Abel and the Twelve Keys of Israel: The Throne of Your Heart

By Chelsea Thompson and Lindsay Thompson

Nosol has entered a new presidency era, but the demands for the key to be returned has not changed. Will this president be successful for the High Council in retrieving the key, or will it remain in America with House Mica? On the other side of the world, Abel realizes although he has several keys in his possession while dissecting Dans past, he is no further in discovering what the keys represent, let alone deciphering the complicated secret life of Dans. An unexpected invitation thrusts Abel back into his childhood at the orphanage about his lack of adoption, and he still feels some residual animosity. Nevertheless, Abel is given an opportunity to be adopted, but will he accept?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685705718

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Protégé

Today was a long day. I tried to hide my tiredness because I didn’t know how to feel at the moment. I didn’t get anything from the car accident because Blue was old. I barely received $1,000 from my insurance claim, which went to Mr. Worthington, whom I hit and didn’t sue, but I had to kick in the rest to get his new car fixed. Plus, my insurance rate went up, I was told after my phone call with my agent ended some minutes ago. He had advised that I should keep my insurance as I search for a new car.

Sarai, I’ve been driving you and did not think about insurance, how have we not been pulled over by now? I asked Sarai.

Abel, I am insured through Dans. Don’t worry about it, Sarai responded.

Okay, I won’t. But…um…am I covered by Dans insurance or something? Should I keep my insurance like the agent said? Yes or no? My bank account looks hit, Sarai, I stated.

Abel, I am fully covered for identification purposes. If you ever need it, it is in the glove box, Sarai affirmed.

Okay, I know this is a random question. Do you know how I can make some extra cash, because the school’s financial aid just contacted me, and I won’t receive my loans until school starts, which is another month. The amount I have to pay out, I’ll have to either borrow more or file bankruptcy, I complained.

Abel, why not get another job? Sarai asked.

How and where? I work full-time. I’m also going to school full-time, remember? I groaned.

Ask your friends, Abel. Sarai suggested.

Ask my friends? What is she talkin’ about? I still owe Mist $500 from the hospital. I need to set some money aside to make sure I give back to her in something from my next check. I can give Mr. Worthington $5,000 by the end of next month from my student loans if I take out more and he waits to be paid. I don’t know why I even asked a car.

Er had texted me while at work with an address to meet right after work at 6:00 p.m. I heard Sarai say destination on right as I slowed down on the road. I pulled into an entryway. I noticed it was a closed building with a faded dragon on the wall. I think it was a karate school.

I never heard of this place, but why would I? I stopped almost two years ago from doing stuff like this.

I saw there was more parking behind the building instead of the six spots off the road. I turned left to situate myself there.

Sarai, call Er, I requested.

I leaned into my seat as the dial tone was cut off and disconnected.

How am I supposed to know he’s here?

In front of me was a door, but it looked like the back door because it was a storm door. I saw the door move forward a little.

Did I see that? I blinked my eyes hard to make sure. It didn’t look open, but it could be.

Stop, I said, and Sarai shut off. I placed the keys in my pocket as I opened the car door to get out. I walked slowly, turning my head both ways to see if anyone could see me doing this. I pulled on the cold steel handle, and it opened toward me.

I didn’t see anything as I entered the building. Where is the light switch? I grazed my fingers along the right-hand side of the wall quickly before the door shut behind me. Yet out of nowhere, I felt a foot to my left knee. I hit the ground but was able to block the next kick. I did a side sweep and watched the outline of a person divert my move.

The lights were turned on when the door fully closed behind me. I was able to stand and face my opponent. I looked Er into his eyes and asked, Are you trying to injure me?

Er, with a slight attitude, said, You’re using the same moves, from when we met. You don’t have a different style?

Er lunged forward with a fist, and I blocked it but was unable to block his kick to my stomach. The force pushed me back into a small dummy that was laid against the wall. I moved as I saw a high kick almost connect with my face. I grabbed Er’s ankle and went to twist the lower half of his leg, but he blocked it with an open fist move to my neck.

I choked but was able to defend myself against another attack by moving away from the wall to get better balance. I moved into the center of the room and squared up to Er to ask, Can you at least let me change clothes? I just got off work.

Why? Will you be able to change clothes if you met me in the street? Er stated, preparing to make another move.

This is supposed to be a training session or lesson, right? I asked as I blocked his double punches.

He had my wrists locked in his grasp when he responded, Are you sure of what a lesson is? Can you see what I am teaching you?

I was not able to respond since he punched me in the throat this time, and when I felt my body go forward, he kneed me in the stomach again, causing me to have nausea. I need to move, or I am going to be seriously injured.

I blocked his next move and swung one of my legs, causing contact with the side of Er’s body. It hit, but he, in turn, grabbed my ankle and almost broke my lower leg with his elbow. I had to use my other leg just to stop him from breaking the leg he was holding. He’s not Dans. I’m going to have to fight him.

I stood up ready for Er’s next move, and he glared at me. I ran at him full force this time. He wanted to know why Dans chose me. I’m going to show him.

The fight lasted a whole two hours. It was silent until Er stopped himself from mashing his foot into my face. I was lying on the ground and was holding his foot with both my hands, while trying to stop his other foot from kicking me again in my chest. His facial expressions were unreadable.

He moved his foot from my head and spoke, Abel, you are going to die if you continue. If you cannot stop me, then how can you stop someone else from killing you?

I’ve stopped my friend from being abducted and didn’t get killed the first night we met. Why would I die now? I said as I picked myself up off the floor.

The blood from my lip was dripping with each word I said.

How you survived this long is astounding. It had to be luck on your side those days your friends needed you. Right now, all I see is a petulant child who is ignorant, conceited, and nothing worth fretting over, Er said as he looked me over.

I’m not a child. I am not ignorant. I have worth. I seethed at him as I watched him walk towards the door I entered.

Hey! I am talking to you, I said as I ran up to him, this time attempting to grab him and punch him in the face.

As I approached, he swiftly dodged my blow, but his fist was buried into my stomach, and I felt small amounts of vomit come into my throat. I swallowed the vomit and was on my knees. I lifted my head to see Er staring at me with an annoyed expression on his face.

Abel, I will see you tomorrow for our next session.

He turned away from me, but I grabbed his pant leg. He shook my hand off, but I began to stand to my feet when I said, I can’t. It’s late hours tomorrow at the library.

Fine. The next day, Er said, staring at me for confirmation.

No. I have an event, I lied, still holding my stomach.

Fine. Just give me a day, Abel. It has been a month, and our leads are getting us nowhere. When can you fit me in? Er asked sarcastically.

I’ll call you when I can, I stated. I am so tired of him. This is not a lesson, why am I rescheduling this?

Fine. Make sure it is this week or else I will come find you. If I have to, this lesson will appear mild, Er said firmly.

I walked out alongside him, and he said, You leave first.

I nodded and had Sarai open the doors.

Start. Drive, I stated as I got into the seat.

Er walked out next once I was inside my car. He walked right, and I saw his car appear out of nowhere. Invisibility cars are real? I wondered if Sarai can do the same thing…

He got into his car and drove off quickly, passing me going right. I guess there was another way into the lot from the other side. I followed him, but not that fast, and entered a street which was residential.

This was the neighborhood’s karate school, I see. As I saw a row of houses across the building, I turned left to get back onto the main road and drive on home.

I think I’m crazy to be taking lessons from Er. He stated he wanted to know about what Dans saw in me to entrust this mission to me. Sparring with him is so different than Dans. I had my knee kicked in. He almost broke my wrist, and he fights as if it’s a real fight. He said I didn’t know what he was teaching me. This isn’t teaching.

My phone began to ring, and Sarai stated it was Mist. I did not want to answer at the moment; she didn’t like that I did martial arts club in college and gotten Jameson into it. If I told her about this, she might be more upset, plus I didn’t want to speak to her without officially having paid her back. Jameson, I can call him.

Sarai, decline or text Mist that I am driving, I said.

Okay, Abel, Sarai stated.

Would you like me to read back her response? Sarai asked.

You can do that too. What’s the command? I asked.

The command is Notify, Sarai stated.

Notify, I stated.

Mist states that your car is AI and you can speak and drive, Sarai stated.

Ughh, fine, call Mist, I stated.

Mist picked up on the first ring.

Hello, Abel, are you ignoring me? Mist asked.

No. I’m not ignoring you. Tonight—I mean today was a rough day, I stated.

Work? Mist asked.

It was work, I lied.

And are you continuing the, um, other project? Mist asked.

Project? Oh, she means spy work or whatever this is.

There’s still no leads. But yes and no. Mostly just researching what I have, I lied again.

Okay. Please keep me updated. I can start sending you footage of when I see or seen Er coming into your house, Mist declared.

Umm, how much footage do you have Er coming to my house, ’cause I took his key a month ago, I stated.

I’ve been hiding things in my closet, is Er going in there? I asked.

Yes. Again, I don’t do things halfway. I saw your plant in the closet but nothing else. As far as I can tell, Er was mainly in the kitchen and living room, Mist stated.

I’m going to let you go now, I said.

Hey, wait, you still coming to the poetry night right? Mist asked.

Yes. I’ll be there next Wednesday. You still need to send me the address, I said.

I will. It’ll be in the group chat soon. Night, Mist said.

Night. Bye, I said as I hung up the call.

Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up, I repeated in my head as I tilted my upper body upright to possible help as I drove.

Sarai, call Jameson, I directed.

Calling Jameson, Sarai responded.

Jameson picked up on the third ring. Hey, was thinking about calling you. I need to ask you to do a favor. Since I became mayor, I haven’t been able to get over to the complexes, do you think you can handle it again?

Yes, I can, but I need to get paid this time. I don’t want to mention how broke I am, but do you think you can put me on payroll? I asked hesitantly.

You’re not asking to be on the mayoral payroll, so yes. Do you have an amount you want to be paid? Jameson asked.

You asking me how much I want to be paid? Do employers ask that now? I questioned.

Some do and I am one of them. Jameson stated.

I’m getting paid. Let me ask for $23 an hour, I expressed.

Fine. I’ll send the paperwork tonight and have you on payroll by tomorrow morning. I’ll send your schedule and… Jameson began.

Dang it! Should have asked for $25. He agreed too quickly.

Wait, Jameson, you know this time, you have to cooperate with my real schedule from the library, I interjected.

Abel, welcome to your first step of becoming a workalcoholic. I am fully aware this is a second job. I’ve interviewed and hired you on the spot. Do not let me down friend. Bye, I have to go over notes from a city meeting, Jameson declared.

Night, I said.

I pulled up into my neighborhood, and I saw little kids still outside playing street ball. I watched the children look at me as I slowed down in the middle of the street. The kids watched me and then began to move along the curbside so I could get through. I slowly went pass the kids and saw in the review mirror they had begun playing again as soon as I passed.

I pulled into my garage and shut off the car. I walked inside and turned on the lights to the living room and kitchen. I grabbed some ice from the freezer and wrapped it in a towel. The cold stung my wounds, but it felt nice at the same time. I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. I reached for the remote and turned on the TV.

I am going to have to figure out an explanation for my wounds. Boxing, sparring…what am I going to say at work tomorrow?

Chapter 2

Tutelage

Obi sighed to himself, looking at his hanging calendar on his kitchen wall. The past month he has been going back and forth to work, church, and The Blue Lizard. He didn’t really have any time to think about much since he had accepted the request of becoming a church elder.

It was yet again another training session to be certified as an elder. He had been attending these meetings since the day he called. Everyone wanted to begin as soon as possible. This morning he assured himself to only think of work since they had him memorizing the book of CuZn. He was becoming familiar with the book but no closer to understanding the spiritual part of life people seem to go in search for.

Obi grabbed a yogurt out of the fridge and a water bottle and closed the fridge door. He quickly grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter and walked out the backdoor from the kitchen.

The gate was opened wide to back out his truck, which he was previously been working on and now had the funds to complete.

His father had attempted to help him restore it, and as he was sitting in it, he was reminded of when his father was sitting next to him in the passenger seat talking about how fixing cars is really an American father son bonding activity. He was able to complete the project after acquiring the inheritance a week ago. He slowly backed down the driveway. Obi got out again to close the gate quickly. He contemplated whether or not he wanted to get breakfast this morning at the diner around the corner.

Obi passed the diner without thinking about it as he passed the light. Obi shrugged his shoulders and just continue driving to work. He would just get something for lunch then. He drove another few miles and arrived to work and parked his car in the adjacent lot owned by his boss.

Hey, Obi, he heard Al yell without looking up from the computer.

Morning, Al, Obi acknowledged.

When’s your last day again? Obi heard from Shaya who was down in the pit cleaning the floor of an oil spill.

Next week Friday. Obi huffed.

Obi had given his two weeks’ notice when he decided to buy the lot two blocks away from The Blue Lizard. It was a big enough space to finally make his own shop. He got a farewell party a week ago, and customers were jesting about leaving with him when his shop officially opens.

Okay, Shaya said like it was still new news.

I’ll be on Ms. Rogers car if you need me! Obi shouted out loud for all to hear.

Al responded, All right, as he got up out of his seat to open the garage door to let a customer through.

Obi’s right hand was cramping as he finished on Ms. Rogers car for pick up tomorrow. At least it was finish on time he thought. Obi’s day went by as usual. After finishing Ms. Rogers car, he assisted Shaya with some oil changes and teaching him how to use some equipment. He was going to miss this place since at times it felt like a second home.

After lunch, the day seemed to go by faster than usual, and it was already four in the afternoon when Obi saw the wall clock.

Hey, I’m off! he yelled loudly past the noise as he went to the indoor sink to wash his hands.

See you tomorrow, came a few minutes later after the noise stopped.

Obi gave a head nod to Al and Shaya before he returned to his car.

He made it back home in twenty minutes to quickly get a shower before he went to church tonight. Obi pulled into his driveway and opened the gate closing it behind himself. He pulled out his backdoor key and opened to enter the house. He shut the door behind himself and kicked off his shoes at the door.

Obi tapped his phone twice and it illuminated saying it was 4:32 p.m. He had some minutes to stop smelling like oil and gas. He quickly placed his phone and keys on the kitchen counter and walked toward the bathroom to start the shower.

Rushing through to get dressed he did not understand how in the last month he never seemed to have enough time. His father made it look easy going to work and then doing church functions, and his mom was the same. He often saw them either at work or being dragged to church functions before he was able to choose. He knew if his dad could find a way then he could too.

Obi finished dressing some moments later. He brushed his hair in a low ponytail as he put his watch back on his right wrist.

His boots clicked across the wood floor as he picked up his phone and keys again, exiting the house. He walked out the gate and locked it. Obi started his car and left the house to get to church. He should make it on time if he hurries. They liked to be punctual.

Obi entered the church parking lot noticing Uncle Ijo’s and Elder Smitt’s cars in the lot. He brisked through the doors swiftly and turned right to go through a different hallway. He made a left and could hear some noise as chairs were being screeched across the floor. He opened the door and saw Elder Smitt sitting in his seat going over some papers with the CuZn Bible open. Uncle Ijo was dragging a chair toward the table. Usually, they were quite prepared but this scene was new.

Whát háppėnėd tṏ yṏúr cháΐr? Obi asked, directed toward Uncle Ijo.

Ḯt hás tṏ gėt rėúphṏlstėrėd. Ḯ sát ΐn ΐt, ánd ΐt sáid ‘my frΐėnd, nṏt tṏdáy,’ ánd Ḯ hėárd á rΐp. He sighed and went on to say, Śΐstėr Pálácΐṏs sáΐd shė wΐll dṏ ΐt whėn Ḯ áskėd árṏúnd whṏ cṏúld fΐx my sėát. Śṏ thánk Gṏd fṏr hėr, he said, standing setting the chair at the table.

Wėll, wė’rė áll hėrė nṏw. Ŀėt’s ṏpėn wΐth práyėr, Uncle Ijo commented lastly.

Elder Smitt stopped what he was doing and rose from his seat.

Ḯ’ll stárt, he said, Ŀṏrd Ḣėávėnly Ḟáthėr, wė thánk yṏú fṏr ánṏthėr dáy ánd fṏr állṏwΐng ús ṏncė ágáΐn tṏ mėėt wΐth eách ṏthėr ánd lėárn whát wṏrk yṏú wánt fṏr ús tṏ dṏ tṏ sprėád yṏúr kΐngdṏm. Then he paused for Elder Ijo to continue the prayer.

Ŀṏrd, wė árė nṏt ṏúr ṏwn ánd wė práy yṏú dṏ nṏt lėt ús gṏ ánd thát wė dėspėrátėly nėėd yṏú hėrė ánd ėvėrydáy ṏf ṏúr lΐvės. Wė cṏntΐnúė tṏ práy hṏw tṏ áΐd Prΐėst Śálzbúrgΐtė. Wė thánk yṏú fṏr ṏúr fámΐly ánd frΐėnds ánd ṏúr brṏthėrs ánd sΐstėrs ṏf Ṅṏsṏl. Uncle Ijo spoke next.

Obi finished, Ŀṏrd, wė thánk yṏú fṏr cṏúntΐng ús wṏrthy fṏr thė wṏrk, ánd plėásė hėlp gúΐdė ús tṏ sėė, lΐstėn, ánd spėák tṏ ṏnė ánṏthėr lΐkė Ĵėsús dΐd wΐth hΐs dΐscΐplės. Ṫhánk yṏú, Ĵėsús, fṏr yṏúr rėsúrrėctΐṏn ánd blṏṏd. Ḯn Ĵėsús’s námė, blėss ús ánd thė vėszėlyΐtė grṏvės wė sėrvė. Ámėn.

All the men sat down. Elder Smitt passed a document to each one of them with tonight’s objectives.

Ṏbsΐdΐán, wė dṏ thánk yṏú fṏr bėΐng áblė tṏ lėárn ás qúΐckly ás yṏú cán. Wė árė cṏmΐng tṏ á clṏsė ṏn yṏúr cėrtΐfΐcátΐṏn prṏcėss. Ṫhėrė wΐll bė án ėxám fṏr cėrtΐfΐcátΐṏn, yṏú wΐll pėrfṏrm thė wálk ṏf Ѷėszėlyΐtė Grṏvė Śtátΐṏn, ánd thėn yṏú wΐll bė públΐcly báptΐzėd ΐntṏ thė cṏngrėgátΐṏn ṏf ĆúZn. Wė wΐll sėnd yṏú thė dátės ṏf thėsė ėvėnts shṏrtly. Plėásė ádvΐsė ṏf thė dátės tṏ bė ṏn tΐmė, Elder Smitt stated.

Obi nodded before he sat down in his seat.

Ṏbsΐdΐán, plėásė stánd, wė wΐll bėgΐn thΐs sėssΐṏn thΐs tΐmė wΐth sṏmė prėlΐmΐnáry qúėstΐṏns thát máy bė ṏn thė ėxám. Whát ΐs thė fΐrst cháptėr ṏf Psálms? Plėásė rėcΐtė by wṏrd ΐf áblė ánd ΐnclúdė á súmmáry ánd ΐntėrprėtátΐṏn. Elder Smitt said seriously.

Obi stood up and momentarily began to think. He knew he was memorizing the book for a reason. He wasn’t told to remember the first chapter of every book of CuZn. He could not manage to say any verses by heart, but he decided to go with the interpretation first.

Ḯt dΐscússės thė wáy ṏf thė rΐghtėṏús ánd thė ėnd ṏf thė úngṏdly. Ṫhė dėlΐght ṏf mán ΐs nṏt ΐn sΐn ṏr wΐckėdnėss bút ΐn thė láw ṏf thė Ŀṏrd ánd thát yṏú shṏúld mėdΐátė ṏn thė láw dáy ánd nΐght. Ḯf yṏú dṏ, yṏú wΐll prṏspėr ánd bė frúΐtfúl. Ḃút ΐf yṏú dṏ nṏt ánd árė lΐkė thė págán yṏú wΐll rėcėΐvė hársh júdgmėnt frṏm thė Ŀṏrd. Ṫhė wáys ṏf thė rΐghtėṏús ΐs knṏwn by thė Ŀṏrd whΐlė thė wΐckėd wΐll dΐė, Obi said, squinting his right eye in remembrance of the last line.

Uncle Ijo bobbed his head in agreement. Ṫhát ΐs á súccΐnct súmmáry. Ḣṏwėvėr, dṏ yṏú rėmėmbėr ány ṏf thė vėrsės?

Ṅṏ. Ḯ cán nṏt át thΐs mṏmėnt. Ṫhė ṏnly thΐng Ḯ cán rėmėmbėr ΐs blėssėd ΐs thė ṏnė whṏ dṏės nṏt wálk ΐn stėp wΐth thė wΐckėd ánd tṏ nṏt sΐt wΐth mṏckėrs. Ḯ wΐll prėpárė mṏrė, Obi stated.

Ṏkáy. Ḿy qúėstΐṏn nėxt. Ṫhėrė árė mány whṏ bėlΐėvė thė Ćhúrch ṏf ĆúZn ΐs fálsė ánd twΐsts thė wṏrds ṏf Ĵėsús. Pėṏplė hávė bėėn crΐtΐcΐzΐng ΐt fṏr mΐxΐng págánΐsm bėlΐėfs ánd chángΐng scrΐptúrė. Ḯt ΐs ṏftėn tṏ bė sáΐd ΐt ΐs nṏt rėcṏgnΐzėd ás á Ćhrΐstΐán dėnṏmΐnátΐṏn. Whát dṏ yṏú sáy? Uncle Ijo calmly collected.

Obi stood there a moment. Growing up in his childhood, he was between these two. He didn’t quite understand then the difference between the two as a child, but he did notice that some books in the Bible were not in CuZn. He also noticed his mom used to speak about the Holy Spirit like his aunt did, but he no longer had a Bible to compare the books.

He began, Ėvėn Ĵėsús sáΐd ΐn Ḿárk thėrė árė mány fálsė Ćhrΐsts ánd prṏphėts tṏ rΐsė ánd shṏw sΐgns ánd wṏndėrs tṏ dėcėΐvė, ΐf pṏssΐblė, ėvėn thė ėlėct. Ṫhė fálsΐty ṏf ṏthėr rėlΐgΐṏns ánd ΐdėṏlṏgΐės cṏntΐnúė tṏ pṏΐnt tṏ thė scrΐptúrė ṏf ĆúZn ás trúė bėcáúsė ΐn thė dΐffėrėncės bėtwėėn thė bΐblė ánd thė bṏṏk ṏf ĆúZn yṏú máy nṏtΐcė thát sṏmė ‘scrΐptúrė’ ṏr bṏṏks wėrė áddėd. Ṫhėsė áddėd bṏṏks hávė sėvėrál scrΐptúrės thát thėṏlṏgΐáns árė ėvėn ΐnvėstΐgátΐng whėthėr thėy shṏúld hávė bėėn áddėd ṏr nṏt. Ṫhė bṏṏk ṏf ĆúZn hás áll thė ṏrΐgΐnál tránslátΐṏns sΐncė Ṅṏsṏl wás clṏsė wΐth Ḯsráėl ánd hád Ḣėbrėw áncėstry bėfṏrė ṏúr mΐgrátΐṏns.

The room was silent for a moment. Obi hoped these answers were sufficient enough.

Before Elder Smitt could get his words out, Priest Salzburgite entered in the room. The elders rose from their table and bowed their heads.

Priest Salzburgite stated, Ḯf yṏú dṏn’t mΐnd, Ḯ wántėd tṏ spėák wΐth yṏú áll. Ḯ ápṏlṏgΐzė fṏr nṏt tėllΐng yṏú sṏṏnėr bút thΐs ΐs ΐmpṏrtánt.

Uncle Ijo offered his seat to Priest Salzburgite. Obi offered his seat to Elder Ijo and stood on the other side of the table.

Whėrė árė thė ṏthėr cháΐrs? Priest Salzburgite asked.

Ṫhėy árė bėΐng clėánėd át thė mṏmėnt. Wė wėrė sėndΐng ṏúr cháΐrs látėr ṏn bút kėpt thėm fṏr thė mėėtΐng. Álsṏ, mΐnė nėėds tṏ bė mėndėd bėcáúsė ΐt rΐppėd ṏpėn tṏdáy, Uncle Ijo stated.

Priest Salzburgite nodded. He rapt the attention of the men, Ṏbsΐdΐán Ḿΐcá thánk yṏú fṏr tákΐng yṏúr prėpárátΐṏn dΐlΐgėntly. Yṏú hávė dṏnė ėxcėptΐṏnálly wėll ΐn lėárnΐng ĆúZn. Ḯ hávė tṏ spėák wΐth yṏú ábṏút ṏúr hṏúsΐng prṏgrám. Yṏúr fáthėr wás ṏúr lΐáΐsṏn wΐth thė cṏmplėxės. Ḯ júst rėcėΐvėd nėws thát wė nėėd hṏúsΐng fṏr nΐx pėṏplė. Ḯt wás brṏúght tṏ ṏúr áttėntΐṏn júst thΐs pást sėrvΐcė thát Ḿr. Ĵámėsṏn Śΐft wás ΐnvṏlvėd wΐth yṏúr fáthėr. Álthṏúgh wė árė háppy thát wė hád án árrángėmėnt, bút nṏw wė hávė cṏncėrns.

Ḯ dṏn’t úndėrstánd whát yṏú mėán, said Obi, his eyebrows furrowed.

Ḯ hávė rėcėΐvėd ΐnfṏrmátΐṏn frṏm án ṏld frΐėnd whṏ lΐvės ΐn thė cṏmplėxės státΐng hė sáw Ḿr. Śΐft ánd ánṏthėr yṏúng mán wálk ṏvėr tṏ yṏúr fáthėr dúrΐng thė fėstΐvál áftėr hė hád lėft thė stágė. Ṫhėn á húgė cṏmmṏtΐṏn hád stártlėd thė crṏwd wΐth thė gún shṏts. Ḣė dΐdn’t sėė thát párt, bút hė wás súrė thát thė ṏwnėr hád mėt yṏúr fáthėr ánd ėxchángėd wṏrds. Priest Salzburgite said.

Ṫhánk yṏú fṏr ΐnfṏrmΐng mė. ṄÁĆĆ ΐs álsṏ thΐnkΐng ábṏút cṏntΐnúΐng thėΐr hṏúsΐng prṏgrám wΐth hΐm ás wėll, Obi stated.

Áhh, ṄÁĆĆ dṏės nṏt hávė ṏúr sámė ṏpΐnΐṏn ΐn thΐs máttėr, Uncle Ijo muttered.

Wė dṏn’t hávė thė sámė ṏpΐnΐṏn ṏn á lṏt ṏf máttėrs, Elder Smitt stated under his breath.

Wė dṏn’t wánt tṏ álárm yṏú. Ŀΐkė yṏú, wė wėrė úndėr thė ΐmprėssΐṏn thΐs Ḿr. Śΐft wás án hṏnṏráblė mán whṏ trúly wántėd tṏ hėlp Ṅṏsṏlΐáns ΐntėgrátė ΐntṏ ÚŚ. Wė ápṏlṏgΐzė tṏdáy tṏ brΐng ΐt úp, bút wė úndėrstṏṏd hė wás thė ṏthėr ΐndΐvΐdúál whṏ wás ΐnjúrėd thát dáy, Uncle Ijo stated.

Wė wṏúld júst lΐkė tṏ clárΐfy thė ΐnfṏrmátΐṏn thát wás prṏvΐdėd. Ḯf yṏú cán spėák wΐth hΐm pėrsṏnálly, ΐt wΐll hėlp ús ΐn ṏúr dėcΐsΐṏn ábṏút thė hṏúsΐng, Priest Salzburgite assured.

Elder Smitt spoke up, Ḯ hėárd thát thė ṏwnėr, Ḿr. Śΐft, wás thė mán whṏ stártėd thė áltėrcátΐṏn wΐth yṏúr fáthėr. Ḯf thát’s trúė, árė yṏú súrė yṏú wṏúld lΐkė tṏ hṏúsė thėm ΐn thė cṏmplėx?

Obi turned to Elder Ijo for confirmation, but his appearance looked both concerned and shocked.

Árė yṏú súrė? Ḿy fáthėr ánd Ḯ ṏnly vΐsΐtėd my áúnt át thė cṏmplėxės. Ḣė wás ΐnvΐtėd tṏ thė fúnėrál ṏnly bėcáúsė hė áskėd my áúnt ánd wás sėndΐng hΐs sympáthy. Ḯ hΐghly dṏúbt my áúnt wṏúld hávė ΐnvΐtėd hΐm ΐf shė knėw thát. Ḯf thΐs ΐs thė cásė, cán Ḯ ásk whėrė yṏú hávė gṏttėn yṏúr ΐnfṏrmátΐṏn frṏm? Obi asked.

Ḯ hád my ṏwn cṏncėrns ábṏút plácΐng ṏúr pėṏplė ΐn thė sámė lṏcátΐṏn, bút wė hád fėw ṏptΐṏns, ánd wΐth thė ΐncrėásė ṏf vΐṏlėncė ΐt sėėms tṏ bė ėvėn lṏwėr. Ḋΐd Ḿr. Śΐft sáy ánythΐng ábṏút hΐs ΐnjúry, lΐkė why wás á gún púllėd ṏn hΐm? Uncle Ijo asked.

Ḯ’m nṏt súrė ábṏút thát. Ḣė dΐdn’t sáy ánythΐng ábṏút hΐs ΐnjúry. Ḯ dΐd nṏt ásk, bút whát dṏ yṏú thΐnk wė shṏúld dṏ? Whát wṏúld my fáthėr hávė dṏnė? Obi asked.

His mind was now thinking about how his father would respond and how to approach this subject with Mr. Sift, he did not speak to him at the funeral other than the introduction and the bathroom situation.

Ḯ thΐnk, pėrháps, thΐs ΐs thė rėál rėásṏn why Ḯ sáΐd yṏú nėėd tṏ spėák wΐth hΐm. Wė áll nėėd clárΐty. Ḃė cárėfúl whΐlė yṏú árė ṏút thėrė, sṏmė ṏf ṏúr párΐshΐṏnėrs hávė tṏld mė thát tėnsΐṏn bėtwėėn Ṅṏsṏlΐáns ánd nṏn-Ṅṏsṏlΐáns wΐthΐn thṏsė búΐldΐngs árė ΐncrėásΐng ėách dáy ánd pėṏplė árė vΐėwΐng thát árėá ás á bṏrgṏ, Priest Salzburgrite stated.

Ṏkáy, whėn wṏúld yṏú lΐkė mė tṏ mėėt wΐth hΐm? Obi asked next.

Plėásė ás sṏṏn ás pṏssΐblė. Ṫhėsė pėṏplė hávė álrėády bėėn dΐsplácėd ėnṏúgh, Priest Slazburgrited confirmed.

Obi nodded. He would set up a meet and greet with Jameson Sift to discuss what he has heard.

Chapter 3

Spoken Word

As per Er’s suggestion, I began to use an ice bath after each session. Immediately when I got home, I would lie in the bath full of ice, submerging my body in it. I hated it, but I didn’t know what else to do. It kept the bruises to a minimum and relaxed my muscles from the fights. However last week, I had bruises that would not let up. I knew I appeared red, but I thought I would get by. Nope. My coworkers asked me what’s going on because it looked like I was in a fight during one of our meetings. I told them I began to take an adult self-defense class. Josh asked why when that could not protect me against a gun, while Sharon told me to be careful and not put myself in situations to use it. She briefly stated she took a woman’s self-defense class months ago, while we walked out of the employee lounge, but still carried pepper spray and a taser in her purse. Mr. Stewart did not say anything.

At least, no one asked the next day when I had a limp at work. That was a week ago, and almost every day I saw Er after work now. The time got later and later, but I still ended up on the mat. I also had to go to Jameson’s complexes to check in on tenants, no rent collection because the month was already paid, but I had to attend tenant meetings and disputes all over again.

It appears the Noslian versus non-Nosolian disputes had eased up, and people were becoming more tolerant.

God, I’m tired.

Today, I was sitting at the children area’s front desk at the library bored out of my mind when Mist’s text came through finally. She had sent us a group text asking us to come see her perform a poem at a spoken word event. We had all agreed, but she did not send us the location just kept sending us reminder texts of confirmation. The last time I heard any of her poems was in college. This would be a good break from Er, Dr. Kov, Jameson’s schedule, and me trying to get some sleep in between. I saw the address for her poetry night stating it was at 7:00 p.m. I was not familiar where it was in that area.

I looked up quickly from my phone. I’m surprised there isn’t that many kids today. I placed my phone back down quickly and scanned the room as I only saw a handful of children and two with their parents searching for books to check-out. I togged the mouse to wake the computer, and I clicked on the internet icon. I typed in the address and saw that the poetry event was at Fervent Prayer Church.

Hmm…that’s why she kept confirming with us. I haven’t stepped into a church since I left the orphanage. Even then Mist tried to get me and Jameson to go to church while in college when we met her.

I exit the browser and popped the library page up as I saw a parent and child approach me.

The rest of work was okay. I got off work at 5:00 p.m. and headed on home. I kind of flew home actually as I was already pulling into the garage.

I chilled out until it was time for me to leave the house about close to 6:00 p.m. I gave Sarai the address, and she directed me as I drove until I pulled into the driveway to enter the parking lot. It was already crowded with cars and people entering the building. I know Chole and Jameson were already inside because both sent a text in chat stating they were here. I parked Sarai around the back and got out.

When did churches start doing poetry?

I walked into the building passing smiling faces as I was searching for Jameson and Chloe. I saw two doors opened and some people walking through them. I followed the crowd and went through the door and saw it was the sanctuary. I slowed my pace as I saw Jameson sitting on the right side of the church and Chloe on the left side; both were seated near the back.

I pulled out my phone to text the chat which side until I felt a small hand on my arm, and I looked down to see an elderly woman holding onto my left arm.

Can you walk me to the front please and thank you? she whispered.

I nodded as I began to walk down the aisle, slowing down for each row. She nudged me to keep moving forward towards the right side. Next thing I knew, we were in the front row. I saw an embroidered pillow written in black Prayer Warrior in the first seat. She moved to sit next to the pillow. I sat her down gently into the pew. I nodded at her to turn and walk back down the aisle till she grabbed my hand.

Are you not going to sit with me? she asked.

Uhmm, my friends are waiting for me, I said in a hush tone.

I think your friends will be fine. I would like your company, she said in a sweet voice.

I looked over the pews to Jameson and saw his head in his phone. I looked towards Chloe, and she saw me. I waved at her to see if she would move to the front. Chloe motioned her arms in an X. The elderly lady turned her head to see who I was waving at.

She’s pretty, is she your girlfriend? she asked kindly.

No. She’s not. I shook my left hand at her without looking at the woman. My eyes met Jameson’s when he looked up and saw me and wave. I made the same motion for him to sit near me, but he shook his head and laughed. I tilted my head for him to see Chloe on the other side. Chloe turned her head to see Jameson and waved again, but neither one of them attempted to move. I still had my back toward the pulpit when I saw the lights dimming.

Bruh.

Everyone, can you please take your seats. I heard the voice from behind me.

I looked into the elderly face, and she patted the seat next to hers. I turned around and sat down.

The speaker began speaking, but I was still trying to figure out how to move to the back. I caught his words here and there as I heard Leader of Young Adult Ministry, thanks to God, and thanks to Pastor Alan Stephen.

All my plans of escape failed before I decided to tune in completely.

The young adult ministry would like to share their poems on freedom with you all tonight in conjunction with pastor Stephen series of Walking in Freedom. Before we begin, please stand for the reading of the word, the young man said.

The congregation rose. There was a momentary silence until I saw the verse on the screen. Everyone read the scripture aloud, and I followed suit: If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed (John 8:36).

The young man began to pray, and I saw the old woman eyes beside me close. He was speaking and starting to spring his feet off the ground, and I could hear some shouting until he closed. Amen and amen! he shouted.

The congregation said, Amen.

I heard movement and assumed we could sit back down.

The lady to my right of me began to clap as more applause was going forth as a young girl walked up to mic. I sat there, but I can honestly say I was only here for Mist. After the young girl, I sat through five other people of their poetry. Then Mist came up on stage and I leaned myself forward to hear her.

Mist grabbed the mic with a wide smile. Hello, my name is Abigail, and my poem is called ‘Freedom in God’s Bosom.’

I am climbing into your bosom Lord.

Today, right now, not five minutes from now,

Not an hour or a day from now,

Right now, I am climbing into your bosom.

In your bosom is where I want to be.

It has security, intimacy, warmth, and strength.

In your bosom is peace, rest, and love.

Like a dog who curls against their master’s while asleep,

I too want to be like that with you.

So here I come Lord, with arms outstretched like a child,

I will crawl into your bosom where I feel your strong arms around me, holding me for security.

Where our breaths sync and our heartbeats aligns for a greater intimacy, where your presence gives me warmth and your thunderous voice gives rest, peace, and love.

I am climbing into your bosom whether it’s morning, noon, or night.

I am climbing into your bosom. I will be perched on your knees to see your wonderous works, singing and praising with you all the day long.

Learning and leaning into my Great Heavenly Father.

I am climbing into your bosom where I can hear you the most. Joy or tears I am climbing into your bosom. Sitting in your lap I will nuzzle my head against your chest. I will grab your face with my little hands to say I love you, Dad. And I will hear you say, I love you too. And we will smile at each other until we are face-to-face.

So here I am Lord, right now, I am climbing into your bosom forever more.

The entire crowd was silent for the moment, when a loud Hallelujah broke through the silence.

I don’t know why, but my chest started to hurt suddenly. I began to furiously rub around it.

This bet not be a wound from Er acting up.

Is everything all right? the elderly woman asked.

Yes. My chest hurts slightly. I’ll be all right, I said with a faint smile.

I turned around and saw some people get up and start waving their hands, saw some tears, and saw people bouncing on their feet screaming. The musicians began to play some instrumental and cries of worship sprung forth. I turned back around in my seat as it continued to go forth and I saw some others grab the mic and began to sing. The worship went on and on as people were running back and forth, I could hear someone behind me speaking in some language, and other praises. The lights were made bright again as worship continued.

An older man came back into the pulpit. We are sorry, but not sorry for the move of the Holy Spirit. Thank you all who brought forth their Spirit-filled spoken word. Hallelujah! he interjected with tears coming down his face.

Jesus… he soothed. The Spirit of God is in this place. Do not ignore his voice if you hear it. Do not ignore his voice if he is telling you to let it go. Do not walk away from Jesus’s voice beckoning you to come. Let the all-consuming fire God burn up all the hurt, pain, frustration. If anyone needs prayer, please come forth to the altar, the older man spoke.

I watched as people gathered at the front and spaced themselves across the front of the altar or pulpit. A man fell to his knees in front of me as someone knelt beside him whispering into his right ear.

The elderly lady beside me rose from her seat and motioned toward a young girl that had her eyes closed and wrapped her arms around her nestling her cheek against hers whispering I’m assuming a prayer. I saw the man from the pulpit lay his hands on a woman, but I could hear her wailing as I could see him continuing praying over her.

I don’t know how long it took, but some people left the front after prayer and there were a few ushered to the front pews to continue praying? Or crying? I really didn’t know. The man that fell to his knees was placed a couple paces away from me as he was sat with an elderly man and the man talked with him in a grandpa type voice I overheard as the cries died out.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for raining down on us. If anyone will like to connect to our ministry, please go to the back of the church and connect with our Brother Milton. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for binding the enemy as we all depart from this place but never from your divine presence. Bring us back at the appointed time. In Jesus’s mighty name, thank God and amen, the older man stated.

The energy in the place felt high, but was mellowing out. Huh, I didn’t know this is how other people do church…

I didn’t see Mist come over standing on my right side as I was searching for her on the left side of the church. My heart jumped slightly as I heard her whisper, I see you’ve met Aunt Shirley.

Aunt Shirley? I asked as I rose from the pew and hugged her.

That’s who you were sitting next to. She says she is everyone’s aunt. You know you on purse watch since she left to go talk to pastor, Mist stated.

So, your real name is Abigail? I asked as I pulled away but did a quick glance at the purse to make sure it was there.

Yes. I don’t personally like it, but Mom’s favorite woman from the Bible is Abigail. But please do not call me by my government name, Mist half-scolded.

Okay, Abby, I won’t, I teased.

I overlooked the crowd and saw Jameson and Chloe making their way over.

Together they both screamed, Abby! and hugged Mist.

Immediately Mist pushed them off and said, Not you too. No one is calling me by that name.

No one. Sister Abigail, are you going to introduce me to your friends? a small voice interrupted.

We turned to see Aunt Shirley standing and patiently waiting.

Uh, hi, Aunt Shirley, yes. This is my friend Abel whom you were sitting next to this evening. These two are Jameson and Chole, Mist stated as she gestured toward each of us.

Nice to meet you. Did you enjoy the service? Aunt Shirley asked.

Yes, We all said at once.

Well then, are you going to come to morning service this Sunday? Aunt Shirley asked, looking among me, Chloe, and Jameson.

Aunt Shirley’s eyes locked on me as I tried to advert her gaze and attention.

Yes, I stated half-heartedly.

She turned to Jameson, but he quickly remarked, I have to be at a city council meeting on Sunday. Sorry I will not be in attendance.

Chloe squealed next, I have a group therapy session I have to attend.

Aunt Shirley beamed. Then you’ll be able to come to the young adult service at 6:00 p.m. on Sunday night.

Jameson and Chole both looked at Aunt Shirley aghast.

I still will not be able come. Perhaps another day. Jameson chimed.

Then next Sunday it is. I will see you both and have sister Abigail call to make sure. She grabbed Jameson’s hand and patted it.

I laughed internally. Aunt Shirley is very bold.

Mist we were going to take you out tonight, shall we get going? Jameson requested toward Mist.

What?!

Yes. We have dinner reservations. Mist I’ll see you at the car? Chloe asked.

I thought you all drove yourself? I directed toward Chloe.

Chole’s face was neutral, but I can see in her eyes that she wanted to hit me after asking that question.

We did. I want to meet at the car so we can all pull off at the same time, Chloe said.

Wow, lying in church.

Aunt Shirley, it was nice meeting you, Chloe said with a tight lip as she left the circle.

Jameson countered in similar fashion and left us.

As soon as Jameson left, I saw the young guy that opened the mic come over. He had a sheen across his face as he went over to Aunt Shirly and kissed her right cheek. He nudged Mist before turning to me.

"Hello, my name is Jonathan. I’m one