The New World Covenant

by Norm & Kim Bourque

  "TPA to Flight 486, we have you at 5000 ft, continue your descent for final approach, please acknowledge, TPA over."

  "Roger that TPA."

  "Radar puts us within sight of the landing strip, when did you want to set down the wheels," Judy asked Wade.

  Wade responded, "Now seems as good a time as any."

  "I have a visual on the runway, TPA tower and I can see your lights. I am lowering landing gear for final approach, 486 over," Wade said to the TPA Control tower.

  "Roger that Flight 486, good luck and see you on the ground, TPA over."

  Wade commented, "If we do it now and something happens we should still have time to correct it. Hold tight Judy and if you believe in God, now would be a good time to start praying."

  He flipped the switch to lower the landing gear and held his breath. A low rumble echoed through the plane. It was not a familiar sound and as the wheels locked into position, the slight jolt caused the portion of the wing along the sheared edge of the hole to collapse and break free from the plane. The stability of the plane further compromised by the earlier damage caused the plane to dive immediately into a slow spiral spin; just what Wade had feared could happen.

  "Mayday, mayday, mayday, TPA Tower, Flight 486 is now in a spiral spin. We are attempting to correct but may have to make that emergency landing sooner if we cannot regain control."

  He yelled out, "Judy, I'm having trouble controlling the plane; I'm not having any luck bringing it out of this spiral and levelling out the plane. We're just lucky the whole wing didn't come off, or we wouldn't have had even this small chance."

  The plane shuddered, the very fabric of its well-designed shell threatening to tear away from the bones of the inner structure. Overhead bins rattled and those not strong enough to hold against the pressure spewed their contents over the passengers adding to the chaos as passengers fought to remain strapped in their seats. Their desperate screams filled the air as oxygen masks automatically ejected from overhead compartments, leaving them scrambling to secure them in place.

  Wade was straining with the side-stick controller, trying to keep the nose up but to no avail. It would take something more that the efforts of the flyby wire, and all of the electronics, hydraulics, and technology built into this bird to pull it out of its spiral.

  Captain Johnson finally hollered, "I can't break the spin, we're falling too fast. We're going to crash. Brace for impact Judy."

  Suddenly, without warning, there was a brief flash of light, a greenish hue quickly turning to a yellow glow within the cabin and then there was calm. The controller in Wade's hand seemed to move in his hands and he stared down at it, mesmerized. When it seemed that nothing would prevent the inevitable carnage, the plane seemed to take on a life of its own, levelled off, stopped spinning and then very gently set itself down into a cornfield within a few miles of the airfield, with only the slightest bump when the wheels touched the surface and the yellow glow faded.

  Wade reached down, his hands trembling, and shut down engine one. He ordered the immediate evacuation of the passengers and crew and looked over at Judy.

  They both shook their heads. They had been expecting the worst, truly believing that this may have been their last flight on this world, but hoping it wasn't. There was no explanation for what just happened.

  With his intense eyes fixed on Judy, he asked her, "Do you believe in God?"

  Judy answered, her voice subdued, "I did have my doubts until now."

  The Captain replied, "I believe this may qualify as a miracle."

  Judy said, "Agreed. At least it wasn't the end of our trail."

  Wade chuckled. "We have been given the start of a new one."

  Judy, very gratefully and nervously declared to Wade, "I know, it was the sign that I needed."

  When emergency vehicles came on site, they were amazed to see the aircraft not broken up but fully intact, without a scratch except for the missing portion of the wing. The wheels were sitting on top of the ground like it had been placed ever so gently down and all of the passengers were sitting in the cornfield waiting. For many of them, they were already wondering how they were going to get on a connecting flight to continue on their own destinations, oblivious to what just took place. The emergency crews turned off their sirens and came to a stop by the plane.

  Later when being interviewed by the press, Captain Johnson had no explanation of how he had landed the plane safely. All he would say was, "It was like the hands of God reached down and set the plane ever so gently on the ground. It just wasn't our time."

  Witnesses interviewed on the ground stated that the plane was definitely spiralling out of control and appeared to be coming in fast, nose first when suddenly it just levelled out and landed perfectly.

  The announcers of the local TV station smiled at each other. "I guess miracles do happen," Frank said to Julie.

  Julie replied, "It's amazing for sure. Do you remember a few years ago, when this same sort of thing happened?"

  Frank shook his head and Julie continued. "Both the engines failed on that airliner and it crashed into a field but unfortunately they weren't all as lucky as these people. There was only one survivor, a tiny baby covered by her mother's body. They said that was a miracle as well."

  Frank quietly replied, "That was a miracle all right but I don't get why God didn't save the rest of the people on that plane, not just one baby?"

  "That's a good question Frank and one I can't answer." Julie pointed out.

  Frank shook his head again and said, "I guess when everyone can walk away from something like this, it has to be considered a bigger miracle."

  Julie smiled and said, "You have to admit it is a strange story, even the Captain doesn't have an explanation. I wonder if there is a connection to the other miracle news stories we've been hearing about these last few days."

  "We've definitely had no shortage of strange things to report on, that's for sure Julie."

  "There is always something to be thankful for," Julie added as they continued with the evening news.

  Chapter 18

  A young couple sat on the top step of a rundown apartment block. They were in their early twenties; the girl had the traditional Latin darkness, her wavy brunette hair framing a small heart shaped face, her dark eyes flashing with anger, and her red lips glistening in the half-light with a dark red gloss. The young man, equally angry, his pale white face only inches from hers, his blond hair slicked back, just long enough to curl over the collar of his leather jacket. The emblem of a bleeding letter ‘Z’ covered the back of the jacket signalling his inclusion into one of the local gangs, but he not only belonged to it, he was their leader. His hands clenched into fists by his side and his body vibrated with emotion.

  “How many times do I have to tell you Sylvia, I have to go? You know I’m the leader, the rest do what I tell them. We Razors got to stick together and nobody, and I mean nobody is going to muscle in on our territory. You know Bobby Berruzi from the Scorpions down on 14th think they can come up here and take over our piece of the action. We got to do what we got to do or they’ll get ideas and then others will and then what? We ain’t got no piece left. You want that?” He jabbed his finger at her.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way baby. I don’t know why we can’t just go away from here. Let them have it,” she pleaded.

  “And how do you think we’re going to do that baby? We ain’t got enough money yet, and we got no jobs and no future without money. You know we need to get our piece of the action bigger so we can get the money to go away,” he sneered back at her.

  “Really and when will that be Vince? How many more people have to get hurt before you get enough?” she responded.

  “Soon baby, soon. Just let me take care of this. We’ll have enough soon. I promise you, we’ll get out of here someday and we’ll be 'somebodies' then. All we need is more money,” he promised her, taking her small hands in his.

  "We can't let the others know we are leaving som
eday or you know what they'll do. You have to keep this to yourself; don't be telling all those other women. Trust me baby. Have I ever steered you wrong before?” He tried smiling at her.

  She pushed him away. “Promises, that’s all I ever hear from you. How much money do you have right now? How much are you going to have tomorrow, or the next day? When will you have enough? You’re going to keep going with your buddies until you get killed and then what? You'll leave me here with nothing!” she spat back at him, “They aren’t your future Vince, I am, and we need to get out of here now! Please don’t go with them today.”

  The smile slid away from his face and a red hue flushed his cheeks. He jumped to his feet and slapped her across her face.

  “Are you trying to tell me what I can and can’t do Sylvia? Nobody does that. I told you we will leave here but it will be when I’m ready. You got that baby?” He grabbed her face in his hand.

  Sylvia pulled away and put her hand to her cheek. “I got it Vince.”

  “I’m sorry I hit you baby but sometimes you make me so mad. Don’t be trying to control me, just do as I tell you. Okay?” he mumbled, as he ran his hand over the slick hair.

  She nodded.

  “Now I got to go, the boys are waiting for me. I’ll see you later.” He pulled a switchblade from his pocket opening and closing it as he stalked down the street, the butt of his gun protruding from the waistband of his jeans.

  A few blocks away a tight group of young men gathered. They were dressed in the uniform of the gang, jeans and the black jacket with a bleeding letter ‘Z’. They came to attention when Vince came into view.

  “You’re late man,” yelled one tall black youth with a scar running from the corner of his left eyebrow to the corner of his mouth, one he had received in a previous skirmish with the Scorpions. Though it had healed he was anxious for a rematch, and this time it wouldn’t be him with the scars.

  “I had to straighten out Sylvia. She’s getting too demanding these days,” he responded.

  “You should ditch that bitch Vince-man. There are too many chicks out there to put up with a mouthy one. You can get the same sweet without the sour.” He winked at Vince.

  “Yeah right, like you’re getting any,” one of the other guys teased him.

  “Enough, let’s go straighten these bastards out; I’m just in the mood to kick some ass,” said Vince.

  They fell in behind him without question, a group of fifteen angry confident young men.

  ********

  Sylvia sat on the step for a few minutes longer then with a sigh, she stood up and went in search of her friends. They would understand some of them were with gang members as well.

  The small group of girls, mostly Latina and African American, gathered around a beat up kitchen table and shared a bottle of cheap red wine.

  “We shouldn’t put up with this crap from these guys,” Shondell pointed out as she sipped her wine from a water glass.

  “I agree but every time I try to talk to Zach he gets mad and I end up with a black eye. It don’t seem to work,” pointed out Desi.

  “Yeah, sometimes I feel like a punching bag for Manny,” agreed Maria.

  Sylvia listened to her friends, wondering why they all put up with the abuse. She eventually came to the realization that this was normal behaviour for them because they didn’t know anything different. It seemed that the trade-off for a life of love was a slap every now and then.

  In her heart, she knew that if she couldn’t convince Vince to leave, she would have to get the courage to strike out on her own. She didn’t want to settle for the same kind of life as these girls were prepared to live with. Someday she would figure out a way.

  “I think we should go to this meeting and try and talk some sense into these guys,” Sylvia said to the others, “There’s got to be a way for them to work this out. We women are smarter than they are. Let’s use our minds to stop this nonsense finally. Then maybe we can clean this neighbourhood up and feel safe for once in our lives. I for one am tired of living in fear, aren’t you?”

  The wine giving them their courage, they cheered and stormed out the door, determined to make a unified difference.

  ********

  Darkness had settled over the neighbourhood and the remaining working streetlights created eerie pools of pale light.

  Two groups of young men came together in the centre of the deserted alley, each posturing from a position of strength and justified aggression, each side believing they were the wronged party. There would be no settling this without violence and they all knew it. Switchblades heard opening and closing in an attempt to intimidate, guns cocked and released; ensuring they worked and were loaded.

  Bobby came forward and his ten followers stretch out in a line on both sides of him. Some carried bats, others slapped chains against their hands but all had their guns tucked into their waistbands. This would always be their first weapon of choice.

  “Give it up Vince. You got no chance against us,” he challenged the leader of the Razors.

  “You got no business being here Bobby, everything from 14th Avenue to 25th Avenue belongs to the Razors, anything below 14th Avenue is yours so why don’t you crawl back where you belong or us Razors are going to have to show you why they call us that,” Vince yelled back.

  Bobby laughed cruelly, “All I see in front of me are a bunch of little boys playing dress up...all in your pretty little matching jackets. Them clothes don’t make you tough enough man, just ask your buddy JoJo.”

  “Hey JoJo...how’s the face? Looks like a worm crawling up it, must be really sexy for all those imaginary women eh?” he taunted the tall black youth.

  Vince threw his arm out to stop JoJo from attacking the other man. “Not yet,” he whispered out the corner of his mouth.

  “Maybe you should put a leash on the gorilla Vince?” Bobby continued to taunt the Razors, hoping it would distract them into making a mistake.

  “Don’t worry about my guys Bobby, I just hope you remembered to bring your own undertaker cause you’re going to need him when we get done with you and your girlfriends there,” Vince taunted back, “At least we’re proud of who we are, look at you guys, where’s your colors? I don’t see nothing but a bunch of badly dressed little girls. What you going to do, hit us with your jewellery?”

  Bobby’s face flushed with anger and his hands clenched into tight fists.

  “Like I said before, you got no business here. What you doing coming up here messing where you don’t belong?” Vince pointed out.

  “I don’t recall anyone drawing no turf lines. I got business moving into this area and I got to follow my business. If you got a problem with that, deal with it!” Bobby answered, “Or we’ll deal with it for you. You want turf lines; we’ll give ‘em to you. Come on over here ‘pussy’ and let’s get it on.” He raised his fists and made obscene kissing sounds.

  Vince called over to Bobby, “If that’s the best you can do we’ll just settle this the old way. We win, you slither back where you belong and we don’t see you here again. You win we let you have 14th Avenue and we'll leave you alone.”

  “Bring it on,” yelled Bobby.

  The two sides lined up and stretched out, slowly moving towards each other.

  They came together, carefully circling each other, guns drawn. JoJo pulled back the hammer, took aim at one of the Scorpions, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He tried again, still nothing.

  "What the hell?" he said, "My gun don't work."

  Others on both sides were also experiencing the same problem. Not a single gun would discharge. In a show of mutual disgust, they stuffed their guns back in their waistbands and soon a knife slashed out and a bat swung, each side testing the others defences. It didn’t take long before blood flowed freely and bones broke. Bodies from both sides started to fall with injuries too severe to continue the fight. When it seemed the fighting would continue until there was only one capable of fighting left, a voice rang out.

&nb
sp; A young man pushed himself away from a wall where he had been leaning, watching the scene before him, moving forward out of the shadows into the light, his arm motioning to the idiotic, egotistical carnage before him.

  "I have found that in a fight no one thinks they'll ever get hurt. That's why it is so mindless," said the young man.

  “Move along stranger unless you want a piece of this?" Vince snarled as Bobby moved to his side forming a united front against the stranger.

  "To win or lose in any conflict must you not end it first?" The stranger continued to move forward, ignoring the threats.

  "That's what I'm doing here man, ending it." Vince blasted back.

  The stranger smiled and said, "My thoughts exactly. By the way, who won?"

  Not wanting to appear less tough than Vince did, Bobby added his own threat, “I’d suggest you move on mister, this ain’t your business.”

  The stranger answered, "Well tonight I am making it my business."

  Vince snarled, "Now you're pissing me off dude. I guess we'll just have to teach you to mind your own business.” Vince was angry and the adrenalin pumped through his body. He moved forward, his knife ready to inflict the maximum damage possible with each thrust he intended to make on the stranger.