GOD1
by ipam
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Pamela Joan Barlow
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
PLAYERS:
Mrs. & Mr. Windsor, mistress and master, Windsor Manor, Birmingham, Alabama
Granny Hanover, god and goddess mentor, Windsor Manor
Teen gods and goddesses:
Archibald, Jamestown, Virginia, teen god, Shango, Africa
Bibi, London, Minnesota, teen goddess, Nikki, England
Chun, Tibet, New York, teen goddess, Kuan Yi, China
Fabio, Naples, Florida, teen god, Mithras, Italy
Kruti, Bali, California, teen goddess, Shivaa, India
Hansel, Lund, Utah, teen god, Balder, Sweden
Josefina, Carlsbad, New Mexico, teen goddess, Is Chel, Mexico
Liam, Waterford, Maine, teen god, Lugh, Ireland
Marcus, Athens, Georgia, teen god, Ares, Greece
Noako, Sapporo, New York, teen goddess, Dainichi, Japan
Rachel, Memphis, Tennessee, goddess, Isis, Egypt
Thian, twin brother of Thianne, god, Birmingham, Alabama
Thianne, twin sister of Thian, goddess, Birmingham, Alabama
Yaffa, Maui, Hawaii, teen goddess, Pele, Hawaiian
September 24, night, farm, Windsor Manor, Birmingham, Alabama, 56*F, clear, full moon, 1:35 a.m.
The hoofs deftly leaped over and under the heavy brush and limbs as the horses carried four hooded riders, who halted, smelled and reared their steeds to the prey located in the barn on Windsor Manor in Birmingham, Alabama.
She twisted the long wool cape around her tall slim body, not from the chill since the fall weather was slightly humid yawning for the early morning light and mild rains predicted for the late a.m. forecast, but from the thrill of the morning, the passion of the full moon and the site of her visit.
She ran full speed of a train locomotive from the back porch to one of the old wooden rickety double doors of the barn. The barn wasn’t used for holding horses. The stables were located on the east side of the manor house and farm grounds. This barn stored barrels of yellow grain, bales of green hay, extra rusty brown colored farm implements and new life forms which she was seeking at the moment.
The horses pawned the wet clay naying into the still midnight air, their beige coats shining among the bright moon light like steel armor of medieval knights.
She stopped, looked and listened, turning, and then cat leaping into a gallop toward the un-hatched door as her long silver hair and longer yellow cape fluttered like butterfly wings in the night.
The riders advanced quickly on foot as she reached the door pushing an opening for her slender body, turning quickly, shoving with both hands the heavy knotted wood, sealing her safely inside the old worn fortress until dawn…if need be.
The barn door swing halted three inches from the frame as a deep low growl permeated the air waves.
She stepped backward from the invaders of midnight, pondering a new plan of flee or fight.
Swiftly, the lead trespasser catapulted, grabbing and jerking her extended arm forward toward his smelly, sweaty body, twisting his other large paw around her swan tender neck.
“Tie her…high.” The invader to the farm barked to his cohorts.
His army quickly constructed a crude platform of dangling rope from the second floor loft wooden post and tied it around her wrists held painfully above her head as her biological form shuffled lightly back and forth across the dry hay flooring protected from the elements of the night. Her feet bound by a series of rough sailor knots of rope. She fought with her blue jean legs and booted feet lifting them airborne for an attack, useless.
The leader surveyed her with his heated eyes up and down like a piece of hanging meat in the market for purchase, sneering with distorted swollen lips.
She had slipped on her Guess jeans and Hugh Boss boots for the quick midnight visit electing to hug the long yellow wool Dior cape around her white Pom-pom Floral long gray sleeved flannel pajama top from Victoria’s Secret with the matching pajama pants and bed slippers left on the floor of her cozy and comfortable bedroom in the safe and guarded residential manor house.
He tore open the buttoned top revealing more of her long thin neck, pulsing with blood veins, angled healthy bones and sparkling sun-glowed tanned skin.
“Lunch.” This beast muttered in bad English. This wasn’t a man, at the moment. A vampire possessing gray skin from the lack of antibodies and blood loss, red eyes from jaundice of his skin tone, yellow elongated twin set of incisors, stained with red blood, long straight black hair gathered in a ponytail and shorter than a Shelton pony at four feet flat or under.
Anemia means the body is short of red blood cells or low hemoglobin content which carries oxygen to every part of the body. When the body’s tissues are deprived of oxygen, the person experiences fatigue, irritability, dizziness, memory problems, shortness of breath, headaches and weakness in the knees and bone pain.
A true medical symptom of anemia for dark-skinned people is displayed with a dull grayish tint, while on light-skinned people it shows up in a very pale yellow complexion.
Vampires come from China.
China is the world’s largest country in population and geographic area. One fifth of the planet inhabitants live among the Chinese’s one billion citizens housed in crowded cities, driest deserts, highest mountains and richest farmlands which covers one fifth of the continuant of Asia.
The world’s oldest living civilization dating back to about 3,500 B.C. The first people who lived in the tiny city-states developed the compass, gunpowder, paper, porcelain and silk. Asians and Europeans borrowed art, literature, religion and technology from this thriving civilization.
The biggest city, Shanghai is ranked as one of the largest cities in the world with 14 million people followed by Peking of 10 million and the like, casting the remaining 80% in small farms and villages throughout the countryside of China.
The division of the population results in farming as the leading economic activity in China, three-fourths of the workers being farmers.
Rice grain is the main food source for hungry Chinese boys and girls with adults consuming one pound per day. People eat wheat for bread and noodles, along with corn, sorghum, millet, cabbage, cucumbers, eggplant, radishes, tomatoes, turnips, bananas, apples and peaches, fish, eggs and soybeans with small amounts of poultry and smaller portions of meat. Tea is still a favorite beverage.
Clinicians have theorized the lack of meat in the biological system can wreak havoc on a person’s chemical production of anemia resulting in biological antibody relapse. A person can eat thick black molasses, grains and dark green vegetables to balance the weak medical condition.
Some people inherit the antibody disease through their biological genes, just like sickle cell anemia found in the African ancestry. While the Mediterranean descendants are cursed with thalassemia anemia, Italian females might contract hemolytic anemia which is fatal to a woman’s biological body. The Chinese have their secret anemia, also…vampires.
Red and organ meats, even less than .005 percent consumed amounts carry the right balance of amino acids and nutrients, strengthens resistance to infections and diseases, provides high antibodies against staphylococcus infections, polio virus, Coxsackie B virus, Escherichia coli infections, allergies, constipation, indigestion, skin disorders and tooth decay.
During a full moon phase, the human body is depleted of vital nitrogen, amino acids, proteins, hormones, antibodies and enzymes. Nitrogen and amino acids control the proteins in skin tissues, muscles, brain cells and hair. Enzymes are for controlling the rates of chemical reactions in the blood.
Documented and recorded throughout the history of time, “food” rituals are performed before, during and after the full moon. Festivals, feasts, galas, suppers and parties are always planned around food for the normal life forms and…the deranged.
Werewolf animals come from the Viking Era documented in the world’s history books which means they’re part of the bear clan.
Why do you think they’re so many different kinds of bears in the world from the Arctic to Australia?
“Eat.” Another vampire huffed to his leader drooling salvia at the delicious prey.
“Food.” The third vampire grunted staring at the tied and bounded female with an open mouth.
She was the snack before the midnight meal. She couldn’t run to escape. Yelling won’t help since her school classmates are passed out snoring in their safe and cozy beds sound asleep. So, the next best thing is sweetness.
She posed. “Me…the mosquitoes hate my blood.” She giggled. “Try a cow down field, mmm…mmm…good.” She relayed with simple words using the English language translating for their simple stupid minds to understand hoping they get a clue.
Hissing sounded in the air waves.
“Prey…mmm…mmm…good.” The gray skinned, yellow eyed lead goon teased, grabbing with both hands of massive strength her waist since the vampire was to short, pulling her closer to his ugly scarred face with really bad breath.
“Don’t bro!” The deep baritone timber of a human male voice shouted from the second floor loft.
The vampires instinctively looked upward as the tall human leaped over the post, jumped in mid-air, twirled in a forward flip, and deftly landed two bare feet onto the hay dressed in a Calvin Klein blue jean jacket covering a half-naked and half-exposed well-muscled tanned chest above red and black puppy dog cotton pajama pants.
She turned her face admiring his attire. “Puppy dogs?” She told, giggling.
He glanced sideways at her, shaking his covered head side to side wearing the backwards baseball cap. “Don’t sis?”
“Meal.” The lead GREG barked.
“Food.” The next GREG growled.
“Hunger.” The other GREG drooled with sticky yellow salvia.
The human male spoke loud and clear. “Gray skin, red eyes, yellow dog teeth, bad breathe, an uncontrolled fury, irritability, nervousness, memory loss and short…definitely GREGS.” He chuckled, turning to speak to his sister. “Ya know…they only exhibit one or two words of simple English in their current mental state of mind.”
She nodded her head at the beast holding her bound waists causing intense pain. “He said three.”
Her brother pointed upward in the air wiggling three fingers from his hand. “Three? Smart guy, you lead?” He leaned into the goon’s face, blowing air across his gray hair.
“Lead, eat.” The GREG barked, again.
Her brother countered, shaking cap side to side. “Look, man. Thianne might appear tasty but she ain’t. Do you comprehend, dude?”
“Hunger?” The GREG barked.
“Blood.” The other GREG growled.
Her brother pointed his arm in the geographical direction of west toward the green grassy pastures. “Go…down the field to some of the cows, good and tasty...got it?”
“Blood.”
“Eat.”
“Food.”
“Prey.”
Her brother pulled the cap off wiping the sweat from his forehead and shaking his head of silver hair like his sister’s. “No, man. Thianne ain’t your prey but you’ll be praying if ya don’t leave really quickly.” The human threatened with a smile, and then chuckled, slicing his eyes to Thianne.
“Why?” The lead vampire asked.
Thianne giggled. “An intelligent query?”
He sighed. He breathed deeply. The human spoke loud and clear. “She’s a diva.”
The GREGS paced two steps back except for the leader. The GREGS repeated in a mutated tone. “Diva…”
The human male explained. “Diva…female version of a god. She’s a goddess, yeah! Ya can’t hurt her or drink her blood. Taboo.” He shook his index finger at the leader. “No. No. No.”
“Diva…show?” The lead vampire muttered.
“Look, I just told ya the 411. You can’t hurt her. So…go ahead, do your damage? Spit on her.” Her brother laughed with a hardy tone.
“THIAN!” She yelled at her sibling.
“Spit…” The lead vampire spoke with a degree of puzzlement.
Thian commanded, waving his hand toward his sister hanging above the post. “Yeah, man. Spit on the goddess. Go for it! See what happens?” He laughed.
“Thian?” She frowned, moaning with the sick suggestion.
The GREG closed his mouth, pursed his lips, and rounded his cheeks gathering a huge wad of thick salvia in his mouth. He slit an opening between his stained teeth, flinging a single large wet juicy mixture of yellow, red and black liquid aiming precisely at her throat. The wad hit an invisible wall six inches from her neck, dropping like a dead fly at a parallel degree on top of the hay flooring.
“My turn.” Thianne quickly relayed. She opened her mouth emitting a spread blast of yellow and blue fire directly into the bodies of the vampires, vaporizing them into gray and red colorful sawdust.
Thian gawked in surprise, staring at her. “How did ya do that, sis? New power?”
“Thought it was acid reflux, I was goin’ burp. Flames came out, instead.” She smiled with pride and laughed.
“Too cool!” Thian complimented, laughing with her watching the dying flames fall onto the hay. He dropped the pail of water from the doorway onto the fire using his kinesis before the barn resulted in a fire.
“Thanks for the save, big brother.” Thianne offered as he untied the ropes around her wrists. She gave him a teddy bear hug of sisterly love.
He reprimanded his sibling for the reckless behavior. “Sis, full moon’s out. Not safe, why ya out of the house?”
Thianne moved out of ear shot into the back storage room, yelling. “I was worried about Fluffy and her kittens.” She kneeled onto the hay as the actives ones run to climb her wool cape for games. She petted their soft little heads.
Thian groaned staring at his sister shaking his head with the replaced baseball cap while he levitated the ropes twirling them into circles, and then placed the item on shelf near the door. “They’re fine and dandy. But we’re not. I’ll corral the horses…”
“Should we keep them?”
“This is a wildlife sanctuary for all strays.” Thian pointed to the dying sawdust bits. “No owners. No claims. They’re mine to keep and shelter.” He laughed, turning to Thianne. “Finish your petting…”
“Not great choice words, bro.” She snapped her head in his direction, frowning. He ordered with a smile and a loving hug around her shoulders. “Go home and stay put until sunrise, sis.” He rushed to exit the barn, gently closing the wooden door, whistling for the horses.
“Alright! Good night, Thian.” Thianne told in a low voice as she lifted the kitten to her chest, stroking her tiny soft head. She walked to the bug zapper hanging in front of the north wall of the barn.
The cylinder shaped object brightened with a vivid neon purple haze. She covered her eyes using her free hand. The communication boot up displayed a very bright light during the nighttime hours.
Thianne called out in the semi-dark barn. “Mama.”
Hello.
She could feel the familiar and gentle telepathic message bouncing around her brain waves. She responded with the familiar statement like she had done for the past six weeks. “Mama, I miss you. I love you so much.”
Hair of a unicorn.
“The hair of a unicorn. Unicorns do not exist, Mama.”
Seek the road.
“Mama, are you there? I will seek the road. Mama…”
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
“Mama, please come back. I need more data. Please give me around clue…Mama.”
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
“Thank you, Mama. I will seek the road. I love you. I’ll find you. I promise….with my heart and my soul. I’ll find you and free you. We can be together forever and ever.” Thianne brushed the stray tears from her eyes with her free hand while holding the tiny kitten for comfort.
During Fluffy’s delivery of her six healthy kittens, the bug zapper in the barn fell to the hay, breaking the glass bulbs within the steel casing as the strong winds from the prevailing thunder storms caught the door when Thianne rushed inside to check on her favorite small pet. After she repaired the device, lifting the zapper to the barn wooden beam, the purple light inside the casing ignited temporarily blinding her for a split second, and then Thianne felt the words buzzing inside her skull.
Thianne believed Granny was calling her for dinner using telepathy or mind reading ability which was strong. Instead, the unfamiliar voice identified she was Thianne’s mother, a goddess from one of the existing pantheons and the other half of her absent parents for the past 17 years as required by the fosterage ritual. The first time her mother had communicated with Thianne since she was a newborn babe. Thianne sobbed holding tears inside her throat.
Mama had relayed bits and bites of words in a limited telepathy message which lasted ten seconds flat. Thianne had been sneaking into the barn at night for the past six weeks listening for the clues pinpointing her Mama’s disappearance, maybe her location.
Thianne figured out part of puzzle based on the word clues. First, her Mama was the “divine” or supernatural parent, while her father was the “mortal” or the Earthling. Two, they were prisoners in Tartarus. Three, they were captured by a supernatural being. Four, other gods and goddesses and mortals were prisoners with her. Five, they can be freed. Tonight, the newest clue numbered six was the “hair of a unicorn.”
The inner, outside and sideway meaning of the clue didn’t make any sense to Thianne. Unicorns do not exist on Earth or any place else in the galaxy. She sighed. She breathed deeply.
Thianne would converse with her best friend tomorrow about the new clue. She didn’t dare tell her brother about the crazy conversation with their absent mother. As children, they were told their parents had to leave Earth and return to the Heavens to be with the other god and goddess deities.
Thian, her twin sibling, would not believe her, one, and two, he’d blab to Granny about her new supernatural gift which Thianne wanted kept secret for now.
She was close, closer than yesterday. She was going to solve the mysterious location of Tartarus and release her parents from captivity, touching, hugging and hanging with them for the first time in 17 long years. Thianne sobbed as the tears flowed down her wet face.
Thianne halted crying as the echoed sound waves bombarded her sensitive ears. She stared up into the cross beams of the barn, searching with her silver eyes. “Hello? Any one there? Mama?”
5 seconds.
4 seconds.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Thianne placed the little kitten with her sleepy brothers and sisters. “Guess not! Goodnight, Fluffy and little babies. Be safe.” She turned to leave the barn.
sunshine, classroom, school house, Windsor Manor, 72*F, partly sunny, 1:07 p.m.
“I pick…French Chateau.” Kruti waved her right hand in the air. The interior walls, ceilings and floor of the dull classroom converted from plain white walls into King Louis XIV sofas, chairs, and tables, vivid and colorful royal tapestries along with copies of 35 oil paintings of the original 300 commissioned by the King of France like a majesty palace picture from her school history book.
“Hunting lodge in Montana.” Archibald spoke shooting with an invisible hand pistol both arms, extending fingers up and down in the air waves. The room changed from French Chateau instantly into red wood-beamed ceilings, a stone limestone fireplace with a roaring fire in the corner, diamond-shaped pane windows, carved antler chandeliers above dark and light bark forest wood twig shaped branch furniture, picture framed forest landscapes covered the walls and taxidermy animal trophies mounted over the tables.
“The White House in Washington D.C.” Pele wiggled her fingers, along with her hands and hips for drama. The classroom re-shaped into an oval structure decorated in reds, yellows and whites along with portraits of former presidents of the US including George Washington, Abraham Lincoln and Jimmy Carter over the granite fireplace.
car, parking lot, outside, school house, 1:17 p.m.
The soprano voice of the young female teenage echoed among the sky and grass as she pointed her index finger at the structure. “Look over there. The White House. Are we going to meet the President of the United States?”
The young male noted with annoyance, shifting the heavy back pack over his small shoulder. “I thought we landed the plane in Alabama, not the nation’s capital.”
The tall woman calmly and politely answered with her Southern accent and Southern manners. “No presidential visit and yes, this is Alabama. You’re new class mates are just blowing off some energy trying to impress ya’ll…for the day.” She smiled and giggled.
“Look… the building changed to…” The soprano voice of the young female teen exclaimed.
The soprano voice of the second young female finished the answer. “A New York skyscraper….now, an ocean villa.” She giggled.
“Watch your step…” The elder woman cautioned. “Water.”
“Holy…snot.” The voice of the deep tenor young male teen quoted with more annoyance.
classroom, 1:22 p.m.
“Roman bath house.” Thian shouted. The ocean villa changed into four flat pools of steaming clear heated water complete with two purple three foot long diving boards and six bench seating with towels hanging from open closets.
“The Romans didn’t dive into their baths, Thian.” Yaffa scoffed.
“Looks fun to me.” Chun giggled.
“Heck fire, let’s add a Roman slave camp for naked girls…” Marcus raised his hands to materialize the physical contents of his impromptu improper suggestion for the classroom activities of the afternoon at the school.
“Siste, Marcus.” Granny Hanover, school mentor of the present alive and breathing supernatural beings, called to her “most troublesome” pupil in Latin to cease, and then popped him into the chair beside her desk. She shook her head back and forth, pointing an index finger at Marcus and then secured the loose strands of her hair bun back in place.
Teens with running out-of-control super hormones along with galloping out-of-control super powers and now...the introduction of more spoiled brats, Granny shook her head and palmed her necklace, she didn’t need more stress…today.
“Ah, shucks! Didn’t do it, Granny. I…” Marcus whined, sitting on the hard stone bench with his hands in his face pouting with frustration.
“Stoppen, Marcus.” Granny reprimanded in German for “Stop it. Marcus.”
“Nineteenth-century Swiss Alps chalet.” Chun shouted as she whirled her fingers, hands, arms twirling in small and large circles in the air waves.
The room turned into light wood floors covered with black and white fake, of course, animal skins with a fired wood stove in the corner of the room, holding an iron kettle on the top oven eye. Tables appeared surrounded by fake animal furs over wool covered single chairs and benches for two people. The west wall displayed a panorama view navy to light blue with pink tinted mountains of white snow-covered tips beneath baby blue skies.
“Great selection.” Josefina offered with a smile and giggle.
“Thanks.” Chun accepted with a smile.
Granny yelled. “Be seated, teens.”
The pupils gathered at the round tables, shoving chairs inside and out, flopping note pads, Kindle readers, cell phones, PDA’s, iPods and laptops, cloth handbags, leather clutches and nylon backpacks onto the wood surfaces as the entrance door swung open emitting bright sunshine for another beautiful day in Alabama.
Mrs. Windsor, a statute woman of six feet and two inches wearing Wrangle faded blue jean cover-alls from neck to leathery worn boot toes, and wrapped around her waist a worn but sturdy brown leather utility belt filled with tools including hammer, screw driver, nail pack, rope, flashlight, mini-first aid kit and cell phone. She dropped her shades into a side pocket as she entered the door first, leading three people following behind her like puppies.
The male voice of the young teen mentioned. “Switzerland and snow mountains, I thought we were in Alabama, not Europe. I didn’t feel the time travel shift.”
Mrs. Windsor explained turning to view the confused new pupils. “The teens are allowed to select the atmosphere of the room for continuing their academic lessons here at Sanctuary.”
“Awesome!” The female alto of the teen told, smiling, selecting an empty seat with her eyes at the furred covered tables and warm reception from the students.
“My old school didn’t do this.” The female soprano commented, surveying her new surroundings and new students with admiration and apprehension.
“Things are very different here in Alabama, dear.” Granny Hanover expressed to the new pupils, eyeing them intently.
“Indeed.” The young male quoted with a sneer.
“Young ladies and gentlemen…” Mrs. Windsor began.
“Where?”
“Present.”
“Next door…”
“Hush, teens.” Granny snapped her head to the troublesome students in the clan.
Giggles bombarded the air waves.
“Thank you, Granny.” Mrs. Windsor nodded at the elder lady before addressing the captured audience of on-lookers. “I present our new arrivals from the airport for our growing and expanding supernatural family. Here’s little Rachel from Tennessee, little Bibi from Minnesota and little…”
“I’m full grown, lady.” The deep male tenor yelled in a rude tone, standing in an offensive manner with small hands crossed over his small chest at the edge of the teacher’s desk.
“Don’t insult your hostess, sir.” Granny Hanover cautioned the young boy without smiling and piercing intense brown eyes.
“I am Liam…” The short person with the deep tenor voice told the class.
Marcus teased. “You’re short...man, that means he’s an elf, right, Balder?” He looked at the tall muscular blonde male on his left.
“No.” Liam answered in a loud timber.
“A brownie?” Marcus guessed, again and chuckled, turning to confirm with the blonde again. The blonde laughed along with old and new classmates.
“No.” Liam stated.
“A troll?” Marcus tried for the third time, laughing as the students joined the fun.
“Trolls are evil ugly short men with crooked noses and humpbacked.” Kruti explained with an authoritarian manner.
“Disqualified, Marcus.” Balder shouted, slapping Marcus’s shoulder blade with his huge hand.
“Ares…I’m Ares.” Marcus corrected his mistake.
“I am…” Liam started.
Balder finished. “Brownies have brown clocks and hoods. He’s dressed like a bozo.” He informed with a chuckle.
“I beg your pardon.” Liam replied, lifting his hands to retaliate against the ungodly insult to his divine person.
Marcus pointed a finger at Granny, shaking his head warning Liam that Granny Hanover wasn’t happy and would punish him for the violation.
Balder guessed. “A fairy…then, ‘cause they’re smaller than an average teen.”
“Pygmy from California.” Marcus offered with another jib.
Kruti shouted, “Hey, I’m California.”
“And she’s a lot prettier…” Balder offered, grinning.
“And smarter…” Marcus added, punching Kruti’s arm for fun.
“And taller than you, dude.” Balder continued, chuckling.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“A midget.” Marcus commented.
“I…am…a…Leprechaun.” Liam shouted to the roof top with a very loud tenor voice.
Laughter exploded, again.
“Why didn’t ya say so, bro? I was tired of guessing.” Marcus teased, examining his clean nails.
More laughter exploded in the air waves.
“Hardy har...har...” Liam spoke.
“See….bozo the short clown.” Marcus pointed with a clean index finger at Liam, chuckling.
“Marcus is correct….this round.” Balder acknowledged, laughing, slapping his back. They chuckled together like two thieves of the night.
“Thank you deva Liam and Mrs. Windsor, I’ll take over the classroom, now.” Granny stood, motioning for the new members to take seats among any of the round tables.
“Liam, just Liam.” The leprechaun informed with a snit.
Granny lectured. “I address all properly mannered young ladies and gentlemen as appropriate.”
Balder whispered leaning his head into the leprechaun’s face. “Dude, just go…with the flow…”
Mrs. Windsor chuckled, telling, pushing Bibi and Rachel toward tables. “Don’t worry, they’re tame…”
“…and potty trained. Hey, I riddled a riddle.” Balder smiled turning for the consensus of the teen god and goddesses.
“Poem, you riddled a poem, Balder.” Yaffa explained, shaking her head with a smile.
“I riddled a poem.” Balder repeated with a smile and hand gestures to the other gods and goddesses.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“Hush, teens.” Granny barked placing hands on hips.
“Enjoy your class, kids.” Mrs. Windsor expressed with a warm smile turning toward Granny for a short chat.
Bibi was staring out the big glass windows admiring the different types of farm animals penned inside the pastures and crops fields as far as the eyes could see. She asked touching the glass while standing next to the tall girl with long wavy silver hair. “The window’s really cold…like ice. There’s snow stacked on the bottom of the porch. What kind of place is this?”
“Hi, I’m Thianne by the way. This building is our schoolhouse for learning stuff while developing our super powers and off limits to anyone, not human, or else. We can change the setting or environment or physical layout of the entire building to match our mood for the day.”
“Wow! This is really neat.” Bibi remarked with a smile.
“Tomorrow, you can select the setting, temperature and scenery of the room for the class.”
“Really, I can.” Bibi inquired with a big smile.
“No prob. The rest of the farm is home of the Birmingham Wildlife Refugee Sanctuary for stray and abandoned animals of any kind.”
“I guess I’m the newest refugee, huh?” Bibi muttered, dropping her chin to her chest, closing her eyes.
“No. Why do you say that, Bibi?”
Bibi lifted her head staring at Thianne and offered. “I’m a pixie….I think. I don’t know. I know that I have no parents, no home, no money, no city…no nothing. I was happily living with my adoptive family two days ago until they were…killed...”
Thianne posed her hand on Bibi’s shoulder, sharing her feelings. “I’m so sorry about your loss, Bibi. Relax! We, here, have all been adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Windsor. They’re very nice people who run the park.”
“Do we work for them…for money to pay for our living expenses? Do I start working in the gardens or the house, today or tomorrow?”
Thianne placed her arm around the pixie’s thin shoulders for security and safety. “I don’t think you understand, Bibi. We’re here to train and enhance our special talents, abilities or whatever else you possess at a metaphysical level for growth and improvement to become active and responsible young goddesses.” She giggled since she recited almost word for word Granny Hanover’s speech for new supernatural kids who travel from every part of the USA to continue their training to be a full god or goddess at adulthood.
“You mean…I’m not a slave or servant for these people.”
Thianne shook her mane of silver long hair side to side. “Never. We attend the local school during the week a certain days in the mornings and in the afternoons we practice, study and mediate with our special talents.”
“This is an animal park. Who helps the animals?”
Thianne told. “Mr. and Mrs. Windsor have staff members to handle the domestic duties and domestic animals. We’re encouraged to enhance their farm duties with our particular talents.”
“What particular talents?”
Thianne smiled. “I have a healing touch with life forms. I can place my hands on your wound and heal it.”
“Wow! Neat trick.”
Thianne began. “Yeah! So cool! I found out one day when one of my cats fought receiving a big cut on his stomach. I healed him. Poof! Just like that, I could help injured animals.”
“Do you think I can do it, too?”
Thianne answered. “I don’t know. I can say working around the park…those animals…” She pointed out the window in sight of the grazing milk cows. “And these animals…” She thumbed the room filled with her classmates, giggling. “…will definitely uncover talents you never dreamed of.”
Bibi giggled. “I feel that I’m in good hands.” She pointed her index finger as Thianne wiggled thumbs and fingers. They giggled as Bibi marched to the first table looking for an open chair.
Granny yelled like a cow in heat. “Please sit down, teens. We have more work to accomplish before the sun sets in the west.”
“I need to pee…” Marcus rose from the chair by Granny’s desk with a smirk.
“Deva Marcus, I have reminded and reprimanded you over and over again to attend this classroom after seeing to your biological functions and not to use vulgar language in my presence.”
“I gotta go…” Marcus continued. “Granny.”
“I can see you will require extra duties this p.m. after the sun sets. You’re excused deva Marcus.” Granny nodded, pointing in the direction of the bathroom.
“I thank you. My bladder thanks you. My liver thanks you. My…” Marcus stopped singing as he hustled and closed the bathroom door.
Granny began. “Let us start from the beginning…”
“Not today, Granny, start in the middle.” Archibald joshed, chuckling by himself.
“Deva Archibald…”
Archibald countered. “I prefer Shango, Granny…my… ”
Granny posed with a smile. “Deva Archibald, do you require additional sets of duties after sunset?”
“No, ma’am, Granny.” Archibald shook his head side to side, lowered his chin.
“Excellent, allow us to proceed with our numerous daily academic lessons.” Granny swayed back and forth on her five feet and five inch frame, smoothing the new S-Sung beige silk dress which contained pictures of little red apples, and then, stroked the hand-crafted beaded necklace made of black and yellow hand-painted bumblebees with her left hand as she talked, an observed habit.
The woman simply was known as “Granny Hanover.” She wasn’t a grandma or held grandchildren in her arms. She was the old wise mentor at Windsor Manor located in the United States of America in the great state of Alabama outside the city limits of Birmingham for the Wildlife Sanctuary and farm land. She resided in a medium sized house along the cliff beyond the crops fields and animal pastures. She had been with Mr. and Mrs. Windsor since the beginning of time.
Her age was unknown. Her first name was unknown. Her family was unknown. Her origin was unknown. Her future was known only to her.
She was the senior adult caretaker for all the children who resided at Sanctuary starting at age 14 years to 18 until graduated into adult….or god/goddess society.
Granny Hanover always wore her long light brown hair in a bun with a ting of gray highlighted in the bangs floating above her hazel eyes. She was pale and proper, mannerly and knowledgeable about various topics ranging from earth nature, industry business, sociology, physical science, heavens and the universe.
She assisted the students learning skills from first aid injuries to first time incantations at the Windsor Manor. She could speak 44 different languages including ancient Greek, Latin and Hebrew which positioned her as their teacher for studying the cosmos and heavens.
“Before we began, can any teen name the pristine Alpine peak displayed in the snow covered windows?” Granny inquired with a stern tone. She was proper, not popular. Her personality could freeze a volcano during a fire and ash eruption.
“You gods, the Bernese Alps including the 10,530 feet Les Diablerets massif, named for the mystical devils that play skittles on its peaks.” Chun replied with a smile, standing to answer the query. The kettle on the wood stove blew white steam in the air waves.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“Knew that, too.” Archibald complimented.
“Ya did not, man.” Marcus returned, sitting next to Thianne, insulting Archibald, reaching to hit his arm but Archibald jumped quickly than scary doe out of headlight range.
Granny offered. “Excellent answer, devi Chun! To our newest arrivals, welcome to Windsor Manor, home of devas and devis.”
Kruti reminded. “We voted Granny, the females are called di...vas, not devis.”
Archibald continued. “The men…”
“What men…Shango?” Kruti taunted, grinning wickedly at her table mate.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
Archibald corrected. “The guys are called ‘gods.’ ”
Granny chuckled. “I’m most amused with both girls’s and boys’s tall tales, pretend stories and make-believe wishes in class. Therefore, I will ignore both requests.” She smiled and continued. “The good news for the newcomers, you possess special powers, gifts, talents and abilities.” She paused and grinned. “The bad news…” She stroked the necklace with her left hand. “You are not gods or goddesses….yet.”
“I don’t understand.” Bibi questioned out loud her thoughts. Her adoptive parents taught she was a supernatural being living on Earth until her parents returned.
“You are devas or devis.” Granny started.
Bibi noted and giggled. “She said that twice.”
Granny added. “The proper noun means you are half-way gods and goddesses. Deva is the masculine version for god while devi is the feminine form of goddess which comes from the Proto-Indo-European language…”
“…way back before I was born.” Archibald joked, looking around for the anticipated laughter.
Silence filled the air waves.
“I am.” Rachel admitted, frowning.
Granny continued. “This term also means you are not asuras and asuris.”
“They are subordinate beings to us…guys.” Marcus told with pride and conceit.
“Gods…” Archibald added.
“….and divas.” Yaffa added with a grin.
“We have slaves.” Bibi inquired, turning to stare at Thianne.
“More like servants...” Yaffa informed as one of the more informed divas in class.
Granny lectured. “All asuras look always toward the feet of their deva, old expression.”
“So cool.” Bibi commented, grinning and nodding her head at Thianne. Thianne smiled.
Granny told. “The asuras are males and asuris, female versions.”
“What?” Rachel asked.
“Half-way demons.” Granny told.
“I’m confused.” Bibi told, shaking her head looking into her handbag for a writing pen or pencil.
“Half a demon, what are they?” Rachel asked with a small voice.
Granny told with a surly tone. “Simply…evil angels from hell. The purpose of our class time is to discuss your supernatural role in the universe…devi Rachel, not un-related topics…like demons.”
“Yes ma’am.” Rachel offered with a nod.
“Devas and devis can control the elements of nature. You are celestial beings that control forces of nature such as fire, air, wind, sky, trees, rain, etc.” Granny explained flipping her free hand over and over in the air as she stroked her necklace made of bumblebees.
“Care to elaborate on the etc….” Archibald joshed, laughing.
Silence loomed in the air waves.
“No.” Granny spit.
Archibald stated in a low voice. “Okay with me, Granny.”
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“I will share a famous verse from the Hindu mythology: ‘First fear, the powers from a deva, second fear, the winds blown from a deva; third fear, the sun rise from a deva; fourth fear, the dead strike from a deva, the fifth fear, run’.”
Marcus stood, flexing his arms like a bodybuilder and shouted. “Heard that...run, Balder, run…..from me.” Marcus joked and then seated beside Thianne, touching her arm as she giggled at his performance.
Laughter exploded, again.
Granny told with a cold stone voice. “You all have weaknesses.”
“I do.” Bibi admitted turning to look at Thianne. Thianne shook her head with an affirmative response.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you...Bibi.” Balder winked, placing his arm on the chair without touching her body since Granny would strike him with a goddess lightning bolt for improper behavior. He’d live but it stings the tender skin for hours.
“So nice, Balder. Thank you.” Bibi smiled, batting her eyes at him. He grinned with a big wide smile, settling into the chair, chuckling.
“You are here to uncover your weakness and compensate for it, devi Bibi.” Granny clapped her hands together. “I believe a formal introduction is called within for each teen deva or devi to meet each other. Let’s start with Marcus since he seems relieved to be here.”
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
Marcus stood, six feet and six inches of deep Mediterranean tawny complexion with short curly black midnight hair on a heart shaped face, aristocratic nose, and chiseled cheekbones, turquoise eyes and thin pink lips. He shuffled the jacket of his Giorgio Armani tailored gold colored wool suit with the black pocket handkerchief onto the back of the chair, crossed his muscled arms bulking the matching gold cotton long sleeved covered buttoned shirt to the max and spoke. “I...am...Ares…”
Hooting echoed in the air waves.
Granny ordered. “Deva Marcus, please use your given name, not the ridicule childish pen name your class mates have tagged.”
Marcus repeated unfolding his god pose with a frown. “Ridicule childish pen name…”
Granny commanded with a stern tone. “Deva, your given name, city, state and any curious information you wish to share with our new class mates.”
“I am Marcus from Athens, Greece…”
“Not right, Athens, Georgia, bro.” Archibald corrected, laughing.
“I’m Greek.” Marcus argued.
“A geek.” Balder barked.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“I’m Greek which means I came from a city in Greece.” Marcus corrected.
“Your birth certificate states Athens, Georgia, bro.” Archibald noted waving the paper in the air waves, smiling.
“Hey, give that back, moron.” Marcus insulted, moving toward him on the other side of the room.
“Where did that document come from deva Archibald?” Granny asked.
Archibald admitted. “I teleported it from his foot locker.”
“Gimme...” Marcus shouted as the paper floated in the air landing on the wood surface of the table in front of Bibi.
“Get it, bro.” Archibald spoke, grinning.
“I’ll beat your big fanny later, little girl.” Marcus threatened with a scowl.
“You can try...bro.” Archibald smiled easily, turning to cut his eyes with non-fear.
“Hush, teens. Please continue deva Marcus.” Granny spoke in a loud voice.
Marcus told. “And I can read your mind…”
Balder barked. “We all can do that, Marcus, sit down.”
Marcus added. “...and I can teleport…”
Archibald offered. “Ditto, man.”
“And I can lift your chair high into the sky…without the use of my hands…or with my hands, which would you prefer, Bibi?” Marcus grinned a wicked smile, winking at her.
Thian suggested with an authoritarian tone, chuckling. “Chill out, Romano.”
Granny interrupted. “Please be seated deva Marcus, as you can see he’s still contemplating his special talent as we speak.” She paused, touching her necklace. “Now, Marcus touched upon a very important point…”
“VIP…that’s me.” Marcus praised himself, standing again, pointing to his chest.
“Not you, bro.” Archibald spit.
“We are all gods, goddesses, spirits, ghosts, goblins, witches, warlocks, pixies, fairies, elves, leprechauns and other nice and kind deities of the metaphysical world living together on Earth, expect…for you in this classroom.” Granny Hanover chuckled.
“Not funny, Granny.” Balder commented.
“We all possess varying degrees and levels of supernatural powers, telepathy, kinesis, levitation, teleportation, healing, clairvoyance, shift shaping, projection, invisibility and alchemy. In addition, each one of you possesses a very unique talent to your being…” Granny laughed. “Or supernatural being…in this case. This academic schoolhouse and this nature park provides a safe trial and error atmosphere to uncover your undiscovered new and growing abilities. Therefore, I welcome the newcomers and invite you to participate with me in our classroom and extra duty training session with your unlimited potential.” She smiled.
Marcus added. “You forget to add fight.”
“That’d be flight for the wimpy Ares.” Balder added, laughing.
“I’m the ‘war’ god, idiot.” Marcus snapped with a retort.
Granny corrected. “You don’t know your pantheons for certain secure and protective reasons. However, you are learning to be future gods and goddesses…deva Marcus. You do not fight. You lounge in lazy luxury around lush rich villas of your privileged parents with blinded servants waiting on you hand and foot obeying your every exotic command.”
Marcus grinned. “I will.”
“One day, you will be in such a place with your father.” Granny explained.
Marcus remarked with a frown. “I didn’t know if my father or mother is the deity.”
“Do you have a hint?” Granny asked.
“Nope.”
“An inkling?” Granny continued.
“Naw.”
“Has any supernatural parent communicated with you?” Granny inquired.
“I wish.”
Granny told. “Very well, part of your social training is not combat fighting or martial arts, hence, you inability to manifest any weapons of mass destruction...”
“No weapons.” Marcus whined.
“That be right, bro.” Archibald nodded with agreement of Granny’s true lesson.
Granny continued. “You are being carefully coifed to hone your talents like I mentioned before from alchemy to teleportation. Does any deva or devi have any questions?”
Silence loomed in the air waves.
“Introductions are called for Thianne, please continue.” Granny ordered.
“Yes, ma’am.” She stood tall at five feet and ten inches slender in the chocolate brown thigh-high leg Cynthia Vincent suede boots over Guess white stretched skinny jeans, Roberto Cavalli brown poncho covering her upper body over a white Old Navy turtleneck and the Ralph Lauren fringed brown handbag hanging over the chair. Her hair was silver-colored and wavy down to her waist with grey eyes. “Thank you, Granny Hanover. I’m Thianne. I’m from Birmingham, Alabama. I possess the awesome ability to shoot fire from my throat, disintegrating all life forms on contact.” She giggled.
“Dang it!” Balder shouted.
“Heck fire.” Marcus remarked.
“Hold my spit.” Archibald commented.
Granny observed, smoothing her dress with one hand and holding the necklace with her other. “That’s a wonderful hidden defensive talent, Thianne. Which you have acquired recently, I presume? How did you discover that gift?”
“I guess by…trial and error.” Thianne giggled, sitting down, grinning.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“Who would like continue the next introduction?”
The girl stood of five feet and eight inches of height with curly dark brown unruly hair to her shoulders and light green eyes wearing the Versace dark brown short jacket and skirt, J. Crew gold metallic silk jacquard tank, Marc and Marc gold peep-toes and Antonio Melani gold tote. “I’m Kruti from Bail, California with the same name of my sister city in the country of India. Kruti means ‘a work of art’.”
“Ya mean ‘a piece of work’.” Marcus maliciously countered.
Laughter exploded, again.
“Your name means, what...Marcus?” Archibald snapped his question.
Marcus stood, again, with arms crossed over his chest posing like the god of steel, Vulcan. “Marcus is ‘war-like’ in the Greek language. Therefore I truly am...Ares.”
“Sit down, Greek.” Archibald ordered.
“Geek.” Balder beeped.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
Granny reprimanded. “Hush, teens. Be seated, deva Marcus. Please continue, devi Kruti.”
Kruti nodded speaking in a clear alto. “Since, I’m influenced by the Hindu pantheon. I’ve chosen the name Shivaa.”
“Her bad a…assuming nickname….” Archibald informed, chuckling.
Granny called. “Stop there for a moment. For the newcomers, your fellow devas and devis…”
Marcus whined. “Not those titles, Granny.”
“Detenerio, Marcus.” Granny told in Spanish for “Stop it, Marcus.”
“Ares, I’m Ares.” Marcus quoted. “Remember, Granny.”
Granny smoothed her dress with one hand while holding the necklace with the other, speaking. “Your fellow teen devas and devis have selected without permission from me and for pure entertainment and irritation the nicknames of famous…”
Marcus added, grinning. “Or infamous…”
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
Granny huffed with a sneer. “Or infamous gods and goddesses which they insist on calling each other after academic sessions are completed, during rest and refreshment periods and on all social activities without me around.”
Marcus clarified. “Nicknames, Granny, they’re fun nicknames for us poor half-wit…”
Thian corrected, laughing. “The word is half-way, fifty percent, two divided by 100…you twit.”
“…half way gods and goddesses for fun and pretend.” Marcus explained.
Kruti, girl of five feet and eight inches of height with curly dark brown hair and light green eyes giggled wearing the White House/Black Market big flowered red dress in white linen with big wide black belt, black fishnet stockings, black driving gloves and black and white Nine West high heels holding her Katherine Kwei red clutch. “Right, Ares!”
Bibi pointed her index finger with awe and surprise to Kruti. “You changed your clothes.” She turned to Thianne. “She has a different outfit from before...”
Thianne whispered. “We have the ability to change our clothes but not our form. Can you do that too, Bibi?”
“Yeah, I guess. I can change my clothes…” Bibi asked.
“Anytime. Anywhere. Anyway.” Thianne giggled.
Bibi nodded her head. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
Kruti cleared her throat silencing the room, gaining the spotlight on her. “I chose Shivaa because she’s portrayed as a figure with four arms…”
“Handy.” Marcus commented.
“For trampling the body of a dwarf…” Shivaa, goddess name of Kruti added.
Marcus teased, laughing. “You hit Liam before.”
“I’m a Leprechaun, twit.” Liam barked at the insult.
“Right, I forgot, short man.” Marcus commented staring at his clean fingernails.
Granny warned. “Hush, deva Liam.”
“I sound like an arm chair.” Liam commented, loudly.
Marcus clarified. “Using the law of relativity, you’d be a foot stool, right, Balder?” He turned to grin at his pal, placing his hand in the air.
“Right, dude.” Balder high-fived the hand of Marcus.
Snickering bombarded the air waves.
Kruti concluded. “Myth lore tells the dwarf wanded evil magic against good people in which Shivaa smashed earning her the title, diva of destruction.”
Clapping echoed in the air waves.
“Cool name.” Bibi offered.
Marcus told. “See…she is talking about Liam.”
Giggling bombarded the air waves.
Granny reprimanded in the Italian language to cease. “Fermario, Marcus.”
She was five feet and an inch with short straight bobbed hair to her neck, dressed in the wild flowered patterns of blue, yellow, red, and green dress from Alexander McQueen surrounded by green and yellow and red droplets of Bulgari necklaces around the neck, bracelets around both wrists, earrings from ears, headband in hair and rings in each finger stroking the Aimee Krestenberg crystallized Swarovsk handbag on her shoulder. “You gods, my real name is Chun, which means ‘spring’ in Chinese. I like Kuan Yi, the diva of mercy.” She giggled.
“Merci with all that jewelry around your neck, arms, hands...” Marcus spoke.
Balder shouted. “Shut up, Marcus.”
“Ares, I’m Ares.”
Granny motioned with her hand, holding the bumble bee necklace with her other hand. “Please continue, devi Chun.”
“The Chinese pantheon represents patience, tenderness and love emphasized in our decorative elements shown in forms of long ropes of pearls, jewelry and falling scarves from our shoulders. I am from Tibet, New York parallel to the sister city of Tibet, China.” Kuan Yi finished, sitting down her five feet and one inch frame with long black hair and dark eyes.
“Josefina but everyone refers to me as ‘Is Chel’ which is the diva of medicine. Josefina means ‘lucky’. I’m from Carlsbad, New Mexico and my sister city is in the country of Mexico. Special talent, don’t know, yet.” She giggled shaking her five feet and six inch frame layered in the beaded chiffon Jonathan Simkhai top under the BB Dakota black blazer paired with the silver sweatpants on top of black peep-toed Betsey Johnson sky high heels and a Coach black leather clutch.
The tall blonde wearing the Juicy Couture multi-plaid red and blue vest, red shirt and Lee blue jeans complete with Havaianas flip flops possessed bright baby blue eyes, six feet and five inches. He stood with arms outward as a sign of openness and care. “I am the love god, Balder, at your service.” He bowed at the waist to the class.
“Now roll over, Hansel.” Archibald taunted.
“And Gretel’s in the kitchen eating pancakes with syrup.” Marcus added quickly before Balder could counter with a slick remark.
“You’re named from a nursery rhyme.” Liam questioned.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“Hansel is my Christian name which I’m most honored to proclaim along with my adopted nationality, I’m from Sweden...”
“No, American like the rest of us, man.” Marcus corrected, laughing.
“My adoptive parents were Swedish.” Balder told.
“Whatever…man.” Marcus conceded.
“I hale from Lund, Utah.” Balder added.
Marcus pointed. “See American…like me, him, her….” He laughed.
“Hush, deva Marcus.” Granny ordered.
“Ares. My name’s Ares.”
Hansel continued. “I like for my friends…only my friends…not my enemies…which I don’t have at the moment…but might be starting to acquire…to refer to me as Balder. I am a god in the Norse mythology associated with light, beauty, love and happiness.” He paused, staring at an object. “I can make you very happy...Bibi.” He smiled and winked at the young girl. She blushed.
Giggling flooded the air waves.
“Heel, Balder.” Thian ordered shaking his head, laughing.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
Standing six feet and four inches with no hair and dark brown eyes displaying the conservative John Varvatos navy blue sweater and slacks with navy blue Billy Reid Beatty Side zip boots, he spoke. “Archibald...”
Marcus enjoyed the tease during his salutations. “Aren’t ya bald, get it? Got it? Go! That’s a great line.” He repeated, chuckling. “Aren’t ya bald?” Thianne smacked Marcus’s bicep, giggling at his funny joke.
“What does your given name mean, Shango?” Balder asked, snickering.
Silence loomed in the air waves.
Granny told. “Archibald means ‘truly bold’.”
Marcus yelled. “Truly bald. No hair. Got it! Get it! Go! ” He laughed, clapping with his hands like a small child. “The gods made you right, man. Thanks for the confirmation, Granny.”
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“I am the god Shango. I represent rain, thunder and sorcerers from the Thunder pantheon of Africa. I’m from Jamestown, Virginia, not Africa.” He continued to stand as the audience admired him and his new suit.
“Down, Archibald.” Thian commanded, shaking his head, chuckling.
She was five feet and six inches dressed in the Channel red and gray plaid jumpsuit with the furry ankle cuffs and Ugh gray fur boots and Zac Posen gray handbag. “Noako means ‘esteemed one’ in Japanese. I am from Sapporo, New York with the same city sister in Japan. I pick the goddess of wisdom, Dainichi. And I just learned to turn invisible.” She disappeared from sight for three seconds, and then de-materialized in plain view with a different outfit.
Clapping, hooting, foot stamping resulted in the air waves.
“Cool power!”
“Awesome, Dainichi.”
“Go girl.”
“Not bad.”
“I’m better.”
“You’re not.”
“I’m not?”
“I’m hungry.”
Granny offered. “As I mentioned before, you are here to learn and discover your special gifts. Congratulations, devi Noako.”
“Thank you, Granny.” Dainichi stood smiling like the newly crowned Miss America.
“Sit, devi Noako.” Granny ordered.
“Yes ma’am.”
Five feet and eight inches with long dirty blonde hair and aqua eyes, she stood. “Yaffa, the meaning is ‘beautiful’ in Hawaiian but I like my nickname better, Pele…diva of fire.” She laughed with a hardy vengeance. “I’m from Maui if ya can’t tell.” She wore an INC military jacket paired with a green T-shirt, Calvin Klein destroyed dark jeans tucked into OTBT knee high boots with Chloe green handbag.
Shango ordered. “Show them, Pele, produce the fire ball in your hand for a demo.”
“Not necessary…” Granny corrected, quickly before the goddess did some damage with her uncontrolled power. “Sit down, devi Yaffa.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Granny nodded. “Fabio.”
“That’s my name. From Naples, Florida, not Italy. I am Mithras, the soldiers’ god.” Fabio was six feet and six inches with light blonde shoulder length hair and intense mint green eyes wearing the Kean Etro’s zephyr light-silk gray jacket and gray pants with a bright green gauzy shirt, gray wafer-thin tie and pocket handkerchief in black leather loafers.
“What’s it mean, bro?” Marcus asked with a slick grin and winked at Thianne, touching her hair with his finger. She giggled.
“Mithras slayed the mighty bull giving life to the earth. He had followers from the Roman army. He was called the soldiers’ god. Answer your question, Marcus.”
Marcus barked, looking at Mithras. “Ares, man. I’m Ares.”
“Your given name, what’s it translate into for the newcomers?” Granny commanded with a smirk.
Silence loomed in the air waves.
“He’s afraid to say it.” Shango offered, chuckling.
“Why?” Liam asked.
“Fabio is ‘bean’ in Italian…” Shango told.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“Black or white or green…” Balder added.
“The more ya eat, the more ya…” Marcus started with a loud tone.
“Stop it, Marcus.” Granny commanded, and then pointed to the silver-head six feet and six inch teen with gray eyes wearing Levi jeans and Alabama Crimson Tide short sleeved T-shirt and Jack Purcell white sneakers. “Last but not least...”
“Last…and the least...” Marcus countered, chuckled. Thianne slapped his big muscular bicep. Marcus winked at her, again.
“Our leader...” Balder acknowledged.
“Hey, I’m leader...” Marcus snapped his head around to address Balder’s mistake.
“Leader of trouble, pain and suffering.” Shango offered, chuckled.
“What god is that?” Balder asked with curiosity.
“Hindus god, Dukka.” Shivaa offered and giggled.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“Not I.” Marcus remarked, and pointed to himself.
“Yes, the Greek.”
“The geek…”
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“Hush, Ares.” Thianne punched his arm for her brother to speak.
“My name is Thian. I was born and raised…”
“Like a hog on a farm…” Marcus growled in a low baritone.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
“What does Thian mean?” Balder inquired.
“Smooth.” Thian told with a smirk.
“Cool, man. You’re smooth...” Shango complimented, holding a hand for a high-five. Thian slapped the hand.
“What does Thianne mean?” Balder turned to asked her.
“I have never found a reference to my name.” Thianne clarified.
“It means ‘my smooth sister’.” Thian slapped the shoulder of Marcus since he was touching and caressing Thianne’s fingers. “So, back off, Ares, before I hurt ya...really bad.” Marcus removed his hand.
Laughter exploded in the air waves.
Thian continued. “Born here in Birmingham.”
“…the place where Americans don’t have pagan god and goddess wall posters.” Marcus observed.
“Yes, we do.” Thian countered.
Marcus snapped his head to address Thian. “What?”
Thian explained. “George Washington is a national hero. His confession as a young boy of cutting down his father’s cherry tree is myth but based on a moral value emphasizing the quality of honesty.” He chuckled. “So, honestly…I am the god…George.”
Clapping and laughter exploded in the air waves.
“Yay, Thian.”
“Go, Thian.”
“Our leader…”
Marcus ordered. “Shut up, Thian.”
Granny Hanover stood, clutching her necklace. “I am a lexicon, a goddess of magical words, spells and incantations.”
“Does she have other powers?” Bibi asked.
“Don’t know.” Thianne offered.
“She’s bossy.” Bibi told Thianne.
“I, also, have perfect hearing, devi Bibi.” Granny remarked with a sassy tone.
Snickering bombarded the air waves.
“Before our valuable lesson for the day commences, does any devi or deva have any questions, especially from the new arrivals?” Granny asked.
Bibi asked. “What’s the difference between devas and asuras?”
Shivaa slapped Mithras hard on the shoulder. “These are devas, or male half-gods.” She pointed at herself. “We are divas, half-goddesses. I believe you want to inquire about the male asuras and female asuris.”
Granny commented. “Very good questions, devi Bibi. Asuras and asuris do not require the same kind of sustenance, meaning no drink or food.”
“Do gods eat and drink?” Bibi asked.
“Very much so.” Granny answered.
“Good, ‘cause I like to drink.” Marcus expressed with a wicked smile.
“You’re underage Ares…for beer, bro.” Shango observed, looking at Marcus.
Marcus remarked. “When I get overage, I know I’ll like beer, lots of beer, cases of...”
“Let this be a warning, no alcohol is served to minors on this park and if I catch you...” Granny let the words linger.
“We obey the laws, all the time, Granny.” Thian as leader informed. He turned to give Marcus the evil eye.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-46 show above.)