A Father's Gift

The Chessboard  - A Father's Gift

The only son was given a chessboard to play with by his father.

"Here, my son. Learn this board game so you will know how to rule one day."

His father came to him while he was seated alone in a chair with some animal plastic toys he was playing with, in the company of friends in spirit.

"Thank you, father."

Then a beautiful woman came after the father left. She was his mother.

"Please, my son, take care of it as if it is your life. It was created by your father himself. It was specially done for you."

His mother told him so. He promised he would and his mother left him alone with the chessboard.

The son started to study the sets contained in the gift. Around him everywhere flies his friends. Spiritual friends guiding him about every move. Not too long, he mastered the games perfectly,

He started to play as if he actually was playing with someone on the other chair in front of him. He himself was seated behind a squared table with four chairs.

One day, his father came to play with him. As they play, he starts to absorb everything that his father knows, without him realizing that that was exactly the intention of his father. Finally, his father stopped.

"Well, my son, I believe you're ready to face your own challenge."

He smiled at him.

"I believe so, Father."

So his father left him again and got out of the room.

As soon as he left, someone else, another boy his age of twelve, in his black clothes came in. He has a fierce, challenging look in his eyes.

"Here I am to challenge you. I beat you, the chessboard is mine."

These words he said and seated himself on the chair opposite to the son.

"Be my guest."

The son responded.

Then they started to play. It was a real time play off between them. All on their own.

The boy in black started to play unfairly from the start. He was using tricks and cheats, deception, manipulations like an expert social engineer of a modern day, aggressiveness and more to destroy the self confidence, self esteem, beliefs in his knowledge of what his father has taught the son. He never stopped with his lies as he never stopped talking while he played with him.

The son was calm, patient, kind and confident inside him as to what he had learned from his father. His faith for his father has never been moved by any of the intentions from his opponent. He just kept playing with his guest.

He focused his attention on the game before them, thus he silently saw, realized and prompted all the cheats and bad intentions through movements done on the chess sets of pawn, thrones, queens and kings.

He looked straight to his opponent.

"This chessboard is my world. This is a gift. This was given to me by my father. Whatever is given to me by my father, you can bet I love so much as I love my father. I will give my life to make sure no one nor you could ever steal or take it away from me."

Then the son finished the game.

"Check mate! You lose!"

The boy in black realized from the beginning that he will never stand a chance, reason for his cheats, against the son. He went on playing, anyway, because of his pride. He would never be someone who would receive defeat nor accept that he's the loser.

He abruptly stood from his chair throwing it to the floor in rage and fury. He shouted all kinds of insults and swears before the son.

"I swear I will come back and everything that is yours will be mine! Will be mine! Remember that!"

Then like a wind, the boy passed away from the sight of the son. 

Around the son, his spirit friends were singing.

"Halleluyah! Halleluyah! Halleluuuyah!"

Followed by quiet, sweet and joyous giggles by his angels.

The son just smiled at them, clasped his hands before him and his thoughts talking to his Father.

Coming Next! The Players

(To read: TAP the link above)

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

 

The Writer Stories Title Guide

 

THE WRITER STORIES TITLE GUIDE

                             (TAP Story title to read)

The Backpacker's Road

(Tap above to read)

Ika of My Heart

(Tap above to read)

The Deep Blue Sea

(Tap above to read)

The Little Ka

(Tap above to read)

The Six Candles

(Tap above to read)

The Chessboard

(Tap above to read)

Author: The Pen @bbayonito20

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

 

Oldie

 

The Backpacker's Road - Oldie

"Hello, Ladies!"

From our table, our caretaker, the administrator herself of the Home for the Aged, came to greet us as my friends and I  joined together in the same table to chat and play cards.

There with me were my twin friends from a beautiful family story in Ika of My Heart.

(To read: Tap the Ika of My Heart link to the story).

Joining us too, our kidnap victim friend from her story in Survived.

(To read: Tap the Survived link to the story).

Our taxi daughter friend too was present, always happy and proud of her story about her father's story in Watched.

(To read: Tap the Watched link to the story).

And our journalist friend, another proud daughter of her father, from her story in Survived 2.

(To read: Tap the Survived 2 link to the story).

"Hello, daughter!"

We all greeted her at the same time then cracked ourselves into laughter. One by one we choked with our saliva and coughed, but we kept on laughing at our "oldie" status.

We were all in our seventy's of age. By God's mercy, we aged together and were still alive! One thing we were all thankful for.

All around us were other oldies in their groups of friends and at their own tables. We were all friends actually, but we just have a closer group of friends.

Some younger ones were dancing tango and others were listening to music in another room. Some were watching movies in the theater room. 

My friends and I always preferred to be in the game room. We liked to lose ourselves in the playing cards for adults to enhance our memories, if not to recover it. Others swim themselves between mahjong blocks. Yes, I have friends who like swimming! Ha! Ha!

We called our daughter, administrator and caretaker as we simply could not remember her name at all.

"Well Ladies, your bible preacher has just arrived."

Then we looked back at her and we saw first her younger brother who ran the Home with her. Another man came from behind him.

"Luke!"

Everyone shouted except me. I was shocked. How could they recognize him and I failed?

My friends saw my face and laughed with each other.

"This is our surprise to you."

Our friend, the taxi driver's daughter, told me.

"It has been a week since we were hearing from him in the other room when you got sick."

One of the twins added.

"He would not want you to know. He wanted to see your reaction himself. He has changed since he left the jail. He has already told us his story. Now it is your turn to hear it."

Our reporter friend added more.

Luke was very old but still looked strong. He came closer to our table and from across he looked straight at me. 

"How are you?"

I could not respond.

Then all my friends stood up and left the table for us. Luke seated himself on a chair facing me.

"How did you get here?"

Luke placed his bible book on top of the table, clasped his hand together and smiled at me.

Strange to me, I did not feel anything. Just dumbness. I could not believe to see him again after all the years.

"I was doing my preaching ministry on a stage one day and that woman administrator you appointed to handle your business and  you call daughter came to approach me."

I sighed as I came to understand.

"After hearing my story, she approached me and invited me to come over. She told me that she might have known the people I was mentioning in my ministry. And she was right."

Our attention was interrupted as one by one all the caretakers were calling the oldies to come to the Home's Chapel, our small church inside the Home.

"You were sick when I first came. I was afraid of what seeing me could mean to you, so I asked them not to say anything until you have recovered and I, myself, will tell you my story.

I started to feel better as I felt relaxed, feeling sure that nothing I should fear about him. But then, my adopted daughter and Home administrator came to us.

"Come on Mommy, let us start."

She came with her brother, my adopted son too.

"Let's go Mr. Luke."

Both of them came to help us to get up and walk our way to the chapel.

At the church, he preached and at the same time mentioned his life story. He talked about how he came to know Jesus through His words and how he was changed.

After he finished his preaching, I needed not ask for him to tell me his story. He was a witness himself of God's forgiveness, mercy and salvation.

He came to me.

"Do you need more to know?"

He asked.

"No."

I smiled and waved goodbye as his driver came to pick him up outside the Home.

Everyone went back to what they were doing before the preaching and mass by the church's priest.

I joined my children in bading farewell to both preacher and priest by the Home's main door.

We were actually outside the Home where in front lies a little garden with planted flowers of tulips and roses.

I was getting tired of standing there outside the Home though the beautiful sunny sky was giving me strength through its soft warmth on my skin.

Looking up at the sky again, I saw the same light blue sky and dancing white clouds I have always enjoyed. They gave me something I could not explain that made my whole being feel like wrapped by that same warm blanket again. I closed my eyes and felt like a Newborn baby again.

This time I did not see a dove. I saw the clouds, that same door formed white clouds again. It was not half opened, but wide opened. Then that bright shining star from the inside came near the door.

I smiled with happiness.

"I am ready."

I whispered to myself. Then I fainted.

I wondered what happened next. 

My reporter/journalist friend's face was the next thing I saw.

"Well then, backpacker,  I have your story completed."

Another face came in before my eyes. 

"But why do you call it Backpacker's Road?"

It was another friend who asked me.

I laughed before I gave my answer and am amused about my light feelings of myself. I felt myself as if I was a wind.

"Because each stage of my life story was written in a different notebook inside my bag, my backpack. Inside my bag was a bible which I used as my life's guide as soon as I got hold of it. It was since I was rescued from my stepfather's hand and every time I was rescued from the traps of hell. I believe in my Saviour. I just believe."

It was what I responded.

"Well then my friend, you'll get your story title."

Then someone from somewhere interrupted us as followed by two more.

"But how can you publish that story? We are all now but spirits roaming around the Home for the Aged's garden."

I realized it was true as I remembered being the last one to join my five long time friends in their Home for the Spirits Club in the Home's garden. 

We all laughed and our sound came like a refreshing strong wind that passed the garden of the Home. 

All we got? A smile from the closed eyes of all those who were left behind. 

End of story.

 

 

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

Grown Up

 

The Backpacker's Road - Grown up

As always, the coffee shop, Starbucks, was full when I arrived. That was the reason why I made sure to myself earlier to our reunion. 

Fortunately, that little corner where my lifetime buddies and I have passed our update meetings was unoccupied. I went to it hurriedly and placed my two books on top of the six chairs table, as an indication to other customers that the table was taken. The table was just on the right hand side of the main counter where people ask for their orders, as the shop was a self-service business. So, I could order my coffee even before the arrival of my other friends.

I asked for my favorite coffee and seated myself on the chair against the wall so I could see whoever entered the shop. On my side, all the way to the main entrance door was a window glass. Outside the shop, there were also some chairs and tables for the customers who prefer to have their coffee and food by the street's wide sidewalk.

Getting myself comfortably seated while waiting, I smiled alone as I remembered the past.

It has been years since that tribute mass our friend who survived from human trafficking had left to live abroad. Every five years, she comes back to visit the country, relatives and friends.

"This is going to be the third time."

I commented to myself with happiness in my heart, anxious to see her again.

"What is going on inside that mind that makes those beautiful lips smile so sweetly?"

My sisters! The twins have just arrived and I did not realize it, as they seated themselves already with their coffees in their hands.

"I did not see you enter."

I replied without answering the question of one of them.

"You were looking outside the window when we entered. We saw you but did not call. We noticed you were deep in thought  while smiling."

Then the three of them laughed.

I hugged the twins lovingly. They have become my sisters as their parents have adopted me to become part of their family. Their parents Ika and Iko have sent me to school, just like the twins who later on became business women themselves, overtaking the successful family business. What their father loved to say aloud to us has been my favorite lines and left a memory in my brain. Ika of My Heart, was our father's favorite line.

(To read: Tap the Ika of My Heart link to the story)

While I was hugging my sisters, I saw two more friends entering the shop. They were the taxi driver's daughter and the reporter/journalist. I waved at them.

(To read: Tap the Watched link to the story series of the taxi driver's daughter)

(To read: Tap the Survived 2 link to the story of the reporter/journalist)

As both were going to the counter, the last friend who came from abroad just arrived.

"There she is!"

The three of us seated joined in chorus as we saw her. That made everyone in the shop turn their attention at the shop's entrance.

The protagonist of the Survived story, the survivor of human trafficking was stunned by surprise as to what her friends had done, who were then covering their mouth ending into laugher afterwards.

(To read: Tap Survived link to the story)

The other two friends on their way to the counter were the ones who recovered themselves first and went quickly to welcome and hug the friend who just arrived.

They brought her to our table to greet us then the three went together to ask for their coffee. 

Between laughs and excitement, we showed our happiness toward each other. Until each one managed to calm down and be seated.

"You look great as always. What have you been up to?"

Our friend, the taxi driver's daughter,  asked the first question as she looked at our friend. Our newly arrived friend was wearing a formal suit of women's attire in light grey.

"I just came from a meeting held at my mother's foundation for human trafficking survivors."

She answered our friend's question while smiling at her nice compliment.

"Do you still work as a financial consultant abroad?"

Our reporter friend asked.

"Yes! I work hard to finance the foundation. You all know what the foundation means to me."

All friends ascended to her in agreement as all sipped their coffees.

"How about you? What's your latest?"

She asked the rest. She was looking at me. I was seated in front of her. The  twins on her right and the other two were on her left.

"I run a Home for the Aged."

I responded.

"Great! We already have a place to go in our Oldies."

She exclaimed.

All of us laughed at the idea and started to joke with each other about what old life could be for us.

Then our reporter friend continued the story.

"The owner of that Home for the Aged was my father's friend."

She informed us.

"Yes, that's true. I have been lucky to have known all of you and have you all as my friends."

I continued.

"My husband, Peter, was a close friend of our reporter friend here. She and her father had helped with the story and case I got involved myself with, being a girlfriend of a drug lord's son. Thanks God it has been over."

I narrated as my reporter friend hugged me as she was seated closer.

"He gave me a new life after Luke was jailed along with the drug lords."

I paused. Then continued.

"I started to work in their family's Home for the Aged. I worked as a cleaner until I learned about the business and fell in love with him."

I said it with giggles that my friends laughed with me before continuing the story.

"His father, Jesus, was such a great father-in-law to me. He was a great man. He had helped many helpless old people, like that old man Jeremiah."

(To read: Tap the Believed 2 link to the story of Jeremiah)

"His first wife died of cancer. Then he married again. His wife's story was written too in my memory."

All my friends laughed at my last statement.

"Tell us how you titled that story?"

One of the twins asked me.

I paused for a while before giving them the answer.

"Yes. She was my mother-in-law. I titled it The Six Candles."

(To read: Tap the The Six Candles link to the story)

All of them clapped their hands to my title. As I paused, our taxi driver's daughter friend spoke for me.

"My father was still alone when your father-in-law died after Matthew, that's why I was convincing him to go for your mother-in-law."

Everyone laughed at her idea. Our friend was just showing how much she loves and is proud of her father.

(To read: Tap the Watched 3 link to the taxi driver's daughter story)

"It has been years since your son died."

One of the twins commented.

"Your son died?"

Our friend from abroad asked with sadness.

"A stepson, Matthew. He died in a car accident. Then my father-in-law followed. Now, my husband, Peter, is dying of cancer."

I responded to her.

(To read: Tap the  Believed link to the story of Matthew and Peter)

"Next!"

That was the reporter friend who broke the silence and drama in between us that shook everyone.

"What's next?"

One of the twins asked.

"Next story."

Our friend responded.

Then everyone laughed again, taking her comment as a joke.

The taxi driver's daughter cut it, though.

"No! Enough of stories for now. Let us talk about our men, our love story and our sexiest moments. Okay ladies?"

She raised her coffee cup in the middle of everyone to ask for a united cheer on her suggestion.

With giggles, excitement and laughter, we found a common agreement.

Then and there, the writer friend took her notes about everyone's till the next episode of their friend's Backpacker's Road story. 

Meanwhile, I was watching how a white dove was moving around on top of an empty  table outside the window, looking for pieces of food to pick on. Most of all, those clear blue skies with beautiful clouds have filled my heart, once again, with hope and happiness.

Check for more: Tap below

More  from Backpacker's Road Next: Oldie

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@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

Seen 3

Round One:      Seen

Round Two:     Seen 2  

Round Three:  Seen 3

The sound of the thunder woke him up suddenly. His eyes wide opened as he felt the big drops of rain in his body.

"What happened?"

The writer found himself in a strange place. All around him were fallen bodies. Dead people were almost covered with mud. They were all wearing grey clothes with long sleeves and that included him. But he was the only one who woke up.

"Where am I?"

He could only ask himself that question while slowly rising himself up to sit down.

As he finally seated himself up, he looked around. He was in the middle of a long and wide road full of dead bodies of all ages.

"Oh my God, what is this?"

In the very far distance, so far from him, ahead of the road, there was a glimmering light. Only that. The rest were dark surroundings, cadavers, thunders and bolts of lights from distances and growing drops, stronger rain falling on them.

"Wake me up! Wake me up!"

That was his call to his friend Gabrielle as he closed his eyes. But nothing happened as he opened his eyes again.

Instead, he heard music starting to play itself around him from somewhere he could not establish.

"The music of that song sounds familiar."

The music went on. Then he remembered that it made him smile.

"You'll never walk alone."

(To read: Tap You'll Never Walk Alone lyrics)

Slowly, he realized he was being lifted up by some force, gentle force that was giving him strength on his legs to stand up, in his spirit renewed as fear, confusions, anxieties and all negativities in him were disappearing.

He was able to stand from the ground with renewed strength in spirit and body. He felt alive again!

The feeling brought happiness in his heart. He tried to step forward but his feet were like pasted to the floor. Worries did not enter him as he started to witness something else was happening around him.

Walking through the bodies were ghost-like spirits that took a human form in cloudlike white colors.

From the ground, some dead people have opened their eyes and slowly lifted up their arms to the ghosts asking them for help as they spoke the word, "Lord, our God."

"They woke up and could see them."

The writer exclaimed. But a soft passing of the wind whispered something to him, which he could hear clearly despite the continuous sounds of raindrops, thunder bolts here and there from a distance, yet won over by the music around them.

The music gave out its lyrics as the dead people who woke up and rose were helped by the ghost-like spirits.

"When you walk through the storm, hold your head up high. And don't be afraid of the dark..."

Not all dead people were able to wake up. Those who made it, started to walk slowly as they hung themselves, their arm on the shoulder of the ghosts that had helped them to get back to their feet.

As some of them were passing beside him, he could only see the tired, sunken and defeated like faces of the risen people.

The glimmering light from afar started to brighten more as if giving energy to anyone who could see it, like the writer himself.

"My Lord, you are awesome!"

He smiled and praised the Light as he himself felt a renewed strength of faith, hope and disappearance of all fears, doubts and mistrust inside him.

"Walk on through the rain! Walk on! Walk on with faith in your heart..."

The writer tried again to move his feet. This time he could. Then he realized a ghost was standing beside him.

"You're an angel?"

He looked around those helping the people rise up from the ground. They were all angels as he then could see their wings.

"And that Light ahead of us is the kingdom of God."

The angel responded to him and disappeared from his sight.

A strong sound of the thunder woke him up as the writer saw a pile of draft papers and his pen below his face as he raised his gaze around him.

The writer straightened himself in his chair, yawned and tried to open his eyes more, as the only light he had in his bedroom was the table light he had on top of his writing table, beside the opened window. It was evening and the sky was giving a warning to the earth of a coming storm starting from thunder bolts it was giving as an alarm.

The writer just closed his window. After that, he added his latest written series to his folder SEEN.

(To read: Tap SEEN link to the series)

He started to hum and sing the song finally as he remembers his own father singing the song to him in a video he was watching before writing the story. 

 

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

Teenage

 

The Backpacker's Road - Teenage

The sun's heat, fortunately for us, wasn't giving a burning sensation to our skin as we waited patiently outside the church for the mass to start. A tribute mass to the mother of our firend, the once victim of human trafficking.

Standing under a shady tree on the side of the church, I was waiting with my other teenage friends.

Our friend friend from her own story in:

(To read: Tap the Survived link to the story)

had invited our mutual twin friends with their own story in:

(To read: Tap the Ika of My Heart link to the story)

and our sweet friend, the daughter of the taxi driver in her own story in:

(To read: Tap the Watched 2 link to the story)

and myself, in this story of my own.

While waiting, we were telling each other about our own story. Until the woman reporter, a journalist herself and became a  close friend of our teenage friend, whom she interviewed, came to join us.

She herself, the journalist, added her own story of:

(To read: Tap the Survived 2 link to the story)

Then came my turn to share a part of my own story in:

(To read: Tap the Disgraced 3 link to the story)

I was still in the process of recovery. All my friends came to hug me.

"Luke's father has led me to prostitution. It was the condition if I wanted to stay with Luke. And so I did whatever he asked me. Luke found out. He said he would make his father pay."

My narration was interrupted by my journalist friend.

"Where is he now? Where is Luke?"

I was released from the hugs of my friends as I faced to answer the question.

"Right after he found out, he disappeared. The next thing I knew, there was a raid by the police authorities. The business of his father was dismantled and he was arrested along with the others."

One of the twin's finished my story.

"And Luke was also arrested, because he was a drug dealer."

The woman reporter/journalist knodded to give her understanding of the story.

Then someone from the church made an announcement to enter as the mass would start soon. So we went in.

Then we saw the journalist friend moving toward a coming car. A man came out. She talked to him about something while grabbing his arm to walk together to the church, while turning their faces to us. She waved and smiled. The man looked at us, I believe especially to me for a moment, then tapped the hand of our friend with him.

I asked my friends.

"Who is he?"

The taxi driver's daughter answered my question.

"That is her father. A well known, good and honest police officer."

We continued walking towards the church. Looking up at the sky, I notice a white dove on top of the church's cross.

I sighed a heartfelt relief and smiled looking at the light blue sky with its beautiful dancing clouds as always. 

I said a line as I closed my eyes to see the face of the Lord.

(To read: Tap the Thank you, God link to the story)

Check for more: Tap below

More  from Backpacker's Road Next: Grown Up

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@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

Let The Music Play

This beautiful song dedicated to you:

"YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE" 

When you walk through a storm

Hold your head up high

And don't be afraid of the dark

At the end of the storm

There's a golden sky

And the sweet silver song of a lark

Walk on through the wind

Walk on through the rain

Though your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on walk on with hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone

You'll never walk alone

When you walk through a storm

Hold your head up high

And don't be afraid of the dark

At the end of the storm

Is a golden sky

And the sweet silver song of the lark

Walk on through the wind

Walk on through the rain

Though your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on walk on with hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone

You'll never walk

You'll never walk

You'll never walk alone

God be🙏with you.