I found my childhood friend’s hand on my shoulder once again as she attempted to console me. I never cried as hard as in my life as I did from that moment. It was not that my father’s death was any greater or more traumatic than my mother’s passing. I never gave myself the opportunity to mourn. I looked up at my father’s still corpse when I heard a very subtle yet recognizable click.
I knew it was the cocking of a small handgun, and whoever was holding it had us covered. A deeply, familiar yet despised voice began to make its presence known.
"I don’t know why you bothered to come back. There is nothing here you could possibly want except to reunite with a family that is dead. I was looking for that small boy the man down the street the owner of the hardware store was glancing at for a very long time. The time came for me to sell him for a nice price, and he was nowhere to be found.
I had a good relationship with the store’s owner until that day. He never spoke to me, again. I tried to compensate him for the involuntary transgression by offering another little boy for free. I even offered a whole family for a very generous price, and he was never satisfied with the offers. That was the beginning. The crops started dying no matter what was done to sustain them.
No amount of tilling, fertilizing, or watering would restore them to a marketable value. Many of the slaves got sick and died. Beating them did not seem to bring them into compliance. Some looked forward to it in the chance that it would take them out quickly in their severely vulnerable conditions. I thought I would always have the support of my family until I saw a wagon with my wife and children on board traveling away from town. I shouted as loudly as I possibly could, so I know they heard me. I started chasing the wagon with tears streaming from my eyes.
My former wife’s only response was to beckon the driver to move faster. I was alone. News about the Northern States trying to impose the idea of releasing the slaves, knowing that it was much of the livelihood of the South, was spreading across the Confederate States, quickly. I was looking forward to having the Northern States taught a lesson about leaving the Southern economy alone. However, that did not happen.
I was going to sell what was left of the plantation until Union Soldiers came through, burning everything in sight. I was already miserable, and I wanted someone else to share my misery. Your father was thinking about marrying another of your kind from this plantation. I saw my opportunity to make myself feel better. He did not really want to speak to me, but I reminded him of his dead wife and lost son.
He wanted to kill me, but he knew I always kept my pistol in my pocket. The losses became too much to bear even after so many years. I told him about how I lost my life and how he was sharing the same fate. I walked out for a brief period, and he was swinging from a rope when I returned. You did not think that I would actually give a nigger the satisfaction of killing me did you?” I heard the gunshot, but I did not feel any pain or see any blood seeping through my clothes.
I turned around and looked on the ground to see an end to my misery. I honestly thought I was going to be the one with the bullet in my back, but that was not the case. It is for those reasons I could never get adjusted to living in a mansion. Although I did not fire the bullet ending his life, I did manage to find some small contentment with the events. I was about to leave before Mayella, the woman I grew up with in slavery, begged me to come to her place and stay.
I did not have any plans, and I knew my platoon leader would not be looking for me, anytime soon. I followed her to her cabin and we talked for what seemed to be a very long time. She managed to ease my tensions and put me to sleep with a smile. We eventually got married. Anyway, I am going to send you back to the area where you were before your encounter with me. I know I did not give you the most gracious treatment that one can experience, but I am proud to have you as one of my descendant’s.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You will understand when you look at the sword.”
“Okay.”
“Trouble, do not forget the lessons that you have learned here because you will need them.”
“If you disliked mansions so much, how come you kept the one during my training?”
“I do that to remind myself of the past and to prevent myself from becoming one of its victims.”
A loud screech filled his ears as he sat up in the same place he slept before Hezekiah's vision. Trouble quickly had a thought: It must have just been a dream. Suddenly, a familiar, heavy, southern accent began to speak, “I would not be so sure about that, but you can test that if you want to.”
“No, I think I’ll take your word for it,” responded the astonished teenager.
Trouble snatched the blanket. His hands began trembling upon grasping the jewel-crested sword. His shaky fingers slowly moved away from the weapon before he heard a familiar voice:
“Boy! Go ahead and pick up the sword. I have never seen a soldier who was scared of his own weapon.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to touch yo' sword, sir.” stated Trouble in a humble manner.
“Listen boy, I did not want you to handle or wield it unless you understood its significance. After the training, I saw how receptive you were to my experiences as a slave and a soldier. I have never been as proud of a predecessor as I am of you, but you have a very dangerous task ahead of you. Therefore, you need to be as careful and as prudent as possible. You still can’t touch my sword.”
“I don’t understand what you mean?”
“I have no reason to touch your sword.”
“Are you telling me that you’re giving me—?”
“Was it that difficult to figure out?”
Trouble stretched his legs and lowered his back upon the loud, trembling, rotten floor. He grasped and lifted the shiny scabbard above his head. He slowly unsheathed the sword. Brown pupils reflected a silver glimmer upon viewing the sword's finish. The new recipient saw a phrase inscribed on the blade: This sword has been awarded to SERGEANT HEZEKIAH BUFORD LA SALLE OF THE ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-FIRST INFANTRY for his outstanding service in the field of battle.
The teenager only realized at that moment the man who had been training him in his dreams was his great grandfather: Hezekiah Buford La Salle. A tear rolled past his pleasantly curved lips as he thought of his family’s legacy. The young man rose to his feet to see pitch darkness at the car's open door. He dashed behind a couple of stacked wooden crates in a knelt position.
If a lantern is burning within the car, someone is going to come back to check on it, and they probably would not want me as a guest in the car. Trouble quickly slid into an open, wooden crate he saw in the corner of his eye. I am going to have trainers that are not human? This should be really fun. God help me. Trouble's thoughts became distorted as his consciousness became heavier than lead before he felt himself floating. A backwards glance revealed his body curled in a fetal position inside of a wooden box. If I am up here, why is my body down there? The bewildered adolescent glanced around him before noticing the familiar yet unwelcome feeling of being drawn against his will. Every part of his body felt as though it were being stretched from one side of existence to the other. He looked above for what was less than a second only to travel through a bright tunnel before he had a chance to react.
The unexpected journey ended in a place that seemed to have absolute darkness. The involuntary visitor could feel the ground beneath his feet, but he could not identify the place. Trouble trembled and gnashed his teeth because the surrounding darkness felt like a blanket smothering him. I dunno know exactly what I did tuh deserve dis, but I thought I was given 'nother chance tuh stay out o' Hell.
“You have been given another chance, and this is not the place that you are thinking of,” replied a voice.
Trouble's heart stopped beating rapidly upon recognizing the friendly voice. Suddenly, the whole place shimmered with spectrums, bands, and white light emanating from a familiar being. The terrestrial glanced at the area engulfed in darkness only seco
nds ago. The visitor looked beneath his feet to see a perfectly level, shimmering, reflective, crystalline surface that had the depth of eternity. Large, colorless crystals with the height of mountains surrounded them.
The ground and the clear mountains magnified the light coming from the other sentient. Trouble's eyes glistened brighter than sunlight upon glancing at his host. The fifteen-foot being with beautifully folded wings upon his back held an intricately crafted sword that defied mankind’s craftsmanship in one hand and an equally complex shield in the other. The fourteen-year-old composed himself to properly greet the angel he had seen in Paradise.
“Trouble, step forward!” The trembling adolescent slowly extended his foot toward the angel.
“We have been monitoring your progress, and you have been doing very well; however, it has occurred to me and my group you do not know how to use your new-found powers as well as you should. I have the responsibility of doing as such since you are my charge.” I wanna know what he means, but I do not want him to turn me into ash for speaking out of term. The angel glared at him with a wry smile.
“I see that you have been taught discipline, restraint, and manners. You may speak.”
“I dunno know what ya think o' me, or what yo' plans are fo' me, but I’m willin' ta learn anything dat you're willin' ta teach me,” replied Trouble through bulged eyes and chattering teeth. He paused upon recalling something his host said earlier: “Ya said we as 'posed to you.”
“Indeed, I did.”
Instantly, Trouble felt a mild, burning sensation upon his arm before thrusting it away from the heat. He leapt from the spot before a subtle, amber glow became a thirty-foot, flaming billow. He removed his hands from his face to see beautiful, golden, and amber flames surrounding a large being shaped like a man. A white rushing wind sent him flying twenty feet and penetrated his clothes like water, leaving his skin with a frigid chill. Fragments of ice began to condense into a concentric ball until a bright explosion ended with another human form with white mist and condensation forming around it.
This being was completely clear with a mild, sky-blue accent covering its body. The passive observer barely opened his mouth before small, clear stones with the appearance of diamonds, formed in the midst. Trouble ducked as the stones flew like bullets in the same space his head occupied, only seconds ago. All of the stones crashed into one another with a blinding flash before another human-shaped form stood in its midst. It was obvious this entity was very solid and almost invincible.
Rainbows glistened off of his body with flashing, shimmering beams resembling disco lights. A rushing wind formed funnels around the group, and pushed Trouble twenty feet before he grasped a clear boulder to anchor himself. The current regrouped and took on a form shaped like a man. Small wind tunnels formed around this being and wrapped themselves around him as tightly as ropes. Bright, yellow electric currents surrounded them, and the area resembled an earthquake as it trembled before stillness permeated the immediate place.
An electric figure with the brightness of sunlight stood with folded arms as the current’s brilliance faded around the group. They all stood side by side with the same height as the first being. Trouble slowly released the large crystal as he viewed the beings with an open mouth and bulging eyes. He suddenly glanced at the first angel with his lips trembling. The angel nodded in the teenager's direction.
“I know dis may not seem like much, but you're some o' da mos' beautiful an' amazin' beings dat I've seen,” complimented the stunned adolescent. Some of the angels nodded as if to say thank you, and others stood as though he did not say anything at all. The first being looked and spoke, “I believe an introduction is in order. We are not permitted to give you our heavenly names; therefore, alternate names will be given to you for you to address us. You may refer to me as Medius.”
Flames expanded and rose from the fiery being before speaking to Trouble.
“You may refer to me as Fornax.” Rainbows, amber streaks, and white beams flashed throughout Trouble's eyes before a clear, solid being shook the ground with a single step in the observer’s direction.
“You may call me Diamus.”
He extended his hand before a current pushed him from behind as he stopped in front of the angel with the mild, blue accent.
“Vinda is the name you shall use to refer to me.”
Lightning flashed and temporarily blinded Trouble before a figure with glowing, currents stood in front of the bewildered teenager.
“Call me Choquer.”
Small droplets of water grazed Trouble’s skin before he leapt away. He realized he only felt the small breeze produced by a few waves crashing against the crystalline shore. Beams shimmered off of the body of water like sunlight off of the ocean. Medius calmly walked beside Trouble and extended an open palm toward the water as he spoke.
“This is Hydros. He is remaining in his present state to assist you with the training.” Trouble drew in deep breaths like an asthmatic as he gazed at everything around him.
The boy trembled and shook before a tap on the shoulder made him shudder upon staring up at Medius. The towering angel looked down upon the teenager and asked him a question:
“Are you ready to begin your training?”
“Not real—!”
Water slapped his face and saturated his clothes before he could respond. He threw me into the water without warnin’ or nothin’! Numerous currents applied enough pressure to crush vehicles against his body. His muscles burned with every ounce of strength they could use to resist it. Breath escaped his grasp with every movement. His legs kicked with the speed and fury of an engine. However, the currents were pulling him under despite his efforts to resist them. He noticed the supernatural body of water pulled him in the opposite direction for every motion he made in another.
Maybe if I fight my way to the bottom... A powerful current propelled him with such great force; He shot up through the water into the air with wide eyes and a gaping mouth upon staring down at the water from thirty feet above it. Icicles formed upon his arms legs and face as a freezing wind slapped him thirty feet through the air until his face and body slammed into something hard enough to crush his bones. A throbbing pain traveled though his head like an electric current in a circuit. Warm fluid trickled down the side of his face. He saw bloody fingers upon glancing at his hand.
Diamus' unsympathetic face stared down at him before a clear, solid, two-foot hand swatted him like a fly. Trouble's body felt completely bruised as he plummeted like lead. The target began to recall all of the provisions he learned of as well as the possibility of those he did not discover yet. He remembered when he was able to read the thoughts of the lynch mob he surrendered himself to for saving Reverend Stevenson and his followers. He recalled using the ability by accident and began further thinking: Could it be feasible to communicate with the angels through the same means?
“Yes.”
Trouble immediately recognized the telepathic voice of Medius, confirming his efforts had worked.
“Why are your angels attacking me?” inquired the bewildered trainee.
“It is part of the learning process. Part of learning how to use your powers involves drawing upon them under the direst circumstances.”
“What if I want to quit?”
“You always have a choice, but the decision to do so could result in greater consequences. After all, you were not given these abilities because you asked for them, nor do you have the option of forsaking the given tasks that were mentioned to you in Paradise without consequences, and you know what I mean.”
Trouble heeded Medius’ underlying warning and began to wonder something else. If I had been able to use these powers all along, how come the other angels have not been communicating with me? The answer came to him in a shocking yet practical revelation: They’re acting as my enemies; therefore, they are not obligated to communicate with me or tell me anything. Angels are spiritual beings that communicate through these means regularly, and t
hey’ve probably been reading my thoughts. That also explains one of the reasons I’m having such a difficult time fighting ‘em other than the fact that they are immensely powerful beings with abilities that I can’t even begin to imagine.
The juvenile immediately calmed his mind and focused on darkness. The determined combatant descended until an inch was between him and the water before a wall of ice rammed him. The trainee did not know until recently his training involved him fighting all of the angels at the same time. His face felt stinging pains as the wall pushed itself against his body.
Training? Dis feel like I'm fightin' for survival! If I have ta be defeated, I’m at leas' gonna give 'em uh fight tuh r'member! Dis wall o' ice had ta been put up by Glacia. Trouble jumped to his feet before the icy structure began collapsing. The icy entity rushed toward its target with blinding speed to grasp the teenager, but a blurred cartwheel maneuvered the juvenile to safety, and he grasped part of Glacia’s back before the structure was engulfed by the water. The Louisiana's native's fingers froze from touching the angel's back. A quick glance showed Fornax, Diamus, and Vinda flying like missiles toward him as he clung to another nemesis.
I coul' really use my... The jewel crested sword appeared in his palm with a vicious swipe at Glacia. Part of the water froze when Glacia’s arm touched it.
Trouble deeply inhaled, dove into the unfrozen portion of the water with his head narrowly missing being skewered by clear spears, fireballs, and unforgiving currents. The involuntary trainee felt very sharp, hard, and clear objects piercing through his shoulders, while he plunged in the body of his aqueous opponent. Diamus saturated the water like rain with thousands of bullet sized spears piercing it. Small purple clouds formed where Trouble bled, earlier. He felt himself becoming weaker as the currents were pushing him to the bottom.
Trouble's Always Watching Volume 1: Volume 1 (The Trouble Series) Page 25