Innocents, Heaven's Wait! Tales from Vowella, Book 2

By Barbara McLaughlin

Discovering who and what you are truly meant to be is no easy task. Just ask Mok Fog Bob. The bright, intuitive fifteen-year-old member of Vowella’s present-day Fog Bob clan embarks on a mission to help the town’s earthborn Angelicous, Mr. RJ PLOM, unlock the key to the Vowellans’ unknown purpose in the mystical world of Heaven’s Wait.

The curious, comical, and often troubling everyday behaviors of Vowella’s five colorful, quirky clans—the Ham Bats, Net Kens, Fig Wigs, Fog Bobs, and Rug Bums—may be keeping them from discovering their destiny. Mok is determined to find out why.

When Mok becomes a frustrated researcher, RJ calls on his own mentor for help in solving the puzzle. From Lady Wisteena, a mysterious angel-type figure who resides in Heaven’s Wait’s capital, New Life City, he learns that there are no easy solutions to such complicated missions.

Will Mok’s investigations turn up enough clues to help RJ shed new light on the Vowellans’ destiny? Or is Mok asking too much of himself, his community, and customs that have endured for generations?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barbara McLaughlin
• Release date: Jun 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9780991277704

Barbara McLaughlin

Barbara McLaughlin was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, where she currently resides. She studied Early Childhood Education and worked in the field of education for several years before taking time out to raise her two sons. During that period, she not only helped her husband build their family-owned coffee roasting company; she self-published her first book, a remedial reading workbook filled with simple stories and quirky animated characters. When she lost her father to a terminal illness, however, her creative spirit faded, and she abandoned the project.Barbara directed her energies toward family and business for almost twenty years. All the while, her creative side continued to call to her. She eventually resurrected the animated characters that had been central to her remedial reading workbook and began to write a collection of life-lesson tales for her family. She didn’t know her creative journey would lead her to fascinating places she never expected to explore or that she would become an accidental novelist during the process.As the tales slowly morphed into a larger story, five main characters rose to the surface, as did the associated memory of her father’s passing. Barbara found it fitting to create a character based on her father to bridge the gap between the world we know and the unlikely characters’ new world, which became Heaven’s Wait.Since then, whenever she has found time away from family and work, Barbara has immersed herself in expanding the world of Heaven's Wait. Aside from work on her in-progress 7-part book series, she has further challenged her creativity with musical composition, product development, and visions of a HW book series for young children. The flowering of her fantasy world has been her constant joy, and she finds her rewards in the knowledge that there are now believers in the magic of Heaven's Wait.

Book preview

INNOCENTS

Heaven's Wait! Tales from Vowella

Book 2

by

Barbara McLaughlin

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 Barbara McLaughlin Publishing

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ISBN: 978-0-9912777-0-4 for epub version

OTHER WORKS BY THIS AUTHOR

RJ'S STORY

Heaven's Wait! Tales from Vowella

Book 1

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Cover illustration and design by Michael Trujillo. http://www.trujilloillustration.com

To my dear father, Robert J. Marsicano: I again thank you for your eternal inspiration. To my family: your continued support and love during my ongoing journey means everything. To Mark McLaughlin, Brad Schreiber, Linda Jay Geldens, and Kim Young: many thanks for the expertise you all bring to this series. I wouldn’t be here without you. To Michael Trujillo: continued thanks for transforming the world that lives inside my head into a place that is far more beautiful than I ever imagined. To the readers: thank you for taking the leap into Heaven’s Wait. Enjoy the journey. Barbara

This book is dedicated to the memory of my sweet brother,

William J. Marsicano

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue: A New Email

Chapter 1: First Study

Chapter 2: Spaghetti Night

Chapter 3: Man to Man

Chapter 4: The Way They Are

Chapter 5: The Crying Cave

Chapter 6: The Secret Pal

Chapter 7: The Bad Day

Chapter 8: The Crying Cave Revisited

Chapter 9: Bums at the Hut

Chapter 10: Having Things

Chapter 11: Cool Mom

Chapter 12: Vanity 101

Chapter 13: Girlfriends

Chapter 14: Just Having Fun

Chapter 15: New Life City

Chapter 16: As Seen By Others

Chapter 17: The Stickball Game

Chapter 18: Why Do You Do That?

Also by Barbara McLaughlin

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Author Bio

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PROLOGUE

A New Email

From: RJ PLOM

To: Mark M, Shaun M

Cc: Ma and Pa in Heaven

Subject: A few tales from Vowella!

Dearest Grandsons,

Hello again from Heaven's Wait. I do hope you received my first email, as well as its attachment that documents my initial experiences here in the cozy valley of Vowella, my present home. I also hope that someday you will find a way to respond to my messages.

I am writing you today from Vowella's impressive library. A curious young Vowellan by the name of Mok, a member of the ambitious Fog Bob Clan, accompanies me. He just finished reading RJ's Story, and he's now asking questions about the years since I happened upon Heaven's Wait more than a generation ago, while I was inflight to Heaven. I’m guessing that you may be curious about those years too, so allow me to catch you up on a few things before you open the new collection of tales that I’ve attached about life in today's Vowella.

As you remember, I assumed the position as Angelicous to the Vowellans. My task of helping the Vowellans discover their purpose here in Heaven’s Wait continues to be a challenge. Your great-uncle Jake and I have tried to make the most of the fortune we discovered...thanks to Ma, Pa, and a stronger force above...to meet that challenge and to do good for all of Heaven's Wait's fascinating inhabitants. Our windfall has allowed me to help the Vowellans make vast improvements to their living conditions. The valley's clans — the Ham Bats, Net Kens, Fig Wigs, Fog Bobs, and Rug Bums — have more than everything they need to live comfortably, maybe too comfortably.

Heaven's Wait's bustling capitol, New Life City, is my ongoing source of support in this world. Since I have yet to meet other PLOMs — Posthumous Legends or Mentors — who, like me, landed outside of NLC, I enjoy my connections with the city PLOMs. I also enjoy my access to recycled earthly items at the Materiality Zone, my part-time work with the Troubled Young Angels at Uncle Jake's Forestry Institute, and my sessions with my Angelicous mentor, Lady Wisteena, who advises me on bringing the Vowellans closer to their destiny.

Because of the city’s broad earthly offerings, I've tried to expose the Vowellans to as much of the human way of life as possible. In the beginning, I taught them about commerce by initiating the sale of PLOM fruit jam to the city folks. Over the years, I've made the effort, via my small plane that brought me here, to surround the Vowellans with innumerable items from the city’s Materiality Zone, including the impressive collection of earthly books that fills our library here at the Fog Bob Box. I've awarded honorary earthly degrees in several professions to the townsfolk, who have taken advantage of those books for the good of the town. The various other wares, tools, machines, and gadgets I've brought in seem to have helped others hone the skills to which they are best suited. I have even allowed the Vowellans to indulge in frivolous earthly items like board games and electronics, all for the sake of broadening their experience, since they have been so isolated in this hidden valley.

As I look back, though, I think the clans are a little too spoiled, as Mok reminds me on a daily basis. I’m not sure we're any closer to finding the Vowellans’ purpose than we were when I first realized my destiny as their mentor. In the meantime, however, we've done some good things for the community.

Because so many years have passed, the original Council of Elders is gone. Wisteena says that Sas, Jeb, Fin, and Rus, along with old Cod, are now animated ceiling clouds in Ma and Pa's home in Heaven. My good friend, and Mok's great-grandpa, Jok Fog Bob, ditzy old Zen Net Ken, wild Jud Rug Bum, silly Paz Ham Bat, and sweet Lil Fig Wig fill the council chairs these days.

The Vowellans who were children when I first arrived, including my little shadow, Roz, Mok's mother, are now adults with children of their own. Though the Vowellans have evolved in many ways, to me they are still the endearing, cartoon-like creatures they always were, and I'm glad about that.

Mok helped me compile the collection of tales that I have sent along. We hope it will give you more insight into our life here in the valley. Though the events occurred in the recent past, it often seems they occurred a lifetime ago.

Until next time and with much love,

Grandpa Rob

Attachment: Heaven’s Wait! Tales from Vowella: Innocents

CHAPTER ONE

First Study

Hopping in place, Mok Fog Bob examined his full-length figure for the tiniest of flaws. The oblong mirror that hung from his bedroom door told no lies concerning his appearance. The stiff black top hat that covered his long bespectacled head, with its unruly crop of yarn-like, thick brown hair, sat parallel to the floor. The hem of his blue-and-black striped cardigan sweater hung even, as well. His trousers were smooth and tidy, thanks to his method of freeing fabric of wrinkles: hopping up and down. But Mok frowned at his impeccable appearance.

Father! Mok hollered, as he hopped toward the stark, straight-angled kitchen of his home, otherwise known in Vowella as the Fog Bob Box. Are you and Moms ready to go?

Obviously not, Mok, or we would be out there! When are you going to rise to the high level of logical thinking that is expected of Fog Bobs, son? his father barked in a deep, commanding voice. The sharp words flew from the master bedroom, situated at the far back end of the Box, through the puzzle of maze-like hallways, past the kitchen, and into his chest. Your mother and I will leave soon! Your brother will go with us!

Ouch, that hurts! Maybe you'd see my high level of logical thinking if you weren't always cutting me down, Father. Mok’s thoughts seemed to boom through the air, though logic told him they were confined to his head.

All right, Father! I'll see you there. Mok hollered back, forcing his voice to sound respectful, even though his father's words burned like fire within his torso. He paused, closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath, hoping to extinguish the flames.

Despite his Fog Bob traits, with a body shaped like a tall log, his legs attached to each other from his crotch to his ankles, and his floppy feet shaped like dinner plates, Mok bounced down the home's central hallway in a most efficient manner. His pet fox, Hog, trotted beside him. Leaving the living quarters behind, he passed side halls that led to suites where the medical, research, electronic, library, and music needs of the community of Vowella were served.

Mok popped his head through the doorway of the long, narrow research lab and peeked at his grandfather, Dr. Pol Fog Bob, whose thoughts were burrowed in his current research project.

I sure wish you'd join us once in a while, Papa Pol. I could save a place for you.

Dr. Pol, unconscious of his surroundings because of his concentration level, didn’t hear a word he said. Mok backed out of the doorway and moved on, once again pondering his father's barking tone. He scratched at his achy chest with the four pointy fingertips of his left hand.

Father, why do you spit those words at me when all I’m trying to do is be courteous? What am I doing that's so wrong? Mok’s words startled him when he realized they had actually echoed through the hallway instead of his head. He turned to see if anyone had heard his words, which would be considered inappropriate in his strict household.

Mok hopped through the front doorway onto the stoop that sat just a few yards back from Vowella's main thoroughfare, Valley Road. As Mok stared straight ahead, his vibrant blue eyes admired the sun's golden glow on the easterly Blue Zint Mountains. His protruding ears flapped in the evening’s breeze, and the burning in his chest melted into a pool of calm.

No matter what Mok's mood, which wasn't the happiest these days, the grandeur of the mountains that lay before him never failed to soothe him. Every day, he noticed how the silhouette of the section of mountain range he could see from the Box looked like a rather chubby man lying on his back. A large cluster of trees took on the role of his scruffy face, and the mountain to its right imitated his sloppy belly. Because of the presence in Vowella Valley of the Vowellans’ resident Angelicous and Mok's earth-born hero, Mr. RJ PLOM, Mok knew what earthly men looked like. RJ was in much better shape than Mok’s Man-on-the-Mountain, though. Mok found it curious that, as years passed, neither of them seemed to age.

I don't get it, Mok told the mountain in a quiet voice. I think I'm one to make any Fog Bob proud. I'm intelligent, I'm studious, I'm as quick-witted as Great Grandpa Jok, I'm as curious as Papa Pol, and my organizational skills are better than Father's. What is it that I'm supposed to do? Am I destined to live a life where being logical and analytical is all that matters?

As Mok headed north toward the spacious Ham Bat Pad for Friday's traditional Spaghetti Night, a ritual RJ PLOM initiated when he first arrived in Vowella, a soft, familiar voice hailed him. Munkee, stop the floppers! We'll go with you.

Mok watched his best friend, Kip Fig Wig, accompanied by her younger sister, Sil, hurry toward him from their home, the Fig Wig Bin, which sat across the road and a little south of the Fog Bob Box. Kip was accompanied by her very pregnant pet wista, Lizzy, who pranced along with surprising agility. Tiny Sil, dressed in simple pink overalls, hopped onto one of Mok’s floppy, saucer-like feet and reached around his knees to hold on, hoping to enjoy another bouncy ride from Mok. His long, attached legs, common to all Fog Bobs, gave him no option but to hop. Kip, dressed in similar apple-green overalls and soft cloth slippers, stood frozen in one place until the excitable fox, Hog, settled down and stopped bouncing around Lizzy.

Hey, Punkee! What’s the Wig-word? Mok had referred to Kip as Punkee, and Kip had called him Munkee as far back as they could remember.

The word is that you’re talking to yourself, Munkee, teased Kip. I heard you back there. You okay?

Sure. Always! Why is Lizzy with you tonight?

Well, her time is so close now. I thought it would be best to keep an eye on her. She can rest on the patio while we’re inside. Kip patted Lizzy’s heavy belly, which was draped in the fine, sky blue mane that was so unique to Vowella’s most treasured of pets.

Mok nodded, looking down at the doll-like creature that hugged his legs. Her wild orange curls had been pulled up into a bow on top of her head. Hey, Silee-Wig, ready to go for a ride?

Sil nodded her head in earnest. The breeze that continued to play with Mok's ears made Sil's translucent yellowish-green side fins, as well as those of her big sister, ripple from bottom to top. Mok paused to study the structure of his Fig Wig friends' figures, which were works of contrasts. Logically, their frames were too tiny to support their very large heads, their curly orange hair was too vibrant for the extremely pale skin from which it grew, and their puffy yellow lips were bigger than their two feet combined.

Hog took off up the road while Mok hopped along in a casual manner so that the much shorter Kip, who was practically sprinting, could maintain her pace. Lizzy performed an even trot. Looking back toward the dome-shaped Fig Wig Bin, Mok asked, Where’s your mama tonight?

I’m not sure. I couldn’t find her around the house. I guess she went out again. There was a noticeable tremble in her voice.

Well, she must have something important to do, reassured Mok. Concerned by the tone he heard in his friend’s voice, Mok tried to search Kip’s face, but she gave no clues. Her eye stayed fixed on the path, as was customary of the Fig Wig species. Are you worried about her?

"Maybe a little. What's up with you, Munkee? asked Kip with reciprocal concern for her friend. You seem kind of low."

Nothing new. I just can’t seem to do anything right as far as my father is concerned. Parents are a mystery, aren't they?

Of course! Kip's gaze stayed steady on the ground. You should know that by now. We've been discussing this subject our whole lives...well, at least since we've been able to talk so maybe twelve years.

Ha, can you imagine what the conversations must have sounded like when we were three? Mok smiled and shook his head at the thought.

Are you a serve-busser tonight? asked Mok. He tried his best to focus on brighter subjects, hoping she would be serving the diners and bussing the tables alongside him.

Yep, and I bet I do a better job than you! Kip was so accustomed to running alongside Mok’s hopping strides that she didn’t sound the least bit winded.

 Oh, you think so, huh? Mok checked on Sil to make sure she had a sturdy grip on his legs.

Of course, Munkee-Bob. Kip peeked up at Mok, who was still shaking his head. Hey, I'm the most discreet serve-busser ever because I'm so quiet and gentle with my motions.

Yeah, well, I guess there's no way I can be discreet when my big ol’ feet flap on the floor. You have to admit, though, that with my height and long arms, I can work an entire table from one stance, and my efficient hops allow me to move around the Ham Bats' Rec Hall in no time.

Yes, I guess I have to give you that, Munkee. Kip laughed, while little Sil leaned her head back and offered Mok a silly 8-year-old grin.

I think I like this new Clan-Learn program, Mok said with a nod, referring to the work/study program the Vowella Valley School had recently initiated. It's kind of nice getting to work in the other clans' environments, learning about their skills and habits and all.

Yeah, it’s pretty fun, and earning our own spending credits is great, added Kip. I love the fact that I can now order things for myself when Mr. RJ goes on his buying trips to New Life City.

Well, I'm hoping to get as many Clan-Learn jobs as I can. Mok's expression became one of determination. I want to learn everything about all the clans.

You're a hopeless workaholic, Munkee, giggled Kip, shaking her curly head.

Kip's fins bristled. As they continued along the road, she sensed someone approaching from the rear. The annoying hum of a familiar tune suggested that a Rug Bum stampede was imminent.

Kip rushed to guide Lizzy to safer ground. She pushed on Mok's arm and warned, Watch out behind you, Munkee! Trouble's coming!

They jumped to opposite sides of the road just in time to avoid being knocked down by their disgusting classmate, Dun Rug Bum. He zoomed past them while uttering growls and insults that sounded like lyrics to the tune he hummed:

Yeah, MUNKEE, move out of my way, MUNKEE. Babysitting your little Wiglets again, MUNKEE? You like those curly-haired, big-lipped fin-babes, MUNKEE? Don't have any other friends, MUNKEE? Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm-hmm.

Dun, a member of the rough and rowdy Rug Bum clan, loved nothing more than to harass others. The glaring frown on his face, surrounded by the matted shaggy blue fur that covered his muscular, hamburger bun-shaped body, displayed the fact that he was not in a good mood. Dun moved on toward the Ham Bat Pad while stray bubbles from the pile of suds on his head, as well as fading mumbles from his mouth, wandered through the air.

Mok shook his head and hopped back onto the road, while Sil continued to hug his legs. I sure don’t understand what goes on inside the heads of those Rug Bums.

Do you need to understand, Munkee? asked Kip.

"Yes, I think I do. Maybe he's late for work again. He accuses me of having no friends? He needs to look at himself. What a glob of rot!"

Don't, Kip interrupted. Don't say that.

You're right. Sorry! Mok should have known he would be scolded before he ever uttered a word about Dun. I know you have no tolerance for name calling, Punkee. Neither do I, but I'm so used to hearing my father use those kinds of words during his fits of impatience that I sometimes find myself uttering bits of unintended language.

Bits of unintended language? Whew! Kip whispered to herself, as she pressed her puffy lips together in an attempt to maintain a serious look on her face.

Mok flashed Kip a wounded smile that pleaded, please forgive me, which reduced Kip to an accepting chuckle.

He’s still a glob of rot, Mok whispered under his breath.

Mok and Kip followed Valley Road as it veered a few yards to the east on its way to the north end of town. They came upon the opulent, black granite mansion that was home to the greedy Net Ken clan. Decorated to lavish extremes, with sculpture-rich gardens and a grand, gold-encrusted front staircase, the Net Ken Den almost looked alien sitting within Vowella's cozy neighborhood.

Lek Net Ken, another of Mok’s and Kip's schoolmates, pulled up his second-story bedroom window and attempted to stick the top half of his rubbery purple body through its opening, but the 6-inch knob that protruded from the top of his head, adorned with two ears that were the shape of small satellite dishes, caught the bottom of the window. The knob did a boi-oi-oing dance, making the ten red eyes that surrounded Lek's hairless head roll randomly in their sockets. He shook his head to knock his senses back into their proper place, and waved both arms at Mok and Kip.

Lizzy cocked her head to the side and observed Lek’s antics with her entrancing pale blue eyes.

Hey, you two! Lek hollered. You're early. Look at you, both so handsome and all.

Hey, Lek, said Mok, with a casual wave of his twiggy arm. You're not dressed yet?

What's the wardrobe choice for tonight, Lekee-Ken? asked Kip with a giggle. She knew how hard it was for Lek to make decisions when it came to fashion. He was quite particular about his clothes, yet he was the most unorganized person she knew.

If my knob-headed sister and her knobbier friend would just get out of the wash hall, I could get ready for dinner. I've been banging on the wall and yelling at them to get out, but you know them. Jen and Nel are too wrapped up in their beauty treatments to pay me any attention, and Granny Zen is hogging the other wash hall, probably fussing with her hair rollers and getting her mountain of old-age fixers ready to take with her. It's not easy living with a bunch of females.

Mok gave him a curious stare. You should still be able to decide what to wear in the meantime.

That's true. Lek pulled several sticky notes from his pants pocket, examining them while shuffling them through his long purple fingers. Most of the notes floated down to the ground below. I guess it will either be the red shorts with the deep pockets and matching body-hugging t-shirt, or the yellow-and-black striped pants with that gold satin shirt that has the long ballooning sleeves.

Mok's brows curled into a frown. Either one sounds good. Everything doesn’t have to be perfectly coordinated for Spaghetti Night, you know.

Oh, but it does. You know how I am, explained Lek.

 Yes, I know how you are. Who was he to talk? Mok thought to himself. Wasn't he the one who primped in front of his own mirror before he left home? That was only for the sake of Father and his insistence on proper attire, he told himself.

Kip said, We'll see you in a little while, Lekee. The wave of her petite arm signaled Lek that she and Mok were moving on up the road. The knob atop his head again boi-oi-oinged as his rubbery torso retreated into the vast mansion.

By the way, Punkee, did you know my cousin Lol is the current love of Lek's life? said Mok, his eyebrows playfully rippling across his forehead.

For a split second, Mok caught a glimpse of Kip's kaleidoscope turquoise eyes as she shot him a spontaneous glance. Does he really think the most beautiful creature of us all would take him seriously? Besides, he's too young for her, don't you think? Plus, he’s not from her clan so it wouldn’t work anyway.

Not according to Lek. Mok shrugged his shoulders, which only protruded from his log-shaped body when he shrugged. Little Sil looked up at Mok and made a disapproving face.

Mok couldn’t help but laugh.