Read Angelfall: Parts 1 to 5 Online
Authors: Conrad Powell
Angelfall: Parts 1 to 5 (26 page)
Part1 of James Stone and the Secret World
By Conrad Powell.
©
Copyright 2011 Conrad Powell.
Father Anthony took the podium as the adults continued to trickle into the sanctuary. The boys took their seats in their favorite spot in the church, the balcony.
Father Anthony began the service. Today was Communion Sunday. The boys made it habit not to take communion. They always giggled as Father Anthony drank the left over wine and water mixture in the golden chalices.
They were convinced he always poured way too much for the communion service on purpose so that a lot would be left over for him to consume.
Polite priests dared not waste the Body and Blood of Christ.
As Father Anthony drank almost two full chalices of the communion wine, they snickered.
James pulled out a pair of miniature binoculars from his jacket’s breast pocket and viewed the statue.
“You see anything?” said Troy.
“Nope. still dry. Are you sure you saw it cry?”
“Positive.”
Father Anthony wound up the sermon that talked about Jesus and the miracles, particularly the miracle at the wedding when the host ran out of wine and Jesus wanted the party to continue, so Jesus turned the water into wine.
James and Troy hadn’t heard a word.
After the benediction, the sermon was over.
James wanted more time with Jesus.
“Listen, I’ll see you later. I’m going to hang around here a bit,” said James as they walked to the back of the balcony.
“Cool,” said Troy. “Later.”
Troy walked to the flight of stairs and out of sight.
James looked around him. The last member of church left the balcony.
James walked to the side of the balcony where there was a metal ladder step leading up to the attic of the church.
A half an hour up there and I’ll be good to go he thought.
It didn’t take him long to climb up there and shut the small trap door behind him.
It was dark in the attic so he turned on his wrist iPhone to get some light. The attic was dingy and musty.
He couldn’t hear a sound in the insulated attic. He stood to his feet and walked past a pile of dusty old church hymnals, over to a broken small podium, probably from the beginning days when the church was a smaller building. A few dirty red and white choir robes lay in a pile on the floor.
The half hour ran off in no time. James was sure Mr. Darby, the grounds keeper, had locked up. Father Anthony had to be gone because he was the kind of priest that did not linger around the church after service.
James figured it was safe to come down and pushed the trap door. He climbed out of the attic.
The church lights were off with no sign of Mr. Darby.
James clamored down the stairs to the first floor. He engaged his flash light app and walked into the sanctuary heading straight for Jesus.
He walked up to Jesus pointing the light straight past his bleeding side and up to Jesus’ face.
James grabbed a wooden chair from the rostrum and pulled it over below the statue.
He climbed onto the chair and raised his iPhone to Jesus’ face.
“You just don’t want to cry. Do you? Listen I’m missing some serious Sunday dinner for this and I know my mother will come looking for me soon.”
James looked behind him in the sanctuary and his eyes caught a bottle of red wine on the shelf behind the large wooden pulpit on the rostrum.
He climbed off the chair grabbed the wine and communion cups and put them on the communion table that was on the rostrum.
James grabbed another wooden chair from the rostrum and plopped it at the communion table. James sat down at the table, such that he was facing Jesus.
He grabbed the bottle of red wine and read the label in the faint light that came through the windows of the sanctuary on this cloudy day.
James heard thunder roll outside. A heavy rain storm began as winds began to blow.
I might as well relax until the rains go away he thought.
“Hmm. Nineteen Eighty-One. Good year.” He smiled as he uncorked it. He poured the water with the wine into the goblet and sat at the table.
He walked back over behind the pulpit and grabbed a pack of communion wafers.
As he got back to the table, he emptied the wafers into the gold colored plate that rested on the table. He sat back down facing the statue.
He picked up a wafer and the goblet of wine and held them in the air.
“Nope. Not quite.”
Thunder rolled and lightening flashed near the church.
James was a bit startled. He scurried to the attic and grabbed a hymnal and an old parson’s frock near the pile of vintage choir robes.
As he walked back into the sanctuary, he saw lightening flash outside the sanctuary window.
He walked back to the communion table facing Jesus’ statue. He threw on the black dusted parson’s robe which drooped over his body and off his shoulders. He coughed when the dust flew into his nostrils. James picked up the golden goblet.
“That’s better.” He peered at his reflection on the goblet.
He held up a wafer.
“The Body and Blood of Christ.” He chuckled.
James popped the wafer into his mouth and drank the goblet of wine until it was empty.
“Ahhh. Not a bad year at all.”
He giggled. Lightening struck outside the church window a third time.
He looked up and caught a glimpse of Jesus. A silver streak shimmered and sparkled as it ran from Jesus’ cheek. Jesus was crying. He could not believe what he was seeing.
He dropped the goblet and blinked his eyes wildly.
He did a double take shaking his head. He looked at Jesus again. The silver streak was still there.
He picked up the goblet without taking his eyes off of the statue.
James walked over to the statue. Tears dripped to the floor continuously.
James held the goblet under the drip which filled to the brim in no time.
As he stared into the goblet, the clear liquid turned red. It smelled like alcohol.
“Hmm.” He sniffed the cup.
“Red wine. Here goes.”
He raised the goblet in the air above his head and drank the contents. James’ head felt light but instead of fainting he levitated into the air by his waist.
“Whooaaaa. Hey. Hey. Hey,” he said grabbing the thin air. He was heading straight for the church’s ceiling.
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7(5). [BONUS EXCERPTS] - Conrad Powell’s Short Story Series:
Wall: A Jewish Holocaust Short Story
(Conrad Powell Short Story Series).
By Conrad Powell.
©
Copyright 2011 Conrad Powell.
Kinderstaag returned to his seat and propped up his feet on the table. Heinrick’s blood dripped from Kinderstaag’s boots forming a puddle on the table below where his boots were elevated.
Kinderstaag took out a crushed cigarette from his uniform pocket. His bloody fingers held the cigarette as he put it to his lips. Kinderstaag’s lips had a trace of Heinrick’s blood on it. Kinderstaag held the cigarette between his lips as he searched for the match.
An SS soldier rushed into the courtyard and stood in front of Kinderstaag with a salute then a stiff-armed salute. Kinderstaag took the crushed cigarette from his lips. His lips had decorated the filter red just like an old woman’s red lipstick would do. Kinderstaag held the now reddish cigarette between his fingers.
“What is it?” said Kinderstaag. The soldier spoke.
“Heil Hilter,” he said extending his right hand out towards the General. Meanwhile, Commandeer Peugot wobbled back into the courtyard carrying a middle-sized pig in his two large hands.
The pig’s squeals echoed in the courtyard deafening everyone within range. Kinderstaag glanced at the Commandeer then looked back at the soldier in front of him.
“Yes, what it is?” Kinderstaag continued to hold the crushed cigarette between his fingers.
“General Shroeder requests a portion of this infantry. We are marching on the outskirts of Jena. Sir the enemy Allie Forces are reported to be heading this way,” said the soldier.
“Very well. They won’t get far. We have a sold defense wall near this town,” said Kinderstaag wincing from the squeals of the pig as The Commandeer came closer to the table.
“Heil Hilter,” saluted the soldier as The Commandeer stopped at the table.
“Heil Hilter,” said The Commandeer who struggled to control the squealing slippery pig in his hands. Kinderstaag threw down the cigarette.
“Ahhhhh,” screamed Kinderstaag as he knocked the pig out of The Commandeer’s hand. The pig stumbled as Kinderstaag raised his bloodied pistol and swiftly shot it. The pig squealed louder. The bullet on grazed its bubbly fat skin.
Kinderstaag shot the pig again. This time the bullet connected and the squeals ceased.
“Pick him up,” said Kinderstaag to Commandeer Peugot. Commander Peugot picked up bloody pig.
“Place him on the table,” said Kinderstaag. The Commandeer complied. Kinderstaag spoke.
“Commandeer, take the troop to the next town and meet up with General Schroeder. I will be fine here. Just leave me with Nine SS Soldiers. I have this under control.”
“Yes sir,” said The Commandeer as he wiped the pig guts off his hands onto his uniform. The Commandeer shouted several directions to the SS and the lot of them marched out leaving Kinderstaag and nine soldiers behind. The Nine SS Soldiers gathered around the Jews in the middle of the courtyard near the table.
