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Jonah Prologue Part Two

Happy Thanksgiving folks!


As promised here is the second part of the prologue for the upcoming Jonah book.  In this section we introduce the other two main players in the book.  I hope you enjoy and know that I am so thankful that I have you all to encourage me and give me feedback.  You can reread part one here.

*****

            The town of Khorsabad was located on the outskirts of the Nineveh province.  It was a rural town that once held a mighty fortress.  The town was in the midst of rebirth.  One could see new construction alongside of four hundred year old homes.  It was a town of transition with a population that was ever fluctuating.  The staple of the town, fishing, had been dwindling ever since several factories were built to the north, but the factory did bring several jobs, which was why the town was growing for the first time in a generation.  Along the western side of the town ran the Tigress River.  Among the docks the traditional Sunday bazaar had sprung up. The Tigress on the West, the main road to the East, an old cannery on the North side, and funeral home to the South framed the marketplace.  It was a snapshot of days gone by where the town came together to peddle their wares.
            The occasional cloud passed, shrouding the marketplace in shade.  The shade, in conjunction with the soft breeze off the Tigress, created a very pleasant atmosphere.  The murmur of masses of people each trying to get the best deal melded together to a drone, broken by an occasional call for fresh fish.  Aromas wafted toward the road where a white town car was parked.
            If you had to describe Thom Trinneer in one word it would be charismatic.  Nearly everyone who spent time with him came to respect him, even if they disagreed with his ideals.   The second word to describe him would be hard.  Standing at six foot three he towered over most anyone around him.  He was also covered in rippling muscle, not the type of bodybuilders, but lean, tough muscle that made him substantially stronger that he appeared.
Thom stepped into the bazaar wearing a smile.  He methodically moved from stand to stand, always giving a kind word of encouragement or checking on the shopkeepers loved ones.  He waved at the loud-voiced Michael who ran a fish stand before he greeted Cecilia who was the proprietor of a handcrafted furniture stand.  After spending a brief time visiting, he would move on to the next stand.  He would carefully listen to the people’s problems and always seemed to be able to find the best outcome for whoever was involved.  While not exactly a pillar of the community, his business, the funeral home, had been passed down through his family for seven generations.  He was known for helping people through some of the roughest moments in their lives and the Trinneer’s were known to go above what was required. 
            As Thom made his way through the bazaar he spotted Mark.  Mark stood tall as he moved from stand to stand in much the same way Thom did, but he was not visiting the shopkeepers, he was working.  Mark had recently taken a job with NPD, the Nineveh Peacekeeping Department.   Thom could feel his blood pressure rising as he looked upon this once free man.   Thom understood and couldn’t blame Mark for taking this job.  Mark had a wife and three children to provide for and fishing, unfortunately, could not do that anymore.  A man must take care of his family and the stability of a government job was certainly appealing, but the site of Mark with his riot vest, helmet, and retractable baton caused Thom to feel sorrow… and frustration.  Mark was no longer free.  He now relied on Governor Micah for his livelihood, and worked as the governor’s personal army.  The NPD used to stand for justice.  They used to defend the week, but position by position, Governor Micah had replaced a majority of the leadership with his own people.  Now the NPD was like a fishing boat with no nets, unable to fulfill its true purpose.  It had become so riddled with corruption that the NPD appears to now do nothing but suppress and batter the population.  Thom would do anything to allow his neighbors to be free of the tyranny of the governor.
With a sigh, Thom turned around to avoid Mark and made his way toward the funeral home as a group of children came running to him.
            “Is that you James,” Thom inquired, “You must have grown half a foot since I’ve seen you last.”
            The young boy at the head of the group gave Thom a lopsided smile, “Yes, sir, Mr. Thom.  Are you going to be staying in the village long?”
            “Not too long, son.  I am here on business and business always keeps me moving.” 
James’ smile faded with an “Oh”
            Thom could see that something was bothering James.  He turned to Stuart, the second oldest of the crew.  “Stuart I have a job for you.  Do you think you young men could help me?”  Thom continued as Stuart gave an enthusiastic nod.  “Mrs. Cecilia hasn’t been able to sell much from her booth lately, and I have had an eye on one of the coffee tables she was trying to sell.  I need you boys to go buy it for me and deliver it to my car.”  Thom handed Stuart a wad of bills.  The boy’s eyes bulged when Thom leaned in and with a wink added; “there is also old Gideon’s sweet shop around the corner from Cecilia’s where you and the rest of your crew can use the extra.”
            As James and the rest started to go Thom grabbed James’ arm.  “What’s wrong James,” Thom asked firmly.
            The boy shuffled his feet and wouldn’t make eye contact.  He muttered.
            “You will need to speak up James.  What’s wrong? “
            “Is it true that you help people even when the NPD won’t, Mr. Thom.”  The boy’s eyes were large with hope and fear. 
James hoped that he had heard correctly.
James was afraid that he had heard correctly.
“I do what I can for those that can’t, son.  What’s wrong, James?”
The child told Thom what no child should know.  His sister had come home earlier that week beaten and bloodied.  His mother wouldn't say what happened, but James knew that his sister had been hit repeatedly and he knew there was nothing they could do about it.
“She said she tried to break up with him, but he wont let her,” tears welled in his eyes and his voice shook with emotion.  “He is the chief’s son, Thom, and a lieutenant in the peacekeepers.  She would not even let us take her to the hospital because she would have to report it.”
Thom could handle most anything life threw at him, but instances like this could break through his tough exterior.  He could not handle the suffering of innocents.  Rage threatened to burst from Thom like fish trying to escape a net.  He did his best to keep it out of his voice. “What’s his name, James?”
“Amos Anderson, sir, but I’ve heard his friends call him the Pike.”
Confirmation…
Thom forced a smile.  Ruffling the boy’s hair he said with fake cheer, “Don’t worry James.  He won’t bother your sister anymore.”
Thom was almost rocked back a step when the boy took a flying leap toward him, wrapping his arms around Thom’s substantial build.

*****

            Micah had been at this for a long time.  Decades of effort and what dis he have to show for it.  Power and fortune mean nothing in the face of eternity.  How could this all be so pointless he pondered.  He looked out the window of his penthouse at the ants on the ground and felt nothing but sorrow.
            For himself.
And to top it all off his migraines had been getting worse.

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