(Author’s note: I am hoping to do some cleanup and addressing of things in the upcoming future, but I’m unfortunately having to focus some of my off-time to completing the creation of tests and development of school related things. I plan to have an updated “State of the Blog” coming sometime around late April. Otherwise, here’s today’s fictioneers.)
Author’s Note: If you like what you’ve been reading today and in the past, and want to stay in touch, you can find me on Facebook at this link. If you wish to catch me on Twitter, as well, come to this link.
The Fire Still Burns
by Miles Rost
They were lucky to have left Qianshun Square alive.
Paige Hennessey and Uri Syrokova breathed a sigh of relief behind a dumpster in a shabby part of the area, using a tarp and the surrounding garbage to keep themselves covered, safe, and alive. They practiced the drill a thousand times, and put it into execution more times than they wished to count.
They were trained to be persistent, to go in without fear and worry, to trust that they were being taken care of even in the worst of places. They were the ones to go in, bolster the existing infrastructure and be the distraction while people moved from place to place.
This was the life of a subversive missionary, reinforcements for those who suffered under the hands of oppressive governments or anti-faith authorities. The job was a hearty one, full of danger, full of potential fatalities, but with what the faithful would consider major rewards.
Paige and Uri came from different parts of the world, but were almost inseparable in their mission. Both had a passion for refueling the faithful, while going to places that normal folks couldn’t.
Paige was an Irish lass from Wexford, who studied at a university in America, before moving onto the field of subversive missionary work. A red-headed firebrand, she currently was sporting a short, black, bob-style haircut. As she calmed her pulse down, and collected her thoughts, she smiled at the work she was doing.
Uri was an Ashkenazi from Novosibersk, Russia, who was originally a child thief on the streets before finding Christ at the age of 15. After turning himself around, and getting an education that barely made it into university, he ended up in Minnesota. He was able to graduate from the University of Minnesota, before meeting Paige and starting his work as a subversive missionary. Naturally blonde-haired, he was wearing a very convincing skullcap, and glasses that made him look more middle-aged than his 25 years belied.
After an hour, both of them felt that it was safe enough to depart from their “makeshift” trash cover.
“Do you think we gave them the slip?” Paige asked, looking concerned at their current situation.
“We won’t know until after we try to escape the square area. I am pretty sure they’re going to comb the area and search for people who are out of place,” Uri replied, taking a deep breath.
Ditching their wigs and other things in a nearby receptacle, they snuck down to the corner of the alleyway and looked towards the square.
“It looks like they didn’t secure the square like they normally do, Uri. I can see people milling around.”
“Good, that’ll make things easier for us. We may be caught, but since you’re red and I’m blonde, and they’re looking for a Korean and a old geezer, I don’t think they’ll do much with us.”
“You better be right. If I get caught and executed, I am going to charge you for the cleanup.”
“We blame it on Moose and Squirrel,” he replied, smiling while effecting his best Boris Badenov accent.
They took a breath, and casually walked out of the alleyway. They walked into the open, and towards the edge of Qianshun Square, looking up at the lights of the plaza and the buildings. Almost immediately upon reaching the square, they were stopped by two Chinese Red Guard soldiers.
“Stop! Let us see your papers!” they said, in Chinese.
Uri and Paige searched their pockets, and pulled out their passports. They looked shocked, as the guards looked them over. One of them, a shorter female guard, looked at them and spoke to them in perfect English.
“Do you know why we stopped you?” she asked, trying hard to look fierce.
“Uh, no. Not really.” Paige said, effecting a non-committal tone.
“There were two people here, who were about your height, doing some things they weren’t supposed to.”
Paige and Uri looked at each other.
“Tell me, have you seen these two people?”
The young soldier pulled out sketches of the bob-haired girl and the middle-aged bald man.
Uri looked at the pictures, and going back to his thoughts, he played the act of an oblivious college kid.
“I think I saw them, but I just have no idea whether it’s actually them. I think they were heading towards the river, but I can’t be too sure.”
Paige piped up.
“Hey, I remember her! The Korean girl. Remember when I told you I liked her legs and wish I had them?”
“Yeah, I remember that!”
“See? You did know!” she said, looking back at the soldiers, “I remember seeing them passing us, but they looked like they were heading towards that famous bridge back a ways.”
The soldiers looked at them, blinked twice, then stepped back.
“Have a good day. It would be suggested to get back to the place you’re staying and stay there for the night. The streets aren’t going to be safe until morning.”
The pair nodded, and proceeded to walk past the soldiers, linking arms as they headed off.
As they disappeared out of the other side of the square, they smiled at each other.
“Think they bought it?”
“Hook line and sinker. Another church’s fire is burning bright again. Let’s get outta here, and back to HQ.”
15 years ago, Charles Martin stood on top of an outcropping over Lake Superior and yelled out to anyone who could hear him on the lake.
“I WILL NEVER, EVER, GET MARRIED!”
Charles was a frustrated man. From the time he was young, everything he wanted to do was thwarted in some way. He had a dream of becoming a congressman, and the corruption of those who he looked up to left him in disgust. He had a dream of going into the NFL and becoming a great running back, and a torn ACL in high school killed his career before it could even start. Before that day, 15 years ago, he was engaged twice. Both times, the women left him.
“You’re boring.”
“You are just not right for me after all.”
Charles was so frustrated by these dumpings, and his incredible bad luck during his teen years, that at the age of 24, he made his proclamation to God, the world, the water, and anything that could hear him.
Those 15 years gave Charles a chance to get himself on a better track. He graduated from college, toured the United States, and later left for China to teach Mathematics to university students.
He and his fellow teacher, Shen-Wei, sat in a bar and joked over a couple of Qingdao beers.
“Man, I could never live in the US again. They’re just falling over flat. Being here…it’s close to heaven,” Charles said, his speech slurring slightly from the amount of beers that he has.
“China can be good place for people. Not exactly heaven, but it has great beer.”
As they laughed at the botched reference to an old Wisconsin tavern tune, a young lady walked up behind Shen-Wei and tapped his shoulder. She asked a few things in Chinese to him, and he replied brusquely. She nodded, and walked over to Charles.
“I told your friend, you are very handsome,” she said, in broken English.
Charles eyed her up and down, to get an idea of who she was. As he finished giving her the scanning eye, he noticed a small tattoo on her shoulder. The tattoo was of a celtic cross. He started to feel a bit fuzzy, as he looked down at his own shoulder. He remembered getting a similar tattoo years ago, without even thinking about things.
“Where did you get the tattoo?” he asked her, skipping all pleasantries.
“Korea. I got idea in vision.”
“Interesting.”
By this time, the fascination had gone by. However, his heart wouldn’t let him leave it behind just yet.
“What is your name?”
“Shen-Zhen. In English, I am Cindy.”
After that first meeting, Charles went home and sat. The image of that celtic cross on her shoulder, in the same exact place as his, made him wonder.
He tried to forget her, but everywhere he went in the city of Qingdao, somehow she was there. Even if she didn’t talk to him, he still saw her dead in his sights. Slowly, but surely, he noticed that he liked going places and seeing her there. He didn’t know what he could do. He made his vow. Did this mean that he was falling for someone again?
The answer to his question happened about 2 weeks after the last encounter, 6 months after their first meeting.
He sat in a park in Qingdao, looking around and just resting. He had seen Cindy earlier in the month, but started to avoid the bars. He just wasn’t interested in drinking cheap beer anymore.
“Charles?”
He looked up from his bench and straight into the deep dark brown eyes of Cindy.
“Cindy…what are you doing here?”
“I came to find you. You haven’t been around.”
“I decided to give up drinking and bars.”
Cindy smiled, and sat down.
“I think of you. You make me happy.”
Charles’s head swung her way quickly.
“What do you mean?”
“There is famous poet here, many years ago, said something important. “A man who says he never marries, will find love when he doesn’t want it.””
Charles groaned.
“Not another Confucius says…”
She looked at him and turned a small bit of fire on him.
Now that didn’t sound like Confucius, Charles thought.
“Who said that?”
Cindy smiled.
“Eddie the Rabbitt.”
Charles looked at her, his eyes staring at her in disbelief.
“Tell me, Cindy. Are you trying to say you love me?”
“Yes. I want you forever.”
Charles was floored. He didn’t know what to reply.
“I said once that I would never marry. What would make you different from the others who left me?”
Cindy looked at him square in the eye and pulled her shirt over her head. Next to her tank top, on the shoulder, she showed him the celtic cross. She grabbed his sweater, and pulled it to show his.
“We are linked.”
He suddenly realized that it wasn’t going to be the same as the others. If he didn’t take his chance now with this woman, he was lost forever.
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