by Gary Foshee
THE REDMADAFA
THE REDMADAFA
(The River of Life)
Pronounced Red-maw-da-faw
To understand this book, and follow along with
its meaning,
read Ezekiel chapter 17.
Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
© 2018 Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
THE REDMADAFA
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—
electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Elm Hill, an imprint of Thomas Nelson. Elm Hill and Thomas Nelson are registered trademarks of
HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.
Elm Hill titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the King James Version. Public domain.
All Biblical quotations and references are taken from the King James Bible.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018948424
ISBN 978-1-595558619 (Paperback)
ISBN 978-1-595558749 (Hardbound)
ISBN 978-1-595558848 (eBook)
This book is dedicated to:
The Royal
Rangers
(Kids who are—Alert, Clean, Honest, Courageous, Loyal,
Courteous, Obedient, and Spiritual)
and
The Sheppard family: The God inside you set me free.
v
Contents
INTRODUCTION
xi
1. Mount Viper
1
2. The Temple
25
3. Scorpion Pass Gate
40
INTERLUDE: Battle For The Fiery Stones
54
4. Bone Valley
70
5. The Augur
91
6. The Little Round About
118
7. Yellow Bellies
138
8. The Horn Swoggler
161
9. Dead Man’s Drop
187
10. Bamboozled
212
11. The Sea Throne
225
12. The Augur Returns
253
13. The Redmadafa
284
14. The White Wooly
307
15. The Shadow of Death
330
EPILOGUE: The Big Round About
349
vii
There was a time when people rose up,
Against the darkness they feared so much;
To bring light again and restore the earth
And break the power of the evil curse.
That time is now, the person is you;
As you read this book, you’ll be told what
to do.
ix
Introduction
The heavens had changed ever since the fall of the garden
serpent and the first humans. Disobedience on earth led
some to question His Majesty’s authority throughout the uni-
verse. If mankind could disobey his orders, what was stopping
the angels? Enticed by the daughters of men, the smoothness of
their dark skin and the gentle caress of their smile, multitudes of angels partook of a forbidden fruit called—lust. Under the
cover of darkness, they secretly mixed heavenly bloodlines with
human bringing forth giants on earth that, unknowingly, sparked
a rebellion in the heavens and on earth, which ended up corrupt-
ing every thought of angel, man, and beast. Mageddon was the
first to fal . His lust to control trade on earth and his desire for love and supreme power final y brought about his demise.
xi
C H A P T E R 1
Mount Viper
That which stands between you and
Him
The giant hunchbacked troll moved into the rocky path laden
with snow. Glaring into its three eyes along the length of a
dark-ribbed arrow, Caboose drew a long deep breath. His arm,
throbbing with pain from being grazed by its club, strained to
hold the arrow steady. Concentrating on the middle eye and not
his bloodied, frostbitten fingers, he launched the vile rod with dingy yellow feathers and a pointy flint, through the trees. Jostled slightly by the wind, the arrow hummed through the forest,
threaded a narrow gap, and plunged into the trol ’s left eye causing the hairy brute to rear back with a thunderous roar. Caboose cringed. He cupped his hands over his ears as the deafening blast 1
Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
pulsed by him. The wanton creature pulled the arrow from its
gooey socket—the eye still attached to the tip of the arrowhead—
and scanned the forest for him. Furious and in pain, the troll
swung its club, shattering everything in its path before giving
several loud nostril snorts.
Caboose jumped over a log and crashed through the top
layer of ice concealed by a layer of snow, giving away his posi-
tion. Hearing the crunch, the beast turned and batted a boulder
lying on the ground in front of it toward him. Caboose harnessed the bow around his neck, spun it to his back and dropped to all
fours as a barrage of wooden shanks hounded after him; he ran
through the forest leaping and bounding. The boulder blasted
through several trees, flew over his head, and crashed into the
trunk of a Titan tree. Large seams raced up its sides all the way to its top far above the forest canopy. Its base cracked. Its middle buckled. The tree swayed back and then toppled forward bringing half the forest down with it. With nowhere to run, Caboose
dove against the boulder and curled into a tight ball as chunks
of bark, branches, and timber showered down upon him from
above.
Caboose lie motionless wondering if he was still alive. A
sallow cloud swirled above the shattered remains, which looked
more like a ravaged battlefield than a forest. Muffled cracks and pops drummed a steady beat around him. Off in the distance, a
large mound rose from the debris as the troll stood to its feet and shook its self off. A chunk of wood, approximately the size of a small thunder beast tail, splintered the hunch in its back. Unable to dislodge it with its stubby arms, it sniffed the air and started toward him.
Caboose opened his eyes. He moved his shoulder and
groaned. Feeling the tremors of the troll drawing close, he dare 2
THE REDMADAFA
not move. The beast stopped a few yards from him and sniffed
again. With the stench of rotten flesh and sweat permeating the
air, Caboose gagged. He looked up through the shattered pieces
and remained still as he watched its frosty breath crystallize midair over him. He reached for the sword strapped to his side and
pulled it from it scabbard. Catching its sheen, the troll swung its club and sh
attered the pile missing Caboose by inches. It raised the club high above its head again and smashed it down imprinting a deep crater in the ground.
Caboose froze. He watched the club take aim for his head
and then rolled inward scuffing up against the trol ’s foot, causing it to miss again. He scurried to his feet and chopped a gash into its ankle, triggering the beast to teeter left, missing him again. Caboose ran behind a tree trying to avoid its baleful rage.
Enraged and bleeding, the beast reached down and grabbed his
tail. Lifting him high off the ground, it whisked him back and
forth like a crocodile, ripping flesh from a five-day-old carcass.
“Help! Help!” shouted Caboose, wedged in its powerful
grasp. He swung trying to cut himself free but lost his grip causing his crude sword to flip repeatedly before plunging tip-first into its hairy foot. The troll roared before launching Caboose
high into the sky. With a torrent of wind beating against his face and the clouds drawing close, Caboose screamed.
“Caboose, wake up,” whispered Pepper, shaking him softly.
“Get up or you’re gonna be late for school again.”
Caboose, still mumbling in his sleep and tossing about in
bed, opened his eyes with a gasp. He raised straight up placing
his hands at his side as if to brace from falling.
“Help!” he shouted.
“Help you?” responded Pepper, with an odd look on her face.
3
Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
“I’m not going to be late because you couldn’t get your lazy tail out of bed again,” she replied, walking out the door.
Caboose wobbled down the street with a vacant gaze sprawled
across his face. Small leather-bound books jostled in sea-green
hands as he hurried to beat the ram’s horn. He skidded around
the corner almost wiping out a caravan on its way to market and
then weaved through several carts and wagons. With his mind
focused on not being late again, he forgot about the enormous
log (he called a tail), swinging behind him; it collided into several wagons sending mushy marts, apple fritters and fig cakes toppling into the air—they soared high into the air before splattering all over the people. Oblivious to his clumsiness and the shrieks being cast at him, he raced across the street to school.
The schoolyard was empty. Soft crimson leaves with frayed
edges and lightened apricot centers scampered across velvety
blades-of-green standing on end. Driven by the wind, they
assembled in small mounds on the steps before running from the
wind whistler who was marching to his own tune across town.
High above the backdrop of the mountains to the North, lighten-
ing flashed against the horizon. The scent of rain filled the valley approaching town and the smell of threshed grain from the mill
carried in the branches above.
Caboose hurried to the door and jerked it open. The large
bronze door, its hinges recently lubricated with jojoba, swung
wide toward him, hitting him in the face. His head bounced back-
wards hitting the wall and was followed by a loud “thud,” which
quickly changed his casual expression. He nodded at Brook and
the other girls walking by acting as if nothing had happened,
but it was too late. Faint chuckles escaped from their mouths as they looked at each other with widened-eyes. Embarrassed, he
4
THE REDMADAFA
watched them disappear into the herd of students shuffling down
the hal way. Caboose shook his head and followed—the door
closed on his tail.
This is going to be a long day, he thought.
Koby Puller, a.k.a. Caboose, was your typical teenage Unidor.
He had a long tail, medium-sized arms and hands, green leathery
skin, two huge legs, and a single horn protruding from his fore-
head. Everyone called him Caboose because he poked around
and was typical y late. He was tall for his age and overweight,
which made him an easy target for bullies. But he wasn’t afraid of them. He just didn’t want to hurt anyone, or at least that’s what he told himself.
Caboose had multiple ambitions in life, ambitions that drove
him hard to be the best, better than everyone else. He had one that topped them all—but he dare not talk about it with his Papa. Like most boys his age, his Papa expected him to follow in his footsteps and carry on the family business. He, on the other hand, had no such plans. He had secret ambitions of being a racer, and not just any racer. His dreamed of racing in The Little Round About, the biggest race on the circle. To win brought fame, fortune, and recognition, things all boys desire. Caboose spent hours in the
valleys and hil s outside of town training. He ran small alpine
trails. He swung from vines hanging from the trees. He jumped
over logs, boulders and creeks. He even practiced running on all fours—unidors can drop down and use their hands like creatures
with four legs. But no matter how hard he trained, he wasn’t fast enough.
Caboose wobbled when he ran, making his stride off-balance
and unable to obtain the speed needed to qualify. Some said he
had a hip problem. Others said that he had been punished by the
gods for the sins of his family. His mother told him His Majesty 5
Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
had touched him for a special purpose. But Caboose just told
everyone he had a short leg. He used it as an excuse to feel sorry for himself and to blame others if things didn’t go his way.
Caboose lived in Thunder Juice Town, a large town filled
with merchants and traders. Life in “Old Juicy,” as everyone liked to call her, was fast paced. Anyone and everyone could be found
there; unidors, moogles (large hairy creatures that lived on land and in trees), thunder beasts (giant reptilian creatures), and
humans—all kinds of beasts and creatures. There was no better
place to buy and sell than Old Juicy.
In the middle of town, near the square, was an enormous
outdoor market. Every day hundreds of vendors and travelers
packed into bustling streets to buy and sell fresh goods from
local and distant lands. Caboose loved walking through the mar-
kets. It was exciting to see so much activity—the smell of fresh baked breads and pies was an added bonus. He liked the thrill of discovering new things and he was always up for an adventure.
Each journey into the markets was like a voyage on the high seas.
There was always something new, something unfamiliar, some-
thing exotic that he hadn’t seen before waiting to be discovered.
His favorite thing to do after school was to sit around the fountain. He sat there for hours watching travelers from all over the circle barter and trade, or gamble bones and knuckle fight.
Hand-hewn idols, sparkling trinkets, clay pottery, silk gar-
ments made from raspy crickets, and other exotic cargo was sold
in shops along the outskirts of the market. Spices, grains, baked delicacies, and mouth-puckering tart treats were all available for sale off the backs of carts near the interior—spices including:
cumin; fennel; cinnamon; apple mint; paradise grain; orrisroot
and spikenard. Grains such as: buckwheat; rye; flaxseed; millet
and sorghum were among the favorites. Since this was his last
6
THE REDMADAFA
year of school, Caboose used the markets as a crossroad for
future job prospects. As most teenagers, he was still searching for his purpose and mission in life.
A perimeter
defensive wall seven cubic’s wide and made of
rough stones quarried from the mountains, encompassed the
town. The different-sized stones lined with battlements on top,
contained several secret passageways and caches. Positioned at
each entrance were gatehouse towers with keyhole arrow slits cut into the front and sides. The towers stood guard over eight gates spread out evenly around the wal . Engraved high on each side
of the gates was the head of an eagle—each head slanted toward
the gate as if keeping watch upon all who entered. Smaller drum
towers fortified the mid-sections of the wall while taller turrets adorned the corners; each tower quartered guards, sculleries, and an armory stockpiled with weapons and armor.
Outside the wal s, meadows of mantled flowers rolled gently
up the base of the mountains. Honeysuckle vines draped over
bushes and thickets in the foothil s filling the air with a sweet fresh aroma; the delightful smell coddled travels and soothed the soul. Attracted by the colorful blooms filled with sugary nectar, swarms of honey-buzzers (bees) and hummers (humming birds)
waltzed from bloom to bloom drinking their fill of the delicious bounty.
Tributaries, formed by deep bubbling underground springs,
flowed in the valleys between rows of shady knol s. Fresh water
streams and lakes teaming with life nourished fields crowned
with wheat, barley, and rye. Rows of olive trees covered the hill outside the eastern gate and large groves of fruit trees lined the river and streams like plagues of desert locust moving across
the plains. Tribal vil ages spread out across the countryside and smaller towns and clans rested across the river, mountains, and
7
Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
plains, each one a haven for travelers on their way to Thunder
Juice Town.
Thunder Juice Town was located by a majestic river called The Redmadafa. It was the source of life for all living things and the treasure of Thunder Juice Town and its residents. Its headwaters miraculously started from a split rock under the threshold of The Gal ery, the temple where people worshipped a Mighty Warrior Eagle. People traveled great distances to see the split rock from which it flowed—it truly was a miracle. At the temple, the water was ankle deep; a little further it was knee-deep; then waist high, until final y becoming a mighty river that no one could cross.