"Crazy Funky Love Child" - A Chronicles of the Children of Destiny Short Story

For other FREE to read stories in the Chronicles of the Children of
Destiny, visit:

http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com


Chronicles of the
Children of Destiny

“Crazy Funky Love Child”

by

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com

© 2009



137,692 HY





‘Jenny you suck.’

‘You wish,’ replied the ravenhaired firey drop of Satan’s precious
love, dressed in scarlet, looking like every man’s most desperate wet
dream.

‘Hey, fuck.  No, I mean, fuck.  I mean you don’t suck.  That’s not
what I meant, bitch.  You always screw what I say.’

Jenny Savereign came over to Kalan Listomore and responded in the way
only Jenny Savereign can, holding his cheeks, and almost kissing him.

‘It is because you are such a wuvvely little boy, Kalan.  I can’t help
but tease anyone as adorable as you,’ she said with the cuteness of a
nymph dryad after a hard nights activities.

Kalan was about to give up, completely frustrated.  She had bedevilled
him again.  For the third time this month his guardian angel duties
towards the Colvin boy had gone awry as Jenny claimed the monthly
prize for the most spiritual fruit in her steward, Rachel Leigh.  You
see the Most High ran contests in these most enlightened times to
ensure his numerous protégés continued their zesty life challenge of
sanctifying the human race.  And when Jenny inevitably brought forth
those special qualities of crazy, funky love which only Jenny
Savereign could, then she used her credits earned in true competitive
fashion to do disaster upon disaster (within legal allowance) upon the
Colvin boy under Kalan’s tutelage.  Oh yes, she was a devil dressed in
red, completely and utterly alike her devastating father of darkness,
the dread Lord Saruviel Savereign, Premiere Archangel of the Realm of
Splendour.



‘I’ll get you, bitch,’ said Kalan with unveiled hostility.

‘When hell freezes over, cowboy.’

‘Cowboy!  What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

‘Oh I was forgetting.  Cowgurrl.  Tee hee.’



Jenny looked up at the scoreboard in the centre for spiritual
sanctification, Canberra division, Tuggeranong Sector.  Only the top
300 angels on points were represented at any one time and she was
numero uno.  Of course Kalan was pretty adroit at his work, all things
considered, and usually cruised in around number 50 or so.  But he was
challenging Jenny’s sovereignty constantly and would do anything to
claim her spot.  Well, almost anything (within legal allowance, that
is).



Jenny turned to Kalan.  ‘Remember, amateur.  To get to number one you
have to be bold.  But you have to also learn all the tricks of the
trade and then a few things or to.  Be original, silly.  God likes
that.  And last but not least, love your steward.  If you don’t love
him you won’t change him.  They never respond otherwise.’

‘Yeh, I know.  Duh, I think I had that figured out.’

‘Perhaps.  Seeya, LOSER!’  And she disappeared, headed for the
nightclub and her usual coven of she-wenches.



*   *   *   *   *



Saruviel Savereign, Premiere Archangel of the Realm of Splendour,
inspected the long blade.  The merchant wanted 12 million credits,
quite a hefty sum.  But for a blade once belonging to his greatest
idol, the Lord Saruviel of the Realm of Eternity, and one of such fine
quality – well was any price really too high.

‘You drive a hard bargain, merchant man.  Surely, sayeth I, your
prices can be devolved to something more utterly reasonable.’

The merchant man was a merchant man because he was indeed skilled at
his trade.

‘But cannot you rightly see the magnificente quality of the blade,
sire.  It would surely cut through light itself when put to the test.’

Savereign looked down the edge of the blade.

‘So you say.’

‘Indeed sire.  Dare I say it, the Most High could not fashioneth such
a blade lest he had studied the fullness of eternity, such being the
skill of the ancient blademaker who forged such perfection.’

‘And who was such a personage,’ inquired Savereign with great
interest.

‘A divine mystery, I am afraid.  Suffice to say the dread Lord
Saruviel held the said individual in great esteem.’

Savereign inspected the blade once more.

‘Surely you ask too much.  But I am well endowed with funds as of
late, so you shall have your paltry sum.  Here,’ he said, handing over
the ‘HEAVENLY VISA’ credit card.



Two hours later, his disaster of a daughter and all her witchlike
crony friends in the main living room of his mansion, Savereign
retired to his upper den to inspect the blade.

‘Indeed it may verily cut through light,’ he thought to himself,
running his thumb down the sharpness of the sword.



Just then his beautiful daughter entered, dressed in something
appropriate for the raping of teenage men to lose their virginity, not
untypical for a Savereign female.



‘Daady.’

But Savereign was still engaged in the idolatrous attention due the
beloved once property of his great object of admiration, the said
Dread Lord Saruviel.

‘Daady.’ She continued.

‘Yes, child.’

‘3 more weeks.  3 more weeks and I graduate.  Up to senior division.
I have done well, haven’t I?’

‘My God this is a good blade,’ he said, continuing his love affair
with the steel of Angelic glory.

‘Oh Daady, I love you,’ she said, hugging her father, who looked down
at her, momentarily puzzled, then cautiously put his arm around her
shoulder, showing her the affection he knew he should as a proud
father of a daughter ready to graduate to senior humans
sanctification.

He came to himself.

‘Remember, daughter of mine.  Adult humans are different.  They get,
how shall I put it, values when they get older.  And they can be quite
stubborn on them.  Your techniques may work well for the younger
audience but I am afraid the traditional approaches of the classical
workers are what usually work best for the older clientele.’

‘Nonsense and poppycott.  People have changed.  Society is different
now.  Trends in human behaviour and valuation of morality demonstrate
that clearly.  You are living in yesteryear, father.  Totally out of
touch.’

‘Be that as it may, you may see some sense in my words quite soon.
Take them or leave them – they are my advice to you.’

She softened, and decided to accept, in true graciousness, his advice.

‘I’ll remember, father.  I’ll remember.’

And she disappeared to her Goth angel friends as her father continued
his adorations.



*   *   *   *   *



John Dawkins was a regular shmo.  But at 28, single, no kids,
unemployed, and just finally getting over a drug addiction, halfway
between a halfway house and a new flat which looked promising, John
was ready for something to happen in his life.  Anything.  And so when
he prayed that prayer one fateful night to God for the first time in
his life, as the rehabilitation officer had suggested he do, The Most
High despatched the decadent mistress of harlotry, Jenny Savereign,
for her first tour of duty in the Senior Sanctification division.  And
the start of a new lease on life began for both of them.



John looked in the cupboards of his new flat.  Empty again.  He had
been here for 3 months now and still hadn’t balanced the budget
properly.  He was going to be hungry for a few days until Centrelink
allowance day again.  Over in the corner, sitting on the floor,
invisible to John, Jenny Savereign looked, finally, defeated.  She had
practically given up her goal on this most stubborn individual.  At
first she had placed within his mind the urge to use charm on people.
To speak kindly and compliment them.  But while, in his newborn
spiritual zeal, which had lasted barely a month, his mind had
considered that, he soon shrugged it off as too much of a bother.



And that was when she began getting the not so subtle hints her father
and others had hinted at.  Adults were different.



After that she tried suggesting this 28 year old virgin flirt with the
girl in the flat next to his, an athletic trim looking 20 year old
with a good job.  She would be perfect for him.  But all his mind
responded to the suggestion was ‘Yeah right.  She is way out of my
league.’  It was by then that Jenny was learning that John Dawkins had
confidence problems.  But more that that – low self esteem.  So she
tried encouraging him and praising him instead, but searching his
memory all she could find was a fourth place in junior athletics when
he was 12.  ‘Gee, it’s hardly worth the effort,’ she began thinking t
o
herself.



It seemed, after that, that no matter what avenue of inspiration she
suggested to try and motivate Dear John, nothing seemed to work.  And
when she said to his mind, ‘What, are you the loser I think you are?’
out of frustration, his mind simply, in a spirit of apathy, said
probably.  It was about then she had given up.  She went to the centre
for spiritual sanctification to ask if someone else could be given her
client, but they went through the formal contract arrangements she had
already signed, a contract necessary for her to finish to gain the
income later on in life necessary for obtaining what she wanted in
heaven, and found it to be watertight.  She could quit, of course, but
then she would never be guaranteed the allowance later on.  And so,
amidst a spirit of frustration, she returned to the Erindale flat and
just moped in the corner, occasionally suggesting to him that he
should do something, anything, to get out of his malaise, but most of
the time just watching the television set which he rarely turned off.
It seemed the once impregnable sanctifier of perfection, the
illustrious Jenny Savereign, had given up.  And it was about then the
Most High took a personal interest in the case.



*   *   *   *   *



She noticed the big guy immediately.  He was hard not to notice.  John
was sitting in front of the box, watching a sitcom, and Jenny was on
the floor, bored, when God floated into the room.  He looked at his
son John and smiled.  ‘JUST LIKE I REMEMBER HIM FROM THE YEARS IN MY
HEART.’

Jenny watched the spirit of God hover around John Dawkins, expecting
something, but all the Father of Glory did was comfort John’s
loneliness.  ‘YOU WILL BE FINE, DEAR CHILD.  YOU ARE LOVED, REMEMBER
THAT.’

And John Dawkins, suddenly feeling better, got up and turned the
television off.

‘I think I’ll go for a walk,’ he said to nobody in particular.

Jenny watched him change his clothes and leave the flat, while the
Spirit remained.  God spoke to Jenny suddenly.

‘WELL ARE YOU JUST GOING TO SIT THERE MISS SAVEREIGN?’

Immediately Jenny took the rebuke and, despite still being frustrated
herself, got up and followed John.  The Spirit of God started
following both of them.



John had his joggers, track pants and a t-shirt on and, fortunately as
far as Jenny was concerned, they almost seemed clean.  John had
decided to walk down to the nearby school oval and do some laps.  He
rarely ran for fitness but knew he was slowly getting fat so should do
something about it.  At the oval there were a couple of guys playing
cricket and his neighbour, the 20 year old girl, doing laps.  He
shrugged to himself, not really expecting anything, but fantasizing
anyway.  But then he remembered she was way out of his league.



After a few laps he came up short, not far from the girl, when Jenny
watched the Spirit come upon him and listened to what God had to say.

‘REMEMBER SHE IS ONLY HUMAN.  A LOT LIKE YOU IN SO MANY WAYS.’

And thinking that, John Dawkins gained some confidence.



Later on that week John and Sheryl had become friends.  He had talked
carefully to her at first, but she hadn’t minded.  She had no
boyfriend presently, but didn’t seem immediately interested in John.
But she seemed to like him as a friend.



In the flat on Saturday Jenny suggested something to John’s mind,
trying to impress God who was hovering around the flat.

‘Try flirting with her.  Girls like that.’

And John instantly got an erection thinking of Sheryl.  But then God
responded and spoke to John.

‘IF YOU REALLY LIKE HER, TRY RESPECTING HER FOR WHO SHE IS.  GIRLS
ADMIRE THAT THE MOST IN THE LONG TERM.’

And John settled, acknowledging the rebuke in his mind.



All that summer Jenny Savereign was learning.  She was learning that
so much that she had learned dealing with the younger audience, on
being cool, hip and happening, really didn’t work that well with
people as they got older.  People had expectations then, all of them
it seemed.  They wanted love, but they also wanted peace of mind and
to do something useful with their lives.  People, it seemed, got more
serious as they started growing up.



And then one day the Spirit of God spoke to her.

‘HAVE YOU LEARNED ANYTHING?’

And Jenny, in a spirit of humility, nodded.



The next afternoon Sheryl was in John’s flat and Jenny said something
to his mind.  ‘Be honest with her John.  Tell her your hopes, dreams
and desires.  But let her know you are only a frail human in the end.’



And John, sensing something spoken to his mind which sounded about
right, shared his hearts dilemmas on life with Sheryl.  It was after
that Sheryl kissed him and they started dating.  Jenny indeed had
begun learning about adults.  About being caring and responsible.  And
about letting go of the childish ways.



*   *   *   *   *



Over the years Jenny Savereign changed.  The nymphomaniac of teenage
years grew up into a lady who started demanding respect rather than
lustful attention.  But she grew in mercy and kindness as well.



Her father, Lord Saruviel Savereign, smiled to himself softly.  He
sensed the Most High at work in his daughter and was happy with that.
He trusted the Lord.  The Lord allowed him to carry on his eccentric
ways, barely ever rebuking him.  Saruviel acknowledged the wisdom of
his eternal father.  God knew everything, he reminded himself.  And as
he watched his daughter grow up from a child of the devil into a
daughter of God he himself also began to more greatly appreciate the
ways of the divine.



*   *   *   *   *



Kalan sat on the bench.  He was upset.  For so long, in adult
sanctification division, he had been number one.  He had laughed when
Jenny first joined the adults and had failed miserably.  With the
younger audience he himself had always taken the more mature approach,
but had eventually yielded to Jenny’s crazy, funky love to try and win
the youth.  But when he had graduated to adult’s division he had gone
back to his traditional ways and had great success.  He ended up
praying for Jenny to get it together, but now, after John Dawkins had
become a Member of Parliament, Jenny Savereign was getting all the
praise.  And she had finally taken him, again, at number one.



He sat on the bench, outside of the centre for sanctification, looking
up at the sky, when Jenny came up to him.

‘This crazy funky life has taught me a lot, Kalan Listomore.  But one
thing I have learned is this.  We all learn from each other and all
good things take some time.’  And then she kissed him on the cheek,
told him he was luvverly with her cute little voice, and disappeared
up the path.  And then Kalan started laughing.







THE END



For other FREE to read stories in the Chronicles of the Children of
Destiny, visit:

http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com
[ Auf dieses Posting antworten ]