HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART2 – CHAPTER 11

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 11

DREW

TASTE AND SEE THAT THE LORD IS GOOD; BLESSED IS THE ONE WHO TAKES REFUGE IN HIM (Psalm 34:8)

            “On second thought, maybe you should stay awhile longer,” I heard Nancy say with a  sultry tone.

            “Maybe you’re right,” my brother replied cooly.

            Then I heard more shuffling and low moans. What was going on? Was Nancy making out with Jerry? What happened to her fear of intimacy? What about her and me?

            “What about Drew?” Jerry asked.

            “Like I said, as much as I love and admire him, we’re no good for each other. Last night proved it. I had never admired and respected him more. But it also convinced me that I could never be the woman he needs.”

            “But thinking I was Drew, you asked me to kiss you.”

            “Yes I did. Who knows or understands the human heart?”

            “It’s deceitful above all things and desperately wicked.” (Jeremiah 17:9)

            “Now you sound like Drew,” she giggled.

            “Speaking of sound, I wouldn’t have kissed you if I knew that you thought I was Drew.”

            “That was, indeed, bizarre.”

            “You should have seen the look on your face when you realized I wasn’t Drew and turned on the lamp. What gave it away?”

            “When you started to get handsy. Drew made it clear he believes in waiting until marriage for sex. You obviously don’t.”

            “No, I admit I am not a saint like Drew.”

            “How come you don’t believe like he does? You come from the same family.”

            “I just don’t buy into all that primitive Godliness stuff my family’s church sells. There’s a reason it’s called primitive. By the way, you said you want the peace Drew seems to have. After what you witnessed tonight, that doesn’t motivate you?”

            “It’s not that simple. I just believe we do the best we can, and apparently Drew’s better at it than most of us.”

            There was a moment of silence, then Jerry said, “Look, I should go.”

            “I know you should, but please don’t go.”

            “Nancy, put that back on!”

            “Why, am I not beautiful enough for you?”

            “No, you’re surprisingly stunning!”

            More giggles from the least giggly girl I ever knew. “Why is it surprising?”

            “Because you’re like, you know, a feminine guy.”

            More giggles. “You sure know how to flatter a girl. Now let’s get you out of your clothes.”

            “Nancy, we can’t betray Drew.”

            “How are we betraying him? Am I his girlfriend?”

            “I don’t know, are you?”

            “Well, I’m a girl, and we’re friends, but I don’t really think I’m his girlfriend.” Giggles.

            “You don’t really think? What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “I don’t know. I guess we got this strange attraction, but then there’s this other side that makes our chemistry like oil and water.”

            “We shouldn’t do this.”

            “Then why aren’t you stopping me?” More giggles.

            I could hear clothes shuffling, the smacking of mouths together, then the springs in the mattress creaking.

            Then Nancy saying, “Jerry, I changed my mind.”

            “What!”

            “This is no good, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

            “You have got to be kidding!”

            “No I’m not!”

            “Well I’m sorry, you took me too far to stop now.”

            “Jerry, stop!”

            “This is your fault. You should have stopped this before we shed our clothes, let alone climbed into bed.”

            “Jerry, no, please!”

            I raised my fist to pound on the door. Then something surreal happened. Nancy’s warm breath was on my ear as she shook my shoulder. “Drew.”

            I bolted upright in my bed. With a full moon’s light streaming through my window, I made out Nancy’s shadowy silhouette. Apparently I had been dreaming! Actually having a nightmare is more accurate!

            “Are you okay?” Nancy asked.

            “Um, yeah,” I managed.

            “You were making an awful groaning and moaning sound.”

            My mind was still hazy from sleep and reeling from a very real seeming dream. “Is Jerry here?”

            “Your brother?”

            “Yeah, was he in your room?”

            “No, I thought you said he was camping.”

            Have you ever awoken from a bad dream, and then the realization that it hadn’t been real washes relief over you? The shower of relief I felt in that moment was so wonderful. “Thanks for waking me, Nancy.”

            “Drew, were you having a bad dream?”

            “Indeed I was.”

            “What about?”

            I felt a little embarrassed. I did not want to tell her I was nocturnally imagining she was getting it on with my brother. “You don’t want to know.”

            “Actually I do,” the feisty Nancy I had known so well throughout our lives so well demanded.

            I turned on my bedside lamp and literally gulped. She was wearing a tiny nightgown that was too small, old and rather worn. It was pink and had Tweety Bird on the front. It was to the point of becoming tattered and see through. And I’m embarrassed to report that I saw through. I’m ashamed to say I couldn’t get myself to look away, until Nancy noticed my eye bugging out.

            “Oh!” Nancy gasped as she witnessed my astonishment. I felt her leave the edge of my bed and dash to the door. I thought she was about to leave, but she grabbed my robe that hung on a hook behind my door and put it on. She cinching it tight and then sat at my desk’s chair. “Drew, I’m so sorry! After the stress of last night I put on my oldest and most comfy nighty. I wasn’t thinking when I came up here without my robe. My mind has been churning ever since we went to bed hours ago.”

            “No need to apologize,” I said and tried to give her a reassuring smile but ruined it by saying, “I just wasn’t expecting to see you with more birthday suit than bed clothes.”

            She blushed, groaned and flanked her eyes with both hands in an effort to hide her face. Hoping to change the subject I said, “Why did you come up here?”

            She looked at me, her embarrassment disappearing. “I couldn’t sleep, and it sounded like you were moving around. So I thought I’d ask you a few questions about the things cycling through my brain… Sorry to wake you, but you were making awful groans in your sleep.”

            “No, no, like I said, I’m glad you came and also glad you rescued me from my nightmare.”

            “Me rescuing you, that’s a first,” she said, with a look of fondness in her eyes. “So, you were gonna tell me about your bad dream.”

            “Not much to tell. Probably the events from last night interfered with both of our sleep. I was just dreaming some guy was in your room. You two were fooling around, and then you wanted him to stop, and he wouldn’t. I was gonna make him stop when you, well, stopped me from dreaming.”

            “Would this guy in your dream be Jerry?”

            “How’d you know?”

            “When you first woke up you asked if he was here.”

            “Oh yeah, you’re right… Now your turn. What’s on your mind?”

            She chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds as she studied me. Then she arose and sat on the edge of my bed. Although covered with bedsheets, I now became aware of my own state of undress. I was wearing briefs and nothing else. “Nancy, will you look toward the west wall? I want to throw a shirt and sweats on.”

            She did as I asked, and I slunk out of bed and for some reason tiptoed to my dresser. I yanked a t-shirt over my head. Then I put one leg and then another in a pair of sweatpants. I turned back toward Nancy and was pulling them up my legs only to discover her staring at me.

            “Nancy! I asked you to look away.”

            She shrugged, aimed a coy smile at me. “You didn’t say for how long. Besides, I guess this is how two chaste people accidently play show me yours and I’ll show you mine. Now we’re even.”

            “How embarrassing!”

            “How do you think I felt?”

            “Feel better now?”

            “Forgive me but I do in fact feel better now,” she said with a satisfied grin.

            “Okay, now tell me what’s on your mind.”

            “Well, as you know, I’ve been reading the Bible. I’ve especially been thinking about the life of Jesus. I’ve even researched Him historically. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Jesus is a historical figure. He was God in human flesh. Wasn’t it Phillip who said show us the Father?”

            “Yes.”

            “And Jesus said that if you’ve seen Me, you’ve seen the Father. Anyway, the thing I can’t get passed is you telling me that I’m a virgin in God’s eyes.”

            “You don’t believe me?”

            “I do and I don’t,” she told me, her eyes welling with tears.

            “Have you come to believe the Bible is the inspired Word of God?”

            “I have.”

            “Then I want to share a special passage with you,” I said, reaching for the Bible on my nightstand. I turned to 2 Corinthians and found chapter 5 and verse 17. “Therefore if anyone is in Christ he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold all things have become new.”

            Nancy took the Bible from my hands and reread the text as if in awe. Then she read from verse 19. “God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself.”

            I reached over and flipped to John 6:63. “Listen to the words of Jesus. ‘It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh profits nothing. The words that I speak to you are spirit, and they are life.’”

            “I want that life,” she said eagerly.

            “It’s yours for the asking,” I told her. I showed her several verses to back that up. In particular Luke 11:9-13.

            “Drew,” she said with a small, vulnerable voice. “My fear of intimacy has been my biggest obstacle with you and me being, you know, romantic. I also know that your biggest obstacle with me has been me not sharing your faith. I just want you to know, I now share your faith, although it’s all so new, and I would like to be baptized… And one more thing. I know for sure that you are the one person on this planet that I no longer fear to be intimate with.”

            “Does that mean you feel like you’re stuck with me?”

            “Hardly,” she replied and then actually giggled! Then her face grew serious, and her eyes grew misty. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

            “Well then I’ll spend my life trying to find out.”

            I couldn’t believe it, more giggles! Then something else unusual for Nancy. She looked bashful, her face colored, and she pressed her hands between her knees. “Does that mean…?”

            It occurred to me that we knew each other pretty well. So all I had to do is say “It does.”

            She gave me a quick chaste kiss, and we continued conversing until the sun began to come up. When we suddenly noticed light coming through the blinds, Nancy arose with a start. “I better get back to my room before someone gets up. We wouldn’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

            “Don’t worry, my dad was a musician most of his adult life. My parents aren’t early risers,” I spoke the famous last words.

            Nancy stopped at my door and made a hand motion for me to turn away before she removed my robe. I heard the door open and shut. About ten seconds after she left, I arose to go use the bathroom. But as I reached for the door handle, it popped open, and Nancy flew in. Her eyes looked like they were gonna pop out of their sockets, and she held her hand over her mouth, muffling something like a scream.

            “Nancy, calm down! What’s wrong?”

            “You’re mom was up making coffee!”

            “She was? Did she see you?”

            “Yes!”

            “You’re sure?”

            “Positive! She looked right at me and what little is covering me.”

            There was a gentle rap on my door. Then my mother spoke with an eerily calm voice. “Drew, Honey, may I speak with you?”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 10

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 10

NANCY

LOOKING STEADFASTLY AT HIM, SAW HIS FACE AS THE FACE OF AN ANGEL (Acts 6:15)

            “Addie!” Nancy barked as her heart felt like it would pound right out of her chest. “What do you think you are doing?”

            Addie had a gun pointed at Drew’s head and demanded that he renounce his faith. He refused. She touched the pistol to his forehead. “I’m not telling you again.”

            “Then I’ll say this, because I will never betray my Lord. Father forgive her for what she is about to do.”

            Nancy’s mouth fell open in disbelief. She was about to come out of her skin with adrenaline. Yet the person with a gun held to his head looked as tranquil as someone watching a beautiful sunset while he sat on his porch sipping Yogi brand Relaxed Mind herbal tea.

            Addie emitted a half screech, half groan as she dropped to her knees, clutching her head. Her gun clattered next to her and Drew casually picked it up. It was an old twenty two revolver. As Addie’s body shook with sobs, Nancy marched to the kitchen table with clenched jaw and retrieved her phone.

            “Wait, Nancy,” Drew petitioned. “Don’t call the police, it’s not loaded.”

            Once again Nancy’s mouth gaped open in disbelief. But this time her eyebrows furrowed in anger rather than arched in amazement. “She had a gun pointed at your head, Andrew Arlo Aldo… And made threats!”

            “Like I said, it wasn’t loaded,” Drew said with a little smile at her using his entire legal name.

            “That’s beside the point! Nobody can go about with a gun making threats without facing consequences.”

            “Go ahead, call the police,” Addie choked as she rolled onto her back and put an arm over her eyes. Her tone was part hostile and part desperation. “My life is over anyway.”

            “I can’t believe what you just did!” Nancy said with gritted teeth, her thumb hovering over the send button. “Tell me why, Addie, why?”

            “You know why,” Addie replied as she sat up and hugged her knees. Her face was red, her cheeks were wet with tears, her upper lip was wet with snot, and her chin was wet with saliva. “I love you.”

            “I love you too,” Nancy told her with surprising gentleness. “But not in the way you want me to.”

            “Why did you lead me on then?” Addie asked with a pleading voice.

            “I didn’t mean to. Both times when we started to take things further, I told you I just wasn’t comfortable.”

            Further from what, I wondered. Then felt my toes curl as I felt like I was eves dropping on a very personal dispute. But how could I leave until this gun issue was resolved?

            “Yeah, so I give you plenty of space and time, and you reward me by doing the tongue tango with your friend Diego.” Addie did air quotes when saying ‘your friend.’ “Do you know how much that hurt? Not only knowing about it, but walking in on it?”

            “I told you I had too much to drink, just like when you and I…” Nancy eyed me guiltily. “Look, I’m sorry I hurt you. But if that’s why you pointed the gun at Drew’s head, I’m the one you should have done it to instead.”

            “He’s the one filling your head with all of the Bible nonsense,” Addie said angrily, pointing a finger at me this time instead of a gun. “He’s the one making you all lovesick, when I had you first. I thought he was a fake, Mr. Holier than Thou, and I needed to prove it to you.”

            Nancy eyed me guiltily again, only this time a blush was added. Despite her embarrassment, she spoke with surprising tenderness. “Drew’s no fake, he’s the real deal. I guess you did prove that to me.”

            “You seem to be right,” Addie responded, glancing at me with an embarrassed look. “I’m sorry, Drew. I’ve never felt like a bigger fool in my entire life.”

            “When I said Father forgive you, I meant it,” I reassured her.

            “You asked your… God to forgive me, but do you?”

            “Absolutely,” I replied, handing her a tissue for her soggy face.

            She raised it up as if in display, I guess suggesting, ‘look he’s even handing me a tissue.’ She began to whimper as she put it to use. Nancy took a step toward her as if to provide comfort. But she stopped, pursed her lips, and crossed her arms.

            Nancy agreed to not call the authorities. Addie apologized profusely and adamantly insisted that she would never ever do something like that again under any circumstance. It seems she acquired the gun via her mother’s nightstand. She also made sure the chambers were empty and had checked it thrice to be sure.

            Although seeming a little on the reluctant side, Nancy forgave her as well. However, she insisted that she could no longer share living quarters with Addie, effective immediately. Since her mother had moved back to California after Nancy graduated from high school, I invited her to my family’s home.

            My parents lived on a forty acre ranch that had plenty of timber on rolling hills. Thus their five bedroom home was built on a hill. The unique structure’s basement was a bit deeper than your average cellar and walked out onto a sloping back yard. From the front, the home looked like a one story ranch. Whereas from the back it was three stories high.

            Since Mom and Dad already had guests, we had to put up Nancy in a small, but cozy fifth bedroom in the basement. I offered her my bedroom, but she insisted that she wanted to stay tucked away from everybody else. That was my impression, not necessarily hers.

            My bedroom was directly above the room Nancy had retired to. At around two thirty in the morning I awoke and went to the bathroom. Upon settling back into bed, I heard a low murmur of voices coming through the furnace ducts. One voice was deeper than the other. Was I hearing things? My adrenaline spiked a bit, especially with what happened the previous evening. It concerned me that someone might have broken in downstairs.

            I made my way to the basement and checked the sliding glass door. It was locked with no sign of forced entry. I eased over to the bedroom door and heard Nancy talking in low tones to someone. Was she on her phone? What was the deeper voice I heard upstairs? Although too faint to make out the words, it certainly seemed male.

            Standing outside the door, I could hear what Nancy was saying in low tones. “You wouldn’t believe it. Drew had this out of control lunatic pointing a gun at his head, but he just looked so incredibly calm.”

            I heard the deep murmur of a male voice; I was certain this time. Yet I couldn’t make out what he said. Knowing the layout of the room, the head of the bed was right by the door. I envisioned Nancy sitting cross legged and leaning against the head. The other person was obviously sitting in the chair that was against the back wall. That’s why I heard her but couldn’t make out the other person.

            But who could it possibly be? My first thought would have been my brother Jerry, but he was on a weekend camping trip fifty miles away. Could it be a deep voiced female? Was it Addie? Yet Nancy seemed very rattled by her actions; even declaring multiple times on the ride to my parent’s place that she thought she knew Addie.

            “You should have seen his face,” Nancy continued. “It was like, um, well, angelic. It was almost like he wanted to die. I never ever thought of Drew as suicidal, just the opposite. But, like, do you think he could be… Maybe just a little?”

            Low deep murmur.

            “Yeah, your right, it’s his incredibly strong faith.”

            This person knows me! My dad? Uncle Eli? Just to be clear, Eli Alderson isn’t my biological uncle, just my dad’s closest male friend. Although I had many friends, I didn’t think of any being close enough to show up in the middle of the night. Plus most of my friends didn’t like Nancy.

            Low murmur, then Nancy declaring. “I don’t understand my feelings for Drew. I mean I love him so much. And after last night there’s not a person I admire more in the whole world, but you know what’s really weird? When we kissed a couple weeks ago, it was both wonderful, and… Oh, I can’t say.”

            Low murmur, then Nancy actually giggled. She was the least giggly girl I had ever known. “Well, after we kissed for a minute, it was like… It was like… Oh, I don’t know, it was just… Like kissing my brother. But I don’t have a brother so how would I even know?”

            I felt a wave of disappointment. She didn’t like kissing me? Although I didn’t think it felt like kissing my sister, our extended lip lock did seem to lack something. But I had never kissed a girl before, in a romantic sense. Plus it seemed like finding a dead body tainted the experience somehow. Low murmur, another giggle. Nancy giggling? Do we really know anybody? Who was this making her giggle anyway?

            Low murmur.

            More giggles from Nancy. What was going on? “No kissing you was definitely not like kissing my brother.”

            Diego! It had to be Diego! But why would she invite him into my parent’s home?

            Low murmur.

            “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, I’m not sleepy after all that happened last night.”

            Low murmur.

            “I understand. But you don’t need to apologize…. I kind of liked it.”

            Low murmur, more giggles from Nancy. “It wasn’t unpleasant, but what about Drew?”

            Low murmur.

            “You’re right. As much as I admire him and think he’s cute, we’re just not right for each other… But you and me? Come on.”

            I heard shuffling feet. Then the squeak of mattress springs. Shuffling and then the smacking shmucking sound of what? Lips on lips and then some? Then yet more giggling from Nancy. “Maybe you better go.”

            “Maybe you’re right,” my brother Jerry said.

            What!

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 9

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 9

DREW

“THE LORD IS MY PORTION,” SAYS MY SOUL, “THEREFORE I HOPE IN HIM.” (Lamentations 3:24)

            “The man who impregnated my mother,” Nancy began quietly with her hands pressed between her knees as we sat across from each other in the living room of her apartment. She was perched on the edge of a velvety blue chair, while I was in the middle of her sofa.

            I knew she meant her father. It also occurred to me that this was the first time in our decade of knowing each other that she had acknowledged male parentage. Not once had I ever heard her mention a dad or father in reference to herself. This also led me to suspect that she was abused by a father figure in some fashion. What I didn’t suspect were the next words to come out of her mouth.

            “He used me in making pornography,” she told me, barely audible.

            Like an idiot I almost asked her to repeat what she said. But thankfully I stopped myself. “You mean before you and your mom moved to Iowa?”

            She nodded.

            “You were only eight when you moved here.”

            She nodded again, and her breathing became rapid. She pressed her hands so hard between her knees I thought she might crush her fingers.

            “Did your mom know?” I asked gently.

            “Not until… After she found out, that’s when we came here.”

            “Did she have him arrested?”

            “She didn’t know about what he was doing until he was arrested.” Nancy actually gained some composure, arose, and began to slowly pace as she hugged herself. “Give me a minute.”

            My instinct was to rise and take her into my arms. But I got the feeling she would demand to not be touched. “Nancy, I’d like to hug you, but I get the feeling you don’t want to be touched right now.”

            She smiled sadly, her eyes filling with tears. “You mean I’m not too disgusting?”

            “Never!” I insisted, as I stood.

            She took hold of my hand. “So you see, Drew, I lost my virginity when I was only six or seven years old. Besides me not being in harmony with your spiritual beliefs, I’ve been not only horribly defiled… I get afraid of intimacy.”

            “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

            She snorted. “Yeah, I’ve been told that by every therapist I’ve been to. But that never gave me my hymen back.”

            “You’re a virgin in God’s eyes.”

            She snorted again. “That’s doubtful since He watched it happen, since He let it happen.”

            I felt that now wasn’t the time for a discourse on apologetics. It was a time for Nancy to get this heavy burden off of her shoulders. But she had said before that she wanted what I had. By that, whether she knew it or not, it was the peace only God can give.

            “Aren’t you gonna defend Him?” she asked with a bit of bitterness in her tone.

            “I think we both blame two different enemies.”

            She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

            “It’s simple. You blame God, while I blame Satan.”

            “Well, you refer to your God as the Creator, right?”

            “Of course.”

            “Then He’s the one ultimately responsible.”

            I offered up a quick silent prayer that the Holy Spirit would enlighten me with what Nancy needed me to say to her. Then I tried to give a brief explanation about the great controversy between Christ and Satan. I told her about the war in heaven, which I believe was a war of ideologies, not war as we know it as mortals on this fallen planet.

            I asked for her Bible and shared texts of scripture that told of Lucifer’s fall. Lucifer being Satan’s name before he was banished from heaven. I recited portions from Isaiah chapter 14, Ezekiel chapter 28, and Revelation chapter 12 that related to this fall that had a dramatic effect on the world we live in. Then I shared scriptures that suggested Satan has a great deal of power in this fallen world. John 12:31, 14:30, 16:11, and 2 Corinthians 4:4 to name a few.

            Nancy quietly listened. I gave her a minute to absorb what I told her. Then I cautiously asked, “Do you believe Jesus is God?”

            “I tend to believe that,” she replied mechanically. “What to believe about him? That I don’t know.”

            “Can I tell you how he can relate to what you experienced? How he was horribly abused Himself.”

            Her eyes flashed with hot anger, then cooled as she said, “Go ahead.”

            I started by reading Isaiah chapter 53 regarding the prophecies about the coming Messiah. By the time I got to verse seven, her eyes were softening. Then I told her very graphic details  about what happened to Jesus before He even suffered the excruciating pain of crucifixion. His mental anguish in Gethsemane where He sweet blood (Luke 22:44).”

            Her eyes had a look of both pain and wonder. “How come I never knew this when I read the Bible cover to cover? I just came away thinking, especially how God in portrayed in the Old Testament, that God is violent, vengeful, and just lets bad stuff happen.”

            “The way I see it, even now one generation can’t relate to the next. So how can we fathom society and cultures thousands of years ago? I simply trust that God is good, perfect in judgement, and righteous. Also, after studying the loving, compassionate, and sacrificial life of Jesus,  He declared that if you have seen Him, you have seen the Father (John 14:9).”

            I gave her a moment to absorb this. Then I continued to explain why Jesus can relate to victims of abuse. He was spit upon, His beard plucked, and His flesh whipped into a bloody mass of lacerations. All the while having the power to stop it by calling twelve legions of angels. On top this, it was all this instigated by religious leaders.

            I could tell Nancy was finding hope in God. But then the rulers of the darkness of this age showed up. Spiritual hosts of wickedness from heavenly places. I had on the whole armor of God, but would it be enough to cover Nancy as well? (See Ephesians 6:10-20). How much of God’s Word had she absorbed?

            There was a rattle at the door. Nancy looked with a confused countenance. I heard the bolt lock slide, and in came Addison Dressler, Nancy’s roommate.

            “Addie, I told you I had a date… I mean a guest tonight and needed the apartment to myself until at least nine.”

            It was a few minutes after eight, and Addie, as she was typically called, was clearly drunk. She said, “Well, I was thinking, my dear. Your guest needs a little test.”

            After Nancy ended our friendship early in our high school career, she seemed to have replaced me with Addie. She was a big girl, just over six foot, and not fat at all. She had been a superb athlete until a nagging rotator cuff injury diminished her prowess. Although she had been popular, she had the nickname among many of the male population as Amazon Addie.

            She had shiny black hair that was usually pulled back into a ponytail, and intense gray eyes. She was quite pretty and made me think of an angry Courtney Cox from ‘Friends’ fame. After her injury during a basketball game her senior year, her popularity declined. She was no longer wowing spectators in gymnasiums. Couple that with her close friendship with Nancy, still very much a Tomboy, and the rumors ran that they were more than friends. That only escalated when they went to the same college and moved into this apartment together.

            Nancy looked at me with a confused frown, then back at Addie. “What kind of a test?”

            Addie reached behind her back and pulled a gun from the waistband of her jeans. Staring at me as if we were sporting opponents, she pointed the gun at my face. Nancy wasn’t prone to screaming or panicking. So she simply barked. “Addie, what do you think you’re doing!”

            “Shut up and watch!” Then she demanded from me. “Deny your faith, Andrew! Tell Nancy that your God and your Bible are nothing more than myths and superstitions.”

            Although adrenalized, I felt surprisingly calm for having an unstable person aim a gun between my eyes. It was the power of the Holy Spirit, AKA the Comforter. The tune, ‘Stand up, stand up for Jesus’ began to play in my head as I boldly declared, “Never!”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 8

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 8

NANCY

COME NOW, AND LET US REASON TOGETHER SAYS THE LORD (Isaiah 1:18)

            As Nancy looked at herself in the mirror, she felt a panic attack coming on. Was this dinner date with Drew an actual date? Why had she put on a dress? Had Drew ever seen her in a dress? How would he be dressed? In jeans and t-shirt? Or like she’d seen him when he was off to church, in Docker pants with a button up collar?

            Why did she feel so nervous? It was just Drew. The boy she grew up with. The boy who by times felt like a sibling. The boy she solved mysteries with. The boy who had often coaxed her out of her shell, convincing her to play hide and seek, and dodge ball with other kids. The boy who was always so kind and gentle. The boy she saw wipe a tear from his eye when he failed to save a wounded bird.

            But the boy was now a man, and she a woman. Her feelings for him had changed, and she didn’t understand them. They both intrigued and frightened her. The things that happened to her before she and her mother moved from California to Iowa had made her asexual. The things that happened to her made her skin crawl at the thought of physical intimacy.

            However, during her fifteenth year of life, Drew began to draw her out of her shell once again, but in a different way. Only this time he was unwittingly pulling her into feelings of romance. Strangely, it was peppermint gum that brought her to a fork in the road four years earlier.

            She had felt frisky with desire that day as they walked on the nature trail outside of town. Was this what normal girls felt she wondered? She both loved and loathed these feelings in the core of her being.

            Drew had been chewing a piece of peppermint Trident. She had been chewing a piece of grape Hubba Bubba. Her move had been calculated, for she had noticed that he had popped his last piece into his mouth. She said, “I don’t like this grape gum, give me a piece of yours.”

            “This was my last piece,” he replied.

            She noticed the look in his eyes. Even with something as simple as not being able to provide a piece of gum for her disappointed him. Oh how she loved him! But she also despised him for making her feel this way. She wanted to scream ‘kiss me you fool!’ Instead she substituted this desire in a very teenage manner. “Let’s just swap what we’re chewing.”

            “Huh?” he had responded confused. But then a little smile played at his lips when Nancy plucked the gum from her mouth and held it a foot’s length from his face. He mimicked her action, and they stood showing each other their ABC gum.

            “Open wide,” she instructed. She giggled as he obeyed, his action reminding her of a baby bird.

            They both stood chewing their new gum, enthralled that they were doing the equivalent of French kissing without actually touching. Yet, being teenagers, they both acted like it was no big deal. Nancy liked the fact that they were doing something kind of intimate without actually touching. One of her biggest fears was being touched by a boy in an intimate manner. Despite countless hours of psychological therapy, the idea always made her shudder. Until Drew.

            Nancy wiped off the little bit off makeup she had put on. Then she peeled the dress off and put on gray sweats. She also put on a Cedar Rapids Kernels baseball hat backwards. If she didn’t feel like herself, her nerves would never subside. And if they didn’t subside, she wouldn’t have the courage to reveal her secret to Drew.

            Was she really going to? What would he think of her? What had he always thought of her? She knew that he knew that she was odd, but how much did he ponder why? Her hand shook as she retrieved utensils for making dinner. She replaced them in the drawer and decided to order Chinese takeout instead.

            Nancy’s heart raced when she heard Drew knock on her apartment door. Then she relaxed some when she saw his easy, familiar smile. He was dressed in jeans and a light blue Carhardt t-shirt. Was the light blue to set her at ease? Did he remember light blue was her favorite color?

            Their attire signified old friends rather than a first date. This both pleased her and disappointed her. But her main goal wasn’t necessarily romantic, it was to heal. The question was, would she have the courage to confide her deep, dark secret? The only people in Iowa that knew it were her mother, and a few doctors.

            “Come in, Drew. I hope you don’t mind, time got away from me, so I ordered Chinese for dinner.”

            “No, no, I love Chinese.”

            And I love you, she thought. So much so it hurts. So much so it drove her crazy, so she had to drive you away. Now what was I doing these four years later, she wondered. Trying to reel you in once and for all, or driving you away permanently after I reveal how disgusting I am.

            They exchanged small talk throughout the meal. Nancy acknowledged that she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life. She wavered on whether she wanted to go back to college for her sophomore year. Drew talked of his plan to work for his Uncle’s construction company as he “waited on the Lord,” to see if he was being called to full time ministry in some capacity.

            This was the perfect segway to take her in the direction of confession. She told him. “I’ve been reading the Bible quite a bit.”

            “Really!” He replied enthusiastically.

            She realized that for someone like Drew, this could be leading him on. She knew their opposing world views was an obstacle for him. She also knew he hoped to convert her. She shrugged and grinned. “I guess I’m looking for loopholes.”

            He frowned. “What do you mean by loopholes?”

            “Some of us are beyond redemption.”

            “Nobody is beyond redemption.”

            She snorted. “That’s easy for you to say.”

            “Yes it is,” he replied, surprising her with his quick agreement. “Because I’ve read the Word of God.”

            Nancy’s heart pounded as her secret was already upon her lips. She thought it would take a while to work up to it. With a quiver in her voice she began. “I see. Does this Word of God have anything to say about a little girl that… that…”

            Choking back a sob, she pushed away from her kitchen table and walked into the living room, fighting back tears. She wasn’t going to be able to tell him. He came up behind her and put gentle hands on her upper arms. She shuddered and barked, “Don’t touch me!”

            “Sorry,” he said quickly as he took a step back.

            She was breathing as though she had just finished a sprint. She had come to learn something about true believers. Not the majority of professed Christians, who wanted their worldly cake and to eat it too, but the people who you could see Jesus through. Drew’s character had been his witness, and not a set of dogmas.

            She turned, unashamed of her tear steaked face. She gasped when she noticed Drew’s calm face had two trails of tears down his cheeks. She was further surprised when she heard herself say, “I think I’m becoming a believer in Jesus.”

            “Nancy, that’s wonderful!”

            She stepped toward him and dragged her thumb over his tear streaks. “You’ve always claimed that the goodness I’ve seen in you is, how do you say it? Christ in you the hope of glory.”

            “That’s right! Colossians 1:27.”

            For some reason, Nancy now felt the courage to reveal her deep dark secret. But she also suspected that it would be the wedge keeping them from any possibility of romance. Not only because of her own hang ups, but because Drew deserved somebody that wasn’t damaged, even shattered goods. She took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s try this again.”

            “Nancy, you don’t have to do this.”

            “Yes I do,” she said quietly, and forced a smile. “You see… When I…”

            She began to tremble, then shake uncontrollably. Drew felt like someone had electrified his nerves. What had happened to Nancy that the memory of it rattled her this much? She was the strongest, feistiest female he had ever known. With maybe the exception of his own mother.

            She looked him right in the eyes. She smiled when she saw the sympathy and pure love there. “Drew, will you hold me?”

            “Of course,” he replied, and she stepped into his embrace.

            She shook as though they were standing in below zero weather without coats. He offered up a silent prayer. ‘Lord, please comfort this broken girl, and please give me wisdom on how to deal with her, what to say and what to do.’

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 7

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 7

DREW

FOR GOD HAS NOT GIVEN US A SPIRIT OF FEAR, BUT OF POWER AND OF LOVE AND OF A SOUND MIND. (2 Timothy 1:7)

            “I don’t understand,” I told Nancy as we sat across from each other, in a booth, in Bluebird cafe. “Who are you in love with?”

            She had recently begun waitressing there. When I showed up with a young lady who wanted to discuss Biblical doctrine, Nancy waited on our table. Although there was nothing romantic with Callie, my lunch companion, Nancy had apparently become jealous and deposited the glass of water I had requested onto my lap.

            About a week earlier, Nancy and I had shared a rather passionate kiss. But in the aftermath of the lip lock, Nancy had declared the need for time and space. I figured that was code for ‘thanks but no thanks.’ So as I gazed at her in the Bluebird café that afternoon, I uttered my confusion.

            Her head had been hung as if in shame. But after my question, it popped up and she stated heatedly, “You, you idiot!”

            “Oh, I see.”

            “That’s all you have to say?”

            “What do you want me to say?” I asked stupidly.

            “What do I want you to say? I pour my heart out, and you say what do you want me to say?”

            I almost made the mistake of saying you didn’t exactly pour your heart out. You simply explained dropping water onto my lap as love makes you crazy. Instead, I said, “I love you too, Callie.”

            “Callie! I need to get back to work.”

            She arose hastily, and in a panic I grabbed her hand. “Nancy! I love you, Nancy! You said love makes you crazy, well apparently it makes me stupid. Callie was a slip of the tongue.”

            “No doubt you’d like to have a slip of the tongue with her.”

            “Hardly! We met at her sister’s funeral for Pete’s sake! I don’t even really know her.”

            “By the way you two were talking it seems like you’d like to.”

            “To be honest, our spiritual interests line up better than yours and mine.”

            “Don’t be so sure about that.”

            “What’s that mean?”

            “Never mind,” she said, spinning on her heel and walking away.

            “Nancy,” I said, grabbing her hand again.

            “Drew, I need to get back to work.”

            I let go of her hand. “Why do opposites have to attract?”

            She laughed and it made me feel better. “I’d say it’s because the world is cruel. You’d say it’s because life’s a test.”

            “I suppose so.”

            “Well, I better go,” she said, spun around, and almost ran into her boss who was carrying a plate of food in one hand and a beverage in the other. Carol Snow was around sixty and had white snow hair. “Oh sorry, Carol. I was gonna grab a cart and bus tables.”

            “No you’re not,” Carol said with a sassy smile. “You’re gonna sit and eat some lunch with this fine young man. You saved my bacon today doing the work of two. I think I can handle cleaning up three or four tables.”

            “Oh, Carol, that’s okay. Drew was just about to go,” Nancy said, and then looked at me with what seemed to be a frightened expression. Why? “It’ll only take me about ten minutes or so, and then I’ll eat in back like usual.”

            “Nothing doing,” Carol demanded. Then she whispered into Nancy’s ear. Nancy glanced at me again and her frightened countenance only intensified. Then she shyly looked away.

            What was going on? I was intrigued. It was odd to see feisty and spicey Nancy look rattled. I said, “I’m in no hurry.”

            Nancy looked at me yet again. This time she glared, and her lips were pursed. Now that was the Nancy I knew. It also made me consider saying ‘I have to leave after all.’

            We sat at the same booth as Callie and I. Nancy was having some sort big salad with a baked potato. What was it with females and salads?

            “So talk,” she said as she chewed a mouth of leafy greens.

            “How lady like,” I joked.

            She obstinately stuffed more salad into her mouth, and more muffled than before replied, “You’re the one who wanted to stay.”

            “I want us to friends again,” I told her.

            “We never stopped being friends.”

            “You know as well as I do there has been a rift between us.”

            “There was no rift between us, and you know it. I pushed away,” she said so coldly I felt a chill.

            “Why, Nancy?”

            A fork full of salad hung between the plate and her mouth as she gazed out of the window. She spoke so quietly that I almost didn’t hear her. “You scared me as we got older. I had to go back into counseling because of you.”

            I was stunned! Very carefully I asked, “What did I do? I’d never hurt you.”

            “I know, that’s the odd thing. But the truth is, I shouldn’t say you scared me. It’s more accurate to say you made me scared of myself.”

            “Do you mean like self-harm?”

            “Not in the way you probably think. There are two things that disturb me when it comes to you.”

            “Well, it’s always good to hear you disturb people,” I chuckled.

            It was a relief to see her laugh herself in response. “Not what you probably think.”

            “Please enlighten me,” I said gently. “To be honest, your pushing away from our friendship hurt me deeply.”

            She looked horrified. “I’m truly sorry, Drew. It’s just, well, there are things about me you don’t understand.”

            “I want to understand.”

            She smiled sadly, but her gaze held fondness. “How can you understand me when I don’t even understand myself?”

            “How can any of us understand ourselves?”

            “You do!” she said incredulously.

            “I do?”

            “Yes, you do. That’s one of the things that disturbs me about you. But I don’t want you to think that I think that’s bad. It’s just that you always have this calm sense of peace. Ever since we were little. I’ve always been volatile, moody. I know you will tell me it’s because of your God, but for me that’s unattainable.”

            “I have to disagree. It’s very attainable.”

            She gave me a cold blooded killer stare, as intense as I had ever seen from her, and I’d seen plenty. My return gaze was mild. I loved this broken, feisty, damaged girl. I can still remember seeing her for the first time in school, that cute little ginger haired girl. She was a bit disheveled, a lot scared, but had a look of defiance in her eyes that was like a fence around her.

            After I won her over and got to know her, I came to believe that she and her mother had fled from something. Something terrible. Something that left a little girl picking up shattered pieces of an already broken life. Her mother was a big hearted woman, hard working woman. But she often lost herself in a bottle, trying to escape further from what she and her daughter escaped from.

            She snorted a laugh and looked at the table. “You’re something else. You stand up to bullies. You discover a dead body with an eerie calm, and then a few days later her twin sister wants to get together to find out what makes you tick.”

            “Just to be clear, Callie wanted to discuss the Bible and…”

            “Yeah?” Nancy interrupted, and I detected a hint of jealousy. A side of me like that. Proof I wasn’t perfect. “Then why was she gazing more intently at you than the pages you were pointing at?”

            “How were you doing the work of two people and spying on us at the same time?”

            She shrugged with an air of something between cocky and confident. “Talent I guess. What else were you gonna say when I cut you off?”

            “Just that it’s easy to stand up to bullies when my Irish twin is Jerry.”

            My brother was three inches over six feet, compared to my three inches under. His muscular arms were as big as my thighs. It seems he took after our father, the imminent Arlo Aldo, and I more or less took after our mother, Dr. Penny Aldo DMV.

            “Jerry,” she snorted. Nancy always had mixed feelings about my older brother. They were actually in the same class, with me a year behind. Maybe I was biased, but my brother is a good guy and an honorable one. But Nancy had a distaste for macho guys, and although I didn’t like to think of Jerry as macho, he was all man.

            “You never cared for Jerry just because he’s big and an all-around jock.”

            “Guilty as charged,” she shrugged. “But now that I’m older and wiser, I see clearly I was judgmental and unfair.”

            I had to frown. One of the things I heard most from Nancy during the time she was pushing away from me was us so called religionists being judgmental. This was the first time she made such a declaration about herself in my presence. But I didn’t want to go there, so I asked, “So you’re wiser? Hopefully you don’t mean Bud.”

            “Budweiser, funny,” she responded, but didn’t laugh. “I don’t think so, I don’t want to end up like my mom.”

            “I’m sorry, that was in poor taste.”

            “You’re fine,” she said with a reassuring smile. Then her face turned serious. “I need to cut to the chase. I want what you have. That peace, that joy. But I know you’ll credit your God. But I don’t believe there is a God of love. I can’t. I’ll never get past Him not being there when… when…”

            Nancy stopped talking and I noticed her breathing became rapid.

            “When what, Nancy?” She looked around, paranoid. I took her hand and said. “It’s okay, Nancy.”

            Her face calmed. “You have always comforted me, Drew. Just being in your presence. I can’t believe I pushed you away. I also can’t believe a side of me wants to do it again.”

            “Why, Nancy? I’ve always loved you as a dear friend if anything.”

            “I know. And the feelings are mutual. That’s why I need to tell you…”

            She stopped, so I pressed. “Tell me what?”

            “What happened to me before I came to Iowa when I was eight. But not here. Can I cook you dinner tonight?”

            “Sure.”

            She smiled uneasily. “It will maybe make up for you wetting your pants.”

            “I didn’t wet my pants, you did.”

            She gave a little laugh before her face grew solemn. “I just hope when I reopen what I try to keep securely locked, I don’t wet mine for real.”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 6

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 6

DREW

I REMEMBER YOUR NAME IN THE NIGHT, OH LORD, AND I KEEP YOUR LAW   (Psalm 119:55)

            I jerked my hand out of Callie’s hand as if it were hot. I stood up, clearly rattled. “Nancy! What are you doing here?”

            “I give up,” she replied sarcastically as she handed Callie a menu, and then gave me one.

            I sat down, mouth agape, eyeing Nancy cautiously. Although she smiled, her return stare was with daggers. Callie proved to be quite perceptive, as she smiled sweetly. “You must be the lucky girl Drew is seeing.”

            “Well, I don’t know how lucky I am,” Nancy replied, then gave me a glance of stink eye.

            “I myself am sort of seeing someone,” Callie informed Nancy meekly. “Drew and I are just meeting for lunch because I had some questions concerning Biblical doctrine. By the way, I saw you at my sister’s funeral. I never had a chance to thank you for helping to catch the guy who did her in.”

            As if a switch had been flipped on Nancy’s countenance, she suddenly looked sad and sympathetic rather than menacing. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your loss.”

            “Thank you,” Callie replied with a sad smile, as her eyes became watery.

            Nancy wasn’t good with emotional things and began to stammer. “Well, let me know if you need anything else.”

            Callie glanced uncertainly at me and then back to Nancy. “You mean besides menus?”

            Nancy shook her head. “I’m sorry. What would you guys like to drink?”

            “Lemonade, please,” Callie said.

            “I’ll just have water.”

            “Hmm, big spender,” Nancy muttered.

            A minute later, Nancy returned with our beverages. A large lemonade for Callie, and a small glass of water for me. Which I was grateful for the size, because before I knew what was happening, it was on my lap. Nancy gave a fake look of astonishment. “Oh my! I’m so sorry!”

            “It’s alright,” I replied, and then wondered if I had just lied as I dashed to the bathroom.

            I knew they had an air hand drier in there, and I figured it would take care of my wet crotch in a couple minutes. But I figured wrong. A piece of paper tapped to it declared that it was out of order. The paper towels sitting on top of it didn’t absorb nearly as much moisture as the heated air would have.

            As I made my way back to Callie with my tail between my legs and my arms swinging geekily in front of my tan shorts to block the temporary dark stain on most of the front. I noticed a young man in a dark gray suit standing in front of Callie, talking to her. I figured it was a well-wisher, due to her sister’s passing. Once again I figured wrong.

            “Drew,” Callie said my name uneasily. “This is Jason, the guy I told you about. You know, the one I told you I’ve gotten together with a few times. He’s actually a youth pastor at our church. I was telling him about how you and I were getting together to discuss Biblical things, and he’s interested in what you have to say as well. Would you mind if he joined us?”

            “The more the merrier, right?” I said with a forced smile.

            I wondered if youth pastor meant his age. He looked like he was about sixteen. He also reminded me of Opie Taylor from the Andy Griffith Show. The later episodes of course.

            “I can’t stay long. I won’t be eating,” he declared as he sat next to Callie. Then he gave me a pleasant enough smile as he extended his hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Drew?”

            “Likewise,” I replied, and wondered if we both were telling the truth. I was pretty sure he was more interested in putting me in my place, rather than what I had to say.

            “So Callie tells me you go to a Seventh Day Adventist church.”

            “That’s right.”

            “I’ve known a couple of Adventists.”

            “Is that right?”

            “Yeah, I don’t mean to sound judgmental, Drew, but from my understanding of Adventist doctrine, your church puts people under the law. However, we are saved by grace through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.”

            “I couldn’t agree more!”

            “If that’s so, why do you emphasize the Sabbath so much? Especially the Jewish Sabbath?”

            “Well, to answer the first part of your question, Jesus said in John 14:15, if you love Me keep my commandments. In 1 John 2:3, the beloved disciple tells us we know Him if we keep His commandments. In verse four he says, he who says he knows Him and doesn’t keep His commandments is a liar, and the truth isn’t in him. As for the second question of the Seventh Day Sabbath being Jewish, let me ask this question. Were Adam and Eve Jewish?”

            Pastor Jason looked puzzled for second. “Well, no.”

            “When did God establish the Sabbath?”

            “After Creation.”

            “I agree. How many days did Creation take?”

            “Don’t get condescending,” he said cooly.

            I glanced at Callie as she was frowning and glancing at Jason. She asked, “What was condescending about Drew’s question?”

            Jason looked a little startled, then slightly hostile, then he turned hooded eyes on me. “Did you go to seminary?”

            “No.”

            “Well I did, yet you seem to think you can instruct me on the scriptures.”

            “No, I came here to share with Callie the reason for the hope that is in me (1 Peter 3:15). And you wanted to join us.”

            “Fair enough. As I attempt to be a good shepherd of the flock, I want to make sure you don’t brainwash Callie into getting under the bondage of the law.”

            “So… You believe the part of the Bible that God wrote with His own finger is bondage?”

            “Of course not! But you’re forgetting we’re saved by grace. You can’t just focus on the law. Remember, we’re saved by grace through faith.”

            “Paul says in Romans 3:31, do we make void the law through faith? On the contrary, we establish the law. So are you saying the Ten Commandments are actually the ten suggestions?”

            “Of course not! But you’re still missing the point of grace. It means we are not under the law anymore.”

            “So it’s okay to lie, or steal, or participate in idol worship?”

            “Obviously the Commandments are essential, but some aspects are complex. That’s why we need grace.”

            I noticed he didn’t put ten in front of Commandments. So I asked, “You just have a problem with the fourth?”

            “The Sabbath is indeed complex. Jesus said the Sabbath was made for man and not man for the Sabbath. That tells me it’s not as essential as the others.”

            “I don’t think that was what Jesus was implying at all. So let me get this straight. You’re telling me that I can forget the Sabbath, but God tells me to remember it.”

            “You know, your fanatical approach is similar to the Pharisees,” Jason accused me, with his jaw clenched.

            “What exactly about my Sabbath keeping is fanatical? Have you seen me counting steps or refraining from turning on a light?”

            “That’s not the point. The major point is you got the day wrong. We now keep the first day of the week in honor of the resurrection.”

            “I believe the rite of baptism is how we honor the resurrection,” I said. I had my Bible with me, so I slid it toward him. “Can you show me where we are to keep Sunday in honor of the resurrection?”

            He showed me a couple verses about Jesus rising on the first day, as well as the two Marys going to the tomb on the first day of the week. I showed him a couple verses in Acts chapter 16 and 17, where the Apostles were still keeping the Sabbath. He claimed by Sabbath they meant Sunday.

            I politely disagreed and showed him Malachi 3:6, where it says, ‘I am the Lord, I do not change.’

            “You know what? If you want to be under the law, more power to you. But please don’t be proselytizing our church with your legalism.”

            “He’s not proselytizing me,” Callie defended me. “I was the one that asked for this meeting.”

            “Let everyone be persuaded in his own mine, I guess,” Jason said throwing up his hands as he quoted Romans 14:5. “One person esteems one day above another; another esteems every day alike.”

            “I couldn’t agree more,” I concurred. “We all have free will. Just like you mentioned that we’re saved by grace, which I also couldn’t agree more. So I love the Lord because I am saved, therefore I keep His commandments. If I was obeying to be saved, then I have missed the boat, and that would be legalism. The law of the Lord is perfect converting the soul (Psalm 19:7). Do you believe that Jason?”

            “Of course I do!”

            “I believe the law of the Lord is perfect as well, and the Seventh Day Sabbath is right in the center of the Law the Lord wrote with His own finger.”

            Jason looked at his phone and then shot to his feet. “Shoot, I’m late.”

            I arose also and offered my hand. “It was good talking with you, Sir. Maybe we could continue sometime soon.”

            “Yes, yes, that would be good,” he replied, taking my hand with a firm grip.

            “Sorry if I was combative.”

            “No, you were fine. I apologize if I was as well,” he replied with a forced smile, then turned his gaze on Callie. “Callie, how about dinner tonight?”

            She looked hesitant, even startled. But then she smiled and said, “Sure.”

            “Very well, so long,” he said, knocked twice on the table, and walked briskly toward the door.

            “You sure have a fertile mind,” Callie complimented me.

            Nancy appeared at our table. “I’d say he has a fertilized mind. And you know what is often used as fertilizer. Sorry, did I say that?”

            “Yes you did, and thanks for your input, Nancy.”

            “Any time, Drew. By the way, all apologies for taking so long getting your order, we’re shorthanded today. What can I get you guys?”

            We actually hadn’t even looked at the menus, but we both had eaten there before. So I ordered a burrito with French fries, and Callie got something called a super salad.

            “I’m sorry about Jason,” Callie told me with serious eyes, after Nancy walked away. “I promise that wasn’t a set up. He stopped by my house to ask me to dinner tonight, and my sister told him I was here having lunch with you to discuss the Bible.”

            “It’s no problem. Like I said before, we need to be ready to give a defense to everyone who asks us a reason for the hope that is in us (1 Peter 3:15).”

            “You sure did that!” She grinned at me.

            Oh the human condition! I had to stuff down spiritual pride and be truthful. “To be honest Callie, I was pretty intimidated. That was the first time I had been questioned by a man of the cloth from a different denomination. Whatever I said that was right was due to the Holy Spirit. I just hope I didn’t get in the way to much by being, you know, rude or as he suggested, condescending.”

            “You weren’t either. If anything he was rude by horning in on our lunch da… Um, get together.”

            It didn’t go beyond my notice that she almost called our lunch a date. Did that mean anything? “I see you’re having dinner with him tonight.”

            “I told you I was sort of seeing someone. Well, now you know the someone.”

            “Are you gonna keep seeing him?”

            A little smile played at her lips. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Did she think I was jealous? Then she shrugged. “It depends on how tonight goes. I do get the feeling he’s going to try to convince me that you’re in error.”

            “How does that make you feel?”

            “To be honest, I want to see what he has to say without you there giving a wise Biblical answer.”

            As we ate our lunch, I asked how she and her family were doing dealing with their grief over her murdered sister. Maybe it was unwise to bring this up as we ate. Thankfully she didn’t seem to have a problem with my questioning, but she did keep her reply short.

            “To be honest, Channel declared our family to be dead to her more than a year ago. So I was already grieving losing her before I actually lost her.”

            She changed the subject after that, and we spent the rest of our meal getting to know a little more about each other personally. Mostly sharing our testimonies about accepting Christ as our personal Savior. When the check came, Callie and I spent a minute arguing over payment. So I guess it wasn’t a date after all. However, in the end, I did persuade her to let me pay.

            Since we drove separately, Callie left, and I waited for Nancy to collect payment. The bill came to $17.80. I gave her thirty dollars and told her to keep the change.

            She arched an eyebrow. “That’s a pretty healthy tip for a waitress that dropped a glass of water on your lap.”

            “Accidents happen,” I shrugged.

            “It was no accident,” she replied cooly.

            “I see… Why then?”

            Callie and I had arrived on the back side of Bluebird’s lunch rush, so most of the place had cleared out by now. Nancy sat opposite of me. She looked at me blankly. Then with an eerily quiet voice, she said, “I’m sorry about the water on the lap. It’s just, well, love can make a person a little crazy.”

            I didn’t know if I should feel happy or horrified.

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 5

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 5

DREW

HE HEALS THE BROKENHEARTED AND BINDS UP THEIR WOUNDS (Psalm 147:3)

            My heart raced when my shovel scrapped a green tarpaulin. Nancy and I looked at each other wide eyed. I removed more dirt, and we had little doubt that it was a body wrapped and tied within the tarp. I reached down to pull it out of the makeshift grave, but Nancy stopped me.

            “Drew, don’t touch it! Let’s notify the police.”

            An hour later the quiet, so called haunted woods were surrounded with flashing lights with a multitude of voices, a helicopter, and news crews. Nancy did most of the talking when we were questioned by the authorities. Ben Weaver was brought in for questioning, subsequently arrested, and has been incarcerated ever since.

            It was evening by the time we left the police station. Nancy and I had driven there in my pickup truck, so I had to drive her back to Baylor’s Woods to retrieve her car. The whole night had been a blur. But as we pulled up next to Nancy’s car, the events that led to finding the body came back full force.

            She had kissed me. She had thrown her promise ring over her shoulder into the graveyard. We had kissed each other again. Then we had looked for her discarded ring. Then we had discovered Channel Northrup’s body. Then chaos ensued. Now we looked at each other with discombobulated minds.

            Where did we go from here? She didn’t get out of my truck. Was I supposed to kiss her good night right after we solved a murder? Of course kissing was what we were doing moments before our gruesome discovery. But she wasn’t even looking at me. She was staring out the windshield like a zombie. So I said, “What a day, huh?”

            “And night,” she said quietly without looking at me.

            After a long moment of silence, I groped for something to say. “We never did find your ring.”

            “I’ll come look tomorrow,” she replied, still not looking at me.

            “I’ll help you.”

            “You don’t have to.”

            “I don’t mind.”

            “Suit yourself.”

            Well, the question of a goodnight kiss was answered. No way! I was suddenly bone tired. I wished she would just go.

            “I better go,” she suddenly said. And she began to exit my truck.

            “Okay, well, it was good seeing you again. I wish it was under better circumstances.”

            She stopped and gave me a tired smile. “Yeah, it started out so well and then turned into a horror movie.”

            I nodded as I thought, yeah just like our relationship. We were great friends as children, and then as we grew into teenagers, it turned into a nightmare. I said, “You accomplished your purpose though.”

            She smiled sentimentally. “Yes, with your help.”

            I shrugged. “I wouldn’t have stumbled onto to the suspicious grave if you hadn’t thrown your ring.”

            “Yeah, my ring. I hope I find it.”

            I noticed the “I” rather than “we.” So I said, “I hope you find your ring.”

            “Thanks,” she said, her smile was forced, and she patted my knee. “Goodnight.”

            As I watched her get into her own car and start it, I thought of something my brother had said after he and a girlfriend had broken up. ‘Women, you can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them.’

            I wasn’t as handsome as my brother or as well built. I also had a more difficult time with puberty. So whereas he always had numerous females desiring him, and giving him attention, my only experience with the opposite sex was my friendship with Nancy.

            I didn’t see Nancy again until almost a week later. It was at Channel Northrup’s funeral. She was dressed in black slacks and a black turtleneck. Her left ring finger was still unadorned. But her left eye was wearing a dark shade of purple. I sat next to her in the back pew of the church.

            “What happened to your eye?”

            “Diego and I had an argument.”

            “Looks like more than an argument.”

            She shrugged. “I had him charged with assault.”

            “Good for you. So, you didn’t find the ring then.”

            “I didn’t have to. The police called me in the morning. It turned up in their evidence. But Diego didn’t like it when I gave it back to him.”

            “I see,” I replied, hooking my thumbs into my gray Dockers.

            She answered the question in my gaze. “Look, Drew, I guess we discovered a mutual attraction the other day. But I need time. What with my breakup, and, you know, what happened before we found Channel. It was… It was…”

            “Amazing?”

            “Bizarrely so… But also a bad omen.”

            “A bad omen?”

            “I’ve always been torn about you, Drew. He loves me, he loves me not. He’s right for me, he’s wrong for me. I can’t believe I’m kissing Drew. I can’t believe we found a dead body.”

            “I think it’s quite a story to tell.”

            “It doesn’t bother you that two minutes after we kissed for the first time, we found a murder victim?”

            “I’m not superstitious. But technically, we didn’t discover the body until an hour later after we went and got shovels.”

            The service started. At the end, the pastor petitioned us to stand and sing a hymn. As the singing began, Nancy scooted past me and exited the building. A minute later, I glanced out of the window and saw her blue Spark ease onto the road from the church’s parking lot.

            I was a little surprised to learn that Channel came from a conservative Christian home. During questioning at police headquarters, we had come to discover that Channel was a bit of a wild child.  Actually, seeing a few pictures of her before her demise, I should probably take the ‘bit’ away from the ‘wild.’

            I had to keep my jaw from dropping when a young lady who looked exactly like Channel from the pictures I saw approach me. Only instead of a short skirt, low cut top, bleach blonde hair, multiple piercings and stripper like makeup, this version of Channel looked Amish. She had a long, plain black dress, hair somewhere between light brown and sandy blonde, and no makeup. Instead of multiple piercings, her hair was pulled into a bun with multiple bobby pins. Even her large round eyes were gray.

            You might say I had a different taste in females than the average young man. Whereas I could see plenty of guys going gaga over Channel. This young lady, who had to be her sister, extended her hand with her eyes red rimmed. Yet as she forced a smile, displaying a crooked eye tooth that I found endearing, I realized I was holding my breath.

            “Hi, my name is Callie,” she greeted.

            “I’m Drew.”

            “Are you the guy that found Channel?” she asked with a soft voice.

            “Well, me and another person found her.”

            She extended her hand to shake. As I took hold of her hand, it was moist, clammy, and limp. This also appealed to me for some strange reason. It made me want to protect her somehow. She said, “Was it that guy you were sitting with?”

            “Guy? You mean the person in all black with the short strawberry blond hair?”

            “Yes.”

            “That was a gal. And yes it was she and I that, you know…”

            “Oh, sorry, I didn’t get a good look. I had been crying when my other sister pointed you two out. I just wanted to say, thank you, though.”

            “You’re welcome, but more importantly, I’m very sorry for your loss. Psalm 34:18 says the Lord is near those who have a broken heart.”

            “Are you a believer?” she looked at me hopefully.

            “Yes I am.”

            “It was a depressing service, wasn’t it?” She declared and I agreed. But I didn’t want to respond. I waited and she continued, “But Channel did go to a Christless grave, and everybody knew it.”

            I suspected her religion was the fire and brimstone type. And although the minister didn’t directly put Channel in hell, he also hadn’t been optimistic about her salvation.

            Callie began to whimper. “It makes me sick thinking she’s is hell.”

            “Do you believe the Bible?” I asked.

            “Of course I do.”

            “Then I can promise you she’s not in hell.”

            “What do you mean? Jesus himself declares that the ungodly go to everlasting punishment.”

            “Punishment, not punishing. Meaning their fate is permanent, not the torment. Do you believe the Bible teaches that the wicked have eternal life?”

            “Of course not,” she said, and then frowned. Then she looked astonished. “The wages of sin is death.”

            “Right,” I said giving her a reassuring smile, then gave her the fastest Bible study I have ever given in my short life. “The ungodly suffer doom, or destruction, Job 21:30. They will perish, Psalm 37:20. They will burn up, Malachi 4:1. They will be destroyed, Psalm 37:38. They will vanish away, Psalm 37:20. They will be cut off, Psalm 37: 9. And will be slain Psalm 62:3. God will destroy them 145:20. The fire will devour them, Psalm 21:9. Notice that. Devour, not burn eternally.”

            (For a more in-depth study on the topic of hellfire, contact Amazing Facts and ask for the free study guide #11, ‘Is the devil in charge of hell?’)

            “Are you some type of pastor?” she asked with a look of awe. “You seem too young.”

            “No, I just graduated from high school.”

            “Are you going to be?”

            I shrugged. “I’m gonna work construction for my uncle this summer and pray about what God would have me do with my life.”

            “Well, I think you should be, you brought me a ton of comfort just now.”

            “Praise God.”

            “I don’t understand why my church is so adamant about hell. It’s like they want to scare people. I try to focus on Jesus, trusting that I’m saved, and that one day in the great beyond, when God wipes away all tears, that we will be made to understand. For now it just plain hurts.”

            I wanted to ask her what she was doing with her life, but I didn’t know if it would be appropriate in this setting. I also didn’t think the atmosphere right to ask her to get together. Then a couple older ladies came up and hugged her. They began talking, so I quietly slipped away.

            As appealing as I found Callie, and as unsuperstitious as I was, meeting at her sister’s funeral did seem like a strange vibe. Other than praying for her, I put any notion of getting to know her out of my mind. But she called me three days later.

            “Hey, Drew, this is Callie, Channel’s sister,” she began. “I called the police to ask for your number. I told them I wanted to thank you. So I’ll say it again. Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome. And once again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

            “So to be up front and not beat around the bush, I talked to my pastor about the things you told me about hell. I didn’t like his explanation. You quoted nine or ten Bible verses in under a minute. He quoted two in fifteen minutes, and they weren’t nearly as convincing.”

            She paused long enough that I figured she wanted some reply. “Well, thank you, I guess I study quite a bit.”

            “So he told me he knew of you, and thought you went to some seventh day Sabbath church.”

            “I do,” I replied, frowning and wondering how her pastor would know of me.

            “He told me to keep my distance, that you were a legalistic bunch that denies being saved by grace.”

            “False and false,” I replied. “Jesus said if you love me keep my commandments. That’s found in John 14:15. Since I love the Lord, I keep His commandments, including the seventh day Sabbath.”

            “I was wondering if we could get together. I want to run by some of the things he said and see what you have to say for yourself.”

            “Sure, I’d be glad to. Look, it’s almost lunchtime, how about we meet at the Bluebird Café. I’ll buy.”

            There was a pause. “I’m actually kind of seeing someone.”

            “Me too,” I told her, thinking of Nancy and I kissing. “But to truthful, right now she needs a little space.”

            “I just wanted to be clear. My intentions are spiritual, not romantic. We met at my sister’s funeral after all.”

            “Right.”

            Half an hour later, Callie and I met outside of the café. She had her hair pulled back on both sides with clips, and her dishwater blonde hair flowed over her shoulders. She wore a white t-shirt with a green button up sweater. Her long denim skirt went a few inches past her knees, with white Vans on her feet. With what I could see of her legs, I thought they were even more pale than her arms and face. Then I realized she was wearing white tights.

            To the rest of the world, she looked like a plain Jane. Maybe even peculiar. But to me she was a vision of loveliness, even Godliness. A hostess seated us in a booth. I had just begun to ask Callie what she did, but before I could, she took hold of my hand and with a of fondness on her countenance. “I just want thank you for our little talk at my sister’s funeral. I can’t even describe what a comfort it was to me.”

            I was about to reply with something like ‘aw shucks,’ when I noticed a waitress step up to our table in my peripheral vision. I heard her gasp before I saw her face. I said, “Nancy!”

            “Drew!”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 4

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 4

DREW

DELIVER THOSE WHO ARE DRAWN TOWARD DEATH, AND HOLD BACK THOSE STUMBLING TO THE SLAUGHTER (Proverbs 24:11)

            “How do you know Ben was the last to see this girl?” I asked Nancy.

            “Multiple people told the police when they briefly looked into it,” she explained.  “Even her best friend said the last time she saw her was when she was leaving a frat party with Ben.”

            “Her who, what’s this girl’s name?”

            “Channel Northrup, nineteen years old.”

            “If you really think she’s out here, we should get a dog.”

            “That’s a good idea! Does your mom still have dogs?”

            “A couple rug rats. They’re not exactly blood hounds, more like pampered lap dogs.”

            “Let’s look around. We’ll worry about getting a dog out here later.”

            I liked that she said we. Just like old times, Nancy and Drew sleuthing together. Only this time it wasn’t stolen lunch money, and we weren’t exactly kids any more. So we began a sweep of the spooky half of the woods. As we walked ten feet apart, we talked and got caught up on each other’s lives.

            For me there wasn’t much to tell. So I started off with asking the most curious thing about my old, young friend. “Is that an engagement ring on your left hand?”

            She held it out and looked at it briefly before replying, “Promise ring.”

            “Who’s the lucky guy?”

            “What makes you think it’s from a guy?” she asked, glancing at me with a challenging smirk.

            I had tried to explain back when she began to pull away from our friendship, that just because I lived my life by Biblical standards didn’t mean I looked down on people that didn’t. Only God knows the heart, I tried to reiterate that over and over, but to no avail. Only God is the judge, and only He has the ability to know who is following the light that they have.

            I shrugged. “Okay, who’s the lucky girl?”

            “It is from a guy,” she said, looking at it again as if it puzzled her.

            “You must be pretty serious then?”

            Now she made a face as if she bit into something sour. “I don’t know. We were just friends for most of the school year. I’m mostly asexual, so I wanted us to just stay friends. But a few weeks ago we both had been drinking at a party and ended up kissing. Rather passionately, actually. But I still had enough wits about myself to refrain from getting too touchy feely.”

            The irony about Nancy’s and my friendship dissolving was the older we got, the more I fancied her. I had hoped she felt the same, but then she began to pull away. It must have been the asexual thing. Plus we both seemed to want to convert each other to our opposing world views.

            I tried not to feel jealous thinking about her kissing a guy passionately, especially the not getting TOO touchy feely part. Just how much was the TOO? And what did MOSTLY asexual mean anyway? When she continued, it only intensified my battle with the green eyed monster.

            “After I told him I wasn’t comfortable having sex without a commitment, I thought that would get him to back off. Instead he gave me this ring. So I thought, okay, he’s really sweet, really into me, decent enough looking, why not give him what he wants, so I accepted it.”

            I almost threw up in my mouth. The odd thing is I already assumed that she was no longer chaste. For a tomboy, Nancy was rather feminine in tough sort of way, if that makes sense. Plus she was kind of cute, and I liked that she was a jeans and t-shirt type of girl with no frills or gaudy makeup, with her short red gold hair often looking windblown.

            “So, we kind of had an unspoken agreement that this would be the weekend,” she continued, with a strangely pained looking expression on her face, and twirling the ring nervously round and round her finger. She whispered, even though we were very much alone, “That we would, you know, have sex.”

            She opened the door for me to extract some information discreetly. “So you had planned on losing your virginity this weekend, but this missing girl thing came up instead?”

            “Exactly!” She beamed.

            I felt like I had just given the green eyed monster a solid right hook that staggered him. The only girl I ever had a major crush on thus far in my life was still chaste! For the time being anyway. The fantasy was still alive! Yet at the bottom of my heart, I knew I didn’t want to be yoked with someone that wasn’t of faith like mine. Yet there was no young lady in my church that tripped my trigger. So I had been mentally preparing for what the Apostle Paul advised in in 1 Corinthians 7:7-9.

            She stopped walking, so did I. She faced me from ten feet apart, so I faced her. She said, “I thought looking into this mystery was a convenient excuse to postpone, you know, consummating with Diego.”

            A few birds began squabbling in the dank woods about twenty feet away, causing us to look. It was as if the green eyed monster leapt up and charged at me again. She was only postponing sex with her would be Latin lover. But the old green eyed fellow didn’t see a left hook coming.

            “But running into you here,” she said as she stepped toward me with a look of awe in her  emerald eyes. “It seems like a sign.”

            “What kind of sign?” I asked, both hopeful and hesitant.

            Her look of awe turned into consternation. She did a one eighty, walked briskly to fallen log and sat. She continued to turn the ring as if trying to unscrew it from her finger. But apparently in wouldn’t come off. Would that monster not stay down? I slowly walked over and sat a few feet away from her on the log.

            I tried again. “What did you mean by a sign?”

            “You’re the only guy I ever truly desired,” she said quietly.

            “What’d you say?” I asked, not quite sure I heard her right. I thought it might have finally been a knockout blow for the monster. Until she barked, “You heard me!”

            “Well, you’re the only girl I have ever desired,” I told her.

            “Could have fooled me,” she quipped as she stood and walked several paces, then abruptly crossing her arms.

            I walked to her, and wondered what I should do. Rub her back? Hug her? Instead I jammed my hands into my jean pockets, looked at her out of the corners of my eyes, and asked cautiously. “What do you mean by could have fooled you?”

            She smiled sadly at me. Then she gently said, with fondness in her voice, “Remember the last few months we hung out? I wanted you kiss me so badly, but you just wouldn’t take the hint.”

            I frowned. What hint? “The last few months we hung out, you seemed to frequently try to engage us in arguments. I felt like you were pulling away, which you were. So what kind of hint wasn’t I getting?”

            She put a hand on her forehead, covering her eyes as if embarrassed. “Do you not remember swapping gum?”

            “Of course I do, it was the biggest thrill I ever had in our time together!”

            It happened about a half a dozen times, seven to be exact. Nancy would try a new flavor of gum, not like it, and ask me to trade with her. Not out of the pack mind you, but the gum we were currently chewing. Her excuse was not being wasteful.

            Now I was strictly a peppermint Trident man when it came to chew. But I didn’t hesitate to take on a foreign flavor if it meant trading spit with the girl of my dreams.

            She removed her hand from her eyes. “Really! It was?”

            “You bet! As a matter of fact, you’re the only girl I have ever kissed.”

            She giggled. “We never actually kissed. We just swapped gum. Kissing entails contact.”

            “Well, to me it was like kissing.”

            “So how come you never tried for the real thing then?”

            “I wanted to,” I confessed. “Oh did I ever want to. But something always told me to keep my distance… So that gum thing was a hint?”

            “Ya think? Asking to swap with me once would be one thing, Twice a coincidence. But a half dozen times with ABC gum was a major hint. I mean would you swap ABC gum with Jerry even once?”

            She was referring to my brother. “No way!”

            “See, and I asked you a half dozen times!”

            “Actually it was seven to be exact,” I told her with a coy smile.

            She smiled warmly. “Yes, seven. Grape, banana, strawberry, tropical, wintergreen, bubble gum that tasted like cardboard, and spearmint.”

            “I did think it a little odd that you didn’t just buy peppermint Trident since you seemed to like mine. But I enjoyed your sampling of different flavors, and was glad you didn’t.”

            We looked at each other for a long moment. She licked her lips. Did she want me to kiss her now? I remained frozen, not knowing what to do. With wide eyes she asked, “Why did you feel like keeping your distance from me?”

            As a kid you often avoid difficult, emotional stuff. Which I did. But as an adult, for I was a month from eighteen, healthy communication is good for a relationship. Even if it is only as friends. “I always detected something very broken in you, so I treaded carefully.”

            Her eyes welled, and she nodded. “You’re wise beyond your years, and I was a fool. I did have something very traumatic in my life before mom and I moved here.”

            I remember Nancy showing up around the third grade. My first impressions of her were quiet, pensive, sullen, but cute. “Do you want to talk about it?”

            She shook her head emphatically. “No.”

            “Okay,” I smiled.

            She now began to twist that ring so vigorously that I was concerned it would draw blood. “It’s so odd. That last year we hung out. I so badly wanted you to hug me by times, hold my hand, kiss me. Yet just as often I wanted you to keep your distance, hands off. Talk about a walking contradiction. Then I treated you like my psychological hang ups were your fault, or your God’s fault. I’m surprised you put up with me. You should have been the one to tell me to pound sand, not the other way around.”

            She looked hard at me. I couldn’t say anything until she prodded it out of me. “Why?”

            “Because I love you.”

            “You mean loved, as in past tense?”

            “No, love, as in always.”

            “You mean as friends?” she asked and then bit her thumb, gazing at me with anguished eyes.

            “What else?” I shrugged. Then I smiled. “After all, swapping gum isn’t a real kiss.”

            She took several quick steps toward me, placed both hands on the sides of my cheeks and pressed her mouth hard against mine. After five to ten seconds she pulled away and looked puzzled. “You didn’t kiss me back.”

            I took hold of her left hand and lifted it up as if to kiss the back of it. “You’re promised to someone else.”

            After all that twisting, she yanked it off in a second and tossed it behind her shoulder. Our searching of the woods had brought us by the old cemetery. The ring made a tink as it ricocheted off a tombstone. This time I kissed her back.

            After a few minutes, it was getting pretty steamy, so I gently eased away. But Nancy kept her arms hooked around my neck and whispered. “Let’s make love. I want you to be my first.”

            Her first? “I want you to be my only. But only after marriage.”

            She smiled and gave me a soft kiss. “Drew, it’s the twenty first century.”

            “Biblical morality is timeless. Besides, what happened to you being asexual? You want me to be the first of how many?”

            Her arms dropped to her sides, and she shook her head. “First is a figure of speech, and I said mostly asexual. As in you’re an exception.”

            “An exception, or the exception?”

            “Obviously I planned on sleeping with Diego. So how can I say you’re the only exception? But it’s only you two.”

            Those who wrote songs about love hurting sure got it right. Especially when you fall for someone with a different value system. She looked toward the area where she threw her ring. “I better find that ring. I’ll need to give it back to Diego.”

            Oh the yins and yangs of life! First I’m fighting off jealousy over Diego. Then I started panicking over her breaking up with him, seemingly to be with me. Sure I found her attractive, but ultimately I needed to be with someone of like beliefs. Can two walk together, unless they are agreed? (Amos 3:3).

            I helped her scan the cemetery for her ring. We were moving sticks and branches out of the way with our feet, when I noticed something out of the ordinary. At a spot in between two tombstones, the earth beneath the leaf and stick debris was different. It wasn’t quite as hard packed as the rest of the graveyard. And it had been double digit decades since someone had been buried out here. Or had it?

            “Nancy?” I said a little breathlessly.

            “Drew?”

            “Check this out.”

            She observed my observation. Then we both looked at each other, and at the same time said, “Let’s get shovels.”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 3

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 3

DREW ALDO

TO DO EVIL IS LIKE SPORT TO A FOOL, BUT A MAN OF UNDERSTANDING HAS WISDOM (Proverbs 10:23)

            “What, did you come to gloat, Nancy Drew?” Ben Weaver had asked as he glared at me from his side of the prison visitation booth.

            By calling me Nancy Drew, he was also referring to my longtime friend Nancy. It was she and I that discovered the body of the young lady he had murdered. Upon discovery, we notified the authorities, and with solid DNA evidence, Ben was charged with first degree murder, as well as kidnapping and rape.

            In upper elementary school, and then middle school, Nancy and I solved many a mystery. Most involved something like stolen lunch money, gym shoes or missing pets. Given our names, Nancy and Drew, we both got labeled with the moniker of the girl from the young adult detective series written by Carolyn Keene.

            “No, I didn’t come to gloat, Ben,” I told the twenty one year old man who was doing life without parole.

            “Why else would you come?” he glowered.

            I didn’t understand myself, other than I was prompted by the Holy Spirit for some reason I was yet to figure out. So what was I to tell him? To me, Ben Weaver was the epitome of evil. More than half a decade earlier, he had stolen and mutilated one of my mother’s cats in some type of twisted ritual. Nancy and I had enough evidence that we were sure he did it. But not enough to prove his evil deed.

            “To be honest, I don’t know, Ben,” I responded kindly. “The simple answer is, God sent me.”

            Ben often had a crazed, possessed look about his eyes. But now there was fear. “Why would God send you? To tell me I’m doomed to hell? Well, tell your God I’m already in hell!”

            “He knows,” I replied. “Maybe he sent me to tell you it’s not too late.”

            “How could it not be?” Ben choked out a sob. Then he let out a guttural groan as he wacked himself in the side of the head with the phone.

            I winced, thinking that had to hurt. Then a guard stepped up to him. “One three six, knock it off or you’re going back to your cell.”

            “Sorry, sir, I won’t do it again,” Ben told the guard. Then I noticed the number on his orange jump suit was 136.

            He looked at me with pleading in his eyes. “For real, God can forgive me?”

            “For real,” I replied.

            Then, not only did the old Ben appear, the demon or demons that possessed him showed themselves. His eyes became unhuman, he bared his teeth, and the most ghoulish laugh I had ever heard emanated from my phone receiver. By the grace of God I looked him in the eyes and quoted Romans 10:13, “Whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved. Jesus loves…”

            At the name of Jesus, Ben growled and slammed his head into the partition. Two guards grabbed him. It took two more to restrain him. Before he was out of sight and out of sound, he yelled with sinister mirth, “Give Nancy a kiss for me.”

            Nancy and I had had a bit of a falling out by the time we were in high school. At the core of our disunion was my Biblical world view clashing with her secular humanist world view. She began to hang out with people with similar perspectives. She became increasingly hostile toward me due to my beliefs, despite having a bumper sticker that said “coexist.” Although I disagreed with some of her opinions, they didn’t make me feel anger toward her.

            Nancy was a year older than me. So when I was a senior in high school, she was a freshman at the same local college where Ben was a junior. After a coed at her college went missing, Nancy and I became reacquainted when I quite literally ran into her in Baylor’s Woods.

            Baylor’s Woods had over one hundred acres of hills, covered with trees. It was bordered on three sides, like a triangle, with the Cedar River to the southwest, a county park with a campground to the southeast, and a gravel road on the north side. I always had mixed feelings about Baylor’s Woods. About half of the woods were dark and spooky, even when the sun was shining, while the other half was pleasant and beautiful.

            Not only was it bordered on three sides, there were a couple different aspects to the public access forest preserve. There were the bluffs by the river, where visitors to the county park could enjoy a challenging hike and beautiful view. On the north side of the woods was a century old cemetery with dozens of unreadable tombstones.

            This cemetery was a popular spot for people into the paranormal. There had allegedly been numerous sightings of ghostly figures in or around the graveyard, as well as crossing the country road, apparently going to and from an old barn.

            I believe people have indeed seen things. But I also believe it is demonic activity, and not some hauntings of departed humans. Biblically speaking, when you die, you are simply resting in the grave and awaiting the resurrection, like a form of sleep. Ecclesiastes 9:5 is a good example.

            (For an excellent study guide on the state of the dead, with plenty of scripture proofs, you can contact Amazing Facts ministry. Ask for Lesson 10, ‘Are the Dead Really Dead?’ They are well done, illustrated, and are free.)

            The reason the subject of spiritualism is so important, is paranormal activity is only going to increase as we approach the end of time. It is going to play a key role in last day deceptions. Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light. (2 Corinthians 11:14) Also, another excellent example is 1Timothy 4:1, which warns of deceiving spirits and doctrines of demons.

            Even though I understood these truths about spiritism, it still felt a bit creepy on the darker half of Baylor’s Woods. It was on this side where Ben Weaver had a tree fort with some of his chums. This was also the area where Nancy and I found the discarded carcass of my mother’s cat.

            For some reason, I felt compelled to go by the north side of the preserve on my way to the park. This way was almost never used by those using the county park because it dead ended at a condemned bridge over back water. Thus you had to back track a mile and a half to the highway.

            So why was I making my merry way by going out of the way, I didn’t know. But God knew. Imagine my surprise when I saw parked in the tiny dirt parking lot, a baby blue Chevy Spark with a “coexist” bumper sticker adorning the back window. Nancy!

            What would she be doing on the north side of Baylor’s Woods. Who was she with? I parked my blue Ford F150 pickup next to Nancy’s Spark. I got out and made my way toward the area where we found the remains of my mother’s cat more than half a decade ago.

            About fifty yards from Ben’s tree fort was a large sandy pit. It was crater like, and maybe thirty feet across and thirty feet wide. It was ten or fifteen feet deep. After middle school, Ben and company graduated from the undersized tree fort to the sand pit with more room for beer parties.

            My run turned into more of a walk as I approached the sand pit. When I looked down I spotted a hooded figure flipping over beer cans and booze bottles with a long stick. It had to be Nancy, right? Right when I was about to call out, soft sandy soil gave way. I lost my footing and catapulted downward toward the figure.

             The collision wasn’t avoidable. But as our bodies slammed together, I was able to grab her shoulders, spin us, and have her land on top of me instead of the other way around. She let out a blood curdling scream in the process. Her stunned face was inches from mine when the dust settled. Then it relaxed into a relieved smile. “Thank God it’s you!”

            “I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

            I kicked myself for such a flippant remark. It would have been bad enough if we were still hanging out, but I hadn’t even seen her in almost a year. She squinted at me with hostility. “It’s a figure of speech.”

            “God is also a figure of creation and redemption,” I replied with a grin. I had stuck one foot in my mouth so I might as well cram the other one in as well.

            To my pleasant surprise, she smiled. “It’s good to see you, Drew. Glad you dropped in.”

            “Glad to see you, too,” I said and meant it. But then I frowned at the strange place we had crossed paths. “But what are you doing out here?”

            “I could ask the same thing.”

            “I’m looking for you.”

            “You are?” she asked, with raised eyebrows.

            “Yeah, I was on my way to the park when I noticed your car.”

            She studied me for several seconds. Her face seemed even closer, but then she said, “Oh, I suppose I should get off of you.”

            I refrained from telling her she didn’t have to. After scrambling to her feet, she reached out with her left hand to help me up, and I noticed either an engagement or promise ring. I felt a surge of disappointment. Why? Although we had made peace not long after our clash, our days of solving mysteries and hanging out had been over for almost three years.

            I always hated the oedipal theory. But I couldn’t deny that Nancy was a lot like my mom. Petite, fiery, and a tomboy. They both had similar facial features as well. Small nose, lips on the thin side. But unlike my mother’s short black hair, now sprinkled with salt, Nancy’s hair was a red gold. Ironically it was a similar color to the fictional Nancy Drew.

            “It’s creepy out here in the haunted part,” she said, looking around. “Even during the day.”

            “Don’t tell me you believe in haunts.”

            “I believe too many people have witnessed things out here.”

            “What people have witnessed is demonic activity.”

            She rolled her eyes and shook her head. How is it we got along so well as kids? But as we so called matured, things like pondering one’s existence and contemplating the origin of things, complicated our relationship due to our opposing views. Then throw in sexuality as an added complexity. More reasons why Jesus said to become like little children.

            “If you believe it’s haunted,” I asked, “Why are you out here by yourself?”

            “Determination,” she said with chin up. “Besides, it’s daylight. If you believe it’s demons, why are you out here?”

            “I’m protected by the heavenly realm.”

            I expected another eye roll, but she just gazed at me as if pondering the legitimacy of my declaration.

            “What do you mean you’re determined? Determined by what?” I asked.

            “Justice.”

            “Justice for what?”

            “For a troubled girl who went missing, and the authorities said there is nothing more they could do about it other than keep a watch. They’re assuming she just ran off, since she has a history of being a bit of a vagabond.”

            “What makes you think she’s out here?”

            “Because the last person she was spotted with was Ben Weaver.”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 2

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 2

DR. PENNY ALDO DVM

I SAW THAT WISDOM IS BETTER THAN FOLLY, JUST AS LIGHT IS BETTER THAN DARKNESS (Ecclesiastes 2:13)

            I didn’t mean to spy on my eighteen year old daughter. I never intended to invade Ivy’s privacy. But on a camping trip with my husband and our two boys, thirteen year old Jerry and twelve year old Drew, I got a pretty bad headache. A couple pain relievers helped, but they made me long for bed. But not in our camper.

            Maybe I shouldn’t have referred to camping as a trip. A trip sounds far away. We were on a camping outing with three other families from church, and the grounds weren’t even five miles from our house. So I bowed out just as the late July sun was setting, and I drove home to sleep in my own bed.

            Rory and Ivy had intended to go to fireworks with their boyfriends. So when I arrived home at about eight thirty, the house was locked. I slid my key into the doorknob and twisted. I was a little surprised to hear music coming from downstairs. It wasn’t blaring, but it was loud enough that Ivy and her best friend hadn’t heard me.

            Since Rory and my daughter had met three years previous, they had become inseparable. From the time she was five until she was fifteen, Ivy had been best friends with my niece, Crystal. Technically, I was Crystal’s Great Aunt, since she is my sister’s granddaughter.

            Crystal and Ivy had a major disagreement back in 2010. Ivy had been upset that Crystal began to drink socially and began to cross intimacy lines with the boy she had been seeing. Ivy had rebuked her sixteen year old cousin and hence came a falling away. Although they reconciled, their rift had caused a shift in their relationship, and they rarely hung out thereafter.

            I had mixed feelings over the whole ordeal. On one hand I was very disappointed to see the dissolving of a long friendship. On the other hand, I was pleased with Ivy for her moral stand and being courageous enough to voice her concern. But only a few months later, she brought home Rory, and her concerns about her cousin seemed a bit contradictory.

            I was confused. Ivy had chastised Crystal for risky behavior, then befriended a girl that looked multiple times more dangerous than my niece. But over the weeks and months that Ivy and Rory hung out and studied the Bible, Rory began to change.

            True religion is about relationship. Real relationship is about free will. Despite Rory’s wild appearance and sullen demeanor, most of the people in our church, and everybody in our family, accepted Rory just as she was. But it wasn’t long before the hard core rock and roll shirts disappeared as well as her black fingernails. Her dyed black hair grew out to her natural brown, matching her lovely eyes.

            Although Rory was a year older than Ivy, she was in the same grade. With all the moving and changing schools she did being a military daughter, she ended up a year behind.  I’m not gonna say brat, that would be the pot calling the kettle black.

            Over the first two years of their friendship, Rory often attended church with us and was even baptized. Eventually a couple nice young men that were a grade older began to occasionally attend with the young ladies. Before they went off to college, the boys gave the girls promise rings. That’s what made what I saw that fourth of July all the more puzzling.

            During their senior year of high school, Ivy and Rory decided to go to the same college as their boyfriends. They also subtly began to withdraw from church activities that last year of high school. By that summer we were lucky to see them once a month at a service or midweek prayer meeting.

            I followed the music downstairs. Sitting by the sliding glass doors of our walk out basement on a pillow chair was Ivy and Rory. Ivy was six inches taller than Ivy’s five foot four. She was also ten or fifteen pounds heavier than Rory’s one hundred and ten. So Rory being smaller, was leaning back into Ivy.

            I stood dumbfounded as I studied the situation. They were fully clothed, which was a plus. Also, there was only one chair pillow, so this was the best way they could share. Another thing, they had boyfriends, with whom they were supposed to be seeing the fireworks. So where were they and why weren’t they on their way to see the fireworks?

            The stairwell was behind them, and I ever so slowly began to back up. I would reenter and make enough noise for them to hear me. But before I made it back to the stairs, I saw Ivy hook Rory’s shoulder length hair behind ear. Then she gave her ear a little nibble, causing Rory to giggle, slap Ivy’s thigh, and say ‘Stop it, that tickles.’

            My heart was pounding, and my knees felt weak. I slipped on the first step of the carpeted stair, making a thump. At the same time, Rory flipped around, kneeling in front of Ivy. I thought for sure she saw me. But grinning she said, “This is better.”

            Rory closed her eyes and kissed Ivy on the mouth. I retreated as quickly and quietly as I could. Panting slightly at the front door, I opened it, and slammed it back shut. I threw my keys on the kitchen table, making a clatter. I said loudly, “Ivy, are you home?”

            The music from downstairs went silent, and my daughter petitioned me cautiously from the bottom of the stairs, “Mom?”

            “Hi honey, I thought you were going to the fireworks?”

            “Oh, well, we were, but we got into a bit of a disagreement with the guys, and, well, I guess were pouting,” she explained and then emitted a little laugh. “And I thought you were camping?”

            “I got a headache and just wanted to sleep in my own bed.”

            “The bed in your camper is your own bed,” she joked.

            I marveled at how calm she was. Maybe I was making too much out of what I thought I saw. Maybe the girls were just clowning around. Maybe I was in denial. Maybe I just didn’t want to deal with it.

            “True, it is my bed in the camper,” I told her. “But comparing that bed with my at home bed, is like comparing a Lazy boy with a fold up chair.”

            “Your bed in the camper is that bad?” She frowned.

            “No, but it’s not a Sleep Number either… So, what type of disagreement did you have with the boys?”

            She shrugged a shoulder, “They wanted to go to a party instead of fireworks.”

            “So how come you and Rory didn’t want to go to the party?”

            “Truth is, I was the party pooper. Rory was willing to go.”

            “How come you weren’t?”

            “They guys started drinking some since they’ve been in college. I’ve read my birth mom’s diaries, or journals, or whatever you want to call them. It seems adult beverages led to drugs, and drugs led to her taking off her clothes for a living.”

            “You are wise beyond your years,” I said smiling at her, and putting a gentle hand on her cheek. I was beginning to think that I was jumping to conclusions with what I thought I saw with her and Rory.

            “Oh hi, Mrs. Aldo,” Rory said meekly as she appeared in the stair well.

            I had convinced Rory to stop calling me Mrs. Aldo more than two years ago. It was now strange to hear her call me something other than Penny. Being referred to as Mrs. Aldo by her suggested guilt. And the guilty look on her face caused suspicion to resurface.

            “Hello, Aurora,” I replied.

            She frowned, then smirked with paranoia in her eyes. “You haven’t called me Aurora in a long time.”

            “You haven’t called me Mrs. Aldo in a long time.”

            “Oh, well, I just, ah, woke up from a nap.”

            “Did you?” I replied, crossing my arms, and then turned my gaze onto Ivy. I’d never known my daughter to lie. “Were you napping too?”

            She had a stunned look on her face as she stared at Rory. But then she calmly looked at me and said, “I was watching the sunset.”

            I told myself not to press it but asked, “While Rory napped?”

            Now she crossed her arms and frowned. “Mom, what’s the big deal? I just told you we didn’t go to a party because there was drinking. Now you’re giving us the third degree like we stayed here to shoot meth or something.”

            “You’re right, I’m sorry,” I said smiling and touching her arm.  “Forgive me, I’m tired and have a headache. I need to go to bed.”

            She gave me a reassuring smile and then kissed my cheek.

            The following morning, my headache was gone, but with the thermometer mercury rising on another hot day, I refrained from returning to the campground. Early in the afternoon Arlo walked into the house with a disgusted look on his face. He asked, “How’s your headache?”

            “All better.”

            “Good, do you want mine?”

            “Do you have a headache now?”

            “Yes, your son. He pushed Ben Weaver into the lake. His family happened to be camping there too.”

            Ben Weaver was a notorious bully who our son Jerry had clashed with a couple times. One of them leading to a three day school suspension.

            “Why did Drew do that?” I asked with a little smile. Ben Weaver, fifteen, was also the son of a local high school gym teacher and the head football coach.

            “You know better than that, although Drew is definitely not innocent.”

            I had in fact been joking. Our oldest son Jerry was thirteen and rapidly gaining a broad shouldered, muscular build like Arlo. He was also athletic and very coordinated. But he was quick tempered like his mother. He was loyal unto death, and fiercely loved his little brother, whom I suspected had something to do with Ben Weaver going into the drink.

            Our younger son Drew, age twelve, had the even keel demeanor of his father, but was bold in speaking truth. He also had a quick witted tongue and was on the small side physically like me. Eventually he would go on a growth spurt, but would still remain Jerry’s little brother, other than by age.

            “What Father said is true, Mother,” Drew spoke up with a James Bond type elegance. Then he sat on a kitchen chair and crossed one leg over the other. “It was I who instigated the bruhaha.”

            I put a hand over my mouth as if pondering. But I was really hiding a grin.  

            He brushed a strand of sandy blonde hair from his eyes and continued, “We had crossed paths earlier at the outing and he threatened me about staying away from his tree fort in Baylor’s woods. I saw his mom walking up behind him, and I asked why he had all those pictures of nude men hanging on the walls of his fort. He practically shouted that it was nude WOMEN he had hanging on the walls of his fort. His mother found this rather interesting and grabbed him by the ear, guiding him back to their camper to have a talk with his father.”

            “Were you really snooping around his tree fort?” The grin now having left my face.

            “I was.”

            “He did have a good reason, Mom,” Jerry defended. Then Drew defended him. I have to say, my boys were each other’s brother’s keepers.  

            “So a little while ago, Ben found me strolling by the lake,” Drew explained. “I guess he thought I needed a bath, but my dear brother helped me change the fates. He saw Ben moving rapidly in my direction and intercepted.”

            “May I ask why you were snooping around his tree fort to begin with?” I inquired with hands on hips for affect.

            “You know how your cat Buttons has been missing for four or five days,” Jerry said, and then looked at his little brother. Drew said, “I have reason to believe Ben Weaver used Buttons in some type of occult ritual.”

            My hand went to my mouth again. But this time it wasn’t hiding a grin.