Journal #160

I have not written in my journal in such a long time, but now it is time to once again write. The reason for my long absence is quite simple, I was angry and struggling with my health. In February I was diagnosed with pre-diabetes, high blood pressure, and high cholesterol. I had let my weight balloon to a whopping sixty-five pounds over my max weight ( according to the weight chart hanging on my doctors wall,) of one-hundred and five pounds. I was angry at myself because I had let it happen, and because I had let food take charge of me, instead of the other way around. When my doctor told me it was either lose weight or die, and that is how he put it, I knew it was time to put everything aside, even my writing, and take charge of my life. I left the doctor’s office and came home and cried. Of course I did not let my husband see me cry, but I had to have my pity party before I could settle down and start my battle of the bulge. My pants size of sixteen was disgusting, not to mention that I really needed to be wearing a size eighteen instead; so I started to work on me. First thing I did was to buy a pair of size four shorts, which I started trying them on once a week. As you can imagine it was like trying to put a baby elephant into a diaper meant for a toddler. None-the-less I continued the self-torture of my weekly reminder of what I was hoping to accomplish, and pulled those darn little shorts up almost to my knees. According to Dr. Padget I was to stop eating anything that had sugar in it. This list included, along with the obvious sugar filled deserts, potatoes, pasta, and rice. I was to make sure that I ate seafood at least three times a week, chicken, minus the skin twice a week, and I was allowed steak with the fat trimmed, as well as lean pork only once a week. Can tuna packed in water along with fresh vegetables and fruit were the prefered lunch items. My doctor did not give me a complete list and I felt as though there was nothing left that I could eat. I was disgusted and angry with my few skimpy choices of food items, and I could not see myself eating meat and vegetables only for the rest of my life. I suppose you could say I was looking for an excuse to give up when I decided to go on-line to research my options, and what I found there gave me the will to fight and hope for my future. I started with looking up the American Heart association’s list of healthy foods, as well as the American Diabetes Association Diet, and found that if I followed their diets, as if I had full-blown heart problems as well as Diabetes, that I had plenty of food options that actually pleased me. I also ordered a wonderful little book called “The Shoppers Guide to GI Values,” and I plunged into the beginning of the rest of my life. I am proud to say that even though I am not yet to the desired max weight, for a five foot two-inch woman, I am now wearing my size four shorts, and they are not tight on me. I feel  so much better about myself, and I know that as long as I eat healthy I will continue feeling this way, as well as not being ashamed of my size. If I continue losing five pounds a month, I will be at my desired weight by Christmas. If you wish to know more about how to go about taking charge of your weight and life, or just need a little support in your own efforts of weight lose, then feel free to respond to this journal entry and ask your questions. I will answer as quickly as possible.


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Journal #159

Wow! it has been such a long time since I have written in this journal, but I had decided to take off for the summer break. It feels as though I haven’t written for months, and I find that I miss writing. I must tell the truth, so when I say that I have not had a new story idea pop into my mind at all these last few week, unfortunately it is the truth. The only good thing about my summer vacation is that I have immersed myself into my reading, and I do love to read. One of my favorite authors, J.D. Rob, (Nora Roberts,) is due to release her latest FBI book on June 28th and I can hardly wait. Of course if I had it my way I would have her write a book a week, but sadly it is not possible for her to do so. J.K. Rowling is to announce her latest book in the Harry Potter series soon, or so I have been told. Now that is a book I will gladly buy, when it is finally offered. I loved the movies of course, however the books are always better, in my opinion. I have just discovered F. Paul Wilson and his “Repairman Jack” series which are wonderfully written. Hid genre is sci-fi and his style is easy-going and personable. I truly felt as if I personally got to know Jack and the crew while reading his books. To me, and my way of thinking, this is the sign I look for in my ‘A’ list authors. I am going to try to wait till classes start-up before I start back writing my stories, however… whether I can or not remains to be seen. I hope everyone’s summer is their personal best.

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Murgha Kari (Chicken Curry with Tomatoes)

Cooking time = 30 minutes, Use Large skillet with lid.

4 medium Onions, chopped

2 tablespoons Curry Powder

1/2 cup Cooking oil

1 can Tomato Sauce

3 medium tomatoes (chopped)

1 teaspoons Salt (optional)

1 frying Chicken (disjointed and skin chicken)

3/4 cup Hot Water

Cook onions and curry powder in oil for 10 to 15 minutes. Add tomato sauce, tomatoes, salt, and chicken. Cook uncovered over medium heat, turning frequently until sauce becomes dry and chicken tests done with fork, (about 35 to 40 minutes.) Add water, cover with lid and simmer on low heat for 5 minutes. Serve over rice.

Lynn Goh’s Perfect Rice Recipe =

2 cups rinsed rice

3 cups water

1 dash of salt

Measure rice into a medium size sauce pan and rinse rice two or three times. Pour the 3 cups of water and salt into sauce pan and add salt. Bring to boil then stir once and cover with lid and turn heat down to simmer. Simmer for 15 minutes and stir rice, then put lid back on and cook for 5 more minutes. Taste rice to see if it is done, if not then cover and let cook for 5 more minutes.

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Journal #158

Finally…, I have finished chapter 22 of “The Bar.” It took me long enough to figure out exactly how I wanted to lead into the next part of Candace’s problems, but at least I now know which way I want the story to go. I suppose I will never understand how a character can take over a story and make the writer bend to his/her will, however they do rule the roost, so to speak. I will try to get the next chapter of “Mrs. Pettyjohn’s School of knowledge” as soon as possible. I am also writing two other short stories, hopefully I am not trying to write too many stories at once. Time will tell, or so I am told.

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“The Bar” Chapter XXII

Leaning over to whisper in Gloria’s ear, Mead whispered, “we’re taking bets on when wedding
bells will ring for those two, you want in?”

“I’ll take November of next year, if it’s not already taken,” Gloria told him, a blissful smile starting to form.

“That long, Gloria? I think they will set the date for May. Six months will be long enough for those two to wait,” Sheila whispered as the headed for the first hut.

Stacks and Candace walked into the small Indian hut and were surprised to see what they would call a fully furnished home. There were two piles of furs on the floor that appeared to be bedding. Stacks of doe skin clothing, and moccasins for what looked like one man, a woman, and a little boy, were neatly stacked behind the beds. Three large gourds and wooden spoons were stacked neatly next to the clothing. There was a large bowl made from rock sitting in the middle of a dug out fire pit in the center of the hut. Bows, quivers of arrows, and two long lances lay out on the floor on the opposite side of the small room, completed the meager collection of this little family. This was the only proof that these were once living, breathing, people of a long ago, all but forgotten, American past.

“I feel as if they should be returning soon. It is so sad to know that these people were never known or missed by our ancestors,” Candace said with a sigh.

“I think they were missed, maybe by one of your own ancestors. This has the look of a shrine of sorts, from what I can tell. See how clean the fire pit is? If I’m right, and I hope I am, the rest of the huts will be just as orderly and clean as this one”

“I hope your right Stacks. It would be just too sad and depressing if you’re wrong,” Candace
told him.

“I agree with Stacks,” Collins said as he ducked his head and walked into the hut. Blaster and I both noticed how orderly everything was when we were here last night.”

There were fifty-two huts arranged in a spiral pattern around what looked to be an open air long house. Rothman told them that the long house was probably where tribal meetings, as well as celebrations had once been held. The long house held large baskets filled with some kind of grain and ears of dried corn. On one of the wooden posts, that held up the building, wooden pegs had been fitted into holes. A beautiful long elaborately beaded headdress, a cape made from animal skins, an intricately carved long bow, and a beautiful hand tooled quiver filled with arrows were hung there, waiting for a ceremony that would never come.

“These had to have belonged to their chief,” Blaster whispered. His voice filled with wonder and respect as he spoke.

“I wish I knew the name of the tribe who lived here,” Candace said, looking as if she was going to cry.

“You know Candace, you may find their name, as well as their story, in some of those chests you have in the house,” Gloria said as she put her arm around Candace and gave her an affectionate hug.

Candace brightened at the thought and hugged her back as she said, “Thank you for reminding me.”

After what felt like hours, Mead headed off towards the small stream that meandered along
behind the huts to fill the glass Mason jar he had brought with him. Soon everyone else followed him to the stream. As they watched him greedily drink from the jar, Stacks asked, “Is it as good as you make it look?”

“Better, and it’s ice cold too,” he said when he stopped drinking to take a breath. “I only wish I had this water at home. Have you ever seen such crystal clear water before?”

“Artesian wells are found everywhere in the world, or so I am told, but I have never seen what they look like underground,” Blaster said thoughtfully.

“Sheila and Candace had walked around taking in the whole scene, when Sheila called out, “Hey, you guys need to see this.”

Shining their flashlights around, they found Candace and Sheila near the far wall, with their flashlights pointing at the wall itself.

Stacks was the first to reach them, followed by the rest of the group.

“What did you find?”

“A story, at least that’s what I think,” Candace said.

“Yep, and I believe it just may tell the whole story about the people who once lived in this cavern,” Sheila told them.

“If you follow these pictographs, starting from right to left, top to bottom, it seems to tell a story,” Candace told them.

“Ok, if you say so, but what is the story? All I see is childish looking drawings…, all over the place,” Mead said as he moved the beam of his flashlight farther down the wall.

“Well, if I am reading it right, and I am not an archaeologist, this is the story of their beginnings in this part of the country. See how it starts out with a large group of people all spread out in a line and some kind of animals, all heavy laden with bundles, which appear to be walking?” Candace said pointing at the pictures.

When everyone agreed, she continued, “here they seem to be walking still, but there are waves
on both sides of them. If you look close you can see that the artist even drew in some fish to show that it was water…, Here,” she said pointing at a specific drawing,” it shows all the people falling down, or on the ground, as if there was an earthquake…, Next you see that the people are all standing in a large group, looking in the direction they just came from. Mothers are holding their
children close to them, or helping someone up. Now if you look here, you see that the water cuts across the land, which they had just walked through. It also appears that some of their people were caught on the other side of the water and they were separated from each other. Look at how some of the people are reaching out towards those on the other shore,” Candace waited a few
minutes, making sure they had all seen what she was describing.

“You think these drawings are describing Pangaea, the supercontinent that existed during the Paleozoic and Mesozoic eras about 250 million years ago?” Stacks asked her.

“Right after the continents separated into their current configuration; it’s either that or an earth quake that they could be describing. Then of course it could be describing the great flood. I’m not sure about this, but the drawings are telling a story close to what I am saying. There is no other way to decipher this story as far as I am concerned.”

“I believe she’s right Stacks. Look at how the story continues all around the cavern walls. From where Candace left off it looks as though the people started walking again, but up a mountain. Now it looks as if they are hunting. Then here it shows them continuing on covered in skins to keep warm,” Mead said walking ahead of the group and pointing out the drawings.

“The story goes on to describe their long journey here; then it shows them lowering themselves into the ground, and setting up their camp in this cavern” Sheila finished the story.

“That is the short version, but if we could spend more time looking at these drawings, there is a lot more to learn about these people and their history. You can even tell where one artist stopped and another started,” Candace said in amazement.

“I hate to say it, but we need to be heading back to the house. We still have to drive to Ft. Worth, as we need to open ‘The Bar’ tonight,” Collins told them.

“I can’t wait to get back here next Sunday. I think I’ll bring some Colman lanterns and a few camping supplies when we come,” Blaster said thoughtfully.

“Now that’s a wonderful idea,” Candace said excitedly.

“I would think there are a lot of secrets this cavern has yet to reveal,” Gloria said smiling. “And I hope to see every one of them.”

After saying goodbye to Mead, Collins, Rothman, and blaster, they walked back into the warmth of Candace’s cozy kitchen. Stacks remained outside; saying that he wanted to fill the wood bin and have a look around the property before coming in. Candace decided to put together a snack of fruit, cheese, and nuts before they started going through her ancestors old trunks. Placing the fruit on the table, along with saucers and silverware and napkins, Candace poured each of the ladies a glass of wine.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I decided we needed a break before we delved into more of the past.”

“Oh yes,” Sheila cooed as she sat down and picked up her glass and inhaled the fruity aroma.

Gloria smiled and said, “Nectar of the gods,” while filling her plate.

“I think we should do this every day,” Sheila said between bites. “I simply love this sort of food; especially after a tiring day. Of course it could be that I am just too lazy to cook,” She said laughing.

“I for one don’t think it’s lazy to get out of cooking… Sometimes, I mean. However, I would not like to eat this for every meal, especially since I do love to cook,” Gloria said.

“I love to cook too Gloria, but I also enjoy being lazy,” Sheila said laughing at the look on Gloria’s face. She was on her third glass of wine and starting to feel giddy. “But I think I had better stop drinking now, or I won’t be of any help at all in going through those trunks.

“Speaking of trunks…, if both of you are through eating, then why don’t we get started. I’m anxious to see what’s inside of them, especially after seeing the village this morning; I just need to put this in the fridge so it will still be cold when Stacks gets back.” Candace said as she started to clear the table.

Taking the plates of fruit and cheese out of her hands, Gloria said, “You go ahead and get started going through the trunk. Sheila and I will tend to this.

Candace sat on the floor, opened the old trunk, and gasped in surprise. The trunk was filled with what looked to be medieval, hand worked leather journals with silver buckles which secure them closed, instead of lengths of leather ties. Soft and silky as butter to the touch, they were beautiful in their simplicity.
Reverently, afraid to touch them for fear they would dissolve from her touch; Candace donned a pair of disposable gloves, then reached out and picked up the first journal of many.

Opening the journal she saw a beautifully handwritten script, in which the first entry read,

In The Year of Our Lord, the Eighteenth of November, 1817

Jean and Pierre have accepted the position of spies for Spain. I am not pleased with
their decision to act as spies, however, it is not my place to speak ill of their decisions. I am a trusted friend, therefore I say nothing. We have departed for the Americas port of New Orléans, and are experiencing bad weather at sea. We are losing the battle I fear, for the waves have washed away most of the deck hands, and if the hurricane does not pass soon, we shall parish at the bottom of the sea. I will strive to continue writing for as long as I am able in the hopes that, if by the grace of God, one day my children or their children will know of the accounts of my life. The life of a pirate is harsh and more often than not a sentence of death. I must rest now, as the hour to return to my post approach quickly.

Louis Reguad

To be

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Journal #159

I am having so much trouble writing the next chapter of “The Bar.” I know what I want to write, but somehow the story goes off into another direction. If I do not get it in the next couple of days then perhaps it would not hurt to put it aside for a year or two and then come back to it. Then of course I may trash the story altogether for want of what to do with it.

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Journal #158

Well, I’ve done it again. I cannot believe I have not written in my journal since the 25th of April. I have been so busy rewriting, house cleaning, and visiting with my family that time slipped away from me with out my noticing it. I am working on the next chapter of “The Bar” at this time, and I hope to have it posted in the next couple of days. As I mentioned before, I am also trying to write a children’s puppet show, or perhaps I should call it a play for a three-year girl. I have never written for such a young child, or at that level before, and I am finding it harder than the play for adults, that I just finished writing. I am not sure if I will post it when I am finished writing it, but I will let you know at some time in the future.

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Journal #157

I just posted chapter 11 of “Mrs. Pettyjohn’s School of Knowledge.” I am not sure how many more chapters of this story I will have to write, however I do believe there will no more than three. My granddaughter is into hand puppets, so I have decided to write a few small stories for her to enjoy while using them, for her characters. The first one, that I am working on at this time, is called “Happ-en-stance Hollow.” This story is about a family of country squirrels, and rabbits that live in a hollowed out tree, and the accidental trouble they get into. Well, that is what it is supposed to be about at this time. Of course my stories always have a tendency to take on a life of their own.

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“Mrs. Pettyjohn,s School of Knowledge” Chapter 11

“Who called this meeting Seth?” Bertha asked impatiently.

“I did Bertha. I think we need to discuss what happened last night.”

“That’s silly and you know it Seth Williamson. Those aliens were going to try to take over the world, but my mother and Uncle Jim stopped them, with my help of course,” Bertha said indignantly.

“How come you’re so sure they’re aliens today, Bertha, when last night you were saying you thought they were?” Seth asked between clenched teeth.

They were walking through thick trees and underbrush, heading farther out into the woods as she talked. Bertha talked on and on about her uncle and how smart he was, and how that if her uncle said they were aliens, then even the president believed him. All the time she prattled on, Seth was carefully making sure that they were not leaving an easy trail to follow.

After they had walked for almost an hour, Bertha stopped and started looking around.

“Where are we going Seth?”

“Old man Wilson’s in the hospital, so he asked my mom if she would send me to feed his livestock each day, and milk his cows. I thought it would be better to use his barn for our meeting today. Good idea right?” Seth said smiling.

“Well, I suppose it’s alright, but the next time ask me first,” Bertha said as if she was the boss of everyone and everything.

Seth felt his temper rising. Just as he started to let her know exactly what he thought of her Laura and Tina Johnson came through another thicket of bushes and yelled at them.

“This may be a great place to hold a private meeting, but it sure is a long way from town,” Laura said, pulling twigs and leaves out of her long golden tresses.

“If anyone would have bothered asking me for my opinion…,” Bertha paused giving the girls a pointed look, then continued, “I would have chosen a closer place for our meeting.”

“I think this is a wonderful place to hold a secret meeting. Everyone knows that if you want to hold secret meetings you need to go somewhere they would never think of,” Laura said, but was thinking, especially you and your mother.

When the four of them stepped into the dimly lit barn, two unseen children stepped out of the shadows.

“So Bertha, we were wondering if you were proud of yourself today,” Ngame said looking justly irate.

Bertha jumped and squealed as she looked into the faces of two strangers. Looking into the angry faces of Trevor and Ngame, Bertha felt the blood drain from her face. Turning back towards the barn door, she was preparing to run when she saw there was no place to run. There were at least
thirty kids standing there, just staring at her, and not a one of them looking happy.

“I-, I, d-don’t k-know what y-your t-talking about,” Bertha managed to stammer out.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell them the truth now?” Billy Johnson yelled at Bertha.

Stepping in closer to Bertha, Laura coaxed, “Bertha, don’t be stupid. You know what you did was wrong.  Now, your uncle is hurting their friends, maybe even torturing them. For once in your selfish life, do something good. Tell them everything you know about what is happening to their friends.”

“I’m not selfish, and they’re going to get exactly what they deserve. My uncle will find me and all of you will go to jail for the rest of your lives,” Bertha cried out bitterly.

“I don’t understand why you think we deserve what your uncle, or the government has in mind for us, however I do believe you need to understand that we will not sit around and allow it to happen,” Ngame told Bertha.

As Ngame stepped in closer to Bertha, there were brilliant multi-color flashes of lights, as over a hundred children hyper-morphed into the large barn.

Bertha gasped as she saw the brilliant flashes of lights. Standing before her were more children than she could possibly count, all dressed in black, and looking wickedly dangerous. There were some children releasing small bursts of flames, lightening, and water. While she stood there gasping at the sight before her, she noticed others who were part human, and part animal, and
even kids she could see through.

“I think it is time we show you what aliens are capable of,” Trevor said, as he moved in closer to Bertha his skin started to glow then became as bright as the early morning sun. Shading her eyes, Bertha felt heat coming from him, she began to sweat profusely, and shake with fear.

“I could burn you to death, if I was as evil as you, but I’m not, so take this as a warning. Leave us alone!”  Trevor roared.

Seth and the other children from town had already seen what Trevor and some of the other kids could do, but it impressed and scared him anyway.

“Tell them what they want to know Bertha. If they were here to hurt us, they would have a long time ago. Their school was on Arcane Mountain long before our ancestors moved here,” Seth begged her.

When Bertha didn’t say anything, some of the other children from the mountain stepped in closer. There were others like Trevor who glowed, but what frightened her most, was when a group of girls, none looking older than ten years old, stepped up and proceeded to turn into lionesses, then they roared.

Bertha fell to the floor crying. When Ngame asked her once again for any information she could give them, Bertha shook her head.

“We don’t need you to tell us anything, but we thought we would at least give you the chance to finally do something for someone other than yourself. You know Bertha, I feel sorry for people like you,” Trevor said sadly.

Ngame went to Bertha, taking hold of her elbow, helping her to stand.
Using the power of her mind, she probed and cleansed Bertha’s mind the best she

“Stand up Bertha, we won’t hurt you. We were just showing you a small bit of what we are capable of. Do you truly believe that we could not destroy all of mankind if we wished? There are so many ways to destroy a planet, and yet we have left you alone. Why then, didn’t you not leave us alone

After a few moments, and Bertha not saying anything, Ngame led Bertha across the barn.

“Come and sit on that bale of hay, I think you will need to rest for a little while, and forget all you have seen here today,” Ngame said as she helped a dazed Bertha down on the hay.

“She will sleep until you come for her Seth. I wiped her mind clean of any thoughts about us, and what she suspected was going on in our school,” Ngame said, as her friends left the barn, the same way they had entered.

“Were you able to help her?” Lucy Laurence asked hopefully.

“I’m sorry Lucy, some people are simply evil, and there is no helping them. If I would have cleansed her mind of all her hateful thoughts, there would have been nothing left,” Ngame said sadly.

“Thank you for trying Ngame, I know we don’t deserve your help, but thank you,” Lucy said as she hugged Ngame.

Ngame was touched by the small gesture, and felt tears form behind her eyelids. Struggling to keep from shedding tears, Ngame said, “I wish I could have done more. We need to get back to the school, and you guys need to get back to town before you’re missed.”

“Yeah, I guess we had better circle around and come back into town from another direction, that way no one will guess we had anything to do with Bertha’s disappearance.” Seth said, wishing Ngame would hug him, as he left the barn.

“I guess there is nothing left to do here,” Trevor said as he looked at the sleeping form of Bertha.

Ngame was watching the town’s children’s retreating forms, when she turned to look at Trevor.

“I like them Trevor. They are really good people. Isn’t it sad how Bertha almost made them as bad as her?”

“Were you able to help them, at least?” Trevor asked.

“I think so, I just suggested that they were to never follow anyone who would lead them to hate or harm others,” Ngame said smiling.

“Great, now I think we had better hurry. It is almost time for step two in the plan, and we need to be there in case Dr. Arababe needs us…

“Dr. Arababe,” PFC Barrett, said as he walked towards her. “I just saw General Anderson driving off. What caused him to leave so quickly?”

“It seems he just learned his dear sweet sister needed him, as his niece is missing,” Mirra said with a small laugh.

“I hope those kids know what they’re doing. How long do you need to clean everything up here, so that we can leave?” PFC Bradley Barrett asked her.

“Give me twenty minutes to clear any information off my computer and get the kids, then we’ll be ready to leave,” Mirra told him.

Mirra had decided that since she would soon be a hunted criminal anyway, she may as well take her small laptop computer when she left. She had set two separate passwords to obtain entry into her computer. One was to enable her to maintain a secret area, one in which she kept information she would share with no one here on the base. The other she used when anyone was close when she turned her computer on. This was her only proof of what happened in this place, and hopefully one day she would find a way to use it against General Anderson, and possible the president and his cronies.

As Mirra erased all she could from the main computer, she heard Andrew in her mind, “Dr. Arababe…, what are you doing with that computer?”

“I’m trying to get rid of any information that I can before we leave, but I’m afraid I can’t get rid of it all’ Mirra said exasperated.

“If you’ll open the door I’ll do it for you,” Andrew said with confidence.

“You know how to do this?”

“Yes ma’am, I know a lot about computers. But with these computers here, I will just burn them up,” Andrew said happily.

Mirra sat down at the computer terminal again, and started typing the code that would open the cell doors. After a few moments, and with nothing happening, Mirra once again typed in the code. This time a warning appeared. The warning read…, Warning, you are not authorized access. Continual effort to access unauthorized areas will be reported to General Anderson…

“Oh no,” Mirra gasped aloud.

“What’s wrong?” Sherrie asked, as she came up behind Mirra.

Mirra turned to see Sherrie, Sara, and PFC Barrett standing behind

“Anderson revoked my access to the children’s cell doors. There’s no way to get them out of there tonight,” Mirra told them, sounding as if she was
about to cry.

Sherrie groaned in disbelief, “Why would he do such a thing? I thought he wanted us to run tests on the children tonight.”

“I thought so too, apparently, he lied, or simply changed his mind,” Mirra said as she sighed, and pointed her index finger to the warning on the screen.

PFC Barrett looked towards the glass cages to see the children staring intently at them.

“Have you told the kids yet?” He asked her.

“Not yet, but I’m sure they already know what’s going on,” Mirra

“They know,” Sara said crying.

“They also know about Hedrick Lieberman’s torture devices, and that he’s coming here tomorrow. Nancy must have listened in on our conversation, when we were in the office, because she asked me about it a little while ago. I told her we were working out a way to get them out of here tonight,” Sherrie confessed.

Mirra walked towards the children’s small cells, her hopes gone, she found it hard to smile.

“I’m so sorry children. We have no way to open these doors. As you know, Anderson revoked my authority to open your doors. I don’t know what to do now, or if there is anything we can do.”

“Andrew smiled at Mirra and said, “If we can get out of these rooms, is everything in place for us to leave?”

“PFC Barrett moved up beside Mirra, and said, “Sherrie explained how you two are able to talk to the children,” he whispered.

“So I was wondering if you would mind being a sort of go-between, so that I could speak with them. I may have an idea,” Barrett mumbled.

“Sure, it won’t hurt to try, even if your idea doesn’t work,” Mirra told him.

“Ask them if they have any talents that would help us get them out of there.”

Mirra asked the children, and then relayed their answer.

“Andrew said they may be able to get out, if we were ready to leave,” Mirra told him.

“Ok, tell him I need five minutes, and then everything will be set to go. Also, are their people here yet?” He asked Mirra.

“I spoke with Ngame a few minutes ago, and she said they were all in place. She told me that Mrs. Pettyjohn wanted to know right before we leave the building.”

PFC Barrett took off at a jog, and Sherrie returned to Mirra’s side with her few important belongings in a small backpack. In her hands she held Mirra’s laptop bag and backpack.

“I brought your bags, the only thing left to do is wipe out the memory of all the computers,” Sherrie told her.

“Were ready to go also, and I destroyed all the blood and tissue samples in the lab. All we have to do now is get the heck out of here,” Sara said as she walked up to them.

“We’re waiting for PFC Barrett, then for the children to get out of these cages,” Sherrie told Sara.

“I’m finished,” Bradley said when he jogged up to them.

“Tell the kids to do whatever it is they need to do, to get out of there,” Bradley said.

The four children stood up, all of them started glowing. Jinnee walked to the wall of her cell that was next to Andrew’s, and placed her hands on the wall. Mirra and the others were shocked to see Jinnee’s body glowing brighter than before, and then fire leapt from the ends of her fingers.

In a few seconds, the wall between her and Andrew melted away. Andrew walked into her cell, and then the two of them walked to the opposite wall. Andrew placed his hand on Jinnee’s back and their glow became even brighter than it had been when she was working alone. In less time than before, they were through the wall into Nancy’s little cell. In turn, they all joined their touch to Jinnee’s back, and the glow issuing from the children was distinctly brighter than before, as they entered Missy’s cell. Once there, all the children touched Jinnee, and the wall between the adult’s dissolved under Jinnee’s fiery touch. Their glow was so bright, Mirra and the other’s had to look away.

Andrew and Nancy grabbed Jinnee as she slumped over in exhaustion. Bradley moved quickly to the children and picked up the small girl.

“Does this always happen when she uses her talent?” Bradley asked them.

“Yeah, it’s always tiring when you use that much power; at least it is for kids. Mrs. Pettyjohn said we just need more practice,” Nancy told him.

“Ok Andrew, do whatever it is you need to do, to mess up those computers, then let’s get out of here,” Mirra told him.

Andrew grinned and said, “No problem, I have always ruined computers when I touched them. Mrs. Pettyjohn said that people with Zeus Fire abilities had too much electricity to be allowed into the computer room. Just lead me to each computer that you want to wipe clean.”

When Andrew laid his hand on the computer’s system unit, smoke erupted from the box.

“That one’s fried,” he said with a grin, and continued following Sara to each terminal.

To be continued…

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Journal #156

Some years ago I was blessed with a chance to live in Singapore. I had the time of my life, but more importantly, I made some wonderful friends. One of those friends, Lyn Goah, gave me her recipe for Sweet and Sour Chicken, as well as a few other delicious recipes. I decided to share this recipe today, and perhaps next week I will post her Fried Rice recipe. I am writing the next chapter of “Mrs. Pettyjohn’s School of knowledge,” today. I hope to finish by tonight, but who knows. It all depends on how many times I have to revise it.

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