Right Before the Storm

By John Wagner and Mark Wagner

Pablo Sánchez has committed himself to following Jesus and to sharing the Good News with everyone he meets.
Far from home, he and his family begin to experience not only adventure and success but also hardship and tragedy.
And doubts.
Are calamities simply the natural result of living in a fallen world? Or reaping the consequences of past moral failures?
What if Pablo and his family have been caught up in the plans of powerful, malevolent forces?
And if God is in control, why does He seem so distant?

• Language: English
• Publisher: New Harbor Press
• Release date: Dec 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201315559

Book preview

To the End of the Olam

(Shadowlands)

Two Tselim sat hunched over the fire. The firelight, leaping and dancing, cast sinister shadows onto the cavernous landscape, but it couldn’t penetrate the darkness.

Darkness always accompanied the Tselim; they lived perpetually in the shadows. They breathed shadows. They exuded shadows. They were shadows.

Their ethereal realm existed in the Olam of space and time, but merely like a mirage. Inside their shadowlands, joy and peace vanished like water droplets on a hot stove. It was the absence of Goodness manifest as a location, a deep crevasse in the Olam, a dark celestial forest with an eternal sense of dread. 

Abdowan’s voice broke the silence. How far would you go to attain power?

Qorin chuckled at the question. He was a frightful thing to behold: his features less handsome than fierce, breathtaking in the way that falling off a cliff might be breathtaking. His countenance was both terrifying and pitiable, a ghastly, gaunt shell of what he was meant to be. Having been created an Eloha, through rebellious desire he had become a Tsel. His pride still intact, this tortured creature, this dark angel, willingly embraced and reveled in the pain of his eternal struggle.

Qorin sat forward. I believe you already know my reply to such a question, Abdowan. He paused for effect. To the end of the Olam. There is so much I have yet to do. But I feel that’s not what you meant. What are you really wanting to ask me?

Abdowan hesitated. He seemed the older of the two Tselim. Millennia hung upon his form like heavy snow upon the evergreens as he sat there, sagging under the weight of himself. His droopy state, together with the twisted condition of his kind, made him look torpid, even defeated. If it hadn’t been for his eyes. His eyes were bright and intense, flitting obsessively about like fire, bent on destruction. They were eyes that knew too much, eyes that had visited the dark recesses of time, eyes that people felt staring at them in the dark, when they thought they were alone, but felt otherwise.

Abdowan’s eyes flicked to his comrade. Qorin, he began, I have been offered a special mission by our Lord Deywós.

Qorin shrugged. So take it. Undoubtedly Lord Deywós will recompense you for your efforts. 

You fail to understand. This isn’t routine meddling in enemy affairs. This involves direct interactions on Earth. With humans. Face to face.

Face to face with humans! Qorin rose. This is your chance, Abdowan! Success on such a mission could very well get you promoted—you could even finally receive your own principality!

I know, I know. Lord Deywós even hinted at that. Yes, it is tantalizing. But history has shown that Lord Deywós’s plans are never quite as he presents them. Abdowan rubbed his eyes. What’s more, he’s being particularly secretive about . . . .

Qorin spread his wings. "Honestly, Abdowan! What are you afraid of? How many times must I inspire you to action? Don’t you remember? Our previous earthly missions have been great successes! After I received my principality, together we transformed the world! Abdowan, you’re to be my mentor, not the other way around! How can you hesitate on such a golden opportunity?"

Abdowan glared at Qorin. "Must it always be about your principality?! Once again, your zeal clouds your judgment, Qorin. Don’t you remember how you very nearly got us both thrown into the Pit-of-no-return? You just couldn’t see any danger in taunting those followers of the Oppressor’s Prince. You simply fail to perceive all that I sense. Not to mention failing to use common sense or exercise reasonable restraint."

‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained’ is what I say. Qorin sat again, a little closer to Abdowan. We’ve always made it through alright, and this time will be no different.

"But this time will be different. For one thing, I won’t have you to keep out of trouble—and for that I am grateful—because I’ll be going alone. Second, Lord Deywós won’t give me the details until after I accept the assignment and am ready to go. And even then, I won’t fully know what I’m getting into; he said I’ll be receiving his secret wisdom during the mission. Whatever it is, it’s clearly a matter of great importance, but I just have a bad feeling about it."

So, are you considering turning down the offer?

Abdowan sighed. I suppose, in the end, I must go. If I were to refuse such a task, Lord Deywós would make my existence a living hell.

Qorin stood up and spread his hands. There you go! So, it’s decided. I’ll see you when you get back.

Abdowan remained seated, contemplating the fire. Well, that’s the other thing. By the way that Lord Deywós was talking, I’m not at all sure if or when I will be coming back.

Qorin placed a hand on his mentor’s shoulder. "It’ll be fine. What could happen to you? They’re humans. You’re a Tsel, an Eloha! Soon they’ll be bowing at your feet in worship. Besides, Qorin gazed up at the swirling shadows above them, I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again."

Abdowan grunted, and as he turned to leave, he paused. Qorin, how far did you say you would go to attain power?

Qorin laughed as Abdowan spread his wings and flew. "To the end of the Olam. To the end of the Olam." 

> Chapter 1

Advanced Biology

(Huntington Park, California)

Pablo Sánchez seemed to have it all. He had stunning good looks: deep brown eyes, dark wavy hair to match, and a fabulous smile. He was kind and generous and his good-natured laugh invited all around him to be his friend. Respected by all, he was deeply loved by those closest to him.

Pablo was well-known for his strong Christian faith and his passion to share the Gospel with people near and far. Now he was looking forward to graduating from high school within the month and then going on to play football in college on a four-year full ride scholarship.

Then Pablo got the phone call that would shake him to his core. He sat immobile, head hung low, softly weeping as he tried to take in the news.

How could I let this happen? How did we get here?

* * * * *

Pablo’s thoughts brought him back to the first day of his junior year at Huntington Park High School, just south of Los Angeles. He was running down the hallway so he wouldn’t be late for his first day of Mr. Johnson’s Advanced Biology class. Why did I stop to talk to José about his new motorcycle? Any other day. Any other class. I can’t be late for Johnson’s class the first day!

He stepped into the classroom and slowed to a walk. I made it! He found an empty seat in the front row just before the tardy bell rang. Mr. Johnson jumped right into his first lesson, while Pablo was frantically trying to find a notebook and a pencil that wasn’t broken and still give the appearance of calm and collected. Finally settled in and ready to write, he quickly glanced at the students in the arc of desks facing their teacher to see who he knew in the class. He scanned the first row: Mario, Felipe, Barbara . . . His eyes hesitated as they landed on an unfamiliar face almost directly opposite him. Who’s the new girl? There aren’t many blondes in Huntington Park.

Just then, she looked up from her notes . . . and Pablo’s heart stopped beating. He was awestruck. He must have been staring because the next moment, her blue eyes looked right at him. Pablo caught himself and looked down, pretending to write something. Right then and there, Pablo was silently praising the Almighty that nobody else in the room had noticed his admiring gaze and that his dark complexion wonderfully concealed his blush.

Throughout the first week of class, Pablo tried to control his infatuation. He had always been friendly and gregarious; eager to strike up a conversation, with guys and girls alike. But every time he caught sight of her, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. This is crazy. I don’t even know her name. I’ve got to get over this.

On Friday of the first week, Mr. Johnson announced the groups for the first projects: Annetta Logan and Maria Lopez go to table one, David Bonilla and Lisa Moreno to table two, Julia Meyer and Pablo Sánchez to table three . . . .

Pablo didn’t know that name. What if . . . No, it couldn’t be! Surely not. He grabbed his backpack and moved toward his table, glancing around inconspicuously to see who else was moving. There were several girls, but no blondes. Not yet. Two girls were now seated together at a back table. That must be table one. There’s table two: that must be Lisa. Table three: empty. Pablo sat down with his back to the class and waited. He tried to compose himself, tried to prepare himself for whoever Julia was.

The blonde angel sat down across from Pablo, and with a foreign yet friendly voice said, Hi, I’m Julia. You must be Pablo. It’s nice to meet you.

"Yeah, it’s nice to meet you. Pablo said. Encouraged that intelligible words actually came out of his mouth, he continued. You must be new here. Where are you from?"

I’m from Germany. You can probably tell from my accent that I’m not from here, right?

No. It’s not that. I just hadn’t seen you here before. Are you like an exchange student or something?

No. My dad works for Daimler-Benz, you know, the company that makes Mercedes-Benz cars. They wanted to transfer him to Los Angeles. So we thought, ‘Los Angeles: beaches, movie stars, Disneyland. It will be so cool. Let’s go!’ So my parents and I moved here.

I see. And what do you think so far?

Well, I haven’t seen any movie stars or been to Disneyland, but I have been to the beach once, so I guess it’s OK.

And how do you speak English so good, I mean, so well?

In our school, we started learning English from the third grade.

Wow, you guys really take that seriously.

Yeah, then in the sixth grade I started French, and then in the ninth grade I started Spanish. But around here, so many people speak Spanish, I wish I had started that sooner instead of French.

So, does everyone in Germany speak English as good as you?

No, not really. You see, my parents can both speak English well, so they made sure I learned it too. We watch movies in English and listen to English music. We also travel a lot, so that gives us a chance to practice English too. That’s part of why Daimler wanted my dad to come here—because he knows the language and culture so well.

Their conversation got cut short by Mr. Johnson’s instructions about their first project. But during the next days and weeks, Pablo discovered that his new partner was not only stunningly beautiful but also incredibly nice and really smart.

> Chapter 2

Enchiladas y Birria

(Huntington Park)

Three weeks later, when Mr. Johnson announced that he was assigning new study groups, Pablo was surprised by the sudden sinking sensation inside of him. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but after a couple of days, he knew Advanced Biology just wasn’t going to be the same without Julia as his lab partner.

And he also felt a little convicted; he had talked with Julia about all kinds of things over the last three weeks, but he hadn’t uttered a single word to her about God.

Have I been ashamed to tell her that I’m a Christian? Am I afraid of what she might think? Why couldn’t I just be honest and open with her, even if she is beautiful?

Whatever mixture of emotions he was feeling, he didn’t like it. So that day, he just happened to leave class at the same time as Julia and he struck up a conversation as they walked down the hallway.

Hi, Julia, I just wanted to let you know that I enjoyed being partners with you. Thanks for being so helpful and nice.

Thank you, Pablo. That’s very kind. I have enjoyed working with you too.

Oh, thanks. By the way, what do you usually do for lunch? I mean, where do you usually go?

Well, I usually just eat here at the cafeteria. Maybe I grab a hamburger or something and just hang out. Why?

I guess I just miss talking with you. If you don’t have any other plans, maybe we could eat lunch together tomorrow.

Sure. I don’t have any big plans.

Hey, do you like Mexican food?

Yeah, I guess. You mean like Taco Bell?

No. No. I mean real Mexican food. Listen, tomorrow, at the beginning of lunch, whenever you can get there, just meet me right outside the main entrance to the school, by the stairs, OK?

OK.

Well, I better get to Math class. Have fun in English. See you tomorrow at lunch.

Yeah, see you.

* * * * *

The next day, Pablo slipped out of class a few minutes early before lunch. He met his mom, picked up their lunch, thanked her and gave her a kiss on the cheek as the bell sounded for lunch to start.

He met Julia a couple of minutes later and they found a place on the grass in front of the school to sit and eat.

"I should have asked you what you like and don’t like to eat and drink. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?

No. Whatever you have will be fine.

Pablo took out a ceramic plate wrapped in aluminum foil and handed it to Julia, along with silverware and a napkin. Then he took out a plate for himself and said, Let’s see what we have today. Enchiladas, arroz, frijoles, and removing a foil lid from a little bowl on the plate, y birria.

Pablo bowed his head and said a short prayer, then turned to Julia, smiled and said, Buen provecho.

She smiled back and replied, Guten Appetit.

Oh, the drinks! Pablo looked back into the cloth bag and found two cans wrapped in a ziplock bag of ice and a towel. It looks like the only choices are Coca-Cola or Orange Fanta.

I’ll try the Orange Fanta.

Wow, I’m surprised that my mom didn’t send glasses. You’ll have to drink it out of the can.

That will be just fine. This is amazing. Do you eat lunch like this every day?

No. To be honest, my mom has this thing about going overboard with hospitality. I just asked her if she could pack an extra lunch for a friend of mine and this is what she packed. I usually eat a couple of tacos or some other kind of leftovers out of a Tupperware container. But it is nice to eat a good hot meal on real plates for lunch sometimes.

Yes, and you’ll have to thank your mom from me. It’s all very delicious. And what is this soup, or whatever, in the bowl? It’s amazing.

That’s birria. It’s kind of a specialty from where my parents are from in Mexico.

So I guess we’re both kind of foreigners. Were you born there in Mexico?

No, I was born here. I’ve lived here in the LA area all my life . . . But you know, you were right, Julia. I am actually a foreigner here.

Oh, you don’t have your legal US citizenship yet?

No, it’s not that; I’m a US citizen. But what I’m talking about is that God has adopted me into his family and now my true citizenship is in heaven. I know that might sound crazy, but it’s true. As much as I love my life here, I’m really looking forward to going to meet Jesus and living forever with him in heaven . . . How about you, what do you think happens to us after this life?

Well, I don’t know. We’re not very religious. We’re members of the Lutheran church, but we don’t really participate much with that.

Well, being religious isn’t really what I’m talking about. Jesus had some pretty harsh words for some of the most religious people of his day. What mattered to Jesus was having a loving relationship with God.

So, does that mean you don’t have to go to church and do religious stuff?

"Well, I think if someone really loves God, there are certain things that they are going to want to do. I personally love going to church. I think it’s awesome."

I think it’s horrible and boring.

Pablo smiled. But I bet you haven’t been to my church before.

Julia smiled back. I bet you’re right. I haven’t been to any church since Christmas three years ago.

The bell rang, calling them back to class. They began to gather their lunch things together.

"Pablo, thank you so much for lunch. It was delicious. Please thank your mom for me. What are you going to do with the dishes and stuff? Can I help you clean things up?

No, thanks. It’s no problem. I’ll just stick it in my locker. Go ahead. I’ll see you in Biology.

OK. Thanks again. I really enjoyed our lunch.

As Julia walked away, Pablo put the plates back in the bag and reflected on their conversation. Probably a little too strong for someone who hasn’t been in a church for three years. She said she enjoyed our lunch. What about our conversation?

In Biology class, she said Hi but nothing more. Pablo was sad, but he had a sense of peace. At least I was finally able to be open about my faith, even if she doesn’t ever want to talk to me again.

* * * * *

A week passed, then Julia came up to Pablo at the end of class. I’d like to pay you back for your kindness, bringing me lunch last week. It just hasn’t worked out yet. I’d like to take you somewhere off campus, but lunchtime is so short. What about after school? Are you busy after school today?

Yeah, sorry. I have football practice.

Oh, OK. What about tomorrow?

I have practice tomorrow too.

OK. How about Friday?

We have a game on Friday.

Oh. Are there any days that you don’t have football practice or a game after school? Julia said with a slight smirk.

Pablo looked at Julia and said with painful trepidation, No.

Julia wasn’t expecting this, and Pablo could sense it.

Julia had known athletes in Germany. She had played sports herself. But she didn’t know anyone that did sports every day. Even if a team did have practices every day, the athletes didn’t have to go to all the practices. She thought, Pablo seemed friendly enough, but something must be wrong.

As Julia hesitated, Pablo said tentatively, How about Saturday?

Maybe, but I have to go now. Can we talk tomorrow?

Yeah, sure.

Pablo loved football. After God and his family, it was his life. In fact, on many occasions, he had allowed football to take priority over things he knew were ultimately more important. But today, Pablo felt he was being forced to choose between something good and something wonderful. Suddenly he found himself wishing that the game of football had never been invented.

> Chapter 3

Absent

(Huntington Park)

Julia was not in class the next day, nor the next, nor the next.

She finally came back to class on Monday, but something was wrong. She was usually there well before Pablo came, but today she stepped into class just seconds before the tardy bell. Pablo saw her and greeted her with a smile but had no chance to talk with her during class.

After class, he waited for her at the door. They walked through, and Julia kept walking toward her English class. Pablo’s Math class was in the opposite direction, but he kept walking with her.

I missed you the last few days. Are you OK?

Yeah, I’m OK now. How about you? How is football going?

Oh, it’s fine. We won our last game on Friday. But, they weren’t that good.

After a couple of silent strides, Julia stopped walking and turned to Pablo, I’m planning on leaving the school.

Why? Are you going back to Germany?

No, no. We’re staying here, I’m just switching schools.

When?

I don’t know. We’re still looking into it. It’s kind of complicated.

Well, shoot. Can we talk more later?

When? We’ve got class now. You’ve got football after school . . . .

I’ve got a few minutes before practice. Can you meet me at the entrance to the library?

Julia hesitated for a moment. Sure.

Pablo smiled. Great. I’ll see you then. Right after school.

Pablo got there first, but he didn’t have to wait long. They sat at a deserted table and Pablo asked, So tell me, what’s going on?

Julia hesitated for a moment, then opened up. I hate it here. The classes are a joke. They’re so easy; I’m not learning anything. And nobody likes me here. The girls all hate me. The boys are constantly whistling at me and saying rude things.

Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.

This is not what I thought California would be like. I keep thinking, it’ll get better. But it doesn’t. Last week we looked at a couple of other schools, a Lutheran one, a Catholic one, and some other one, I don’t even know what it was.

What do your parents say?

Of course they don’t want me to be unhappy, but . . . honestly, my dad is not very excited about having to pay for tuition; the private schools are so expensive and Daimler won’t pay for it.

Julia, I hope you don’t leave. There are good people here too. I’ll introduce you to some.

Thank you, Pablo. That would be nice. You’ve been very kind to me, but I don’t think you can fix this.

Well, I can try to do something.

But for now, you have to go to practice, don’t you?

Yeah, I should go, but you’ll be at school tomorrow, right?

Yeah, I’ll be here tomorrow.

Are you up for some tacos in Tupperware for lunch?

That sounds great.

"Perfecto. I’ll see you tomorrow on the front steps."

Julia said OK with a smile and Pablo ran off to the locker room with a happy heart.

Pablo’s elation turned to mild dread when he found the locker room empty. He was an expert speed-dresser and he got into his football gear as fast as he could, but he was still a couple of minutes late. The team was already lined out, almost ready to start warm-ups. Pablo ran and lined up at the back of the team lines.

Coach Estrada called out, Hey, Sánchez. What’s up? That’s not like you to be late.

Yeah, sorry, coach. I had to talk to someone.

A teacher? The principal? Are you in trouble?

No. A student was having a tough time.

Sánchez, the school’s got counselors for that. We need our football players here.

Yes, sir.

Assistant Coach Smith said, "I heard something about you and some hot German girl. Is that who you were with?

A few chuckles erupted from the team, but Pablo remained silent.

Coach Estrada persisted. "Sánchez, were you talking with a girl?"

Pablo quietly said, Yes, sir.

"Sánchez, do you think that sweet-talking some girl is more important than being with your team?

No, sir.

I don’t think so either. Do you think that just because we won last Friday, we can slack off now? Do you think that Bell and South Gate are slacking off? I guarantee you that they’re not. Do you think they’re skipping practice so that they can be with their girlfriends? I don’t think so. How about if the whole team does five extra 100-yard sprints at the end of practice to remind us all how important our team is? Now, captains, let’s get warmed up!

During the first break in practice, Pablo skipped getting water and went over to talk to Coach Estrada. Coach, you got a second?

The big man turned to Pablo. Sánchez, I’m disappointed in you. You’re only a junior, but you’re a team leader. What’s going on with you?

Coach, I’m sorry I disappointed you, but I’m asking you to reconsider the punishment. My lateness was my own doing, no one else’s. If the whole team has to run because of my mistake, then the other guys on the team may blame this girl and give her a hard time about it. I realize we are a team, and making everyone run may unify the team, but it may also make this girl’s life even worse. And if it was up to me, sir, I would like to avoid that. Please allow me to do fifty-five sprints—five for every player on the varsity team.

Coach Estrada knew football and he knew how to coach, but at that moment, he was at a complete loss for words.

Pablo looked a moment at his silent coach and then said, I better go, and turned and ran off to join his teammates.

The rest of practice went well, but Pablo was worried the whole time about what Coach was going to do to him. He remembered the tongue-lashing the team got when Billy asked for an extra water break two weeks ago when it was so hot. He also remembered how irate Estrada got when Fernando even hinted at questioning his judgment last week.

At the end of practice, Coach had the team circle up, he told them to keep working hard, he led the team in three rounds of Go Spartans! then he sent the players to the locker room. Pablo, relieved but puzzled, jogged over to the end zone to start his sprints. He had finished six of them when Coach Estrada called out to him.

Sánchez, that’s enough! Come here . . . Tell me, what’s up with this girl?

Pablo, breathing hard, took off his helmet and turned to face him. She’s wanting to switch to a different school. She says everyone hates her here. The boys whistle at her and the girls just ignore her.

Why do they hate her? Is she rude? Mean? Stuck up?

No, she’s super nice. But she’s also really smart and pretty. And she’s different. She’s from a different country and she has a lot of new things coming at her right now.

Is she your girlfriend?

No. I’m just trying to be a friend . . . So, can I finish up my sprints now, Coach?

No! Get in the locker room and get cleaned up and changed. I want to get home and see my family sometime tonight.

The next day at lunch, Pablo met Julia with a toned-down Mexican meal from his mother. The