Caretaker of the Friendship Tower Dream (Kingdom Lessons 5 version)

By wayneoconner | August 7, 2017

#10 in the Friendship Tower Chronicles series)

Caretaker of the Friendship Tower

[2^nd draft of the Kingdom Lessons Five Version]

Part of the Friendship Tower Chronicles Collection (#10 in the series)

Dreamed about 7 AM on Friday, July 21^st, 2017. Perhaps this is a night vision. I seemed to absorb a great deal of detail, and I was often thinking. Those sections will be in italicized thought dialogue: (Why do I keep running into him, I wondered)

Note: all scripture is from the Restored 1599 Geneva Bible, but where a few words are modified for the sake of the story, those words that are changed will be in bold. The passages will be labeled in the story as Mr. Yagura’s 1599 Geneva Bible.

This was a long and very detailed dream. Even though one horrific event happened in it, I was at peace during the whole dream and after I woke up. I did, however, pray about the dream. I also explained it to a trusted brother and asked him to pray with me about the dream. Except where noted, I made up names or added examples of real Oriental words. For example, Yagura means tower in Japanese. Mr. Yagura referred to himself, or was called the “the caretaker,” several times during the dream.

It started with me seeing a pleasant but eccentric oriental man of early middle age. He waved at me and jabbered in broken English, “Etoo go to ahh, nice-a day to you, ebuka oppuh, Wayno-san!” I could understand the nice day, and though I heard my name, the rest was Oriental sounding gobbledygook.

Hmmm. How did he know my name? I looked him over more closely. Gray streaks marbled through his blue-black hair. It was tied back in a long men’s pony. His bright yellow polo shirt was neatly tucked into creamy corduroy pants. Just like his Reebok walking shoes, each garment looked as if he had plucked them from a store shelf only moments earlier.

Very touristy, I thought. I don’t think that’s what he usually wears. It reminds me of a farmer I knew in a church I attended years ago. Almost every week for two years I saw him come to church dressed in a suit, tie, and slacks combo. I went to visit him after that at his residence. I hadn’t realized that by vocation he was a farm laborer. He answered the door in a grimy white t-shirt that was slick with sweat around the neck and under his arm pits. His bib overalls were ripped and faded. One leg had a long grease or oil stain from hip to knee, and the rest of it looked like it had been swatted several times by manure-slimed cow’s tails. Not that this Asian dude would be grubby if I would ever see him at home. I just feel like what he is wearing is not his style of clothing. He doesn’t feel evil at all. Just the opposite. But there’s a mystery here. Something doesn’t add up.

His face was round, but he was not fat. Deeply tanned, he seemed to exude a sense of great wisdom and inner strength, but also seemed thoughtful and kind -hearted. A winsome chap, he was no taller than five feet eight. He was bow legged, lean at the hips, but with very broad shoulders, thick in the chest and arms. Corded with muscle, he walked lightly on his feet like a great jungle cat. His eyes, ears, and nose seemed larger than usual but did not distract from his handsome appearance. His nose was long and swept up slightly at the tip. Also, his bone structure seemed a bit more defined on his face. Rugged and chiseled, yet almost moon-faced. I could not place his ancestry. It seemed a blend of Native American and Oriental with a strong dash of Genghis Khan. He seemed quite dignified and even noble of character, and by the laugh lines around his nose and lips, I would guess he possessed a fine sense of humor. Yet, not someone you would want for an enemy.

Months and possibly years passed. Occasionally I would see him in a store or public place. Why do I keep running into him, I wondered

From the first time, I had met him unto the last, over the years, Mr. Yagura only seemed to have aged slightly. He was always well dressed in different sets of casual clothes that looked more like costumes for a play than normal daily apparel. Once, when I met him at a local Walmart, in the men’s toiletries section, after he greeted me, he pointed at the package of Equate razors that I had just tossed in my cart. He asked, “What do you call that item, Wayno-san?”

I answered, “Razor blades.”

“Ahh. My English is getting bettah, but I cannot speak some words well. When I say it, I say lazor blades.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that you can’t seem to pronounce the letter R. Your speaking has greatly improved, though, since the first time we met.” I offered.

He smiled and said, “Thank you, Wayno-san.” He added, “I know you’ name, but I have nevah told you mine. When I tell you my name, it will sound like it has an L sound. That is not the way it is supposed to be spoken. See if you can find the light way to say it. My name is Mr. Yagula.”

Hesitantly I replied, “Is it Mr. Yagura?”

Mr. Yagura chuckled, clapped his hands together, and exclaimed, “Velly good, Wayno-san!” From that point on whenever I met Mr. Yagura, he always seemed just as kind and eccentric as ever. The difference was that now that I knew his name he felt more like an old friend, but one I would only meet rarely.

One day when out walking in a town that resembled the one I now live in, Caretaker came walking down the street. He waved a very thick and worn camel-brown book at me and jabbered excitedly, “I know you are a Clisten man. You not know it, Wayno-san. I am a Clisten man, too!” He paused and smiled, “May I read velses for you? I plomise, it bless you, leal good.

Caretaker lifted the book in his left hand and placed his right hand on my shoulder. He read from the book, although I think he could have quoted the verse.

Psalm 115:15-18 (Mr. Yagura’s Geneva Bible 1599)

“¹⁵Ye are blessed of Yahuah, which made the heaven and the earth.

¹⁶The heavens, even the heavens are Yahuah’s: but he hath given the earth to the sons of men.

¹⁷The dead praise not Yah, neither any that go down into the place of silence.

¹⁸But we will praise Yah from henceforth and forever. HALLELUYAH.”

Hmm. Mr. Yagura always seems to read his Bible much slower than he speaks. I wonder why? Whenever he uses an R or L, I have to check the context and interpret, but his English has definitely improved.

Caregiver used more specific terms than Lord or God. Later I noticed that unlike a few Hebrew Roots people I have met, when quoting from the New Testament, Mr. Yagura would say Jesus Yashua or Yashua Jesus. Occasionally he would add the title Messiah or Anointed One. It sounded odd and redundant at first, but as I came to know Mr. Yagura more, I began to use the redundant terms myself from time to time.

I asked the Caretaker if he was reading from the King James 1611 version, to which he shook his head side to side. “Not so, Wayno-san. I am reading a special translation of the 1599 Geneva Bible! It is w’itten in my native language except that genelic words for Lo’d and God have been leplaced with the original Heblaic name.” He closed the book, held it at his left side and took his arm off my shoulder. Caretaker smiled and said, “Jesus, bless you leal good!” then ambled away.

I shook my head. Yes, Mr. Yagura, the caretaker, was quite eccentric, but he gave me a warm fuzzy feeling.

Scene fade. I am not sure how much time had passed. Perhaps a few months. Mr. Yagura was walking near my house as I went outside. Caretaker walked up to me with his book. Caretaker smiled and said, “Good day, Wayno-san. This is impo’tant day for you! Jesus wants to bless you leal good!”

“Greetings and salutations, Mr. Yagura.”

Once again, he opened up his Bible, put his right hand on my shoulder and read a selection from the Book of Matthew,

Mathew 5:2-8 (Mr. Yagura’s 1599 Geneva Bible)

“³Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

⁴Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

⁵Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.

⁶Blessed are they which hunger and thirst for righteousness: for they shall be filled.

⁷Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.

⁸Blessed are the ^pure in heart: for they shall see Yah.”

After Mr. Yagura closed his Bible and removed his hand, he exclaimed, “You must come Wayno-san! You must come. Velly impo’tant!” He beckoned with his hand impatiently, “Come now. Come. Come. Velly impo’tant!”

I did not seem to feel a check in my spirit, and my schedule was open for at least a few days. I followed the Caretaker what seemed only a few blocks to a field with a tower that had a stream running through it. I had never seen either before. Nor had I seen a cobblestone path. It is like the towers in my Friendship Tower dreams, but different, I thought. It was not a single tower and a bit shorter and thicker than the ones I was accustomed to seeing. It was made of stone, but rather than being a single tower; there was a stone rampart bridge on each side of the tower. There was an archway on the right side of the tower where a stream flowed underneath. The other side had an archway as well under the rampart, but a cobblestone path ran under that archway. The top of both ramparts looked slippery and difficult to walk on. There was a stairway in front of the tower, made of thick, sturdy timbers, painted a rusty reddish brown. It went a short way to my left onto a deck and then turned straight up, which led to another wide deck and a quaint, almost medieval door that was built into the side of the gray and white stone tower. Here and there were a few black, green, or blue granite fist-sized stones, but most of the basketball-sized stones were various shades of white and gray.

Caretaker motioned for me to go up the steps in front of him. The air is different here. Everything seems brighter and the colors crisper. Every breath I take seems to fill me with energy. Everything smells great. I feel really alive here. When Mr. Yagura had motioned for me to take the steps. He seemed ready to jog them. I am going to be shaking and winded when I reached the top.

To my surprise, I was only slightly winded for a few seconds and felt invigorated rather than wobbly. Just as I was about to enter the door, a thin, pretty lady with a pale blue cap that resembled an upside-down tulip, opened the door. She looked only slightly Oriental around her sky-blue eyes and looked much younger than Mr. Yagura. Her high cheekboned face with its shapely narrow jaw was lightly tanned, but not as deeply sun-kissed as that of Mr. Yagura. She’s quite attractive, I thought. And she’s tall. Maybe six feet and four inches, but willowy.

Like Mr. Yagura, her eyes seemed slightly larger than I am accustomed to seeing. Also, like Mr. Yagura, her nose, and her ears seemed longer than normal, but well-proportioned and aesthetically appealing. She waved her hands in front of her frenziedly, stepped out the door and jabbered animatedly in broken English and in an oriental dialect similar to that of the Caretaker. I only understood, “Not come in yet! You tainted. You full glassenbalk!” What is glassenbalk? I wondered. When I looked down at myself, I was covered with grass mulch and tree bark. That just makes no sense, I thought, how did I get grass shavings and pieces of bark all over me? I haven’t been doing any yard work. I have been in front of my computer all morning!

The pretty woman pulled a feather duster out of a leather buckskin vest that she wore loosely laced over a pale blue gown that matched her strange upside town tulip cap. Except that it seemed finely crafted from a deer with white spots on the hide, it reminded me of those game hunting vests with built in game sacks on the back. Her legs and hips were covered by the same loose-fitting gown garment that looked like a child’s onesie with attached socks but stuffed into short collared black leather boots that ended in pointy toe tips. I allowed her to sweep the grass clippings and bits of bark off from my shirt and jeans. “Ayoka, this is Wayno-san!” He paused and added, “Wayno-san, this is my wife, Ayoka.”

Note: 8/19/2017. One of my proofreaders noticed that Ayoka was often spelled Ayako throughout my manuscript. I had been finding that issue, before, so I used my multiple correction feature, to fix that issue and had received a message that all the corrections had been made. Then I printed out a copy for her. The errors were still there. I went through today and manually tried to find each error and make the change. Both my software editing programs tell me that Ayoka is an incorrect spelling, but that Ayako is correct. After researching the names again, I found an interesting find. Ayako is a popular Japanese girl’s name. I think I knew that already. What I hadn’t known, is that Ayoka is a rare and ancient African girl’s name. I can’t remember whether Mr. Yagura’s wife was always Ayoka in the dream, or if when I came to write the dream, that when I wondered what I should call her, that the name just popped into my head. I do remember looking up Ayoka when I first used it, but nothing came up in my search. It sounded exotic and so I used it. Today, (8/19.2017) I saw a Wikipedia article that said that the name Ayoka was an ancient African girl’s name which means “bringer of joy.” That fits the dream perfectly, as when she was brought to Mr. Yagura, as a wife, it brought him great joy!

Ayoka smiled warmly and stopped her fluttering. She seems, I thought, the perpetually anxious golden retriever personality type. Nice, but usually quiet and nervous. Caretaker’s wife entered the tower door. I stepped into the tower with Caretaker close behind me.

When I stepped inside, the room was circular and lit by candles and lanterns. There were also a few strange lights. Ancient technological devices that I have read about that seem to last forever use zero-point energy and automatically dimmed about ten hours per day.

As soon as we stepped inside, Mr. Yagura grabbed a robe-like garment that hung on a hook near the door, then wrapped it over his clothes. He kicked off his white Reebok walking shoes and slipped into a pair of shoes that resembled the leather boots Ayoka, his wife, was wearing.

Many strange objects were set on top of coffee tables and the waist high book shelves that encircled the circular room. Dusty tomes and miscellaneous objects from scrolls to fossils, shells and many unknown wooden, metal and fired-clay pots and decorative boxes sat atop the bookshelves. The fine wooden bookshelves surrounded most of the wall space. The surround bookcase was only broken by three doorways. I noticed that the walls did not seem to have the texture of the outer walls.

When I looked up at the ceiling, I solved the mystery. We were standing inside a large round tent! The caretaker motioned me to a strangely curved wooden chair with a thickly padded soft horsehide cover. It reminded me of a Persian chair that I had seen in a movie once. This type of chair was designed so that one could sit or lay down with it. While the outside of the chair seemed to be made from a horse hide of tan brown and white, like that of a paint pony, there was a southwestern motif woolen blanket of burgundy, turquoise, white and forest green that was draped over the gently flowing curved back of the chair. There was also a huge decorative pillow that could be placed behind a person for sitting or removed before lounging.

Two doors, with sparkling beaded ropes and tiny bells hung in front of the inner doorways. The exit door out of the tower did not have rope beads. Caretaker motioned for me, again, to sit in the paint pony horse hide chair. Ayoka entered one of the bead and bell doorways. Following a swishing, tinkling sound she vanished.

Caretaker handed me a thin leather book of pale green, admonished me not to leave the tent, and said he would be back shortly. Not long after he returned, he sat on an ottoman not far from my chair. I noticed he had changed clothes. Mr. Yagura was wearing a black, homespun woolen blouse top, with erratically positioned, thin red and green threads, scattered through the material. He also had a vest like his wife’s, but it was crafted from the hide of a thickly furred dark brown beast. Caretaker wore leather buckskin pants, with calf-length slip-on boots. Wow! You can say that again – backward! There it is. This is his natural clothing style! I was right! He’s not a strong dash of Genghis Kahn right now. He’s 100 percent G.K. But a kinder, gentler version, as the saying goes.

Shortly after Mr. Yagura sat on his ottoman, to the right of what I had heard referred to as a “Hoss” chair, Ayoka returned. She was bearing a platter with a teapot, large wooden cups, sugars, and a shallow fluted dish that contained several white-dusted confections that by taste and texture reminded me of Mexican Wedding cookies.

Caretaker and I spent the day talking. From time to time we would sit down. Most of the time Mr. Yagura and I walked around the room as he showed me various exhibits in the room. He often asked my opinion and was a very engaging lecturer. Before he showed me the artifacts in his museum, Mr. Yagura wanted me to be aware of a few facts upfront.

First, Caretaker had reminded me that Jesus was the Master of the Tower and that he was merely the Caretaker. Second, he had wanted me to know that he was a son of Adam like me. Mr. Yagura also added that he and his wife were very old, but because time passed differently in the tower, and because of the power of “Yeshua Jesus, the Anointed One,” both he and Ayoka had been gifted with superlative health and longevity.

From time to time I would feel the Holy Spirit moving. The Spirit would give me impressions or remind me of different scripture verses.

Four or five times during the day Ayoka brought food on platters. Mostly she brought trays of coffee, tea or Yak’s milk. The main food was usually a small portion and light like a salad. Once she brought carved beef slices, cheese, and a crusty hard roll. With it, she had served a white sauce with yellow spots that was like horseradish with tiny lumps of brown mustard. I noticed that Mr. Yagura’s family rarely used utensils at the table. A small flat wooden spoon, however, was kept in the spicy sauce dish and used for the rolls.

Rather than eat them as sandwiches, the buns were pulled in half, and the meat and cheese were draped on top of the smooth side of the bun. Then a dollop of the horseradish was added for garnish. So it was a kind of reverse open-faced sandwich.

We also shared red cherry tomatoes, yellow sweet pepper slices, and black olives. When we shared the beef and cheese and hard roll meal, Ayoka joined us, but mostly Mr. Yagura and I ate together, during short breaks, as we talked throughout the day. Often, we walked around the tent. At times we sat. Sometimes we talked about scripture. At other times, he pulled various objects off from the tops of the waist-high surround bookcases. Mr. Yagura then talked to me about ancient animals, lost civilizations, legends of giants, fallen angels, forgotten technological oddities and men and women of different times and locales who loved and served Jehovah or Yah in remarkable ways during the ancient days. Even though I found it hard to understand him, I always found Mr. Yagura’s history lessons and discussions fascinating.

Towards evening Mr. Yagura pulled a bell from his many pocketed vest. The fine silver bell rang with a melodious clarity. Ayoka appeared and to my surprise brought with her a young woman who looked a bit oriental around the eyes but seemed very fair-skinned and Caucasian in appearance. She looked to be in her mid to late twenties, with long brown hair which hung freely mere inches above her shoulders. The lady wore a long gown of emerald, tied at the waist and leather, ankle-high, moccasins of deerskin. The girl did not look at all like the caretaker and only vaguely reminded me of Ayoka, whose ash-blond hair peeked from beneath her pale blue flower shaped cap. Princess seemed to be Mr. Yagura’s height, with a body build similar to Ayoka.

Her lovely nose was long, and a bit flared at the sides, but not long in the same way as that of Mr. Yagura and his wife. She had a high forehead, and an oval face, that narrowed down to a slender chin with a slight vertical chin indentation. I could not tell if her eyes were brown or hazel, but I do not think they were any shade of blue. She was about five-seven to five nine in height.

Caretaker bowed and said formally, “Wayno-san, I am pleased to introduce you to Plincess.” Right, I thought, Princess. Fitting. All of the Friendship Tower girls are princesses. She is attractive. They are all supposed to be average but look very attractive to me. Is she a mix of all of them? Is she the new one? Does she symbolize one of the ten? Or one I have never met?

Princess curtsied to me, and said, “Yes, Wayno-san, I am Princess, and I am glad to meet you!”

Caretaker continued, “We all call he’ah Plincess. Use that name, Wayno-san.” He laughed, “we also call her Lady of Dlagons, too! But not too often. Yes, Plincess has many names. One of them is Ca’ie.”

I stiffened and then relaxed. Even though I did not hear Caretaker enunciate the R letters, I immediately did the translation. She did not look like any of the Friendship Tower Girls I knew. I thought I felt the Holy Spirit say that just because Mr. Yagura and her wife called her Carrie, that she was not necessarily the Carrie I knew. Like the other Friendship Tower Girls, I sensed that while generally a very nice and talented lady, that she had a dark side to her personality and could be moody at times.

She curtsied and greeted me.

Ayoka said, “We usually call he’ah Plincess. One name velly long. Ha’d say.” She grinned, “Call he’ah Plincess or long one. You’ah choice, Wayno-san.”

“How do you say it the other way?” I asked the Princess.

Princess replied, “Starts out like the male name Mitch and has a clear your throat sound just before the last two syllables. Michikotakaarahikari. I’ll say it again, slower. Michi-ko-taka-uh-ruh-hiii-kay-ree. It means beautiful, wise child of treasure and light.”

I chuckled, “You are quite correct. Beautiful name, but very hard to say. I’ll stick with Princess.”

I remained in my Persian chair. Feels kind of like a throne or a Chieftan’s chair. Caretaker moved a low table in front of me, and Princess, Ayoka, and Mr. Yagura placed fur rugs on the floor around the table. They reclined around the table, rather than use chairs or ottomans during the meal. Princess sat directly in front of me. Mr. Yagura and his wife sat at the corners of the table just to my right.

Caretaker thanked Jesus for our meal and fellowship. Ayoka lifted the cover from a large serving pan, which had sat at a folding serving table, between her and Princess. She deftly removed a metal bowl with what looked like brown gravy over small chunks of chicken and shredded beef and placed it on the low dining table. Next, she sat a platter on the table and handed a loaf of bread like French Bread to Princess.

Princess deftly separated the rustic bread into finger size chunks and placed it on the platter next to the bowl of gravy.

Ayoka presented a bowl with small mixed raw vegetables to each of us. She also sat out folded napkins and water bowls and little gray crocks that contained fermented carrots and shredded cabbage soaked in sweet and sour vinegar. Next, she handed out clusters of red grapes for each place. Last, she handed Mr. Yagura a decanter of wine and small brown wooden cups. He poured red wine into each cup and handed it out to Princess first, myself second and his wife last.

Mr. Yagura asked Princess if she would bless the cup or if she wished to pass the blessing. Princess looked at me, paused, then agreed to give the blessing. I’ve been through this before. Is this symbolic of when that happened or is this a portent of a new incident that is yet to come?

Only after I had drunk did Mr. Yagura, and Ayoka follow. Sitting their cups down, Caretaker selected a finger of bread, dipped it into the gravy, and carefully moved it onto a small platter, which he sat before him. He motioned to us all with a hand gesture. I hesitated as Princess and Ayoka took portions of bread and gravy, and I followed suit. I watched as the family alternated between taking new fingers of bread dipped in gravy and selected grapes, mixed raw vegetables or pinched wads of fermented slaw. Occasionally they would stop, dip their fingers in the water bowl and carefully dry their fingers with a napkin. How can they eat so neatly? I groused to myself.

Following the meal, he signaled for Princess and Ayoka to take away the dishes. Mr. Yagura wiped down the low table with a cloth. After that, he blew out most of the candles and Japanese lanterns that sat around the tent. The ancient high-tech lights on the walls above the book cases had dimmed to almost nothing. Caretaker left one candle on behind me. He also left another small one burning on the opposite side of the room. Mr. Yagura also left the one burning that had been near the table when we dined.

When Princess returned, she was wearing a simple white blanket wrapped around her like a robe. Her arms were placed through slots in the sides of the garment. Princess slowly walked to about four feet from where I was sitting, and Caretaker was standing. Mr. Yagura bowed lightly. When she approached, Mr. Yagura bid her good night, hugged her, and kissed her cheek. Next, he bowed to me and bid me a good evening.

Then to my surprise, he motioned to Princess, much like he had when it was time for the rest of us to partake in the food at the last meal. Princess curtsied to me, after a brief hesitation, as she looked inquiringly at me, then I bowed back. Caretaker held out his hand, palm up and said to me, “If need, use lidded bucket behind Hoss Chair, Wayno-san. Stay this side of the tent!” He paused, looked at Princess and said, “You stay opposite side of Wayno-san tent. Do not leave Wayno-san tent unless feeling unsafe or need use chambel pot in Plincess tent.” He bowed once more to both of us and exited the tent. Wow. This looks more and more like I’m being invited into a betrothal. I can’t believe they are trusting her to sleep in the same room with me! Or that she seems willing.

Princess went to the opposite side of the tent, unrolled what looked like a bear-skin and grabbed a long round pillow from the bottom cubicle of the bookshelf and then laid down on the bear robe. After a few minutes, she sat up, folded her arms around her knees and asked, “May we talk, Wayno-san?” To my surprise, even though she seemed to understand the broken English and Oriental language used by Caretaker and Ayoka, she could speak either that or American English fluently.

I replied, “What do you want to talk about?”

“Do you know we have known you for a long time? When I was a little girl the Master of the Tower told Mr. Yagura about you. From time to time we would get special information about events in your life. We prayed for you often.”

I asked, “Are you saying Princess, that you and your family have always known me?”

“Not always, Wayno-san. Mr. Yagura has known you for a long time. He has watched you for years. Do you know that at times when you did not have work he secretly placed food at your door or arranged for others to give you food or American dollars? Do you know that sometimes when you were sick, and Jesus did not heal you, that Mr. Yagura would arrange to have someone send you medicine or influence your friends to convince you to see a medical professional? Ayoka and I only met you today, but,” she grinned, “we have studied you like one of Mr. Yagura’s relics!” She continued, “Mr. Yagura has been the Caretaker here at the tower for ages. He has watched over you most of your adult life.”

I remember some of these things from real life! Is this just prop material for my brain making sense of the dream or is there an important prophetic element here?

I was stunned. I asked Princess, “Do you have any more questions? Or things you’d like to share.”

She remained silent for a few seconds, then answered, “No. Much I would like to say would be considered improper.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, Princess?” She was silent momentarily. “Maybe. Most of the questions that you wish to know are probably improper at this time. You may ask me three questions, but I do not know if I will be able to answer them.”

“O.K. My first question. If Mr. Yagura and Ayoka are not your parents, what happened to your parents?” I paused. “My second question. How do you speak so well, Princess? I may have heard you say a strange turn of phrase or two. I know you understand Caretaker and Ayoka’s strange Oriental English language, but you seem to know American English as well. How is that? And third, are you a follower of Jesus? Do you know Princess, that He is real and wants to be your friend as well as Master of your life?”

Princess laughed, “That’s more than three questions! But some of the questions are culturally inappropriate in the estimation of Mr. Yagura and Ayoka; it evens out.”

She paused, “Question one. I cannot answer that question right now.

“Question two. Jesus has provided other teachers throughout my life. One teacher taught me contemporary American English and culture. I think he may have been an angel, but he would never tell me about that. Mr. Yagura and Ayoka also arranged to take me on little vacations, a few times every year, so that I could learn in a more hands on way. That was meant to enhance what I learned from my tutor.

“Question three. Yes. I think I know Jesus Yeshua quite well. Mr. Yagura says, however, that I am a very intelligent girl, but that I do not know as much about Jesus or am as close to Jesus as I think. He also says that even though I love Jesus, that I can be very moody at times and have a dark side to my personality, which can be used by the dark ones to cause manifestations around me or hinder my spiritual maturation. That’s why he sometimes calls me Lady of Dragons.” Princess smiled with one side of her mouth, but her eyes danced merrily. She paused, then continued, “Goodnight Wayno-san.”

“Goodnight, Princess. My name is actually Wayne. Please call me Wayne.”

She laughed once more, then added, “It would be inappropriate at this time. Soon. Soon if you want me to call you Wayne, instead of Wayno-san, it will be appropriate for me to do so. You probably do not know it, but the word san on the end of Wayno-san, in Mr. Yagura and Ayoka’s culture, means that you are a very dear and honored friend.”

“I did not know that. Good night Princess. See you in the morning.”

Her breath caught suddenly, and then she replied, “Yes. Indeed you will, Wayno-san.You will see much more of me tomorrow than you did today.” There was something hidden, something melodramatic in that statement. Yeah, she’s a Friendship Tower Girl. “Strong artistic/dramatic tendency” is on the list. Well, I’m probably just overthinking this. Most likely I’m just imagining things. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow. I am supposed to be a man of great faith, and I am, but my middle name is Thomas. Read that as doubting Thomas. I don’t want to be double-minded and unstable in all my ways.

I fell asleep. When I woke up, it was the middle of the night. Or maybe I was just dreaming. I don’t know. The three candles were burning low and danced lethargically. It looked as if Princess was turning restlessly in her night robe. Did I just see two monster bird legs with talons emerge from her blanket robe and grab items off from the walled bookshelf? Am I dreaming that? Am I imagining this? What does it mean? Is this prophetic? I don’t know why I am not afraid or disturbed. I should be. That was pretty horrific. How am I going to fall asleep…now…?

I woke up later, and only one candle was wanly flickering. I arose from the Hoss recliner chair, stretched, stifled a yawn, and relieved myself in the chamber pot behind it. Great, I knocked over the toilet paper! I’ll have to find where it rolled off to in the morning. At least it didn’t fall off the cabinet into the chamber pot. That would have been a typical Wayne move.

I sat back in my chair, twisted over on my side and laid back in it, trying to find a position that didn’t twist my crooked spine. My thoughts began to ramble. Do they use toilet paper? Or did they just get a stash for my visit? Do they use old rags or corn cobs instead? Or do they wash their keisters with their left hands like Muzzies? No! Disgusting thought! I can’t see them doing that. They use both hands to eat. Yeah. Yeah. I remember that. That’s good to know. I know they must buy things, but they also seem to live without many things I take for granted. They must not have a real toilet in the tower, or they wouldn’t be using chamber pots. And they seem to make many of their own clothes and tools. But they must buy some clothes. The clothes that Mr. Yagura wears when I have seen him near the places I have lived were bought. I know …they …didn’t…make…

When I awoke and used the chamber pot again, I heard the swish and tinkle of the belled and beaded door curtain. Mr. Yagura, his hair wet and wearing a robe, but one with arms that looked like a poncho made out of an old blanket, had arrived. Caretaker nodded at me and asked if I was finished with the chamber pot. He placed a new one behind the chair, picked up the fallen toilet paper and sat it on the little cabinet that housed the chamber pot, and took the old bedpan away.

I sat and watched Princess. She was laying on her side, in a fetal position, wrapped in her white night robe. New candles had been placed on the circular bookshelf and in some of the Japanese lanterns. Listening to her breathe and watching her hair all tumbled about her, I remembered the prophecies about the Friendship Tower Girls. Is the Princess a new one or symbolic of an old one? I did not know. Suddenly Mr. Yagura was back. I had not heard the swish and tinkle of the beaded curtain this time. He could be so quiet at times, like a ghost moving softly through the mist.

Caretaker looked at me, put his finger over his lips, in what must be a universal sign for being quiet and then pointed at me, pantomimed what looked like a motion for “stay seated.” Then he pointed at my eyes and then pointed at Princess. I noticed just then that Ayoka was standing quietly behind one of the beaded curtains looking into the room, one hand over her mouth, leaning slightly forward as if in hushed anticipation. Something’s up, or Ayoka would not be standing there, hiding in the shadows, in the stairwell behind the beads. This has got to be part of their courtship ritual. I can’t be imagining this!

Caretaker’s little silver bell appeared in his hand, and he shook it twice. Princess awoke and shook her head. She flounced her dark brown hair, as if shaking awake, froze momentarily. Princess then hugged her arms around her knees briefly. Then in one fluid motion, she stood and took three steps forward facing me.

While the light was dim, it seemed, by her facial expression and body posture that she was both embarrassed and happy simultaneously. Princess stepped forward one more step, not taking her eyes off me, and bowed slightly, not curtseying as usual

Next, Princess did a slow twirl and came around facing me once more. She paused, looked into my eyes, struggled for breath, and smiled. Then her tongue, licked her lips. No, that wasn’t suggestive. She’s just anxious. It was not a slow lick. It was quick. Really quick. A few times quick. She’s just nervous, but a happy nervous, I think.

Bouncing her unruly hair, head held high, she walked through the curtain where her mother was standing. They hugged and walked what appeared to be down a winding stair. They hugged! This has to be part of a courtship ritual! Is this a Friendship Tower Girl? If she is, is she an old one or a new one? I don’t have a clue. Does this have prophetic significance for my real-life situation? Or is this just a carrot on a stick and one more opportunity, in real life, to experience Death of a Vision, one more time? Is this just a teaching lesson for my next book? I don’t know.

Caretaker said, “Uja! Wa uh nay! Up Wayno-san. Walk alound the ‘oom. When Plincess finishes her yokujo…when Plincess fleshens up, we’ll eat.” What is Uja, Wa uh nay? I wondered. It sounds Native American. Yokujo must mean, wash up or brush your hair and teeth.

Mr. Yagura pulled his Bible from off the top of the bookshelf behind him and read Psalm 121.

Psalm 121:1-8 (Mr. Yagura’s 1599 Geneva Bible)

¹I will lift up mine eyes unto the mountains, from whence my help shall come.

²Mine help cometh from Yahuah, which hath made the heaven and the earth.

³He will not suffer thy foot to slip: for he that keepeth thee, will not slumber.

⁴Behold, he that keepeth Israel, will neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵Yahuah is thy keeper: Yahuah is thy shadow at thy right hand.

⁶The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

⁷Yahuah shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall keep thy soul.

⁸Yahuah shall preserve thy going out, and thy coming in from henceforth and forever.”

Caretaker cleared his throat. “This is fo’ah you! Yah bless you leal good, Wayno-san! All you’ah life!”

One of my first mentors in Jesus, Jerry, who I had met not long after college, had given me this verse in a prophecy as my life verse. He said it was a special promise from the Lord of protection and provision for me.

Caretaker moved another ottoman that had been sitting lonely in a shadowy place in another area of the room. My first thought had been hidden corner, but the round room did not have corners. Unlike the burgundy piece that he had been using at the right of my Hoss chair, it was made of the same brown and white paint pony hide as my chair. Caretaker walked it over to the last place where Princess had stood before she had bowed to me and gently dropped it. He then sat up the low dining table as had the night before. He placed three cushions around the table. Princesses’ cushion was not too far in front of the newly placed horse hide ottoman.

The swish of beads and bells announced the entrance of Princess and Ayoka into the room. Ayoka carried a platter with tea and wooden cups and crocks of sugar and yak cream. When Princess entered the room, she was beaming. Her hair was freshly combed, and she was wearing a calf length gown of checked white and gray. A mother of pearl clasp fastened the top just below her neck, and a red corded tasseled rope fastened the gown about her waist. Did they make this gown or did they buy it? She’s so beautiful!

Princess was carrying a covered gray crock with tiny dishes and scarlet napkins rolled inside wooden green rings. Caretaker thanked Yashua Jesus, the Anointed One, for our meal. As Ayoka poured tea for us, Princess handed out the little bowls of home-made white yogurt mixed with freshly diced berries. Mr. Yagura opened the lidded pot in the center of the table and pulled out a handful of coconut, dried nuts, and mixed fruit.

This reminds me an Icelandic breakfast that was just posted on Facebook that is supposed to be far healthier than most American and European meals.

We all added toppings to our yogurt. No spoons. My guess is that we’ll use our thumbs and eat it like Eskimos. Yeah. I was right!

Following the tea, Mr. Yagura spoke to Princess and Ayoka in his native language. Princess said, “You have visitors coming. Your friends Mark and Brent have been worried about you. I will go downstairs with Ayoka, but I will be coming back later. Mr. Yagura wants me to share some legends with you from when he was younger. He will monitor my presentation, but I will share the story with you, Wayno-san!”

“That’s great Princess. I’d like that. When are my friends coming?”

“Soon. Mr. Yagura will go get them now.”

“Wait here, Wayno-san. I will be right back.”

Caretaker walked towards the tower exit door, but stopped and pulled off his blanket robe and hung it on the wall peg. Underneath he had been wearing a white woolen sweater and blue jeans. Mr. Yagura stepped out of a pair of slippers and donned the walking shoes he had been wearing when he brought me to the tower. Mr. Yagura exited out the tower door. Princess was leaving, but I asked her, “What is it like downstairs?”

She turned and answered, “the floor just below this one is another circular room. It has a fire pit in a vented opening. Like a large fireplace where you come from, but extra-long, high and deep. Made for cooking. It has a spit for roasting and metal grates for grilling. There are hooks, and we have pots and pans and kettles. There is also a pantry and work tables. And a barrel cut in half for the wash and rinse tubs. We don’t have hot and cold running water here like I expect you have at your house.”

“Yes, I have hot and cold running water. Sinks for doing dishes and getting cooking or drinking water. Machines for washing clothes and a bath tub with a shower. No chamber pots. I have a flush toilet.” I really want to know more about the tower, I thought. After a pause, I added, “So, the tower goes deeper? Will I get to see it?”

“Soon. The third floor is a larger round room. It has a tent like this for me. This is actually Mr. Yagura’s “man cave” or den, as you say in the city where you live. Ayoka has a tent like mine for when she wants to be alone. Mr. Yagura and Ayoka have their sleeping tent, and there is another tent, a communal round tent, with couches and low tables, that functions as a living room. There is also a door there on the wall, and if you play the right tune on an instrument, it opens outside where we have a farm with chickens, ducks, yaks and a few dogs and cats. We also gather raw nuts and berries and have a garden and fish in the lake. We hunt stags and bears and goats and rabbits, too. Would you believe I have shot stags with crossbows or killed them with spears? I can even gut them out and prepare them for smoking or cooking. Not my favorite activity mind you, but I can do it if I need, too.

“We also have wooden pole-racks for smoking meat and fish at the farm. Mr. Yagura’s tribe smoked it this way. It is more brittle than the jerky you are probably accustomed, too, but it stores well and tastes fine. Anyway, on one of our family adventures, we went to a store at Two Harbors, Minnesota. Weldon’s Gift shop, I think. We went through your portal, along a lake called Superior, and the jerky there was round and tender. Not rough strips like ours. It was soft, chewy, and delicious.

“There are two guardians of Yah there who protect us, at the farm. Well, they go away on missions, too. Of course, unless they let us see them, we only know they are often there. They usually don’t come in the tower unless they have a reason. Mostly they are not visible, but we know that it is their duty to watch over us for Yeshua Jesus.

She’s quite a woman, I thought. Intelligent and pretty, and she communicates well, but she can also kill a deer and prepare it for food!

“The Guardians traveled with Mr. Yagura, to a city where you were living at the time. Fifteen yearly cycles ago, when I was fifteen, I ran away.

“Something happened when I was working at the farm in that place outside the tower, and it made me mad. Really mad.”

Princess gazed into my eyes, anger, and emotional pain etched across her face. She continued, “I was so mad that I jumped off a cliff by the farm into the deep water. One of the angels pulled me from the lake and put me back at the long house. I decided to run away from the tower, to a place where you visited once in the south west. I am sorry to say I was wild and got in with the wrong crowd, but when they came to find me, I was no longer there of my own free will. I was ready to come back.” Princess hung her head. “It was a bad time. Wayne…Wayno-san and it is not appropriate for me to talk with you about that yet. I talked to you too much already. We will talk later.”

That doesn’t sound good! Did she end up in jail? Did she join a street gang? Was she captured by human traffickers? Is this just part of the show for the dream? Or does this reflect some real event in the life of one of the Friendship Tower Girls?

Princess walked quickly through the beaded and belled curtain, which swished and jingled as she exited.

Then I remembered a dream I had had just before the dating site lady (she had said she was thirty, but when I met her she was about fifty), who had not been a friendship tower girl, drove from Ohio, to meet me. I had been pressured to go to a Christian dating site even though the Lord had told me that I could not do that. And I gave in. I did tell her about the Friendship Tower Girl rules, and that unless Jesus gave her permission to be an FTG, that He would separate us if she were not to be in my life. The lady had mocked me about my belief on the matter. She said that God didn’t talk to her like I thought He did with me. She opined that even if the Lord did talk with me, He would never make Friendship Tower rules for me. But when she entered my house she was weeping. She had said, “I have never heard God’s voice, but He said very firmly and angrily, ‘No! Wayne is not for you!’ I can’t believe He talked to me like that!”

I hugged her, and shortly after that, she had driven back home.

The next time I had gone to sleep I had had a dream. In the dream a young girl, although I could only see her outline, yelled, “How could you betray me, with that woman Wayne! You belong to me!” Then she had jumped off a cliff into a deep lake. An angel had pulled her out of the water and carried her to land. I woke up from the dream happy that the old woman had not been an FTG but devastated that I was still going to be alone. I wondered what the dream about the girl who had been saved by an angel was all about.

I exited the memory of the woman from the Christian dating site, and the recollection of the mysterious dream, of the translucent FTG, who had been saved by an angel. I tried pushing aside the memory of the old dream, while still locked in the present dream of the “Caretaker of the Tower.”

As the Princess walked away, I was so shocked that I couldn’t speak. I thought, That sounds like that dream I had in my house in Bruce, Wisconsin! Seventeen or eighteen years ago! Was that young girl in that dream this Princess? Or did the dream just come back to me, in this, the Caretaker dream, because it seems to fit! This is really weird! When she was young, did I do something that gave the Enemy grounds to manifest in her life? Was it my fault that the Princess in this dream, or a real-life FTG, tried to kill herself, and then ended up running away from her parents? This is really overwhelming!

While I thought of dozens of questions, questions that needed answers, Mark and Brent, entered the tower with Caretaker.

Mr. Yagura swept his hand toward me, “See, I tell you, Wayno-san is fine!”

We hugged, and then Mark and Brent sat on a small bench that Mr. Yagura pulled out and placed in front of my Hoss chair.

Brent said, “You have been gone three days! We were worried about you!”

Time passes differently in the tower. I heard that said recently. I came to the tower late in the morning yesterday, and it is only late morning now. Three days have gone by at my house?

Mark said, “He called to see if you were with me. When I came to your house to find Brent, an angel appeared and told us that you were visiting a servant of Jesus. The angel said the man would come to visit us in a few minutes. He said that the man who could take us to visit you was called Yagura.”

They asked me several questions and then Mark blurted, “Wayne! What happened to your finger?” Brent yelled, “Yagura! You lied! You promised us that Wayne was safe!”

Caretaker jumped up and waved his hands, much the same way that Ayoka had when she had dusted off the bark and lawn clippings from my clothes outside the tower door exit. Mr. Yagura exclaimed loudly in his language that sounded like a mixture of Oriental and Native American words.

I looked at my hands. I was stunned. My ring finger was just a tiny stub. The wound was healed, and there was no blood.” Brent pointed at my feet. “Wayne, have you seen your feet?”

What? What about my feet? Horrified, I looked at my feet. My shoes and socks were gone! I don’t know why I didn’t feel pain. Most of my toes were gone. Not only that, one of the stubs, the second to last toe on my left foot was black and green and starting to stink! Blood and infected fluid were leaking from my other damaged toes. Only my right big toe was untouched. It, however, had the ugly fungus nail that I have in real life which is trimmed, with others, every three months by a diabetic foot specialist. Mark and Brent began to clasp their hands over their mouths and make gagging sounds. They ran quickly to the tower door and bolted from the tower. I am sure that neither one of them would have left me in real life, but that is what happened in the dream.

“Not wolly! Not wolly, Wayno-san! Yeshua Jesus will fix!”

“What about Brent and Mark?”

Not wolly about that now! Gua’dian is esco’ting them home. They wollied, but the Gua’dian will tell them that Jesus fix!”

“A guardian angel is escorting Mark and Brent home?” I asked.

“Yes. Angels all ovah. Room full of angels a few minutes ago. We have two Fighting Angels, velly strong, that a’ah ‘sponsible for my family’s safety. Not always alound, but mostly. Other lesser gua’dians come and go.” He paused for breath, “Now we play fo’ah you! No wolly, Jesus will fix! You will see, Wayno-san. You will see!”

Caretaker prayed for me. I am not sure why, but he prayed for my finger first. After a minute or two of animated prayer, most of which I could not understand, except for a few Yah’s, Jesus Yashua’s and Yahuah Rophe’ka’s, my ring finger extended and was whole once more. Then he knelt and commanded something. My toes that were stubs grew out quickly, waving like little fingers, but still, the one toe remained, whole, but stubbornly green. The black had disappeared, but the toe was the color of milky pea soup. Mr. Yagura put his hand on my foot and began praying again and soon the toe was healed. My feet looked much better than they do in real life. The fungus toes and even the bunions were gone from my feet.

Caretaker walked over to one of the bookshelves and opened a box and removed a rag and a spray bottle. I expect the cleaner was a disinfectant of some type. Mr. Yagura pulled on medical gloves, then cleaned up the blood and gore from the floor near my Hoss chair. He then walked around his tent, bending over, peering into the shadows and looking everywhere. Finally, he came back with my socks and shoes and handed them to me. “All fixed, Wayno-san! I am velly solly! Velly solly!”

When Princess appeared, following the swish and tingle of the rope bead and bell doorway curtains, she entered from the descending stairwell. Caretaker was immediately at her side. Once again, he was very animated. Princess looked pale and aghast. Finally, Caretaker looked at both of us and said, “Velly bad this, but Jesus fix!” He paused and continued, “We will not talk of this again!”

Caretaker pointed at the horsehide ottoman. Princess sat on it and then looked at me. I was sitting in the Hoss chair stroking the fur of the chair which looked so much like the Princesses’ ottoman. Mr. Yagura pointed at Princess and grunted. She blushed again and then removed her deer skin moccasins and socks. Once again, she looked at me attentively and said, “Wayno-san, Mr, Yagura wants me to tell you how he came to live in the tower.”

I nodded my head. Caretaker sat on his burgundy ottoman to the right of my chair. I continued to watch Princess who sat straight ahead of me, a few feet away, on her Ottoman which seemed as if it had been fashioned from a paint pony hide similar to my Hoss chair. I tried to ascertain the color of her eyes. Were the orbs brown or a shade of hazel? They did not seem to be blue or unnatural.

She said, “When Mr. Yagura was young, much younger than I am, he was an important member of the Horse Clans. Even though he was very short for the people of his time, he was strong and quick and smart. Until he had earned their respect, he had been called many names that meant runt or midget. Both the Horse Clans and the Islanders that had joined their tribe were a tall people, but they were like runts and midgets compared to evil ones of the forbidden mixture that came to roam the lands scant decades later. While he could never have been a chief, he was respected by his clan for his wisdom and honor. Mr. Yagura was also a well-respected warrior as well as a gifted artisan and blacksmith. Clans came from far and wide to trade for his work.

Mr. Yagura’s people were like the Mongolians from your history, but not the same. Yagura and Ayoka’s clan were a mixed people. Ayoka’s tribe was a tall and willowy people called Islanders who had lived on a large island off the coast, a far ride out onto the sea. Yagura’s clan had traded with them and then offered to let them join when the island began slowly sinking after an earthquake. Mr. Yagura’s clan were barrel-chested nomadic herders of ancient Asian descent. Both Yagura’s clan and Ayoka’s parents’ tribe had, in the beginning, served Yah.”

Caretaker said, “It is written in Matthew 15:8, “This people draweth near unto me with their mouth, and honoreth me with the lips, but their heart is far off from me.” (Mr. Yagura’s 1599 Geneva Bible) Since the verse was so common, I had no need to translate his missing letter R’s.

Princess continued, “He’s quoting from the Geneva translation, that’s older than your original 1611 King James. Mr. Yagura prefers that Bible. That Bible was new when he received it.” She shook her mane and said, “You think I am joking, don’t you? Maybe I am Wayno-san, and maybe I am not.

“Anyway, even though they were a people of the book, they had turned from Yah, and their hearts had grown cold. A Monk of Yah came down from the mountains. He warned them of Yah’s wrath if they did not repent. When Mr. Yagura repented, his own wife mocked him in front of the clan. The chief only sneered at Mr. Yagura’s weakness but ordered his crossbowmen to shoot a volley around the monk, as he walked away from them, back to the mountains. That signaled that the Monk of Yah was no longer welcome to enter Horse Clan lands. To be allowed the rank of Horse Clan Warrior, one was required to be able to hit targets the size of a grapefruit with a cross bow or spear, while mounted on a charging horse. The Horse Clan Calvary was legendary across the huge continent even beyond the large expanse of plains they called home. If they had wanted to kill the Monk of Yah, unless he would have been divinely protected, he would have died that day. I doubt one bolt would have missed. The war chief and his clan, except for Mr. Yagura, were in the drinking pavilion, making toasts and boasts, mocking Yah and watching His monk depart. When the monk was a distant speck, judgment struck.

“That sky was clear and the wind light, but there were massive reverberating sounds of rolling thunder. Then lightning bolts struck the tent, killing all inside except for a toddler girl on her mother’s hip. Even a few of the Yaks and horses and dogs died.

Mr. Yagura mourned the loss of his clan and his wife but did his best to care for the young girl. The monk returned a fortnight later and said he would take the girl and raise her. In that time and culture, Monks of Yah were not required as a general rule to forgo taking a wife, but they did live in close-knit communities. Monks of that time were not celibate. They were much like judges and prophets in the Bible. The monk asked Mr. Yagura, and that was not his name then if he would like to serve Yah. He replied that his heart was still grieving, but that Yah was mighty and worthy of honor. He said he would be willing to be a monk and serve Yah.

The monk laughed and said, “No, that is not what he is asking you to do. He is asking you to be a caretaker over a tower in a different time and faraway place. It will be lonely most of the time as if you were on a ship, lost at sea, stranded on a deserted island.”

Mr. Yagura had replied, “I had but just recently opened the scroll with my wife and waited for her bringing and He took her away. And my people. I have nothing else to do. And like I said, my heart is grieving, but Yah is mighty, and He is worthy of all honor.”

I turned to Mr. Yagura, who had been listening to the Princess tell his story, and asked him. “Is Ayoka your second wife, Mr. Yagura? How did you find her here in the tower? Weren’t you all alone, except for the angels, I mean Guardians?”

“Not plopah question, Wayno-san! But Plincess will tell you how I met Ayoka.” He motioned to Princess to continue the tale.

“I will work that into the story, Wayno-san.” She blushed and looked down at her feet, and blushed once more before continuing, “The two Guardians who guard the tower here and now came and introduced themselves as servants of Yah and the pre-incarnate Yeshua Jesus. The angels asked Mr. Yagura to gather up tents and supplies, and then translated them all to the tower. They even showed him how to use a flute to make a sound combination that opened a door into a secluded mountain valley that he had turned into a farm. Later they had brought him horses and yaks, and other farm animals that had belonged to his clan.

When Mr. Yagura found out that Yah had a book in modern times, he wanted one. Of course, it was back in the 1500’s your time Wayno-san when Yah prepared this tower. So, one of the Guardians gave him a copy of the 1599 Geneva Bible. Of course, Mr. Yagura could not read it, so the Guardian returned later with a new copy. The new copy had been translated for the caretaker. Mr. Yagura’s version had some Hebrew words but was mostly the written language of his people, which has words similar to Japanese.”

“That’s neat, Princess, but how did Mr. Yagura meet Ayoka?”

“The other angel came one day a few decades later. He told Mr. Yagura that Jesus Yeshua said that he was suffering because of his loneliness. In his heart, Mr. Yagura was saying, ‘Where can I find a good wife? My clan was killed and the other clans, if they live are probably so different that we would not be a good match.’

The Guardian answered, ‘No, the other clans were eaten by the sons of my former brothers, the fallen ones who left their first estate. No, they were gone long before the great waters came.’

‘What will you do for me then?’ asked Mr. Yagura.

‘It is not what I will do for you Caretaker; I am just a servant of Yah, and his only begotten son, Yeshua, also known as Jesus to the people in the realm connected to the tower. Jesus Yeshua is providing this gift. I am just helping with the delivery.’

‘But if Jesus Yeshua is going to give me a wife, how will he do that? My clan is gone, and so are the others. Where is the woman who may be given to me, in the ways of my people? Who will make the arrangements for our courtship according to clan ways? Who will make the joining scroll? Who will chaperone us until it is time for her to be brought to my tent? I could go into the modern world and take just any woman, but I will not. It is not proper!’

‘Do not be afraid, Yagura, highly favored of Yah! Do you remember the young Islander girl from your clan that you cared for until the Monk of Yah took her home for his wife to raise? When she was of age, a messenger was sent to talk to the monk and his wife. Time is not an obstacle to the Most High Yah! The family has agreed to come here and meet you. If they accept the joining, little Ayoka, who is no longer a little girl, but a grown woman will come. The ritual of your people has been explained to them, and since the woman is of your clan, if she acquiesces, she will be brought to the tower, and you will court her.’”

“Obviously it happened,” I said.

Princess laughed, and so did the Caretaker. “A few centuries ago. I was not even thought of then and, as of yet, cannot share that story with you.”

“It would not be plopuh.”

Princess sighed, “It would not be proper.”

“If I understand it, your people, Mr. Yagura, practiced a form of arranged marriage, but it is different than any arranged marriage I have ever heard of. It is not like the Jewish betrothal.”

“Like, but not like, Wayno-san. Yes.”

“When I was very young, Jesus came to me in a dream, and when I was older, he came to me in a vision. I didn’t understand the first time, but I did the second. Jesus promised to arrange my marriage. And He has made arrangements several times, but they have never worked out.”

Princess scowled momentarily, her brow furrowed, and I could imagine a storm brewing that would have rivaled the tale she had just shared. Her chin clenched, and her eyes blazed. Princess mumbled a sentence or two worth of hushed jargon. What was that? I wondered. Did she just say ‘I detest FTG’s? He belongs to me?! If I ask her about it, all I’ll get is a chorus of ‘Not proper!’

Mr. Yagura’s eyes flashed, and he cleared his throat loudly. The dark storm around Princess vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Following what seemed to me a rather forced chuckle, she offered, “Maybe it wasn’t the proper time.” Princess looked at her bare and shapely feet, giggled, and then giggled again.

“Maybe not plopah lady,” offered the Caretaker.

The caretaker pulled the silver bell out of his pocket and rang it three times. As if waiting for the signal, Ayoka stepped from through the swishing, tinkling bead curtain with a long thick scroll with gold painted decorative wooden handles. She handed one end to the Caretaker. Ayoka also produced two metal, wood, feather and shell necklaces. She donned one and placed the other around Mr. Yagura’s neck. Then, while they were both holding the scroll, Caretaker and Ayoka, intoned in unison, “It is time. Do you wish, Plincess, to plesent the sc’oll to Wayno-san?”

“I do,” said Princess.

“Will you accept me as I am Wayno-san,” asked the Princess and promise to love me with all of your heart?”

“I do,” I answered.

“Are you sure?” asked the Caretaker, “She is also the Lady of Dlagons!”

“Yes, all of the Friendship Tower Girls had several characteristics in common. One of those traits was, ‘She will have a dark side to her personality.’ Of course, with some, that trait was much stronger than with the others. I promise I will love the Princess and Lady of Dragons. I promise to love them both.” Princess frowned, but almost instantly she was smiling again.

When Princess took the scroll, Mr. Yagura walked over to the horse hide Ottoman and slid it over to the left side of my chair. Princess came and sat down in the chair. I looked into her eyes. I still could not see what color they were. Maybe brown. Maybe hazel. I could not tell. She wiggled her toes, and I looked at them. I was going to reach out and hold her hand, but Mr. Yagura and Ayoka did that agitated hand dance again.

“Not plopah!” they chorused in unison.

Then Ayoka dropped her hands to her sides and squealed, “Wait see, Wayno-san! My Plincess glayt altist!”

Even though I had figured out Ayoka’s comment momentarily, Princess had seen my confused look. She replied, “Ayoka says that I am a ‘great artist.’ Usually, you have to pay a great deal of money to have the joining scroll made. The left side has artwork, and the right side has the joining promise written in Mr. Yagura’s artistic symbol language which resembles Japanese. What’s worse is that if you can’t do the artwork yourself, it can be…” Princess paused and then, eyes rolling, tilting her head toward the tent top, adding a lilting inflection to her tone, dramatically finished the last word of her sentence, slowing down the enunciation of the final word, “awkward!”

Princess paused before continuing, “Actually, you would need a scroll of inheritance or value. Proof that you have goods or gold enough to provide for us. Ayoka was quite agitated, but Jesus Yeshua gave her peace.” She grinned, “Then we found out that Yeshua Jesus was going to be your joining sponsor. You should have been there! Mr. Yagura didn’t blink, but Ayoka voiced her opinion! Both the bride and the potential husband must, according to custom, also have a respected male and female sponsor that represents them for arranging the joining. And you, Wayno-san, were supposed to provide the money for the joining scroll, but I prepared the left side after Mr. Yagura had prepared the right side. We had some blank scrolls, too, just in case. Fortunately, I practiced my part, and so Mr. Yagura only needed to write out the scroll for me once.”

Mr. Yagura and Ayoka, standing behind the scroll and in front of us, were getting anxious. Princess opened the scroll. I was stunned. The right side had the pictographic characters that I had expected. I had not expected the exquisite and detailed ink drawing of the Princess.

I gasped and exclaimed, “You are so beautiful. You take my breath away!”

Instantly, Mr. Yagura and Ayoka started the anxious hand dance routine and exclaimed loudly, “Not plopah! Not plopah!” Mr. Yagura cleared his throat and said, “No say bed-tent things! No touch hands!”

Princess pulled a pen out of the scroll and signed her name and used the date system that I use. I signed my name and the same date. I looked at her and asked, “Aren’t we married?”

Princess spun around on her ottoman, stretched and pulled a long brown leather tube from a shelf of the surround bookcase, before answering my question. Spinning back around, she smiled warmly at me, as she unscrewed a cap from the tube. Then Princess continued, “Joined. We are now joined, Wayno-san. And it is signed and dated before witnesses. But we are not married.” Princess gently placed the long decorative scroll into the leather case, twisted the cap back on, cradled it gently, then tucked it under one arm.

“But we are joined, Princess?” I asked

She smiled at me and rubbed her foot against my ankle.

I expected to hear a chorus of “Not plopah.” Nothing happened.

I whispered, “Thank you, Princess.” And then I wept.

Princess placed her cheek against mine and licked my tears.

I expected Mr. Yagura and Ayoka to flail their hands and start their chorus of “Not plopah!” Once again, their silence confounded me.

“In my culture,” I said, “we would exchange engagement rings, Princess.”

“No nose ling. My Plincess not slave, handmaiden for you, but not slave, Wayno-san!”

Princess held her hands out palms up to Ayoka. “No Ayoka, Wayno-san, means finger rings. You wear rings in Wayno-san’s culture, on your second to last left finger.” Princess showed Ayoka and then explained it in the language of the horse clans which Ayoka had been taught, along with that of the monk’s family language.

Then a light of understanding lit Princesses’ face, “Wayno-san, that was the finger that was missing on your left hand this morning! Interesting. Very bad. Very strange.

Ayoka turned up her nose, huffed, and exclaimed, “Solly, I fo’get that custom. No matter! No, I say! Ling on fingah also stlange. Velly stlange. Maybe not bad, but velly stlange!”

“What do we do now, Princess?”

“We wait.”

“We wait for what?
“To be married.”

“When does that happen? And what is that ritual?” I replied. I was suddenly filled with sorrow as past surging emotions of waiting for multiple Friendship Tower girls that came to naught, overwhelmed me.

Princess shook her head, sadness replacing her former joyful expression, “Those are not proper questions for you to ask, Wayno-san. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Maybe in three months. Maybe next year or a little more. Not more than two years.”

Princess paused, her chin quivered, then grew firm, “When it is time, I will be brought to you. I am not allowed to say the words I want to tell you Wayno-san. It would be improper for us until we are married.”

She arose from the Princess Ottoman, then curtsied, before continuing, “Good bye, Wayno-san. May Yah protect and provision you and guard your heart. May Jesus Yeshuah give you rest and peace as you wait during this present delay on the wayside along your journey. May Yeshua Jesus teach you many…kingdom lessons.”

She rose quickly before I had time to bow.

Waysides along the journey? Kingdom Lessons? Has she read my books, I wondered?

Princess grabbed her socks and moccasins in one hand. She braced her scroll case under her other arm. Head hanging forward, jaw firm, my Princess, strode briskly from the room. Ayoka exited quietly with her. I heard the swish and tinkle of the rope beads. Lyrics to a pop song Weekend in New England, by Barry Manilow, flooded my mind, “When can I touch you/when will this strong yearning end/when will I see you again…”

“It is time, Wayno-san,” said the Caretaker. He added, “Time for you to leave the tower and go back to your dwelling.”

Mr. Yagura escorted me down the long rusty red-brown steps of the two-tiered stairway. I followed him along the cobble stone path through the green grassy vale to the portal. There was a slight flash, and I was walking alone to my house. I thought that it would be nice to see Ken and Sharon and Brent and Casey, their children, and my friend Mark. Then the thought hit me, Time passes differently in the tower. What if they wait several months there and years pass here?

When I opened the door into my house, I noticed that it was slightly different than my real house. As I entered my front door, I noticed that a finely crafted table now sat in the area between the fellowship room and the kitchen. Dark golden brown, the straight grain pattern of the table gleamed. Scents of fine leather with a hint of jasmine now filled the room. Two delicate intertwining red roses had been carved on each corner and then painted red and green.

And my Hoss chair from the tower was behind the table! I shook my head and thought, the angels must have brought it. Just then, to my surprise, I heard the three rings of Mr. Yagura’s bell. And then Ayoka came with tea and muffins. I hoped that my Princess would appear walking from my office or the laundry or the bathroom. But it was just Mr. Yagura and Ayoka.

I began to cry again. Mr. Yagura patted my shoulder and said gently, “When it is time, Wayno-san.” Ayoka took tea cups from my cupboard, set them out for us, and then poured the steaming tea. It had the aroma of chamomile. Mr. Yagura said, “Jesus Yeshua bless you leal good, Wayno-san.” He paused, sipped his tea, eyed the muffin, but ignored it. We have one more sc’oll to sign. He took a little one, tan and smaller than a mouse pad when unscrolled. I watched him sign it. Then I watched Ayoka sign it. Caretaker held it open before me, and I signed it. I didn’t even look at what I had signed. I just tasted the bitter, salty taste of the tear that snaked from my eye, down over my upper lip, and onto my tongue.

Mr. Yagura asked, “Do you know Ploverbs 10:26? How about Matthew 10:6-9?”

I sipped some tea and bit into the muffin. I could taste berries both tart and sweet. I replied, “I am not good with street addresses, Mr. Yagura, but I can guess what they say. I’ll look them up later, just to be sure.”

“When I come again, Wayno-san. I will read them. Plincess will be with me.”

Ayoka gently touched her husband’s arm, “We go now.”

I could see that she was fighting hard not to lose her composure. The Caretaker was not crying, but he was gloomy. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of compact disks. The top one had a picture of the green jeweled book that he had shown me, the first morning of our visit. There were also little pieces of torn scroll paper that had Bible verses written on them in messy but legible English.

Caretaker said, “It is time.”

Mr. Yagura, the teapot, the rest of the muffins and the scroll vanished. To my surprise, the kitchen chair that usually sat against one wall of the fellowship room, near the closet, spun out of the way. For the merest of sweet and agonizing seconds, I heard the soft swishing tinkle of rope beads and tiny bells. The paint pony covered ottoman – the Princess Ottoman – appeared with a muffled thunk where the kitchen chair had been previously. I then remembered other Tower dreams and sitting on the benches crying. Crying and waiting.

I woke up.

I had the strong impression that I should not be discouraged and that even though it looked like I was not in the top of the tower, that spiritually I was. I had to wait though, as physical reality would only catch up to spiritual reality in the fullness of time. I also received the impression again, that even though I had heard a specific name, once during the dream, that the true and final Friendship Tower Girl would only be revealed when it was the right one and the right time. And finally, that the real proof would be, as recorded from a prophecy from decades ago, “when it is time it will be obvious that Jesus is orchestrating everything. It will happen like clockwork. No more one step forward and three steps back. It will look to everyone as if you are doing nothing.”

It is not only necessary for me to understand how Jesus feels on certain issues. I must also feel that understanding. I am required to empathize with His heart concerning the matter. Then, with my limited words, convey to the reader a poignant understanding that transcends the limitations of mere mental learning, just how Jesus feels about His Bride. What makes the issue even more challenging, is that even though we have God’s Word, to guide us, our mental preconditioning and cultural biases often get in the way of truly understanding true service and intimacy with Jesus.

This dream is a fictional narrative, with a scattering of true Bible verses, old prophecies, and real incidents from my life, including former dreams, weaved into the story. While Mr. Yagura is totally a construct, for example, the Princess, while not real, is symbolic of real-life Friendship Tower Girls. That said, the concept that Jesus died on the cross, was resurrected and is coming for His Bride, is not fiction.

Jesus has been joined to His Bride, but until the Father says, “It is time,” Jesus must wait. He already endured the brutal pain, the taint of sin, and unimaginable emptiness of being temporarily unclean in front of the Father, that our combined taints brought with it. Now Jesus must endure both feelings of longing and anticipation. He must endure them until the Marriage Supper of the Lamb is not just a spiritual promise, but has become a physical reality.

Written by Wayne O’Conner for inclusion in my series The Friendship Tower Chronicles.

Below are the links to the YouTube videos and wayneoconner.com blog posts for all of the individual Friendship Tower Chronicles presentations.

1 The Friendship Tower from Jesus

The video which is at the blog was originally published on YouTube November 14^th, 2012.

YouTube link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Hyr6st8c68

Below in the box is a copy of the video information from YouTube Video Publishing that was with the video when I just searched to find the original video. I couldn’t remember the actual date information which didn’t appear on the video that I have at my blog. The video was published in November of 2012, but I put the link for the video in my July 11^th,2015 blog entry.

A FRIENDSHIP TOWER FROM JESUS + 2 ROMANTIC POEMS …

Video for A FRIENDSHIP TOWER FROM JESUS + 2 ROMANTIC POEMS▶ 29:53