Sovereign: A Journey to Peace

The hair on the back of Melissa’s neck tingled just as a brilliant flash of lightning lit up the living room. The thunder that immediately followed reverberated throughout the house as she searched through the carton for a flashlight that was sure she’d packed. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a great idea she thought again for the hundredth time. Maybe I should have stayed in Chicago. Another flash of lightning foretold a crash of thunder seconds later. The lights flickered and threatened to go out. “If I don’t find that flashlight soon,” she said aloud, “I’m going to be stuck in the dark.” Just then a flare of lightning was followed immediately by deafening thunder and the lights did go out. Something banged outside, and the branches of the oak tree scraped the roof. “Where is that flashlight?” she cried in exasperation as she sat back on her heels.

The front door creaked. She jumped. Her pulse raced, and her chest tightened. I’m sure I locked that door, she thought wildly. Forgetting the flashlight for the moment, she raised herself on her knees and looked toward the entry way. Peering through the dark, she watched in fascinated terror as the door burst inward and a man silhouetted against the flashing lightning and driving rain stepped into the room. Maintaining her position behind the shelter of the couch, Melissa watched as he raised his flashlight and scanned the room. Holding her breath, she waited as the light brushed past her and then jumped when he demanded, “Who’s there?” Then again “I know there’s someone in here. Come out where I can see you.”

The words of her self-defense instructor came to mind. Act brave! Talk brave! Stay alive! Determined not be a victim, she scanned the room in her mind’s eye. Remembering the fireplace on the right side of the room, she scrambled frantically, stumbling toward where she pictured the poker waiting its stand. Fanning the air with her hands, she heard the clang of the irons before she could wrestle the first one out of its holder. She turned toward the intruder only to find he’d crossed the room and now stood towering over her, shining the light in her face.

Taking a deep breath, she challenged in her bravest voice, “Back off! I’m not afraid to do whatever I have to.” She stared at the man behind the flashlight willing herself not to show fear. Thankfully she realized it was working.

The man hesitated and then backed away one step and then another and another until the distance between them was more comfortable. He shined the light up into his own face and said, “Hold on. I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to know what you’re doing in Emma’s house.”

“Emma!” Melissa said in surprise. “Did you know my grandmother?” He seemed to take a moment to let the words to sink in.

“You’re Emma’s granddaughter?” His voice reinforced his surprise. “I beg your pardon, Miss. I didn’t know you were living here.” And then as if remembering her question said, “Yes I knew your grandmother. We were good friends. I’ve always checked on her. Even before …”

As he talked, Melissa watched his face. She tried to recall her grandmother’s remarks about her many friends, but didn’t remember her sharing about any close male friends, especially not one so much younger. But then Grandmother always said a few secrets made one much more interesting. Could this man be one of those secrets?

The storm continued to boil about the house and there in the living room of Emma Blakesly, a small tempest was brewing between Melissa and the stranger. She curbed her desire to chide him about barging in on her, still not sure of his identity or intent. She was about to invite him to leave when the storm door suddenly pulled loose of its latch and hammered back and forth between the porch wall and the door frame. Startled, she cried, “What next?”

Without answering, he crossed the room to the entry and secured the door back in place. “Man!” he said in the darkness, only the swing of his flashlight and the flashes from the storm marking his movement back into the room. “That is some storm. Good thing this house is sturdy.”

“Humph!” Melissa replied, her mind racing through possible scenarios. Who is this guy? How am I going to get rid of him? While she watched him across the room, she moved to keep the overstuffed chair was between them.

As if he could read her mind, he offered gently, “I am really sorry that I scared you. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” “She listened to his quiet words and could only think of the patronizing way others had spoken to her before. After a moment, she let go of her control and raged openly at him. “You barge into you didn’t mean to scare me. I certainly hope this isn’t Sovereign’s idea of a Welcome Wagon!”

My home in the dark, in the middle of a storm, and you say you don’t intend to hurt me? You have no dishonorable intentions? Melissa paused for a reaction and when one didn’t come, she continued. “People don’t break into other people’s homes if they are honorable. You claim to have known my grandmother, but you don’t tell me your name.” Melissa felt her indignant anger growing. All the hurts from the past seemed to gather in her heart and she directed the brunt of it all toward this man. “You come in here and scare me out of my mind during this awful storm and then you have the audacity to say you’re sorry and

He stood silently, head tilted down, his face covered in the shadows. Without a word he listened to her angry tirade until she finally sputtered to a stop. Holding up his right-hand palm forward, simply offered, “Peace.”