Archive for mystery

A Family Mystery Revealed

The car clattered along the road, shaded by the late afternoon’s trees. It seemed the dense forest would never end. I could hear the sound of water in the distance, even smell its freshness, but the water, a river, I presumed, never came into sight.

Frustrated, I asked the driver again. “Where is it we are going?”

Before he could answer, we rounded a sharp curve and a huge, lovely building came into view.

“Come on,” the driver said as he reached for my hand to help me out of the car. I took his hand, with a quizzical look on my face. “Why on earth, did he have you bring me here? ” I asked. “A church of some sort, a cathedral?” I asked.

“I am called Jamison.” The driver replied as we approached the granite steps to the huge, castle like building. “You may call me that.”

“Very well, Jamison,” I huffed. “Please tell my why on earth Uncle Bertram had you bring me here, and who am I to meet.”

He smiled, looking up at the turrets and towers along the buildings roof line and lead me through the dark wooden doors into a large room, lit mostly by sunlit.

“Where are we going?” I asked the driver my Uncle Bertram had hired to take me to meet a person that he referred to only as ‘someone special’.

“Ah!” He laughed. “So Old Bertram is still up to his tricks. There is nothing he loves more than to surprise his-(he cleared his throat) family!”

Most of the light coming through the windows, bu accented by a wealth of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling high above. Still, he did into answer my question.

As we walked towards the front of the room, I saw an elderly lady, kneeling at the front of the cathedral at an alter.

“Beatrice, I would like you to meet your niece, Lisette. Lisette, Beatrice is your Uncle Bertrams’ sister. She joined this order of the Catholic Church many years ago and has traveled the world as a missionary of sorts-a spokesperson for the church.”

“I see.” I whispered to Beatrice-Sister Beatrice, I presumed. “What is it that I can do for you?”

As she looked up at me for the first time, I was astonished by her beauty. The words, ‘Nun’ and ‘beautiful’ had never connected in my mind.

“Come,” she said, rose and took my hand. As we walked out the back door, I saw where the fragrance of water had come from. Before me a majestic man-made water fall flowed down a step-like structure into a circular pond below.

“What is this” I exclaimed. Sister Beatrice, looked at me and smiled. “This,” she said quietly and reverently, ” is your destiny.

This blog is generated from the prompt “Don’t Panic-photo prompt)

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Prompt Plead

WordPress Friends:

I am looking for PROMPTs to write about. I used to write for quite a few, but it seems they have all stopped publishing.  If you know of anyone who publishes PROMPTS to write for, please, let me know!  Thanks.

beebeesworld

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The Mystery of the Lily Seeds

Summer Lilies

 

They say deer eat these mine are all still healthy

Summers lilies of pumpkin gold

waving softly in the wind

The black seeds perched

precariously at the center of every leaf.

 

I wonder-which wisp of wind

will scatter seeds and where will they land?

Will they hang on drying slowly

until fall finally wilts the plant?

 

The fuzzy stamens, tempting new life-

why do the seeds form down the branch,

when the stamens and ovulates

rest within the velvety soft flower?

 

Each tiny gift nature has given

develops its own ways,

keeps its mystical secrets,

reminds us that every living thing.

 

is special, unique, magical.

Look at a daisy, a lily, a daffodil,

every one with its own way to reproduce,

Life itself holds infinite recipes.

 

Every flower shares it beauty,

to observe and enjoy is a gift

free and simple, there for the taking.

The finest things in life ARE free!

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Fresh Flowers on the Grave

 

 

Image courtesy of Unsplash.

 

I walked up the hill as I so often did. My 15-year-old son rested there with a black obsidian stone that we had ordered from Africa standing guard. Many people had left mementos over the 7 ½ years since that night of hell when we lost him. There were tiny figurines, glass etchings, a link of chains with the number of people who were supposed to be in our family, notes, items from his favorite ball teams. Then, along with Christmas ornaments and coins, we kept a vase of artificial flowers.

Ironically, I often found black widow spiders on the flowers or near the stone. Since I study arachnids, it was like a special message from me-one that spoke of the anger we both felt from the loss of his life through mistakes and excuses. When I looked at other graves in the large cemetery, I found only one other place with a black widow spider-my mother’s grave.

As I walked up the hill on this early summer day, I noticed a new container of flowers sitting in front of the stone. They were light orange with delicate leaves dancing in the breeze. As I reached the grave, I realized that the flowers were fresh. It was unusual to find fresh flowers on a grave that was not a new grave because they do not last long in the heat and wind.

I knelt down to look at a small note attached to the vase that held the flowers. On the front , I could see a set of fading initials-it had rained the night before and I couldn’t read them. As I turned the little note over, I saw a delicate pink heart. I smiled. He never got the chance to experience true love, but after all these years, someone still loved him, thought of him. Without coming to a conclusion about who the flowers were from, I smiled, ran my fingers across his name as I always did and knelt down by the stone, whispering, “I love you.”

I was reminded of something my grandfather used to tell me. “As long as someone loves you, and remembers what you loved and dreamed, you will never be forgotten.” The scent of fresh flowers wafted in the air. For just a moment, I was with him and this time, we were not alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Tales of the Lost

 

 

Image courtesy of Unsplash.

At last the tiny ship saw land ahead. Lost for two days on the shores of the Black Sea, Tony was beginning to panic. His food was running short, he was heading into hostile territory and his communications gear was not picking up the “Mayday” signals he was blasting over his communications system.

 

As Tony got closer to the land, his heart sank. There was not a sign of human life in sight. The banks were steep and rocky, small bays fooling him every few miles, he decided to stay in sight of land until he came upon some sign of life.

 

Where was he? Would the place he finally found be friendly, or some random terrorist camp, far away from those hunting them? As nightfall came, he began to worry again. Still, no civilization, still no good harbor site close to shore. He decided to keep on until the sun set and the light had faded from thee sky and then put down his anchor for the night.

 

Up ahead, Tony thought he saw a flash of light. Though his first emotion was excitement, it quickly turned to fear. He turned on a small light on his starboard to gauge the reaction of the light on shore. Relieved, the light flashed back at him-three times, he took this as a friendly sign and started toward the light.

 

As he neared the beach, he could see a campfire glowing on the shore. He packed up what gear he could carry on the life boat-gun ammo, water, a little food, dry clothes and a blanket ,anchored the little ship and hopped in. As he approached the sandy inlet, he yelled out, “Hello, there! Anyone home?”

 

Feeling rather silly at his lack of a better greeting, he heard a voice come back towards him. “Please, come on up!” said a voice that sounded rather feminine. He wondered what a woman would be doing out here? Who was she with-was it a trap? He could see in the moonlights shadows the figures of three people.

 

As he drug the life boat up the bank, past the tide line, the three figures raced down towards him.

 

“Oh, my God!” shouted one of the figures, definitely a woman. “We thought they had given up on us!”

 

“Who?” Tony asked, puzzled.

 

“We were on our way to an island for research, said the third woman.” The ship was called the Morning Dawn. It went down in a storm after taking on water We fought the storm for maybe a day, and realized we were the only survivors.”

 

Well, now there are four lost explorers, sighed Tony as he sat down on the edge of a rock.

 

 

 

 

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The Sound of Murder

The Supervisor of London’s Detective Force could not help but laugh as he shut the door after Mrs. Ford’s interview. “She tell enough white lies to ice a wedding cake.” he laughed to his finest officer.

“Yes,” replied Detective Trent. “We have dealt with her vivid imagination before, I’m afraid.”

As Supervisor Johnston leaned back in his chair, he recalled the reason for his talk with Detective Trent- a gruesome murder behind stage at a musical concert the night before.

“It was an F string from a violin that had choked Mr. Hampton.” She had sworn.

How could she have known?

 

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Mission Acomplished!

He woke up with a startled jerk. “Where the hell am I?” he thought.

 Realizing that he knew noting of his situation, he closed his eyes to a squint and played dead or at least asleep. Around him, he saw white sandstone walls, it reminded him of photos of terrorists camps hat he had seen on TV.

 He heard voices-foreign voices coming from the other side of he walls. Through a partially opened gate, he saw a group of men, dress in similar outfits, again, similar to those he had seen on news reports from new reports.

 He tried to listen for any word he might understand, any clue to where he might be, or why. He could hear the foreign voices, shouting, perhaps arguing, then, suddenly, one group disappeared around a corner out of his range of sight or hearing.

 Slowly, he rolled slightly to the left and observed a grove of trees surrounding the walls. He didn’t recognize the kind of tree, but the sky was soft blue, dimmed by a layer of thin clouds. No rain in sight, it seemed.

 He heard the sound of footsteps approaching and assumed his position of unconsciousness as they drew nearer.

 “I think we got ’em” whispered a voice in English. Not American-type English, but European or Australian, he didn’t know which.

 His heart was beating out of his chest, yet he forced himself to breathe slowly and remain still.

 Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that one of he men had rounded he crumbling corner of the sandstone wall and spotted him. What should he do? His had could just reach his ankle, and he felt for the knife he always carried strapped to his leg. Good, it was there.

 “Good Lord!” said one of the voices as it gave him a gentle kick on the back. “I think its him!”

“Hey, Marcus, is that you?” The voice said. Marcus squinted and looked at the face hovering over him.

 Marcus nodded slowly, uncertainly.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” he laughed, “We did it.” We found the crazy bastard!”

 Just then, a loud explosion went off a few hundred yards from the walls. Marcus heard the sound of a helicopter landing on the other side of the grove of trees. A shout of joy went up among the men,as they lead Marcus to the helicopter and pushed him aboard.

 “Have you got it?” asked the taller of the men. Marcus felt a heaviness in his pocket and nodded, handing in to the man, with a smile. Suddenly, he remembered his mission, his last thought, and sighed with both relief and pride. He never said a word as they patted him on the back and welcomed him “home.”

 All he could think about was Wisconsin, his wife and young boy, and how nice that job at the training school sounded.

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The End of the Game

DSCN1351He sat silently on the bench, eyes closed, fist clenched. “How could he let her manipulate him like that?”

Crowds of shoppers hurried by, bracing against the winter wind, hurrying to some warmer place. He didn’t notice the cold or the shoppers, his world had been shattered. He felt nothing.

She was waiting in the check-in line at the airport, visions of the tropics in her eyes. Her Mastercard was filled with the money he had given her, supposedly to pay for reservations and the honeymoon.

She smiled, perhaps sneered would be a better term. The fourth desperate man she had done this too. Men were just so vulnerable and stupid when they thought a beauty such as Allona actually wanted to marry them.

Joseph walked back to his apartment, took his gun from the desk and twirled the barrel. He felt like such a fool. Could he even face his co-workers again?

Allona, as she called herself this time, boarded the plane and took off for Cancun where she would enjoy a week in he sun, perhaps meet her next victim, maybe even change her name again. Once she had perfected the scheme, it seemed so simple. She would “play” them a while, until it got boring and then manipulate them into asking her to marry them. How nice of her to take care of all the details if they would just give her the funds.

Joseph put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. Just as Allona emerged from the plane. The policia were waiting when she got to the hotel. She would not ruin another man’s life.

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Stranger in the Night

DSCN2196She sat shivering under the thin cape beneath the glow of the gas light, tears trailing down her cheeks. She felt no one cared whether she lived or died, or for that matter, even existed. As she looked around the corner, she saw a well dressed man approaching her. A chill of fear went through her as he approached. He reached down and placed a handful of currency in her tattered glove. “The bells of St. Brigit’s are calling tonight.” he quietly spoke. “What does that mean?” she spoke to herself. She stood up, wiped her tears and realized someone did care. She just wondered who it was.

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A Trip to the Past

DSCN2077

“Serena,” Raven sputtered excitedly as they walked to the cafeteria beneath the beautiful autumn maples.

Raven turned around and giggled. “Serena, what’s wrong with you?

“There’s this new cafe off campus.”

“So?”smiled Raven, walking as they talked.

“Well, they serve tea ,coffee, hot chocolate or pastries, but that’s not the exciting part.”

“Then what is?” Raven asked, stopping in her tracks.

“When you walk in the door, you go back in time.” Serena whispered. “I swear. I thought I’d been drugged. Even my clothes were from the middle ages. Everything was, the food….”

“Raven grabbed Serena’s hand. “What are you waiting for, let’s go!”

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