Faith's Genesis: Book 1

By Susan Withrow

Spiritual gifts are given to all of us. It is through these gifts our lives take flight.

In a relationship with Princess Juliana of Liechtenstein, American Jonathan Baker never knew how dangerous fatherhood would be until a political threat arose that threatened their life of their young family. The event, so traumatic, that it

• Language: English
• Publisher: Agar Publishing
• Release date: Mar 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9781958856185

Book preview

Copyright © 2022 by Susan Withrow

ISBN:     Paperback         978-1-958856-17-8

               eBook               978-1-958856-18-5

               LCCN              2023903336

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Chapter 1: The Perfect Life

Chapter 2: Bad Karma

Chapter 3: Epoch

Chapter 4: Provisions

Chapter 5: Grandparents

Chapter 6: Forsights

Chapter 7: Springboard

Chapter 8: Senior Moments

Chapter 9: British Liaisons

Chapter 10: Prophetic Foundations

Chapter 11: Riddle Me This

Chapter 12: Smite

Chapter 13: Conciliatory Concessions

Chapter 14: Uncanny Coincidence?

Chapter 15: Winter’s Solace

Chapter 16: Divine Intervention

Chapter 17: Pandora

Chapter 18: Prometheus

Chapter 19: Preordination

Chapter 20: Aphrodite’s Overture

Chapter 21: Iris

Chapter 22: Blessings

CHAPTER 1

The Perfect Life

The crowd in the high school football stadium roared as the quarterback, wearing seventy-four for the red and gold team C. Baker, sent a long bomb down the field. The pigskin howled and spiraled to the wide receiver down field, who had rolled out at the ten-yard line and set himself to await the ball’s arrival. The wide receiver, number sixty-two, Roulette, saw the football catch mystical wings as it cascaded gently into his hands. He quickly darted around the defensive contenders and heard the all too familiar sickening thuds of smashing football helmets and falling bodies onto the ground. Roulette had just made it to the goal posts when the air horn buzzed signaling the end of overtime. He had just won the game for the Garfield High Guardians!

The fanatic euphoria directed at the red and gold Guardians was intoxicating. Roulette came from the end zone hoisted upon his teammates’ shoulders. Meanwhile, C. Baker went over to help her fellow teammate who had made the tackle to allow Roulette free reign and course to the end zone and helped him up. He wore number twenty-four; he was only identified by the initial and name T. Baker, on the backside of his grimy, gritty, sweaty and muddy jersey. He looked as though he was a little pig who had wallowed in the muddy field during the wet game.

C. Baker took off her helmet. She had brown eyes and gorgeous locks of amber hair, now plastered to her head in various places.

Are you okay there Trevor? That was a great hit. You saved my really bad pass. That mud in the middle of the field caused me to lose my balance. Besides, that defensive end was on me as though I was a bitch in heat. She teased, Would you like a hand up? she asked extending her free hand as her other was filled with her helmet. The teammate took her upon the offer.

Trevor took off his helmet. He had flaming red hair as well and beautiful blue-green eyes.

At least he got the bitch part right Catherine. He said with a mischievous and teasing smile. He received a good sibling punch, You hit like a girl. No wonder we always must save your ass. He teased, That’s how you’re going to be. I save your piss poor pass and I get hit. Jeez. He said with a smile again.

You owe me anyway, she said offering him a hand up as a dizzy looking cheerleader with a hint of Korean American attributes and jet-black hair with a sickening dose of peppy spirit trotted over.

The cheerleader, Roulette—a nice looking young man with a hint of Korean American attributes and hair that matched the cheerleader’s—and the two Bakers stood on the football field waiting for the traffic to clear.

The cheerleader had blood smeared across her cheek and on the gold lettering of her uniform.

Peter when did you get socked in the nose? My nose has been bleeding since before the half. But you don’t see any on his uniform. Do you? God, sometimes I just hate being his twin sister! said the cheerleader holding a bloodied cloth upon her nose.

Oh, hush Rochelle! Peter said, It’s no picnic for me either. Sorry, about the blood sis, that came from that tackle I made in the second. The dude’s cleat got me in the nose. Peter said, So are you all ready.

You really don’t mind taking us home too, Peter? Catherine asked.

Oh no. It isn’t your fault your parents got called out of the game because of that car accident in the second. Besides, I have an uncle who is a cop. I understand. Need you forget my father was a police person too? God rest his soul. I know how it is. Poor mom having to raise the lot of us for fifteen years by herself…I don’t think I could raise four children like that…anyway, I think the traffic has died out a bit. Let’s go before I’m too tired and sore to drive. He said as they left the field. Besides, I wanted to let you guys know that we’re going to have a little homecoming get-together after Friday’s game.

Really. That sounds like a blast! Catherine started

Hold up Catherine. It’s just a little get-together, not a party. We’re not allowed to use the p-word in our house or mom said that she would get all the sisters from the convent to come over and supervise. So, it’s just a get-together. Peter said, as he and the others entered a 1990 putrid green colored Chevy Astrovan.

Driving home, the flash of a motorcycle cop with his lights and siren, catches Peter by surprise, and pulled them over.

I don’t believe this. I wasn’t speeding was I Rochelle? he asked Rochelle who rode shotgun next to him.

No, the speed limit is 65 you were only going 66…most cops don’t really say much about that. Do they? Rochelle asked as Peter pulled over and the police officer came over after sticking his helmet on his California Highway Patrol issued motorcycle.

There came a knock on the driver’s window. Peter rolled it down.

Driver’s license and registration please. Said this police officer in the dutiful fashion of an experienced traffic cop. He resembled Peter and Rochelle to a great degree.

Officer… Peter caught his name plate, Birmingham… Uncle Chad, what is it you want? I have to get my friends home.

Driver’s License and registration… Please Peter, I know that you must get them home, but you can do it without breaking any laws to ensure everyone’s safety. Right… Hi guys. Officer Chad Birmingham said to the occupants, By the way Peter, it’s Sergeant. Chad said as Peter knew this was going to be bad either way, Do you know why I stopped you?

Why don’t you just enlighten us Uncle Chad…? Peter said unbelievably. I know I wasn’t speeding.

Really? I clocked you at 67 in a 65 miles-per-hour zone…sounds like speeding to me, besides your back taillight was out, as is the brake light in your window. I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed me sooner. I’ve been following you since you got onto the freeway. I actually was just going to stop you and tell you that Bernice wanted picked up from dad’s house. I was going to try to catch you before you left the school, but…oh that too…you squealed your wheels out of the school parking lot…that’s another reckless driving mark… Chad said writing the citation.

Do you really have to write that down? Peter whined as Chad just gave him a look that he knew full well and cleared his throat. This was the all-too-famous look and raised brow that said ‘do you expect me to answer that’?

You’re so busted. Chad and Rochelle muttered with a smirk simultaneously.

Why can’t Chase or Gabby pick her up? I’m rather tired. Peter said.

Well that would explain the weaving in and out of traffic I witnessed. If you are that tired you really should let one of the others drive… That’s another mark. Chad wrote.

I can explain that… Peter said.

Let me see… I don’t think I’ll write you up for that. Chad said making a scribble mark, I can’t fault you for driving like your mother and being your father’s child, at least you drive on the correct side of the road. Chad said.

What do you mean Uncle Chad? Ma drives fine. Rochelle asked with a look of confusion.

I meant your Aunt Lily…oh, no seat belts, that’s another… Chad said just catching them not wearing them. Okay, I think everything is in order now Peter. Sign here, here… Oh and here he handed the book to Peter. Peter signed angrily.

You never did answer my question. Why can’t the others pick them up? Peter asked.

"Oh sorry… Gabby is working on big FBI drug bust down in Long Beach somewhere with Anthony, and Chase is out with Jo.

The fruitcake that he is…they were supposed to be going to some bar down by the pier a Blue Oyster Club something or other. Jo couldn’t get a vehicle tonight, so Chase borrowed my second car to go pick up her up.—Here you go. Chad said handing it to him, Oh and drive careful now. I’ll expect you and Rochelle for dinner Sunday after mass at St. Claire’s. Rochelle good luck tomorrow… Oh and Peter, that was a great job with the TD earlier. I better go. Chad said forgetting about his citation book.

Hey Sergeant. Peter yelled Chad returned.

Yes Peter? Chad asked.

You forgot your cite book and pen. You’ll try to get me for theft next. Peter handed back the items, and why are you out this late? Aren’t you usually A-Shift or something? You seem not yourself tonight.

Oh, that…rather long story…any way, since I was just recently promoted, I have to work the D-Shift for three weeks until the night supervisor returns from vacation, and Lily just told me that she is pregnant again with number four before I came out tonight. Chad said, I better let you go.

Jesus, I thought you left all your bullets in Nam. Or are you just a glutton for punishment? Peter teased.

Chad chuckled, Oh, I’m just a glutton. This most recent, makes number six I’ve sired… I’m getting too old for this stuff.

Number six? Uncle Chad, you need to get out of the heat. You’ve only sired Savannah, and Latisha, and Aisha; and then there are your two step-kids Harry, and Suzette. This only makes four. Rochelle stated in a confused voice again.

Wow, would you look at the time? Chad asked abruptly changing the subject, You best be getting along. Drive carefully now. He said bidding a hasty retreat to his motor and then driving off.

How odd? Rochelle said?

How’s that sis? Peter asked.

He was holding something back. I heard it in his voice. Peter, do you feel that weirdness about him too? Rochelle asked taking Peter aback, It’s almost like he’s more than our Uncle at times. You know?

No. Why would you say something like that sis? he asked. He’s our father Michel’s brother. We had to be adopted or something, unless he had something with mom back in the hippie days. You’re paranoid Rochelle. Peter said driving off

The van pulled into a dirty driveway that led to a little farmhouse. There was a CHP motorcycle and a vehicle obviously belonging to St. Clair’s convent setting in front of a barn. To their right, there was a long wooden corral fence that, had there been light, would have opened to expose a lush green pasture with a nice 1988 Ford half-ton parked on the other side of the barn, whose driveway made a small circle to the main dirt driveway.

On the left was a small vegetable garden. By Peter’s headlights, the garden had seen better days considering this was around the last of October, but to the left of the field was a nice field of late summer something. Peter parked outside the lit barn, where a tawny haired-thirty something male and a slightly older than middle aged nun—exited with baskets and buckets of farm goods wearing aprons over their uniforms.

Jon, the kids are home.—Hey guys. So… said the nun.

Mary Catherine we won! One more win, and we’re in the state game! Trevor said as the Baker children exited along with Peter.

That’s wonderful! Mary Catherine said.

Peter thanks for bringing them home. Jon asked.

It isn’t a problem Jon. Rochelle, and I are heading to grandfather’s anyway. He doesn’t live far from here. Peter said.

Hey Rochelle.—Hey why are you late? Jon asked.

Oh, Peter said pulling out the citation, Courtesy of Uncle Chad. He showed the two officers, there goes my clean record.

Jon chuckled. He’s having a bad day. But you were speeding…well technically…no seat belt. Jon said making a face. I don’t know if I should trust you driving my children home again. Jon teased as he handed it back.

It’s not funny Jon. Peter said.

No, it really isn’t, but that’s how he’s always been. Reminds me of a partner I once had the pleasure of working with. He’s always been nit-picky. Your mannerisms at times remind me a great deal of him, but it’s probably hereditary. He is your uncle. Jon said.

I must be going. I must drive to Grandpa’s yet to get mom. I’ll talk to you later.—Hey before I go, I wanted to ask you. We’re having a little get-together at our place during homecoming weekend, next weekend, would it be okay if they could go? Peter said reentering his vehicle.

I’ll have to run it by Mary Catherine. They do know how to ask. Do they have the information? Jon asked.

Yes sir, I was telling them about it on the drive here. Any one of them could probably inform you about it.

Well we’ll see and let one of them know to get back with you. There is storm predicted for next weekend so we’ll have to see. Jon said.

Okay Mr. B. Later. Peter said driving away.

Mary Catherine saw the back of the van as it left the farm.

Hey Jon, does he know his driver side taillight is out as well as the brake light in the window? She asked.

Chad got them for that too, mom, Jon said. Have I ever thanked you for putting your career on hold to help me raise them?

Mary Catherine’s voice becomes more naturally British, "Jr, it’s what a mother does, dearie. I know you loved her, and I know those children mean the world to you. That was not a good cycle for them to be exposed to. You gave the governments involved hell to keep and raise them. Juliana was never going to contest, despite her family issues, she loves those children.

I still say Catherine’s hiding something. Ever since she started going to that summer camp, she’s come home with symptoms of PTSD. I’ll figure out what it is. You know that’s why she keeps herself overly busy.

The following Monday morning, Catherine met her two friends, Tim and Peter in Chemistry class first period. Tim Guard, Peter Roulette, and Catherine were the Larry, Curly and Moe of Mr. Sergeant Slaughter’s chemistry class at Garfield High.

Tim had aged a mere eighteen years, stood a hefty six foot two and three quarters tall, and he had wheat brown hair. He had the prettiest ashen brown eyes, and there was an inherent mischievous look about his face.

The trio clambered around their lab table with smirks as the bell rang.

Hey guys, I swiped some stuff out of Chemo’s cabinet. We could mix it and light it up and set old Ms. Boring in history up today. Peter said with a straight face as the others laughed and Tim delivered him a good smack.

Would you shut up? You are so bad. While we’re at it, do you think you have enough of that stuff to light up the sisters at your grandfather’s convent? Tim teased.

Oh, you don’t have to do that, just take the November issue of Playgirl in there and they’d pepper right up.—you don’t want to know what they say about you Tim. Catherine teased, and Tim chuckled.

What are you laughing at Mr. Stud muffin? I’ve heard of your sordid tales with that exchange student from England Veronica What’s-her-face. Catherine teased as Tim’s face took on a frustrated look.

Whatever. You’re funny this morning. Vernoica and I? You need to check your sources. Tim said rather perturbed as Mr. Sergeant Slaughter, a teacher in his sixties, who has graying sandy-colored hair, a wide nose, and deep-set eyes, entered and diverted the class’s attention to him and started class.

There were four sections of of red and gold in the stadium stands, most of which were the Garfield Guardian fall sports teams. Those on the fall teams were decorated as crazy fans at a professional football game. Some were shirtless with red, and gold smeared all over their chests, as some donned red and gold face paint with Catherine’s football number, seventy-four, all over them, and yes, there was even members of the football team with stupid rubber number one gloves and crazy helmets and head gear.

The score on the board indicated that the Guardians had beaten the Bernardino Badgers. They had earned a slot in the state playoffs. The fall teams rushed the field as the Badgers were making their way back to their locker room and hoisted members of the football team, including Catherine, onto their shoulders.

Within the maze of red and gold was a Khaki colored highway patrolmen, and a nun; Jon and Mary Catherine, who watched with smiles and applause.

When Catherine exited, she found Mary Catherine talking to Coach Potter. She went over to them.

Hello, Coach Potter said you were here to give me a ride home. Cat said with a disappointed grumble.

Well, actually, your father wished me to speak with you about this get-together Peter is working tomorrow as it is St. Clair’s bingo night.—Is it speakeasy event, or did the sisters know? I live there, and I didn’t know. Mary Catherine said.

It was Sister Agnes who suggested it, at least that’s what Peter’s said, Catherine said.

She did huh?

Yes. She and Bernice, and other lovey ladies will be helping at bingo. It was only going to be for a few short hours. Chase, Gabrielle, and Anthony will be chaperoning.

I was a teen once myself. You’ll respect the rule? At times you, Tim, and Peter have no concept of rules at times. Mary Catherine teased.

Grandmother that’s not true and you know it! Peter and I are just friends; we haven’t been dating since freshman year. Besides Peter and I always respect the rules…even if we don’t always follow them. I can’t help it if I come by it honestly, Cat said lightly.

Really? Mary Catherine raised a brow. I seem to remember a time when you and Peter decided to borrow your father’s 1965 mint-condition candy apple red mustang convertible, and it somehow, magically drove itself into a tree in the Santa Monica Mountains and overturned. We found you two… Mary Catherine started.

Did daddy really have to arrest us that night? You’re starting to give me a headache. Cat said full of dread.

Chapter 2

Bad Karma

Chase Roulette, a strapping young lad of thirty-five, with signature Roulette jet hair, and a nice French American look about him, sat on the sofa in the common room of St. Clair’s Convent, with a couple nuns, his sister Gabrielle, his twin in every way but gender, and her handsome Native American boyfriend, Anthony. Anthony, a gorgeous Native American, with signature Navajo attributes. On the television, a news story played about an out-of-control wildfire in the area.

Oh, dear me, Chase, an African American goddess said as she handed Chase a bottle of Clearly Canadian. Doesn’t Catherine, Trevor, and Tim live in that direction?

Thank you, Josephine, Chase said taking the drink, "They do. Jon called and said that he and Tim’s dad had to work traffic control in the area for evacuation. Tim and Trevor will be sharing Peter’s room this evening, and Mary Catherine said that Catherine can have her room. She’s stuck at the old Lavender Studios sound stages, on the other side of the fire.

***

An intense gunfight ensues. Catherine and Tim are dodging unfriendly fire in an area with snow covered mountains and Edelweiss.

Cat, how are you doing? Tim asks as Catherine uses some nearby nature landmarks for cover

I’ve been better…the wind is coming from the north; we need to lose these guys before this blizzard hits. Why did they send us here again? We were supposed to be on a mission in Hawaii, but no…go to the Alps…it’ll be an easy mission they said… Damn that summer camp we attended. Catherine states and continues shooting in the direction of the unfriendly fire.

An explosion sounds off in the distance. Screams of injured echo off the mountainsides

What is this? mission 186? Cat asks

Tim smiles, 200, I think

Cat pauses, takes cover, thinks for a moment. Then resumes with a gusto. That’s right, I forgot the Heidelberg extraction…they sent us in for the young prince, that one nearly killed us. This Sebastian guy is an asshole… she says still shooting as the enemy starts flanking, We gotta move…they’re flanking us…any more grenades or gadgets?

Nope. I think I saw a small cottage in that direction, the wind is starting to whip up pretty good. We need to find some sort of shelter before night…they won’t be following us for long.. He uses an electronic prototype gadget, locates a structure nearby as is noticeable by a blip on the map on the display. Catherine reloads her clip a bit too loudly What the hell, I’m almost out. She said as she clips last of her ammo as they moved, they both break into a sprint and trip on some rocks. They both tumble down the hill a bit as their pursuers walks right past them, not bothering to look down. You okay Tim? Summer camp counselors.

They look at each other and smile. They hop to their feet and move as quickly as they can, using something to wipe their footprints. At some distance, a Bavarian cottage, that seemingly inspired Hansel and Gretal, comes into view. They make their way to it, and they check the perimeter and enter the premises.

Upon entering, they notice dusty furniture coverings, and they feel chills of creepiness crawl up their spines. They take some moments to clear the cottage in special ops style and look outside.

Well, it’s cozy… Holy shit, the snow is up to the bottom of this window already! Catherine states.

They take off their gear and check the cottage for rations tossing fake passports with aliases—one of her documents exposes an alias for her of Hanna Grey. A small cloud of dust rises with each thud, as another item—with no practical use—is thrown on it.

Well, time to explore…keep your weapon close, she said.

Check that. Tim said in agreement.

They both start to pillage the cottage, making a small fire.

The blowing snow should offer some cover from our smoke. Catherine states, as Tim finishes the small fire. Catherine holds two very thin wool blankets. I found these; they won’t be much good through this sort of storm. She tosses one to Tim, They’ll have to do. Tim catches it and takes off his gloves, trying to warm his hands.

Catherine abruptly awakes in a cold sweat. She throws the covers from her and made her way to the kitchen for a cup of decaf herbal tea to calm her rattling body. She found a half empty bottle of sacramental wine, opened it, and drank from the bottle.

Burns just enough to dull the pain, doesn’t it Catherine? Tim said from the doorway where he was propped up.

Tim, Cat said trying to hide the bottle and chokes.

Sorry, if I startled you.—Oh, I needed some fresh air. Those bean burritos they had for dinner down there created an illegal form of noxious gas. I don’t think they make a mask strong enough for it. Besides, nature was calling.—Mind if I join you? It might help me to knock myself out so I can sleep in that stuff? Tim asked as she pointed and shrugged.

I won’t say anything if you don’t. She said drinking and handed it off to him, and he took a long swallow

Still having those dreams I see. You need professional mental help Catherine. Don’t take that the wrong way, he said mainly out of concern than anything, Words can’t express…what happened in that cottage. he said…

Tim, we did what we had to do to survive. Both of us took those critical shots. You know, as well as I, a few centimeters in either direction. We were dead. We both went into shock. It was either do that that, or we’d probably passed out and died. You know as well as I that help did come, but after the fact. I’m retiring December 31. Cat said in a furious whisper as she took another swallow.

You know that I would never have… Tim started taking the bottle and swallowing. I know I had to have hurt you. Tim started.

I honestly don’t remember. I was about gone. I remember hearing you say: And of this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher. That is why I am suffering as I am. Yet this is no cause for shame because I know whom I have believed and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day. What you heard from me, keep as the pattern of sound teaching, with faith and love in Christ Jesus. Guard the good deposit that I entrust, now, to you. I remember your deposit, but then, as God is my witness. I think we both passed out from shock. It was our shot in the dark to survive. We woke up in that hospital in Spatial Grabs, Switzerland both looking like death warmed over.

Tim, I’d have rather lost that, than my life. You kept it as professional as you could. We’ve taken our share of bullets, but that, that was… she makes a face and shakes her head.

I hear you. Gabrielle is going to shit bricks when she learns we both of us are out. Catherine looks at him in surprise, Oh yea, I’m out too. We’ve been doing this, shit for five years. I’ve seen more than I ever wish to see; I’ve killed more than my fair share, hell, I only went to that camp to give you a friend, and Trevor didn’t wish to go. He turns the bottle upside down, Looks like we finished the bottle, Tequila Sunrise, Tim stated with a partner smile and tossed the bottle. Good night, Catherine. he said with a professional partner kiss and left.

Good night, Fireball, she said in courteous professional partner fashion.

She fell asleep immediately upon returning to the bed. Tim walked by the room and noticed her in another night terror. He quickly went to her as he heard her spouting orders as thought they were on a mission.

Catherine, Tequila, you need to wake up, Tim said wrapping his arms around her to get her to stop thrashing about. He was a partner who knew his partner well, and she eventually woke up.

Tim, what are you doing in here? She asked sleepily as he honestly answered her.

I was just passing by the room, and I saw that your covers were on the floor, and I thought to put them back on you and leave, his actions followed his words, See.

Oh, thanks Tim, you’re such a good friend. She said as she gave him a little peck.

Well, goodnight, he said simply and started to leave. Something came over him and stopped him. He looked to the bed, and a memory assailed him.

Tim thinks himself delusional as he sees a slightly older version of himself in the uniform of a solder from WWII in an Allied Powers uniform manifest in front of him, in full combat gear of the day. He pauses momentarily. His face full of fear, worry, mixed emotions as he does what he must to save his professional partner. There are pans with blood and bullets about and first aid gauze and wrap strewn about the place. Both Tim and Catherine are succumbing to shock from their wounds when the specter of the WWII soldier comes into view.

What seems to be the problem? The specter says

She’s in shock. I’ve tried everything. I’ve been able to maintain her pulse but it’s weak this was not how I wished to… Who are you?

Lose something precious to you. You wished to do as Beatrice-my daughter—taught you. Or at least do the very best you could have to keep the promise you made to her. My name is Matthew. Matthew said in gentle fatherly tone, Hey, look at me, he said in firm but loving fatherly tones, "stuff happens…no rhyme or reason, but it’s all part of God’s plan. Now, while I can’t answer why God created the conditions for this, he has his reasons. I have no idea why I pushed Heddy out of the way and took the bullet meant for her, never getting to meet my second daughter. I didn’t think, I just did. Sometimes, not thinking and just doing is the best plan, as bad as it is, God puts at our disposal. It’s the only option he gives.

Look at me, Timothy, my dear grandson: Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord. I thank God, whom I serve, as my ancestors did, with a clear conscience, as night and day I constantly remember you and your mother in my prayers. Matthew states as he rubs his face in a gingerly grandfatherly way, Recalling your tears, I long to see you, so that I may be filled with joy. I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother…and in your mother…and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also. For this reason, I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God… For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. You need this. The gift he wishes to bestow will bring you the much-needed self-discipline mentor, as he did my first daughter. So, like me, you are. A good boy, a bit challenging at times, but has always made life interesting. With a sense of dry humor like your father with your mother’s love of practical jokes. You bring the life to the party. A bit reckless at times; why stop being who you are now?… Do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner. Rather, join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God. He has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. Matthew Timothy, he has a purpose for placing you two into this position, at this moment in time. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. Matthew states as he turns into a whisp and floats away.

And of this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher. That is why I am suffering as I am. Tim states gathering courage to save her from the brink of death in the most sacrificial way possible. She opens her eyes as though she were some princess from a fairy tale when the prince kisses her. He continues, a wry smile upon his face that she has returned, Yet this is no cause for shame, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day. What you heard from me, keep as the pattern of sound teaching, with faith and love in Christ Jesus. Tim smiles down to Catherine, happy that she is opening her eyes. As she opens her eyes, he sees himself with a smiling, happy, red head, that changes his face from despair for his partner’s well-being and brings in a white light to his face. Guard the good deposit that I entrust, now, to you, he states as Catherine sees the same reflecting

Do it, she states as she shakes her head—more for broken promises to herself like him, You’re in pain. You’ve made this as professional as you could have. Do that which you need to end the pain I see in your face… It’s such a shitty situation. They both have tears

Guard it with the help of the Holy Spirit who lives in us. Tim states as his delivery is upon them both

I will do my best to guard it with the help of the Holy Spir.. It. Her eyes shut tight, she opens them, and their eyes fixate on each other, and they hear a child’s laughter filter to them on angel wings from somewhere in the universe. So warm… I’ll share with you… She says as they both pass out for their injuries, fall unconscious, and a white light encapsulates them, and then shoots up through the ceiling.

As he goes to fix her covers, her mouth finds his. Their hands probe clothes. She then felt his kiss traveling down her body.

Tim, she managed to get out in a raspy breath.

His mouth pressed passionately onto hers and his kisses drifted down her body She let out a sound of pure delight. He traveled up her body once more, and his hands fumbled as he gently brushed her clothing from her body, and then he caressed. Following up with ravenous hunger as he reached her breasts and took them into his mouth, she again let out of sounds of joy. Tim, then, grabbed her, and kissed her down upon the bed His manly but boyish chest suppressed hers.

He pressed his lips to hers and his tongue probed and explored the depths of her mouth…

The morning sun shone itself at 5:45 AM, and Tim awakened from its light, with a slight hangover. He found himself lying next to Catherine in the bed, they were both in a state of intimate undress, and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He quickly shot up.

Not again, Fuck… I’ve got to get out of here. Catherine, I’m so sorry, he said as he found his clothes and started to put them on, please forgive me.

Catherine sits up, with the sheet around hersef, Nothing is to be forgiven. It happens. Her mind swirled and whirled. I wish this room would stop spinning! she yelled scaring him both. I need a drink! She took the cover, gathered her clothing, and stormed off to the restroom.

A resounding thud came from the bathroom. He rushed to investigate, and Tim found Catherine had lost her balance and landed headfirst onto the bathroom sink and floor taking half of the contents of the counter with her. Her head hit the toilet, and in an automatic response, she threw up.

Oh, couldn’t you have tried the toilet? Tim asked as vomit now covered his linoleum floor. A wave of nausea inundated him, and he sang his praises to the porcelain god.

Did I eat that? Those burritos last night must have been potent. He said with a flush, I best go see if there is something I can clean this up wi… He makes another beeline for the toilet, vomits again, and flushes.

Peter knocks on the door, Is everything alright in there? I heard a loud noise.

Shit, where are my clothes Tim?—Here are your things, she says as she shoves them into his hands, and she looks around. The window.

The window!? Tim whispered in surprise. You do know we’re on the second floor?

There’s a trellis Romeo. Get moving, she whispered throwing something on, and pushing him out the window.

Catherine, Peter knocks again, Is everything alright in there? She quickly opens the door, and suspiciously closes it to buy Tim time to get away.

Hey, Peter. Everything is fine. I woke up and stubbed my toe on Mary Catherine’s dresser and some items fell and crashed upon my head.

Is your toe, okay? I can get ice or a bandage…crashed upon your head? Peter said.

It’ll be fine but thank you, but items did hit my head and I threw up a bit. Is there a mop so I can clean Mary Catherine’s restroom?

Let me see how bad it is, Peter said trying to enter. She quickly opened the door and entered the room and shut the door. She checked for traces of Tim, she didn’t see any, and she opened the door and permitted Peter inside.

Once inside, Peter does a quick once over, and then walks into the restroom.

Good Heavens Catherine, this is quite the mess, he said coming from the restroom, I’ll check the custodial closet and return soon He senses something and looks at her in a bizarre manner.

Why do you look at me so, Peter? She asks

No, reason in particular, let me get those items. He said as he leaves her.

The Garfield High gymnasium was decorated in red and gold streamers with homecoming dance signs. Catherine entered with Peter as her date; Tim entered with a milk chocolate female, Lola, and they were soon followed by Trevor and his girlfriend, Rochelle.

Hey, one of the football team members came over to Catherine and her party.

Hey Trey, what’s up? Catherine asked.

Oh, a bunch of us are throwing our own party in Griffith Park afterwards. Would you like to come?—Trevor, I heard they are letting you take the school camera out for the yearbook. Trey said.

Yea Trey, they are. Is this an illegal party? Trevor asked.

It’s as legal as it could possibly be. Why? Trey asked.

Oh, it’s just our parents. We are supposed to be home by midnight, or they’ll come and find us and arrest us for breaking curfew…and they will arrest us. Trevor said.

I see. Mommy and daddy making your decisions for you again. Trey snapped as Catherine jumped up; Peter held her back down.

I think you best get your drunken ass out of our face. Peter threatened and shielded Catherine, You don’t want to get her dander up. Even I know that. Trey knew Peter’s tone well. It was quite eerie; much like Chad Birmingham’s when he meant business.

So, I’ll see you there then? Trey asked as he left.

Peter, why did you just do that? Catherine asked.

He shrugged, I don’t know. It was rather a weird feeling.

It’s called jealousy, Trevor said.

No, I don’t think so. It was as if something called to me to protect her…weird. He said as he led Catherine on the dance floor

Trey sneaked past the dancers on the floor and picked open the sports equipment storage facility with some cronies.

Is the coast clear Charlie? he asked a crony.

Yea, they are all dancing… Charlie said.

Lester, keep sentry for us? Trey asked.

Sure thing. Lester said as he stationed his broad frame outside the door. A few minutes later, Trey came out with a couple of bats, shut the door quietly, and they made their way outside; where they took their frustration out on the windows of several cars, including the ones in which the Roulette’s and the Baker’s arrived.

Peter was walking Catherine out to their car after the dance when they noticed the windshields and side windows of their vehicle had been busted.

Holy shit! was all that Tim could muster. Who could have done this?

Give me your keys Tim. It’s him. You know who I speak of, Catherine said as she grabbed the keys from Tim’s hands and went over to his monster truck and entered. Peter, Trevor, Tim, and Rochelle jumped into the back of the truck, and she drove like a bat flying from hell.

Their journey soon found them in Griffith Park where high school students were holding an illegal party. Catherine slammed the truck into park and found Trey putting moves on a cheerleader.

Hey Ramirez Catherine said as she gave him a right cross knocking him back. He got up and advanced towards Catherine.

You are such a stuck-up bitch Baker. And you suck at football, Trey said as he gave Catherine a push. Skills of Jane Bond, sister of James Bond, manifested in Catherine.

Protect your Queen a voice had to Peter said in haunting tones only to him. He saw her look and backed off.

Before he could blink, Catherine came up behind Trey and swept his leg causing him to fall. He hit his head on the cold hard ground.

Well look here, the bitch woke up. Trey said as he grabbed Catherine’s foot and threw her off balance, and she purposely fell onto Peter, she put Trey into a wrestling hold and pinned him in a few seconds and started punching him in the back and in the head.

Catherine, I think that’s enough. Tim said trying to pull her from him with Peter.

You are such an asshole! she continued as she kept throwing him about.

Catherine, he’s not worth it. Came Trevor’s soft voice. She looked up into his face with tears, Catherine, let’s go home. He’s not worth getting you benched for the championship games.

She smacked his head back down and left him, going to Tim and Peter. We’ll not have this conversation again. Trevor said in an eerie voice of finality.

We best go. You don’t need any bad blood with your parents guys. Peter said in serious concerned tones as he tried to walk them away.

Trey leveled a loaded gun at Peter. Catherine saw the weapon, and masterfully disarmed him in movements so crispy smooth it was second nature. In the struggle, she was able to have him fire upon himself in the abdomen. Trey staggered back. Before he knew it; a single shot hit him in the middle of his head. He fell forward in a dead heap at her feet.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the crowd. The only noises heard were night songs of frogs and other nature critters

Let’s get out of here… Tim said as the Bakers and Roulette’s piled into his truck and drove away.

Chapter 3

Epoch

Federal agents expanded Griffith Park. Gabrielle Roulette came from the bushes wearing FBI-identifying attire carrying evidence. Her supervisor and a handful of agents were at Trey’s body.

Captain, I told you my sources were good. We’ve been looking for Trey. Gabrielle said as she handed off the evidence contents to a nearby specialist, Trey is…well was, Zahel and Sebastian Radcliffe’s son.

The supervisor completed a double take of surprise, Trey Radcliffe…as in the current Queen of Liechtenstein’s great grandson?

That’s the one. The chatter for the past few months has been they’re coming for the heirs. Gabrielle started

Trey is the heir. This doesn’t make any sense. The supervisor stated.

Trey isn’t the heir. They’re coming for the children of Agent Baker. Gabrielle started.

By the look on the supervisor’s face, it was as though lightening had struck him unexpectedly.

Surely, they can’t be that old by now. The supervisor said.

The oldest will be eighteen in a few months’ time. That’s the age that she will no longer need a regent. Gabrielle said, That is the age at which she can properly ascend. We all know the reputation of Queen Selma… Oh shit, here comes my nephew and the other LEOs. I’ll return. Gabrielle said walking away as the supervisor finished up with Trey’s remains.

This is our jurisdiction. Turn around. she said firmly as Chad Birmingham arrived

What the hell happened here? Gabrielle? Chad asked as he saw them zip the body of Trey in the body bag and take him off.

My informant told me that I would be able to find Mr. Holman here about two hours ago. He told the informant that there was a big party here tonight, which was the rouse that I used to lure Trey out. Glad to see it worked. But, I didn’t expect to have to kill him. Gabrielle said. Do me this one favor please Chad and get them out of here. Your men don’t want a part of this; this actually is too dangerous for us, but the CIA wouldn’t take it. Gabrielle said

CIA, what the hell? he asked as she spoke up. Why would an agency as big as the CIA be interested in this? It’s a random drug shooting, now, the DEA I could see.

Lieutenant Birmingham, I answered that question! she said in tones that asserted her governmental authority, You and your officers are officially dismissed. she said as Chad shooed off the other authorities.

Fine! But I will find out about this, Chad said.

Really? You want to find out about this? This was the handy work of Tequila Sunrise, White Russian, Kahlua, and Fireball. She leans in close and in a threatening manner, trust me when I say, you and your men want no part of this. This goes beyond the CIA. This…is…a global matter. This will be shifted to intelligence sectors of Interpol as soon as they arrive… Gabrielle stated as agents from Interpol arrived, Speaking of the calvary… Hi Ho Silver, away. Graciously presents Interpol agents, and she sends him off.

Mary Catherine checks Jon’s house and sees no one. She enters Catherine’s bedroom. The door she goes to is clearly early 90’s teen geeked out with propaganda from gorgeous male teen idols to magazine photos, and a bit sign that says, Off-Limits with a weird UFO sticker. Mary Catherine enters the room, in a parent on a mission mode. She quickly checks drawers and any other possible hiding area and finds Catherine’s rucksack, a suspicious military backpack, Kevlar, and suitcases with false bottoms. She opens them all. The contents surprise her. She dumps the contents upon the bed, she finds no less than 12 false passports, various forms of money from several countries, small caliber weapons, and a pregnancy test registering positive.

She comes straight from our rears, Hanna Grey, Sally Henson, Angelique Pierre, Katja Rinkov, Adelheid Zimmerman, she says to herself reading the false passports and tossing them back to the bed. She opens a nice suitcase that has missing objects, Nice weapons, she continues as she plays with them for a few moments to get their feel and starts to stash them upon her person, Girl knows her stuff—This one is exceptionally nice, she states as she tosses around a nice handgun. Catherine enters returning from the park incident, Mary Catherine hides the weapon quickly

GRANDMA, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING GOING THROUGH MY STUFF! Catherine starts

SIT DOWN SUNRISE! I meant, sunshine. Mary Catherine starts in British tones Catherine knows well. What’s a little good girl like you, holding big secrets like this? holding up the test.

Catherine intentionally tries a redirect, Where did that accent come from?

A purposeful redirect, Tequila Sunrise, Mary Catherine reads from something, A tequila sunrise is quite delicious. My, you’ve got to do better than that dear. What accent?

Catherine retorts in a good British accent, Whatever do you mean? What accent? The accent in which you spoke to me currently. It’s a trifle bit of distraction really, your attempt to catch me unawares. Are you fishing?

Mary Catherine looks at her, with the look of someone that knows this sort of game well, Are we going to do this, then?

Catherine continues the accent as a distracting play, What is it we’re going to do, then? Please tell me, what it is we’re going to do, because this is all utterly confusing at this moment.—This is not an accent?

Mary Catherine purposefully changes languages to German, Sie wissen, dass ich in London aufgewachsen bin.

Catherine responds in solid German, Haben Sie das jetzt? So wie ich es verstehe, bist du überall in Europa aufgewachsen, außer in London.

Mary Catherine purposefully changes languages, and Catherine speaks her response in whatever language Mary Catherine speaks. After a few rounds of multiple languages, and Catherine’s professional tactics.

ENOUGH! Mary Catherine exclaims. We need to talk about, she pulls the test registering positive, This. Girl, please tell me this isn’t yours.

I wish I could, Catherine said, entering her