

Thank you Allah

Patience

By Khaleel Jooste

Copyright Khaleel Jooste 2018

Smashwords Edition License Notes:

This free e-book may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.
Other books by Khaleel Jooste

The Journey to Success and True Happiness

<https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/840606>

Thank You Allah – Purpose

<https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/764583>

Bismillah

<https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/902550>

Whisperers

<https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/414163>

I seek protection from Satan the outcast and I begin in the name of

Allah,

The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful.

By time

Indeed, mankind is in loss,

Except for those who have believed and done righteous deeds and advised each other to truth and advised each other to patience.

Surah Al-Asr

(The Time) 103:1-3
"And certainly, We shall test you with something of fear, hunger, loss of wealth, lives and fruits, but give glad tidings to as-sabirun (the patient ones)."

Surah Al-Baqarah

(The Cow) 2:155
For Britney & Justin

Your Friend

Khaleel

Not Alone

It begins

LOS ANGELES

City of Angels

Where am I?

This was the first question the young boy asks himself when he comes to. His eyes take a while to adjust to his dark surroundings. There were tall trees around him. He was lying on soft, damp soil. There was a few grass patches here and there. A lot of moss covered the tree trunks. The air was humid. He felt very hot, dazed and very agitated. Mostly he was just confused. He slowly gets up from the ground and steadies himself against a tree trunk. His throbbing headache made it difficult to balance and he nearly slips on the moss and mud. He hunches against the tree trunk. This was easier. His eyes were now better adapted to the darkness. A few feet away from him, he could see a girl lying on the ground. She was wearing a reflective vest and pants and she was covered in mud. He looks at his clothes; he was also dressed in a similar reflective top and pants. What was going on? The uncertainty ate away at him and the tightening around his neck and head became more intense as the dull ache throbs more severely. He looks at the girl. Who could she be? He decides to go on his hands and knees and crawls slowly towards her. In the distance he could hear waves breaking against rock. How did I end up by the ocean? He continued to try and make sense of what was going on. The girl stirs when he is about a foot away from her. He stops and sits up. She stirs more and tries to sit up too.

"Why am I here?" That is the first question she asks. "And who are you? Why did you bring me here? My mom will be very upset that I didn't stay in the sand pit like I promised. You better get me back home now. Who are you? I don't know you." The girl was frantic. She tries to get up, but slips and falls hard into the muddy soil. He wants to help her, but she recovers and moves away from him quickly.

Who am I? The boy thinks to himself. For a brief moment he was more confused than he already was. It was really difficult to think. He puts his hands to his head and closes his eyes. He could feel the headache pounding in his fingertips. It radiated down to his toes. He focuses on his name. For one brief moment, he feels calm and assured. He opens his eyes and stares at the girl. Her bewildered eyes felt strangely familiar. Yes, those beautiful hazel eyes always comforted him and made him feel safe. The girl's muddy face became more recognizable as his eyes adjust more to the light. The first traces of light illuminating her features as dawn sets in. The trees became clearer. His dad called them Buckeye is suddenly what he remembers. But he focusses on the girl. Her face. It was definitely her.

"Kimberly. Is that you?"

For a moment, the girl just stares at the boy. She was questioning herself. Is my name Kimberly? Yes, that was her name. Kimberly Amber-Jane. She lets this fact sink in. Slowly she goes onto her knees too and faces the boy. His curly blond hair looked familiar. His pale blue eyes were definitely known to her too.

"Sean?"

As if the lights just went on in his head, the boy smiles and shakes his head. "Yes, I think, no, you are right. My name is Sean."

She smiles too. She takes in their surroundings more. There was no footpath here. Judging from the marks on their legs, they scratched through the bushes and somehow ended up in this ditch among the trees. The canopy was high up. Strangely though, she distinctly observes, was that there was no noise accept the breaking of waves against rock. No birds and no evidence of any wildlife. This left her feeling more uncomfortable.

"Where are we and how did we end up here, Sean?" She asks. It was clear that she was about to burst out in tears.

"I don't know," responds Sean. He tries his best to control his voice. The cracking in Kimberly's voice left him helpless and unnerved. She was always the strong one, he remembers. He always needed assurance from her; his memory starts to return to him. Until, finally he was certain.

"We have to go, Kimberly. Now!" He gets up and starts to make his way to the clearing above the small hill not too far from where they were. He forces his way through the bushes, scratching his face and body. Kimberly was short on his heels. At the top of the hill, the trees were behind them and streaks of sunlight were visible from the top of the mountain. Just then there is a loud noise and lights are shone on them from above.

Kimberly grabs Sean's hand. She screams as the lights overwhelm them and they both fade into the darkness.

"Why merely have wings if they can't be of any use? Surely they must be able to fly highly, yes?"

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

"Come. Don't be scared."

He waits for her to climb into the hole and takes her hand as she reaches the bottom.

"Smells very soilly and stuffy, but we'll be out soon."

He lets go of her small hand and walks further into the darkness.

"Wait for me!" The little girl shouts.

"I don't think this is a good idea. I'm scared of the dark."

He turns and waits. When he can see her face, he reassures her.

"We'll be in the light soon. Promise. Only this darkly passage and we'll be out of here and this will only be a memory. Vaguely. Come."

He turns and walks. She was short on his heels.

"What's that noise?

"That is only the drip of the rivery space. We'll be there. Soon. Nearly. Don't worry."

He turns and faces her again.

"You'll love it. There's this really cool ringy thingy with mostly only mossy stuff. Can't say what it is for sure, but my handy thingy tells me it might be one of those others we found by the parky space. You remember?"

She moves closer to him, her face just-just visible.

"Do you mean the..."

"Yeah." He interrupts her excitedly.

"Come. You'll see."

"Slow down." She rushes after him.

"Almost there." He reassures her again.

"This way."

They move further down the dark hole and make their way to the barely there light at the other end.

"Careful." He takes her hand and gently helps her to get up.

She emerges.

Slowly.

"Don't worry. You are safe."

She straightens her small body.

Looks around.

"You're right. It looks exactly like the thing we saw the other day."

He smiles excitedly. "Come. Let's sit here."

She rests her small hand on his shoulder.

He helps her to balance.

They both sit down.

The girl traces the vine from the top, to her left, all the way down to the center between them.

"It's pretty."

"Everything is always pretty to you, even if it is ugly." He smirks.

"I do not." She bumps him softly with her right elbow.

"Whatever you say. This is more creepy than pretty."

He traces the vine from the top, his right, all the way down to the center between them."

"You're always scared of everything."

She mocks.

"Am not."

He tries to hide his smile.

She gives him an accusing wink.

"You see. You can't even lie with a straight face. You're the worst liar I have ever met."

"Am not. I can lie better than you."

"I would like to see you try."

She looks through the holes in the bottom. "How high up are we, you think?"

"I can't say. Very highly up."

He looks down too, then at her.

She gets up slowly and moves along the vines that leads from the center to the outside a few feet in front of them.

"Careful. It's not strongly enough. Not to carry your weight."

She turns and laughs softly.

"I'm as light as a feather. You're the one that should be worried."

She gives him a mocking glance, smiles and moves further along the vine.

He gets up slowly, holds onto the vine to his right and moves cautiously along the edge.

"Please, be careful. I don't think this is such a great idea. I shouldn't have brought you here."

"You should have thought of that before you made me walk through that dark tunnel. You know I don't like dark places."

He moves back. "I'll wait for you here. You can tell me what you see." Sweat slowly runs down his forehead and his breathing changes.

"Oh no you don't, mister. You brought me here, so you're coming with me."

He swallows hard. "I didn't think this through. I... I don't like highly places." His words were barely audible. He sweats more.

"How many times have I told you to speak up? Stop swallowing your words. You don't have to be nervous around me." She turns and faces him, balancing on the thin vine she was standing on.

"What did you say?" She waits.

Slowly he says. "I'm afraid of highly places."

She looks down. The hole in the center was big enough to swallow them both. Whole. She makes her way back to where he was, confidently clutching the side of the vines that closed in from the sides.

She stretches her hand towards him.

"Take my hand. Don't be scared. I'll keep you safe. Promise. Take my hand." She reaches out to him. "Don't be scared. I won't let go. We'll be safe."

Hesitantly he moves along the side of the vine, closer to her. He takes her hand. Gently at first, then he grips it tight. She could feel the shivers. He wasn't faking it.

He was really scared.

"Hey, you are safe. I promise. Nothing is going to happen to us." She starts to move.

"Slowly, please. Highly places make me very queasy. Really." She slows down and waits for him to make his way to where she was standing at the edge.

When he was right next to her, she puts her arm around his waist and gives him a reassuring smile. Her eyes comfort him. They always do. That is all he knows.

He smiles too.

"Pretty isn't it." She takes it all in.

"Honestly." He peeks but doesn't dare to move forward or look down.

She puts her hand out and stretches her arm into the air.

"Careful. We are mostly not sure what they are really. Surely you must be careful."

"Stop worrying so. It seems harmless."

He shakes his head. "Seemly, yes. Surely, no. Careful."

She shakes her head. "Do you think we should climb over and jump?" She looks down. "It seems almost like it will catch us. Don't you agree?" She stares at him excitedly.

"Doubtedly."

"Come on. Maybe we'll see those things again."

"Like at the parky space?"

"Yeah. Exactly."

"But that was downly, not so highly. I don't think they come near highly places. I was wrongly thinking we might find something here."

She sighs. "I'm sure there is more."

He could see that she wanted to go ahead and look. She was always curious, never scared. He enjoyed that about her. He didn't want to disappoint her. "Mostly, I don't want to, but surely, if you don't let go, we can go. So long as we proceed safely. Promise me."

"Definitely." She smiles excitedly and starts to climb onto the top of the vine thing.

"Together."

He breathes deep. Slowly climbs up and balances himself next to her.

"Ready?" She takes in his eyes.

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

"Positively not." He looks down.

She looks down too.

"Highly. We really are highly up."

She agrees and takes his hand. They both breathe in deeply.

"Safely, yes?"

She nods. "Always."

He nods too. "Okay."

They look at each other.

Then they both jump.

ك

"Pretty, aren't they?" The girl could barely hide her excitement. Her bright, hazel eyes were fixed on the things that surrounded them, her pupils large.

"Positively." He remains cautious, but his sky-blue eyes were brilliant and were totally enchanted too.

They continue further ahead.

"You glad we came?"

He nods. "Honestly. Yes."

"What are they do you think?"

He shakes his head. "I can't surely say."

They move to the edge of the pinkish fluffy thing they were standing on.

"Ready?" She winks at him encouragingly.

"Highly still, but surely, yes."

They take each other's hand and jump to the next ball of pink fluff in the sky.

Bouncily they land on it and catch their breath.

"Look!" The little girl shouts excitedly.

"Wordy, what are they?"

"I have never seen things like that. So pretty."

He smiles shyly. "Rightly you are. Positively pretty indeedy."

The giant beings were gathered in circular formation all around where the pink fluffy balls seemed to end.

"How many are they do you think?"

"Can't say surely, but thousands, definitely."

They float past the ones to their right.

The things they were staring at seemed to be on guard; facing the empty sky, with their backs to the girl and boy.

The girl and boy stand towards the edge of the bouncy pink fluff.

"Almost there."

"Let's go. I am ready."

They jump and land on the next ball of pink fluff. The boy is immediately on his feet and helps her up. "Those are wingy thingies, I tell you."

They both stare at the things that seemed to be prostrating in the air.

Some had their faces right into the clouds, giving the appearance that they were on their knees and face flat on the cloud.

The others were merely bowing.

"Are they praying you think?" The little girl asks him enquiringly.

He admires her curious eyes.

"I can't be sure, Pretty, maybe."

They focus on the one that was standing to the front.

"Wow."

"Yes, wow, exactly."

"How many do you think there are?"

She points at the giant wings on its back. They seemed to span the entire length of the pink balls of fluff in the air.

"A few hundred, surely."

"Many wings for one creature. Do you think it can fly with them?"

"Why merely have wings if they can't be of any use? Surely they must be able to fly highly, yes?"

They both jump to the next ball of pink fluff.

"Almost there!"
Chapter one

Christmas

William

25 December 2013

01:10

Nothing has changed.

Not a single thing. A strange odor hung in the air. William doubted his own senses, just as he doubted everything since that terrible night. That night that everything did change. The odor was a mixture of rotten food and stuffy wet clothes. He steps into the house and closes the foyer door behind him.

He was about to take off his tan penny loafers, but decides against it.

Why bother?

He walks down the long passage and takes a left. The dining table was exactly as they left it, half his last meal: salmon, butterflied shrimp. He shakes his head. Maria would never believe it.

It's a crowd pleaser... there are never any left overs...

A wine glass with the last of the Clairette Blanche stood on the edge of the table. He was supposed to save it for a special occasion. That was as special as any. The stain on the table cloth reminded him of the stain he would rather forget. The source of the foul smell does not seem to be coming from here. He leaves the dining room and heads further down the passage. Cautiously, he enters the main bedroom.

Still he can't bring himself to switch on any of the lights.

He sits down on the edge of the bed and picks up the pink slipper that lay by itself on the thick, Persian carpet.

He has to pry the slipper loose.

The sticky stain had dried.

Did you remember to take out the trash?

That is the last thing he remembers she said.

He stares at the dark stain on the carpet.

Will, I... love...

He throws the slipper hard against the wall. It bounces off the nightstand that stood by the swing mirror that was the center piece of the huge bedroom.

He gets off the bed and heads to the kitchen straight for the bin. It was empty. The smell was stronger here in the kitchen.

He really could not put his finger on the source of the revolting stench.

Slowly he walks to the fridge. He opens the door slowly. The soft light lights up the dark kitchen. She had the light specially put in. Said the pink gave the food a different color. She found it more appetizing.

Since...

Please, Will, don't forget.

Something about her changed. That was something he couldn't deny. Maria never noticed it, but he did.

Will, I'm still... me.

Was she?

He shakes his head.

Solitary tear rolls down his left cheek.

Why?

Those hate filled words.

Why?

If she was still there, she would never.

Will, I'd never do anything to hurt you.

No.

That was not her.

She was already gone.

He wipes his face, closes the fridge door and heads down the passage into Maria's room.

The Children

#Purpose

#TheChildrem

"They are never alone,' she hands him a picture, "remember that."

He takes the picture from her.

"Look, there by the vendor. Do you see?" She points with her finger.

"Who's the girl?" He frowns as he puts his hand to his mouth and runs his finger all along his moustache.

"Don't know. Must be someone important. Most pictures are of her."

She takes a sip of her coconut drink, stands up, running her fingers through her hair.

"What are we going to do?" She sounds anxious.

"Don't know." He swallows hard and throws himself back onto the bed.

"We can't stay cooped up in here forever." She walks to the window, opens it slightly and peeks through the small opening. The rain had stopped. There were still many clouds in the sky. It was nearly sun set. The streets were all deserted.

She turns and faces him.

"William, I refuse to live like a prisoner in my own house." She puts her hands on her hips. She was wearing pants and a grey-blue jersey.

"I know, honey, but what do you propose we do?" He gets up and stands in front of her and takes her face in both his hands.

She puts her hands on his and returns his worried gaze.

"I refuse to be taken again. Do you hear me? I refuse. I'd rather die." She embraces him.

"No one's going to be taken and no one is going to die. Don't talk like that." He kisses her forehead and leads her back to the bed.

"What about Maria? Should we tell her?"

"No, Michelle, we can't. She'd only be in danger. Best she stays in the dark about this. We simply can't risk it." He implores her.

"But, William. She has a right to know. This involves her too you know." She gets off the bed and starts pacing with her finger in her mouth. She tries to bite whatever nail is still left. Her fingers are bloody at the edges.

"I know, but we simply can't risk it."

"I'm sure they're already watching her."

"They probably are, but she doesn't need to know that."

"But when, William? She is in danger." Michelle returns to the bed. Sits down and puts her left hand on his knee.

"Soon. I promise. But we need more information first." He squeezes her hand.

"I hope you know what you are doing. Can he be trusted?"

"What other choice do we have?" He searches her face. Her left eye twitches more than it used to. He notices an involuntary tremor of her whole head as well.

He is worried.

"I guess you're right." She shakes her head and runs her fingers through her dark hair.

"We'll be okay, sweetheart. We should not lose faith." He takes her hand in his and kisses it.

"Faith is all we have, right?" She leans her head against his shoulder. "To think I never really believed. In God, you know. Only the Source. But now, how can I doubt in His existence."

She leans harder into him.

"Maria always believed. I really do not know where she got that from."

William embraces his wife assuredly.

"May God help us... I wish... I wish we had another place."

She looks into his eyes.

"Merry Christmas, Will. I'm glad you're here... with me."

"Me too, babe. Merry Christmas."

He kisses her lightly on her forehead.

Michelle

2013

One month before Christmas

Michelle focuses on the drawing of the cat in her studio.

"My dear old, Jack. What arrrre we to do?"

She gently strokes her fingers across the pencil drawing and brings her index finger to rest on the cat's forehead.

"It has been an eye opening few weeks. We should proceed with caution, especially now with Christmas not too far away. The rituals are sure to be happening more so this time."

She shakes her head.

"To think, I always thought it was all just myths. I mean, we both know this holiday is a mere fabrication, a means to make money from devoted believers, and yes, perhaps it is not so bad to have a season of giving, to make up for the rest of the year when everyone is driven by their own selfish desires. But I had it wrong about the truth."

She traces the circles in the cat's left eye.

"The rituals are in fact not a myth, but very real. I thought these conspiracy theorists were really off, but it all points to one truth. There are sacrifices and they are to appease these deities. How can I doubt that when I experienced one, first hand? I am really shaken, old Jack. This is beyond anything I could ever have imagined. And you know I don't get rattled easily." She grasps the amethyst crystal around her neck between her thumb and index fingers and says something under her breathe.

She closes her eyes and remains quiet like that for few seconds. With deep breathes, she opens her eyes and searches the room.

"There you are, dear friend. What kept you?" She makes her way across the soft, white carpet and stops next to the wall with all the books.

There, on the cap of the small step ladder, was Jack.

It only had the appearance of a cat, but that is where the similarities ended.

It was more like it was a blue purple glimmer. You could see right through the cat. Its right eye had lots of vertical stripes and the left eye had lots of circles in circles. It was exactly as they appeared in the pencil drawing of the cat.

"What are we to make of all of this, Jack?" Michelle's voice was warmer and huskier than usual. It was as if the cat brought out something in her that others couldn't.

The cat steps gracefully down the steps, off the ladder and walks along the bookshelf. The books were ordered alphabetically and according to genre, mostly astrology, astronomy, astral projection, clairvoyance, the arts, botany, mineralogy, and other books related to Michelle's craft. The cat stops in front of the category related to divination.

Michelle reaches for the old, leather bound book and stares at Jack.

"I don't know, dear. I am not up to letting myself become vulnerable again. Last time things didn't turn out too well. Got a bit of a nasty shock I am afraid, my throat is still paying for it." She rubs the soft part of her throat and makes her way to the glass table. She puts the book down and pours herself a glass of water.

As she drinks that, she rubs the crystal ball on the table.

"I am tempted to take a glimpse, Jack. The thirst has never been as unquenchable as it is right now." She rubs the crystal ball with more vigor.

Jack gracefully jumps onto the glass table and twirls around the crystal ball. As it twirls, something inside the crystal seems to mimic the cat's circular movements.

"No, Jack. I can't. You know it is no good. What is the point of seeing, when what we see cannot be undone?"

The cat stops twirling and goes to rest its paw on the book of divination.

Michelle exhales softly.

"No, Jack. I can't. I am not strong enough against that, that thing. It is malevolent."

She shudders and the glass slips from her hands and clangs hard onto the glass surface.

Michelle steadies herself and slowly heads to the couch. She sits down and focusses on Jack.

"What to do, old friend? What to do?"

Jack leaps off the table.

The blue purple glimmer a stream of light bouncing off the table, through the air and onto the white carpet. It heads to the entrance of the room as Jack rushes towards the door and the blue purple glimmer dissipates as the cat seems to disappear into the door.

Michelle hesitates.

Jack has never taken her outside her studio, never when they were at home, but today he did. Dare she follow him? Where was he going to take her?

Michelle considers this for a few seconds.

"Well, anything is better than sitting around in the darkness of confusion and no hope of unburdening." She clears her throat.

Slowly she gets off the couch, stares at the strange drawing of Jack against the wall.

"Ok, Jack. I'm game. Where are we going?"

She grabs her very large embroidered shawl and rushes out the door.

On the glass table, inside the crystal ball, a dark figure disappears into a thick cloud of black smoke.

قط

Michelle heads into the apartment building and follows Jack up the stairs. It stops on the first floor and waits for Michelle to catch up.

"What is it that you want me to see?" She asks the cat as she steps into the long corridor.

Jack gracefully walks towards the door right in the middle of the hallway to the left. It waits for Michelle.

Michelle stands outside the door and runs her hands across the peeling paint.

"What answers lay hidden beyond these walls I wonder, old friend. What secrets have you uncovered?"

The cat disappears through the door.

Hesitantly Michelle grabs the brass door handle and turns the knob. The door opens with a slight creak.

Slowly Michelle steps inside.

The space was empty.

She closes the door behind her and steps into the open plan living area.

"It is a bit stuffy, but quite nice. Wonder who it belongs to?" Michelle steps about the room and takes it all in.

Jack heads to the large window that covered most of the wall. It jumps onto the window sill and rubs its paw against the glass.

"What is it, Jack? What do you wish to show me?" Michelle quickly makes her way to the cat and stares out of the window.

Below was a small garden with a big tree and wooden bench.

At first it means nothing to Michelle, but just as she was about to move away, a girl appears and goes to sit on the bench. She was with a ginger cat.

She looked strangely familiar, as if Michelle had seen her many times before. She was however not sure where.

"Who is that girl, Jack? Is she the reason you brought me here, dear?" Michelle strokes the cat. Her hands creating fluid like motions of the blue purple glimmer.

A strange noise came from the cat. Ordinarily one would say the cat was purring, but this was more a vibration.

They continue to watch the girl with the cat. A boy with his hoodie up joins the girl and takes a seat next to her. He didn't look familiar at all. He wore glasses and was a bit scrawny. Michelle was confused by his ambiguous looks and tan skin.

She tries to peer more through the dirty window, as she leans forward, she places her hands flat on the sill.

Soon as she does that she gets a big fright as something drops onto the floor and bounces hard several times on the tile floor.

When she recovers from the shock, she turns and watches the silver ball come to a standstill right in the center of the room.

Michelle goes and picks it up and gives it a gentle rub.

She found it strangely relaxing.

With it in hand, she heads back to the window.

To her disappointment, the girl with the ginger cat and the boy were gone.

"I wonder," says Michelle as she continues to stroke Jack.

#Caution #Forbidden

#Caution

#Forbidden

"I don't really do these kind of readings anymore. You must understand," Michelle gestures for the widow to enter.

The room was exactly as she found it that first time when she came there with Jack, except for the half-moon table right in the center of the main room and the two swingasan chairs suspended from the thick beams running along the ceiling.

The portrait of Jack was hanging on the wall.

Michelle was dressed in an elegant royal blue sari with bold floral prints. Her hair was tied in a bun on top of her head; she wore honey leather, gladiator sandals.

"I'm sorry, you see, but you are my last hope, you see." The middle aged woman was dressed in navy, pinstripe, wide leg pants and an ivory, cable knit turtleneck. Her brunette hair was unkempt on her head. She clutched to her purse as she followed Michelle to the table.

"I need to know, you see, I am sorry, but I don't know who else to turn to, you see?" She takes a seat in the swingasan chair, immediately the room is filled with the tapping of her kitten heels on the tiled floor.

"I'm so sorry to force you into this, you see, but I need to know if he left any message for me, you see. His death was so sudden, you see, I have not had time to process any of it, you see. We were," she starts to sob, "I'm sorry," she grabs a handful of the tissues on the table.

"Not to worry, dear." Michelle takes her seat opposite the woman.

"I will help you, do not distress." She breathes in deeply and focusses on the woman.

"I will need you to calm down. Do your best not to cry.

That is not useful during these encounters. We need you in a receptive, open, more relaxed state." She breathes in deeply and starts to gesture the in and out movement with her hand.

Slowly the woman mimics her, the tapping of her heels stop as her chair gently starts to sway from left to right, in sync with Michelle's.

"I want you to focus on your husband, what wa, is, his name, dear?" Michelle breathes in and out.

"Donald." She sobs less and wipes her nose. "I used to call him, Donny, you see." She manages a smile.

"Focus on Donny and just relax. I project love towards you, the chair projects love towards you, the Source is love and it projects love towards you, close your eyes and just breathe deeply. Exhale slowly. That is it dear, just breathe and relax."

The widow relaxes more, she lets go of her purse in her lap and just lets her arms relax to her side, her hands on her knees.

"During the encounter, do not address whoever is here directly, I am the medium, the link between them and you, direct all questions to me only. Breathe in and out.

She nods in understanding.

"Well, dear. Let's begin, shall we. We embark on this journey with love and peace, the Source is love and peace," she sits up in her chair and opens her eyes and focusses on the widow. The widow does the same, her bewildered hazel eyes fixed on Michelle's.

"Your purse, it was a gift, an anniversary gift, but not your anniversary. Cathy, Catherine is the name that I am getting. Does this name mean anything to you, a sister, maybe his sister?"

"Yes, yes, yes, you see, Catherine is Donny's youngest sister, he called her Cathy. She received the purse as a gift, you see, but she didn't like it, you see, small, old fashioned can't throw it over her shoulder she said, you see, but perfect for me who likes such kind of things, you see. She was right of course, you see." The widow picks up the purse and gently strokes the stitches.

"Donny, didn't like you using it though, careless, irresponsible. Yes, absentminded."

The widow inhales astonished.

"He used to tease that I have dementia, you see, early onset of Alzheimer's, I was such a cluts, you see. Misplaced things, forgot things in the shop, you see. Lost a lot a money once, you see. So Donny didn't like me havin' a purse that was so loose, you see.

He would prefer I wear a fanny pack, you see, but I would rather die than be seen with that atrocity around my shapely waist, you see." She clears her throat.

"They are ghastly, right." Michelle smiles her usual warm smile.

The widow relaxes and focuses on Michelle again.

"I am not sure what I am seeing dear, but it looks like a duck, maybe a goose, some sort of white bird. It's not real though, rather more in a cabinet or on a shelf. No, definitely inside a dark, I want to say maroon mahogany cabinet. Not big, about yea high. The bird is a porcelain ornament; very delicate and detailed, the bird seems almost trapped inside the porcelain.

The widow gasps out loud. "Donald the duck, you see, it was an inside joke, you see. It was me actually who got him the porcelain duck when went on holiday one summer before our kids arrived. That was in Wisconsin, you see. It was a fun trip. Donny spoiled me rotten, you see. I got that duck after we visited Devil's lake. I haven't forgotten one bit of it, you see."

She closes her eyes and reminisces.

"Sounds lovely, dear. The Apostle Islands was part of your holiday, you both got sick, stomach flu, terrible thing to happen on a holiday."

"How did you, you see. Is it my Donny? Is he telling you these things or are you seeing it, you see?" She sits up in her chair, planting her feet firmly on the floor. Now and then her kitten heels tap on the tiles.

"Donny wasn't very talkative; he would mostly sit around and be lost in his own thoughts; that is what I see. You annoyed him a lot." Michelle focusses on the widow.

"You see, it did bother me, you see. Donny was more a thinker, introverted; I more a feely type. We had many... disagreements, you see. I would say you don't love me, you see. He would say 'I thought this house, your car, your expensive clothes and shoes were evidence of my love for you, Leigh-Anne. All the appointments I make for you to have your hair done, your facials, your hands and feet'. You see, that was Donny. He didn't say much but rather expressed his feelings in this way. But, you see, he soon learned I need to hear these things, you see, so he made a note in his diary to tell me he loved me and hugged me every day. It was robotic at first, you see, but later it was natural and he didn't need reminding from his diary anymore, you see."

"Clashes of the personalities is a big adjustment in the beginning of any relationship, especially when you live together, Donny wasn't prepared for this. It took him several years before he was truly at ease."

"Yes, you see, that is true. I wish now, you see, that I was less clingy, less needy and less accusatory, you see. I knew he loved me, I was just insecure, you see. I hope, you see, he knew that at least." She sobs softly and wipes the tears from her eyes.

"I don't feel any resentment about anything. All I get is happiness, gratitude. Donny was at peace, contented with everything. He was happy with you."

Leigh-Ann, sobs more.

"I feel he is moving away. He is leaving." Michelle closes her eyes and breathes in deeply.

"No, please, you see, I need to know, you see!" Leigh-Ann shrills and starts sobbing uncontrollably.

"Remember to breathe. Control your breathing. In and out." Michelle starts gesturing with her right hand.

Leigh-Ann blows her nose, and sobs less as she controls her breathing.

"Donny says that you need not worry about the cat. It was not your fault. Cats are like that, especially males. They leave the house and well, 'need to take care of business.'"

"Take care of business, that was Donny, yes, you see." Leigh-Ann closes her eyes and tries hard not to cry.

"He left you a surprise. He knew he was going to leave, he did. It is with the duck inside the cupboard. The reason you haven't found it is because you didn't look inside the secret compartment that is located in the soft panel on the right, inside the cupboard."

"Really? Donny never told me of no secret compartment." She looks at Michelle surprised.

"Donny loves you. Take that to heart and be at peace. He wants you to be happy, especially now with Finn."

Leigh-Ann closes her eyes and shakes her head. She opens her eyes and almost ashamedly meets Michelle's. She wants to speak, but Michelle says. "No need, dear. Be happy with Finn. No need to explain. Just stop spending your money on those con artists that ask you to pay money into their account and lies to you that Donny is sitting with you in the car, watching you. They only prey on your vulnerability. Promise me this will be your last time to seek for things in the beyond. Live here, now, with Finn." Michelle slowly gets off her chair and starts making her way to the door.

"The Source is love and it wants you to be happy. Fill your mind with good things, you decide whether you are living in a prison or you fly free in the meadows in your head. Be good to yourself. Love yourself." Michelle opens the door and steps outside and waits for the widow to join her.

"You see, how can I ever thank you enough?" The widow removes the clasp of her purse.

"There is no need for that." Michelle takes the widow's hand, pulls her close and gives her a hug.

"You take care, Leigh-Ann." She holds her for a moment. Leigh-Ann holds her tightly too.

She then steps back, smiles and whispers "thank you" as she turns and hurry's down the passage.

Just as Michelle turns to enter the room, she sees the young man she saw the first day she was brought to this building by Jack; the ambiguous looking man with the olive skin. He was wearing the same grey hoodie. He was staring at her from the end of the hallway.

Soon as he notices her awareness of him, he pulls his hoodie tighter and disappears down the stairs.

Michelle felt a strange sense of familiarity, all wrapped in a deep sense of unease. Has she met this young man before? Something in her gut told her she did, but she swore on Jack's life that she didn't know where.

Was he the young man that was with the mysterious young woman the first day Jack brought her to this apartment?

It must be him.

Why is that young woman so familiar and why does the young man have such an effect on her?

Feeling utterly unattached to herself, Michelle goes into the room and gently closes the door behind her.

Kimberly

Amber-Jane

#Heartbreaker

#TheButterfly

25 December 2013

09:13

She opens the door.

Tap-tap, tap-tap.

The sound her cane makes on the tiles as she quickly finds her way to the corner of the room. She stops at the square desk and scans it with her hand quick.

Stapler.

Empty glass.

Sheets wrapped in plastic.

Satisfied, she turns and tap-taps her way to the piano that was more in the center of the room. She starts playing. A Christmas tune. Not happy with the noise the piano makes, she gets up and feels her way to the back of the piano. As she flips open the cover, she is startled by a faint, purple streak that catches the corner of her eye. She looks slowly to her right.

It throbs.

A steady beat.

Slowly she reaches out towards it; her hand shaky as she is almost able to touch it.

"Lord have mercy!" Shouts the janitor as the lights go on in the room.

"Kimberly! How many times have I told you not to walk around in the dark!?" He holds his hand to his chest as he gasps for air.

"Nearly gave me a heart attack!" He breathes in deep.

She looks in the janitor's direction, but quickly back to where the purple throb was. Nothing. She sighs. Shudders a bit, but soon gets a grip and focuses her attention on the janitor.

"Christmas too, hu? You must really love your wife." She smiles, feels for her cane and tap-taps her way to him.

"Merry Christmas, Bob." She opens her arms.

He embraces her.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Angel-face. Dare I say dear," he takes her hand and looks her up and down, "you look ravishing. If Sarah didn't have such a dog's nose, I'd give you a wet one."

He looks at her with a grin.

"Pity you never put up the Christmas decorations. Could have had yourself a freebie." She tap-taps her way back to the desk in the corner, feels for her chair and sits down.

"All in good Christmas cheer." She smiles.

"You're only kidding, right?" His voice filled with regret.

She looks at him. Places her elbows square on the desk.

"I do remember some mistletoe with the tree trimmings." She blows him a seductive kiss.

"Kimberly Amber-Jane, if your mother could see you..." he puts his right hand to his mouth and goes completely red in his face. After what seems like forever, he takes his hand away; breathes in deeply. He reaches for his inhaler and takes a few puffs.

She looks up, gets up and tap-taps her way to him.

Slowly she reaches for his face. He tries to control his wheezing and looks her in the eyes, deep creases on his forehead.

"Don't feel bad, Bob." She runs her hand across his left cheek. Softly over his moustache and gently cups his chin.

"If mom could see me, she would tell me I was being a very naughty princess." She steps forward and slowly, very lightly, kisses him on his right cheek.

"That will have to do." She smiles and walks past him into the hallway.

"Please put up a few decorations. I would really like the children to experience the Christmas cheer. The piano needs tuning too."

"You really are a perfectionist. I tuned it yesterday." He puts down his tools and takes another puff from his inhaler.

"Sounds terrible. Perhaps I should hire a professional," she winks and starts walking away.

"Kimberly Amber-Jane! On my sweet Sarah's life, there's nothing wrong with my tuning skills! Your ears are simply waaaaaaaay too sharp."

"Perhaps you're going deaf. Don't worry, you're ancient, it happens." She tap-taps further down the hallway.

"Still got my charm though. What other antique could manage a kiss from a lovely lady as yourself?"

"Love you too, Bob. Get home to Sarah. It's Christmas."

"Gotcha, Angel-face. See you tonight. I'll get to the piano immediately." He picks up his tools and closes the door.

ﻫ

I do miss Christmas, Mr B."

She strokes the alley cat as it lies with its legs sprawled in the air on her waist.

"Like when Nana was still alive." She rubs the cat's tummy. It seems to be fast asleep, purring softly. She was sitting outside the theatre.

"She used to buy us all new Sunday bests, especially for Christmas." She sighs, strokes a few strands from the corner of her mouth; the light breeze, gently playing with her long, brunette hair. Her brown eyes stare off into space. They were more a light hazel with a dark circle all along the edge of the irises. If it wasn't for the cane, one would never say that she was completely blind. The sound of the water fountain relaxes her.

"We used to go around the neighborhood and wish everyone a Merry Christmas, almost like trick or treat on Halloween. We got bags and bags of sweets and candy. Those were good times." She kisses the cat on its forehead.

"That was way before the accident," she sighs deeply, stops rubbing the stray's tummy and turns it around. It gives a weak meow, curls up in her lap and continues to sleep.

"Now it's only you and I, Mr B."

Kimberly laughs softly.

She looks over to her left and is startled by the blue glow that seems to be coming from the tree to the left of the bench she was seated at. She stares at it in wonder. It does the same throbbing thing the purple streak made in the practice room.

"Can you see that, Mr B?" She picks the cat off her lap and puts it on the bench, to her right; her eyes never leaving the blue glow that was now clearly visible. It slowly emerges more and more from behind the tree. She breathes shallower and restricts her movements.

"Is someone there?" She utters softly.

She waits.

No answer. Only the soft rustling of the water as it runs over the small rocks, the sound of the light breeze through the trees.

"Is someone there?" She asks again. She swallows hard and puts her hand to her mouth. The blue glow starts changing to purple.

This time there is more; a sound that accompanies the throbs perfectly. Kimberly seems to hear it clearly in her ear.

Beating.

Faintly.

An erratic beat.

It was like that of an irregular heartbeat.

"Are you hurt," she asks worried as she rises to her feet and slowly starts moving towards it. Her left hand clutches her short, black dress; her right hand shakes, as she extends her arm towards the throbbing pulse. It seems to glow brighter as she gets closer to it. The beating gets louder too, but this time it is more regular; it seems to beat stronger. She reaches, inhales deeper and steadies her hand more as she touches it.

Kimberly gasps out loud.

"You practicing for tonight's show, Angel-face?" He coughs and walks towards her.

"What's with all the theatrics? Dancing with a ghost?" He chuckles as he picks up the cat and starts dancing with it, making circles around her.

Kimberly, still in a state of shock, looks to the spot where her hand touched it.

Nothing. It was gone. She looks at her hand, still not sure what just happened.

Giving up, she listens. She slowly moves in the direction she hears him. Swings her hand and softly hits his big belly. It protrudes from the front of his very paisley shirt.

"Ah, you got me, again."

He takes her hand, kisses it softly, and then gently guides her back to the bench. He drops the stray. It stretches, meows loudly and then disappears between the lavender bushes behind the bench.

Bob helps Kimberly take a seat and takes a seat next to her.

"You okay there, Princess?" He reaches out a comforting hand; rests it on her shoulder.

"You look like you saw a ghost. Your face is all pale." He rubs her cheek, worry in his voice as he asks.

"Is it the show tonight? Are you worried something will go wrong like last time?"

Kimberly looks to her left, in the direction of the tree. She listens intently, focusing on all the sounds around her. Slowly she starts filtering them out; the fountain water, the wind that seems to pick up more, but that was it. There was no more beat. No more of the blue-purple throb. Disappointed, she turns her head and faces Bob.

"No. Only reminiscing. Mr B was keeping me company." She smiles. "Got startled by something. Guess it was a ghost." She looks back into space.

"You never know, perhaps it's the ghosts of Christmas past, paying you a visit. Cautioning you about your show tonight." He regrets his words immediately.

"They can rest assured that nothing will go wrong. Last time was..." She doesn't finish. Exhales loudly and sighs.

"An accident. That's all." He smiles.

"Yes, that is what it was. An accident." She smiles and pats him on his knee.

"I checked everything. There should be no reason for concern. Come tonight, everyone will have a great time. You watch and see."

"I'll do my best not to bat my eyes too much," she laughs loudly, "wouldn't want to miss a thing."

"That's my girl." He squeezes her hand.

"Tonight will be a night to remember. You'll see."

"Promise?"

"I promise." He kisses her hand.

She smiles and then asks.

"Why haven't you left yet? I must have been out here at least two hours."

"Was about to leave when I saw you dancing with your mystery man. Got me jealous, you know. Had to come and make sure he knows who he needs to speak to first."

"Mom would be so proud."

He looks at her. Smiles confused.

"Go, Bob. Be with Sarah. I am fine. Thanks for all your help. I am sure tonight is going to be spectacular."

"Alrighty, my dear. You be sure to get some rest. Don't be playing the piano the whole day long; again. Rest. Okay."

"Sure, dad. Good talking to ya."

"Always a pleasure, Angel-face." He stares at her a while. Gently squeezes her shoulder and then gets up and leaves.

She stares back at the tree, still wondering what it could have been.

ﻥ

12:00

"Thank you, again, Drew, for coming to help me. I know you have many other things on your plate." Kimberly smiles as she stares out in front of her. She was standing by the piano, nervously clutching her cane.

"I wouldn't miss an opportunity to hear you play the piano for anythin' in this world, Kimberly. You're music moves me. It's hauntin'ly mesmerizin'. Just beautiful." Drew smiles his signature enamel smile and fixes his hair.

"If it is haunting then I am not too sure. Maybe it will scare the children?" Kimberly jokes, but she still nervously clutches to her cane.

"They'll love it and they will love you more. Just look at all of them admirin' you. All eyes are on you." Drew shakes his head as he realizes what a stupid thing he said.

"Sorry, Kimberly, I didn't mean to, I'm such a nut." He knocks his head with his right knuckles a few times.

"Thank goodness I'm as blind as a bat. Not sure what I would do if I saw them eyeballing me." Kimberly helps Drew to relax. "I'm sure they are staring at you, Mr Celebrity." Kimberly jokes more.

"I doubt they even know me." Drew scans the hall. Most of the seats were filled with a last few open. A few children were fooling around with the Christmas decorations at the door.

"The house is almost full. Are you ready to go home?" Drew gives Kimberly a little nudge.

"I am as ready as I will ever be." Kimberly takes a deep breath.

"You'll do great, don't be nervous. You can play the piano with your eyes closed." Again Drew knocks his knuckles to his head.

"Douchebag is the word you are lookin' for," he says as he nudges her shoulder again.

"You're not. Thoughtful is the word that comes to my mind." Kimberly nudges him back.

Drew smiles.

"Speakin' of thoughtful, I got you a special gift, shawty. It is sort of a birthday gift, in case I forget. I am very forgetful lately." Drew shakes his head.

"But my birthday is months away." Kimberly was surprised, but intrigued. She puts her cane to the side of the piano and runs her fingers through her dark, brunette hair.

"I know, July, but this is a Christmas gift too." Drew smiles wide.

He puts the flower pot on top of the lid of the piano.

"It's a lily, Arabian knight. I thought you would like it. It smells heavenly, I thought that is probably the best kind of flower, for, you know, you. It also attracts a lot of butterflies. I think all girls like butterflies, right?"

"We do. I do remember that butterflies are really pretty, but I haven't seen one for quite a while. Arabian knight? Sounds intriguing. Tell me more?"

"I don't know much about flowers, but this one reminded me of you. It has deep red, mahogany like, recurved petals, that all with these very nice gold speckles. It has a strong presence, though vulnerable. I just thought, I don't know. They normally bloom in spring, so just in time for your birthday." Drew takes Kimberly's hand and puts it on the whorled leaves.

"Merry Christmas, Kimberly." Drew leans forward and lightly kisses Kimberly's hand.

A few of the children in the crowd start to cheer and clap their hands.

Kimberly blushes and turns.

"Thank you, Drew. I didn't expect, thank you. It means a lot that you thought of me. Such a, nice, gift, I hope I don't forget to water it."

"That is the thoughtful part, shawty. I got Peter-John to make you this nifty soil moisture meter that reminds you when the plant needs water. Before the soil gets too dry, it will alert you. Dude's so crazy, he can make it say 'Shawty, the plant needs water', or it can play you a pleasant tune or just beep a few times."

"Wow! That is really thoughtful. Thank you to you both. I don't know what to say." Kimberly puts her right hand to her mouth.

"Don't mention it," says Drew as he turns and faces the children. "I think we should get started, the crowd is waitin' in eager anticipation. They know they are in for a rare treat this afternoon. All the children from Good Hope have arrived too. Maryam, right?" Drew helps Kimberly with her cane.

"Yes, Peter-John did mention that her name is Maryam. She runs the home all on her own. Muslim." Kimberly straightens up and breaths in deep. "Well, Drew, it is now or never. Let's get started. I am ready."

Drew shakes his head in agreement and straightens up too. He clears his throat.

"A very Happy Christmas to you all."

Bones

12:15

The room is dark.

The paraffin lamp was the only source of light. He throws his back-pack onto the floor and immediately heads to his dinosaur computer and switches it on.

While he waits for it to boot up, he fiddles in his back-pack and removes a few Polaroids from a plastic pouch. He scans through the pictures, finds what he's looking for, removes a piece of paper from the back-pack and reads.

Name: Kimberly Amber-Jane

Last name: UNKNOWN

Location: UNKNOWN

Age: UNKNOWN

Medical report: Irreparable damage to both eyes.

Other: Possible match

He looks at the headshot at the top of the page. The face matches the picture. It must be her.

"Blind?" He looks confused. "Can it be?" He shakes his head.

The computer is finally done booting up. He gets onto the web and logs into his email account. While he waits for the new mail from his brother to open up, he clears the maps off the makeshift table; cardboard on a few bricks.

The sweat irritates his eyes. He scans the room. In the corner by the door he gets the fan, the one his brother always made sure to bring with whenever they had to move. That was often.

They were everywhere.

The fan is weak, but it does bring some relief from the hot, humid air.

He sits on the concrete floor of the square room and wipes the sweat from his forehead as he starts reading his brother's email.

Bro

I miss you.

I hope that peace surrounds you and is within you, now, especially.

I hope you are alright. Please. Be alright.

It has been difficult to get to a safe house. I think I finally found one. The owner up and left to find greener pastures. Don't blame him really. Who knows what is gonna happen next?

I really don't know what to say or do. Not sure this will get to you either. They fried all my equipment. But, try as they might, God always helps me find a way.

So far I have not been able to find others, but I will continue looking.

There has to be someone. I have to believe that others survived too. We can't be the only ones.

There must be others.

I miss you, bro. Only God knows how much.

It's tough to stay clear headed. Not sure if the hoodies work, but it's worth a shot. I don't think it's only the breeze though. But I won't say much more. I'll tell you once I have found out more. The base is nearby.

Soon.

When the clock hits noon, be sure to sing that tune. That's all that matters. Don't hesitate when I tell you to fall.

Thanks again for the great music, though I know it is no good. Riddled with all kinds of trickery and conjuring, yes, I know. But I can't help it. It inspires me to stay strong. It feels like you're here with me. I pray to God that all evil that is directed at us be made to become nothing, 'cause it is nothing. He is the only One that is Real. He is The Real.

I still dream about you. I look forward to dream about you, to tell you the truth. And when I do, I do my best to try and make sure that I remember to not forget. I do this in the dream itself. I remember the most recent dream, we were on tour somewhere. You asked that they take a picture of the two of us. It felt so real. But that was a while back. What does that mean? Nothing, I am sure.

I'm trying not to be sad. It is difficult. Not for myself. But, you know.

:(

It's all bad.

Don't worry, bro. God will help us. The recovery has already begun. I can feel it. Don't lose faith.

As long as you love me.

Pray. Believe.

Be alright.

I wish we had another place.

Merry Christmas

Love

Cody

أ

He scribbles a few words on a piece of paper, then scans the email again.

Soon.

He smiles relieved.

He hits the reply button and starts typing a short message.

Best Codes

Merry Christmas, bro.

I wish you were here. I miss you too. Very much. So much bro. I'm alone too.

The days are cold and dark.

I think I have found the asset that might be able to help us. She was in the park.

Be careful, Codes. Please, bro.

Glad you like the music. Couple of classics there. Make no mistake. But too true. May God protect us, as you say.

Remember to get some sleep and drink water. Don't listen to the music all night long. Get some rest. You (we) are going to need it.

I can feel it.

The storm is close. The barn is toast. There is no more moon only the heavy damp of the red ether mist. The blue skies are now stories of days past.

To think we took it all for granted. Didn't think it would seize to be. No longer exist.

But, yes, bro. Don't lose faith.

I'll keep praying like Grandma taught us.

No promises, bro.

I'll do my best. You know I've always been a doubter. It's why I never went to church. You remember how upset Grandma got when I told her she should let me stay at home?

I won't go to church only to please her. She must have died inside. Sorry, Codes.

But I will remain strong. If I lose you though, I don't know what I'll do.

I miss you bro, so much, Codes.

It's hard to face reality, but yeah.

I'll be looking for you.

Yes.

Soon.

When the sun is high. Don't forget. Bring along those tunes.

Noon.

Those dragon kites.

Yip. You remember right? It was our best ever.

Hold tight.

Don't let go.

Can't let go.

Fall.

Love

Bones

پ‎

He clicks send and logs out, switches off the computer and picks up his back-pack. He takes out a folder and tosses the back-pack to the side. He removes a piece of paper from the folder. A row of numbers lined the top and letters were in a column to the right. He takes the piece of paper he scribbled on. He takes the first word and matches it with the corresponding number. He takes the second word and matches it to a number. He does that for all five words he scribbled down. This was all a secret language he and his brother developed. They had to speak in code. The enemy did too. They hid their codes and symbols in plain sight. So they did the same. Satisfied that he had all the words, he reads the number.

27208

He reads the words corresponding to those numbers.

Be there be ready sing.

He takes out the previous note and reads.

She likes to eat cheese.

He shakes his head as he reads the very first note.

It.

It was time. He looked at the word he scribbled in the corner.

He would have to get a car. That place was two days drive from where he was hiding out.

Sing.

He smiles.

Niall sure knows how to put it.

"It's more something to help you get around easier.

It is an assistant to the blind."

The GIFT

15:00

"I still can't believe she's blind. Just beautiful," says Peter-John as they make their way to the front of the hall.

Many children were crowded around Kimberly, all asking to have their picture taken with her.

"I'm surprised Maria agreed to play photographer today, usually the lens is only glued on herself." Drew shakes his head.

"You know how she is when it comes to charity. It is the only time she really becomes a team player. She is sincere, so don't be so hard on her." Peter-John draws Drew's attention to the present in his hand.

"Why are you so nervous? Relax PJ. She's gonna love it." Drew takes the present from Peter-John.

"You don't think she will feel bad? Us making such a fuss about her blindness?" Peter-John removes his spectacles and wipes the glass with his shirt. He was dressed in a white, long sleeved shirt, black, casual, regular chino and grey black Vans sneakers. He was carrying his grey hoodie in his right hand.

"I actually think she will be deeply moved," says Drew. "Come, now is our chance. The children are all headed outside. Kimberly," says Drew as they approach the piano. Peter-John comes nervously closer.

"What do you guys think? Did they enjoy that?" Kimberly turns in her seat and stares out in front of her. Her cane was resting next to her.

"Do you even have to ask? We had to fight them off just to get close to you," says Drew. He runs his fingers through his hair and fixes his jacket.

"Picture for the media release, please." Maria comes closer. "Drew can you go to Kimberly's right and Peter-John, you stay right there. That's perfect. Drop the hoodie if you don't mind. Drew, hold up the present you are holding. Yes. Just like that. Perfect. Say Merry Christmas." She takes a few pictures. Satisfied she turns and faces Drew.

"Always so handsome, just like you jumped straight out of a magazine. You look great." Maria shows him the pictures. Drew was dressed in a white shirt, designer jeans and brown leather slip-ons. He wore a grey plaid jacket with a green and red handkerchief in the chest pocket.

"It takes a lot of effort, shawty," Drew smiles.

"You're so full of it," says Peter-John.

"Well, whatever you are doin' it is workin'. Keep it up," says Maria as she puts the camera into her bag. "I best get goin'. I have to be ready in case Batgirl here finally comes to the realization that I am best suited for tonight's performance."

"You're just plain rude, Maria," says Drew.

"Don't mind her, Drew. Perhaps she is right. Look at what happened last year. We wouldn't want a repeat of that."

"My point exactly!" Maria snaps her fingers. Her baby blue ballerina cocktail dress bounces as she pops her hips.

"That was an accident," defends Peter-John. "Don't mind her, Kimberly. She is just green with envy."

Maria puts her hands on her hips and eyeballs Peter-John.

"I thought you were leaving?" Peter-John gives Maria a blank stare.

"Guess bein' blind has its perks, Batgirl. Pity playin' the damsel in distress is not my cup of tea. Toodles." She blows them a kiss and steps back a few steps still facing them. "Great job today, Batgirl. The kids were all in awe. You made their day." Maria waves and turns. Her dress bounces as she skips to the door and leaves.

"She's right, shawty. You had them all enamored." Drew takes a seat next to her.

"You guys shouldn't be so hard on her. At least she doesn't pussy foot around the fact that I am blind. She doesn't treat me like some invalid. She is direct and sincere. With Maria I know what I get."

"Yeah, that is our Maria. But still, she is out of line callin' you names."

"Batgirl does have a superpower quality to it. It's not all that bad, really." Kimberly smiles.

"Always so kind," says Peter-John.

"That's why we got you this gift." Drew places the present on Kimberly's lap.

"But you already got me a gift," she feels for the Arabian knight on top of the piano lid.

"I know, but Peter-John and I wanted to get you somethin' practical that you could use too." He encourages Peter-John to speak.

"Yes, but now with what you said about invalids, I am not sure if it is appropriate." Peter-John frowns and scratches his head. He starts pacing about.

"What did you get me that would make you say that, Peter-John? Drew?" Kimberly picks up the present and shakes it slightly. "I can't tell what it is."

"Open it up and you will see." Drew shakes his head. "Sorry, I..."

"I know what you mean, don't beat yourself up about it." Kimberly looks in his direction.

"Well, please help me, or should I just tear it open?" Kimberly feels for the folds of the paper.

"That's all part of the Christmas fun," laughs Peter-John, "tearing the paper to get to the gift. We don't need to be saving paper." Peter-John sounds more excited.

"Okey dokey," says Kimberly as she tears the paper off. Drew takes it from her.

"Let me open the lid for you," says Peter-John.

"Thank you."

Drew takes Kimberly's hand and places it into the open box.

Kimberly examines the contents with her hands. "It feels like material. Is it clothes?" Kimberly takes the item from the box and holds it in the air.

"Not exactly, but sort of," says Peter-John. "It's more something to help you get around easier. It is an assistant to the blind."

"A what?" Asks Kimberly intrigued.

"It is something you can wear to help you get around with less need for your cane." Peter-John takes the box from Kimberly's lap and sits down next to her too.

"I tried to make it look trendy, so that it goes with your normal clothes. Thought black and light would be best."

Kimberly gets up and holds the vest to the front. "Can you help me to put it on and show me how it works?"

Drew takes it from her and helps her to put it on.

"So what you have there in the pocket on your right is the small power source and switch. You can switch it on and off as you need to. The batteries should last a while. I got some soft solar cells lined on the shoulders to also help recharge the batteries. It blends with the material so you can't really see them." Kimberly touches the top of her shoulders. She grasps the small piece of metal on her right shoulder between her thumb and index finger.

"That is a motor. It vibrates when you are near an object. Depending on which side it is, it will vibrate accordingly, either once, twice, thrice or four times, depending if the object is in front, at the back, or on the left or right of you. There is a small speaker on the left shoulder; this beeps when you are very close to the object."

"Wow," says Kimberly intrigued. "Did you make this?" She runs her fingers along the vest arms.

"Yes, crazy punk made it all by himself." Drew was proud.

"Those are ultrasonic sensors. It starts warning you of approaching objects from as far as sixteen feet away from you and as close as five inches. It can be customized to what you prefer." Peter-John starts pacing again.

"Can I try it out," says Kimberly excited.

"Sure, sure thing, "says Peter-John, excited too.

"Just put your hand into the pocket and switch it on."

Kimberly reaches into the pocket. 'I think I got it. Now?"

"Come stand here." Peter-John gently puts his hands on her shoulders and directs her more to the open space away from the grand piano.

"Now, this will take some time to get used to, but I will activate the sensors so that you can understand better. You will hear a beep and feel a vibration. Don't be startled."

"I'm ready, I think I already felt something before." She laughs.

Peter-John moves right in front of her. The motor vibrates and the speaker beeps once. "That means something is right in front of you. Me in this instance." Kimberly reaches forward and searches for Peter-John's face. She touches him gently on his cheek. "I got you." She smiles excitedly.

"Cool. Now I will activate the sensor on your right. He runs his right hand past the sensor and again there is beeping and vibration. Peter-John repeats that for all the sensors.

"I think I have it figured out now. You guys stand about and let me find you." Kimberly turns excitedly.

Drew moves a few paces away from her and Peter-John just steps back a step.

Kimberly turns slowly absorbing the vibrations she feels. Once she did a complete revolution she decides to give only a few steps forward. The speaker beeps and the motor vibrates. Kimberly reaches forward. "I think someone is here." She touches Peter-John's face.

"You got me, again. Now, what about Drew?"

"I think, she turns slightly to her right and slowly walks in that direction, as she was right in front of Drew, the speaker beeps and the motor vibrates again. "She reaches with her hand. Drew takes it and rests it on his cheek.

"You got me, shawty." He smiles wide.

"Wow! Guys! I don't know what to say. This is really great. It will definitely make my life a whole lot easier. It is simple too and feels light. I guess it must look like some bionic top so it suits Batgirl just right." She laughs.

"It doesn't look bad at all. It suits what you are wearing today, perfect." Drew admires Kimberly's chic, black ankle length dress.

"You don't need to thank us, Kimberly. You do so much for us, you deserve only good things." Peter-John tries to smile, but only manages a straight pull of his lips and creases form on his forehead as he frowns. He starts pacing about.

"But, this, this is something special. Really unexpected and so kind." Kimberly was suddenly shaky and her voice was a bit croaky.

Drew wants to say something, but decides against it. Seeing Kimberly suddenly vulnerable, lodged a big lump in his throat. He tries to relieve it by opening his mouth and stretching his jaws apart.

Peter-John also nervously reaches for his grey hoodie, puts it on and puts his hoodie up.

Sensing the sudden awkwardness, Kimberly sits down and says.

"Pity Maria isn't here to take a picture of us now. Your invention could have been mentioned in the media release too. Thinking of it, it could have a segment dedicated to only it. It is great. Similar products on the market cost an arm and a leg, are both bulky and uncomfortable, and simply don't work for general use. But this, it is simple and comfortable. The material feels nice too." She stares out in front of her.

"I don't know," says Peter-John. "I just wanted to make something special for you." He paces awkwardly about.

"We can always get Maria to take pictures at another time, shawty. I think that is a great idea. Our local crazy genius." Drew winks at Peter-John.

Peter-John shakes his head disapprovingly.

"Ready to go, Peter-John," interrupts Maryam. A few children were with her, holding onto the hem of her black dress.

"Oh, hey, Maryam. Sure, I am ready to leave. Have you met my friends, Drew and Kimberly?" Peter-John removes his hoodie.

"I have heard of you both, but we have never met. Salaam, I am pleased to meet you." She tucks at her pink scarf.

"The pleasure is all mine," says Drew as he salutes with a gesture of his hand and a nod of his head. He bows slightly.

"Nice to meet you, Maryam," says Kimberly as she steps forward. The vest beeps and vibrates. Kimberly extends her hand in greeting. Maryam takes her hand.

"Great tunes today. I especially loved your quirky rendition of 'Frosty the snowman' as well as the upbeat 'My only wish this Christmas', crazy what you can do with the piano. The kids were truly really amazed and enjoyed it a lot. Thanks for cheering them up. This time of the year is especially hard on them." Maryam lets go of Kimberly's hand.

"You are too kind, thank you and I am humbled to be able to bring a smile to their faces."

Kimberly runs her fingers through her hair and stares out in front of her. She smiles nervously.

"Well, I have to get them all back. They are all done outside. Thanks so much for the lunch and gifts. May the Lord bless you all with goodness in this life and more so in the hereafter and may you all be rewarded with nearness to Him now and forever." Maryam gestures for the children to start walking.

"I will see you guys, tonight. I am sure it is going to be epic." Peter-John touches Kimberly's shoulder softly, fist punches with Drew and is immediately on Maryam's heels. "M."

Maryam stops.

"I have to go somewhere quick. Is it ok if I drop by later? It is kinda important. I must try and get hold of my friend Omar" He puts his hoodie up.

"No problem, Peter-John. May Allah make it easy for you. I will see you later. Salaam." She waves and heads down the passage.

Peter-John says "Salaam" and watches her leave.

He turns and makes eye contact with Drew, throws up a peace sign and heads down the passage as well.

"She seems nice," says Kimberly.

"Yeah, wholesome sort of," says Drew.

"I think I better get going. Still have a few things to do before tonight." Kimberly moves back to the piano and feels for her cane.

"Let me help you, I am at your service." Drew takes her hand and they leave the hall.

The hall is suddenly quiet with only the echo of the children's laughter bouncing off the walls. A cheer was left in the heart of the room and it followed them as they made their way down the passage.

The last to leave was the ginger cat that emerges from behind the piano. It stretches lazily, scans the room and then dashes cat foot out of the hall.

It's more than that, homie.

It's for St Jude's Orphanage too. If tonight is a success, they'll probably not shut it down as they planned. Those kids will still have homes. You forget.

Omar

#No Air

#Home

#Loyal

The cat enters the window.

It jumps onto the counter and lands softly on the kitchen floor. It runs to the bowls standing by the fridge door.

Empty.

It meows loudly and runs into his bedroom.

It jumps onto his bed and meows more.

"Finally home, Tiger?" Omar yawns, sits up straight and starts stroking the cat.

"Where have you been? Hangin' out with the girls, hu? Was lookin' for you everywhere, you know."

It meows softly.

"What's that smell?" He sniffs the cat.

"Perfume?" He smiles.

"With the girls indeed. Only time you seem to know me is when you need food. It's a dog's life, hu?"

He puts the cat down. It meows and runs back to the kitchen.

He follows it out of the room.

"What's it gonna be, you know, Tiger?" He opens the cupboard with all the tins of cat food.

"Salmon, trout or tuna?" He looks at the cat. It sits at the bowls and stares at him with a vacant expression.

"None of that, hu? You want some turkey instead?" He winks at the cat.

The cat gets up, walks to Omar and starts rubbing its body against his leg. It purrs softly.

"Turkey it is then. Milk with that or some of Mamaw's pumpkin eggnog?" The cat purrs more and meows softly. It runs back to the bowls.

"Eggnog. Sweet choice."

He fills the bowls, and strokes the cat as it starts feasting.

He takes the kettle and fills it with water.

"I'll have some coffee. Didn't get much sleep, you know. The band is performin' today, you know. You would know that if you were home more often, you know." He stares at the cat. Omar shakes his head.

"I'd better call Bishop, you know, to find out if he managed to get the extra tickets, you know." He pours water into the filter and leaves the coffee and heads into the lounge.

Papers lay scattered all over the floor. Some left over pizza was on the couch. A small fake Christmas tree was in the corner of the room, right next to the small black and white TV. He picks up the phone and dials.

The phone rings and someone picks up.

"What's up, homie." He clears his throat.

Not much bro. Just chillin'.Whud up?

"Pretty stoked, you know, excited about tonight, you know." He clears his throat.

Didn't Dru tell ya?

"Tell me what?"

The show's off.

"What? You're pullin' my leg right, like, you know, we've been workin' our fingers to the bone, you know, just for today." He throws his head back onto the couch and rubs his eyes.

Sorry, dude. Everyone's headed to the theatre tonight. It's gonna be dope.

"The hell with the theatre, Bishop. What, like, you know, this is more important than a stoopid ballet."

It's not just any ballet brother. It's her.

"The freak show you mean? I can't believe you sorry lot are droppin' the band to watch some blind, white chick prance around in a tutu, you know. What's up with that, you know. The band comes first. Why did we rehearse so much, you know, only to drop it all?

Relax, homes. There'll be lots of opportunities to show off your mad skills. You really got that guitar riff hooked tight. Ladies will be lovin' you for years to come. Watch this space.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I can't believe you, Bishop. I can't believe any of this, you know," he clears his throat, "what a bunch of losers the lotta you are." He sits up straight and throws the pizza box onto the floor.

Chill bro. No use gettin' upset. Besides, the venue has been cancelled. Gonna be locked up. Everyone's headed to the theatre.

There's a short silence.

After...

He interrupts.

"Last year's fiasco they probably wanna see what she'll burn up next. Perhaps the entire, you know, theater this time, you know. Geez."

It's more than that, homie. It's for St Jude's Orphanage too. If tonight is a success, they'll probably not shut it down as they planned. Those kids will still have homes. You forget.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a St Jude's success case so I need to be supportive and thankful. Yeah, yeah."

Got that straight brother. Without that place you'd be another broke welfare brother. Don't you ever forget that.

"Sure, Bishop. I can't believe this, you know. I was lookin' forward, you know, to showin' Mya a good time, you know. It's Christmas, you know. Show and after party show, you know what I mean?"

Take her to the ballet. Chicks dig stuff like that. She'll think you're a refined brother. If you watch that foul mouth of yours, she'll probably give you a second date. Hasn't been goin' so well for you has it? Last chick only made it to the door and dropped your sorry ass.

"She had issues, you know, teeth issues. You know I hate the ones with crooked teeth. I dropped her, you know, not her me, you know what I'm sayin'." He clears his throat and gets off the couch and heads to the kitchen.

If you say so, bro. Listen, I gotta go. Are you comin' tonight or not?

"What other choice do I have? Everywhere else, you know, will probably all be closed too, you know." He pours coffee into a cup; black, no sugar, he takes a sip.

A'ight bro. Happy Christmas. Later.

"Later, Bishop. Merry Christmas to your mom too. Tell her I'm comin' for my fried chicken and corn bread. Some pecan pie too. She better not give it all to that fat brother of yours. A'ight."

Peace.

He hangs up the phone and sits up on the counter and looks at the cat still busy with the bowl of turkey.

"No show tonight, Tiger. Guess we're headed to the theatre. You best be on your best behavior. Mya might join us, you know. No rubbin' up against her, you know. Yeah?"

The cat meows softly and continues to eat.

ن

Omar heads into the lounge.

Tiger follows him. It meows softly as it rubs itself against his leg.

He puts his coffee on the small lounge table and picks up the cat.

Kisses its belly and rests it in his lap.

"Another Christmas, Tiger. Another year just you and me, you know."

The cat purrs softly and strokes its long tail in his face.

"I gotcha, you know, great presents this year. I hope you like 'em. Got 'em all at, you know, our favourite place. You know which one that is right?" He looks at the cat excitedly.

The cat meows and sits up in his lap. It starts licking his hand.

"It's your birthday too, Tiger, you know. You're one of the kittens born on Christmas day. Great day, you know, to be born. Blessed. But you're not a kitten anymore, are you? I've had you five years now, you know. Not sure, but I think that makes you thirty-six years old. None the wiser though." He rubs the cats head.

It meows loudly. It stretches on his lap; opens its paws widely. Then jumps off and runs to the Christmas tree. It meows and starts rubbing its ginger body against the big box towards the front.

"Wanna open 'em now?" He gets off the couch.

The cat starts scratching the box and meows more.

"A'ight. I'm down with that. You got me somethin' for Christmas?" He goes on his knees beside the cat.

It stares at him with a twist of the head.

Then.

It sits up straight, front paws in the air. It starts moving them one by one from right to left, making circles in the air. It then meows and does a back flip. Lands perfectly on its hind legs and as soon as it lands, it slowly, very dramatically, falls to the carpet and plays dead.

He smiles widely; the big gap between his two top front teeth clearly visible. The golden cross on his top left incisor too.

"That's tight, Tiger! Great stuff. Didn't think you'd ever do that. And without me, you know, askin'. He rubs the cat's belly.

It sits up straight and stares intently at the box as he picks it up.

"I'm sure you're gonna love this one. Walmart had it on special. I didn't need to use any coupons. Got to use those, you know, for some other stuff. Also for you, you know."

He starts unwrapping the present.

"I'm gonna have to cut the chip away with a knife. Struggled to get the damn thing off. Why they have all these chips all over their stuff, I have no idea. They probably, wanna know, you, you know, Tiger, got one of their things for Christmas."

The cat twists its head and stares at him curiously, as if listening intently.

"You should have seen the queues. It was absolute madness. All those welfare folk raided the place. Waited in the aisle for longer than two hours. But it was worth it. Had to get my best buddy some presents, you know, for his birthday and Christmas."

He stares at the cat and leans closer to its head. It licks his right cheek and pats him with a paw on the left. It then sits back again and meows as it stares at the huge box in his hand.

"Apparently everywhere else the machines for the welfare folk were off. Only Walmart's was workin'. Suspicious to me, Tiger. You know. Hoggin' the market for themselves is my guess. Their fault that everyone's chippin' their entire products. We need to get us a new favorite place, you know. Next time you should join me and see what I'm talkin' about. A'ight."

He neatly folds the wrapping paper. He eyes the cat.

"Gotta save the paper, you know. There's still next year. God willin'. He takes the golden cross around his neck and kisses it.

"The way the people were carryin' on at Walmart, and with all their stock gone, was like there was some impendin' doom comin'. Like there was gonna be no tomorrow, you know."

He rubs the cat's back and puts the box down.

"We should be grateful we still have today. Wouldn't wanna spend it with anyone but you, big guy."

The cat gets up and rubs itself against his body. It purrs loudly and slaps him softly with its tail in his face.

"A'ight. You ready? Close your eyes."

The cat goes on its hind legs and puts its front paws over its eyes.

"Hope you like it, Tiger."

He pats the cat softly on its head. Rubs its paws and tickles its belly.

"A'ight. Open up!"

The cat removes its paws from its eyes. It immediately gets up and runs straight for the present.

"Meeeeeeeeoooooooowwww!"

م

Omar takes a picture of the cat.

It runs up the bottom stairs of the kitty mansion, jumps immediately to the rope, swings around a bit, and then throws itself into the hanging basket. It starts rubbing with its back against the side.

"I thought you'd like that, Tiger. It's faux fur." He swallows and takes another picture.

The cat meows and runs along the many hoops and enters one of the kitty homes. It peeks through the hole in the side and meows.

"I gotcha." He takes another picture.

The cat runs up more stairs and starts attacking the fake mouse hanging from one of the railings.

"That's it, big guy. Work it out," he takes another picture, "get some practice for when the real rats come and steal our food." He walks to the back of the mansion and takes more pictures.

The cat crawls through the long tunnel; camera flashes as it is about to exit. The cat meows more and jumps to the hammock; it nearly misses, hangs from the side and claws into it. Immediately it rubs itself against the material and then simply lays there as the hammock swings about.

"Don't fall asleep now. We still got to go through the album, you know, before you get to rest. We can't break tradition, you know."

The cat gets up. Stretches lazily, meows, and then runs excitedly along the top platform. It heads for the ball hanging from the post attached to the ceiling. It scratches at it wildly.

"Careful now, big guy. Don't break it off on its first day." Omar laughs.

"Try the scratch post if you feel like clawing."

The cat looks down at the bottom of the mansion. It swings from the ball, lands on the hanging basket and jumps quickly to the floor; heads straight for the scratching post and starts clawing at it.

"That's it. Perhaps you'll leave the couch and my bed post alone from now on." He takes more pictures and then goes to sit on the large, round, brown suede bean bag that was in the corner of the cat's room.

He takes the album lying on top of the kitty-back-scratcher.

"Come here, big guy, let's have a look." He pats the space next to him.

The cat claws at the post a few more times. It meows softly and then joins him on the bean bag.

It gets onto his lap and starts licking him in his face.

"I'm glad you like it, Tiger. Hope the mocha colour I choice works for you." He lets the cat lick his nose.

"A'ight. Enough of that now." He lifts the cat and puts it down beside him. It sits up straight and expectantly waits for him to open the album.

He laughs out loud.

"You remember this one?" He points to the picture of the cat when it was still a kitten.

"This was taken a coupla weeks after, you know, you were born." He laughs more.

"I remember this time very well, you know. You used to get onto my bed, you know, crawl beneath the covers and start suckin' my toes, you know. Nasty, Tiger. But I understood, you know." He rubs the cats head.

"Probably missed your mom, yeah?" The cat meows loudly and pats the album.

"Okay, I'll move along. No need to be so sensitive, you know."

The cat strokes its tail in his face and purrs softly.

"Remember this Christmas? Mamaw knitted you that awful jumper. You didn't like it one bit. Kept tryin', you know, to get out of it."

He shakes his head.

"I don't blame you, big guy, you know. I love the old lady, but that jumper was plain nasty. That's not your color at all." He rubs the cats belly and turns the page.

"This is one of my absolute favorites. You and me eatin' that giant ice-cream. We had six scoops." He winks at the cat.

"Do you remember? You polished off most of the butterscotch all by yourself."

The cat meows and licks his fingers.

"You remember, I know. You did exactly that after we finished. Lick my fingers." He chuckles.

"Sorry about this one."

The cat looks at him with a twist of the head. It then covers its eyes with its paws.

"You still not forgiven me, big guy? I'm sorry." He moves the cats left paw from its eye and kisses the paw.

"I'll never do it again."

He takes the picture from the album, tares it up and tosses it into the bin in the corner of the room.

"There. It's gone forever. No more Santa. I don't know what I was thinkin' puttin' you in his lap. And you were wearin' that tight jumper too. Double bad." He rubs the cats head.

"Nasty tradition that to be honest, you know. Teachin' children to sit in old men's laps and they can get a present."

He croons.

"Oh Santa make my wish come truuuuuuue." He disapprovingly shakes his head.

"Nasty, Tiger. I'll never do it again." He turns the page.

He sighs and smiles at himself.

"My favorite of all." He puts the cat on his lap.

"Do you remember?" He starts laughing.

"You were so funny. Chasin' that squirrel up the tree. You fell from the branch and landed in Sandy's plastic play pool. Hahahahaha! All wet. You ran immediately, you know, to Mamaw's room and got under the covers."

The cat gets off his lap and puts its claws into his forearm.

"Still angry about that too? Ouch! Okay, a'ight. I'll move along." He laughs.

"Perhaps that scratch post wasn't such a good idea. Your claws are sharp." He rubs the area where the cat scratched him.

The cat licks it too.

"You are forgiven. Don't be so sensitive, big guy. I'm only messin' with you." He rubs its head and kisses the top.

"Look at this one. Me and you relaxin' after we got stuffed with Mamaw's stuffin'. You remember those dumplins with that great dressin'? Mmmmmmmhu." He strokes the cat. It rests in his lap with its tail curled around its body and purrs softly.

"That was a great day. Look at you. All happy without a care in the world."

The cat seems fast asleep.

He closes the album and lifts the cat more towards his face.

It meows and opens its eyes.

"You know, Tiger. You might just be one big cat in this world, but you are the only big cat that means the world to me. Love you, big guy. Happy birthday and Merry Christmas."

He kisses the cat's forehead; rubs its belly.

It licks his face.

"A'ight. Time to rest. Gotta get some beauty sleep before our date with Miss Mya tonight."

The cat meows. Pats him in his face and they both get comfortable on the bean bag and fall asleep.

"He did good, Ginger did."

The cat

Tiger gets off the bean bag.

It stretches lazily as it rubs its body against the kitty-back-scratcher. Satisfied, it runs out of the room and heads straight for the kitchen. It gives one look at its bowls, hesitates for a second, decides to leave it and leaps onto the counter. It heads immediately for the window and exits the apartment, sliding down the window.

It runs along the narrow sill and slides down the gutter into the alley. It gives one last look up then makes its way towards the end of the alley.

ف

The cat slowly enters the half open manhole and jumps to the bottom, careful not to get wet.

It was pitch black.

Its green eyes two shiny orbs that move along the side of the sewer wall. It runs for a while, before heading into a smaller, round tunnel to the right.

It keeps heading down the tunnel and finally emerges.

A hand reaches. It lifts the cat into the air.

"Finally home he is, Ginger?"

"Meow."

The dark figure carries the cat to a door.

Bright light as it opens up.

"Me hopes he got something for us worth using this time. Yes."

He lets go of the cat.

It runs across the floor towards the metallic counter by the back wall, leaps onto it, turns and sits down. It curls its tail around its ginger body and waits for the old man to come closer.

The man moves slowly, limping with his right leg. He seems more to be dragging his big boots as he approaches the cat.

"Let us have a looksee."

He takes the cat's head into his left hand and starts fiddling with its right ear.

"He don't be worrying now, he hears. Is for his best will, he knows. Us will have he back soon, he sees. Yes."

Round spectacles on his big, roundish nose; he winks.

The cat meows.

"He understands." He smiles.

"Let us do it then. Us will have he back soon, he sees."

There is a beep-beep sound.

The man limps to a computer and inserts a tiny chip into a slot. The screen lights up.

A picture of a brunette girl appears.

"He did good, Ginger did."

He nods.

Thanks for the gardening tips.

#Clues

Clues

"Tiger! Tiger! Where you at?"

He keeps calling for the cat.

Giving up, he gives himself one last look in the mirror by the front door.

"Who da man? You da man. Yes, you are." He winks at himself and was about to leave when he notices a small note lying halfway underneath the door.

He picks it up and reads.

Thanks for the gardening tips. The weeds have all wilted and died.

I don't think they know. We need a resolution.

Word.

XV

He takes a lighter and lights the piece of paper. He lets it burn in one of the many trophies standing in the foyer.

Satisfied, he leaves the apartment.

He heads to the pay phone on the corner of the street, picks up the handset, throws in a few quarters and dials a number.

Yes.

A male voice answers.

"It's me."

Told you not to call here. It's not safe.

"Thought I told you to stay, you know, away from my apartment."

I have to speak to you.

"I have nothing to say to you. Stop botherin' me."

Bro, please.

"Don't bro me. You don't know me."

He hangs up and immediately starts calling for Tiger.

Peter-John puts down the phone. "I wonder what it will take to get him to talk to me?" He puts down his hoodie and lies deeper into the couch, staring at the blank wall.

The room was quiet, except for the irritating sound that was coming from the apartment above theirs.

They were not exactly sure what it was, but it sounded like a marble bouncing on a tiled floor, possibly a ball bearing.

This noise drove Drew up the wall. It made the atmosphere in the flat more unbearable than it already was. Peter-John sticks his hand into the hole in the couch. This eyesore was just another in a series of annoying reminders that maybe letting Drew crash at his place was a bad idea.

"Mi casa es su casa," says Peter-John annoyed; the bouncing of the marble adding to his annoyance.

"Drew needs you now," He reminds himself. "If anything, I need to be a friend to him now more than ever. Just wish..."

He stares at the blank wall again.

"Something is going on and I think Omar has the answers I am looking for. It must have something to do with Drew's recreational activities. If the gardening has such an effect, what not about the stuff cooked up in an underground lab. It must have something to do with that. But I can't be sure."

Peter-John gets up from the couch and heads to his bedroom. The clock on the wall said 17:30. There were still a few hours before the show started. Peter-John decides to sit down at his desk.

He picks up his pen and traces the letters engraved on it.

Lancelot.

He decides to write.

Can it all really be true?

#TheBook

#Journals

#SwopItOut

25 December 2013 5:32pm

Today I have this strange feeling that something crazy is going to happen. I am not sure whether it is because of what happened last year, with the fire and all, at the theatre, or whether it was all just these meetings we have been having. Things have really started to get intense and I don't know what I should believe and take to heart and what is really mere conspiracy theory with no real basis to any truth nor any bearing to our actual reality.

I mean, Griffin was so convinced that the Chinese and Russians were going to do something to us. That was supposed to be back in October, but here we are in December and still nothing has happened. He was convinced that Walmart is merely a front for an underground military base and that they were up to no good. That trouble they had with the welfare machines being down and only Walmart's operating was apparently no accident. They were clearing their stock, making sure they got their money, before the impending doom that was about to go down. The whole government shutdown and those high ranking government officials all fired as a result of not complying with the plan.

Maybe Griffin was right. Maybe because some individuals still had or have a conscience we were able to avert the whole catastrophe. Or merely delay it. The bunker his grandfather started building was now finally completed by his father and it was all stocked up. It was ready to be used for when they finally do decide to strike.

They, the appropriate word, because Griffin was convinced they are not humans. Maybe they controlled the humans, but the things behind the plot to cause our downfall were not human at all. He does not believe that they are aliens either. He is convinced they are interdimensional beings whose sole purpose was to corrupt us and help us to cause our own destruction. They cannot as a fact physically do anything, but by influencing us, they can pull our strings as if we were puppets.

As far as Griffin was concerned, we are the only aliens on this planet. We do not belong here. Our home is up in heaven and even these things were in some way responsible for us being kicked out. I really do not know what to make of it all. I mean it is hard for me to believe that God would even allow us to be manipulated by things that we cannot see. And on top of that, He allows them to see us? Where is the sense in that? And then we are told to believe that we are honored above them? How? We are in my point of view helpless against these things that apparently can do all sort of things if I believe what I am told.

I just don't know.

But hey, then there is what she says. That it is all part of God's grand design. It all boils down to faith. Whether we believe when we are told that these things are indeed there and that if we believe that they exist and by definition then believe that God exists and we surrender to His will, then we indeed do not have to fear what we cannot see, because they will not be able to touch us, come near us, let alone influence us.

She also agrees that yes, maybe they did plot to have parts of America destroyed, that is why they wanted all schools to have emergency kits available before October and that is why there was training with the UN 'Peacekeepers', but God, according to her, says in the Quran that while they were plotting, God was planning too, and God is always the only and best of those that plan; while they were kindling the fire of war, God extinguished it.

So perhaps they did plot, but their plans were ruined. Perhaps it was true what Madison said, as long as we pray, God will keep His wrath away from us. As long as there are believers among the atheists and polytheists, He will not let harm come to anyone, other than the harm we cause to ourselves.

Can it all really be true?

Are there really things plotting what they could do to force us into disobedience, and thus make us hurt each other?

I just don't know.

I am sure if I could talk to Omar that he will be able to give me answers. I mean, he warned me about the gardening and as soon as I put my tools down, the paranoia subsided and the harassment sort of ended. Though not completely. I still feel a strange vibe coming from some people, especially from the gypsy that moved in upstairs. I wonder if she lives here now or is she only here to pull a few tricks, preying on the gullible folk, extorting their hard earned money from them.

All I know is she gives me the creeps. Perhaps it is all connected. Perhaps her being here also has to do with what has been happening here in the flat. I mean, I do not recall any marble noises prior to her moving in. But I haven't seen any children with her, so who could be playing with the marbles?

Perhaps it is those things she communes with.

Talking to the dead and allowing the spirits to enter you can never be any good. But are those things real or is it all just in the peoples' minds? But what about what I was experiencing?

I don't know. If only Omar will talk to me. Maybe tonight will be my chance. Everyone is sure to attend the show tonight. Maybe, just maybe he will be there and I could confront him once and for all. He knows something. I know it.

I hope, for all our sakes, that none of it is true.

I'll just have to wait patiently.

I am sure the answers will come.

Patience.

God bless America.

Trial

"You're late."

He stares her up and down and shakes his head.

"Well, Merry Christmas to you too." She brushes something off her dark-green coat; it reaches to her knees.

"I made an effort to be on time. I only expect the same."

He takes in her legs; what he could see at least. She was wearing black stockings and ankle length boots.

"Sorry, I got held up. Last minute things for my mom."

She extends an arm.

"I'm Mya."

He shakes it. He observes her firm grip; her fingers were soft.

"Omar."

She takes a wet wipe from her huge, beige leather bag and wipes the hand she just shook his hand with.

He notices.

"My hands ain't dirty."

She giggles.

"Are we going to stand out here all night? Where are you taking me?" She tosses the wet wipe into a bin, straightens up and stares at him.

"Ugh ugh. Thought you'd like to go to, you know, the ballet with me." He clears his throat and stares at the side-walk.

"That sounds fun. Let's go." She closes the huge gap between them and gestures that they should start walking.

"Just a second. I..." He trails off. A worried expression on his face as he looks around.

"Something wrong." Mya looks in the direction he was looking.

"Tiger, where you at?" He mumbles to himself.

"Who's Tiger? A friend of yours? I thought this was a date." She shakes her head, lips tight.

He continues to look around.

"My best friend in the world he is. He's my cat." Giving up he starts walking.

"I'm allergic to cats. I hope you don't have any cat hair on you. I get really stuffy and might go into shock." She moves away from him and takes another wet wipe from her bag. She wipes her hands.

"He was goin' to join us. Guess it's good he's not here. Allergic you say?" Deep frown on his forehead.

"Cats, dust, peanuts, latex, fish, shell-fish and all oil based lubricants."

"I can see we are goin' to get along very well." He pulls his beanie tighter over his head and they cross the road.

"You think?" She smiles eagerly.

"I'm sure were goin' to be the best of friends." He puts his hands in his pockets as they pass the park. The theatre was not too far from there. He kept looking around.

Where can Tiger be?

"I'm so glad to be out of the house. Christmas is always busy. The whole family is there. My brother's annoying girlfriend and not to mention my dad's stepmother that everybody hates. Her children always come too and they always annoy me. They make this really dry turkey and ooooh greasy fried foods. I can't stand those. My dad is always in a bad mood, so he takes it out on mom and she takes it out on me. I don't know why, because there is my brother too, but he gets away with everything."

She takes a quick breathe, takes out a wet wipe from her bag, wipes her hands and continues.

"Last night we had to stay up late to listen to my dad's stepmother sing Christmas carols. That one likes to hear her own voice. Pity no one has the courage to tell her she sounds awful."

He nods and looks around.

Tiger, where you at?

"She also made us drink that horrible concoction she calls her Christmas specialty. I still get sick thinking about it. It was really terrible. And every year the same thing. No one has the courage to tell her that it tastes awful."

He nods.

"My brother keeps encouraging her to make it. I think it's so that he can see us all drink it and pretend to like it. He always says we are all so pretentious, so he will let us suffer because of it. He never drinks any of it. But he constantly compliments her and tells her how great it smells. She likes him. Perhaps a little too much too. She always wanted grandchildren and none of her own kids have any. It's why she lets him get away with the ridiculous things he says."

Tiger... probably with the girls again.

إ

"Full house tonight, Angel-face. Even the mayor's here." He walks into her dressing room.

"Just what I need, Bob. Thanks." She breathes in deep.

"Relax, princess. I told you tonight's gonna be great."

"I don't know, Bob. Maybe I should let Maria do it."

"That blonde's got two left feet. No grace what so ever." He walks over to her and slowly reaches a hand to her shoulder and squeezes it softly.

"It's just nerves, Kimberly. It's gonna be fine."

She puts a hand on his and looks in the direction of his voice.

"With the mayor here, it'd better be. After last time..." she trails off and sighs. Removes her hand from his and holds it to her stomach.

"I think I'm going to be sick." She runs into the restroom, shuts the door as Bob tries to join her.

"Kimberly, are you alright." He shakes his head and paces in front of the door.

"Yes, Dad. I don't need you seeing me... whatever. I'll be out in a sec."

"Where's Kim?" Asks Drew as he enters the dressing room. It's almost time for her to go on stage.

"She's in the restroom. She'll be out in a second." Bob coughs loudly and stops pacing about. He goes and sits in a chair by the huge mirror against the wall.

"How was the children's show this afternoon?"

"It was awesome, Mr Jones. The children all adored her." He smiles and goes to sit next to him; on the desk.

"She really has a way with children." He seems to stare off into space, as if remembering something.

'How was the piano? Did it sound okay?" Bob sits up straight and looks Drew straight in the eye.

"Sounded perfect to me, Mr Jones. What? Did she give you a hard time again?" He chuckles.

"Doesn't she always?" Bob shakes his head.

"Don't worry, everything was perfect. Those orphans had a great time. They didn't want her to stop playing. Those that never met her before couldn't believe that she was blind at all." Again, he seems to stare off into space.

"Yes, she has adapted so well to it that one forgets. Wish she would stop walking around in the dark though. Nearly gave me a heart attack this morning."

"She got me like that a couple a times too." He laughs out loud. "Nearly hit myself silly against the wall from the shock."

"Yes, it unnerves me to be spooked like that." Bob stands up and goes to the restroom door.

"Kimberly Amber-Jane. Get your butt out here. It's time for your solo. You haven't even dressed yet."

"She's not dressed? What's wrong with her? She'll be late?"

Drew panics.

"Relax. She's a bit nervous. You know... Last time is still fresh in her mind. She can't seem to let it go." Bob shakes his head.

"But that was not her fault. It was an accident. Does she blame herself?" Drew's forehead creases. He looks down.

"Terrible accident, but still, only an accident." He gets off the table and paces the room, mimicking Bob.

"Would you stop that?" Bob was more nervous. "You're making me anxious."

"What? The pacing?" Drew stops.

"Yes." Bob shakes his head.

Drew does the same. He was dressed in purple, barefoot and still with make-up on his face.

"Where's your shoes? Aren't you going back on?"

"Yes, but only in the last sequence. Those shoes hurt my feet. Think they're a bit too small, never liked ballet shoes to be quite honest."

He sits flat on the floor and starts rubbing his feet.

Kimberly opens the restroom door and walks to stand by the huge mirror. She stares at it as if she could see herself.

"Your face is fine," says Bob and squeezes her shoulder.

"Where's your dress. You need to get ready?" He looks about in the room.

"It's in the closet by the door. Maria left it there for me. She got it from the dry cleaners this morning. Hope there's nothing wrong with it." She gestures to the closet and Bob goes to open it.

"Hope you don't intend sitting there while I get dressed?" She turns and faces Drew.

"Sorry, of course not." He gets up. Surprised look on his face.

He shakes his head. Kimberly could hear a pin drop.

"I didn't mean... I came to see if you were ready. Your solo is up next. You'd better hurry up." He walks to the door.

"I'll wait for you outside. Don't be too long."

"Thanks. Thank you, Drew. I'll be quick. Don't worry."

He closes the door.

Kimberly takes her dress from Bob.

"Hurry up, Angel-face. What would the mayor say if you didn't pitch?" He laughs.

"Very funny, Bob. Probably shut us down quicker than you can say fetch." She unzips the bag and takes out the dress.

"Do you mind?" She stares at him.

"If your mother..." He takes out his inhaler and takes a few puffs. "I'll be outside."

"Bob..." She reaches with her hand.

He takes it.

She walks over to him.

"Stop that, Bob. Please. I am fine. You can talk about mom whenever you want. Okay?"

"Sure sweet cheeks." He gives her a kiss on the forehead and leaves the dressing room.

Kimberly takes out her color talker and holds it to her dress. She presses the button.

Dark, luscious, purple says the robotic male voice.

Satisfied, she puts down the talker and gets dressed.

أ

He slips through the roof opening into the theatre. Walks along the many beams and makes his way to the stage area.

Where is she?

He scans the stage. Disappointed, he walks along the beams, further to the back.

He listens.

"Where is Kimberly? She's gonna ruin the whole show!" Maria paces about.

"If she is not here in the next minute, I'm gonna do it myself." She takes out her pocket mirror and checks her make-up.

The tension he was feeling, leaves his body. His face relaxes more. A satisfied smile comes to his face.

He stares at Maria pacing about.

"I know the moves off by heart," Maria says with a smirk, "I was born for that part." She paces more, stares down the hallway and looks at her watch.

"If this carries on, things are definitely going to be worse than last year. You mark my words." She pops her hip and snaps a finger.

He crosses the beams to his right and rests against the pillar that goes all the way through the roof.

He shakes his head.

What's up with her?

He waits.

ج

Kimberly leaves her dressing room. Drew is immediately by her side.

"Kim..." He catches his breath.

"Wow!" He gasps out loud.

"What? What? Is there something wrong?" Kimberly panics and clutches the bottom of her dress, as if to pull it down.

"Is it too short?" Her face immediately upset.

"No," he swallows hard, "everything's... You look great, Kim. Wow." He puts her arm in hers and gestures for her to start walking.

"Thanks, Drew. I'll take your word for it." She seems less nervous. She tries to smile, but only manages a curve of her top lip.

"We still have some time. Don't worry. Everything's gonna be ahwesome." Drew tries to reassure her.

"I hope so. A lot depends on this show being a success." She holds onto Drew's arm tighter.

He squeezes her hand.

"I know." He looks at her worried face. He frowns too.

"Don't worry, shawty. Everythin' will be okay. Remember to breath and you can't go wrong." He manages a smile.

"In and out, in and out. I'll do my best to remind myself. I wouldn't want to end up blue in my face. Perhaps my face will match my dress." She manages a soft laugh, but stiffens quick.

"This way."

He leads her to the stage area.

'Finally!" Shouts Maria. "Where have you been?! You'll ruin everything!"

"Maria, calm down. She's here now. Back off." Drew eyes her up and down. Sharp twist in his brow.

Maria puffs her cheeks and walks away.

"That girl needs a real attitude adjustment, perhaps a whole new personality." Drew removes his hand from Kimberly's and lets go of her arm.

"She's worried. This is important to all of us. That's all." Kimberly smiles sincerely.

"Sure, Kimberly. Always coverin' for everyone." He shakes his head.

"Any way, here's your position. Remember, twenty paces and you'll be in the center of the stage."

He kisses her on her cheek softly.

"Break a leg."

He backs away.

"Remember to have fun."

Kimberly smiles as he walks away. She breathes in deeply. There is loud applause as the performance before hers ends. She starts counting.

Loosens her fingers and takes a deep breath in, holds it for a few seconds, then exhales and takes her position.

The orchestra starts to play.

خ

He hangs from the beam right above where Kimberly was positioned. He lets go and lands softly in front of her. He looks at the audience.

Sure are a lot of people here.

He looks at her.

She stares him straight in the eyes.

Can't believe she's blind.

He looks her up and down.

Smiles.

What a beauty.

He focuses.

It's now or never.

He closes his eyes as the orchestra starts to play.

خ س

"I love you, Princess." He kisses her forehead.

"I love you too, Daddy." She grabs his index finger with her small hand.

"Is Mommy going to be home tomorrow?"

Her big brown eyes expectant. She grips his finger tighter.

He looks away and instead stares at the picture on the wall. She drew it when she was five. It was a picture of her with him and his wife. The picture said,

Me, Mommy, Daddy and Them.

Below Them was a big blue-purple circle.

He turns and faces her again.

"Not sure, Angel." He shrugs.

"What is wrong with her, Daddy?" Her brown eyes serious; it penetrates his façade; it unnerves him. It was like she could see everything.

He looks away.

"The doctor doesn't know yet, cupcakes." He lies and tries not to look at her eyes.

"Is it them? Did they do something to Mommy?"

He looks at her, tries to hold eye contact, but can't for long.

He gets up and goes to the bedroom door.

"Get some sleep. We'll see what the doctor says tomorrow." He switches off the light.

"Good night, my angel. Daddy loves you."

He closes the door.

She stares at the ceiling. Blue-purple lights were against the ceiling.

"Night. Don't let the bed bugs bite." She blows a kiss at the ceiling and closes her eyes.

ب ج

Breathe in and out.

One two three, one two three.

Turn.

Yes.

Up.

Down.

Right then left.

One two three, one two three.

Don't forget to feed the cat.

Yes.

One two three, one two three.

Turn.

Back.

Yes.

Up.

Down.

Breathe in and out.

Right.

Now left.

Turn.

Mom said not to get too close.

That she did.

Turn.

Now right.

Stop.

Where did I put my talker?

Up.

Down.

Pause.

What's that?

Hold.

Breathe in and out.

Did I remember to lock up?

Breathe in and out.

Turn.

Turn again.

Slower.

Lift.

Stop.

What's that?

Go back.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

I hope I don't faint.

Turn.

Turn.

I should have had something to eat.

Yes.

Mom was right.

Yes.

Turn.

Breathe in and out.

Stop.

Hold.

What's that?

Turn.

Slower.

Mom was always right.

Slow down.

Stop.

Pause.

Breathe in and out.

Hold.

That's right.

I should have listened to mom.

Hold.

Hold tight.

Too tight.

Let go.

Pause.

Breathe in and out.

Faster.

Stop.

Hold.

Hold tight.

No.

Mom said to let him go.

She was right.

No.

Hold.

Hold tight.

Yes.

Let go.

Stop.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Now left.

Stop.

Right quick.

Stop.

Please don't let me go.

I need you.

Stop.

What about dad?

Pause.

What's that?

Move.

Please don't stop.

Dad was wrong.

It was not the cat.

Turn.

Breathe in and out.

Stop.

Hold.

Hold tight.

Pause.

Almost home.

No.

Breathe in and out.

Drew is such a nice guy.

Stop.

No.

Left.

Turn.

Right.

Turn.

Left.

Spin.

Oops.

I forgot to twist.

No.

That's later.

Turn.

Stop.

Stop.

That's what mom said.

Yes.

Why didn't I listen?

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

I should have had that apple.

Yes.

Stop.

What's that?

Hold.

Hold tight.

Please don't let me go.

Stop.

Hold.

Hold tight.

Too tight.

Don't ever let me go.

Stop.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Stop.

Pause.

What's Maria's problem?

Stop.

Breathe in and out.

Stop.

Faster now.

Twist.

Lift.

Down.

Stop.

Pause.

Hold.

What do you want?

Stop.

Turn.

Turn.

What's that?

Breathe in and out.

Hold.

Hold.

A bit longer.

Jump.

Stop.

Hold.

Hold.

Please.

Don't let me go.

I need you.

I do.

I beg you.

Please.

That's it.

Wonder what the mayor will do?

What's that?

Stop.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Please.

Breathe in and out.

I need you.

Please.

She hears it.

A beat.

Soft.

What's that?

It beats again. This time it's louder, almost like it was right next to her.

"Is someone there?" She asks softly, her lips barely moving.

She turns.

Stops.

She looks.

Yes.

A faint blue flicker to her left.

What can it be?

She turns and stops, with the blue throb right in front of her. The throb matches the beat. It was the same as she saw earlier while she was outside. She turns; hesitates.

What is that?

She trips.

Falls.

Something grabs her hand and twists her around and spins her in one spot, throws her back and brings her back up.

The beat was loud right against her chest.

Breathe in and out.

She sees it more, the blue flicker no more. It changes to purple.

She sees a face. Faint. But she is sure it's there.

She reaches with her hand. Slowly.

Breathe in and out.

She reaches more.

She touches it.

It's warm.

She feels the beat in her hand.

Strong.

Breathe in and out.

The face clear. The eyes almost as if they were glowing. A faint blue.

She gasps softly.

ۋ‎

Careful.

What must I do?

Turn.

Turn.

Stop.

Right then left.

Will this do?

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Stop.

Is this a good idea?

Watch out.

That almost did it.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Left then right.

Stop.

Right then left.

Up.

Down.

Lift.

Slower.

Down.

Will this work?

Sure are a lot of people here.

Turn.

Turn.

Stop.

Is he looking at me?

Turn.

Turn.

Stop.

No.

His looking...

Yes.

At her.

He does look familiar.

Is it?

Yes.

It is him.

What is he doing here?

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Sure are a lot of turns.

I'm sure.

Turn.

Yes.

It is him.

I must warn her.

But how?

Turn.

Turn.

Turn.

Up.

Down.

Stop.

It's now or never.

Focus.

Yes.

Concentrate.

More.

Almost.

Can she see me?

Looks like it.

Yes.

But.

Wait.

No.

No!

No!!

No!!!

No!!!!

Watch out!!!!!!!

Kimberly!

I've got to.

Got to go.

Here they come.

What have I done?

Please.

Help her.

I should never have come.

Yes.

It's all my fault.

Please.

Kimberly.

ـو

"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!" The audience erupts into loud applause.

"Way to go, shawty. That was something else." He kisses her on her cheek.

Kimberly looks.

It was gone.

She smiles.

Disappointed.

"Come I'll lead you off the stage." He puts his arm in hers. They take a bow and leave.

Maria bounces closer, her lips pressed together. She frowns.

"You go, Batgirl. Way not to mess up." She rubs Kimberly's arm and gives it a light squeeze.

"Thanks, I guess." Kimberly doesn't really pay attention to her; she was still a bit confused; mostly disappointed. She looks back hoping to see something, but there was nothing. All she heard was the music and the dancers moving around.

The audience was still cheering.

"You best leave her and come, Drew. We are not done yet." She pulls him by his arm and glares at Kimberly.

"See you in a bit, Shawty." He let's go of her and joins the rest of the dancers.

Kimberly feels for the wall and rests against it.

What was that?

She tries hard to see if she can find it, but she sees nothing. Again, she listens.

The noise in the theatre makes it hard to discern the sounds.

But it was there.

The faint beat.

It was coming from her right.

The more she listens, the clearer the beat becomes. Steady and strong; the same as before. She moves in the beats direction. It moves away from her further to the back, more to the dressing rooms.

She follows it, always a hand against the wall.

The beat starts the same throbbing it did outside. The blue glow starts flickering faintly. It goes into her dressing room. She follows it.

"Is someone here," she asks as she enters and closes the door.

All she hears is the beat.

The glow was almost in the center of the room; it starts turning purple.

She walks slowly towards it, clutching her dress with her left hand, while the right reaches towards the purple glow that was now more visible than before. Again, a face forms, a bluish glow from the eyes.

Slowly she touches it. She feels the beat. The face feels warm.

"Who are you?" She asks softly. "Are you real?" She runs her hand softly over the face all along the eyebrows, she gently traces the nose and runs her fingers along the lips.

It all felt real.

Kimberly swallows hard.

She takes her hand away.

Something touches her arm and then takes her hand and puts it against what felt like a chest. She could feel the heartbeat fast and strong. The chest felt warm; unusually warm.

A smile comes to Kimberly's face. She goes closer.

"Is it you?" Kimberly was excited. Soft drops form at the top of her lips. She breathes deeply.

She sees the whole body. The face becomes clearer, the eyes no longer glowing, but still blue.

"Your eyes...they're beautiful." She sighs softly and doesn't blink for a second. She was scared she'd miss it.

She reaches for his face and puts her hand to his right cheek.

He smiles then vanishes.

"I told you everything's gonna be fine, Angel-face." Bob walks into the dressing room. Puts an arm around her waist and lifts her into the air.

"You were great!" He puts her down. "What? What's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost?" He frowns concerned. "What's with the tears?"

Kimberly looks around. He was gone.

She turns and faces where she heard Bob's voice. She wipes the tears from her cheek.

"No, just a bit overwhelmed. Glad it's all over." She wishes Bob didn't show up. She tries to listen for the beat, but there was nothing.

ي

"Madam mayor, such an honor it is."

"Madam mayor sounds so awful, please call me Sue."

"Kimberly, I'll wait for you outside." Drew looks the mayor up and down, before he heads for the door.

"As you wish, Sue. I trust you enjoyed the show?"

Kimberly faces the mayor's direction; listens as she starts moving about the room.

"It was quite a performance."

The mayor's voice lacked emotion, was monotonous. She clears her throat. "I can't say that it... what I mean is... we'll have to see." She clears her throat again.

"So, you'll reconsider?"

The mayor says nothing.

She walks less on her heels and moves slowly closer to Kimberly from behind.

When she was a feet or so away, she stops and stares Kimberly from the back.

"Is something in my hair?" Kimberly turns and faces her.

Unnerved, the mayor takes a deep breath, swallows and moves away.

"I must say, I find it perpetually inconceivable that you are of those that are visually impaired. How you are able to maneuver about with what appears such ease and eloquence with merely that cane as your aid, baffles and confounds me utterly." She turns, waves a hand in front of Kimberly's face, checking to see if there are any reflux response to this. She pays particular attention to Kimberly's pupils. These however do not respond. They were dilated and that is the way they remained for most of the time she was staring at Kimberly.

"I accept my blindness. That is key to my resolve and moving forward with my life. I have much to be grateful for."

"I would be lying if I said I was not touched by the deeply moving story you so passionately unfolded with your graceful movements, and your control of your body. I dare say, I was extremely agitated, considering and bearing in mind the disastrous and almost unthinkable catastrophe that shook our foundations and that had the town talking for months with no real inclination that any of it would subside. It was definitely a failed attempt."

Kimberly sort of flinched at the mention of failed attempt.

"You make it sound as if we were part of some sort of trial, guinea pigs for some experiment?" Kimberly chose her words carefully. The mayor sounded ominous.

"There are many a curious things that are going around." The mayor steps away from Kimberly and stops by the window looking out into the courtyard with the large garden.

"Regardless of that, tonight was a complete success and, I must confess, welcome surprise. The things they are capable of really intrigue me."

Kimberly felt more unsettled by these very cryptic words of the mayor. She holds her arms protectively across her chest.

"I am sure our paths will cross again, soon, Miss Amber-Jane. For now, I am quite blown away with the results. I will be in touch. Merry Christmas." She stares at Kimberly for a second, opens the door and then walks out.

Drew brushes past her and is immediately by Kimberly's side.

"What did the honorable mayor call me Sue have to say, shawty. She looks plain like a scarecrow. Don't you agree?" He knocks his knuckles against his head and bites his fist.

"I most definitely felt a strange energy about her. Something was off. And the weird things she said made her seem scarier." Kimberly shakes it off. "Any way, it is done. I am sort of sad that we have come to this point, but also extremely relieved that it is all over. I am going to miss being here with you all."

"What do you mean?" Asks Drew. "Are you leaving us?" He sounds upset.

Kimberly turns and faces the direction of his voice. She sighs.

"Drew, I do not belong here, among you. I am blind and am not privy to any of the things you see and know. I am stumbling around in the dark. I must be with those like me. I might move about like you all, but I am not. I try to be strong and pretend I am not unnerved, but I am. Truth be told I am uncomfortable most of the time and I can feel the eyes are all on me. I don't like it. It overwhelms me."

Kimberly feels for her cane.

Drew takes a few minutes to react. He helps her with her cane. Her words had him in shock.

"I didn't realize you felt like that." Drew didn't know what to say.

"It is ok. I enjoyed being here, but it is time for me to go. Time to face reality. I am blind and I will always be blind." Kimberly sighs.

Just then the ginger cat comes running into the room and rubs itself against Kimberly's leg.

"Mr B, is it you?" She bends down and picks up the cat. It snuggles into her arms and purrs softly.

Just then Omar comes rushing into the room.

"Tiger! What are you doing here?"

Drew turns and faces Omar.

"No unauthorized access, bro. I will have to ask you to leave." He puts his arm around Kimberly and stands defensively in front of her.

Omar stares at him annoyed.

"I'm just here for my cat." He smirks. He wants to approach Kimberly, but Drew steps in between them more.

"Is Mr B your cat? I didn't realize he has an owner. I always thought he was a stray." Kimberly was not sure if she should hold onto the cat or hand it over. She decides to put the cat down on the floor. It stretches and meows.

"His name is Tiger and he belongs to me. If you don't mind." Omar shoves past Drew and was about to pick up the cat when it turns, hisses and growls, before scratching Omar's hand. It moves away from Omar and goes to sit between Kimberly's legs. It starts to lick its paws.

"It doesn't look like the cat wants much to do with you, bro," Drew says with some satisfaction.

Omar eyes him grudgingly, but then focuses on the cat. He inspects it closely. It looked exactly like Tiger. The white and ginger patterns that met at the tip of the cat's nose matched exactly. Even the pink and black coloring of its unique nose print was the same. Now, suddenly the nose print was not so unique. He thought no cat's nose print was a like. But the more he stared at the cat, the more he realizes that it was not Tiger. It was the eyes. They were the exact green, almost metallic, but the essence of life in the eyes was off. The thing about Tiger's eyes is that they were as if they spoke a language that only Omar could understand. No matter what they were up to, Omar could always rely on Tiger's eyes for comfort, warmth, understanding, sympathy, and even the brutal honesty, disgust and anger. Tiger hid nothing from him. But this cat's eyes were blank, almost lifeless.

"My bad. That ain't Tiger. My sincere apologies." He was about to leave, but hesitates and turns to face Kimberly and Drew.

"You guys were truly amazin', word. Miss, you move like a dream come to life. Certainly an honor and a privilege it was for me to be granted the opportunity to witness and behold it. Merry Christmas to you both." He salutes and turns.

"Omar, I was hoping I would run into you. What are you doing back here?" Peter-John walks in and notices the tension on Drew's face.

Kimberly's expression was hard to read.

"Just a misunderstandin'. I'll be takin' my leave." He starts to walk away.

Peter-John glances at Drew, but is soon on Omar's heels.

"Please, bro. I need to ask you something important." He grabs Omar by the left arm.

"Get your hands off my person this instant. And I'm not cha bro." Omar shoves Peter-John's hand away.

"Sorry, I, I just want to talk with you for a sec. Is that so much to ask?" Peter-John's voice was surprisingly insistent and stern. Even he was surprised. "I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important." He puts his hoodie down and stands still.

Omar takes a few paces further, but stops too. He turns slowly. He stares at Peter-John. Peter-John's eyes were kind and curious.

"What's on your mind that has you actin' like a fool? Spit it out already, my date is waitin' for me outside, you dig."

Peter-John clears his throat.

"I only want to know if they, you know, disappeared once you stopped with the gardening and stuff. Was it all just because of that or you know, is there more to it? Please." Peter-John takes off his glasses, wipes them clean and puts them back on quickly as if not to miss a single gesture from Omar.

Omar sighs and breathes in deep. He pauses for a while, then says casually.

"You need to let this go. You're meddlin' with things that need no meddlin' with. Stay away from these things, they mean us only harm."

"So you are sayin' that they are real, not just some side effect due to the substance abuse?" Peter-John reads Omar's straight face.

Omar makes eye contact and holds it.

"What I am sayin' is, stop actin' a fool and leave these things be. You're gonna get flexed, a'ight. And stop blowin' up my phone, fizzle. Lose my number." Omar turns and walks away.

Peter-John wants to say something else, but decides against it.

If Omar told him anything, it was that these things are real and that they are dangerous. It was clear that the drugs had nothing to do with it. It was more that it allowed them in. He ponders this for a second. It must be why these things have been happening with both him and Drew.

He turns and was surprised to see Drew standing in the door staring at him.

"What was that all about, PJ?"

Peter-John just shakes his head and joins Drew and Kimberly in the dressing room.

"God bless America."

#Home
Family

#Home

"You sure your folks won't mind me rockin' up, you know, it's Christmas?"

He looks at Mya.

She was busy on her tablet. She taps the screen a few times and shakes her head.

Annoyed, she puts the tablet in her bag, removes her cell and checks her messages. She laughs to herself.

"Mya, are you listenin' to anythin' I'm sayin'?"

He tugs at his beanie uncomfortably.

"Omar, you're saying? Sorry, just have to reply to this message quick. It's my friend, Angela, she's coming over later, just have to get the details of where we're going. Got such a lot to do. My hair's a mess. My manicure needs a touch up." She stares at her free hand. She continues walking down the pathway to the front porch.

He shakes his head in annoyance.

Does this woman even know where she's headed?

Hope she trips on the staircase.

He watches as she starts ascending the stairs with no hassles.

She reaches for the doorknob.

Streamers covered the door and a huge star was hanging from the peephole.

He grabs her by her shoulder.

"Wait! You sure it's okay for me to be here?"

"Ouch. That hurts, you know. I'm very delicate. She puts the phone in her bag and removes her shoulder from his grip. She rubs it.

"What's up witchu?" She eyes him up and down. "Is there a problem?"

She straightens herself and focuses on Omar's worried face.

"I aksked you if it's okay, you know, for me to be here? But you're so glued to those screens of yours, you know, that you haven't heard a word I was sayin'."

"Chill. Just chill, okay. If anyone has a problem with you being here, they can deal with me."

She shakes her head.

"And I'm not glued to my screens," she rolls her eyes," I just have a life. Can't help it if I'm in demand. People can be so needy."

He laughs to himself.

"You sure have some chip on your shoulder. Does that come with some shiny sparkles to blind everyone as you make your entrances?"

"What does that mean?"

She looks at her shoulders.

He tsks.

"Nothin'. And I'll have you know, you know, that I don't just barge into people's homes. The man of the house has to be respected, in spite of what you might say."

She purses her lips, rolls her eyes and lets out a soft sigh.

"They know you're coming, you happy now?"

He bites hard and his jaw tenses up.

"Why didn't you just say so from the beginnin', you know?"

He clenches his fists, blows of some steam and slowly relaxes.

"I didn't think it was important. We're both grownups, aren't we? If my younger brother can bring his girlfriend, why can't I bring a date too? Can we go... in... now... please?"

"Lead the way, Miss Mya."

"Oh, we're being sarcastic now, are we? How very grownup of you."

She opens the door and heads inside.

He takes his beanie off his head, peeks first, cleans his shoes on the Happy X-mas mat and heads inside.

ك

"This handsome fella must be Omar, am I right?" This raspy voice belonged to Mya's dad's stepmother Georgia. She was a small woman with short grey hair. Her eyes were a penetrating green grey, under vintage cat eye glasses with a faded red frame. She was dressed in a black sequenced gown and wore huge gold plated hoop earrings. She was wearing slippers.

"Omar, yes, mam," says Omar. He steps forward and shakes her hand.

"No mams here son, please call me Aunty G," she smiles as he shakes her hand. "Had a lovely time on your date, Mya love?" She turns, faces Mya and tries to touch her shoulder, but Mya moves away casually and turns as she reaches into her bag, taking out her cellphone and tablet. "Omar was a perfect gentleman. He took me to the theatre. It was quite spectacular. Pity we weren't adequately presented." She looks up quick, nods at Georgia, then looks at her tablet screen again.

"I don't think, you know, what you are sayin' is fair, a'ight. If we want to be presented we should have participated. It was, you know, a charity event. These folks, you know, want to make a difference. Nothin', you know, about bein' represented." Omar takes in the room they were in. It was warm, a fire was going and there was a sweet smell in the air; pumpkin pie spice as well as some roasted nuts.

"Whadeva," says Mya as she puts her bag down and takes off her coat. Omar gives her a hand.

"Thank you," says Mya surprised. She stares at Omar confused. For the first time she properly looks at him. He had a very handsome face. His skin was a caramel tan and he had sharp features, especially his nose, cheekbones and jawline. His eyebrows were curved inwards, the ends pointing towards his warm, dazzling hazel brown eyes. It gave him a sort of Asian vibe, though she was sure he had no Asian relatives.

"Do you have Asian heritage," she asks to satisfy her curiosity.

"No," says Omar bluntly as he hangs up her coat on the coat hanger standing by the main door.

"I like this one," says Georgia as she passes Mya and heads towards the kitchen. "Do join us, we're all just bein' festive," she winks at Omar.

Hesitantly, Omar follows her into the kitchen.

Mya shakes her head disapprovingly as she follows Omar. "Hey, Omar, I..."

"And who have we got here? Are you Omar?" Mya's brother Mario was seated on a barstool at the edge of the kitchen counter. He was sitting with a bowl of pie batter in his lap. He licks the batter off his right index finger as they enter the kitchen.

"Get your filthy paws out of my pie mix," says Georgia disgruntled. She grabs the bowl from his lap and hits him with her free hand against his shoulder.

"Oh, mamaw, you know I can't resist your pumpkin pie," he grabs her hand, moves closer to her, puts his arm around her waist and lifts her up.

"You put me down this instant, Mario Brown. This instant!" Georgia tries to free herself from his tight grip.

"Not until you tell me I can have the bowl once the pie goes into the oven, mamaw," he spins her around more.

"Okay, okay, you insolent child," she laughs as he puts her down and starts to tickle her. "Just, stop it! Mario Brown! I am not your thing to be toyed with!" She tries to be serious, but only laughs as he tickles her more.

Mario finally let's her go and turns to face Omar.

"Mario, you dig." He shakes Omar's hand. "Make yourself comfortable. You want somethin' to drink? This is my mom, she's a little shy around guests." Mario gestures to the woman that was sitting quietly at the kitchen table. She was busy preparing a salad. She tosses the baby spinach, rocket and basil into the bowl and then looks up at Omar. Her hair was short curls on her head. She also wore a black dress, but instead of sequences it had fine lace around the neck, wrists and ankles.

"Don't mind our Mario. He likes to clown about when he is nervous,' Mario's mother hits back. "Mom, ouch. That sort of stung a little," laughs Mario as he hands Omar a glass of punch.

"Nice to meet you, mam. I appreciate you all havin' me."

"Please call me, Mrs Brown, or aunty Dolores."

"Aunty D and aunty G, if you forget," says Mario. He pulls out a chair for Omar. Omar sits down and Mario sits back on the barstool by the counter.

"Beautiful names you beautiful ladies have. Georgia, Dolores and Mya."

Mya looks up and smiles. She also sits down and continues to stare at her phone.

"I must say it smells really great in here. What's cooking? And who is cooking it?" Omar breathes in through his nose and licks his lips.

"Aunty G here always does the honors for us every Christmas. You're in for a rare treat, bro." Mario winks at Omar.

Mya shakes her head in annoyance.

Omar notices and shakes his head too.

"I can't wait. If Miss Mya here didn't invite me over, I would probably be havin' pizza and chillin', you know, with Tiger. I appreciate, you know, ya'll havin' me."

"Pizza? Why is that sweet boy?" Dolores gets up. She was just as tall as Mario and Mya and had the same slender body. She was wearing red flats. She puts the bowl of salad in the huge, two door metallic fridge.

"Ma," says Mya. She puts her phone and tablet down.

"It's no biggie, Miss Mya. It is no secret. I'm, you know, an orphan. I am one of the children that grew up in St Jude's, you know."

"That's just... my. Well, we glad you here with us today. Sweet child, Mya, get him some of the biscuits I made earlier. They should still be nice and warm." Georgia pours the pie batter into a baking pan and hands the bowl to Mario. "Here, precious. Knock yourself out." She smiles.

"I heard you sing like an angel, Aunty G. Please sing us a tune."

"Here here," says Mario. He whistles and bangs the wooden spoon against the bowl.

"You sweet boys sure are being silly." Georgia blushes.

"Please aunty G, just one tune." Mario makes a sad puppy face.

"Sweet Jesus, fine fine fine. I'll sing you all something. Heavens my voice isn't even warmed up properly." She clears her throat.

Mya was the only one that seems annoyed by all that was going on.

Mario, Omar and Dolores all stare at Georgia in anticipation.

She clears her throat and begins.

"Heavy, was the burden, Lord knows, Mary, she carried a heavy heavy burden..." Her voice was controlled and powerful. It was pleasant, deep and commanded attention.

Everyone listened quietly as she continued to sing.

Omar tried to hide the goose bumps on his arms. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. This woman could sing. It was nothing at all as Mya was carrying on earlier.

He gives Mya a look and shakes his head. She was wearing her annoyed look again. For some reason it brought a smile to Omar's face. He closes his eyes and continues to enjoy aunty G's singing.

"Heavy was the burden, Lord knows, heavy heavy was the burden..."

ر

"I remember a few Christmases that I was not in the orphanage. It was one of the few times that someone was kind enough to put up with me for the day." Omar says kind with such distain; it was felt by everyone sitting around the round dining table in the dining room.

Jim, Mya's dad, paid particular attention to what Omar was saying. He had joined them after returning from work. He was still dressed in his work uniform. He wore thick large rimmed glasses.

"They treated me decent and all, you know, but somethin' was off, you know. I can't quite put my finger on it, but somethin' was not quite kosher with any of these folks that came and took us out, you know. Not the ones I was with anyway. I would always just keep to myself and try to stay out of the way, you know. I would wash the dishes and try to be useful once we were done eatin', you know. Once, one of them aksked me, you know, if I enjoyed washin' dishes, you know. I just smiled, you know, cause are you seriously akskin' me if I enjoy washin' dishes, you know. Who in their right mind, you know, enjoys washin' dishes?

Mario whistles and rolls his eyes in Mya's direction.

"Oh, shut your mouth," Mya shrills. She takes out a wet wipe from her bag and wipes her hands. She keeps a glaring eye on Mario as Omar continues.

"Once, things got so uncomfortable, you know, that I just ran out of the house all the way back to the orphanage, you know. They didn't even bother to come and see, you know, if I was back safely, you know. I took that as more evidence, you know, that they had no good intentions with me whatsoever, you know."

Georgia was moved most by this last statement. "What exactly did they do to you sweet boy?" She carves herself another piece of the roast and slowly nibbles on small pieces of it.

"Well, you know, aunty G, I am not exactly sure, you know, but for some reason they were all up in my grill, wanted me to wear certain clothes, you know, and wanted to take pics of me.

"Dude, they were about to sell you off on the black market. These folks are sick." Mario also carves himself another piece of roast, tops it with gravy and takes another piece of corn bread.

"You think that is what they wanted to do to you son?" Asks Mya's dad. His voice was gruffy.

"No, Mr Brown, sir, no. You know, I felt it was more that they wanted to do other things to me, you know. I just got the vibe, you know, that they were preppin' me for somethin' else, you know. I got the sense that they were expectin' other folks to join us, you know. I think it was like it was goin' to be some weird, church thing, you know, but not with any church. I don't know how to explain it otherwise, you know."

"You don't mean they wanted you to be involved in some ritual, do you? I have heard stories of children bein' forced to participate in sick rituals. I just never thought much of it. Who would do such things to innocent children?" Dolores takes a sip of water. Her eyes were fixed on Omar.

"I don't know, you know, what to tell ya aunty, D. I, you know, know nothin' about rituals and most certainly didn't know anythin' about it, you know, back then. All I know, you know, was the whole vibe was just twisted. I preferred just stayin' at, you know, St Jude's when it is Christmas. Those folk treated us well, you know, and truly cared for us. I think they were not aware of the things these sick people, you know, are capable of."

"Did any of the other children ever mention anything?" Mya was surprisingly paying attention and without her phone and tablet.

"Miss Mya, I did hear a few of the other kids say, you know, they would never go to so and so again, you know, but nothin' about why, you know. The child welfare system is somethin' that has me questionin' a lot of things."

"You lucky, Miss Mya, that you didn't end up with social services. You should be grateful aunty D took pity on you and adopted your skinny self." Mario winks.

"If anyone in this messed up family is adopted, it is certainly you," Mya glares at Mario.

"Why must you say the family is messed up, were all just peachy." Georgia laughs-coughs. "You pass me your plate son, 'cause it's clear you a little shy to fill it up. Aunty G will help you out." She takes his plate before he could say anything.

"No need to be shy, son. Our home is your home. We are mighty glad you could be with us today. It is rare that our baby girl brings home anyone." Jim gave a big smile. He was clean shaven and bald. He was just as tall as his children, but had more muscle to his entire frame.

"I am not shy at all, you know, just takin' it easy. I enjoy eatin' slowly, you know, and knowin' there is lots to eat, you know, makes me want to savor it more, so I can get as much in as possible, you know."

He smiles.

"Well, there is plenty more where this came from," says Georgia.

"I feel really blessed to be here with you fine people. This truly is a blessed day, you know."

Omar takes his plate from Georgia.

"I have to head out again. No rest for the wicked. Let's give thanks. Join hands everyone." Jim clears his throat.

He takes his wife's hand and kisses it. He takes his stepmother's hand and kisses it too. They were to his left and right. Mario joins hands with Georgia and Mya, Mya with Omar and he takes Dolores's hand.

Mya was clearly not comfortable holding anyone's hand. She just touched their fingertips. Omar smiles to himself and shakes his head.

Mario winks at him and scoffs too, rolling his eyes.

"Our dear Heavenly Father, we are humbled by Your presence, and we give You thanks and praise. You bestow gifts upon us though we are not worthy, we are enamored by Your infinite mercy and we ask You for forgiveness in our trespasses, our excesses and our ingratitude. We ask You to help us and strengthen us against our enemies and against ourselves. Fill us with Your pure and holy light, surround us with it Lord and may we bathe in it always. Grant us peace and contentment and let us truly be satisfied with all You have decreed. Bless Mya, Mario and our friend and son Omar with the gift of knowing You and help them to find spouses that reflect Your love and beauty. Bless the hands that have prepared the food and may we never forget Your kindness and love for us. May we never forget You and always return to You in repentance. Thank you for Jesus and all he is. We are Your humble servants and we give You thanks and praise. Amen." He kisses his wife's hand, then his stepmother's.

Everyone says amen.

Omar looks at all of them admiringly. Rare was it that he got to experience being with a real family and he could sense that these people were very close and cared for one another. Mya let's go of his hand and cleans it with a wet wipe. He shakes his head. He sensed that she was just misunderstood. He smiles to himself.

This was truly a Christmas to remember.

He thinks back to the theatre and Kimberly. He was moved by her pure show of strength and the way she carried herself, despite what happened and not forgetting the fact that she was blind.

Had he really anything to complain about?

He looks at Mya's father. The man was definitely past his fifties, but he had a youthfulness about him. He was fast and deliberate in his movements. Omar admired this about him. Omar also felt extremely safe in his presence.

This was a strange feeling for Omar, something he did not come to expect and certainly was not prepared for. He felt it the moment Jim shook his hand and embraced him and held him for quite a while. When Jim finally let him go, he gazed upon Omar's face and this broad smile just took him in. He couldn't help but smile at the man too.

Omar new one thing, that he missed Tiger right at this moment and more, he was not ready to leave the Brown's house just yet.

Tiger, where you at?

Thank you Allah

Patience

Bob

#TheHandler

"Mee-eeee a-and Mrs Mrs Jones, Mrs Jones, Mrs Jooooones... we got a thingggg going... on..."

He dances in front of her, belly exposed and bubbly in his hand.

"Stop it!" She blushes. "The neighbours will hear!" She hides her face with her scarf.

He pulls it gently from her face. "Well, it's time for us to be leaving...and it hurts so much, it hurts so much inside and now she'll go her way, I'll go mine..." He puts down his champagne glass and goes on his knees in front of her.

"But tomorrow we'll meet at the same place, the same time," He takes her face in both his hands, "Me and Mrs Mrs Jooones, Mrs Jones, Mrs Jones." He kisses her gently on her lips.

She sighs and takes his face in both her hands.

"Merry Christmas, dear." She runs her fingers through his grey hair and pats him softly on his cheek.

"Still my one and only, Mr Jones." Warm smile radiates from her gray-green eyes.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs Jones." He kisses her again. Gets up from the thick carpet with a bit of effort and takes a seat next to his wife. Takes her hand in his and kisses it.

"Still as beautiful as the day I met you, honey." He puts her hand in his lap and pulls her in. She rests her head against his chest. He kisses her locks of white-grey hair. She had it specially permed for Christmas.

"How was the show?

He looks at his champagne glass and stares at the bubbles as it rises to the top. He takes it in his hand a takes a sip.

"How about we open the real champagne? You know, the one that goes straight to the head."

He laughs softly.

"Like when we were younger? Get tipsy you mean?" She laughs too, sits up straight and rubs his left cheek.

"Not with your blood pressure and all else that's starting to go. Let's enjoy the sparkling juice. It's not so bad."

She kisses him, resting her head on his chest.

He sighs "The show was great. Everyone did their best. No hassles. Kimberly was definitely..."

He stops and simply stares off into space.

"Kimberly Amber-Jane..." He says softly, almost like he was talking to himself.

He puts down his glass.

Sarah sits up again and looks at him intently.

"What, Bob? What happened?"

He looks into her eyes.

"Nothing, sweet Sarah."

He looks down.

She scans his face and runs her fingers along his gray whiskers, then his moustache.

She cups his chin.

"Tell me, dear. What's got you like this? Is it the reason you want to drink?"

She sits back, throws her red shawl over her shoulder and starts playing with one of the tassels.

"I don't know, sweet face. Can't go on like this. That's all, love."

He sighs again and takes another sip of his sparkling juice.

"We can't stop now, old boy. We have to see this through. It will all be over soon."

She smirks.

"Soonest."

He looks into her eyes.

"I know, Sarah-shakes. But..."

He breathes in deep, starts coughing uncontrollably and reaches for his inhaler. He takes a few puffs.

"What, Bob? Tell me. I'll understand." She returns his worried gaze. Immediately she seizes playing with the tassel and clasps her hands on her lap.

"I can't any more, she... doesn't deserve it."

"You've gone soft, Bob. I understand what you're saying. But we can't back down now."

She reaches for his hand and squeezes it softly.

"It will all be..."

"Over... soonest... I heard you, dear."

He kisses her hand.

"The lie is eating away at me, Sarah. That's all."

They both sigh.

"She does adore you... I can see why it pains you so."

"She doesn't deserve it, my sweet. None of it."

"Does any of us?" Sarah stares off into space.

He does the same.

"She's still young. We lived our lives. That's the difference."

He sighs.

She smiles. then frowns.

"What do you intend to do?"

He focuses on her eyes and does he best to to smile.

"Nothing. Continue lying to her I suppose. What other choice do I have, sweet Sarah?"

"That or death. Yours and mine. They'll... without you... I'll wither away... quicker."

She straightens up and sits more to the edge of the sofa.

"Fine mess this all is."

"You said it, love."

He shakes his head.

"A fine mess."

CHAPTER TWO

All That Matters

Patience

The program

#Alien

#HoldOnTight

#MyOnlyWish(This Year)

1975

"Kimmy dear, put that down and come have your supper. Honey."

She gently runs her hand across his chest and kisses the top of his head. He puts his hand to hers.

"Coming, dear. It smells wonderful."

"Yes, Mommy! May I have seconds?" Kimberly throws her coloring book into her back-pack and tosses it to the side. She skips to the dining table and sits down.

"Finish that first, dear, and maybe you can. Later."

"Mmmmmm. Come, Daddy, say grace so that we can dig in. My tummy is rumbling worse than a dinosaur's."

"Oh, yeah, Angel-Face? What does a hungry dinosaur's tummy sound like?" He takes a seat at the head of the table as his wife takes hers.

"Like this...roarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... grrrrr... roarrrr..." She puts her thin arms into the air, forms fists and makes a growling face.

"Like a lion roaring?" Her mom laughs.

"Yes, Mommy. That's why all the animals ran away whenever they heard the dinosaur's tummy growling... they knew not to mess with a hungry dinosaur or they would be dinner. Roooooarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... grrrrrrrrr."

She takes her dad's hand.

Then her mom's.

"Better say grace, Daddy, before I eat yours too." She sticks out her tongue and closes her eyes.

Jonathan says grace. He squeezes his wife and Kimberly's hand as his says "Amen".

"Mmmmmmmmm," Kimberly immediately starts eating.

"Not so fast, dear. Eat your food slowly. Remember to chew." Her mother smiles.

"Yes, Mommy. I will try my best. But the worms in my tummy have ideas of their own."

"What worms, dear?" Her mother asks curiously.

"The fairy worms that creep up your nose while you sleep and lay their eggs. The eggs flow all the way to your tummy to be safe there. If they didn't flow down, the nasty fairy-worm-eating-spiders will get to them." She takes another bite of her cannoli. "The spiders will still attempt to get into your mouth, but go to the dark depths of the throat, they wouldn't dare. And the ones that dare get into your mouth are on a suicide mission any way."

She eats some more. "Mmmmmmmumm."

"The pasta's lovely, sweetheart." He takes her hand in his and kisses it softly.

"Mom's old recipe. Spinach and ricotta. The special ingredient is the detergent with the lavender and potpourri." She smiles and winks.

"You are kidding, right, Amber?" He puts his fork down and looks worriedly as Kimberly puts the last bite of hers into her mouth and asks for more.

Amber scoops some into Kimberly's plate.

"Remember to eat the greens too, honey."

"You were kidding about the detergent, right, Amber?" Jonathan still eyed Kimberly. He looked as if he wanted to stop her from eating any further.

"What detergent? We bought some last week. Why would we want to buy any more?" She takes a sip of her water and then wraps a rocket leave around a cherry tomato and takes a bite.

"The pasta, Amber?" He seems to have lost his appetite.

"Oh this? Mom's recipe. Spinach and ricotta. The special ingredient...nts," she rolls her eyes, "are a few herbs." She eyes him as if to say you're not getting them out of me. "Your sister has been trying to out cook me for a long time now. I will be dead first before she gets her hands on mom's recipe. Her cannoli is always bland and soggy. But I love her dearly." She smiles at Jonathan and then focuses on Kimberly. "Angel, did you remember to put your books in the laundry?"

Kimberly looks at her mom with a laugh. "Very funny, Mommy. They will be ruined if I did that."

Amber looks at Jonathan and then at Kimberly.

"What's funny about it, Angel? You were in the sand pit again and your dress and pink top is a mess. They won't be ruined, but rather cleaned." She eyes her daughter.

"But you said books, Mommy." Kimberly laughs more.

"I said put your clothes in the laundry. That was long ago."

"But, now, Mommy... you said."

She looks at her dad.

"Did you put your clothes in the laundry, Angel-face?"

"Yes, Daddy." She looks at her mom and tries her best not to laugh anymore. Kimberly decides to rather forget what her mom said and eats more of her pasta.

"You feeling okay, Amber."

"Right as rain. Never better." She squeezes Jonathan's hand. "I'll get the car out of the oven and we can have dessert."

Kimberly laughs out loud. "You're so funny, Mommy."

"What did I say or do that's so funny?" She smiles.

"You said car out of the oven."

"Don't be silly. I said tart. It's my own recipe." She smiles proudly and excuses herself from the table.

Kimberly looks at her dad and says. "Mom sure is funny, hey Daddy?" She giggles more.

Jonathan tries to smile, but only manages a curl to the corner of his mouth, followed by a frown.

He looks in the direction of the kitchen. This has been happening more often.

"Tada!" Amber returns to the dining table.

"Smells delicious, Mommy. What is it?"

"Cranberry-a'la-Amber with some delicious sauce. You sure you still have space in your tummy?"

"Me? Of course, Mommy. The worms ate all the cannoli. I am still very hungry. Ggggggrrrrrrr."

Jonathan looks at Kimberly and manages a smile, then gazes affectionately at his wife.

She returns his gaze with her warm eyes and winks. "Not too much though." She says and hands Kimberly her dessert and then serves some for her husband.

"Love you, dear." She blows him a soft kiss. He blows a kiss too and then reaches out with his hand where the kisses meet, catching them, tossing one her way while he puts the other to his chest. "I love you more." He takes her hand in his.

She smiles, then faces Kimberly and says casually. "Tomorrow's pool. After dessert you'd better rush your teeth and get into your shoes. The bed needs some rest."

She smiles at Jonathan then Kimberly and takes another bite of her dessert.

Kimberly giggles softly.

Jonathan frowns.

Worriedly.

م

Jonathan kisses Amber's forehead and then her cheek.

"You okay, Love?"

She takes in his worried gaze and puts her hand to his cheek. "I'm fine, Jonathan. Why do you ask, dear? What's with the gloomy face?" She sits up more, running her fingers through his bushy hair.

Jonathan sighs then looks away. He sighs again then looks back at his wife. "You..." he hesitates, clears his throat, "nothing. It's nothing." He kisses her softly on her lips.

"You know me. Just making sure my girl is a-okay." He kisses her more.

"I'm a little tired. That's all. Today was a busy day. My feet are still swollen. My back hurts. You know how it was with Kimberly."

She runs her hand along her protruding tummy.

"We're almost there. Another month or so, right?" He puts his hand on top of hers, moves down and kisses her tummy.

"According to Brown, another five weeks."

He moves further down, takes his wife's feet and gently starts massaging them. "You excited?" He smiles.

"Sure. More diapers and sleepless nights. What's not to be excited about?" She laughs.

He laughs too. "We haven't decided on a name yet. You sure you don't want Brown to tell us the sex?"

"And ruin the surprise? Jonathan, we agreed."

"I know we did, but we'll have to..."

"Everything will be fine. In time. Don't fret too much. Yes. A little harder. Right there." She sighs with relief. "That feels really great."

"You should take things easier."

"Tomorrow. I will. But only after I get the shed out of the attic and rearrange the paintings that have the tools to the garden. Haven't been able to find the paintbrushes to add the fertilizer to the petunia patch. The soil is a bit dry too. Maybe some more paint will do the trick." She exhales deeply. "Then there is still the laundry too. Usually takes me forever to get it all into the bin. We should really get those recycle stuff. It will make things easier. Sorting the white from the colors and blacks, instead of throwing it all into the trash all at once." She closes her eyes. "I hope you enjoyed the car I baked. I added a special ingredient especially for you."

Jonathan looks at his wife. He stops rubbing her feet. "Amber?" Worry in his voice.

"It was the knife."

"What?" He asks.

"Love." She opens her eyes. "You are my life." She closes her eyes and falls asleep.

Jonathan tenses up.

Something is not right.

He switches off the light.

Kisses his wife.

غ

"We can't do this, Jonathan. Love. No. It's..."

"The only way. I can't..."

"We can't. Not... no."

"There is no other way... I won't..."

"Jonathan, it's part of life... we must..."

"No. I'm not ready for that... just can't..."

"We must..."

"No, Amber, we... please... trust..."

"Jonathan, think of what you are saying. We must..."

"I refuse... there... I'm sorry... I just can't..."

"Love, we'll find another way... or just..."

"Accept it? Amber, no. I can't lose..."

"You won't. Not yet."

"Only later? Before you... what about them... they can't..."

"She's our daughter, Jonathan... Please... we must..."

"No, Amber. My mind's made up."

"Can you really? What do we know..."

"Enough. And they can get us what we need..."

"And then what? Live... longer... filled with... I can't... I just..."

"I won't... I have to trust..."

"Dare we really, Love... to them... entrust... our daughter..."

"Amber... please."

"Jonathan, we'll have to live with this... forever... what if... it's too painful to digest."

"Rather this, than live with regrets."

"But... what if we... regret... this."

"Love, Amber, we won't. Trust me... this is for the best."

ع

She runs from her bedroom into her parents' room.

They were both still asleep. She jumps onto the bed and throws herself on top off them. She then rolls off and lies between them. Her dad puts his hand on her head. He turns and sits up straight.

"Morning, my angel. Did you sleep okay?" He yawns as he rubs the sleep from his face. His wife stirs, but does not sit up. She coughs slightly. Her chest wheezes loudly. She speaks softly. "Morning," coughs, coughs, "Kimmy, dear." Coughs, "Give," coughs," Mommy a," coughs "peck."

Kimberly moves gently to her mother and kisses her on her forehead. "Morning, Mommy. Did the angels take care of you as I asked?" She stares into her mother's eyes.

"Yes, my love." She sits up straight. Kimberly helps with a pillow for her back.

"I'll remember to thank them later." She smiles and goes onto her knees between her folks. She stares at them; her big brown eyes curious, full of life. She focuses on her dad. "Daddy, are there such things as aliens?" Her eyes penetrate his.

He frowns and scratches his temple. "Only in the movies, sweetheart." He smiles then looks away. The frown returns to his face. His forehead creases and there was a twitch to his left eye. He scratches his head.

Kimberly's gaze does not leave his face. She leans over his legs and faces him again. As he turns his head to look at her she asks. "Then who were the people that were in my room just now?"

He tries to look at her, but can't focus on her eyes for too long. He lifts her off his legs, gets out of bed then picks her up and carries her as they walk to her room. He puts her down as he enters first. He immediately checks the window. It is closed, the lock in place.

Kimberly comes in and stands next to him. "The man was standing there." She points to the chest of drawers in the corner, next to the window.

"What was he doing, my angel?" Her dad walks to the drawer, goes on one knee and runs his hand along the wood. It was clean. No signs of soil or mud. If someone came in through the window, there should have been some.

"He was saying something, but I couldn't understand him." She takes his hand and forces him to look at her. "It was more like he was speaking in my head." She explores his face then settles on his eyes.

He looks away and leaves the room, still holding her hand. They walk down the short passage and descend the stairs. He lets go of her hand and checks the front door. It was still locked. There was no sign that someone tried to open it. He walks into the kitchen and checks all the windows and the back door. All of them were closed and there were no signs of tampering either. He shakes his head as he passes her again and heads to the dining room with its sliding door that leads to the veranda. There were no signs of forced entry either. Confused, he returns to the foyer and goes onto his knees in front of her.

"You must have had a dream, my angel." He tries his best to look her in her eyes and keep his voice soft and gentle. He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes dreams may seem real to us, but they are still only dreams." He smiles and pinches her cheek softly.

She laughs as he starts to tickle her tummy.

"Okay, daddy." She laughs more.

"Come. I'll make you some breakfast. You want some cereal or your breakfast of champions mixed with cheese."

"Cheese, Daddy, cheese!" She laughs louder as he lifts her up and tickles her more.

ق

Kimberly goes back to her room.

She crawls underneath her bed and comes out a few seconds later with her small back-pack and opens it. She takes out her drawing book, her crayons and throws her back-pack onto the floor as she jumps onto her bed.

Carefully she removes the black crayon and starts to draw.

As she draws, she hums softly to herself. It was a song her mother always sang to her, especially when she couldn't sleep.

That was not often.

Kimberly was rarely scared, but since a few months ago, she sometimes woke up late at night and called for her mother. She never said why she was awake and she hid the fact that she was scared. Rather, she fibbed that she was never asleep in the first place. She fibbed only because she didn't want her parents to worry.

Things were already very tense in the house.

Kimberly could sense it.

Dad was different somehow; like he was helpless somehow. Kimberly sensed it had to do with her mother; her mother's illness worried him.

Kimberly also sensed that it must be something serious.

It worried her too, but she never said anything.

Even as a child, Kimberly was very mature.

Very intuitive.

She sensed that this worried her parents too, since people might think her older than she really is. She heard them say that when they spoke about it one night.

They thought she was asleep.

But she wasn't.

Something woke her up.

She was not sure what it was, but she felt like something was in her room.

Like she was.

Yes.

Not alone.

Something was in her room with her. At first it scared her, but as time went by, she got used to it. It no longer scared her. Whatever it was, it never hurt her. It was just something she could feel. She sensed that it was watching her. Perhaps even keeping watch over her. She believed that it must be an angel.

Perhaps angels.

When she finishes the outlines of whatever it was she was drawing, she starts coloring the shapes with different colors. Then she writes something at the top of the drawing. She admires it and smiles. She then stares at the ceiling and says. "Don't let the bed bugs bite." She blows a kiss.

She hears her dad call her from the kitchen. She puts down her drawing and runs down the stairs to have breakfast.

ش

"Mommy's sorry, Angel."

"For what, Mommy?" She caresses her mom's cheek.

"Everything." Tears roll down her mother's eyes.

Kimberly wipes them away and kisses her mom's cheeks.

"It's okay, Mommy. I'll always love you. No matter what. You are the best mommy in the world."

There is a knock at the door.

Amber stares at it nervously. She kisses Kimberly on the forehead and goes to open the door.

"Good day, Mrs Jonathan. I'm Bob..."

"Yes. I know. Please come inside."

The balding man enters the house.

Kimberly stares at his comical face and starts giggling.

"Why are you giggling, Angel-Face?" The man goes on his knees in front of her.

"It's your nose and cheeks. It's so big and very red. Didn't your mommy tell you to wear sunscreen?" She rubs his cheeks and giggles more.

"Kimberly Amber-Jane!"

"She did, actually." Bob says just before Amber could take Kimberly's hand. "But I never paid much attention to her. Perhaps if I did, I wouldn't be so red and sore. But I'm glad I didn't, because if I did, I wouldn't feel the touch of a real live angel. He takes her hand and kisses it."

Bob smiles, gets up and glances at Amber. "She's only honest. Let her be. I think we'll get along fine."

Amber sighs and seems to relax more.

"Well, we should be off. Say goodbye to your mommy, Angel-Face." He nods at Amber and goes outside.

Amber gets on her knees and takes Kimberly's face in her hands. "You behave now. You hear."

She tucks Kimberly's dark hair back and fixes her dress collar.

"Don't worry, Mommy. The fat man seems very nice. I'm sure I will beat him at all the games I have planned for us. But I'll let him win, just so he doesn't feel sad."

"That's my angel." She kisses Kimberly and hugs her tightly. "Mommy loves you."

"I love you too." Kimberly picks up her back-pack and with a joyful skip she leaves the house.

She takes the man's hand and turns.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite."

She blows her mom a kiss and starts walking with the man towards the car.

Amber wipes the tears from her eyes as Kimberly gets into the car.

"Lord, please protect her."

"God will help us."
Toy Soldier

1977

Trees surrounded the building.

Mostly California Chestnut intermingled with Black Oak.

The south wall faced the ocean. The rest were all covered by the trees. It had no windows and most of the roof was flat.

For all intense and purposes, the building seemed to be an abandoned warehouse.

One could even say that once it was used as a mill. Many cut down trees lay along the fence to the north wall. Most of the fence was gone too.

A no entry sign hung loose on a wooden post.

There was only one entrance.

This was covered by densely packed Buckeye. One would never guess that it was there.

Inside, the building looked very different.

Very much like a hospital; white walls and white tiles all along many corridors. A large plasma screen lined almost an entire wall.

He opens the door to one of the rooms.

A small boy was sitting in the corner. The boy goes immediately rigid as he approaches him and extends his hand to him.

Reluctantly the boy takes it. He gets off the bed and follows the man into the long corridor. Fluorescent lights flicker. It hurts his eyes. His room has no light. He has been sitting in the dark for a while.

Once in the corridor, one can see him clearly. He's perhaps five or six with long curly blonde hair that falls in his face and over his ears, big blue eyes; freckles here and there.

They walk to the end of the hall past the many rooms. The boy looks to his left as they pass the room where a brunette girl was standing against a wall. She looked scared; tears running down her face. She was perhaps his age.

The man takes him into a room with glass walls. There was nothing but a metal chair right in the center. The man tells him to sit down. The boy stares at him at first, his eyes scared. He looks past the man to the screen and as if anticipating something terrible if he refuses, he sits down.

As soon as he places his arms on the arm rests, it is locked in place, so too his legs. The man leaves the room and closes the door. The door had no handle on the inside. The lights also go off.

The plasma screen switches on.

The boy tenses up.

He tries to free himself from the chair, though he knows it is in vain.

He starts to scream.

"No, please don't! Please! No! Please don't! I'll do what you want! I'll do whatever you want! Please! Please!"

He screams more.

"Please, no! I don't like snakes! Please!

Not the snakes! Please. Stop. Stop!"

"Please stop!"

The boy looks up and sees his mother looking down at him, laughing hysterically.

He screams and shouts for her, but she just laughs more.

"Please help me. Mommy!" He screams louder. All she did was laugh more.

"Please stop!" He screams, before all goes black.

ه

He opens the door.

The brunette girl runs to the corner of the room and hides beneath the bed. She watches him as he stands and watches her from the door; all she can make out is part of his grey pants and his white shoes.

He leaves the room. She listens. All she hears is the squeaking noise his shoes make as he walks down the hall. The incessant screaming coming from the room next to hers makes it difficult to hear.

She covers her ears.

Her door opens again. He enters the room. She listens to the splashing of water on the floor.

This has happened before.

As he walks back to the door, she comes from beneath the bed and jumps on top of it, as he is about to place an electric cable onto the wet floor.

She cries more.

He disappears into the hall quick and returns with a bucket and empties its contents in the center of the room.

She thinks to try and jump off the bed and run to the door, but she decides to stay instead. The memory of the pain she felt last time she attempted that was still fresh in her mind and literally the back of her head.

She looks at the electric cord hanging by a hook at the door; the tip only a few inches from the floor. It is connected to the springs on her bed. Should she jump off, it would fall into the water.

She looks at him.

He looks at her with a strange twist to his neck. She can't make out his face. It seems as though he is wearing a mask; perhaps a respirator.

He turns and leaves.

The door closes hard; the squeaking noises the last she hears as he walks down the hall. Again she covers her ears to drown out the screams.

A few minutes pass and as she expected, the lights in her room go on.

At first she closes her eyes. To adjust to the light, but more to hide from what horror she is sure lies on the room floor.

Not able to hold back any longer, she slowly opens them.

Soon her screams drown out the screams coming from the room next door.

ز

She sings.

"The incy-bincy spider climbed up the water spout... down came the rain and washed the spider out... Out came the sun and dried up all the rain... and... the incy-bincy spider... climbed up the... spout... again."

Her voice was croaky and hoarse.

She puts down the rag doll, walks to the glass wall and looks at the boy sitting by himself in the corner.

He seems unaware of all the other children around him. His head shakes involuntary. His face is pale with dark circles around his big blue eyes.

She walks to him and sits on the floor next to him.

She stares at him. He doesn't acknowledge that she is there, just keeps staring at the floor. His head shakes more.

"My name is Kimberly." She puts her hand on his.

"Are you the boy in the room next to mine?" She rubs his hand and tries to make eye contact, but the boy keeps looking down. His eyes start to twitch.

Giving up, Kimberly takes her hand from his and gets off the floor.

As she starts to walk away, she hears him speak.

"My... my name... is... Sean." Kimberly can barely hear him.

He looks up slightly then looks back down.

His head shakes involuntary and his eyes twitch more.

ش

He has been running for two hours straight.

In the distance he sees the flashes. Orange. Three short, one long. To get there meant safety. But how? He couldn't see a thing. The woods were dark.

He runs.

He slips.

He hits his head hard against a large rock. Blood trickles from the wound. He gets up and wipes the blood away with his shirt. He looks around. More rocks block his path. They were barely visible in the dark, but he could make them out between the trees. He would have to climb over them or go around them.

Towards the water.

He looks for the flashes, they were now fainter. He must have taken the wrong way, or the path has changed. He attempts to climb the rocks, but slips. He tries once more, slips again.

He decides to go towards the water.

It is not far from where he was now. He hears the water running over the rocks to his left.

He listens.

The strange sound coming was from his right, almost like a hum. Monotonous.

He would have to move.

They were close.

He reaches the small cliff and looks down at the dark depths below him. He starts climbing down. The loose rocks make it difficult to move fast. If he slips, he will definitely not survive.

Others have not.

He holds onto some exposed roots and catches his breath. His lungs were burning.

He listens.

They were getting closer.

He climbs down further.

Safely down, he walks along the edge of the river bank.

He listens.

They were not going to follow him here.

He looks at the dark waters. Here he was in more danger, but he didn't have another choice.

He starts to move, carefully making his way along the fragile edge. He is more alert as he is about to walk along the narrow path closer to the river; the side of the cliff protrudes over the water. He goes on his knees and starts to crawl.

He listens.

Only the sound of the rushing water as he nears the waterfall.

No sign of them.

He crawls further.

Small rocks fall from above. Someone must be up there. He gets up and leans against the side of the cliff. More rocks fall.

Was it them? But how could they have gotten there so quickly? He controls his breathing and tries to listen for the monotonous hum. The rushing water and rocks from above make it difficult to be sure. He closes his eyes and focus.

There was nothing.

It must be something else.

He goes back onto his knees and crawls towards the edge and looks down.

It went straight down.

The only way was to jump and swim for his life or try to climb along the slippery slope to his right.

He looks up, just in time to see a huge boulder rolling from above in his direction. He ducks to his left. The boulder hits his shin and tumbles over the edge.

He tries to move his leg. He wants to scream due to the pain, but he manages to keep it down.

If they should know he was down here, he would surely be dead. He controls the tears that were burning his eyes. Now was not the time to cry. He crawls to the side of the cliff and assesses his leg. The bone wasn't broken. It was only a flesh wound. The skin was scraped off. He wipes away the blood; again he controls the urge to scream.

He gets up slowly and puts weight on the leg, it was fine. He looks down. To jump would be best, but would he manage to get out of the water in time.

More rocks fall.

He would have to decide quickly before another one hits him.

What could be making the rocks fall like that?

He goes to the edge.

He jumps.

ب

She looks.

Two, perhaps three.

What was she going to do?

To her left there was only empty space. Flat, dry ground as far as she could see. To her right were rocky hills. The sun was hot. She hadn't had any water for two days. Her lips were dry and cracked. If she didn't find water soon, she would surely pass out from dehydration and perhaps be food for the vultures.

She also had to worry about the three that were looking for her. She has evaded them for all this while, but there was now little place to hide.

She looks in the distance; the three short flashes, followed by one long one.

To get there meant survival.

What was she going to do?

She rests her body against a rock. It provides her with some shade. The air is still hot and she finds it difficult to breath. She assesses her wounds. Two cuts to her left arm and two bruises on her left hip. She got those when she slipped and fell from a small cliff. Her head had several knocks. A bump was forming on her forehead. Nothing major that would impair her though.

But she needed to get water.

She scanned the area.

Behind one of the hills she sees what looks like water, but it can all also be a mirage. Perhaps even a trap.

She decides it's best to take a chance and investigate. Then she can attempt to get to the flashes and safety.

She looks to see if the three were still where she saw them last.

Satisfied, she starts to run in the direction of the small hill.

ط

He looks up as the door opens.

This time there were two. They come into his room and come to stand in front of him. The one takes his hand and holds it for a few seconds. He lets it go and starts assessing his face. First he opens his mouth, sticking a finger to the side. He then moves to the nose and then the eyes. He runs his fingers across his hair, all the way to the tiny incision at the back of the boy's head.

Seemingly satisfied, he turns and looks at the one to the left of him. They stare at each other for a while; stare at him a few seconds, then leave.

He rubs his hands. The man's hand was cold. It did not feel normal. He gets under his blanket and covers his head. What were they going to do to him next?

He hears the screams coming from next door. They must be doing something to the girl.

He remembers she said her name was Kimberly.

She was pretty.

Her brown eyes warm. Theirs always seemed cold, like they were not real. More like they were in the wrong place. He didn't know how to explain it.

They never spoke either.

Her voice was gentle. He liked that.

It comforted him.

He didn't like to hear her scream.

It saddened him.

Who could hurt someone so cute and sweet?

They were definitely not human.

He was convinced of that.

But what could they be?

He covers his ears with his hands.

He prays that all this would only be a bad dream.

Soon he will wake up and his mom would be there calling him to come and have breakfast.

Lovely waffles topped with eggs and sausage, all drizzled with thick maple syrup, and to drink some warm milk with marshmallows; the tiny pink and blue ones. Perhaps mom would spoil him with some caramelized apple. Maybe even some chocolate covered doughnuts.

He sighs.

He waits.

ف‎

"It's not all that bad."

She sits next to him and puts the bowl on her lap.

"Just imagine it's oatmeal." She tries to smile.

She puts her spoon into the grey goo in her bowl. It sticks to the spoon as she lifts it into the air.

"I close my eyes and imagine it's my dad's breakfast of champions. It still tastes like..."

"Smelly feet covered with farts and dirty diapers?" It's the first time he speaks.

"You forgot to add the rotten eggs and castor oil. Don't forget the toilet cleaner rubbed with some vinegar. Last I tasted something that was like toothpaste. The bad kind." She shakes her head. Puts the spoon back into the bowl.

"Nope. That wasn't toothpaste. It was flavored glue. My teeth stuck too each other. Only when I..." He sighs and looks away.

"I know. The screaming does that."

She puts the bowl to the side and looks around.

All the other children were swaying back and forth. Some had their thumbs in their mouths; others were pulling at their hair. One African-American girl kept hitting her head against the glass window. Blood was slowly trickling down her forehead.

"How long have you been here, Sean?"

He looks up.

His face was pale and blue circles were around his eyes. His nose was running.

He was wearing a stained white shirt and blue short pants. No socks or shoes.

"I don't remember. A few weeks, maybe a few months." He shrugs.

"And you?" He looks her in her eyes. A slight smile comes to his face. His blue eyes were brighter. His pale face had more color.

"The same I guess. I don't know though. I think we have been here longer. Perhaps before. I think..."

"They make us forget? Or we can't remember?" He looks down.

"Something like that." She fixes her dress. It was torn at the hem. Brown. She didn't like brown. She wore a white shirt, with yellow stripes. It reminded her of her cousins' Brownies' stuff.

"Do you have a family?" Her big brown eyes were curious.

"No," he shakes his head, "only mom."

"What happened to your dad?"

He looks up slowly. His blue eyes were less lively. He doesn't make eye contact.

"I don't know. Never met him. It has always been only mom and me."

He looks at her. Soon as his eyes meet hers, his eyes brighten up. His pupils grow larger.

"Sorry, I guess." Kimberly shrugs and starts playing with the spoon, picking at her meal with it.

"No reason to be sorry. Mom and me have always managed."

"But still. I can't imagine my life without my dad." Slowly she lifts her spoon into the air. The grey goo hangs from her spoon. It slowly starts to fall back into the bowl. It makes a soft squish as it starts to blend with the rest. Kimberly laughs to herself and puts the bowl down.

She looks around.

The room looked different. Usually all the glass walls were covered, but today all the other rooms were visible. The room to the left had a little chair in the middle. It was different to the chair in her room. There was some small circular thing hanging from the grey, metallic ceiling. Blue light came from it, but faint. It would be there than it would disappear.

Next to this room, was the long corridor that seemed to go on and on forever. The room to the right had only concrete walls, with the glass sliding door; the same as hers. The ones next to it seemed to all be the same. They stretched all along the corridor.

The room behind her was similar to the one they were in now, but there were what looked like several cots all next to each other. They looked the same as the one she was in when she was born. The picture was the second one in her album; the first being of her in her mom's arms. She and Blair both had albums of their own. Dad always took the pictures and mom personalized the albums. But since she has been sick, dad took over. That is what she remembers, though not many pictures have been taken for quite some time.

She looks at the ceiling of the room with the cots. It was not the same as the rest. It seemed as if the ceiling could open up. There were also many air-conditioners all along one of the walls.

"Wonder why they have all these airconny things there."

She points with her finger.

Sean looks up.

He was about to speak, when they hear the noise.

It came from the end of the corridor.

All the children immediately stood up and went to stand by the glass wall next to the room with the cots. The African-American girl starts crying. Soon more girls start to cry too.

Sean gets up, so does Kimberly. Noticing the fear in his eyes, she puts her hand in his.

"Don't worry. It will be okay."

He looks at her. His eyes less sad. He manages to pull his lips to smile, but it disappears soon as the door opens. Two of them come in. One remains by the door, while the one comes to fetch Sean.

He holds onto her hand for as long as he can. Then lets it go. Her brown eyes the last he sees, and, her beautiful smile.

The door closes.

Kimberly turns and looks at the room with the cots.

She starts to sing.

"The incy-bincy spider climbed up the water spout..."

ظ

He hits the water wrong.

It slaps him hard in his face and side. His leg hurts more as the cold water envelopes him. No time to waste. He immediately starts to swim.

He keeps looking over his shoulder. It was hard to see though. He kept swimming. Last time they almost got him. He swims faster.

He didn't have far to go. The edge was in sight. There he would be safer.

He looks back again.

The water started changing color.

Something was coming.

He does his best to swim faster.

The pain in his leg makes it difficult.

The thing gets closer.

He starts to panic.

He kicks harder.

He didn't have much further to go.

He was at the edge. He lifts his upper body, struggling to get his foot out of the water.

It was caught in some fishing line.

He struggles to get it loose.

Just as he manages to get free, it stings him.

He screams loudly but quickly puts his hand to his mouth.

Slowly his surroundings start to blur.

The last he sees are the orange flashes. It was one long flash.

He passes out.

ع

"Where do you and your mom live, Sean?"

She moves the red square to the front and locks it into place. She moves the blue circle to the center and locks it into place.

She stares up at his face. His blue eyes were watery; his forehead was covered in sweat.

He was doing that twitching thing; this time his eyes twitched more than before.

She reaches for his hand.

She startles him.

He pulls his hand away.

When he realizes it's her he puts his hand back down.

He lets her touch him.

Her hands were damp, but warm.

He finds her eyes.

It always comforted him.

"Kimberly." He utters softly.

"Yes, Sean."

She puts the orange rectangle down.

"I'm scared."

س

He comes to his senses just in time to make it to the next pillar as it starts to tumble to the dark depths below.

He jumps and runs along the edge and jumps for the next pillar.

The pain in his leg made it nearly impossible.

But it was jump and stay on the pillar or fall to his death below.

He jumps just in time for the next pillar as it starts to fall too.

Soon he was running along the pillars like he has done this before.

He jumps off the last one just as it falls to the bottom of the darkness.

He throws himself onto the ground.

Rubs his leg.

Looks up and takes a deep breath in.

He ducks.

The ball misses his head.

He gets up and starts running.

ر

The terrain was rocky.

The mountains in the west seemed almost fake.

A reddish brown, a murky green.

But like it stood out.

Luminous, yet dull.

The flat plains before you get to the mountains reminded her of Nevada.

Was she there?

Bewildered, she continues to make her way down the rocks till she reaches the bottom.

She was thirsty.

It was difficult to swallow.

The chill in the air burned her lungs.

She decided to keep moving.

If she kept west, she was sure to get where she needed to be.

That's what she told herself. Why west she didn't know, but her internal compass told her to keep at it.

Always trust your gut, Kimmy dear.

You have always been very intuitive. Trust and nurture it.

Her mom's words.

Wish she was here.

"No tears now, please. I'm lost."

You're so dehydrated, could you even manage those?

"Probably not. But you know girls. We have endless supplies to keep the rain pouring."

Always keeping it real.

"You know it."

Kimberly stops.

Looks around.

Endless plains went on forever.

She takes a few deep breaths.

Continues west.

The mountains seemed closer with every deliberate step she takes.

You'll have to move faster.

"I can't."

Try.

"I'm too tired. I need to rest."

Try.

"Easy for you to say."

Please try.

You're in danger.

"Don't you think I know that?"

She stops and rests her hands on her knees.

Breathes hard.

A hard wheezing sound accompanied her shallow breathes.

Try.

"One would almost say you cared?" She looks up.

She focuses on the mountains.

Try.

Slowly Kimberly forces herself to move further. Her feet dragged more, but she kept herself upright.

"Only a few more steps. One step at a time. Almost home."

Yes.

غ

The tall blonde boy approaches her.

The tight suit revealing a swimmer's built.

She found the suit odd.

He approaches her more, careful almost.

He looks back slowly, then at her again.

He seems to straighten up as he closes the gap between them.

Finally.

He smiles.

His penetrating blue eyes never leave hers.

"What?" Is all that Kimberly could manage.

The sight of his face seems to boost her a bit.

"Finally you're here."

She swallows hard.

Finally.

His face smiles more.

"Come, nearly there."

Without waiting for a response, he turns around and walks past a few loose boulders and disappears, his shiny suit reflecting the last of the light in the darkening skies.

Kimberly pauses. And looks around.

Cautiously, she follows him.

ك

"Have we met before?"

Kimberly almost sure.

"I don't think so. Name's Sean. What's yours?"

"Kimberly."

His eyes seem familiar.

Kimberly shakes it off.

م

"What are you waiting for?"

He looks at her, than at the telephone.

She wasn't sure what he wanted her to do.

He gestures to the telephone. It was a vintage desk phone. Black. The base was oval shaped; one piece handset. The rotary dial was strange.

She moves closer to the phone.

It didn't make sense.

There was only one digit on the dial.

She wasn't sure if it was the number eight or actually an infinity sign.

She looks at him questioningly.

"Go ahead." He says encouragingly.

Slowly she picks up the handset.

She puts it to her ear.

There was no dial tone.

She traces the cable at the back of the black oval base.

She finds the end.

It was disconnected.

She rolls her eyes.

"What am I doing? It isn't even connected."

She was about to put the handset down.

He moves closer and puts his hand gently to hers.

"Kimberly, trust me."

She takes in his penetrating gaze.

Though she tries to look away, she can't.

His pupils were large.

The royal blue eyes drew her in.

"Try."

She manages to break the hypnotic gaze.

Slowly she puts the handset back to her ear.

Cautiously she puts her finger into the rotary dial and turns it till it rotates no more.

She looks back at him.

A smile plays across his face.

Such a beautiful sight, after only endless sand and rock.

She lets the dial go.

ن

"Don't be scared. I will catch you if you fall."

She hesitates.

Looks around.

"Where are we?"

"There will be plenty of time to explain later. Jump."

Cautiously.

She closes her eyes and jumps, bounces on the pinkish-purplish surface and slides down.

She screams louder as the tip starts to narrow and she is able to see that she is actually high up.

"Sean!" She shrills.

Relax.

You are safe.

"You again? Get out of my head! Seaaaannnnnnn!"

She slips off the tip and starts to fly through the air.

ج

"What are those?"

Kimberly looks at Sean, then back at the flickering light away in the distance.

The sky was a haze of orange and purple; occasionally a flash of bright white and blue.

"I'm not exactly sure. All I know is that we should get there... soon. I've tried to do it by myself, but I can't. I need help. I need you."

He looks at her, turns and swallows deep.

"If we are to get there, we'll have to work together. Trust each other."

Kimberly continues to stare at the flickering. She faces Sean.

"How will we ever manage to get past those things?"

Sean shrugs.

"With faith. God will help us."

Kimberly stares at him.

Smiles.

"Yes, He will."

Patience.

There is no deity worthy of worship except Allah and Mohammad is His Messenger.

I bear witness and testify that there is no deity worthy of worship except Allah and I bear witness and testify that Mohammad is His Messenger.

Thank you for reading. May the Lord bless you all abundantly.

Your friend

Khaleel

Surah Yasin

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nzKmfKrKseM

Surah Kahf

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HB1sQUmMUXE

As Allah wills

