The Stone of Blood by Tony Nalley Read Free Book Online
Authors: Tony Nalley
volume they could all but hear.
“Clean this place up!” he said to his officers; turning, walking and wiping his face and brow of the spittle with his handkerchief and then removing his wide brimmed hat. “We have no need to start a war here yet, so let’s not arouse more attention than we already have.”
“You have the cadaver still? The one in the wagon from Lexington ?” He stated to his men rather than questioned. His chief officer acknowledged.
“Jetez-le dans le puits et les faire boire.” Il a dit dans la langue de sorte que seuls ses hommes pouvaient le comprendre. “Le choléra se propage et ne sera plus sage.”
“Throw it in the water well and make them drink from it.” he said in tongue so that only his men could understand him. “The cholera will spread and no one will be the wiser.”
“Nous allons tous les tuer! Il vous suffit de regarder, comme si elle faisait partie de l'épidémie.” At-il poursuivi, comme il se tourna et sourit malicieusement les gens s’entassent sur les planchers.
“We’ll kill them all! It’ll just look like it were part of the epidemic.” He continued as he smiled wickedly at the people huddled together upon the floors.
“And oh yes.” Nathanael said as he struck a match and lit the end of a finely rolled cigar he had taken from the Rowan House. He checked the time on his Pocket Watch and then breathed in a long deep toke of tobacco and looked upon the woman who was even now, smiling callously at him, clad in chains.
Through lingering wisps and circling rings of smoke he watched her eyes as he slowly exhaled.
“Burn the witch!”
Five
Innocent Blood
The fruits of wisdom and knowledge do not often grow upon the same tree. Knowledge can be obtained through pages of a book or by the impromptu instruction of a teacher. While wisdom however, cannot be found on a book shelf in a library or from guidance for that matter but that of the One master; for many have obtained knowledge of this world, while few have ever had the wisdom to use it.
What wisdom had been gained upon that Sunday afternoon when I was five years old, I may never know. Our family had just returned from a local church picnic. A carnival picnic of sorts whereby cotton candy and spinnin’ wheels had filled our eyes with fantasy! Amidst all of the excitement, it had been a single solitary red balloon that had held my imagination. Filled with helium, the balloon floated free upon the air but for a small string attached to its base; the other end of the string bein’ held by my hand.
It was not the joy the balloon had brought into my life, nor its captivating allure but the loss of it that I have most remembered. I could but only stand upon that earth and watch it as its string slipped from my grasp to float freely up and out into the atmosphere, away from me! A place where no clouds obstructed its view and where no winds took it from site!
Mama told me that ‘ my balloon was gone ’ and that she was ‘ really sorry . But that there was no way that I could ever get it back .’
I looked upon my mother’s face with eyes of innocence. And through it all I held on to hope.
And as the shadows of the day became the darkness of the night, my dreams led me to the mornin’ of the followin’ day.
And as I ran to my window and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I saw the vision of my balloon hoverin’ just above the ground by which it had left! My balloon had returned!
There was no explanation, but aforethought.
Had the God of the universe held back the winds in answer to the still small prayer of a child such as me? Was it the balloon or its return to me that I was to remember?
Was its purpose that I relate this story to others as an example of God’s power even in the smallest of things?
I truly believe that it can be the smallest of things or in the
“Clean this place up!” he said to his officers; turning, walking and wiping his face and brow of the spittle with his handkerchief and then removing his wide brimmed hat. “We have no need to start a war here yet, so let’s not arouse more attention than we already have.”
“You have the cadaver still? The one in the wagon from Lexington ?” He stated to his men rather than questioned. His chief officer acknowledged.
“Jetez-le dans le puits et les faire boire.” Il a dit dans la langue de sorte que seuls ses hommes pouvaient le comprendre. “Le choléra se propage et ne sera plus sage.”
“Throw it in the water well and make them drink from it.” he said in tongue so that only his men could understand him. “The cholera will spread and no one will be the wiser.”
“Nous allons tous les tuer! Il vous suffit de regarder, comme si elle faisait partie de l'épidémie.” At-il poursuivi, comme il se tourna et sourit malicieusement les gens s’entassent sur les planchers.
“We’ll kill them all! It’ll just look like it were part of the epidemic.” He continued as he smiled wickedly at the people huddled together upon the floors.
“And oh yes.” Nathanael said as he struck a match and lit the end of a finely rolled cigar he had taken from the Rowan House. He checked the time on his Pocket Watch and then breathed in a long deep toke of tobacco and looked upon the woman who was even now, smiling callously at him, clad in chains.
Through lingering wisps and circling rings of smoke he watched her eyes as he slowly exhaled.
“Burn the witch!”
Five
Innocent Blood
The fruits of wisdom and knowledge do not often grow upon the same tree. Knowledge can be obtained through pages of a book or by the impromptu instruction of a teacher. While wisdom however, cannot be found on a book shelf in a library or from guidance for that matter but that of the One master; for many have obtained knowledge of this world, while few have ever had the wisdom to use it.
What wisdom had been gained upon that Sunday afternoon when I was five years old, I may never know. Our family had just returned from a local church picnic. A carnival picnic of sorts whereby cotton candy and spinnin’ wheels had filled our eyes with fantasy! Amidst all of the excitement, it had been a single solitary red balloon that had held my imagination. Filled with helium, the balloon floated free upon the air but for a small string attached to its base; the other end of the string bein’ held by my hand.
It was not the joy the balloon had brought into my life, nor its captivating allure but the loss of it that I have most remembered. I could but only stand upon that earth and watch it as its string slipped from my grasp to float freely up and out into the atmosphere, away from me! A place where no clouds obstructed its view and where no winds took it from site!
Mama told me that ‘ my balloon was gone ’ and that she was ‘ really sorry . But that there was no way that I could ever get it back .’
I looked upon my mother’s face with eyes of innocence. And through it all I held on to hope.
And as the shadows of the day became the darkness of the night, my dreams led me to the mornin’ of the followin’ day.
And as I ran to my window and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I saw the vision of my balloon hoverin’ just above the ground by which it had left! My balloon had returned!
There was no explanation, but aforethought.
Had the God of the universe held back the winds in answer to the still small prayer of a child such as me? Was it the balloon or its return to me that I was to remember?
Was its purpose that I relate this story to others as an example of God’s power even in the smallest of things?
I truly believe that it can be the smallest of things or in the
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