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Righteous Revenge
Righteous Revenge
Righteous Revenge
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Righteous Revenge

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Righteous Revenge, the sixth novel in the Silent Discourse series. Nick Zook, otherwise known to the world of music as, Israel King, an enigma in his own right, was born and raised in a world that refused all contemporary tools and ways of living, Nick lived and was trained well as an extreme pacifist in his Amish culture. But Nick’s life journey didn’t take him where most Amish young men go, nor did it take him where normal English young men generally go either. His marriage to a Northern Ireland Catholic immigrant, helped him and his family live and learn true forgiveness in a world full of deceit, corruption, and revenge.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherZanne Kennedy
Release dateNov 19, 2015
ISBN9781311819895
Righteous Revenge
Author

Zanne Kennedy

Zanne Kennedy is the author of the Silent Discourse series.Silent Discourse; Still, Small Voice; Profound Silence; Dissonant Melody; Beautiful Conflict. Righteous Revenges (forthcoming)She is an artist by trade and a student of the human condition by desire. Research is her passion and the Amish culture and beliefs is the spark that set the fire a blaze with the series, Silent Discourse. She captivates the reader’s minds, much like a painter wields a brush, and draws them in with her rich descriptions, characterizations, and insights.Zanne is an Arizona native.

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    Righteous Revenge - Zanne Kennedy

    Chapter 1

    Part of the Clan

    What are you doing, babe? The doctor told you to rest. Nick asked as he took his raincoat off and hung it next to the fireplace, still dripping. The castle was old, but the interior was entirely refurbished to a modern hotel, efficiently accommodating those that wished to take in the quaint Irish countryside and culture.

    I’m writing. Dodson looked up from the desk and smiled.

    Music? Nick looked over her shoulder at her work and kissed her neck as he breathed in her fresh clean body. He loved the way she smelled. Very earthy was her aroma, scented with herbs and the particular incense she burned.

    My thoughts. She answered without cause for alarm.

    What? Don’t tell me Renee has you hooked on writing. Nick smiled sheepishly as he went to the bar and started to pour a small glass of whiskey. Raising it up to Dodson, he toasted, To Ireland and its never-ending rain. He tossed back the booze and poured another.

    It’s not fair you can drink and I can’t. She put her writing away and slid over to be near his warm body on the couch.

    How are you? Nick asked, genuinely concerned.

    I told you to quit asking me. The doctor said I’d be fine. Dodson paused, then asked, Are you sure you don’t mind that we cut our honeymoon short?

    This? Ach, hell no. Ireland is beautiful, but damn. What were you thinking scheduling a honeymoon in an ancient relic? During the fall, no less. And you went and got yourself pregnant to boot! He winked at her. Anyway, I’d rather be home with Sheehan.

    It’s a castle, not a relic, my love; but old, it is. She put her head against his chest and tried to force the waves of nausea to vanish with mind control.

    The two sat and watched the gentle rainfall.

    They decided not to let the forecast keep them from enjoying the sites and foods of the Old World. The two ventured out for the evening of a fine dinner and opera, which proved to be more than what was planned.

    While in town at a small but elegant restaurant known for its traditional Irish cuisine, Dodson felt faint and collapsed. She was whisked away in an emergency vehicle for the nearest town that had a reputable hospital. The determined stay was a week for observation and tests, concluding what the two had already known: that she was, in fact, pregnant.

    Nick was told that Dodson was carrying triplets, which was a shock in itself; but having the revelations carried to him by a ghost was even more dreadful. Sylvain was a guest specter who frequently showed up in Nick’s life as a foreteller: generally, a friendly apparition that predicted deaths, weddings, and births. Nick normally could do without the ghostly visits, thank you very much. But while still alive, Sylvain never did do what Nick wanted him to. What made him think a dead Sylvain would now?

    Hans, the messenger of things to come and younger brother of Sylvain, bless his heart, was a seer too and was caught up in it all, even though he was in opposition of his peculiar gift.

    Hans tried to drown the voices and the visions out with drugs and a life that was far from his Amish upbringing. The wicked transgressions were the only way he had to diminish the spirits that relentlessly visited him.

    Nick, being the only one informed of the triplets by Hans, found it better that he kept that vital information to himself as did the doctors for fear that Dodson would freak before returning to the States. Being a rock star scheduled to the hilt with tours and singing engagements, hearing the words, You’re pregnant, wasn’t the best prognosis. But triplets?

    No, Nick surmised, it was wise on his part to keep it to himself. Or so he thought.

    You do know this place is creepy, Nick said as he finished the last two inches of the whiskey in his glass. The two had returned to the castle, makeshift hotel room, from the hospital stay.

    How so?

    It’s all the portraits of the dead hanging on the walls I find odd. I’ll never understand why your people make images of other people; in particular, the dead ones.

    They weren’t dead when they had their portraits painted. The purpose is to remember, I suppose. Dodson knew Nick was raised with the belief that it was not the Amish way to have photos taken of themselves. Graven images he called them, half jokingly. It always astounded her that though Nick had left the faith, he was still Amish at heart.

    Creepy.

    Dodson laughed. Taking photos and painting portraits of the dead was only half of her people’s oddities. She thought of how to introduce the leprechauns, banshees, and fairies to Nick, but decided against it at the moment.

    Just then, a white bolt of lightning blazed across the sky, lighting their room in a blue, iridescent glow. The explosive thunder shook the windows and doors. Dodson hid her face in the plush couch while Nick stood still in amazement.

    Did you see that? Nick went to the window and then looked back at Dodson.

    Come away with you, Nick.

    What?

    The window. Come away from it.

    But did you see it? Nick sat down. The excitement was obvious in his eyes; his glass of the amber whiskey suspended protectively so not to spill a drop.

    The lightning?

    No. Yes. I mean the blue ball.

    ‘Blue ball?’ Okay, see—that’s why I told you it wasn’t a good idea to refrain from having sex until we got home. It’s our honeymoon, after all, Nick.

    What does the blue ball that just bounced around our room have to do with… Ach, never mind. Tell me you saw it.

    Well, I saw a bright blue light, but—no on the ball.

    It came in with the lightning, or maybe it was the lightning. Anyway, it floated just there for a few seconds, then flew out. It was like… it came in to look at us, then…

    Okay. Dodson stood and started for the dresser. We are packing. I’m pregnant and seeing your dead friends, and you’re losing it with blue balls.

    No, wait, Dot. You mean you didn’t see the blue ball? Nick put down his glass and grabbed her by her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes.

    No, dear.

    Nick paused for a moment, as though he were contemplating her answer. You’re right. Let’s get the hell out of here.

    DIARY ENTRY

    I wouldn’t say either of us are really all that superstitious, but the blue ball was never brought up again.

    The flight home from Ireland was turbulent, finding myself in the bathroom or leaning over a vomit bag for nearly the entire flight a must.

    Nick, on the other hand, drank as he did on the flight to Ireland. Being terrified of flying, he thought the booze would help him sleep but, instead, just got him drunk. Nick drunk is not a pretty sight. It’s pathetic, in fact, but very funny. Four hours into the flight he had the entire first class singing along with him to the tune of one of his songs, which I recorded. I sank lower in my seat and offered my apologies each time the stewardess passed by. Nick finally passed out an hour and a half before we were to land; then, dreadfully hung over coupled with jetlag the entire next day. Although I respect Nick for dragging his sorry ass to workout with Josephine and being in the studio to help record all the more earlier that next day, he had no excuse for drinking that much.

    My band was called back early from their vacations, which they were not pleased about. I thought it crucial that we prepare early for my US tour. Between Nick in the studio and taking care of Sheehan and me rehearsing with my band, we didn’t see much of each other except for in the evenings, which were exceptionally nice.

    Today, Nick! Why are you dragging your feet so? We need to be on the Ohio State University campus sometime before tomorrow. You did promise your professor you’d show. Kathleen, is it?

    Kat. Nick clarified without a smile, avoiding Dodson’s interrogating gaze. I really don’t want to do this. He added another pair of boxers to his suitcase.

    Nick had obtained his Master’s in Music Theory and Composition through Bucknell University but finally achieved his 75 graduate credit hours’ Doctor of Philosophy from Ohio State University, all via the prison system at Castleburg Penitentiary, with the gracious assistance of Kathleen Rhey, Ph.D. Promising Doctor Rhey that he would, in fact, attend the December graduation after he had been released from prison, it was the one and only request she had asked of him. He was willing to follow through with his promise but wished he could don someone else’s skin for the event. Nick hated to be the center of attention, and this was one of those functions that his entire ancestry would have flipped over in their graves to know he participated in. But it wasn’t what bothered Nick. He had been on stage and was at one time a sought-after rock star in his little town. He dealt with the small-time fame in stride, but to ask those that he loved to sit through the mind boggling, boring pomp and circumstance was something Nick wanted to forgo.

    You promised! Dodson shot at him. He was waiting for it.

    And that’s the only reason I’m going. All those degrees mean nothing to me. It’s Kat’s friendship and dedication to a misfit like me that I’m grateful for. Kat stepped out of her comfort zone to help me; I can step out too. It’s the least I can do. I think I’m packed. Are Sheehan and Esther ready? He didn’t have to ask if she was; Dodson was born ready.

    They are waiting downstairs. Dodson paused and smiled warmly. Thanks for letting her come too. I’d rather your mom be around Sheehan than the other two nannies. Not that I don’t think Brianna and Frances aren’t adequate at tending to him. It’s a trust thing. You understand. Dodson liked how Esther taught Sheehan her Amish ways and of the world through the eyes of one who knew God more than anyone else she had ever known, save Nick. It was the Amish way of life and understanding of this earth that Dodson so craved to hear and learn about, one of the very reasons she fell in love with Nick. He, too, carried the Old World with him; it was deeply embedded in every fiber of his mind, soul, and spirit. Nick could no more veer from his upbringing than Esther could, even though neither were practicing parishioners. Dodson was thankful for both of them and their unique take on life, nonetheless.

    Trust? Damn, Dot. Of all the people on the face of God’s planet, you choose to trust Esther? He shook his head and picked up his suitcase. You, I’ll never understand, girl.

    Your mother has said she was sorry. Her congregation is punishing her. I thought you were supposed to forgive. A sly grin crossed Dodson’s lips as she walked with Nick down the stairs to the main floor where Sheehan stood waiting, his hand in Esther’s.

    Oh, I’ve forgiven. It’s the ‘trust’ I refuse to hand over just yet. I hardly think living at Creek Ridge can be deemed as a ‘punishment!’ he said loud enough for Esther to hear, not caring in the least if the harsh words hurt his mother. Bending down he retrieved his son and answered Sheehan’s excited questions as to whether or not Daddy was going too.

    Nick signed to his deaf son that, Daddy would rather go fishing, and gestured to the large fountain that was the focal point in their massive Mediterranean entryway, than to leave Creek Ridge to attend my graduation.

    Sheehan’s deep blue eyes glanced at his mother questioning if, in fact, it would be okay to bother the kois that lived without fear of disturbance in the entryway fountain now that he had been scolded numerous times for trying to touch and grab for them.

    Nick! Dodson warned with a roll of her beautiful green eyes and signed, no, letting both her son and husband know they had been sufficiently reprimanded. Esther just smiled at Nick’s antics. To get a rise from Dodson, Nick would do just about anything. She knew her son too well.

    • • •

    Kathleen and Lyn were waiting in the Columbus airport for the four and Nick’s bodyguard, Kenzie, to disembark the plane. Airport security had to make sure the celebrity and her associates were escorted untouched by the media and fans that threatened to come too close. It was the first plane ride for Esther, and she seemed to take to it like a duckling on its first jump into the water. Nick never thought that his mother, of all his inflexible Amish relatives, would have consented to this form of travel. She, however, was intoxicated with excitement over it.

    I’m so glad you could make it, Kathleen said as Nick embraced her. He then kissed Lyn, Nick’s boss, which made Kathleen’s eyes go big with surprise.

    You owe me ten dollars, Lyn said as they parted and Dodson took her turn at hugging Lyn.

    I wouldn’t have missed it, Kathleen, Nick said as he frowned while pulling a ten-dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to Lyn without question.

    Thanks. Lyn handed the ten to Kathleen. I bet your naïve professor here that you wouldn’t show. You fooled us all, big boy.

    You shouldn’t have come if you didn’t want to, Blue. Kathleen directed her comment to Nick but smiled at the shy little boy hiding his face in his mother’s shoulder. It’s good to meet you, Mrs. ah…

    Call me Dodson. And this is our son, Sheehan. Dodson pried Sheehan’s face from its hiding place and signed to him to say Hello.

    Nick laughed at his son’s refusal to sign to the stranger, saying, Well, maybe later, as he ruffled Sheehan’s hair. The little one nudged deeper into Dodson’s arms.

    Oh, he’s just playing hard to get. Learned it from his dad. Lyn added. Nick gave her a side smile as Kenzie came up from behind.

    We need to keep moving, boss. There’s a crowd forming. Kenzie jerked his head to the side where, indeed, there was a gathering of fans standing patiently to see Dodson Sinclair and her entourage.

    I have a car waiting outside for us. However, I wasn’t anticipating this many. Kathleen feared something like this would happen. She was very skilled at organizing important events for the school, but this was a notch above what even she was used to.

    No problem. Dot, you and Sheehan come with me. Nick, you and your big galoot go with your professor. Lyn signaled to Kenzie to take Nick’s suitcase while her chauffeur grabbed Dodson’s without orders. We’ll meet you at dinner. And they were all off without a kiss goodbye.

    • • •

    I really want to thank you for coming, Blue, the name Nick went by in prison. I know you’re not the type to…

    Like I said, Kat, I wouldn’t have missed it. How have you been? He changed the subject as the three got into her car.

    Kenzie whispered to Nick that he didn’t like the fact that they had split up. It’s not what was planned. Nick did not reply.

    We will meet for dinner, then I have arranged for you and your family to stay at one of the finest hotels in town. Kenzie gave Nick a questioning glance. Nick returned it with a smile. He loved to see Kenzie, his big, Scottish bodyguard, squirm. Tomorrow morning I have a breakfast scheduled at 10:00 a.m. with the president of the college and the graduate Studies and Examination Committee. You remember Jon and Reba? I hope you don’t mind.

    Nah, that’s fine, Nick replied trying to stay as calm as he could, doing his best to repress the panic attack he felt approaching like a tsunami wave. He combed his fingers through his hair and sat back against the car seat as he twirled the curls just below his ear between his fingers in a vain attempt to pacify himself. He smiled warmly at Kathleen.

    After breakfast, Miss Sinclair and… oh, I mean…

    Just call her Dodson, Kat, Nick said as he laughed at her attempt to be proper. If you can’t help yourself, then call her Mrs. King, Miss Sinclair, or just ‘Hey you.’ She’ll answer to any of these. Kenzie smirked at Nick’s helpful hints.

    Kathleen cleared her throat and started again. Okay, well, after breakfast, you and I will go get your cap, gown, tam, and hood. Then, I’ll take you to the procession line. Your wife, son, and manager can take their seats to watch in the booth that is prearranged just for them.

    I cannot leave my boss, Miss. Are there provisions for me as well? Kenzie asked as gently as he could.

    Kenzie is my bodyguard, Kat. Nick nudged his head in the direction of Kenzie and then turned his attention to the tall, meaty Scotsman. I need you to stay with Dot and Sheehan tomorrow. I’ll be fine.

    Aye, then, Kenzie said in return.

    • • •

    The dressing room provided for Nick was small but had an adequate mirror and bathroom, which he was thankful for, feeling the unnerving urge to vomit while he dressed. He looked at himself in the mirror, noting the long red pleated gown with puffy sleeves that brandished the three gray velvet panel chevrons on each side. Another full-length gray velvet pleat ran down the front with the school’s insignia on both sides. The black velvet and deep blue satin hood, signifying his Ph.D., was an article of dress Nick had no clue how to put on, so he left it and the gold cords that were to go over one arm. He was used to wearing hats. He had worn an Amish one ever since he was very small. But the black velvet, eight-sided one with the gray tassel dangling from the center of it was ludicrous at best. Finding it impossible to locate the front, he moved it from side to side in hopes of making it look presentable.

    Are you ready? Kathleen poked her head in and dropped her jaw at the man in front of her. You look…

    Ridiculous? Nick finished for her as he finally took off the black velvet hat and tossed it to a chair beside him.

    You look great! I’m very proud of you, Blue. She took the hat and placed it on top of his head in a manner that he sincerely hoped wasn’t the proper way of wearing it. He frowned at himself in the mirror as Kathleen whisked him away from it and out the door, down a vine-covered corridor, through the grass, through another corridor to a long line of similarly dressed men and women standing in wait. Seemingly, a long line to nowhere.

    What’s your name? Kathleen asked the men and women as she went down the row, finally finding the K’s midway up the row to which she stuffed Nick in and gave him strict instructions. Stay with this line, and after it’s over, stay in your seat. Do you understand, Blue?

    Stay in my seat after it’s over. Got it.

    Kathleen started to walk away but came back with more instructions. Oh here, I almost forgot. Hand this to the man after I hood you. He will call your name for your degree. She looked him in the eyes as he bent his knees so she could place the gold cords over his head, allowing them to hang from his gown like remnants of a curtain creation gone very wrong. Got it? she asked, then added as she pointed at the cords, Top honors in your field. I know it doesn’t look like it to you, but you’re very impressive, Blue.

    What do I do with this? He raised his hood that was still draped across his arm.

    Just hold on to it, Kathleen called out as she hurried back the way she brought him.

    Got it, Nick whispered as he nodded and smiled nervously to the woman in front of him who had turned to stare at him. She didn’t react in the least but just turned and started to walk with the others in the line to their mysterious destination beyond their view. Nick started to sweat and would have liked to have taken his ridiculous hat off to fan himself; and would have, but for the fact he was terrified that he would never get it back on the way it was supposed to be. Instead, he followed like a sheep being led to the slaughter.

    Finally, the procession of men and women entered a rather large building. The line he was in seemed to be the last to enter. There were literally hundreds already seated in their caps and gowns; however, not so elaborate as his. The Pomp and Circumstance music was loud and Nick could detect more than one instrument off key. This grated on his nerves like a child’s fingernails to a chalkboard.

    The faculty that was on stage sat in a full array of comical hats, elaborate hoods, and gowns; staring back down at his row as they entered and took their seats in the very front.

    Men and women, one after another, stood at the podium and spoke to the graduating class, addressing friends and family for what seemed like hours. Nick could no longer feel his butt, or legs for that matter. He shuffled in his chair and smiled again at the woman beside him. She once again looked at him as though he had four eyes.

    What are you in for? Nick asked as he turned to the sober-faced man to his left.

    I’m receiving my doctorate in Experimental Psychology, the man spoke in a whisper as he looked up his nose to Nick.

    Experimental? Well, I guess it’s better to engage in experiments before one practices, Nick replied, cynically.

    And you, sir, what exactly is your degree in? The tone in the man’s voice said rich snob, so Nick humored him.

    Mine’s in dismemberment. I wrote my dissertation on the proper removal of a home-made shank from a man’s chest cavity. I never had to step foot outside Castleburg Pen to receive my degree either. Mighty nice of the warden, don’t yah think?

    The man snubbed him, but the woman to his right finally cracked a smile. Nick smiled back at her.

    Seriously, what’s your doctorate in? She crossed her legs as she finally relaxed.

    Music Theory and Composition, Nick answered.

    You honestly think you’re going to make a decent living with that degree? the man to his left hissed smugly as though Nick had no right to sit among their kind.

    Nick turned his attention back to the man. Honestly? Probably not. I plan to subsidize my income by robbing banks. You may want to consider another line of work as well. Daddy may expect a little more than you’re willing to dish out.

    You’re a musician? the woman asked, ignoring the man to Nick’s left.

    I write music. My name is Israel King. Nick offered her his hand to shake.

    You’re Dodson Sinclair’s husband! she screeched as she shook Nick’s hand vigorously. I can’t believe it. This is Dodson Sinclair’s husband! She raised her voice once more down the row to the stoically bored doctoral candidates who, in turn, looked back down the row of chairs at Nick one face at a time; rigid robots suddenly launched into animation, causing so much commotion that the speaker stopped to look down.

    Is she here? a person three men down asked.

    Then another shouted, Is Dodson Sinclair here?

    Nick wanted to slide off his chair and slither on his belly to the nearest exit. She’s here, he whispered, then cleared his throat and looked up at the speaker as though suddenly very interested in what she had to say.

    Nice! Start a riot at your graduation, why don’t you, mister smart-ass rock star! the man next to Nick said with a satisfied smile smeared across his lips.

    Nick crossed his leg over the other, pulled his ridiculous hat down low, and folded his arms over his chest, relieved to see that the speaker had finally finished with her speech and left the podium. It was time now for the school’s staff to call out each section to grant them their official, earned degree. First to receive their degrees were those in Nick’s section; these, however, were deliberately made to stand and file down to the edge of the stage. The honor of obtaining a doctorate was, to Nick’s surprise, apparently a big deal.

    Suddenly he saw Kathleen off to the side of the stage lined up along with many more advisors, all arrayed in elaborate tams, hoods, and gowns.

    Give me your hood, Blue, she said with a smile.

    Nick handed it to her. She seemed to know exactly what to do with it. You’re my star, Blue; my favorite in an entire sky of bright lights, Kathleen said as Nick bent and she placed the hood over his head from behind, securing it in the back, making sure the honorary colors were evident for all to see.

    She stepped around to the front of him and hugged him long and hard. For a moment I was sure I was going to have to call you and your noisy, dictatorial candidate friends down to be quiet. Remember, don’t leave your seat until someone comes for you. She gave his cheek a kiss.

    Thank you, Kat, Nick whispered back.

    Come with me. I’ll walk you to the stage steps. She took the paper from Nick’s hands and handed it to the chancellor calling out the names.

    Israel King. Doctorate in Music Theory and Composition with highest honors in Musicology, Ethnomusicology, Music Therapy, Music Theory, and Composition.

    Nick walked up the stairs and to the center of the stage, shook the hand of a professor he didn’t know, was handed a book-like folder, congratulated, and then he continued off stage. He hadn’t heard the fanfare on his behalf; he was just relieved that his part in this sophisticated fiasco was over.

    Nick sat down, as did the man to his left, with their red velvet books, folders in hand.

    A time had passed while they waited for the entire company of doctoral candidates to retrieve their fancy red folders, when the man to Nick’s left whispered, So are you really Israel King?

    Nick looked his way and frowned. Occasionally. Why?

    The man finally held out his hand for Nick to shake. Doctor William James Blake III. How did you know my father was an asshole?

    Guessed, Nick said as he surmised that the man was, in fact, a bona fide rich boy.

    I get into your songs. You really did time at Castleburg? You weren’t fooling around?

    Thanks. I write them with the intent to make you like them. You really are a doctor of Experimental Psychology? Nick answered with another question, not wanting to reveal a second time that he did, in fact, receive his degrees in prison.

    I’m passionate about it. Especially if I find a certain individual exceptionally interesting. You were raised Amish as Nicolaus Zook.

    Damn, you’re good! Nick gave the man a one eyebrow-raised approval of his extensive research.

    I’m a doctor; we’re good at what we do, are we not?

    It’s a passion, I do have to admit. You’re not a stalker, are you?

    The man laughed as he assured Nick that he was, in fact, completely mad, but it was for the research and not the individual that his particular madness encompassed. Congratulations, Doctor King. I wish the best for you and your wife, Sinclair.

    Dodson, Nick clarified. Thanks, and to you too. He then stood with the rest of the students and followed along as the graduates placed their tassels in unison from the left to the right of their hats, then tossed their caps in the air. The men and women in Nick’s row, however, just removed their bizarre hats to place them under their arms in a dignified manner as they shook hands and congratulated each other. None were willing to simply toss theirs in the air. Nick, however, restrained himself from tossing his across the auditorium. He controlled his urge from doing so only for the fact that he was certain it would injure an innocent bystander.

    Kenzie motioned for him from the side aisle.

    Follow me, he ordered and took the lead. Kenzie maneuvered Nick through the thick crowd and into a prearranged room where Dodson, Sheehan, Esther, and Lyn were awaiting his arrival. They hugged the tall, handsome graduate as he turned his attention to his son and placed the silly hat on Sheehan’s head, making him look like a medieval jester. Sheehan smiled and slid into Nick’s arms, unwilling to relinquish the hat. After saying their goodbyes to Kathleen and extending an open invitation to Creek Ridge, Nick and his family boarded their plane.

    What did you like best other than my hat, that is? Nick signed to his son on the plane.

    Sheehan signed in reply to Nick’s shock, The music.

    Nick frowned questionably at Dodson.

    He likes the feel of the music. He always has, Dodson explained. Music did have a feel or vibration to it, Nick had to admit. Even though Sheehan’s physical feelings of music weren’t into the specific emotional feelings Nick’s research was in, he knew that the two, at times, could be life changing and put it in his heart to remember his son’s words.

    DIARY ENTRY

    February 1, 1983

    The feeling of life in motion within one’s body is a magical time. This child of ours is one very inexhaustible traveler. He or she likes to roam from one end of my body to the other nonstop, as though there are as many as two or even three lobbying for the best seat in the house.

    Nick did ask me if I would like more children. I had to be truthful with him and said that I was quite sure I did not. I’m more inclined to watch from afar, thank you anyway.

    ‘Children are a gift from God,’ Nick says, placing his argument forth as though I was built to care what God thought about kids. Don’t get me wrong, I love Sheehan dearly. But do I want an entire house full of them? The answer would be truthfully, ‘Are you insane? Absolutely not!’

    The gifts God gave me were not in child-rearing, but in music, entertaining, and business. I honestly think all would be better if Nick would have been the woman and I the man in this family. Nick has the loving, nurturing, tender heart. He loves kids, enjoys them. Me—I try, I really do. But my best attempt at nurturing Sheehan is feeble compared to Nick’s. My forte is in the relentless obsession to protect and provide for them as I do the entire personnel at Creek Ridge. I suppose it is an instinct or curse that has been passed down through my Irish lineage.

    Speaking of Nick, he’s staying to himself since the graduation, and it worries me how many hours he logs in at the studio recording the artists or in his office writing music. We both have settled comfortably into our daily routines. Even Esther has settled down in a motherly way, caring for Sheehan and serving nicely as the one in charge of the third floor at the estate. She continues to wear her Amish outfit, prayer cap and all, but no one seems to take it too seriously. Despite her being Amish, she blends in with the Creek Ridge misfits well.

    Chapter 2

    Let’s Be Fair

    I will be seeing Cora and Lizzy tomorrow. Will you come with me? Dodson put away her journal and slipped into bed next to Nick, his body warm and the sheets inviting.

    Nick slid his hand gently across her belly. So you decided to see the midwives? Are you sure?

    They delivered you, didn’t they?

    Yes, well. Nick paused, thankful he didn’t say what was on his mind, that being he was only one at the time. Dodson had three. He cleared his throat. I guess Cora and Lizzy will do.

    Since when did you prefer doctors over midwives? Are you losing your Amish fervor?

    I’m just being cautious.

    I should say. You haven’t touched me since you called Hans to ask him why your dead friend, Sylvain, was loitering about.

    It’s complicated, Nick said and left it at that.

    Are you sure it’s not an Amish thing? I mean, is it taboo to have sex with a pregnant woman or something?

    No… I mean, yes. I mean… it depends. I told you it’s complicated.

    Dodson placed her hand over Nick’s on her bulging stomach and looked dreamily up at the ceiling. Do you suppose it’s a boy or a girl?

    Yes. They remained silent for a moment.

    Nick? Dodson whispered.

    It’s complicated, Dot. Don’t ask me to explain it now.

    • • •

    Raven and Dove are taking flight, Kenzie relayed over his lapel radio device to central headquarters on the Creek Ridge campus. The security team at Creek Ridge matched the IRA itself, being that most of the team was, in fact, high ranking ex-IRA members, save Kenzie, who just happened to be an ex-Scotland Yard officer, a devout campaigner against the IRA. But now he was Nick’s personal bodyguard right in the midst of the hornet’s nest to his own astonishment.

    Raven was a code name for Nick, as Dove was for Dodson. Neither knew of the code the security used for them, nor would they have cared. They couldn’t have fully comprehended the enormous task the security at Creek Ridge had of ensuring their safety.

    The black Lincoln Continental lumbered down the country lane to Cora and Lizzy’s farm, Nick wishing he could vanish into the upholstery and hide, feeling a little self-conscious in the luxurious limo. His Amish family and friends didn’t see much of a need for such a lush device when a simple horse and buggy would do just fine. Frankly, Nick felt the same.

    Ach, Miss Dodson and Nicolaus, Cora said as she opened her screen door to allow them into the large white main house, much the same as the one Nick was raised in.

    Take a seat while Lizzy and I prepare the examining room, this being a built-on addition to their already large white traditional Amish-style main house.

    Nick stared at Dodson from across the room as they both sat and waited patiently for the two to return.

    Stop it!

    What?

    You know what.

    Nick looked out the window, knowing fully what Dodson was accusing him of. I just… he started to say looking back at her, then gave up and looked back out through the open window beside him.

    Please come in now, Cora said. Her prayer cap was skewed as though she and Lizzy had been wrestling in the other room instead of getting it ready for Dodson, which made Nick want to laugh out loud. He, however, remained stoically charming instead.

    If you don’t mind, I wish to be seen alone. Nick, could you please wait for me in here? Dodson’s tone was business-like. Nick had heard it once too many times since they had been married.

    What? You don’t want me… Dodson shot him a menacing glare. I’ll just wait right here, he resigned as he sat back down.

    The look in his eyes was one of a pouting little boy. He mumbled something as he continued to look out the window as if he could care less, but Dodson and the sisters knew better.

    When was your last period, my dear? Lizzy asked as she helped Dodson onto the bed and makeshift examining table, draping her with a clean white sheet.

    Well, let’s see. Nick and I were handfast on September 3. My last period was around three weeks prior.

    No intercourse before, I take it? Lizzy asked point blank, not looking up at Dodson while helping her part her legs so Lizzy could take a look.

    Dodson never formally knew what it was the doctors, and now the midwives, looked for while poking around her privates, but she was certain that what was evident to them was more than she cared to know about, so she drew the white sheet that covered her naked body closer to her chin and answered Lizzy with a definitive, Certainly not!

    Please sit up. You may get dressed now, dear, Cora said, offering Dodson a hand up after Lizzy had finished.

    I surmise that you are about five months along. How are you feeling?

    I’m not so sick as I was, but still very tired.

    That is to be expected. Are your dreams fitful still?

    How did you know I was having nightmares? Did Nick tell you…

    No, darling. Knowing comes with the job. How has Nicolaus been to you?

    Dodson hadn’t heard Nick’s Christian name spoken in years, and it took her aback, which caught the attention of the sisters. She flinched again, thinking she may have given them the wrong impression of Lizzy’s question. He is nothing less than perfect, he is. I couldn’t ask for any better. Why?

    Well, it’s just that you asked to be seen without him accompanying you.

    Is that odd? Dodson asked, hoping it would defer the sisters from any further personal questioning.

    It is! was Lizzy’s blunt reply.

    Oh. Well, it’s just… Dodson started backpeddling as fast as she could. It’s that he dotes over me so. I’m not used to it, nor do I care for it.

    You know, child, you are not in this alone. This is a family affair now. Cora was the tender one, her words and expressions were gentle and kind, whereas Lizzy’s were at times too sharp and edgy, but she always meant well. Dodson respected both immensely nonetheless.

    Let’s take a listen to the heart of your child, shall we? Cora bypassed Lizzy’s interrogations and placed the scope to Dodson’s distended belly. Straightening up Cora looked at her sister and with concern handed Lizzy the scope.

    How many did you come away with? Lizzy asked her sister in their dialect as she, too, stood up after listening to Dodson’s belly.

    Three, Cora whispered in English.

    Three what? Dodson said loud enough for Nick to hear in the next room and bolted from the bed as though there were snakes crawling around beneath the sheet.

    In the other room Nick shut his eyes, knowing for almost five months that, indeed, there were three. He dreaded this moment and would have loved to have stepped quietly from the midwives’ home and into the limo that awaited outside if he could.

    Nick! came a shrill shriek from within the examining room.

    What is it, babe? Nick asked as he rushed into the room.

    As if you didn’t know! Why didn’t you tell me?

    Tell you what? Nick asked, putting on his best game face.

    Three! There are three in here. Dodson pointed to her belly that was still draped with the sheet so not to expose her nakedness, her face drenched with tears.

    Well… Nick paused, then looked at the spellbound sisters, who both had backed themselves into the corner of the room. Nick wasn’t sure if they were fearful for their lives or his. He started to smile at the fear in their eyes, then turned back to Dodson and shrugged, What can I say, Dot?

    Get out of my sight! Dodson screamed and pointed to the door of Lizzy and Cora’s home as though it were her own. Nick looked to the sisters for help.

    Lizzy was the first to move from the safety of their corner and headed straight for Nick. Do as your wife asks, she said as she walked Nick to their doorway in haste. Once outside she reassured him that Dodson’s reaction wasn’t at all odd and that they would speak to her on his behalf, as if it may indeed be totally his fault that she was impregnated with the three aliens.

    Nick made his way to the chauffeur and leaned against the car for what seemed an eternity. Bending down, he finally told Jed to wait for Dodson but that he would walk home: home meaning his mother’s farm that was just across the pasture to the west.

    The walk through the snow was an afterthought that he wished he had contemplated before starting out. By the time he reached the front door to his mother’s main house, his sister, Shelley, had already opened it for him to enter.

    What are you doing? she asked as her little three-year-old daughter Hanna stood close beside her with a peanut butter covered wooden spoon in her mouth, most of which was smeared across her face.

    I thought I’d take a walk. Is the rest of the family here? Nick asked as he headed for the fireplace that Shelley had kept at a steady roaring pitch to Nick’s gratitude.

    If you mean Katie and Eli, they are in town, thank God, she added under her breath, getting a look from Nick that said, tell me more.

    Do I hear a bit of discontent? he asked as they both sat on the two hardback chairs in the front room next to the fire, Nick to get warm and Shelley to fretfully ring her hands of ten fingers and two thumbs, a birth defect that was extraordinary to say the least, but to her and the Zook family it was as normal as eight fingers and two thumbs. It was simply, Shelley.

    Nick, I’m so glad to see you. Noah is in the barn. After you warm yourself, go see him. She stood and wiped Hanna’s face with her apron, smiling sadly back at Nick as she was about to go back into the kitchen.

    No, you don’t. What’s up? Nick grabbed for her dress, then thought against it. It was not looked upon kindly to touch a believer when he, in their minds, had voluntarily abandoned the faith. Sit! he ordered his younger sister instead.

    Ach, I can’t say what’s on my heart and it is killing me, but I know I cannot take much more, nor can Noah.

    Spit it out. No, wait… Let me guess, that way you won’t be gossiping. Nick knew Shelley would never speak ill of anyone―ever. So to get to the truth, he had to speak for her and trust Shelley to say nothing, thus, confirming the truth. It was just the way it was done.

    Katy is intolerable, your kids are suffering under her continual scolding and demands, and Noah feels as helpless as Eli does?

    We have to move, Shelley opened up. On the other hand, there is nowhere to go. All of the farms near are taken, and Noah doesn’t like District 24. They are too unbendable in their beliefs. We need prayers, Nick. God knows we cannot put up with… Shelley placed her larger than normal hand in front of her mouth, making Nick smile. God forgive me.

    He looked down at his hands and thought a moment. Noah’s in the barn? he finally asked, looking back up at her with a mischievous smile.

    "Ja, da barn."

    Nick buttoned his coat and pulled his collar high against his neck as he stood. "Tell your mam, datt is hungry and so is Uncle Nick. Something hot would be nice," he said as he touched the tip of Hanna’s nose, making her smile.

    Nick. Shelley called out low before he exited the front door. Is everything okay? She spoke now in their home language, which was a mixture of German, Swiss, and a little English.

    A few hiccups. Nothing God doesn’t know about.

    Dodson? Shelley persisted, her eyes showing her true concern.

    Lizzy and Cora just informed her of the babies.

    Babies? Shelley said with a broad smile.

    Three of them, and five months along at that. Act surprised when she tells you. Right now she would rather see me hung from my… you know what. So I’ll pray for you if you will for me.

    Shelley once again placed her hand to her mouth to hide the snicker that she could not stifle.

    Hey, old man. I see you are staying successfully clear of flying debris.

    Ach, Nick! Noah took Nick’s hand to shake. Noah was a more liberal-thinking Amish man and held no custom or belief in the stricter teachings of shunning.

    You’re going to hell for shaking my hand, you know!

    Noah returned the smile and shook his head. I just might at that. It’s good to see you, Nick. What brings you out, and how is Esther and your new family?

    Dodson brings me out―or I should say, forced me out, and Esther is in her element, I dare say. Don’t let Samuel or the elders know so. They would come to pay a visit to Creek Ridge, and we both know Creek Ridge most assuredly would sway them all to abandon the faith. Nick was jokingly referring to the grandeur of his estate, which Noah knew. Noah was aware that Creek Ridge didn’t mean a thing to Nick. On a more sober note, don’t you think it’s time you and Shelley get a place of your own?

    Noah looked offended and turned to continue mending the halter he had been working on. God knows, I would if I could.

    Nick knew if he had mentioned his and Shelley’s conversation the both of them would be in trouble with Noah. He also knew that one never asked if their fellow Amish brother needed something when it was apparent that there was, in fact, a need that required being met.

    A good farmer is needed to take on the land south of Creek Ridge. Are you game?

    There is no farming going on there. No one knows who that land belongs to, Noah replied.

    That land belongs to me. Are you game? Nick repeated.

    Noah laughed out loud realizing Nick had to be joking. You wish!

    I’m dead serious, Noah. I was given that land and much more by my father, Germain. You can have the church help you build a house and barn to raise your family on and tend to the land as you see fit. All I ask is that you return 10 percent to the church, pay the taxes on it, and return 5 percent to me. The rest you live off of. Oh, and I ask that you give up two acres to the church to build a schoolhouse on the southwest side of my land near the old covered bridge. My kids will need to attend school somewhere, and a one-room schoolhouse is what I wish them to attend.

    I don’t know what to say, Nick.

    Say, ‘I’ll go get the lumber and the brethren to help build my home. And thank God for a wife that refuses to gossip!’

    The tears came unashamed to Noah’s eyes as he once again took Nick’s hand in both of his. You are an answer to our prayers, Nick.

    Apparently. Now, what to do about poor Eli and the kids. Have any suggestions?

    Ach, I do, but God would not like that I speak what’s on my heart concerning Eli’s dilemma.

    Nick laughed, knowing Noah had all he could take from Katy and her fledglings. As innocent as children are, they also can be tainted by their parents, or at least one in particular. Katy’s baby birds were, at best, infected with her intolerant, judgmental spirit, and it was all Eli could handle to keep the seemingly upright family together. Eli was the complete opposite of Katie.

    It was no secret that Nick and Katy never got along. His entire Amish district knew of her and Jacob’s hatred for Nick. Nick now had a chance to pull Shelley and Noah from the dysfunctional Zook web, and he was going to do what he could to help them. As for Eli, poor soul, Nick knew it was a matter of time before he would crack, and Nick was determined to be there when he did. There was not much more Nick could do about it. Time would take its toll.

    The two made their way to the barn’s large double doors and looked out at the black Lincoln Continental lumbering up the lane at a fast clip. Looks like a storm’s brewing, Noah said, not paying much attention to the limo as it turned into the Zook farm.

    More than you’ll ever know, was Nick’s reply, never taking his eyes from Dodson’s sedan. He made his way to the car and waited for the chauffeur to roll down Dodson’s window, leaving Noah to look on in awe.

    Get in! Dodson barked from the opposite side of the car as Nick bent beside the open window to take note of her.

    Excuse me? Nick snapped back.

    Dodson’s lips went tight as she looked away. I’m sorry. Please get in.

    Nope. I have a ride, thanks. You can take your big black boat back on your own. Noah and I have some business in town anyway, don’t we, Noah? Nick winked at his brother-in-law, then continued, Oh, and Dot… next time you feel the need to order me out of your life, be very sure the hell you mean it! Death do us part, baby―so unless you plan to do me in, keep your ‘get-outs’ to a minimum; otherwise, we are in this together. Got it? Nick nodded in confirmation, his eyes zeroing in on hers. After seeing the tears and her nod that she did, in fact, ‘get it,’ he popped the top of the limo with a slap of his hand and ordered, Take her home, Jed.

    • • •

    I don’t like doing that. I’m sorry you had to see it, Nick said to break the silence as Noah drove them both into town in his buggy. Dot means well, but she is all business. Family and friends come at a cost to her. She is comfortable working, she’s disciplined, and very good at it. Nick sighed.

    Eli and I can take lessons from you.

    Ach, not me, Noah. I’m a pushover; no bite, just a bottomless growl. Nick smiled at his words, knowing that they were true. It’s the way God made women that I marvel at. If their man doesn’t meet their needs, they are quick to take control, and God help us men if we fail them. Let’s face it; it’s out of their kindness and love that our wives even allow us to be with them―or live for that matter. I just pray I can be what Dot needs. So far I’m willing, but doing a poor job of it. Creek Ridge and those that have taken refuge within its gates are Dot’s obsession, though it’s slightly miscalculated, I’m afraid.

    How so? Noah asked, loving it when Nick reached into his soul and allowed Noah to hear his thoughts. Noah admired

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