Any Port in a Storm

All Characters are to be viewed as over the age of eighteen.

Copyright 2008 by madengineer3, All rights are reserved! This story is not to be copied or circulated except by madengineer3 or by means of the Literotica website, and under Literotica's rules.

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For all of those who have spent time on the ocean it is obvious that if a major storm is about to catch you, it is wise to find a sheltered port within which to anchor. The same can be said of people who are in immanent danger. They will often turn to even a stranger to provide safe shelter. This is a story about a woman and child who found shelter in a refuge that was stronger than they expected.

Mary Jones was just twenty two. She had suffered a violent rape at the hands of a young thug named Phil Brown. He did this to her when he was seventeen. He was an arrogant and ignorant disgrace to humanity. But, because of his age, a grandfather that was a state senator and a father who was the local town justice of the peace, he had been given three years in a juvenile facility.

The trial had been held in the county's family court. The judge was very good friends with the boy's father and grandfather. The boy had been given a virtual slap on the wrist. If he had been tried in any other court, in any other jurisdiction he would have been tried as an adult and given at least twenty years in the state pen. You see, he hadn't just raped Mary, he had also sliced into her body hateful words and symbols. He didn't slice deeply, but the scars would likely be with her the rest of her life.

At the end of the trial Phil had told Mary that when he got out he wanted to see her again, to talk over his stay in jail. He was smart enough to not make it sound threatening. No one could prove that he was threatening her. But she knew, from his look, that he was going to come after her when he got out of the juvenile facility.

Phil Brown was born into a very wealthy white family. He had always been given anything he wanted. When he did things that hurt other people his family either bought their silence or threatened the hurt people with legal harassment and frivolous lawsuits if they tried to press changes.

Mary was an orphan. She had been sent out to live on her own when she reached the age of eighteen. She found work as a waitress at two different establishments. By serving on different shifts she was able to afford a very cheap room and enough food to live on. Mary's ancestry was African. This was in a town with only two black families.

In her work as a waitress she met an old lady, named Isadora, that she especially liked. It wasn't that the lady tipped well or offered anything to her. It was because the lady treated Mary as a lady; a person who mattered. The old woman always called her by name. Mary liked that.

Mary had reached her eighth month of pregnancy. In the restaurant, the old woman spoke to her.

"Mary, how will you handle having a baby and work?"

Mary looked down at the floor and said: "I don't know. I have no family and no financial support so I may be forced to go on welfare. I don't want to do that but may have no choice."

"You didn't choose this pregnancy, did you child?"

"No, it's the result of a rape."

"You didn't abort the child?"

"No, it wasn't the child's fault. I couldn't do that."

Isadora was silent for a moment. Then she said; "I may have some help for you. My family owns the house that I live in. It is very old and has many rooms that I do not use. How about moving into one of my rooms rent free. After the baby is born and you are able to go to work again I can watch the child for you. It has been many decades since my children left my house. It might be nice to hear happy sounds again. Please think about my offer and let me know if you are interested."

"I wouldn't dream of imposing on you. There would be dirty diapers and such. Also, I don't have any medical insurance. I don't even know how I'm going to deliver this child."

"Mary, in my youth I worked at times as a midwife. I have delivered more children that I can count. We can do this without any doctors and hospitals. We just won't have a standard birth certificate."

"If you really want me to move in with you, I would be honored. You have no idea how much your kindness means to me. It is as if you were an angel sent by God."

"You know, Mary, the word angel simply means messenger. Many times in life you will meet an angel and won't even recognize him or her."

"I have one practical question. Do you live near enough to where I work so that I can get to work?"

"No, I don't. But, I like to drive and can make sure you have transportation. Do you have a driver's license?"

"No, I've never had the chance to learn. I have a lot of areas where I am somewhat behind everyone else."

"Don't worry child. We can make it work."

It was two weeks later that the move to Isadora's house was completed. Mary had never seen a house like this before. It was set back in a large grove of trees about a hundred yards off a small secondary road. The house was miles from the nearest neighbor. It had a sort of old, creepy feel to it. It all but oozed a certain "strangeness" that would be obvious to almost any sensitive person.

In spite of the house's strange look, the room that Mary had been given was warm and friendly. The house was nicely decorated, but with some very strange objects. There were assorted glass prisms, sphere's, and strange pictures on the wall. These objects all looked to be very old. The furniture all looked like it had been made in the 1920s.

There were no radio, no television, and no computer in the house.

Mary was awestruck with the contents of the house and overwhelmed by the kindness of Isadora. Within a week or so, Mary had her daughter. She named her Isadora after the kind woman who had taken them in. It was shortly after the birth that a stranger arrived. Her name was Grace. As it turned out, Grace was Isadora's granddaughter. Both Isadora and Grace were happy for Mary. They came up with what turned out to be a good idea.

Isadora spoke first: "Mary, instead of working at the restaurants again would you consider working for us? It would involve cooking, cleaning, and generally helping around the house and yard. We will pay you half again the salary you got from working as a waitress and you will be near your child; like you should be."

"You mean you would pay me to stay here? It sounds too good to be true."

Grace responded, "My grandmother is not very young. She also lives alone most of the time. It will be good for her to have company. She is also very gifted in some very old arts that you might even like to learn."

"What kind of arts are those? Do you mean like painting or weaving?"

"No, but I can show you one of them." Grace led Mary to a room that she had never been in before.

There were shelves loaded with old bottles with hand printed labels that were mostly in Latin or some other language. There was a massive bookshelf that contained all sorts of books on arcane subjects. As Mary would eventually learn, many of these books were written in foreign languages and many were not printed, they were hand written. There were also strange lamps and very strange cooking implements that were not kept in the kitchen area, but were on shelves. Grace went to the shelf with bottles and took five bottles from the shelves. She took down a mortar and pestle and ground some of the contents of three of the bottles and then added a few drops from each of the other two other bottles. The mixture smoked a bit and had a smell that wasn't too bad, but wasn't overly good either.

"Now, Mary, look at that nasty scar on your left hand. Do you really want that scar?"

"No, but plastic surgery can hurt and it costs money."

"What if I told you that I can remove that scar in under a minute and it will never come back again?"

"How could you possibly do that?"

"Watch!"

Grace took a silver spoon and took a small amount of the liquid and a funny looking stick and walked over to Mary.

"Don't be afraid,, this won't hurt at all."

Truth be told, Mary was a bit uneasy with what was going on.

Grace carefully put some of the mixture that she had made on the scar, said a few words that Mary didn't understand and touched the scar with the funny looking stick.

The liquid suddenly glowed a deep violet that shifted into a gorgeous purple. In seconds the liquid was gone; and so was the scar!

Mary was almost in shock. "What just happened? The scar is totally gone! How did you do that?"

Isadora smiled and gently said, "It's an old form of medicine. Almost no one remembers how this art is done, and I am learning how to do it from Grace. She is an expert."

Mary's mind was reeling a bit after this demonstration of power over scars. She started to consider that maybe she didn't know what was real anymore. "If this is real, and it sure looks like it, then much of what I have learned in school is not at all real."

"Well put, Mary, well put. Much of what you have learned is not real. For example you look at that table and believe it is solid. But it isn't. If you were to gather all the 'stuff' that makes up that table in one place (which, by the way, you can't do) you would discover that almost all of the volume of that table is a vacuum, nothing, zip, nada! There are other things that most people 'know' to be true that aren't. Unfortunately, most people are not decent enough to be allowed to learn some of these arts since they could use them to do very bad things. There aren't many of us who still have the knowledge and skill to do this. We think that you have the ability to learn this art. It will take decades, but it will be worth it. Are you interested?"

"Yes, I think so. When can we begin?"

"Tomorrow I will get a simple introductory book for you to learn. It is in English. Later on you will need to learn a few more languages because some of the later work is only to be found in tongues that are not used much anymore."

Grace led Mary into the living room and said: "Now, why don't you go in, feed the baby, and get a good night's sleep. Grace and I have some things to talk over."

Mary did as Isadora suggested. After breast feeding the baby she went to bed.

************************************

Grace opened the conversation. "I know that you need to talk. What is the problem."

"Phil Brown, the monster who raped Mary and then cut words and symbols into her skin, is going to be getting out of Juvenile Hall next week. His relatives have gone to great length, and expense, to get his sentence commuted. He has threatened to find Mary and make her pay for testifying against him. His family has a lot of clout in the area. I'm not sure what we should do to prevent him from hurting Mary, or any other person."

"Hmmm, that is an interesting problem. We could make him disappear, but that would be noticed. If we treat him like we treated that crooked lawyer Mike Murphy we could put the fear of Aziel into him. Or we could mess with his mind so that he will be certifiable to be put away in a prison for the criminally insane. What had you thought of?"

"Well, making him disappear permanently seems a bid drastic, after all he hasn't killed anyone, as far as I know. His mind is indeed twisted. If we could put him over the edge and at the same time show that he is a danger to society as a whole we could arrange for a trial in another jurisdiction. But, I think Aziel is the best answer. Nobody would believe him if he told anyone what he had seen. However, there is a problem with any of these solutions. If he starts to act unlike he has ever acted before, his family will realize that something is wrong. If they then try to get him professional mental counseling he will tell the story in detail and there will be an investigation."

"Grandma, I think we'd be better off simply introducing him to Aziel and putting a spell on him that will give him incredible pain if he starts to approach any woman. We could also use a permanent spell of silence. We can instruct Aziel to hurt him if he speaks about, writes about, or in any other way tries to communicate about what happened to him. How would that be for poetic justice?"

"That sounds good."

"Grandma, I think we will get Mike Murphy to draw up and execute an order of protection that prevents Phil Brown from getting within a hundred yards of Mary. If he gets the order from the superior court judge in the city the local justice of the peace won't be able to do anything about it. It might be just the trick to force our young criminal to go after Mary simply because he has been told that he can't do that. Since he will be told the locations that he must stay away from, he will know where she lives. I think we can start with that. I also think it is bedtime for both of us. I'll talk to you in the morning. I love you grandma."

"And I love you Grace."

The following day Grace went to Mike Murphy's law office.

"Hi Mike, you remember how we helped you get rid of the crooked mayor, judge, and police chief; right?"

"Yes, Grace, I remember. Why do you bring that up?"

"Well, I need a small legal favor. I need an order of protection drawn up and executed here in the city. The actual protection will happen over near where we live."

"Wouldn't it be easier to go to the local magistrate and have it issued there?"

"No, the local justice of the peace is the father of the no good kid, and the kid's grandfather is a state senator. It has to be done by a real judge that the local magistrate cannot intimidate. Our new judge in town used to be the states attorney general. He knows the law and isn't easily intimidated."

"Hmmmmm, from your description I think I remember reading about the case of a little monster named Philip Brown who should have been given twenty to thirty years in the state pen. Is this the same kid?"

"You have a very good memory Mike. Yes, that is him. My bet is that when he is told that he can't come after Mary, who is living with us, he will do it just to show that he can do what he wants. Then, we can introduce him to Aziel."

At the name Aziel, Mike involuntarily shuddered. Mike had also met Aziel. Nobody in their right mind wanted to meet Aziel if they didn't have to; unless they had power over him."

I'll draw up the papers this afternoon and speak to the judge tomorrow. I will quietly clue him in on why I am filing it in his court instead of your local magistrate's office.

By the day after tomorrow we will have the signed court orders. I will pay to have an off duty sheriff's deputy deliver the papers to him, and include a copy to the local magistrate. Is that o.k.?"

"Yes, Mike, that is very good. What is your standard fee for doing this kind of work.?"

"Normally I get about $150. for doing this, plus another $100 to cover the cost of hiring the sheriff's deputy. But, I'll do this for you, free. The case of Philip Brown runs against all I now believe in. He has abused the law and hurt innocent people."

"Mike, you have come a long way in the last few years. It seems like you have indeed changed for the best. However, I insist on paying for this. It is necessary that the fair price be paid so that there will be no question regarding who is responsible for the order of protection."

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Philip Brown was lounging in the living room of his parents house when Sheriff's deputy Miller knocked at the door. Philip's father answered the door, and after a moment called Philip to the door.

"What's this all about?" were the first words from Philip. The sheriff handed the paper to Philip, and said: "I am serving you an order of protection. You are to remain at least one hundred yards from Mary Jones, under penalty of law. There is a second copy of this for your local magistrate."

Turning to Phil's father he handed him a copy of the document. "Please look at the name and location of the judge. You will notice that just a few years ago he was the state's attorney general. He was famous for breaking up criminal activities of those who abused their legal power. He doesn't frighten easily and he has great political clout."

"Why are you telling me that, officer?" Queried Phil's father.

"Off the record, there are people high up in this state government who have been very unhappy about how your son was treated after this rape and mutilation. There are many state officials who believe that the family court judge, and yourself, should be arrested for malfeasance. But again, that is off the record."

The sheriff left.

"Phil, I want you to stay away from that girl. If you break this order of protection I probably can't help you out. For once, you need to follow the rules. If you don't, I will have to side with the authorities if you are caught. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah, you're chicken. I owe that bitch for ratting me out. One way, or another, I'm going to get even with her, and you can't stop me."

"Son, I'm warning you; stay away from that girl. We've done all we can about this problem. I am not going to go to prison by helping you on this one. You are on your own."

"Fine, I can do that. Just stay out of my way!"

It was later that evening when Phil went out for a drive. He slowly went down the road that fronted the house where Mary lived. When he looked at it and realized that it was very isolated he was overjoyed. The power came from a pole on the road and fed the house by means of six poles. The phone line was also on these polls. Best of all, the electric meter was on a stout post next to the end of the driveway. In bad weather it was probably too hard to get in to the house to take a reading.

As Phil drove home he was already seeing how he would do this. If he arrived at, say two in the morning, nobody would recognize the fact that the power had gone out. They also would not notice that the phone didn't work until it was too late. Yes, this would be very easy and he would make her suffer for testifying against him.

****************************

Mounths had gone by since the scar had been removed from Mary's hand. She had been avidly reading the book that Isadora had handed her. She now knew that the medicine that had been used was indeed magic. She had never believed in magic, until that moment. While she was learning from the book, Isadora was teaching her some very basic spells. Thus, the practical and theoretical education was under way.

"Mary, Grace and I want to do some advanced magic to protect you and your daughter. It will require three drops of blood from each of you and will involve meeting a very strange and powerful being. Will you trust us to do this for you?"

"What do I have to do?"

"You will join us, inside a circle in the back yard. None of us, including the baby, will be clothed. There will be a fire and some incantations and the appearance of something beyond your wildest imagination. The thing to remember is that the thing you will see is Grace's servant. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes, I'll try. It sounds intimidating."

"That is an understatement. We have introduced grown men to our servant, Aziel. When they were done most of them passed out from fear. But, in your case he will become your bodyguard. He can be around and not be seen unless he wants to be."

"I'll try to do as you say."

That evening they planned on doing the ceremony before their evening meal.

"Remember, we are dealing with very old magic here. This particular type of magic is best done as seldom as possible, due to its danger."

"Danger!", Mary said, beginning to look even more concerned.

"Yes, danger. This magic opens up a tunnel, so to speak, between a world that is in a totally different dimension than our own. That is why scientific measurements can't detect the spirits. When you open this type of tunnel you don't want to open it into the wrong 'other dimension'". If you were to do so it could be the last magic that you ever performed. We will follow the ancient procedure to the letter. You just need to stand between Grace and me. And you must not say anything! Not even a single syllable. Do I make myself clear?"