The Satellite Dragon: A Novel About the Growing Life and Adventurous Methods of Obtaining Something We as Characters Play by Roles in Life, Which Seem Mind-Boggling but Well Rehearsed.

By Oblap Mejia

A Novel about the growing life and adventurous methods of obtaining something we as characters play by roles in life, which seem mind-boggling but well rehearsed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514408506

Oblap Mejia

About the Author: This is the author’s third book about character adventures. He began to collect Hollywood research in the science fiction genre a few years ago when he was invited to sit in at several fascinating science fiction plays. He is fan of western science fiction. Later a few months into his in fascination with nonfiction book telling, he suggested, “Well why not use some craft intelligence and expand into his second fiction novel. He felt a calling for dragon satellite and soon he was more positively affected about this all when he was nominated for the certificate of appreciation, “Eliun awards” Royal Celebrity of the Year “Brave Soul.” The books humor “Satellite Dragon,” can be said to be adapted stories from uncomfortable social situations, daring actions, wild adventurous comics and wishful findings come true. After all he is greatly appreciative of many Hollywood science fiction insiders who have aided him in developing positive fictional characters and stories for his forthcoming second novel. He began formal dance training and holds MAs. He travels regularly. He enjoys X-Pole dancing, bodybuilding night shows, hunting and is editor at publication in multiple languages.

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Copyright © 2015 by Oblap Mejia.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015915261

ISBN:      Hardcover         978-1-5144-0849-0

                Softcover          978-1-5144-0848-3

                eBook              978-1-5144-0850-6

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.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 12/16/2015

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

PART ONE THE INTERVIEWEES

ONE A NEW DAY

TWO COLONIAL BONDS

PART TWO THE REPRISALS

THREE NO FRIEND OF WEALTH

FOUR RESPONDERS

FIVE SMOOTH RACONTEUR

PART THREE SEXUAL SUCCOR

SIX THE IDEAL SQUAD

SEVEN TRACK RECORD

EIGHT THE DANDELION SEED REBELLION

PART FOUR BEYOND EXTRAORDINARY

NINE LAID-BACK DESIRE

TEN THE UNREPENTANT

ELEVEN SILENT CONSCIOUSNESS

TWELVE ABOUT SURVEY AND BALLOT SYSTEMS

THIRTEEN NATIONAL OVERTIME

FOURTEEN TWO FOR TOAST

BOOKS BY STEVEN FRANK MEJIA

This book is a work of science fiction. Names, characters, places, and happenings either are the creation of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, business firms, or experience is entirely coincidental.

Other Readings by Steven Frank Mejia

Nonfiction

The Sheqel: A Strategic Intelligence Manuscript

The Awakening Layman

I dedicate this to those who have been of aid to me, especially to

Fr. Murphy—in memoriam.

Author’s Note

INTRODUCTION

It was a clear and sunny day. Clouds surrounded the sky, and a tunnel of shining light shone over the neighborhood street. The wind was cool and breezed everything in the entire vicinity. Denley, Troney, and a few other friends walked westward on a quiet street to Morfi’s deli. Quickly, they gathered that someone or something was watching them. The sudden feeling of being watched and observed felt uncomfortable in their native hometown. Someone or something had been observing them as if a video or multiple photographs had been shot simultaneously on a mission. A few others, including a young boy, slightly turned their heads to their backs and glanced up and down the maple trees surrounding the deli. In a moment, the clouds had engulfed the sun, and a large, dark, and misty shadow escaped into the ground. Suddenly, a loud and intense noise sounded somewhere in the past. The few others from the neighborhood, including Denley, began to walk faster to their destination.

Morfi’s deli was open on most holidays, excluding certain evening hours on Sundays. This was because Morfi’s deli’s staff usually attended evening worship sessions at the Lady of Priestesses Organization. The LOPO collected yearly fund-raising monies, which the organization used to aid smart students’ potential in reaching their goals. Occasionally, the LOPO used radio satellite channels to broadcast their services to millions across the globe. However, some things about the LOPO seemed a little bizarre, and curiosity about the organization gathered in the minds of the neighbors.

PART ONE

THE INTERVIEWEES

ONE

A NEW DAY

It was a blissful day, and nothing was going to ruin the young adults enjoying a meal at the Hollywood Morfi’s deli. They entered the deli and began food-shopping manager specials. The sound of car alarms rang through the roads. Troney and a few other Hollywood neighborhood fellows believed people would sound their car alarms purposefully, but the alarm sounds didn’t warn much about anything in this part of LA.

Moments later, after the few others had finished their food shopping, a group of people on the street north of Wilshire Boulevard walked along the beaten sidewalk. They yelled and screamed, No war!

Nearby, thousands of tree leaves were flattened, crushed, and ripped to pieces by several hundred people making their way to the central park. The few others noticed a few flyers on the floor. At their feet they picked a flyer that expressed in flamboyant colored letters a hate message directed to human rights abuses. It’s just a hate crime flyer. Troney ripped the flyer into several pieces. I’ll place the flyer pieces in my pocket. The others looked past the trees and faced the central park. One of the few others was a young adult who bragged about many things. He lived happily in the neighborhood.

A whiff of a lit cigarette usually kept the young adult wondering about fascinating collections of wild and wonderful missions. He kept a part-time study looking for any information of relatives prior to 1876 who lived in the Greek island, in the area of western Asia Minor.

Occasionally, the young adult would walk his pet parrot around the street, and he would encounter several cigarette butts on the floor. He gathered these types of smoking interactions where due to social interactions and public dialogues in his neighborhood.

Good afternoon, kid, a passerby whispered in his direction. The passerby wore an old and used green fedora. The fedora held a long black feather through its side threads. The young adult chuckled.

A few days later, the young adult’s mother had found her son’s pet dead under the living room furnace. Son, I think your parrot is dead! her mother yelled. The young adult looked in grief and quickly began to chuckle. Insect poison may have been the cause of your parrot’s death, the mother whispered. The young adult buried the dead parrot near the central park. He walked around a few large trees by the park. He sat on the dirt floor and dug a foot-wide and a foot-deep hole into the soil using a margarine spreader.

Hello. What a beautiful day, a stranger passerby politely uttered. The passerby this time was a woman, and she wore a long red coat with split tails on the bottom. Minutes later, he walked into his home. A woman wearing a red coat said hello to me, the young boy said to his mother. Did she have great-looking legs and a wonderful smile? her mother asked. She was flirtatious, and her legs were exposed purposefully, the young adult murmured to her mother, who was then preparing a honey-roasted coffee.

When I saw her long legs, I almost fell into a coma. I sat on the street curb and blankly stared at the woman wearing a red coat, the young adult whispered to his mother.

That same week, the young boy remembered several things about the past. He remembered to respect and accept people’s points of view and styles. His mother was glad to find that he no longer had to care about a pet, and she was glad she no longer had to round up cash to pay for pet food. She was glad she did not have to do that kind of shopping at the Morfi’s deli. The young adult was kind and studios though, and when he was not studying, he would spend time playing ball on the street with a few others from the neighborhood. The few others had discipline though, including ignoring public drug offerings and listening to loud rap music in the neighborhood.

The few others as well as the young adult usually played on the porches. Usually, a large flight of stairs connected the ends of the porches. The porches were mainly designed alike with large bricks. The square-shaped bricks were large and durable. They generally maintained their stable durability against heavy cars and heavy machinery tools. Most brick styles in that location of Hollywood were designed to resemble Greek golden key symbols. Symbols in Greece and other locations were used to express style and design anywhere the symbols were placed on. The few others were amazed by the fact that economic intelligence was poor and slow in America. During fall and summer, the neighborhood apartment managers would advertise empty rental spaces to tourists from overseas. The young adult could not recall much of the previous day. He would remember the neighborhood children playing on the rough street and making a very good day favorable. He would ignore a lot of the public who simply enjoyed rap music and many others who would curse and say bad words out loud in public. The stairs to the apartment were long and steep, but the fit to suddenly walk up and down them made it easy.

The porches of the neighboring homes were painted light brown and were held by large bricks. The square-shaped bricks were large. Greek-symbol-influenced elegance and long trees kept the apartment cool, which reached a certain distance past the steep steps to my home. The flamboyant pansies in the lawn looked pleasant like happy expressions on smiley stickers. Above all the stairs and through the open walking pathway lay a few apartments, but they seemed less used.

Once in a while, the thought of holding on tightly to the steep stairway within the apartment would remind the young boy of his early youth years. Sometimes the driving public would sound their car horns, and the young boy would run fast outside and hold on to these iron rails, which gave him a feeling of comfort and delight.

The smell of cigarettes would lead him to a place that he could vaguely foresee, but the cigarette butts in random ashtrays gave him a sense of preference. On a few times, a large number of different cigarette sticks would be found on the pavement in the shape of a small volcano, continuously spreading their ashes in a circular shape. The ashes were horrendous and would accumulate and stir in the wind like a mini tornado. They would float in the air.

The sound of nearby bells before lunch assured him of the local mass, and for the time being, he felt a welcoming sign of eloquent consciousness. He would count the steps to get from upstairs to downstairs, and there were seventeen steps. He felt the steps were there intentionally to prevent the construction of an elevator, but the exercise was another way of keeping himself fit.

Sometimes the small chandeliers in the apartment south of Western Street would shake and reflect small colorful spots on the wall from the sun. The sound of manned airplanes hurrying through the sky, flying north, would set off signs of great enthusiasm. The shadows from the planes during the weekends, he remembered, would sometimes darken the street path and create a loud and zesty blare on the clouds.

A couple of streets north, from Hobart Street to Melrose Avenue, were by far the most popular. Some stores had the best posters available to tourists just so the store owners near Hollywood would earn a million. Everything from The Incredible Hulk in green sugary gel to Wonder Woman and other classic poster figures.

The entertainment associations and tycoon conglomerates provided people anything for a price.

On some afternoons, Gailey, from across the street, would approach the young boy and begin to wonder about the Hollywood ambience.

What are you doing after lunch? she asked as she smiled.

Well, nothing, the young adult replied.

Gailey was a very nice young adult who lived by strong rules and enjoyed intelligent people who would speak honestly in everyday conversations. She was old enough to drive and engaged in adult activities.

Sometimes the young boy would walk and walk. He would think that he would walk as far as it took to reach a water fountain.

The sun shone bright, and heat crashed his pale white face as he walked along the curb near the apartment, which he called his first and last home.

The ice cream truck would usually travel from south to north, and any other direction it traveled in his surroundings would be random.

He gathered that the farther someone travelled north, the greater were the chances of coming across a fine ice cream.

Denley did not have to worry about the ice cream truck never coming because he would walk directly north to the thrift store and buy a scoop of ice cream for twenty-five cents. He would also purchase tickets at the nearby theaters for ten cents.

Denley was the neighborhood’s know-it-all. After sunrise, when it came to directions, Denley knew them all. Denley was a beautiful young adult with long, straight brown hair.

This meant she was very good with her intuition. She knew the best places to visit, with the best sales and discounts.

The young boy didn’t reprimand her; she was the kind of gal the neighborhood folks wanted to be friendly with in case of a heavy electricity cave-in or a very strong twister occurred in our neighborhood.

The young boy was Troney. He was 17 years old and a native of the town.

Troney and Denley were very good at telling jokes. He enjoyed telling a very good joke or two to anyone whom he found to be drunk or on drugs.

Denley was easy at