Creative Christianity: The Widow's Quest - Part 5

(This story and its previous parts are based on the story of the widow and the judge found in Luke 18:1-8. This is a fictional story with a world and characters built by me.)

Connie had been working for two hours on the old water heater, but she finally managed to find the problem. Several of the pipes had become clogged with mineral deposits and rust. It was amazing the pipes had not started leaking. She moved up the basement steps and found Rocky playing with Adam and the pups. She found Maribelle in the kitchen working on a pot of soup.

Image by Tom from Pixabay

“That smells delicious!”

Maribelle smiled. “It was my mom’s recipe. It lasts a few days if we are careful. It’s not as rich as she used to make it, but…well…things are not as easy as they were when she was alive.”

Connie nodded her head. “A lot has happened in the last few decades. How long has she been gone?”

“About three years. She got the lung illness, and my dad was already gone. We tried the best we could to help her, but it finally took her.”

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

Connie wiped her dirty hands on a rag that Maribelle had given her and then put her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. It is never easy to lose a mother. Mine has been gone for almost twenty years, but I try to remember the good days we had together. Your mother was very fortunate to have you and your husband to help care for her.”

Maribelle nodded and seemed to brighten a bit. “I guess you are right. I never really looked at it that way. I only wish she would have lived long enough to meet Adam. He’s our future.”

Connie looked at the waning daylight out the window and realized she would not get to the Manor of Minward on this trip. She was going to have to return to the Rift by tomorrow morning, or Neopolo would send a few of his goons after her. It seemed ridiculous. She was nobody, but De Caro believed everyone in the Rift was his. If you went out, you came back, or you died.

Maribelle must have noticed her gaze out the window. “If you have to be going, I understand. It has been wonderful for Adam to have a few playmates for a while. Please don’t feel the need to stay.”

Connie turned, her mind already made up. “I’m not going anywhere, leastwise not until later tonight when I have to make my way back to the Rift. I found the problem with your water heater, all I need are a few clean pipes, and a torch. I already have solder and the other necessary tools. Usually at steam works they have torches for workers to use. Any ideas?”

Image by Ken Boyd from Pixabay

“My husband, Lukas has a torch. He does metal work for the Hy-Breds. They like all them fancy fences and designs on their moving vehicles. I’m not sure about clean pipes. You could check at the church. They take in a lot of scrap stuff in trade for food. I’m pretty sure, it is just another way to get people in to hear their message.” She laughed.

“If you think Lukas would let me borrow his torch, then just point me in the right direction and I will go see if I can get the pipes I need for the job.”

“Oh, I am sure Lukas will be happy to loan you his torch in exchange for a hot shower. I’ll write the address of the church down for you. It’s just a few blocks away.”

“Do you mind if Rocky hangs out here while I’m gone?”

Maribelle peeked around the corner to where Adam was giggling and puppies were yapping. “Not at all. He’s the first babysitter I’ve had since Adam was born.”

* * * * *

The church was a solid, old structure built from brick, with large wooden doors and stained glass windows that still looked mostly intact. There were only a few open churches in the Rift, and they were barely hanging together. De Caro gleaned anything and everything shortly after he came into power. He wanted all the residents of the Rift to know they, and everything they had, belonged to him.

Image by Couleur from Pixabay

Connie saw a few people standing outside one of the sets of doors, so she moved in their direction.

“Excuse me, I was told I might be able to find some usable scrap materials here.”

A very large, dark skinned man gave her a stern look. “Who sent you?”

Connie had no idea who these people were and she wasn’t about to give them Maribelle and Lukas’ names, especially after they were being so kind to her.

“Well, I...as you can see I am a steamer, but I live in the Rift and often when I get sent to a job out here, I try to pick up a few odd jobs, just to help stretch the coin…I mean who can blame me…my name is Connie by the way. What is yours?”

The man looked a little unsettled by Connie’s friendly, matter-of-fact tone. He hesitated. Another voice from behind him said, “His name is Reggie, and he is being very rude.”

An older man stepped past Reggie and extended his hand towards her. “I’m Andreas Eastman. I help out around here when I have time.”

Connie took his hand and smiled at him. He was a nice looking man, and she suddenly felt mortified at how dirty her hands and everything else on her was. She quickly pulled her hand away and adjusted her hair behind her ear.

“What can we do for you?”

“Well, I am doing a job nearby on an old water heater and a few of the pipes need to be replaced.”

“Come on. I’ll show you where we keep the scrap metal.”

Connie followed Andreas into the church. They went through the sanctuary where a small group huddled together with their heads bowed. They came to a hallway which led past several rooms and what looked and smelled like a kitchen. Connie’s stomach growled. Eventually they went through another outer door into a small yard. Taking up about one fourth of it was an area filled with all sorts of metal, wood and other material scarps.

Image by andreas N from Pixabay

“Wow! This is impressive, and everything is so well organized.”

Andreas chuckled. “We do a lot with volunteers. It’s our way of trying to keep people off the streets. It gives them a place and a purpose. The scrap is here for locals to purchase.”

Connie felt her heart sink. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of money.”

Andreas smiled at her warmly. “Oh, you misunderstand. When I say purchase I mean barter. People can stay for a message, help in the kitchen, even do some cleaning. No currency is ever exchanged. Around here that is hard to come by.”

Connie still felt wary. She didn’t have much time.

Andreas seemed to sense her hesitation. “I overheard you say you are from the Rift. You are a ways from home aren’t you?”

Connie nodded, but didn’t speak. She was feeling overwhelmed.

“Listen, I am aware of how it works. I have a few friends in the Rift. You have a time limit. Did you get all your legitimate business finished?”

Connie felt herself coming unhinged. She was so tired of carrying this burden alone. “Well, I…I actually didn’t have legitimate business. My work papers were forged. I was on my way to the Manor of Minward. I expected to be there and back before my time was up. I didn’t know I would meet an orphan, a mother pup and her babies and a family who needed a little help…”

She looked up at Andreas and noticed his light eyes looking at her intently. “Why were you going to the Manor of Minward?”

Connie took a deep breath and stood a little straighter. She was not going to be deterred in her efforts. “I am going to talk to the Lord of the Manor. He needs to do something about the Rift. People are living in squalor and Neopolo De Caro needs to be taken down!”

As soon as it came out of her mouth, Connie worried that she had said too much. How did she know that the “friends” this man had inside the Rift weren’t a part of DeCaro’s mob?

“Look,” she started. “You don’t need to worry. I’m not going to hurt anyone. I’m just one person who would like to make a difference. You get that, right?”

Image by wal_172619 from Pixabay

Andreas smiled. “Yes. All of us who are at this church want to make a difference.”

"Why don’t you just let me scrounge through the scrap, tell me how to pay and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Sure! Have a look. When you are done you’ll need to talk to our pastor. He’ll tell you how you can pay.”

Connie nodded then slipped past Andreas and began scouring the scrap pile. She found several pieces she thought would work, plus a few flexible stainless steel pieces with the appropriate attachment ends. She was delighted by that find. When she was finished she made her way back into the church.

She was just going to step back into the sanctuary when Andreas called to her from down the hall. “Connie?”

She turned and he motioned her to follow. She moved down the hall and saw him slip into a doorway a few feet further on.

When she stepped inside she took a sharp breath. Sitting in a chair on one side of the desk was a man she assumed to be the pastor. Across from him sat the guard from the first check point in the Rift.

“Hey there, Sunshine!”

Creative Christianity: The Widow's Quest - Part 4

(The following story is based on the parable in Luke 18:1-8. It is a fictional account with allegorical aspects. This is a fictional world with characters and events created by me.)

Connie, Rocky, and their little band of pups continued along through the manufacturing district until they entered another area of residences. This neighborhood looked a little better off than the area she had found Rocky, and substantially better than the Rift, but it still looked worn and weary. Connie wondered if that was how she looked?

She knew they needed to get something to eat, but toting along a pack of pups probably wasn’t going to let them in to very many places.

“I think we need to find a place to rest for a little while.” Connie spoke out loud.

“And get something to eat. I’m starving, and I think Isabella is too.” Rocky looked behind them.

Image by Lenka Novotná from Pixabay

“Isabella?” Connie looked to where the mother pup was following at some distance. She looked ready to drop. The two puppies who were walking still seemed to have plenty of spunk.

Rocky nodded. “Yeah, that was my baby sister’s name.”

Connie’s heart hurt. The boy had been through so much loss. She had too. She decided they weren’t going to lose Isabella. She stopped walking so the the pup could catch up, and as they waited she noticed a young woman pushing a stroller down a side street.

She handed Rocky her side bag with the two sleeping pups and said, “Stay right here. I am going to see if we can get some help.”

She jogged towards the woman. Trying to not look threatening, she slowed to a walk and smiled while still a few yards off.

Image by Patou Ricard from Pixabay

“Hello,” she began.

“I don’t got any money, so don’t try to sell me anything,” the woman clipped.

Connie could see as she got closer, while the woman was younger, she looked tired, and not particularly clean. She quickly attempted to put her at ease.

“Oh, I am not a sales person. I was just wondering if you might help me, you see I am new to the area, and my nephew and I have been walking for a while and wondered if there was a park nearby where we could rest for a bit.” She felt bad lying about Rocky, and she also didn’t mention getting food. She didn’t want the woman to think she had money.

“You got that dog’s papers?” The woman jutted her chin out towards where Rocky, Isabella and the two puppies waited.

Connie tried to think fast. “Well, I would gladly get her papers, but as I said I am new to the area and we actually just found her today. I felt so bad for her and her little pups.”

The woman drew closer, and Connie could see a little boy in the stroller, probably about two. “Do you think I could show them pups to my boy? He just loves animals, and they are such a rarity around here, since they all need to be papered. We can’t afford the fees, let alone the food to feed one.”

Connie relaxed a little. “I understand. Everything is so expensive. A pet is a big commitment. I am Connie, by the way.”

The woman finally smiled. “I’m Maribelle, and this is my boy Adam.”

Connie bent down. “It is very nice to meet you and your momma, Adam. If you don’t mind walking over, the mother pup is very tired. She needs food, but I wasn’t sure where to go.'“

She and Maribelle started walking and the young woman said, “If you need food there is an old church on the corner of Rawls and Jones. They serve lunch and dinner. You just have to sit and listen to the pastor talk about his religion.”

Connie took that information and filed it away. When they reached Rocky and the dogs, Maribelle picked up one of the puppies and showed him to her son. The boy laughed and wiggled in his seat with joy.

Maribelle stood up and asked, “You a steamer? I see your bag there.”

“Well, I uh…yes, I am.”

“If you and your family want to come to my house, I’ll give you food in exchange for work on our water heater. It stopped working a few weeks back. Sure would be nice to have hot water again.”

Constance looked at Rocky who nodded enthusiastically. She knew she was taking a chance. She had long ago stopped trusting people and knew this could be a trap. Desperate people did desperate things. She knew that fact well from living in the Rift. She looked at the young mother and her little boy and thought something about them felt right.

She nodded. “That would be nice, and I will take a look at your water heater.”

Image by Andreas Lischka from Pixabay

Maribelle smiled brightly. “Wonderful! Adam, did you hear that we are going to have company and you can play longer with the puppies.”

Adam clapped his hands and said, “…upppies!!”

They all laughed. Connie picked up her bag of tools, where the two smaller pups were just starting to wake up. She pulled each one out. Rocky took one, and Maribelle, much to Adam’s delight put the other one in the stroller with him. They made their way to Maribelle’s home.

Connie found herself marveling at feelings that rose inside her; feelings she hadn’t had for a very long time. Gratitude, joy and hope. Still, the Rift part of her wondered how long it would last. How long before she was, once again, disappointed, let down, and hurt? How long?

Creative Christianity - The Widow's Quest: Part 1

The following piece begins a series based on the passage found in Luke 18:1-8. It presents a fictional account with allegorical aspects which coincide with the parable told by Jesus in those Scriptures. This is a fictional story with a world, and characters built by me. I hope you enjoy it.

Constance made her way through the narrow, muddy streets, thankful it was raining. A constant downpour washed away some of the surface filth making her feel there was a modicum of cleanliness here in the Rift. She kept her head down, the hood of her coat concealing her face. She didn’t want anyone to know where she was going. If they found out she was on her way to the Manor of Minward they would beat her until she was no longer recognizable. The Black Needles didn’t appreciate the people of their ward asking for help. They didn’t need help. They could make it on their own.

Constance smirked beneath her hood. Neoplo “The Builder” De Caro wasn’t just known for building the run down, decaying ruins the people of the Rift had to live in, but for raising up the crime syndicate that preyed on the very people it was supposed to protect. She had seen enough; enough suffering; enough struggle; enough darkness. If the Lord of Minward was truly just, as she had often heard through her fourty-three years, why didn’t anything change? She was going to find out.

She was going to have to get past a few of De Caro’s check points. He wasn’t fond of people leaving his barony. He had an intricate web of knowledge woven together by his army of groveling lackeys. Constance learned from the time she was very young to blend in. She didn’t want to stand out. Being noticed by Neopolo, meant you became one of his, either that, or you conveniently disappeared. She felt bad for the younger people. De Caro’s appetite wasn’t just reserved for food and drink.

Constance felt bile rise in her throat, but she swallowed it, and clenched her fists. She wasn’t going to become just another of De Caro’s appetizers. She had to have hope; hope that the Lord of Minward would be able to make a change. Maybe he just wasn’t aware of how bad it was in the Rift. As the Lord of an entire city, he must be very busy, and maybe information wasn’t getting through due to De Caro’s influence.

The first check point loomed ahead. Her training in boiler maintenance should be able to get her through this one. She felt the tool bag by her side, then slid her hand into her coat pocket where the forged work papers printed on union stationary, and folded neatly, stayed dry from the down pour.

Image by Anna Veronika from Pixabay

Constance wasn’t alone in this quest. There were a few others who wanted a better life, and knew De Caro’s empire building wasn’t going to benefit them. She and Amos had formed a small group of other “believers”, which now was up to twenty members. They rarely all met together, but stayed in touch using messages sent via trusted couriers. Since the steam movement, and its subsequent advancements in communications, things like sending handwritten messages on foot had become obsolete. Now things were moved along through vast tubular networks both above and below ground pushed along by the compressed power of steam.

Amos had been like a little boy, completely enamored with the advent of the new Steam Era. He loved the machines, the gears, the noise and the power behind something so simple as heated water. She missed him terribly. It was coming up on five years since his death, but grief was relentless where darkness bred, and the Rift was a breeding ground for all that was dank, and miserable.

Image by Peter H from Pixabay

Constance took a deep breath and moved confidently to the first check point. Each check point held a small booth barely big enough for one person, but often occupied by several of Neoplo’s goons. There were three of them in this one. They were chatting and laughing. There were several other people in line.

When her turn came, Constance pulled the papers out of her pocket and quickly shoved them through the small opening in the window.

The man looked down on her, from where he sat in the dry, heated booth.

“You in a hurry there, lass?”

Constance wanted to quip back she was old enough to be his mother, but didn’t reply, just shrugged. She found the best thing to do was not engage. Once you started talking, they became interested. She waited, turning to look at the line that was forming behind her. That was a good thing. The more people waiting, the less time they would take to push you through.

The man stamped her papers and passed them back through the window. As she reached to take them, he wouldn’t let go. She looked up at his scruffy face.

Image by Sammy-Sander from Pixabay

“Smile, Sunshine. Life ain’t so bad. Doesn’t old De Caro take good care of his people?”

Constance swallowed the retort brewing in her gut, gave a shy smile and nodded her head.

“There we go! You have a good night now, lass!”

Constance placed the papers back in her coat pocket. As she walked away she let out a deep breath. One more check point to go.

Relentless - Part 6: Home

Laney, could hear the steady beep, beep, beep of the machine monitoring her heart. She knew where she was, and what was going on. She was dying, but an amazing peace surrounded her, a living, breathing presence. She thought back to all those years ago, the night Steve walked out on her; the night the Shadowed Ones tried to get her to take her life; the night she met her unborn daughter. That night she had given her heart back to its maker; the King.

Image by OsloMetX from Pixabay

“GG?” A sweet, young voice called her name and she could feel the tender hand on her own. She opened her eyes.

Her youngest great grandchild stood next to her hospital bed. He was only eight, but his faith in the King was as strong and as deep as a mighty tree. She smiled at him.

“Silas.” Her voice came out in a raspy whisper.

“GG? Are you going to see Him? Are you going to see the King?” His eyes were wide with hopeful, childlike anticipation.

Laney managed a nod. “Yes, sweetheart. Yes I am.”

Laney turned her head and saw the room filled with her family. She could see Steve in every single one of them. The thought made her smile. Steve hadn’t really given up on her, just like the King and His Son, he relentlessly pursued her.

For a long time she carried the guilt of her abortion, and it made seeing Steve even harder, but gradually, time, and the King’s soothing words reminded her she was forgiven. She was made new, and nothing ever captured her attention again, like His love.

Silas squeezed her hand. “GG, when you get there can you tell Gpa I miss him? Can you also say hi to Cocoa, and Nut?”

Laney managed a soft chuckle as she thought about the last two dogs she and Steve had rescued. The grandkids had been a little older than Silas when they adopted a dark brown puppy from a puppy mill, and a fluffy, white, very busy puppy from the Humane Society.

Image by carpenter844 from Pixabay

“Silas, I will tell them, and I’ll tell Myles, Sophie, Frito, and Chip.”

Silas’ brow wrinkled. “Were those your doggies when you were younger?”

“Oh, yes, Silas. Myles and Sophie were the dogs who helped rescue me. Frito and Chip were your dad and Aunt Evi’s dogs as they grew up.”

Steven Jr. stepped forward and put his hands gently on Silas’ shoulders. “Come on, bud. We need to let Gram rest.”

Silas squeezed her hand one more time then let his father lead him a way from the bed. Laney looked at all of the blessings the King had given her. His grace and mercy showed in every single face that stood in that room.

She lifted her hand towards her son. “Steven, come.”

Steven stepped to the bed and put his arm around his mother lifting her so she could see everyone.

“I love every single one of you, and I know you love me. You all know my story, because I never want you to go down the road I did…to run away from the King. No matter what happens in your lives, only He is truly trustworthy, and loves you completely. He alone makes you exactly who you are supposed to be. Always remember.”

Laney leaned back weakly on her son’s arm, and he gently placed her head on the pillow. “Good bye, Mom. We’ll see you again.”

Her daughter, Evi, came over and kissed Laney’s forehead, her tears anointing her mother for her last journey.

Laney closed her eyes.

* * * * * * * * *

When Laney woke, the first thing she felt was warmth. It was as though she was laying on a glorious Mediterranean beach, the sun beaming down on her with a gentle breeze blowing across her skin. She took a breath and realized she could breath without pain, and she could smell. A million different scents blended together filling her with a joy she had never known. She opened her eyes.

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

She found herself in a garden, one that caused all the Better Homes and Gardens winners to look faded and tiny in comparison. She sat up. She was on a blanket, and laid out beside her was a picnic complete with gingham napkins, a wicker basket, and food that looked like nothing she had ever seen before. She felt her stomach growl. What a glorious feeling after years of having no appetite.

“Laney.”

She looked up. There stood Steve, and her daughter Elena. They had decided to name her, after they had gotten back together. Both of them looked radiant. Stepping out from behind them was the King, His Son, and their presence, Arabella. Arabella was luminescent, as though a million stars filled her very being.

The Son came to her and reached out His hand. “Laney, we are so glad you are here. We have been waiting for you.”

Love, all at once a force, a thought, a breath, a place, an entity clothed her as His hand touched hers.

She was home.

Relentless - Part 5: Rock Bottom

“Laney! What are you doing?”

Laney heard her boyfriend’s voice, but she couldn’t remember where they were. Were they at home? Where were the dogs? She suddenly felt Steve shaking her.

“Laney, what did you do? You killed our baby…my baby…” Steve shook her harder. “Open your eyes, damn it! Look at me!”

Laney forced her eyes to open. She tried to smile, but her face didn't seem to want to respond to what her brain was telling it to do.

Image by 0fjd125gk87 from Pixabay

“…hey, babe…what…time is it?”

Steve shoved her back into the couch. She usually didn’t make it that far after a binge.

“I’m done, Laney. You are on your own. That’s really what you wanted anyway, wasn’t it. You aren’t selfish, you are lost.”

Steve left, slamming the door.

Laney tried to say something, but nothing would come out. She tried to sit up, but she was so hungover she knew that wouldn’t be a good idea.

What was his problem anyway?

“It was my choice…” The words rang out into the empty room sounding like a hollow bell. “Myles? Sophie?”

Image by Linda Crouse from Pixabay

“It was my choice…” she muttered as she fell back asleep.

When she woke some time later it was dark. Not merely the darkness of night, but an inky, thick blackness that seemed to suck the breath out of her. Laney felt paralyzed, but she knew it wasn’t the alcohol and drugs, this was the paralysis of fear.

“Was it your choice?” A smooth voice whispered out of the blackness.

Laney forced herself to sit up. She knew her eyes were open, but why couldn’t she see anything. She felt the fear, like a leggy spider crawling up the back of her neck.

“My body! My choice!” She barked out the words like an angry, caged beast.

“My, my, so adamant, so angry, so vulnerable.” The voice taunted her, like a calm, stoic bully.

“Go away! Leave me alone!”

“But where would the fun be in that? My friends and I have been watching you, following you, waiting for you. You may have the King’s seal, but we can still make your life miserable. That’s really what you want anyway, isn’t it? To be miserable?”

Laney thought the voice sounded strangely like Steve’s.

“You are pathetic. You sold those dumb, four legged beasts to support your growing addiction, and then, last week you sold your own fetus.”

The voice began to giggle. The giggle turned into maniacal, stark raving hysteria. That voice was joined by another, and another, and another, until Laney was sure the laughter was coming from inside her head.

Image by Rebecca Martell from Pixabay

She covered her ears and dropped to her knees on the floor her screams becoming the crazed harmony to the unhinged laughter.

“You aren’t real! You’re just some sort of delusion from the alcohol and drugs. Go away!”

The laughing slowed, but it was replaced by whispers that sounded, oddly, like the hissing of a snake. Laney thought she had finally taken too many hallucinogenics, that her brain would no longer be able to tell the difference between the trip and reality. But then the voice started speaking again.

“I’m just a delusion? A monster of your own making? Tell me, Laney, what would the perfect enemy look like? A man with a funny little mustache who commanded armies and almost took over the world? Or how about a man who took his lovers home, then killed and ate them for dinner? No, no, no, my dear girl. I am perfection. You see I have convinced the world that I don’t exist. I can go about my business of manipulating and destroying lives without anyone ever being the wiser. You have talked yourself into believing a lie, and you even have the King’s seal. All of humanity is pathetic…”

Laney heard what the voice was saying, but she couldn’t make sense of it. “Go away!”

“Come now, Laney. The party is just getting started. You know what, I am a rather busy Being, why don’t we just get this over with. Get that bottle of pills that you have hiding in the cereal box in the cupboard. If you take them all, it should be over in just a few hours.”

Laney gasped. How did he know about the pills? She smirked. Well, of course he would. He was her made up delusion.

“Why not,” she said as she struggled to crawl across the floor towards the kitchen.

“That’s right, Laney. You have nothing left to live for. No dogs, no family. Even your boyfriend, who had bought a ring, left you.”

Laney stopped. “Steve, bought me a ring?”

She felt something begin to twist inside of her. She ignored it and kept moving in the direction of what she thought might be the kitchen. She had to get those pills.

The voice dug in again. “He wanted to marry you. Can you believe he loved you? You made the right choice, you know. You would have never been a good mother.”

“He loved me?”

“Oh, come on Laney! You know he was only marrying you because of the baby. But, even that you have thrown away…the pills are waiting my dear. They will make all of this go away.”

Laney was frozen in a prostrate position when suddenly a thought whispered through her mind…you are loved with an everlasting love…you are the daughter of the King…you matter.

Laney touched her forehead to the floor. “Forgive me, my King…my Lord…my Savior. Rescue me.”

“Do you really think He’s going to listen to your prayers now? After all the weeks, and months, and years of your rebellion?” The voice was becoming angry.

Laney felt the air begin to move. It started like a soft summer breeze and built into a gale force wind. Her hair was whipping around her face. She was sure she could hear thunder, and the hissing and whispering grew tumultuous. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she couldn’t breath.

I’m going to die, she thought.

“ENOUGH!”

Image by Design n Print from Pixabay

Immediately the darkness was overtaken by a beautiful light. A light so warm and comforting that it caused Laney to weep. She felt her heart, iced over from so many years of pride and rebellion crack. From within it, began to seep all the darkness that she had allowed to consume her life. She cried and cried. As she remembered all the choices, her choices, she felt something like steel wool begin to scrub away the grime of manipulation and deceit.

Time passed. Her tears ebbing and flowing from her place on the floor, then she heard a different voice. She looked up.

“Laney.”

All around her home stood warriors in shining armor of light. Each one nodded at her, their faces full of compassion and joy. In front of her stood the elderly man from the park and at his feet sat Myles and Sophie. He made the motion and the two pups bolted for Laney smothering her in doggie kisses.

Laney couldn’t speak she was so overwhelmed. Then she noticed the young woman standing next to the man. She was shining, like the warriors in their armor. She came to Laney and knelt down beside her. She touched Laney’s cheek where tears had moistened it.

“Mom, I love you, and you are going to be okay.”