Warrior of the Last Good Souls on Earth: Little Bulbul and Her Ghost Friends

By Betty Rosa

This fiction book is a story about A Warrior like no other here on Earth who have the powers to battle for all of man kind who have lived their life the best that they can all because of the phenomena of a sacred girl named Little Bulbul who have the last divine power here on earth, they life will live on for every because she fights for those who cannot help themselves with her four good ghost friends. And the theory in this book will give you a better reflection of your life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 28, 2008
• ISBN: 9781469124414

Betty Rosa

Betty Rosa was physically challenged as a child due to severe stuttering and dyslexia. She succeeded in overcoming these challenges by becoming an entertainer. She eventually owned a few businesses of her own, a nightclub, boutique and a beauty salon. She wrote this book to show young people who stutter and suffer with dyslexia; they can make it if they try.

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Copyright © 2008 by Betty Rosa.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2007908502

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4257-9346-3

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4257-9343-2

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4691-2441-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in

any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission

in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

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To my mom, Estella Hargrett Bridgewater, who was born on October 27, 1928, and died on May 16, 1976, for her outstanding drive and courage, and for being the best mother she could be. She was a very gifted lady who was very outgoing. She was the center point of our family who unfortunately passed away at a very young age due to a heart attack. She was a hairdresser by profession, her favorite food was cabbage and pigtails, and her favorite hair color was red. She always put others before herself, she loved to dance, loved expensive perfumes, her kids, and family: the Jennings, Hargretts, Pleasants, Gibbs, Bridgewaters, Benifield, also Curtis, Rosa, Duncan, Miller, Plaza, Spain, Black, Morton, Gram, Clay, Johnson, and Wiley.

Let me tell you about my sister, who was a little girl, named Little Bulbul, with very long hair and with the most beautiful brown eyes.

Our grandma named her after the bulbul songbird; Little Bulbul lived with our grandma Estella because our mama Arlene had a lot of other kids to take care of and feed. And she loved Little Bulbul a lot, but the only thing was she could not take care of her because you see Little Bulbul was a very sick little girl.

And later she could not walk or talk. Then she was sent to live with our grandma who gave her lots of tender loving care every day of her life.

Also our Little Bulbul was now my grandma’s child. Grandma worked in the market place selling peanuts and flowers, and every time she went to work, she would never leave Little Bulbul alone.

That was because one day, when Little Bulbul was nine-month old, Grandma went into the kitchen to make some food for Little Bulbul, and the baby crawled behind her,

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And Grandma did not see her, so she stepped backward on her left knee; and at the same time, she had broken Little Bulbul’s knee.

Little Bulbul yelled out so loud in panic until Grandma started crying, and she pulled the baby off the floor very gently.

And she ran and got her blue pullover sweater, wrapped Little Bulbul in a big red blanket, and then snatched her keys off the hall table and ran to her old brown station wagon, with Little Bulbul, as fast as she could to the hospital down the street from their house.

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As Grandma was entering the hospital, she was yelling, Help! Help! Help! My baby! My baby! Then eight nurses came running as fast as they could because both Grandma and Little Bulbul were crying out so very loud. What’s wrong? asked one of the nurses in a very soft voice.

It’s my baby! cried Grandma. What happen? asked one of the other nurses as she was removing Little Bulbul from Grandma’s arms.

She’s hurt! She is hurt very badly because I had stepped backward on her knee, and I think it may be broken, cried Grandma.

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Then we will see, said one of the other nurse. Now please go sit into the room, down the hallway to your left, and we will take good care of her.

Can I please go with you, or can I please wait here? cried Grandma.

"Oh, I am so sorry, ma’am, there are rules that were not made by us, but your baby will get the best of care here. OK, Mrs. Estella?

Thank you, replied Grandma, but can you please tell me what happen as soon as you know something?

We will, said the nurse.

But will you send someone to get me, please?

Yes, we will, but for now, we need some information about your child.

OK, Grandma replied in a very sad voice.

Now can you tell me the baby’s name and age? asked the tall black-haired nurse.

Why certainly! cried Grandma. Her name is Bulbul Bridgewater, and she is nine-month old, but unfortunately I am only her grandmamma, but she lives with me as my baby.

Bulbul are you saying? asked the nurse.

Why yes, replied Grandma.

Well, that is a beautiful name, said Nurse Florence, that is the name of the songbird right?

Yes. Grandma at last smiled.

Because she had pick her name, when anyone knows what it means, that always makes her happy, actually every time someone gets it right.

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Grandma was in that hospital a very long time that day until Dr. John Black came out and told her that the baby would be fine, and that she was sleeping and that she would have a long stay in the hospital, so she could go home and come back tomorrow. And then he told Grandma, in a very soft voice, that they have a crisis here with Little Bulbul, that Grandma began leaping up out of her chair in front of the doctor yelling, Oh no! What is it?

She was holding both of her hands to her mouth and tried to keep her balance, all at the same time, as the doctor reached out to catch her.

And at the same time, he was asking her if she was OK.

Yes, she said.

Well relax, Mrs. Estella, please.

That was when he knew that it was his responsibility to tell her the very sad news that Little Bulbul’s knee was broken, and that he was working very hard on it. Poor Grandma, she never stopped crying that whole day.

She blamed herself when she was telling her daughter and the other family members and friends how she had injured her granddaughter.

A few weeks later, the doctor told Grandma that she could come and take Little Bulbul home, and that he had put a tiny knee brace on her knee.

And it was designed just for small babies like Little Bulbul; the doctor had told the exhausted and stressed-out Grandma that he had to see the baby every month for a year and six months, and that everyone that had to come around her had to be very careful around the baby’s knee from the irritation and the swelling, most of all from the pain they might inflict. And every day after that, Grandma nourished and took very good care of Little Bulbul who grew more beautiful each day as time went by. By the time she was three years old, her knee had gotten really strong; but where the knee had crack, when she was so young, it left a bad scar there for life.

And by now, the doctor was not certain when she would walk, if now or never. Grandma never wanted any sympathy for her or her child, but she would always, through the years, massage Little Bulbul’s knee every day, rain or shine. One day, Grandma began to notice how brilliant the baby was because now, the three-year-old little girl could find everything in the dark, even very small black ants. So Grandma would often tell others that she believed that Little Bulbul was designed by angels because she could strike anything that she saw that was crawling in the dark with no difficulty at all.

Later Grandma found out why she was so quiet but smiled all the time. It was because not only was she unable to walk, but also the sweet child could not even talk.

But others would always ask Grandma if she had improve, as they would frequently pat Grandma on her shoulder just to remind her of their kindness or for just being there to comfort her at all times; and that always made Grandma very happy, especially when everyone came up to her in the market place with their unfolding words of aspirations and compliments. But no one ever knew that Little Bulbul really was a miracle child, not even Grandma at that time because not only did the dark looked like daylight to her, but also she could even see the dead, and she played with dead kids also.

Even when she was a tiny little baby, she had every type of ghost friends, ones who loved to sing and dance and others who tell jokes, ride pony, read books, and draw anything.

And there was also a friend who liked to travel a lot all over the world, and when Grandma was sleeping, she would take her all over the world with her.

To see the most beautiful flower that exist anywhere on earth, under the earth, other lands, outer space, and if you can think of any places at all, well yes! She has been there. Grandma began to be amazed at all of her skills more and more each day.

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Most of all, each time she would see her do small wonder in the dark, like one night when Grandma was asleep, Little Bulbul had crawled in to her room in the dark and got up on her bed, and there was laying on top of her pillow, a big old salamander.

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It was close to her sheets, and Little Bulbul pulled her right ears, as always when she needed something, from her Grandma who always wakes up very fast. You OK? asked Grandma smiling. Little Bulbul pointed to the salamander on her bed close to her pillow, and Grandma and the salamander looked into each other’s eyes; and the salamander took off running, and then Grandma grabbed that pillows from under her head and went running with it, with the pillow way up into the air, but the salamander jump down an was too fast for her and got away.

Then Grandma said to herself, How could that child see in the dark like that? She wondered to herself as she went back and got back into bed.

She talked up a storm to Little Bulbul about that salamander and told her if she was OK. But poor Little Bulbul couldn’t answer her back.

It was sad but, the doctor could never find out why Little Bulbul could never walk or talk, but no one cared any longer, only when Little Bulbul was about five years old.

Grandma was no longer able to control her activity as well as before because sometime at nights, in her small domain, her friends always wanted her to come out and join them in play because Grandma would be sleeping, and she would be up all along at night all by herself.

She went and pushed the back door open and crawled out of Grandma’s backdoor way, and that night it was so very dark.

She got up out of her bed, where Grandma had laid her down to sleep, and after that, well Grandma wanted to laid down herself so she herself would go into her room she would fall fast to sleep; so when Little Bulbul could not get to sleep.

She played and played by herself, but it was not enough fun for her, so she wanted to go outside and summon her ghost friends to come and play with her, and she didn’t want to wake up Grandma because she had worked so hard today and was very tired.

So that was why she crawled out of bed. Then Little Bulbul crawled to the kitchen and pushed the back door open, and she went crawling down the back step out to a path that lead you into the backwoods of Grandma’s red brick house to summon her ghost friends.

And she had not one fear inside of her little body, but now if we could only see what Little Bulbul could see in the dark, we would never have to pay another light bill because everything at night always looked as if it was daylight out there for her.

And it really would look pitch-dark to us because she really could see every tree and even every hold in the ground, just everything that we needed a real big flash to see with; and that night, as she was playing and laughing with all of her dead friends, she could even talk and walk with them. But still on that same pitch-dark night, when Grandma did get up to check on her as she did always, well this time, she was nowhere to be found in her bed. So Grandma yelled out to he her saying, Little Bulbul, where are you!

She looked under the bed to see if she had fell out of it; she even looked under the tables, so she ran all over the entire house, but still she was nowhere in the house to be found. Then she cried out more, Come to Grandma, honey.

Then Grandma could not stop crying as she began running outside her house like a mad woman and still yelling, Where are you, honey?

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Then she looked back into the house through every window and back through every door, and she still could not find her, so she went back into the house and grabbed her big flashlight from inside the front door off the brown-end table, next to the side of the doorway, to go look outside her house once more, and this time for her to go all