Chapter 10 – Cicero's Secret
"Forced to play in this drama, a part I did not wish to play." – Watch the Lamb by Ray Boltz
Elliquus reclined on his couch and drew in a deep breath as he heard Gus conclude his harrowing tale. He could sense with every fiber of his being that the Holy Spirit was working very rapidly within the newest addition to his congregation; however, the consequence was another spirit had now barged in and would love nothing more than to undo all the good that had been done to and for Gus thus far. He knew he had to choose his words carefully, lest he frighten the seeker away from salvation. He took an audible slurp from his goblet of chamomile tea so Gus would know he was still there; then he trusted God would fill him with exactly what he was to say.
"Gus, I think I know what is happening to you; it's something we all experienced both before and after we embrace Jesus as our lord and savior. Believe me, you are not alone, and every man and woman in our group will tell you they've been through it or are presently going through it. I know you are a veteran, so you surely understand the true nature of warfare from an up close and personal prospective. I can't remember a time when the Roman Army wasn't involved in some sort of battle or another. Anyway, from what I just heard you say, it's evident that you are now in spiritual warfare. You told me of a villain named Beelzebub in your nightmare; sadly, he is real, as real as God is. The difference is God loves you and stands for good while Beelzebub, also known as satan, the devil, or the enemy, hates God and would stop at nothing to either keep people from embracing Jesus Christ or render Christians ineffective by setting up obstacles in their paths so they can't honor what God has called them to do."
"I thought the devil was that guy in red with horns and a pointy tail who played practical jokes on the main characters in cartoons. They've featured stuff like that ever since I was a kid."
"Believe me, that prankster with a pitchfork image is the farthest thing from the truth. If we saw anything like that coming, we'd run; you'd run if you saw the prosecutor from your dream. The most dangerous thing is the devil is capable of assuming many forms including invisibility or the image of anything he chooses to counterfeit so he can more effectively deceive his victims. Remember that 'talking snake' as you called it your first day with us? That was the devil tempting Eve to bite into that forbidden fruit."
"Tempting?" Gus queried, grabbing a throw pillow and absently squeezing one of the corners in his free hand as the conversation unfolded. For some reason he did not like where this was going and hoped Elliquus could provide some pearls of wisdom and comfort.
"It's something nobody on the face of the earth is immune to, Gus, and it doesn't just happen to Christians. Just ask anyone who is on a diet or wants to overcome an addiction of any sort. The devil is very nosy and only wants to kill, steal, and destroy. He does this by finding out our weaknesses and then pushing our buttons right where it hurts. For example, Jubilus and I inherited high cholesterol from both sides of our family and have to honor a healthy meal plan so we can avoid depending on medications. To do that, we have to be extremely careful what we eat six days a week so we can happily partake of what everyone brings on Sundays. Monday through Saturday, the delicious foods we're to avoid seem to be more attractive to us, almost calling out to us to eat them. That attraction to what we're not supposed to have or do is temptation, and we have to decide for ourselves if we're going to resist or give in to it."
"If we resist and pass the proverbial test or win this spiritual war you're talking about, does it quit? Does this devil leave us alone after that?"
"Unfortunately, no, not until we go to Heaven; because the devil is only allowed to stay so we could choose freely to love God. Without our free will intact, we'd operate on instinct like animals do. Would you want Laurie to love you the way she does because she does automatically or because she decided to on her own; in other words, did she marry you because she was supposed to or because she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you?"
"She married me because she loved me and felt safe with me and that I would be good to her for the rest of her life," Gus answered with a shrug of the shoulders.
"It's the same way with God; He wants you to love Him because you want to be with Him and because He wants you to feel safe and secure with Him like Laurie does with you; in fact, Christians are often referred to as the bride of Christ. With our free will intact, our love for God is far more valuable."
"Let me get this straight. Are you saying that so I can keep my free will and love God on a deeper level, this devil is going to hang around for the rest of my life; I can't get rid of him and get him to go somewhere else? Does he go easier on Christians?"
"Oh no, Gus, unhappily, the devil comes after Christians and seekers all the more. He started coming after you tonight because he sees you showing an interest in Christianity and wants to stop you from embracing Jesus one day. He doesn't bother those who are uninterested in salvation because he knows they will be his one day when they die and pass into eternity; those are no brainers for him. He really gets mad when God draws seekers to salvation, for that's likely another soul he won't be able to take to Hell. Since he can no longer claim Christians, he will wound or weaken them spiritually so they can't grow in their relationship with God. It's not a matter of if the devil comes for you; it's a matter of when, the difference being between a seemingly normal eighty odd year life on Earth, destined for a miserable eternity suffering alone in Hell, or spiritual warfare on this earth with our brothers and sisters in Christ to help us but permanent happiness in heaven one day."
"Personally, I'd go for the choice where you aren't going through all this crud alone and the suffering eventually stops," Gus voiced which option he clearly favored.
"Forget it, Holiday, if you join the superstitionis novae ac maleficae, you'll be a hated man throughout the city of Rome. These new friends of yours aren't exactly winning any popularity contests among the townspeople, nor are they as prosperous as they could have been if they hadn't sold out to their God," the scoundrel from Gus's nightmare hissed malevolently in a snarling voice only the seeker could hear.
"Shut … up," Gus growled through gritted teeth, swinging the pillow at the invisible foe.
"Gus, you OK?" Elliquus voiced concern for the troubled Roman on the other end of the phone.
"HUH? Oh, I uh … I … oh boy, you'll have me hauled off to the funny farm in a hug me toga after hearing this. Oh, here goes nothing … Elliquus; I think that stupid devil's bugging me."
"And you thought I would have you packed off for insanity? What's happening to you is perfectly normal; spiritual warfare is fought inside the head, not on a traditional battlefield, and no, it's not mental illness. Right now, you are like a soldier in training and will need people who have a stronger relationship with God to guide you through this. You did the right thing calling me tonight, for now I can offer you the support you will need."
"But if the devil can't be gotten rid of, what can you do for me?" Gus wanted to know.
"The same thing when we asked God to heal you from the headaches; I can say a prayer for you. With your okay, I can do that right here over the phone."
"I don't have to be physically with you for you to do that?"
"As long as I know you want prayer, I can do it any time, with or without you present. Remember when you first joined us and we prayed for Annia when she was sick? She wasn't there, but we prayed for her anyway, knowing she requested it. Prayer is simply talking to God and asking Him for guidance, healing, or any other help He can give us.
OK, go ahead and do it. You know about all this stuff better than I do."
"Our Father in Heaven, we love You and we come to You now lifting up Gus into Your capable and loving hands. You can see the battle that has begun in his mind, and You know he could use and would appreciate all the help he can get, especially since this is a very new experience for him. Please bring him comfort and peace, causing him to know without a shadow of a doubt how much You love him. Lord, rebuke the adversary, who is trying to cast this kind soul that You created for a very special purpose into confusion in Jesus' name! Please cause him to sense Your presence as he goes to bed tonight and let him rest in Your protective arms. This we pray in Jesus' Name! Amen."
"Thanks, Elliquus; somehow, I feel a lot better." Gus loosened his grip on the throw pillow.
"I'm glad to hear that, my friend." Elliquus finished the rest of the tea in his goblet and set the empty vessel on the coffee table.
"Augustus, it's time to rest," the gentle apparition dropped the hint that the Holiday patriarch had better retire for the night while the cozy shawl of peace was still wrapped around him.
"Elliquus, I hate to get off the phone so soon, but I'm going to have to get ready for bed. I'm not normally such a light weight, but my family and I have to get up early if we want to have our baths and make it over to your house on time; otherwise, there'll be plenty of disgruntled coffee drinkers tomorrow when I show up while your teaching is already underway."
"No problem, I would just give you a tardy slip," the good natured fellow teased with a chuckle. "Seriously, if you need to get to bed early, I do understand. My chamomile tea's going to kick in in about fifteen minutes, so I have to get to bed too. Good night and pleasant dreams, Gus."
"Good night, Elliquus. See you in the morning." Upon hearing the call click into silence, the seeker hung up the receiver, locked the front door, and made his way back to the master bedroom, leaving only the hall lamp on for Happius so he could come in, secure for the night, and find his way back to his own room.
"Before we call the children in and ask a blessing over the food, I would like to make a need known. Annia and Neddia called early this morning asking if anyone can come over sometime this week to help them pay their bills. Normally Annia's mother drops by to do this, but she is unable to this month," Elliquus laid aside his scrolls to address the Sunday morning assembly.
"Where do they live? I think I can do it on Wednesday," outdoor laborer Gus offered his services to the two blind ladies who sat side by side on the fireplace hearth. "They're predicting torrential downpours and thunderstorms that day, so I won't be able to work."
"We're at 32707 Aurora Circle, just three blocks from-" Annia began, only to be interrupted with a very surprised Gus's revelation that he knew exactly how to find their home.
"Three blocks north of Roman High. Small world! You won't believe it, but I grew up in that house! My mother said she sold it four years ago to an older couple who needed a second home for their daughter and her friend… left just about all the furniture behind except for the master bedroom set since she moved in with my brother. I could find you girls with my eyes closed!"
"Thank you very much, Gus! God will surely bless you for doing this for us; the bank seems fond of their monthly mortgage payments, and the collectors aren't going to let us keep the utilities and phone on out of the goodness of their hearts," Annia commented with a cockeyed smile as she brushed her small left hand along the skirt of her scarlet toga.
"It's my pleasure, ladies. I'll stop by in the early afternoon after I have lunch; there's supposed to be a lull in the storms then."
The days passed by rapidly after that festive Sunday gathering, and, true to Gus's prediction, it rained cats and dogs throughout the morning, lulling up around the one O'clock hour. It was barely misting when Gus pulled into the driveway of his childhood home for the first time since he last visited his widowed mother, and it was as if he had stepped back to a simpler time of his life when his father was alive and his biggest worry was if he could pass his classes or if Laurie's parents would finally allow her to date him, a boy two years her senior, a monumental age difference in the eyes of parents raising an only daughter. It felt quite odd for the Roman as he trudged the soaked sidewalk leading to the front porch, scaled the wooden steps and pressed his finger into the doorbell button; after all, he lived in this house until age twenty when his father fell in battle, thus wrenching him from his youth and all its attendant dreams when he had to join the army until Mark could take over supporting the family.
"Hello, Gus, come in before the rain starts up and you melt," Neddia smiled broadly, motioning for the visitor to enter the house from his youth, thus furthering his journey into the past.
"Thank you, Neddia. Boy isn't it strange being back here again," Gus marveled at how the furnishings could make a home look the same, yet its new occupants and the passage of time made it certain that one could truly never go home again. He hung his cloak on the rack in the corner by the closet and glanced to Neddia as a silent query as to where she wanted him to go so he could assist the ladies and be on his way before the conditions outside worsened again.
"Annia, Gus is here to help with those pesky little old bills!" Neddia called in the direction of the kitchen. "You might want to bring out one of the chairs so nobody has to be left standing!"
"Good afternoon, Gus. Neddia just put on some coffee, so it should be ready by the time we're done here." Annia emerged with a chair, plunked it next to the desk that was located under the south facing window, and promptly sat down in the rolling chair; gesturing for the man to take a seat next to her while Neddia perched on an ottoman nearby. After the visitor politely bid her his greeting, she offered him one of the hard candies from the sweet jar that was at the back right corner of the desk and continued, "We know the amounts we owe on each one since my parents had us arrange for the yearly flat fees, so cutting the checks isn't the problem. We come to a grinding halt when it comes to putting the payments and the stubs back into those darn mailers properly because we have to be sure the address shows through the little window. If they made opaque scroll mailers with preprinted labels on the outside, we'd be laughing."
"Yeah, and it would cheat your mother out of an excuse to come see you every month." Gus retrieved one of the mailers and read its attendant stub. "This one is for the utilities … Yikes! You girls are getting ripped off! My pop never had to pay this when we lived here!"
"I think it only looks that way because of the flat fee. During the hottest and coldest months my dad says we pay less than people who don't go by the flat fee. Here's the check." With that, she handed the completed and signed slip of parchment to a bewildered Gus!
"How did you…" the gentleman voiced his curiosity as he prepared the payment for mailing.
"Raised line checks; my mother insisted I learn how to write them the moment I moved out." Before she and Gus could move on to the next bill, a gray and black tabby with a bib of white fur on her chest jumped upon the desk and decided that one of the scrolls had become her new toy. She batted the paper play thing until it rolled off the desk and then proceeded to chase it along the floor. "Stormy, no! That's not yours!"
"Stormy, stop that and give us back that scroll!" Neddia demanded, only to hear the document disappear underneath the couch that was too heavy for either woman to lift. "Oh great, bad cat!"
"Hey, no strain, ladies, I can lift that couch long enough for one of you to fish out that scroll," Gus, a man used to erecting marble columns for a living, offered his services, ejecting himself from his seat and padding over to the sofa. "I don't really want to hold it up longer than necessary since it's a solid oak frame, and I'm still regaining my strength after what I did to my ribs last month; so one of you will have to crawl down there and get the scroll out as quickly as possible. OK, here we go, one … two … three!"
Fast as a flash, Annia, the less stocky of the two dropped to the floor on her belly, reaching her hands as far as she could under the couch. She rose in a minute with two scrolls in her possession and was unsure which one was the bill. "Looks like Stormy kicked something else down there without us knowing it," she postulated, holding the scrolls out to Gus, who had gladly lowered the couch to its place on the floor.
"Let me see those…" The Roman glanced at the typed printing at the top of one of the papers. "Hmmm, this looks like the phone bill …" He handed it to Neddia and peeked at the other goody Annia fished out. "What's this … uh, this … I don't think it's yours, probably was lost under there for years. I'll take care of it," he quickly rolled up the second scroll when he caught sight of his name scrawled out in his father's long forgotten handwriting. He knew not what was on that parchment; however this was not the time or place to inspect a page that was over twenty-three years old. He would have to read it later in the privacy of his own home.
"Annia, you and Gus finish up with the bills while I put Stormy into the wash room." Neddia reached down and scooped up the feline who had decided to wind herself around the lady's ankles. "Come on, kitty, you're going upstairs where you can't cause any more trouble."
Once they were certain the little furry friend wouldn't scramble or scurry off with any more scrolls, Annia and Gus returned to their positions at the desk so they could take care of the phone bill, mortgage, and any other payments that were coming due. When they were done with their financial chore, the group rewarded themselves by partaking of some sugar cookies and hot beverages: coffee for neddia and Gus and hot chocolate for Annia. A glance out the window told the only male in the group that more black clouds were rolling in, and he figured he had better head for home before the sky opened up again.
"I don't like the look of that sky; I'll probably have between fifteen minutes to half an hour to beat the next deluge home," Gus sighed, donning his cloak and tucking the old scroll safely away so any precipitation wouldn't ruin it while he was en route to his own home. "If you ladies ever need anything, just give me a call or have Elliquus make another announcement on a Sunday. Neddia, I know you can see a little; would you be able to make out my phone number if I wrote it big enough?"
"Just tell me what it is, and I'll put it in my phone scroll," the woman glided over to the desk and retrieved a long piece of parchment from the upper, left drawer and produced a thick stick to dip into an ink well that was still three quarters full.
Gus watched in utter amazement as Neddia quickly transcribed the phone number as he dictated it, penning the numerals in large block font as tall as the first section of her thumb. These two, in his opinion, did remarkably well for persons with their lack of useable eyesight, and he hoped he would handle such a condition as graciously in the event old age ever rendered him bespectacled or left him with weakened eyes.
In a moment, a distant echo of thunder cued the fully sighted man that it was time for him to depart for his apartment. The trio exchanged thank you's, familial hugs, and promises to see each other in a few days. Before he passed through the doorway, Gus quipped that the girls should deliberately run out of firewood or break something in the house so he would have an excuse to drop by and visit while he provided whatever service they would need. Their cheerful chortles were the last thing he heard before the front door swung shut and he jumped into his chariot, prepared to drive home in the drizzling rain.
Fortunately for not only Gus, but also for Bear the horse, both were warm, safe, and dry in their respective shelters when the cloudburst finally showered its bounty upon the neighborhood. While Laurie finished up the house cleaning and labored to prepare dinner on the stove that continued in its failure to function properly, Gus helped the children with their homework and placed a call to the Forum Construction Company to see if he would be back to work the next day. Kerria had delivered the tidings that inclement weather would delay outdoor work once again; however, Gus would not have to spend another idle day, as Mr. Tycoonius reportedly planned to drop off some blue prints for him to work on at home.
The sky was black as pitch thanks to the late hour and the storm clouds that hovered over the city of Rome. No stars peeked through the vast curtain of cloud cover, and only flashes of lightning illuminated the darkness for a few seconds at a time before mighty cracks of thunder made their own presence known. Before following his family's lead and going to bed for the night, Gus laid out his work scrolls across his drawing board so he could get a jump on them first thing after eating breakfast. It was then that he recalled the mysterious paper that he had brought home from the ladies' house, a relic from the past, something his father evidently wanted him to see. Settling into his chair and having pulled the end table lamp closer to him, he unrolled the scroll and began to read:
Dear Gus,
It's the middle of the night as I write, and it's now been about two weeks since my premature return home from the army because of that darn wrist of mine. I'm writing this letter to you in the event we don't have the opportunity to talk about this face to face. It's a very personal matter that even your mother doesn't know about, and I would just as soon keep it that way seeing how upset she was over that news report she heard on the radio about what happened in Jerusalem the weekend I was sent home. I know you, and you are getting more like me every day, including the persistent nature that brought honor to the Holiday name for generations, and I knew you wouldn't let go of what you overheard unless I put a stop to it right away. Yes, you wanted answers, but I had to threaten you with restriction because I wasn't ready to face what I witnessed, let alone discuss it with my son, who is still months shy of being a teenager. You're not old enough to shave yet, and here I am having to tell you something that would cause most grown men to feel uneasy. I'm hoping that you are ready for what I have to tell you. Please bear with me as I start from the beginning.
It was just like any other Friday morning during my time in the army reserves, up before the sun, cram some substandard food down and grab a quick shower before serving for the day. Of course, I had to play the klutz, which you know is not like me at all, and I tripped while coming out of the shower tent. Trying to break my fall was how I managed to sprain my wrist. Naturally, a temporarily one-handed armor bearer is about as useless as an oil lamp at high noon, and I thought they would give me an alternate assignment since my month of service wasn't up yet, and I'd have that darn splint on for a few weeks.
The time from when I first fell until well after they dressed my wound went by in a blur that I either blocked out because of the pain or just felt it was too boring to be worthy of remembering. I was still in the medic's tent, inwardly complaining about how uncomfortable that stupid splint was and fully expecting to be temporarily placed at some mind numbing clerical job when I heard complete chaos breaking out all around the tent. The officer, to whom I was assigned as his armor bearer, burst in and said all personnel had to be present per orders of the guys at the top of the chain of command. I protested because of my injury, and he said if it was up to him, he'd leave me where I was; however, it wasn't up to him, and his head would roll if I wasn't brought out. Needless to say, there I was, surrounded by fellow soldiers with no way to even try to stray from the crowd. I was in pain, and the little white pill they gave me hadn't kicked in yet; so this goes without saying, I was not a happy man by any stretch of the imagination. I couldn't think straight and only heard snatches of conversation that went on around me. Apparently there was an uproar concerning a Jewish teacher named Jesus who really had the leaders in Jerusalem up in arms. I don't know which side was right, or which was wrong; all I knew was he was sentenced to death.
Anyway, there I stood, still squished in among my commander and other roman soldiers when the three who were scheduled to be executed marched by. OK, two of them looked like any other criminals you would see at any other execution; however, the third one was beaten so severely he was unrecognizable! Something in my head rang out like an ear worm, the words, "Could this be Jesus?" playing several times in my mind until I swallowed hard and cleared out the mental cobwebs. Then one of the guys who stood in the front of the jumble of soldiers was given an order, though I didn't hear anything over the din. Then I saw that soldier run out and force a man whom I believe was an Israelite to carry the cross behind this bleeding and broken prisoner. Something in my head told me I had better stop complaining about my wounded wrist, for if I had been out with the rest of my detail instead of in the medic's tent, I might have been where that guy stood, possibly given that order myself. I actually felt like I was going to throw up, and I claimed to have had a bad reaction to the pain pill in hopes my commander would mow through the crowd so I could barf in peace. All I got for my efforts was a half second sympathetic glance from him and a shaking head. Apparently, I wasn't going anywhere.
Thankfully, we all started walking again, which halted the urge to puke; however, I still was hemmed in by people on all sides. We stopped where we could see the three prisoners atop that hill, nailed to crosses and having to remain there until dead. Now, you know I have seen many gory sights during my time in battle, but something about the battered man in the middle stuck out to me. I still can't explain it, but there was something about his eyes that will remain with me until I am in the grave. Then the words, "Cicero, for you." Echoed through my mind over and over again, and I couldn't shut off those words for the life of me. I'm almost ashamed to admit this to my own son, a boy to whom I repeatedly have admonished that big boys aren't supposed to cry. There I stood, digging my teeth into my trembling bottom lip and screwing my eyes shut in hopes of holding back any signs of even a single tear. Then the nausea was back, and I didn't care if I let loose all over the guy in front of me. Instead, I only had a dry heave or two. All I could do is stand there and watch those three guys die.
Then the strangest thing happened, it was the middle of the day, and it got dark as midnight. Again, the words "Cicero, for you." ran through my mind and my eyes welled up. I then felt dizzy and found myself leaning on my commander for physical support. It either had to be the combined stress of my injury and what I was witnessing or the fact I failed to have eaten enough breakfast that caused everything to go black all around me. The next thing I knew, I was on a cot in the medic's tent, my commander standing over me.
I tried to sit up, only to feel his heavy hand clamping around my shoulder and pushing me back down. He pulled rank and ordered me to just lie there, keep my yap shut and let him do all the talking. His own commanding officer came into the tent, and the two of them went on about how unwell I was, my commander claiming I picked up a flu bug, thus my fainting spell. I wasn't paying attention to the exact words those two exchanged, for I was still suffering from a feeling of great loss and anguish that could only be matched if I had come home from serving to find someone had put you, your mother, and Mark to the sword. It goes without saying that something had to be written all over my countenance, for I evidently didn't have to do that good of an acting job to convince my commander's commander that I was, in fact, sick. Though it is highly unlike the roman Army Reserves to send a man home without hardship dismissal paperwork, they decided my present physical condition and exemplary record were enough to let me slip by just this once. Needless to say I was nothing short of amazed, as I normally would have been ordered to remain in bed until the supposed flu bug passed, then put to work at a desk job until my wrist was healed or my month of service was up. Even as I sit in my favorite chair with you sleeping right upstairs, I still marvel at the fluke that brought me home. It's as if someone higher up than the officers saw to my early homecoming this month.
Of course the image of Jesus and the attendant strange feelings I had at the camp followed me home, and I'd been having vivid dreams about it. I won't go into detail about my having nightmares and what you, Mom, and Mark are to expect because of them since we'd been through this countless times when I would return home from a particularly bad month, for it's the same old thing with a radio playing soft music in Mom's and my room at night, keeping a close watch on my moods so nobody gets underfoot and is yelled at unnecessarily, the whole ball of wax. My hand is trembling even as I write you now, as I still haven't shaken the images and emotions that have stuck with me since the above described Friday. I could never say anything while still at camp, for they might have put me to the sword for being a traitor to Caesar and the entire Roman Empire. Maybe that's why my commander ordered me to shut up and put on the I'm sick act. Who knows. All I can tell you is what happened that day is something I will have to deal with, and it's something I cannot openly talk about because of the possible consequences.
Right now, I need to figure out the best time to give you this letter and find an excuse to disappear with you for a weekend fishing trip so we can safely talk. You know I have to plan that carefully since Mark always wants to come along on our father-son trips, and there's no way I want him to know any of this. You know how he still gets mad as all get out when the weather ruins outdoor plans; so how could he handle what I just told you? I'm not even sure how you will take it when you finish reading what I wrote. Anyway, it's going on three in the morning, and my mind is going blank, a definite sign I need to go upstairs and try to get some sleep. Once you have read this and had time to think about it, come to me, and we can arrange that fishing trip so we can have a good long talk in privacy. I love you, son.
Dad
Feeling numb from head to toe and from the inside out, Gus had no idea how he mustered the strength to roll up the scroll; however, there it was neatly sitting in his frozen hands. Only god knew for certain and Gus guessed that it was a brisk breeze from an open window that sent the scroll from the coffee table to its hiding place only an hour after Cicero had gone to bed, thus delaying its falling into its intended hands until this precise juncture. Why didn't Cicero do anything about it when he realized the letter was lost? Was there not the right time to find and deliver it? Had the father of two boys recovered from his traumatic experience, no longer feeling the need to share it with his first born? If the letter was confirmed gone, why didn't he still arrange for that private time with young Gus to discuss what he witnessed and how it affected him? Even if the armor bearer realized the letter was missing, it was likely he couldn't bring himself to pen or speak of it from square one because of what he'd have to disclose once again.
At last, mobility returned to the dumbfounded Roman, and he knew that he had to see Elliquus as quickly as possible! He sprang from his chair and darted into the kitchen to retrieve a cylindrical cookie tin for the scroll's protection from the pouring rain. Unfortunately, when he yanked the metal container from its place in the cabinet below the flatware drawer, an avalanche of tins of various shapes and sizes came tumbling onto the marble floor! Of course this attracted Laurie's attention, as she hadn't fallen asleep yet.
"Brutus, are you in the …" she stopped dead in her tracks when she realized the one to cause the loud clattering noise was not the family pet but the family head! "Gus, what are you doing?" she queried with arched eyebrows, for she expected her husband to be in their room getting ready for bed, not haphazardly tossing cookie containers back into the kitchen cabinet.
"I have to go to Elliquus' house to take care of something that can't wait for morning. If I put this off, I won't be able to sleep tonight or concentrate on the work I have to do on those blueprints tomorrow. I know it's storming out, and I'll drive carefully; if I'm over there too long, I'll end up spending the night and be back here first thing in the morning. I can't blame you for worrying about me after what happened last month, and I promise I'll call you when I get there." The troubled Roman worked ardently to keep an even keel, but his voice and eyes still manifested hints of outright panic!
"Do you want me to go with you, dear?" Laurie asked with genuine concern, for she doubted her spouse would be able to drive in his current state of mind.
"Do I want you to go with me? Yes, I want you to go with me, but you can't! this is something I have to take care of on my own!" He countered with the slam of the cabinet door. It was clear the level of his anxiety was increasing with each sentence he uttered.
Laurie stood helplessly watching with concerned eyes on the verge of welling up as Gus inserted the scroll into the tin he selected, threw on his cloak, and wildly dashed out into the storm.
As he drove through the mercilessly pounding deluge, Gus felt his heart hammering so violently within his chest, he felt as if he would suffer a coronary right there on the road!
"The time for curiosity and exploration is over!" he cried out into the din of the rain and wind, knowing his voice would be no match for that of the storm. "It ends here tonight!"