Erased, a novel
Chapter 7- Separating Levels of Doubt
Tayeton- There's something about knowing someone wants you dead that makes you determined to live. It wasn't that I thought the power was all mine, but whatever voice I had in the matter I was sure ready to use. I hadn't even made it to my first wedding anniversary, and I'd just caught a new wind of life when I met Kat. No way I was ready to give it all up. Yet, there was no reasonable doubt that some cowardly and yet brazen body behind dark tints had tried to bump me out of the obvious grace I'd stumbled on. I'd been driving since the age of sixteen, and I knew what a mishap on the road felt like. It usually got your heart racing and made you more cautious, but it hardly got you taking an account of your life. I'd somehow seen it coming, and by coming I mean than close second right before come. It's no way I was supposed to jump lanes right then. And to let me know I hadn't overreacted, I could see the shadow of the driver looking into my car as he was aborting the mission. I could barely find the strength beyond my knees to keep my car moving, but I kept moving to the right until I was off to the shoulder. My face was warm and more heat was rushing up from beneath the surface. My eyes had already began to water. My body was reacting and responding to information I wasn't even sure I'd given to it. I couldn't in my haste to get off the road. Finally at a stop, I tried my best to see if there were anymore cars coming at me. I drew my visor and slid the cover to the mirror across so I could catch all the angles behind me. The sun was just going down and I still had a pretty good view of things. I tried to think what would be the next logical step; keep going or stay put was the question I mostly tried to answer. Still, the weakness in my knees kept me stationary. Suddenly, I remembered to pray. It was something I'd grown to forget. It's nothing against God, life had simply gotten too good and I'd gotten forgetful. This was more than a good reminder. As I slowly let go of my fear and anxiety, I closed my eyes to pray. It was simple. They always were. I just asked for what I needed. "God help me." was my prayer. Moment's later there was a wave of calm and clarity and an instruction to call my father in-law. He was the other Shepherd in my life. Well, he'd become one of three. It may sound confusing to have three Shepherd's, but they never got in each other's way. My wife was like the silent partner, always giving me the space to find my next step but never far away with a word of insight. Mr. Shepherd was more like a book. His depth was always earth shaking. And God, well I'm still at a loss. I keep trying to sum Him up, but it never really works. Whatever He is, He'd surely proven to be present.
I placed the call to my father in-law, and rerouted my plans. I wouldn't be home for a while. I was on my way to Shepherd's Engines and only God knew what he'd engineered for me this day.
(Continued)
I woke up still between perception and reality. The daylight flooding the room through the shear white curtains forced me to turn and face my wife. We were hardly cuddlers. It was no immediate difference; Kat carrying large amounts of life and her own sunlight only made me more awake. I made my way to the kitchen in my funk. I usually showered then ate, but I couldn't let go of my questions about the night before and thought maybe I could distract myself. It wasn't just the things that had taken place before I'd made the call to my father in-law, but the things that happened after I'd made my way to Shepherd Engines. I'd gone with the expectation to get a bit of his usual wisdom, but I'd fallen on some of the Shepherd's secrets. I sat with a glass of orange juice in front of me. It was all I could manage to put together... remembering the large stock yard and all the mechanics who were somewhat of guard dogs to a completely underground operation. The tall cement wall was a border that divided the good from the bad. It didn't look like the kind of thing the good would be involved in, but Mr. Shepherd's words kept a clear marker between the two. The moment I'd described to him the incident on the freeway, he'd popped up from his seat.
"They're bumpers. I know this MO very well. It's the easiest story to sell. Most times they don't even come in contact. If they do it's botched. The idea is to cause a reaction; usually a deadly one. You're blessed... they usually run a battery. So, how did you get on the radar of big business?"
"What radar?" I was listening more than I'd been thinking. Furthermore, I had no knowledge of the big business Mr. Shepherd was talking about. As far as I knew, Simpleton and Fisher was technically a small business with less than fifty employees. Sure we had a few well known projects, but I didn't consider it a large enterprise.
"Well someone thinks you're big business. More troubling, someone wants you dead. Tell me about this company you work for?" He walked over to a small wooden table near one of two windows in the room and removed a bundle of keys. He hooked them on to his pants and returned to his seat. I didn't know if any of this had anything to do with what we were discussing, but I was paying close attention. Mr. Shepherd was captivating by nature and always seemed to be a part of something greater than himself. He was also not a fragile built, and the way he commanded the people around him made you aware of his power.
"It's a small to mid level publisher in Hollywood. Simpleton and Fisher."
"Fisher? As in Tayeton Fisher?"
"Right." I always tried to keep my relation to the company less of a focal point.
"That's pretty big business, don't you think?" He responded with his eyes planted on his computer screen and fingers moving effortlessly up and down.
"Have you ever studied the company's logo? It looks like there might be some foreign affiliation. I'll see what I can find out, but let's get you padded. A man can't survive in big business without some padding." He'd exited the room enthusiastically, and it did help to ease my nerves.
Now they'd returned as I was faced with more perspective than I'd wanted. I'd tried to stay out of the way at Simpleton and Fisher, but it was no secret I was bringing in the business. I'd gone beyond the role of molding and Shaping our new acquisitions to ushering them in. I had a unique position being mentored by Mr. Simpleton and hanging around with Walter who was the head of marketing, and I was slowly finding my way. It wasn't anything strategic. It was just an organic blossoming. Now, here I was, the target of bumpers as my father in-law called them. Still, it was all so blurry. The reality of it; the possibility of it, and for the first time I thought about going back to a simpler time. Although a simpler time may have been a time before I'd been named.
As I kept going down the halls of my mind, I couldn't leave behind the quiet halls at Shepherd Engines, with their pristine whiteness. When we'd made three left turns, we'd finally made a right and walked up to a door with no labels. All the others had said something. Most of the ones we'd passed after the second left had boldly warned "For Authorized Personnel Only" but this one, nothing. Mr. Shepherd had kept his body close to the door as he entered a code into the key pad, while I stayed just a few feet behind. The moment I stepped behind the mysterious door was the moment that had left me wondering if I'd walked onto a movie set, and had added to my newest anxieties. It's something about reasonable doubt that keeps me questioning it all. And just when I couldn't question anymore, I walked over to the front door and opened it to see a car that was not my own parked in the driveway. Then I knew it was not a dream or some dark corner of human perception, but my new life.
I got to Simpleton and Fisher at nine nonetheless. I kept my greetings short and moved right for my floor. Off the elevator and in my room, I sat for another few minutes. Then something said to me, "Check in on Walter." I made it to the third floor and past Mr. Simpleton's office without him calling me in. Walter's door was open as usual, and I walked right in like I'd done on many occasions but his face was shocked, and I had more than startled him. He'd received me as if I was a ghost, and I suddenly thought of a reason why I needed to postpone my visit. I exited the building, forgetting to make eye contact with anyone. On the outside I caught my breath swiftly, and gasped for more. Everything had changed in an official way. I thought about Kat, and what danger she might be in, and I remembered voicing my concerns to Mr. Shepherd the night before. I didn't understand all of what was meant, but he'd instructed me that there were covenants in place to keep her safe, and that I should take care of myself.
I stood in the middle of the parking lot with my eyes searching the skies. I'd been quick to call my advancements a blessing, but now I wasn't so sure. Now I needed a God I could see; a God I could read. But I had to rest my young faith on one whose face I could not read and one I could not see.
Erased, a novel
Copyright 2018 by Natisha Renee Williams, All Rights Reserved
Grace Call Communications, LLC Copyright 2018
Chapter 7- Separating Levels of Doubt
Tayeton- There's something about knowing someone wants you dead that makes you determined to live. It wasn't that I thought the power was all mine, but whatever voice I had in the matter I was sure ready to use. I hadn't even made it to my first wedding anniversary, and I'd just caught a new wind of life when I met Kat. No way I was ready to give it all up. Yet, there was no reasonable doubt that some cowardly and yet brazen body behind dark tints had tried to bump me out of the obvious grace I'd stumbled on. I'd been driving since the age of sixteen, and I knew what a mishap on the road felt like. It usually got your heart racing and made you more cautious, but it hardly got you taking an account of your life. I'd somehow seen it coming, and by coming I mean than close second right before come. It's no way I was supposed to jump lanes right then. And to let me know I hadn't overreacted, I could see the shadow of the driver looking into my car as he was aborting the mission. I could barely find the strength beyond my knees to keep my car moving, but I kept moving to the right until I was off to the shoulder. My face was warm and more heat was rushing up from beneath the surface. My eyes had already began to water. My body was reacting and responding to information I wasn't even sure I'd given to it. I couldn't in my haste to get off the road. Finally at a stop, I tried my best to see if there were anymore cars coming at me. I drew my visor and slid the cover to the mirror across so I could catch all the angles behind me. The sun was just going down and I still had a pretty good view of things. I tried to think what would be the next logical step; keep going or stay put was the question I mostly tried to answer. Still, the weakness in my knees kept me stationary. Suddenly, I remembered to pray. It was something I'd grown to forget. It's nothing against God, life had simply gotten too good and I'd gotten forgetful. This was more than a good reminder. As I slowly let go of my fear and anxiety, I closed my eyes to pray. It was simple. They always were. I just asked for what I needed. "God help me." was my prayer. Moment's later there was a wave of calm and clarity and an instruction to call my father in-law. He was the other Shepherd in my life. Well, he'd become one of three. It may sound confusing to have three Shepherd's, but they never got in each other's way. My wife was like the silent partner, always giving me the space to find my next step but never far away with a word of insight. Mr. Shepherd was more like a book. His depth was always earth shaking. And God, well I'm still at a loss. I keep trying to sum Him up, but it never really works. Whatever He is, He'd surely proven to be present.
I placed the call to my father in-law, and rerouted my plans. I wouldn't be home for a while. I was on my way to Shepherd's Engines and only God knew what he'd engineered for me this day.
(Continued)
I woke up still between perception and reality. The daylight flooding the room through the shear white curtains forced me to turn and face my wife. We were hardly cuddlers. It was no immediate difference; Kat carrying large amounts of life and her own sunlight only made me more awake. I made my way to the kitchen in my funk. I usually showered then ate, but I couldn't let go of my questions about the night before and thought maybe I could distract myself. It wasn't just the things that had taken place before I'd made the call to my father in-law, but the things that happened after I'd made my way to Shepherd Engines. I'd gone with the expectation to get a bit of his usual wisdom, but I'd fallen on some of the Shepherd's secrets. I sat with a glass of orange juice in front of me. It was all I could manage to put together... remembering the large stock yard and all the mechanics who were somewhat of guard dogs to a completely underground operation. The tall cement wall was a border that divided the good from the bad. It didn't look like the kind of thing the good would be involved in, but Mr. Shepherd's words kept a clear marker between the two. The moment I'd described to him the incident on the freeway, he'd popped up from his seat.
"They're bumpers. I know this MO very well. It's the easiest story to sell. Most times they don't even come in contact. If they do it's botched. The idea is to cause a reaction; usually a deadly one. You're blessed... they usually run a battery. So, how did you get on the radar of big business?"
"What radar?" I was listening more than I'd been thinking. Furthermore, I had no knowledge of the big business Mr. Shepherd was talking about. As far as I knew, Simpleton and Fisher was technically a small business with less than fifty employees. Sure we had a few well known projects, but I didn't consider it a large enterprise.
"Well someone thinks you're big business. More troubling, someone wants you dead. Tell me about this company you work for?" He walked over to a small wooden table near one of two windows in the room and removed a bundle of keys. He hooked them on to his pants and returned to his seat. I didn't know if any of this had anything to do with what we were discussing, but I was paying close attention. Mr. Shepherd was captivating by nature and always seemed to be a part of something greater than himself. He was also not a fragile built, and the way he commanded the people around him made you aware of his power.
"It's a small to mid level publisher in Hollywood. Simpleton and Fisher."
"Fisher? As in Tayeton Fisher?"
"Right." I always tried to keep my relation to the company less of a focal point.
"That's pretty big business, don't you think?" He responded with his eyes planted on his computer screen and fingers moving effortlessly up and down.
"Have you ever studied the company's logo? It looks like there might be some foreign affiliation. I'll see what I can find out, but let's get you padded. A man can't survive in big business without some padding." He'd exited the room enthusiastically, and it did help to ease my nerves.
Now they'd returned as I was faced with more perspective than I'd wanted. I'd tried to stay out of the way at Simpleton and Fisher, but it was no secret I was bringing in the business. I'd gone beyond the role of molding and Shaping our new acquisitions to ushering them in. I had a unique position being mentored by Mr. Simpleton and hanging around with Walter who was the head of marketing, and I was slowly finding my way. It wasn't anything strategic. It was just an organic blossoming. Now, here I was, the target of bumpers as my father in-law called them. Still, it was all so blurry. The reality of it; the possibility of it, and for the first time I thought about going back to a simpler time. Although a simpler time may have been a time before I'd been named.
As I kept going down the halls of my mind, I couldn't leave behind the quiet halls at Shepherd Engines, with their pristine whiteness. When we'd made three left turns, we'd finally made a right and walked up to a door with no labels. All the others had said something. Most of the ones we'd passed after the second left had boldly warned "For Authorized Personnel Only" but this one, nothing. Mr. Shepherd had kept his body close to the door as he entered a code into the key pad, while I stayed just a few feet behind. The moment I stepped behind the mysterious door was the moment that had left me wondering if I'd walked onto a movie set, and had added to my newest anxieties. It's something about reasonable doubt that keeps me questioning it all. And just when I couldn't question anymore, I walked over to the front door and opened it to see a car that was not my own parked in the driveway. Then I knew it was not a dream or some dark corner of human perception, but my new life.
I got to Simpleton and Fisher at nine nonetheless. I kept my greetings short and moved right for my floor. Off the elevator and in my room, I sat for another few minutes. Then something said to me, "Check in on Walter." I made it to the third floor and past Mr. Simpleton's office without him calling me in. Walter's door was open as usual, and I walked right in like I'd done on many occasions but his face was shocked, and I had more than startled him. He'd received me as if I was a ghost, and I suddenly thought of a reason why I needed to postpone my visit. I exited the building, forgetting to make eye contact with anyone. On the outside I caught my breath swiftly, and gasped for more. Everything had changed in an official way. I thought about Kat, and what danger she might be in, and I remembered voicing my concerns to Mr. Shepherd the night before. I didn't understand all of what was meant, but he'd instructed me that there were covenants in place to keep her safe, and that I should take care of myself.
I stood in the middle of the parking lot with my eyes searching the skies. I'd been quick to call my advancements a blessing, but now I wasn't so sure. Now I needed a God I could see; a God I could read. But I had to rest my young faith on one whose face I could not read and one I could not see.
Erased, a novel
Copyright 2018 by Natisha Renee Williams, All Rights Reserved
Grace Call Communications, LLC Copyright 2018
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