language, they told us some of the same things that come from that book.  However, that book twists everything into lies.  You can’t believe any of it.” 

    “So, the God that the Jesus in the book talks about is the same God we worship?”

    Her mother nodded.

   “But he seems so different from what the Teachers say.  “And-“ exited she flipped the book open, “Somewhere in here it says Jesus and God are one.  So that means-“

    “Stop!”

    Cassie jerked.  Her mother’s tone was like a slap in the face. 

    “You will never speak of this book ever again.  And you will either burn it, or return it from where it came from!  Understand?”

    Cassie suddenly felt sick.  “Vilen believed what this book said, didn’t he?  That’s why you are so afraid.”

    Tears were streaming down Helen’s face.  “Yes, that is why.”

    “That is what Mark died for.”  It was all too much for Cassie.  Her friend had died for a pack of lies, nothing more.  She shook her head.  It couldn’t be true.  Mark was smarter than that.  He had never put stock in books or stories.  Why had he believed in this one so much?

     Words popped into her mind, unable to suppress them they lept out of her mouth, “Are the Teachers-is the Master lying to us?  Could this be true and what they are saying not?”

    “Don’t say such things!  I told you, it is all a pack of lies!”

    “I would rather believe a pack of lies then live in a community that is a living death!  Father died here.  Mark died here.  There is an evil in the place.  You know there is!”  The words poured out in a torrent.  Clutching the book Cassie darted towards the doorway.  Slamming into a body, she fell back hard slamming into the table.  The room spun in circles as Cassie tried to get to her feet. 

    “Are you alright my child?”

    Her stomach twisted violently.  In front of her stood a Teacher.

   His eyes narrowed as he spotted the black book on the floor.  He picked it up and flipped it open the pages rustling. 

    Cassie’s heart hammered.  If he realized what it was . . .

    The look in his eyes told everything.  He knew exactly what it was.  With a tongue as smooth as honey he reached out a hand and took her by the shoulder.  “I’m sure the Master would love to know why you have this book of treason in your possession.”  

Death Lingers in the Morning Air--1

    She had to hurry.  Time was short.  Frantic hands scooped lose dirt into the hole hiding the metal box from view.  What it held could change everything.  It could not fall into the wrong hands. 

    She stood to her feet and gazed at the silent woods about her.  Someday she would return and reclaim it.  A tear trickled down her cheek.  She hoped it would be soon.

v    

    “It looks old.”  Cassie braced her knee against the ground as she pulled the metal container from the ground spilling dirt onto her clothes. 

    “It is old, obviously,” Mark fixed her with a glare then returned his gaze to the box.  “I wonder who put it here . . .”

    She shrugged her thin shoulders and picked at the rusty latch.  It resisted and then broke into pieces.  With care she lifted the lid.  It creaked open revealing a black leather bound book. 

    “Ah, it’s just a book.” Mark stood to his feet and kicked at the ground sending a rock skittering into the bushes.  “I was hoping for something exciting.”

    Cassie rolled her eyes.  There was a good reason why Mark was not one of the best students at school.  He didn’t appreciate books as he should. 

    Mark looked up at the sun, “We need to get back.”

    Sighing, Cassie placed the book in a leather satchel that she carried around when looking for herbs as she had been doing before they had stumbled upon the partly buried box. 

    They ran through the dim forest until they reached a small village.  Huts clustered around a center building used for meetings. Already a steady stream of people was making their way into the building with grim silence.  Mark and Cassie looked at each other.  Something had happened.  Mark took the lead as the shoved their way through the crowd to one of the side doors.  They ducked inside and went and stood along the wall the next to the other village children. 

    “What’s going on?” Cassie hissed to Marta, a thin girl with brown greasy hair and freckles. 

    She blinked back tears, “Vilen defied the Master.”  Those simple words said it all.  They were about to witness the wrath of the leaders.  They would either execute Vilen or brutalize him.  Cassie hoped for the latter.  Vilen was a favorite among the children and his death would be a blow. 

    “People of the village!” a man dressed in a white robe with a black sash, the uniform of a teacher, stood up and raised his hands. “Today we have had a most terrible occurrence.  One of our own has defied our Master.”  Some of the children began to whimper. “You must realized how shocked and disappointed we were when we saw one of our most promising young people turn astray,” he took a ragged breath, and then continued, “We, the leaders of this community have decided to be gracious.  We will give this man a chance to refute what he has said tonight at the Penance Field.  Till then, dear children, peace to all.”  He lowered his hands and left. 

    Slowly, people’s voices began to rise.  Mark pushed his way over to Cassie and whispered, “Do you think he will refute what he has said?” 

    She tried to look positive; she knew how attached Mark was to Vilen, “Of course.  Vilen is no fool.”

    He looked at her with unbelieving eyes then disappeared into the part of the crowd leaving the building.  Once out of the meeting house Cassie slowly made her way towards the small hut she shared with her mother, Helen.  Right before she had been born, her father had been put to death by the Teachers for organizing an attempt on the Master’s life.  It was a disgrace that Helen had tried to lift from their heads for the thirteen years of Cassie’s life.  However, their house still lay on the outskirts of the town, a sign of poor favor from the Teachers.

    As Cassie entered the poorly furnished kitchen her mother looked up from where she was kneading bread.  “Where have you been!” her sharp words made Cassie blink.  Her mother rarely spoke that way.

    “Gathering herbs,” she reached into the leather bag and hesitated as her fingers brushed the book.  She wouldn’t tell her mother about it yet.  She would read it first.  The herbs lay beneath it, and as she pulled them out, a small smile appeared on her mother’s face. 

    “I’m sorry, dear.  Today has just been such a long one.  You are a good daughter.”  She wrapped Cassie in a hug then returned to the dough. 

    Cassie slid onto a rickety chair and watched her mother’s hands methodically knead the dough.  “Did you go to the meeting?”

    Helen’s shoulders slumped and she gave a tiny nod, “I didn’t dare take a chance that they would notice me gone.  You know how they regard us.”

    Cassie laid her head on her arm.  “What did Vilen do?”

    Her mother paused then placed the dough in a pan and put it in the oven.  She sat down wearily next to Cassie.  “The Master was taking one of his meditative strolls through the village.  Vilen walked up to him and challenged what he had taught at the last gathering.  A crowd gathered, and Vilen began to talk about how the Teachers and the Master were wrong in what they taught.  The Teachers came and subdued him and then took him to the prison.”

    “I can’t believe he would defy the Master.  That-that is crazy.  Surely he must have known it is a nearly unforgivable sin.”  Cassie shook her head. 

    “Aye.  He’s fortunate they didn’t kill him then and there,” Helen tilted her head, “I believe they were somewhat worried about how quickly he drew a crowd.  You know how popular he is.  They don’t want him to lead people astray.  If we had another uprising, how terrible it would be.”  Silence reigned for a moment before her mother rose to her feet.  “Enough sad talk.  Why don’t you go gather some wood for the fire while I put some of these delicious herbs you brought me into the soup?”

    Cassie tried to look and sound lighthearted as she left her home.  However, her insides were twisting themselves up in knots.  She knew what Vilen was like.  He was stubborn.  They would not be able to change his mind easily. 

    As she picked up sticks along the fringe of the woods a voice hissed, “Cassie.”  Mark beckoned a finger.

  

    “What?” she hurried towards him.

    He glanced furtively around, “I’ve been asking people about what Vilen said.  You know what, what he said made sense and-“

    “Are you crazy!” fear coursed down Cassie’s spine, “What if the Teachers hear that you think he is right?  You’ll be punished!”  The children in the village were kept under a strict rein.  If they so much as hinted that they disagreed with something that was said by the Teachers, they were punished severely.

    “I don’t care.  If Vilen is right, then, well, they are wrong.”  Mark’s blue eyes carried deep conviction.  He was convinced of this.

    “I don’t know what Vilen said, and I have no desire to know.  The Teachers and the Master are the ones who know the truth, not some measly boy who lives on the edge of the village.”

    “He’s not a measly boy, and you know that.” 

    “But he still defied the Master and that is wrong,” she held up a hand to stop his reply, “I don’t want to hear anymore about it.  You’ll get me, and yourself, in trouble.  Now, go and put that nonsense out of your head.”

    Anger filled his eyes as he turned and stomped off, leaving her standing there.  Cassie’s stomach sunk.  Mark was stubborn when he thought he was right.  “Oh, please,” she murmured, “Don’t do anything foolish.”

Update on Challenge Page

To our readers:

I did a little up dating on our challenge page. I am excited to say that it now has, not only a new title but it includes this:

If you are a reader and would like to suggest a challenge: email Hope at lilliputiangraciasscottland@gmail.com with the subject being "LARK challenge suggestion". I will the evaluate your idea and potentially post it.

Chocolate Debate

Faith and I are in a class together where we had to pick a partner and write a debate\script. Not surprisingly, we picked each other. :)  We had to make our script be about 5 min long (when acted) and it had to include hidden fallacies for the rest of the class to pick out. Here is what we came up with. We'd appreciate your feedback!




Faith:  Eating chocolate

Hope:  You know that’s bad for you?

Faith:  Huh?  What do you mean?

Hope:  Well first, you know that has a ton of sugar in it.

Faith:  Sugar? Grabs more chocolate. Yummy!

Hope:  Rolls eyes. Yes it’s good tasting but at least certain types of sugar are bad for you in large doses. Large doses are anything more than 6 teaspoons for women, more for men. That is two teaspoons less than a regular can of soda has in it!

Faith:  Huffs. Are you homeschooled or something? Do you like eat vegetables all day?

Hope:  No.

Faith:  Well, actually, sugar is good for you.  It has carbohydrates in it and carbohydrates provide more than 60% of the amount of energy required by the body.  Also, chocolate itself, decreases the risk of stroke and heart attack

Hope: According to my research that last fact you mentioned is still in debate. Another thing unfavorable about chocolate: it has caffeine in it which helps age you, dehydrate you and raise your blood pressure.

Faith:  Actually, I do believe that you are wrong, chocolate has antioxidants that add two years to your life expectancy.  

Hope: Are you talking about milk chocolate or dark? I was referring to milk chocolate. Based off of the research I've done dark chocolate has a lot of good antioxidants while milk chocolate has a comparatively small amount.  Dark chocolate I don’t think is as bad for you because it has less sugar and is closer to its natural form--cocoa. 

Faith:  But still, that doesn't change the fact that chocolate has antioxidants that help prevent oxidation and that help you to live longer.  Besides, if dark chocolate is good for you then milk chocolate has to be good for you too.  

Hope:  As I said, I think dark chocolate is better for you but it’s still got a bad side It has Phenylethylamine  (fenel-ehtel-ah-mean) in it. That’s a mood elevator. It makes you feel happier and removes your inhibitions. So you’re more likely to do something that would normally embarrass you if you've eaten a load of chocolate.

Faith:  Happy?  What's wrong with being happy?  Yippy!  Bounces up and down.  I’m happy!  Besides, if you are like me, then you don't have to eat chocolate to do something embarrassing.  I'm sure you agree.   

Hope: Sarcastically. Me? No, I never do anything embarrassing. I really don't understand you on that level. How much of that killer have you consumed anyway?!

Faith:  Do you want a piece? Holds one out in her hand.

Hope:  Uh, sure, thanks. Absentmindedly takes it and puts it in her mouth. Where were we now?

Faith:  Chocolate is good for you.

Hope:  You mean it’s bad for you right?

Faith:  So, how good are you at math?

Hope:  Surprised at the change of subject.  Um...I’m not.

Faith:  Chocolate helps with mental math!  Watch. Puts a piece in her mouth and chews ponderously  Two plus two is four! See?

Hope:  Sarcastically. Oh, yes. I’m totally convinced now.  And while you’re eating all that chocolate, enjoy your migraine caused by the tyramine in it.

Faith:  What’s a migraine? My head hurts too much right now for me to remember.

Hope:  Rolls eyes. Like I said, enjoy your migraine. And while you are proving my point let me add this: the high olalate content in chocolate can also cause kidney stones.

Faith:  But spinach and squash also can cause kidney stones.  Are you going to say that they are not good for you as well?

Hope: No I’m not, I don’t know enough about the issue. Besides that, it is irrelevant to whether or not chocolate is healthy.

Faith:  I beg to differ.  I’m saying that, although chocolate may cause kidney stones, so do other foods.  Foods that we believe are healthy.  So, what you are saying does not prove that chocolate is unhealthy.

Hope: Well for one I never said I thought squash and spinach were healthy. In fact I said I wasn't educated enough about that issue to give a good answer. No matter whether they are healthy or not my point still remains that olalate is bad for you and that chocolate has that ingredient.

Faith:  But you must agree that the fact that it has olalate doesn't not necessarily make it bad for you.  Besides, chocolate also does good things for you, like I have already mentioned.

Hope: No, I don't have to agree with you that olalate doesn't make it bad. But I am sick of this... can we just agree that chocolate  might have some good properties (at least dark chocolate) and it might have some bad ones? So if you chose to eat it, practice moderation. Enjoy it in small doses.

Faith: Sure I think I can agree to that.

Hope: Smiles. Great!

Both shake hands.

Faith:  Want another piece of chocolate? 

Hope: Startled. Wait, did you say "another"?!

Faith:  You've already had one, remember?

Life Time Relationship

This story would have worked for the challenge but I had a specific reason for wanting to post it today...three days after the challenge ended.



Life Time Relationship
I stretched my three year old legs as hard as I could desperately trying to go up the narrow brown steps as fast as my older guide. The curly brown head  turned around, as it reached the top of the long stair case, and watched we with two brown eyes that had both shyness and excitement strangely mixed.

“Your stairs squeak.” I panted bluntly as I finally stood beside her at the top.

She giggled a happy, bubbly little giggle as she danced ahead of me down the hallway. I caught myself smiling too though I hadn’t intended to be funny.

“Here it is.” She flipped a switch and stepped out of my way.

My jaw dropped and I stared at her jealously. She had a room nearly as big as mine, but she had it all to herself! Besides that, it was purple, my favorite color.

“Wanna play with my dolls?”

I cringed. Playing with dolls was girly. I looked around hopefully for the Legos or wooden toy swords. Instead I saw play cooking sets, dolls and a large doll house. Peeking out of the closet I saw pink ruffly dresses for playing dress up. I groaned. My idea of dressing up meant tossing on a pair of army pants, a black t-shirt and strapping a toy gun across my back.

I sighed. “Sure I’ll play with your dolls.”

~~~~~~~~~

Seven Years Later

I stared frustrated across the top of my game chest at the curly brown hair and large brown eyes laughing at me from behind their small frames.

“If you don’t want to play Uno, Money Matters, go outside or--“ I smirked slightly “play with dolls, what are we going to do?” My eyes roamed the room for a solution.

“Well…” my eyes ended their search on her face and I could tell by the way she drug her words out she didn’t expect me to get too enthusiastic about her proposition. “We could talk!”

I dropped the lid of the chest.

“Talk! We’re ten-or at least I am-we’re not quite old and boring enough to talk—“ I glanced at her out of the corners of my eyes. “I hope.”

She had changed so much in the past year that I couldn’t be sure; talking might be her new favorite pastime.

She looked away and I could tell I had hurt her feelings. Great, my last day with her before we moved a state away and I hurt her feelings. You would think I would learn after seven years of friendship but I hadn’t ever really cared enough to soften myself towards her.

That was me—harsh, blunt, and full of life.

It was also her— gentle, soft and intellectual.

We could enjoy each other but she was often hurt by my force and I caught myself despising her for being week.

“Fine.” I sighed loudly. “We’ll talk since you’re the guest and get to chose what we do.” I flopped down on the floor. “How are your new siblings? Do you like finally having a little sister?”

She smiled but it seemed a little tired.

“Yes. But it’s been hard. This whole year has…”

~~~~~~~~

Three Years Later

I weighed my options in my mind. I had three minutes to chose; either go out to eat with my parents or spend a whole night and a day with someone I had hardly talked to for three years.

I looked around my grandma’s over turned house. It was messy in preparation for the auction and mess stressed me. It would be nice to get away from it, and memories of my grandma who had recently died, for a while.

“I’ll go with them.” I announced to my parents.

My Mom peeked out of a closet she was cleaning, lent and dust making her already graying head look white.

“Okay. I’ll call her Mom and tell her.”

The next morning I found myself sitting in a large van looking past a curly brown head out the window. The brown eyes looked at me curiously. They had lost some of their laugh with the age of seriousness, just like mine had recently gained some back after a year of deep depression. They were about even now.

“Have you ever read  To Kill A Mockingbird?”

I smiled, pleased.

“Yes, I just did. It is one of my favorite books.”

“Really? Mine too. I also like—“

Needless to say we talked the whole day and a half. At first I thought she had changed to be more interesting like me. But when I thought about it, I was the one who had changed to be more like her.

And that is the story of a lifetime relationship.

Happy birthday to Grace, today! You have been such a blessing to me over the years! May God bless you more than either of us could ever imagine!

Happy Valentines Day!

Happy Valentines Day! Don't forget the greatest love ever shown:

John 3:16

New American Standard Bible (NASB)

¹⁶ “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.

Also, if any of you haven't participated in the challenge and want to, remember, today is the last day!

Haunted

    It haunted her.  In her dreams it was visible, during her waking hours she could feel its presence.  It followed her like a relentless bloodhound veiled in dark, murky mist.  Clare twisted the dial to the safe, sweat pooling on her brow.  She couldn't see the creature, but it was there, lurking beyond her sight. 

    Her pulse accelerated when she heard the promising click.  The door creaked open revealing stacks of papers and money.  It has to be here!   She rifled through stack after stack until her fingers felt the cold metal.  No other choices were available.

    Footsteps echoed down the corridor.  Clare panicked.  Everyone was supposed to be home enjoying a leisurely supper.  She quickly closed the safe, stuck the gun beneath her jacket, , and dove beneath the desk.  The light flicked on in the office.  The person was humming quietly.  They were coming around to this side of the desk, in a few moments they would-  “Clare!  What are you doing here?”

    With guilty eyes, Clare looked up into the face of her Dad’s secretary.  She had to get tough and cold to make the secretary back off.  “What are you doing here, Trisha?” she stood to her feet and drilled the petite women with scornful eyes.

    She smiled, “Finishing up some work.  But answering my question with another question will not throw me off track.  What are you doing here?”

    “None of your business,” as she stalked towards the doorway she bumped into a chair.  The gun fell to the ground with a clang.

    Trisha’s eyes widened. 

    Clare leaped towards her and slammed her up against the wall.  “Don’t you dare tell anyone, you understand?” 

    Trisha stared at her, her pupils large.

    “I’ll take that as a yes.”  In a few moments she was out of the building, the gun safe within her grasp once again. 

    A shiver ran down her back.  It was still there, watching, waiting.  She gulped in a breath and sprinted the last few feet to her car.  She had to get away.  Far away. 

    “Don’t think you can end it.”

    Clare whirled.  A black shape sat in the back of her car.  It leaned forwards, green eyes glowing.  “Come with me, I can help you.” 

    Something within her was drawn to this creature that terrified her.  It reached a dark hand out and touched her shoulder.  A fiery pain tour down her side.  Clare screamed and slapped at it.  Her hand passed through thin air.  It was gone as if it had never been there before.  She leaned back against the seat and panted. 

    Something knocked on the window.  Clare was barely able to keep another scream from leaping out of her throat.  It was only Trisha.  She opened the door and stepped out. 

    “Are you okay?  I thought I heard a scream.”

    “I’m fine,” Clare’s voice cracked.

    “You don’t look it.  Your face is as white as a sheet,” a smile tinged Trisha’s lips, “Did you see a ghost?”

    The terror of what had just happened struck Clare again; her knees buckled sending her to the pavement.  Black dots swam before her.  Trisha was beside her saying something but the words didn’t make sense.  She could feel the creature’s eyes on her.  She turned.  They stared at her, turning from green to red.  Everything went black.

   

    Clare sat up sweating and panting.  It had all been a dream.  A few years back, however, it had been reality.  Though there had not been a creature haunting her, there had been an evil that had wrapped itself around her soul. Thank you Lord, for delivering me from that life.  A smile, a wide joyful smile, spread across her face warming her to her toes.  She had been delivered from a life of misery and destruction.  The occasional nightmare reminded her how much she had been rescued from.  Oh thank you Lord.   

          

A Simple Love Story

So...I shot myself in the foot. And the worst part is that I did it with my eyes wide open.  I posted a challenge without any ideas what I was going to write, no inspiration, and hardly any time to get it done. Thus I had to force, hurriedly, write. ( I almost didn't write anything but I had posted the challenge and I figured that would be bad form.) That always turns out my worst stories--and yes, this is one of them. Go ahead, click the "Bad" button.

A Simple Love Story

Ecarg sat on her back porch steps, her strait black hair falling over her shoulders and sticking to her wet face. Her eyes were wondering all along the Montana horizon but they weren’t seeing anything. Hearing a step behind her in the house she jumped up and quickly brushed away the signs of her weakness. The door opened and she found herself facing a middle age man wearing a black suit and carrying a black leather bag.

“Lizzy?” she reached for the corner of the house to steady herself, the doctor’s face was averted.

“Your name is Ecarg right?” He spoke gently almost pityingly.

“Yes.”

“Your mother wanted to see you.”

“She’s not my—“ Ecarg let the words trail off. Right now that didn’t matter. “Thanks.” She mumbled and opened the door as the doctor headed towards his wagon.

--------

The door slammed behind Ecarg and she grabbed the wall and held on to her aching side.

“Ecarg! You’re a sight! Go get washed up this minute!” Then looking around her, “Where’s my Lizzy! What have you done with her?” her questions started in a shocked tone and ended in a terrified shriek.

“Where is Pa? I need to find him now!” Ecarg gasped between gulping for air.

For once she didn’t tell her that “Pa” was vulgar; she should call him “Father”, like her Lizzy did.

“He’s out in the barn. Ecarg, tell me what is going on right this minute. What have you done to my baby!?”

“No time!” Ecarg dashed back out the door, her bare feet hurt from her long run but she hardly noticed. “Pa! Pa! Come quickly!”

Her father appeared almost immediately outside the barn door. “Ecarg what is it?”

“Lizzy, Pa! I need you to come quick, she’s hurt real bad.” Ecarg motioned widely towards the creek.

She heard a scream from her who had followed her out the back door. Weak woman! What good did that do?

“Take me now!”  Her father grabbed her hand and they began running with him pulling her faster than her tiered feet could go.

When they arrived home, with him carrying Lizzy’s limp body, Ecarg waited outside their bedroom well aware she didn’t want her anywhere near.

“Ecarg! Go get the doctor!” Her Pa’s voice was worried and she didn’t even bother to let down the corral gate she simply jumped her pony over it.

 The doctor’s house was a full two miles away but Ecarg had always loved riding bareback and she was very good at it. She supposed that was because that was the way her mother had taught her.

She could remember her mother saying, “It’s natural for you Ecarg, because that’s the way your ancestors always rode. They didn’t understand the white man’s need for a saddle. Your Grandfather, White Feather, didn’t even bother to use a blanket most of the time and at his last battle he had to flee from the white soldiers. He always told me he was able to get away because their heavy saddles weighed them down. Always remember that Ecarg. If you want to ride fast, go bareback.”

Her mother had been the smartest woman she knew. She taught Ecarg how to care for a garden, how to tend wounds, and many other things the Indian women had taught her as a little girl.

“I always tease your father that he married me only for my skills.” She told Ecarg once and they had both laughed because her father was most certainly in love with her mother and wouldn’t have cared if she could tan a buffalo hide or not.

Ecarg shook her head to clear the memories and was not surprised to feel tears running down her face. She always cried when she thought of her mother, especially when she thought of her as compared to the woman her father had come home with one day and informed her was her “new” mother. Her new mother was a pale, prim window from the east who had a four year old daughter, Lizzy. Ecarg  soon learned to love the shy, blonde little baby but the mother was her most bitter enemy. The very first day she had taken over the kitchen and thrown away all the beautiful clay dishes Ecarg’s mother had made. She insisted Ecarg’s father by them a decent set of dishes; they turned out to be china which Ecarg was forever making her mad with by accidently shattering one of the impractical things.

Ecarg shook her head again, harder this time. The doctors house loomed up towards she and she started worry about what he would think of her. Her family was new to this area and she had never met the doctor. A bareheaded, barefoot, half Indian girl would be something new for him she was sure.

-----------

“Ecarg! Is that you?” she heard her Pa’s voice call sternly from the front room. “Were have you been it almost time for us to be going.”

“Yes Pa. I’ll be there in a minute.” Ecarg quickly ran her hands through her long black hair to comb it and then began hurriedly braiding it. “Arg!” she grumped as she dropped her black ribbon. Bending over to pick it up she stood on the back of her long black dress and heard a small ripping sound. “Umph!” she struggled to her feet right as she appeared in the doorway.

“Are you okay Ecarg?”

Ecarg looked at her out of the corners of her eyes. Surprised, she realized for the first time how pretty this woman was. Her golden hair was tucked neatly back under a small black straw hat and her black dress created a nice contrast to her pearl colored skin.

“You look nice Ecarg. Lizzy-“ here she choked a little but went on, “Lizzy would have called you “ “Bootiful Cargy! “ “  and I agree.”

Ecarg starred at her in open mouthed surprise. Here they were, getting ready to go to Lizzy’s funeral and Lizzy’s mother could talk about Lizzy without breaking down. That was more than Ecarg could do. Besides that, she had paid Ecarg a complement for the first time!

“I’m sorry Ecarg I wasn’t very nice to you when I first came. I so terribly wanted to make a good impression on your father that I over did it and pushed his daughter away in the process. Will you forgive me and allow me to be your mother and love you since I just lost my other daughter?”

Ecarg hesitated for only a moment and then flung herself into the others arms.

“Oh yes! Yes! I’m so sorry I wasn’t nicer to you either and I’m so sorry about Lizzy—“ Ecarg burst into tears but continued through her loud sobs, “ I really did love her. I shouldn’t have gone looking for that plant but my mother, I mean my other mother, told me that it makes good tea and I wanted to try some. It’s my fault that Lizzy d-died. I should have—“

The black gloved hand covered Ecarg’s mouth.

“No its my fault. I didn’t treat you like I should have and meanwhile I was treating Lizzy to well. God took Lizzy away from me so that I would see what I had done to you and fix it.”

“Girls! The horses are waiting. It’s time to go!” Ecarg’s Pa called from the other room.

“Now dry your tears Ecarg, dear, and lets go.”

Ecarg looked up into the gentle face. “Yes Mother.”