Lucas Warbuck, The Prophet's Call, Book 1

WARNING

  No Throwing Toast Crusts!

  15

  CHAIN REACTION

  “ALFRED,” MARTHA WARBUCK’S voice arced high. Would you drop this bag off at the Salvation Army drop-box for me?” she asked. She was rushing like a linebacker, pushing a stuffed green garbage bag towards him.

  Instead of haggling with her over the extra time it would take, Alfred Warbuck just grabbed the bag and tossed it into the trunk of the car. A moment later he was turned around, backing out of the garage. He was heading out to play golf. That was his plan anyway.

  It was mid-morning on the kind of day that was like a page from a storybook. The clouds looked like cotton balls tossed in the sky. Sloane had just banged on the back door for Lucas to come out. They were going to do-some-stuff today.

  The screen door slammed and Lucas plopped down beside Sloane. With their legs dangling carefree over the porch edge, they ripped off bites of the banana-chocolate-chip muffins he had snagged off the cooling rack in the kitchen.

  He squinted to check out Lenny’s place. There was no one in sight. The sound of squabbling ravens using the Voyance house as an air force base was balanced out by the radio serenade of twangy country music drifting through the kitchen window.

  A pickup truck had arrived early over at the neighbour’s house. The two workmen, one with a dishwater-blond plastic-bowl haircut, the other with a waxed head and a bushman beard, had come to finish up house repairs. They’d already dragged on for a week. The rattling and jangling of their tools bouncing on the jalopy they rumbled in on today woke everyone up, just like other mornings. Except for grunting at one another from time to time, they didn’t talk.

  Sloane turned up her nose at the wisp of cigarette smoke wafting down off the roof next door. She fanned her face then turned to Lucas, “How’s your sister, did she get home all right?” she asked him. “How did she like her first year of college?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to see her yet,” Lucas replied. “She got in really late last night and she’s still sleeping,” he said.

  “Oh. Well it’s nice she’s home again,” Sloane replied.

  “Oh, I love this song!” The music sifting through the window screen had Sloane instantly swaying, singing like a country star. She belted out a few lines and then shot Lucas a brassy glamour look when she stopped. It was impossible for him to look away.

  Sloane dropped the act. “Hey, did your uncle ever come by to visit yet?” She asked.

  “Oh, you mean Uncle Henry?” Lucas replied. “Yeah, he was here.”

  “Does he still have those crazy sideburns?” Sloane asked with a smile.

  “Oh yeah, he still has them all right, and they’re even bigger than the last time.”

  “Wow! Sloane laughed, and Lucas did too.

  “Are you still scared of him?” Sloane wondered, her lips curled, hinting of a smile.

  “Naw,” Lucas said, looking away. “Not so much anymore, well… I’m still a bit nervous around him,” he admitted. “He’s such a big man. He always seems like a giant or something. I don’t know.”

  Sloane was thinking, “Huh, I wonder,” she said. “My dad was telling me and my mom about this guy who sees things, and knows things about the spirit world… things most people don’t. This guy goes to Africa too. My dad called him something. I’m trying to remember. Oh, yeah, a prophet. It reminded me of your uncle Henry. Weird huh?”

  “What do you mean he can see things and know things that we don’t?” Lucas asked her.

  “My dad says he always talks about kingdoms… I didn’t know what he was talking about. But now I’m wondering if he knows about Morning Star Kingdom and Darkotika. My dad said he was warning about things that are going to happen on the earth; he said the name Mezziah too. Nunzio mentioned Mezziah… I dunno.”

  They both had a lot to wonder about. By the time Lucas spoke again, each of them had already launched themselves far away… back to star-streams jetting across an ink-bowl sky… Nunzio’s world. Or was it their world too? It seemed that the world, however you see it, is way bigger than it looks.

  Finally, Lucas said, “He left me a book.”

  “Oh really?” Sloane looked like she had just been offered something delicious. “What’s it about?”

  “I don’t know, I didn’t read it,” Lucas answered matter-of-factly.

  “You didn’t read it? Well why not?” Sloane’s eyebrows bolted up. She was used to whipping through a new book in a day or two, a week tops. “What kind of book is it? Did you at least open the cover and pick through it?” she asked, with a lot more questions popping into her head. She didn’t know much about Uncle Henry, but she had always been fascinated by the stories Lucas told about him.

  “No. It looks boring. It’s just an old book and I haven’t really looked at it yet,” Lucas was stumbling.

  “Well can I see it sometime?” Sloane asked, pushing past his dippy attitude.

  The wishy-washy way Lucas said, “Yeah, I’ll show it to you,” had her thinking she might never see it.

  “Can you go and get it now?” She persisted, trying hard not to sound as pushy as she wanted to be.

  “Well, I guess so,” Lucas answered slowly, as if he was still trying to decide. “Ok, I’ll go grab it. I’ll be right back.”

  The screen door did its usual slow-slam and he was gone.

  “Hello Sloane,” Alfred Warbuck called from the driveway. He was using his professional, News Journalist voice, the one that matched his nicely pressed trousers and starchy crisp shirt and always managed to morph him out of his paunchy, couch-potato look. He was loading golf clubs and a puffed-up garbage bag into the trunk of the car. To Sloane, he was always nothing but nice. She gave him a polite, queen’s wave and smile, and then went back to nibbling chocolate chips out of her muffin.

  The scaffolding against the neighbour’s house was built like the Eifel Tower. Mr. Warbuck remembered the neighbour, Jerry, telling him they were getting some work done. The rocks from the stone chimney had cracked loose and needed re-cementing. As much as he hated the idea, he was glad to hear that it was being taken care of. He’d been watching it too and was worried an avalanche would turn his driveway into a mountain range.

  He scowled at the island of roof shingles stacked on the grass near the corner of the house. By the end of the day, hopefully it would all be gone. He could hardly wait to see this crew finish up. It was such a commotion. It made him tense. He took a deep breath. Only a few more hours and it will be all tidied up again, he told himself.

  With Alfred Warbuck’s stomach already tied in knots, it was a good thing that he didn’t know that the grand finale had not yet played out, and that he would be right in the middle of it. If he liked things planned… well then depending on how you look at it, what happened next might qualify for more than “chance.” It couldn’t have been more perfect even if it was planned. So, maybe it was.

  Mrs. Warbuck had just thrown toast crusts out onto the back lawn for the birds. Sloane watched them fling like wood-chips overhead and bounce on the grass. It was remarkable how it never did take the birds long to find them, but the hunt was always on. Instantly a gang of blackbirds anxiously eyed the brunch buffet. One parachuted down and in a feisty move, snatched a piece. He fluttered up to the perfect spot, the garage roof, to defend his meal.

  About the same time, a squirrel with a big, honey-colored nut tucked into his cheek-pouch, decided to use a tree branch as a landing strip to reach the garage. For a moment, he disappeared into the bushy end of the branch. It shook like a pom-pom. Suddenly the squirrel was an acrobat flying through the air. He landed with a soft-thump on the garage roof.

  Abruptly, the bird and the squirrel, stupid-happy with their treats, scared each other silly! The squirrel flung his nut. The bird dropped his bread. The two went crazy, wildly scolding one another.

  The hullabaloo set off a chain reaction. Just like a ball in a pinball machine, the nut rolled down the slant of the roof and headed straigh
t for the eaves trough. It clunked all the way down, bounced out the bottom, and zoomed across the driveway.

  Felix, who just happened to be treating himself to a beach day, was sunning himself on the back porch. He spotted it instantly, flipped to his feet, ready to pounce. His paws slapped the driveway pavement, just as the nut jumped off the driveway heading for the grass. Felix swatted it out of the air, trapping it under his heavy paw.

  Just then, the neighbour’s bull dog Barney rounded the fence to sniff out the house renovations. Surprise! Barney’s bloodshot eyes, looking a lot like roadmaps, were locked onto Felix. He was sure this was a threat to move in on his turf. They stalked one another. The only thing wedging them apart was a shrinking patch of lawn.

  Felix pressed himself low and hummed a warning growl. His closest escape was the towering scaffold. Suddenly his hind legs were springs. He crouched, and boing, his super-hero leap landed him five feet up. Barney was left in the dust.

  With his fur electric, he scrambled like a rock climber the rest of the way to the top, popping up at the peak, just in time.

  Just in time? Just in time to surprise the bushy-faced workman hoisting a hefty boulder into place on the side of the chimney.

  Felix hadn’t expected to find a man on the rooftop dressed like a ghost, all in white, powdered with cement dust. Why would he? And the man hadn’t expected to find a cat snaking up the side of the house either. Why would he? They scared the daylights out of each other! Felix wanted out of there fast! He didn’t have to wait long.

  The startled cement mason threw the big rock down and it thumped hard. Whack! It struck the end of a scaffold board balancing a bucket of soupy cement.

  The other guy, with the salad-bowl hair-cut, was shouldering a load of shingles across the roof. The booming boulder sounded like a bomb just hit. All of a sudden, the air was like a circus act. Stuff was flying everywhere! The roofer was spooked. Recklessly flailing back, his foot kicked a box of nails. The box took off. It slid down the slope of the roof like a world-class bobsled until it reached the eaves trough, then it flipped.

  Nails stormed to the ground targeting Mr. Warbuck’s car, just when it was sneaking out of the garage. They lassoed the car and tinkled to a stop in a scattered mess behind the wheels.

  Felix’s speed was bolstered by the commotion. He jumped like a jackrabbit and nearly tore the scaffolding down with him when he raced back to the finish line, a grassy strip on the ground. His escape was so fast he landed even before the wood plank, bouncing like an Olympic diving board, sprung the five gallon bucket of cement. Up-and-over it went. The first pail grabbed a second pail of concrete-slop on the way, and the two torpedoed towards the Warbuck’s driveway.

  Alfred Warbuck heard the nail-storm but didn’t see a thing. At least not until Felix flew across his windshield in a mad dash for the house. Before he could prop his chin back into place again, the concrete slosh crashed like a wave and washed his car. Scared witless, he hit the brakes! The next thing he knew, a hissing sound at the back of his car turned into a snort. His tires were flattening. The car bumped down with a jerk!

  “Good golly!” Mr. Warbuck hollered.

  A door-slam rattled the house. After looking everywhere, and not finding the book, Lucas hurried down from his room. “Where’s dad?” he asked, whizzing into the kitchen where his mom was tidying up. If his dad was leaving, he wanted to catch him first. He and Sloane wanted to go for a bike ride later and he needed his dad to look at a leak in his bicycle tire.

  “He’s gone golfing with Fred,” his mom answered.

  “Oh,” he frowned. I wanted him to help me with my bike tire,” he said.

  “Well, he’ll be back around three,” his mother replied.

  “Ok,” Lucas sighed. “Hey mom, do you know where that book is… you know the one Uncle Henry gave me?”

  “Yes,” his mother answered. “I put it into the goodwill bag to give away to the Salvation Army. The clutter in this house is out-of-hand. I just did a quick clean through and gathered up some things we don’t need. You said you thought that book was boring. I didn’t think you cared about it Lucas.”

  “Oh no!” Lucas cried. “You gave it away?”

  “I’m sorry Lucas. I didn’t think you would ever read it,” Mrs. Warbuck replied, surprised at his reaction.

  “Why didn’t you tell me… or ask me?” Lucas whined. “When did you give it away?” He was upset, but he knew she had guessed right. He wasn’t interested in it… until now.

  “Well, it only just went out the door a few minutes ago. I just gave the bag to your dad to drop off at the Salvation Army on his way to play golf. He just left. You just missed him,” she said. “I really am sorry.”

  “Can we ask the Salvation Army to give it back?” Lucas asked, his voice desperate.

  “Well… I don’t know Lucas.” Mrs. Warbuck answered slow. She couldn’t understand what the big deal was with this book now. It had been laying around getting dusty for weeks.

  Lucas drooped his head extra low to make sure his mom knew how unhappy he was. He gave the backdoor a little punch on the way out to punish it too. He was ready to complain to Sloane. He looked around. She wasn’t there.

  “I’m up here,” Sloane called to him. She had a giggly look on her face. She was hiding in the tree fort so Mr. Warbuck wouldn’t see her laughing her head off. With eyes glistening, she was still doubled over holding her stomach when Lucas found her.

  “Oh, my-gosh Lucas.” She was trying to catch her breath. “You just missed it!” Sloane’s voice squealed a few notches higher than usual.

  She was so wound up he couldn’t think. “Huh?” he shrugged. “Missed what? What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “Lucas, it was crazy! Look!” She was pointing down at the driveway, trying to pull herself together. Even though she was losing-it, she felt really bad too. The Warbuck’s car took a terrible spanking.

  “Whutt!” Lucas shouted, looking at the disaster in shock. Sloane jumped right in with her version of the whole thing, down to the tiniest detail. There were parts that made her burst out laughing all over again, and others that had her clasping her hand over her mouth. Lucas couldn't help but laugh too.

  By now the workmen were standing awkwardly in the front yard, pointing at the various things that had roller-coastered down the side of the house, turning the Warbuck’s driveway into what looked like, the city dump.

  Alfred Warbuck had already hustled into the house to make some calls. For sure, he would need to find two new tires. If he would have been thinking clearly, the first thing he would have done, is taken the time to hose off his car. Cement clumps, looking like sandcastles on the beach, were already starting to dry and set.

  He didn’t mean to be, but Lucas was almost too happy about the fiasco. Now he could get his book. The pasty, white-wash dribbling off the car was nearly invisible to him when he saw the keys dangling in the ignition. He snapped them up and opened the trunk.

  Lucas was eager to tear into the bulging green bag. It looked like a big olive with his red toque, the pimento, popping out of the top. He yanked his hat and tossed it at the house, wobbling to keep his balance on the scattered nails that felt like marbles under his feet. Digging through the bag was a lot like searching for the prize in a cereal box and he was pretty good at that.

  “Here it is,” he shouted. “I found the book.”Sloane kicked some nails aside and huddled up to his shoulder while he fanned the pages.

  “Oh,” Sloane jumped. “There’s the note that Uncle Henry wrote for you,” she said with a whispered hint of mystery in her voice. She tugged a scrap of paper out from under the front cover and flipped it over so they could read it together.

  Dear Lucas, The King of Morning Star Kingdom asked me to give you this Book of Knowledge and Wisdom…. It holds the answers to all the issues of life. The King is calling your name Lucas. The Keys to the Kingdom are yours if you will answer - - The Call.

  How? Turn away from Darkotika
and follow the Light. But Beware! They’ll be coming for you. Don’t be afraid. The darkness is only a shadow… it’s all a lie. Step into the Light! You are destined to reign! Upon your reading this, “The Call” shall be considered official, and registered in Morning Star Kingdom. Lucas Warbuck: You Are Hereby Summoned by the King.

  “What!” Lucas erupted with a choked voice. He fought off the tears glazing his eyes, not even knowing what he was feeling. He was blown away. A tingle of electricity tapped through his nerves. Sloane felt it too. They were both trying to come out of the brain-freeze they were in to figure out what this all meant.

  “This is awesome!” Sloane announced, as if she’d just solved a mystery. “Uncle Henry must be the prophet my dad was talking about,” her voice changed to a raspy whisper. “It’s got to be him Lucas… your Uncle Henry is a prophet… and he knows the King of Morning Star Kingdom. Incredible!” She burst out. “When’s he coming back again, I want to meet him!” She didn’t let him answer. “Lucas don’t lose this book,” Sloane commanded. “I have the feeling you’ll be needing it... or should I say, we will be needing it.”

  “Nunzio was talking about this,” Lucas seemed to agree. “Now I can see it!” He was excited. “The world we can’t see is just as real as this one!” he cried.

  “Telephone Lucas,” Mrs. Warbuck cut in. She was hanging out the front door, calling, with an urgent look on her face.