Bending to wash blood from his hands…

 

11/2/11

Yesterday while riding into work I played the same game I always do with Charley. I hide his photo- my favorite photo of him driving a boat- inside the pages of my Angel Numbers book and then as I see numbers on license plates, I turn to that page and read the corresponding number- get my message and look to see if Charley picture is stuck inside that page. Its a little game of hide and seek we play-mostly for me to know he is with me. Some days, like today, he was spot on. The first plate I saw with 3 numbers led me to a message that was on the same page as Charley’s photo! As divined, I read the message of the number and then slipped his photo- without looking- into another section of the book. Next plate, next number… he found me again. All this to say that today I am still reeling from yesterday and want him by my side as I process the information received.

Yesterday while having a chat with Charley on my long ride in, he wouldn’t play. Confused, I looked at the photo and whispered that I missed him.

Just about that time I looked at the digital clock in the car. Having not gone in until late, the clock rolled over to 11:07 and so I thought about the date felt the desire to contact R. I grabbed my phone and then thought… Hmmmm… I’ll just wait till the bewitching hour; of 11:11 AM, and add that to the date of 11/1/11 and thought … WOW! That might make a powerful connection and Charley just might bring me something… and he did!

As I drove- waiting for the minutes to pass till I could hit the exact minute…I saw something huge and feathered squatting in the middle of the road 5oo feet or more in front of me. Annoyed, I slowed to a crawl. Assuming it was a buzzard, I laughed to myself- “Now that would really be a hoot! Instead of Charley placing a feather in my path… he had sent me a whole freaking bird!” And just as I began to chuckle out load… the head of the creature lifted and turned and I slammed on my brakes!  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It cocked its head and the white crest undulated in the simmering autumn light- the yellow of the beak glowed as if polished and the breadth of its wing span took up more than half of the broad side of my Mustang. I sat stunned and watched. Unimpressed by my intrusion, it eyed me for a second and then lowered its head to pick at the carcass beneath its talons. When I inched my way forward a few feet, it abruptly turned, hopped two steps towards my car and then unfolded its wings as if to threaten.

Startled, I jammed the brake pedal into the floor as it flew overhead to a high limb and watched me for several seconds. I shoved the gear into park- hit my hazard lights and waited to see what it would do next. A minute went by and when my car did not move, it dove at my ragtop –scratched at the fabric and then returned to its post on the ground. I watched it rip into rotted flesh with total disregard for the ensuing encroachment of another car. I lowered my window, reached outside, took a photo with my cell phone as the approaching car honked its horn. Dazed, it leapt into the air and as it passed me…its wings gulped in what air was left inside my lungs to raise it high aloft a neighboring pine.

Now… in the thirty two years I have lived in Georgia, I have never seen a bald eagle in the wild- let alone less than twenty feet in front of me. The time of this event? You guessed it…11:11. Convinced it was more than mere coincidence, I began to search for its meaning. Shortly after I re-engaged my car, I was ensconced in unforgiving roaming territory and never made the contact to R desired.

At exactly 1:11PM my phone rang… it was R.

Five pages later, I hit the end button on my phone, looked at the expansive crawl of ink on the pages before me and took a deep breath. I now had definitive answers to the questions that have plagued me for over 2 ½ years. I knew the identities of the “4 in flannel” without question and I had the final nod on the LT connection to Grim and G. Energies that have shied, finally came to the table and presented graphic scenes…

The shooter displayed himself for the first time.  Bending to wash blood from his hands in the lake where Roxanne resided, the taint spreading in circular ripples of crimson. Once completed, he would begin the process again and again as though they could not be cleaned.

The MOT, heavyset and panting was sweaty and panic stricken- revealing his golf association with the insurance agent connected somehow to Jessica.

Miss M tells me Theodore was two towns west of Valdosta, coughing up blood. She reminds me- what she told me when we first talked before she passed about one of the 4 in flannel that is still alive. She says. “I meant what I said. He’s a loose cannon- dangerous-unpredictable… dangerous… be aware…”

They tell me, “Chapter 13… your answers are in Chapter 13 of your book. Look there…”

R’s car fills with pipe smoke… it’s him- the pipe smoker…

Miss M shows the man who smoked cigars- R’s lungs fill with second hand smoke. He is the man with the silver engraved lighter tucked inside the bag from the Morris Pawn Charley had on him back in October 6th, 1966. I have the receipt in his wallet!

Roxanne rises from the water, unstained by the blood it now holds and ready to move on.

Jessica rises from the dirt, face intact and not a speck of soil on her she too is anxious to evolve to the next level.

The shooter walks with his two dogs- his hands wet and dripping.

Charley shows R the hour glass. He tips it over and the sand begins to run. The time is running out. Closure is coming. The shooter, the girls and the MOT begin to walk away. Charley follows, then turns and says, “You did it… you did it…” R whispers, “I wish you could see what this looks like… so beautiful, so beautiful…”

November 17th is significant.

R says, “You will know when you get to the end of the book…when to stop writing and let the world read the story. You must trust the process, trust the process… trust the process.”

On my way home at 5:55 PM while passing the area where the eagle had made contact I finally made the connection. The eagle represented Justice. At 6:05 I played the hide and seek game with Charley’s photo, but he refused to stay in between the pages. Every time I opened the book his photo fell in my lap. Convinced he had something more he wanted to share; I held the picture while I drove and thanked him for the many blessings and information of the day. As I rubbed the edge of the photo, thinking about the eagle and the confirmation on the identity of the 4th in flannel, I suddenly was drawn to think about two clues I had thought meant something else.

Charley’s clue, “The answer is in the car.” And Hazel’s clue, “I just threw it into the box. It’s been there the whole time and I never knew…”

As the autumn sun began to dip behind the Georgia Pines I noticed the two partial fingerprints that remained raised at the bottom right hand corner of the small photo… as if someone with something viscous on their hands had held the photo to inspect it. A photo that had been in Charley’s wallet back in 1966!

At 6:08 I had what I like to call an “Oh s_____!” moment and called R!

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