Time Trap by David Staves

Author:David Staves [Staves, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781733345101
Published: 2019-08-09T22:00:00+00:00

Church

Sanctuary

Ezra got a little scraped up when the buffeting wind from the wasp's wings knocked him down, but he got right up and started pursuing it. It reminded him of a fighter jet as it burst into the air, climbing so high it looked like a tiny dot on the purple-gray clouds above. In his pursuit, he almost missed the road. His feet hit the hard asphalt, old and cracked, pockmarked by tall, dry brush and pot-holes. He wouldn't have seen it if it hadn't been right under his feet.

He knew it! This road would lead him to safety and food!

"Thank you!" he said, looking up to the spot where the wasp had disappeared on the mottled sky.

His body protested with aches and pains beyond his twelve years. His mind, having encountered another living being, one possessing vibrancy and intelligence, was sparked with excitement that bordered on hope.

Maybe it will come back. Ezra looked back over his shoulder at the darkness of the forest. He quickened his pace, trying not to think of the demon-thing.

He still carried his smile, a gift from the wondrous wasp when he saw the cross.

In the distance, it peeked over the next rise in the road, the tip top part of a steeple.

Warmth ignited in his chest. The cross: symbol of power and hope, protection, and security. He heard the voice of Quasimodo, and for the first time, understood the power of the word he spoke: Sanctuary!

He remembered the manger. The son of God hung on a cross. This was a sign! It was an answer to his desperate plea for help.

This evil, this vile thing that was chasing him, had been defeated before! It was a demon, a devil made of putrid flesh. The cross called to him. It said: Come rest! Be safe here! The humble road led onward. The blossom of hope took root in his quickening heart.

In his mind's eye, he saw the demon cowering, at the sight of the cross, like Dracula. His muck covered frame was sparked again to move forward. An exciting thrill spurred him.

A sound rolled through the chilled mist. His young ears strained to understand it. An old church organ: muffled chords fought their way through the oppressive atmosphere of this broken land.

"Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me!" his feet took him closer and closer, and the voices lifted higher and higher. People! He found people! It seemed impossible!

Safety ahead, he thought. He lost sight of the cross behind the sickly trees but regained it as the busted-up road rolled past the stoop of the old church. It was modest, white-washed, crowned by a high steeple bearing the symbol of power. He approached the double doors and heard the unmistakable voices singing the old hymn:

"… saved a wretch like me."

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