The Colonel

By Natalie Edwards

Waimea Bay, North Shore, Oahu. The night sea rages in a Paso Doble wrought from love and war. Light and darkness. Good and evil.

Lilly Rose has waited all day with zealous determination to glimpse her angel on the horizon and up close. So she dives into the alchemy of a typhoon-rattled sea to find one Soon rip currents claim her as the deep sea pulls her under its abyss.

Overhead, Colonel Skye Worthy soars with his army of angels on this night of reckoning, sent to battle The Raven and emit the light of Zion. But when he sees a light under the sea unexpectedly, he halts his direction and dives into the deep. It’s a divine collision. An angel and a human. Light on light. A moment Skye and Lilly Rose will never forget.

Do you want to see the angels?

Love finds you when light encroaches upon the darkness.

In THE COLONEL, divine collisions orchestrate The King’s love unfurled on the earth to shine His light and defeat The Raven. New Zion is coming. Eternity will reign in endless goodness and perfect love. But every angel and every person must decide whom they want to follow: The King or The Raven. The dueling paradigms of Earth and Heaven paint the backdrop of a love story between Lilly and Skye where light shines, love rises, redemption prevails, and life ignites from The King who seeks to engender a world without evil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Oct 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781489743848

Natalie Edwards

Natalie Edwards is founder of Life and God Ministries. She holds a Master of Arts in Christian Education degree from Dallas Theological Seminary and revels in sunsets of the ethereal.

Book preview

cover.jpg

THE

COLONEL

Natalie Edwards

Copyright © 2022 Natalie Edwards.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

LifeRich Publishing is a registered trademark of The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.

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views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Cover Graphics/Art Credit: Natalie Edwards

Scripture taken from The Holy Bible, The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English

Standard Version®). ESV® Permanent Text Edition® (2016). Copyright © 2001

by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. The ESV® text has

been reproduced in cooperation with and by permission of Good News Publishers.

Unauthorized reproduction of this publication is prohibited. All rights reserved.

Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL

VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica,

Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

reference : http://www.biblica.com/en-us/about-us/terms-of-use/

ISBN: 978-1-4897-4383-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-4382-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-4384-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022917754

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 10/05/2022

Contents

1     Lilly

2     Skye

3     Lilly

4     Skye

5     Lilly

6     Skye

7     Lilly

8     Skye

9     Lilly

10   Skye

11   Lilly

12   Skye

13   Lilly

14   Skye

15   Lilly

16   Skye

17   Lilly

18   Skye

19   Lilly

20   Skye

21   Lilly

22   Skye

23   Lilly

24   Skye

25   Lilly

26   Skye

27   Lilly

For Edith Shirley

my Mema, my bright light, my angel of unconditional love

1

Lilly

dance with me fondly

dance with me softly

dance with me

dawning

the starlight enthralling

where I saw him

for the first time

The ocean dances in the sunlight like a ballerina in silk. Ribbons of radiance flow from the Heavens where the light shines. Watch intently and you’ll see her… the angel who walks upon the water like a prima ballerina. Here I wait for mine, camped out at Waimea Bay on the north shore of Oahu’s glory. I want an encounter with the divine. An encounter with my angel. Heaven, come and invade every aspect of my existence.

Here the ocean reflects its ethereal existence as the light scintillates on the glittering waves like opal gems onto the aqua beneath. Its reflection reminds me the spiritual realm is closer than we think. Heaven and its King is only a sunbeam away. My heart beckons the light to come and pierce the clouds and rend the sky. Angels do that when they dawn upon the earth.

You ready, Lilly Rose? The voice of Jenna Houston, my best friend, echoes in the ocean breeze. She rises, stretches her arms to the sky, and adjusts her red bikini top.

Her reminder alerts me it is necessary for my cozy, planted feet to relocate to bus’s loading zone where Silverton High’s class will depart at 4:30pm. Is it time already?

Just a few more minutes! I exclaim with bright eyes.

I can’t leave yet…

My angel is waiting for me.

I fold back into the sand and outstretch my arms to make a snow angel in the sand like I’m in a wintry blizzard. My skin feels the massage of its grainy texture. Here the elements are free for the rejuvenation of my hands and feet. Overhead the sun blazes brightly through the clouds and my eyes enjoy the fusion of its brilliant, fluorescent rays. I wonder what it would taste like if I collided with its aura…

Your skin is glowing, my love, Jenna winks over her shoulder as she grooms her hair bouncing in the wind.

And so are you, my bronzing beauty, I say as I look up at her from the sand.

Conversations about the male gender and Jenna’s Would You Rather game are now ending. Thank goodness. I never liked that game. Nor do I enjoy the weight of my naivety rolling like an avalanche when she asks me what I have and have not done.

Okay, Lilly! Before we go… one last question. Jenna throws her hands in the air and brings one back to her chin with an inquisitive look on her face. I know what that means. This is when her sarcasm and wit land at an all-time peak for the day.

Would you rather date a tattoo artist who asks you to needle your name on his thigh while he prunes your garden? Or marry a gardener who wants to mark you every night making love in the rose bushes? she asks.

Jenna! I shoot straight up. I cover my eyes to erase the mental image. Then I realize closing my eyes won’t erase it. I open my eyes to the gracious sunlight above and wait for my angel to dazzle with light on the turquoise waters.

What! She shrugs her bronzing shoulders with a playful grin. It’s our last question. I have had to end on a high note. You know me.

Your mind is an ocean of metaphors, Jenna, I say with surrender. She likes to press my buttons in this game, which leaves very little room for victory without a shriek or two.

Jenna paints her lips with her rum-punch lip color, glances at me with her twinkling eyes of serendipity, and tiptoes over to me.

She bends down gently and caresses my face with her red, manicured nails. Her nails are flawless. I look at mine coated in rosy, pink that she helped me paint last night in the hotel room. These are the same nails we first painted together when we were eight years old and snacked on pomegranates, when boys and games like "Would You Rather" were not a topic of discussion.

Don’t worry, my Rose of Sharon... she says gently. I won’t let anyone touch your innocence.

She rises and touches her arms now heated from the sunlight. I return my gaze to the sun where I am reminded euphoria is found in the sky. I melt into its blissful oasis.

Beep! Beep!

The sound of the bus interrupts my train of thought and I look over the sandy shore to the parking lot where our departure beckons.

It’s time to go, Lilly! Jenna says.

I can’t go yet! My angel is close, Jenna. The sun is still high above the ocean, dazzling bright where the angels shine, and I won’t leave until I’ve seen my witnessed my divine collision.

I wrap my sun-kissed arms around my chest, look into the sunlight, and lie back into the sand that molds my body like a soft cradle of violets. I outstretch my arms to feel the blanket of the shore’s sand. Nestled on the sandy beach of Waimea Bay, I hear the melody of ocean waves rolling in like a gentle violin. They carol like a sonnet, and I want more of the poetic synesthesia.

Angel? Jenna asks with curiosity.

Yes. Angel, I say with expectation and eyes facing upward.

My gaze scans the outline of the few clouds scattered across the bright blue sky as I lie on the body-forming sand and look up at the sky hosting Heaven. Light dazzles in every shade like a kaleidoscope of luminescence from this point of view. I look over at her from the 90-degree angle as the ocean slants into a view of a river without gravity. I like to see the world from every angle. Like Heaven sees us. All of us.

I want to see my angel, Jenna, I say with expectancy.

You’re looking at one, my love, Jenna says. She winks at me with her luscious eyelashes as she wraps her floral pink towel around her red bikini.

I must confess I knew you were one of Charlie’s angels, I say.

Did you now? My secret is out! Jenna retorts with playfulness. I stay parallel with the sand and watch as she folds a white tank top into the pineapple-patterned beach bag. Particles of sand mix in with the packing of books and garments. It’s like that by the sea. You leave but you take a part of it with you every time. Like the sand and hibiscus flower petals nestled in the crevices of beach bags and ponytails. The ocean stays with you. I want the ocean to stay with me. To behold it. To belong to it.

And I must confess, my Lilly… you are far too worthy to belong to anybody, she says. Then she bends down and presses her lips to my forehead. I can feel the imprint of her rum-punch gloss on my skin. She looks at me with her maternal look. Her loving look. My green eyes look back with gratitude for the nurturing.

I’m glad we’re friends, Jenna. Her sultry comedy and inappropriate Would You Rather games may challenge my patience at times, but she’s loyal.

"Remember, Lilly! Our pact. No boys. Only men, she asserts with confidence. She rises and places her sunglasses atop her head, shakes out her ocean-kissed brunette locks, and unveils her bombshell eyes of toffee caramel. Men like to be smitten. Boys only want to be bitten in order to want you. No time for that game."

I’ve never played that game.

Jenna has.

Her boyfriends would comprise a compelling list of Forbes Top 20 Men to Sleep With.

He’s looking at you, she’ll tell me when I don’t want to notice. Flirtation is your forte. Your eyes are your lovemaking. Steer him where you want him to go. No! I tell her. I mean… sorry, I just… I don’t want to, I say. I’m not you, Jenna. I don’t want to seduce him. It’s the truth. I know, my love, she tells me. That’s why you’re my Rose of Sharon.

Rose of Sharon, she calls me.

I like it when she calls me that.

My only aversion to the epithet is when she uses it to enlighten me on the art of attaining a "man of stature," as she calls it. I’d rather bury my eyes in my poetry books and imagine the fairy tales playing out in 10,000 leagues under the sea. That brings me back to my angel sighting. Focus, Lilly. The angel could appear any moment now in the debut of its glorious Viennese Waltz of ocean grandeur. I shift my gaze to the horizon where angels dance whimsically in the light.

Beep! Beep!

Jenna tosses the pineapple-patterned beach bag over her shoulder at the sound of our bus’s second and final departure signal.

I’m gonna head out! You coming? she asks.

I sit up and lean forward to breathe in the saltwater aroma still lingering. Hums of rushing waves sound across the seashore. Tide is rising. I know my angel is waiting for me. I can feel it. I can’t go yet...

I’ll meet you later, I look over to her and shout through the sounds of ocean currents. To leave now would render me empty of a cosmic euphoria summoning me to its light, I profess as I lift my arms to the sky as the wind inspires the daydreaming.

My little poet, you, Jenna says playfully. Now that pineapple juice smoothie I made this morning… that was euphoric.

Jenna! Don’t ruin the angel invocations, I declare as I smirk over at her. She steps closer to me, stoops down, and grazes my hair with her fingers.

I know you want to see the angels, my little rose. Smiling at me tenderly she shifts her gaze into the ocean. The same ocean where the sun will bleed like blushing passionfruit onto the horizon at sunset and starlight will shimmer like sapphires at midnight for the moon. She turns back to me. Wait for them. She winks at me with a smile of sincerity, rises to stand, and swings the beach bag over her shoulder. She starts walking. I’ll see you there, okay? Don’t worry, I’ll cover for you!

I won’t be long! Just a few more hours until the sunlight kisses the island seascape of lavender peaches.

Beep! Beep!

Last call! All aboard! A voice that sounds like Dr. Konner, our AP Literature teacher and Senior class chaperone, shouts from the bus. I look over and can’t see the faces, but I can hear chatter gathering for the departure. I close my eyes and wait for the skies to split open like a symphony orchestra.

Oh, Lilly! Jenna quickly turns back around. Remember the Navy Seals will be at dinner tonight for the presentation!

I think you can manage a fleet of seals without me, I remind her.

But I like it when you’re with me. Besides, you need a soldier to kiss those lovely eyelashes, my little rose. I can find you a soldier. A virtuous soldier. One who likes to say a prayer before he–

Jenna! I retort.

Okay, Lil! She throws her hands in the air and starts walking backward. I’m going! Don’t stay out too late okay!?"

I smile and wave. Jenna runs up the sandy beach to the bus’s loading zone. The winds churn swiftly in a cyclonic funnel of sand and seashell dust. Here I want the invasion of angelic presence to collide with me and come back to me. Heaven, dazzle for me.

I imagine the sky’s descent on my essence where the world metamorphosizes into its new and perfect dwelling place. I imagine an angel’s descent. Then my ascent into eternal Heaven where eternity whisks me away into the sapphire blue light of infinite creation.

Send the rain. Send passion. Send love notes. Send the invasion of the light.

2

Skye

Love notes. The finest of King Solomon’s compilations. My eyes scan the inscriptions anytime my wings rest from flying and my soul inclines to revel in the written words of old. It’s not old, really. These words are timeless. Classic. Ageless and immortal. These inscriptions will last forever and so will I.

Here underneath the cherry tree blossoms in The Rose Garden, I reminisce on the inception of the universe where I told the light to part from night. Where I told the seas to indwell the earth’s orb. Where I told the birds to fly, and the mammals to climb the earth’s mountains and roam the land. My Father was there. He gave me hands of creative artistry to fashion the world with His collaboration.

Love and war is a collaboration. Isn’t it? A divine delicacy of seeking the right aim. The right purpose. Empowering life remains my highest purpose. I don’t like to war, actually. I like to defend and protect. My virtue arises in the friction of evil and good colliding for the good of Zion. It is here, eternal light combusts in the wake. My wings rise to keep out any invader that tries to shake the safety of my Heavenly abode. To shield what I love from the qualms of darkness.

Colonel Worthy! A voice resounds in my spirit. Here is where my thoughts connect me to The King.

Yes, Father? I ask.

I need to see you in the Throne Room, He echoes.

My Father’s Spirit beckons me. Goodbye for now my ardent tales of lover’s love and affectionate passion. These writings strike the chord of the human heart my Father made to beat with vibrant life. Love is their gift, and humans were made to experience it. The beauty of love and desire. It mirrors my Father’s zeal for His people. For the world we created. For the destiny of oneness to consummate the earth with Zion forever. And one day, we will all be one.

I tuck the writings into my wings and lift up over the pastel-colored roses of peony pink and crimson red. My wings outstretch with white light and descend fiercely with golden rays that reflect off the gold inlaid at the border of my feather’s arrangement. I fly towards the Throne room just beyond the river by The Tree of Life.

As I soar through the Heavens, Zion radiates like a technicolor palace of towering marble mansions and jeweled streets where the river by the Tree of Life streams like serenity playing a lullaby. Sparkles of blue reflect off the waters as I pass by. I like to think there by the water when it’s just me and my thoughts. My and my poetry. Me and my Father’s soul orchestrating what we have in mind for the earth below.

We always think about them. Our people on the earth. But only My Father alone knows every heart and every moment in time destined for the universe. I delight to defer to Him.

My eyes locate the Throne Room by the high ivory pillars as I soar towards the towering gold palace. Here is where the seraphim and angels circle in reverence of my Father and sing "holy holy holy" is the Lord without ceasing. The King is glorious in His Throne Room, as He is anywhere His presence touches down.

My wings recline as I lower my feet to the ground at the entrance marked with gold. I enter swiftly and Zeal greets me at the door.

Good evening, Colonel Worthy! He says.

Good to see you, Zeal, I reply and place a firm hand on his shoulder. Then I move quickly into the throne room of glassy foundations laid with sapphires.

Skye! My Father’s voice shouts. Come closer, My son. The sound billows like a thunderous roar of ocean waves crashing in cadence. The Throne Room echoes like a canyon of red rock in booming detonation.

My heart pounds with honored reverence when I enter into the Throne Room where The King resides, bedecked in rubies and sapphires. His glory deserves it, and I will never withhold His due honor. The angels know how to honor The King. Above me, the angels fly in succinct formation like a pageantry of doves and butterflies heralding Spring. My wings perk up at the sound, like they always do when they hear the regal sound of My Father’s majesty. Angels were designed to glory in His light.

I move closer to The King and gaze at my Father’s glowing light and bend down to kneel before Him. I signal my right guard and my left guard, Captain Leafe and Captain Strength, to rest at ease at the back perimeter of the room as The King speaks. Their wings recline.

Yes, my King. I bow my knee on the sapphire floor and see the King’s garden of honeysuckles and orchids blooming with vibrancy under the translucence of its foundation. One of my favorite aspects of the Throne Room. Gardens indwell His house, heart, and soul.

The Raven is gaining territory and sending droves of his birds into the southeast region of the Pacific. I need to send you. I need to send your flyers, He says.

How many, my King? I ask.

As many as it takes.

Is it The Raven again? Surely, he hasn’t come back for another war after the First Revolt. He thought he had us. But Zion cannot be overcome.

I only need a few. The ravens are many, but their flyers are weak, I assert with confidence.

I concur, Colonel. You’ve always been my top warrior. I trust your decision. You’ll take Captain Leafe with you. He’ll be your right guard, He answers.

Yes, my King, I say in reverence.

The angel armies will be given a briefing with the captains, and you’ll be on your way by nightfall, He concludes and rises to His feet.

I rise in tandem, and His glory shakes the foundations of the Throne Room’s floor. He does that every time He moves. The King holds a cosmic connection to every element of existence and His power can send the mountains rolling and the seas surging. I still feel my feet tremble when He stands, and I never lose the insatiable longing for more of His glory to fall.

May Zion shine victorious, my King!

We always do, My Father says confidently. The Throne Room is adjourned!

Angels hover along the flanks to my right and left and all around like a circular halo in the grandiose Throne Room of The King on High. The seraphim float overhead singing "holy holy holy" in a thunderous roar to The King as the River of Life surges through the palace and outward into the courts of Zion. I lift my feet to exit and ponder my strategy for the mission.

We will need to assemble a strong V with conditioned flyers at the front and astute eyes at the tail end who can sense the presence of The Raven. We will need to confront his fleet head-on to ensure the highest potential for victory and bring our angels home safely. I hover towards the high ivory pillars where the Garden of the Violets blooms outside the ivory pillars.

Skye! The King calls my attention again. I halt in motion. His voice resonates like an avalanche rushing down the mountains of His Everest, which He crafted with His own hands.

I turn around.

He walks towards me with a rattling presence of power. The floor quakes as His footprints grow closer and shake the foundations of the glassy floor of sapphire where royalty cloaks the Throne Room of His majesty on display.

Yes, Father? I ask.

He comes close and places His right hand on my head. At the touch of the collision, His presence consumes me like an overpowering energy.

Let Me see your eyes, son, He echoes. His voice reverberates calmly. It’s an intimate tone when He calls me son. He does that when it’s only me and Him. To be called His son remains the highest honor. An honor Solomon penned with wisdom at the revelation of The King’s grandeur.

Yes, my King, I answer.

I look up to behold Him. Blue eyes find me in the Throne Room. Sapphire blue eyes. His eyes burn into me fiercely. Majesty overwhelms me as the radiance of luminescence shines deep into my optical nerves and retina, burning a glory only The King can exude.

It should be painful to look upon the fire found in The King’s eyes. But my eyes are not burning. Instead, my eyes are held captive to the light.

Your eyes will burn with fire now, My son, He voice resounds loudly. Fire of sapphire. Where the light once shown from their radiance, fire will now enhance their glory! His eyes remain steadfast on mine as His hand rests on my shoulder.

I feel a tingling sensation ignite inside my eyes, generating beams of blue light glows. I hold up my hands and see the emission of blue fiery light upon them now. The King’s light. He gave me His light. His own eyes of flaming fire. My heart beats faster as I breathe in the magnitude of this moment.

Father! I shout. Thank you… I want to make You proud! Enflame with Your sapphire light. Love’s light. Passion’s light. That I may captivate the world to You, my King.

You already have, son, He says. He knows my thoughts. He always does. He reads me.

He looks at me tenderly now and strokes my hair with His right hand. The right hand of power that outstretched the stars and the galaxies.

I promise you, Father. The Raven will not overtake us. I’ll find him and show him why his betrayal cannot stand! I assert with resolve.

The Raven already deceived millions of angels at the First Revolt, many of whom were my friends and confidantes. I vowed to never turn my back on my Father. Not for any amount of power nor any measure of prestige. The King carries my allegiance. Now The Raven will pay for breaking his.

There is a time for vengeance, Skye. Now, the objective is this: shine the light of Zion on the earth, He reminds me.

What if he ceases to relent? What if the earth starts to erode? I shout. I won’t let The Raven stir another uproar.

The Raven has been given a short leash to fly on the earth. He knows this. He will do everything he can to fight against us and prolong his power. But there is nothing he can do to usurp Me nor overtake Zion, My Father reminds me.

Blast!

Lightning strikes over the Seat of The King where the seraphim fly around the Throne. The seraphim have six wings. Two that cover their eyes because of the majestic radiance of My Father, two that cover their feet in reverence, and two that carry in flight with holy essence to hover above The Throne. They glow unceasingly from holiness given them from glory of The King. His light gives immortality.

Show them My light, He echoes.

I carry His eyes now in deeper force and I will show them His light. His supremacy. His authority. His Kingdom reigns over the universe, despite the calamity prevailing hearts on Earth now that The Raven soars.

Yes, my King. His order is my honor.

Skye, He whispers. My Father bends down to touch my cheek with hands of valor that hung the stars and parted the waters. I feel His immortality when He touches me. It reminds me I carry the same essence. I love you because you are My very own.

I won’t forget it, Father, I say.

His eyes of flaming fire blaze into mine once again as He rises to stand. He smiles with lovingkindness in His eyes, turns around, and walks back to the Throne as the floor shakes with every footstep of The King who rules the universe.

My heart sparks as divine electricity courses through my being. His Spirit connects with mine, and He will enlighten me of all I need to know for the mission ahead. We are one: My Father and me. His Spirit is the life source that carries every angel into the atmosphere and transcends the Heavens of Zion into the earth below.

I stand up and regain my equilibrium as the power of The King consumes me with a higher threshold of sapphire light. His glorious light. His penetrative light. To show the souls on Earth that there is a higher King reigning. A King who loves them and seeks to renew the face of the earth. Provoked to battle for the good of Earth and Zion, I turn to hover out of the Throne Room and soar towards The Eagle’s Pad.

Fly like an eagle, son! He echoes.

I’ll make you proud, Father. I exit through the ivory pillars leading into the courtyard of Zion’s palace. With haste, I cross over the blossoming fruits of strawberry, guava, mango, and passionfruit by the Tree of Life. The river runs freely here and flows like a cerulean lullaby that plays gently when you soar above. Technicolor light spins in radiant hues around the landscape of Zion and my eyes brighten at the light of its potent environment. I fly ahead and reach the meadows where the lilies blossom and ascend into the hills towards The Rose Garden blooming near The Eagle’s Pad.

I fly higher. My eyes glimpse the light of Zion shining over The Eagle’s Pad where angels soar. Here is where we will ascend for take-off.

My Father has already sent word to Captain Leafe to assemble the flyers for a briefing on the mission at hand. Now, they await my command. When I arrive, we will be ready to descend into Earth, emit the light of Zion, and cast out every shroud of darkness spread by The Raven.

I soar upward and land on the velvet grass of The Eagle’s Pad. My eyes scan the angel armies who stand strong with determination. They glow fiercely, as they were designed to, with an aura emitting the light of glory from The King who formed them.

Captain Leafe! Assemble the V in formation for flight! We’re ready for take-off! I command.

Yes sir, Colonel Worthy! Captain Leafe shouts. He lifts off the grass and prepares to direct. Zion’s Angels! Align in formation!

I gaze over their white light glowing against the backdrop of a starry celestial Heaven. As the earth rotates, the sunlight sustaining it will shift onto the eastern hemisphere. Nighttime will surface once we transcend Earth’s atmosphere over the coordinates of Oahu. We will fly into the dark, but my flyers are skilled to fly in every condition.

My wings rise and I hover over to the front of the V and take my position as Commander. Here is where they need me, and I need them. Every pair of wings advances our mission unto victory. Now the tension between good and evil has never been higher. The necessity to fight for the sight of all people to see The King has never been more crucial. Even so, I am confident they are ready no matter what they may incur, just as my Father trusts in me. I arrive at the front of the V formation at the edge of The Eagle’s Pad, land my feet, and look over the angel armies with confident determination. They glow fiercely in formation. Like warriors ready to ascend the highest hill and claim the deepest seas. We are ready. Now, every eye is on me.

Angels! My voice echoes. Sound off!

Yes, Colonel Worthy! The angels resound succinctly. For Zion! We are loyal to Zion! They shout. Their voices resound with a bold yet calming cadence like roaring waterfalls in turquoise waters.

You fly for The King tonight! I have no need to remind you of the great rift the Heavens endured at the rebellion of The Raven! Nor have I any need for anyone who sides with his regime! If any angel is unwilling to fly according to the mission of The King, now is the time to exit! I look to Captain Leafe now landing at my left side. I wait for his nod to affirm The King has surveyed the flyers from His Throne and has found none to be insolent.

The King grants access for take-off! Captain Leafe nods and affirms. Thank goodness. Too many battles have been fought from the toxicity of broken allegiance. Now I need theirs and they need mine. I stand watch over my army of angels with commendable gratitude. This is much needed in this hour of The Raven’s rebellion where angels have been coerced to revolt against The King.

The King believes in you! I believe in you! Your mission this day: Emit the light of The King! I resound. You will follow my lead into the airspace of Oahu!

Sir, yes sir! They angels resound.

We’re ready, Captain, I signal to Captain Leafe to prepare for take-off.

Yes, Colonel Worthy! Captain Leafe lifts to herald his position at the right flank.

At my count! We lift off for flight! I shout.

Yes, Colonel Worthy! They sound off in an organized chant. All of Zion can hear the sound. Silver white wings tower in succinct, symmetrical alignment. Bright light still shines. Good still persists in this battle of good and evil encroaching upon the earth. We will make you proud, Father.

Three. Two. One. Soar! I lift off and fly into the stars.

3

Lilly

Lightning flashes in the sunset like filagree of embroidered gold. Raspberry red merges with blood-orange hues like a bonfire in the woods of tall pines trees. Dark clouds set in slowly as the sun waves goodbye and says hello to the moon rising in a sky of churning symphonies.

Waimea Bay feels different now than it did hours ago when I waved goodbye to Jenna. Teal blue waves roll in faster and burst the frothy saltwater upon the shore like a bottle of bubbly champagne. The sea breeze gusts with dramatic force like it does when a tropical storm is brewing. My brunette locks, still wettened from the ocean water, graze against my bare shoulders and swirl upwards into the whirlwind.

Thunder!

The sky wants to rage.

Any moment now water droplets will drift into the white sand, softly and rhythmically, and then rain down like confetti on New Year’s Day. My eyes gaze into the sun as it plays hide and seek behind a symphony of clouds. Angels, where are you? I close my eyes to imagine their appearance.

During the past few hours alone on the shore, the inscriptions of Solomon have filled my eyesight. Proverbs and love songs. Wisdom sayings and insights. Now as thunder roars, I close the book to protect its pages from the ensuing water droplets.

I open my eyes and scan the shoreline.

Every umbrella on the beach is gone now. Those who know the spot and nestled up and down the quaint bay of Waimea Bay earlier today have all retreated.

I swivel my head around to stare into the faint edge of the curb where the bus retrieved my classmates. It’s long gone now. No chance remains to redirect my course. The temptation stands to give in and make my way back to The Outrigger. Or should I find another spot? Maybe I should find another spot. Maybe I should give up and catch a taxi back to The Outrigger. But I haven’t seen my angel yet...

Wait, Lilly. Wait for your angel.

I keep my feet planted in the sand and slightly move them closer to my core. I wrap my arms tightly around myself as I breathe in the ocean-made scent of the tropical gale. The aroma smells of wet clay and salty caramel dancing the Viennese Waltz, where the tension of the dance intensifies like clouds foxtrotting on the glassy sea.

The musicality of the seaside symphony reels me in, and I lift my face to absorb the concerto. Its melody strikes like Chellos clashing with drums and grows louder as the tide rises. The cool water of saltwater froth brushes my feet and I notice the corners of my baby blue towel damp from the encroachment. I pull my sweatshirt over me like a blanket of velvet and pull my legs into my chest as the wind quickens.

Thunder!

The seas rattle in reaction to the sound. Waves break. Saltwater chops. The alchemy of its passion demands the waves rise and fall. Twirl and swirl. Combust and ignite. To show off their zeal like a magical cyclone of royalty ascending from Atlantis. I keep my eyes fixed steadily on the horizon in front of me. Daydreaming. Envisioning. Unmoved by the tropical storm unfurling. I can’t leave yet no matter how the rain falls. Jenna is going to hear about my angel sighting when I see her in the morning. Angels, where are you? Dance for me…

My green eyes close and I recall a recurrent dream I had as a child. A giant tidal wave as high as the El Capitan wall of Yosemite rises in the sky and floats like gravity itself has frozen. It should consume me and drown me, but it doesn’t. Its waves stand tall. Its molecules pause like a puppet with strings in the hands of God. He turns the wave wherever He wishes, and it follows because it listens to the Spirit of The King.

There is always more to see by the Spirit, my Mema tells me. My spirit longs to see what lies beyond.

What does your spirit long to see? I once asked Jenna in a game of 21 Questions.

Passion, she told me.

I wish she were here to see the passion of the cosmic ocean raging.

Strike!

Lightning flashes with another thud of thunder as loud as a steam engine. Ocean waves stir fiercely, invigorated by the storm’s falsetto of lyrical poetry like sea urchins stricken with a longing to break free from the clutch of the deep in a boisterous orchestra rendition of Tchaikovsky.

I stand up to behold its glory. Sand cascades off my legs in the wind. A light flickers in the distance as the sky falls dark like the sky of a new moon. Is it my angel? My heart leaps at the thought of it.

Lightning! Strike!

I shake off my towel from my body and drop it on the sand beside the specks of raindrops and my teal, blue cover-up. I stand at the edge of the steep incline where the shore descends into the sea. This is the moment of quick decision.

Be careful of rip currents! I hear Dr. Konner’s lectures in my head. Don’t swim alone! Jenna would say. Should I? Swim alone?

Rain pours. Lightning flashes. If I want to see my angel I must go where I’ve never gone before. Do what I’ve never done. Never have I ever