Tyrone Evans Clark's Grapefruit: Season I: The Wrath of Love

By Tyrone E. Clark

This story takes place around the 17th century in South Auckland which is located in New Zealand. During this period people were forced to fight against the evil Fiends (Demons/Evil Spirits). This first book primarily focuses on an South Auckland old woman named Virtuous who gets caught up in magic. As a result of her actions it ends up changing her life forever. Later on she is summoned and forced to fight for her life against pure evil. A Royal and a bunch of other demonic entities are willing to do anything to stop her from becoming Victorious!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098382292

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Enchanted Fruit

It was a sunken and dreary morning in South Auckland, not much unlike the other days. New Zealand was not a thriving country in the mid-17th century as the impact of poverty and ludicrous warring had drenched the country into decline. Where numerous communities struggled to stay alive and feed their families, there was not much to want for. Amidst the cold airs and dark alleyways, there was not much to see but decapitated homes and sully children roaming around. In the middle of this lifeless island area, something was taking place. A magic of sorts, a change in the grimy square, in a town that you would never be able to locate on a map. A spectacle that would change the course of history.

Our story begins somewhere around mid-morning when the townspeople came out of their homes in search of sustenance. Trade had long since been eradicated due to extreme economic conditions, so the only jobs left were to beg each other for scraps or to go beyond the walls and never return. Although the tale of life beyond the town was never formally told, it was known that those who dared to leave would never return. For centuries now, no one had braved their circumstances or gone on to try. In fact, most children born would die before they hit their twenties. But, all of this was about to change.

The people were about in the square, with their dirty, let down faces and rags that hung perilously from their lifeless bodies. Children seldom laughed or played in this rural town because there was no cause to be happy. The youngest of them would always be ill and in their homes, while older ones would loiter the streets in search of food and water. They never had long to live, so births were not celebrated. As the routine hustle went about much like every other passing day, an anomaly came into the square.

A woman approached the center of the square, dragging her feet as she did. Her appearance was haggard beyond belief, from the rags she adorned to the age apparent on her face. With stretched lines all across her forehead and mouth, you could assume that this gapeseed was well over eighty years old. The gravel road she dragged her tired feet on felt the weight of her years as she strode forward with dirty white hair spilling around her low shoulders. Even in her depressing state, you could tell she used to hold authority. Perhaps in another life, another time. Before this hell-like existence, she was someone people revered.

But this was now. And nothing was revered like the hand that fed you. So, when she stopped in her tracks at the shingle, nobody took note of her. After a moment of silence, the woman began to wail.

Peasants and countrymen stopped in their tracks, snapped out of their hazes and pulled back from their thoughts of want and hunger for a second to register her. Not only was her appearance terrifying, she also smelled like feces had been flung at her. Her hair emitted a urine-like miasma, and the townspeople began to turn away from her horrifying manifestation.

Can I have some food? Please, can I have some kai? I want some kai. I am so hungry! the woman began to yell.

Aye? one person asked confusedly.

The woman seemed distressed beyond words, beyond the hunger she was expressing so loudly. Can someone please give me some kai? I am begging you! Please, I am so hungry, please help me!

The people glared in her direction, out of frustration and anger, but more because she seemed insane. Nobody had the time to deal with such an issue. Survival was the only thing that mattered. People began to pull their children away from where the haggard woman stood, crying hysterically.

Humans are supposed to help one another, the munted woman continued. Why isn’t anyone helping me? I need kai, I need it. I am starving. Please help me!

She turned in all directions, continuing her rant, getting audibly louder and more out of her mind. I desire a feast, do you hear me? Something delicious and mouthwatering! I need wonderful food that will feel my soul and fulfill me!

Do ye know who I am? the old woman yelled. Do ye know how important I am? Listen to me, ye peasants!

After several minutes of iteration, a young boy stepped forward from the crowd. He could not be more than six years old, a wood mite of a child, yet his stature was strong and brave. The child stepped forward, cautiously to where the hag was screaming. He had a small cup in his hands. No one dared to stop him because he had no one to look after him. Orphaned from a very young age, the boy did not have a mother to take him into her arms and soothe his troubled mind.

The child reached the anomaly in the middle of the square. She looked at his visage questioningly and noticed the determination in his beady eyes. He put forward the cup with his right hand, and she saw it was filled with murky, brown water. The offering looked repulsive, but something in the munted hag softened.

It’s all I have, the boy mumbled in his small voice. Take it.

She took the cup from his small hands, clearly pleased at the child’s generosity. Thank ye. Aye, may God bless ye.

The boy muttered something under his breath and backtracked, disappearing into one of the decapitated flats. The people watched him go and then turned their gaze to the woman. She stood there like a stillborn, with the cup of dirty water gripped in her worn down hands. She looked saddened and grateful as if the child’s kindness had mended a part of her broken soul.

Crazy hag, someone said, and they all began to disperse. Crazy woman, aye.

The woman felt absolutely dejected, but she did have some hope in her dead eyes. The townspeople did not notice this, or they simply did not care. They just did not have anything to offer her.

***

The following day, the munted woman came back. This was a shock to nearly everyone in the town because no event continued to take place in their depilated area. Usually, if an occurrence took place, it lasted one day, and then everyone forgot about it. But, this was no ordinary incident. This was fate taking control of a rundown world by its hands. The woman began her yelling a bit earlier on the second day. She stood with her spectral form in the middle of the shingle and began the chant. The peasants from before looked on and wondered why she was begging them for food when they barely had scraps.

The woman carried on with her charade until a young girl courageously stepped forward and presented her with a dirty scarf that had been worn and torn from years of use. The actions of the young girl did make the older woman happier, and she seemed a bit more sedated. However, the sadness inside her was still quite evident and manifested as soon as the girl walked away. The crowd once again dispersed because they were getting tired of her exploitation and had their own problems to deal with.

The third day was not much different. Everyone saw the old woman pull up to the square, and voices went around calling her ‘crazy’ and ‘out of her mind’. The old hag did not pay much heed to the chatter and instead went on with her ritual.

Does anyone have some kai that I can eat? Please give me some kai. I am so hungry! Please, please help me!

Finally, after much of the ruckus annoyed the townsfolk, an old man came forward. He presented the woman with a filthy pair of shoes, with faded soles and a dull grey color from years of wear and tear. The old woman’s face softened at his kindness as she saw that he was barefoot himself. Besides the little girl, the old man was the only one who dared to assist the old woman. He had handed her a pair of old shoes, the only ones he had. But she saw through his actions. Before she could even thank him, he walked back dejectedly on bare feet, cracked at the soles, and exhausted from age.

***

Despite the eventful first three days, there was not much of import that happened until the fourth consecutive day of the old woman’s begging. She kept asking people for food and would not quiet down her voice, a futile attempt as there was no food to go around. For some reason, the old woman was pushing more on the fourth day. Was it intense desperation or starvation which was getting to her? And, how long could she keep this up? The townspeople wondered if this was going to be an everyday occurrence, if she was going to plague their bleak lives until she died. But, they did not have to worry too much. After all, she was just an old munted woman.

Please give me some kai to eat, I cannot take it anymore. Do ye hear me? I want some kai now!

The shingle road seemed to become its own in the following moment. Nothing around the woman changed, but there was a hum in the air. It was as if the rocks buried in the earth were rising to the top. The old woman was caught off balance but before she could say anything, a figure appeared in front of her.

There was a beautiful woman standing in front of her. She was adorned in a hood like garment that covered her eyes. The hood faded into a long black dress wrapped around the woman’s body. This happened in mere seconds but the old woman did not notice. Her new companion came with soot-black eyes hidden under darkish blonde hair. There was a luminous shade to her skin, of youth and health, something the town had not seen in decades. She smiled ever so slightly at the old hag, showing no lines on her perfect face. The mysterious woman put her right hand forward in offering: what she held was a grapefruit.

South Auckland had not seen the advent of fruits in spring or the summertime. So, to be presented with a real grapefruit, juicy and fresh in the morning, was a blessing. The peasants took no notice of the munted woman and her new acquaintance on the shingle road because nothing extraordinary ever happened in South Auckland.

The old woman was delighted with this new offering, and she took the grapefruit in her cold hands gladly. The sadness that had enveloped her for days was gone, replaced by a newfound hope and hunger, something akin to gratitude if nothing else.

Before the old woman could finally eat after days of yelling and begging, she properly registered the person in front of her. The beautiful woman did not leave. She stood there, with her gentle face and kind eyes, smiling at the depleted woman. There was something about this stranger, something enigmatic and fiery. But what was it?

The beautiful woman placed her hand on the old woman’s cheek. Do you remember who I am? she asked in a melodic tone. Do you know my name?

The old woman shook her head no.

Do you even know your own name? the stranger continued.

The old woman sighed and lowered her head. She raised her other hand, the one not holding the grapefruit, to her mouth, and began to bite her dirty nails. Honestly, I don’t remember it. I don’t know how I came here or who I was before. All I know is that I have been hungry for days, and nobody has helped me. I-I have nowhere to live, and I smell as if I have not washed myself in months. I am so lost. So lost.

The old woman’s face lost its hardness for a second, and the sight of who she used to be could be seen through the cracks. But I am happy now. Ye gave me this fruit. Bless. I cannot thank ye enough.

The beautiful woman began to smile wider, showing a set of pearly white teeth. She was overwhelmingly perfect in contrast to the dull and dreary town landscape, making her stand out like a sore thumb. But, the old woman could not stop gazing fondly at her new companion.

I am Immoral. I used to work with you at the corner shop some years ago, the woman said. Remember, Old Man Bridge and his dairy shop? He was such a swill-belly. We used to work the night shift. You were so good with your hands, the best baker in South Auckland.

Really? the old woman asked, her face lit up. People loved me?

Very much so, her friend said. Your name was Virtuous.

Virtuous, I like that. I like that a lot.

I was hoping you would, said Immoral. I’ve missed you.

Tears filled up in Virtuous’s eyes. That means so much. Thank ye for talking to me. No one had spoken to me in so long, and it has been so-so lonely. I don’t blame them, who would want to talk to something like me? I’m insane. I’m crazy.

She shook her head. But that’s okay. I’m fine. I have some kai now. I will be okay.

Virtuous looked at the grapefruit in her hands, its glistening flesh inviting her to take a bite. Tempted and hungry, she brought it closer to her mouth. Before she could delve into the pleasure of a first bite, Immoral stopped her suddenly.

Virtuous gave her a quizzical look. Immoral’s stance had changed; her dark eyes had turned serious and solemn. Before you eat this, dear friend, remember that everything comes at a price. Nothing in this world is free.

Virtuous looked distraught as Immoral spoke, her words making their impact. What does that mean? I just want some kai. What do ye mean?

Aye, my friend. I did not mean to scare you. Be warned.

Virtuous thought over her words, and as she mulled over what was said to her, she saw Immoral turn around and leave.

W-where are you going? she asked.

I have to go now, Immoral said over her shoulder. Heed my words, Virtuous. Farewell.

Please stay longer. You know who I am. I want to know about my past and you. Please don’t go!

Suddenly, the hood like garment reappeared on Immoral’s body and encased her. She pulled it over her head and faded into smoke and mist. Immoral disappeared as fast as she came. The shingle road felt her absence, and a mist of smoke stood where she was. Virtuous felt her sadness return and settle gently into her bones. It was charismatic, how well it fit. She looked at the fruit in her hand, found it to be a cursed blessing of sorts. Without thinking further, she took a bite.

The grapefruit was delicious, ripe, and full of flavor. Wow, Virtuous mumbled as she ate. "So yummy! So yummy in my puku!

The ground beneath her feet began to shake, and her body trembled at the rapture. She held onto the grapefruit tightly and looked around in fear. She could feel her eyes getting droopy and the winds picking up. In a matter of seconds, Virtuous fell to the ground, and the world fell silent.

***

There was a beam of light trying to get through. All around her was light, inviting and open. It was unlike anything she had seen before, blinding and unreal. Slowly, Virtuous realized her eyes were closed. She opened them carefully as if waiting for some sort of attack. She found herself in an alleyway, dark and dirty as all the streets in Auckland. The light was nowhere to be found, so she assumed that it was a heavy dream.

She got up groggily, stumbled and then straightened up. Her stomach felt full from that one bite and her bones no longer hurt. What kind of a magic fruit was that? She thought to herself. Shaking her head, she looked around to see where the rest of it was. She found it next to the spot where she had been laying, untouched except the bite she had taken.

When she bent to pick it up, she found that her back no longer hurt. That was strange because the only thing her old body could remember was the pain. Her hand reached out towards the grapefruit but then stopped. She was looking at her fingers, no longer grimy and dirty with veins running to her arms. Instead, she saw the hand of a young woman with porcelain skin and agile fingers.

Her eyes could not believe what they saw. She looked at both of her hands intensely, gawking at their ageless beauty. Looking down on her body, she saw that although she was still dressed in rags, they were clean. Her legs and feet were as smooth as her hands, and she ran to the other side of the alley where she saw a window.

When she reached the window, she was in awe of what was in the reflection. No longer was she a munted old woman with beady eyes and falling teeth. Instead, she was a beautiful young woman with skin like buttermilk and luscious dark hair. She smelled of orange citrus, pleasant and welcoming, and her blue eyes were piercing even to her. She touched her full lips in awe, amazed at this stroke of luck.

What is this? she whispered to herself. What has happened to me?

Turning away from the window, she looked into a puddle she found. There it was, a beautiful young girl staring back at her. Virtuous touched her face all over in disbelief, unable to process her glee. I-I have been blessed. My goodness, I’m so young!

She began to laugh from joy and spun around the alley. I’m blessed, I’m blessed, she chanted. I’m young again. I’m beautiful again!

She took her yelling out of the alley, into the streets. She ran all the way to the shingle road, letting her young feet guide her as she screamed in euphoria. She still couldn’t believe her stroke of luck. Magic had existed in Auckland centuries ago, but it had died out when the old charm casters left. This was new. This was different.

The townspeople noticed the yelling and saw a young woman causing the commotion. No longer were they turned away by the stench of a munted old hag, but now they came closer to the beautiful girl, curious as to who she was.

I got a second chance, Virtuous beamed. I deserve this. I won’t take it for granted!

The peasants did not understand what she meant, but they were intrigued. They smiled when she smiled and laughed when she did. She was so beautiful, and it was hard to ignore her. The rags she wore did not make her any less appealing, and as she began to dance in joy, they joined her.

For the longest time, there had been nothing to celebrate in South Auckland. The townspeople wanted to forget their pains and sorrows. So, they danced and jumped and yelled, AYE! with Virtuous. They felt happy after eons, despite the hunger and poverty that had raided their lives.

I feel amazing. I don’t understand why! someone said in the crowd. Virtuous could only smile.

***

What happened next was nothing short of magical. In the five days that followed Virtuous’s transformation, South Auckland became unrecognizable. There were bounds of fish filling the Tasman Sea and South Pacific Ocean, while trees grew alongside the coastline. Fruit sprouted in areas where vegetation was scarce, and for the first time in years, there were crops to consume and sell. This was all enveloped in a bright blue sky with ample sunlight every single day. It was almost as if restoration and rejuvenation had taken place.

The townspeople noticed that this change came when the young girl ran to the shingle road. So, they considered her to be a good luck charm. The children would play and dance with Virtuous all day long while the adults would talk to her and look at her fondly when she ran around the streets. There was new life in the town, as the cobblestones shone and the dirt melted away.

Magic, they called it. She’s magic.

The little boy who had given Virtuous the cup of water on the first day became her friend. Of course, he did not know that this twenty-year-old girl was the old woman he had been kind to. However, that did not matter to Virtuous. She was deliriously happy, and all she wanted to do was dance and play with the children under the sun. At night she would stay at different houses with everyone willing to host her. There was an abundance of food which everyone consumed, and Virtuous was the reason it even existed.

Everything is good again, she said to the little boy one day. Everything is golden.

The young chap laughed innocently. I could dance all day, I really could!

So could I, she said, and they began to chase after each other.

The celebrations began to move towards the sea. Fishing was taken up as a profession again, and men would go off in the morning with their boats and nets. During the evening, the women