“Beautiful, isn’t it? The sea, I mean.”
She nodded.
“I don’t mean to intrude, but you...”
“Damon!” she interrupted, in a low voice that he had to struggle to hear, ”I thought we had this discussion before we left T.I.”
His dark eyes narrowed, as he met hers. Fury burned and he turned and stalked away.
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*~*~*~*
Exclusive Preview of Jack Dey's Novel
PARADISE WARRIOR
Sometimes it takes an accidental hero. A riveting story of courage, redemption, love and friendship. Warning: Paradise Warrior is not for the faint hearted. Don’t read it alone!
Mendacante rocketed skyward, his tiny frame blurring as he sped high above the community. Two Yellow Lights were close on his tail, grasping at the air as he slipped out of their reach. Below, groups of people gathered and pointed skyward, marvelling at the sight. He corkscrewed backwards and dived, gathering speed as he plummeted towards the ground. The Yellow Lights, although bigger than he, were caught off guard by his manoeuvre and overshot him. Incensed by Mendacante's tactic, they threw themselves at a blinding rate towards the little Grey Light, gathering speed and closing the gap. Just as Mendacante was about to hit the ground and within reach of the Yellow Lights, he suddenly shot sideways and the Yellow Lights disappeared into an explosion of colour, ploughing headlong into the ground.
"Daydreaming again, little Grey?" came a gruff voice beside him, shaking him from his pleasurable thoughts. "How do you think you are going to earn your colour, if all you do is shirk your training?!"
Mendacante recognised the owner of the voice. It was his drill sergeant. He wore his yellow and blue coloured light proudly, shining all around him like a light through a prism. The superior being made sure his subordinates understood they were not yet worthy of the prestige that came with colour.
"I..I was just going through some tactical procedures in my mind, sir."
"Report to the colonnade and join your platoon. You will see what awaits those who do well."
Mendacante made his way slowly to the colonnade. His dream of becoming a hero and enjoying the adoration that came with colour seemed further away than ever, after the rebuff from his commander. He wondered if he would ever make it out of the Grey Lights, the lowest in the ranks of the Army of The King. He brightened when he remembered that his friend, Detanyun, was amongst those being honoured today. He momentarily forgot about his troubles and hurried to join the other Grey Lights gathered around the great structure.
An impressive throng assembled around the place of honour, each in their respective colours and each in their ascending ranks. There were the Grey Lights at the back; next were the Yellow Lights; then the Blue Lights; Green Lights; and finally, the Red Lights at the front. The platoon commanders wore a base light of red, interspersed with bands of coloured light. The higher the rank, the more coloured bands.
When a warrior did well in his training, he was honoured at the colonnade and depending on his achievements, was assigned a higher coloured light. The newly honoured warrior was then given an assignment for The King, to prove himself worthy and maybe earn a coloured band if he did well in his assignment. Every warrior knew the assignment meant crossing over through the door in the dimensions that led into the Tempter's kingdom and the confines of four dimensions. Being chosen for dimensionalism was a distinguished honour, but it carried terrible dangers, restrictions and extreme temptations to indulge in the ways of the creatures of the earth.
In the legends of the phenomenal battles of Heaven, it is said that Lucifer, the impressive Fallen One, had led a revolt against The King and was thrown out by the High Prince Michael. When Lucifer fell, he took a third of the warriors with him and in so doing, they lost their light and their honour, never to return. Dwelling forever in a place caught between dimensions, in an eternity of darkness, these fallen warriors roamed the dimensions often, finding entry points into the human world when invited by humans looking for supernatural power. Once indwelling a human host, they could command terrific power and significant evil in the world using the host.
The Son of The Great King Himself was the only one to take on four dimensions, become human and not indulge in the Tempter's kingdom. He was adorned with pure white light, an honour reserved only for the greatest warrior. He came back scarred and disfigured, beaten beyond recognition from His battle, but He succeeded in releasing the chosen ones from the captives of the Tempter's kingdom.
There were rumours among the ranks of an ensuing battle, soon to take place, where The Great King would send His Son back to the earth, to rid it of the Tempter, judge the creatures identified by the Tempter's mark, and do away with the restrictions of the four dimensions, forever.
Today however, there were murmurings that the impressive warrior, Michael, was going to be present, to honour a special warrior and assign him a dangerous mission. This was the stuff of dreams, the epitome of every warrior's desire, to be honoured by the prodigious and humble warrior prince. From his distant position among the Grey Lights, Mendacante could see his friend proudly walk out into the middle of the colonnade with three other warriors. Detanyun's light shone a brilliant yellow among the three other Blue Lights.
Although Detanyun was a rank above Mendacante, he by no means treated Mendacante as if he was inferior. In fact, Detanyun had tried to coach the little Grey Light in all forms of combat, but giving up as the little Grey stumbled over, tripping on himself. However, Detanyun became aware of Mendacante’s ability to plan a battle strategy that left even his wiry skills stretched to the limit and trapped in an embarrassing defeat. As Detanyun became hopelessly ensnared in Mendacante’s trap, the sly little Grey would excitedly proclaim, "…and check mate!" his crooked little smile evidence that he was enjoying Detanyun’s embarrassment. Though they were worlds apart in capability, their friendship was strong. For many years, they had grown together in the Grey Light platoon, until Detanyun had been honoured and moved up a rank. Now Mendacante spent most of his time dodging the drill sergeant and dreaming of glory.
A sudden 'aww' rumbled through the colonnade. A huge figure appeared, dressed in red light with six bars of colour, one on top of the other and topped off with a band of white light. Michael had made his entry and the gathering fell silent at the sight of the majestic warrior, while Michael's booming voice echoed across the gathering.
"Fellow servants of The King, messengers and protectors of the chosen ones, we have come together to honour the achievements of these, your brother warriors. Through their impressive performance, training as warriors of The King, they have been chosen to represent Him in a commando assignment behind enemy lines. Their ability to carry out their assignment is imperative, to set the ground work for the plans of the next, looming battle against the Fallen Ones."
Michael then walked up to the four warriors, dwarfed in his presence and nodded toward each one. The three Blue Lights immediately turned green and the warriors smiled in appreciation to Michael, obviously proud of their promotion. Detanyun gazed up toward the great warrior and Michael smiled directly at him. Detanyun's Yellow Light turned red, sending a ripple of disbelief through the gathering. Michael reached down and handed Detanyun a medallion, a small gold circle, encircling a six-sided star on a chain. The medallion awarded to The King's elite warriors.
Mendacante broke protocol and cheered from the ranks of the Grey Lights and was immediately castigated by his fellow Greys for drawing attention to them. He didn't care. He was living his dream through his friend. Michael and Detanyun glanced towards the direction of the ruckus and Detanyun smiled. He couldn't see Mendacante, but he knew his voice.
Michael then handed Detanyun a red folder, with the star emblem on the front. He commended the four warriors and made his way determinedly back to stand in the presence of The King.
*~*~*~*
Mendacante buzzed around Detanyun like a fly attracted to a dead carcass,
while Detanyun sat with his back against a tree, staring dejectedly at the folder lying in his lap. Mendacante's euphoria at his friend's promotion to a Red Light warrior and his acceptance as a member of the special Forces suddenly ceased, as he surveyed his friend's downcast features.
"What's wrong, Detanyun?" Mendacante asked with concern.
"My assignment is to watch over a baby Earth girl," Detanyun replied disappointedly, "an assignment any other colour, including you, could do. Am I to be a babysitter after many years of intensive training? And now the Prince chooses to embarrass me, with this."
Mendacante sat next to his friend and thought for a while. "This baby must be very important if she is to be assigned a Special Forces Red Light. I am sure there is more to the story, otherwise the Prince would have chosen someone else."
"Yeah, I guess you're right, Mendacante."
"When does your mission start?"
"Tomorrow. Michael will open the dimensions for me to cross over, first thing in the morning."
"Are you scared?"
"No, just a bit disappointed."
*~*~*~*
Gabriel, who also stands in the presence of The King, met Michael at the entrance to the throne room. "How did he take it, Michael?"
"As expected. He thinks we are sending him in as a baby sitter," Michael responded.
Gabriel waited for a moment and then spoke again. "The King wants to give him the heart of a human as soon as he crosses over," Gabriel whispered, fearing for Detanyun.
"The heart of a human?! That’s a heavy load for any warrior to carry," Michael answered, sharing Gabriel’s concern.
Michael thought for a while. "The King is the Great Wise One. He sees things from every angle, at every moment in time. He must have a plan, Gabriel."
*~*~*~*
Detanyun stood expectantly by the tree that marked the opening to the four dimensions. It was early morning and as he searched the surroundings, he could see Michael's huge outline approaching, moving swiftly towards him.
*~*~*~*
Concern gripped Michael as he drew near the tree to the dimensions and Detanyun waiting nearby. He knew the warrior wouldn't have any of his heavenly assets on Earth and for his own safety and the success of his mission, his identity would be masked while operating deep inside enemy territory.
Michael approached the tree and commanded the dimensions to open.
Mendacante stood nearby, hiding, hoping to stay out of sight but also wanting to see his best friend leave. A doorway appeared and Detanyun stepped towards it. Mendacante glanced at the place where Detanyun had been sitting and saw his medallion lying there. He rushed in and scooped it up and then sped towards Detanyun. Just as he was about to hand it over, the dimension closed and both Detanyun and Mendacante tumbled through.
Michael watched the scene unfold in front of him and then spoke softly to himself, "So this is the plan of The King."
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*~*~*~*
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AUNT TABBIE’S WINGS
A beautiful story of love, adventure, struggle and redemption
The old Bible, dog eared and fraying, lay closed on the old woman's lap. She painfully flipped the cover open and stared down at the inscription on the first page.
To my beloved Father, Sergeant Major Pell (Bluey) Burns, All my love, Tabbie.
She ran her finger over the inscription. A tear slipped from her eye and plopped onto the back of her gnarled, skinny hand, lying across the open Bible.
The chrome wheelchair was parked hard against a large window, overlooking the garden and her legs were covered by a homemade, knitted, woollen blanket.
As she sat peering out into the warm afternoon sunshine, her praying lips began to slowly move, but making no sound.
Tabbie was sixty, but she looked more like ninety. Rheumatoid arthritis had invaded her body at an early age and now painfully swollen joints made it impossible to do much, but sit and stare. The nurses did all they could to make their favourite charge comfortable and ease the pain, even though she didn't complain.
Tabbie would always enquire into the happenings of the lives of the nurses, her deep, blue eyes full of compassion and wisdom. It wasn't unusual to see a nurse sitting next to Tabbie, sobbing violently, as she emptied her heart to the old woman, basking in the love and hugs of which she seemed to have in volumes.
Everyone lovingly called her Aunt Tabbie.
There was something about Tabbie that drew people to her. A warm smile, a charismatic personality and a deep love for troubled humanity.
She had a word of encouragement for everyone, from the doctor to the ones who emptied the rubbish bins. She was very observant and the nurses wondered whether she could actually see inside a person.
Tabbie's skinny frame worried the doctors. She hadn't been well for many months now and the arthritis was engulfing her, ever faster.
Asked if she was feeling well, she would often reply with a twinkle in her eye, "My times are in the hands of my Father in Heaven."
Tabbie had a busy visitor schedule. Every day, well wishers would engulf her, hoping to bring comfort to the old lady, but in most cases, the visitor would leave receiving the comfort.
The nurses became annoyed, when people visited just to take from the giving woman and use her as sounding board for their own problems. By the end of the day, they could see Tabbie's strength starting to fade. She would become distressed physically, until they forbade any more visitors.
Even after the tired woman was wheeled back to her room, her phone would ring incessantly into the evening. Tabbie, still giving and giving, until Matron put her foot down and the phone was diverted.
Although the night hours were racked with awful pain, that was the time she spent in the presence of Father, learning from Him and sitting at His feet in prayer.
The door to her room was never locked. The nurses checked on her frequently during the night, monitoring her pain level. Even though Tabbie never complained, they knew when the pain level was becoming intolerable. Her sharp, blue eyes would start to cloud over, until a pain killer was administered and Tabbie would drift off into another world.
*~*~*~*
Matron Jillian Miles took her job seriously. She was a large woman with a round face and ran the nursing home like a tight ship. Nothing escaped her notice.
If the nurses did anything wrong, they owned up to it immediately. Not only was she known for being tough, she also had a huge heart and didn't hold a grudge. It was best to come clean with Matron and confess. Some had tried to conceal their guilt and Matron let them have it with both barrels, once they were discovered.
They didn't try it on again.
Matron looked up at the clock on the wall. 9.30 am. Time to do her rounds. The phone on her desk began to ring, calling her attention away from her responsibilities. She sighed and tussled with leaving it to ring, but gave in to her curiosity and answered it.
"Matron Jillian Miles."
"Hello, Matron, this is Senior Constable Ian Palmer."
"Yes, Constable Palmer, what can I do for you?"
"You have helped us out with our Young Offender Programme in the past. I was wondering if we could bring a young, fourteen year old, at-risk female to see Aunt Tabbie. The last time, she facilitated a turnaround in a very tough case and this time, it's even worse."
"Constable Palmer, Tabbie is not well. I understand that she has an immense love for people, but she is in a nursing home for a reason!" Matron was becoming annoyed.
Palmer was feeling the sting of Matron's tongue.
"I understand your concerns, Matron, but the Young Offender Programme is falling helplessly behind and is failing this child. If I don't do something, this child she will self destruct."
Matron could hear the desperation and concern in the young policeman's voice and she became a victim to her own good heartedness.
"I will talk to Tabbie and if she agrees,
then you may bring her here. On one proviso…"
"Name it, Matron," the young constable was about to agree to anything.
"The moment she starts to show signs of distress, you and the child are to leave. Immediately. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Palmer nodded.
*~*~*~*
Two nurses helped Tabbie shower and dress and after she was presentable, Matron entered her room.
"A young policeman has made a request, Tabbie. He has an at-risk, juvenile female, who he is hoping to bring for you to talk to. I will allow him to bring her here, only if you agree."
The two nurses looked up at Matron in surprise, their gazes saying, you are not serious.
Tabbie's blue eyes were brilliant in the morning light. She nodded, as if this meeting had already been arranged and she was expecting the child at any time.
"Of course she can come," Tabbie gasped, as the nurses lowered her into her wheelchair and then placed her woollen blanket over her legs.
*~*~*~*
Ian Palmer walked up to the front door of the nursing home, accompanied by a young girl. The young girl had protested loudly at coming to an old people's home.
Palmer gave her the choice. The old people's home, or back to Greyton, a tough and regimented institution for hardened, juvenile offenders.
The young girl had piercings all over her face and boot-polish-black, short cropped hair. She wore traditional, Greyton dark green, long trousers and shirt. Her face was hard beyond her years.
She didn't trust anyone.
Palmer pulled the door open for the girl and she slipped in, without saying anything. They walked down a polished corridor, his shoes making a clip-clop sound, echoing in the quiet, as he walked.
The girl looked around in horror, at the sights she was taking in. Old people were being wheeled around, slumped or parked in wheel chairs, next to windows, just staring.