ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 4

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

WHY ARE YOU CAST DOWN OH MY SOUL? AND WHY ARE YOU DISQUIETED WITHIN ME? HOPE IN GOD. (Psalm 42:11)

            “Productive moves,” I told Vermillion.

            “I thought so,” he replied confidently.

            “But all things work together for good to those who love God,” I quoted Romans 8:28.

            “The Son of God said if you love me keep my commandments,” Vermillion challenged. “But does Jenny keep God’s commandments?”

            The demonic realm knows scripture better than humans. That’s why they have been so successful in diverting people away from the truths in which the Bible actually teaches. Often through traditions and religion itself.

            He continued, “No, your little angel, pun intended, was on the verge of self-murder. When I get through with her and the people she looks to for support with the tiny urchin in her womb, she will at a minimum execute him. Then the guilt will put her back into a frame of mind to execute herself as well.”

            “We’ll see.”

            “You even admitted I set her up just fine for destruction.”

            “On the contrary, I believe your arrangement will ultimately give her resolve, not despair.”

            He had seemed self-satisfied but now looked dubious. Satan and his demons are experts at reading body language. They also specialize in knowing just what buttons to push for everyone’s particular temptations. But they can’t read the mind. They can’t force a person to sin.

            ‘Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you’ (James 4:7). Verse 8 is key. ‘Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.’

            Righteous angels also can’t read the mind. But we do have an advantage. God, in whom we ultimately take direction from, can. The advantage the dark side has is fallen human nature and the selfish desires that go along with it..

            Vermillion worked to do, not just a double whammy on Jenny Oakley, but a triple whammy. As painful as it was for me to see her in pain, I needed to stand by and allow it. For I knew something Vermillion didn’t.

            As much as she dreaded it, Jenny felt the need to inform the potential fathers. But first she felt the need to inform her mother. Vermillion paved the way for this encounter by giving her mother trouble with Jenny’s two older half siblings.

            Three days earlier, Jenny’s twenty-five year old sister was sentenced to two years in prison after yet another arrest for theft. Two days later her twenty-six year old brother was fired from yet another job. Then only an hour before Jenny’s arrival, he had asked to borrow money to pay his rent. When it rains it pours!

            Jenny’s mother was clearly stressed. So she decided to postpone informing her mother about her dilemma. But her mother knew she had paid her a visit for a serious reason, so she coaxed it out of her youngest child. Her reaction couldn’t have caused Jenny more pain.

            It was one of those situations where a person would rather have a response of anger. With tremendous remorse, her mother began to weep. A pitiful whimper escaped from her lips as she lamented, “Oh, Jenny. You were my one hope.”

            As bad as she felt as she left her mother’s place, Jenny intended to still tell the two potential fathers. She not only wanted to get it over with, she wanted to know what their reactions would be.

            By the time she got to the front door of Devin’s condo, she felt defiant. Normally meek and timid, her mother’s reaction made her, at first sad, then angry. Angry at Devin. Two years of dreaming about a white picket fence and two or three kids shot down. And why? Was she not pretty enough? Was she not smart enough? Was she not witty enough? Was she not charming enough? Was she not driven enough? Was she too clingy and needy?

            There were eight units in Devin’s condo. He was on the bottom floor in the rear corner of the building. Her finger hovered over the intercom button for unit three. She hated the sound of hearing his mechanical ‘yeah?’ coming through the device. She disliked replying ‘it’s me.’ Then without a word of greeting from him, there was the sound of a buzz as if opening the door in a prison.

            She decided to go around to his back patio instead. What did it matter if he didn’t like it and threw a fussy fit? She would just blurt out, I’m pregnant and you’re… Oh my! She stopped and bit her finger nail. You are the father? You might be the father? How should she put it, what with not being certain of the parentage?

            Then she visualized him crossing his arms and giving her that squinty eyed glare of his. Then asking, who else have you been with if she said might. But who cares? Wasn’t he with someone else himself! After all it was he who wooed her back for a half dozen intimate encounters. It was he who strayed not once but twice. But boy, what a mess not knowing exactly who the father was!

            Six foot tall hedges surrounded the ten by ten patio. There was actually a chain link gate blocking the entry. She had always thought that was silly since a burglar could just plow through the hedges, if he was willing to risk a couple scratches that is. She had only seen Devin work the three digit combination a few times, but she had remembered it.

            Once past the gate she took tentative steps toward the sliding glass door. She raised a hand to rap and then froze. She noticed the tops of two heads that appeared to be joined sitting on the sofa. Why hadn’t she considered that he could be with the other woman? Now she was spying on the pair making out on his couch.

            She took a couple steps back as she prepared to slink away. This obviously wasn’t the right time. She tripped over a patio chair, lost her balance and fell onto a second patio chair. She inadvertently shoved the second chair and with a loud bang it slid into the sliding glass door.

            Thankfully the glass didn’t break, but the couple on the sofa shot up like a couple jack in the boxes. Jenny was mortified! Then stunned! Devin apparently didn’t leave her for another woman after all. The partially dressed person that had been on the sofa with Devin was a guy.

            Devin seemed to shove his companion toward his front door as the two rapidly buttoned up their clothing. Devin moved quickly to the sliding glass door and opened it. Although he used expletives as he asked Jenny what she was doing, he seemed more confused and discombobulated than angry.

            “Jenny, what are you doing here!” he said, more as an accusation than a question.

            “I need to talk to you about something.”

            “Why didn’t you go to the front like a normal person?” he asked with hands on hips.

            Vermillion was inspiring Devin the way he had during most of their association. He was taking control, making her feel she was unworthy and that she should feel grateful to simply be in his presence. He had been the boss in their relationship, and he needed to take charge now. Especially with what she might have seen as she snuck up to his back door and spied.

            I, on the other hand, reminded Jenny of how often she felt humiliation with his condescending ways. I gave her recollection of why she was there in the first place. The pair of thoughts gave her the boldness needed to stand up to him. He had twice dumped her and left her pregnant after coaxing her into satisfying his lust.

            She shrugged and mirrored his hands on hips. Then she spoke loud enough he feared the neighbors overhearing. “I didn’t want to hear your pathetic voice through that squeaky intercom.”

            His frown turned into arched eyebrows. Jenny had never spoken to him like this before. Her reaction to the break ups had been crying and blithering. But then he frowned again. “So what did you feel the need to talk to me about? I’m not taking you back again!”

            “Taking me back? Ha! You’re the one that came crawling back several weeks ago, telling me you made a mistake with…” Now Jenny’s frown turned into arched eyebrows. “That guy.”

            “What guy?” Devin replied, seeming rattled. He turned and looked into his condo, and then back to Jenny. “There’s nobody here.”

            “I know what I saw Devin. You were sitting on the couch with some guy.”

            “Oh him… We had been working out together, then watching a ball game, but he had to leave.”

            “You two appeared to be kissing. You were half undressed when you stood.”

            “What are you talking about!” Devin said testily, but clearly nervous. “I told you we had been working out. Come sneaking up spying on me and then making phony allegations. How dare you!”

            Jenny put her hands up. She wisely realized he was only gonna get angrier if she pushed it. “Look, Devin, let’s just forget about it. There was glare on the glass, I must have been seeing things. Okay?”

            He eyed her suspiciously, Then wanting to move away from what she may or may not have seen, he asked belligerently, “So what did you need to tell me that a phone call wouldn’t have sufficed?”

            “I’m pregnant?” she blurted.

            He looked stunned. Then his brows furrowed and his eyes squinted. Then he sarcastically replied, “Really?”

            “Really,” she responded quietly.

            He began to pace and breath hard in and out of his nose. Then he stopped. “I thought you were on the pill?”

            “I am,” she replied. “But in the aftermath of our break up, I wasn’t eating, I wasn’t sleeping, and I became lackadaisical and forgot to consistently take them.”

            “So what now, are you trying to trap me?”

            “No, not at all. I just thought you had a right to know.”

            Devin still eyed her skeptically. Although he knew she wasn’t the type to sleep around, he had to ask. “So you’re saying I’m the father, and you’re one hundred percent sure?”

            She shook her head and then hung it in shame. “No, just most likely. You and I were together a half dozen times, but I did have a one night stand a couple days after you left me the second time.”

            “You had a one night stand?” he laughed without humor. “Maybe you should tell him too. Or was it some low life who you don’t even know?”

            “I know him and I plan to tell him.”

            “Who is it?”

            “You don’t know him. He was an old classmate I ran into when I went out with some friends.”

            “Wait here a minute,” he said cooly. He returned and placed two one hundred dollar bills into her hand and closed her fingers around it.

            “What’s this?”

            “It’s for an abortion.”

            “I’m not getting an abortion,” she said, shoving the money back at him, but he ignored the gesture.

            “Yeah,” he laughed sarcastically. “So you’re too moral to get an abortion, but not too moral to get naked with a guy you don’t know.”

            “I told you I knew him.”

            “Oh yeah, how long have you been dating?”

            She dropped the bills on the patio. “Have a nice life.”

            “Jenny wait,” he ordered. She kept going. Then with frightening hostility, he spoke to her back. “If you spread any lies about me, you’ll regret it! Big time!”

            Jenny stopped her hands from trembling by gripping the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. Maybe she should get an abortion, she thought. Did she really want to have a child that was half Devin? But there was a chance it was Jimmy’s baby, small though it might be. For it was only the one time and on the back side of her monthly cycle when she was probably done ovulating.

            Since the odds favored Devin being the father, she decided to procrastinate telling Jimmy of the possibility. Between the ugly encounters with first her mother and then Devin, she didn’t feel she had the fortitude to face a third confrontation that day. So she planned to wait at least until tomorrow. But her meetings with her mother and ex-boyfriend left such a bad taste in her mouth, she ended up waiting a week.

            Like a spiritual chess game, Vermillion and I maneuvered our pieces in the time before Jenny sought out Jimmy. He put into his path a woman that looked like she stepped out of the pages of a men’s magazine. While I caused his eyes to be cast onto something that at one time was a simple piece of blank white paper but now carried a meaningful message.

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 3

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

THEY WHO SIN AGAINST ME WRONGS THEIR OWN SOUL (Proverbs 8:36)

            Jenny Oakley lay sprawled on her bed; her position reminded her of making snow angels as a little girl. She glanced at the bottle of pills on her nightstand and then back at the ceiling. What was she to do? Twenty-two, single, poor and pregnant. She turned her head back to the nightstand, recalling the haunting words from Becky yesterday. Then she watched her hand move toward the bottle.

            “Jenny,” Becky had begun her judgement with a soft tone. Her condemning words ironically sounded soothing, sweet and dripping with honey. “Given what you confided to me the other day, I’m afraid I had to make a tough, tough decision. But as head deaconess, it’s my responsibility to uphold integrity… I’m afraid I can’t allow you to teach the children’s Bible  class going forward.”

            “Stop tempting her with the pills,” I told Vermillion.

            “She has free will,” he replied menacingly. “You put things in her way; I put things in her way.”

            “Why are you so filled with hate? Why do you want to destroy a sweet, innocent girl?”

            “Innocent? Ha! She’s a fornicator. She doesn’t even know if the daddy of her love child is Devin Hart or Jimmy Stetson.”

            “No thanks to you taking advantage of her desperation.”

            “Oh poor little heartsick Jenny. The Christian Bible tells its believers to come out of the world, not adopt its philosophies. She should have kept her skirt on until she was married, right? Not only that, she became intoxicated and had a one night stand with Jimmy Stetson.”

            “If anyone sins, they have an Advocate with Jesus,” I told him, paraphrasing 1 John 2:1.

            “Oh yeah? So apparently she had to use that Advocate over hundred times during the last two years. Every time she climbed into bed with old Devin baby.”

            “In her mind she was committing to him for life.”

            “Really?” he drawled sarcastically. “Funny, I never heard any vows. Never saw a wedding band slipped onto her finger. As matter of fact, in the beginning, as I’m sure you recall, he told her a man has needs. He suggested he would move on if those needs weren’t met. Shouldn’t he have at least suggested establishing a home together one day? She gave into ‘a man has needs’ without so much as a hint of commitment.”

            “They met in church, so she assumed he was in it for the long haul.”

            “Are you excusing sin?” he taunted.

            “Of course not! But I am trying to keep a desperate young woman from destroying herself for eternity.”

            “Too late, old friend,” he replied, emphasizing old and our former friendship before he became part of the third of angels cast out with their leader.

            “Why are you so cruel? Jenny’s done absolutely nothing to you.”

            “Oh yes she has, by default. We were kicked out of heaven for what you call sin. She’s a sinner. Jesus called Satan a murderer (John 8:44). Well old friend, this little hussy considerers herself a believer, while at the same time she’s contemplating murdering herself along with that little bun in the oven.”

            “You seem to be ignoring a huge difference.”

            “Am I? Or is sin not sin then?”

            “You and your cohorts sinned in the light of God’s glory. Without a fallen supernatural being taking advantage of weak human nature.”

            Vermillion grunted angrily and coaxed Jenny to not only reach for but grab the pills. I blocked and countered by causing her to notice the mail she had thrown onto the nightstand before she crashed onto her bed. Of the three pieces, two were junk mail. Then she frowned at the anonymous note I had arranged to arrive in her box.

            I might have had a text sent, but this was the summer of 1990, several years before cell phones. The brief communication simply said, ‘You can’t change the beginning, but you can start now and change the ending. Before you do something desperate, go talk to the two potential fathers. And I do mean both! They have a right to know.’

            Her frown deepened as she reread the note. She unconsciously opened the drawer of the nightstand and pushed the pills inside and closed it. Vermillion expressed frustration. He called me a few unflattering names and threatened to double down.

            Jenny wondered who of the two women she had confided in had sent the note. But wait, she thought, as an old saying came to mind. ‘Can three people keep a secret? Yes, if two are dead.’

            Maybe Trixie had told the other two girls she went out with during that night of indiscretion with Jimmy Stetson. What was she thinking that day, before it turned into night? But she had been curious.

            Curiosity is one of the most successful tricks my counterparts use, curiosity of the forbidden. What would it be like to smoke a cigarette or even a joint? What would it be like to experiment with some form of forbidden sex? What would it be like to try a beer or wine cooler?

            In hindsight, Jenny spending an evening with wild young women, who went by the names Trixie, Roxy, and Skippy, was poor judgement. Especially when Trixie declared happily, “We’re virtually the same size!” She then proceeded to dress Jenny like her peers. Complete with a low cut top, high rising skirt, black stockings, and shoes with three inch heels. Then they decorated her head with what seemed like a whole can of hairspray and gaudy make up.

            She felt like a clown and could hardly walk in the shoes. She regretted accepting the invitation Trixie had regularly offered her. The two women worked together as waitresses at a diner. Trixie was always sharing stories with her coworkers about carnal adventures she experienced with her girlfriends. And, well, Jenny was curious, telling herself she was just going to be an observer.

            Jenny rarely drank alcohol and had never had more than one in a sitting before that night. But she had downed two wine coolers before they even had left Trixie’s apartment. She was buzzed and kind of liked it. She also felt quite sexy for a clown.

            By the time they stopped at a third bar, Jenny was feeling no pain. She was also starting to feel no coordination, and before they exited Roxy’s car, she ditched the three inch heels for her own flats.

            Guys were hitting on her left and right! But she just giggled and replied ‘no thanks’ to offers of drinks or dance. Trixie playfully rebuked her. “Honey, when you dress hot, guys tend to want to keep you cool.”

            “What do you mean?” Jenny asked naively.

            Trixie emitted a throaty laugh. “I mean you drink for free.”

            “Check it out, Jimmy Stetson just came in,” Skippy declared as she pointed to three guys who came in together and sat at the bar.

            “He’s just a tease,” Roxy lamented. This comment made Jenny frown. She had only ever heard of girls labeled teases.

            “Tell me about it,” Skippy lamented. “I practically told him I wanted to go to bed with him and he blew me off.”

            “I guess all three of us have struck out with him in one way or another,” Trixie said.

            “Not many guys in the bar scene are out of our league,” Skippy drawled. “But Jimmy Stetson’s in a league of his own.”

            “Now don’t give him so much credit,” Trixie differed. “He’s just a hot construction worker, not some millionaire playboy.”

            “Maybe so,” Skippy said. “But I’ll make out with a Sting look alike any day.”

            “I think he looks more like a modern James Dean,” Roxy differed. “All cool and brooding.”

            “I say he looks like MacGyver,” Trixie added, then turned to Jenny. “What do you think?”

            “I agree with Trixie, when I knew him he always reminded me of MacGyver.”

            All three stopped with drinks half way to their mouths. Skippy asked, “What do you mean when you knew him?”

            Jenny shrugged. “Jimmy and I shared a lab table in science our senior year of high school.”

            “Go say ‘hi’ to him then,” Skippy challenged, seeming a bit jealous.

            Roxy pointed at Trixie, Skippy and then herself. “One, two, three strikes, we struck out.” Then she challenged. “Batter up!”

            If Jenny hadn’t been so buzzed, she would have sunk down in her chair, or maybe even have fled. On the other hand, she never would have admitted knowing Jimmy if she had been sober. But with her inhibitions down, she boldly arose and went to her former classmate and immediately teased him about a little accident he had. “Hey big fella, break any beakers lately?”

            He squinted at her with a smirk as his brain processed who the woman in front of him was. Then he grinned, “Jenny Oakley?”

            “One and the same,” she said a little drunkenly as she spread her arms.

            “I beg to differ,” he replied.

            She frowned. “What do you mean?”

            “You’re not the same Jenny I remember.”

            Understanding his implication, she cocked a hip, put a hand on it, and flipped her hair with her other hand. “You like my new look.”

            He turned to fully face her on his bar stool and folded his arms. “No offense, but I liked the old Jenny better.”

            Her face held a dumbfounded look as she gazed at him. He laughed. “Sorry, that was cold. I had few beers before we got here, it must have given me diarrhea of the mouth.”

            “No, that’s okay,” she giggled and actually touched his arm. “Would you mind telling me why? Just tonight with this little experiment, I’ve had more guys, um, checking me out, than I ever have before in my whole life. So I find it a little puzzling that you preferred the old me, so to speak.”

            “Believe it or not, I prefer a pretty girl who dresses wholesome. Keeps a guy guessing.”

            Jenny’s buzzed brain had trouble comprehending. She didn’t mean to make audible her thought. “Me pretty?”

            “Yes, you pretty,” he grinned.

            Despite the effects of adult beverage, she now blushed. Jenny had always felt filled with not quite. Her sandy hair was not quite blonde. Her gray eyes were not quite blue. Her eyes were not quite good enough to avoid glasses. Her teeth were not quite straight enough to avoid braces. Her grades were not quite an A average. Never interviewed quite well enough to get a good job.

            “So you don’t typically dress like this?” he asked.

            “No, never, I mean until now, you know tonight,” she pointed at her girlfriend’s table. The three were staring but looked away as soon as Jimmy’s gaze turned on them. “Trixie talked me into it.”

            “Oh yeah, how come?”

            Inhibitions loosened her tongue some more. “My boyfriend of almost two years dumped me for someone else a couple months ago. A few weeks ago he pleaded with me to take him back, saying he made a big mistake. I gave in and took him back. Long story short, a couple days ago, not even a month into our reunion, he tells me he and his wench got back together.

            “So, at work. Trixie and I are both waitresses at Grandma Em’s Diner. I was crying on Trixie’s shoulder about being played, or whatever it was he pulled… By the way, I wasn’t literally crying on her shoulder, it was ah, um, what do you call it?”

            “A figure of speech.”

            “Yes, a figure of speech. So Trixie convinced me that the best medicine would be a fun girl’s night out. Then before we left her place, she talked me into wearing some of her clothes.”

            “So you’ve never dressed like a stripper before?” he asked bluntly, almost insultingly.

            “No, never,” she said wide eyed. “As a matter of fact, I was wearing her shoes with three inch heels, but I put back on my own shoes that have none.”

            She kicked up a leg to reveal her low heeled pumps, and the shoe slipped off her foot and sailed off in an arch ten feet away. “Opps.”

            Jimmy retrieved the shoe. As he sat back down, he asked his buddy, “Don, will you slide down another stool so Jenny can sit down next to me?”

            “No problem,” Don grinned maliciously through a weeks’ worth of stubble and winked.

            “Sit down and give me your foot,” Jimmy ordered.

            Jenny obeyed with her eyes still wide and placed her foot on Jimmy’s lap. What happened next is why alcohol is called spirits. The more you use and abuse the substance, the more a being like Vermillion has a door open to tempt or even destroy a soul. Due to their inebriated state, coupled with lust and desire, my enemy’s work was made easy. I, on the other hand, was pretty much a helpless witness.

            Jenny was so enraptured by Jimmy holding both her foot and her shoe, she was oblivious to how high her already short skirt had hiked. I made her aware of his pause as he replaced her shoe on her foot, and she noticed where his eyes were transfixed. She wiggled on the stool as she worked her skirt back down to mid-thigh. Jimmy found this act of modesty in her immodest attire all the more alluring.

            “You must be Cinderella,” he grinned as the shoe fit.

            She giggled. “Then you must be my prince.”

            He kissed her and the table of three applauded. Their applause rippled into more clapping and cheers throughout the tavern. Jenny looked embarrassed, but Jimmy somehow looked both annoyed as well as amused. “Why can’t people mind their own business?”

            The night quickly became a blur. She vaguely remembered her and Jimmy stumbling into her apartment. She recalled their passion as if it was a dream. She with skin crawling remembers the morning quite well though. She was so nauseous she couldn’t make it to the bathroom and threw up in her garbage can. Thankfully, Jimmy had slipped out before she woke, so she at least didn’t have the embarrassment of him watching her hurl.

            Jimmy never called and Devin was back with the other woman. What should she do? Who sent the note? What did it matter? She read it again. Start where she was? She could change her ending?

            So start as single pregnant woman who was beyond broke with almost a thousand dollars debt on one of her credit cards and six hundred on another? Vermillion had her considering abortion, so I devised a plan of my own.

            Emma, the older lady that lived below Jenny on the ground floor, hated to impose on people. Let’s just say I persuaded her to call Jenny. “Hi Honey, I hate to bother you, but my brother is coming for supper tonight and I discovered I have a mouse nest in my little grill. With my recent hip replacement, I’m skittish about walking it down to the edge of the woods to get rid of it.”

            “Oh, Mrs. Vargus don’t you dare try to do that,” Jenny told her kindly. “It’s no problem at all. I’ll be right down.”

            Jenny gave a little squeal of surprise when she cleaned out the grill. She had expected the little pile of fluff to be empty. But as she dumped it at the edge of the woods, four hairless babies and the mother fell onto the ground. The mother began to hall her baby mice away one by one.

            Despite the monster a thousand times bigger a few feet away, the brave little creature came back for all four of her offspring, hiding each one safely, in her tiny mind, under some leaves. Jenny put a hand to her mouth and whimpered as tears flowed down her cheeks. “Lord, please forgive me for what I was considering. A mouse is a more devout mother than me.”

            She resolved to contact Devin Hart that very day. As a matter of fact she would call him as soon as she was done helping Mrs. Vargus. He did have a right to know he was likely going to be a father.

            She bit her lip. Likely! Why did she have to have that one night stand with Jimmy Stetson? That was so unlike her! Now she couldn’t be one hundred percent certain that the child was Devin’s, just mostly sure.

            “Hello?” A male voice droned over the phone line.

            “Hey Devin, it’s me,” Jenny said evenly. “We need to talk about something.”

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 17

LOUIS LEWIS

NO EVIL SHALL BEFALL YOU, NOR ANY PLAGUE COME NEAR YOUR DWELLING. FOR HE SHALL GIVE HIS ANGELS CHARGE OVER YOU, TO KEEP YOU IN ALL YOUR WAYS. (Psalm 91:10, 11)

            Destiny and Brock Storm’s remote acreage proved to be a refuge for many who were seeking shelter from the chaos of the plagues. They were showing up miraculously, claiming that they were brought by somebody in the know, that they did not know. More than once I witnessed them look around in bewilderment, exclaiming, ‘Where did they go?’

            The very first such person was Tim Grant. He was a distinguished looking man in his seventies. He had aged well and was in great shape for someone in the category of geriatric. I had taken a liking to him, notwithstanding thinking he might have a screw loose at first, due to his supernatural encounter. This only proved I still struggled with skepticism, despite miraculously escaping the first plague myself. But my faith was strengthening by the hour.

            Tim had a gentle manner with an easy smile, despite the bedlam happening in the world. He had been in search of Anna Clayton. When the first plague causing loathsome sores began to infect the majority of the population, he had become concerned about his onetime friend. I hadn’t known initially that they had been more than just friends. It turned out, he hadn’t known he had a daughter by her.

            And that’s why Anna’s husband had been irate when Tim had shown up on their doorstep an hour before standing on the Storm’s doorstep. That’s why after the affair he had moved away and had kept his distance for more than eight years. That’s why after the adulterous liaison he had sought repentance with tears.

            But after the plague fell, he needed to be sure Anna was okay. When Brad, his former neighbor opened the door, he hadn’t expected him to be glad to see him. What he hadn’t expected was to see the grotesque, puss oozing sores on Brad’s face. He had liked and respected Brad when they had lived next to each other. He had always thought of him as a Godly man, so he was sure that he would have been safe from the plagues. He wasn’t so sure about Anna.

            Despite Brad’s current attitude, he had graciously forgiven them both not quite a decade earlier after a guilty conscience had forced a confession from Anna. But then she had begun calling Tim again only a few months after their fling. Tim had patiently, kindly ordered her to stop trying to contact him. Yet a half dozen more times she had sent him texts pleading that she needed to see him.

            As painful as it was, he had ignored them. He didn’t know that she simply wanted to tell him the not so simple news that he was going to be a father. He didn’t know that Brad had actually insisted that Tim had a right to know. He didn’t know that Anna felt like it was news to be delivered in person. He didn’t know that Brad planned to accompany her in the possible meeting.

            As our numbers increased, the Storm’s large farm house began to feel like a bed and breakfast. Then it was like a college dormitory as we were doubled and tripled in our rooms. The children were sacking out on the living room floor. Despite uncertainty in the world, God blessed the kids for their simple faith and allowed them to treat our current living like a slumber party.

            I was sitting on my bed reading my Bible when Tim walked in. He and I had been paired up in my room. He had a look of awe and wonderment on his face. He and I had become fast friends, so he used a shortened version of my name as he addressed me. Sitting on his own bed he said, “I can hardly believe it, Lou. I have a daughter.”

            I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I said as much. “What do you mean?”

            “Anna, she just informed me that that little angel Brianna is the fruit of my loins.”

            I frowned. Maybe it was our age difference, for Tim had a good quarter century on me, but I found his term describing his parentage to Brianna odd. Yet I knew exactly what he meant, and I was stunned. Oh I knew Anna had confessed to infidelity, and that Brianna wasn’t her husband’s biological daughter. What caught me unexpectedly was it turning out to be this humble, pious man who was old enough to be Anna’s father as well as Brianna’s.

            “This is good news then?” I asked.

            He looked at me with a bewildered expression. “I don’t know. That one amazing night with Anna left me with years of guilt.”

            He began to whimper, then cry, then sob to the point his whole body shook. “How can such beauty come from ashes?”

            I suddenly knew why God had paired him and me together. I shared a common bond with him, a secret not even a half dozen people knew. A secret that left such a huge scar of shame on my soul I fought to keep the words inside that felt compelled to come out.

            Why, oh why did I feel this urge to confess to my brand new brother in Christ? This man I barely knew who was my complete opposite. He was soft spoken and gentle, compared to my history of gruff and abrupt. He was well to do, and I had mostly lived paycheck to paycheck. He drove a new Volvo, and I drove a car I bought at a police auction. Yet I felt a kinship with the man I couldn’t explain. Maybe we would even end up with our arms around each other singing ‘Ebony and Ivory.’

            “I know how you feel,” I heard myself say. “I too have a daughter out of wedlock.”

            His gaze was intense as we locked eyes. We didn’t know each well enough then for him to be surprised. But his countenance expressed, ‘You mean I’m not alone? Someone knows what it means to claim to follow God and fail big time?’

            As reluctant as I had been, it felt good to get this off my chest with someone. Someone who would not only understand but benefit as if we had our own little support group. But then he asked a question that caused my thinking to do a one-eighty. “Are you two close?”

            I looked away from his penetrating blue eyes. “No, she’s mostly wanted nothing to do with me.”

            “I see,” he said blankly.

            “But our situations are different, even though they’re similar,” I said, and then frowned at the contradictory statement. “It was a complicated time in my life. But when hasn’t there been a complicated time in my life.”

            “In the world we will have tribulation,” Tim said reassuringly.

            “But be of good cheer, I have overcome the world,” I finished. (John 16:33)

            We aimed forced smiles at each other. Then we sat in awkward silence for minute. Then he told me about him and Anna. How he fell in love with her after the initial harsh grief of his wife’s passing. He told of the afternoon they had innocently talked for an hour or two over a bottle of wine and things spontaneously turned romantic.

            I gently rebuked him. “Tim, there’s nothing innocent in sharing a bottle of wine with a married woman, especially when mutual attraction is present.”

            “Fair enough,” he nodded. “But in my defense, I thought the attraction was one sided.”

            “Did you? When you broke open the bottle of wine, what was your motive?”

            He considered me for a moment, sighed. “I wanted to loosen us up to see if the chemistry I felt was one sided or not. But I truly thought we would have only a glass maybe two, not the whole bottle.”

            “The human heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked,” I said.

            “Who can know it,” he finished. (Jeremiah 17:9) Then he added with a forced chuckle, “Well, thanks for putting me in my place, Brother.”

            I chuckled myself and said, “How about I share my own wicked and deceitful heart?”

            “Please do,” he grinned.

            I sighed. “You infiltrated Anna’s marriage; I betrayed my own vows. You seduced with wine, I with power and rank.”

            “You mean like David with Bathsheba?” he interjected.

            “Well, David was a king, while I was merely a police sergeant at the time. But now that you mention it, there was one similarity. The department gave us officers memberships to a gym. The first time I saw Ronda, she was in a hot tub wearing next to mothing. I asked a buddy who she was, and he said she her name was Ronda Jameson, and she had recently been hired on after working as a part time deputy for the Sherriff’s Department.

            “As you know, David summoned Bathsheba to his palace. Obviously I didn’t do that. But a couple days after seeing Ronda, I was put in charge of a vice sting operation. I was asked to ask two female officers if they were interested in working undercover as prostitutes. Ronda was the first one I summoned. She was beyond excited at the opportunity and very grateful.

            “What I’ve told you so far makes it sound like I had nefarious intentions. But that wasn’t the case. I never, ever intended on an affair with Ronda. I never ever thought I would cheat on my wife. But back then I did live by the worldly philosophy, I’m married not buried. It’s okay to look but not touch. However, do you know what Jesus taught regarding this idea?”

            “I certainly do,” Tim replied. “If you look upon a woman with lust you have already committed adultery in your heart.” (Matthew 5:28)

            “Exactly! When I not only saw but studied Ronda in that hot tub, I began the process of adultery. My buddy even pointed out the fact that I was staring. But you know how guys can be. Without the shame I should have felt, I simply told him that I was honing my investigative skills.”

            Tim chuckled politely and asked, “So what was the straw that broke the camel’s back?”

            “It came about very complicated, yet simple if that makes sense.”

            “It doesn’t,” he laughed.

            “Ronda had an abrasive personality. She didn’t have many friends, and she didn’t care to make friends. But she took a liking to me. I think it was because I chose her for that special assignment when she was very much still a rookie.

            “Even though I found her attractive, I never, ever thought I would act on it. But figuring it was one sided, I didn’t think I had anything to worry about. Sure, I was one of the few people she allowed into her small circle of friends, but romance? She knew I was married, and although I was in good shape back then, I never won any beauty contests. And she was a knock out.

            “Plus there was another factor. Being one of the few people in her small circle of friends, I was also one of the few people that knew she was in a relationship with a woman. So add it all up and what do you get? A recipe that makes nothing, right?”

            “It would seem so,” Tim replied. Then he arched an eyebrow. “So what happened?”

            “Like you and Anna, we were having adult beverages together after work.”

            Tim shook his head. “Think of all the problems alcohol causes.”

            “Well Tim,” I said with a little smirk. “I can’t speak for you, but nobody was forcing it down my gullet. My brain kept instructing my hand to put the glass to my lips.”

            “Fair point.”

            “So we were at a favorite cop hang out,” I continued. “I normally never had more than one drink. But Ronda was picking my brain about my first years on the force. So I’m telling war stories and we’re downing beers. She’s leaning on her fist, listening intently, and smiling like I’m the most fascinating man on the planet.

            “We both lived twenty plus miles from the police station. It had also started snowing and there was a blizzard warning. In between the bar we were at and the police station, there was a Holiday Inn Express. All was within reasonable walking distance. Due to the weather and likely having to work overtime with the winter storm, I already had a room booked.”

            “Let me guess,” Tim interjected. “A winter storm led to a perfect storm for infidelity?”

            “You got it,” I replied and then sighed. “Between both of us having too much to drink and drive coupled with the storm, I invited her to my room. I suppose trying to come off as a gentleman, I told her there were two beds. But, yada, yada, yada, we ended up only using one.

            “But unlike you and Anna, ours wasn’t a one off after coming to our senses. We saw each other a half dozen more times over the next couple months. Then at one of our rendezvous’, instead of having sex, she very cooly informed me that she was pregnant and the affair was over. She threatened to make the affair public if I wanted to be part of the child’s life.

            “It was truly a nightmare and the most complicated predicament I had ever been in. Seemingly overnight she and I went from being lovers to enemies. I was worried for my job, worried for my marriage, and worried for my reputation. My wife was unable to have children so it also hurt to have a child I couldn’t acknowledge.

            “Ronda kept her word. I kept my distance, and she never divulged that I was the father. She stuck around until she had the baby, then when her maternity leave was over, she quit the force and worked for an insurance company or some such.

            “She was a complicated woman that I never did figure out. To this day I don’t know how genuine her feelings were for me. If she was acting during our fling, she deserves an Oscar. She just flipped a switch overnight and I became a leech in her eyes. I suspect she just used me as a sperm donor and once she was pregnant, my usefulness had expired.

            “Long story short, I confessed my infidelity to my wife. To my utter surprise she tearfully forgave me. But the tears were not due only to my betrayal. To my utter shock, she confessed of infidelity herself.”

            “Why did that shock you?”

            “My wife was and is very religious.”

            “I’ve come to realize that doesn’t mean much,” Tim said with a sigh. “I’ve always been quite religious myself.”

            I nodded solemnly and continued. “By the time our daughter was a preteen, Ronda and her partner had broken up. Our daughter was having behavior problems, and she finally wanted me to be part of her life. But talk about fire and ice. ‘Lou, meet your daughter. Now discipline her.’

            “So, my relationship with my daughter has been volatile and on again off again. And as I sit here with you today, I am sick inside wondering if Aliyah is covered in loathsome soars or not. She has had moments of being open spiritually. But even more moments of ‘don’t preach to me, Lou’. She never got around to calling me Dad.”

            “How old would she be now?” Tim asked.

            “She just turned nineteen.”

            Tim and I continued to chat when the greatest miracle of my life happened. There was a knock at our door. It was Inga. “Hey Double Lou, there’s a young lady here to see you. It’s yet another case of apparently being led here by an angel.”

            And there she was! Aliyah! And she had no soars!

            I was so relieved, so thankful that she was here and okay that I couldn’t stop the tears. Then I wept for joy after she ran to me with open arms and said, “Daddy!”