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Just Love Everybody Father Tim Greg Ware .pdf



Nombre del archivo original: Just Love Everybody_ Father Tim - Greg Ware.pdf
Título: Just Love Everybody: Father Time is Running Out on Mother Nature
Autor: Greg Ware

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This is a work of science-faction. All of the
characters and organizations in this novel are
either products of the author’s imagination or
are historical figures.
Just Love Everybody
Copyright © 2016 by Greg Ware
All rights reserved
Published by Twinapath
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication
Data has been applied for.
Print ISBN: 978-0-9968607-2-7
eBook ISBN: 978-0-9968607-3-4

Second U.S. Edition: October 2016
Printed in the United States of America
No part of this publication may be reproduced,
distributed or transmitted in any form or by any
means, including photocopying, recording, or
other mechanical methods, without prior
written consent of the publisher, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical
reviews and certain other noncommercial uses
permitted by law.

Father Time is running out on
Mother Nature…

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Foreword by R.
Steven Lewis
1 Wednesday,
September 10, 2031
2

The Die is Cast

3 The Dawn of a
New Day

4 The Odyssey
Begins
5

In God We Trust

6 Let’s Get This
Party Started
7

The Wrath of God

8 Preparation for
Salvation
9 The Show Must Go
On
10 The Time Is Now
11 The End of the
Beginning
12 An Independent
Witness

13 The Rise of the
Phoenix
Epilogue - 2034
Acknowledgments
Meet The Author

FOREWORD BY R.
STEVEN LEWIS

The biggest question confronting
humans since the beginning of time is,
“Why are we here?” For answers, many
look to religion, while others seek
scientific explanations. In his own
search for meaning, our protagonist,
Jake Love proclaims, “I want to
follow the beacon of truth, wherever it

may lead.” Author Greg Ware produces
a creative tension by juxtaposing
parallel realities that compel the reader
to turn the pages as rapidly as possible,
with the hope of discovering “the
answer.”
Ware places people in situations that
force the collision of disparate
narratives, inducing the reader to
entertain plausible alternatives to
commonly held opinions. As mortals
interpret events that defy conventional
explanation, belief systems are formed
that, when reinforced by “leaders,”

cause groups to unify. Accordingly, some
organizations are likely the product of
man’s inability to comprehend or explain
such phenomenon; however, an essential,
foundational element of dogma requires
a literal leap of faith to ascribe the
unexplained to divine intervention.
Cognitive dissonance is defined as
the psychological conflict resulting from
simultaneously holding incompatible
beliefs and attitudes. In most religions,
historically,
miracles
were
commonplace. Ware introduces the
possibility that forces beyond our

comprehension - forces that defy our
earthly understanding – may be just as
credible. He manages to infuse a “human
interest and a semblance of truth” into a
fantastic tale, thus enabling the reader to
suspend judgment and enthusiastically
enter another realm. Just Love
Everybody takes the reader on a
rollercoaster of emotions, including
anxiety, hope, curiosity, and expectation.
And just when you think the ending is
headed in the direction of a fairytale,
well, let’s just say - Ware throws a
curveball that you will have to read to

believe.

The green-blue waves gently caress
the Pensacola shoreline, rolling against
sand bleached so white it certainly must
have been painted by God himself. An
idyllic location for a romantic
rendezvous, the beach hosts a party
that’s just getting started. The oversized
red and green striped blanket stretches

out towards the sea, anchored by a
sturdy rattan picnic basket on one end
and sandals on the other.
“Did you pack the BBQ sauce,
babe?” Jake pesters his captivating
sweetheart of the last two years as he
digs through the basket, loaded with
goodies for a mouth-watering feast.
“Of course, dear,” Sondra purrs
affectionately. “You can’t have the
yardbird without the sauce.”
Jake has been uncharacteristically
devoted to her ever since she got

transferred to the maternity ward, where
he’s a revered obstetrician. His enduring
creed was, “Never sleep where you
eat,” but serendipity intervened in the
form of a company dinner where he
found himself seated next to the
charming and alluring Sondra. Everyone
assumed they were on a date, and by the
time the apple cobbler was served, they
were!
The inner beauty, intellectual
prowess, and incredibly giving spirit of
this particular nurse instantly broke
down all of his inhibitions.

“Can I get another scoop of that
wicked mac and cheese?” he teases.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to the park
tomorrow to run it off.”
Sondra reaches for the plastic
container. “Honey, you never gain
weight, anyway. I’ll give you half a
scoop. Nothing is going to come
between me and that amazing four pack
of yours.” While handing him his plate,
she plants a kiss so suggestive it causes
his trunks to swell, and almost puts
dinner on hold. The picnic basket also

contains the indispensable libations that
he’s been yearning for all day. It’s past
time for some wine as she retrieves the
Villa Moscato D’Asti and pops the cork
before pouring them both a glass. Jake is
more than grateful and proposes a toast.
“Let’s raise our goblets to
commemorate this truly enchanting
evening.” Their crystal rings true as he
continues, “Feel the brush of the ocean
breeze,
painting
its
heavenly
masterpiece. With a full moon parked in
a starlit sky, you’ll never have to wonder
why. You mean the world to me, and I

come with a lifetime guarantee.” Jake
smugly smiles, quite proud of his
almost-clever wordplay that he spent
much of the morning composing. He
always dreamed of becoming a famous
songwriter, but that would take a tad bit
more talent.
The salad, grilled chicken, and
macaroni soon disappear, and the
lovebirds decide to walk off the
cholesterol while savoring a spectacular
view. They stroll hand in hand.
“How did that double delivery work

out this morning?” Sondra asks.
Jake pauses for effect and then
replies, “Well, the twins and mother are
doing fine. Although that second one, my
goodness! He was in a complete breech.
It was touch and go for a while, because
not only was the umbilical cord
wrapped around his neck, the amniotic
sac was punctured, and there was
significant compression. My perfect
track record was definitely on the line
today, but still I hope to retire
undefeated.”

“Damn, babe, you did it again.” She
sounds impressed, but she always does
when he talks about work. It’s one of the
many reasons he loves her. “How many
weeks was the mom?”
Jake does the math in his head as
they walk. “She had just made thirty-one.
In any event, this was her first child, and
you know how difficult those can be,
especially with protracted in vitro
twins.”
Sondra takes him by the shoulders
and gently turns his body westward

while cooing, “Close your
sweetie, and count to ten.”

eyes,

Jake obliges, except when he gets to
about eight, he feels a bone-chilling
splash of liquid on the back of his neck.
He swings around to see Sondra
kneeling at the water’s edge, cupping the
salty substance aggressively in her
hands. Jake realizes he’s in a water war
and she’s improved her accuracy, as he
has to duck the incoming deluge.
Deciding that the best defense is a strong
offense, he attacks while she reloads.
Taking one last round to the face before

they tumble into the surf, he fervently
kisses the lawless lips that have
hijacked his heart and kidnapped his
soul.
The water feels cool and refreshing,
yet the smooth magnetic curves of her
posterior draw more interest and
positively attract his wandering fingers.
Sondra readjusts her top as they emerge
from the sea, because somehow it’s now
firmly supporting her belly button. As
they frolic under the waves, they are
completely unaware of what’s occurring
countless miles above them, in space.

***
Kennedy Space Center
“This is Dr. Fleming. Are you guys
tracking this at JPL?” a balding, slightly
overweight curmudgeon grumbles on a
holographic conference call. The
recently completed circular wing
requires significantly less manpower, as
reticent Compubots make the necessary
calculations and adjustments. The 360degree, thirty-foot Holo-screen rotates to
mimic the earth’s orbit, enabling precise

analysis. A 3-D hologram follows the
physicist around the circumference,
posting data as he tracks the anomaly.
Dr. Louis Stevens, a battle-scarred
veteran of many incursions, is sweating
lasers. “Yes. This object just started
blowing up the radar, and we still can’t
triangulate an origination point. In
theory, that’s impossible. So it’s got
people over here on edge. More than
normal, as inconceivable as that
sounds.”
Dr. Fleming decides to badger his

colleague by suspiciously inferring, “Do
you consider this meteor a threat, or will
it burn up in the mesosphere?”
“Well, first off, I never said it was a
meteor,” Dr. Stevens chides. “It’s large
enough to cause significant damage, and
the trajectory should have it—wait, wait
… Did you guys see that? The spacesensors just indicated that it changed
direction by nearly six degrees, and
that’s a maneuver an asteroid can’t
make. So, now we’re not sure where it
will crash or perhaps … land.
Regardless, we’ll continue tracking its

course, and we’re currently repositioning an AEHF satellite to get a
visual. You better get the TEAM ready
and alert Homeland.”
Dr. Fleming looks a shade paler than
usual. His eyes remain riveted on the
anomaly as its velocity fluctuates.
“Roger that. We’ll dispatch the recovery
squad immediately. If it happens to fall
into the ocean, we’ve got the Navy Seals
on deck.”
Dr. Stevens wipes his brow as a
cooling cappuccino dances nervously in

his hand.
“Dr. Fleming, we now have the
dimensions of the UFO, and there’s some
concern that if this object hits the
shoreline, the damage could be
substantial. There’s also a small
possibility of a tsunami if it were to go
down in the ocean.”
The almost-mad scientist nods his
head in agreement with his colleague’s
assessment. “This odd duck has me on
pins and needles over here. None of our
satellites picked up anything until it

entered our atmosphere, and now it may
be maneuvering. All of our tracking
scenarios have it making quite an
impact. That being said, because of its
adjusted direction and velocity, we’re
mandated to notify the Pentagon.
Retrieval is paramount, don’t you
agree?”
“Yes, this is very intriguing,” Dr.
Stevens concurs as his voice rises in
pitch. “I really can’t comprehend how
our Galactic Safety Net completely
missed it. I’ll be very interested in its
composition. We can’t rule out any

contaminants that may have hitched a
ride on this thing, so the CDC protocol
must be adhered. Anyone who comes in
direct contact with the debris must be
quarantined!”
“Here you go again, predicting
another plague,” Dr. Fleming snaps
before adding, “All I know is, the
reverse engineers will have a field day
if they can get their hands on it, just
figuring out how it got by all of our
satellites and radar. We’ve got the
TEAM in route to Pensacola, as it
appears that’s its most likely destination.

There will be a standard media blackout
until we know what we’re dealing with
and it’s contained!”
***
The passion on the beach between
the couple heats up as night begins to
replace day, and Jake takes note that
they’re very much alone. His favorite
jazz song, “Lovers’ Lane,” drifts out
from his Contactor, a transparent
holographic
3-D
multi-functional
communicator. Adding fuel to the fire,
the hypnotic beat seems to whip the

waves into a frenzy of anticipation.
While his pocket rocket is preparing to
launch, he ignites the campfire to create
a perfect setting for what the conductor
has been orchestrating. As Sondra lies
on the blanket, her string bikini beckons
in the shadows like an open invitation to
love-land.
Jake, a dashing forty-nine-year-old
ex-playboy, has reached the point in life
where he’s ready to settle down. Variety
used to be the spice at night, but now his
heart belongs to Sondra. Appropriately
dubbed “The Golden Boy” as a teenager,

he topped off his adolescence as Class
President. At sixfoot-one, he was
athletic enough to be a back-up
quarterback, yet smart enough to know
better.
His gal is ten years younger, roughly
his punditic peer, and more in love than
even she knows. Bordering on
spellbinding, with her shoulder-length
golden mane, and all her other parts in
original condition. A distinguishing
black mole subtly graces her left cheek,
as if begging for attention, while the firm
and lively C-cup mirrors perfect

dimensions. They both put their careers
before marriage, and Sondra can hear
her biological clock ticking and the
alarm echoing in the distance. Jake, on
the other hand, has sown enough wild
oats to feed a small village, and is just
about ready to harvest a family.
“How much longer do you reckon
I’m gonna give you the milk for free? At
some point, ya gotta pay for the cow, and
your credit card is about to expire.”
Sondra needles his growing haystack.
“Moo, moo, moo,” he moans, while

gently caressing the curve of her breast.
“I refuse to compare your behind to that
of a bovine. On the other hand, I want
the whole cow with some calves, and
that’s no bull.” That’s just enough
barnyard banter to get the balls rolling.
While she nibbles on the bone, he kisses
every erogenous zone, as the campfire
embraces
shifting silhouettes
of
intertwined lovers. The enticing music
predictably encourages breeding. “Let’s
take a walk down Lovers’ Lane,” is the
last thing he hears before his prize heifer
lets him graze inside her succulent

meadow.
“Doctor, your heat-seeking missile
just blew up the little man in the boat,”
Sondra whimpers as she reaches for
some much-needed refreshment. Jake
kisses her on the cheeks, lips, nose,
forehead, and eyelids in every salacious
way.
“Just adding a little icing on the
cake. Too bad I have to work tomorrow,
or I could try to make those toes curl one
more time,” he playfully jokes.
Sondra puts two fingers to his lips

and whispers, “Shush up and hold me,
listen as the waves serenade the shore.”
The sun, now a distant memory, gives
way to the moon, a beacon to the stars.
In the afterglow of a love explosion, they
drift off to sleep in each other’s arms,
oblivious to the menacing object heading
their way with devastating intentions.
The UFO’s speed slows to Mach 1
as it enters the stratosphere, and as if on
cue—BOOM!—it breaks the sound
barrier, which rudely awakens Jake. As
he peers into a celestial puzzle, he
notices a shiny piece that seems to be

plunging towards the planet. Jake nudges
the shoulder of his passed-out lover.
“Babe, you want to watch a comet or
meteor or …”
She shakes her head and buries her
face deeper into his furry chest, floating
back inside the realm of dreams. As it
continues to descend, Jake wishes he
could take a video; however, that would
entail removing the lovely lady’s body
from his own. After a few minutes of
stargazing, it seems to be increasing in
size. He begins to worry about where

this particular falling star will impact
earth. It may be plunging into the ocean,
but hell … They’re on the beach.
“Baby, wake up.” This time, he’s
more insistent as he raises his voice.
“You’ve got to see this. I’ve never seen
anything quite like it.” At that precise
moment, the cosmic ball of fire slowly
opens and two diminutive objects eject,
while the flaming capsule disintegrates
over the water. Sondra grudgingly starts
to stir and slowly turns over to open her
eyes just as the prodigious projectile
vanishes from view.

“It was right there, almost directly
over us,” Jake exclaims while pointing
to the heavens.
“Well, it must have burnt up in the
atmosphere,” she muses.
He shakes his head defiantly. “No,
really, it was practically hovering.” Her
eyes nearly cross with a glare of
skepticism as her expression tells Jake
she’s concerned that too much Moscato
has been consumed. That’s just about the
time Jake hears two thumps on either
side of the blanket.

“What was that? Did you hear it?” he
howls while jumping up to take a better
look.
Sliding awkwardly off his chest onto
the cool sand, she answers facetiously,
“You have to know when you’ve reached
your limit, sweetie.” Jake ignores the
comment and ventures out towards the
sea, only to return looking even more
perplexed. As he circles the dwindling
fire, his left heel sinks into a small
cavity in the sand. That’s strange, he
thinks to himself. That hole was not
there when we set up the campsite.

Removing his half-hidden heel out of
the orifice, he spots something slightly
lit at the bottom. Kneeling down, he
commences to brush away as much sand
as possible to give it the eyeball test.
About a foot deep into the excavation he
can see something, and it’s definitely
glowing. Jake frantically digs up the
sand around it and places his right hand
about six inches above the light, to judge
how much heat it’s emitting. None is
detected, so he gets the empty container
that the chicken was stored in and a
wooden salad spoon. He turns the bowl

on its side and with the spoon nudges
what looks to be a stone up inside it.
Sondra has become aware of the
mining operation and inquires, “What
are you doing with my supper-saver?
Sweetie, why are you filling it with
sand?”
He brings the receptacle over and
points out the rock which still sparkles.
Jake proudly explains, “I guess this is
what I heard a minute or so ago. Yet, I
recall two distinct thumps.”
“Why

is

it

so

radiant?”

she

challenges. “Where did it come from,
and what if there are more on the way?”
Jake peers out over the horizon and
throws his hands up. “Do you think it
could be something from the Space
Center, or perhaps a commercial flight?
They say those new Air Hotels lose
parts all the time.”
Even as the words left his mouth, he
knew that’s no good explanation. Not for
this.
Yet, he couldn’t fathom why Jehovah
would throw rocks at him for dropping

anchor on a secluded beach. “I have to
agree, it’s time to call it a night. We’ve
had more than enough fireworks for one
evening. Let’s pack up and figure this out
later.”
Sondra is more than ready, so she
folds the blanket while Jake cleans up
their trash and tosses it into the nearby
ARR, or automatic recycling receptacle.
As his fiancée embarks on her trek to the
car, she stumbles and tumbles face first
into the sand, instinctively screeching.
“Ouch! Good Lord, help!”

Jake rushes to her aid and notices
her right foot buried halfway inside yet
another crevice. He gently pulls it out
and peeks down to observe a second
incandescent stone.
“Mystery solved,” he explains. “I
told you I heard two thuds. Let me get
the container. Uh oh. Babe, I’m sorry.
How’s that ankle?” Her lips curl at the
edges as she gawks at him with disbelief
while whining, “Don’t think I didn’t
notice how my leg was secondary in
importance to a frigging rock.”

“Sweetheart, don’t move,” he pleads
for patience while beginning to burrow.
“This should only take a few seconds.”
Clutching the container and spoon, he
repeats the procedure like an excavation
expert. As the stones lay side by side,
they appear to be clones. He proudly
shows off the contents. “Definitely the
same parents, matching size, color, and
shape.”
Sondra shakes her head while gazing
skyward. “We could have been killed if
they’d hit us. I mean literally—what
were we, inches away from disaster?

Now I’ve got a bum wheel to boot.”
He sets the bin on the blanket while
attempting to console his crippled soul
mate. “Here, let me help you to the car,
and I’ll come back for the blanket.” They
hobble together up the sandy sidewalk
until they reach his maroon Lexus
convertible. He inherited this classic
from his dad, so it holds a special place
in his heart. When he cruises around
town, top down, memories of days long
past occasionally still appear, from the
highway of life.

Once his most precious cargo is
loaded, Jake sprints back down to the
camp with nervous anticipation.
Everything is copacetic, so he puts the
blanket in the basket. He seals the
supper-saver and keeps it separate from
the other items, just to make sure there’s
no cross-contamination, especially with
anything from the kitchen. He notices the
stones seem to be losing some of their
luster as he makes his way up the steep
incline to the parking lot. The
convertible roof is stored in the trunk,
but there’s more than enough room in the


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