Nothing

I've been out of pocket the last few weeks...okay, the last month and a half. Well, I'm not entirely back into my routine. I have a couple of trips to make yet. By the time June is gone, I will have stood on the Atlantic Ocean twice and the Pacific Ocean twice. Within the last 9 months (this is the fun part of traveling) I will get to take my kids to both Disneyland and Disney World. Considering that I currently reside in New Mexico (I'm still a Texan. I'm just living in one of our western counties for the moment), it's quite an accomplishment to pull off these events. I hope to gain enough time in my week to start visiting all of you again. Well, enough about me.

I saw in the news a few weeks ago that an astronaut was trying to convince the world that aliens exist. That reminded me of a story that I posted back in 2007. I decided to dust this story off and recycle (my only efforts at being green). I think you will appreciate the value of this story.

Nothing

Bret Simmons walked into the room and held the door open for Doctor Hal Reed then gingerly shut it behind them. He stood breathless for a moment, “This is very impressive. I have never seen such an elaborate laboratory.”

Simmons smiled graciously. “Thank you, Dr. Reed, coming from a man of your esteem, your words mean a great deal. We are looking forward to working with you.”

“About that,” began Dr. Reed, “what exactly did you want from me?”

“I wanted to hire you to make something.” He paused for effect, “Something big.” When he said “big” his voice grew in awe.

“You were so secretive; I hardly knew what to think.”

“Yes, that is why I paid you so handsomely.”

“Handsomely? I should think so. With the money you paid me, I will be able to continue my research for years to come. You were most generous.”

Simmons waved him off, “think nothing of it. I have followed your research on the beginning moments of evolution for quite some time.”

“You flatter me, of course.”

“None sense.” Simmons cut to the chase, “ I assume that you are a fellow atheist.”
Dr. Reed looked down at his feet. “Well, let’s say this: I am eagerly seeking to prove there is no God.”

“Very well,” Simmons mused. “You may say it however you please, just so that you succeed.” His voice grew irrational. “These…idiotic…religionists just won’t shut up! That’s why I paid you so dearly, out of my pocket, and paid you in advance.”

“Well then, what is our business here?” Dr. Reed seemed eager.

Simmons motioned to a conference table across the room and they took seats around it. “I want you to make the greatest scientific discovery of all time. Moreover, I want you to get full credit for it. I want you to make something, anything, out of nothing.” He clasped his hands together in delight.

Reed leaned forward, “I beg your pardon?”

“I want you to make something out of nothing.” He was matter of fact.

“But,” Dr. Reed stuttered, “How? With what?”

He shrugged, “I don’t care. Just create something.”

“What do you expect me to use?”

“Nothing. Something from nothing.” He repeated.

“I must have something to start with. All matter must have basic building blocks.”

“Like atoms?” asked Simmons.

“Yes, atoms would do nicely for a start.” Reed wasn’t sure if he should laugh.

“Oh no, that won’t do at all,” dismissed Simmons. “You must do it with nothing.”

“But I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t know how.” He was sincere.

“But you are a scientist.”

“So?”

“You are a Big Bang theorist. Surely you must know something about it.”

Dr. Reed’s pride was injured. “Well, of course I do. I am the leading researcher on evolutionary models.”

“That is why I hired you. You are the best.”

Reed shrugged, “But I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one can do what you are asking. It’s not humanly possible.”

Simmons was cross. “Don’t even start that, Doctor. That’s why we must succeed.”

“Why? I’m not sure I follow you.”

“We must prove the Creationists wrong.”

“Why?”

“If they are right then that means I am wrong. It means that there is a God. Do this and prove them wrong.”

Reed shook his head in disbelief. “But I have nothing to start with.”

“There was nothing before the Big Bang,” bantered Simmons.

Dr. Reed swallowed, “Well, there could have been. I mean, there could have been some swirling gasses.”

Simmons leaned forward, “Okay, where did the gasses come from?”

Reed threw up his hands, “I don’t know! Maybe from a previous Big Bang.”

“How’s that?”

“Well,” Reed’s eyes widened, “I surmise that the entire universe is in a great cycle, a long, continuous cycle of beginning and end.”

“Okay, go on…”

“You see, the universe expands into substance and contracts into nothing, leaving only swirling gasses. Then it starts all over again.”

“Okay. What causes the gasses to swirl? I mean, in the absence of solar winds to stir them, or gravity to pull them, what starts the swirling?”

Reed shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Simmons was incredulous. “You don’t know? How is that possible?”

“Actually,” he looked down at his feet. “I might be leaning toward a creator.”

“What?” Simmons shrieked. “But you said…”

“Well, consider it.” He waved a hand in the air and dismissed Simmons concerns. “What about this building?”

“What about it?”

“Where did it come from?”

“Huh? I had to build it.”

“Exactly!” Simmons blank stare probed him to elaborate. “If there is a creation, there must be a creator.”

“A creator?” Simmons was starting to panic.

“Of course. Think of the Mona Lisa.”

“The Mona Lisa…” Simmons repeated.

“Do you think that paint just fell onto a canvas? No, she has a design. There must be a designer.”

Simmons stood up, and then sat down again. “So what are you saying?”

“Someone, not God, created the universe.”

“Who else has the power to create a universe if not God?” Simmons face turned red. “Not that God has the power, but…oh, you know what I mean.”

“Aliens,” Reed said smugly.

“Oh brother.” Simmons groaned.

“Yes! Can’t you see? Aliens created our universe.”

“With what?”

“Swirling gasses.”

“Back to the gas again.” He placed a hand on his chest and groaned. “Then where did the aliens come from?”

“I haven't gotten that far.”

“But, just a few months ago you were certain that there was no creator.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But that just doesn’t make sense. Logically, I can’t make any sense out of it. To think that all of this evolved out of nothing?” He stood and walked to the window. “Take just the sun alone--why imagine it! One million Earths would fit inside of it. And to think, by chance it was 93,000,000 miles from Earth. Any closer and we would burn up. Any farther and we would freeze. And it’s not even a big star; it’s just a smaller average star.

“The sun evaporates seawater, which causes clouds to form. The clouds are driven by the wind and rise to heights taller than mountains, giving the rain needed to sustain life, and purifying the air at the same time. That couldn’t happen by chance.” He observed Simmons rubbing his chest and moaning. “And to think that chance created the human heart. And chance formed the ribs within a human body in the womb? And the human mind, with its unending complex thoughts and desires? Could chance have made all of this? It makes you think.”

Simmons had enough. “But, I…”

“Yes of course! The eye!” Reed was excited. “It has over 43,000,000 nerve endings in it. We can’t even make one nerve cell, much less a functioning human eye.”

“But we evolved slowly.”

Reed shot back at him, “Did we? At what point did our blind nerve cells work in concert to create sight? At what point did our lungs develop the capacity to process oxygen? Can you imagine how awkward the stage was between breathing atmosphere and breathing with gills? At what point did both a male and a female coexist long enough to copulate? I don’t think so, Mr. Simmons!” Reed was parading around as if on a crusade.

Simmons was absolute. “That’s all fine, but I am not prepared to believe in God.”

“Ah yes, God. Me neither. If there is a God, and He is the Creator, then we would be created also, implying that we might be accountable to Him. I am not ready to believe in Him, either. I like my life just as it is.”

“Fascinating.” Simmons mused. “How, then, did the Earth come to be?”

“Aliens.” Dr. Reed nodded in satisfaction, quite proud of himself.

“Aliens?” Simmons paused. “That seems hard to believe, too. After all, they had to come from somewhere also.”

“Perhaps, but the alternative is rather unpleasant.”

“So, then,” Simmons committed, “Aliens?”

“Aliens.” Dr. Reed nodded in approval.

April 15--A Day That Forever Changed the World

Grit your teeth, bite your tongue, weep, wail, get out your checkbook and write one to Uncle Sam, for April 15th is upon us. People all over America will experience tremendous heartburn and anxiety, and all for the cause of money. There are a few grim reasons for dreading the 15th, but few of them concern our cash supply, or lack thereof. Journey with me through one day that has forever changed the course of our history …

April 14th. A cruise ship plows quietly through ghostly still waters on a dimly lit night, unaware that she was about to create an incident that would forever alter nautical laws and traditions. Her captain was sound asleep in his extraordinarily comfortable quarters. Never before had such comfort been built for the purposes of luxury and everyone was taking full advantage of their fortune. Telegrams were constantly being sent over a newly developed telegraph system for ocean voyages; the rich were showing off their prestige. In fact, so many messages were sent that the lineman had to issue a command to all other ships in the area, “shut up and get off the line” due to their transmissions concerning icebergs floating into the northern routes. The accommodations were so posh that even the third class and crew’s quarters were better than the first class on most contemporary ships. Truly, the lap of luxury was at the customer’s beck and call. After all, a ticket on this ship cost several thousand dollars, why shouldn’t the rich boast of their achievements? Then the night watchman, from the crow’s nest, signaled, “ICEBERG AHEAD”, and the world would never be the same.

April 15th. The great ship was mortally wounded, her flood compartments were full, and the metal beast was about the split in half due to the pressure on her hull. Electric lights were flickering off and on as screaming passengers and crews fought to maintain control and panic in their efforts to save lives. Women and children were evacuated as quickly as possible, while the men dressed in their finest attire and went to the lounge for a last brandy and cigar. For there weren’t enough lifeboats for everyone on board, some one had to die, the men immediately recognized their duty and held their heads up as they sacrificed all they ever would be for their families. Of the 2228 people on board, 705 survived to tell the truth about that horrible night. A ship named the Carpathia rescued the survivors and became known as the “ship of widows.”

When the Titanic sank in 1912, the world reeled in shock at the loss. Shortly thereafter, the Commerce Act of 1912 went into effect that forever altered our naval laws. One of the foremost of the laws stated that radio operators could not turn off their radios for the night and go to bed. The Coast Guard was formed to keep a watch out for icebergs. The Titanic also coined the term, posh, which was an acronym for Port-side Over, Starboard Home.

April 14th. A war torn nation was welcoming a permanent declaration of peace, for a full surrender had occurred less than a week before. The war was all but over. At last, American lives would no longer be lost fighting to preserve rights and liberties. The President, in an effort to enjoy a night away from the pressures of politics and the restoration of a needful nation, decided to take a night off for some meaningless entertainment. His plate was full in the terms of establishing new and previously uncharted laws and practices. Never before had so many American soldiers fought and died. Never before had such a sacrifice been demanded in the name of liberty. Never before had the policies of our great democracy been so blatantly and forthrightly challenged. Never before had an attack by a military power occurred after so many years of peace. Never before had a nation needed their President more than they needed him now. A lone assassin lurked in the shadows, waiting for a moment when all attention would be on the stage. At just that moment, he stepped forward, placed a pistol against the President’s head, and fired. He was heard yelling, “Sic semper tyrannis,” which ment, “thus ever to tyrants.”

April 15th. The President was taken to a lodging house across the street where he was placed in bed while doctors worked through the night in a desperate attempt to save his life. At 7:20 A.M., 1865, Abraham Lincoln died. His attending physician pulled a sheet over his head and Secretary Stanton said, “Now he belongs to the ages.”

More? On a related note, on April 15, 1861, Robert E. Lee, son of a Revolutionary War hero, and a 25-year veteran of the United States Army, is offered command of the Union Army—an offer he refused. In 1969, North Korea shot down an American Airplane over the Sea of Japan. In 1986, the United States launched an air raid against Libya in response to a terrorist attack on April 5th. In 2009, Tea Parties were held across the nation, for the first time since the American Revolution, in protest of the trillions of dollars spent by the Obama Administration.

So, when you feel blue over the tax money you have to pay, remember that this day has much more significance than you ever imagined. Some very positive events also occurred on the fifteenth:
1738-The bottle open was invented.
1878- Ivory Soap was developed by Procter of Procter and Gamble.
1923- Insulin was made available for diabetics.
1960- 04 x 15 = 60.

And, most importantly, Ray Kroc opened the first McDonald’s in Des Plains Illinois, selling 15-cent hamburgers and 10-cent fries for a first day’s total of $366.12.

Caitie and the Whale

Seldom do I post poetry, but it's not unheard of. In truth, I've been traveling and I haven't had time to work on any short stories or vet bios. So, for the sake of getting something out there for you to read, I decided to post a poem that I wrote for my kids several years ago. I have been working on a new short story, and I hope to have it edited by next week. It depends on how much time I have when I finally get back home...


Caitie and the Whale

Little Caitie swam with fish
In order to keep her wish
Of swimming around to find a whale
She wanted to ask about the tale
Of the fish that ate a man.

She found a school of fish at play
All at once they began to say,
“To find the whale, leave the brook
In the ocean you must look
For the fish that ate a man.”

In the ocean she did swim
Where the light began to dim.
She found the whale inside a cave
Because she was unafraid
Of the fish that ate a man.

“Excuse me, sir, but I must ask
Of when God did task
You to go and catch the man
When from God he ran
To the fish that ate a man.”

“Of course I do remember
It was late in September
When a man went floating by
So I ate him like a fly.
I’m the fish that ate a man.

“In my tummy the man did stay
Until the man began to pray
So on the sand I spit him out
It is true, so have no doubt
Of the fish that ate a man.”

Little Caitie returned as planned
Back to the ocean’s sand
Never again would she doubt
When her daddy told her about
The fish that ate a man.

Let Us Remember

There are no words that will make this video clip any better. Please watch it and remeber...

Marine

The Dust Bowl

Pardon the expression, but I had to "dust" this story off and share it with you. It comes from my article writing days, which are long gone. It seems applicable now that we are facing hard times again. Maybe it will help us keep our circumstances in perspective.

The Dust Bowl

The years of the depression could be summed up in one word for so many of its victims: desperation.

You could see it coming as far as the horizon would permit. Soon, everyone’s windows and doors served only to hold back the fierce wind howling outside. Dust as fine as silt drifts in from every crack in the wall, filling the floor and cracks with sand deep enough to plant corn. Nothing could stop it. Children would sit in the floor and play with large piles of sand as the dirt blew in from outside. If bad luck were your fortune, it would rain while the sand was blowing and fall in the form of mud. The locals called them “dusters”, but everyone called them the worst thing to happen in farming history.

For the poor sharecroppers in Oklahoma, the dust storms of the Dust Bowl years were nothing short of a death sentence to their way of life. Most farms were foreclosed as banks began to call in notes; notes the farmers could not support. Slowly, one by one, then by the hundreds, Oklahomans abandoned their homes and went west to California, desperately seeking some way of making a living.

The dust meant much more to others. For them it meant completely changing everything they ever knew about life. They packed up their belongings and started driving west. Many people had to leave behind farms that their families had established some 70 years before. Old men cried as they left the home that had born their fathers, their children, and their grandchildren. For many, the trip was too much to bear and they died from broken hearts before they ever crossed the state line of Oklahoma. At night, they would eat fried dough while dreaming of chicken and dumplings. For many, beans and corn bread was a feast to remember. When they arrived in California to find no work available, they gathered into communes, sharing what they didn’t have to share. Instead of finding work, they found hostilities. For California had been overrun by those looking for a solution to their desperate problems. Local vigilantes, hating the Oklahomans for bringing their hard luck to California, burned out many times their camps. Their words, “brother, can you spare a dime?” became the national anthem as tough times got worse for so many. Honest, hard working people were reduced to beggars in order to survive. However, they did survive. They survived to go on and help build a bigger and better America.

For the strong, the tough times brought on by the dust storms amounted to insurmountable grounds for true bragging rights, lending testimony to the tenacity of the human spirit. “Why, where I come from, the dust was so thick that I had to chop my way to the barn with my ax just so I could tend to the cows.” And, “Shoot that’s nothing, it was so dusty at my house that when we jest got used to drinkin’ dust and bathin’ in durt.” Such folks just found a way to survive, despite the overwhelming odds against them. Their families still farm that same land today, with the same grim determination so appreciated by their fore fathers.

In only a few years, America was in the full throws of World War II, fighting to preserve their way of life; fighting to have the right to try their luck again just as soon as they get the chance. These people couldn’t be stopped by hard times. The hard times only made them more determined to survive.

Pay special attention to the photo of the man and the two boys running for cover as a dust storm started to blow in on an Oklahoma farm. What you will see is a desperate attempt to defy the odds and hold out just one day longer. You will see grim determination in the face of odds greater than any man should face. You will see great sorrow and great longing for better days. You will see the embodiment of everything great that is found in humanity.

The Robinsons

THE ROBINSONS

Paul and Suzie Robinson had been in their Siberian prison for months. They were arrested for smuggling Bibles through the airport at Moscow in 1982 and had been transported from prison camp to prison camp throughout the Soviet Union for 3 years. The US State Department tried repeatedly to negotiate their safe return, but failed. The Robinsons were destined to spend years suffering for their faith.

Throughout their captivity, they had been separated and had not seen each other once, but had heard each other crying out in pain, as they were tortured and humiliated. After each round of torment, the Communists would tell them that if they would simply deny Christ, then they could go free. The Robinsons were not prepared to do so.

One day, Suzie was surprised to see her cell door open and Paul shoved into the room. The door promptly closed and they were left alone for several hours. They cried together and prayed together, asking God to extend His mercy and grace to sustain them. They never asked why they were made to suffer, for they knew the answer. They were Christians; they were agents of change and were prepared to suffer the consequences for their choices. Throughout their journey, God sustained them and they never lost sight of who Christ was and why they loved Him. Their main concern was that their lives and deaths brought honor to God and helped advance the Kingdom of God. They only wanted to make a difference.

Paul and Suzie found strength in their embrace in that cell and were renewed at the sight of each other. Paul had a beard from three years growth, and Suzie had lost more weight than Paul thought possible, but she was still his beautiful wife. Their hope in this reunion was that God had arranged their release. Yet, their hopes diminished when the Commandant entered their cell to discuss their latest offer of compromise. It was simple, if Suzie would agree to willingly bear the child of one of the guards, they would return their passports and send them home. Paul and Suzie rushed to answer and immediately rejected the offer. The Commandant advised them that they would die if they refused, but they remained adamant to their death. Paul and Suzie were made to dig their own graves and Paul was made to bury Suzie before he was killed. Their names were written in the Book of Martyrs and their deaths brought great honor to the Kingdom.

I realize this post is unpleasant, and I have hesitated to post it many times. However, this "could be true, but isn't" story is nothing short of reality for so many Christians throughout the world. I have hesitated to post it in the past because I was concerned how it would be received. But, after watching how our future is shaping itself, I feel it is important to tell stories such as this, lest we grow complacent. Earlier this week, a pastor was shot from the pulpit. He left his wife and two daughters wondering what happened. We are hovering on the edge of a potential prosecution. If America strays much farther down this road, I fear we won't be able to maintain life as we know it.

Now, I'm not an alarmist. I firmly believe in God's sovereignty, and I fully embrace that He is in control. If this is what God allows, then we will embrace His plan with faith that His will is best. If it comes, then let's pray we be found faithful. If God continues to spare us, let's not forget to pray for those who do face these dangers daily.

Illumination--The Finale

Adam, having decided to journey on his own, is now about to venture on his own path, based on the advice of Chicane. One might anticipate how well this will turn out...

Illumination, the Finale.

After a while, the forest started to close in on him, but enough light remained to stay on the path. Without realization, he traveled deep into the forest and deeper into the darkness. Adam continued without hesitation, for he was a man, and he could make his own way. The darkness had completely surrounded him, causing him to stumble as he fought to see the light. Before long, he was groping on hands and knees, searching for the way. He could not turn back, for back and front had long ago merged into the same. He was completely lost, without hope of redemption. He leaned against a tree and decided to wait until light came to him before continuing.

Something seemed vaguely familiar about his surroundings. Had he been in this place before? How could he know, for even his hands were unseen by him? If only he had a way to find the path. He leaned back to think. Once, long ago, he had met a man that offered to help him. What was his name? There had been two men. One had helped him and the other… He couldn’t remember. To great a time had passed and his memory seemed askew by the darkness. Adam forced himself to think, to remember the name of his friend. He was growing sleepy; maybe he should rest for a while before continuing. His eyes closed and he began to relax. Sleep seemed to beckon him, seducing him to let go. He began to drift away, to let go of his surroundings…

Caminero! That was the name of his friend. The thought of the name brought him out of his sleep. Had he been asleep, or only near it? He couldn’t be sure. Caminero. Such an odd name, one he had never heard before. It was on his lips and he spoke aloud before realizing that he had spoken. “Caminero.”

The darkness began to squeeze around him, causing him to loose breath, as if a chain was coiling about him, like a serpent. The darkness had fingers, sticky fingers that reached to subdue him. Terror seized his voice; he was unable to think. “Camin…” Words would not form on his lips. “Cam…” If only he could call for help. Perhaps it was too late, just as he was warned. Mustering all his strength, he cried out in a last effort, “Caminero!”

A light pierce through the darkness, causing the ebony around him to flee. A man stood before him with a lamp. It was Caminero! “My friend, you have come to me!”

“Of course. You only had to call out to me.” He held the lamp closer to Adam, “Can you see to walk?”

“Only by your light.”

“That is what light is for. Follow me; we have a long journey ahead.”

“But Sir,” Adam inquired. “What will I owe you for your help?”

“You owe me nothing that you can pay now. Come with me at once, lest you die in the darkness.”

“Sir, there are many dangers in the forest. A serpent almost killed me just now.”
Caminero held the lamp closer to himself and the light reflected off a long sword attached to his cloak. “Fear not, my friend, for I am skilled in the art of war.” He turned and walked into the darkness. “The way is very close.”

Adam did not hesitate to follow as closely as he could. The light was with Caminero, illuminating his every step; for him the path was clear. Adam could only follow with each step immediately following his guide. Suddenly, the woods cleared and they stood in a large meadow. Adam stopped in disbelief. “I have stood here before.”

“When you left me you returned to the dark path, rather than follow me into the light.”

Adam pointed ahead. “But I followed that path in the light. It’s a trick! I followed your direction after you left.”

“But you did not follow me, only where you thought I went.”

Adam surveyed his surroundings. “Are we alone?”

“Whom do you expect?”

“I am not sure, but I seem to remember another person. My memory is so dark, I can’t see clearly into my past. It’s a tangle of broken promises and deceit.”

“Then you are remembering yourself.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your heart is full of deceit, for you are a liar.”

Adam leaned forward, indignant. “My word is my bond, I have never told a lie.”
“Do you remember when I found you in the woods? You said that you would follow me as long as you have the means.”

Adam was silent for a moment. “Well, one lie does not a liar make.”

“Very well, then how many lies does it take in order to make one a liar? Ten? Twenty five? At what point is one no longer truthful? Are you truthful when you tell your first lie?”

“No, but…” Adam hesitated, looking down at his feet. “Sir, I can see that I am wrong. I did lie to you, but not with the intention of deceiving you.”

“No matter.” Caminero waved him off. “The lie was a matter of convenience for you. You might not have deliberately lied, but the truth was violated just the same.”

“I am truly sorry for lying to you. It won’t happen again.” He paused and sat on a large rock nearby. “Fortunately, that is the only time I wronged you, you are a hard one to please.”

“You also adulterated our relationship. You had fully devoted yourself to my service, yet you abandoned me to pursue your own wishes. In doing so, you chose to serve yourself. I see your selfishness as idolizing only yourself.”

Adam lowered his head. “Sir, I see that I am wrong, I am guilty of offending you. My heart is pierced with shame.”

“Then you have a choice to make. You have to make a commitment to me before we can walk in the light together. You must abandon your old path forever, never to return. Forever more, you can only walk where I lead you, and you can only move when I tell you. You are giving me your life. In exchange, I will give you mine. I will give you a pardon for violating my laws.”

“Sir, I have no knowledge of your laws.”

“Before you started your journey, I wrote the laws on your heart. Otherwise, you would not have felt guilt for those you violated.”

“Sir, I would not have violated your laws, except that I was lied to, I was deceived.”

“No matter. Only you have the ability to make the choice. You choose to either believe or reject a lie. You chose poorly last time; you were very selfish. Now you must choose again. Follow me at the cost of your life, or follow your own path at the cost of death.”

Caminero’s intense stare was penetrating Adam’s heart, his very soul. It was true. Adam was going to be required to sell his soul… “How can you expect me to give you my life? How can I continue?”

“You will pay either me or Chicane. If you pay me, then it will cost you your life. If you pay Chicane, then it will cost you death. You will die either way. Either die to yourself, or die to life. The choice is hard, for you have violated the law; a penalty must be paid. I will pay your penalty, but you must give me your life and become my servant.” Caminero looked deep into his eyes, but Adam had to look away. “When you give me your life, I will give it back to you.”

Adam had no argument. How was he to know that he was trespassing against a law he never saw in print? He had heard it said before, “Ignorance of the law is no excuse.” Adam could see no way out, he had to commit his life to Caminero, or he would die in the darkness. “Very well, Sir. I surrender to you. I am unworthy of you paying for my crimes, but I am grateful for your benevolence. Where you lead, I will follow.”

Caminero produced a bag of water, which he handed to Adam. “I am sure that you thirst by now.”

Adam drank from the flask. Cold, clear water poured endlessly from the pouch. Adam drank, but could not be satisfied; yet, he could not be filled, either. He closed his eyes and drank. He had never been so thirsty in his life. When he opened his eyes, he could see the light; it was shining brightly on the path before him. Caminero motioned for him to follow. “Come, my brother, for we have a long journey ahead.” Adam followed his new master, grateful for the light on his path and the water in his hands.

The End