The Harry Ferguson Chronicles Box Set

by William David Ellis

  Lizzy snorted, embarrassing herself. She heard Brian bellow and Grandpa Brady start grumbling under his breath. Grandpa Brady shuffled over to his daughter-in-law. Lizzy thought, He is deliberately shuffling just to aggravate Shani.

  The huge man looked down on his elegant daughter-in-law, puffed his lip out, and growled, “Just tell her everything you know why don’t ya!” Shani tilted her head to look up at her towering father-in-law, raised her cast iron skillet, and threatened him with a you-better-get-out-of-my-kitchen-before-I-use-this-on-you look.

  Her husband rescued them all by asking, “Lizzy, would you like some coffee or a glass of sweet tea? I’m sure Dad and Shani will have things sorted out momentarily. Won’t ya’ll?” He looked over at them and grunted in a mild but highly alpha-tone.

  Brady, not missing a beat, retreated from his make-believe confrontation with Shani and sat down in a rocker that seemed to be his semi-permanent place of residence when haunting the kitchen. “Lizzy I am sure you have a thousand questions, and I am available to answer as many as I can. What I don’t know I will pretend to know and just make things up till ya get so confused ya quit asking. By the way are you comfortable with me in my sasquatch form?’

  Shani’s voice lumbered through the kitchen in a cross between a growl and a respectful chirp, “Grandpa Brady, you got clothes on, right?”

  The grand old swamp ape looked indignantly back at his daughter as a heavy frown and high brows answered her embarrassing question. “Well, of course I do, Shaneee. What do you think I am, some kind of hairy-assed pervert?”

  In a milder tone Shani responded, “Of course not, Grandpa Brady. I just know that sometimes you forget.”

  “Hummph!” the old sasquatch grunted.

  Lizzy interrupted, “Grandpa Brady, I would be honored if you would just stay as you are. True to your very best self. You are my father’s best friend, and to be honest, I am a little overawed at being in the same room with you. And yes, I do have a whole lot of questions for you, but the first is: If you are here, and Raleigh is here, where is my dad? And where is Sarah?”

  Brady settled back into the huge old rocker that looked like it had never left the corner but rocked a thousand miles. He sighed, bent over to open the glass humidor that sat on the nearby cabinet, and picked out a cigar. He deliberately looked at Shani and grinned. Then he bit off the end of the cigar and stuck it into his mouth, never even thinking about lighting it.

  Lizzy thought, I am in an ancient Victorian mansion straight out of Gone with the Wind, sitting across from a seven-foot sasquatch, waiting for him to tell me where my time-traveling father and his dragon-shifter love are. What could be more natural?

  Barry scratched his hairy chin and looked down his long nose at Lizzy. “Well the truth is, Lizza Beth, I’m not sure where your dad is right now. I do know this though; he was always writing in his journals. He took them everywhere. I told him one day they were going to get him in trouble. Belle Rodum, or someone worse, would find them, and every thought he ever considered and every word he wrote would be held against him. Like the Good Book says: We will give account for every idle word.”

  Shani and Brian both grunted in agreement. They looked at each other and then back to their father. Brady pretended not to notice but did change the tenor of his lecture. “But,” he looked back at his children who were pretending to be working on dinner, “to make a very long story short, let me ask you a question. Lizzy, did you ever find any of those diaries?”

  Lizzy’s answer was immediate. “Yes, sure. I summarize them and tell the story to the kids at library time. I’m sure they’ve filled your ears with those stories.

  “Yep, they have, but I was just making sure. So, next question. Where were you, as in what date, what place are you in the reading of those journals. And here is why I ask… the diaries change, Lizzy. Your dad’s journals are records of different time lines. And when an event changes for better or,” here Brady’s voice got quieter, “or for worse in some cases, then what your dad wrote will change.”

  Lizzy nodded. “Yes! Yes! I saw that! One night I read his journal, and then the next night, as I read it again, it had completely changed. Sarah was mentioned; I was mentioned. Then I went back to look over other entries I had already read and discovered they had also changed.”

  “Ok then… Lizzy, you know better than I do. The current time line that your father is in will be reflected in those journals. So where is he in the journals?”

  Lizzy paused; her eyes focused to the upper left as she tried to retrieve the memory. She blinked, looked back center, and then answered, “He had just been given the thorn by a carrier that died in his arms. You were there, Brady.”

  The old sasquatch, leaning in toward Lizzy listening intently, sat back and slowly exhaled. “So that’s where he is… at the beginning. Oh Harry, to watch you go through that again.” The old man’s body began to shake; his voice trembled. Tears welled up and began to roll down his cheeks. He blinked, shivered like a large animal shedding water, and then looked back at Lizzy. “The worst is coming for him, Lizzy. He is going into it again.” We fought Lizzy. Raleigh and I fought for him and bled, almost to death, but in the end, they took him.”

  Lizzy fell back in her chair, dropping into it like a small rock. She shook her head and frowned. Finally, she said, “I don’t understand.” She looked at Shani and Brian. Brian could see his father was in a bad place and knew that a change of subject would be a good thing.

  “Lizzy you’re wondering how reading the diaries would determine where your father is in the timeline. You’re also wondering if,” Brian whispered, pointing toward his aging dad, “if, perhaps, my dad is confused?”

  Lizzy’s eyes grew large, she glanced quickly at Brady noticed his eyes had developed a thousand-yard stare. He was definitely not aware of her. She looked back at Brian nodded in agreement.

  “Lizzy, I do not consider myself to be a great scientist, but I can read, and am fairly competent,” Brian, the man who held two PhD’s in physics, explained. “But I am aware, and now possibly even more so. For the physical universe, as we know it, to be folded into a material form, it must be observed. When it is not being observed, it exists in a dematerialized wave-like state, but as soon as it is observed, the wave pattern mysteriously collapses into particle state.”

  Lizzy crunched her eyebrows and frowned.

  Shani elbowed her husband and said, “Which being interpreted and applied, my dear, means... means… Oh shoot! I had it and lost it. It’s really simple quantum mechanics involving the numerical coding of the golden mean.”

  This time it was Brian’s turn to smile at his beautiful wife who was also struggling to reveal one of the strangest mysteries in the science of physics.

  Brady looked up, his eyes focused, and he interrupted his children. “They mean well, Lizzy Beth, but they are both too smart to talk sometimes. It’s like the words bunch up, and then they can’t get all that conglomeration out their little bitty mouth-hole.”

  Lizzy snorted as she reached over and swatted the giant hairy man, on his leg. Shani joined her by reaching back for her cast iron skillet as though to pop her aggravating father-in-law on the noggin.

  “In a nut shell, baby girl, your daddy and Sarah, and a whole universe, or trillion of ‘em, are kinda stuck in a revolving door with a billion exits. And your Daddy has this peculiar ability to run down a bunch of them all at once. It’s kinda confusing to us. And terrible confusin’ to him, but the good Lord has given him the ability to forget, so each time he plops down into a different timestream, well, he don’t know it. And what makes this even more peculiar is that when you read what he wrote, it kinda ties him to you and this particular time stream, or truth be known, this time river, with a bunch of currents that we live in,” he said pointing around the room to Brian, Shani and himself. Shani cleared her throat bringing the old man back to the point, “Annnywayy… when you read his diaries, the word becomes alive and anchors him. He is pulled ba
ck to where he belongs, and he can get home,” the old sasquatch paused, exhaled, and continued in a whisper, “eventually… if he lives through this next part.”

  Lizzy’s eyes widened. She was about to ask Brady what he meant by lives through this next part when several loud shrieks were heard outside coming from the vicinity of the children’s tree house. Lizzy was aware that sasquatch could move quickly when called upon. She was also aware that they could shift just as quickly, but to see her hosts transform from calm scientists explaining the wonders of quantum physics, to the strongest predators the wild had ever produced, floored her. She had barely registered her munchkin’s screams when both parents and their elderly grandfather were out the door and dashing toward the huge tree that held their kids.

  Lizzy shook herself and ran after them. Two large dark, flying griffins, each with two eagle-like heads and long lean bodies, were screeching out fire and clawing at the children and Raleigh. The roof of the tree house had been torn away and the creatures were smashing limbs and breathing flames of fire down on the kids. Lizzy could hear the desperate screams of her babies and cursed. In seconds, flame formed on the end of her hands. She watched, horrified, then realized this was a good thing. She reared back and, remembering her years as a high school softball pitcher, slung a handful of flame in an underhand pitch that left her palm at a hundred miles an hour. It hit a tree limb, bounced right, ricocheted, and hit Grandpa Brady in the butt. Grandpa Brady startled, turned with fangs bared to see Lizzy’s sheepish features staring in shock at him. He shrugged in disgust and quickly turned back to hurling tree limbs and rocks at the screaming, clawing beasts.

  The kids were holding their own. Lizzy knew they had gradually been developing the ability to transform into little dragons, but she was not expecting to see three small streams of fire jetting out of the tree house and bouncing off the screeching creatures’ scales.

  Brian was half way up the great tree, and Shani right behind him, when one of the creatures let out a roar, ripped a burning branch out of the top of the great tree, and hammered both Brian and Shani out of the tree. They landed with heavy thuds. Lizzy swore she could hear bones breaking in the process.

  Raleigh was not made for climbing trees but was doing his best to bite any claws that came near his little charges. Grandpa Brady started swinging a sling that held a small bowling ball. Lizzy didn’t have time to wonder where he got it, but was amazed by how he used it. In seconds, he was twirling the sling so fast she could barely see it, then with a fierce cry, he unleashed it. The ball flew through the air and slammed into one of the beasts, knocking the wind out of it. It shuddered and crumpled beneath the blow, crashing into the top branches of the blazing tree. Lizzy was about to shout praises when the beast shook its head and flew back into the fray.

  Lizzy knew neither the heroic children or Raleigh or the battered parents could hold off the creatures much longer. Anger forced its way from her heart to her lips, and she heard herself roar! A strong wind answered, blowing the fire the creatures had started into a storm. “Damn!” she cursed, realizing her rage had only made things worse. Helpless, she looked on. She knew the children were in terrible danger of the burning treehouse crashing in around them. She didn’t know if her little dragons could be burned, but she was sure Bradly and Raleigh could be. She also wasn’t sure if Ryan was even a shifter or what his vulnerabilities were.

  Seconds after the roar had left her lips, it was answered, and this time the tree limbs broke. There was a loud clash of thunder, a shriek that caused her to grab her ears and cry out. Suddenly a large eagle, the same one that had rescued her from her kidnappers, was among the griffins, ripping with its claws and tearing with its beak. One double-headed monster went down quick. It had not seen the giant eagle coming, and the great bird’s mind-numbing shriek had paralyzed the beast just long enough for the white-crowned eagle to rip one of its heads off. The dark creature screamed, blood spurting from its neck that swung like a loose fire hose, covering everything within range of the crimson spray. The other dragon-like creature had time to react and sunk both claws into the bird, blood and feathers tearing free. One of the dragon’s mouths was wide open. Its fangs dripped with the eagle’s blood, the warring bird desperately trying to break the dark beast’s hold. Then two things happened at once. Grandpa Brady found another projectile to sling. This time, he was using croquet balls from the lawn game set up in the back yard, and Lizzy formed another fireball. Brady’s lawn ball slammed into the dragon. The violence of the impact doubled the beast over. An instant later, Lizzy’s fireball smashed into its spine, breaking it’s back. The eagle broke free from the griffin’s grasp, and ripped into its neck, tearing great chunks out of it. The ancient serpent’s death-scream tore through the air, and then it was over. Like a deflated balloon, its body slammed into the burning tree. Brian and Shani recovered enough to catch the children as they jumped out of the tree house. In just a few minutes, everyone was safe and had backed away from the flaming branches. The children were crying; the adults panting. Brian was holding a broken arm, and Shani sat on the ground with her arms crossed holding her bruised ribs tightly as Bradly hovered protectively over her. The great eagle soared overhead screaming a victory cry. Lizzy’s eyes riveted on it. Brady grabbed a croquet ball and slowly stuffed it in his makeshift sling. Even the children stopped sniffling and watched. The huge bird made a tight circle. Screeching, it flew low over the huddled children and anxious parents, cawed loudly, and then soared swiftly out of sight.

  Shani watched as the huge black eagle’s form disappeared into the horizon. She was sore, and bleeding from a dozen small cuts where tree branches and falling pieces of tree house had struck her. She had already checked on her brood and noticed that they were already giggling and bragging, burning off their nervous energy.

  Shani looked at her husband who, shaking his head, grinned back, and then lastly at her father-in-law and Lizzy. Then Shani said, “I only have two things to say. First, if any one dares to quote some old black and white TV movie and say, “‘Who was that masked man?’ I’m going to slap him.” Her eyes deliberately focused on her father-in-law as she made her declaration. “And second,” again she looked directly at her husband’s sire, tilted her head, and in a scornful voice pointed at the makeshift sling still dangling from his long, hairy arm. “Dad, what in the hell are you doing with my best pair of panty hose?”

  The kids gasped and turned toward the ancient bigfoot. Gracie and Maggie’s hands covered their mouths, their eyes big as what-a-burgers. Brian and Lizzy also turned to see the old man’s hairy black face turn a rich purple. Lizzy couldn’t help herself; she giggled. Shani’s cold expression cracked like ice in a spring thaw. Brian hooted and bent over laughing, then groaned as his broken arm reminded him it was still broken.

  Brady looked down on his ferocious little daughter-in-law like a rottweiler would a Pomeranian and smirked.” Well, dang, Shanee! I needed a weapon, and they were hanging on the clothes line, so I grabbed ‘em up, and well, you saw what they could do. Now Lizzy can write all this down and record it for generations to come how the great Sasquatch Brady Huslu…” Eight pairs of eyes fastened on him. He paused and added, “…along with the help of his grandkids, and children, and one heck of a fireball-pitching… witch?” He looked at Lizzy for permission to use the word. She shrugged an I-guess-so shrug, accepting the label. “…killed two fierce griffins with an extra-large pair…” He saw Shani’s body stiffen and started again, “…large...” her dark eyebrows rose in warning, “small and delicate pair of panty hose belonging to his beautiful daughter-in-law.” Her body relaxed, and he finished the sentence, “…Shani Huslu.”

  Easton and Ryan and Bradly puffed up proudly at the thought of their deeds going down in an official record of the dragon riders, but then deflated a little as Gracie and Maggie looked over at the burning heap of their wonderful perch in the sky. “But... at what... cost?” Gracie asked, starting to sob.

  “Yeah, burned the
muffins, didn’t he?” Easton griped, then stared at his companions whose faces had turned red. Bradly looked at Easton, turned to Ryan, and nodded, then looked back at Gracie and Maggie and winked. Easton didn’t see it coming, and was immediately slugged by both girls and jumped on by his two brothers. Soon they were all howling in a big pile of punching and poking children with the adults yelling and pulling them apart.

  “Just being kids.” Brady smiled, holding Bradley two feet off the ground by the cuff of his neck. Then he whispered, “But it still doesn’t answer the question: Who was that masked… eagle?”

  Kisses of My Enemy

  William David Ellis

  ALTAR STONE PUBLISHING, MINEOLA, TEXAS

  Copyright © 2020 by William David Ellis

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  William David Ellis/Altar Stone Publishing

  Mineola, Texas 75754

  https://williamdavidellisauthor.com/

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book Layout © 2017 BookDesignTemplates.com

  Kisses of My Enemy / William David Ellis. -- 1st ed., book 3 in series

  ISBN 978-1-7338850-0-3