Gods' Food: Indigo Diaries, #1

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GODS’ FOOD

NOVEL

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INDIGO DIARIES

Book 1

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Edition 2

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There are two versions of the first volume in the Indigo Diaries series:

The Adventures of Emily Smyth and Billy Fifer for preteens and teens

and Gods' Food (which is NOT a religious book) for adult readers.

The journey continues in A Dream of Two Moons: Alien DNA.

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By Sahara Sanders

Copyright © All Rights Reserved

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PREAMBLE:

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Do you remember the unbidden summer rain

Washing the dew from oak trees away?

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Can you forget the scent of honey over fields,

And those amber-colored acorn beads...

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And crowds of singing motley birds

Around the foggy, misty lake?

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That’s where our childhood mirth

Will still remain as a fairy-tale...

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INDIGO DIARIES, # 1

2nd Edition, 2017

The 1st Edition was written in 1997 but never published for 20 years

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BASED ON REAL OCCURRENCES

All the facts recorded took place in real life

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DEDICATION: To my grandmother, Melania

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TIMING: 1980-1989

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PLACE: In the middle of Childhood.

The geographical location of the country described has been omitted to protect confidentiality of the real-life prototypes of the book’s characters.

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NOTE:

Indigo Diaries series is illustrated through a combination of drawings and photography, which is unusual for the genre. It’s the author's personal vision, intended to serve as a time machine to immerse readers as deeply as possible in the events depicted in the books.

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This 2nd Edition is for adults and young adults who enjoy being drawn into amusing adventures, tinged with challenges—evoking memories of their own childhood and teenage years.

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The 3rd Edition, The Adventures of Emily Smyth and Billy Fifer, meant for the entertainment of pre-teens and teens, can be found here: https://books2read.com/b/3GMZOO

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CONTENTS:

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ABOUT THE SERIES

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PREFACE

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1. AT GRANNY ANNY’S DWELLING

Some Bizarre Experience Began

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2. AMBROSIA AND THE HOLLY BIRD

The Sense of Human Life

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3. EMMA’S FIRST MEMORIES

The Earthquake

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4. HATCHING BABY WOLVES

Misunderstood Bantering

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5. A TRIP TO THE CITY

Billy’s Foundation

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6. THE KINGDOM OF CRIMSON ROSE

A Bull that Doesn’t Need a Crib

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7. AT THE YELLOW ROSE KINGDOM

The Wild Snake

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8. SCHOOL-TIME AND PLAYTIME

An Accident under the Walnut Trees

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9. LIVING AT THE NEW HOUSE

The Castles of Ants

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10. JUNAID-KHAN’S RESCUERS

Kids Home Alone

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11. MULBERRY HUNTING

The Quarry

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12. A MESS NEXT TO THE BREAD

Joshua

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13. GATHERING THE HARVEST

How to Make Children:

A Step-by-Step Guide

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14. A HAT THAT SCREAMS AND BITES

Winter 1983 - 1984

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15. WONDERS OF NATURE

Gone with the Bees

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​16. MORE HOLIDAYS AND OCCASIONS

Bitter Sweets

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17. THE UNINHABITED ISLAND

Looking for the Nightingale’s Eggs

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18. SEASIDE VACATIONS

Double Standards

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19. ONE MYSTERIOUS FRIDAY

Another Meeting with Mr. Fog

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20. CAMPING AT THE RIVER OF DARK STONES

Getting Astray in the Meadow of Boulders

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21. DREAMS LOST IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Lotuses in the Lake

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22. SUNDAY PIES

The Betrayal

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23. THE FUGITIVE

Angels Don’t Survive on Earth

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24. THE HIDEOUT IN THE WOODS

Surprising Maniaha

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25. SIGHS... DAYS AND NIGHTS

Shirley Falls for Someone Else’s Boyfriend

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PREFACE

TO THE INDIGO DIARIES SERIES

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What happens to an Indigo Child as they grow up?

More importantly, what is the real difference between what’s normal and what’s paranormal?

If some mystical occurrences happen to us, don’t we normally and fearfully prefer to call them strange coincidences, or try to convince ourselves it was simply a sign of our overactive imagination? Aren’t we cowardly closing our eyes and ears, refusing to face the truth—because otherwise, it would ruin our convenient perception of the world?

What do we actually consider to be normal? Isn’t it about what our conventional mentality is able to understand and accept as real?

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The exact same can be said about the line between calling your novel non-fiction or fiction.

What if you could close your eyes and see different worlds and planets? What if you could see them with some kind of different vision, even with your eyes open? Would that make you paranoid... a freak, a genius, a crazy, or an Indigo, if that’s what’s been happening to you since you can remember?

If something unusual is what you really see and truly feel, and if that’s what really happens to you in your life, how is that called fiction? One simple reason: it’s the only way society would agree to call it normal, based on the current level of development of their mentality.

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Copyrighted Material

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SUMMER 1980

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June of 1980 was a hot month.

It had so much to offer, with its sumptuous beauty pleasing anyone’s eyes, and so much more.

A European cyclone, soaking the local rivers and lakes, brought a couple of cloudy and rainy weekends, providing the greenwoods, fields, meadows, and countless gardens with the much-needed humidity.

The rest of the days sank into the summery sunshine, with flowery blossoms, the twinkling of colorful butterflies, buzzing bees, and the happy singing of birds;

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while the nights continued to charm with warm winds beneath clear skies, full of stars mysteriously shining from the incomprehensible vastness of the boundless Universe.

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Who among us, humans, has never once fallen into deep contemplation, standing in the darkness of such evenings beneath constellations that hide distant worlds and planets still barely visible or reachable by our eyes and minds?

How many chances are there that, in one or more of those unknown worlds, mighty civilizations have devised ways to peer through time and across billions of light-years?

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If that is the case, they would also be able to witness the stories unfolding on Earth... like the one narrated in this novel.

Copyrighted Material

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1. AT GRANNY ANNY’S DWELLING

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SUMMER, 1980

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When her parents weren’t home, a six-year-old blonde girl, Emily, sometimes stayed with her father’s mother, Annabel Smyth (also known by everyone as Anna or Anny).

Grandma Anna’s home was tidy and cozy, though it couldn’t be called large. It consisted of a living room, kitchen, a ridiculously cramped bathroom, and a hall. The fact that there was no separate bedroom might seem strange to some people, while others might assume the inhabitants of the house were some kind of enigmatic creatures who never slept. The truth, however, was much more prosaic: the house was as big as the family could afford when it was built.

One night, Annabel and her granddaughter had to share a narrow single bed placed in the kitchen. The small room was stuffy and stifling.

Anna had already fallen asleep, but the girl, who ended up pressed against the wall by her granny’s massive back, had to wake her up and protest:

—Grandma, please move away a little bit... you’re too close!

—Sloes?

—Close!

—Nose? What nose?

—I said, Close!

—Prose?

—No... Move away!

—Give-away?!

—Nope! I said: you’re too close!

—Toes?

—No-o-o... I’m only trying to explain that you are lying far too close to me in this tiny bed, granny Anny!

—Oh... okay, Emma; I will move further away a little bit.

—Thank you, Granny. And yet, please do not snore.

—What?

—Do not snore!

—Dinosaur? ...Or did you say candy store?

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Grandma wasn’t kidding. Being tired and suddenly woken up, her brain was in-between resting and talking modes; that’s why Anna could hardly understand what her granddaughter was saying.

The funny talk made Emily smile as she tried to fall asleep again. She loved to dream and think about something inspiring.

Soon, her mom, dad, and herself would move into a bigger house that was currently being built a few blocks down the street, near the lake.

And then, in the autumn, the girl would go to school, hopefully being seen as more grown-up by her family. The girl already knew literacy and numeracy, thanks to her dad and her mother’s mother, Grandma Melany’s lessons.

Speaking of news about the upcoming weekend, the youngster had been told that her cousins—William (also called Billy or Bill) and Otilia (Tilly) Fifer—were coming for a visit.

Billy was the same age as Emily, and Tilly was a year older. The brother and sister were both cute kids with straight blond hair and blue-gray eyes, just like their mother, Heather. Emma’s green eyes and slightly wavy hair were more like her father Cliff’s appearance. By his nose and cheekbones, Billy looked like his mother’s elder brother, Emily’s dad Clifford Smyth; and Emily’s face did resemble her mother’s elder sister, Aunt Vivienne. Tilly’s face looked like her father’s, even though she was blonde, while their dad, Philippe Fifer, was dark-haired with dark eyes.

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It’s truly fascinating to observe how genetics works in families and what a huge lottery it is to inherit certain physical traits from our relatives.

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The Fifers often stayed at Annabel’s house, perhaps even more frequently than Emma did. When they visited, the sleeping arrangements were usually solved with mattresses placed on the floor, a couple of folding armchairs, and the sofa in the living room.

Tilly, Billy, and Emily enjoyed each other’s company immensely and were always euphoric to see one another. Some of the children living on the same street would join their little group, and they all had a great time together. The idea generators of this small society were usually Emma and Billy. The cousins were similar types of souls, always full of inspiration to organize something cool, global, and a little crazy—starting from becoming local naturalists to creating elaborate plans to save the environment and the world, applying as much logic as their age allowed them. Such characteristics often landed them in various circumstances and troubles... while also turning their great moments together into unforgettable experiences.

Therefore, it’s easy to guess that Emma’s mind was entirely occupied with thoughts of what exciting activities could be on the to-do list when she met her cousins, who were really her best friends.

They might go to the beach to swim, fish, and sunbathe, or to the forest to gather mushrooms. Perhaps their parents would take them to visit the waterfalls in the neighboring village, or they might just stay at home and enjoy playing together. Anything sounded like an interesting prospect.

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The neighbors' dogs barking woke Emily up at about ten o’clock in the morning.

As she had been told the day before, the girl knew that Grandma Anna had gone to the market near the main road to buy some milk and sell fresh vegetables. Breakfast was waiting on the table: a plate of fried potatoes, a loaf of bread, and Emma’s favorite salad (made with crispy pickled cucumbers, a little shredded onion, and homemade sunflower oil). But she didn’t feel hungry—not yet.

Putting on her blue cotton dress as she went, she ran outside. While cleaning her teeth at the tap built under the viburnum bush near the entrance door of the house, she saw one of her friends, Craig, trying to open the wicket from behind the fence.

—Emma! Emma! How lucky I am to meet you!

—Howdy, Craig! What’s up?

—Please, come here quickly! I need to show you something, and it’s urgent... very, very urgent! You have to come with me now.

—Why?

—You’ll understand in a minute... but I’m begging you, promise me you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to share... Promise?

—I promise.

—Let’s hurry!

The boy had led Emily to his grandparents’ vegetable garden, but they did not go through the main entrance. Instead, they crawled in from behind the backyard, through the shrubs of gooseberries.

Listen, Craig, why do we need all this secrecy? And what’s going on here... over h... the girl started saying, but when they crawled close enough to see over the hill, she lost the ability to speak because of the view that appeared before them. Oh, my God!

There was a crowd of people, maybe a dozen or so, including Craig’s grandparents, gathering and shouting around an old poplar tree that was burning like a huge candle, spitting out puffs of smoke that had already covered much of the area with its bleary veil, spreading across the gardens.

Emily had never seen anything like this in her life.

How could this happen? she asked Craig.

The boy started mumbling something unclear, his face showing guilt. He was already seven years old, but it didn’t make him any braver in the situation.

—Please, can you try to stop chewing your tongue and explain more about what you’ve done? I’d like to know, —Emma continued.

—It wasn’t me! Maybe... not me...

—What do you mean by maybe not you? Aren’t you sure?

—No... And I feel like I need to talk about it with someone...

—I’m your friend, and I’m here for you.

—Okay... But we also have to figure out how to put out this fire!

—Seriously? How do you picture that happening? Just look at all those adults standing there, completely helpless! The only way I can see this working is if it starts pouring. Yes, I wish it would rain... downpour, torrent, shower, pour heavily!

Emma didn’t get to finish her thought as the sound of a car pulling up drew their attention away from the discussion.

—Oh, dear... My parents arrived! I have to go now, sorry... Let’s talk next time! —the boy whispered.

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Emily had to carefully crawl all the way back through the prickly gooseberry bushes so that no one would notice she was there. Then, she made her way to the main street to get to Annabel’s house.

Although it wasn’t even noon yet, she already felt tired—whether it was from not having a good sleep the night before, the stress she had just gone through, or both reasons combined. Finally, she finished the food her grandma had prepared and decided to take a nap.

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Emma woke up in the evening. It was dark and cool in the room... but what was that odd sound? Knock... knock... knock...

She climbed off the bed, looked through the kitchen window, and realized that a few branches of blackcurrant shoots growing nearby had reached the window glass, swaying in the wind. Wow! The weather was so calm before I went to rest... but it seems like I’ve had a pretty long nap, the girl thought, dazed.

—Grandma, are you home? Where are you?

Silence.

Emily turned the light on, walked to open