The Wait

He sat in silence.

Listening to nothing but hearing everything.

The air conditioner would click on and the motor would hum to regulate the temperature to his preferred setting of 72 degrees.

The ceiling fan, that had fixtures for 5 bulbs but only contained 1, turned unsteadily but continuously on the low setting.

He looked up at it, shrugged his shoulders, and returned his gaze back to the flat screen tv that hadn’t been turned on in 4 years.

And sat in silence.

He glanced at the framed memories on the walls that surrounded him.

Each photo a freeze frame of smiles, hugs and happy times.

He reached over to the end table that sat next to the sofa and picked up a frame and looked at it.

It contained a photo of his wife and daughter at the dance recital for the 6th grade class.

He smiled and ran his finger over the glass.



He placed the photo next to him and answered his cell phone.



“Yes…of course I want to be there. I have waited a long time for this.”


“Ok, see you soon.”

He clicked end on the phone, picked up his keys and the picture and headed out the door.

He reached the preceding just after it had started.

The judge banged his gavel and began, just as the man took his seat in the front row of the gallery.

“Order in the court….Mr. Foreman….has the jury reached a verdict.”

The jury foreman stood up and replied,

“We have, your honor.”

“Very well. This case has 2 counts. On the first count of intoxicated vehicular manslaughter in the first degree…how do you find…”

“We find the defendant….guilty.”

After a pause, the judge moved on.

“On the second count of intoxicated vehicular manslaughter in the first degree….how do you find?”

“We find the defendant….guilty.”

The man sat in silence. Listening to everything but hearing nothing.

All he knew, was that after 4 years, it was finally over.

His wife and daughter had been taken from him, and only now could he properly mourn.

Having the man responsible being sentenced to whatever amount of years would never by adequate compensation for the years he will never get to have with the loved ones that the drunk driver took away.

But justice does not have feelings, it can only hope to provide some sort of closure.

For him…he had to find his own closure.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photograph that he had brought from home and walked over to the defendant.

The defendant’s eyes grew wide but he could not go anywhere.

The man looked him in the eye and handed his lawyer the photo and said,

“I want you take this photo of my wife and child with you to wherever you are headed. I want you to look at it….every day as a reminder of why you are there. I want you to know that I have forgiven you but I can not be at peace until they forgive you as well. Look at the picture and realize that someday you will be free and be able to live out your life but they…..”

Without finishing his statement, the man turned around and walked out of the courtroom.

He got back into his car and returned home.

He sat on the sofa in silence.

Listening to nothing but hearing his wife and daughter practicing her dance routine for the 7th grade recital that they never made it to because of the accident that took their lives.

He began to cry as he heard them practicing.

Through those tears, he knew that he would eventually find peace.



The Reluctant Angel-Part 5

“No one really knows the true history when it comes to Angels. Not even I….and have carried the moniker and it’s responsibilities for so long I cannot fathom it’s distance in respect to time.” The man in the grey suit began.

“Whatever the truth is…it has been changed, altered, glorified and twisted by myth, religion, holy and common folk and of course the passage of generation to generation. My purpose in that equation is to give you the information that has been passed to me and allow you to make you own judgement on the direction of your transition.”

As the man in grey paused, Angel took it as an opportunity to ask a question.

“Ok….so far, I gather that you are an angel….and I am dead awaiting my transition into…something…..what I don’t get is it seems you are telling me I have a choice to make?”

The man in grey continued his pause in order to properly choose his wording. He then spoke plainly and clearly to avoid any miscommunication.

“Young man….the human race remains human because of its ability to choose. Death and it’s after effects are no different. You will be allowed 1 final choice to cement the end of your “human” existence and into your transitional one. Choice is what separates the man from the animal. Your choice will be as simple as what separates the ‘angels’ from the birds.”

He paused again and waited for the inevitable question.

“I don’t understand your obvious riddle…but what I do understand is that I will be getting wings…right?”

The man in the grey suit smiled and replied.

“I am not offering you a menu of choices from an appetizer menu…no you will not “get” wings. If you will kindly let me finish, you will get a better understanding of my so called riddle and be better informed to make your choice.”

Angel sat back in his seat and waited for the Angel in the grey suit to continue his story….all the while wondering how he hid his wings under that grey suit.

After another short pause, the Angel in the grey suit, shifted his back to get settled, and began to tell the story.

Our story begins in the time of Noah, a story be which I am sure you are familiar, whether “god fearing” or not. During that time period, the angels roamed the earth along side man. Wings were not needed to distinguish between the two. The angels wore cloth of either white or black made from a silk only found in a far away place that could not be reached by the meager technology of man at that time. The colors did not distinguish good or bad, sinful or pure, one people from another. It was a rare time in the history on the Earth where people bonded through similarities in beliefs and not in similarities of color. Rather, they distinguished the difference in temperament held within the tones of the angel that wore them. Black represented fear. White represented compassion. Within those representations, the commoners of the world received their guidance. Each group flourished in its own way under the color of their choosing. Unfortunately, the differences ultimately began to wear on the ones whose beliefs did not coincide with either.

There can never be, simply black or white…there is always a grey area.

As each side tried to gain dominance of faith, in an effort to declare one stance, instead of a divided one.

The man known as Noah, received a message through the wind, that a great flood was coming to stop the bickering of the angels. He was to build an arc and carry a coupling of each animal species upon it until the waters receded, in order to save the planet from ruin.

The head of the black cloth heard of Noah’s plan and was immediately suspicious, and went to Noah.

“Noah…I understand you believe the earth will peril in a watery death. You are not of angelic decent and have no right to place fear into the hearts of my people…..I am and that is my doing. I demand you stop this foolishness and join me. You could be a wonderful addition to the black cloth. I could make you renowned beyond your wildest expectations.”

Noah answered with a fearful tone,

“ thank you. I must follow my beliefs and build the structure needed to sustain life.”

The angel of the black cloth left frustrated yet pitied the poor man.

The angel of the white cloth also visited Noah.

“Master Noah, I have heard the news and wish to ask if we may be of any assistance. We have differences in beliefs but still you cannot build a mammoth arc by yourself. Please, let us help, and during that time we may find common ground to strengthen each other beliefs.”

Noah returned his request with a compassionate reply,

“I do thank you for your offer, but I must deny approval. I must complete the task on my own and take only the passengers who believe in the prophesy from the wind”

The Angel of the white cloth left Noah, confused by his denying help yet pitied the poor man for thinking anyone who wasn’t an animal would believe this “prophesy”.

As the years went by, the arc continued to be built. The animals were preparing for the voyage, the angels of the black and white cloth continued to vie for dominance of belief.

Noah was looked at by both sides as a fool.

When the rains began to fall and the animals began to board. The land began to disappear. Both sides of the Angel factions went to Noah again.

“Noah, we must be allowed passage in your craft.” They both pleaded.

“I am sorry to you both, but, the specifications of the craft will not allow it. After all the animals have boarded, I will have room for 2 sets of small creatures. One set may be white and one black, to represent both of your beliefs but that is all that will fit. I will not bend in that request. If you wish to be represented and not perish with the flood you must act quickly.”

The leaders of each cloth returned to their followers to decide a plan of action.

Each group were stout in their belief that the waters would recede before the land was gone but to be sure that their beliefs would carry on, if all was lost, the 2 most prominent members transformed themselves into small winged creatures.

Wings and flight made perfect sense. It allowed them to board the arc as animals yet separated themselves from the four legged creatures that they were forced to share the ride with.

The angels of the black cloth chose the crow as their vessel.

The angels of the white cloth chose the dove as their vessel.

Both sets of birds glided into the arc just as it rose off the ground.

Noah greeted his winged passengers and placed them in cages to insure safe passage.

“Whoa…whoa…whoa..” Angel said interrupting the story.

“You are telling me that Angels didn’t fly until the biblical arc?”

The man in the grey suit plainly replied,

“What I am telling you….is the history of events as I had been told. Much like every other story…ever told…the truth lies somewhere in the middle between the absurd and the real. You are not here to verify the truth of the story…you are here to make your choice after I am done telling the story.”

With that short interaction…the story continued.

It seemed like an eternity that the rains fell. Eventually, they did stop.

Noah stood on the bow and gazed out across the waters hoping to see a glimmer of land.

He saw none.

He went to the cages of his winged passengers to ask for help.

“The rains have stopped. The best way to find land will be to set you free….one in each direction of the compass. I ask you to fly as far as you can. If land is found, please return with a twig from the direction of your flight to guide us to imminent safety. I will leave you to make your decision.”

The crows made their decision first.

“We will find land and bring you to it but only if you decide to follow our beliefs. We are larger and stronger than the doves and could cover more ground in less time. We are your only choice.”

The doves then made their decision known.

“We will do our best to find land. You provided us safe passage and we wish to provide the same.”

Noah looked respectively at both cages and opened the dove cage.

The doves exited their cage, bowed their heads to Noah and spread their wings to fly.

The crows clawed and cawed at the cage angry that they were not chosen.

Noah left them to continue their rage.

Weeks past with no sign of the doves.

Finally on a cool full mooned night, Noah caught a glimpse of a single white dove in the distance.

The bird returned with a single twig.

Dry land was near.

Upon docking of the arc on the banks of the shore, Noah opened up the doors of the raft and let the animals exit.

Each animal thanked him…except the crows who angrily cawed and flew away.

Shortly after, Noah died and awoke in this place.

He was met by the white dove that did not return with a twig.

The dove transformed back into the angel of the white cloth and spoke.

“You have taught me much of the power of choice and belief. I wish to reward you by giving you the opportunity to help me. Once a human has passed…his work is not done. They must help the next generation succeed in progressing to the next level of civilized unity. Everyone will die….but not everyone will be up to task of going back. We will present them with a choice. The choice being to fight for the advancement of the human race or to gain flight. Nothing more. The deeds of their life will decide if they are to be a crow or a dove in flight…that will be a choice that is made for them.”

“Are you telling me that you are Noah?” Angel asked as he sat up in his chair.

The man in the grey suit sighed and replied,

“No. What I am telling you that through the passage of time I came here by way of my untimely death by gunshot and was told a story and given a choice. Most are not told the story. They just have a choice.”

Angel curled his brow in confusion,

“So….why me? Is it because we have a few gunshot wounds in common?”

The man in grey smiled.

“No young man. The fact that our deaths are similar and our names are the same means nothing but coincidence. I chose to tell you the story because our beliefs are the same and for whatever reason, neither of us was on the list of the deceased upon arriving……I have told you all I can tell you. Please choose your transition…..fight…or flight.”

Angel sat back into his seat and took in all that the man in grey had to offer.

And then made his choice.


To continue on to the conclusion… “here

Photo from-deviant art

The Reluctant Angel-Part 4

They walked down the hallway in silence.

The recently deceased Angel following a few paces behind the Angel who wears the grey suit and the immaculately shined shoes.

As he followed, Angel took in his surroundings and attempt to surmise his whereabouts.

All 4 sides that surrounded him were bathed in a color he couldn’t quite place a palette tone to.

It wasn’t quite white…but wasn’t grey, either.

The lighting came from spaces without fixtures.

He couldn’t call it brilliantly bright….but it wasn’t dimly lit, either.

He looked passed the man he was following and couldn’t tell if the hallway had an end.

He glanced behind him, as he followed, and was surprised to see that he no longer knew where the hallway began.

Angel stopped.

The man in the grey suit continued walking.

Becoming frustrated with the following to seemingly nowhere and into nothing, Angel broke the silence to ask a few questions.

“Are we headed into a bright light that is beckoning to take me beyond the pearly gates of Heaven”

The man in the grey suit slowly came to a stop and turned around…..

But didn’t answer.

“Or…are we headed down this off color white mile to the gates of hell where I will burn for eternity?”

The man in the grey suit cracked the slightest of smiles and plainly replied,

“For someone who adamantly does not believe in either of those scenarios, I am quite surprised at how quickly you believe that you are destined for one….or….the other.”

He paused to let that statement sink in then continued.

“Where we are headed is to what I like to refer to as….my office. I hope you will be content with the temperature, it will neither be hot….nor cold….but adequate for us to converse and…like I said when I introduced myself to you….to get better acquainted, which will help us to decide the placement of your transition.”

Angel cautiously replied,

“My transition into….what?”

The slight smile on the face of the man in the grey suit widened just a touch before he answered,

“The who, what, where, when…and most importantly the why of our relationship will be answered…..”

He paused and took out his pocket watch, clicked it open and turned the face toward Angel and then finished his statement,

“in due time.”

He then clicked it closed and made a motion with his arm to follow him to the right.

Angel followed his eyes with the motion of the arm of the man he followed.

An opening in the wall appeared, revealing a room with 2 chairs.

“Please, after you.” The man in the grey suit requested.

Angel walked through the opening.

The man in the grey suit and the immaculately shined shoes followed.

“Please, have seat, young man. Although, The vehicles I choose to cover the mode of my transportation are quite comfortable….resting them allows me to recharge not only my appendages but to enjoy the peace that surrounds us.”

He sat in the other.

Angel took the seat that was offered and sat, looking very rigid and uncomfortable in the comfortable chair.

The man in the grey suit noticed and made a blunt suggestion.

“You are not in a coffin, Mr. Davis. Close your eyes for a moment and let the peace relax your rigidity. This meeting is of great importance to both of us and a great many more….denying the peace access to your senses will ultimately decide your transition and we will be finished before we even have had a chance to begin.”

Angel recognized the honest yet stern urgency in the man’s tone.

He did not speak a word. He only took in a deep breathe, relaxed his shoulders and let the peace return.

The man in the grey suit watched as Angel’s fearful and guarded stance broke.

It was slowly replaced by a calm.

Angel opened his eyes and got a bit more comfortable by using the armrests and slouching down a bit.

“That’s better. Now…before I answer any of the number of questions and inquiries you must have….I must take the time to inform you about not only my past and how I came to be but how this realm works and it’s relevance to your situation….. I guess it would behoove me to start at what I know to be the beginning for that is where most stories begin….”


To continue press “here

The Reluctant Angel-Part 3

As Angel continue to succumb to that aura of peace that overtook every particle of his being, he began to accept that the life he knew….was no more.

He didn’t know where he was, why he was here, or what would happen next.

All he knew was that he was dead.


All he could do was wait.

And hope that he didn’t have to converse with any others of the newly dead that congregated in the room for waiting.

His eyes forced themselves open after hearing an odd yet familiar sound.

It was an argument between a mother and her child.

It almost made him giggle, and probably would have, if not for the absurdity of the scene.

As Angel watched the confrontation, he concluded that they died when their house caught on fire, due to the child’s curiosity or maybe it was a fascination with matches.

The mother sat opposite him with the child standing in front of her.

Their hair had been completely burned off. Their scalps still smoldering. Their skin charred and drooping off parts of their arms and legs. What was left of their clothes had melted in with the skin that was supposed to protect them.

“How many times have I told you to leave them alone?” The woman scolded as she tore a piece of cloth from the bottom of the smoldering nightgown she was wearing.

“I know, momma.” The child pouted.

“If I have told you once…I have told you a thousand times. Now look at me and stand still. We have to look presentable for the transition.”

The Mother spat in the blackened cloth and proceeded to wipe what was left of the child’s face. Trying to remove the soot.

“That hurts, momma…and smells gross…did you brush your teeth today?” The child griped.

“Shut up, child and stand still. Do you have ants in your pants?”

“No..the fire is eating my pants…it burns!”

The mother paused, put her rag down, placed her burned hands on her hips and said,

“And who’s fault is that, little miss fire starter?….hmm…..WHO’S FAULT IS THAT??”

Angel shook his head and got out of his seat and headed up to the clearing at the front of the room.

As he passed the first row of chairs in the waiting of the dead room, he noticed what seemed to be a glass window on the wall he faced, about 15 feet ahead.

Behind the window, sat a woman who was seemed to be monitoring the occupants of the waiting room.

The woman behind the glass looked up as Angel approached and quickly stated,

“If your name has not been called, it will be based on the order of the deceased.”

Angel calmly replied,

“Well, could you at least tell me how many deceased are ahead of me?”

The woman quickly shot back-

“Why? Do you have an appointment elsewhere? Where on earth could you possibly have a appointment? Ohh…that’s right…you can’t…cuz you’re dead…..”

Angel just stared at her in stunned disbelief.

“No one ever gets my jokes anymore. Sarcasm was supposed to be my way to the top…instead it got me killed….and here. Name and cause of death….”

Angel shook his head and thought-

“What sort of afterlife job fair are they running here?”

He paused then spoke,

“Ohh…sorry. Murdered by gunshot. Davis…Angel Davis.”

She stopped looking at her list and back up at him and asked-

“Your name is Angel?……Angel Davis? Riiight….and I’m the Virgin Mary….I know Angel Davis….and you sir…..are no Angel Davis!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He replied.

She looked up at him and then glanced to the right. She lifted up her hand and pointed her index finger in the same direction and then spoke.

“Ask him.”

Angel turned his head to follow her point and was faced with the man in the grey suit. He glanced down at the floor to make sure he had the immaculately shined shoes on, then back up to the top of his head, where the fedora sat.

“Mr. Davis….it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I had planned to speak with you before your untimely demise….but your fate had it’s way with changing our destiny. Please follow me, so we may get properly acquainted.”

Angel looked at him, as he generously smiled, with a look of confusion.

The man in the grey suit slacked his smile and returned a similar look of confusion, cleared his throat and spoke.

“Pardon me for my rudeness. I am still taken aback by our greeters sarcasm and tone with the recently departed who have come here. My name is Angel…….Angel Davis and I am the transition coordinator. Please….follow me.”

The coordinating Angel began to walk down the hall.

The recently murdered Angel followed.

The greeter quickly flipped through her list, looking for the name, Angel Davis, on her list.

As she came to the end, with no luck, she flipped back to the front to start again.

And again.

And again.

As she was looking a forth time, she was shaken out of her one name seeking frenzy by a tap on the window.

She looked up to see a different coordinator staring at her. He also wore a grey suit.

He frustratingly looked at her and said,

“Well….who’s next?”

She shook herself out of her daze and replied,

“Ohh…sorry Angel….next is Donnie Kendle….cause of death…drowning. He’s the little boy with the robot.”

Angel shook his head and replied,

“Thank you.”

He then turned toward the waiting room and knelt down and called out to Donnie who was playing with the burned girl.

Donnie looked up, smiled at hearing his name being called and sloshed over to Angel, where he promptly coughed up murky water before asking a question.

“Do you want to play with me.”

Angel smiled and comfortingly replied,

“Yes….yes I do. Playtime is my favorite time.”

He gently took Donnie’s hand and winked at the greeter as he led him down the same hallway that Angel Davis was led down, just moments before.

She smiled and with that single wink from Angel, she completely forgot what she was doing before he arrived.


To continue the story press “here

Chasing Home 2-Main Street

To start at the beginning press “here

Even at 10 o’ clock at night the city traffic swells like a volcano about to erupt. Drivers gripping their steering wheels like the butt of a gun just waiting for the one thing that will allow them to pull the trigger.

My city driving skills return to me quickly. Even though I haven’t been in a city setting in over 3 years it’s like riding a bike…you never forget.

The closer I get to the part of town I called home, the more anxious I become. My heart rate speeds up and my hands sweat.

It might be because of the opportunity of seeing old friends


It could be my addictive mind is summoning up my old demons to make one more run at catching the dragon I chased for so many years.

I try not to dwell on either. I just want to check into the hotel and formulate a game plan for my return.

I remind myself that I am here to close old doors.

I am not here to tear them off the hinges.

From the downtown exit, I turn onto Main Street, which strikes me as odd that the Main Street for this side of town is actually called Main Street.

My anxiousness is settling.

I pass the car wash that was one of my meeting points for drug deals.

I think with a grin and think of my old running buddy, Chase, as I drive passed it-

“How did we ever NOT get caught meeting a car wash so often but NEVER washing the car….”

I drive on and start looking for other landmarks I would remember.

The late night taco joint is still there.

Most of the bars were still there, although, the neons were blazing different names.

It got me wondering if my favorite dive bar was still around.

Maybe the hotel can wait a while.

It was one of the major reasons I was back in town.

The owner treated my like a son when I used to live here.

In true son fashion, I screwed him out of a lot of money by running up a tab I could never pay….until now.

Initially I wanted to see him before the bar was open to avoid any riff raff that might occur.

Now I’m thinking, no better time like the present.

I turn down the street, hoping the place is still there.

To no surprise, it is. A wry smile comes across my face.

My eyes dart around the parking lot, looking for people or vehicles I might recognize.

I have to remember….it’s been 10 years….things change.

I park my truck, lock it and head towards the door.

The familiar sounds of a crappy live cover band blare out the door. Loud talking, laughter and breaking glass fill my senses.

I pull out my wallet to get out cash for the cover charge and think…

“I’m home.”

Is there anybody in there
Just nod if you can hear me
Is there anyone at home

Comfortably Numb-Pink Floyd


Picture Pages

I ventured into the archives and made pages from some of the short stories I have written over the last year and a half.

No links

No continuations

Just stories from the mind of good2begone.

New additions include-

“Call Waiting”

“Help Wanted”

“Neeko and Trotter”

“The Fault Line”

If you use a mobile device, they can be found under the ‘menu’ key. From PC or tablet they will be listed under the banner of my blog name.

It’s a blog thing.

Call Waiting 9- Call Ended

To start at the beginning of the story please type “Call Waiting” into the search bar on my homepage.

“Time changes perception, my dear. All of that occurred before I was born. What is true and what is not is not for me to know, it is just for me to continue the doctrine. What is true now….is this whole town uses her name for profit….not for prophet. I just want to know what happened….which is why I kept the phone that she said she would call me on. I waited over 8 decades…..for the phone to ring. It did. Shortly after….you came here…and here we are.”

The 2 woman just stared at each other. Only Macy screaming broke their gaze-

“MOMMA! MOMMA!” Macy shrieked as she shot up from the booth and onto the floor clutching the shawl in the crook of one arm and the phone in the other.

Patricia went to her side and said,

“What is it, honey? I’m right here.”

Macy looked at her Mother, then over at the frail old woman, then back at her Mother and replied in a dry tone.

“I know where Penny is and I know what happened.”

The beginning to the end of “Call Waiting” is here…..

Patricia stooped down to look her daughter in the eyes and said,

“Well honey….where is she and what happened….I’m sure her daughter would like to know….she has been waiting much longer than us….”

Macy looked away from her Mother and back at the frail old woman and said as she dropped the shawl to the floor,

“We gotta get outta here, Momma…..she has known all along what happened to her and wants to keep it a secret….”

Patricia felt that chill up her spine again and clutched Macy’s hand as she stood up and turned around to face the old woman.

She faced the supposed frail old woman to find her pointing a small revolver at the two of them. With a sniper steady hand, she stared the two down and said,

“You are not going anywhere. I have entertained you both long enough to find out that you are, indeed, a threat to our way of life. And rest assured young lady….my gun IS loaded.”

She moved her gun hand from being pointed at them and readjusted her sights to the picture on the wall to their right and pulled off 2 rounds shattering the glass and leaving bullet holes in the sheet rocked walls, an 1/8 of an inch away from each other.


She then quickly returned her aim toward the child and spoke,

“You will take us to the house and reveal your vision from my Mother. I will then give you the choice to join us in our crusade or to perish like my Mother who tried to get out…..unsuccessfully.”

Patricia fired back with words of confidence-

“You can’t keep us here…the police surely heard the gunshots and will be here to investigate!”

The old woman chuckled and replied,

“Haven is a self contained society. We police ourselves and have since the beginning. Outsiders drive through and add to our economy but no one, and I can’t stress enough that no one is allowed to stay and reside without going through our purification ceremony, which, by the way is going on now.”

“Purification ceremony?” Patricia asked.

“You will learn of that once your choice is made. I must tell you, with your uncanny likeness to my Mother….you would make a powerful statement toward our promise of everlasting life…..with the proper attire you would pass for a mirror image of our messiah on the day she disappeared….or as we like to call it…journeyed to our promised land for the ultimate purification. CAN I GET A AMEN FOR THE RETURN OF PENNY!

The old woman waved her not gun pointing arm triumphantly as she spoke. Then brought it back down and leered at the 2 outsiders with a menacing grin and continued,

“Religion has a way of luring the lost like no other. The Penny Doctrine has lured a town full of believers for many years. Believers who gave all for the betterment of Haven. They give their past, present and future to our cause. All of the residents here were once outsiders to their respective families and communities. We made them part of ours. Their price…..everything that they once knew for a promise of belonging and immortality. The past few years has been trying on us. It is hard to keep pressing the belief in the doctrine..without proof. With you…we have our proof.”

Patricia looked at her with quizzical eyes and replied,

“This is crazy….You can’t do this to us….all we wanted was to find out about why this old phone kept ringing and about who she was…we don’t want any part of this lunacy about purification…”

“Then your choice is made….” The old woman said as she pulled the trigger


hitting Patricia in the chest. She fell back against the booth and hit the floor.

“MOMMA!” Macy shrieked as she went to her side.

Patricia was breathing….shallowly.

Macy took her hand, leaned into her ear and whispered,

“I will do what she says Momma….don’t worry…everything will be alright.”

Macy turned to the old woman, tears streaming down her face, and said-

“What do I have to do to save her…she is all I got..”

The old woman smiled her wicked smile and replied just as Marion burst through the door with Deacon close behind.

“That’s the spirit. Take us to where my Mother is. If your Mother doesn’t make it….you will do just fine for our prophesy…you do bear a striking resemblance to me as a child….and as Penny knows…I won’t live forever. Someone has to carry on the doctrine when I die.”

Marion looked at the body on the floor and at the old woman holding the gun and then spoke,

“How is this gonna work with her dead? The immortal can’t get shot…”

Without missing a beat the old woman looked at her son and replied,

“The devil has tried to lead us down the wrong path, my son. Although she resembled our messiah, she was a false prophet…..the answers to our immortality are within the child. She has agreed to lead us to the misgivings of our past and into a GLORIOUS AND EVERLASTING FUTURE!”

Deacon, who had knelt next to Patricia and started crying, said,

“But…but….Penny….she was the one…we must…save her….I…I want to do good by her….please…let me…help her…”

The old woman, who had grown annoyed with Deacon months ago, hastily replied,

“Fine, Deacon…take her to the infirmary inside the main complex…but DO NOT…let any of the believers see her. I do not need a mass exodus on my hands right before I fulfill our prophesy. Just leave me the keys that are in her pocket.”

Deacon replied happily,

“Yes ma’am…yes ma’am…Deacon will do good….I promise….”

Deacon did as he was told and then picked up Patricia from the floor and carried her through the kitchen and out of sight.

The old woman looked at Marion and instructed him to grab the child and take her to their car. She did not want to take her own vehicle as to not look suspicious.

As Marion grabbed Macy and began to lead her out, the phone the old woman had kept for so many years, began to ring.



The old woman looked at Macy, then reached to answer the phone-



“Yes momma we are coming to bring you home. The child has found me and will bring me to you.”


“I love you too momma. I will soon be bringing you back from the cold and dark and into the light….”

She hung up the receiver and left the phone where it was. She then walked over to Macy and grabbed the old phone she was contacted on and placed it next to the other phone.

They started to walk out to the vehicle Patricia drove to make the journey back to the house where it all began.

Before closing the restaurant door behind them. The old woman turned around and pointed her gun at the 2 phones and pulled the trigger, shattering each with a single bullet.

“Call Ended.”she said as the pieces hit the floor.

Marion started up Patricia’s car. He looked at the child and said,

“Where are we going, you little ESP brat?”

Macy looked at him with her swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks and replied,

“Why don’t you ask her? She knows more than I do.”

Marion looked at the old woman and waited for a reply.

She looked at the child and replied,

“I told your Mother that I thought the house was destroyed…and that’s the truth. Where are we going?”

Macy shrugged her shoulders then replied,

“Why don’t you go look at the file my Mom brought with the picture in it…I’m sure it has the address in it. You just shot my Mom I ain’t telling you nothin’ until I’m ready.”

The old woman looked at Marion with a “well…go get it, look”. He made a smirk, sighed and went back into the restaurant to get the file.

While he was gone Macy made a statement-

“You know that Penny just wanted a better life for you….a life outside of this place.”

The old woman curled up her lip and replied,

“What she wanted….was to dismantle the doctrine and destroy my chance of being the true messiah….she was not the one…I am.”

“You’re crazy. It was hard for her to raise you alone…”

The old woman interrupted-

“SILENCE CHILD! Did you know that precious Penny got pregnant with me by an outsider??? The reason she had to raise me alone….was he could not pass the purification process. I was born out of blasphemy…and I have spent the rest of my life making amends for my impurities. She had to go….for me to be pure. The doctrine is very clear….and I have ALWAYS followed the doctrine!”

Macy stared at her in stunned silence.

Marion opened the drivers side door and got in. He felt the thick tension. He looked at the old woman…then Macy and asked,

“What did I miss?”

“Never mind.” The old woman stated, “Give me the file.”

He handed it to her. She quickly opened it up and flipped through it.

“Son of a bitch.” She exclaimed, “She lied. It was never destroyed, it was moved to outsider territory and sold.”

“Who lied?” Marion asked.

“For the love of sight beyond sight….it was my grandmother…..I remember….her telling me that the house had to be destroyed to rid Haven of the impurity of unnatural death that occurred inside it.”

Macy intervened,

“If she only knew that her husband….your grandfather and creator of the doctrine, killed himself because he couldn’t live with what he did to his daughter…..but….she fell for him because he was the one person she couldn’t read. Your family has A LOT of secrets….”

“SHUT UP, CHILD!!….before you end up like your mother….” The old woman yelled.

“Whatever….” Macy plainly replied, “you need me….without me, this whole religious charade will unravel….without me….you got nothin’…you may have the address..but that’s all you got….I know family secrets that you don’t even know….”

Frustrated beyond compare, the old woman gave Marion the address and instructed him to drive there.

For the entire 50 mile ride, the old woman would take quick glances into the back seat in attempt to get a read on what the child knew.

As for Macy…..

It was hard to get flustered by the gun toting old religious patriarch when she was comfortably sleeping….and dreaming.
Marion pulled down the caliche driveway that was flanked by trees. He drove for 300 yards until the house came into view.

The old woman inhaled deeply and looked at the house that she had not seen in many decades. To her it looked the same now as it did then.

Marion turned off the engine and awaited instructions from her.

After a few moments,she turned to the back seat, looked at Macy and said,

“WAKE UP! Let’s get this over with.”

Macy slowly opened her eyes, stretched and yawned then replied with a smile,

“You wanna hear about my dream? It’s a doozy!”

The old woman replied,

“No…no I don’t. Get her Marion and lets go.”

They walk up the front steps. Marion puts the key in the lock and they walk in.

Macy looks around and then speaks,

“Did you know…..that your grandfather had this house built for his family…..he wanted the grandest home in Haven….one built for a God. He had a part in every room being built and had certain things put into the construction.”

The old woman looked down at her and replied,

“Who cares….where is she?”

“Let’s go the attic…that’s where I found the phone….maybe she is up there.”

They walk up the stairs and into the attic. Macy leads them over to the box of stuff the phone was in and says,

“This is where the phone was. She started calling me almost right after I found it. Do you know what any of this other stuff is?”

The old woman looked at her, then Marion, made a gesture to him and bent down to look in the box.

Marion pulled out his gun, which was now loaded, and cocked the hammer.

The old woman looked in the box.

“Nope, just junk….I am getting impatient…where is she?”

Macy smiled and said….”Ok….she’s downstairs….”

She led them downstairs and into the main bedroom of the house. She looked at Marion and said,

“He needs to get all this stuff off the bookcase.”

“Why? I remember when my grandfather put that in. It’s solid and part of the house….”

Macy replied,

“Like I said earlier……he had certain things built in….some before it was finished….some after….he was quite paranoid.”

“Lies…he was a Saint!”she retorted.

Marion removed the items. Macy looked at the large bookcase and spoke,

“You would think this wouldn’t move….but watch….”

At the base of the two sides of the bookcase that were not against joining walls were brass nameplates.

Macy knelt down and clicked one to the right, then slid it all the way to the wall on the left.

She went to the second one, clicked it to the left and slid it all the way to the wall in the right.

Marion and the old woman watched in amazement.

Macy then stood up and pushed on the middle shelf…..another click.

She then pulled on the bookcase. It slid effortlessly revealing a large space between the walls.

The light that came in through the window opposite of the bookcase allowed them to see inside.

The odor that emulated from the sealed room was foul and pungent.

There were boxes of files stacked to the roof on one side. 3 briefcases on the other.

In the center of the space was a 5 foot by 3 foot box standing upright.

Macy said with a frown….

“There she is.”

As the old woman began to enter the space that contained the remains of Penny the door that connected the bedroom to the hallway burst open.

Deacon stood there wearing a bulletproof vest and a firearm pointed at Marion and yelled,


On instinct, Marion turned towards the voice and recognizes who is doing the yelling. He shouts back…gun aimed.



Marion goes down in a heap.

The old woman spun around, gun drawn. She grabs Macy and points the gun at her head as she looks into the barrel of Deacon’s gun.

“I’ll shoot her, Deacon…” She exclaims.

Deacon pauses and begins to put his gun down.

“Ok…ok…please don’t shoot her…she is just a child….”

The old woman smiles a sly smile, cocks her gun and says,

“Even as an FBI agent…you are weak.”

And shifts her gun from the child up towards Deacon.

Before she can get her arm fully extended a sniper bullet comes through the window and penetrates her temple.

Her gun hits the floor. She hits the wall and then the floor with a thump.

Deacon looks at Macy and asks,

“Your Mother is going to be fine. She told me they were probably bringing you here. Are you ok?”

“Yes sir….just a little scared. When can I see my Momma?”

Deacon smiled and replied,

“Right now if you want.”

He then clicked his radio that was clipped to his shoulder and said,


FBI Agent John Deacon walked into the hospital room carrying a file folder.

He walked up to the bed and greeted Patricia who was in the bed and Macy who was by her side.

“Hello, ladies. How are you feeling?”

“Groggy, but better.” Patricia said.

“And you, kiddo?”

Macy just shrugged her shoulders.

Agent Deacon pulled up a chair and placed the file folder on his lap. He waited a moment and then filled them in with what he knew.

“Well…..That group in Haven is quite the fun bunch.”

Patricia turned to him and asked,

“How did the FBI get involved….without being noticed?”

“They had been under investigation for years. Too much money going in
And out for a religious affiliation. They are good about covering their tracks but not good enough to keep out of our suspicion. The case went cold around 1940. The old man who started it all had been dead since 1909 and whoever he taught to carry the reigns did a good job. I came into the cold case division about 15 years ago. This case had been dead the longest… we took it on. Technology has advanced so much since then that we thought we may have a shot at cracking it. I went undercover around 12 years ago and tried to gain entry.”

Macy interrupted,

“How was the purification ceremony?”

He laughed then replied,

“Very meticulous. The agency had to fabricate an airtight background and identity for me before I was allowed to even attempt to infiltrate their society. As it turns out….there is honor amongst thieves. Once you are in….you’re in.”

“But…you called yourself Deacon….and that’s your real name.” Patricia stated.

“Yeah….that was the title I worked my up to in their society. Just another odd coincidence to this strange case.”

“Anyway, without telling you information that I can’t…if it wasn’t for you 2….the case would still be cold. Sight beyond sight….ESP…whatever it was, we thank you. Penny has received a proper burial and the dismantling of the town resources and funds is ongoing. You all are free to go on with your lives.”

He got up to walk out and let Patricia rest, then stopped and turned around.

“I almost forgot….,we went through all the things that were in the compartment inside the wall. We found meticulous files that were the transactions of all the stocks and tips that made his fortune. No one is that good….insider trading helped quite a lot. There were also these particular stocks….” He handed the sheets to Patricia.

“They were in a folder mixed in with a bunch of files. Your name is on them. Along with them was a note with one word in it-


the best our handwriting analyst can tell it was the grandmother who wrote it.

They are real and were purchased legally…..we checked it out. Congrats. You will be very wealthy if you choose to cash them in.”

Patricia opened the folder and gazed at the common stocks with her name on them.


Before walking out, Agent Deacon turned back around and said,

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call. I will be waiting to hear from you. Get well.”

He left Patricia and Macy to gaze into the future about their new life and went back to work on his next cold file.

Call Waiting 6- Penny For Your Thoughts

To start at the start of the story please type “Call Waiting” in the search bar to retrieve it from the archives.

The journey into Haven continues…

“Penny was the daughter of a very wealthy stockbroker….” The man behind the restaurant counter said, then paused.

He stopped to gather his thoughts, rubbed his chin with the palm of his hand then looked at Patricia and Macy and said,

“Where are my manners? You all are at a restaurant. Why don’t you both look at the menu and order something…and then I will continue with the story while you eat. My name is Deacon, by the way. And what might you alls names be?”

He stuck out his hand for each to shake.

Patricia was a bit weirded out by his change in demeanor, but shook his hand and introduced herself.

“Marvelous. And who might this bright little peach, be?” He said as he looked at Macy.

Macy looked at her Mother, who reluctantly nodded, then back at him and stuck out her small hand.

As Macy gently took his hand, she felt a shudder than ran through him, into her…and straight to her mind.

The vision she saw was of a large man in a dark suit and sunglasses coming into the restaurant. He took off his glasses, had a few tense words with Deacon, then made a call from a cell phone and continued to block the door.

Deacon pulled his hand away and said,

“That’s quite a grip you have there, youngin’. How about I just make you 2 of my specialty dishes…they are loved all over Haven!”

“Sure..that will be fine..” Patricia said and looked at Macy who continued to stare at Deacon. “You ok honey?”

Macy dazingly looked at her Mother and said,

“Yeah…I have to go to the bathroom, Momma. Will you go with me?”

“Of course, honey. Deacon, where are your restrooms?”

Deacon pointed to the back of the restaurant and went to make his specialty dishes for them.

They both got up from their chairs and went to the restroom. After going in and closing the door behind them, Macy pulled her Mother down to her level and spoke quietly.

“Momma…..we gotta get out of here…something is gonna happen…I. Saw. It.”

Patricia looked concernedly at her daughter, and replied,

“You are just nervous because we are in a strange place. We are trying to help Penny…remember…Deacon is a little weird…but he is going to tell us about her. Don’t worry…I will protect you.”

Macy insisted,

“You don’t understand, Momma…if we don’t leave quick….we may not be able to….AT ALL!”

“Why would you say that, honey?”

“When I took his hand..I saw a really big man come in and block the door….I think someone else knows we are here and what we are doing…pleeeease…we gotta go!”

“Ok…ok..we will go.”

She stood up and reached for the door. Just as she was about to pull on the handle, the bell on the front door of the restaurant made its “someone is entering noise”


Patricia stopped and let the handle go and looked down at Macy who looked back with wide open eyes and said,

“Too late…he’s here….”

The behemoth in the dark suit entered, maintained his intimidating stance and spoke-

“This better not be another false alarm, Deacon. She is tired of leaving the complex because of your itchy panic button finger…..”

He took off his sunglasses, looked around, and continued.

“Surprise…the place is empty. You must be a glutton for punishment…..”

Deacon interjected,

“No…no…no false alarm this time. I saw here…spoke to her…she is here…Penny…she’s here. I hit the…soon as it knew it was her! She went to the ladies room. You’ll see….I did good this time…Deacon did good!”

The large man crossed his his large arms across his wide chest, cracked his neck, shut the swinging door behind him and stood right in front of it and replied,

“I will be the judge of that. For your sake…you better be right.”

He pulled out a cell phone, hit a button, waited for a second then said,

“Yes, ma’am. I’m here. He says she is in the bathroom. I will call you back once I have confirmation.”

He then ended the call, put his glasses back on and waited for the emergence of Penny.

Patricia and Macy listened from behind the bathroom door. She looked around to see if there was another way out.

No windows. No other doors. One way in…one way out.

She looked down at her daughter and asked,

“How did you know, honey?”

Macy looked back at her and replied,

“I don’t know….when he took my hand…I just saw it happening.”

“Well….we can’t just stay in here…if he has to come get us, I don’t think he will be too happy.” She said as she grabbed the handle with sweaty palms.

She opened the door and walked out with her daughter behind her. She took a deep breathe and began walking back toward the front of the restaurant.

The large man in the suit uncrossed his arms and took off his sunglasses.

As the women got closer he exclaimed to no one in particular,

“Holy Crap….it is her. Penny has come back….”

Deacon heard the exclamation and started jumping up and down and clapping his hands while repeating over and over,


He pulled out his cellphone and hit the button again and said after a moment,

“Ma’am….you aren’t…or maybe you will believe this….it’s her. Penny is back.”

He listened to the voice on the other end of the conversations reply then hit the button to end the call and approached the woman and her child and said,

“She’s been waiting for that call a very long time….Please take a seat. She will be here shortly….and don’t try to touch me. I’m not as susceptible to your gift as Deacon is.”

Patricia moved her daughter behind her and said,

“I am not who you think I am. I am just looking for answers for strange things that have been happening to my daughter and I. Please…just let us leave….we won’t ever come back…”

The large man unbuttoned the jacket in his suit, revealing a very large handgun in a shoulder holster and replied,

“She has been waiting for your return for over 80 years…there ain’t nothin stranger than that. You are her and you will sit….and wait for her to get here…just like she has waited for all this time for you to come back….like you said you would before you disappeared.”

He then unbuttoned the strap that held the gun in place, took it out and pointed it at her and said,


Patricia tried to hide her fear and hold her composure. She pulled out the closest chair, pulled Macy beside her and sat. She pulled out the chair next to her and motioned Macy to sit next to her.

Macy just stood there and stared at the large man with the gun pointed at them. She was calm. She squinted her eyes a bit, cocked her head to the side…just a touch…and smiled.

She looked at her Mother and then back at the large man and giggled. Then got up into the chair and waited.

The large man shook off a shudder that went up his spine and tried to maintain his tough guy stance while they waited for her to arrive….but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the little girl knew everything there was to know.


To be continued….

Call Waiting 4-Penny’s From Heaven

To start from the start press “Here
For part 3 press “here

Part 4 begins where part 3 left off…

Patricia looked at the outdated phone, with the frayed ended cord hanging off the end, and was flooded with inner questions as it continued to ring.


Was the woman she just dreamed about the same one who warned them about the potential disasters?


What happened to her that caused the man in her dream to kill himself?


Why was her daughter, Macy, drawn to the old phone from the attic in the first place?


As she stumped herself with the questions, she failed to notice that Macy has woken up from her punishment nap and was standing beside her. She only noticed when the child startled her by asking a question.

“You gonna answer that, Momma?” She asked.

Patricia practically jumped out of her skin for a moment, then gathered her composure and looked down at her daughter to answer.


“This is just weird, Baby…old phones with no end on the cord do not just ring….”

“But…it’s ringing Momma…and I talk to Penny….and she tells me about things that are going to happen to us…she has helped us….2 times…maybe….just maybe….she needs help.”


She looked at her daughter with concerned eyes and wondered if her young child new more than what she was letting on..

She knelt down and looked at Macy in the eyes and asked,

“What exactly do you know about the lady in the phone you call Penny? Because, I get the feeling you haven’t told me everything.”


Macy shuffled her feet and her eyes shifted toward the ground, sighed and then answered.


“She tells me it’s dark and cold where she is…and…and…she needs help to be…free to move on…I don’t know what that means….but…but…she said she’s been waiting a REAL long time for someone to answer her call….”

As Macy finished the phone stopped after a half ring.


Patricia let the wave of the chill that traveled up her spine dissipate and watched as her goosebumps rose and the hairs on her arms stand on end as she turned to look at the phone that suddenly stopped ringing.

The silence hung in the air like a fog.

It was broken by a question from the child.

“We have to help, Momma… always say that helping others will help us….”

“Honey…we don’t even know who she is….she is a voice in an old phone that shouldn’t even work…” Patricia replied.

Macy scratched her head and confidently replied,

“We know she is Penny….and that she’s from heaven……it’s a start…right?”

“Penny’s from heaven….yeah…it’s a start.”

After some thought about the situation, Patricia decided to give the realtor a call. She figured none of this started to happen until the phone was found in the attic of the house they had moved into a few short months ago.

She gave her a call on her cell phone and asked if she could tell her anything about the history of the house.

“Well…what would you like to know?” The realtor asked.

“…..anything like past occupants hearing….noises and such…” Patricia replied.

“Ummm…not to my knowledge…but the house was vacant for quite some time…and by quite some time I mean about 14 years. The owners who are selling to you just wanted to get out from under it. They fixed it up enough to be able for us to do something with it and moved out of state. You got quite the deal on it, that home is over 100 years old….”

“Yes, we know…we love the house…we just thought it would be fun to know some things about it…Macy is 9 you know….she kinda wishes it was haunted or something like that…” Patricia half heartedly chuckled as she spoke to try to make the statement as believe able as possible.

“Well,” the realtor replied, ” you could always go to the historical commission downtown…all homes as old as yours are are listed there. Maybe they could help. I gotta run…I have a showing at 2. Good luck!”

Patricia hung up the phone and looked at Macy and said,

“Get your shoes on…we are headed into town.”

Macy asked,

“Can I take the phone with us…in case Penny calls?”

“I guess so.” She hesitantly replied but prayed to herself that the phone did not ring in public.

They reached the towns historical commission in about 20 minutes. Patricia walked inside, with Macy and the phone in tow.

They walked up to the counter and greeted the old man who sat behind it.

“Hi, we were wondering if we could find out anything about the home we are living in. We are told it is over 100 years old.”

“Sure,” the man said, “just give me the address and I will get you what I can.”

He looked down at Macy and smiled. He caught a glance of the phone as he took the address from Patricia’s hand and asked,

“Hey young lady…that phone is quite different from the usual ones I see in here. May I see it?”

Macy looked at her Mom, who cautiously nodded.

She handed him the phone. He looked it over and said,

“You know…this type of phone came out in 1919. It was the first phone used to make a 2 way long distance call on. This one still has the date stamp in the bottom.
Looky here,” he said as he turned the phone over.

Sure enough, the date stamp, although covered with a rusty substance said 1919.

“You best be careful with this, dear. It is probably worth something. Give me a minute and I will see what I can find.” He said as he handed the phone back.

He came back after about 10 minutes.

He sat down with a folder and sighed. He then opened it up and spoke.

“Well…your home is over 100 years old….but it has not been in this county for that long.”

Patricia looked at him with surprise and replied,

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…it has been a part of this counties history for about 85 years….but it was built and moved from Haven before that. I even have a picture in the file of the house being moved. To get any real history you would have to go there. It is about 50 miles west of here.” He said as he looked up at a pale Patricia and handed her the picture.

“….Haven?” She slowly replied as she looked at the black and white picture of her home.

“Yes, ma’am. I even have the name of the house movers who did the job. Very reputable and have been around since homes have needed to move.” He said with a smile as he wrote down the information and handed it to her.

She took the slip of paper, thanked him and returned to the car. She sat behind the wheel and opened the slip which read,

HAVEN HOME MOVERS-“Moving Haven and Earth since 1900”

To be continued….

Call Waiting 3- Altered States

To start this story from the beginning press “here

The world of sleep has not been kind to Patricia, since the death of her husband.

She was afraid to sleep.

You see..her husband called, right before he boarded the 4 seater Cessna to let her know that his buddy and he were going to test fly the craft before his friend decided whether or not to buy it.

She was napping and missed the call.

It was the last call he would ever make.

The plane had engine troubles at 10,000 feet. The cabin filled with smoke. The pilot panicked and became disoriented.

The plane slammed into the ground, killing both almost instantly.

Sleep was not her adversary.

But on this day, sleep won out and her world would change, once again.

In her dream, she was walking down a dimly lit hallway. At the end of the hallway, there was a door. The door to her bedroom at the home she and Macy recently moved into.

As she walked towards the door, she heard voices. The closer she got to the door, the louder the voices became.

She heard a man yelling and a woman begging him to stop.

A chair crashed against the door causing it to rattle on the hinges.

Followed by a scream.

Patricia reached the door and paused….

She reached for the knob and grabbed hold of it.

She took a deep breathe and began to turn when she heard an exclamation from the other side-


The name “Penelope” sent a chill up her back. She thought in her dream state….

“Penelope….isn’t Penny short for Penelope? Is this the woman who talks to my daughter through that old phone?”

As she finished the thought, she turned the knob and flung open the door.

The room was silent. There was no broken furniture. No Penelope.

Only the man was there and he was sitting on the bed sobbing….holding a gun.

He was talking to Penny even though she wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry, honey. I can’t tell them what happened….and I can’t go on without you….I….just….can’t….”

Patricia watched as he raised the gun and placed it in his mouth.

She started to run towards him and reached out to grab the gun.

The closer she tried to get…the farther away he became.

She was suddenly outside the bedroom door that she flung open.

Simultaneously, the door slammed and the gun went off.


The noise of the gunshot made her suddenly sit up in her bed and open her eyes as she yelled,


She awoke in a cold sweat and a panicked state of mind.

She would swear the smell of gunpowder was in the air.

She looked around and began to access not only her dream but the reality that she awoke to.

She got out of the bed and began to head into Macy’s room to check on her.


Her heart sped up.

She turned her head toward her nightstand and stared at the old time phone, with the severed cord, as it beckoned her to answer.


To be continued….