Book of Carrot: Chapter 2.1 by Stan Faryna

This is a continuation of the posts originally titled, An Untitled Novel About The Long Road of Hope.

[ Chapter 1.1 is here. ]

Chapter 2.1.1

Forty Acres of Pristine Paradise – Mule Not Included

05 July 2023

The B52s, Rock Lobster, started to play in John’s ear set.

B52s, Rock Lobster
………………………………………………..

………………………………………………..

John woke up. Cristina was sleeping; her head rested on his shoulder. He played his social messages.

Ok. Playing Social Messages from 04 July 2023 from 4:58 am in reverse order.

Bucharest Herald

A Belgian student has sold her virginity in an online auction for the equivalent of £45,000. The 21-year-old named only as Noelle put her body up for sale on the Amsterdam-based Yantra escort girl site in March, the Daily Mail writes. link

 Jar

There is no objective reality. There is nothing outside of you that doesn’t come from inside you. You always get what you are looking for. Everything is subjective. So what are you creating? Hell on earth? Or paradise?! You own paradise. It’s always been yours.

B-Gossip

Romanian robber-baron Dinu Patricu celebrates Liberty Bank of Georgia’s return to its former name, Bank of the People, after it’s acquisition of the former national banking titan, Bank of Americas. “Imagine that! A Romanian, a Georgian and a China-man owns America’s banks” Patriciu told reporters.“ vid

Jar

Paradise belongs to you. No one can take that away. So why aren’t you creating paradise? Stop waiting for the train to come in. Let’s build paradise together. Starting now. I’m bringing you in on the ground floor. We’re going to make paradise happen on Earth. link

DrJackKing

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter. ~Martin Luther King, Jr

John selected Retweet with a glance.

K-9 scheduled the retweet to go out at the next network connection.

Jar

Because, yes, we can! <grin> Obama couldn’t, but, yes, we can. Because we have faith! Because you believe in you. Because you believe that peace and prosperity belongs to you. Not someone else. Not the other man that drives the Porsche. Not the other woman getting all the attention. Not the Jones who went on holiday to Hong Kong or Bali.


The convoy passed three black Dacia Dusters on the side of the road. Armed men smiled and waved to the passing convoy. When the convoy passed, the Dusters moved to block the road again.

Then the convoy slowly moved down the serpentine road that led to Cacica. John lowered the window. Roosters were crowing in the distance. Songbirds chirped and warbled up a great commotion.

John’s Father appeared on the monitor.

“Good morning. We’re making our final descent to paradise. We’ll be landing in just a moment. According to yesterday’s weather report, it will be a bright, sunny day in Cacica.”

He paused.

“We’ll be stopping at the world famous Piety, Pie and Coffee Shop for breakfast. For those of you who want to get into a bed right away or jump into a hot shower, just stay in the car and the car will take you on to the Sanctuary Spa and Wellness luxury resort.

You’ll receive your room assignments and keys at the reception desk. If you need anything, just ask anyone at the concierge desk.”

Grace, Max and Lumi had never been to Cacica. But they just felt better as they took in the rolling green hills. Cristina woke up, looked out the open window and smiled at the green. It was so good to be here. She kissed John and he smiled.

Thank you God, John prayed silently.

The cars pulled up at Piety. The pick ups with the luggage, police escort and gun trucks continued at a slow, leisurely roll to the Sanctuary.

Two dozen people got out of the cars and stretched. Hachi stayed close to John’s father as he gave instructions to several drivers to follow the Porsches. Most wanted a hot shower and a bed including Cristina. Grace, Lumi and Max joined John at an outside table.

As soon as they had sat down at a table, two waiters brought them glasses, a pitcher of water and a pitcher of fresh squeezed orange juice. The pitchers were traditional folk art ceramics. The double walled ceramic pitchers were yellow and green; they were decorated with primitive style animals in celebratory occasion.

A lion and lamb danced on one pitcher. They danced to the songs of a cat and dog, arm in arm like best friends, while a small orchestra of animal musicians played on.

On the other, one hundred deer leapt with a joie de vivre. The deer leapt across rolling hills of flowers and green and streams.

“These are so charming,” Grace observed.

“My Father made the artwork for the designs,” John answered and rolled his eyes. “But the ceramics are made by Florin Colibaba.”

“Colibaba. That name sounds familiar,” said Grace enthusiatically.

“Florin is a traditional, folk art craftsman,” replied John. “My father has been collecting his work and collaborating with him for many years. He has enough plates and bowls to decorate more than a few restaurants.

If you like, I’ll introduce you to Florin. He’s lived in Cacica for some years now. He works here with his son.”

“Cool. I’d like that,” replied Grace.

“Me too,” Max added. But Max had something else on her mind.

A waiter brought the menus and a small plate of chocolates. They ordered four café lattes and four slices of pecan pie a la mode.

“What do you think is happening in Bucharest?” Max finally asked.

“The power is still out,” interrupted John’s Father with a warm smile. “We have a friend there with a radio.”

 …

Max thanked John’s father for the news, excused herself, and went along for a walk.

She walked around the side of the cafe to a fragrant circle of 12 Silver Linden trees. In the center of the ring, there were benches and a fountain. Thick clusters of yellow-white flowers covered the trees. The strong, sweet fragrance and the gentle ringing of the fountain calmed her.

Violeta would like this place, Max thought to herself. Tears rolled down her cheek. She imagined Violeta there.

Mommy, what beautiful flowers! I like it here. Teddy, what do you think?

‘Teddy likes it here! Teddy likes it so much that Teddy’s heart is smiling.’

Me too, Teddy. Me too!

“You’ll find Violeta,” John’s father said to Max as he approached.

Max was startled. Hachi came and licked her hand.

“You’ll find Violeta in Bucharest,” John’s father said. “You’ll hold her again in you arms. You’ll smell her hair and your heart will be full. You will be healed…”

Tears streamed down Max’s face.

“How do you know?” she asked with some difficulty. “How could you know her name?”

“You just need to have Faith, Max,” he replied softly as he placed a hand gently on top of her head.

“God will heal you – if you let him put his hand upon your heart.”

Max began weeping violently. John’s father removed his hand and left her to begin her journey of healing.

Hachi went to sniff and mark the trees.

Ok. Playing Social Messages from 04 July 2023 from 4:59 am in reverse order.

Endtimez

The end is hurling our way. May the Lord always be with you. See you on the other side.

Jar

Paradise belongs to you. No one can take that away. So why aren’t you creating paradise? Stop waiting for the train to come in. Let’s build paradise together. Starting now. I’m bringing you in on the ground floor. We’re going to make paradise happen on Earth. link

Bucharest Herald

Shocking: Man barricades his mother inside the house and they both starve to death. link

Christies Paris

The pickled hands of Ernesto “Che” Guerva were sold yesterday to an anonymous Romanian collector at a private Christies’ auction for 6 million Euros. link

Jar

You are a spiritual being having a physical experience. Teilhard de Chardin said that. As a spiritual being, YOU can make miracles happen. Don’t wait for miracles to happen. vid

B_Gossip

Courtesan or Cow, Marilena Murariu’s painting of Elena Ceausescu reclining seductively on a couch surrounded by politicians sold for 1 Million Euros today.

“Lumi – are you going to drink your latte?” John asked with a grin.

Lumi took off her K-9s and smiled. “Da. Da.” She answered.

Grace was sketching the landscape on a white napkin. But she too was thinking of other things.

Grace was thinking about her roommate, Andra. She wondered how Andra was doing back at her apartment on Matei Basarab. Grace rented the apartment with her from Andra’s pimp – a retired prostitute that called herself Amalia.

Andra was a dark haired beauty without a brain. She was a prostitute. Actually, Andra preferred to call what she did, ‘customer service’.

Under “Customer Service”, her ad in the classifieds read:

ANDRA FOTOMODEL,1.68m-45kg 20ani, bruneta superba, sexy si supla, ofer companie intima domnilor generosi si cu bun simnt, la tine acasa sau la hotel, poze 100%reale imi apartin, rog seriozitate maxima.

Grace was glad to be here and not there. Because Andra was a moody, psychotic bitch. She didn’t finish high school. But Andra did have a forged diploma. She didn’t go to college. But Andra had a diploma for that too.

It would suck to sit out this power out with Andra.

Andra, for example, had an annoying way of talking. She was convinced that she spoke like a highly educated and well traveled person. But as much as Andra tried to imitate a successful, insightful and educated person, she lacked both the words and the ideas to sound intelligent.

Just listening to Andra try to talk about anything was too much for Grace – most of the time. On the other hand, Grace preferred Andra to Andra’s regulars.

One of Andra’s regulars was a half Arab- Omar Sulieman. He was the semi-bastard son of the Egyptian Intelligence Chief by the same name. Apparently, the Intelligence Chief had three “unofficial” wives – all with children. A Romanian, a Bulgarian and a Russian. His official wife never had a clue.

Andra’s Omar looked great for 40 something. But he was a pig – not much different from most Arabs that she had met in Bucharest. He’d tease Grace when he came over to the apartment, invite her to join them, and laugh off her refusal and dismay.

As if all women were whores.

Omar knew perfectly well that she was a graphic designer at Olgilvy. Unfortunately, he also knew she barely made enough to pay the rent. Thanks to Andra’s big mouth. Anyway, Grace always refused the invitation to Andra’s constant disappointment.

Grace couldn’t even imagine how anyone could have sex with that pig.

Omar made violent, sadistic grunts when he had sex with Andra. It almost sounded like he was beating her – not like he was having sex with her. Grace even had to buy an airline headset that eliminated background noise to keep her sanity when Omar was with Andra.

Omar…

Omar was a Muslim. He had a Muslim wife and three children. Omar’s wife was the Deputy Economic Attaché at the Syrian Embassy. That’s why Omar always came in the afternoon. He returned faithfully to his family every evening.

He had made a fortune bridging American and Chinese technology companies through his Romanian consulting company. The Chinese would provide stolen hardware technology secrets to American offshore development subsidiaries in Bucharest. These American offshores would reverse engineer embedded software in order for the Chinese to make a killing on the market with a competing product that sold at half the price. It was a win-win for everyone involved. Except the Japanese and Koreans– who weren’t involved. After the 2011 earthquake and tsunami, the Japanese found it hard to stay three steps ahead of their Chinese competition.

Eventually, the Chinese dominated the “smart” market for a wide range of consumer electronics from mobile devices to Super TVs. Sony and Nokia were devastated. Hitachi went bankrupt. And Samsung became a very minor player.

Omar also served as a consultant to the Managing Director of the IMF. What a strange lot they were. Sometimes, Omar would bring the IMF chief over and they would fuck Andra together.

Sick bastards…

Coldplay, Yellow
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………………………………………………..

A Brimstone butterfly fluttered around Grace’s head and caught her attention. She smiled.

“They’re so yellow, it’s like they got sunshine and smiles in their wings,” John said with a smile.

Grace and Lumi giggled like school girls. The butterfly fluttered over to John and perched on his shoulder for a moment and then fluttered away.

Coldplay’s song, Yellow, played in the background.

Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And everything you do,
Yeah they were all yellow…

Their waiter returned with four steaming slices of pecan pie with melting vanilla ice cream. He also carried a stainless steel pitcher of steamy latte refills.

“This is amazing service,” Lumi observed.

“Thanks,” said John.

“I trained them, myself. I was a Starbucks barista in the States.”

“Um… how old are you, John?” Lumi asked.

“18,” he replied with a very big grin.

Lumi’s jaw dropped in surprise. She had thought that he was at least a twenty-something. She suddenly felt old and out of place. She was 32.

“How old is Cristina?” Grace asked.

“25.”

“You act older than your age,” Grace said to John with a warm smile.

John sighed. “Yeah… my road is long.”

Lumi and Grace laughed at him. John didn’t make sense. He was just a baby.

Three Porsches had returned and were waiting in the parking lot. John’s father came over to their table with Hachi on his heels. He asked them if he should send a Porsche back for them.

“I’d like to walk over when we’re finished here,” said John.

“Great idea!” said Lumi, Grace and Max at the same time–Max had just returned to the table.

“God and me too!” John’s Father said. Lumi, Grace and Max chuckled at the statement.

John’s father and Hachi left them and started walking down the road. The drivers were puzzled as they passed John’s father and Hachi on their return trip to the Sanctuary.

When John and the women were done, they started on down the road to Cacica. John started singing the song, Yellow. All three joined him in the song.

Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And all the things you do,
Yeah they were all yellow,

I came along
I wrote a song for you
And everything you do
And it was called yellow

So then I took my turn
Oh what a thing to have done
And it was all yellow

Your skin
Oh yeah your skin and bones
Turn into something beautiful
Do you know you know I love you so
You know I love you so

“You know I love you so…” John said as he entered the bedroom from the bathroom. He had just taken a shower. Cristina smiled from the bed. She gestured for him to join her.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Meanwhile, Lumi was looking for clues to what happened.

Ok. Playing Social Messages from 04 July 2023 from 4:57 am in reverse order.

Bucharest Herald

Woman raped in Congo ‘nearly every minute’ link

B_Gossip

Hot! Hot! Hot! That’s the temperature forecast for the next two weeks. Drink lots of water and sit under an air conditioner. Avoid going outside except for urgent reasons.

Bucharest Herald

Grandmother says the 19 snakes infesting her house were brought by a grandson who wants to make her give up her house. link

WSJ

Gold and Silver is going higher and higher! So why is the Forbes Investor Newsletter shouting SELL! SELL! SELL!? vid

WP

1001 Nights is the name for the superbug that was first identified in Saudi Arabia. It has spread to all continents. Early symptoms: chest pain, stomach pain, diarrhea, headaches, and dizziness. Advanced symptoms: ulcerating black-ish boils across the whole body. link

NASA
More UFOs Sightings?! Join us for our live chat about the annual Perseid Meteor Shower. link

Lumi fell asleep on the balcony of the hotel apartment that she was sharing with Grace and Max. The sounds of chirping birds and the gentle roar of waterfalls swallowed up the bad news and her apprehensions like a whale swallowing a school of fish.

“Mommy! You’re the best mommy in the whole world,” a 10 year old Lumi shouted as she threw her arms around her adopted mother.

“You’re welcome, my little mouse,” her adopted mother answered.

Her mother had just given her a 10 week old, fluffy, white Bijon Frise.

“Milky!” she giggled.

Milky was about the size of a small plush animal. He was anxious to get back into her arms. Tail wagging, Milky tugged at her shoelaces, hoping to get Lumi’s attention.

Lumi loved Milky. She would set him on her desk while she did her homework and he would nap there quietly and patiently waiting for her to take him into her arms for a cuddle.

When Lumi returned from school, she’d hear Milky barking hello to her footsteps from their apartment’s balcony. He’d be waiting for her at the door when she climbed the steps to their third floor apartment.

Milky would be yapping and scratching at the door as she approached the apartment. And when she got in, he would jump as high as he could several times to cover her face with kisses. Not that Milky could ever jump as high as her face, but that didn’t stop him from trying every time.

Those were tough times for Lumi’s adopted mother. Everyone had a job under Ceausescu, but 10 years later in post-communist Romania, people over 35 were practically unemployable, salaries provided a grossly substandard living at best, and prostitution was one of the few opportunities where a woman could get ahead.

But Lumi’s adopted mother always found a way to nourish joy in Lumi’s world – without resorting to prostitution or the black market. There was a chocolate bar and a few pieces of hard candy in Lumi’s school bag every school day. And a dozen kisses before she left for school. In addition to Milky’s kisses, of course.

Lumi had been adopted when she was born. Her adopted mother and father were friends of her natural mother – an art student. A few years after the adoption, her natural mother had responded to a newspaper ad in Libertate. It was an audition for actresses and models to work in Italy. Lumi’s adopted mother had gone with her natural mother to the audition where they were met by two men – an Israeli and an Italian. Her natural mother was given some lines to read and quickly passed the screening to an over-enthusiastic applause. They offered her a contract for 1000 dollars a month. It was like winning the lottery!

What Lumi’s adopted mother never told Lumi was that her natural mother had gone to Italy where she was sold to a mob-related pimp in Milan. She had called once in tears – about a year after she had left. She told everything to her friend- Lumi’s adopted mother. Lumi’s natural mother told her how ashamed she was of what had happened and how she couldn’t come home with nothing.

No one would respect her if she came back to Romania without a fortune. She wasn’t wrong.

A few weeks later, Lumi’s natural mother sent $10,000 by Western Union to her friend. That was a small fortune in Romania for the 90s. In the personal message, she wrote, ‘Take good care of my precious Lumi.’

Five years later, Lumi’s adopted mother would receive another SMS with a Western Union MTCN number. Lumi’s natural mother had sent another $10,000. The money came from Israel. But there was no message.

Her adopted mother never heard from Lumi’s natural mother again. In her heart, she knew her friend was dead.

Half of the money went to pay for Lumi’s extracurricular activities: ballet, karate, piano, singing and English lessons. The other half she used to buy a three room apartment in Unirea which she sold to a Greek playboy for $248,000 in 2006. With that money, she paid for Lumi to go college in the USA: Georgetown University in Washington, D.C.

That’s not to say that Lumi’s adopted mother didn’t put her own money into Lumi. She did. Everything she had. And then some. She loved her little mouse with her whole heart and soul. After her own husband (Lumi’s adopted father) went to Germany to be a construction worker and disappeared, she took on a second job.

Her adopted mother died of cancer a week before Lumi’s college graduation.

She had never told anyone she was sick. Lumi’s neighbors called after the graduation. They had cremated her adopted mother according to the woman’s wishes. They told Lumi how proud her adopted mother was of Lumi. How she talked about Lumi every day. How no one knew her adopted mother was sick until she had collapsed on the stairs. That she had died alone in the hospital with a picture of Lumi at Georgetown University in her hands. With the smile of an unsung hero.

While Lumi was sleeping on the balcony, Max went to bed and Grace went to take a shower.

The bathroom was as big as her rented bedroom back in Bucharest. Maybe, bigger. It was so big there were two chairs, a two-seat sofa and a coffee table – not to mention a marble counter and vanity mirror that could accommodate three women at the same time and each with their own wash basin and faucet.

It’s just like heaven, Grace thought to herself.

The walk-in shower could fit three with elbow room and another two sitting. There were three oversized shower heads, six wall jets, and three handshowers. All in gleaming brushed nickel. The shower tiling was a work of art: one inch square tiles of brushed stainless steel, copper, moldovite, blue glass, mother of pearl, jade and limestone. The tiles were arranged in a fantastic underwater scene of mermaids, mounted sea horses, and giant pearl-bearing shells. There was a granite bench along one wall with carved dolphins for arm rests.

The bathtub was a cross between a shallow pool and a Jacuzzi. It was a meter deep and it could fit four people easily. Above the tub was a skylight, hanging faceted crystal balls, and seashell windchimes.

Grace disrobed and stepped into the shower. She was thin; her ribs, hips, elbows and knees were sharply defined. With a big smile, she turned on the overhead showerheads. Steam filled the room. She had three large bottles of Dr. Bronner’s Organic Magical Liquid Soaps to choose from: Mint, Eucalytpus and Tea Tree. She tried them all.

Three days ago, she was looking in the living room sofa for coins to buy a onesie. A single cigarette. Grace couldn’t afford a pack. If she could pull together a Euro, she’d have enough for a onesie.

One of her roommate’s regulars brought them a bag of Starbuck’s Breakfast Blend coffee beans every week. So coffee wasn’t a problem. Of course, Grace would use a paper towel for a filter.

Andra wouldn’t spend money on household things. If Andra spent money on anything, it was on clothes and handbags. She had a large collection of fake designer bags from Dior to Vuiton. Made in China. 100 Euros a pop. Or three leather hand bags for 250 Euros.

Grace had lived humbly. She owned three pairs of jeans, a dozen tee shirts, a few sweaters, a winter coat, and tennis shoes. She washed her one bra, panties and socks every night. By hand.

Few people could imagine how hard things were for Grace – especially since she worked for Ogilvy, a prestigious advertising agency. She had worked there for 10 years and the last time she got a raise was 6 years ago. Her salary paid her rent for a room, her share of the utilities, and just enough bread, butter, potatoes and cheese puffs to keep her going.

She did important work too. Grace worked on high profile campaigns for Ogilvy’s offices in New York, London, and Paris. She contributed significantly to multi-million dollar campaigns on a monthly basis. But for Oglivy, she was just another low-cost “Indian”.

Little did Ogilvy’s big corporate clients know that Grace was using pirated software and a stolen computer to storyboard their big brand concepts. Her manager had got a good deal on a dozen workstations that had been stolen from HP’s Bucharest office. The irony was that the heist had been an inside job by one of the project managers. Grace guessed that he wasn’t happy with his salary from HP.

Anyway, that’s how karma worked itself out in Bucharest. If you were lucky.

Around noon, concierge attendants brought bottles of water, a fruit basket, a basket of croissants, jams and butter, pastries, cheeses, and salami. Dinner would be at five on the lawn.

On the dinner menu was Caesar salad, Mushroom and Barley Soup, Mushroom and Thyme Pilaf, and Pig roasted on a wood-fire.

One of the young men also explained to Grace that the electric lights would be off tonight, but the air conditioning and hot water would remain available for at least a few days – or until the generator ran out of fuel. But he would be back to their room with candles.

A little later, John’s father showed up with a stack of fresh jeans and traditional shirts decorated with lacework and embroidered flowers around the collars and arms. Grace, Lumi and Max were delighted that the clothes fit perfectly.

The Sanctuary property resembled a fortressed monastery – except three times the size of Voronet. The southern and western wall housed the hotel. The northern wall housed the conference rooms and restaurants. And the eastern wall housed the museum, art gallery, artist’s and employee quarters, and boutique shops. At the center of the complex – where a church would be in a fortressed monastery – was the spa and wellness center and Sanctuary offices.

The spa and wellness center looked like a towering, ancient church. It’s walls were decorated with biblical scenes: Adam and Eve in Eden, David’s triumphant dancing through the streets, Noah’s Ark finding land, The Sermon on the Mount, The victory of Christ over the Anti-Christ, The archangel Michael’s victory over Satan, and the 1000 Years of Christ’s Rule. Around the spa and wellness center was a green lawn, seven pools, three rings of trees and rose bushes. An underground walkway led from the hotel to the spa and wellness center. And also to the underground parking lot.

The Sanctuary was built on a hill just outside Cacica. Around it’s walls were three levels of terraced gardens. Below that was a grove of fruit and other trees that encircled the property. The resort had cost 30 Million Euros to build and it took seven years to complete.

One night in a junior executive suite cost 3000 Euros. And yet the average stay was seven days and nights. It’s clients included a long fan list of C-suite executives, celebrities, aristocrats, oligarchs and other movers and shakers.

Grace, Lumi, and Max had never seen anything like the Sanctuary.

They returned to the lawn around the spa and wellness center where a banquet and tents had been set up. It was like a wedding party. John and Cristina met them with warm smiles and they took their seats at a table in the big tent.

John’s father, stepmother, grandmother and another nine people sat at a table next to theirs. A small orchestra played Romanian folk music while a red cheeked, chubby lady in traditional costume sang about chirping birds and other happy things.

Ok. Playing Social Messages from 04 July 2023 from 4:57 am in reverse order.

Bucharest Herald

You bastards! You finally did it. link

unmarketing

The true sign the apocalypse is near #ApocalypseVille link

B_Gossip

Romania’s National Debt exceeds 100 Billion Euros. IMF Managing Director Zhu Min insists that the Government must give up on state-sponsored health care, subsidized hot water, and subsidized gas.

JimKitzmiller

People of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things. ~ da Vinci

NASA
Think you saw a UFO? We’re getting tens of thousands of mistakenly identified UFOs. Join us for our live chat about the annual Perseid Meteor Shower. link  

terrinakamura

On becoming a realistic optimist. link

Lumi took off her K-9s.

As the food was being served, John’s father gave a toast of thanksgiving.

“We praise and thank the Lord that we are together here among our friends and family. Let us lift up our hearts in thanks.”

“We lift up our hearts in thanks and praise,” replied three men standing at a nearby table with their families. George and Dana were among them.

At the end of the meal, John’s Father stood again to speak. The music stopped.

“As we know, the power is out across the country. The government has enacted a state of emergency and ban on all travel. Truly, we are fortunate to be here.

I have received a report by radio from the French Ambassador – he’s a good friend of mine. Massive riots have broken out throughout Bucharest. It started at the water distribution centers which quickly ran out of bottled water and bread. Angry crowds demanded water and overturned police cars to make their point. Some of those police cars were set on fire.

In return, civilians were fired upon by soldiers including the elderly, women and children.

If you pray, pray for those souls tonight,” John’s father said with difficulty as tears flowed down his cheeks.

Wiping away the tears, he continued :

“The Ambassador also expressed a concern about the Bulgarian nuclear power plants along the Romanian and Bulgarian border. He believed the power outages have effected the plants and they may be unstable at this moment. As a precaution, we are preparing a place in the salt mines where we can hold out if radioactive materials are released into the atmosphere.

We’re also monitoring things here in case there are problems with the nuclear power plants in the Ukraine.”

People whispered apprehensively at their tables.

John’s father waited a few minutes, had a few gulps of water, and then continued:

“This morning, we sent a convoy to the Ukraine to do some shopping. The borders are officially closed. However, our convoy did get across the border and they returned with the supplies. Unfortunately, our people learned that the power is out there too.

We are in God’s hands. The whole world. Let each of us pray for God’s mercy. And pray for this trial to pass quickly.”

Three women at George and Dana’s table began to weep quietly.

“Regarding our comfort at the Sanctuary, we have to turn off the lights to conserve fuel. But we’ll have hot water and air conditioning as long as possible. We’ll be having meals here on the lawn. Breakfast is from 6am to 8am. Lunch is from 12pm to 2 pm. And Dinner, 5pm to 7pm.

Get to town and meet people. Make friends. Get fresh air. If you need something to do, we could use helping hands and strong backs around the farm.

I also highly recommend the wellness and spa center. Although the services are reduced, the mud, salt and hot baths are open. Also our world famous masseuses give the best massages ever! My own favorite is the herbal Thai massage…

And now I would like to introduce you to three community leaders from these parts.”

The three men – who had previously responded outloud to the toast made by John’s father- stood up.

“Zacharia, Eremiah and Daniel. Zacharia is Roman Catholic. Eremiah, a Jehovah’s Witness. And Daniel is Romanian Orthodox. They are leaders within their faith communities and they are community leaders in the Cacica community. I would like them to lead us in the evening prayer.”

Zacharia, Eremiah and Daniel joined hands and took turns giving the prayer:

“Heavenly Father, we thank you for this kingly table you have invited us to enjoy with our families and friends. We thank you for your mighty hand which protects us from the evils that have been unleashed upon the world. We thank you in Jesus’ name for choosing us to serve you in these end times.

Give us courage and wisdom to carry out your will in a broken world. Fill our hearts with justice and mercy. For brother will turn against brother and father against son. Give us strength and fortitude that we may be constant lights through the long, dark night. May we be the salt of the earth so that people do not forget what it means to be human and to love.

Pour forth your Spirit unto us, Lord.

This road is a long road, Lord. Without you, we are a lost tribe. Orphans in the wilderness. Be with us, Lord. Be with us, we pray. Be with us in our troubles. Be with us, Lord. Every day.

Amen.”

It was a long night. Cristina, Grace, Lumi, and Max stayed up late talking about what had happened, what could happen, and the strange words of the evening prayer. They were excited, they were scared, and they wondered what was going on in the world out there.

John had gone on a long walk with Hachi. To think. To pray. To repent. As he was leaving, the girls were listening to The Specials, Pressure Drop.

The Specials, Pressure Drop
………………………………………………..

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The next chapter section (2.2) is [here]. Enjoy!

Your feedback (comment) means much to me.

Stan Faryna
18 May 2011
Bucharest, Romania

Copyright 2011 by Stan Faryna. All Rights Reserved.


One Response to Book of Carrot: Chapter 2.1 by Stan Faryna

  1. Stan Faryna says:

    How about that title?

    Good idea or bad idea? Having a title to these chapter sections – I mean.

    If you have a better title in mind, I’d be glad to consider it.

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