It is very rare for me to allow anyone to read even one page of a novel I am working on before the entire store is done and been through several edits (except for my hubby). Yet, I feel like I would like to share the prologue from the novel I was working on in 2014 titled "And the Two Shall Become One" (not finished yet, but I have finished writing 3 other novels since then). Keep in mind that the details are not exact. Such as, I don't remember the exact name of the lake where my story occurred. And I have been told two different versions of the same story, but this is my memory. This novel is going to be fictional accounts mixed with factual ones. What is very true is that Mel (Paul) & I (Elizabeth) were both... Well, you'll see.
Prologue :When
you Pass Through the Waters
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you.” Isaiah 43:2
The
summer of 1970 was his best year so far.
At just five years old, Paul knew this would always be one of his favorite
vacation memories. His family had left
Kansas City, MO in their Coachmen motorhome a week ago to see the countryside. The ultimate goal was to see Mt. Rushmore and
Yellowstone National Park.
Mt.
Rushmore had been such a mesmerizing site he knew would never forget it. He may have already forgotten which president
was which, but the view of four large faces carved into the side of a mountain
would always be a cherished image. Tomorrow they would see Yellowstone! He was so excited he bounded out the doors of
the motorhome as they stopped for lunch.
Paul
asked his parents if he could play on the swings while the adults prepared the
meal. His father looked around, saw all
was safe, and told his young son not to be too long as lunch would be ready
soon.
The
little brown-haired, blue-eyed boy with a big grin accompanied by dimples
thanked his dad and trotted off toward the swings. He carried his red fire engine in his little
hands. He loved the yellow ladder on the
back that moved up and down. He often
wished the truck was bigger or he was smaller so he could climb the ladder.
If
the weeds growing behind the swings had not been so high, Paul’s father would
have seen the swift-moving canal and never would have allowed the precious son
of his old age to play near such a death trap.
Paul
spotted a cement culvert and decided this was much more interesting than your
every-day swing set. He climbed aboard
a pipe, but was off-balance as he still clutched his fire truck. Trying to catch his balance, the plastic engine
slipped from his tiny hands. Without
hesitation, Paul leaned down from atop the pipe to grab for his favorite
toy. He landed head first into the
rapidly moving water of the canal. He
was in over his head and could not yet swim.
The current was pulling him under toward the pipe.
It
was strange, he realized, that he could breathe. It was as if an invisible pocket of air had
been placed around his nose and mouth and gave him aid.
Let yourself go into
the pipe, and you will be able to get out.
Paul
was not sure where the voice had come from, but it had an unholy echo to it,
and something inside him hesitated to trust the advice. Yet, he knew he had to act soon.
Just
as soon as he moved closer to the opening in the underwater pipe, a different Voice
spoke. This one sounded like silky honey.
Paul, look up! I am going to save you!
There
was something more familiar in the second Voice.
Something safe.
Just
as Paul felt himself being sucked into the pipe, he looked up and two strong
hands grabbed his wrists.
They pulled until Paul was safely back on dry ground. He looked around. Who had saved him? There was no one to be seen in any
direction. The only sight before his
eyes was his family’s motorhome.
There
was no mistaking what had just occurred.
He excitedly ran back to the large vehicle.
“What
happened?” his mother cried as she saw her beloved son standing before her
drenched from head to toe.
Paul’s
face beamed and his eyes glowed as he declared, “Jesus saved me!”
“What
do you mean?”
“Jesus
pulled me out of the water.”
There
was no question in his parents’ eyes as they embraced their boy. Young Paul had a calling on his life and
Jesus had indeed saved their son from death.
*********************************************************************
To look at the small child with
platinum blonde hair and big blue eyes, one would assume she was three or
possibly four. They never would have
guessed Elizabeth was just two months away from celebrating her sixth
birthday. Yet, her petite stature never
hindered Elizabeth from trying to keep up with the bigger kids. She was adventurous and hated being
under-estimated.
This particular hot July day in 1978
was no exception. The tiny five-year-old
raced behind her cousins and older sister as the group went splashing into Seneca
Lake in New York. It was the perfect day
for a swim at their annual family reunion.
All the aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents were there.
Elizabeth giggled as her older
cousin Jennifer tossed her a bright rainbow colored beach ball.
The ball slipped through her small fingers and she decided to chase
after it.
The sun stung her sensitive eyes,
bouncing off the shiny water and making it difficult for her to see. She blinked as her vision blurred and she
knew something was not right. She no
longer felt sand beneath her bare feet.
She kicked at the nothingness and felt herself sinking.
Elizabeth’s swimming skills were
barely passable and she was not strong enough to fight the water pulling her
down. As her head went under, she saw
her mother and father on the beach. They
were talking. Everyone was talking. No one was watching. They all assumed the older kids would look
after the younger ones.
Something terrible was happening and
Elizabeth knew she should fight, but her immature mind could not quite grasp
the seriousness of the situation.
It
happened so fast! She sank below into
the clear blueness. She bobbed back up
for a quick gasp of air. No time to
scream. Yet, she felt no need to scream. She felt peace. She felt calm. She felt two strong arms grab a hold of her
and carry her high into the air. The man
was so large she felt as if a tree was carrying her.
There
was no tightness in her lungs. No
panic. No fear. There were none of the usual symptoms associated
with a typical near-drowning experience.
Elizabeth felt safe in the stranger’s arms as he gently laid her on a plastic beach chair. She looked up into his
face. He had shoulder-length blonde hair,
no, make that gold hair and kind
eyes. She squinted as the sun shining
from his face blinded her just as the sun reflecting off the water had done moments
ago.
Suddenly
family surrounded Elizabeth as they now realized what had occurred and that
they had almost lost the little girl.
Elizabeth
turned to the stranger, but he was gone.
“Who
was the man that saved my daughter?”
Elizabeth’s mother cried, “I want to thank him.”
Yet,
no one could answer. It was as if the
tall man had come from nowhere just to rescue Elizabeth and just as
mysteriously disappeared.
As
Elizabeth’s mother wrapped the child in a towel, the tiny girl could see the
concern mixed with confusion in the adults’ eyes staring at her.
“I’m
okay,” Elizabeth reassured them, “The angel saved me.”
And
then she fell into a peaceful sleep.
