Dreamtimereaders: Six Months

Dreamtimereaders: Six Months: From three o’clock in the morning till his mom’s housekeeper arrived at ten a.m. , Caleb found himself unable to get comfor...

Six Months

From three o’clock in the morning till his mom’s housekeeper arrived at ten a.m., Caleb found himself unable to get comfortable on that broken down futon. He was accustomed already to ongoing back problems and the mattress sagged in almost a foot, but this was not the problem this morning.With no driver's license, he had grown irritated at having to hitch a ride to his mother's house late last night.

All his life and especially for the last few years he had grown accustomed to living without any luxuries with the exception of one item. The XBOX 360 laid safely on his mother’s dresser right across from the room. This was the one item that he was proud of and the woman who bore his last name would not deprive him of this, even though she claimed it was hers. Under no circumstance would she keep him from being there for his sickly mother either.

Everyone claimed that the marriage wouldn’t work out. There was a significant age difference between them. His bride was barley 19 and a member of the U.S. Air Force. According to Caleb, “I can’t even fart without her permission.” Still, logically she was his best chance of having a somewhat stable home and access to medical attention, even if she was trying to control his every move. Due to the recent loss of one of his eyes after contracting an infection didn’t help in the process of finding suitable income. There was no hope now of wearing contacts again. He was unable to overcome the possibility that the infection could be contracted again and his other eye would be gone as well. This was another hard blow to the ego of an attractive 34 year old man who wasn’t fully ready to consider himself old and retired.

Up until now his life had been a series of failed attempts at relationships and sticking to potential job related opportunities. There was also that felony on his record. This would always be there to haunt him even though it was just a stupid attempt at trying to show off in front of his friends. He hated remembering the screw ups.

Caleb’s daughters sometimes had the opportunity to visit, but circumstances and that ever increasing failure list along with their nagging mothers kept him from being a proper father. Nagging was saying it nicely and insane ex girlfriends was a better way of labeling them but mother always said "you need to be nice and forgive." Always happy to have the little one's around but too depressed to interact with any of them, he would sleep the day away and allow who ever else was there to tend to the little girl’s needs.

The little brown Pug, who also belonged to his mother and would often use the restroom in front his bedroom door found a comfortable and warm spot right at the back of his neck along the hairline while looking for a bit of warmth and comfort. “Man she needs a bath.” The smell of a dirty dog would not move him from the uncomfortable spot that molded to his slender frame. It was comforting to have another lonely individual there beside him even if it was a stinky little dog that refused to go outside when it mattered the most. At least someone was showing him affection and that they cared.

By tonight things would play out like they always do. The wife would show up late and wanting to make up. She would then remind him of their first prenatal check up they needed to attend in a couple weeks but no appointment had actually be set for. After that would come the cuddling and attempted coercing while trying to get him to move back home with her. It was always the same every time a fight occurred.

Perhaps he would give in just once more, but time was running out for the young bride. Not even being sure that there would ever be actual love between them, it was still worth trying to make things work out as long as possible.

It didn’t matter that the pregnancy could very well be a controlling tactic from her. In six months she would be leaving for Alaska. Those plans were unchangeable in her eyes since signing up for the service she intended to accept her orders diligently, even if those deployment orders took her to some unforgiving frozen tundra. She would not change them even for the chance of having a child with her husband. Six months and things would change once more and Caleb’s hopes may once again be shattered.

Dreamtimereaders: Trapped In Skorrgatory

Dreamtimereaders: Trapped In Skorrgatory: The typo's in this document are deliberate. Chapter 2 What’s going on? I didn’t realize that everything would...

Trapped In Skorrgatory

The typo's in this document are deliberate.

Chapter 2

            What’s going on? I didn’t realize that everything would be gray in the afterlife. I thought there would be someone to greet me here. It’s extremely cold but I’m not shivering. I can’t smell anything either. Oh wait; there is an auburn light in the distance. I don’t feel like I’m moving but its getting closer. What’s going on? Are they coming to torture me? Is this hell coming for me? I’m afraid! What did I do? There are shadows in the glow. Did I just see teeth? I don’t recognize anyone but there are people in the glow as well. Someone is screaming! I really don’t want to meet any of them. I want to leave this place. They’re still coming. I can see no where to run to. It’s empty here. Oh God help me please! Someone help me.

            “I forgive you Stephen! Can you forgive yourself though?”

            “Yes, help me!”

            “All that you see is the anguish you have caused your loved ones during your life. They weep! They are embittered! Don’t worry; they won’t come any closer now.”

            “What’s stopping them?”

            “I am!”

            “Laura?”

            “You can draw off of my strength. I’m here for you.”

            “Where are you?”

            “Don’t be afraid! I’m with you. I always have been. You must face your past, but as I said, you can draw off of my strength. It was your choice to leave, but I am with you. Be strong now. I will be waiting.”

            “Who are you?”

Chapter 3

            As he looks around him, color forms in the nothingness. Green hews appear before his eyes. The orange glow morphs into a brilliant sunset by a river. The creatures vanish and turn into shadows of trees and vegetation.

            “What is going on?” Stephen thinks. He is no longer cold. There is an encampment off to his side by the shoreline. Horses are grazing in the meadow close by. Stephen spies about a dozen reed boats floating at the rivers edge. Their thatched grass houses sit peacefully in the shadow between a large hill and the river.  There is just enough level land available to fit a field of crops to the side of their homes. He recognizes the three sisters as it was once referred to. The three sisters are usually described as a stalk of corn with beans growing up and around it. There are also squash planted around the bottom of the corn to. It is said that this is to prevent wild animals from doing damage to the crops and the beans have a natural trestle for growing.

            Sun kissed inhabitants are looking off in the distance of the river as several large boat glides toward them from the horizon. A couple of them have the American flag anchored in front while it gallantly flaps in the wind.  The distress call from a horn bellows out and everyone in the encampment gathers their weapons in a panic.

            A dark skinned villager with a tail of long hair flapping loosely over his back runs right through Stephen. With the exception of the pony tail on top, the rest of his head is cleanly shaven. He momentarily stops to look back. As Stephen takes in his appearance, he sees that the man is well built and covered in goose bumps. It must be summertime due to the lush vegetation.  The native is wearing a knee length loin cloth that covers his muscular thighs and helps to keep him cool. He has a puzzled look on his face as he rubs his arms. He doesn’t see Stephen but he looks as though he has just walked into a cold draft with a distressed gaze on his face. Then he is gone. He has started running to the encampment once again to help his neighbors and loved ones.

            On the shore, the boat has arrived. He spies a group of men in army uniforms marching out carrying muskets. They are not wearing modern military uniforms. Button down burlap sacks fastened at the waist with a belt is an extremely poor description of what the solders are wearing but it is his first thought as he at least tries to amuse himself. The thought is quickly lost during the swift and heartless take over.

            Stephen is unsure if they are doing this as a random act of violence or if it is one of the Indian wars that he has read about in school. They are headed to the encampment and burning the grass domed homes. They are raiding the village. He watches in horror as some of the warriors are shot down and the people scatter in panic.

            Some of the warriors have muskets as well but there are too many solders. They try to fight with every fiber in their bones but the battle is already lost. Their homes are getting burned. Some have already given up and are being placed in shackles. Others are running to the hills trying to get away. Stephen watches horrified as a dark woman in a dear skin gown falls to the ground while trying to flee with her children. It was clear that all the exits had been cut off. He is embittered that the solders are now placing shackles on the woman and her children. They are crying and being led away. Out of the four children, one of them has a remarkable resemblance to the brave warrior. This child tries desperately to cling to his mother but is ripped from her flailing arms and carted away. He wonders if this is the family of the man that walked through him earlier.

            The child’s mother is not so lucky and Stephen’s heart fails him at the sight of her demise. He can do nothing as two of the solder’s cart her off behind a bush. She tries to fight them off but they are stronger. Her hair is undone and flies wildly down her back and in her face as one of the men pulls her to the ground. The other solder wickedly smiles as he pulls out his knife and carelessly begins to cut her dress. Her dark plump breasts shake wildly as they are forcefully exposed. She screams in anger and humiliation as she her skirt is pulled up and she is mounted. Even though the knife is at her throat, she spits in the solder’s face. His would be conquest is short lived as a silent shadow slithers up behind them.

            Before either of the men knew what was happening, one is hit in the head by a large stone and knocked to the ground. The knife that he is holding accidentally finds an unwilling target during the confusion. It is silently forced into the woman’s throat. The warrior quickly grabs the soldier’s musket and mercilessly shoots the accomplice down.

            After shoving the men aside he gently kneels beside his beloved but it is too late to save her. The cut is deep in her neck. There is just enough strength left in her ravaged soul to pull her husband down to her for a final kiss. Then she fall limp. The young warrior then proceeds to get up and wipe the tears from his eyes before leaving with a pissed off look on his face. Stephen knew the look all to well. It was one that said “someone is going to pay for this.”

            Stephen didn’t know why, but he loved the woman who now lay lifeless on the ground. She was perfect to him in every way. She would have been in her twenties and beautiful even though all that was left of her was an empty shell. The long dark hair lay tangled and uneven while gently caressing her bosom. Her abdomen was swollen and somewhat rounded he could see as he examined her mostly naked frame. “Oh God, she was pregnant.” He thought.

            More men are pouring in from the opposite direction. Stephen can’t understand the dialect of either the villagers or the invaders. He is thankful that he can’t smell anything. The surrounding sky has gotten cloudy as ash particles gently fall like snow over the thick brush. Most of the inhabitants have already been led away to the boat. The fall of the village had been extremely quick. The white men are burning the field and gathering the horses. All leftover treasure or war spoils are being gathered as they make sure that the landowners have either been killed or forced to move.

             It was then Stephen glimpsed the warrior cornered in a ravine on the side of a gently sloping hill. It was the same one that ran right through him. Several of the solders had him backed into a pocket with no escape in sight. They are laughing and one is taunting him with a pair of shackles he’s carrying. The other solders are pointing muskets at him incase he tries anything. The man is shouting something. He points to their fields of corn burning to the ground. He screams at them in an unknown language while trying to direct their attention to the boat. They move cautiously closer.

            The dark skinned chap sheaths his knife from the leather holster that hangs to the side of his tattooed leg beside the loin cloth. It has already tasted the blood of an unknown solder or two. The warrior plants the knife directly in his beating chest before anyone could stop him.  Stephen feels the pain and at once recognizes the connection. The blood is quickly saturating the front of Stephen’s shirt. The warrior has no shirt on and he can see the damage that was done when the knife reached its destination. Stephen clenches his chest in agony. With each heartbeat he can feel and see his life force being pumped out, only to be soaked up by the ground like a thirsty sponge. This is why he was drawn to this place. This is why he had feelings for the young pregnant lady and her children. This was the beginning. As soon as the connection was made, everything in front of him starts to melt away along with the pain. It melts away into a vast space of dark nothingness.

            “This all seems familiar like some type of dream I’ve had.”

Dreamtimereaders: Kira's Dance

Dreamtimereaders: Kira's Dance: How she got there was uncertain and the answer to that riddle may never be discovered. Some unknown force had stripped Kira Panthenol ...

Kira's Dance

How she got there was uncertain and the answer to that riddle may never be discovered. Some unknown force had stripped Kira Panthenol away from everything she has ever loved, known and held dear. It was so strange how it happened. One minute she was walking through the fields next to the church yard where she loved to practice her dance lessons and the next she was here. There was only a momentary blink of the eyes as the sun warmed her olive complexion. The wind blanketed and caressed her skin with its subtle tulip enriched touch that kept her spinning in a tranquil spring trance. Not too far away, the daisies applauded her deep and all consuming joy.

The new birthday present that was given just the day before, had proven it’s self to be an excellent asset. For months and every other day, subtle hints had been thrown out at random that Kira couldn’t live without a brand new Ipod and portable player. A rather pricy request for someone not normally fixated on worldly goods but the equipment would help with dance practice. No parties were ever thrown at the Panthenol home. Mr. Panthenol worked all the time and Mrs. Panthenol passed away five years ago. Still Harvey tried to indulge his only daughter when he could to hopefully quell the loneliness that smothered their humble dwelling.

Being quite adapt in computers, Harvey made sure that all of Kira’s favorite music had been downloaded onto the present as well. Some of the contemporary soundtracks that would often be heard in passing as everyone prepared to relax before bedtime were included, along with classic from Bach and other deceased composers from era’s past.

The last song had just finished as her eyes opened onto unfamiliar terrain. The tulip filled meadow vanished along with the decrepit red brick church whose window pains had been in desperate need of a painting or perhaps even replacement if it could be afforded by the small congregation that attended there.

In its place was a bustling courtyard of stone and mortar and the inhabitants traversing around wearing strangely outdated clothing. Upon closer inspection, all of the women within visual range wore dresses and the most of the men in strange looking trousers and suspenders. Some had been very well dressed from head to toe in a top hat and suit but most seemed to be what is best described as average.

An enormous brass horse and rider sheathing his sword towered above all in the middle of the square. Four silly looking fish held up the unknown hero and spewing water out of their mouths as though pushing everyone and everything else away so that the rider is glorified. The birds seemed to have been the only one noticing a new arrival appearing out of nowhere. The pigeons scattered briefly but quickly returned to peck up any possible morsel left from some kind stranger.

It was at that unconventional and everlasting second that Handel’s Messiah began to play and quite loudly since dancing wasn’t quite the same if the vibrations from the music couldn’t be felt. The crowd turned to follow this strange unusual demonstration. If anyone were ever really able to read other individuals minds or have access to their thoughts like some super hero, now would be an opportune moment. A great deal of questions arose during the fraction of a second that she had to develop a plan. Was time travel possible? Is this what had just happened? How was the crowd going to react if she had fallen in a not-so-friendly historical past? In the end there was only one obvious answer.

All eyes fixed to the direction of an invisible choir chanting a sonnet fitting enough to entice a heavenly ensemble to join in the praising chorus. Any thought of what could happen when the music stopped vanished along with all the doubts and fear of “will they like me?” This was the final test of faith that day. And so, Kira began to dance once more with the wind at her back, the birds as here support, and the music as her inspiration.

Dreamtimereaders: At The End Of The Gravel Road

Dreamtimereaders: At The End Of The Gravel Road: The call overwhelmed me tonight and it became too strong to resist that persistent urgings that blanketed my will power. Not even the b...

At The End Of The Gravel Road

The call overwhelmed me tonight and it became too strong to resist that persistent urgings that blanketed my will power. Not even the bitter choking taste of a lit cigar would quell the cravings so it became pointless putting it off any longer. Without hesitation a JNCO Jeans black hoodie and that old Vietnam trench coat was hurriedly tossed over my backside and a pair of brown work glove slid on before disappearing through the door.

          I had only momentarily been taken aback as the gale like wind tried to steal my breath and blanket me in a moist mist from the evening November rain. One final check to make sure I had everything that would be needed. The front door key and android were in my pocket. That and the walking stick would suffice for tonight at least.

          All the neighborhood dogs greeted me as I passed; they were the only ones who seemed to notice but I new that wasn’t completely right. There was something else out there, something that remained in the shadows and glided along unseen by most. There are a great deal of legends about them but non can truly emphasize them correctly. They are as individual as a snowflake. They also like to remain unseen. But I see them and I think they are afraid now. They follow me through the shadows and try to intimidate me, but I’m tired of hiding. It is time to face them and tonight I will.

          In front of me, skeletal trees stretch their bony naked arms to the sky and pray. The creek running along the side of the road gurgles as I reach the end of the road and decide to travel a different way tonight. It is only out of the corner of my eye that another dark and in-proportionate figure darts by. I’m used to it by now and it doesn’t startle me. It seems to be headed to an long gravel road that I have, for reasons unknown, refused to travel and explore. This road has always intimidated me.

          I hear the car behind me and try to make room for it to pass but there is little room left. A large murky puddle mocks me. There is only two choices. That is to either get my feet wet or make the vehicle go around and I happily choose the later. It is too dark to see if they cared or would be shaking an angry fist my way but no obscenities were yelled so the situation seems well. At least until I notice that the car is headed for that long dreaded drive and several blurs follow back beyond the street light’s reach. For a brief moment I smell burring wood. I grew up visiting all the neighbors within this vicinity and nobody had a fire place to my knowledge, except for perhaps the house at the end of that gravel road. I had never been there. At least I don’t remember ever being there.

          The thoughts in my head are starting to muddle my perception and I must head back home to gather my thoughts. There need’s to be a plan of action and I can’t just show up at some stranger’s house all pathetic like on a rainy evening. Somehow I will need to find out what truly lies at the end of that long gravel road.

Trapped In Skorrgatory

Trapped In Skorrgatory

By L. E. Leonard

This book is dedicated to my beloved older brother.

May he rest in peace!

Chapter 1

            Death has always been a part of life, and in some cases depending what you believe in, so is reincarnation.  Some people are constantly looking for a way to cheat life. Some will eventually succeed. And in some cases they have cheated life for so long that they don’t even realize they have created a never-ending path of destruction in their spirit and human forms. But the God of Abraham is a forgiving God, and when we care enough about these lose souls and pray for them, he will help out but not always in a way that we will understand. In the mean time it is our job to look after them.

 

 

 

 

 

44 THINGS

 

By Stephen Columbus on Saturday, 25 July 2009 at 18:37

Here are the rules - post this list on your profile (in Notes) replacing my answers with yours. Tag 25 people to do the same thing.

If I tagged YOU, it's because I want to know more about YOU!

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Yes...Sir Stephen Columbus the Great

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? Now...I just ran out of beer

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? No...That’s why I cut my hand off

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? SPAM, SPAM SPAM SPAM, Wonderful SPAM, Wonderful SPAM

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? I think I do but all the mothers deny I'm the father for some reason.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? As long as I didn't have to admit it in public.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM? Please refer to the answers to questions 5, 6 and 8.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? No...I have other peoples.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Sounds kinky...so, yes.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Steve-O's....Its Honey Nut Cheerios and Golden Grahams mixed together with chocolate milk poured over it.

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? No...I just kick them off and try to hit the dog.

12. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Ice Cream Sandwiches...on wheat bread

13. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? If they will support my drinking habit or not.

14. RED OR PINK? This seems like a loaded question, so I am invoking my 5th amendment rights.

15. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? The thinness of my wallet

16.  WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? You...you know who you are

17. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST? No

18. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Sorry...Its no pants half hour right now. Since I’m not wearing any pants, its pretty pointless wearing shoes.

19. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Laurence Welk...Really!!! I am.

20. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Barf.

21. FAVORITE SMELLS? Napalm... early in the morning

22.  WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? The phone sex girl...she said her name was Sarah Palin but I didn't believe her.

23. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Fox News

24.  HAIR COLOR?  Audubon....Audubon on a dog's ass

25.  EYE COLOR?   Bloodshot

26.  DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? No...I keep all my contacts in my address book

27.  FAVORITE FOOD?   Food

28. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?  Happy Movies with scary endings

29. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Falling Down

30.  WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? I'm not wearing a shirt either

31. SUMMER OR WINTER? Swinter....or wummer

32. HUGS OR KISSES? Sex

33. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? I have no idea

34. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? I have no idea

35. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? Casino Royale

36. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? Wireless Optical Mouse....no mouse pad needed

37. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? Bill Moyers

38. FAVORITE SOUND(S)? You don't want to know

39. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? The Rolling Beatles!!!

40. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Home is where you park your ass.

41. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? A few…hehehehe

42. WHERE WERE U BORN? I crawled out from under a rock

43. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK? Everyone’s!

44. HOW DID YOU MEET YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER? Which one?

LikeUnlike · Comment · Share

·          

• Spam? Seriously? No wonder your crayon color is barf.

27 July 2009 at 23:44 · LikeUnlike

• Oh come on, Dude....You and I used to watch (and quote) Monty Python all the time...I figured you of all people would understand the SPAM joke :)

28 July 2009 at 08:54 · LikeUnlike

• Lol

28 July 2009 at 22:13 · LikeUnlike

• The spam joke was an easy lead to Monty Python... Even I got it, and never really watched MP... This reminds me of a guy I knew in Germany... Really much like him!

29 July 2009 at 07:41 · LikeUnlike

• It has been too long since I have watched Monty Python. However, The Life of Brian is still my favorite movie!!

29 July 2009 at 21:13 · Like

            My name is Stephen Columbus. I lived and grew up in Grant County Indiana. I’m not scared of what I’m about to do. I’ve tried it several times. My family will be better off without me. I have no wife or kids. There is No one in particular that I’m involved with. I’m thirty nine years old now. I feel as if I’ve outlived my time. I have no purpose. I can’t find one. It will be hard for my family to understand. They are a good family but I can’t be a burden to them anymore. I can’t even find a job that I’m happy with. I’m thirty nine and don’t even know what I want to do. I lost my dad to skin cancer several years ago. That’s not the reason why I’m doing this. I’ve tried it before.

            My brother and sister both have families of their own now. My mother has someone to look after her as well. I know she won’t be lonely. I’m going to miss my nieces and nephews. They are great kids. I’ve written a note but it doesn’t explain much. I know that.

            I’ve looked for answers to my dilemma in many different areas. I was raised in a non - denominational church. I love God. The dogma surrounding this say’s that it’s a sin. I’ve searched book on Zen to help me find inner peace. I’ve search the Satanist movement. That didn’t last long and I’m sure my family is at least pleased with that. Some of the new age movement seemed promising for a while. For the last few years I have returned to my Christian roots though. I’ve come back the beginning of Christianity and I’ve been looking to join the Catholic Church. I’m finding peace in their teachings. I like conversing with saints that have passed on.  We talk to them as if they are still with us. It’s very comforting. I still can’t go on any longer.

            I can’t explain to them either why it has to be around the forth of July. I’ve got everything ready this time. The last time it tried I was in Florida and my brother caught on a little too soon on what I was going to do. I was stopped. The thought of hanging myself didn’t appeal to me very much. I will go peacefully this time. It’s funny how I say this time.

            I’ve had my fortune read several times. One psychic that I went to said that I had placed myself on a dangerous path. I’m caught up in a cycle that I can’t get out of on my own. Was she talking about this? If she was I couldn’t really tell. I even though I can’t go on, I still pray that my God will help me. I can’t help myself and I don’t know why.

            The candle that I’ve lit is starting to permeate the air in my bedroom with a soothing sent that’s making me sleepy. Maybe it’s the meds that I took. I like the sent of the apple pie candle that mom just left lying around. It seems a shame to let it just sit there and collect dust. Some could say that about me, I guess. Stop sitting around collecting dust and do something. Get a job. Oh well, no sense getting into that mess again. It seems the sleeping pills I’ve taken are starting to kick in now. Yea, it’s definitely the meds. Where are my supplies? I will dream of angels waiting on my. The music that I’ve chosen will help. Good night and perhaps we will met in another life. Pray for me!

Stephen Columbus

Oct. 26, 1970 – July 1, 2010

Gas City – Stephen Columbus, 39, died Thursday, July 1, 2010 in his residence. He was born in Marion, Indiana on October 26, 1970 to Fred and Wanda (Modesto) Columbus, and his Father preceded him in death.

He was a 1989 graduate of Mississinewa High School and enjoyed reading. He was a veteran of the United States Air Force and served in operation to provide comfort in Turkey.

Survivors include his mother, Wanda (Ernest Ray) Columbus, Gas City; Brother Jake (Mindy) Columbus, Gas City; Sister Laura (Rick Johnson) Columbus, Jonesboro; grandmother, Elli Stratton, Orlando, Fla.; Nieces and Nephews, Eric, Kris, Bob, Sam and Mitch.

Funeral services are at 10 a.m. on Tuesday July 6, 2010 in Marion National Cemetery Protestant Chapel, 1700 E. 38 Street, Marion, Indiana, with Reverend Danny Bates officiating.

Needham – Storey – Wampner funeral Service, Storey Chapel 400 E. Main Street, Gas City Indiana handled the arrangements.

Online condolences may be made at www. Nswcares.com.

Little Adeline Kinder

This is the story's end but starting this Saturday I will start posting Trapped in Skorrgatory. Thanks for checking in and I hope you like my stories even though they are still in need of polishing.

Chapter 7

       A glorious sight met their grumbling tummies. Momma’s oil lamp illuminated a well-dressed table. One platter held a mountain of biscuits while on the other side of the lamp held a large bowl of sopping white peppery gravy. A smaller bowl of fried meat lit up the middle of the table along with some mulberries. 

       Suspiciously Geraldine asked, “How’d you manage that and where’d you get that meat from? Have you been out pilfering the neighbor’s houses while Lourie’s takin’ her nap?”

       “Course not sis, God done went an brought us supper through the cat.” Adeline replied while swiping her strawberry curls back out of her eyes again as she put her momma’s fan back on the shelf.

       “Oh no, Adeline you didn’t kill the cat for supper did you? Eww! Mom’s gonna be mad” cried Delphine.

Laura pulled out a kitchen chair almost ready to pass out claiming “I’m not hungry anymore.”

       While picking up Lourie, Adeline broke out into a hysterical laughter. She swung her sister into the high chair proclaiming “stop acting ridiculous.” The cat peeked out from under the sofa sniffing the air and crying “meow.”

       “So what’d ya fix?” they all asked.

       “I’ll tell ya, that’s the best darn cat God’s given us. God had him to bring us a rabbit. It’s written in the good book that He’s gonna take care of us, isn’t it?”

       Geraldine quickly pulled up a chair to sit down. “Delphine, time to say grace, I’m starving and thank you Jesus.”

Chapter 8

       When supper was finished they worked together to get the dishes cleaned up. The gravy bowl had already been wiped clean thanks to Laura’s appetite and an extra biscuit. Adeline made enough biscuits to carry them over till breakfast. That left only a few scraps of meat. Just enough to season a nice sized pot of beans.

       Laura had already retired for the night leaving Geraldine to fetch the beans from the barn. “Delphine, why don’t you and I snap these beans up and let Adeline put Lourie to bed.”

       “Sounds good to me since Lourie smells like she pooped. She been hidin' over on the end of the couch an being too quiet.”

       “It’s alright; I don’t think it’ll be long before she’s out anyways.” Adeline scooped Lourie up and as she walked into the bedroom she said, “Come on stinky.”

       Lourie simply cooed and played patty cake before reaching to pull her sister’s dangling hair.

       Adeline didn’t return to the kitchen that night. Delphine and Geraldine finished snapping the beans. They added the leftover meat to the pot with a little water and salt. Then set it on the stove with a lid to simmer for the night. After throwing away the stems and sweeping the floor they both turned out the light.

       “Night Geraldine.”

       “See you in the morn sis.”

Chapter 9

      

All the girls got up early at daybreak. Laura had been commenting whining since 6 a.m. “Mrs. Harris didn’t come by last night. I wonder if she got a hold of pa. I hope she’s alright. Why didn’t she come by, she promised?”

Geraldine, Delphine, and Adeline had been pulling the clothes off of the laundry line the whole time while Laura complained and bounced Lourie on her knee. The girls also had to wash their dresses from the day before and hang them to dry along with freshly clean diapers.

Delphine quickly spat at her sister “Maybe you could shut up and help out just a little more Laura?”

       “Can you two stop whinnin’ and a fightin’ for two seconds “Cried Geraldine.

              “Eww, you can tell it’s about mid-morning. Lourie’s pooped again. Adeline, could you?” Laura pleaded.

       “Yea, but momma’s gonna be mad cause you’ve not helped.”

       “I’ve helped. Why can’t you guys understand that I get light headed and have to sit down a lot? Besides I spent all afternoon and evening picking beans.”

       “Don’t forget about going swimming too.” Delphine added.

       “Hey, someone’s commin’ down in the holler. We got company. Geraldine excitedly called.

       Two figures in a wagon gradually emerged out of the thicket. Adeline walking back out on the porch with a freshly changed Lourie quickly recognized the grey and chocolate horses right away. “Papa’s back. Papa’s back and he’s got momma with him.

       All the girls tossed aside everything that they had been attending to and quickly ran to greet their parents. Of course they all wanted to hear momma’s story and how papa had gotten home. That is another tale to be told some other time.