The look on the clown’s face told the tale; she had been tricked. “Take me in boys – I’m yours – I’m not allowed to interfere with your human bodies – I was just teasing – Can’t you take a joke? There will be another time when my hands are not tied – it’s coming soon. As for you, Mr. Deacon, I’m not finished with you, yet! When the time is right, I’ll be back. And then you will love what I have to offer. You will not be able to resist me. Sam Holler will not be there. If he is, I might entice him too!”
An astonished Eddy: “What do you want with me, in particular; I’m a nobody? Why am I being hounded by the devil’s fallen angel troops? Is that who you are?”
“All souls are my mission. As for troops, there’s a lot more of my type ready to go and some are here on earth already; gathering strength!”
Samuel, I mean Sam had heard enough of this nonsense. The clown was drug away by the neck down twelve flights of stairs. On the path across the parking lot and to the patty wagon, a rifle shot rang out! A single slug slammed into the shirt of the clown causing everyone to jump aside for cover. Sam instinctively looked up in the direction from whence the sound originated and located a single person jumping from one building to another, then gone. By the trajectory of the shot, it was later determined that it came from a 12th floor window. Lt. Sam Holler’s investigative nature put two and two together. The sum: “Riffle did the shot. He was the last one to leave that 12th floor. And, he knows how to shoot and he owns the ordinance.”
The assassination bullet definitely hit the target perfectly on the third button on the clown’s outfit. It revealed a violent rip. But the clown did not go down and even laughed at the feeble attempt. To display her lack of fear, she opened her frilly shirt to expose a bullet wound that apparently deflected and caused no injury.
“That hiding coward of yours will fail, she shrieked. I was hit, but it glanced off my ninth rib; it’s the strongest rib of them all. Eddy Riffle will pay the price for this attack – and soon!”
Authorities did try to remove the clown’s costume, but it would not budge. The confiscated alligator head shriveled up into a paper ball and caught fire. Hours before her preliminary judicial hearing, The Alligator Clown mysteriously disappeared from her cell. The cell camera revealed nothing but haze and was inconclusive. Written on the wall for all to see, were these words: “The Serpent!”
Facts: Charlatan Jones (CJ) is the legit CEO of the Company. He always works until midnight. He never met The Clown nor contacted a buyer. The technology was in the development stage and awaiting approval from NASA. The mystery man with the briefcase full of counterfeit cash was a CIA operative. The plan to capture this traitorous evil doer was legally arranged by Judge Rule. “The Association” successfully rebuffed the vengeful Abaddon, A.K.A. The Alligator Clown.
“The True Soul Begins to Emerge”
Thanksgiving Day was close at hand and I was brooding. Florida’s balmy breezes usually soothe my emotions and gives me feelings of optimism and hope. So, I decided to take an evening stroll down the beach and enjoy the sunset. I found a nice spot and parked myself. It was a perfect view. “Beautiful.”
The solidarity was too good to last. Soon I had company. Most folks usually kept their distance for this type of entertainment, but tonight it was eerie. I noticed that up and down the beach there were many vacant sections, but next to me it was bunched with an assortment of sightseers. The common bond: “They all seemed to be hand in hand with a loved-one.”
I thought it odd that they were so close when there was plenty of room, but I did enjoy their happiness and their joy of watching the sun set, together.
Then, a lady sat down beside me. “A bit crowded tonight.”
“Why yes, it is. I was just about ready to call it a day.”
“Me too, but it’s so pretty; the sun is sitting right on the water’s edge. Seems like you could just step off the ocean and into the sun; so lifelike. Don’t you think?”
“Yea, my wife and I used to come here all the time and bring our daughters, but not anymore. Life changes. Nothing stays the same. Some things are good and some are not so good.”
“Sorry to hear that. Hope it’s fixable. Love is too precious to lose. Pride stands in the way, sometimes. We just can’t seem to master that little devil.”
As the sunlight began to slowly disappear, my thoughts drifted to Ellie and how our marriage was just like this picture – fading, fading, until darkness overcomes. I mumbled softly: “Must the sun always set without choice? Must love be lost without choice?”
My new acquaintance noticed my tear-filled eyes. “You know that the moon rules the night while the sun rules the day and without choice; it’s God’s plan of creation. The moon is a lover’s light and it takes two strolling under its glow to realize that the man in the moon is like cupid; the mythical boy God of Love. Once penetrated by cupid’s arrow of true love, two hearts shall become as one. Separation of this bonding back into their parts is not possible, but may seem to be so. Each half will struggle and fight within their selves until the inevitable surfaces. The cupid’s arrow is strong. It can only bend, but will not break. She is waiting and hurting as much as you. Understand?”
“I sure do! Her name is Ellie!”
I jumped to my feet as I felt a sharp sting to my chest. The pain left as fast as it came. So, I composed myself as if nothing happened. I then bid farewell to this mysterious lady. We never bothered to exchange names, but I did wonder why we met so suddenly. I know that cupid is just a myth for lovers or did I just receive an arrow to the heart? I didn’t see any babies flying about. Maybe that lady was cupid’s mother. Anything is possible.
All that filled my mind at the moment: “I’ve got a baseball game to attend. Tomorrow night my grandsons will be looking for me.” I rarely went to their games due to that pride thing, but this time I won’t be late!
Chapter Eight
Thanksgiving Eve – Baseball – The Bully
The pitch – the swing – crack – the ball bounds toward third base – fielded by Jamie Riffle Howard – throws to first base – caught by his cousin, Aaron Riffle Howard – runner out – end of game. The kids middle name of Riffle is to honor their grandfather.
“Great play!” The scream came from behind the third base fence. It came from Grandpa Eddy Riffle. The boys heard his shout even on the bottom of a pile of exuberant teammates. They freed themselves and immediately rushed toward the grinning Eddy.
The Thanksgiving Eve baseball tournament had been fun for all until the coach from the opposing team raced onto the field and into the face of the umpire yelling: “That runner was safe by a mile – who’s paying you? Are you blind, you dope?”
This particular coach had a reputation of being loud, rude, boisterous, and just a downright big-time bully. His three sons played on his team and overlooked their embarrassment because they got to play over better team members just because he was “the coach.” Many complaints had been filed with the City of Orlando’s Administrator of Athletics but this coach was somehow still active and just as obnoxious. Umpires for the league were unpaid volunteers and often gave in to his demands rather that argue the point. He was not liked, but tolerated!
The tirade of this coach did not stop and his speech got louder as he made his way toward the winning team’s celebration – it was time for after game treats. Ellie just happened to be the coach of the winning team; Lynn and Niki were her assistants. He yelled at Ellie: “You can’t seriously take this as a win. That sniveling wimp of an umpire said that it was up to you to get the call reversed. So, you better get over there and tell her that she blew the call!” Eddy and the boys, by this time, had made their way into the celebration and was busy hugging and giving high-fives. But their glee was interrupted by this tornado of rudeness heading for some face-time.
Eddy stepped forward to confront the bluster: “Settle down, man – this is my wife you’re yelling at and spitting on! You don’t want this to go any further and get o
ut of hand, do you?”
“What if I do? You going to stop me, old man?”
Eddy was well trained in the dismantling of bigmouth bullies but he chose to simply give the coach “the look” because words would not be needed for this guy – just the look!
Bullies like to inflict pain on the weaker and skip out when the tide turns. If there is the slightest doubt that their victim will retaliate with some of their own hurt and misery, they generally back off especially if they get “the look.” What pleasure is there to see your victim being loaded into the back of an ambulance and on the way to the hospital if you also are loaded into the same van and lying flat as a flitter? Sometimes it is hard to tell who won the boxing match – hurt is hurt!
The look: Steely-slit-fixed eyes that show no fear and a willingness to go the distance. Eddy was very experienced and could easily handle the coach but did not want a scene in front of all those families that were watching the disturbance. And, the grandsons had never seen him as anything but jovial and fun.
The bully responded: “I’ll see you again when you are not hiding behind all these kids and then, Grandpappy, it won’t be pleasant.” He turned and walked away.
Jamie grinned at his grandpa: “Good job, gramps. That’s the first time we ever saw that coach back away without getting what he wanted.” Lynn and Niki hugged Eddy and said they were glad that he was there, as their fright turned to smiles.
Ellie liked it too: “Someday that brute will get what he’s asking for, but hopefully not on the playing field. Violence is never the answer and not a good example for anyone.”
Eddy to the team: “Your coach, Mrs. Riffle and your two great assistants are right, and besides it was my smile that got him moving away or it could have been my crooked nose – that’s a sign I’ve been hit there a few times and one more wouldn’t hurt much.” The whole team laughed and some of them feinted punches to the nose. Then, off to the ice cream store – Eddy’s treat.
“Have a Happy Thanksgiving with your families,” was Eddy’s last words to the team as he left for his office and the usual loneliness. It’s tough to be alone especially during holidays. On the way home, Eddy noticed a local bar and stopped for a burger and a beer. Guess who was barely standing at the bar drinking profusely and blabbering – you guessed it! Their eyes met. The bully yelled: “Well, it’s the hero of the day – come to get your Thanksgiving whipping. How about if I straightened that nose?”
Eddy did not respond but slowly began removing his belt. The bully awkwardly lunged with intent to do bodily harm. Eddy jumped aside and swiftly looped his belt over the head and around the sprawling neck of the attacker. He tightened it just enough to cut off the airflow. The surprised blowhard found himself immobile as he struggled to breathe.
Eddy had no intention of doing harm but just wanted to teach the coach a lesson. But Eddy’s emotional situation never allowed for the simple. His hands began to twitch and he once again lapsed into the past – he was back in the jungles. All around him, the NVA was searching for the few remaining U.S. soldiers that was left over from an ambush. Eddy believed that he was one of the survivors and hidden in the jungle growth. An enemy soldier had approached. So, he silenced him by leaping from his hiding spot in the bush and looping his belt around the soldier’s neck. He then squeezed really, really hard – he thought that his life depended on it! He was close to committing a deadly act when:
Customers, owners, bouncers, all jumped Eddy and pulled him off the coach. “You don’t want to kill him, do you?”
Looking dazed and confused: “No, no, not that – anything but that. I just lost my head for a second. I’m alright now. I’m so sorry. Is he alright?”
The bully soon revived and yelled out his need for another beer. Eddy helped the coach to his feet. “Sorry, man – I lost it for a moment. You O.K.? Say, what’s your name?”
Struggling, the man responded: “My name is Paul – what’s yours?”
“My name is Eddy and my two grandsons play on the team that won today and my wife and daughters are the coaches. I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.”
“You’re not as sorry as I am,” said Paul. “I guess I made a fool of myself today – like right now I am a certified buffoon. Not like it’s the first time. It’s getting to be a habit.”
Eddy and Paul straightened themselves, found a table, and sipped on their beer. They shared stories and found out that they were not that far apart in life’s twist and turns. Before they left the bar, they had become new friends – the kind that you can talk to without being judged and just provide a shoulder to lean on. Funny how that works – a bully can be tamed if just one friend tries.
Due to the difference in their ages, Paul felt a fatherly connection with Eddy and listened to his advice. Eddy welcomed his new friend as just that – a friend. So, they agreed to do a little fishing now and then. “Don’t think that they ever made it.”
Later that evening:
Ellie sits in front of a mirror and brushes her hair. Her thoughts are pleasant. She visualizes the fun of the day with the boys and the game. Her emotions are tested as she includes Eddy, her once great and only love. Remembering a love letter from long ago from her “at-war” soldier man, she opens the bottom drawer of her dresser. It was there that she protects a precious treasure of the heart. She held it to her chest with both hands. “Should I or can I, dare to remember?”
She lays the letter aside and resumes the brushing. “If I read this, I must be ready to accept the consequence. Will it open the hurt or soothe the pain I feel?”
A tear falls from a lash as she unfolds the letter that was still stained by the rainwater from a monsoon.
To my love, Ellie.
It sure is raining here. We have been hunkered down for days under our shelter halves. Not much going on and I am doing good. So, don’t worry. I even had time to write you a little love note. Don’t know where the words came from, but I mean every word. Here goes.
“When I was a young man and did not know you, I searched for you in many places. I did not know you at the time, but it was you that was pushing me to keep looking. When our eyes first met, the wonder of you touched me; the real me. I felt a mutual connection and a feeling that we had found ourselves, again; like we had been together in another existence. One lifetime is not long enough for the love we have to share, but that’s why there is an eternity; there’s a plan for us. If you are not there every day of forever then I would be heartbroken forever. As long as I keep you in the safety of my heart, you will always be with me. You are the ointment for my soul.”
Well, that’s about all I can write for today. The wind is picking up and hard to write out here in the boondocks. Can’t wait to see you in Hawaii. Only a short time away.
I love you, my darling!
Eddy
Ellie folded the letter and placed it back in its place of safety. She has a lot to think about.
“At Home on Thanksgiving Day”
Today is Thanksgiving and another holiday without my family and a friend or two sitting around a big table stacked with food. And just the aroma of fresh-from-the-oven turkey and all the fixings always tempted to the limit and drove my gang to dig in and overeat at free will. “It’s my own fault, so just wipe away all these tears and get started heating this turkey thing to a boil. A new recipe – boiled in hot water deli pressed turkey – ha, ha – made myself laugh. How do you get this bag off?”
I looked down at this purchased turkey-lump: “You don’t look like much – all five pounds of ya! Must have been a sick one. I didn’t know that they grew them this small. Should have read the fine print on whatever came with this bird – I guess it’s a bird – could be an opossum.”
After the dinner struggle, I turned on the television to watch the parade – a lot of happy faces and excitement. Then came a few football games. I guess watching guys tear off another’s helmet and stomping on it relieves tension. The fans in the stands liked it – they slapped hands
and high-fived one another. Heck, I used to play football myself. And I liked the pileups and the biting and pinching that goes on in that entanglement of arms and legs. I just had to be careful not to bite my own leg. “Ha, ha – made myself laugh again.”
Next on the holiday agenda: Time for a short snooze and then what everyone waits for: Dessert – hot coffee, pecan pie, pumpkin pie, and whipped cream. With all that exercise I witnessed today on television, I worked up an appetite. “Hey, how about a bourbon to settle the stomach? That’ll hit the spot!”
Sipping my bourbon, I settled into my lousy rocking chair to wait out the rest of the day. Being alone for the holidays, I frequently talked to myself: “Another Thanksgiving Day gone by and nobody missed me. My new friend from yesterday, Paul, did invite me but I turned him down. I didn’t want my drooping eye-bags to spoil his family’s fun. So, humbug to me, old scrooge!”
But, to my wondering ears, the phone started to make noises like I was being texted or it could be that the house was on fire – I never could figure out this new technology. Yes, it really was a text and all I had to do was read it out loud to myself before the screen went dark. “I’ve got to find out what all those apps mean.”
The text message: “Dad, we missed you today. Just wanted to let you know that we love you no matter what. Happy Thanksgiving. Lynn, Niki, Jamie, Aaron, and Mom, too!”
“Wow, this is some surprise. This turned out to be a better-than-expected Thanksgiving Day. But something is still missing – let me think.” Then, it dawned on me what I had forgotten: How about giving a little thanks – it wouldn’t hurt, you know!
“Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness. For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favor is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” Prov. 30.
The Deacon and the Shield Page 8