(AYEP63PT1) I HAVE AN ETERNITY AHEAD OF ME VOL. 2 VICTORY!: AUNTIE YONNY EPISODE 63 Part 1
I HAVE AN ETERNITY AHEAD OF ME VOL. 2 VICTORY!:
(Intermittent Waves Recorded From The Transformed Heart Of A Woman)
AUNTIE YONNY EPISODE 63 Part 1
EVEN THE SAD TIMES DON'T BRING SADNESS, BUT, VICTORY!
2 Samuel 23:12
But he stood in the midst of the ground, and defended it, and slew the Philistines: and the Lord wrought a great victory.
1 Chronicles 29:11
Thine, O Lord is the greatness, and the power, and the glory, and the victory, and the majesty: for all that is in the heaven and in the earth is thine; thine is the kingdom, O Lord, and thou art exalted as head above all.
******************************************************
Shaking his head, Derek Graves tucked himself under the hotel's pillow-soft quilt and stared at the clock. A good night's sleep was what he needed, but, he knew that wouldn't happen until he knew his enemies were dead. His great-grandfather had claimed the Presidency, but, he had never rid himself of his enemies. Derek promised himself that he would not fail, having no desire to end up like his great-grandfather, a vile and hated man, whose presidency was the laughing stock of not only the nation, but, the world.
Earlier, there had been a message on his phone from one of his campaign donors. He wanted to pull out and he wanted his money back. He said that he regretted backing the grandson of a traitor and should have known better to do so in the first place. Derek had no intention of giving anyone's money back, if there was any money left to give back. He had been spending it freely and frequently to support his lavish lifestyle. His businesses were in a shambles ever since Natalie Tiledeler and her newspaper had been meddling in his finances and exposing inconsistencies with taxes and expenditures. Then, she had the audacity to publish the 2016 election data, proof of his great-grandfather stealing the election, right before the current presidential election. This was a direct attack to try and knock him out of the race. Derek relished the idea of shutting down her antiquated newspaper, which he saw as keeping the nation behind in times and technology. Derek spoke out loud.
"It ought to be shut down and that silly little girl needs to be taught a lesson."
For a brief moment, Derek thought about the sinister things he would like to do to Natalie Tiledeler, then, turned his attention to another one of his enemies, mumbling beneath his breath.
Derek thought about Hal and Rachel being back together again and it made his blood boil. The hatred within him seethed between his teeth as he mumbled and he hoped they were both dead. It wasn't revenge for her hurting him or breaking his heart that he wanted. No, it wasn't that he felt anything particular for Rachel, but, he felt that whatever happened to her, she had brought upon herself for betraying him. It wasn't even worth his time thinking about their intimate moments together. She was just a way of getting back at Hal and making him suffer. He didn't want her or the half black bastard she was carrying. He would make sure that she got nothing from their divorce.
Derek closed his eyes, only to find them burning with hatred. He couldn't get comfortable in the bed and blamed the bed for being too soft. He turned his mind toward tomorrow's tasks. Tomorrow would be the day that he proved to everyone that the people still wanted him to be president. He was a winner, he thought. The donors and the party would come begging him to continue on the campaign trail. He knew he had what it takes to draw a crowd. Perhaps, it was something that he had inherited from his great-grandfather, but, he felt that he had perfected it and achieved more respect and status than his great-grandfather ever could.
During his speeches, he stayed far away from anything that might compare him to the corrupt, and tarnished presidency of Willard Graves, a presidency wrought with conspiracies, lies, deceit, cover-ups, bribery, espionage, murder, genocide, treason and traitors. Derek didn't disapprove so much of what his great-grandfather had done. He knew what it took to ensure that things went your way in Washington D.C. You couldn't rely upon congressmen, votes, and lobbyists. Deals had to be made behind closed doors and in darkness and most of the time concessions were made in exchange for money. No, Derek resented his great-grandfather for more than his train-wreck of a presidency. Derek resented him for humiliating his family and making his life difficult.
In order to clean up the family name, Derek never answered reporter's questions concerning the presidency of his great-grandfather or anything that even remotely compared or attached him to him. He even tried not to adopt the same policies, although, no one was ever quite sure what his great-grandfather stood for other than hatred and division. As far as Derek was concerned, he was just another dead president, but, his face would never make it on the top of any United States currency.
A couple of old, die-hard supporters had raised money to put his face on Mount Rushmore, but, that had ended in disaster. Explosives that had been designated for the project ended up in the hands of protesters who blew up the side of the mountain. Native Americans said that they would rather see the mountain become a pile of rocks than to see Willard Graves' face staring at them, daily.
No, Derek had neither gratitude, nor, admiration for Willard Graves and neither did anyone of his other descendants, as far as he knew. By carrying the family name, Graves, all of their lives had been a living hell. After his death, Willard Graves' money was the only thing that held the family together. They had been at odds during his presidency and continued to be at odds from generation to generation. They felt no genuine love for one another. Spending time together during holidays was more for social status and appearances. They needed good publicity to counteract the damage Willard Graves had engraved into their family, the nation, the world, and democracy. Despite the money that they had, they felt isolated and rejected, often feeling like they had been stamped with REJECTED in big letters on their forehead.
Derek looked at the clock. It was the wee hours of the morning and daylight would soon be approaching. He squeezed his eyes as if it would make him fall asleep. Minutes later, still wide-eyed, he grabbed a fifth of liquor and drank half of it. He wasn't a frequent drinker, but, when he drank, he drank a lot. People said his great-grandfather never drank. He didn't believe it or anything good he was told about his great-grandfather. The man was nothing but a liar. Why would anyone believe anything he said or did? Like his father before him, he could care less how his behavior impacted his family or anyone else. He did what he did to get the long sought after attention he longed for from his father. It was always all about him. Derek had seen it in his own father, it was like he had no feelings and only cared about himself. Willard Graves had passed down his narcissistic genes in spades, with thousands to spare.
Deep down inside, Derek feared the same truth about himself, but, he would never admit it. He had to be different and he would make sure that everyone saw that he and his presidency would be better. That's why tomorrow was so important. He had to stop thinking about his sociopathic family and get some sleep. Bitterly, gripping the bottle of liquor, Derek cursed his great-grandfather's name and gulped down the rest of the bottle. Soon, he was out like a light.
******************************************************
Natalie Tiledeler opened her eyes and realized that she had fallen asleep. Her head still resting upon the desk, she grabbed her cellphone to see what time it was. It was well past midnight and she hadn't even made a dent in the stack of papers surrounding her like a fort. Suddenly, jerking her head upright, she blurted out,
"Where is Hal?!"
She slid her shoes under the desk back onto her feet and stood up. Something was wrong and she knew it. It was that old Tiledeler gut feeling that a story was brewing. It was time to go do some investigating of her own. Feeling perturbed that Hal could abandon her in her time of need, she dialed his number. The phone rang and went to voicemail.
"Hal!?"
As the voicemail message continued, Natalie, realizing then that she was talking to a machine, threw her head back and cursed. She almost hung up, but, decided to leave Hal a much deserved message.
"Hal! This is Natalie! Why aren't you answering your phone?! Are you screening your calls?! Have... have you blocked me, Hal?! I'm your partner! I've been doing my best to help you out. Now...now...you won't even answer my calls? Are you bailing out just when I need you the most?! I'm coming over, Hal! Don't go anywhere! I don't care what time it is! We need to talk! (Natalie sighed and paused, tears began to well up in her eyes.) The paper...I'm in trouble...I...I...don't know what to do. I'll be there in...in an hour."
Natalie hung up the phone and hated herself for sounding desperate. She wanted to give Hal a piece of her mind, but, what good would that do? She gathered a stack of papers to take with her. Maybe she'd find the time to check them at home. While stuffing them into her briefcase, the ringing of her phone startled her, causing her to drop some of the papers. Cursing, she answered. It was Roy who covered the hospital and chased ambulances for news stories.
"Hello, Roy, what's up?"
"Natalie, I think you better get down here to the hospital!"
"Why? What's going on?"
"WHEW! Where do I begin?! A WHOLE LOT IS GOING ON! I mean, there's too much for me to cover by myself. There's got to be five or six, or...or...or, who KNOWS how many stories are going on here. I've got a source here who told me there have been murders and attempted murders, RIGHT HERE IN THE HOSPITAL! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?! On top of that there's a gang fight going on and they're bringing in bodies left and right to the morgue. I've counted five ambulances so far. NATALIE, NATALIE! You're going to want to call a few reporters and cameramen to get down here RIGHT AWAY!"
Natalie took a deep breath, looking at the mess she had just made, which would slow her down a bit.
"Okay. Give me a minute. I'll make some calls on my way down there."
Natalie thought about how she had told Hal she was coming to talk to him. It would have to wait until the morning. Grabbing her briefcase, she decided to call the Editor-in-Chief to have him send reporters and cameramen to the hospital. The growling of her stomach made her realize how hungry and thirsty she was. She had missed dinner, so, she grabbed a sandwich and soda out of the refrigerator that despite her father being gone, was still kept well stocked by the employees. They had great respect for him, she mused. One day, she hoped to gain the same support and respect. That meant fighting to keep the paper alive and preserving their jobs. Natalie headed for the elevator with new determination. Whatever was happening tonight was news, news that would benefit The Tribune and its employees. She had to get to the hospital fast.
******************************************************
In our most anxious moments, we can forget to cast our eyes toward Heaven and trust God. We can forget that we are not alone. Our armor is then peeled away as we begin to lean to our own understanding and lose hope and faith. We detach ourselves from The Vine (Christ Jesus) and the fruitfulness that He produces within us. We become so attached to fear that we consider it to be a natural response and a sustainable condition.
God has made our bodies to be much more than a chemical reaction to our environment and circumstances. The toll that anxiety and fear take upon our body can be permanently damaging, causing multiple illnesses physically, mentally, and spiritually. In our abundant life, in our Kingdom life, instead of reacting to the world around us, we must first look to God who is within us, always. We must retrain our minds and bodies from the habits they have formed when we knew not from whence our help cometh. We were but babes in the woods, unfamiliar with our surroundings, feeling helpless and alone.
Walking by faith and not by sight assures our footing within the world. You might not think that, because fear has trained you to doubt. Fear has trained you to worry. Fear trained you to want to be in control. Fear has trained you to react compulsively. Fear has trained you to lash out at others and to curse to try and alleviate your pain. Fear has trained you to drug and abuse your body. Fear has trained you to be proud and stubborn. In other words, fear has trained you to detach yourself from God and His Character. Yet, when, every step we make is made with God, who is the power, the glory, and the majesty, we walk in victory with Him. Even in sad times, there is no need for sadness, for we know the victory is ours. As God has ordained it, that in the end, we win.
Therefore, times of adversity are only teachable moments to elevate us so that we are better equipped to conquer the world. Grief was not meant to be lived as a lifestyle. Pain was not meant to have us live as an open wound. Sin, shame, and guilt was not meant to define who we are. During times of adversity, we must then, begin by checking our footing, so, that we are not leaning to our own understanding. So, that we are not carried away by the influence of darkness, forgetting who we are and that we are not alone. We have a God to walk and talk to at all times. We have a God that cares about our every need and desire. We must remind ourselves that we are not alone and have a Father who loves us beyond our understanding. This perfect love for us will drive out all fear, as we can rest assured that whatever happens, come what may, it happens because it is part of God's plan for our lives. We must never forget that our Father always wants the best for us, even when it involves turning the bad into good.
******************************************************
When Hal got to Rachel's room there was no one there. Panicking, he went to the nurse's station to ask if she had been moved to another room. The nurse on duty checked the computer and saw no change had been made. Seeing the anxiety in Hal's eyes, she quickly told him to check the nursery to see if Rachel had gone to check on her baby.
Hal's mind raced faster than his feet that sped to the nursery in no time at all. He could see Hurley's maniacal face and his stomach turned thinking about him near Rachel and his baby. -But, Wendell had said that he killed Hurley. Nonetheless, Hal's mind thought of the worst scenario and tears rushed to his eyes. A lump formed in his throat as the thought of Rachel and David being dead unfolded like a nightmarish reality in his mind. His heart was seared with pain from the cutting edge of the gruesome imagery which struck him like a sword.
Pressing his hands upon the glass of the nursery window, he desperately searched the baby cribs for his son's name. He searched a second time, without finding David Siegfried-Graves. His need to know at that very moment, his urgent desire to be in control and have proof that they were alive, sent him into despair and it felt as if his heart sunk down to his feet. He was unaware of his weakening body that could not withstand the stress and pressure he was putting upon it. Then, he heard a baby's cry. Turning his head, he looked over his right shoulder to see the room behind the nursery where they kept the premature babies. He stared at the women inside. There was a nurse and a familiar face. Pressing his nose against the glass, he made out the face to be Darla.
"Darla?! What is Darla doing here?!"
Without thinking or caring about the babies behind the glass, guided by Hal's impatience, Hal's fist pounded upon the window, causing such a raucous, that some of the babies began to squirm and cry. Automatically, the nurse hurried to the door to comfort the babies. Upon seeing Hal anxiously pounding upon the window, she told him to come to the side door.
Hal went to the side door and tried to open it. It was locked. Impatience compelled him not to wait, he began jiggling the door handle and knocking on the door. He could see the nurse coming, but, she wasn't coming to open the door. Hal gasped from his breathing being irregular. Nervously, he had been sporadically holding his breath, starving his lungs that were much in need of oxygen. Depriving his mind and body from oxygen, still shaking from the toxic drugs injected to him by the Russian mercenaries, not having recovered from the fear, stress, and noise of gunfire, and fatigued from running for his life and a lack of sleep and rest, Hal was headed for a major melt down. His entire body was traumatized.
"What could she be doing?!" He demanded to know within his mind. Then, he looked at a red box next to him where a woman's voice was giving him instructions.
"Do you have a band, sir? Scan the band on the scanner next to the intercom."
"NO! I DON'T HAVE A BAND! I'M LOOKING FOR MY SON AND HIS MOTHER!"
"Sir, without a band I can't let you in or give information about our patients here."
"I'M LOOKING FOR DAVID AND RACHEL SIEGFRIED. I MEAN GRAVES. SIEGFRIED-GRAVES."
"Sir, I cannot divulge that information. I'm going to have to ask you to leave or I'll have to call security."
Hal became very irritated and distraught. He couldn't think straight with all of the frustration, fear, and confusion in his mind, but, he had to make the nurse understand.
"LISTEN!"
"Sir, I'm calling security. Please leave."
"NO, DON'T!" Hal knew that as a Black man, the last thing he needed was for security to come and find him being disruptive and threatening.
"I'M SORRY IF I ALARMED YOU!"
"There's no need to yell, sir. I can hear you."
Hal took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
"I-I-I'm sorry if I alarmed you. My name...my name is Hal Siegfried-Graves. I'm looking for Rachel...Rachel Graves and David Siegfried-Graves. I know that lady in there...the older lady sitting down. She can vouch for me. Her name is Darla. She's my secretary."
The nurse turned around and looked at Darla sitting in the preemie nursery. Hesitantly, she started walking back to the room. Hal could see her talking to Darla.
When Darla heard Hal's name, she jumped up and almost ran to the door. She tried to say something to Hal, but, he couldn't hear her. After practically trying to pry the doorknob off, she finally asked the nurse to open the door.
Darla darted out of the door towards Hal. Unexpectedly, Hal found Darla's arms around his neck. She was crying into his shoulder, trying to tell him something, but, her words were garbled and incoherent. Compassionately, he began to pat her back. Darla backed up a little, still holding on to Hal.
"I th-thought you were dead." Darla looked into Hal's eyes and saw the shock. "I'm sorry, but, I don't know who's alive and who's dead, Hal. I don't know anything anymore. Tanya's gone and I miss her so much. She would tell me exactly what to do in times like these. Now, all I know is that this is one big catastrophe. I don't know what to do, Hal. I don't know what to do. I came here thinking I could help like this. -Thinking about Poor Zenobia...poor Rachel...and the babies..."
Darla broke out in uncontrollable tears and hysterics. Hal wrapped his arms around her and led her to a seat. He had always known Darla to be someone under complete control and able to command and orchestrate any and everything that came her way. Feeling somewhat awkward, He searched for a handkerchief in his pocket to soak up her endless river of fluids beginning to soak through his shirt. He didn't have a handkerchief to offer Darla, so, he looked around and found some baby wipes on a changing table. Relieved that Darla was now draining into something more appropriate and calming down, he began questioning her.
"Darla, it's dangerous being here. What are you doing here in the midst of all this danger? I need you somewhere safe where I can reach you when I need help. Do you know where Rachel and David are, Darla? Tell me. Have you seen them or heard anything about them?"
Blowing her nose, Darla pointed straight ahead into the nursery. Hal jumped up ready to head for the door, then, hesitated, remembering what happened the last time he spoke to the nurse and tried to get behind that door. Timidly, he asked Darla again.
"Are you sure they're in there?"
"Yes, I was taking care of Little Tanya, I-I-I mean Zenobia's baby, when she came down to get David. She wanted to try breastfeeding again, she said. She stayed to keep me and the baby company."
Hal gave a little grin and asked Darla, "It's...it's a girl?"
"Yes, congratulations, it's a girl!"
Hal looked at Darla, oddly. This is the last place he would expect to find her. She just didn't seem like the childrearing and babysitting type. Neither, did she usually get involved in his personal affairs. He didn't want to upset Darla again, so, he chose his next words carefully.
"Thank you, so much for taking care of Zenobia's baby...my baby...I mean our baby."
It was apparent that Hal was struggling with embarrassment and guilt. Here he was, a father of two babies and their mothers were in the hospital at the same time. Even worse, he didn't know when the baby was born and if it was a boy or a girl. Wendell and Nigel failed to mention that while they were clowning around and using him for a pin cushion. Not wanting to look like a total jerk, he inquired about Zenobia and the baby.
"How is the baby doing and do you know how Zenobia is?"
Darla's face lit up as if she were talking about her own child.
"Oh, Little Tanya is so beautiful! She's got beautiful eyes and the cutest little nose. No offense, but, I think she takes after her mother. -And her hair is so long and curly. -And she's strong! When she grabbed my finger I thought she wanted to tear it off!"
Darla managed a brief laugh, showing that talking about the baby had relieved most of the stress that had sent her into a tizzy.
"She may be tiny and premature, but, the nurse says she's taking in fluids and doing just what she's supposed to be doing...you know...wetting her diaper and such. When I rub her back, I think she smiles and coos. I got to burp her one time and boy it was a big one! She's going to be a good eater. I can tell. When I said her name, I tell you, she looked at me and tried to talk. I know that some people believe that babies can't talk this early, but, I believe that they try to say what's on their mind, but, we just can't understand them. You know?"
Embarrassed about her rambling on about Hal's baby, Darla stopped and hung her head down, pretending to need to wipe her nose. She knew that this was not the Darla Hal was used to seeing.
Hal thought he had Darla all figured out, but, seeing her now, he guessed he had been wrong. Here she was stepping in where he should have been. Instead, he was with Rachel. What was he thinking when he got involved with Zenobia? Yet, they both seemed to want to see where their relationship would lead. They were both caught up in feelings they had no desire to control and they both were grieving a loss. Still, he thought, that was no excuse for his behavior. His father had tried to warn him. What would his father think now, with Zenobia lying in the hospital close to death? He had shielded her and the baby in the car and more than likely saved their lives that day. He was willing to die for Zenobia and his grandchild. His father would expect him to do the right thing and be there for Zenobia and the baby. He knew that if his father were alive, he would be right beside her this very moment.
Hal felt that he had never really appreciated what a good man his father was. It was easier to see his flaws so that he could justify trying to be different and not returning to his childhood upbringing to trust and obey God. Hal was so torn and conflicted inside that he wanted to scream. His whole body felt pinned up and filled with agonizing emotions.
"-And Zenobia? Any news about her condition?"
"Well, I haven't checked lately, Hal, but, before I came they told me she was still in critical condition."
"AAAAAAHH!"
Hal let out a gut wrenching scream and fell to his knees. Covering his mouth, he stifled the involuntary cries that escaped, due to the pressing pain upon his heart. He didn't know why he expected to hear better news. Perhaps, it would have eased his conscience and diminished his growing pain, knowing that Zenobia was improving and her baby would have a mother to love and take care of her.
Thinking of the consequences of his behavior, how he had hurt others, and perhaps, even killed others, a sickening and loathing feeling seemed to ooze through his body overwhelming him, making him hate himself and the money that had helped to fill his life with death, corruption, destruction, and yes, sin. He had involved not only two innocent women, but, two innocent children in a dangerous game that he wasn't even sure that he could win. He was playing with men who seemed to have no conscience or morals and he'd had to stoop to their level and get his hands dirty. Now, he was reaping what he had sown.
Darla came to Hal's side and wrapped her arms around him, trying to pull him up. He didn't have the strength, so, she too, knelt down. Holding him, she began to rock him in her arms, tears streaming down her face, silently weeping, filled with motherly instincts that she never knew she possessed.
Comments
Post a Comment