“I have to see him. He’s mine,” Timmy said with great authority. “Remember, Mom, you said Jajireh would let me have one.”
“I’m so pleased. I didn’t expect it so soon. You are so blessed, Timmy.” Mrs. Fischer reached out and laid her hand on Timmy’s arm. She often simply gazed at her children as if they had been raised from the dead and she was so thrilled she could hardly contain it. She knew it was herself and her husband who had come back from certain death, and she appreciated just being alive.
“Do you think I can keep him at Grandfather’s place? There are some caves in the rocky bluffs.”
“Timmy,” Lijah said, “you know he’s an angel named Levi. You can’t own him. When we don’t need him, he’ll go back to heaven.”
“But I’ll always need him. I love him.”
Mrs. Fischer screamed. Zach almost lost control of the boat. A huge head on a long, long neck looked at them over the side of the boat.
“It’s you! It’s you!” cried Timmy. With absolutely no fear, he stepped onto the seat of the boat and jumped onto the great neck of the kindly beast. “Lijah, come!” he called, but Lijah was already climbing on right behind Timmy.
Mrs. Fischer was speechless but waved her hands as if somehow that would stop her son from leaving the boat. Mr. Fischer just laughed and laughed. Then holding his breath, he reached out to touch the great animal between his eyes.
“Wow.” The three in the boat sighed. The Leviathan’s eyes were huge, and as he gazed back at the boaters, Zach, Mrs. Fischer, and Mr. Fischer felt captured by great love. The sensation of immense peace enveloped each of them, and they all just sat back and stared at the animal.
“Let’s go!” yelled Timmy. “Don’t worry, Mom, we’ll be okay.” The Leviathan took off with Timmy and Lijah squealing with delight.
Mrs. Fischer resumed her waving, though it was very weak. Mr. Fischer resumed his laughing, and it too sounded weak. Zach smiled, restarted the engine, and followed the frolicking three through the bay and eventually back to Grandfather’s beach. The Leviathan came alongside the boat again, and Timmy and Lijah climbed back in. Timmy placed his hands on each side of the great head. He leaned his whole body against the animal’s head and sighed deeply. Then they watched as the Leviathan traveled back into the bay and out of sight.
It was the last time Timmy ever saw his Leviathan, but he never forgot the joy Jajireh had given him. He knew Jajireh loved him with great love. He had been given a Leviathan for joy and protection. He’d been given a new friend named Lijah, and he knew Lijah was and would be a mighty man for King Glory. And he’d been given his parents back. He was unable to put in words how incredible that was. He knew Jajireh was good, and he would always serve Him.
* * *
As time went by, Nathan, Drew, and Jacob became wanted. Their rescue missions had been successful, and the watchers began to decipher that they were the most common denominator. By that time, however, other watchers had been restored, trained, and taught by Grandfather, Josiah, and Teleos. Drew and Jacob went on to other areas to assist in rescues and inner man restoration.
Nathan remained working with Lily, Josiah, and Grandfather, training those who had been restored. Teleos continued without detection. He was the one constant in the many colony meetings, able to detect without being detected. His training of restored watchers was excellent. He remained almost otherworldly, somewhat of a mystery in his ability to teach, detect, and assist so many.
* * *
Nathan, Josiah, and Lily linked arms and skipped along the path, laughing as they went.
“We are blessed!” cried Josiah.
“Strong in the Lord and the power of His might!” shouted Nathan.
“Walking in love and forgiveness,” chimed in Lily.
“We are family, created in the image of King Glory, equipped to do great works for him.”
“Full of righteousness, peace, and joy in the Voice within!”
As they high-fived each other and continued to skip, they stumbled into one another and tumbled to the ground.
“What was that?” Nathan asked, looking behind them.
“It sounded like water.”
“I saw a shimmering.”
“Sounded like wings to me.”
* * *
Halal, SheMah, and Rhema stood still. Rhema scowled, though he was really smiling. Halal and SheMah looked sheepish.
“We haven’t slipped like that in a long time,” SheMah chuckled.
“Well, I thought Halal would just fall out and tumble into visibility right next to them.” Rhema rolled his flashing eyes.
Halal smiled. “I do love clamorous joy.”
“True, but you must be more discreet,” chided Rhema, stifling a chuckle.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had such joy over the humans and seen them demonstrate such joy,” commented SheMah with a thoughtful pose.
“So composed you are, SheMah,” Halal added with a thousand twinkles in his eye.
SheMah swatted playfully at Halal.
* * *
“Whoa, did you see that?” hollered Nathan. “It was a rainbow reflection out of nowhere. What was that?”
“Maybe our angels are right here so we don’t whack our foot against a stone, as the Book of Songs says,” said Josiah.
“Then why are we all lying here on the ground?” Lily laughed.
* * *
“Oops,” whispered SheMah.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to the great friends who prayed for me, encouraged me, and read manuscripts: Gay Hecker, Karla Orgel, Kim Elkins, Michelle Kemp, Nancy Pillat, Marsha Wilson, Debra Sheets, Jeanne Demers, Emily Munz, Pastor Ed and Julie House. Thank you Lisa Lickel, my editor, for your diligence and advice. Thanks to Dee Brestin, seasoned author and friend, who directed me to writers’ conferences where I met my publisher and learned so much. So many relatives cheered me on…thanks! And special thanks to my immediate faithful family, Lee, Bethany, and Christopher, who supported, listened, and loved me, and still do.
About the Author
Judy DuCharme is a retired fifth-grade teacher (22 years at Gibraltar School in Fish Creek, Wisconsin, with an emphasis in science), former Christian radio announcer, Bible study teacher, speaker, and a great fan of the Green Bay Packers. She obtained her BA from Michigan State University in Communication Arts and her teaching degree through the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay.
Judy’s passion in all she does is “to see people strong in the Lord and the power of His might.” Her first published book, The Cheesehead Devotional (Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas) earned her the Best New Writer Award (2013) at the prestigious Write to Publish Conference.
One of twelve winners of the Guideposts Workshop Contest in 2014, Judy attended their special training in New York. She’s had four pieces published in the Guideposts family of magazines. The Florida Christian Writers Conference 2016 awarded Judy First Place in Short Story and Honorable Mention for Speculative Fiction.
Judy lives in Wisconsin with her family.
She would love to hear from you: [email protected].
www.judithducharme.com
Please enjoy this sample from Run With the Wind by Judy DuCharme.
Copyright © 2016
Linney Merritt watched the pearly white face emerge from the mother cow. She sighed as she remembered Grammaw’s words: “A pearly face comin’ into life and a pale face goin’ out.”
The cow bellowed. Linney, startled, bellowed too. “Pa, hold her tight. She been thrashin’ mighty hard.”
“I know, Linney. This may be her last calving.” Pa’s eyes were just a couple inches from Nellie, the mama cow. His thin face covered by a salt and pepper beard didn’t hold back the jutting chin, which jutted more when he worked hard. Linney teased him that it grew when he concentrated. Pa’s gnarled hands, strong and scarred from cow hunting and handling since he was a boy, gripped Nellie’s head and forelegs. Nellie settled. Pa sure had a wa
y to calm his animals.
“Can’t believe she’s birthed so many calves.” Linney reached into the slippery canal past the head and grabbed the calf at the shoulder area. “I got a good grip, Pa.”
Nellie moaned and Linney pulled. The emerging calf licked her face. “We better hurry, Pa. He just done licked me. Don’t want him thinkin’ I’m his mama.”
“You’ll make a good one someday.”
“That ain’t happenin’. Why would anyone want to go through this?”
Pa looked around Nellie’s bulk. His eyes found Linney’s. “For the likes of you, Girl. It’s worth it.”
“Oh Pa, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring ya sad remembrances.”
Pa’s chin jutted further. “I see your Ma when I look at ya, Linney, and it brings me joy.”
The calf was out, lying on its side in the grassy area just outside the barn. It struggled to get up. The mama cow turned and faced her calf. She licked the little one. The calf shivered and shook his head, then stilled as his mother wiped every inch of him clean.
Linney leaned against her father’s arm as they stood and watched. She only reached his shoulder. She always wondered how he could be so muscularly strong, yet so lean. Most Cracker cowmen were skinny, but never could be found a stronger breed of men.
“Nellie looks right proud, and she should be. He’s a fine bullock.” Pa put his arm around Linney.
“Pa…” Linney looked away for a moment. “Did Ma struggle? Was it hard? Did I hurt her when she birthed me? Did I kill her?”
Pa took one finger and lifted her chin. “Girl, don’t you go blamin’ yourself for nothin’. If anyone was at fault, it was me. I worked her too hard. She was cookin’ and cleanin’ and birthin’ all the cows and whatever else was on the farm right up till you were born. She was plumb wore out. I never shoulda let her work so hard. She tore a little and your Grammaw and I couldn’t stop the bleeding. She was too weak to start with and she just bled out. ’Twas me to blame iffen anybody. Now when your time comes, your man is gonna keep life easy right before birthin’ time, and I’ll make sure of it.”
“No, Pa. No man for me. That way there ain’t no birthin’. Ain’t no birthin’, ain’t no dying. . Another birthin’ might kill Nellie. It’s time to keep her alive.”
“Nellie’s old and tired. Your ma worked too hard and was weak. You’re young and strong, Linney. I do hope you come to change your mind.” Pa winked. “Just past your twentieth birthday . . . most young ladies are settin’ their sights . . .”
“Got work to do, Pa. All kinds of cooking for these hungry Crackers.” Linney sauntered back to the house. It was sturdy like Pa. The walls were constructed of cypress logs and cypress shingles covered the roof. Crackers had hauled the solid trunks from the cypress swamps that populated the wilderness scrub in central Florida where they lived.
Linney read about fancy cities and fancy clothes in magazines from the supply store in Kissimmee, but truth be told she loved this life. Raw and real, full of life. Yes, full of death, but that was inevitable. She chose to live strong. That meant no birthin’ for her and that meant no marrying. She was fine with that decision. Besides, in that same supply store, the few women she met always had a story to tell of someone dying in childbirth. Loss of control was not her cup of tea. And a child ought to grow up with a mama. Grammaw was great, but she died when Linney was ten.
She stepped back to see which way the smoke was moving out of the smoke house, a building set back from the house. She’d soon have a good supply of smoked hog meat for the cattle drive. Still had to slice it up. But right now she needed to pick more huckleberries for some pies and was glad to see the smoke rising straight up. That meant good weather for a day or two, plenty of time to finish a good supply of meat and pies for the drive. After the drive, she knew what she needed to stock up on for Christmas. It was the most festive day of the year. Still a long way off, but she liked planning, being in control.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching from the west. Pa told her he hired a new Cracker to replace Billy, their hand who’d married and went to work with his wife’s pa. The new guy was Billy’s distant cousin. Raised here in Florida but worked cattle all the way out in the Texas territory. Wanted to come back to Florida.
This must be him riding a marshtackie, the horses the nearby Seminole Indians raised. Spanish soldiers left the small sure-footed horses behind and the Indians continued the breed. Fast and strong, the marshtackies were known for their endurance and their intelligence. Linney had always wanted one. She stood and admired the muscular lines of the horse. Just like Pa, the horse appeared slight, but so strong.
Her eyes shifted to the rider. He appeared a few years older than her. She caught her breath. What was that? His square shoulders and square jaw made him much wider than most Crackers. But there was something else. It made her feel jittery. She must have overeaten or that new calf licked her too much. Her stomach didn’t normally flop around like a snake hit by a cowman’s whip.
* * *
Cyrus John saw the Merritt homestead in the distance. The marshtackie sensed his rider’s eagerness to be done with the long ride. Cyrus patted her and felt the quiver of thanks in her neck. Never had he owned a better, faster horse than Cala. The only one I haven’t lost. Lord, don’t let me lose Cala here. She still remembers sweet Sadie, same as me. Only been a year.
The ranch loomed closer and the Kissimmee scrub sprinkled with Palmetto shrubs stirred childhood memories. Growing up not far north of here, he loved the sound of the whip as the Crackers kept the cattle in line. The cows snapped back to the herd and changed direction at the sound of the whip’s crack. And that whip could kill a rattlesnake in a heartbeat. He’d only gone on one cattle drive with his pa before he knew his fate was sealed forever as a cowman. It was in his blood.
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