by C.E. Wilson
Terry felt adventurous so she began to walk around. She poked her head into each room and then came back to the kitchen. Peter had all of the pantry doors opened. On the island counter he had a case of bottled water. There were some dried goods sitting there too. She eyed and picked up a box of “Mac N’ Cheese”. “Hey, I remember eating this as a kid.” She found a barstool to sit on. “Mom used to buy this by the case. We’d eat it for both lunch and supper on the weekends.”
“Was she a single mom?”
“Yeah. Dad ran off on us.” Terry smiled. “She worked two jobs to help us get through. Taught me to never depend on a man to help out.”
Peter nodded at her in understanding.
“Told me I had to be strong.” Her smile faded. “She’s probably dead.” She sniffed once and then brought her sleeve to her nose.
“I doubt that. It looks like they didn’t have it quite as hard out here.”
Terry nodded, her sadness faded and she became blank-faced again.
Peter smiled at her weakly. “I’m sorry to say,” he sighed, “but I don’t think we’ll have heat tonight.”
Terry’s tone was flat again when she spoke. “There are some bedrooms. They have quilts and blankets.”
She got up to head to a bedroom and then stopped. “How long do you think someone could survive? If they are trapped under that rubble?”
“It depends on many things. Air quality, if they are hurt, etc.”
“Got a general guess?” She didn’t want to play the “if this-or-that” game.
“At most, one, maybe two weeks. Here’s the thing, though. Since the earthquake hit the entire earth…who’s going to rescue the rescuers?”
Terry nodded that she’d heard and walked off towards a bedroom.
* * *
The day had turned to night in the flash of a bulb. It was like the cellphone LED ‘flashlight’ going off right before a picture. Bam! The earth below her shook and she fell to her knees. She couldn’t get up, she couldn’t scramble forward. Terry looked back at her feet and saw that her laces were tied together. It didn’t make any sense. She reached back to untie them so she could get her footing again.
Right as she was reaching back a brick wall fell onto her legs. “Ow!” She screamed into the darkened day. “Help me!” She pulled at the ground with her hands and she couldn’t get any purchase. She felt blood oozing along her left leg. She looked down and saw a pool of it begin to form. The pool slowly grew until it reached her elbow. She tried to hold her hands up. Terry attempted to twist her torso so that the blood would not come near her face. But she was suddenly pinned face down into the ground.
The blood crept up to her nose. She could feel it, wet against her cheek. The pool grew bigger and deeper until it covered her face. She had to arch her back and come up for breaths of air. She screamed. “Help me!” She knew it’d take a person only five minutes to free her. Yet here she was drowning.
She saw a shadow form against the crimson pool. She looked up and saw a strange man standing there. He looked down at her with soulless eyes and a too-white toothy grin. With a soft and masculine voice he said. “You’re mine, Terry.”
* * *
Terry awoke sweating and heaving. Who was that man? Was he a man? She cried out and screamed. A moment later Peter came running in and sat on the bed next to her. He scooped her up into his arms as she cried. She hadn’t had a nightmare like that in years.
“It’s okay, Terry. I’m here for you.”
Chapter 7
Terry went through her bag, laid out the supplies on the kitchen table. “What do you think I should add?” She’d thankfully found sleep again after that terrible nightmare and woke up refreshed, ready to start the day.
Peter looked at her with a surprised look on his face. “Well, you have some water. I’d look for some kind of re-usable water container. These flimsy bottles won’t last. I’d also find a knife of some kind and a way to sharpen it.” He picked through what David had given her.
Terry cleaned out her pockets onto the table as well: cell phone, earbuds, a wallet, gum, and keys. “Well, Terry.” He paused. “You said that you and your mom would leave town in her car right?”
“Yes.”
“You need some first aid stuff. I’d grab some Tylenol and bandages and things. “
“Mom should have all of that at her house.”
“What if her house toppled over in the quake?”
He was right of course. She walked to the bathroom and filled her arms with supplies from the medicine cabinet. “You want some?”
“No, I’ll be okay. I’ll visit another house later if mine is rubble.” Peter sighed. “My wife and I built that house. Well, we didn’t build it, but we had it built for us.”
Terry nodded and finished loading her backpack. She slung it over her shoulder and headed for the back door. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Around nine, Peter stopped at an intersection and looked at the fallen street sign. “Here’s my corner.” Terry nodded. She was sad to see him go, but really wanted to be on the way herself.
“Hey, how’d you know my name? I never told you.”
“David used your name.”
“I never told him either.” She had a perplexed look on her face.
“He was unusual.” Peter replied.
Terry nodded.
Peter engulfed her in a big bear hug and then dropped her to her feet. She stood there flabbergasted. No man had ever cared for her like he did without wanting something in return. Terry looked at the ground. She felt her cheeks redden.
“I’ll miss you.” She said quietly.
Peter started walking away. He turned to wave. “I’ll be praying for you.”
Whatever that means. She watched him walk off for a minute or so and then continued on-course for her mom’s. She recognized the area even though most of it was rubble. She had one mile to walk. “Oh, it would be so nice if her house was still standing.”
She noticed that today, many more people were milling around. She kept to the sidewalk on the north side of the street with a wary eye on everyone. She climbed over a fallen telephone pole and then a large oak. She looked around for a stick to hold onto and couldn’t find one. She needed to find a knife.
A few blocks down, she saw Leonard’s Gas Station. She frequented the place whenever she came this way. That was the last bus stop on this street. Terry observed quite a few people looting the place. They were coming out with bags full of goods, chairs, and whatever they could carry. Old man Leonard stood there, waving his straw broom at them.
“You cowards!” He swiped at one of the thieves but missed. Poor old man must be 80. Terry continued on. It was none of her concern. Then she heard a new noise and saw some young man knock the old man down.
Terry stared back at the ground and took two steps farther. A new anger entered her breast, one she’d never felt before. She stormed over to the station and knelt down next to Leonard. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes. I am okay. My tailbone hurts though. I can’t believe that they’d steal from me! I’ve done so much for these people!” He waved a fist at one of them. “Yes, I know that’s you Frank. I’ll find your mother and I’ll tell her what you’ve done!”
The boy laughed at him. Leonard tried to stand. “Could you give me a hand?”
Terry stood up and offered him her hand. She helped him stand up. “How about I get you home.”
“This is my home now.” He pointed at his station. “My house fell over and killed my wife. I have nothing left.” He sounded dismayed.
Terry grabbed up the broom, yelled at one of the boys and chased him away. She then chased another away. By the time she had them all gone, his station was picked clean anyway.
* * *
Terry walked him up to an old house, next to his, that still stood. “I’ll be fine Terry. Thanks for helping me. Harold will help me out. He’s always been a good neighbor.”
She gave the old man a quick h
ug and walked down the steps. At the end of the sidewalk she waved at Leonard and Harold and then continued on her journey. “Four more blocks.” She said out loud. She felt almost happy. She’d never truly felt happy since her dad left.
Terry continued forward with a spring in her step and she hopped over some branches and tree limbs. She stopped for a moment, undid her hair and flipped it around. The boys always love that. She put it back into a ponytail and continued her trek.
She came to her mom’s block and she began to jog towards the house. Mom’s car is still out front! She could see it plainly. A moment later she stood in front of her mom’s house. When it toppled, it careened northward towards the alley.
“Mom?” Terry said aloud. She walked up to the front steps. The concrete still remained but the door was leaning way back. There was no way of getting into her house. “Mom!”
Terry picked her way to the east side of the house. “Mom?” She tried to peer under the broken boards and roofline but couldn’t see anyone. At one point she saw her old teddy bear covered in dust, but it sat in the middle of the rubble and she didn’t want to chance getting hurt.
She walked further around to the north and into the alleyway. The house opposite the alley from her mom’s had fallen northerly as well. Terry walked into the neighbor’s lawn, around the peak of the house and then back around on the west side.
“Oh my, where is Mom?” Where could she be? Maybe she’s at Marcie’s playing bridge? Was it bridge night? What night of the week is that? What day is today? Terry continued forward.
She stopped and her breath caught.
* * *
She saw her mom’s torso sticking out of the rubble. Her head, arms and waist were all exposed. Her legs looked like they could have been pinned. “Mom!” Terry ran to her and knelt down by her. She put her hand on her mom’s face. “Mom, speak to me. Mom!” Her face felt cold. It’s because it’s chilly outside. She pulled off her jacket and placed it over her mom and then shook her. “Wake up! Wake up!”
Her mom wouldn’t wake up. She felt her mom’s back, it was cold, too, and she had become stiff. “No, no, no! You can’t be dead!” She grew angry and began pulling debris off of her mom. It took only a few moments but she had her body free. It was so simple to do, to help out, to free her.
She remembered back to the woman after the earthquake. She could have helped her! What happened to that woman? Oh what a wretch I am?! She held her mom and cried. “What am I going to do? Mom, you were my rock. I need you Mom. You can’t die on me. No, Mom, no!”
Terry looked up at the sky and screamed. “I hate you!” Tears came fresh to her eyes. “I hate you, it’s all your fault! You took her from me!” She bent over her mom and let all those years of bitterness and hatred roll over her soul. Now she’d lost her mom. Her only reason to exist!
She cried and cried and screamed obscenities. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and cried some more until she was heaving. She stood up, left her mom and found a bare spot in the autumn grass. Terry knelt down and put her face on the ground and cried. She didn’t remember the exact words, but she cried out.
“Please forgive me!” She bore her heart to God. She’d tried almost everything else, drugs – sex, and none of it had worked. None of it could fill that void. So what did she have to lose?
Terry wept.
* * *
Terry was exhausted. “I can’t go anymore. Help me.” She cried out.
A moment later she felt a hand on her shoulder. It gave her a strong squeeze. And then she heard a voice, a man’s voice, pleasing to the ear, calm and gentle. He began to pray. She buried her face in the grass and gave her soul over to God. That same calm she heard in the man’s voice, it gripped her soul. A peace came over her, one she didn’t understand. The world was terribly broken, but it would all be okay.
The man finished praying and he removed his hand from her shoulder. She looked up and saw him extend his hand. She took his, and he helped her up. He had the most amazing eyes and a gentle smile.
“Hello, my name is Maxwel.” He held her hand for a time and then gently released it.
“Terry.” She really liked this guy. He looked at her with a love she couldn’t explain. A love that was genuine. A love that was given freely – no reward, no payment.
“I’ll help you bury your mother, Terry.”
“Thank you.” She stifled back a sniffle. Her eyes were bloodshot and nose hurt. She was cold, so she gathered her jacket from her mom. “I love you Mom.” She looked at him and smiled weakly. “What’s the plan?”
“We are going to look for a shovel.” He began to walk towards another house. She followed him. He smiled at her and said, “Let me tell you about The Way.”
# # #
Plan of Salvation
Dear Friend,
That hole in your heart, you know the one I'm talking about, that emptiness you try to fill? Do you try to fill it with T.V., the internet, or games? You'll never fill it with the things of this world. You see, God put that hole there, to help you seek and know Him. Often we fill it with inappropriate desires, anger, or drugs.
If you've come to recognize your need of a Savior. If you know that hole will never be filled, all you have to do is seek God. He wants you to know Him. He wants to take care of you. All you have to do is turn your heart, your mind, and your soul to Christ. Bow your head, close your eyes, and ask Him into your heart. Ask forgiveness for your sins and all the things you've done wrong in your life. Your words do not have to be perfect, all they have to be is heartfelt.
Choose to do your best to never sin again and repent when you do. Get yourself a copy of the Bible, find a local church that fits your style, and tell an Elder that you've just accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. They will want you to get baptized and will explain to you what that means.
Most of all, trust God to guide and lead you. He will help you along your path in life and be there for you in your time of need. It won't always be easy, life never is. But He won't forsake you.
Every chance you get, in the car, at home, even at work. If privacy permits, speak with Him aloud. The rest of the time, let your heart sing to God, think about all of the good and righteous things in life, and He will guide your paths.
Be Blessed,
C. E. Wilson
Citations:
Chapter 1:
“Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot and cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’” – Matthew 22:13
Chapter 2:
“Be on guard, keep awake. For you do not know when the time will come.” – Mark 13:33
About the Author:
C. E. Wilson is just your normal everyday factory worker who is chasing after God as hard as he can. His hobbies include writing, woodworking, and playing with his beloved daughter.
For more information about the author or the book series or to purchase other books please visit:
https://baqash.me
Other Books by the Author:
Baqash
Baqash
Chapter 1
The old orange shag carpet was worn. Months of brown mud had been rubbed into its surface by trespassers who had broken the laws of old: remove your shoes at the door. She sat off to the corner of the old house in the living room looking at her tablet. During the day they migrated upstairs and spread out, a few of them carefully wandered outside. There were nearly 20 of them, all of their belongings were squeezed into haversacks, backpacks, or even garbage bags. At night, they’d collect their things and shuffle down into the basement where the depth and the cool earth would conceal their presence from infrared goggles.
The house, over a century old, sat on the edge of a woods. The farm land had long been left to weed, a garden lay out back, which was home to a lone volunteer tomato plant. Nothing productive grew; the farmer and his wife were long gone or dead. Much like the infertile land, the power didn�
�t produce either.
A solar panel sat next to her, propped up in the window, charging the tablet. Hazel eyes flicked down the page, her freckled petite nose twitched as she squinted.
“Sarah,” Joseph sat in the corner opposite her in an old rocking chair, pulling on his gray beard. “You seem perplexed.”
“It says here from Matthew 6:33 in the King James Version: ‘Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you’ but what does it mean?” Sarah removed her ball-cap to reveal chopped-at red hair.
“I don’t know.” Joseph’s eyes twinkled blue and wrinkles appeared at the corners of them. Then he smiled, his teeth were still mostly white even though the toothpaste ran out two months ago. He ran a hand through his white hair, then he tapped his nose with his forefinger. His olive skin was still radiant despite his 70 years.
She suspected he knew; she awaited the answer. He’d pulled her leg one too many times, it had taken her a while to figure him out, but she knew that he knew. Two patient souls, one 20 and the other older than dirt, examined each other.
“What do you think it means?” He was being obnoxious again; trying to get her to think for herself.
She thought for a bit, closed the KJV on her tablet and re-read the verse in ESV and NIV. She looked at him. “Seek God first.”
“Yes, but what other topics have we spoken on as of late? Put them all together, my girl.”
She pondered for a moment, then her stomach growled. Joseph chuckled, “I sent Peter out at first light to hunt; he should be back soon. Let’s pray he returns with something other than root vegetables.” They’d finished the last of the deer jerky the night before. Autumn was approaching quickly and the only food left in the cupboard was canned vegetables. And barely enough for them to make it through the winter.
Sarah looked out the window still lost in thought.
Joseph grabbed his knobby cane and stood up. He slowly made his way to the kitchen which sat off of the dining room out of view from the living room. “Derek, prep the fire quickly. We’ll be having a meal shortly. Make it a hot fire made out of dead wood. Janine, grab the skillet from the basement and spices.”