Jeffrey Allen Davis's Blog, page 7

Annie Douglass Lima’s New Book

More than just a coloring book, this inspirational activity book will help you relax, unwind, and enjoy some creative fun while hiding God’s Word in your heart. 




Proceeds from the sale of Hide it In Your Heart will be donated to www.Christar.org to help provide a translation of God’s Word for a particular people group in East Asia who do not yet have the Bible in their own language.

Here are a few sample coloring and activity pages from Hide it In Your Heart. If you’d like to color them or complete the word puzzles, click here to access a PDF that you can download and print.







   


Hide it In Your Heart is available in paperback on Amazon. Click here to order your copy for $8.99. 




HOWEVER, you can get it for 15% off if you order it here on CreateSpace with coupon code ! The code can be used an unlimited number of times and will not expire, so feel free to order as many copies as you like for family and friends. Hide it In Your Heart makes a great gift for anyone who enjoys word puzzles, coloring, or God’s word! 

You’re welcome to share the code with others, too.



Happy coloring!

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About the Author:

Sign up for author updates and receive a free ebook of “interviews” with characters from her fantasy series: 

Buster’s Legacy is Released!

BUSTER’S LEGACY, Book Five of the Adventure Chronicles is now available. To celebrate the release, all of the other ebooks have been lowered to 99 cents each (with the exception of Book One, which is always FREE). Jump on this while you can because the prices will go back up soon!

Four disappearances in Jameston, Missouri, have come before the brutal murder of one of the Renegades. When the killers leave graffiti indicating that the attack was due to the victim’s link to Adventure, Renegade leader Ben Shalley opens a line of communication with Jamie Raleigh that brings the ninja and his friends into town to investigate.

Complicating matters, three friends from Thera have come to the Mother World to find a demonic ruby that may be linked to the troubles. But what does all of this have to do with a short story that Buster Goodman wrote when he was thirteen?

Heroes and villains must join forces to battle a greater darkness. And, in the process, a few souls may be saved.

Legacy Blog #9: The Antenna

My Beloved Daughter,

In the early 1980s, television wasn’t digital yet.  Analog signals were sent out from the television stations and could be picked up by nearby T.V.s with the “rabbit ear” antennae on the back of the sets.

We weren’t close enough.

Van Buren had cable . . . if you lived in town.  The house that my family lived in was eight miles outside of Van Buren’s city limits, ensuring that we were too far away to get cable.  Also, the mini-dish systems, like Dish Network, didn’t come around until the mid-1990s.

They did have satellite dishes (called “C-Band” dishes) that were as big as a small car.  You would move them up and down to catch signals from the various television satellites that orbit the planet.  You could see channels from all over the world, in various languages.  Or, so I hear.  See, those dishes cost you to purchase them.  Thousands of dollars.  So, we had another option.

Attached to the front of our house, standing taller than said house, was our antenna.  We could use it to get two, sometimes three channels.  The three channels were Channel 8 from Jonesboro, AR, Channel 12 from Cape Girardeau, and, when the sky was REALLY clear, Channel 6 from Paducah, KY.

The top of the antenna had to be pointed in the direction of the television station.  I can remember going outside, planting my feet, and turning that monstrosity . . . all the while listening to Grandpa Chuck or Grandma Pat yelling, “Keep going!  A little more!  More!  Back the other way!  WOAH!!!”

After school cartoons were a staple of the 1980s, if you had cable.  For us, there was a half-hour Bozo the clown show that played on Channel 8 when I got home from school.  When I was in the first grade, one of the channels showed the original Star Trek series every afternoon.  I also watched the old sitcom, “I Dream of Jeannie.”

Another side-effect of this set-up was that we often ended up with the same “special programming” (i.e. sporting events) on all three channels.  Your Grandpa Chuck would groan a mild expletive, turn off the television and pick up a book.  If it was in the evening, I would do the same thing.

But, for the most part, I played outside.  I didn’t have any real friends who lived near me, so I kept myself occupied in worlds of make-believe.  Worlds that have found their way into the books that I write.

Guest Post by Scott Bayles

I met Pastor Scott Bayles at the 2014 Cape Girardeau Comic-Con.  Founder of the ministry, Costumers for Christ, he and his friends (and now mine) minister to our fellow geeks with the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  When I asked him to write a guest blog on what we can learn from a super villains, he readily agreed.

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While piddling around on YouTube the other day, I came across a video titled Everything Great About Avengers: Age of Ultron which prompted me to rewatch the movie. As the video points out, there is lots to love about this movie—so many great moments both laugh-out-loud and stand-up-and-cheer. Perhaps the most compelling aspect of the movie, though, is the titular villain—Ultron.

Since his first appearance in Avengers #54 (1968), Ultron has evolved into one the greatest villains in the Marvel Universe. Originally created by Hank Pym (aka Ant-Man) as an artificial intelligence programmed to achieve peace and order in the world, Ultron concludes, “Humanity is inherently flawed. Observation and analysis suggest humanity is encoded with chaotic and violent tendencies that cannot be overcome… The only way to achieve peace is through the elimination of those who perpetuate war” (Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes; Season 1, Episode 22). Thus, Ultron sets out to rid the world of humanity.

In the film version, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner team up to create Ultron for similar purposes. But, just as in previous incarnations, Ultron redefines his programming and seeks to remake the world in his image. Rarely have I seen a villain with such a penchant for biblical allusions.

When he comes face to face with the Avengers, Ultron greets only one of our heroes with sarcastic disdain: “Captain America-God’s righteous man.” Ultron means this as an insult, but he’s actually correct (remember Cap’s memorable line: “There’s only one God ma’am. And I’m pretty He doesn’t dress like that.”).

In another scene, when Ultron lays claim to a chunk of precious, indestructible vibranium, he quotes Jesus, saying, “Upon this rock, I will build my church.”

Later, Ultron assures Wanda and Pietro, “The human race will have every opportunity to improve.” Doubtful, Pietro questions, “And if they don’t?” Ultron answers, “Ask Noah… When the earth starts to settle God throws a stone at it. And believe me—he’s winding up.” Ultron sees humanity as wayward, self-destructive and in need of a good cleansing. The mechanical monster seems to frame himself as a wrathful deity—a creative being who wants to work with a blank slate.

To me, this latest incarnation of Ultron (and perhaps all previous ones as well) represents the dangers of making for ourselves “gods cast of metal” (Leviticus 19:4). Wittingly or not, Tony Stark created for himself a false god—a god in whom he placed his trust. Obviously, that trust was misplaced. All too often, we make the same mistake. False gods come in many forms—money, power, fame, possessions, sex, drugs, whiskey, even the god of self. Anything that takes the place of the One True God in our hearts and lives becomes a god of our own making. And it always ends badly.

Fortunately, we have a couple resources for conquering these lesser gods.

The first is Scripture. In Avengers #68 (1969), Ultron experiences one of his greatest defeats. When Ultron tries to pry a pivotal piece of information from Ant-Man’s mind, the hero crashes Ultron’s positronic brain by focusing his thoughts on a single phrase, repeated over and over in his mind. Ultron cries, “My mind… filling with thoughts I cannot bear! No! I was prepared to receive any scientific formula… any arcane knowledge… but not this… not this!” When his fellow Avengers ask Ant-Man what phrase caused the mechanical menace to overload, Hank Pym replies, “A simple phrase, Avengers… and an ancient one… ‘thou shalt not kill.’” That’s right! The words of Scripture (the Ten Commandment to be exact) enabled Ant-Man to vanquish this “god cast of metal.” And, like Ant-Man, we always have the Word of God at our disposal. By focusing our thoughts on Scripture, we can avoid settling for lesser gods.

Furthermore, we have the church. Early in the film, Ultron visits a church. “This church is in the exact center of the city,” he explains. “The elders decreed it so that everyone could be equally close to God.” Fittingly, it’s in this same church where the Avengers battle Ultron’s minions in the movie’s climactic conclusion. But remember, the church isn’t a place… it’s people. When Ultron asks, “How do you hope to stop me?” Iron Man nods to Captain America and replies, “Like the old man said—together!” The same is true for us. The church is the center of it all. Together—working side by side, hand in hand—we can keep each other accountable and overcome the gods of this world.

In the Old Testament, whenever Israel repented and returned to the Lord, they would destroy all of their carved statues and metal idols and tear down all of their altars. Maybe it’s time for us to do the same. What “gods cast of metal” do you need to tear down?

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Be sure to check out Scott’s book, Holy Heroes: The Gospel According to DC and Marvel, on Amazon!

Legacy Blog #8 The Move to Van Buren

My Beloved Daughter,

The move from St. Charles to Van Buren (both Missouri, obviously) was a major interruption to our lives.  Well, I was three, so it wasn’t so much for me.  Your Uncle Greg was always pretty easy-going, so it didn’t seem to bother him.

Your Uncle Kenny hated it.

Aside from the cost of living being so high in St. Charles, I think the primary reason that we moved was that your Uncle Kenny was always getting in trouble with the law.  He was only fourteen and was already getting into fights all over the neighborhood we lived in, Powell Terrace.  Fists and knives were the weapons with which he was proficient and your grandparents feared that he might kill somebody or be killed.

In 1978, while visiting Grandpa Chuck’s parents, we discovered that there was a house for rent up the road from them.  Add in a job opening at the saw mill that was at the end of their country road and Grandpa Chuck was bound and determined to move.

I don’t remember whose vehicle I road in but I do know Grandpa Chuck, who had no patience for Kenny’s rage, made him ride with Grandma Pat, who had unlimited patience.

The house that we moved in was a three bedroom house that had, MANY years before, been a country store.  It wasn’t in the best of conditions, from what I remember.  I can remember playing in the living room floor while the adults and teens were painting the walls.

The land that we lived on was four acres.  We had a number of different blackberry and raspberry bushes, along with a wild strawberry patch.  I can remember walking around those bushes to pick blackberries, also walking up and down the road and doing the same.  I would carry a paper bag but, for every one berry that found its way into the bag, two would end up in my mouth.  That was the neat thing about wild berries.  You didn’t have to worry about insecticides and having to wash them before eating them.

Eventually, the landlord offered to sell your grandparents the house and land for the grand price of $7000.  He even offered to allow them to make payments at a low interest rate.  After your Great-Grandpa Winfred parked a camping trailer on the land, they ended up borrowing a lump sum from him to pay it off.  Then they paid him back at zero interest.

Over the course of our time there, your Grandpa Chuck left the saw mill and went to work on the river.  Your Uncle Kenny met his first wife and moved her into a camping trailer on the land before marrying her in 1995.  Uncle Greg began a tempestuous, on-again-off-again, relationship with woman who would eventually become his wife and Jaimilee’s mother.

And then there was the antenna.  But that’s a story for next time . …

Legacy Blog #7 Grandpa Chuck’s Earlier Ailments

My Beloved Daughter,

The sheer number of your grandpa’s hospitalizations almost became a humorous farce in his later days.  Whenever he would come down with pneumonia (complicated by his emphysema), we would have to take him to the hospital.  As the nurse would check him in, she’d ask him to verbally list his past hospitalizations.  By the time he had finished the list, everyone in the room was laughing so hard that they were in tears.

Grandpa was almost proud of some of his pains.  When he was younger (before he met your Grandma Pat), he fell off of a three-story building, breaking his jaw and his leg.  He also knocked enough of his teeth out of his mouth that they had to pull them all and he had dentures for the rest of his life.  I can remember how he’d stick his bottom teeth out at us kids, causing fits of childish giggles.  Like his father, Grandpa Chuck was playful towards children.  I can remember him sticking his bottom dentures out at you and you had the same reaction.  Regarding his hospitalization for that fall, he would tell us that the nurses would come in and wake him up so that they could give him something to help him sleep.

When I was around three years of age, I remember us visiting my dad’s parents.  It couldn’t have been long before we moved down there.  Anyway, he took my cousin, Mark’s, dirt bike (kind of a small motorcycle) for a ride up the old country road that they (and, eventually, we) lived on.  The ride should have taken just a few minutes.  After about half-an-hour, your Grandma was ready to go looking for him when he came walking down the road.  I remember him holding his arms folded across his chest, like he was deep in thought.  But he was holding his shoulder, like it was hurting.

He had flipped the bike and broken his collarbone.  We had to drive around to numerous medical clinics to find one who would accept someone without insurance (remember how the Union got him fired?).  The bone didn’t set properly and he always had a bump there, even later in life.

Another medical issue he had, when I was just a little older, was his hernia.  I was in elementary school when he hurt himself at work on the boat, having to have surgery to fix the tear in the lining of his stomach.  I remember how much pain he was in whenever I would sit on his lap before the surgery.  I’d get an “Ow, son!”  But he wouldn’t make me get up.

Over the course of these writings, I’m going to be discussing Grandpa Chuck’s health, as it had such an effect on my childhood.  The fact that he worked until his health was shattered just serves to remind me how much he loved his family.

Legacy Blog #6 Hussmann and the Labor Union

My Beloved Daughter,

Your Grandpa Chuck worked as a foreman at Hussmann in the mid-1970s.  I don’t know much about what he did.  Here’s what I do know:

Sometime after I was born, the labor union wanted a raise of a nickel for the employees.  In the 1970s, that would have been a pretty big raise.  The higher-ups explained that they couldn’t afford the raise at that time.

Needless to say, the union bosses weren’t happy about this.  They called for a strike.  Your Grandpa, who was making enough already to support a family of five without your Grandma Pat having to work, voted against the strike.

He was outvoted.

The strike caused him to not be able to work, as members of the union couldn’t cross the picket line.  Hussmann just brought in temps to do the job for less than they were already paying your Grandpa.  Then, they “busted” the union (a term your Grandpa used . . . I don’t know if that’s a proper term).  Everyone lost his and her job (including your Aunt Bonnie’s husband, Uncle Patrick).

Your Grandfather understood something way back then about artificially raising the working wage.  He understood that forcing an employer to pay more than they can afford will cause them to make hard decisions.  We see that now, as cities like Seattle, WA, and Washington, D.C., are seeing businesses being forced to close when those cities enforce the raising of minimum wage.

But, back to the story at hand.  I don’t really know what your grandfather’s political views were.  I do know that he never trusted unions again.  He considered them bullies who were only doing what they could to get the employee’s money.

 

Legacy Blog #5 Patricia Ann Davis

My Beloved Daughter,

You’re Grandma Pat was an incredibly special person.  Rarely ever did she speak badly about anybody.  I only recall her ever arguing with your Grandpa Chuck one time (over your Uncle Kenny, I think).  While Grandpa wasn’t particularly affectionate, she had more than enough for both of them.  And she was always able to draw affection from him.

Patricia Ann Davis was born on February 1, 1946.  It may have been February 2.  You see, she was never issued a birth certificate as a child, so the first was the accepted assumption.  In fact, she didn’t get her birth certificate until after GG died.

My mother was an adorable, affectionate child.  Raised with her siblings in near poverty, she and her siblings gained a closeness that I rarely see in other families.  Her imagination soared through her childhood and she loved to sing and perform for her family.  When she was a child, GG and Grandpa Winfred were approached by a talent scout to take Grandma Pat to Hollywood.  Despite the fact that it would potentially allow the family so much of what they needed, Grandpa wouldn’t allow his baby girl to be used in such a way and see her childhood destroyed.  Perhaps he realized that it could have changed her into something else.  She might not have grown to be the loving, free-hearted woman who we knew.  And none of us would be here.

At fifteen years of age, she married Bobby Davis.  The man was no relation to you or me but was the father of your Uncle Kenny and Uncle Greg.  She dropped out of high school in the ninth grade to marry him.  I think the marriage lasted less than three years.  He was unfaithful to her, although she held him no ill-will in later years.  After that, she was married two more times—to Tink and Jim—before finally meeting your Grandpa Chuck.  I already discussed how they met in my last entry.  I will add that the friend who introduced them actually tried to break them up.  “I didn’t expect you to marry him!” the woman had told her.

Grandpa wanted to move in with your Grandma in 1970.  Despite her three divorces, she had enough of an old-fashioned attitude to tell him that she wouldn’t do so unless he put a ring on her finger.  So, on July 17, 1970, they went to the home of a Baptist preacher in Kennett, MO, and got married.

I was born five years later.  She worked as a nurse’s aide up until I was born (and a little after), before quitting to be a stay-at-home mother and homemaker.  As your Grandpa worked on the river for the majority of my childhood, I was with Grandma Pat all the time and, quite honestly, became quite a momma’s boy.  Before we moved to Campbell, I didn’t really have any friends outside of school, so it was mostly Grandma Pat and me.

Over the years, every friend that I had grew to envy me for my mother.  The woman had more love than any one person knew what to do with.  My friends always got hugs and kisses when they visited.  Your cousin, Trina, wanted to move in with us.  Her mother wouldn’t let her but she spent weeks at a time with us in the summer.  So did your cousin, Dan.

After your Grandpa Chuck got sick and wasn’t able to work anymore, Grandma Pat started working at an onion ring factory in Piedmont, MO.  She worked there until she wasn’t able to work anymore.  After Grandpa Chuck died, she and GG moved in with your Uncle Greg and me in Springfield.  Then, she and I got the apartment in Nixa.  Finally, we ended back up in St. Charles.

After Vickie and I got married, she moved into that mobile home with Aunt Ruth, then another apartment with your Uncle Kenny.  The landlord there didn’t like Kenny, so the two of them ended up down in Puxico.  Finally, Uncle Greg moved them to Poplar Bluff.

She came up to stay with us any time you had a break from school.  She adored you so much.  The last time that we saw her, you recorded that video of her dancing.  You had no way of knowing the treasure that this video would turn out to be.

As of this writing, tomorrow will be the year anniversary of her stroke.  On August 19, 2016, I ignored a call from your Uncle Kenny because I was too tired to answer it.  Half an hour later, he called me on her phone, knowing that I never ignored her calls.  He was a blubbering mess and I couldn’t understand what he was saying.  Uncle Greg, also upset, finally got on the phone and told me that they had found her, vomiting in the floor.  As she was able to give the paramedics her age, we thought it was a minor stroke.  Vickie and I drove down and she was talking to us.  The last words that I heard from her were that she loved me.

Sometime during that night, she stopped communicating.  Another test showed that the left side of her brain was dead and the right side was dying.  Greg and I tearfully signed the non-resuscitation order.  Your mother, pregnant with your baby brother, drove you down to the Bluff to say goodbye.  Then, on August 22, 2016, she left this world with one final breath that she took with a loud gasp as she sat up in the bed.

I pictured her giving Jesus more affection at that Pearly Gate than He had probably gotten from any other member of the Elect since His Resurrection.   Then, she found your Grandpa Chuck, GG, and Grandpa Winfred and showered them with affection.  And she’ll be waiting with arms open when we get there, too.

Brother Phil Tanner, the pastor who led your Grandpa Chuck and me to Jesus, preached her funeral, reminding us that we haven’t lost her.  We know exactly where she is.

I see so much of her in you.  Your imagination, love of singing and dancing and affection are all results of her influence.  You uploaded that video of Grandma Pat to your YouTube channel.  Millions of users are there, so she got her opportunity to be a star.  That was the greatest gift you could have given her.

Legacy Blog #4 George Charles Davis

My Beloved Daughter,

You probably don’t remember him.  But your Grandpa Chuck adored you.

George Charles Davis was born on March 6, 1942, in Benton Harbor, Michigan.  His state of birth was a part of how we described him.  Your Grandma Pat, a Southern woman, through and through, always referred to him as her “Yankee husband.”  The funny thing is that I didn’t know what city he was born in until we were preparing for his funeral.

Your grandpa was married, before he met your grandma, to a woman named Lawanda.  Actually, I’m not sure how to spell her name.  What I remember most was that she was a red-headed woman who was quite pretty.  My paternal grandmother still had Grandpa’s first wedding picture when I was a teenager.  Grandpa once discussed his reason for divorcing her.  He was convinced that she’d had an affair.  I don’t really know.  I do know that they never had children.

Grandma Pat was introduced to Grandpa Chuck by a mutual friend in the late 1960s.  He took her out for a soda and asked her out on a real date that evening.  She told him that she already had a date with a relatively well-known local singer named Terry Ray Bradley.  So Grandpa kissed her.  Grandma said it was the most amazing kiss that she’d ever received and she told him that she would go out with the first man to show up.  Grandpa Chuck was there, bright and early.  Terry stood her up.

Go figure.

Cousin Christie says that all of my older cousins, who were already born when he came into the picture, adored Grandpa Chuck.  He had a way of making the kids all feel safe.  He also had a way of encouraging hard work in those who knew him.

When he married Grandma Pat on July 17, 1970, he didn’t adopt your Uncle Greg and Uncle Kenny.  After all, their dad (and her first husband) had the same last name.  They were no relation.  But your grandpa raised them as his own.  And they loved him.

Five years later (March 2, 1975), I came along.  My birthday’s four days before his and he had jokingly told your grandma that maybe I’d wait to be born on his birthday.  The way she told him that she was in labor was simply, “Well, hon, he ain’t gonna wait for your birthday.”  He wanted to get her right to the hospital that morning, but she knew that they wouldn’t let her smoke, so she waited until late that evening.  I was born after 10 PM.  Grandpa Chuck looked through the window at me in the room where they kept the newborns and I, apparently, started crying.  “Son,” he said, “Daddy didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Over the years, Grandpa spent most of his time working.  He was an interesting mixture of his parents.  He was playful, like Grandpa Wes.  He was not so affectionate, like Grandma Pauline.  It absolutely vexed him that your Grandma and I weren’t ticklish.  His replacement was playful pinching.  He’d pull Grandma Pat’s big toe and I’d hear her playfully yell, “Jeffrey, your dad’s hurting me!”  I knew he wouldn’t really do anything to hurt her, though.  He adored her.

He would be gone on the boat for thirty days at a time, working on ammonia barges.  He was supposed to be moved off of them after five years and into a different position.  But he was so good at his job, they drug their feet in moving him until he had contracted emphysema working in the fumes.  After the owner of the company that he worked for retired, the owner’s son took over.  He and your Grandpa Chuck didn’t like each other and they trumped up an excuse to fire him after so many years of service.

Over the years, your Grandpa was in and out of the hospital for various reasons.  The nurses at the ER in the hospital in Poplar Bluff had our address memorized.  He had specific nurses who always welcomed him by name.

Through it all, as much as he loved your cousins, Jaimilee, Kody and Sarah, he wanted a direct descendant.  He adored your mother and, since we got married on March 4, considered her his birthday present that year.  After the wedding, any time that we would drive to Van Buren to visit my parents, he would ask your mom if she was pregnant.  When she would say no, he would motion to my old bedroom and say, “Get back there and get busy.”

By the time you were born, his health was so bad that he had a hospital bed in the trailer where he lived with your Grandma Pat.  His lungs had gotten so bad that he couldn’t walk three feet without resting.  But he held out until he had seen you and, hopefully, left some memory of himself with you.

On a Wednesday afternoon in late September of 2006, you and I were watching a cartoon and you randomly looked at me and said, “Grandpa’s going home.”  Later that evening, your mother, you and I went to Taco Bell for dinner.  We came home to find out that he had passed away in the hospital that day.  You, not quite three years of age, hugged me as I wept and told me, “It’s going to be okay, daddy.”  I remember crying myself to sleep in the dining room floor that night.

As your Grandpa had always told us that he wanted to be buried with Grandma Pat, he was cremated . . . but not until after the funeral.  In the casket, your country boy grandpa lay in his bib overalls.  He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

To give your mother and me a chance to mourn, your Grandma and Grandpa Lingle, along with your Uncle Terry and Uncle Steven, came down for the funeral and slept in a tent in my parents’ front yard.

I miss your Grandpa Chuck terribly.  I sometimes find it unfair to see all of these people who are in their fifties and sixties who still have their fathers.  But I’m so thankful for the thirty-one years that I did have with him.  And I am definitely grateful for the ethic that he instilled within me.  I don’t doubt that I was truly blessed by God with an amazing father.

Preview #5 of Book Five of the ADVENTURE CHRONICLES

 

Jamie felt lightheaded.  His stomach was doing acrobatics in his abdomen and the thought of standing up terrified him at the moment.

What is wrong with me?  He glanced up at Bill, who was talking to a girl who was wearing a Jameston Camels shirt and holding a can of beer.  At least, the young ninja thought that it was beer.  He found that he could not focus on it very well.

The bartender seemed to notice that Jamie was looking at them.  “Can I get you another tea?”

Jamie had lost count of how many glasses that he had imbibed.  “No,” was all he could say.  Did the way that he was feeling now have anything to do with his beverage?

At this point, Maria stumbled into his field of vision, nearly falling over him.  She glanced up at him with a smile that was suddenly replaced with a look of bewildered concern.  “You don’t look so good,” she commented.

“It . . .,” he found speaking extremely difficult, to say the least, “it only matchesh how I f . . . uh, feel.”

Maria straightened up to her full height.  Jamie faintly realized that she must be able to handle liquor very well to be able to do that, considering how much she had drank.  She reached down and grabbed the young ninja’s glass from the bar and sniffed it.  “What’s in here?” she demanded of Bill.

“Long Island Iced Tea,” returned the barkeeper with a chuckle.  “He really needed to loosen up.”

Star’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the man.  “How dare you make that decision!  Don’t you even have the faintest idea what a designated driver is?”

“He didn’t seem to mind all the time he was drinking it,” retorted Bill.

“He’s never drank alcohol before!” raged Maria.  “He couldn’t tell the difference, you idiot!”

“Get over it!” he snapped.  “He looked like he wasn’t having a very good time.  He’ll thank me in the morning!”

Through the fog that was blurring everything in Jamie’s head, the young ninja felt a slight pang of anger.  He had absolutely no willpower to act upon it, though.

Maria was still arguing with Bill.  “He’s not having fun, so you spike his drink and make sure he gets so sick that he can’t talk?  Are you always this stupid?!”

Maria leaned over and helped Jamie to stand.  He had barely any control over his legs, so she wrapped his right arm around her neck and started helping him toward the set of stairs that led to the second floor.  “Heather!” she called and the hostess looked up from where she was dancing in the midst of a group of college men.  “I’m taking my usual room!”

Then Star turned back to Bill.  “As for you, Jamie will not thank you in the morning!  If I were you, I’d be gone by the time he wakes up.”

“What’s he gonna do to me?” he asked, looking at Jamie contemptuously.

“Let’s just say you’re lucky he doesn’t have his ninja sword with him,” she returned.

Bill’s eyes widened.  “Wait!  You mean he’s that ninja friend of yours?!”

Star nodded.  “He’s also religious.  So he’s not gonna be happy that you tricked him into getting drunk.”  Then she turned and the two of them started ascending the stairs.