Trouble's Always Watching Volume 1: Volume 1 (The Trouble Series)

by Courtney Smith

  “How long ya been dere, and how come ya didn’t ‘low me ta ride on a horse, sir?” asked the recently cleaned adolescent.

  “Boy! You think I am going to allow you to ride on the back of my horse after you fell in the outhouse, smelling like something that came out of its backside!” shouted Hezekiah.

  “Nevermind, sir,” replied Trouble, disappointedly. Hezekiah tugged at some ropes on his horse's sides, releasing two, rusty buckets from it. Trouble looked up at Hezekiah and asked, “Oh, ya came up here ta get some water, sir?”

  “No, but you are going to,” declared Hezekiah.

  “Are ya sure ya want me ta brang you water after I fell in uh outhouse; you don’t thank that’s nasty?”

  “Boy, I said I wanted you to bring the water, but I did not say what I was going to do with it, and besides, I told you that you did not have the right to ask questions!” responded Hezekiah, vehemently. Trouble walked to the side of the horse to get the buckets, and he felt the heel of a boot pressed against his forehead, knocking him over without hurting him.

  “What exactly did I do ta deserve dat, sir?” asked the bewildered guest with bulging eyes and a slightly tilted head.

  “Nothing, but I am just letting you know who is in charge!”

  “You act like you so high an’ mighty, but I bet ya wouldn’t be able to las’ in tha cotton fiel’ like I had ta work!”

  “Boy! You have no idea who you are talking to about working in the field!”

  “Yeah, I know you c'n ride uh horse 'round it, sir! I asked what you c'n do in it wit' yo' hands.”

  “If you really want to know, go to sleep tonight, and I will see you tomorrow morning!”

  “Where'd ya want me ta take these buckets?"

  Trouble quickly grabbed handles of the buckets and enthusiastically walked back to the river to fill them. If I had gott'n outta da riv'r instead o' actin' like I's bathin' like Cleopatra, I coulda had dat outhouse rebuilt befo' sunset.

  The juvenile's muscles felt like boiling lava as he gasped for breath. Trouble lifted his head to see the mansion. He walked to the black, iron gate of the fence surrounding the mansion, and he set the buckets down with water nearly splashing out of them. He peered through the bars at the green grass and emerald-green trees swaying in the nightly breeze.

  The young man spat in the mansion's direction before turning around and trotting off into the darkness. Trouble approached the outhouse, and he saw a blanket outside waiting for him. His eyelids drooped heavily with his final glance at his environment. His weary conscious yielded to fatigue, and he was snoring before his head struck the ground.

  Trouble slept soundly before he suddenly heard extremely loud noises breaking the silence and his peaceful rest. He looked to his right to see rusty rakes, hoes, axes, and shovels falling beside his head. A big, black boot settled an inch from his face as he blinked his eyes. The bewildered, young adult looked at the large figure standing over him.

  “Alright boy, you were talking a lot of big mess; let’s see if you can support your words!” belted out Hezekiah. Trouble smiled very confidently and rose to the occasion. A cool breeze messaged their fingers on their way to the orchard. Trouble skipped behind Hezekiah on their way.

  “You think you can do as much work as I can don’t you boy?” asked Hezekiah.

  “No. I can su’pass ya, sir. You may wanna get on yo’ horse ta keep up,” boasted the challenger.

  “Well, let’s make a little wager. If I surpass you in the progression, you have to do whatever I say under any circumstances without questioning or any of your back talk.”

  “Huh? That’s funny. I thought ya woulda have been pummelin’ me, anyway. I would ask ya what I get out of it, but I’m not allowed to ask questions. I would like my powers back long wit’ some explanations,” retorted Trouble. Hezekiah laughed.

  “You’re right about that, but I would prefer the satisfaction of humiliating you. I am not promising you anything, but I will consider it.”

  “Why should I participate if ya not gonna—!” started the youth, before he saw an open palm quickly raised in the air.

  “Nevermind, sir. So, how do ya wanna be embarrassed?” inquired the enthusiastic, confident challenger.

  “Well, if you can comprehend it, we are going to pick as many of the apples in the orchard as feasible. Whoever picks the most apples wins the bet. Prepare to become mulch, boy! You should be familiar with it since you smelt like fertilizer!” taunted Hezekiah.

  Sweat saturated Trouble's hands, while he grasped the numerous fruits. Half-second glances showed Hezekiah working, smoothly and steadily. Trouble sassed and shouted, “We haven’t even been workin’ uh minute, and I’m already beatin’ ya by two baskets. I really hope you not uh sore loser.”

  “Well, you have plenty of time to beat me because we are going to be doing this all day,” informed Hezekiah, calmly.

  “You mus’ really love punis’ment if you wanna be humiliated all day,” teased the competitor.

  Sunbeams pressed against his face, and his calloused hands continued picking apples. Trouble grazed his face with his hand, gathering salty, flowing beads and tugged his clothes in a quick, repetitive fashion to cool himself. My muscles ain't been this so' in uh while, but puttin' dat crazy man in his place'll be worth it!! Trouble smiled as he glanced at his seven barrels of apples. Then, he casually walked over to the area he had last seen Hezekiah.

  The burly gentleman watched the descending sun's golden glow become mandarin with its beams settling upon a stumbling teenager, smiling at him.

  “So, are you ready to claim your prize?”

  “I’m surprised ya have ta ask. I don’t know what it is, but I’m lookin’ forward ta it.”

  “How many barrels have you collected thus far?”

  “I got at least seven barrels ready fo’ yuh.”

  “Well, I will give you your prize”

  The large man stood up, walked past a couple of containers, and reached into one of the barrels past the bright, shiny apples and handed him a brown apple with a foul scent. Trouble held the apple up to his nose, inhaled deeply before gagging, and glance at Hezekiah.

  “Why’d ya gimme a rotten apple an’ call it uh ‘prize,’ sir?” inquired the mildly disappointed teenager.

  “Boy, didn’t I tell you that you couldn’t ask any questions? You said that you collected seven barrels of apples, right?”

  “Yes, sir” replied the competitor with some impatience.

  “Look to your right, and see how many barrels that I have filled,” commanded Hezekiah. The adolescent's smile and gait immediately shattered with his mouth gaped open, as he stared at fifteen barrels of apples. Hezekiah turned around from his position and laughed.

  “You might want to make sure that you have won before you declare victory. You are lucky you even got the apple that I gave you, Snow White.”

  “Yes sir,” replied Trouble, humbly.

  “Let me tell you something else, boy. The reason that I have surpassed you is because I did not think of gathering apples in terms of a competition. I was just thinking about taking my time and doing what comes, naturally. I know if you work at a steady pace and speed occasionally, then you will get much more done than if you rush throughout the whole period and wear yourself out. I saw you wearing yourself out in the process of trying to beat me. I know you noticed I seemed to have more energy than you do. I can show you part of where my experience comes from,” informed Hezekiah.

  The large, burly man stood upon his feet, turned around, and promptly removed his military vest. He turned around to reveal something on his back that brought Trouble to his knees. The man’s muscular back was covered with scars and blemishes as far as the eye can see.

  “I know you know something about these scars and blemishes I have on my back because I know how your mother whipped you because of your bad behavior.”

  “Yeah, but I actually deserved da ones I got ‘cause I was uh very mischievous boy, but, that d
on’t explain how ya got yo’ scars,” acknowledged Trouble. “Anyway, how did ya know ‘bout that?”

  “’Was ‘a very mischievous boy?’ I know everything about you, and I do not have to answer your question since I won the bet. You have a real problem with listening don’t you, boy?! I will say there is a reason for everything, and everything will be revealed in due time. I will not tell you about how I know who you are and your life until later, but I will tell you about the scars on my back."

  “Are ya tellin’ me that you uh former slave that eventually ‘came uh Civil War soldier that fought ‘gainst tha Confederacy?” asked Trouble.

  “Do you think this uniform came from The Salvation Army? I don’t know anything else like it,” answered Hezekiah. The adolescent closed his eyes and inhaled, deeply.

  Trouble opened his eyes and gazed at the apple, intently. The teenager slowly raised his arm to place the apple near his mouth before a swift blow knocked it out of his hand. Then, Hezekiah extended his hand over toward him with a bright, fresh, and green apple in his palm. The surprised young man looked at the apple and returned his glance to Hezekiah.

  “Is dis some kinda trick?” inquired Trouble.

  “Not unless you forgot how to eat. You know to open your mouth, put food in it, chew, and swallow, right?” asked the towering man.

  He glanced at Hezekiah out of the side of his eyes before happily placing the apple near his mouth. The deeper his teeth were immersed within the fruit; the more pleasure he received from the intense flavor. Trouble allowed the sour juice to roll around his tongue and experience the blissful effervescence spumes upon his tongue. Hezekiah glanced pensively at the young man eating: There might be some hope for this young man and the world, yet! His attitude is getting better! The grateful teenager looked up and expressed gratitude:

  “Thank you, sir”

  “You are welcome,” responded the large, burly man as he heard the thankfulness in the visitor’s tone.

  The following morning before light came to the atmosphere, Hezekiah walked over to the broken outhouse, and he saw the vigilant young man standing near the outhouse, waiting for anything. Hezekiah looked proudly at him.

  He has finally learned.

  The watchful adolescent stared directly at the veteran and nodded slightly in Hezekiah's direction as the man came closer. The war veteran returned the nod with a smile.

  “I’m ready to work, sir.”

  “I see. All I really want you to do is take those buckets and retrieve water from the river—.” Hezekiah’s speech was replaced by laughter as he continued, “the river where you had your cleansing after your plunge into the...”

  “I got the idea, sir!”

  Twigs and sticks broke with each step as leaves and branches grazed his face from overhanging trees until the sound of rushing water paused his feet. He slowly walked toward the clearing until he was near the edge of the bank. His hands dipped the buckets into the water until they filled within seconds, but he had to fight the force of the current to get them out. The determined laborer lifted the water out of the river and proceeded to carry them to the front of the mansion.

  Trouble steadied the buckets until a thunderous sound shook the ground. He ducked after a few bullets nearly removed his ear. Smoke clouded his vision as he rose to his feet. The stunned worker dropped the buckets and ran as he saw soldiers in gray uniforms shooting at him. This would have been much easier if I had my powers.

  Men in dark-blue uniforms motioned for him to approach them. He quickly crept as he moved toward the trenches of Union Soldiers. The surprised spectator looked around and shouted, “Where is Hezekiah!” The soldiers looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

  “Who's Hezekiah?” replied one of the soldiers with his shoulders hunched and hands extended.

  The teenager jumped to his feet and charged into the volleys of smoke, gunfire, and screams on the battlefield. He slid through fumes and flying dirt. Leaves and branches scratched his face before a bush’s branch eventually became still beside him. He ran over to a large, blue jacket he saw draped over a corpse. His hands trembled, and his eyes filled with tears upon lifting the soiled garment.

  Blood dripped from the mourner's clenched fists as his tears were replaced by a scowl. The young man grabbed and cocked the rifle, as he searched for his friend's killer. Trouble charged a confederate soldier with his bayonet pointed at his back before the target vanished. He observed the blood-spattered battlefield fading until a pure, white background replaced it. The self-appointed avenger grasped the rifle leapt backwards from the weapon's sudden disappearance. His mouth flew open as he observed the scenery. What has just happened?

  “You passed, boy” responded a familiar voice.

  Trouble turned around to see Hezekiah standing in front of him.

  “I passed what?”

  “Everything. All of the things that you endured and performed were for a reason and part of your training. I was not allowed to say you were being tested because part of it was your ability to act without necessarily being prepared. For instance, when you were told you would be housed in the outhouse, the idea was not for you to sleep but for you to stay awake and stay on guard.

  I admit it was funny to see you fall through the roof into the mess below, but I figured having that experience would allow you to learn the ultimate purpose of the exercise. You did not do that at first, and I decided to drop some agricultural tools beside your head although we did not use them. You finally got the idea after you admitted defeat when I collected more apples than you did.

  When you started showing me respect without my having to touch you, I saw you were learning humility on your own. Finally, the most important lesson you learned was courage in the face of danger. You ran for safety until you noticed I was gone, but the drawback in the lesson is despite how brave you were, you ran out without observing your surroundings. You decided to run without looking at your environment because you were hurt by my supposed death.

  I am touched you thought enough of me to want to avenge my death, but you should be aware of everything around you at all times. Normally, your powers give you extra sensory awareness, but if you do not rely on your normal senses as much as you rely on your other senses, then it could create a disadvantage for you. You need to use your ordinary abilities as well as those you acquired through your angelic encounter.”

  “How'd ya know dat I was not aware of my surroundin's?”

  “Because I was able to approach you without your awareness.”

  “So, does this mean that my training is over?” inquired Trouble.

  “The first half, but another more thorough session will begin afterwards.”

  “When will you begin training me for the second session?”

  “No time.”

  “I don’t understand. You said that I’m gonna have a ‘second session,’ but you said that you will not train me.”

  “That’s right. There will be a second session, but I will not be training you. The next group of trainers is going to be a group of beings, notice I said beings and not people, who will be giving you some thorough instructions.”

  “Should I be scared? You make it sound as though the next groups of trainers aren’t human.”

  “Well boy, I am certainly glad you can listen. I am not going to tell you anything except the next group of trainers will not necessarily be able to experience the same kinds of infirmities you have; therefore, they will not be nearly as sensitive to any of your needs as I am. Oh, by the way, the men whom you have seen shooting at you and the soldiers who have rescued you are all figments of my imagination.”

  “Why am I gonna to have trainers dat are not human?”

  “I will tell you this much. You have been given a task that is going to require much more than any human can provide. I have fought in the Civil War and overcome many soldiers and rescued many people of various cultures. I did not receive the recognition I and many other black soldiers deserved for res
cuing soldiers who were pinned in certain battles and were about to be slaughtered by the troops of the Confederacy. There was a Lieutenant whom was awarded a jewel-crested sword with many valuable stones.

  I actually did more in the war, and I actually rescued the Lieutenant. I did not get any recognition from the United States as a whole. But one night when I was in my home, I saw this same Lieutenant a few days after he was awarded the sword. He expressed his gratitude, and handed me the same sword that was awarded to him at the ceremony. He was extremely grateful for the rescue.

  He gave me the sword with the type of humility that rivals a slave’s. Trust me when I say this because I am speaking from experience. The sword would have ordinarily had his name engraved on it, but he managed to get it changed to have my name, instead. I knew he went through a lot of trouble to find out who I was and get the sword engraved, again. It was one of the most touching moments that I have ever experienced in my life, but he warned me not to display it to anyone, even as a veteran.

  I would still be accosted and accused of theft if anyone saw someone black with that type of ornament. I mention this because the next group of trainers you have are perfect considering the task you have been given.”

  “Why am I gonna have trainers dat 're not human?”

  “What I have mentioned to you is some of the flaws and infirmities that are associated with people; however, you are being trained in the way you are because of the task you have been given. Your task is to vanquish an enemy far more powerful than any human being has ever been or will ever be with some fanatically rare exceptions. This is an enemy who has plagued people with death and misery since nearly the beginning of life and has actually been given the task of allowing people to be transferred to other worlds according to their character.