Wings of Eagles
Page 1
WINGS OF EAGLES
ANNABELLE GARCIA
License Notes
Thank you for purchasing this book. I hope you enjoy it and encourage your friends to purchase their own copy from an authorized retailer. Please help fight piracy. This book is the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed in whole or in part to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes without the express written permission of the author.
This novel is a work of fiction. Places and names are used with permission, any events are fictional and pure work of the author’s imagination.
Isaiah 40:31 King James Version (KJV)
31 But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
By Public Domain
For the unwanted. You are not forgotten.
CHAPTER 1
It was a cold and dreary November morning; colder than normal for South Texas. The ominous storm clouds rolled in all night and now; just as the sun should have been showering the earth with bright light and embracing it with warmth, the first icy drops of rain began to fall. I heaved a sigh, grabbed my ratty knapsack and pulled my threadbare hoodie up over my matted hair. It was time to find cover a bit more substantial than the cardboard box I normally called home, and fast. I was already chilled to the bone and I knew better than most how being out in the cold could prove to be more than simply dangerous. Soon it would be deadly. My hands and feet were numb, lack of gloves and shoes with holes in them were not the ideal thing for freak winter storms.
Most of the time, when the weather got bad I tried to wander about at the mall or at one of the super stores in the area. I’d managed to stay at the Ever-Mart for most of the night by moving around and hiding in the bathrooms; that is until the security guards caught on to what I was doing.
Unfortunately for me, this particular night, the store was virtually empty because of the foul weather. When they found me, the rent-a-cops escorted me into the security office to search my knapsack and pockets for any stolen merchandise. Had I not been so filthy I’d have been strip searched for sure. When it was clear I hadn’t lifted anything they invited me to vacate the premises.
“You should be grateful I’m not calling the cops and pressing charges against you.” The store manager snapped at me. I simply nodded. “Get her out of here.” He told the rent-a-cops.
So at two in the morning I was, with much pomp and circumstance, escorted out of the store with a stern warning to not make my presence known unless it was to purchase something. One of the guards looked at me with a sad and sympathetic smile. A lot of good that did me. It wouldn’t keep me warm. Not knowing what else to do, I wandered out into the sub-freezing temperatures. The previous nights had been clear and that was a problem. The more stars I saw, the colder it seemed. This night found the thick black storm clouds rolling in quickly and covering the light of the stars.
As the thunder rolled, a blast of freezing wind hit me; chilling me to the bone. I thought back to the day I’d left the local shelter; the sudden shift in the weather came as a surprise. It was more than a little chilly but I had no idea there would be rain. Still, even if I’d known about it, there was no way I was going to stay in that horrible place; I shuddered remembering the inhumane conditions in the shelter. I was no millionaire to be wanting to live in a mansion, but I refused to share an area with perverts, drug addicts, and vomiting drunks. The fact I’d sunken low was obvious, but I hoped to never sink that low. I wasn’t being judgmental at all, it was just a fact. Then again, I knew people looked at me and saw a druggie or maybe even worse. It hurt how no one even bothered to find out what my story was before putting me in a category.
With no other choice I wandered through the cold wet streets thinking of my past; remembering how once upon a time I had been in the popular crowd. Cheerleader, homecoming queen and easily winning prom queen senior year; those were the accomplishments I’d been so proud of. It had gone to my head and I looked down on those who were weren’t with the “in” crowd. Oh how quickly the tables had turned. Once I’d been so high and mighty, now I was lower than low.
The once graceful and confident girl was long gone and the insecure klutz took her place. I no longer walked proudly with my head held high, I stared at the ground instead, hoping to never run into anyone from my former life. So far it had worked. Frequenting my old stomping grounds was not an option, even if I’d wanted to. Having no money or the appropriate attire condemned me to wander on the wrong side of the tracks; I was going nowhere fast.
Going to college and having a career were now only dreams that wouldn’t come true. The harsh reality of what was, edged out all those dreams of what might be. My life consisted of staying alive one more day and finding somewhere safe to sleep, there was no time for dreaming now. I moved from place to place, broken and in fear of discovery. I was not a good person and deserved nothing better than what I had. My mom had told me so and the voices in my head had echoed it so many times I had started to believe it.
Right after graduation I’d been chased from my own home with a butcher knife. My step-father was a pervert and a predator; my skin crawled just remembering how his breath reeked of alcohol when he pawed at me. Night after night I’d taken scalding showers, rubbing my skin raw trying to wash away what he did to me. Wishing the memories and his actions would go down the drain with the water.
I finally got up the nerve to tell my mother and she was outraged; outraged I could make up such a horrible story about the man she loved, the man who had cared for me all my life. Of course he was the good guy in all this. He even made up a story about me seducing him; she believed him willingly. Had I not left she would have killed me. I often wondered what I’d done to deserve this, was I really such a horrible person to have my own mother hate me so much?
Hours later I shivered in the cold, pouring rain, there was nowhere to go. I sighed and leaned up against a building underneath a small overhang. The rain came down in sheets now and pellets of ice bounced up from the ground and hit me from all sides. What I thought might bring some protection served only to drench me further.
Tears of despair and exhaustion threatened to spill from my eyes, I had to fight to stay awake. It was no use though, I was so tired, and I dropped my knapsack on the ground and sat on it, just to rest my eyes for a bit, I told myself. Falling asleep was not an option, if I slept now it would be the end of me. I shuddered, as much from fear as from the cold. Just a moment though, just a moment to rest my eyes and get my energy back, it can’t hurt. I thought sleepily.
As exhaustion claimed me I glanced up at the buildings through sleep clouded eyes, and pouring rain, to see two figures standing on the edge of my shelter; one shone silvery white, like the moon, the other was nothing more than a misshapen shadow. The faces were not visible but it was clear they were looking down at the street where I teetered on the verge of sleep. They leaned toward each other as if in deep conversation. Then I heard a beautiful melodic voice.
“The Father has His eye on her, and great things will come to change her path. She will be a great witness to others of His love and kindness. Many shall come to him because of her. Your battle against her will be a hard one. He takes great pride in His daughter.” The silvery figure spoke with kindness and pride, I just couldn’t figure out who he was talking about. Who were the father and daughter duo he spoke of?
“But how, and the most important question, why? Look at her. There are so many who are better, why would He choose her? Garbage instead of diamonds is what He would choose? How utterly disappointing. I thought I would at least have some competition. Inste
ad you throw trash at me.” The hissing voice of the shadow was mocking. A different kind of chill ran down my spine. I realized they were talking about me. None of it made any sense though, my father died when I was only two months old, and if they were talking about my stepfather, well that monster had never looked at me with any good intentions.
“The details are none of your concern. Just watch and see what He does.” A flash of lightning revealed legions of figures watching the streets. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. Darkness swallowed me and silence filled the atmosphere.
As I slept, I dreamed of a guard of angelic beings standing guard around me, allowing me to get the rest I needed. Heat radiated from their bodies to keep me from freezing to death. It was as though the rain and ice no longer touched me. Hours of sweet sleep followed.
When I opened my eyes I searched the street for what I’d seen but the streets were empty. It must be the hunger, I thought to myself. Finding something to eat was now the top priority. The hazy light of an almost obscured winter sun gave me some hope. I’d made it through another night.
Exhausted, wet, and hungry I willed myself forward and through the fog in my mind, tried to figure out what day it was. Was it worth fighting to live anymore? I was just about to give up; there were plenty of waterways where I could just slip into and be carried off. No one would know the difference.
I stopped by a few of the restaurants known for keeping foam boxes outside for the homeless to grab a bite to eat without having to dig through the dumpsters. No luck, looked like others had gotten to the food earlier. It would be a long day if I couldn’t find something to eat and a warm place to rest up.
Then I saw the most beautiful sight; rows of beautiful luxury cars in a church parking lot could only mean one thing, it was Sunday morning and the church doors would be open. Hope surged in me as I passed by a huge marble statue of a woman and walked as quickly as I could to the massive double doors.
I opened one, just enough to peek inside. The coast was clear, no one was in the huge lobby so I slid in and immediately began to look for the ladies room. If I could just make it in there and avoid everyone I could hide out for a few hours, maybe even long enough to dry off and warm up. I walked slowly and looked around at the beautiful lobby.
The tiled floors were bright and shiny and as soon as I stepped off the entrance mat, my shoes slid. I was extra careful as I hurried to the door hoping to find a hiding place. Unfortunately my lack of coordination came back to haunt me and one misstep sent me careening across the floor banging into the wall head first.
“You there! Who are you? What are you doing here?” I winced in pain and groaned dismayed, of course someone spotted me; with all the noise I’d just made I was amazed more people didn’t come rushing out. The voice came from a woman who looked like she belonged in a home fashion magazine. She glared at me as she click clacked her way across the foyer. Darkness swallowed me as I wondered how she hadn’t fallen and broken her neck in those shoes.
CHAPTER 2
I felt something nudging my shoulder and heard angry voices. I groaned as I opened my eyes and saw an angry woman standing over me; jabbing at me with the end of a broom.
“I’m talking to you and you need to tell me now! What are you doing here?” The way she said “you” sounded like she was talking about mildew. This was not going to be pretty at all.
“I um…” I couldn’t speak and my head was throbbing.
“Young lady, if you do not answer me I will call the authorities to take care of you.” Her face was all red and blotchy and her nose wrinkled as if repelled by my odor. I managed to stand up and she held the broom as a weapon now.
“I just wanted to use your bathroom.” I whispered. The glare turned into a full blown look of deep disgust. This was bad, real bad, I’d never imagined someone at a church would get mad at someone for wanting to use a bathroom, even if that part was a little white lie.
“Oh no you don’t. Just look at this!” She pointed to the smears of mud on the floor where I stood. “You are making a mess of the floor! We just had it waxed and now it’s ruined. What do you think this is, some kind of homeless shelter? Shoo now and get out of here. Go to the corner store and use the facilities there.” The woman might have shoved me right out of the church, if she hadn’t been too worried about getting her hands dirty. The look of disgust was way too familiar.
“What in the world?” Another woman, came into the lobby to see what the commotion was.
Maybe they could sell tickets and make a fundraiser out of humiliating the homeless, I thought to myself.
“These people think this is some kind of flop house.” The first snobby woman rolled her eyes at me.
“There are homeless shelters you know. Why don’t you go there?” She turned to the other woman and spoke as if I wasn’t even there. “She should go to the old Methodist church over on North Pruett Street. They let anyone walk in there. Did you know they actually encourage the homeless people in the area to go and eat at their soup kitchen? I mean as if it isn’t bad enough how they give out clothes to all those people. It is supposed to be a church not a homeless shelter!” The sneer on her face spoke volumes.
For a moment I wanted to shout at them and ask if they ever even imagined being out on the streets was not a choice for some of us. I wanted to tell them I would love more than anything to be able to go home without fear of being killed by my mom or raped by my step dad. But I couldn’t even form words.
“Well, why are you still standing there? Shoo!” The first woman fairly shrieked and jabbed at me with the broom stick. “Maybe she is slow too.” She spoke to the other woman. I was infuriated, but I didn’t want them to call the cops, one run in with them was enough for the day. I made a bee line for the doors, slipping and sliding the whole way. Just as I thought I’d made it I lost my footing again and hit the floor hard. Mud splattered against the doors and the women shrieked. I crawled the rest of the way out.
So much for the love of God, I thought. Obviously it didn’t extend to people like me. Once again I was shown I had no value, no worth in the eyes of others. Once again I was on my own. I used the marble woman to pull myself up and looked at her.
“Sorry for getting you all muddy.” I sighed and walked off.
On the sidewalk in the misty rain I remembered there was another church right down the block. I was sure they would throw me out of that place too, if they caught me. It was my only option this early on a Sunday. Somehow I managed to coax my legs into moving and I trudged off through the slush gathering on the ground, to look for the next church.
Don’t give up.
I looked around, wondering where the voice had come from.
Don’t give up.
I tried to clear my head, all I needed now was to hear voices. Homeless wasn’t bad enough. Now I was going crazy too. Still something echoed in my mind, something one of the women had said. The old Methodist church where they took anyone in. Could there be such a place and if there was, would I be welcomed or would I face rejection there too.
The rain had gotten much worse, and it was getting colder by the minute, as if it was even possible. Icy patches formed on the ground and I was having a hard time keeping my footing; I looked like a newborn foal slipping and sliding all over the place. My heel caught the edge of a patch of ice and before I could stop myself I was staring at the sky gasping to catch my breath.
Instinctively I reached up to feel my head, worried this time it was enough to split my head wide open. Concrete and skulls were generally not a good combination. I looked at my hand but there was no blood. I struggled to get up but I slid again wound up flat on my stomach. I looked around, embarrassed at the mess I’d gotten myself into.
“Are you okay?” Through the sheet of rain and flashes of light, I was quite certain were a result of the recent blows to my head, I saw two people gingerly making their wa
y over to me. I was sure I was going to get run off from this church before I could even make it in.
“Yeah, I’m, fine I just slipped it’s no big deal. I’m leaving, I’m sorry.” I made another futile effort to get up and I scraped up my hand. Things weren’t going my way, I’d been humiliated enough in one day.
“You are so not okay, your lips are turning blue!” One of them exclaimed; great, a girl. Even though it was what I wanted I panicked and pulled away, knowing I would face rejection soon. I could only imagine they were being kind to me because they couldn’t see just how dirty I was. “Come on. Let’s get you inside and warmed up.”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t go to church here.” Even after a few hours of rest, I was way too exhausted to move on much further, but I knew it couldn’t be helped. If only I could find the wonderful place the ladies at the other church were speaking of, the place that took in anyone at all.
“You don’t have to go to church here! Come on and let’s get you out of the rain.” The girls each took an arm and half carried me to the entrance. I wasn’t strong enough to put up a fight, though it was unlikely I would even if I could.
Before we reached the entrance a girl inside opened the door and let us in.
“Welcome to your place of miracles! I’ve already sent someone to grab some towels to get you dried up. Why don’t you have a seat in the Holy Grounds Café and we’ll get you some coffee or a hot chocolate and something to eat.”
“But I’ll drip all over your clean floor.” I protested weakly.
“Don’t worry about it, we have a mop. We can clean it up in no time at all.” The smiling girl answered.
Out of nowhere a whirlwind of activity exploded around me. Towels and blankets surrounded me and the girls began to dry my hair and wrap me in welcomed warmth. I knew this wasn’t heaven, I wasn’t good enough to deserve it, but it was as close as I’d ever get.