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Lucinda Bilya
Lucinda Bilya
Category:
Family
Publisher: Independent
ISBN-10: 1484837371
Type: Fiction
Pages: 266
Copyright: 2011
ISBN-13: 9781484837375
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
Breaking the family traditions of domestic violence, two brothers find humor their best weapon to beat the dragon.
Make-believe worlds are magic that no wizard can master. Sam and Mark, brothers with a pact never to follow the footsteps of anger in the name of love, form an unbreakable bond that binds an entire community together. Many times, their pact is tested with troubles and mishaps, yet they never waiver in their pursuit in beating the dragons of domestic violence. Laughter becomes their most useful weapon forming a bond that is contagious and sometimes hilarious. The make-believe world of Santan Fortress is enduring as much as it is endearing.
Excerpt
“Mommy, can we be excused?” Philip put his fork on his empty plate.
“Sure, sweetie,” Jen answered. “It is nice outside. You boys go outside to play until dessert is ready. John, you watch Philip.”
“Ah, mom,” John started to protest because they couldn’t run as fast with Philip tagging along.
“John,” was all Mark needed to say.
“Yes, sir,” John answered his father, and then stabbed the last meatball on the platter and put the whole thing in his mouth.
“Hey, I wanted that,” Alex protested.
“Ha ha, I got the last meatball,” John said with his mouth full.
Snatching the last piece of garlic bread, which was the end piece, Alex bragged, “And I got the last toast.”
Sam watched the scene unfold as if it were moving in slow motion as Alex grabbed the last piece of garlic toast, and ran from the dining room. Sam looked at Mark who also was watching their sons re-enact a scene from long ago, back when they were young.
“Santan!” Sam announced as he stood up.
“Santan!” Mark stood with his tea glass in salute.
Sam clinked his glass with Mark’s in answer and then drank it.
An eerie silence filled the dining room where all movement ceased after the boys went outside into the back yard letting the screen door slam on their way out. An aroma of garlic and spaghetti lingered throughout the house while Sam and Mark remembered the years when they were boys themselves…
* * * *
“Mom, Sam took the last meatball,” Mark whined.
“You had plenty. Run along outside to play until bed time.”
Mark took the last piece of garlic toast, jumped up from the table, and ran while sticking his tongue out at Sam. As soon as they reached their bikes, they entered another world where rusted bikes became gallant horses; sweaters were suits of shining armor, and witches and dragons waited behind every tree or bush.
Chasing blue snakes and winged blood-sucking vermin through haunted forests, they galloped into a land of dragons and witches where fiery sunsets in the distance were villages burning from the ravaging of a Fire Dragon. Nighttime was a curse cast by evil witches causing the world to live in darkness and gloom until brave warriors fought off the dragons and the witches.
Each night, a curse of darkness made them retreat with promises to fight another day. Daylight always ran out before they could save the planet forcing them to retreat inside the Mother Ship. While inside, they continued fighting evil forces of deep outer space where all visitors were possible invasions by Troids.
“Summer is almost over,” Sam swung his stick-sword at a leaf as it fell from the tree.
“Do you have to do that?” Mark complained.
“Do what?”
“Rain on the parade.”
“Shok! Listen! I hear the night witch. Cover your ears or her voice will transform you into a poisonous frog,” Sam yelled to Mark.
“It is too late, Teman! I feel my body transforming already. Aieeeee!” Mark pretended to be in great pain and take on a froglike appearance.
“Mark! Sam! I know you hear me!” yelled the night witch.
“Run, Teman, run for your life. It is too late for me and I feel I must bite you now. Run while you can,” Mark begged while acting as if he was going to bite him with poisonous fangs.
“Now!” echoed a baritone voice through the woods.
“Uh oh,” whispered Mark.
“Yeah, come on. We better go. We can get that dragon tomorrow,” Sam promised.
“I wished dad would help us make our fort. It keeps falling down,” Mark said as they abandoned their fort of sticks around a large oak tree for another day.
“You remember the last time dad helped us do anything?” Sam said as he started running because if Dad already left his recliner to call them inside, they had best run.
In the distance, they saw Dad standing on the back porch with his pipe clinched between his teeth. The look on his face meant they had best hurry a little faster, which they did. As they stepped up onto the porch, they tried to slip past him quickly to avoid his wrath, but they were never fast enough.
“Next time your ma calls you two, you had best come running,” he growled as he smacked them on the back of their heads almost knocking Mark down.
Going straight to the bathroom to wash up and brush their teeth, they avoided talking because of what normally happens when anything interrupts Dad’s television viewing. As they dried their face and hands, they heard him cussing at Mom in the kitchen, and then they heard glass breaking. Hurrying to avoid becoming the target of his anger, they slipped into their beds and pretended to be fast asleep. However, they listened to his footsteps pounding down the hallway making their hearts race with fear. He cussed as he banged the door open, but they didn’t move a muscle.
“When I get home tomorrow, I better not see one leaf in that yard. I know you are awake, and you hear me. You think I am that stupid?”
Dad slammed the door so hard, it rattled the pictures on the wall causing one of them to fall off. Sam sat upright and reached for the framed picture as it slid down the wall. Catching the picture, he laid back down while tucking the picture under the covers with him. Two seconds later, the door jerked open again banging the doorknob into the wall. Silence. Deafening silence, but Mark started laughing. Burying his face in his pillow to muffle his giggling, he sounded like he was crying instead.
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