Ummm, do ya all know what a drone is?  I thought it was the way someone really boring talked.  I now know that I was wrong.  A drone is a spy, a killer, a delivery service….whatever the madman on the other end wants it to be.  Drones are small spaceships minus the alien that come down like a paper airplane and shoot pictures….or bullets at you.  Then they’re gone at the speed of light.  

I was introduced to one yesterday.  Out in my backyard, minding my own business while trying to listen in on a neighbor. Then out of the blue came a herd of drones.  Startled me to death!  I thought the wild turkeys that live in the trees were attacking me, but when the fire power began, that’s when I came undone….

DRONES!!!!

(Click on that)

“You are my shield and my… ”  That’s all I could manage to get out when I saw the black-alien-flying things coming at me.

 I was spared.  

They somehow mis-focused and blew up the basketball net.  

They were gone as fast as they came.  And they came for me, to eliminate me, actually to eliminate my story, Mama’s story.  I must continue in my quest for truth!  I have already exposed that three monks were murdered and their cases are still unsolved to this day!  Primo has no jurisdiction, of course, in a county so far away, but he did contact the homicide detectives who are now looking into reopening the unsolved case.  

But my problem is someone wants me silenced.  I will keep on with my story until we reach the end…or I reach my end.

Enough of my problems of dodging drones, onto the story.

Over the next few moths, Dave was able to get a grip on reality.   Pain had become his new companion.  It wasn’t too long after Sammy’s death when Dave was looking through the newspaper’s obituaries for information about the funeral when he ran across a startling announcement:

The Shepherd’s Gate welcomes Pastor’s daughter’s new husband, Paul Brenton, to the family!

Dave had to reread the article twice before the impact set in.  His gut felt like it was on fire.  Sal had not only had their marriage annulled, he had already married her off  again.  Dave remembered Paul, a nice quiet guy that was on the sidelines.  Perfect for Sal.  

Tossing the newspaper onto the floor, Dave ‘s dirty footprints soon blackened it as he headed outside.  He fought back the emotions that were beginning to build.  He blocked the tsunami that was waiting to flood his mind and soul.   The anger toward Sal battled the sorrow for his bride as they fought in his chest for his attention.  

Thoughts of his wife married to another man overwhelmed him, and he began the slippery slope into self pity.  He couldn’t even talk to his beloved Sammy.  He was dead.  So was his marriage;  buried at the same time.   Determined to forget the latter, Dave vowed to start a new life; one unfortunately without Sammy, gratefully without Sal and regretfully without his wife, Mika.

 Days came and went, and time seem to march on;  days turned into weeks; weeks turned into months. 

Dave found a job in the coastal town of Carmel as a ranch hand.   The estate was pristine and sat perched on the cliff.  The ranch manager, Tuffy, eagerly hired Dave and the two became fast friends.

Dave easily slid into the slow-paced outdoor life and thrived in the green hills with his new horse.  Peace slowly returned to his heart, and he was determined to not look back.  

It wasn’t long before all the other ranch hands looked up to Dave.  He captivated them at night with the story of the Gospel and the Old Testament figures.  They all shared the bunk house, and their bond became strong.  Though Tuffy was their boss, Dave became their leader.  

He soon learned how much they despised the owner, Mr. O’Hare, whom Dave had never met.  He had heard of his anger and drinking binges and unfair punishments to employees in his fits of rage.  

He was an extremely wealthy man who had inherited over 200 acres in one of the most expensive real estate proximities in the whole state of California.  His home alone was over 10,000 square feet, manned with live-in help for him and his wife.  

The men were scared of him, plain and simple.  He had fired men on-the-spot for meager infractions.  

Still, Dave  insisted that the men do their best, give it their all and go above and beyond.  So that was the way it was. 

Way out on the corner of the property was an extremely large steel shed.  It held the owner’s prized possessions:  vintage cars.  He had over twenty, and they were in perfect condition, tucked away safely in the shed.  

 

 

It was late at night when one of the men awoke Dave.  He put his finger to his lips to hush Dave and pointed toward the shed.  Dave slid out of bed, grabbing his gun and slipping on his boots.  The two quickly awakened all the men, silently pointing to the shed.  A dim light was cast from the shed, and the men knew a burglary was in progress.  It was no secret that one of the largest car collections on the west coast was contained there, and this wasn’t the first time thieves had targeted it.  

The men all armed themselves, and Tuffy called 9-1-1 to report the in-progress crime.  Fear seemed to trickle down Dave’s back as they slowly and quietly made their way through the pastures, trying to hide in the shadows.  The closer they got they could hear muffled voices and see movement inside the building.  

Dave motioned for the men to surround the building and to stay quiet.  Once everyone was in place, Dave, Tuffy and three men sprinted for the opened door to contain the men.  But they were the ones surprised.  

At that point the thieves were opening the roll-up door, and Dave heard one of the cars running.  The red tail lights of the awaiting trailer that began to back up alarmed Dave as he realized it was backing up to load up the cars.  Dave heard one of the men shout, and then all chaos broke out.  

The thief in the ’57 Corvet hit the accelerator and headed straight for the driveway and awaiting trailer.  Dave jumped out of the way, hitting his shoulder on the cement ground.  He could hear the car hitting the ramp going onto the trailer and the engine revving up.  It was then that he realized that there was at least four other cars with drivers starting up their engines.  

Dave’s head was being held down against the cold cement floor as a masked man  choked him with both hands.  Gasping for breath, Dave began to lose consciousness when suddenly the pressure ended.  The assailant dropped to the floor, exposing Tuffy standing above him, holding a pipe in the same stance as a Little League batter, eyes wide with fear. 

The other ranch hands began descending from their dark hiding places and fists began to fly.  The trailer jerk into forward action sending the teetering Corvette back down the ramp toward the two men still sprawled on the driveway.  The driver, still in the car, threw it in park and headed toward the fleeing truck and trailer, leaping into the bed of the truck. 

The hooded man’s shadow caught Dave’s eye, and he turned as the flame was thrown inside the garage.   

The fighting men turned and watched in horror as the flame landed inside the convertible Mustang, igniting the seats like a firebomb.  Dave heard the bad guys running out, away to the awaiting cars.  

The dark night lit up like a Christmas tree as the flames leaped to the ceiling.  The men grabbed anything they could to put out the fire quickly, knowing the car could explode at any moment.  

 

Hearing the sirens in the distance, Dave prayed the cops would be there soon.  Dave and the men battled the blaze and miraculously contained it to the one car.  

As the amber lights lit up the countryside, two of the ranch hands hobbled over to the fire trucks, both with burned outstretched hands.  Medics were strapping the men onto gurneys as the police interviewed the men, relaying every detail to dispatch. 

One of the responding officers who was listening intently to his radio, slowly raised  a thumbs up, as the radio traffic told of the vehicle stop taking place up the road with the thieves.  They were handcuffed on the side of Hwy 101.  Cheers raised the roof, what was remaining of it, and Dave smiled as his heart bulged with pride.  His men were heroes.  Their bravery would command the respect they deserved from the owner, Mr. O’Hare.  Dave could hardly wait until morning to tell him.  

As the sun rose, Dave’s morning ride on Tango was interrupted as Tuffy galloped up on Star.  Tuffy’s downcast eyes told their own story.  Dave knew he had just come from the owner’s house, and by all appearance, things had not gone well.  Dave’s face darkened as Tuffy quietly explained that Mr. O’Hare would not share in any of the medical expenses of the burned workers, accusing them of trying to get paid time off with a bogus injury.  Mr. O’Hare had threatened to fire them, saying he didn’t want anyone that dumb working for him.  

The last thing Dave could hear him say was Mr O’Hare thought all the men over-reacted, that the cars were all insured.   Daved abruptly turned his horse around and headed back to the bunk house.  Heading to the porch, he grabbed the long rope that hung from the huge iron bell and started ringing it to summon the men.  Within 15 minutes all the men had gathered, minus the two still in the hospital.  There seemed to be an excitement in the air, an anticipation, which was quickly crushed once Dave began. He sat on the fence railing with his feet on the lower beam and made an announcement that shocked everyone listening.  

“Tonight we go back in the shed, and we finish what was started.  We’re burning the place down and everything in it.”  

There wasn’t a word said though many conversations were being had through eye contact.  Dave repeated what Mr. O’Hare had said and agreement broke out among the men. Within moments Dave had all the men up on their feet nodding their heads and agreeing to the mayhem.

 

It was then he saw the woman on the horse in the distance coming from the estate.  As Dave stared at her, all the men turned to see Mrs. O’Hare riding full gallop toward the bunk house.  

“Oh, boy, we’re in for it now,” Dave muffled.  

But when she finally arrived to the group of men, her face looked distressed.

“Mrs. O’Hare, let me help you down” said Tuffy.

 “Thank you, Tuffy,”  she replied.

Tuffy gently helped the slender dark-haired beauty off the white horse.  Her looks were enough to drop a man.  Dave stared with his mouth hung open.   It was then that Tuffy introduced her to Dave. 

She nodded hello and started in, “I’m so sorry about my husband.  Please excuse him!  He’s a fool and a drunk.  Of course we will pay the hospital bills and no one is being let go!  I brought down a check for both men to cover their wages for a few weeks so they can rest and not work.  Please accept my gift to you tonight of homemade tamales.  Rosa will bring dinner down around 5-ish.”

She turned to Tuffy and said, “I’m so sorry again.  You’ve all shown so much loyalty.  You will all be rewarded.  Don’t worry about my husband, I’ll deal with him.”  

She turned and put her foot in the stirrup and flung her long slender leg over the saddle. Turning her horse, she clicked her tongue, and the horse took off toward home in a full gallop.  

Dave was still standing with his mouth open.

 Tuffy interrupted his thoughts and said to Dave, “Don’t even think about it, she’s married.”  

Dave caught himself and defended his posture, “I wasn’t thinking nothing.”  

“Don’t we all” replied Tuffy.  

Dave continued, still looking in the direction of the fleeing horse, “I don’t get it, how did he get her?”

 Tuffy half smiled and simply replied, “I suppose love can be blind.”  

As Abby rode back to the prison she lived in, she felt the hot tears on her cheek.  Her misery seemed almost unbearable.  All the money in the world could never buy peace and happiness in a home.  Her marriage had began crumbling within hours of the wedding.  His drinking had only added fuel to his already bad temper.  Hadn’t she given this marriage and  this man every single thing she had to give?  

Her blinding love from the beginning had been fueled with hope, hope he could change, hope she could change him.  But after twelve long miserable years of regret and heartache, she had finally given up…at least in her heart.  She knew she had no moral grounds to divorce him.  She loved God more than she hated her marriage, so she had vowed to God she would never leave.   So everyday was a day she had to carry her cross.  A cross loaded down with misery and disappointment and humiliation.  

She knew in her heart that her love for this man had died years ago, but what scared her now was the disgust that was forming in her toward him.  She had reached a point where there was not one ounce of respect left for him.  But wasn’t that what she was called to do as a wife, respect her husband?  

Overwhelmed once again at her own situation, the tears tumbled as she heard herself out loud crying to God, “Please make a way for me, Lord, please!”  As she neared the imposing mansion perched on the cliff, she felt her heart shift from misery to anger as the memories of how her husband had treated their help came flooding back to the forefront.  She may not be able to stand up for herself, but she sure could stand up for those men that kept their ranch going.  

Sliding off the horse and heading toward the house, she saw firsthand that her conversation would have to wait.  There in the large open-spaced family room sat her foul-mouthed drunk husband yelling at the football game on the television.  His vile language and fist pumps toward the TV were enough to tell her he was in no position to have a  conversation.  The familiar scene seemed to drive a knife into her gut as the setting sun cast dark shadows through her large kitchen and family room.  

Rosa was nowhere to be found, which Abby didn’t blame her, and the cold tile floors fueled the deep rejection that seem to sit right at the base of her gut.  She grabbed a water bottle out of the refrigerator and headed up the stairs to her room.  She would try to hold back the conversation she was already starting with herself.  Self pity would not dominate her life.  She kept trying to think of all her blessings,  but the pit wouldn’t budge.  

She headed for the big Jacuzzi tub and began to run the hot water.  Her mind flashed from Tuffy’s deflated face when her husband blew up on him to all the ranch-hands who looked so disappointed.  Anger surged again in her as she pictured her drunken fool of  a husband indulging his every whim.   Stuck with no hope.  The thought was overwhelming to her.  Oh, how she didn’t want to end up a bitter woman!