XL

TO EVERY THING THERE IS A SEASON, AND A TIME TO EVERY PURPOSE UNDER HEAVEN

ECCLESIASTES 3:1

SEVENIA SALLIE

“Are you okay with me meeting Salena today?” I asked my dad at the breakfast table.

He stopped a spoonful of Grape Nuts halfway to his mouth. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you were sort of seeing her, but now she’s pregnant by your brother.”

“Salena and I are nothing more than friends. I told you that as soon as we were reunited a couple years ago.”

“I know,” I shrugged. “But you said that about Zella LaStella, and I saw you two on a walk holding hands. It was easy to tell because your interlaced fingers were, you know, ebony and ivory.”

My dad sighed and dropped his spoon into his bowl of cereal. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure,” I replied nonchalantly as I casually shrugged a shoulder. But my foot bobbed vigorously under the table with anticipation.

“She and I have gradually become more than just friends.”

“Daddy, that’s wonderful!”

“Slow down, Sweet Pea,” he chuckled. “I just don’t want you to be in the dark. Zella and I are taking things slow.”

“I understand,” I replied. “But doesn’t it bother you that Uncle Six has been seeing Salena all the while you were? I have to tell you, Daddy, I’m nervous about seeing Salena. And it’s mostly because I don’t know what is going on with you and her, Uncle Six and her, and this open marriage thing with Uncle Six and Aunt Charley. God rest her soul.”

“Relax, Sweet Pea,” my dad said as he held up a hand. “I understand you’re disappointed with Salena, my brother, and Aunt Charley. I don’t fully understand what’s going on myself. But Salena and I were never going to be a romantic item again. So, Six not only told me he was getting together with Salena, he asked my permission to seduce her. I told him to go for it, but I also told him he didn’t stand a chance. Seems I was wrong. Go figure.”

“I don’t get why Salena would be getting together with a married man,” I said. “She was like a second mother to me. She always seemed as pure as the wind driven snow.”

“They were getting together for Bible studies,” my dad replied.

“And she ended up pregnant! How?”

“You’re the one getting together with her, so you tell me.”

I felt butterflies in my stomach when Salena and I met at a Subway sandwich shop. As soon as I saw her warm brown loving eyes link with mine and her sweet smile, I relaxed. I grinned at her as we opened our arms for a hug. Then I stopped and frowned as I looked at a noticeable baby bump at her mid-section. She stopped too, and a hurt look transformed onto her countenance.

“Sorry,” I said, as I made myself laugh and look as cheerful as possible. Then we embraced for a tight hug. “I didn’t realize you were showing yet.”

“I’m actually due at the end of October,” she said.

“Wow,” I replied. “I didn’t realize you and my uncle had been seeing each other so long. I mean my aunt just died.”

“Sevenia,” Salena gasped. “I know you’re confused and disappointed. Please give me a chance to explain.”

“Okay,” I replied meekly, and smiled.

She smiled back and we hugged again. Then we bought some lunch to go and went to a park. We managed small talk for a while as we ate. Then we reminisced about Anna, and that put us in enough of a familiar comfort zone to talk about the elephant in the park. The recreational area was filled with big beautiful oak trees. It was also sunny with a high of 75. This picturesque setting helped with the ugly situation that was now broached.

“So,” Salena finally said after we had a long, awkward moment of silence. “I know you’re wondering how, I, a conservative Christian and an unmarried woman, became pregnant by a married man?”

“The thought crossed my mind,” I replied lightheartedly. Then we both fake giggled.

“You remember when your dad and I became reacquainted when your mother was in hospice?”

“I do.”

“Well, at the funeral for your mother, Six and I became reacquainted.”

“I see.”

“We had gotten to know each other when I was seeing your father.”

“I see.”

“They were so different for being twins,” she said. “Which made sense since they didn’t look alike. I was so blown away when I met Brock for the first time. I couldn’t believe Seven’s cousin looked more like him than his own twin brother.”

This peeked my interest. “You knew Uncle Brock way back?”

She frowned. “Uncle Brock? I always thought he and Seven were cousins.”

“They are,” I giggled. “But I’ve gotten to know Brock and his wife Destiny so well that they feel like my aunt and uncle.”

“So tell me about Brock,” we both said at the same time and then laughed.

It was almost like being with Anna. Her daughter was a mini me of herself. Soft, wavy, dark brown hair. Big, lovely, almond-shaped, brown eyes. Only I wasn’t used to seeing Salena so vulnerable. She was always so serious and stoic. Yet majestic and beautiful. Now, although still lovely, I detected scared and uncertainty in her demeanor. I felt horrible for being standoffish with her for several weeks. We had another awkward pause as we waited for the other to talk about Brock Storm, my father’s cousin.

“You go first, you knew him first,” I said with a sing song voice.

“I don’t have much to tell,” She replied. “I only met Brock once in person, but he was kind of a local legend.”

“I’ve heard that. So what’s your perspective on the legend of Brock?”

“He was just a bad man,” she drawled lightheartedly, and we laughed. “Seriously though. I’d heard about all these fights he had been in. Several of which were actually instigated by Seven, I mean your father. I understand that’s also why they ended up having a falling out. And I met your dad after the fall out.”

“So did you actually talk to Brock?”

“Briefly,” she replied with a little laugh. “He actually told me to beware of Seven. That I seemed like to good of a girl to get mixed up with him. He said he was a loudmouth and pretentious.”

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah. Then he said Seven was already self-righteous and now he’s religious on top of that. Then I lightheartedly said so you don’t believe in Jesus?”

Salena paused and giggled.

“What?”

“Oh,” she replied. “It’s just interesting that Brock’s a believer now. Because his reply was, I don’t need a crutch. I would so like to see him now. I would ask and remind him about that statement. Yet he didn’t say it in an arrogant manner. The thing that I found intriguing about Brock was he was so big and powerful, and he had this reputation as nobody to mess with. Yet the one time I talked with him, his eyes were so warm and gentle.”

“That’s the Brock I know and love,” I said. “A big muscular teddy bear.”

“I don’t know that I would have called him a teddy bear back then,” Salena laughed.

I told her about my first day as a freshman in high school. How Brock, wearing a form fitting t- shirt, drove me and purposely made us a couple of minutes late. I explained how he escorted me to my homeroom and politely, but loudly told the teacher he would be terribly upset if my first day went badly. Then how he quickly and menacingly eyed the classroom.

Salena laughed. “Six and Seven both have told me plenty of Brock stories, and how he toyed with bullies.”

At the mention of my Uncle Six, we both became silent. I forced a smile, but had too look away from her confused gaze. “Sevenia?”

“I’m sorry, Salena,” I blurted as a couple tears popped out of my eyes.

“For what?” She questioned breathlessly as she took hold of my hands. “I’m the one that let you down.”

“No, you didn’t let me down,” I choked. “I’m just confused.”

She nodded. “So how did the righteous seeming mother of Anna become pregnant by a married man?”

I shrugged and fake laughed. “Something like that.”

“I was so devastated when Anna died,” Salena squeaked as her tears began to flow. “I always thought I was so grounded in the Lord. I didn’t realize grief could make you physically ill, and linger and linger. And I had other children to care for.”

She bowed her head and sobbed.

“Salena,” I said. “I’m sorry, I…I…”

“No, it’s okay, Honey,” she relied, smiling through her tears.

“No it’s not, I’m selfish and sorry, I…I…”

“No,” she said and sighed as she put up a hand in a stop gesture. “So I became reacquainted with Six. He wanted Bible studies, and I agreed to get together with him every Wednesday.”

“Wow, you had Bible studies with Six?” I replied. “He’s the ultimate skeptic.”

“I know, and he wanted me to keep it a secret. So we studied, but we also talked and got to know each other. He told me about his marriage arrangement with his wife. But even though he flirted, I never responded, or at least never meant to.”

Salena sighed, clutched her head and sighed.

“It’s okay, I get it,” I said.

“No you don’t,” she replied with a pained expression. “Before Anna died, I never had an alcoholic drink in my life. But after she passed, and my grief ate at me and ate at me. I ended up trying  some wine and became hooked with the temporary relief I felt. Over time, one glass led to two, two led to three. Then one day, the boys were off camping. I had a full bottle and then some. Six showed up. One thing led to another, and now this.”

She waved a hand over her protruding belly and I fake laughed again.

“I see,” I replied. “So where do you go from here?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I told Six as soon as I found out, and he was excited.”

“But he’s married!” I blurted, and then instantly calmed. “I mean was.”

“I know,” she replied with a pained expression. “I also know you know about their open marriage arrangement. What you might not know is that Charley was never able to have kids.”

“This is so weird,” I said as mildly as I could.

“I know, Honey, I’m sorry,” she replied as her phone rang. “Hello? Oh hey. Six, that’s great! Okay, okay, I see. Wow, really? Okay, okay. I’m actually with your niece. Huh? Sevenia. He wants to talk to you.”

“Huh?” I asked dumbly.

“They discovered who killed your Aunt Charley,” Salena said as she handed me her phone. “Six is no longer a suspect.”

“Hi, Uncle Six,” I replied dumbly. “What’s new?”

XXXIX

IN THE WORLD YOU SHALL HAVE TRIBULATION: BUT BE OF GOOD CHEER, I HAVE OVERCOME THE WORLD.

(JOHN 16:33)

DESTINY KNIGHT-STORM

“Hi Dee,” Sevenia greeted cheerily as she entered my kitchen wearing a bright yellow summer dress and red converse sneakers. My heart soared with hope. For the last few weeks, she just hadn’t been the same. This was understandable because 22 days previously she was nearly raped by a male friend of hers. Said assailant ended his life an hour after the attack. Then three days later, her aunt was murdered.

“Hi Sweetie,” I sang right before I hugged her. She plopped into a chair at the kitchen table, pulled a Granny Smith apple out of a fruit bowl, took a big chomp out of it and chewed happily. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How about you?”

“Just peachy,” I replied as I studied her eyes to see if the twinkle I thought I detected was genuine. It appeared that the familiar, optimistic light was back after day upon day with her lovely emerald windows to the soul shaded with gloom. “So what’s up?”

“I’ve made a decision,” she said boldly, and then frowned. “Actually a couple. Maybe a few. ”

“I see,” I said, even though it occurred to me that I didn’t. “Tell me about them.”

“Have you ever purposely yawned to make somebody else yawn?” she asked with a straight face.

“No,” I replied slowly and cautiously, then I realized she wasn’t joking. Yet I laughed. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s something I’ve always liked to do,” she giggled. “Even if you pretend to yawn, three out of four times the person you are with will yawn right after you.”

I frowned as I contemplated. Then I realized that most of the time that I see someone yawn, I yawn as well. “Okay Sweetie, what’s your point?”

“It’s a deception.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I suppose it is.”

“That’s lying.”

“Huh?”

“Pretending to yawn when I’m not really yawning,” she said earnestly. “That’s lying. And I’ve done this trick hundreds of times, to dozens of people.”

“Sweetie, I hardly think that’s bearing false witness in the strictest sense. You were joking, not deceiving.”

“Ah, I beg to differ. I was deceiving, albeit joking, for my own pleasure.”

“Talk about innocent pleasure,” I laughed.

“You think?” she asked so seriously I frowned, yet smirked.

“I think.”  

“Well, it got me thinking that maybe minor infractions aren’t so different than serious ones. Regardless of whether Captain Kirk’s speculations are right or not, we live in a sin polluted world, no question. Thankfully, Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of which I’m chief.”

“If you Sweetie,” I interrupted. “Are gonna claim to be chiefest of sinners like the Apostle Paul, I’m the devil himself.”

“You’re more than kind,” she giggled. “If you’re the devil than I’m… Never mind, this is stupid. The point I’m trying to make is we’re all flawed. We’ve all sinned and come short of the gory of God. The point I was trying to make is selfishness. Which is sin. Can be incredibly simple, yet deep, and subtle.”

“I agree,” I agreed.

 “I realized I can be incredibly judgmental, when I’ve always flattered myself that I’m not,” she said. Then she got up, went to the fridge, grabbed a grape flavored sparkling water, kicked off her shoes, sat back down and crossed her legs. “Dee, I need to apologize.”

“For what?”

“I was just at the pastor’s house,” she replied. “He told me you were worried about me. I’m sorry, Dee. The Captain pointed out how quiet and aloof I’ve been lately. It was so self-absorbed of me to not realize my depressed state of mind the last couple of weeks was not noticeable.”

“You’re such a beckon of light to so many, Sweetie,” I told her. “It’s pretty obvious when that precious light isn’t shinning.”

She looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. The girl was so selfless, it truly didn’t occur to her that people noticed she was hurting. “Thank you Dee, that was kind of you to say.”

I sat down next to the girl that was like a daughter to me. I squeezed one of her bare feet and said, “You need not apologize, but I do.”

“What for?” She asked with arched eyebrows.

“I prayed and prayed for you,” I told her. “Yet I never knew how to encourage you.”

“Your love and friendship is all I ever need to encourage me.”

“Thank you, Sweetie.”

“I knew the Lord was with me,” she said. “I was just experiencing Psalm 23 for real. It took some time and a lot of prayer to get my head around everything. But I clung to verse 6 as if it were a life preserver.”

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever (Psalm 23:6),” I quoted. “I end up reading Psalm 23 every time I’m discouraged.”

“I guess that’s the reason it’s the most famous Psalm,” Sevenia said. “It always reminds me that the kingdom of God is within us.” (Luke 17:21).

“Yes,” I replied, and then we grinned at each other. “So tell me about your decisions.”

“Well, my dad has been wanting me to do a series with Lexi on his podcast about the occult. After reading Captain Kirk’s book about the war in heaven, I decided to do it.”

“What was it about the pastor’s book that changed your mind?”

“I guess between reading his book and what happened a few weeks ago, it really brought home Ephesians 6:12. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”

“And nobody at Cotton Creek knows more about that verse than Lexi,” I added.

“Right, I’m gonna go see her after I leave here.”

“Well, you’re really making the rounds today.”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I guess after playing a hermit for the last dozen days, I’m longing to see some peeps.”

“So, do your other decisions have to do with your dad’s podcast?”

“No, the other two aren’t related.”

“Alright, tell me about the other two.”

“Well, one of the reasons I’ve been playing the hermit, is the thing with my Uncle Six initially being a suspect in Aunt Charley’s murder. But I’m ashamed to say, even more than that, my Uncle Six and his relationship with Salena, my forever bestie’s mother. It was their family, and their holy living, that made me become a diligent seeker of truth myself. Then I find out she had an affair with my Uncle!”

“Sweetie, you don’t know that,” I said.

“But I do, Dee,” Sevenia said sadly. “I talked to Salena on the phone right after everything went down. She admitted it. I sinned in my quick judgement of her, and I told her I never wanted to see or speak to her again. She started crying, Dee, and was saying let me explain, please let me explain.”

Suddenly Sevenia burst out in sobs.

“It’s okay, Sweetie,” I gently soothed. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” she croaked, as she quickly composed herself and continued. “I was so disappointed with her I hung up on her. I so missed Anna and her sweet, uplifting presence, I ignored her mother’s calls and texts in the days following until yesterday. I agreed to meet with her tomorrow in Clear Lake and discuss what happened between her and Uncle Six.”

“I see, is Branch taking you?” I asked.

“He wanted to, but my relationship with him is my third decision.”

“Okay,” I replied cautiously. “Say on.”

“I think I need to end things with him.”

“Why?” I blurted, causing her to look a little startled. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” she replied meekly. “It’s just, with everything that’s happened with my uncle and Salena, and what not. I mean how can you ever trust anyone? I decided I want to just serve the Lord and not yoke myself with another human being. The Apostle Paul even recommends flying solo.”

“But Sweetie, Branch is a good man,” I whined. “And good, Godly men are hard to come by.”

She nodded slowly, and then bowed her head and fidgeted uneasily with her fingers. The couple were supposed to be baptized together, but then Sevenia’s aunt died and the ceremony went into limbo. My heart ached for Branch. I thought of him as a combination between my own husband and Billy Bob Booker.

“One more thing,” Sevenia told me as my brain whirled. “About Salena I mean. This is what pushed me over the edge and to behave so irrational with her.”

“Okay.”

“Salena’s pregnant with Six’s child.”

My mouth did the proverbially drop to the floor.

XXXVIII

FOR WHAT IS YOUR LIFE? IT IS EVEN A VAPOUR, THAT APPEARS FOR A LITTLE TIME, AND THEN VANISHES AWAY.

(JAMES 4:14)

SEVENIA SALLIE

Why did death seem to come in pairs with me? Two years ago, my best friend Anna became my first experience with the death of someone I loved. Then six weeks later, my mother died. Fast forward two years and my one time close friend Jeremy became deceased by his own hand. Three days later, my Aunt Charley was killed in a car accident.

This may sound strange to the unconverted, but the latest pair left me more troubled than the first pair, even though I was much closer to the first. I was confident of my mother and my best friend’s salvation. With Aunt Charley, I was uncertain. With Jeremy, I was even more unsure. Despite the despicable way he ended our friendship, I ached for his lost soul.

These latest two deaths both affected me completely different. Due to Jeremy’s ugly behavior and subsequent attack on me, I tried to not think about him and simply move forward. Only it wasn’t so simple, and my thoughts kept returning. One breath at a time, moment by moment, step by step. Bringing every thought to the obedience of Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5). Remembering that for me, yard by yard, life is hard. But inch by inch, life’s a cinch, as long as I’m walking in and with the Holy Spirit.

My Aunt Charley was a different story. Ironically, I saw her more during the last two years after I moved from the Twin Cities to Iowa to live with my dad. This was because my dad and I would go stay the weekend with Aunt Charley and Uncle Six every other month. She and I would have girl talk, and I always tried to turn the conversation to the greatest love of my life, Jesus. But although she listened with interest, her attitude reminded me of Felix and the Apostle Paul. When I have a convenient season I will call for thee (Acts 24:25).

Aunt Charley’s memorial service was to be held at a later date. But my dad, along with Destiny, Brock, and myself, were going to go to Minnesota to be with Uncle Six. However, just as Jeremy died under ugly circumstances, it turned out so did Aunt Charley. Albeit vastly different.

“Sweet Pea,” my dad said cautiously as he entered my bedroom.

“Yes,” I said as I quickly shoved the bra I was holding into my overnight bag.

“There’s been a change of plans.”

“Okay,” I replied hesitantly, as I noticed a different look of anguish on my father’s face from the grief that had been there since the night before.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” he told me as he took hold of both of my shoulders, as if what he had to tell me might make me collapse. I felt a chill race up and down my spine. “It turns out that your Aunt Charley didn’t die from the car accident. Investigators discovered she was actually bludgeoned to death after she was run off the road.”

“Oh my!”

“Yeah,” my dad said with a sigh as he slowly released his hands from my shoulders. “And it appears that Six is the primary suspect.”

Why did he let go of me? I felt my legs go weak. But I didn’t crumple to the floor. I sat down on my bed and stared dumbfounded at my father.

“So,” he said and sighed heavily. “Brock and I are gonna go north and Destiny is gonna come stay with you. Are you okay with that?”

“Sure,” I said quietly.

“She’ll fill you in on the rest.”

“The rest?”

My dad’s eyes looked startled. “Yeah, there’s more to it, but I think it would be better coming from Destiny. You know, woman to woman.”

“Wow!” I replied. “It must be pretty heavy if you’re referring to me as a woman.”

His eyes got even wider. “Yeah, Sweet Pea, there’s a, um, a love triangle involved. Maybe even a quad angle or something, I don’t know.”

“Huh?”

My dad shook his head vigorously and waved both hands. “Like I said, it’ll be better hearing it from Dee, rather than me. She and Brock will be here any minute.”

When I looked at Destiny’s lovely, compassionate face, it was like a drink of cool water on a hot day. My Aunt Dee was easily in my top ten favorite people I have ever known. But let me be clear. She’s not technically my aunt. She’s married to my dad’s cousin Brock, and Brock feels more like an Uncle than, well, my dad’s cousin.

“My dad said you have something, um, difficult to tell me,” I told her, not beating around the bush.

“Yeah,” she drawled cautiously and scrunched her little nose. “Do you want go sit at the kitchen table?”

“Actually, could we go talk at Cotton Creek?”

“Sure, if you’re okay going there,” she said with an arched eyebrow.

“I’m not gonna let what happened there steal one of my favorite places. Plus Branch helped me get over feeling skittish there.”

“Well that sounds great then,” Destiny said. “It’s June and I still haven’t stuck my feet in the creek yet this year.”

Despite the chaos going on in the world and my life, Destiny and I giggled like little girls as we kicked the cool creek water in the very spot Branch and I would soon be baptized. But after a minute or two, I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “So, what did you have to talk to me about Dee?”

“Oh, yeah, we didn’t just come here for fun, did we?” She said as her wide blue eyes became serious. She tucked her long honey blonde hair behind her ears, frowned, and became still.

“Was my Aunt and Uncle having affairs on each other?”

“It looks that way, Sweetie,” she replied, and then winced. “Only, it’s a little more, shall we say, um… Do you know what an open marriage is?”

I felt my toes curl beneath the surface of the water. I was so incredibly grateful that Destiny was talking about this with me rather than my dad. I tried to make an awkward moment lighthearted. “Sure, I mean you and Brock are openly married. You’re not trying to hide it.”

Her wince deepened and she began to chew on her lower lip. Even with a contorted face, Destiny was still unfairly pretty. I laughed, and Destiny released her pinched face and arched an eyebrow.

“Are you trying to tell me that my Aunt and Uncle had an agreement to see other people?” I asked.

“Something like that,” she replied, and winced again. “Weird, huh?”

I shrugged.

“You don’t seem all that surprised.”

“I am,” I replied and shrugged again. “But I’m not. I mean, they run a gothic funeral home. Charley tends to dress like Elvira, even when she’s not working. Or I guess I should say used to.”

My tears came on suddenly and I coughed a sob. I felt Destiny’s arm go around me, and her head leaned against mine as I began to wail.

“She was actually my first influence on how I dress,” I told Destiny when I calmed. “I was probably six or seven. No pun intended with my dad and uncle’s names. We were at a funeral for somebody I think my mom was related to. I remember Aunt Charley pushing me out back on a tire swing. She was so laid back and hippie cool. She was wearing this form fitting, long charcoal dress with black lace on the sleeves and neckline. Her shapely leg kept popping out of this long split on the side. I was fascinated with the way the sun glistened off her black nylons. And she was wearing these red converse sneakers that clashed in a super fun way with how she was otherwise elegantly dressed.

“Then she told me it was time for her to go to work. We walked hand in hand to a basement door. She sat down on a chair, slipped off the sneakers, and slipped on black stiletto heels. As she did so, she said it was time to put Charley away and become Charlotte, Mistress of Death. In an instant she went from sexy fun to complete gloom classy.

“She sat me at a table so I could work on a puzzle. But as soon as she left, I tried on about a half dozen pairs of her heels. I couldn’t hardly walk, so I put on her sneakers. They were too big, but I tied them tight and walked well enough. I went back out to the tire swing and pushed an imaginary child. I sashayed around and spoke to the invisible person with deep, sultry words like my aunt.”

I started crying again, and Destiny soothed, “It’s okay, Sweetie.”

“It’s just so strange, Dee,” I croaked.

“Do you mean the open marriage thing?”

“Well, yeah, but I was talking about Charley being gone. It just doesn’t seem real. In some ways it seems like yesterday that she was pushing me on that swing. So free and graceful as strands of her dark hair drifted onto her face. Her bright blue eyes twinkling as she daintily brushed the hair off of her cheek. She just always seemed full of life in that low key, sultry way of hers.”

“I didn’t know her well,” Destiny said. “But I can see what you mean. She had a way of putting people at ease. Very comforting presence, despite her gothic attire.”

“Yet I don’t know that she loved the Lord, Dee,” I said, looking at her as my eyes clouded with yet more tears. “And that’s what hurts the most about her death.”

“The thing about the lost, Sevenia,” Destiny said softly and gently. “And I’m not saying Charley was. It’s not our place to judge. But the lost will be excluded by their own choice. God has done everything He possibly could to save lost humanity. Even giving his only begotten Son (John 3:16). Those that end up excluded from heaven, will be so because they would not be happy there. I know it sounds strange, but heaven is much more than simply a place of eternal bliss. The inhabitants there love God supremely. And if we don’t love Him here, we won’t love Him there.”

“Right,” I agreed. “Jesus said if you love me, keep my commandments (John 14:15)

“And that they are not grievous,” (1 John 5:3) she said as she put her arm around my shoulder again. I leaned into her and wrapped my arm around her backside. We became silent and I felt the open marriage thing looming between this mother, daughter type moment, and I wanted to get it over with.

“So, Dee, what is going with…” I began, but I couldn’t say open marriage. “My Aunt and Uncle’s relationship.”

“Well,” she sighed as I felt her arm leave my back side. She sat up straight and drew circles in the water with her toes. “I don’t know much. But apparently, when Six asked Charlotte to marry him, she said she would love to, but couldn’t, because she didn’t believe in monogamy. Six told her that he didn’t mind if she went elsewhere for lunch, as long as she always came home for supper.”

“Gross,” I interrupted. “How long have you known this?”

“Since last night.”

“What about my dad?”

“He just found out too. I think that’s why he felt uncomfortable talking to his daughter about it. He still hasn’t gotten his own head around it himself.”

“So what exactly does this perverse marriage arrangement have to do with my Aunt Charley being murdered?”

“In the last year, she met some guy, and the lunches turned into suppers. He’s quite wealthy, and she wanted to divorce Six so she could marry him.”

“So they think Six killed her?” I asked as I stood and began to pace. “Uncle Six would never kill anybody, no way!”

“We don’t think so either, Sweetie, but right now the evidence doesn’t look good for him. He does have a pretty strong alibi though.”

“What?”

“Remember, it was an open marriage. It turns out that Six has been seeing someone even longer than Charley had been seeing Mr. Moneybags. He claims he was with her when Charley was killed and she vouched for him.”

“That’s good, right? I mean in a twisted sort of way.”

“One more thing, Sweetie.”

“Okay,” I groaned as I put my face in my hands.

“The woman he has been seeing, is your best friend’s mom.”

I slowly, unbelievably lifted my head and looked Destiny in the eyes. “Do you mean Salena?”

Destiny nodded.

XXXVII

AND THERE WAS A WAR IN HEAVEN

(REVELATION 12:7)

SEVENIA SALLIE

“Pastor!” I heard myself bellow as Captain Kirk went to his knees and began to fall over. Quick as a lightning flash, Branch wrapped the Captain in a bear hug, keeping him upright. Adrenaline surged threw me, followed by dread. I had dreamt the previous night of the death of a loved one. I assumed it was prompted by the death of Jeremy. Yet the vague vison of a funeral was for a woman, or so I thought.

“Captain Crunchy!” I squealed again as I fell on my knees in front of him. I put my hands on his cheeks and looked into his pale blue eyes. I had never known such a person that seemed like they stepped right out of the Bible. When I was first getting to know him, I simply thought it was his long white beard reminding me of Moses. Pastor was faithful, bold, wise, and understanding, yet so kind and gentle. He hiccupped a sob and then chuckled a deep rumble that warmed my soul.

“Sorry about that, dear one,” he said sheepishly. “I beheld a painful memory that I had locked away in the old noodle for quite some time.”

“No, we’re sorry, Pastor,” I told him. “We just wanted to know the background, the inspiration for you writing your book. We didn’t mean to dredge up painful memories of your war experience.”

“You can let me go, young man,” Captain Kirk told Branch. He slowly, cautiously unwrapped his arms from the pastor, as if he might fall again. Captain rose to his feet and looked at Branch. “Thank you, my boy. You probably saved me from a knot on the old noggin. Or even worse.”

“No problem, sir,” Branch replied.

“Well,” the Pastor sighed. “About my book. My theories began with my war experience. I began to compare the earthly war I had lived and knew too well with the spiritual war in heaven that I couldn’t comprehend. But as I contemplated this war we are told about in Revelation chapter 12, I became keenly interested in this rebellion against God by a third of the angels and their leader. (Revelation 9:1, Jude 1:6, Luke 10:18, 2 Peter 2:4, Isaiah chapter 14 and Ezekiel chapter 28).”

“This led me to deeply ponder the why’s of our existence. Like why is a human born with a sinful nature? For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23).”

“Why do people seem more concerned about their retirement plan or winning the lottery than eternal life? The love of money is the root of all evil (1Timothy 6:10).”

“Why do humans seem to pay more homage to sports stars, movie stars, rock stars, politicians, and royal families? Worshipped and served the creature more than the Creator (Romans 1:25).”

“It’s because we have freewill.” (John 7:17, Joshua 24:15, Galatians 5:13, 2 Peter 3:9, 1 Corinthians 10:13).

“And love is not possible without freewill,” Branch said. “God could have made automatons that obeyed Him, but that type of obedience wouldn’t be out of love. Yet the thing that makes love possible, also makes evil possible. Freewill.”

“Well put, Son,” Captain Kirk told him.

“I got it from your book, Sir,” Branch said with a half-smile and a shrug.

“Right,” Captain Kirk continued furrowing his bushy eyebrows. “So we live in a world where freewill has gone awry. For me, the biggest example of this world going awry was the war. The aftermath of my war experience caused me to briefly have my faith waver. But not in the sense that I backslid or rebelled against God, or so I thought. I admit that I fully rebelled against religion. But I became obsessed with the origin of sin. This led to me contemplate heavenly beings actually turning against God. We’re not talking fallen human beings like us. We’re talking heavenly angels that had been in the presence of almighty God.”

“This got me thinking deeply about freewill. Obviously if we mortals are free thinkers with the right to choose, how much more the angels, both fallen and unfallen. If we mortals have such complex minds, how much more spiritual beings.”

“So I developed this concept that there had to be rebellious angels that almost didn’t rebel. Yet they did not repent and were cast out. On the flip side, there had to be unfallen angels that were almost persuaded by Lucifer, yet repented and remained loyal to God.”

My phone blinged that I had text.

“What was that?” Captain Kirk asked.

“My dad wants to know where I am,” I told the pastor as I texted my dad that I was at the pastor’s house. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Captain Kirk replied before he continued. “So, I wrote down my theories on the war in heaven. I speculated that what if we humans, who are more prone to disobedience and selfishness than obedience to God’s law, were once part of the rebellion? What if we were the ones on the fringes, riding the fence if you will, of who to follow? God or Lucifer. 

Somehow those scribbles became a manuscript that got published. And the most controversial part was when I insinuated humanity had been part of the rebellion. Oh boy did that make some people hot. But the thing is, throughout the book, I asked what if? I never once declared this is so until the end. And that’s when I stated, that whether I am right or wrong, we inhabitants of this world need a Savior.

Praise God we were given a Savior in His precious Son, Jesus Christ.  There’s so much scripture I could reference with the only cure for sin that I’ll just go to the most famous. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16).”

“I still don’t get why you regret the book, oh Captain, my Captain,” I said, and he chuckled. “You have never struck me as the type to back down when you know you’re in the right.”

“That’s just it, Dear One,” he replied. “My book is mostly theories, not facts. Now that I’m older, and hopefully wiser, I should have spent my time sharing the gospel. The gospel is what brings salvation, not speculations about the war in heaven. That’s probably why there is so little information in the Good Book about it.”

“But what about Brock, and my dad, and now Branch?” I asked. “The book helped them to see the need of a Savior.”

It almost seemed like saying my dad caused me to receive another text from him. “Oh daddy.”

“Why oh daddy?” Captain Kirk asked.

“He said he’s coming over. He said he needs to talk to me right away. I knew he would become overprotective after I, um, after the ordeal the other day.”

“You should be grateful you have a father who loves you so much,” the pastor said with a smile.

“Oh, I do.”

“Sir,” Branch began cautiously. “I still don’t understand why you regret your book. I mean, sure most of it was speculating in depth about the origin of evil and all. But from where I have been at in the world, I really kind of needed to have the perspective it gave me. Until I got to know Sevenia, I was an agnostic that leaned toward atheist. The part of me that did believe in God, viewed Him probably like the angels that rebelled. You know, a stern being always looking to find fault. Between Sevenia, your church, and then your book, I see God for who he really is, love. Nothing epitomizes that more than Jesus’s life, death and resurrection.”

Captain Kirk bowed his head and nodded. “Thank you, son.”

“No, thank you, sir,” Branch replied. “I wish you were really my dad. Or my grandfather.”

Captain Kirk rumbled out a laugh. “Well my boy, you are soon to be baptized. The Mrs. And I  always considered the flock our children. We never actually had any of our own.”

“Captain Crunchy Bunch!” I declared as I rose to my feet and placed my hands on my hips. “And you said I didn’t need to be baptized? If anyone wants to be a grandchild of yours, it’s me.”

He waved his hands and shook his head. “No, no, dear one. Your getting concerned about semantics or something. You’re already my spiritual granddaughter, and my favorite.”

I couldn’t help laughing. One of the many things I loved about the pastor was how he often reminded me of a brilliant, kooky professor. Only his expertise was Biblical, spiritual matters rather than math or science.

But my laughter was about to make an abrupt stop. There was a knock at the door, and Captain Kirk let my father in. His eyes were blood shot. My first thought was wondering if he was hitting the bottle again after two years sober. Then he looked at me and his lower lip quivered, and I knew something was terribly wrong.

“Daddy, what is it?”

“Sweet Pea,” he croaked. “Your Aunt Charlie was killed in a car accident this afternoon.”

XXXVI

THOU THEREFORE ENDURE HARDNESS, AS A GOOD SOLDIER OF JESUS CHRIST

(2 TIMOTHY 2:3)

PASTOR SAMSON AKA CAPTAIN KIRK

“Hi, Captain Crunchy Bunch,” Sevenia sang as she and Branch Cromwell entered my home.

I was glad to see my sweet young friend returning to her joyful, chipper self. Yet I had been over the mountain and through the woods a few times in my eight decades of life. It had only been three days since she was attacked by a young man who had been a close friend of hers. Said friend also ended his life less than an hour after fleeing the crime scene. I could still perceive pain and confusion in her lovely green-grey eyes.

“Hello, Branch,” I said, smiling at Sevenia’s companion. A ruggedly handsome, tall muscular young man who reminded me of another parishioner named Billy Bob Booker.

Billy had at least seven or eight years on Branch, but both were cut from the same mold. Strong, quiet, earnest, and loyal. There was quite an interesting episode with Mr. Booker. The Lord used him to bring a tough dominatrix prostitute to salvation. Johnathan Embers wrote about it in the e-book, Billy Bob Booker and the Hooker.

I lifted my elbow to Branch and he did likewise. We tapped our funny bones in what was apparently the new, modern handshake. I did it to Sevenia also, and of course, my little pistol had to comment.

“Very hip of you, Cappy,” she giggled.

“Yeah, well, don’t be surprised if I get some bling pretty soon, too.”

“Huh?” she frowned.

“You know, bling, jewelry” I replied. “I figure it will give me swag.”

The youngsters laughed. It was the first time I had witnessed Branch exhibit more happiness than just a half smile. This cheered my own heart. I knew Branch had grown up in a dysfunctional, abusive home. Then talking on the phone with Sevenia the previous day, she informed me of another aspect of his family background, including the occult, satanism, and supposed curses.

Branch’s transformation had amazed me, just as Jeremy’s demise had dismayed me. Before Jeremy went off to college, I had noticed rebellion seeping into his soul. I prayed earnestly and tried every counseling approach I could think of to reach him, but to no avail. On his visits home, I noticed his hardening heart had only intensified. However, what transpired with him and Sevenia, I didn’t see coming. Like Jeremiah declared. ‘The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? (17:9).

On the flip side was Branch. ‘There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repents.’ (Luke 15:10). A pastor notices more than people realize as he or she sermonize. Just as I watched the light leaving Jeremy’s eyes, when Branch began attending, I witnessed his soul become energized by the Holy Spirit. The human experience is baffling. Even after decades of ministry, I frequently scratch head over life on this fallen planet. ‘For now we see through a glass darkly.’ (1 Corinthians 13:12).

“Now, you said you had something exciting to ask me,” I said.

“Actually, it’s Branch,” Sevenia said, looking at her companion.

“Okay, young man, what can I do for you?”

“Yes, sir,” he said uneasily. “Would you baptize me, pastor, sir?”

“I’d be absolutely delighted!”

“Me too,” Sevenia said.

“Huh?” I responded, surprised. “You’ve already been baptized, Dear One.”

“Not here, not by you,” she said as her eyes welled with tears. “I’ve learned so much more truth since coming here two years ago. You’ve taught me so much about how to live spiritually and not for this world.”

I looked at the ruff scallion little lady who was so dear to my heart. Her ruffled red brown hair and sweet innocent eyes that were becoming rapidly wise to the ways of this sin loving world and its diabolical realities. Her extreme faith in rebounding so quickly from something that I know would  haunt her to some degree for the rest of her earthly life inspired me. I almost felt like saying I have need to be baptized of thee.

“Yes, of course I’ll baptize you, Dear One,” I replied dumbly.

“Great!” She said with enthusiasm. “Down at Cotton Creek, at the bend.”

By the bend, she referred to the place that got about four or five feet deep, just past the rippling rocks of the sanctuary spot. The sanctuary spot was what we called a beautiful place we all liked to go to talk with friends, or simply pray and meditate by ourselves. The water rippled soothingly over a hundred rocks and was canopied by whispering pines. In the last two years, I didn’t know anyone who frequented the spot more than Sevenia. It was also the place where she was attacked by a young man who was supposed to be a trusted brother in Christ.

“Absolutely!” I replied, loving her mind set of looking forward rather than back. She always considered me a mentor. Yet this fresh, beautiful soul called Sevenia Sallie taught me how to not look back at all of my numerous failures and mistakes, especially my chaplain years during the Vietnam war and immediately after. All of the men whose mental and spiritual wounds exceeded their physical. All of the men I feel I had failed.

Only my dear departed wife knew that I disliked my nickname. I don’t even know who started calling me Captain Kirk forty plus years ago. I only knew it was a play-off of a television show I had never watched.  The name just seemed to make its presence known one day and never left. What I didn’t like was the title of an officer. Yes, I was honorably discharged as a Captain after a decade in the army and did my job to the best of my ability. But there were men I had prayed with, counseled with, that had at various points ended their own lives. In my mind, this rendered me a private no class, not an officer.

I turned my thoughts and our conversation to the best remedy. The only remedy. Jesus Christ the righteous. I asked Branch the questions pertinent to baptism. I wasn’t surprised that he answered well, and from the heart. But on the other hand, we know what the heart is capable of. I knew he was smitten with adorable, wholesome Sevenia. I just needed to be sure that wasn’t his main motive in partaking of the ceremony representing the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus our redeemer.

That little pistol Sevenia liked to throw me curve balls, and I liked to swing at them. But she threw me one, and I just watched it blur by and heard the ump holler “Strike!”

“Hey C.C.B., why exactly don’t you like the book you wrote?” she asked.

“What do you mean by C.C.B.?”

“Captain Crunchy Bunch,” she replied with a shrug.

I couldn’t help laughing. But then felt my gnarly old toes curl at the thought of discussing my book. “We’ve been over that before S.S.”

She frowned and scrunched her cute little nose. “Don’t call me that, it sounds like the Nazi’s.”

“Okay,” I chuckled. “As long as we don’t talk about that old book of mine. That was then, this is now.”

“Well, you see, Branch here has read it, and he said it played a part in him coming to Christ.”

Now I frowned and scrunched my cute big nose. Although I did know of others that claimed the same thing about the book helping them. Brock Storm is probably the best example. It seems like for each one it helped, there are five others that it annoyed, confused, or angered.

The odd thing was at the time I wrote ‘A Star Fell From Heaven,’ I felt led by God. Then in the aftermath of my fifteen minutes of fame, I wondered, and still do, if God was actually displeased with it.

“Please, Pastor,” Sevenia pleaded. That little pistol made her eyes as wide as she possibly could and gave a slight pout to her lower lip. I was gonna have to ask her dad how often he gave in to her.

“What do you want to know?” I sighed.

Sevenia looked at Branch and his look petitioned her to ask. “What led you to write so in depth about the war in heaven and the casting out of Satan and a third of the angels?”

“Actually,” I sighed again. “It was mostly the war on earth. The Vietnam war I experienced. Then after the war, my own spiritual conflicts. I saw how vain and pretentious most of religion was. I ended up truly realizing for the first time, the twisted fact, that when God became a man and walked among humanity, humanity murdered Him. And not just humanity, His own people. His own religion.

Before I decided to leave the army in the mid 70’s, I determined that I would never make a living as a pastor. My time as an army chaplain was the only time I was ever paid to be a minister of the gospel. I reconnected with another army chaplain I went through basic training with not long after I returned from overseas. He was from the Des Moines area. We were both going through the same struggles. We both felt like we had been through hell and didn’t know how to minister to peace time, prosperity people.

We started getting together, sharing and comparing stories of broken bloody heroic men. Men that died in our arms crying for their mothers. We talked about the ones that cursed God as they died. We recalled the men we counseled after the war that were bitter or drug addicted, or both.

I remember telling him the story of one young man I encountered. Whose body was mostly blown apart. He had me write a letter to his brother for his fiancée as he died. He told me to say that the fighting was heavy here. I don’t think I’ll make it back home. Tell Sheryl to move on from me, I know how incredibly loyal she is. Tell her to love again and go on with her life. That nineteen year old man died the next day. Jimmy Roth was his name. I don’t know how many times I saw him in my sleep.”

I had tried to block out so much from the war. I was so overcome with emotion recalling this one tragic episode of many, I came out of my chair and went to a knee, then two. I’m ashamed to say I couldn’t control myself. I started sobbing so heavily, I began to topple over.

“Pastor!” I heard Sevenia holler.

Then I felt Branch’s strong arms go around me, keeping me from falling. It reminded me of my favorite picture in the foyer of our church. It was of Jesus holding up an anguished sinner who held the nails and hammer that crucified him. Was it my time?

Regardless, I uttered the words I always did when I looked at that painting and saw myself in the man Jesus embraced. “Thank you Dear Lord Jesus! I’m undeserving of your love and mercy. It was my sins that you died for.”

XXXV

I BEHELD SATAN AS LIGHTNING FALL FROM HEAVEN

(LUKE 10:18)

SEVENIA SALLIE GIRL PROPHETESS

I was at Cotton Creek with Branch the day after Jeremy attacked me there. Jeremy, one of my best friends, had tried to rape me at one of my favorite places on the planet. A special spot where I had shared so many wonderful conversational encounters with numerous brothers and sisters in Christ. Then Jeremy almost ruined my natural sanctuary with one horrific nightmare.

My feelings soared and plummeted as I rode an emotional roller coaster. Ultimately, Branch helped me claim my spot back by sharing his conversion story with me. But even that dipped down after soaring me high. He revealed a dark side of his family background. Not only was his father a Satanist, he supposedly put a curse on Branch after finding out he was becoming a Christian.

“Oh my!” I replied after he told me. “What are you gonna do?”

“What can I do, but ask a blessing for every curse?” he replied with a nonchalant shrug. Then he gave me a half smile that was like a laugh for my sullen serious boyfriend. Yes, he was no longer my friend that was a boy, but my brand new boyfriend. Whatever that meant, I didn’t fully understand yet.

“That’s a great attitude to have,” I said with a sweet smile as I took hold of his hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze as his eyes looked into mine with love and compassion. I felt a sense of shyness I had never experienced with Branch before.

I glanced away from his gaze and my eyes fell on the spot where Jeremy had pinned me. I shuddered as the day old memory arose vividly in my mind. I began to quiver as I remembered how exposed and vulnerable I felt after he bound my wrists together with my own clothing. Branch and I still held hands, and he pulled me toward him in an effort to comfort me. I yanked my hand from his and barked, “No.”

“Sorry,” he said with wide startled eyes as he took a step back as he showed me his hands in a ‘mean no harm’ gesture. Then his countenance became sad and helpless as his stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. My big strong Branch, who had taken many beatings from his stepfather, even as a small boy, knew how I was feeling.

I took three quick steps toward him and wrapped my arms around his center until I grabbed my wrist at the middle of his back. I buried my head in his chest and sobbed. He was so incredibly strong, sturdy and still. Most importantly, he felt safe. Especially when I felt a hand land feather light on my back and gently rub. He quietly waited for my personal storm to pass.

After it did, I leaned back and looked up at him. His shaggy blonde hair framed his handsome face, and tears had streaked down his cheeks in sympathy with my pain. I didn’t understand the in’s and out’s, do’s and don’t of an old fashioned courtship. But I couldn’t help myself with what I did next.

“Branch, I love you so much,” I whispered and then smiled at him.

He must have been overjoyed at my words. He not only gave me a half smile, both corners spread and arose so much his slightly crooked teeth were exposed. “I love you, too. More than words can say.”

I went as high as I could on tip toe with puckered lips, but couldn’t quite connect to his lips. I stood slightly wobbling and feeling foolish for several seconds while he comprehended what was happening. Then he lowered his mouth onto mine and we shared a short, sweet lip lock.

As we smiled shyly afterward, I considered something else I wanted to reclaim. Jeremy may have technically been my first kiss, but he stole it. I recalled how he jammed his tongue in mouth and remembered how vile it felt. The way the combination of the force and the taste of booze made me gag and throw up. I winced and the smile quickly vanished from Branch’s face. I knew he thought it was somehow from the kiss, and there was no question now with what I had to do.

“Branch,” I said quietly. “Just once would you kiss me like they do in France? Then I think we should wait until we are married before kissing becomes a pastime. Are you okay with that?”

Although the kiss didn’t even last a minute, it made me wish we could marry tomorrow. Although I was naïve when it came to the birds and bees, I knew guys seemed to be more passionate about intimacy than girls. So if I wanted to continue, I assumed Branch did. They say a key to a good, solid relationship is communication. So we communicated.

“When we’re married, we’ll have our whole lives to kiss like they do in France and more,” Branch told me. Surprising me again with what one might refer to as an ear to ear grin.

“Are you sure?” I asked with a sweet smile and my best attempt to bat my eyes. “I’ll at least need to wait until I’m out of high school. That’s more than a year, minimum.”

“Who was it that served seven years for his lady?” He asked. “And it seemed like a few days because his love for her was so intense?”

“Rachel and Jacob,” I replied. (Genesis 29:20).

“Right, so I can wait thirteen months,” he said happily.

“I said at least,” I laughed as I shoved him. Then his face became cautious, and he frowned.

“You know how we shouldn’t keep any secrets, right?”

Now I felt cautious as I frowned. What was in addition to curses and occult activity? “Right.”

“I read Captain Kirk’s book,” he told me with serious eyes. “I just finished it before I came to get together with you.”

“That’s it?” I laughed. “Why would you feel the need to divulge that?”

“You said you didn’t like the book. You even told me the Pastor regretted writing it.”

“I never…” I began, but stopped. Did I tell Branch I didn’t like it?

“It was actually instrumental in my decision to accept Christ as my personal Savior,” he informed me.

“It was?” I asked with a frown. “But it was a book all about the war in heaven, and Satan and a third of the angels being cast out (Revelation 12:3, 4). I prefer to focus on Jesus and redemption.”

“But that’s the whole reason of why we need Jesus and redemption,” Branch replied. “That book helped me to understand the situation we’re in here on this fallen planet. I used to blame the condition of the world on God. Yet my father’s ways seemed wrong. All of them. Step, bio and grand. Yet the world is just too marvelous and miraculous to embrace atheism.  Understanding the rebellion in heaven, and the way God’s only begotten Son responded to it, changed me.”

“By Jesus coming here and living as a man. Not only that, living perfectly as a man. Leaving the majesty of heaven to become our Savior. To die a cruel death for the sacrifice of our sins when He didn’t deserve it. Not only that, He couldn’t see through the portals of the tomb. When He died for your sins and mine, there were moments when He thought it was going to be permanent, eternal death! Yet He did it anyway!”

I looked at Branch with open mouth. Not only because of what he had just declared. Which proved to me his conversion was genuine. I had never witnessed him string together so many words in a row. I also recalled speed reading Captain Kirk’s only book, and realized I might not have given it it’s just due. I smiled at him and shrugged, conceding. “Maybe I should read it again.”

“So why does Captain Kirk regret writing it?” Branch asked.

“Well,” I frowned. “It’s been two years since we discussed it, back when we first became close buds. I think he said it caused a real firestorm when it first became popular. He was widely criticized over his theories about different aspects of the war in heaven. Especially when he speculated that a large portion of humanity may have been involved in the rebellion, but became human rather than fallen angels. So then life in this world would be a chance for redemption. As much as I love and respect the pastor, I don’t really understand or agree with that premise. Also, by the theory, he basically insinuated we might have preexisted.”

“I think it makes perfect sense,” Branch said with a shrug. “I mean, look at the free will aspect. If we human beings have free will, how much more the angels, both good and bad. I mean think of the  rebellious angels that were cast out. Obviously, they had free will or they wouldn’t have, couldn’t have rebelled.”

Branch looked at me and waited for a reaction. But I didn’t have one. Were we in the twilight zone? Branch was being talkative and I was almost speechless. “So what’s your point?”

“Actually it was Captain Kirk’s point,” Branch continued. “Look at the various degrees of a person’s thinking, beliefs, views, passions, sins, I could go on and on. There’s so many different levels of where people are at in life’s journey. It’s all free will.

Think about the war in heaven. Lucifer obviously convinced 33% of the angels in heaven to side with him to the point they were kicked out. Of the righteous angels, 67% sided with God. So if we humans have freewill, then how much more the angels? Now take the bad angels. Wouldn’t it be safe to assume that anywhere from, oh, say 5 to 10 percent were not sure they should side with Lucifer, but did?”

“Okay, I think I’m seeing the point,” I nodded.

“And of the good angels,” Branch continued.  “Maybe 33 percent weren’t sure who they should side with. Maybe 5 to 10 percent came awfully close to siding with Lucifer, but ultimately didn’t. Just maybe, those that bought into the being that became Satan, but didn’t rebel needed a test. Thus they became human.”

“And that’s where you lose me,” I said.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree,” Branch replied as he spread his arms and returned his smile to the typical half-mast.

“Agreed,” I said with a grin and offered my hand to shake.

He shook it, and to my relief gave me his new and improved smile that gave a glimpse of teeth.

“I also think we should go see Captain Kirk,” I told him and winked. “It seems we have multiple reasons.”

XXXIV

THE HEART IS DECEITFUL ABOVE ALL THINGS, and DESPERATELY WICKED: WHO CAN KNOW IT?

BRANCH CROMWELL

(JEREMIAH 17:9)

I was headed down a dire path when I first met Sevenia. She was truly an answer to prayer. As feeble as that prayer might have been. The written word, or even a camera, cannot fully capture her beauty to its fullest extent. A little like what John said at the end of his gospel about Jesus.

‘And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written. Amen. (John 21:25).

As cute and pretty as Sevenia is, if ten guys saw Sevenia and your typical blonde cheerleader walking down the street, nine out of the ten are watching the cheerleader. Maybe even all ten. But if you’re blessed enough to get to know the lovely little nerd, you can see a light and love in her eyes that exceeds anything typically human. When I eventually acknowledged my observation to her, she explained it the way the Savior often explained things. With an ‘it is written.’

“Thank you,” she replied happily. “It’s because I ‘am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live: yet not I, but Christ lives in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.’” (Galatians 2:20)

When she spoke those words to me, it was as if a halo floated above her head. It was the beginning of me truly desiring her as a romantic partner. Yet when I thought of her that way, it was as a companion first, a sexual partner secondary, and sometime in the future.

I cannot lie. When I was first getting to know Sevenia, I was carnal, sold under sin. (Romans 7:14). I looked at girls I was attracted to as conquests. Females I wanted to sexually consume. Although I was still a virgin due to shyness, female attention because of my bad boy image had almost put me in a position to experience my erotic desires.

Then I met Sevenia, and her influence caused me to desire the spiritual over carnal. Instead of wanting to ravage and devour Brittney Stevens or Carly Laimbeer. Hot girls that almost insisted we be intimate. But no, I thought of, and I longed to cuddle and hold Sevenia. I dreamt of us having kids one day and the white picket fence. But behind that, I had issues.

My biological father and grandfather were both somewhat famous Satanists, but for different reasons. The little bit of contact I had with both men who fascinated me, left me with longing. My stepfather was moderately religious and a tyrant. My over exposure to him left me longing for escape. Needless to say, I was confused. Enter an angel named Sevenia.

But I had competition in the form of a super smart, slightly effeminate, mildly black guy named Jeremy. I always felt like he had the edge over me because his family belonged to Sevenia’s church. So I tried not to let my heart be overly beholden by someone who may not want to give hers to me. After all, she was up front with both of us that she was not interested in romance, ever!

Yet there were tells. The way she would crinkle that cute nose and laugh with me in a way she wouldn’t with people like the Storm’s, Easton’s, or Captain Kirk. Or the time she wanted to see the spot where Amy and Dirk Easton kissed for the time. An abandoned railroad bridge that was actually written about in the e-book ‘Knight Storm’ by Johnathan Embers.

I thought it was a hint. Just like it was for Amy and Dirk. You see, they went there because of Mary Gold and Jake Weston, which was another e-book written by Johnathan Embers, ‘Spoiled Produce.’ But after picking up a giggling Sevenia, I carried her across the bridge. She then punched me in the stomach before I could kiss her and stepped away from me. But then she bit her lower lip, as if to say, ‘I wanted to, but I’m going to have a lifetime of celibacy, so don’t tempt me.’

I really didn’t know much about her relationship with Jeremy. So it was wide open to speculation when I saw that engagement ring on Sevenia’s finger. It didn’t enter my mind that he might have tricked it on there. I just assumed he convinced her and she accepted.

It hurt, but I maned up and accepted it. One of the biggest things Sevenia taught me about spirituality was that God doesn’t force Himself on anyone. He wants willful obedience and love that is real and natural. Jesus says if you love me, keep my commandments. (John:14:15)

As painful as it was feeling like I lost Sevenia, it actually pushed me to find God. Sure, I had been in the process of seeking, but I hadn’t surrendered. The whole ordeal could have pushed me back into my old way of thinking and living. I definitely felt the pull. But the drawing of God was stronger and helped me let go. Plus it gave me a comfortable element of peace when I thought about that ring on her finger.

When I found out that Sevenia had been assaulted and was at the hospital, I wanted to rush to her side. But I knew I needed to wait. Then I heard Jeremy killed himself. It was a strong temptation to think ‘good, he deserved it.’ But I made myself pray for his family and for Sevenia, that it would not dim the bright light she had in her soul. The light of Jesus in her that encouraged others.

The following day I needed to see her. I cared about her too much. Even if it were for only a minute, I wanted some assurance that she would pull through. I also thought informing her of my conversion would brighten her spirit. I had no inclination whatsoever that she was going to declare she was in love with me and was interested in courtship. That’s when I knew I had to tell her more details about my family background. I knew she was close to Lexi, but I also knew she found her involvement with the occult disturbing.

“So….” Sevenia drawled. “How does Lexi know your family?”

“She doesn’t actually know them,” I explained. “She knows about them. You see, my biological dad’s name is Axel Cromwell. He’s a well know guitarist for the satanic band Demon’s Reich.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” she frowned.

“They’re big in Europe, but here in the states they’re not as popular as, say, Slayer or Marilyn Manson.”

“Who’s Slayer and Marilyn Manson? Surly you can’t be talking about the sweet little old lady that died a few weeks ago.”

“No, I’m not talking about her, but it doesn’t matter,” I replied with a shrug. “It’s simply that I resemble Axel, and given my last name, Lexi asked if I was related to him and Amstel Cromwell. He’s my grandfather. He was a scientist that was involved with the Manhattan project.”

“Wasn’t that the World War II project that invented the atomic bomb?”

“It was.”

“What role did he play?”

“I’m not sure. It must not have been much. Wikipedia tells more about his friendship with Jack Parsons, the occult, and Hollywood parties than it does any work he might have done.”

“You were born in California, weren’t you?” Sevenia asked. “You’ve told me that before.”

“Yeah, my mom and dad met on the Sunset Strip in LA. My bio dad, Axel, and his band was just starting out, and my mom was an aspiring model. They never married, and split up when I was two. My mom was originally from Iowa and moved here with me. She met my stepdad when she was a waitress at a restaurant he managed. It seemed to me like he was always my dad, and my real dad was like an uncle. I don’t even remember asking about this guy with really long blonde hair that dropped in to see me once or twice a year.”

“Did you resent him?”

“No,” I said with a shrug. “He was always way cool and brought me gifts and stuff. Even when I hated my stepdad, I understood my real dad traveled most of the year.”

“So… Why did you feel the need to warn me?” Sevenia wanted to know. “Did you get involved with the occult too?”

“No, not really,” I replied. “Especially with what happened with my stepdad. I mean, it may be a coincidence, I don’t know, but the timing was really freaky.”

“What are you talking about?” Sevenia frowned.

“Oh, that’s right,” I chuckled. “I’m just now telling you about my bio dad. So about a year before you and I met, I told my real dad about how I was sometimes a punching bag for my stepdad. He told me not to worry about it. He said he had already put a curse on him. He said the spirits told him he was making my life miserable. He told me I would see the result very soon. Now Axel is even worse than your typical rock star, so I just thought he was either nuts or joking. But it was two days later that my stepdad was diagnosed with ALS. He never hit me again.”

“Wow, that is strange.”

“So what do you think?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Sevenia replied with a shrug. “But the Bible warns us that demons and devils have the ability to work miracles. Satan himself will one day appear as an angel of light.” (2 Corinthians 11:14)

“So here’s another thing,” I told her, and then winced. “Do you want to hear it?”

“Of course,” the sweet little saint said with wide eyes.

“Lexi has also told me she goes to see Jezebel Black in prison once a month,” I informed  her. “Jezebel also knows my dad. Go figure. So he found out about my Christian commitments. He said he would not only cut me off, but curse me.”

“Oh my!” Sevenia said. “What are you gonna do?”

XXXIII

BEHOLD I STAND AT THE DOOR AND KNOCK

(REVELATION 3:20)

SEVENIA SALLIE

I felt anxious as I approached Cotton Creek. I glanced right and then left at the majestic Cottonwood trees that seemed to loom protectively over a little grove of a dozen soft pine trees. The evergreens hovered over a rippling part of the creek, where the water danced and snaked musically through and over a hundred bowling ball sized rocks.

I looked at the spot where Jeremy punched me and shuddered while ripping most of my clothes from my body. A wave of nausea coursed through my torso and I gagged. My mouth filled with excess saliva. After swallowing several times, I was panting. Was I going to throw up? This was a bad idea telling Branch to meet me here.

Jeremy had given me the most frightening moment of my life right here. I didn’t want him to also steal my favorite place to be alone, pray, and mediate. It was also my favorite place to converse with friends one on one. I closed my eyes and whispered one of my many favorite Bible verses to myself.

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear: because fear has torment. He that fears is not made perfect in love.” (1 John 4:18).

“Are you afraid?” Branch’s soft, deep voice asked.

I gasped, turned, took a couple steps back and tripped over the same rock that helped Jeremy assault me. Branch reached out quickly and grabbed my forearm, keeping me from falling. Yet the second I was steady, I yanked it from his hold and began to shake.

“Sevenia, I’m sorry,” he said gently as he showed me his hands and took a step back away from me. “I just..”

“No, I’m sorry,” I told him as I took a step toward him and put a hand on his arm. Then I jerked it away as if I had just touched a hot stove.

“We can go somewhere else,” he said as he looked at me with a sad, yet compassionate expression. He eased his hands deep into his jeans pockets, as if to reassure me he meant no harm. “Or is it me?”

“No, it’s not you,” I said emphatically, but then frowned.

Branch arched an eyebrow and smirked. “Did you just lie?”

“No,” I said, raising my own brow. But then I frowned again. “It’s not you, Branch. I’m just having a hard time processing everything. I, um…”

Branch’s bowed his head slightly as he gazed at me with calm, hooded eyes and waited. I don’t know about you, but often when I feel inner turmoil, I also become hyper aware of realities I had been oblivious to. I experienced a large element of clarity on my relationships with both Branch and Jeremy.

Jeremy liked to talk and was often all over the place. It was hard following him by times, but I guess I found satisfaction in trying to counsel him. With Branch and me, there was more of a give and take. Yet he spent a lot of time just listening to me. Like right now, as he patiently waited for me to speak, even though he was the one who wanted to get together.

“Branch, why did you want to see me?”

“Well, I was worried about you,” he said with a little shrug. “Plus I wanted to tell you something to set your mind at ease.”

I opened my mouth to ask him what would set my mind at ease, but he continued speaking.

“So, if you’re having a hard time processing, you know, what happened,” he said cautiously. “Why did you want to meet with me at the spot where you were, um…?”

“Raped?”

His eyes looked startled. “I was under the impression he didn’t succeed.”

“Not physically,” I said shaking my head. “But he violated my mind. He put something traumatic there that will never leave. And he stole my place. He…”

I started to whimper. I felt whiny, pathetic and selfish. After all Jeremy took more from himself, his own life. Even though I couldn’t help feeling anger over how he had changed, and what he did to me. I also felt love, loss, and grief over Jeremy. It was confusing.

“Sevenia,” Branch said softly as he moved toward me with open arms, and then he thought otherwise and stepped back.

I sniffed, rubbed my nose and hugged myself. I felt an odd sense of disappointment when Branch pulled away. I felt strangely alone. Yet I’m never alone. Christ will never leave nor forsake me. (Hebrews 13:5). But now, like never before, I felt drawn to Branch. I realized how much I loved Branch. And I wanted to feel those strong, protective arms around me.

I was going through a valley of darkness that was blacker than the deaths of my mother and my best friend Anna. What I experienced the day before was diabolical. But it opened my eyes to my own spiritual pride. People patted me on the back because of the simple way I lived my life. They called me a prophetess and a saint, when I just followed the Bible by the way it read. I thought I was being humble by having an ‘ah shucks’ attitude, but I enjoyed the praise. Especially when I had dealt with so much scorn from the secular world. Yet now when my faith was tested, I had failed.

When I was under attack by Jeremy, I panicked. Yet I also became angry and was wondering where God was as I tried to resist the assault. Then when my arms were bound by my own garments, a verse popped into my head. ‘In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.’ (John 16:33). This verse was instantly followed by another. ‘Not as I will, but as thou wilt.’ (Matthew 26:39) Words of Jesus as he accepted His fate on the cross. I felt my heart break over my Savior. I asked for forgiveness with a mumble. This next part may sound corny. But I think the Holy Spirit spoke using my voice. “Father forgive him, for he knows not what he is doing.” (Luke 23:34)

That’s when Jeremy paused and looked horror stricken. I don’t know how long ten seconds, twenty, a minute. But it was long enough for the light to come on in the sanctuary. So I screamed with every bit of lung power I had, and Captain Kirk heard and came to my rescue.

Now as I stood with Branch, a breeze made the pines whistle. It made me shiver, even though I wore a sweatshirt. I was realizing I might not want to be forever free of romance. I might not be a boy crazy, vanity inspired teenage girl, but I was now longing for Branch and me to possibly, one day, maybe, experience deeper intimacy. Perhaps we would even marry. Perchance.

But Branch had not fully committed to God. I might have been wavering on my intention to live a life of celibacy. And Branch was currently the only realistic possibility. But I would not, could not be yoked with an unbeliever. Especially when a supposed believer like Jeremy flipped. Then Branch proceeded to tell me about a very recent change in his life. This alteration would also spell a major change in my own life.

“I’m sorry,” I quietly told Branch, and then forced a smile.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” he said, gravely. “I think I understand. Right here is one of your favorite places. Peaceful and beautiful, just like you. Now you feel like it’s tainted.”

He knew me so well. Did he just indirectly call me peaceful and beautiful? It was all I could do to keep from throwing my arms around his middle and burying my head in his chest. Why, oh why, Dear Lord, hasn’t he given his heart to you?

“You nailed it!” I declared looking away from him as I fought off tears. I quickly composed myself and looked him in the eyes. “You said you wanted to tell me something to set my mind at ease.”

“Yeah,” he said as he pulled his hands from his pockets, spread his arms, and gave a little smile. “I’m over you.”

“What!” I couldn’t help barking. Then I shook my head. “Sorry, I mean, what do you mean you’re over me?”

“No, no, what I mean is I’ve expelled the romantic feelings I had toward you,” he said, and then made a pushing motion off to his side. “I’m hoping we can be friends.”

“Of course,” I replied meekly, my brain whirling with confusion.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he said, returning his hands into his pockets again. “When I saw you with, you know who, and that ring on your finger, I was jealous. But not angry, it was more like hurt and loss. But it gave me the, I don’t know, kick in the pants, or maybe enlightenment that I needed. Do you know what I mean?”

“Not really,” I replied with a frown.

“I think my spiritual desires were possibly being overshadowed by my romantic desires for you. As painful as it was, I finally accepted we would never be together. I wish this didn’t sound cliché, but I ended up letting go and letting God. Do you follow me now?”

“No,” I said quietly as a metaphoric knife pierced my heart. Yet it was my own fault he was over me. Besides I already accepted I would not, could not, be yoked to someone who hadn’t given their heart to the Lord.”

“What I’m trying to say,” Branch continued with genuine peace in his countenance. “I gave my heart to the Lord.”

“You did!” I replied as my whole body became electrified with joy.

“Yeah,” he said with a little laugh. Then he shuffled his feet with embarrassment. “You know the declaration I made to you a little over a week ago.”

“You mean when you said you were in love with me?” I tried to ask with a sultry voice. I also attempted a gaze that spoke of romantic interest. But my emotions were all tangled, and he wasn’t looking directly at me anyway.

“So, this last week I read Psalms, Proverbs, Daniel, and I just started Revelation last night,” he informed me.

“I was gonna study the prophesies of Daniel and Revelation with you, remember?” I asked him.

He nodded skeptically and continued. “I came across Revelation 3:20 and became, um, transfixed. I read it over and over. Jesus stands at the door and knocks. But it is our choice whether we open that door and let Him in. Love can’t be forced. So I got down on my knees and prayed for a long time. I poured out my soul until I was empty. Then I asked Jesus in to fill me back up with Himself. I’m gonna ask Captain Kirk if I he will baptize me.”

“Branch, this is wonderful,” I said stepping toward him. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him. I felt his body go ridged and realized I overstepped some boundaries. Before I could back away, his hands ever so gently landed on my back.

“Sevenia,” Branch began with a nervous chuckle. “I realize I was being, um, hasty in saying we couldn’t be friends if we couldn’t be more. But if we do keep hanging out, I don’t think we should be hugging.”

“Branch, would you consider changing your mind?” I asked as I backed away from him.

“About hugging?”

“No, you’re right, maybe we shouldn’t be hugging. But would you consider changing your mind about us courting?”

“Huh?” He asked with a frown.

“I’m in love with you, Branch,” I told him as my eyes welled up. “I want us to be more.”

“Well, of course, I’ll change my mind,” he said laughing.

“Can I do one thing to claim back my spot?”

“Okay,” he said with a shrug.

I went on tip toe and kissed him on the lips. I giggled at the surprised look on his face.

“I need to tell you something though,” he said with a concerned look.

“Okay,” I replied cautiously.

“I know that you know I have a dysfunctional background,” he said.

“Don’t worry, we all have obstacles. Look what just happened to me.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he replied wincing. “My family background is, um, messed up.”

“Messed up how?”

“Occultic, satanic.”

“Oh my!”

“Yeah, well, Lexi Gomez figured me out. I mean, I guess. I mean I’m not hiding anything. But you know she was into, um…”

“I know, satanism. So what do you mean she figured you out?”

“Well, my last name. She asked me about my name the last time I went to church with you. If I was that Cromwell.

“What Cromwell?” I asked, but before he could answer I added. “Are you that Cromwell?”

“Yes.”

XXXII

SEVENIA SALLIE

I never felt more prone to discouragement than when I laid on the examination table at the hospital after I was assaulted. The grief I felt was even deeper than when I lost my mother and Anna, my best friend, within two months of each other. I didn’t feel this pain for me and the horror I experienced. It was for my attacker. Someone who had expressed his love for me, yet had punched me several times and attempted to deflower me in the most vile, despicable manner.

I believe I will be reunited with Anna and my mom in heaven one day. My mother, despite the grievous sins she committed during her life, repented. She also, as far as possible in her health condition, made restitution to those she wronged.  However the perpetrator of my attack expressed his anger at God and gave me an indication he might harm himself to the point of extinguishing his life.

When they released me from the hospital, I felt really uncomfortable with my distraught dad. Yet he insisted on holding my hand. I resisted the urge to yank it free from his grasp, not wanting to hurt his feelings. I realized he was traumatized in his own right. Yet when we saw Destiny and Lexi in the parking lot, it was a good excuse to break free of his hold and go to them.

After I assured my two crying friends that I was okay, Amy seemed to appear from the shadows with tear rimmed eyes. After I filled my sisters-in-Christ in on the ordeal, I was overcome with fatigue. I just wanted to go home and crawl into my bed.

Ten hours later I awoke to murmuring voices. I could tell by the sunlight streaming in from between the cracks from the window shade that it was early afternoon. I quickly dressed, anxious to see who my dad was talking to, feeling like there was some news. It was, in fact, devastating information. When I opened my bedroom door, six eyes looked at me. Destiny’s eyes looked sad and compassionate. Brock and my father’s eyes looked startled and uncertain.

“Hi, sweetie,” Destiny said.

“Hi,” I squeaked as I stared intently at Brock. “I assume you have some news.”

He looked uneasily at my dad, back to me, and then his mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything.

“Honey,” my dad said hesitantly and then cleared his throat. “He’s dead.”

I fell to my knees sobbing, and a couple seconds later I felt Destiny’s arms go around me. The two men were probably puzzled why I would be so upset over a man who had punched me. He also would have raped me if two things hadn’t hindered his progress.

First my tights, reflecting their namesake, came off with great difficulty. And then after I screamed, Captain Kirk called out and came running toward us, causing my assailant to stumblingly flee as he hiked up his jeans. He saved me and I needed to see my pastor and mentor.

It wasn’t just for the comfort and guidance, but to explain the ordeal to him. I had never seen him look more concerned than when he drove me to the hospital. Yet I couldn’t speak. All I could do is try unsuccessfully to not shake and shiver. He opened his door and looked both relieved and concerned.

“Hi, Captain Crunch,” I said, using my personal nickname for him.

“Hello, Sevenia,” he said with a cautious smile. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I shrugged, trying and failing to be lighthearted. I took a couple quick steps toward him and hugged him as I started sobbing.

“Are you okay, dear one?” he asked gently.

“Yeah,” I croaked. “I stopped by to tell you what happened.”

“You don’t need to do that. I get the gist of your ordeal.”

“I need to tell you for myself as well. I need your wisdom and guidance in processing everything, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind. But if it’s too fresh and painful…”

“No,” I said shaking my head vigorously. “I’ve already told the police, my dad, Amy, Lexi, Destiny, and Brock what happened. Now, just before I came over here, I found out he’s dead.”

“Your attacker?”

“Yes,”

“Did you know him?”

“Yes,” I croaked. “And so do you.”

His furry little eyebrows arched and his pale blue eyes looked frightened. “Who?”

So I composed myself and told him.

It had begun the day before yesterday. Jeremy was back from college and came over to see me. We were talking about this, that and the other thing, and I brought up Branch. I told him about his declaration of love a week earlier. I guess that was the beginning of everything going askew, even though I didn’t realize it in the moment.

Jeremy acted like it was no big deal, you know, that I was contemplating a, um, deeper relationship with Branch. But a half hour after he leaves, he calls me and wants me to meet him at Cotton Creek, a special spot by a circle of pines where the water ripples through the rocks. He said he had a surprise for me.

So I met him there. He was all smiles and happy, but was acting nervous too. After beating around the bush about the surprise, he told me to close my eyes and hold out my hands. I felt him push something on to my left ring finger. I opened my eyes and asked him what he was doing.

“It’s my mom’s engagement ring,” he said.

“Why did you just put it on my finger?” I asked with a frown.

“Because I love you,” he told me.

I was actually quite put off by his presumption of presuming and not asking. Especially when I never gave any inclination that I desired him romantically. At least I think. Of course I thought that about Branch too. Boys and their hormones can be weird, I guess.

Then someone called my name and approached us. It was Branch. I hadn’t had time to process what was going on, or to remove the ring and tell Jeremy he was moving way to fast and aggressively. I was stunned because something like this from Jeremy was not like him. Branch looked at my hand with the engagement ring on it and froze. Then he quickly and calmly composed himself.

“Sorry, your dad said you came her to the creek,” Branch explained to me uneasily. “I thought you were by yourself. Hello, Jeremy.”

Jeremy nodded at Branch with a grim expression.

“So what’s going on?” Branch asked with a noticeable quiver in his voice. So unlike his calm, subtly macho demeanor.

“Sevenia and I were having a special moment together,” the typically timid Jeremy said boldly. “A private moment.”

Was I in the twilight zone?

“Is that right?” Branch asked and then looked at me with desperation in his eyes.

I couldn’t speak. I wanted to tell them both that this was all a misunderstanding. I wanted to tell them both that I wanted to be celibate for the rest of my life and just move on. Why did either of them want to be more than friends anyway?

“Fine, sorry to interrupt,” Branch said with what seemed like ominous calm.

Before I could think of something to say, Branch walked briskly away. As I watched him disappear into the trees, Jeremy took hold of my hand and gently, yet firmly pulled me toward him and tried to kiss me. That was when there was no mistaking the smell of alcohol on his breath.

“Have you been drinking, Jeremy?”

“A little,” he shrugged. “I was nervous about proposing marriage.”

“Where was the proposal? It was more like a demand.” I said, yanking off the ring and handing it to him. “And what’s with the drinking? I’ve never known you to drink before.”

“I started drinking a little bit at college,” he said with a shrug and a pained expression.  “I’m sorry. I went about this all wrong. It’s just, when you told me about you and Branch, it made me panic about how right I know you are for me. I can’t lose you.”

“Lose me?”

“I’ve always kinda thought of you as my girlfriend.”

“We have always just been friends, Jeremy. We’ve never so much as held hands, and we’ve hardly been in contact since you’ve been away at school. How can you say you viewed me as a girlfriend?”

“School isn’t what I thought it would be, it’s just been…” he gasped and covered his face for a long moment. “I better go!”

Jeremy dashed off faster than Branch. I went home and decided to call Branch to explain what happened. Yet I wasn’t sure myself. I rehearsed what I might say. When I about had it a little bit sorted out, I got a text from Jeremy.

“I’ve got some stuff I’m dealing with. I can’t handle it. I think I need to end it all.”

It felt like electricity surged through my body. I texted him back some encouragement, but also told him he needed to stop drinking. He replied that he wanted to meet me at Cotton Creek again to talk and watch the sunset. I agreed and went back to talk to him.

As I got out of my car and began walking to the creek, Branch called. Although I was praying sporadically, I wasn’t watching very good either. I wasn’t diligent. Like a fool, I told Branch exactly where I was and who I was talking to. He mumbled have a nice life and hung up. I looked at my phone with clenched teeth. Why did my two good friends have to flip out at the same time?

The first thing I discovered with Jeremy was that he hadn’t stopped drinking. He increased. I know little about substance abuse. Although Jeremy was probably legally drunk, he wasn’t falling down drunk. He wasn’t quite slurring either. But he was all the way belligerent, and that wasn’t like him. When I first got there, he just glared at me like I was his worst enemy. This made me mad, so I folded my arms and attempted to glare back. He snorted a sarcastic laugh and shook his head.

“What?” was all I could think to say.

“Hostility doesn’t suit you well.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Could ya?” he barked.

“Jeremy, what’s your problem? I know since we have become friends you’ve struggled with depression and anxiety, but self-medicating isn’t the answer.”

“Oh and what is, God?” He asked with such bitterness, I flinched.

I opened my mouth to reply, but he cut me off. He then proceeded to poor out his heart, mind, and soul for the next ten or fifteen minutes. His anger dissipated, and was replaced by anguish and sadness, so I patiently listened.

He told me in detail about what happened with his uncle. His mother’s younger sister’s husband. Before I just simply knew he was sexually abused by a relative from the time he was twelve, until he was sixteen. Then he told me about becoming friends with a young man at college, and how it evolved into an intimate relationship.

Who knew I would be meeting this same young man six days later at Jeremy’s funeral? I would actually learn more about Jeremy’s secrets from him than Jeremy himself. Jeremy finished his tirade with a few derogatory slang words for homosexuality. Then he lashed out at me.

“It’s your fault,” he said with gritted teeth.

This took me by surprise. I felt my mouth drop open, and my eyebrows arch upward. “Huh?”

“Don’t huh me,” he said stepping closer and then did air quotes as he started to speak again. “All those great spiritual conversations we had. All the times I subtly mentioned sexual desires. And you! You always pointed out Bible verses like sensual having NOT the spirit. How you were never gonna marry. How you were gonna be celibate, and be married to God. What a joke!”

“Jeremy, Lis…”

“Don’t Jeremy me! I’m attracted to men on some level, okay! Before I met you, I looked at porn and masturbated daily. Then you and me became friends, and you know what? I found you attractive. At first I thought it was because you were like a cute boy. But no, I found your girlish ways appealing. I started thinking about kissing those soft silky lips of yours and imagined…”

“Jeremy, stop!”

“Stop what!” He barked as he stepped toward me and clutched my upper arms tightly. He reeked from alcohol, and it gagged me. “Are you afraid of real truth on planet earth?”

“Let go of me,” I said as I was about to kick him in the shin. But he let go of me and started to cry.

“I loved you,” he croaked. “And I thought if I gave you space, you might love me. I hoped we could marry and I would be delivered from sexual desires I both hate, yet ironically can’t get enough of. We could have two or three kids, the white picket fence and…”

He started sobbing, sat on a rock, and put his face in his hands. I just watched him and silently prayed until he quieted a couple minutes later.

“It’s okay,” I said quietly.

“Is it okay?” he growled as he shot up from the rock. “Maybe for you. Patience is a virtue, they say. So I patiently wait for you. I come back from school, and my sister tells me Branch Cromwell attends church with you almost every week. I brush it off thinking, surely a big good looking stud like Branch wouldn’t have romantic interests in a nerdy little Amish looking girl like Sevenia. I mean he can have his pick of girls, or even me. But then you and I talk, and low and behold you inform me Branch has put a claim of love on my sweet little Sevenia. And although she acts indifferent, I can tell she’s interested. But you know what? Maybe you didn’t know it, but I claimed you first.”

He clutched me by my upper arms again so hard and pressed his lips to mine so fast, I had a difficult time comprehending what was happening. I pushed away from him, stepped backward and stumbled over a rock. I fell on my back side, and before I could move, he was on top of me. He jammed his tongue in my mouth. Between that and his toxic breath, I threw up a little. He pulled back instantly.

“You…” he growled, calling me the slang word for a female dog. Then he punched me in the eye. I now see why cartoons have stars floating around the head of a character receiving a head wound. As I tried to focus, I felt a  tugging underneath me. I lifted my head and watched Jeremy pull my skirt over my shoes.

I was momentarily free, and attempted to rise and scramble away. But he quickly tackled me. We wrestled for a minute, but although he was slight for a man, I was slight for woman. It didn’t take him long to pin me. After he did, he struck me again. This time he struck on the temple. Everything went blurry and my head plopped onto prickly grass. He now began to work my tights off. I subtly shifted my legs back and forth, and it made his task difficult. When he realized what I was doing, he hit me again. I momentarily blacked out. When I opened my eyes, I was naked from the waist down. Jeremy had used the legs of my tights to tie my arms behind my head and to a tree. His own pants were down and he was just inches away from violating me.

“Father forgive him,” I said calmly, although my head was buzzing from pain and fuzzy of vision. “For he knows not what he is doing.”

In the dim light of twilight, I saw Jeremy go completely still. Then in my peripheral vision, I saw a light come on in the sanctuary. I screamed as loud as I could. Jeremy called me a female dog again and punched me in the stomach. Then the back door of the church burst open and Captain Kirk’s thumped in the direction of the creek as his voice called out. Jeremy hiked up his pants and fled.

“I believe you know the rest,” I told the pastor. His pale blue eyes looked at me with such understanding and compassion as a lone tear trickled out of an eye. I loved this old man immensely. So I couldn’t leave out the part that I knew was gonna make him cry. “One more thing, Crunch Berry.”

He chuckled with a deep rumble. I’d only called him Captain Crunch to that point.

“Okay, Coco Puff,” he replied.

We both laughed and I proceeded to tell him. Only as I started to speak, the lighthearted element I tried to bring disappeared. My lower lip quivered as I spoke and my voice became high pitched. “I know I was freaked out and couldn’t speak when you took me to the hospital. But when you said ‘I’m here dear one, you’re gonna be okay,’ words have never been more comforting to me in my life.”

This gallant man of God, who had comforted thousands of hurting people in his lifetime, didn’t make a big deal of it as I wept. He simply took my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then my phone blinged with a new text.

It was Branch, he said he was sorry about Jeremy and wanted to know if he could see me. I said okay. He texted back when and where? I knew the pastor would wig out if he knew the text I returned. My dad and Brock would strangle me. But I needed to know I could trust him. Because I think I did in fact love him. Plus like the old saying. If you fall off a horse, you need to get right back in the saddle. Stupid thinking, I know. But I texted back, and I instructed him to meet me at the site of my worst nightmare.

‘Cotton Creek by the pines in a half hour’.   

XXXI

I was overwhelmingly distraught, and with my eyes clouded with tears, I couldn’t find my car in the hospital parking lot. I was there to see Sevenia Sallie, but I had been turned away. Whether due to the Covid 19 pandemic, or because I wasn’t family, I didn’t know.

A half hour earlier I had been called by a well-meaning church member to be a part of a prayer chain. A prayer chain being calls going out to the church family to pray for somebody in need. I was shocked when the caller informed me that the prayers were for Sevenia Sallie. She supposedly had been beaten and raped by a male acquaintance, and her life hung in the balance.

I had fallen to my knees. Not for prayer at first, but because my legs gave out. It couldn’t be true! Sevenia violently raped by one of the two young men she was close friends with? Which one and why? It had to be that big burly redneck, Branch. He was too quiet and brooding for my taste. Plus, a week earlier Sevenia had told me he had given her an ultimatum. He said he was in love with her and didn’t want to be friends anymore unless she felt the same.

Besides, it couldn’t be Jeremy, could it? He was just a skinny computer geek. I would probably pick Sevenia if the two were to box. Well, no, she was too frail and pale, not to mention the sweetest, most gentle person I have ever met. Destiny or me could take him though, I mean, if we had to.

It had been two years since Sevenia and I had met for the first time. During that initial encounter, I simply thought she was a friend of my sister. I didn’t know at the time that God was giving me a precious gift by placing her in my life. I could confide things to her like nobody else, even my sister.

Maybe it’s because we aren’t related. Maybe it’s because I hadn’t betrayed her, like I did my sister before my conversion. Maybe it’s because some people saw her as a prophetess, even a saint. Not that she went around predicting the future, although she did have a great grasp on Bible prophesy. But she always seemed to have a word in season for those that were hurting or struggling. Just like the day we were introduced, and I proceeded to introduce her to drama.

It had been a month or so since I had been delivered from demon possession. I not only had been exercised from demonic bondage, I became a serious convert to Christianity. This conversion caused a problem with my boyfriend, in whom I also cohabitated. The main difficulty stemmed from not only declining to share a bed with him, but also refusing sexual intimacy. He chose to move to the basement before he looked for his own place.

My boyfriend also happened to be my sister’s brother-in-law. In other words my sister’s husband was my boyfriend’s brother. So during that first visit with Sevenia and my sister Amy, I let it be known that my newfound faith was causing a rift with my boyfriend. This info got my feisty red haired sister in a playful snit and she called Devin up from his man cave.

I don’t how much was serious and how much was in jest, but she began to imply to Devin that he should marry me. Devin not only took it in stride, and for the first time in weeks, I saw him smile. Albeit sarcastic, it was nonetheless a smile.

“As volatile as Lexi has been,” he now laughed. “Give me one good reason why I should marry her.”

“I’m pregnant,” I heard myself say. Everyone looked at me with stunned expressions. Devin’s gaze quickly turned to malice as he slowly walked toward me.

“Is that right?” he drawled as he got right up in my grill. His face was only inches from mine. I could smell this sickly sweet scent of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and body odor. As repulsed as I was, I ironically  started to feel aroused. I hadn’t been this close to the only man that ever said he loved me since my conversion. “It seems I heard that one before.”

“This is different,” I replied meekly.

“Oh really?” he said with hands on hips as he thankfully took a step back from me. “So, now you’re pregnant with an angel, and the baby you aborted was a little devil. Is that the situation?”

I felt my mouth drop open, and my eyes well with tears.

“That’s right,” he nodded. “I know you didn’t miscarry. You killed our first baby.”

What he said was true. Several months previous, I had gotten an abortion and told I him I had miscarried. At the time I had felt justified because I felt I was, at a minimum, going crazy. At the time I was so callous that I felt relieved, even happy, to be freed from prospective motherhood. Then when I was delivered from demon possession, I felt the guilt surface. I once again justified that was then and this is now. I asked for forgiveness and tried to move away from my secret. But my secret hadn’t moved away from me.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked. Devin actually had a look of pity in his countenance. But then he shook his head and took another step back. I felt so horrible, so vile and guilty, so dirty. I began to sob as I fell to my knees and cover my shame filled face with my hands. I heard a door slam, but I didn’t look up. I knew it was Devin leaving.

“It’s okay,” Amy whispered before she kissed my temple and wrapped her skinny, long arms around me.

“No, it’s not,” I squeaked. “He’s right. I murdered my own baby. Now this poor little creature from God that’s inside me will… will…”

I began to cry so violently, I collapsed into my sister and we toppled over. She held on even tighter and we just lay on the floor until my sobs subsided into hiccups. It was as if I had spiritually vomited and now the hiccups were the dry heaves. I had come to my senses enough that I realized what a spectacle this must be to the fifteen year old girl looking on. I felt embarrassed and apologized.

“It’s okay, Sweetie,” my sister told me as she took my hand and led me to the sofa. She sat next to me and continued to hold my hand.

“No apology is necessary, Lexi,” Sevenia said, stepping toward me as she wiped tears from her cheeks. She knelt in front of me and took hold of my other hand. Her large tear rimmed eyes were so filled with love and compassion, I almost started crying again. Instead I hiccupped, and Sevenia giggled. This caused my sister and me to laugh briefly. Then the emotional pain quickly returned, and Sevenia was about to show me why this rare young person is referred to as an old soul.

“Lexi,” Sevenia began, “1 John chapter 1 and verse 9 tells us that if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. You’ve confessed your sins, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” I replied meekly.

Sevenia gave me a big, bright smile. “Then He’s cleansed you also! But if you still feel dirty, look at the first verse in the next chapter. It tells us that if anyone sins, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. Isn’t that cool? It’s like Jesus is our lawyer, defending us from the powers of darkness!”

“But what if you are so dirty, you never seem to get out of the shower?” I inquired.

“Lexi,” Sevenia continued, giving my hand a little squeeze. “When Satan points to your dirt, repeat the promise of Jesus. ‘Whoever comes to me, I will in no wise cast out.’ (John 6:37) You see, tell the enemy that the blood of Jesus cleanses from all sin. Make the prayer of the Psalmist your own. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.” (Psalm 51:7). Make a habit of claiming these promises for yourself Lexi. They’re God’s gift to you, to us all!”

Was this wise counselor really only fifteen? The three of us continued to converse for another hour or so, but that was the only part I remember verbatim. Over the next couple years, Sevenia became my go to person when I was struggling spiritually, or just needed a friend. She was never judgmental, or made feel ashamed, no matter what I told her. If I cried, tears always leaked from her own eyes.

So now, two years later when all I knew was Sevenia had been the victim of a sexual assault and might even die, I was way beyond upset. I walked around in a daze, only half looking for my car when I heard a familiar voice call out to me.

“Lexi?” Destiny Knight-Storm petitioned. “Is that you, Lex?”

My blurred vision caught a glimpse of long honey blonde hair. I blinked rapidly a few times and Destiny came into focus. Like a lost little girl, I began to cry again as I ran to her. In my despair I forgot about social distancing and hugged her. She didn’t reprimand me, or push me away, she hugged me back. “How is she? What happened?”

“I don’t know for sure, Lex,” She replied quietly. “I wasn’t allowed in. All I know is she and one of her guy friends were talking behind Cotton Creek Cove fellowship, down by the creek. He apparently  tore off her skirt and under garments. She screamed, and thankfully Captain Kirk had stopped by the parish to pick something up. He found Sevenia unconscious. But she came to when he tapped her cheek and spoke to her. He said she was so traumatized she couldn’t or wouldn’t speak. She just shivered uncontrollably. That’s pretty much all I know at this point.”

“The prayer chain made it sound like her life hung in the balance,” I said. “So she’s not going to die then?”

“No,” Dee said confidently as she shook her head.

“Thank God!” I said as relief flooded through me.

“Yes, amen!” Destiny added.

“Was she, um…” I couldn’t say it.

“Violated?”

I nodded.

“I don’t know for sure,” Destiny said and then bit her lower lip with an ugly look of anguish on her pretty face. “But like I said, she was very traumatized, and… she was exposed.”

I felt sick. Pure, wholesome Sevenia. A girl who had never kissed a guy on the lips, possibly lost her virginity in such a vile, despicable manner. Part of what made me feel nauseous was my own shame. Almost four years earlier, I played a role in my own virginal sister almost being gang raped by four men. But at this point in my Christian experience, I knew I was forgiven. By God and my sister. I was a new creature. Christ now lived in me and Sexy Lexy was dead and gone.

“Seven, how is she?” Destiny asked, a split second after her phone chirped. “Uh huh… uh huh. Okay, see you in a bit. What? Oh, we’re in the parking lot just west of the E.R.”

Destiny turned to me. “Sevenia’s being released.”

“Fantastic!” I said as I felt such a heavy burden lifted, I thought I might float. Yet the situation was still ugly. “So Dee, who attacked her, Branch?”

“I assume so,” she said with a shrug. “It had to be him or Jeremy, and until this pandemic struck, Jeremy had been off at college. Also Branch recently professed his supposed love for her, which has thus  far been unrequited.”

Sevenia and her dad walked hand in hand out of the hospital. As they approached, my stomach dropped. Sevenia’s eyes, which always seemed to be twinkling with joy, light and love, were so changed. One eye was swollen shut, while the other eye looked sad and despondent. Yet that brave, faithful girl forced a smile and waved at Destiny and me.