Chapters

Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 2 © 2021 by Amber Wright THE TRAVELER Andronika was a harlot . The very word sent a nauseating feeling through Junia. No, not Andronika—she must have been killed and her murderer must have left that note. My Fil’os was never bad! She was only poor, but not bad . She heard Martha continue in a broken voice. “ I’ve lost her…and now it’s all my fault. We had little money and little to eat. I had to work long hours. I neglected her…” “ It’s not your fault.” Junia heard herself speaking softly. “We should have helped—if only we had known. She would not have done this if we had.” “ We like to work for our keep. Our family always has. It makes us feel disgraced to beg, but oh—now is the worst disgrace! I should have begged. I should have asked for her .” Martha ended her woeful tale in a wail, kneeling onto the ground with her hands covering her face. Junia started to reach out to comfort the woman but felt frozen in place, her knees locked, her ...

  Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 1 © 2021 by Amber Wright AUTUMN, A.D. 93 Roman Province of Lydia. Fifteen year-old Junia Gaius heard the old crippled man at the gate playing his pipes before she saw him. His bony, tanned, weathered fingers danced along as his melody transposed the cool morning air into music. She paused, taking in his beautifully soft music, and the air gently blew against her darkly tanned face. If only every day was like this one, the world would indeed be a better place to live in. To dream in. To believe in. To do something in. But she was just a girl, a tiny pebble on the beach called life. What good could she do? Through the years, through her dreams, she traveled far. She imagined herself far away…beyond those Lydian mountains peaking in the distance, past the meadows filled with ripening crops, downstream the bubbling Cayster River. Somewhere where she had never been before. If she could only manage to marry a rich man or perhaps a merchant ...

  Angel of Okinawa; Chapter 9 © 2024 by Amber Wright “Do you ever work or do you just sit in that uniform all day doing nothing?” I asked Derek for there he was on our back porch asking if he could come in for some orange punch. “My orders are still unclear,” Derek told me evasively. “Pretty please?” Supper was nearly ready and I had a little feeling inside that Derek wanted real food, not just the Army canned he normally ate. “Alright,” I opened the door with a little jerk. “Come in.” “Thanks.” Derek messed with his sweaty hair while I shut the door behind him. “And yes,” I frowned up at him, “supper is practically ready. But you have to help if you want to eat some of it.” “Sure. Like what?” Derek said eagerly, and I silently groaned. Once this occupation’s over, Angel, I told myself fiercely, he’s gone for good. So don’t get too attached. I strained a smile. “Help me stir up the punch and act perfectly polite when you have to sit on a cushion to eat...

  Angel of Okinawa; Chapter 8 © 2024 by Amber Wright I began my heroic deed by penning my two milk goats with our one and only goat. Rosy took to the new milk goats with friendly goatliness and bleated a hello, chewing on her grass. I took a deep breath and fiddled with the rope, watching the three goats become friends. Derek stood beside me, swinging his rope as well. I guess we were two pretty fidgety people, I realized. Too much alike. “Well, I name you Posy,” I pointed to the right goat nosing around the pen with a flower in its mouth. “And you,” I told the goat standing there staring like a blank wall, “Dozy.” “Nice names.” Derek gave his rope a ferocious swing before handing it over to me. It took me a few seconds to comprehend. My head was still floating in the clouds. “The rope, ma'am!” Derek had the biggest grin on his tanned face. “I name you Dozy Rosy Posy.” “Why?” I sent him a glare, rolling my eyes. Derek shrugged, “Or I'll call you my Ve...

  Angel of Okinawa; Chapter 7 © 2024 by Amber Wright I lay awake on my pallet that night. What great thing did I need to do by taking my very first step tomorrow? True, I had always wanted to do some heroic deed like my history books talked about, but what did I really want to do? Or—rather—what did I really need to do? As if a bolt of lightning struck me, I found the words of a Proverb entering my mind. He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the LORD. I sucked in my breath, startled. Already our porch had been loaded up with wounded American soldiers and I had only peeked out of a window to see a man with a shattered leg and remembered saying, “Poor man.” If I was to be a hero, I must act like one. It might not be such a great thing to help one wounded invader, but it would be the first step to heroic greatness. I smiled in the darkness, and stretched my arms high above my head on my pillow. I knew exactly what I would do the next morning. · · ...

  Angel of Okinawa; Chapter 6 © 2024 by Amber Wright “Thanks, Angel.” Derek gripped my hand, staring at me as if lost in thought. “For what?” I was even more confused. I hadn’t really planned on taking thanks for showing him the way. He wasn’t welcome in the least for that. I pulled back my hand. “For saving my life.” Derek picked a palm leaf off its branch and twisted it absently. I shrugged. “Probably saved my own, too.” “Why’s that?” Derek turned back to stare at me, sweat trickling down his tanned forehead. I looked away and squinted my eyes in the bright sunlight. “The soldiers might’ve shot me for spy—me being American and all—showing an American the shortcut and secret route to the airport.” I took a deep breath, thankful no natives were around to hear me. I started walking again. Derek grabbed my elbow and faced me with a gaping stare. “You’re American?” “Yes.” Suddenly I felt like I was floating. Stop it, Angel! I stepped around him and led...