Sunday turned sour: The church was full with a lot of sinners today, but the minister was only talking to me. He seemed to be staring right at my baby-blues and didn’t like what he was seeing. I told myself not to blink and don’t smile. It’s a western showdown, let him draw first. My face wanted to turn away and yield, but I remained strong; no flinching. The minister backed off and dropped his eyes just long enough to snort: “Page 97 and sing like you mean the words.”
The audience began singing: “I was lost deep in sin and far from the peaceful shore.” They were singing about me. The minister must have told them that I was the wayward sheep of the congregation and it was up to them to drag me from the swirling waters.
I gazed about the spacious worship center. Everybody was looking at me as they sang. Their eyes seemed to be saying: “You poor soul, why are you so weak, be a man and stand up and confess your mischief ways. We know what you did – sinner!”
I stood up alright but they weren’t going to intimidate me any longer. I screamed: “You bunch of crybabies. You are always complaining about standing in line, or too much traffic, or someone is in your way. All of you are self-righteous, do-nothings, and don’t understand what the edge of life is all about; the truth of it all. You just don’t know!”
Ellie stood up beside Eddy and tried to reason with him, but it was not getting through – he was in a trance. It got quiet, really quiet. No one said a word until the minister held up both hands: “Mr. Ripple, what is the matter, are you alright?”
“Yes sir! Outstanding sir! I know what you’re going to do! Tonight, you’re planning on sending me out on another LRRP mission. This time I won’t make it back. Don’t you understand. I’m short with only a few days left. I’m going home. Must you do this to me?”
The minister was now wearing a full-bird colonel’s uniform; jungle fatigues with cap and insignia. The look on his face typified a condescending officer pretending to console a shell-shocked soldier. “Sgt. Riffle, what is a LRRP mission? Tell this body of loyal patriots what’s keeping you from your assigned duty!”
“Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol, sir! As if you didn’t know, it’s a dark and dangerous trek through bush, vines, and skeeters. It’s enemy territory all the way with gooks hiding everywhere, or two-step snakes – or worse; booby traps. Sometimes we don’t come back. Some of us are never found. To stay alive, we have to do things. I can’t take it anymore. But you war-mongers don’t care. You are heartless. Like all the other desk-sitters, you hold meetings. You live frivolous lives with authority to blame the whole mess on little old me. I’ve had just about enough of this war and I’m going to – a sudden and startling wake up!”
Eddy quickly opens his sore and frantic eyes: “Where am I?”
He had no clue about his circumstances, but just looking around the room brought him back to consciousness. He was in the Emergency Room! “What have I done?”
Ellie stood nearby but was leaning on a chair. She looked scared while talking to a doctor! “He hasn’t done this lately. It seems that he just goes back to the jungles. That’s where his nightmares live. I thought that he was better, but he can’t forget or forgive. It’s stuck in his mind, somewhere. I’m more than just being worried. This episode was the worst. What I could tell, he was fighting himself while in church; his good versus his bad. He almost went into a fit of terror.”
Mumbling: “I’m sorry Ellie. I don’t know what happened. Something came over me that I had no control – hope I didn’t hurt anyone. So sorry.”
After tests and examinations, nothing could be pinpointed except mental induced trauma and a return of PTSD. Something triggers these episodes. What is it that seeps into the dark places of his mind and wrenches hurtful memories free – to explode?
Medicines didn’t help, but it made everybody feel better that it might. Eddy played along, but inside he felt that it was hopeless and therefore refused further treatments. His position: Nothing will change his past where he experienced many sorrowful things and some of them were of his own choosing. He has no excuse for himself. It’s all there on his permanent record.
Church folks were aware of Eddy’s sickness and tried to help. They understood his condition and deemed it the proper thing for Eddy to continue his deaconship. He agreed with the church board and resumed his duties like collecting the offering, calling on the sick, maintenance of the building, delivering communion to the shut-ins and serving on the church board. He even taught Sunday School.
Over the years, Eddy buried himself in his work profession and became a success. He and Ellie also became the proud parents of twin daughters which he loved dearly. His PTSD went into relative submission. But, even with all this effort, something was just not right. His conscience was not healed, but instead lurked beneath the surface, waiting for the first sign of weakness.
Chapter Two
“The Wages of Sin”
This “wages of sin” chapter is revealed by his own lips and brings the reader up to date on his life, achievements, failures, and his chilling mental state. Disaster is near!
So, I played with matches and got burnt. I willingly allowed myself to be compromised by playful teasing and for my trouble, I was paid “the wages of sin.”
The History of Present Time:
My name is Eddy Edward Riffle, but most people just call me Eddy – some used to call me The Deacon, but not lately. Florida, my home, known as the sunshine state, attracts millions of fun-seekers from around the globe every day. It’s a perfect place to sneak in a few sins, commit crimes, or even a murder! Some get caught, some don’t. I work for the ones that do.
After my service in the Vietnam War, and on the GI Bill and Uncle Sam’s student loan program, I graduated from State University. A few years later, I graduated from Law College. My current life: “Attorney at Law, Private Investigator, Public Defender – Orange County.”
I perform my services for one thing: “I do this for money – as much as I can get. I don’t care if they are guilty or not.” I’m not at all particular about my clientele because I play it smart. I always stay at least two steps ahead of my clients and their activity – as I said: I just want their money! If I sound like I’m too big for my pants, you’re right. That’s my modus operandi and I’ve still got some room in those extra-large-triple-wide britches!
Personally, I was doing well: Ellie and I were happy – she’s a beautiful lady. And, somehow with her, I fathered twin daughters, Lynn and Niki – both now happily married – and I have two grandkids: Jamie and Aaron. Both of their dads, my sons-in-law, served their country in Afghanistan. Then, there’s that very nice career that I had in a very successful law firm in Tampa, Florida. ‘Had’ is a big word!
My relationship with my family was like all middle-class Americans – worked hard and enjoyed the weekends. I often ask myself, “What went wrong?” But then I know the answer – It’s in the back of my mind and eats at me! I’m estranged from my wife and children because I cheated. I pretty much am a dirty no-good rat that has a license to associate with other dirty no-good rats – that’s what keeps me going! I thrive on being with people who are in sorry shape because my life is not much different than theirs and not an example for others to follow – filled with much regret.
Everything was going my way and my reputation was blossoming. The partners of the firm projected huge plans for me and gave me some of the headline cases. I didn’t disappoint them and I was pulling in mega-bucks for the firm and myself. But, like all numbskulls, I let myself be suckered into a mess that derailed everything.
It all started when I put a gag on my personal code of integrity and soothed my conscience by telling that watchdog: “It’s alright, Eddy. What’s a little fun going to hurt? I won’t go too far or venture too much. Besides, everybody is doing it these days, so why not me? Nobody will know – it’s all a secret.” It began with my fooling around with the girls in the office staff – nothing too bad, but wrong. Small stuff usually leads to large stu
ff. So, I played with matches and got burnt. I willingly allowed myself to be compromised by playful teasing and for my trouble, I was paid “the wages of sin.” And to boot, my episodes returned with a vengeance.
Aebra Ann Arlington (triple AAA – Amorous, Alluring, Attack) is her name and climbing the ladder to success was her game. She possesses the intelligence and savvy required to have easily “someday” made it all the way to the top of our law firm, but she had no intentions of waiting on someday. Her age was pulling forty and for her, it was now or never. I was in her way and had to be eliminated. It was an easy task because I was an easy mark. I’ve always believed that people are inherently good and because of that misconception, I could not see the worst coming out of Aebra. She reported to me and that made it harassment. “Also, I’m old enough to be her father!”
You’ve heard it all before: Man takes for granted his happy family life, lets his guard down because of temptation, then makes big mistakes that can’t be undone. Aebra set me up with after-work drinks in her office and laughing that was supposed to be rewinding time. It was an innocent time for one of us but I became my own worst enemy and caused my own downfall. I allowed myself to think about “adulterous” scenarios with Aebra. I allowed weakness to flourish. As a result, I was easily tempted and fell prey to her tantalizing taunts.
It happened after a hard day. One too many. She had me by the hand leading me through the door to the copy room. Clothes began flying and things began falling. My conscience became conflicted and began to scream at me. I began thinking about what was happening and how much I could “not” do this. I fought hard to resist and at the last moment, I regained my senses. “Stop!” I shouted.
As if this activity was her devious plan, Aebra rushed out of the copy room while trying to hide her top with previously discarded clothing. And to make things worse, she was now sobbing uncontrollably and yelling that she was being attacked and needed help. “Man, was my face red!”
Here I was, Mr. Dope, shirt off, tie lying in the trashcan, lipstick smeared on my neck, and two wide-open eyes that had “guilty-as-hell” etched right in the pupils. I was a dead duck with no way out. My appeals that nothing seriously happened fell on deaf ears.
Aebra got her way. The partners and Aebra agreed not to press charges. And, the entire incident, my alleged physical attack, would be pushed aside under the legal rug if I would quietly leave the firm with no fuss. In return, I would not be disbarred or publicly embarrassed and I could continue my law career unimpeded. I had to submit.
As you would expect, my home front was devastated and I was banished. I had no place to go except to a seedy motel. Luckily, that only lasted a short time and I located an office in downtown Orlando that contained a suitable back room for a bum like me. That was some time ago and since then I have used my law degree and my experience in the courts to slowly command my own legal services office. With no income-producing clients to start, I had to take gigs as a private investigator, so I could pay the bills for myself and for my family. In a short time by dealing with low-class criminals, I allowed myself to become a low-class jerk and I lost my sympathy toward others.
I tried a few times to explain to Ellie and my family that I was guilty only to a point: “I came to my senses and knew I was doing wrong and did not allow things to progress to the actual act.” But the Bible overrules babble: “If you think or lust about doing an act, you are just as guilty as if you really committed that act.” So, I’m guilty that I did wrong and accept my punishment. But I will never accept losing my family’s love – with it, I lost my self-esteem – once again – this time for all the wrong reasons.
My Mental State:
“My sickness has worsened and I’m plagued with dreams of post-war guilt, general unworthiness, and being a failure to my family. I’m haunted into submission. Too much! I’m now stuck in self-destruction mode and all I think about is mischief and a quick buck. And I can’t control my hate and desire for hurt aimed at the ‘lady of my weakness – Triple AAA.’ Questions are swirling in my head with confusing answers. I need help, but from where?”
“I’m so weak and discouraged that: ‘Sometimes I wish………!’”
For the record, I know what I was taught:
“But I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.” Matt. 5:28.
“With her much fair speech she caused him to yield, with the flattering of her lips she forced him. He goeth after her straight-way, as an ox goeth to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks.” Prov. 7:21-22.
“Let not thine heart decline to her ways, go not astray in her paths. For she hath cast down many wounded: yea, many strong men have been slain by her.” Prov. 7:25-26.
“Lust not after her beauty in thine heart; neither let her take thee with her eyelids.” Prov. 6:25.
“Disaster Is Near”
Aebra Arlington arrives home. It’s late Friday evening after the usual gathering at the pub. She pulls into the driveway. The garage door opens. The luxury model vehicle moves into the garage. The door slowly closes. She is safe.
Behind the shrubs, beside the garage, lurks a masked dark-clad man who has a military-issue bayonet in his right hand. He is breathing hard and fast. He is sweating. His heart is racing. His eyes are fixed with purpose – his hand begins to wave that deadly weapon – a sign that he wants to kill Aebra Arlington. Why? He hates her!
The man becomes stoical. Visions of hand-to-hand combat flash across his mind. Mentally, he is transported back to the Vietnam jungles where that bayonet was sometimes his only defense. He slashes at the bushes while envisioning images of attacking Cong. He trips the security system. Lights and sirens erupt. Off he runs.
Violently, the sweat-soaked man awakens and finds himself at home in his own bed. Another awful nightmare. This has happened before. Each time it gets closer to completion – kill her! The man realizes that he must control his desire for bloodshed aimed at this person that caused his downfall. Her deceit and treachery have left him teetering as if he was standing on the edge of a bottomless pit. To fall from that ledge is forever.
The man mumbles, barely coherent, as he strives to awakens from his trance: “I don’t want to hurt anybody – I want to feel good again – It was mostly my fault – I was the aggressor – I have to admit my guilt – if my ego will let me – I have to quit lying to myself – I might do something bad if I don’t. I’m The Deacon, so I have to get hold of myself. I’m not this person that I see in the mirror. I can change. I will change. I need love in my life, not hate and vengeance. Ellie, I need you – don’t stay away any longer – forgive me.”
Was this just another sickness-induced episode? That’s what the man had himself believing until: “Under his pillow, he discovered a face mask. Under his bed, a bayonet – Oh no!” The man will seek help from a head-shrink – or so he tells himself – or so he will keep crying himself to sleep.
Chapter Three
“It’s Hard Times at the Bottom”
Eddy Riffle, an eternal spirit housed in a human body, is subject to all the temptations and sin that Satan is able to create.
At the same time, mankind is called to “submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.” “Mosiah 3”
At some point in life, one might be tempted to call out as Jesus did on the cross in the book of Matthew: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”
In this chapter, Eddy is about there!
Oh, what peace of mind we often forfeit. Oh, what needless pain we often bear!
Orange County, Florida, City Building, Courthouse
The door opens: “All stand! The Honorable Judge Grace R. Rule, presiding!”
“Eddy, Eddy, wake up, you need to stand for the judge.”
“I’ll do my best, but it won’t be easy. I’m still groggy. Will this take long? Sorry, but it must have been something
I ate or drank – or one of my dreams.”
Judge Rule: “Mr. Eddy E. Riffle, according to your arrest report, you seem to have lost your way last night. It says here that you were found wandering along Magnolia Street at three o’ clock in the morning. And you could not remember where you had been, where you were, or where you were going. You also tested positive for being under the influence. On your behalf, you cooperated with the officer and you were polite. You further stated that you were suffering from a bad case of something or other and it made you stagger and slur words. In consideration of your stated innocence and whining, I will overlook the obvious. Instead, I will consider that you are a licensed attorney that has previously defended your clients in my court and in doing so, reflected professionalism in those proceedings. Before I pass judgment, let me hear your arguments and what you have to say about this arrest and about your general demeanor at such an early hour. By this stage in your life, I’d think you would know better!”
“Sorry, Judge Rule, I am unable to remember much. I wasn’t very happy with myself last evening. As you already know, I recently was successful in defending the Malinski Brothers of city corruption, lewd business endeavors, and bribery charges. I can’t go into any details, by law, but I will say that the life I’m living is not the life I want, and I’m distressed. The Malinskis threw a big victory party with all the trimmings. Also, there were friendly females there and that’s the last I remember. That’s about it, your Honor, except to say that it was all a mistake – the whole thing including the case. That’s the truth of it.”
The Deacon and the Shield Page 3