The First Love Of Alipang Havens

As I am seeking to get the original Alipang Havens novel officially published, so I hope to publish Possible Future. But it grew so long in the writing that, with my intent to add a bit more besides (largely to insert the real discussion of adult subjects which I could barely touch on here), it needs breaking up.

What has been one long near-future novel will be split into two volumes. From the start, up through Alipang's non-violent rescue of Daffodil/David, will be "Volume One: Freedom Inside A Prison." The title for Volume Two is pending. What I plan further to write on this thread will be called The Lively Autumn of Alipang Havens, and it will be Volume Three. Thus, the original Alipang Havens novel will be to the near-future stories as The Hobbit is to Lord of the Rings.
 
In "Possible Future," Eric Havens is old enough that *I* could play him in a movie, if a movie were made soon. Not likely, since I refuse to pretend in my story that all evil arises from Christianity and free enterprise. Oh, well.
 
Some of you must have noticed that, if a long series of novels is written about the same ongoing ensemble of characters, the author sometimes gets around to adding short stories which fill in gaps in the saga. To fill in some of the _time_ before I'm ready to start the final (?) Alipang Havens volume, I am going to insert a short story which belongs in the continuity.

In "Possible Future," one of the characters in "the secret army" is a former New York police detective named Danny Alyard. Like Alipang Havens and Josiah Redfern, Danny is a hero who first came into being as a character played by me in text-based roleplay. As a New York City patrolman, he deserved a promotion to detective, but was unjustly blocked from it because he blew the whistle on a corrupt and crooked superior in his precinct. Only after passing the age of forty still in uniform did he get to do some really impressive heroics, which belatedly gained him his detective's badge.

Danny's heroics included getting badly wounded while saving the lives of the children of an African-American single mother named Tashonda, who up till then had had nothing but bad luck with men. But by the time Danny crossed her path, Tashonda had committed her life to Jesus -- which made the _Christian_ policeman all the more a knight in shining armor to her. Completely ignoring both racial difference and age difference, Tashonda relentlessly pursued her hero. Her son and daughter also took to the man who had rescued them from a crossfire, and the sincerity of mother and children awoke in him exactly the response Tashonda was hoping for. So they got married, which delighted Danny's friends on the force, as they knew how long he had _wished_ for a woman who would love him wholeheartedly. Tashonda eventually bore a son to Danny, though Tashonda's _first_ son is the one who appears in "Possible Future" under the name of Jackson Alyard.

The story I will soon be posting takes place in Manhattan in 2009; call it early summer. This is only something like two months after the wedding of Danny and Tashonda; and, as you will see, the action of this story occurs on someone _else's_ wedding day. Note that there will be a reference also to my character Josiah Redfern. For the record, I imagine Danny Alyard as looking like Dan Ackroyd, Josiah Redfern as resembling Kiefer Sutherland, and Tashonda as looking like the singer Mandisa.
 
Two Guests Outside the Wedding ​

Detective Danny Alyard, N.Y.P.D., wasn't actually talking into his cellphone. His holding the inactive cellphone beside his ear was giving him an excuse to go on sitting on the bench across from the church. The phone he was using as a prop was in fact an old one, out of commission. Thus, if he were to have to spring up and go into action all in an instant, letting the old phone fall to the pavement as he went for his gun would be no loss.

Danny's Vietnamese-American partner, Detective Trung Tinh, called "Tin Man" by other detectives because he was unemotional, was not with Danny. Danny was off duty. His wife Tashonda was at home; Danny would _rather_ have been at home also -- but he had been _called_ to be here.

Other veteran cops on the force would make Blues Brothers jokes about Danny being "on a mission from God;" but none of them could deny that Danny's intuitions had a scary way of being right. Only, this time no details came with the hunch. Danny only knew that he needed to be here. Not _attending_ the wedding that was in progress, but standing watch _outside_ the church.

It was the first time Danny had ever staked out a church, unless a couple of perverted cults counted as churches. Danny had not told the pastor. Poor old Conrad Flaherty had enough on his plate, trying to keep some people attending his church in a Manhattan full of materialistic cynics. Of course, if Conrad had changed all of his sermons to nothing but "Love yourself" messages, he would be having an easier time; but Conrad preached the actual gospel of Jesus. A rough trail to walk downtown, though of course not as difficult as the job facing storefront missions in the ghettoes. But those places tended to have _young_ pastors; at Conrad's age, no one had a right to expect him to look for an even _more_ difficult mission field for himself.

And miracles did happen. One miracle was standing inside that church right now, wearing a tuxedo and getting lawfully married to a hauntingly beautiful young woman. A young woman raised as a _Hindu,_ no less.

Lolita Kali's parents had given her a Western-type first name, but the family atmosphere otherwise was identical with the better neighborhoods of New Delhi. Lolita had been a student at a pretty decent private college... where the man in the tuxedo taught philosophy. Or rather, taught Marxism _disguised_ as philosophy. Lowell Sanders, undeservedly handsome and undeservedly popular, had gotten away many times with trading "favors" from female students for good grades. When Professor Sanders took an interest in Lolita, the only noticeable change from his pattern had been a significant one: Lolita _wasn't_ in any class of his, which meant he had no power over her. God knew how, but Sanders had prevailed upon the "poor little rich girl" to fall in love with him.... and wonder of wonders, he seemed _actually_ to love her in return.

That was a long story; but Danny was here, on a fine day when he should have been with his loving family, for the purpose of _preventing_ the philosophy professor's story from being suddenly cut short.

And... the... threat... was...

THERE. Danny knew it. That African-American woman, late twenties by the look of her, so gorgeous she could have made Halle Berry envious. She was the threat. She was of an age that she could have been a student at Sanders' current college within the time since Sanders had taken the job there. And she was glowering toward Conrad Flaherty's church.

The Holy Spirit had told Danny that he needed to be here. Danny's police instincts told him.... that the woman was carrying. The gun was almost certainly inside that purse.

She passed by the church. But that didn't make it a false alarm. It was timing. Yes, she had looked at a watch. She would unquestionably double back when her chosen moment was near. Since she _hadn't_ simply charged at the church door, she was probably waiting for the newlyweds to emerge.

Danny's eyes swept the front of the building that the church was built into. The actual church was two flights up; if the woman with the gun had any notions of escaping, she wouldn't want to have to race back down those stairs. Danny picked his spot on the church's side of the street, the spot where he would intercept the woman.

Her face had been seething with poorly-disguised hate. Knowing Professor Sanders' reputation, it was not hard at all to guess the likely reason. And as recently as three months ago, Danny would scarcely have felt a twinge of sadness if Sanders _had_ been shot dead by some girl he had used. But as a Christian, Danny knew that the grace of Christ could transform even a lowlife like Lowell Sanders. And Danny intended to give Sanders time to bear fruit that would befit repentance.

He crossed to his chosen position.

Two minutes later, the angry woman came into sight again. Returning. That purse held where she could quickly get at what was in it.
 
Danny's combination of spiritual sensitivity and well-refined police instincts gave him an estimate of how long he could wait to act, before the young black woman would realize that he _was_ looking intently at her. Danny knew the routine she might resort to then, if hers was the sort of personality to resort to it: "Racism! Profiling! Harassment! You're after me for Walking While Black!"

Danny's ingrained patience and empathy had recently enabled him to get past this kind of defense mechanism in the case of a troubled young man called Nate Vendez. Nate, in fact, was becoming virtually a member of the Alyard family. It had not hurt matters for Nate to see that Danny, a white man, was married to a _black_ woman.

But this woman, her face fierce as a hailstorm under the thundercloud of her massive ringleted hair, was not going to give Danny time to earn her confidence by slow stages.

His brain and spirit concurred on the distance at which he must act, or else forget the whole thing -- and then maybe _have_ to shoot the young woman, if she did after all draw a gun. She was two paces from the invisible dividing line when Danny noticed another detail: her left hand was making the opening atop her purse wider, which would facilitate her right hand getting inside for her weapon and yanking it out unobstructed.

Danny drew something else as smoothly as he expected the woman to draw the gun. What he drew was simply his badge. The presence of the Spirit of God was growing stronger within him; he _knew_ that he was doing the right thing.

"Excuse me, miss. I'm Detective Daniel Alyard, N.Y.P.D. May I ask you a question?"

The beauty of her mouth was marred by the filthy words that emerged from it; but mixed with her obscenities was a grudging consent to his questioning her.

"Please tell me: do you know anyone in the church that meets in this building?"

"Maybe I do;" then more crude language.

"Then is that the reason why you're waiting for your chosen moment to draw the handgun you're carrying inside that purse?"
 
Last edited:
The young woman visibly teetered on a mental tightrope. Half of her was afraid, the other half enraged. Half of her understood that what she came to do was excessive, the other half wanted to reject anything Danny said solely because Danny was a white male. Danny, though, was neither afraid nor enraged; and it was the very calmness of his voice which took hold of the woman and steadied her on her tightrope.

"Miss, if I were the stereotyped white supremacist that you're trying to believe I am, I would have approached you with my weapon already drawn. Because you are carrying, aren't you?"

Her mouth ignored her effort to swell up with self-righteous resentment. Her mouth answered "Yes."

"And it's because of Lowell Sanders, isn't it?"

The purse with the gun sank lower, away from her right hand. "Yes."

"He had you as a student, and he demanded that you please him if you wanted to pass his philosophy course, one of the requisite credits for your degree. Right?"

Her jaw now also sank. "How did you know?"

"I've had my eye on Professor Sanders since long before I made detective. One night, a freshman girl named Tanya Bronislavsky attempted suicide on the front steps of his apartment building. My partner Jack Chang and I saw her, passed out from a bottle of sleeping pills, and rendered first aid in time to save her life."

"I think I heard of Tanya! Sanders did her the way he did me, I bet."

"That's what Jack and I thought at first. But investigation showed that Sanders was innocent in _that_ case. Tanya had a crush on him, but he did nothing to exploit her. In fact, out of appreciation for her admiration of him, I hear that he gave her an A in his course _without_ expecting anything in return. I tell you this just to say that even someone who is a jerk might not be AS bad as we think.

"And Sanders isn't quite bad enough that you should throw away all your future chances for the sake of punishing him. Now, how about you hand me that gun? Then there won't be anything to arrest you for."
 
Last edited:
"If you arrest him for multiple counts of sexual harassment and extortion," the woman countered, "I won't feel such a wish to snuff him."

"Tell me something, Miss--"

"My name is Desiree Fields."

"Fields... Hey, do you have a sister named Enchantra? A waitress?"

"Yeah, she works at The Global Feast on Long Island."

"That's why you look familiar. I'm slightly acquainted with the owners of that place. But getting back to you and your grievance: would you say that your _whole_ life was ruined by what Professor Sanders did?"

"Not _quite_ ruined; but a sore spot forever."

"Well, I know someone whose life came _really_ close to being ruined by Sanders. Another slight acquaintance of mine, a groundskeeper at the same campus where you were. His name's Josiah Redfern. In fall of 2008, he saved a freshman named Walid Omar from being beaten to death."

"What, by Islamophobes?"

"No, by Islam-ISTS. Walid wasn't fanatical enough to satisfy some extremists, and they attacked him with steel pipes. Josiah's a combat veteran, and he opened a large can of kick-butt on those thugs. He saved Walid's life; but PROFESSOR SANDERS led an attempt to get Josiah tried for a hate crime!"

"No ____? What happened?"

"Walid's testimony cleared Josiah; and Josiah _forgave_ Sanders."
 
Desiree's eyes widened. "The groundskeeper _forgave_ Sanders?"

"He did, and said so to his face to stop him from being afraid."

"But you said this Mister Redfern's a _war_ veteran, didn't you? And a _killer_ forgave someone who done him like that?"

"Miss, you might be surprised at how many soldiers are Christians, and ready to forgive people. They're _required_ to fight for our country, but they dismiss _personal_ insults."

"Is your point that if Mister Redfern forgave Sanders, I should too?"

"That's part of my point, anyway."

"So Sanders gets to go on doing what he likes?"

"Desiree, I keep an eye on people of _every_ color. If I ever catch Sanders committing a crime, I'll stomp on him like a bug. But I truly don't believe he _will_ be doing any more of what happened to you. I believe he _actually_ loves the woman he's getting married to in that church, and I believe he means to clean up his act."

"I heard about the bride: snotty rich white girl called Lolita, That name's from a dirty book, they say."

"First, she isn't white, she's Indian, as in the country of Indi-A. And there's a Hindu name LA-lita, which was her born name; her parents changed it to LO-lita when they moved to this country, probably without knowing about Vladimir Nabokov's novel. They're a respectable family; Jack and I did security at their property one time. And _they_ didn't make it easy for Sanders when he wanted to marry their daughter; in fact, a fellow Indian named Ranjit Karkal had to intercede for him."

"And now _you're_ interceding for him. What aren't you telling me?"

"Miss Desiree, the only thing I'm holding back is the full story of where I believe the true source of forgiveness is, because I'm not supposed to evangelize people while I'm on duty. But when I ask you to drop your plans against Professor Sanders, I'm asking you to do something which is for your _own_ good also."

Desiree glanced once more at the building containing the church. "So what happens now?"

"Ideally, here's what happens. First, you tell me: is that piece registered, and what street were you on when you got it?" When Desiree answered No, and told him the street, Danny said, "There, you gave me some information. You just became one of my confidential informants. If you give me that gun now, I will truthfully report that one of my informants turned in an unregistered firearm, and no one will push it any further." He handed her a business card. "If you feel the need for a gun to _defend_ yourself, call me, and I'll do all I can to help you get licensed."

Slowly, Desiree brought out the gun and handed it to the detective. "If every white cop was like you, a lot more of us would feel okay about cops."

"I'm working on that, miss. And I hope to hear of you being a big success in life."

"At least I succeeded in not going to the slammer."

"A good way to look at it. See you around, miss."

They went off in opposite directions, but a human connection had been made. Nothing like the romantic bond being formalized by the new couple who had no idea that Danny Alyard had just saved them from catastrophe; but it was a connection of understanding, and it mattered.


THE END

Note that Danny appears in the second half of "Possible Future." ​
 
If any of you have ever heard of an editorial writer named Mary Grabar, I'm a big fan of hers. If you _haven't_ heard of Miss Grabar, I'm _still_ a big fan of hers. Recently, on Facebook, she said that she was "always looking for good fiction to read." So I have sent her the enlarged (and more adult-oriented) manuscript of The First Love of Alipang Havens.

This is Miss Grabar's Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/mary.grabar?fref=ts&ref=br_tf
 
Copperfox said:
If any of you have ever heard of an editorial writer named Mary Grabar, I'm a big fan of hers. If you _haven't_ heard of Miss Grabar, I'm _still_ a big fan of hers. Recently, on Facebook, she said that she was "always looking for good fiction to read." So I have sent her the enlarged (and more adult-oriented) manuscript of The First Love of Alipang Havens.
Click to expand...

No reply so far from Miss Grabar. But meanwhile, I have a friend whom I can ask to change the manuscript into PDF format for me.
 
I do still intend, God sparing us, to commence _another_ Alipang Havens novel eventually. I left off with Wilson Havens, the son of Alipang and Kimberly, _just_ old enough to have started a romance of sorts with Cecilia Salisbury, who is his first cousin but not by blood, because Alipang and Chilena are not siblings by blood. In the next novel, I want to explore how things turn out for Wilson and Cecilia. Also to look at the growing of the several babies who were born in "Possible Future," including Melody's son Douglas.
 
I'm always alert for chances to learn new words. Today I received some dental care, and learned that the putty-like substance used to mold impressions of teeth is called "alginate." I must get that inserted in the Alipang saga someplace.
 
Last edited:
Now that genuine professional publication may be impending for the _enlarged_ version of the _original_ Alipang Havens novel, here is the back-cover blurb I've composed for it:


AN ORPHAN BETWEEN HELL AND HEAVEN
​

Alipang Dumagat carried in his blood the strength of his ancestors, the fearless warriors of the Moro tribe. He was born poor in the Philippines, and was orphaned at the age of seven, but he didn't give up. Surviving homelessness, then forced against his will to be a drug mule for a criminal gang, he was rescued -- and adopted -- by a pair of American Christian missionaries, Eric and Cecilia Havens.

The transition to living in the United States was only a minor change for Alipang Havens, compared with the transition to a family setting where love and kindness were normal. Full of gratitude and reverence for his new parents, the boy flourished, getting along well with his new siblings and making neighborhood friends easily. But the America he had come to was not flourishing as much as he was.

Evil and foolishness, each encouraging the other, were growing in Alipang's new homeland. Authority figures who should have known better were making excuses for deliberate wrongdoers, while scoffing at the Christian faith which could have redeemed and reformed those wrongdoers. Honorable men who opposed evil -- such as Wilson Kramer, the Navy SEALS veteran who was a dear friend of the Havens family -- went unappreciated, while deception and fraud prospered increasingly. And the growing darkness was not only in the realm of abstract ideas. People who were dear to Alipang faced the danger of direct criminal violence, as gang influence leaked out of big cities into the small town where the Havens family lived.

But Alipang understood something that many of his fellow Christians didn't understand. A willingness to forgive his enemies did not mean it was his duty to let criminals do whatever they wanted at the expense of honest people. And some arrogant thugs were going to find out the hard way that there was a Moro warrior on the loose.
 
Although Alipang will never get to meet Eliot "Grey Eagle" Granholm in earthly life, he _will_ witness the creation of the evil "Citizoic League" that the Grey Eagle will have to contend with.

This new Soviet-style tyranny will be the brainchild of six arrogant, narcissistic women: women who get on a high horse to condemn dictatorships created by _males,_ but who really want to do THE SAME THING as all the male tyrants they condemn. Three of the six are Chinese, because that nation already in our time is the heart and the stronghold of totalitarian collectivism. The top women in the conspiracy is named Pang Biao-Tu, who "modestly" compares herself to Kuan-Yin, the Chinese Goddess of Mercy. Her five henchwomen are named Yung Hsiao-Chei, Olga Bronislavski, Lavinia Japera, Hua Kong-Yin, and Benazir Hamzulla.

Because the leader has the surname Pang, a male henchman of hers who is introduced to _Alipang_ will mistakenly think, when hearing only Alipang's first name, that he is called ALLEN PANG, and could thus be related to the glorious ruler. This results in Alipang meeting "The Lawgiver," so God can use him to give her one last chance to repent of denying Him.



 
I'm praying that it will be _possible_ for me to publish all of my Alipang Havens and Grey Eagle novels. My concern is legitimate, since my stories go against the sacred cows of the anti-Christian inquisition. Those would be the same sacred cows that our EveningStar is fighting out in the real world.
 
What I wrote here as "The Possible Future of Alipang Havens" turned out so long-winded that it will have to be divided into volumes. Here is a possible blurb for the first volume, which would bear the volume-title "Freedom inside A Prison".......


TOO VALUABLE TO KILL, TOO DANGEROUS TO RELEASE
​

The United States had collapsed under the weight of an unsustainable welfare state, leaving China as the world's dominant country. Fortunately, the Chinese government was edging toward moderation and increased civil liberties. Unfortunately, China did nothing to prevent the ruins of American society from being taken over by ideologues who were determined to out-Marx the Marxists.

Alipang and Kimberly Havens, with their children Wilson, Esperanza and Brendan, were grateful not to have been murdered in the bloody purges conducted against Christians. They were grateful that at least part of their extended family was with them. But where they were, was on the equivalent of an Indian reservation.

The bosses of the absurdly-named "Fairness Party" were smart enough to realize that it was the Christians who had preserved a work ethic, which made them productive whereas the welfare parasites were -- well, parasitical. So, after the purges had shown who was in charge, the surviving Christians were treated as a precious resource: people who actually liked honestly earning a livelihood. They were granted tolerable living conditions, and allowed to practice their faith within some limits, in return for helping to rebuild America's crumbled economy and shattered industrial base. Alipang even was able to practice dentistry as he had sought to do.

But they were constantly reminded that they lived on sufferance -- that anyone among them could at any time be arrested for an imaginary offense, and would have no legal protection.

They could always pray, and pray they did. But they had already been praying before America's collapse, and America had still collapsed. What, then, was God's will for them here? Was there any action within their power that might restore their liberty? Or were they supposed to be passive, resigned to their captivity?

Alipang was longing for answers from God.... because he was a man of action as well as faith and intellect. But life in "the Western Enclave" was perpetually reminding him of the old saying, "Sometimes history gives you the test first, and the lesson afterwards."
 
Trying to keep all the plates spinning on the sticks. I frankly feel entitled to do so. Especially since, if God spares me, I do really intend to write more tales of Alipang and family -- as is hinted at by my story in progress on the "Sanitized" thread.

 
Long before I wrote anything else of mine that members here would know of, I managed several chapters of a novel to be titled "Upon the Narrow Pacific." Its intent was to speculate on the near future similarly to what I ended up doing with "Alipang Havens." Therefore, if God spares me to continue the Alipang series, what comes next will incorporate the ideas from that unfinished novel, including the principal characters.

Among these "recycled" characters will be a brother and sister who are Armenians and Christians, named Vartan and Vartui Yenovkian. I took that last name from Richie Yenovkian, a Christian musician from the old Jesus Freak era. Vartan and his sister will both be military people.
 
Back
Top