HEAVEN CALLS by Marvin, a 274 page novel
CALL OF FREEDOM
I've bundled up against the drifting snow.
I've felt the driving rain hit my face.
And choked on mounds of swirling dust
A blowing in the wind.
I've seen the leaves fluttering around.
I've watched the clouds rock 'n roll.
And heard the windmill pumping
A blowing in the wind.
Now here's to rumpled hair and bulging clothes
Dried skin, weary legs and toes
I've known the freedom of the air
A blowing in the wind.
Where e'r the wind does blow, oh Lord,
Where e'r the wind does blow.
Your Spirit moves among us
Just as the wind does blow.
John Marvin Blundell
HEAVEN CALLS
Copyright 2010
John Marvin Blundell
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No portion of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any electronic system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission from the author. Brief quotations may be used in literary reviews.
Scripture quotations are taken from the New International Bible with permission from Zondervan Publishing under the fair use policy.
ISBN: 978-0-615-35428-6
First Printing: April 2010--300 copies
Library of Congress Control Number: 2010903936
FOR INFORMATION CONTACT:
Marvin Blundell
6163 470th Lane
Hay Springs, NE. 69347
308-638-7420
blundell@gpcom.net
Printed in USA by
Morris Publishing
3212 E. Hwy. 30 Kearney, NE 68847
800-650-7888 www.morrispublishing.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page i
Copyright ii
Table of Contents iii
Acknowledgements iv
Introduction v
Chapter 1 The Call 1
Chapter 2 The Routine 9
Chapter 3 Work Well Done 17
Chapter 4 Temptations 27
Chapter 5 Bedroom and Negligees 37
Chapter 6 Alone at Home 43
Chapter 7 To Honesty 49
Chapter 8 To a Bright New Day 57
Chapter 9 From Students at Risk 67
Chapter 10 From Conflict Resolution 75
Chapter 11 To Dinner Out 83
Chapter 12 To Promises 93
Chapter 13 From Trouble 103
Chapter 14 To Asian Itinerary 113
Chapter 15 Bangkok 125
Chapter 16 Night Lights 129
Chapter 17 Phnom Penh 147
Chapter 18 To Break Time 163
Chapter 19 Ghosts in the Closet 169
Chapter 20 Faith and Doubts 177
Chapter 21 To Confession 209
Chapter 22 From Life Cut Short 217
Chapter 23 To Cabin Fever 233
Chapter 24 To Moving On 241
Chapter 25 Tears 255
Chapter 26 Final Words 261
Bibliography 275
Endnotes 277
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I appreciate those who have read all or part of the raw manuscript and offered suggestions along the way. My thanks go to Joyce Harmsen, Fred Blundell, Norma Boehler; Otis and Joyce Anderson; Ray Edwards; Mike Kuiper; Leona Wyatt; Eric and Tina Martin; and Dean Krueger. Their response led to the story in its present form. My thanks also go to the tutors from Long Ridge Writers Group who patiently guided me through the writing of numerous short stories and added editorial comments until I reached the last lesson. Thank you to all the friends over the years who have shared with me marriage stories. Thank you to Dr. Saucy, my theology professor at Talbot Seminary, for your class in angelology.
INTRODUCTION
You may discover a character much like yourself or somebody you know in this story. However, the characters are all fictional except for Somaly Mam, who founded AFESIP in Cambodia. Her experience in Cambodia comes from information adapted from the AFESIP website and the Somaly Mam Foundation. I am indebted to them and the people at NightLight. The stories of the young girls in Thailand are true as told by Jean, a fictitious character. FIFE, a fictitious organization replaces NightLight. The philosophy and mission of FIFE is different than NightLight. There is also an actual account of cyber-bullying included from another source.
As you read the story you will find a mix of fact and fiction. The story line is fictional. However, my desire was to write a story that was believable. The fictional characters are normal people who have real life experiences which affect their lives in various ways.
The clandestine characters surrounding Ol’ Hairy will be understood by readers to be either mythological or personifications of the spirit world. In the same way Ol' Hairy's enemy may be considered to be either mythological or historical. My sources for the nature of these creatures are documented in the endnotes with additional reading in the bibliography.
Throughout the novel you will find yourself evaluating, or judging what is fact and what is fiction as in everyday living. Whether it is an issue of philosophy, work ethics, theology, or marital problems, you will be involved.
Years ago as a recent seminary graduate I ended a sermon on divorce with the words or thought, “Who knows what God will forgive?” That idea stuck with me through thirty-five years as a farmer/rancher and into retirement. With that thought in mind, my conversations with divorcees and my personal experience with divorce I wrote “Heaven Calls.”
Originally this was intended to be a short story, a mystery. That never happened. As I wrote, the story took a life of its own. I was schooled to prepare an outline of key events in preparation to writing and to write the climax before the rest of the story. In truth, I did not know where the story was going or how it was going to end. An event in a friend’s life provided the pivotal point. It brought the end into focus. Once I adapted that into the story, I knew where the story was going.
The call goes forth in the routine of life when work is well done, where temptations loom from bedroom and negligees and while at home alone. It is a call to honesty and a bright new day when facing students at risk and the need for conflict resolution. It is a call for dinner out and promises for improvement, and away from trouble. It calls for an Asian itinerary including Bangkok with its night lights and Phnom Penh. It is a call for break time and to reveal the ghosts in the closet. It includes faith and doubts followed by true confession. It calls from a life cut short, to cabin fever, and to moving on. It is a call that brings tears and final words. It is when Heaven Calls.
THE CALL
CHAPTER 1
Clouds shut out the early morning sun. A stiff, cold northwestern lake wind blew the last of the leaves from the trees. A squirrel on the limb of the old walnut tree sat huddled next to the trunk. Ralph thought he saw a flake or two of snow sailing in the wind. In November snow was not unusual. He turned from the window. The pillow framed Lydia's beautiful face surrounded by soft, rich auburn hair. Peace and contentment spread across her face. The age lines along her brow reminded him of the silent ripples on the lake.
"What are you staring at?" Lydia rubbed her eyes.
Ralph flushed. “My beautiful wife." He sat down on the bed next to her and began caressing her brow and flowing hair.
"What time is it, anyhow?"
"It’s early. I didn’t sleep well, too many worries. I decided to give up and get up."
"Oh Ralph!" She felt the coarse hair on his arms under the stroke of her hand.
He melted to her touch. Lydia flung the covers back and over. Their arms slid into a long embrace. Yesterday's trials disappeared for the moment. They were young, newlyweds again.
Broken clouds allowed the sun to send forth its radiance into the cold November morning. After stacking the plates Lydia wiped away the sticky crumbs from home made cinnamon rolls. From the box on the counter Ralph retrieved a list of donors and a stack of thank you cards. Life would go on, but first they needed to finish the business of a funeral.
Ralph and Lydia pulled their chairs up to the table to review notes and cards of sympathy from those who knew Billy. The first letter was from the mortuary. It contained more cash and checks for the memorial. Ralph listed the donors and totaled the amount. They knew that other money had been deposited directly into the McCovy Memorial account at their bank. The list of those donors could be obtained from the bank when they made this deposit. So far, they knew that over a thousand dollars had been given towards FIFE and AFESIP.
"Do you remember that girl at the Tom Dy Center who didn’t know the whereabouts of her brother?" Ralph reflected. He sipped some coffee from his cup.
"How could I forget? She was the one that gave me this new hair style." Lydia flicked the hair away from her ear with her hand. "She reminded me of Josey."
"Could we match the memorial funds so those like her can help their brothers or families?" Ralph asked.
"A couple thousand dollars will go a lot farther over there than here. I like the idea."
When the 'thank you cards' to the donors of the memorial fund were finished, they tackled the pile of cards taken from the flowers. "People were very kind to us." Lydia said while neatly stacking the cards. "I never realized we had so many friends."
"We usually see a few of them where we work. There isn’t much contact with friends away from work. Maybe we should socialize more."
"I don't like phony parties." Lydia quipped. "Doing things with people that we care about is okay. I don't like parties for the sake of having a party."
"Is that all? We have only four cards left." He swallowed the last of the now cold coffee.
Lydia licked the stamp for the last addressed envelope. "It’s almost 2 o'clock. We have a house to clean yet."
The closet was full of outfits to wear. Lydia wanted one that would fit her mood and be appropriate for the evening. Saturday night out had become a special time together. Ralph insisted on going to the Bread Basket. She really didn’t mind. She missed not having a glass of wine with her meal. However, the quiet, peaceful atmosphere with an air for cleanliness was worth it.
"Lydia, do we have a Bible around here?" Ralph stood at the foot of the stairway.
"Why do we need a Bible? We aren’t going to church."
"Do you know how many stones it took for David to kill Goliath?"
"Oh, that question they always ask." Lydia came to the top of the stairway still undecided about what to wear. "He used five stones. Don't you remember the little song that Billy used to sing, 'Only a Boy Named David.' He took five stones."
"I remember. ‘And one little stone he put in the sling,’ He only used one of those stones to kill Goliath, didn’t he?"
"You couldn’t find the story in the Bible anyhow." Lydia went back to her task at hand.
Ralph knew she was right. Not only couldn’t he find a Bible, he had no idea where to look for the story. Korina said he should read the Gospels. How would he find them? He couldn’t remember how she described them. Boy, he knew the in's and out's of business where he worked, but nothing about the Bible. Maybe he should find one and just read it from beginning to the end.
No parking place could be found near the Bread Basket. Ralph drove around the block looking for one. When they entered the restaurant it was obvious why a space to park was so difficult to find. Nearly every table was full except one towards the center of the room and another in the far corner. They chose the table in the far corner on the edge of the crowd. Although the house was full and several families had small children, it wasn’t a noisy crowd. The linen table cloths with candlelight gave the dining room a proper, polite atmosphere.
The Saturday night special this week was manicotti, crepe pasta rolled and filled with meat and spinach. Ralph looked hard at the lasagna, and then opted for the special. Lydia chose the fettuccine alfredo, pasta covered with white cream sauce. She ordered it with rock shrimp. They chose red grape juice to drink. A sliced half loaf of fresh Italian bread with butter, garlic and spices on each slice came with their meal.
Sparkling goblets filled with transparent red juice reflected the warm glow of the candle. The blended aroma of fresh bread and garlic teased their appetites. Ralph and Lydia waited patiently.
"I was wondering why you don't serve wine." Lydia asked the waitress when she sat the steamy plates of food in front of them. "This is the only restaurant where they serve fruit juices as drinks."
The waitress looked around at the busy tables. "It is unusual alright. Maybe you will understand. The owners lost both their son and daughter in a head on collision with another car. The driver of the other car survived, but was convicted of driving while intoxicated. They were in the process of buying this restaurant at the time of the fatal accident. Their response was to clean out their store of alcoholic beverages and never serve them again." She paused, "Please excuse me, I have another order ready to go."
"That seems like an extreme reaction." Lydia said. "People can drink responsibly without over-doing it."
Ralph's mind returned to the autopsy report. "Which drink is the one that crosses over the line? Is it the first one, second, or third? If I don't take the first one, I will never need to worry about the second or third or however many it takes. It does seem extreme, but what would we be willing to give up in order to have Billy with us?"
"Let's don't go there. Our food is getting cold." Lydia responded.
The last slice of buttered garlic bread with a sip of juice satisfied Ralph's hunger. He rolled the remaining juice around in the goblet watching its mellow glow. "I’ve been thinking. Cromwell has offered me the promotion. If I take it, we would have to move to DC. There would be a sizable pay increase. I would also be frequently traveling overseas monitoring our import sources and seeking new ones. He wants to know if I will accept the promotion by December 1. I could commute back and forth on week ends until we find a house in DC. Of course, you will have another six months of school to finish out."
"Well, what's the problem? It's more money, nice prestige and maybe a beach front vacation home somewhere, everything we dreamed of."
"Remember when you took that teaching job three years ago. We needed it to pay for Billy and Rosalie's college education. After that we talked about giving money to some charities. Rosalie still needs help paying for her college education. We have enough saved for that."
"So you are saying that instead of a vacation home we should give that money to help the disadvantaged children like we saw in Asia." Lydia envisioned undernourished, straggly haired and poorly dressed dark skinned children running in and out of her cabin by the lake.
"Something like that. Billy wanted to help the disadvantaged in the Third World countries. Maybe that should be our new dream."
Lydia exclaimed. "Are you losing your mind?"
Ralph’s head began jerking, short quick jerks like he was trying to shake off a headache. "I," his eyes squinted and rolled like he was trying regain his focus, "think we should go . . . "he started to stand and fell face down on the floor.
On the other side of the river he walked into a virgin rain forest, a Garden of Eden, an amazing land shrouded by fruit and nut trees, towering timbers bursting with the symphony of birds, chattering monkeys and squirrels, tall luscious ferns, flowers with every color and shape of blossom imaginable, passive lions, tigers and even skunks. A distant voice called, “Come, my son.” He looked and saw the grasses parting leaving a straight path as far as his eye could see. His foot touched the trail and suddenly he glided effortlessly towards the sound of the voice amazed at the magnificence of his surroundings. He could have stayed in that paradise. It would have been enough to have leisurely absorbed the beauty of it all. However, there was no stopping.
A massive gate, encased in walls reaching high and wide loomed before him. Two angels guarded the gate with drawn swords. His feet landed, not on dirt and rocks, sod or pavement, but on a fiery, glowing, golden path leading to the joining of the two massive gates. The gates were not of wood and iron. They gave off a soft reflection of milky white light like the brilliant moonlight on the snowy hills, forest, and meadows of Ohio. Are these the pearly gates he had heard about? Again he heard the voice, “Enter, my chosen one.”
The angels lowered their swords and the gate quietly opened for him to step through. The gates closed shutting out the sounds of the garden. Now he heard the sound of voices singing in jubilation and praise.
“Ralph! Welcome home.” Somebody spoke at his side. Startled, he looked and saw a form of a man with different qualities than he had ever seen before. His face, his hands, body and feet had the appearance of man, except that he could see clear through him. He held out his hand as if to acknowledge the greeting and then quickly withdrew it. It had been changed and looked like that of the stranger.
“What has happened to me? My hands and feet, they look different” He stared at the stranger.
“You left your earthly body outside the gate. The body you now have is immortal and incorruptible. It is made for heaven.”1
Ralph turned towards the stranger, “So this is heaven! And, who are you?” He asked.
“Barachel (Ba-rach-el). It means ‘blessed of God.’ I was sent to bring you to the throne of God. But, first I would like to hear your story. I have been aware of you since you dated Lydia. People on earth are a mystery to me and the rest of the angels. We long to hear the story of how God influenced the lives of men, women and children so that they arrived in heaven.”
“Ba-rach-el must be a name from long ago. How long have you been here?” Ralph wanted to know.
“Almost forever!" Barachel explained. "We don’t have days and nights up here. There is a constant brilliant light and songs of gladness and praise to God on his throne and to his Son at his right hand. From my creation, my beginning, I have been with God serving him. Not everybody here serves God. Before man was created, some of the first beings created rebelled against God. Now they wreak havoc on the earth.”
“Why does God tolerate them in heaven?” Ralph asked.
“They don’t cause trouble in heaven, just on earth. In heaven they know that they have been defeated and must submit to God.2 However, on earth the battle rages for the loyalty of man. You were, like all mankind, a trophy sought by both God and his enemy. That’s why the stories of those who are won over to God’s side are so fascinating.” 3
“What happens to those who are loyal to God’s enemy?” Ralph felt that somehow he should know the answer to his question, although it wasn’t talked about among his friends on earth.
Barachel’s gaze dropped and his face became serious. “Mankind’s loyalty on earth determines with whom he will spend his afterlife. Those who refuse loyalty to God spend their afterlife with his enemy. Man’s destiny is determined by whom he serves.
“Ralph, I have watched over your wife Lydia from her first breath. As you know, she was born premature. When you came into her life during her second year in college, I became interested in your part of the story, especially the last few years of your marriage. You can tell me about your early years in the future. Come! Tell me on our way to the throne.”
"But, my life was not unusual. I mean, I went to work, came home, ate supper, watched TV or read the paper, went to bed, and woke the next morning to eat breakfast and go to work again. It was the routine for nearly every man in Quasitown and elsewhere. Lydia was no different than other wives in Quasitown. She stayed at home, raised our children, cleaned house, cooked meals, went to bed and began the cycle again the next morning. I don't understand why our story is important."
"Ralph, no two people are the same. No two married couples are the same. Yes, they may have a few similarities. Circumstances and environment make everybody's story unique. You said that your story is like nearly every man's in Quasitown. But, you were the only one married to Lydia. You were the only one driving from your home on Maple Street to work at Bells Foreign Imports and with that mix of employees. You have a unique history from birth to college to marriage to death"
"If you insist. . . . But, I still think its humdrum!"
