language? Yes. My speech is one with my actions. I give reverence to what I do, and that is making the bread.”
“So, you are speaking what you are doing?”
“Yes! But it is so much more than that. Shall I try to speak the reverence in your tongue?”
Cain let out a relieved breath. “Yes. You have no idea how unsatisfying it can be to listen to a language that you don’t know.”
Al’bah laughed and kissed Cain deeply. She stood up, returning to the dough mixture. “I shall start from the beginning.” She held up her hands above the flour bag as she had done in the beginning. “I give reverence to the ground that was broken to accept the seed. To the seed that was broken to spring forth new life, and to the plant that bore the wheat.”
Al’bah reached into the bag and retrieved some flour. “I give reverence to the wheat that was broken into dust.” She mixed the flour in a bowl and held out an egg. “I give reverence to the egg that is broken to Bind my efforts and the water that blends parts that are many, to become one. I give reverence to the salt of the Earth.” Al’bah kneaded the dough with strong motions and added a packet of ready-rise yeast to the mixture. “And life, that ultimately returns to dust.”
Cain nodded. “Thanks for sharing that with me,” he said, trying not to smile.
She smiled at him with a knowing look and opened the oven. Al’bah sighed, taking the small loaves out of the oven that baked faster than a single loaf could. “Bread, so essential to a meal. Every meal.” She whispered to the fragrant loaves with her eyes closed.
“Why baked bread?” Cain asked. “I have sliced bread, you know.”
Al’bah opened her eyes and looked at the package that Cain mentioned. She took one of the slices from it and tested its heft and scent, and at last, she touched her tongue to it. “Foul!” Al’bah cried as she tossed the slice to Cain. “That, whatever that is, is not bread. I can smell and I can taste mold, rot, unnatural substances, and all manner of filth all over it. I sure hope you have not been eating that.”
”Um, not really,” Cain said while he threw away the loaf which looked perfectly good. Even the expiration date was still a week away.
“Disgusting,” Al’bah said, shaking her head. “I know that it may look well, but it is a deception of sorts. Here, try this.” She set the bread down and broke off a piece from her first batch that was baked with the roast. “Bread, broken to nourish. To give life. From the life that was given to the Earth by the Creator,” she said and fed it to Cain.
“Delicious, yes?”
Cain grinned at Al’bah’s happy face as he chewed.
It was.
Chapter 13
Setting the Trap
“Justice is all I care about.”
—Stella Fullson
“Mister Stratton, what can I do for you?”
“Chief Turnovits,” Walter acknowledged, taking his hand in a firm shake. “It has been a while since we have seen each other.” He sighed and looked around the sumptuous office that still could appear so Spartan and all business. A simple wood desk acquired at Goodwill with matching chairs bought on his own payroll, recycled carpet donated from the country club. And most impressive was his small personal library, again purchased on his own. “Last time we met, you were a captain. Now look at you, chief of police.”
Chief Turnovits shrugged, but his bearing spoke volumes of being nervous. His glance jittered between the window and the door. “Yes, well, my promotion was years ago. I recall you being there, actually.”
Walter nodded and gestured to the chair opposite his desk. “But I didn’t get the chance to congratulate you. May I?”
“Of course, where are my manners? Please, sit.”
Walter sat down and pulled out a hastily drawn portrait. “Do you know this woman? I believe she is in this precinct.”
“Yeah, I know this one. She’s a rookie named Stella Fullson.”
Walter grinned, blessing yet another of
“So, you are speaking what you are doing?”
“Yes! But it is so much more than that. Shall I try to speak the reverence in your tongue?”
Cain let out a relieved breath. “Yes. You have no idea how unsatisfying it can be to listen to a language that you don’t know.”
Al’bah laughed and kissed Cain deeply. She stood up, returning to the dough mixture. “I shall start from the beginning.” She held up her hands above the flour bag as she had done in the beginning. “I give reverence to the ground that was broken to accept the seed. To the seed that was broken to spring forth new life, and to the plant that bore the wheat.”
Al’bah reached into the bag and retrieved some flour. “I give reverence to the wheat that was broken into dust.” She mixed the flour in a bowl and held out an egg. “I give reverence to the egg that is broken to Bind my efforts and the water that blends parts that are many, to become one. I give reverence to the salt of the Earth.” Al’bah kneaded the dough with strong motions and added a packet of ready-rise yeast to the mixture. “And life, that ultimately returns to dust.”
Cain nodded. “Thanks for sharing that with me,” he said, trying not to smile.
She smiled at him with a knowing look and opened the oven. Al’bah sighed, taking the small loaves out of the oven that baked faster than a single loaf could. “Bread, so essential to a meal. Every meal.” She whispered to the fragrant loaves with her eyes closed.
“Why baked bread?” Cain asked. “I have sliced bread, you know.”
Al’bah opened her eyes and looked at the package that Cain mentioned. She took one of the slices from it and tested its heft and scent, and at last, she touched her tongue to it. “Foul!” Al’bah cried as she tossed the slice to Cain. “That, whatever that is, is not bread. I can smell and I can taste mold, rot, unnatural substances, and all manner of filth all over it. I sure hope you have not been eating that.”
”Um, not really,” Cain said while he threw away the loaf which looked perfectly good. Even the expiration date was still a week away.
“Disgusting,” Al’bah said, shaking her head. “I know that it may look well, but it is a deception of sorts. Here, try this.” She set the bread down and broke off a piece from her first batch that was baked with the roast. “Bread, broken to nourish. To give life. From the life that was given to the Earth by the Creator,” she said and fed it to Cain.
“Delicious, yes?”
Cain grinned at Al’bah’s happy face as he chewed.
It was.
Chapter 13
Setting the Trap
“Justice is all I care about.”
—Stella Fullson
“Mister Stratton, what can I do for you?”
“Chief Turnovits,” Walter acknowledged, taking his hand in a firm shake. “It has been a while since we have seen each other.” He sighed and looked around the sumptuous office that still could appear so Spartan and all business. A simple wood desk acquired at Goodwill with matching chairs bought on his own payroll, recycled carpet donated from the country club. And most impressive was his small personal library, again purchased on his own. “Last time we met, you were a captain. Now look at you, chief of police.”
Chief Turnovits shrugged, but his bearing spoke volumes of being nervous. His glance jittered between the window and the door. “Yes, well, my promotion was years ago. I recall you being there, actually.”
Walter nodded and gestured to the chair opposite his desk. “But I didn’t get the chance to congratulate you. May I?”
“Of course, where are my manners? Please, sit.”
Walter sat down and pulled out a hastily drawn portrait. “Do you know this woman? I believe she is in this precinct.”
“Yeah, I know this one. She’s a rookie named Stella Fullson.”
Walter grinned, blessing yet another of
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