Post by Deleted on Apr 27, 2021 9:20:18 GMT -7
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Sunday
April 18th 2021
Thunder Ministries HQ
It was the third Sunday of April and Tara Cynthia Thunder (the third and youngest of the Thunder siblings and these days the head of operations in the “family business” which was the non-profitable completely charitable organization known as Thunder Ministries.) Was making her usual rounds in the headquarters, the largest establishment of their organization which included a place to hold services, main offices and even residence for some of the higher ranked members. Such as Tara, her brother Luther (along with his wife Esme) and some of the officers in charge of daily operations. She had grown used to living here instead of her home in Tampa, Florida which she actually had given her brother Nathan as a place of residence. Tara kept paying for the utilities and bills just in case Nathan ever needed a place to stay.
Of course being on the road meant Nathan did not have that much of a chance to get back there but she still liked to think that her brother needed at least a place he could call home. While it was obvious that taking help from the kid of the siblings would be tough for either of her older siblings, it was especially tough for a loner like Nathan who had been used to live on his own in his own world for a while now. The trio of them had once been close, as close as siblings could be actually. Luther the eldest was a protector to the two younger ones and Nathan, the middle one was probably the nicest of them, growing up he used to bring home sick or hurt animals from around the woods and countryside of the farm the family owned. Which was an odd thing for anyone but especially a woman like their mother since Ma was the sole provider and eyes on the three while their father Damien Dallas Thunder toured around the world.
It was the father’s inspiration maybe even part of it came from his genes that drove all three of his children to the profession, First Luther who started just building up a body and bouncing doors around the establishments in the notorious Red Light District of Amsterdam, the capital of their native country. Luther adapted to the business rather well, made quite the impression usually siding with those in power and worked his way from one championship to other as the go-to choice from being the boss’s problem solver to the gatekeeper to main event, all the way to putting people in line. Nathan chose his own route as he usually did with everything, he wanted to be more of a high flying extremist, fascinated by the more violent and cruel side of wrestling. Which made very little sense since it clashed with his overall personality and being in every possible way. Tara and so many others believe that Nathan and the change to him occurred around the time of his “accident” It happened when Tara was still very young but she did remember hearing murmurs and hushed up mentions of the things. Something about a local bully who had assaulted Nate with some horrible consequences. Luther, being the protector of the trio had solved the situation the best way he could, by beating the ever-loving shit out of the person responsible. Wildest rumors claimed that the bully had been paralyzed or killed as a result, Tara didn’t know the truth of those things. Nathan didn’t remember much and Luther didn’t even mention it. She knew that the bully did not return to school since and nobody seemed to know what happened to them.
Later Tara, who much to their mother’s disappointment had shown more interest in the wrestling aspect of the family heritage than being a fashionable and respectable socialite managed to badger her father and both of her brothers to help her out with the training. Getting her started. She managed to make it fairly far, clenching a damn near deathgrip on midcard level championships and a hall of fame status, sadly her one true shot at the top championship came with a failure and, some say she never fully recovered from that. Now Tara was retired if anyone asked, but kept training regularly, kept herself ready just in case, one of these days the right kind of offer would happen.
Since their younger years the siblings had many fights amongst each other, usually pitting one against the other two. Luther and Nathan did not speak to each other at all these days outside of some snide remarks on social media. Tara had originally sided with her favorite brother Nathan against Luther who saw himself as the biggest and best star in the family. However some years ago Tara was kidnapped a short time before her contract to the female wrestling organization she was part of ran out...that followed a dark and hazy time she would rather not think of, it all ended in a blazing inferno where Luther, ever the protector risked his own life saving her, even attempting to go back to the blaze to save the very person responsible...but the flames were too much. What was salvaged from the ruins were nonsensical, only sure proof was that whoever had died in the fire was not who they claimed to be, no one truly seemed to know who he had been, nor care. Tara had her own issues trusting people to begin with, given how earlier in her life she had been “treated” for some psychological issues she claimed non-existent to begin with. Those methods and the consequences of the very treatments left her a bit of a mental mess as she would put it, very mildly. That all following with the focus to her career, failure to capitalize the biggest prize, to prove she was every last bit as good as her brothers and better...followed with the events in the desert. It was her saving grace that Luther, the protector had brought her “home” to the Ministry he had set up.
All those years Luther worked hard, fought from one place to another, putting his body and life on the line along with his reputation. Siding with some of the sheer sinister scum of the business, people hated him, belittled, mocked and jeered him..and what did he do? Tara looked around the place as she walked on her inspection. Luther had built a home, a sanctuary for all those who needed it. People who were broken, who were mistreated and misguided. A place for all the lost souls to seek salvation and guidance to their lives. For the very people society and so many others forgot existed: people like her.
“Miss Thunder..”
A cautious hand on her shoulder startled her as she turned to see one of the new recruits, someone who had just started out with the lower threshold project. Tara couldn’t remember her name, she tried, God. Luther should be here, he was always so good with names. Seemed to know every damn janitor and gopher around by the first name, people loved him because he had such an aura about him, maybe they too saw him as a protector.
“Yes, what is it?”
The young girl, whatever her name, seemed somewhat frightened herself.
“I’m sorry to disturb you Miss Thunder, it’s just that. ..that man is there again.”
Yes, for a while now, there had been a man, on his own, silent and somewhat off putting who had showed up to the premises of Thunder Ministries, and there were those who felt that there was something scary about him, something in the air when he was around. Yet he never did anything or said anything to warrant or justify such assumptions. Tara looked at the girl who seemed uncomfortable about saying what she wanted to say.
“Well, get Brother Holland and his boys to handle it..alright?”
She stood there, yes a girl more than a woman in Tara’s eyes, biting her lip.
“Miss Thunder, I can’t..he hasn’t done anything and this place. Well it’s for everyone, right? Brother Holland is...well you know how he is.”
Brother Holland, someone Tara wasn’t fond of much either was the head of security at Thunder Ministries, whenever a “situation” arose that needed to be handled rather swiftly and in the less than Christian way, Brother Holland himself or some of his chosen ones were there to deal with it. Luther said it was to keep most of the staff safe. So they could focus on the “more important things” but Tara felt that there was something about Brother Holland that Luther knew full well, qualities that made the head of security and his appointment to the position less than the blessing it was described as.
“..you are absolutely right sweetheart. Thunder Ministries is for everyone. Maybe we don’t need to disturb Brother Holland with this, where is this man? I’ll go see if I can talk to him myself.”
The girl seemed relieved. Smiling at Tara.
“He’s just sitting there in the service room, sitting in the pews. You can’t miss him. I mean he’s the only one there, everyone else left already and..”
Oh god she was starting to babble on nervously, Tara wanted to slap her just to stop it, not hard but enough to prevent the flood of nonsense. Instead she clenched her digits just a slight. She used to be so good throwing a discus punch. Shocked Tara realized she could probably knock this poor girl out cold with one such punch if she wanted, she cleared her mind of such thoughts.
“Yes, I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll get on it right away, what was your name darling?”
She looks at Tara.
“Mary, it’s Mary, Miss Thunder.”
Tara took a small breath, calmed her mind, trying to put on her best Luther impersonation of the face and voice he had done so many times to reach people. Laying her now unclenched hand on Mary’s shoulder.
“Thank you Mary, you truly did the right thing. God is proud of you little sister. Now go have a blessed day, get something from the kitchen. Take some home if you want and if anyone asks...tell them to come to me.”
She left Mary flustered, trying to stutter out a thank you but before she could manage that. Tara was already well on her way down the hall. She had become rather quick in her movements even if the pantsuits and pumps didn’t do her justice like her ring gear and boots probably would have. Sure it had been some years since she had been in the ring but she felt like she was in better shape now, not drinking or eating anything but the right kind of diet. Tara felt like she could take on anyone in the ring and if she couldn’t there was always God and Brother Luther, if one of them wouldn’t sort out whatever foe she would face, it must have been the devil himself.
She chuckled with the ludicrous notion of ever facing the dark lord himself, not as long as she stayed in this sanctuary, noi devil, demon or creature of the depths would ever risk being caught in the premises of such a holy place. Enough with the jokes Tara, you have to respectful, you are about to meet this mysterious man so many had told you about, someone you still can’t put a face to. Be humble, be polite and things will be alright.
Tara made it to the service room, stained glass windows, few altar paintings, rows of pews for the people to sit in and of course the altar along with the pulpit that was built in yet something Luther objected using most of the time, didn’t want his flock to think he would position himself above them...Tara smirked, it was odd how few people thought Luther was so smug and selfish yet would worry about such things. Then she saw him, this disheveled looking slumped down figure, leaning forward to a pew. Getting closer Tara’s soft steps barely made a sound sinking to the carpet, she looked at the slumped up figure: it had not moved, was this person asleep?
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother you but...could I do anything to assist you?”
She asked, her voice as soft and non-threatening as possible. Wanting to reach over to touch this person yet something held her back, she could smell the stale sweat, unwashed clothes and something else on the person...was that liquor?
Slowly, the figure turned. Tara saw the unshaved face of an older man, well into his midlife years, probably closer to the late afternoon to early evening of the day of his life. He squinted at her, Sitting up a bit straight his voice was cracked, hoarse, if Tara had to guess due to cigarettes and alcohol..one of god’s special little creatures, truly down on his luck. There were so many of them. She shuddered to think how different Brother Holland’s approach would have been in this situation.
“I’m sorry, it’s just been a while since I had a chance to sit down in peace. Just to be alone and safe with my thoughts and him..”
The man nodded at the picture of Jesus Christ, crucified and bleeding on the cross.
“No need to apologize brother. Thunder Ministries is open for all and we are here to help everyone..speaking of..”
Tara looked at the man’s appearance and he seemed a bit embarrassed by her eyes.
“Is there..anything you would require help with? We do have food services here, get you a hot meal, maybe a shower and some clean clothes to leave with..if you don’t have a place to go we have some rooms for..”
He jumped and moved back on the pew putting up his hands. Tara could see those hands shaking a bit.
“Oh no,no no. I’m fine. I don’t need a thing..please. I was just hoping to speak with the good pastor himself..”
Doing her best not to let it show on her face Tara got suspicious, very few referred to Luther so formally. Those who were regulars spoke of Brother Luther and the less acquainted stuck with Mr. Thunder.
“Brother Luther?”
The old man nodded.
“Yes, please. I’ve heard some of his sermons and nothing personal to you my dear, but I don’t think the kind of things I have to tell him are fitting for a lady..”
Now he seemed suspicious.
“I..am allowed to say that aren’t I? I mean, I’m an old man and the world seems to have changed to such a strange place lately. Not sure what can or can’t be said without offending anyone. I mean it’s not none of my business if you aren’t or if you are..oh darn. I’m sorry maybe I should just.”
He starts to stumble up, Tara saw his legs shake as the man fell back down on the pew with a moan.
“Darn, not as flexible as I used to be..look I’m terribly sorry, just. If you could give me a hand and I’ll be off.”
He reached a hand at Tara, she second guessed maybe a second too long before taking it firmly and helping him up.
“It’s quite alright. No harm done. I’m sorry if you feel uncomfortable talking to a woman, but my broth--I mean Brother Luther is not here today. He is actually wrestling in New Orleans so if you won’t talk to me I could suggest some of our other people..”
The old man stood up and looked at Tara bit more, his dark eyes taking notice of her.
“Your brother huh..yeah. I can see that I suppose. Was it New Orleans you said? And wrestling? I’m sorry, these old ears can’t seem to hear as good as they used to.”
He apologetically gestures to his ears and tries to smile at her, which she immediately wished he wouldn’t have. The yellow teeth or that breath, she couldn’t decide which was worse, but she couldn’t push him a way since the shaky grip of the old man was still around her hand.
“Yes, Brother Luther is..actually my brother. I am Tara, Tara Thunder. He is sadly in New Orleans wrestling tonight so he wasn’t here for the service himself and..haven’t you heard of him or me? Are you a wrestling fan yourself, sir?”
The old man cackles and shakes his head.
“No, not really, can’t say I am. I just wanted some words with the good pastor. Been here a few times hoping to catch him one of these days, thought that he would be in the house of the lord on a sunday of all days, but he’s wrestling..huh, imagine that. I guess God needs his representatives more in the squared circle than churches these days..”
“Where was that sir?”
She asked and he cackled again, shaking his head.
“Oh don’t you mind me darlin’ just babbling on to myself. So used to being on my lonesome that I talk to myself just because that way someone would hear..I guess it’s better I get going”
He pulls away and for a blink Tara felt like reaching for his palm, to pull him in for a squeeze, to give at least some hope to those sad eyes, to that lost lamb who seemed to be ready to abandon it all.
“Hey, wait.”
The man stopped, didn’t look at her, just stood there.
“You do know God always listens, right?”
She heard a scoff
“I guess it’s true what they say..you turn to God when nobody else listens. That’s funny, real funny. My best to the pastor..”
He started to stumble his way to the doors, Tara noticed him dragging one foot a bit, soft dragging sounds along with that hoarse cackle. Did he chuckle or was that a way to mask a cry.
She waited long enough to be sure the old timer had made it outside, before reaching for her phone, picking a number and waiting.
“Luth, it’s me. Call me when you get this, we need to bring you home. I think there’s someone here who needs your help...bad.”
She ended the call pocketing her phone, thinking back to all that she had learned from the discussion with this old man. In hindsight she thought maybe this would have been better left to the capable hands of Brother Holland after all.
Then again, who really deserved treatment like that? Mary, that poor lil’ lamb had said it best, this place is for everyone.
Even for lost souls like the one she had just met.