The Guardian

by J. L McFadden

  The

  Guardian

  J.L McFadden

  Copyright © 2013 J.L McFadden

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1489521187

  ISBN-10: 1489521186

  DEDICATION

  Before I begin my thanks to everyone else that had a great impact on my life I would like to thank, mention and dedicate this book to the one who inspired the book and inspired myself, which would be Galina Kubas, not only did this story start to formulate its self when I met her, but she changed me in so many ways. She even pushed me in creating deadlines and finishing what I start instead of starting and stopping a project. I truly thank God for bringing her into my life.

  I would also like to thank my dear Grandma Stalker for always being there and being one of the influences on me reading so many books as a child and into my childish adult years.

  Reza you have been like a brother even for the longest times. We share a lot of the same values and hopes that the people of world will pay more attention and take better care of its self. No matter if it was about me almost dying surfing or some other stupid thing in life we have had a lot of laughs. I wish you the best in your surfing and life.

  Elena and Natasha Churikova, Natasha was the sweetest of my new found friends in L.A and was a huge help in my beginning to study Russian and start to explore my Slavic roots. I watched both these girls go from barely being able to speak English in the land that I was born in and become successful in different ways; when I decided not to just come, but stay in their home land through the miracle of internet, they both gave huge amounts of support and seeing their struggles made me dig my heals in more. Elena I promise I will write the one about Ukraine like you suggested. Also there were a gaggle of other Russians, Ukrainians, etc. that where near and dear to me.

  My new found friends in Ukraine rather it be those from school, Aikido or those I have just ran into along the way I would also like to thank. For some reason, after moved here I felt at home for the first time. I have never felt that in my life, moving from city to city, state to state, I always felt I wasn’t home. I may not have been born here, but I love the people and traditions of this beautiful country.

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  i

  1

  Dreadful Awakening

  1

  2

  The Questioning

  15

  3

  The Awakening

  19

  4

  The Baltic Sea

  25

  5

  The Pub

  31

  6

  The Guest

  38

  7

  Rebirth?

  47

  8

  The Wolves Den

  52

  9

  The Real Fun Begins

  63

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  Adela’s Dilemma

  Unsuspected

  Wolf Up

  Unforeseen Troubles

  Adela’s Visit

  A New Way of Training

  Day Two of Adela’s Boot Camp

  The Return Home

  Adela’s Speech

  A New Day

  Change in the Air

  Longing for a Bout

  Vixens Visit

  72

  81

  88

  97

  109

  120

  133

  155

  165

  169

  182

  200

  210

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Cover art by Olesya Lesyonovna

  Dreadful Awakening

  Awakening in an all-out panic, completely saturated in sweat, John’s heart was beating uncontrollably and erratically, screaming at the top of his lungs with his hands clasped so strongly onto his sheets that he could feel his hands burning from over-excursion. Panting deeply trying to catch his breath, the nightmare was so fresh that he could still smell the flesh charring in his nostrils; the memories of that fatal night still haunted even a full year later.

  Clasping his face into the palms of his hands, with the veins still bulging out from the death grip he had on his sheets and mattress, he tried his damnest to relinquish that hellish memory out of his mind.

  That dark night that he lost his three closest friends in that crash that twisted, scrap a tin. Blood dripping and running from the seats of the overturned car that swerved to miss the stranger that blindly stepped out into their path; with his hands still trembling he could hear his girlfriend grasping for breath, sobbing and with the little breath so could gather begging for her life to spared. He remembered reaching out for Kathy’s hand trying to offer her some sort of calming compassion, while he was pinned half in and out of the car until out of the blue the car exploded and a week later John awoke out of his comma.

  How was it that he was the one that survived, the only survivor of them all?

  The police told him that he was ejected from the car and that is why he was the only one that lived. Were those not my memories that I have? Could my mind really have added these false memories or was it something else going on” he wondered to himself. How could he remember his dying love in front of him reaching out for him suffering so, weeping, and begging God for her next breath and how could it not be real? How could the smell of blood and his buddies flesh smoldering from the flames that were engulfing what was once the small, red Lancer that Keith’s father had bought him. With the memory of the smell of burning flesh and gasoline and his friends screaming still freshly ringing through his mind just like it cut through his ears on that too far off night.

  Slowly beginning to step-out of bed and collapsing onto the floor and slowly heads to the bathroom, crawling for the first few feet until he finally got up onto his feet stumbling towards the medicine cabinet where his medications were stashed. With one hand firmly planted on the wall as a support as he opened the cabinet with the other shaking as he reached for his usual fix that the doctor had prescribed for him.

  Usually, he takes two at a time and with the severity of this attack he decided to throw back four. After closing the mirror, he rests his dead on the mirror hoping to calm down still having his heart beat rapidly seemingly in his throat. “Please god, make this stop,” he whispers to himself, “for Christ’s sake please tell me why this is happening.” With his pulse finally starting to come back down and his breath slowing, he felt as if maybe he could make it to his meeting with the support group. That never made him feel any better.

  He looked up to be startled by a beautiful woman in his mirror falling back into the wall and down to the floor. He cautiously began to stand up, peaking over the sink half in fear of what might be in the mirror; there was no one but what the hell it was so real. She had shoulder length dirty blond hair and eyes of ice. She was like an angel not a mark on her face. “Fucking great as if I was not already crazy enough,” he shouted, “How much more can I handle before I get slapped into a padded room.”

  “Ah shit, half past one already.” Quickly, he began to get ready with his sloppy wrinkled clothing, his laces tucked into the shoes and tosses on his ratty red cap with bits knocked into the lip of it. While trying to lock the door with the old skeleton key shaking and rattling into the old door; if it was not for determination he would never get it locked. Jetting down the old rickety stairs and out onto the street hoping and praying to make the meeting on time. Luckily, it was only a few blocks away in this old run dow
n district. As he cuts around the corner he catches the same woman’s face in the old dirty and cracked window, and as he turns his head, closing his eyes in disbelief, at second glance she was gone again. “Damn, what is next?”

  Opening the old wooden door you can hear its hinges creaking and moaning as the floor boards squeak under foot. He tugs at the bill of his cap in respect as he takes it off entering into the circle of people sitting in old wooden chairs. Taking a deep breath John takes a seat preparing for what he knew what was coming next. “Mr. Kremble do you think that you are any better than the rest?” said the low mono tone voice from a thin black male dressed like a college student from the 70’s,“What makes you feel like you can disrespect the others by trotting in hear whenever you feel?” John knew Tom was going to rip into him as soon as he sat down. John just shrugged his shoulders. “Why do you not want to make any progress?” Tom asked.

  John replied back, “I do, but how, how can I when I still have all this noise in my head?”

  “What do you mean by noise?”

  “Most days, I wake up screaming, seeing what happened in the car. I know that they say I was ejected but I keep seeing this other nightmare in my head as if it was my real memory.”

  Tom set back puzzled not knowing what to say next. “John, do you have any other delusions or signs?”

  “No sir, just this one and it seems so real.”

  “Have you spoken to your Doc about your scripts?”

  “Yes, they say that it is just my mind trying to deal with all the trauma I suffered.”

  Tom sat for a moment clicking his pen on the side of his seat, disturbed by yet another doctor not really listening to his patients “Well, are you willing to speak to a friend of mine and see if he has an alternative?”

  “I am willing to speak to anyone sir,” John said with his head looking at his feet with his voice cracking, “Anything that might make this at lease seem less real.”

  “I will call you after I speak with him,” Tom said in a calming voice trying to set John at ease, “We will get through this together; you are not alone in this, do you understand me John?” John nodded his head.

  “Alright, everyone back here on Wednesday at 2pm sharp. No stragglers this time.” Everyone headed towards the door while John remained. Tom laid his hand on his shoulder and said “Hold in there son; you have been through hell and back and I am not giving up on you.”

  “Thank you sir, I do not know what to say.” Say nothing, go home and try to get some rest.” John shook his head and gathered his wits about himself and head for the door.

  On his way out of the building he noticed the woman again just for a moment in another window. What is going on with me? Am I completely bat shit crazy? I have to go home and get some sleep. That’s it; it has to be me taking too many pills today. I must be tripping or something.

  The only thing that was even slightly pleasurable to him was Frank’s hot dog stand at the corner of Baker and Main. This was the only thing he looked forward to everyday, but today was not his day at all.

  “Hey Johnny!” sounded from an unwanted voice coming from behind John. Damn it! Officer Marco again, hunting me down again.

  “What do you need Officer Marco?”

  “I need to understand why is it a piece of shit like you is up and walking around while my little sister is six feet under,” Growled the over aggressive cop, with spit flying out of his mouth as he spoke,” I need to understand how God let a blight like yourself be the only survivor out of four.”

  The Officer shoves John, but not moving him too far. “I need to know why you do not even have a scratch on you after an accident like that.”

  “I wonder myself every day as I pray for death on most days.” Screamed back John to Marco’s verbal attacks “What do you want from me?!” John screamed “I loved your sister with every breath I have ever taken since the day I met her! I fucking keep waking up to the smell of her blood and her praying to God for him to spare her! I was not driving the damn car!”

  Officer Marco just glared at John and rebutted,” Yeah well, every night I get to hear my mom cry herself to sleep. Sobbing the whole night and then I have to help my father to his new sleeping spot on the couch after he passes out at the table from drinking all day. You have no family to morn you. Why did you get to live?”

  “How the fuck am I supposed to know? I guess I was on God’s torture list. I keep seeing your sister reach for me in my dreams and everyone tell me I was ejected from the car and my memories are not real, how do you think I feel? Dying that night would have been better!”

  “HEY!” Shouted a third voice from another Officer ‘What the fuck are you doing? Are you torturing this kid again? You are twisted man. You need a lot of couch time.”

  “This is none of your business,” fired back Officer Marcos “this is a personal issue!” “This little sick twisted torturous fetish you have with this boy is done. The next time I hear about you disturbing this boy I am going to have your badge.” Captain Fisher retorted.

  Officer Marcos stormed off swearing under his breath. “You alright boy?” John just shook his head and said “It is what it is, thank you.” “If it wasn’t for him getting so many thugs off the street, I would bust him back to meter maid.”

  “No no don’t, he lost his sister and she was the world to him. This is not who he is at all Captain. I swear. He used to be a really good man.”

  “You have not had it easy either boy.” Yeah, but I also do not have to see my family falling apart like he does.” The Captain looked at John in disbelief not believing a broken young man have so much love for someone who wanted to cause him so much pain. “Alright boy, if there is any other run ins, give me a call.”

  “No, need sir.” John said as he started to walk away and head towards home.

  He could not believe that he was so happy to see his ran down apartment with his rusted half broken bead from the 60’s, in the old dilapidated apartment building that was mostly occupied by people that had already given up on life. Most of the people lived off of Government checks and the others were taking whatever job they could get to just make ends meet. It seemed a fitting place for someone who wanted to die instead of living. He crawled into bed kicking off his shoes one at a time. Pulling his pillow close and praying for a better day when he awoke.

  The late evening quickly drifted into late night, where the dream began to take place again. Again, he was in the burning car with his girlfriend reaching out for him as his friends hung unconscious from the accident. He reached his hand out to the girl he loved trying to give her comfort and hope as she wept and begged for salvation from this horrendous accident that their lives hung in the balance from. Right as his and her finger tips began to brush each other trying for a grasp, John felt a strong grip on his ankle and quickly seen himself being ripped away from his college sweetheart; seeing himself being flung through the hair slamming into a dumpster, but feeling two soft hands behind his head protecting his head from the impact and he could feel his face fully cushioned by a woman’s bosom. He could hear the explosion and feel this angelical creature shielding him from the blast. He could feel the impact hit her and she pushed back doing her best not trying to allow it to harm him. He could hear her grinding her teeth in pain. The blast was so strong it rammed the dumpster that he had landed against clean up onto the wall that was behind it. How could this woman have the strength to push back against this blow and protect him? She held him close for a few seconds afterwards and pulled back slightly aligning their eyes to each other, so she could see his condition. Her eyes were a haunting icy blue and somewhat green, but he felt safe and somewhat at home gazing into them.

  Suddenly, an obnoxiously loud and rapid knock was coming from his door that startled him out of his sleep. It was Marcos screaming” Wake the fuck up now! Get your ass moving we have got to go now!”

  “What the hell is going on?” John leaped out of bed heading for the door and preparing for the worst.r />
  As soon as John turned the tumblers to the door Marcos shoved his way into the room “Get your shit on,” Marcos spouted” Mom is going hysterical balling her eyes out asking for you.”

  “What? What happened?” “I am telling you she has been off her rocker ever since the accident. Here your shoes get them on and hurry the fuck up, I do not want her in the funny house.”

  John quickly strapped on his shoes and bolted out the door with Marcos. Both men were on a full out sprint towards Marcos’s parent’s house.

  “I am telling you man,” Marcos said while being half out of breath “mom is not the same as you remember. I am hoping to God you can calm her down.”