| Supernatural Fiction posted July 6, 2011 | Chapters: |
...8 9 -10- 
|
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The Trio Battles to Stay Alive
A chapter in the book The Glass Cat Eye
Eye of the Witch
by amahra
(Chapter Ten)
The Trio Battles to Stay Alive
It had grown dark in the room. Only the thinly scattered waves of light from Doc’s enchanted candle burned; his incantation produced a soft, crystal-like substance that reflected off the ceiling and formed an invisible shield around him–a ten foot diameter globe that moved when he moved. This supernatural armor, tough like dragon scales, would prove crucial in warding off explosive attacks from a long distance. To prevent invisible assaults, Doc would conjure Darkness Walls that could absorb energies of ghostly entities and turn their energies into optical light–making them tangible targets.
Lima, an awesome demon, would prove a most deadly opponent; summoned here from Tartarus, an abyss of torture, he roamed as a lesser demon from a minor legion that patrolled the River Styx. His powerful breath weapon projected electricity that could destroy flesh and bone in seconds. In close combat, he possessed poison abilities, including two inch fangs and retractable claws. His venomous spit could consume the hardest metals. No magic could destroy him. To defeat Lima, Connelly needed only to stay alive, permanently spell banishing him from the realm, and seal the portal behind him.
Doc collected his enchanted weapons, including two powerful Talismans: a Tomb Ring and an Eye of the Cock crystal–a symbol of Christ’s resurrection; it was said that ancient soldiers carried the Eye into battle and fought with overpowering strength because they believed they could not die. Doc slid the Tomb Ring on his pointing finger, placed the weapons in a leather bag and fastened it to the green robe cord around his waist.
If he were killed, Azi Dahaka would appear as a nine foot, dark-skinned man with two fang cobras springing from his shoulders and, with a halo of eyes surrounding his scaly head. A Lord from his own realm, he would come with an entourage of spirits to attend his supernatural needs. His earthly appetite for blood would be insatiable: eating the equivalent of five live cows a day and requiring numerous human sacrifices. No mortal could control him. No magic could banish him. Once he entered a realm, he stayed and ruled.
Doc concluded his meditation of faith; he kissed the wooden cross that lay against his pounding chest and began the short journey. He slowly, methodically descended the stairway, his long golden robe with red trim–softly clearing each stone step behind him. Connelly faced the large wooded door at the end of the short hallway and opened it. He stood majestically, unblinking–unwavering and starred into the darkness.
There–in the eerie silence, Lima, unseen by the human eye, guarded the sacred portal. Doc moved slowly to the center of the underground level; he stopped a few yards short and just outside of the large Ouija Board ornament on the floor. The Eye of the Cock rested snugly in his left palm. The dark held a deathly chill, and he became aware of the demon’s presence. Standing in front of the gothic design, Connelly felt alone and his hands trembled, but he quickly dismissed his weakness by pointing his Talisman finger and incanting loudly.
“Sararta Morsmorde!”
Straight away, a thunderous noise grew overhead as dark smoky squares tumbled one-by-one and hung suspended in mid-air, like individual chalk boards. The conjured black squares descended and swelled against the original walls–replacing them.
Then, a misty–like giant of a creature blinked in and out as his struggle against being cast into view was futile. Eight feet high, bulky and extremely muscular, stood fully visible, a serpent covered in scaly blue skin–crawling with vermin. He possessed the upper body of a man and a face of a cobra. At the end of two appendages, extended claw-like hands. His eye slits held black oval balls with irises of yellow that were as twin flames of a lit candle. The red forked tongue darted in and out of fang jaws, and when he hissed, it sounded as hot boiling steam from a locomotive.
Lima reared his head, shot it forward and blasted his breath. A stream of electricity bolted towards Doc in a blur. It hit the shield and skid him across the surface, but didn’t penetrate the armor. The second blast hoisted the shield high in the air and hurled it against the ceiling. After returning to ground, Doc quickly cast the grounding spell that would bound the shield to a mystical surface. The demon reared back and blew a blast that thundered against the armor; the massive hit roared above it, but the shield held firm. Doc countered with a spell that returned the demon’s own fire. The returning blast knocked Lima backwards on his massive tail that acted as the curved legs on a giant rocker. It dazed him, but did little else.
The creature cut loose another blast; Doc, pointing his Tomb Ring finger, countered with the same return fire incantation, but the demon raised his tail and hammered the bolt away–sending it flaming into mid air. The creature fired on him at will; the bolts were coming too numerous and too forceful for the shield to hold. Connelly could feel the heat. The protective shield began to feel like an inferno. Lima seemed to sense the damage, and stopped–leaned forward and spit. The venom covered the shield. Doc incanted and the shield rose; he crawled out from under it just in time, as the venom completely dissolved it in what seemed like seconds.
Connelly felt naked without the shield. The demon slithered in for the kill. Doc waited for the drooling mouth to widen and flung a vial of mystified water and watched it splash inside the massive jaws. He backed away as Lima tried in vain to use its breath and spit weapon. Enraged, he bared his fangs the more and shot out six inch claws. Doc held the Eye of the Cock tightly in one hand and his dagger in the other. He stood firm as Lima wriggled forward.
The nine inch blade turned a fiery red, like a hot poker and glowed. It extended itself far beyond its mere nine inches. The enchanted sword swished through the air vertically and slashed off a deadly claw. Lima let out a loud hiss that was nearly deafening. Reaching a boiling point over the lost of a claw, his yellow flaming eyes danced rigorously within the oval balls as he whipped his mighty claws horizontally through the air. Doc leaped to the side, but not before getting raked across his left shoulder.
“Aaarrh!” he yelled out in pain.
The sleeve hung shredded; blood trickled down his arm and dripped from the tips of his fingers. Satisfied with the strike, the demon struck again like lightning and sank his fangs deep into Doc–lifting him off the ground. It jarred the Eye and it slipped from his palm. High in the air, he gazed into the yellow flames of his adversary. His dilemma seemed precarious. Doc could feel the effects of the poison, like he was being cooked from the inside out. Without the power of the resurrection Eye, he would surely die.
Slowly, with barely enough strength, Doc gripped the last weapon from his bag. He tossed the fangs in the air; they hit the ground as sparks–then rose as three giant Mongoose. They towered over Lima. Out fang and out clawed, it dropped Doc from his massive jaws. The three ferocious snake fighters took turns ripping and biting the demon. They tore into him viciously, depleting him of precious energy for which he needed to remain in the earth’s realm.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Steven watched helplessly as Esther struggled against the hands that held her firm to the altar. Madame Reece stood over her with a ceremonial blade. She gripped it tightly with both hands and held it over Esther’s heart. The black cloaked and robed crowd looked on, anticipating breathlessly.
“Azi Dahaka Accio!” Madame commanded.
Suddenly, a distant deep hum permeated the air, like a thousand drum rolls, and the floor shook ever so gently. Madame lost her concencration as the hum got louder and louder and the floor shook more vigorously. Many in the crowd looked up and saw the hanging lamps swinging to and fro. Then small chunks punched out of the walls and powdery concrete spilled through the openings, like water leaking through cracks in a dam.
“What’s happening?” a voice rose from the crowd.
The hum deepened into a loud rumble and the floor vibrated like a mini earth quake. Small pieces of ceiling fell like a light rain.
“The house is coming apart!” another shouted.
One of the sorcerers closed her eyes and folded her hands over her chest as if she could sense something.
“The portal; it is closing,” the sorcerer said.
“Madame! Is that true?” asked a young follower.
“Impossible,” Madame said bewildered. “That mere idiot couldn’t have possibly defeated Lima.”
“Then it’s true?” shouted another from the crowd.
“Go, Doc, Go!” Steven shouted at the top of his voice as he snatched away from two goons. He shouted it several times until his voice cracked.
The rumble grew to a near deafening sound, like the engine roar of a jet plane flying too low to the ground. Everyone had to shout to hear each other. The floor shook violently and people fell over like duck pins. Screams rose above the roar as large blocks of stone crushed bodies. The massive stones blocked stairwells. Many were trampled to death when hundreds dashed for the few stairwells that remained. Madame Reece was abandoned; it was every man for himself. She rocked from side to side, unable to keep her balance. Esther wobbled to her feet–reached for the dagger and pulled it from Reece’s hand.
“You Bitch!” Esther shouted.
She cocked back then slammed her fist against Madame’s nose, sending her thudding to the floor. She lay there dazed. The floor cracked beneath her–opened up and swallowed her. Madame’s high pitched scream got little reaction from Esther, as it trailed off and was heard no more.
She ran over to Steven and saw that he was out cold. A portion of the ceiling had popped him on the head.
“Steve! Steve, get up!” she said, slapping him across the face several times.
He lifted his head and shook his eyes clear.
“Steve, come on. We’ve got to get out of here!”
After helping him lift himself, she grabbed his hand and the two made a mad dash for the stairwell. But he stopped.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Doc, we’ve got to find Doc!”
“No, Steve, we’ve got to get out of here.”
She grabbed Steven’s hand again and reluctantly he ran with her. The walls were falling in around them. They struggled to stay on their feet while stepping in blood–over dead bodies, away from live wiring and main water breaks. They choked on fumes from gas leaks–all the while ducking chunks of falling concrete. They tried desperately to maneuver around the cracks in the floor that were opening and gulping all in its path followed by screams as whole groups fell through. At the only remaining stairwell, Steven had to fight several followers before he and Esther could get through. They narrowly escaped being trampled under foot. The harsh push of the stampede broke his grip on Esther and she quickly disappear in the large crowd of confusion.
He fought his way back up the stairwell; it was as running uphill into an avalanch. He could hear Esther frantically calling his name. When he finally reached her, she pointed to an opening in the wall. They could see through it to the outside. He held on to her tightly as they forced their way through the mob that was going in the opposite direction. They reached the opening and Steven climbed out first, holding on to Esther. They managed to grab on to a large thick tree branch and made their way down to the ground. As they looked around, there was no one else in sight. They ran as far as they could from the house.
Falling exhausted on the grass, they held one another and watched in horror as the once tall mansion caved inward and crumbled into a large mass of cracked stones and sharp edge steel.
“Doc,” Steven said faintly as his face cracked into a cry.
Esther held his face and pressed it to her own moist cheek. As she held him, she noticed that the rain had stopped almost as suddenly as the house had crumbled. It was as though the two events meant something, she thought.
“Look!” Esther said, pointing to a rainbow. “I think God is telling us something,” she said half smiling.
Steven looked up, his eyes still blurry from tears.
“Yeah,” he said.
They sat for several minutes, bruised and battered. Esther nursed a small open gash on Steven’s head. They held one another and felt grateful for being alive. Steven reflected on the old man–wishing he could share his own moment of victory.
“What took you two lovebirds so long?”
They whipped around–their eyes as wide as doll’s eyes and watched an exhausted Connelly limp in from the shadows. His gold robe looked half shredded and streaked with blood; his bare left arm was stained scarlet. In his right hand, he gripped the Eye of the Cock. Doc looked to have aged ten years. But to them, he was beautiful.
“Doc! You’re alive!” Steven said running toward him–almost knocking him down. Esther joined him and made it a group hug.
“Doc, you did it. You did it,” Steven said grinning.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The three returned home, and like most people after a near-death experience, saw the world differently–like God, family and friends being the most important factors in one’s life. Doc kept in touch with them; they all vowed to be life-long friends. Doc decided to write a book on the experience and start his own lecturing circuit, but not before taking his wife, adult kids, their spouses and grandkids on an extended cruise to Europe and explore their Irish roots.
Esther returned to her faith as did Steven. Her parents were grateful to Steven and Doc for bringing their little girl home. The police never knew or were even interested in the real Madame Reece and UPC. They closed the book on Esther’s kidnapping and dismissed the UPC as a dangerous cult and Reece as a nut case–blaming the destruction of the mansion on a gas leak. Steven who was always close to his mom now bonded with his dad.
After spending a short time apart, Esther and Steven met for dinner at Kofi’s and then took a walk along the harbor. They hailed a water taxi and sailed along looking up at the stars.
“Esther, what where you and my mom talking about in the kitchen the other day?”
“Oh–girl talk,” she said smiling.
“Come on, I’m serious. Mom had that look. Anything I should know?”
“I just asked her the same question I’d asked my mom and got the same answer.”
“What?” Steven asked frowning.
“I asked her how she and your dad managed to stay married for so many years, while most of my friends' parents were divorced.”
“And she said?” Steven asked playfully.
“She said, for many years, she and your dad were best friends first.
“Ok,” Steven said like the answer was no big deal.
Esther turned to him, placed a hand on each of his shoulders and looked up at him.
“Steve, that’s.. us.”
Steven looked into her eyes, and for the first time, saw love staring back at him. He parted his lips and took her lips into his mouth as she did his; the wet warmth of his mouth made the world disappear. She pressed in–melted into his arms and moaned.
THE END
(Chapter Ten)
The Trio Battles to Stay Alive
It had grown dark in the room. Only the thinly scattered waves of light from Doc’s enchanted candle burned; his incantation produced a soft, crystal-like substance that reflected off the ceiling and formed an invisible shield around him–a ten foot diameter globe that moved when he moved. This supernatural armor, tough like dragon scales, would prove crucial in warding off explosive attacks from a long distance. To prevent invisible assaults, Doc would conjure Darkness Walls that could absorb energies of ghostly entities and turn their energies into optical light–making them tangible targets.
Lima, an awesome demon, would prove a most deadly opponent; summoned here from Tartarus, an abyss of torture, he roamed as a lesser demon from a minor legion that patrolled the River Styx. His powerful breath weapon projected electricity that could destroy flesh and bone in seconds. In close combat, he possessed poison abilities, including two inch fangs and retractable claws. His venomous spit could consume the hardest metals. No magic could destroy him. To defeat Lima, Connelly needed only to stay alive, permanently spell banishing him from the realm, and seal the portal behind him.
Doc collected his enchanted weapons, including two powerful Talismans: a Tomb Ring and an Eye of the Cock crystal–a symbol of Christ’s resurrection; it was said that ancient soldiers carried the Eye into battle and fought with overpowering strength because they believed they could not die. Doc slid the Tomb Ring on his pointing finger, placed the weapons in a leather bag and fastened it to the green robe cord around his waist.
If he were killed, Azi Dahaka would appear as a nine foot, dark-skinned man with two fang cobras springing from his shoulders and, with a halo of eyes surrounding his scaly head. A Lord from his own realm, he would come with an entourage of spirits to attend his supernatural needs. His earthly appetite for blood would be insatiable: eating the equivalent of five live cows a day and requiring numerous human sacrifices. No mortal could control him. No magic could banish him. Once he entered a realm, he stayed and ruled.
Doc concluded his meditation of faith; he kissed the wooden cross that lay against his pounding chest and began the short journey. He slowly, methodically descended the stairway, his long golden robe with red trim–softly clearing each stone step behind him. Connelly faced the large wooded door at the end of the short hallway and opened it. He stood majestically, unblinking–unwavering and starred into the darkness.
There–in the eerie silence, Lima, unseen by the human eye, guarded the sacred portal. Doc moved slowly to the center of the underground level; he stopped a few yards short and just outside of the large Ouija Board ornament on the floor. The Eye of the Cock rested snugly in his left palm. The dark held a deathly chill, and he became aware of the demon’s presence. Standing in front of the gothic design, Connelly felt alone and his hands trembled, but he quickly dismissed his weakness by pointing his Talisman finger and incanting loudly.
“Sararta Morsmorde!”
Straight away, a thunderous noise grew overhead as dark smoky squares tumbled one-by-one and hung suspended in mid-air, like individual chalk boards. The conjured black squares descended and swelled against the original walls–replacing them.
Then, a misty–like giant of a creature blinked in and out as his struggle against being cast into view was futile. Eight feet high, bulky and extremely muscular, stood fully visible, a serpent covered in scaly blue skin–crawling with vermin. He possessed the upper body of a man and a face of a cobra. At the end of two appendages, extended claw-like hands. His eye slits held black oval balls with irises of yellow that were as twin flames of a lit candle. The red forked tongue darted in and out of fang jaws, and when he hissed, it sounded as hot boiling steam from a locomotive.
Lima reared his head, shot it forward and blasted his breath. A stream of electricity bolted towards Doc in a blur. It hit the shield and skid him across the surface, but didn’t penetrate the armor. The second blast hoisted the shield high in the air and hurled it against the ceiling. After returning to ground, Doc quickly cast the grounding spell that would bound the shield to a mystical surface. The demon reared back and blew a blast that thundered against the armor; the massive hit roared above it, but the shield held firm. Doc countered with a spell that returned the demon’s own fire. The returning blast knocked Lima backwards on his massive tail that acted as the curved legs on a giant rocker. It dazed him, but did little else.
The creature cut loose another blast; Doc, pointing his Tomb Ring finger, countered with the same return fire incantation, but the demon raised his tail and hammered the bolt away–sending it flaming into mid air. The creature fired on him at will; the bolts were coming too numerous and too forceful for the shield to hold. Connelly could feel the heat. The protective shield began to feel like an inferno. Lima seemed to sense the damage, and stopped–leaned forward and spit. The venom covered the shield. Doc incanted and the shield rose; he crawled out from under it just in time, as the venom completely dissolved it in what seemed like seconds.
Connelly felt naked without the shield. The demon slithered in for the kill. Doc waited for the drooling mouth to widen and flung a vial of mystified water and watched it splash inside the massive jaws. He backed away as Lima tried in vain to use its breath and spit weapon. Enraged, he bared his fangs the more and shot out six inch claws. Doc held the Eye of the Cock tightly in one hand and his dagger in the other. He stood firm as Lima wriggled forward.
The nine inch blade turned a fiery red, like a hot poker and glowed. It extended itself far beyond its mere nine inches. The enchanted sword swished through the air vertically and slashed off a deadly claw. Lima let out a loud hiss that was nearly deafening. Reaching a boiling point over the lost of a claw, his yellow flaming eyes danced rigorously within the oval balls as he whipped his mighty claws horizontally through the air. Doc leaped to the side, but not before getting raked across his left shoulder.
“Aaarrh!” he yelled out in pain.
The sleeve hung shredded; blood trickled down his arm and dripped from the tips of his fingers. Satisfied with the strike, the demon struck again like lightning and sank his fangs deep into Doc–lifting him off the ground. It jarred the Eye and it slipped from his palm. High in the air, he gazed into the yellow flames of his adversary. His dilemma seemed precarious. Doc could feel the effects of the poison, like he was being cooked from the inside out. Without the power of the resurrection Eye, he would surely die.
Slowly, with barely enough strength, Doc gripped the last weapon from his bag. He tossed the fangs in the air; they hit the ground as sparks–then rose as three giant Mongoose. They towered over Lima. Out fang and out clawed, it dropped Doc from his massive jaws. The three ferocious snake fighters took turns ripping and biting the demon. They tore into him viciously, depleting him of precious energy for which he needed to remain in the earth’s realm.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Steven watched helplessly as Esther struggled against the hands that held her firm to the altar. Madame Reece stood over her with a ceremonial blade. She gripped it tightly with both hands and held it over Esther’s heart. The black cloaked and robed crowd looked on, anticipating breathlessly.
“Azi Dahaka Accio!” Madame commanded.
Suddenly, a distant deep hum permeated the air, like a thousand drum rolls, and the floor shook ever so gently. Madame lost her concencration as the hum got louder and louder and the floor shook more vigorously. Many in the crowd looked up and saw the hanging lamps swinging to and fro. Then small chunks punched out of the walls and powdery concrete spilled through the openings, like water leaking through cracks in a dam.
“What’s happening?” a voice rose from the crowd.
The hum deepened into a loud rumble and the floor vibrated like a mini earth quake. Small pieces of ceiling fell like a light rain.
“The house is coming apart!” another shouted.
One of the sorcerers closed her eyes and folded her hands over her chest as if she could sense something.
“The portal; it is closing,” the sorcerer said.
“Madame! Is that true?” asked a young follower.
“Impossible,” Madame said bewildered. “That mere idiot couldn’t have possibly defeated Lima.”
“Then it’s true?” shouted another from the crowd.
“Go, Doc, Go!” Steven shouted at the top of his voice as he snatched away from two goons. He shouted it several times until his voice cracked.
The rumble grew to a near deafening sound, like the engine roar of a jet plane flying too low to the ground. Everyone had to shout to hear each other. The floor shook violently and people fell over like duck pins. Screams rose above the roar as large blocks of stone crushed bodies. The massive stones blocked stairwells. Many were trampled to death when hundreds dashed for the few stairwells that remained. Madame Reece was abandoned; it was every man for himself. She rocked from side to side, unable to keep her balance. Esther wobbled to her feet–reached for the dagger and pulled it from Reece’s hand.
“You Bitch!” Esther shouted.
She cocked back then slammed her fist against Madame’s nose, sending her thudding to the floor. She lay there dazed. The floor cracked beneath her–opened up and swallowed her. Madame’s high pitched scream got little reaction from Esther, as it trailed off and was heard no more.
She ran over to Steven and saw that he was out cold. A portion of the ceiling had popped him on the head.
“Steve! Steve, get up!” she said, slapping him across the face several times.
He lifted his head and shook his eyes clear.
“Steve, come on. We’ve got to get out of here!”
After helping him lift himself, she grabbed his hand and the two made a mad dash for the stairwell. But he stopped.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Doc, we’ve got to find Doc!”
“No, Steve, we’ve got to get out of here.”
She grabbed Steven’s hand again and reluctantly he ran with her. The walls were falling in around them. They struggled to stay on their feet while stepping in blood–over dead bodies, away from live wiring and main water breaks. They choked on fumes from gas leaks–all the while ducking chunks of falling concrete. They tried desperately to maneuver around the cracks in the floor that were opening and gulping all in its path followed by screams as whole groups fell through. At the only remaining stairwell, Steven had to fight several followers before he and Esther could get through. They narrowly escaped being trampled under foot. The harsh push of the stampede broke his grip on Esther and she quickly disappear in the large crowd of confusion.
He fought his way back up the stairwell; it was as running uphill into an avalanch. He could hear Esther frantically calling his name. When he finally reached her, she pointed to an opening in the wall. They could see through it to the outside. He held on to her tightly as they forced their way through the mob that was going in the opposite direction. They reached the opening and Steven climbed out first, holding on to Esther. They managed to grab on to a large thick tree branch and made their way down to the ground. As they looked around, there was no one else in sight. They ran as far as they could from the house.
Falling exhausted on the grass, they held one another and watched in horror as the once tall mansion caved inward and crumbled into a large mass of cracked stones and sharp edge steel.
“Doc,” Steven said faintly as his face cracked into a cry.
Esther held his face and pressed it to her own moist cheek. As she held him, she noticed that the rain had stopped almost as suddenly as the house had crumbled. It was as though the two events meant something, she thought.
“Look!” Esther said, pointing to a rainbow. “I think God is telling us something,” she said half smiling.
Steven looked up, his eyes still blurry from tears.
“Yeah,” he said.
They sat for several minutes, bruised and battered. Esther nursed a small open gash on Steven’s head. They held one another and felt grateful for being alive. Steven reflected on the old man–wishing he could share his own moment of victory.
“What took you two lovebirds so long?”
They whipped around–their eyes as wide as doll’s eyes and watched an exhausted Connelly limp in from the shadows. His gold robe looked half shredded and streaked with blood; his bare left arm was stained scarlet. In his right hand, he gripped the Eye of the Cock. Doc looked to have aged ten years. But to them, he was beautiful.
“Doc! You’re alive!” Steven said running toward him–almost knocking him down. Esther joined him and made it a group hug.
“Doc, you did it. You did it,” Steven said grinning.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The three returned home, and like most people after a near-death experience, saw the world differently–like God, family and friends being the most important factors in one’s life. Doc kept in touch with them; they all vowed to be life-long friends. Doc decided to write a book on the experience and start his own lecturing circuit, but not before taking his wife, adult kids, their spouses and grandkids on an extended cruise to Europe and explore their Irish roots.
Esther returned to her faith as did Steven. Her parents were grateful to Steven and Doc for bringing their little girl home. The police never knew or were even interested in the real Madame Reece and UPC. They closed the book on Esther’s kidnapping and dismissed the UPC as a dangerous cult and Reece as a nut case–blaming the destruction of the mansion on a gas leak. Steven who was always close to his mom now bonded with his dad.
After spending a short time apart, Esther and Steven met for dinner at Kofi’s and then took a walk along the harbor. They hailed a water taxi and sailed along looking up at the stars.
“Esther, what where you and my mom talking about in the kitchen the other day?”
“Oh–girl talk,” she said smiling.
“Come on, I’m serious. Mom had that look. Anything I should know?”
“I just asked her the same question I’d asked my mom and got the same answer.”
“What?” Steven asked frowning.
“I asked her how she and your dad managed to stay married for so many years, while most of my friends' parents were divorced.”
“And she said?” Steven asked playfully.
“She said, for many years, she and your dad were best friends first.
“Ok,” Steven said like the answer was no big deal.
Esther turned to him, placed a hand on each of his shoulders and looked up at him.
“Steve, that’s.. us.”
Steven looked into her eyes, and for the first time, saw love staring back at him. He parted his lips and took her lips into his mouth as she did his; the wet warmth of his mouth made the world disappear. She pressed in–melted into his arms and moaned.
THE END
I would like to thank jgrace for the beautiful artwork, "God's Crystal Ball" The artwork truely compliments the title.
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