The Womens Booze and Book club of Terra Verda

By Claude E. Smith

The story is about six women who kill a man over a recipe and cause a riot in the southern state of Florida which is in the United States. The riot awakens God or what humans perceive as God. During the riot the towns people secrets are exposed after the murder and gossip spreads throughout the city, state and the entire United States and world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Dec 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781685153366

Claude E. Smith

Claude E. Smith is a former private investigator and has solved many international crimes. He is an artist, sculptor, writer and father of seven children. His writing is a labor of love.

Book preview

Chapter One

C

ool breezes from the approaching clouds off the coast of Saint Petersburg blended together with the hot steamy salt waters from the Gulf of Mexico in a graceful dance that can only be compared to a ballet of angels. The hot, misty waters rose gracefully into the atmosphere and mixed with the cool breezes of those clouds, which then began to form a large, darkening storm. The storm's appearance was legendarily dangerous, and its weather dance and performance had been an ancient, public grand presentation, which was scripted and composed by nature at the beginning of Earth's existence. The circulation of contagious, condensed vaporous water and ice suspended itself in the atmosphere and created a ghostly wall of darkness. A child called Calusa watched the apparition begin to take its complete form as the sun's bright light beamed down through the darkening clouds. To little Calusa the bright light coming from the storm looked like beams of grace from heaven; the light shined through the dark clouds, just like a church picture.

Saint Petersburg's tropical sky exploded in powerful, flaming colors of vibrant, ruby reds, emerald oranges, and hot pinks before the young girl's eyes. Their colors filled the heavens with streaks of bright lightning bolts, and the lightning flashed across the sky in spectacular, bright colors. The colorful clouds surrounded the darkening ones fought for supremacy of heaven and earth. The colorful clouds’ fight was a losing battle, for the ever-enlarging darker ghostly clouds were a very small contingent of a massive approaching horror. And the darkness began to overwhelm the vibrant colors of light. This expanding, colorful apparition put on a spellbinding opera as it fought for its existence. All of its performing colors seemed to play their roles as they magically melted into the warm azure water within the Gulf of Mexico. The opera in the heavens was a tremendous success and the beginnings of stupendous awe of dread. It was a truly, monumental monstrosity.

Heavy raindrops from this monstrosity beat down on the hot, steaming tin roof, which protected the child from the storm's rain. Edith, the child who is also called Calusa, looked on in astonishment. Her young face was frozen in a mask of fearful wonder, and she was truly speechless. Little Edith sat under the tin roof, which set on top of a new house that was made to look old and directly faced the gulf waters. She was sitting on a couch in a living room in front of a large window with one family member. She and this one other gazed at nature's fury and the natural grand opera being performed before their eyes.

Without notice, little Edith, also known as Calusa, nervously retreated into this other's lap; her aunt Vagina's protective arm's enfolded Edith. The child's aunt kissed her head, then whispered in her ear. Be still child. You don’t have to worry about this storm harming you. It's not gonna hurt you or anyone in this city. Little Edith knew better as the scary lightning streaked across the clouds, and the storm continued to grow in size. Those same clouds began to darken outside their window's protection as the clouds expanded and grandly pressurized the heavens in an exquisite display of devastating power.

Lightning bathed the house with its infectious, bright light, then cracked another ear-shattering boom that made the child jump in fear. Her aunt held her tighter as the young girl turned her face from the natural opera's drama. Edith then forcefully buried her fright-filled face in her aunt Vagina's chest.

The atmosphere and the ground outside of the house rumbled and shook the home's foundation and its walls like a powerful earthquake. But aunt Vagina showed no fear and never stopped looking out of the large window. They are gathering, Edith's aunt whispered. No man can control the sky or earth, Edith. And most women are smart enough to respect its majesty and strength, then behold its splendor.

Edith tried to smile, but it only lasted for a split second. For the fear in her little body still controlled her every action, especially her facial expressions and her fast-beating heart. Aunt Vagina felt the child's pounding heartbeat against her own chest, and the child's little body was shaking like a rabbit in terror. A wave of tender compassion washed over aunt Vagina's soul. She looked down at the child and kissed young Edith's head again. She then put her lips close to the frightened child's ear and said, Baby, my dear sweet little child. God lives in Saint Petersburg, dear girl, and he will not let any storm he created harm us here. So be still, and never fear. Be strong and always believe that God lives here. Many things may happen today on this earth, sweet child, but they will pass, so do not be afraid. Like all things, the storm shall pass. Believe your auntie, child. These things shall pass. For God lives in Saint Petersburg, darling, and right now God's only telling us that he's in town and has awakened.

The storm continued to boom with thunder, and the sound of that thunder cracked the air as lightning flashes swam in the center of young Edith's eyes. Suddenly Edith decided to challenge her fears and look out the window at the storm's progress. The heavenly clouds violently loomed and boomed in an explosive display of their celestial grandness. Electrical streaks of God's might pounded the sea and the surrounding landscape more aggressively. The strength in young Edith's heart grew as she thought about what her aunt said, and the storm's glorious power vaporized any doubts in the child's mind and soul about the truth of God's power and existence. She also realized that the scary storm had not hurt them, and she was now a true believer and positively knew where God lived. Edith could never in life be convinced that God did not live in Saint Petersburg, Florida.

Chapter Two

T

hroughout the passing years, Edith held on to that very memorable childhood experience as she felt a horrible pain concentrating itself in the center of her chest in her now seventy-year-old body. Because of this reoccurring pain in her chest, Edith had to acknowledge the truth of today's horrible, recent facts—facts she fought to suppress within herself as she tried to not let past or present events cause her to cry or feel pain and regret, but she did feel regret, and she did feel horrible physical pain that made her cry. Since the riot occurred, Edith had not heard a word from five of her seven children, which increased the pain in her chest each day.

The pain she felt had become very excruciating, and no amount of medicine seemed to cure its debilitating effects. Years ago, when the same pain was less of a problem, her doctors prescribed mild sedatives. However, Edith's new doctors, who were prison doctors that worked where Edith now lived in confinement, rudely told her that the pain in her chest and body was all psychosomatic.

Edith laughed in their young faces, even though she was in pain. She then boldly told the prison doctors that her body's symptoms were not caused by emotional disturbances. She said this as she fought to control the pain in her body. Smiling from ear-to-ear, Edith then explained to the prion staff that no mental, personal interactions with life situations past or present hurt her or could hurt her. Edith then falsely smiled in pain and loudly proclaimed that both doctors were quacks whose many past malpractice suits placed them in their present positions as quack doctors forced to work in a prison.

Edith could not stop talking and bad-mouthing the prison staff, because talking a lot helped her fight off the horrible pain she felt. So as she continued to loudly tell the prison doctors that their own situations in life occurred because of their lack of real medical knowledge and insight, which caused their in-ability to recognize any true human medical problem was the problem. Edith did not realize that her new prison doctors were in fact not polite nor medically endowed as their fellow medical colleagues who had not been associated with malpractice indictments. Truth be told, her new doctors were in fact prison doctors who were downright vengefully evil and full of discontent, and those prison doctors were true specialists in the art of performing psychological torture, which led to pain and caused many of their patients to commit suicide. These certain doctors and nurses loved to scare people into actual death.

Some of the prison staff lived for those moments that made inmates terrified. The prison staff also filmed the suffering of their victims who they forced into murdering themselves. The vengeful staff had parties as they watched their finely tuned art of filmmaking after the torture at work and later on at home. If there was a picture book of true evil, these so-called good and kind professional people's faces would be on the front pages of every major newspaper and television broadcast. Unfortunately most humans see what they want to see and believe what is easiest on their belief system and way of life—it is not happening to me or my loved ones and never will, so why care is their thought process.

In the blink of many joyful eyes, the doctors labeled Mrs. Edith—prisoner 224372—as an officially dangerous, insane inmate. This new diagnosis resulted in Mrs. Edith's instant and rough placement alone in a padded prison cell, where she received half rations that were purposely poorly cooked to encourage adverse behavior and suicide. During it all Edith tried to hold on to her dignity as she was roughly placed in her all-white padded cell. Only after many days had passed by did the isolation and bad-smelling food started to cause cracks in her self-respecting armor.

Mrs. Edith had built up a powerful mental protection block over a lifetime, and it had always worked, however not this time. Not after the prison staff purposely woke Edith up every thirty minutes for weeks, then months as many walked past Edith's cell door, telling her to kill herself, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, which turned into four months. Edith's armor did eventually break apart, and she cried endlessly with no response from the many passing guards and medical staff who just smiled and sometimes laughed. They were evil after all.

Edith became a wreck and she actually started screaming at people passing by her prison cell and shouting that her treatment was inhumane. Still no staff members stopped to check on her, and they left her in isolation without so much as a hello. The guards did not say a word either, even when they pushed her foul-smelling food through a small slot in her padded cell door. After five and a half months, Mrs. Edith was horribly thin, shaking, and covered in urine, and she would have been covered in own feces, but she had stopped eating over two months earlier.

Edith was taken out of the thing they called the hole and made to shower, then placed back in a dorm setting with other prisoners. Sheriff Grandmills had gotten wind of Edith's abuse and instantly called the prison's warden, who stopped the foul treatment of Edith although he was the person who ordered the abusive treatment in the first place.

It was raining hard and noisily that morning. Edith heard and physically felt every raindrop hit the roof, and she was a mess, completely shell-shocked and still shaking. It was as though she had gone through war combat, and she looked like a walking corpse. The heavy raindrops pounded on the dorm's roof and the rain's noise pounded inside of Edith's ears and inside of her head like a sledgehammer. That was when Edith began to perceive that she was possibly going insane, truly insane.

Edith knew that the heavy raindrops should not cause her physical pain, especially in her head, but they did. She instantly came to the logical conclusion that her problem actually was psychosomatic because of her treatment in the prison hole, and she horribly missed her children. She missed them so much that the pain of their rejection was far too great for her to withstand.

She knew the pain in her heart and head was the result, and that pain did not let up as the heavy raindrops started igniting flashes of moments from her past.

Edith shook her head back and forth as other inmates in prison with her looked on in concern and a little fear of what the old woman may do to them in their sleep. Like times long ago when she lay in bed with her now dead husband, Edith tried to drum up happy thoughts. The thoughts that resurfaced in her mind were the last time she and her husband were in bed together. Ignorantly she believed now, she foolishly and lovingly tried to forgive him and cleanse her own soul with love. Their old love was real love and lustful bliss that became a horror show that she tried to save, but now she was determined to wash it all away and get closer to God.

These were memories she had locked away safely in a room that was in the back of the bottom of her mind.

Now those thoughts painfully played in her head over, and over again. Sadly, these same old evil memories placed her right now in prison in her old age, and Edith became just as scared now as she was long ago when she realized the truth of her situation.

With all her might, Edith drew on what little strength she had left and the little sanity she possessed and tried to suppress the negative, evil thoughts into positive energy, but she could not fully control her mind and heart, for the hate for her dead husband was too great. Suddenly, and I mean suddenly, and for a brief moment, Edith seemed to have control over herself, then she felt wetness between her legs. Horribly she understood it was the beginning of an orgasm, and she began to believe that it was the same one from that day long ago. No, it was the actual beginnings of the end of that ancient, powerful climax, one she had remembered getting from Al, her dead husband, on their last happy sexual encounter. Sadly, Edith knew that her mind was out of control; insanity was the word of the day.

Edith could smell Al's cheap old spice cologne that she hated, but it smelt wonderful on Al, and it made her wetter. What was happening to her was supremely fantastic, pure joy and unforgettable bliss, and she hated it. Edith hated him and his cheap cologne that fueled her lust. Edith hated her own mind, and unfortunately, the more she fought its erotic pull from the past, the wetter she became between her legs. She was too old for this, or was she? Hell no, she wasn’t too old for sex, and the fact that society said old people should not be sexual drove her onward against the world. She could not kill her husband again, so she would blame the world, and she forgot about the hate she felt for her husband, just for this moment.

The orgasm that manifested itself was so strong that Edith almost passed out after climaxing. In that moment in prison, she had to force herself to face the fact that she was a broken thing. She was old, scary thin, and possibly insane and horny. What a picture, Edith thought.

The pain in her head and the climax between her legs did not come from a need for comfort, sex, or guilt of her possible perceived past crimes. She knew this. It came from the need to see her children, not the need of a dead man she hated but could not shake. Still, she could not truly understand completely what was happening to her. Everything was made more intense by the pounding raindrops that were falling on the roof and the sound they made, which painfully pounded in her head. Edith hated herself for being so weak and confused. Her thoughts and actions were insanity more likely, she thought, but it couldn’t be because she was consciously