Things of the Flesh: Book 2 of the Paul Jakarta Chronicles

Copyright © 2013 P.A. Pursley.

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ISBN: 978-1-4908-1652-4 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-1653-1 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013921022

WestBow Press rev. date: 11/21/2013

Contents

Chapter One       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Two       King Ulfheoinn

Chapter Three       Alex Jernigan

Chapter Four       Beast Ulfheoinn

Chapter Five       King Ulfheoinn

Chapter Six       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Seven       Benjamin Parker

Chapter Eight       Benjamin Parker

Chapter Nine       Jayden Roberts

Chapter Ten       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Eleven       Benjamin Parker

Chapter Twelve       Jayden Roberts

Chapter Thirteen       James and Joyce Rose

Chapter Fourteen       Detective William Joseph Hawkins

Chapter Fifteen       Benjamin Parker

Chapter Sixteen       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Seventeen       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Eighteen       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Nineteen       Jayden Roberts

Chapter Twenty       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Twenty-One       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Twenty-Two       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Twenty-Three       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Twenty-Four       Benjamin Parker

Chapter Twenty-Five       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Twenty-Six       Jayden Roberts

Chapter Twenty-Seven       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Twenty-Eight       Alex Jernigan

Chapter Twenty-Nine       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Thirty       Detective William Joseph Hawkins

Chapter Thirty-One       Jayden Roberts

Chapter Thirty-Two       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Thirty-Three       Benjamin Parker

Chapter Thirty-Four       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Thirty-Five       Benjamin Parker

Chapter Thirty-Six       Alex Jernigan

Chapter Thirty-Seven       Alex Jernigan

Chapter Thirty-Eight       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Thirty-Nine       Benjamin Parker

Chapter Forty       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Forty-One       Benjamin Parker

Chapter Forty-Two       James Rose

Chapter Forty-Three       Benjamin Parker

Chapter Forty-Four       Jayden Roberts

Chapter Forty-Five       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Forty-Six       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Forty-Seven       Alex Jernigan

Chapter Forty-Eight       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Forty-Nine       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Fifty       Jayden Roberts

Chapter Fifty-One       Detective William Joseph Hawkins

Chapter Fifty-Two       Jayden Roberts

Chapter Fifty-Three       Joyce Rose

Chapter Fifty-Four       Amil Mirsad

Chapter Fifty-Five       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Fifty-Six       Alex Jernigan

Chapter Fifty-Seven       Joyce Rose

Chapter Fifty-Eight       Alex Jernigan

Chapter Fifty-Nine       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Sixty       Jayden Roberts

Chapter Sixty-One       Paul Jakarta

Chapter Sixty-Two       Detective William Joseph Hawkins

For A. Who showed me how to love and be loved in return.

"For those who are according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who are according to the Spirit, the things of the Spirit.

Romans 8:5

Chapter One

Paul Jakarta

Paul walked around the bike shop looking at the different helmets on the shelves. He was like a kid in a candy store perusing the different colors, designs and markings. Picking out a new helmet topped his list of favorite things to do.

Helmets made a statement and proclaimed the rider’s tastes and affiliations. People could see those tastes and affiliations as they drove by in their cars. Still other riders saw the headgear simply as protection or the obedience of local laws.

Paul held his old, battered helmet at his side. Both he and his helmet had just come through an accident, thus the need for a new one.

Construction barriers were on either side of him as he drove down the narrow two-lane highway to his next destination. Illinois was well behind him in his rearview mirror while the open expanse of Tennessee lay around him. Road signs marked his journey through the southern state and told him he had 349 miles until he reached Little Rock, Arkansas.

Paul took his eyes off the road in front of him for a second to read the sign as he flew past it. When he turned his attention back to the road, there was a beige colored 1985 Cadillac El Dorado driving straight towards him on his side of the road.

Clearly the driver didn’t know it was a two-lane road with traffic going in opposite directions because there was no indication of the El Dorado speeding up to go around the car ahead of it.

Quickly Paul assessed his options and possible impending danger. There were no exits between him and the oncoming car. Looking in his side mirror, he saw a car behind him. He applied his brakes to get the driver to back off to a safe distance. It worked. The space between him and the car behind him grew.

Turning his attention back to the road in front of him, he saw the Cadillac was still in his lane and a black SUV traveled beside it on the correct side of the road. He noticed the SUV driver had even slowed down to allow the erred Cadillac driver to pass if that was its intention, but the car remained on the wrong side traveling toward him.

There was no place for him to go. Construction supplies and equipment lay on either side of the road with no open areas in the concrete barriers. It was Saturday so there were no workers around either.

Paul realized there was going to be a wreck between the oncoming car and his Honda motorcycle. He knew his Honda was not going to win. Swerving his motorcycle back and forth in his lane, he attempted to get the attention of the driver. It didn’t work.

Seeing that the inevitable was going to occur, Paul revved up his bike and charged head on toward the Cadillac.

The driver of the car apparently saw at the last second that Paul was not going to move, or that he himself was in the wrong lane. Movement of the steering wheel could be seen through the Cadillac’s windshield as the driver turned the wheel to avoid the speeding motorcycle.

With the sudden turning of the steering wheel, the front wheels of the Cadillac responded. The car swerved back into the lane in which it should’ve been traveling but not before the whole car turned sideways across the two-lane highway. Several sounds of wheels screeching were heard by Paul before the front wheel of his bike hit the back left fender of the Cadillac.

Paul’s body sailed through the air while his Honda motorcycle became a victim of the car traveling toward him as it hit the car and went flying over it. Within a matter of seconds he was able to consciously thank God for the magnificent creation of his brain and the mechanics of it. Quickly he prayed he would not be hurt too badly upon impact.

With cat-like reflexes, Paul tucked in his legs, curled his arms against his chest, tucked in his chin, and waited for the impact. It came hard and sudden as he landed on his right shoulder and rolled across the hard earth. He knew if anything were to be broken, cut, punctured, or hurt it should be his arms and legs. His vital organs, although protected by his endoskeleton, could still be punctured by bones if they were broken. His head was protected by Hawk.

He rolled and skidded until he was stopped by a dip in the ground near the service road. Surprisingly, the air was just now being knocked out of his lungs when he hit the bottom of the small ditch rather than when he initially hit the ground. Slowly he began to uncurl himself when he heard someone speak to him.

Lay still, buddy. Someone called for an ambulance. It’ll be here soon. Paul felt a hand on his shoulder and instructions not to move when he attempted it a second time. We don’t know how badly you’re hurt inside.

Wailing sirens sounded in the distance, growing louder with their approach. Soon paramedics were around him asking him question after question, Do you hurt anyplace? Do you know your name? Do you know where you are? Do you know what happened?

After Paul answered all their questions as best he could, he then asked one of his own, How’s my bike?

One of the paramedics looked gravely down into Paul’s eyes as he lay on the moving gurney and replied, Sorry, Paul, your bike didn’t make it.

Well, she had a good long life. I’m gonna miss her. He smiled up at the paramedic. The smile was returned before he patted Paul on the leg as they hoisted him into the ambulance.

After a night in the hospital for observation, Paul spent the next few days purchasing the items he had lost in the wreck, and trying to get things settled with the Cadillac driver’s insurance company.

Now he was at a Harley Davidson shop trying to pick out another helmet. There was something uplifting about picking out a new helmet. The same couldn’t be said about picking out another bike.

With helmets, he could take his time; look at all the many designs with no one trying to sell him one to make a commission. Bike salesmen were always trying to get you to purchase the extended warrantee, the latest gear, and his favorite, the roadside protection.

Passing all the solid color helmets, he arrived at the ones with graphics. Skulls, flames, and symmetrical lines covered the head gear in the section in which he stood. One of the helmets in particular caught his eye. It had a black background, an American flag, and an eagle painted on one side. The Hawk ST-1150. It was love at first sight. He reached for the helmet and absentmindedly bumped into someone.

Oh, sorry, Paul said as he quickly took a step back withdrawing his hand from reaching for the helmet.

No, that’s okay, a melodic sound came from behind and to the right of him. He turned and saw where the voice came from. She was dark-haired, dark-eyed and had a beautiful brown tone to her skin.

Please, Paul insisted, motioning for the beautiful woman to do whatever she had intended to do. She reached over and picked up the helmet Paul had been looking at.

Nice, huh? Paul picked up one of the boxed helmets with the exact same flag and eagle design as the woman held in her hands.

How’s it look? Her voice sang out again. He turned and looked at the woman who had placed the helmet on her head. Something inside him stirred as he gave her a full look from the top of the helmet to the bottom of her biker boots.

Nice. Paul felt his face flush.

She removed the helmet and checked the markings on the inside. She shuffled through the boxes and looked for her size while Paul waited patiently so he could do the same. There was only one row of that helmet design.

I love looking for new helmets. There’s just something thrilling about finding a new one. Like you’re about to make a new statement to the world, you know? The woman looked down at the box running her hand over the picture.

Yeah. The bad thing is that you only get a new one when the other has been in a wreck. Paul lifted his damaged helmet and extended it to the woman for her to see it. Scratches reflected off the face shield and all around the back where he had hit rocks along the ground.

Goodness. Momentarily she laid aside her intended purchase and took the scuffed up helmet from Paul. You must have skidded for a while.

It could’ve been a lot worse, but God was watching over me. Paul waited to see if the mention of God had any effect on her.

Amen, she whispered as she ran her hand over the damaged fiberglass. I get a new helmet every time the urge hits me, she continued, you know how some women have lots of shoes or purses? Paul nodded. The enchanting woman tapped the helmet box then tapped her chest as she turned and headed toward the checkout counter.

You buy helmets? Paul couldn’t help but smile as he followed her.

Oh yeah. Love ‘em. Must have about fifteen of ‘em in my garage where I park my bike. She paid for her purchase then waited at the end of the counter while Paul paid for his.

Hmmm. I only buy a new one when I need one. Paul thanked the cashier as his change was handed to him.

Most guys do. I did that the first time but then I thought, ‘if I wait for an accident before buying a new one, where’s the fun?’ So I buy a new one every year.

Slowly the two bikers walked out of the shop together as they continued to talk.

So you’ve been riding about fifteen years? Paul asked.

Twelve actually.

He followed her until she stopped beside a 2010 Yamaha V Star Classic Cruiser. It was a beautiful midnight blue.

Nice. Paul complimented her bike then turned and pointed at his Honda Gold Wing.

Do a lot of traveling? She strapped her new helmet to the sissy bar.

Yeah. Paul took the helmet from its box.

You’d have to have a bike that size if you travel a lot.

Hey, uh, he walked closer to her motorcycle as she put her helmet over her head then began to interlace the strap under her chin, I’m Paul. He extended his hand out to her.

The beautiful woman smiled back at him. His heart melted inside his chest as her face seemed to add sunshine to the outdoors.

Jillian. She shook his hand.

I don’t mean to be forward but, Paul turned and looked at his bike then looked back at her, would you like to get some coffee or something? He looked down at his watch, Maybe lunch?

Lunch would be great, she said. Where?

Actually, I don’t know this area very well. You pick. Paul mounted his motorcycle speaking louder than normal to get past the fiberglass of their helmets.

Follow me. Jillian started her bike then directed it out into traffic.

Anywhere, Paul whispered as he maneuvered his Honda to follow Jillian’s Yamaha.

Jillian pulled into a parking space of an O’Charley’s restaurant. Paul followed. He watched without staring as she gracefully swung her leg over the machine to dismount it, pulled off her helmet, and made a quick run of her fingers through her hair to give it some shape after the helmet had pressed it down.

After turning off the engine, Paul removed his new helmet and set it down on his seat. Although Paul thought she looked beautiful, he half expected Jillian to make an excuse for her hair. She didn’t. This, in itself, impressed him.

Ever been here? Jillian asked as she walked over to Paul while slinging her small purse over her shoulder.

Yes I have. He walked in front of Jillian to the front door and pulled it open so she could enter.

Aw. I was hoping to take you someplace you hadn’t been before.

There aren’t too many places I haven’t been.

I guess not. They walked through the door and Jillian held up two fingers to the seating hostess.

Right this way. The hostess picked up two menus from their home before heading for a booth. She waved at the booth while turning to face them. Is this okay?

Yes, thank you. Jillian slid into the booth as Paul sat down opposite her.

Hope you enjoy your meal, the hostess chimed before resuming her station.

Jillian picked up the menu and started looking over it. Paul crossed his arms over the menu as it lay closed on the table in front of him. Jillian looked up from her menu, You already know what you want?

Yeah, Paul smiled at her. He had only been to O’Charley’s one other time but he remembered what he ordered. He just hoped they still had it. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the beautiful woman seated across from him.

Great, Jillian said under her breath.

Hi, my name is Sarah, and I’ll be your server today.

Jillian looked over at the young adult who approached their table. Paul didn’t take his eyes off Jillian, as Sarah, the server, placed cocktail napkins in front of them while asking for their drink order.

Can I get you something to drink? We have Amstel and Heinekin on tap and we have a full bar if you’d like a mixed drink. Sarah-the-server reached over and picked up the drink menu from across their table, quickly flipped through the pages, and pointed at their options.

Water with lemon for me, Jillian ordered.

Same here, Paul added.

Okay. I’ll be right back with those waters.

Been here that many times that you don’t even have to look at the menu? Jillian said still looking over the food selections.

Actually, I’ve only been here once but I remembered what I ordered. He flipped open the menu to make sure the meal he wanted was still available. It was. He placed the menu flat on the table. He watched Jillian’s dark eyes move over her written choices.

Okay, I think I know. She placed her closed her menu on top of Paul’s.

"You think you know?"

"Yeah, just think I know. I don’t know that I know." Jillian smiled at Paul. Her smiled warmed him.

Know what you want? Sarah-the-server placed their waters on their napkins.

Paul reached over, squeezed the lemon into his water as Jillian ordered a chicken Caesar salad. He ordered a turkey burger with fries. Sarah thanked them then gathered their menus before hurrying off with their requests.

Their conversation was casual yet comfortable. They spoke about many different subjects as their dialogue flowed easily from one subject to the next. It was one of the most comfortable encounters Paul had ever had. When Sarah came back with their food they stopped their conversation long enough to allow Sarah to do her job.

Paul looked down at his burger, then at Jillian. Jillian picked up her fork and started to skewer a piece of lettuce when she noticed Paul had not moved. She looked at his food then up at him. Something wrong with your food?

No, uh, do you mind if we, uh, Paul reached up feigning an itch above his eye, if we pray before we eat?

No, please do. She placed her fork back onto the table and lowered her head.

Paul prayed over their food thanking God for their seemingly chance meeting. When he finished, he thanked her then set about doctoring his burger.

Are you a Christian? he asked taking his first bite of lunch.

The litany of words Jillian spoke after he asked that question made Paul realize that Jillian could possibly be one of the most perfect women he had ever met. Not that he had met a lot of women. He didn’t think one night stands classified as really meeting a woman since those encounters were really only for one thing.

Jillian sat with her fork poised over her salad but her lunch went untouched as she spoke about herself, what her childhood had been like, how she became a Christian, and how God spoke to her throughout her day. After twenty minutes, a turkey burger, and half his fries later, Jillian looked at his plate, then at hers. She sat back and snickered. I can’t believe you let me sit here and go on and on like that. She picked at her salad as her face turned red.

Hey, I enjoyed listening. But I warn you, I can talk just as much as you. Paul downed a couple more fries.

Okay, I’m ready, Jillian said as her hand finished the motion of stabbing some salad and grilled chicken.

Two more fries were making their way down his esophagus when he went into his own extemporaneous monologue of his past and his Christian conversion. Every once in a while Jillian injected a word or phrase as he spoke. By the time he finished, Sarah-the-server had placed their ticket between them and had gathered their plates.

Paul quickly reached over and grabbed the leather ticket holder. He opened it, placed his bank card in it then pushed it back to the edge of the table.

How much was mine? Jillian reached for her purse.

I don’t know. Paul took a drink of his water trying to cover the smile that was creeping across his mouth.

I want to pay for mine, Jillian protested.

I’ve got it. He let the smile show through.

Okay, Jillian threw up her arms in surrender, but you realize, that by paying for my meal, you are aiding in my helmet fetish.

Paul laughed and signed the receipt leaving Sarah-the-server a twenty percent tip. They both rose and walked out of the restaurant to their motorcycles. Before Jillian could get her helmet on, Paul walked over to her.

Jillian, would it be okay if I gave you my phone number?

Jillian smiled and pulled out her cell phone. She maneuvered through her smart phone menus before typing in Paul’s name and number.

Call me sometime, okay? Paul could feel his hand shaking as he reached over and patted her arm. Jillian took a step closer to him, stood on her tip toes, and kissed his cheek.

I will definitely call you sometime.

Saying their goodbyes, they each got ready for the road. Paul turned and watched as Jillian rode away on her motorcycle. He hoped she would call him sooner rather than later. Subconsciously, he watched her license plate as she drove away, and memorized it.

Chapter Two

King Ulfheoinn

575-570 BC

The king walked around the top of his tall palace and looked at his vast kingdom below. His long, flowing hair blew in the wind while his round, robust belly bulged from the tightness of his royal clothing.

Jabbing a piece of splintered wood between his teeth, he picked out morsels from his recent meal. A large pocket of air moved up through his insides making its way out of his mouth in a sonorous belch. The king ran his tongue over his lips to catch whatever might have come up with the air or anything that may have gotten lodged in his mustache during the meal.

Standing on the palace roof, he could see for three and a half miles in every direction. It was beautiful and splendid. And it was all his.

Wars with the Egyptians, Edomites, and Judaians brought with them victory and spoils. Horses, slaves, soldiers, subjects, weapons, shields, chariots, concubines, wives, houses, gods, gold, silver, copper, gemstones, foods from all over the world, and a myriad of animals were all his; and it was he that had the scars to show his victory.