Tag: humor

ANGELS AT WAR – CHAPTER 11

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 11

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

BEHOLD, YOU DESIRE TRUTH IN THE INWARD PARTS, AND IN THE HIDDEN PART YOU WILL MAKE ME TO KNOW WISDOM (Psalm 51:6)

            “Yes!” Vermillion bellowed. “Look at his face, Querida!”

            It had been three days since Jimmy had seen Jenny, although they did have a few phone conversations. She had also been absent from the prophecy seminars ever since Larry had suggested they stop attending. Although she seemed to have a legitimate excuse, as her job as a waitress often had her working evenings, it had been in the back of Jimmy’s mind that Larry had influenced her.

            But she had this night off and Jimmy had a big surprise for her. She said she had a big surprise as well. But Jimmy wanted to go first. Was he gonna propose marriage? Her brain scrambled with how she should reply. He led her from her apartment down to the parking lot. He spread his hands at a 1979 Chevy Chevette.

            “What do think?” he asked, waving a hand at the compact car. “It’s all yours. A little old lady owned it. It is eleven years old, but it’s cherry. And I don’t just mean the color. It only has a little over fifty thousand miles. It’s in mint condition.”

            Jenny stared at it with wide eyes and a gaped mouth. Jimmy thought she was overwhelmed with surprise. He began to sing the Prince song ‘Little Red Corvette.’ But he changed Corvette to Chevette.

            “You bought a car for me?” she asked. He frowned at her stricken expression. He thought the stunned look she first exhibited would turn to joy. “Jimmy, you shouldn’t have.”

            “No worries,” he said. “It didn’t even cost me a third of my savings.”

            “Can you return it?”

            “Why would you want me to return it?”

            “This is so awkward,” she said, breathing hard, like she was about to have a panic attack. She put her face in her hands.

            “What is it?”

            She pointed to a gray 1985 Monte Carlo. It looked like it had just rolled off the assembly line. “Larry gave me Linda’s car just a couple hours ago. Signed the title over to me and everything.”

            “I see. I was gonna sign the title over to you as well,” Jimmy said. She noticed that he had said WAS.

            “He hadn’t sold it out of memory for her,” Jenny explained. “It’s mostly been in the garage the last few years. Since she and I had been pretty close, he said giving it to me was the perfect solution to free up space in his garage, as well as help me with my vehicle dilemma. It only has sixteen thousand miles.”

            “Left, right, left, right,” Vermillion cackled. “Now watch, Querida, the knockout punch is being thrown by the old the green eyed monster.”

            “Okay then. I guess you won’t be needing the Chevette.”

            “Oh Jimmy, it was so sweet of you though!” She hugged him tight and kissed his mouth. “I’m sure you could sell it for what you paid for it.”

            He shrugged. “I’ll keep it. It will get much better gas milage than my truck… So instead of leaving it here, why don’t you drive the Chevette to my place and I’ll follow you in my truck. Then we can head to the seminar.”

            “About that,” she said and winced. “I won’t be able to go with you tonight.”

            “How come? I thought you had the night off.”

            Her wince increased to a cringe. “I do, but I’m cooking dinner for Larry.”

            And that is when Vermillion told me to look at Jimmy’s face.

            “You’re kidding,” Jimmy said quietly, but with a bit of a growl.

            I cringed and Vermillion cackled some more.

            “Jimmy, please understand. When I said how can I ever thank you to Larry, he said ‘just cook me dinner.’ He specifically wanted this chicken bake I used to make for him.”

            “Well, our being couple didn’t last that long, did it?”

            “Jimmy, don’t be like that! I told you Larry is more like a father figure to me. Very much like an uncle.”

            “That’s twisted, Jenny. If he’s a father figure, or like an uncle, then how is it your relationship became… how did you put it? Affectionate. And you two did stuff. Well Jen, you don’t do the stuff you suggested with a father or uncle.”

            She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I admitted our relationship was complex. But the reality is, he is not my father or uncle.”

            “Exactly, he’s more like an ex. Now you’re cooking dinner for him, instead of going out with me.”

            “Jimmy, he bought me a car.”

            “So did I!”

            “I’m sorry… I guess he got to me first.”

            “Yes he did… I need to get going, Jenny.”

            “Jimmy, please. After tonight I will do my best to avoid Larry.”

            There is no neutral ground in the universe. Every square inch, every split second is claimed by God and counter claimed by Satan. As Jimmy was being demonically assaulted with jealousy, I ran an attitude of patience through his mind. A mindset of selflessness into his conscience. As new as he was to Bible based faith, he was learning to follow the Holy Spirit.

            Jimmy smiled, nodded, and said mildly, “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

            Vermillion frowned at the abrupt change in attitude. We watched as Jimmy and Jenny returned his two vehicles to his home. Jimmy swung a leg over his Vmax. “Do you mind if I take you back to your place on my motorcycle?”

            “Not at all,” Jenny grinned.

            Vermillion didn’t watch as the young couple exchanged a quick kiss goodbye. He had focused his attention on Lucy Freya before Jimmy and Jenny had climbed onto his motorcycle. It was a hot day, and he inspired Lucy to put on tight gym shorts and a small halter top. Right about the time Jimmy started his bike with Jenny on the back, Lucy kick started her Yamahopper moped and headed to the seminar.

            This fifth night of the seminar was entitled ‘A Colossal City In Space.’ Until this evening, Jimmy had always arrived before Lucy. But as he pulled into the parking lot, he saw her walking into the auditorium. As he entered the building himself, he watched her take her usual seat in the back.

            “That’s it, Lucy, Jimmy’s not in his usual seat,” Vermillion began a play by play. “He must not be here. You won’t be able to keep an eye on him. Why do you find him so appealing anyway? Especially with what happened to you. But you do. So much so, you want to go sit in his usual seat. Row eleven and seat A, right on the end. Keep an eye on this, Querida, lust is a beautiful, helpful thing.”

            Jimmy watched as Lucy got up and went to the chair he had occupied for the previous four events. He followed her down to the middle of the auditorium. She had only been seated a couple seconds when he squatted next to her and grinned. “You’re in my seat.”

            She looked startled at first but smiled back. “I didn’t see a reserved sign.”

            “I don’t want to cause a scene, so you just better move right now,” he said menacingly.

            Although he was clearly joking, the smile left her face. Teasing and flirting had gotten her into big trouble four months ago. It was an ordeal that would leave a permanent scar.

            “Hey,” Jimmy said easily. “I was joking.”

            “I know,” she responded, forcing a smile. “I just had a weird thought is all.”

            She hoped he wouldn’t ask about the weird thought, which was actually a nightmarish recollection. But he simply said, “I guess I’ll just have to sit in seat B.”

            He scooted past her and sat. She crossed one leg over the other and Jimmy watched intently. You could say beings like Vermillion and I give food for thought to people, as well as protection on my side and destruction on his.

            So Vermillion used distraction with Jimmy’s thoughts. Is it possible Lucy has even nicer legs than Lexi? Apples and oranges. What about Jenny’s legs? Apples, oranges, and bananas. Jenny was so feminine, Lexi was so athletic, and Lucy was in between. Compare their chests, that halter top isn’t very modest.

            Look at her eyes, Jimmy, I coaxed. Turn your head, Lucy. For the first time, Jimmy gazed directly into Lucy’s light brown eyes. He squinted. “You have amazing eyes. I hadn’t noticed those little gold flecks.”

            “Not surprising,” she said with a coy smile. “When you seem to be looking elsewhere.”

            “Just want to make sure you’re not crowding me and that big hammer of a foot doesn’t come down on mine.”

            “Hammer foot!” Lucy replied incredulously, but with a little smile as she bobbed her left foot, covered by a white Reebok running shoe. “I wear a size seven, that’s hardly a hammer foot.”

            What was she doing flirting with a guy? She hadn’t directly flirted with a guy since that awful night four months ago during spring break in Florida. Her playful banter with Jimmy quickly morphed into frustration. She stomped on his foot. The sudden surprise of her impulsive action, coupled with pain, almost made him cry out. But aware of his surroundings, he merely grunted.

            He looked at her incredulously, but she looked as surprised as he did. Her eyes were wide and her hand covered her mouth. Just above a whisper she said, “I’m so sorry, Jimmy, I didn’t mean to do that so hard.”

            “Well you did,” he replied and began to rise from his seat. “I can take a hint; I’ll sit somewhere else.”

            “Please don’t go,” she said, spontaneously grabbing his hand, surprising herself. What puzzled her even further was that she held it tightly even after he sat back down. He looked at their joined hands, and then into her large, soulful eyes with confusion. Her gaze seemed to be pleading some type of need from him. But for what he didn’t have a clue. They hardly knew each other, yet it somehow seemed they had known each other for a long time.

            Who was this strange, yet intriguing girl who was known as LucyFr? Part of him wanted to flee, while part of him wanted to protect her. Sort of like Jenny. But protect from what? What was happening to him? He had never really felt the urge to play protector with females before. Just the opposite. He was a heartbreaker. Love em, but when they started to get to close, leave em.  

            But now he felt the need to play protector with a second woman in less than a month. What did this mean? What was he to do? What was his relationship with Jenny? What was this dynamic he felt with Lucy? Could he or should he be friends with a girl he found so appealing?

            He had noticed Lucy talking with the pastor’s wife for a second time after the meeting the previous night. Only this time she seemed to be wiping her eyes as if crying. Now tonight she was clutching Jimmy’s hand almost like he was pulling her from a raging river. Only the river was life, and they were both making their way to the living waters. (Revelation chapter 22 and John 4:10)

            The meeting started. As the pair began to learn about the new heaven and the new earth in Revelation chapter twenty-one, Lucy’s hand slipped from Jimmy’s as she began to take notes. Next they studied about the city of God, the New Jerusalem. As with the previous nights, they left the auditorium with a sense of wonder at the Bible truths they had learned.

            I couldn’t get a read on what my counterpart’s plan was. I detected concern over Jimmy and Lucy’s interest in Bible truth. I knew he was using jealousy in the case of Jimmy’s feelings for Jenny. I was countering with her delicate femininity and gentle nature, coupled with her pregnancy dilemma. But the more Jenny let Larry become involved in her life, the more my efforts were slipping away.

            When it came to Lucy, Vermillion was falling back on old faithful when it came to Jimmy. That was simply animal lust. As familiar with a variety of ladies as Jimmy was, he had never met anyone quite like Lucy. What a combination of both cute and sexy. Add in the spices of feisty, fun loving, as well as mysterious, and it brewed quite a stew of agitated hormones in the young man.

            But I made Jimmy aware of Lucy’s vulnerability. I caused him to detect her hidden pain, that faraway look in her eyes which would hopefully cause him to respectfully keep his distance. I was also trying to establish a bond between them with a newfound love of the Bible.

            “I don’t get what you’re up to,” Vermillion said, not knowing whether I was pushing Jimmy toward Lucy or Jenny. I only knew that, with favorable conditions, either woman he chose would be instrumental in becoming a one woman man.

            “Fair enough, I don’t get what you’re up to,” I replied. Not knowing if Larry would continue to be in Jenny’s ear about the seminars. Or if Jimmy’s jealousy would get out of control. Or if Lucy’s scars would limit or eliminate her growth.

            “You know it’s a no win situation,” Vermillion added. I made no reply, so he continued. “There’s gonna be pain and rejection of what you call truth no matter where this all goes.”

            We watched as Lucy and Jimmy left the auditorium. She stopped at her QT 50 Yamahopper moped. His Yamaha Vmax, one of the most powerful production motorcycles of its time, was parked ten feet away. Lucy teased, “Wanna race?”

            “As long as you give me a head start,” Jimmy joked.

            “So where’s your girlfriend been?” Lucy blurted.

            “She works most nights,” he replied. The subject of Jenny between them felt strange.

            “So she is your girlfriend then?”

            He shrugged. “Yeah.”

            “So you were cheating on her with Lexi?” Lucy asked, and all teasing was gone. Her demeanor was one of disapproval.

            “No,” he replied and then tried to explain his relationship with Jenny, and what happened following his situation with Lexi.

            “Wow, so she’s pregnant, and you might be the father, but most likely you’re not? And this Larry guy, who gave her a car, who she’s cooking dinner for tonight is the grandfather? And they had been sort of lovers in the past, but not really?”

            “That pretty much sums it up.”

            “That should be written into a soap opera.”

            “Tell me about it.”

            “I just did,” she said with a giggle, and then frowned. “You two seem like an odd fit.”

            “Who is a good fit for me? Lexi?” he asked with a bit of sarcasm.

            “No,” she said as she kick started her Yamahopper. She would have roared off, but it was a moped, so she began to put, put away. Over her shoulder, she said, “Me.”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 15

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 15

DREW ALDO

  SEEK FIRST THE KINGDOM OF GOD AND HIS RIGHTEOUSNESS, AND ALL THESE THINGS SHALL BE ADDED TO YOU. (Matthew 6:33)

            I felt my toes curl when Sevenia Sallie told my brother Jerry that his girlfriend Brenda was her cousin. Brenda was Jerry’s ex, or something like that. If a six week relationship is long enough to merit the term ‘ex.’

            Sevenia had made this declaration happily. For she had yet to discover that Jerry and Brenda were no longer an item. To make matters worse, I could tell that Jerry had been smitten with Sevenia. This surprised me. Jerry’s typical lady of the moment was usually a blonde with dark roots, a tastefully placed tattoo or four, and a few piercings beyond just the ears.

            Sevenia, like Nancy, was a plain Jane. However, for my tastes this usually spelled natural beauty. But I guess I don’t think like most guys. Take your average male. If one of Jerry’s typical dates was walking down one side of the street and Sevenia on the other, at least four out of five are watching Jerry’s typical date.

            When I first met Sevenia a couple years ago, I myself was smitten with her. But because she had a boyfriend at the time, we became friends on a brother and sister level. She sort of reminded me of Nancy due to their similar builds, as well smooth alabaster skin, short hair and simple dress. But that’s where their similarities ended.

            Sevenia’s auburn hair was short and spiked at the time, whereas Nancy’s hair was strawberry blonde and stylishly mussed. But I don’t believe the stylish aspect was intentional. Nancy just washed, tossed and went.

            Their personalities were opposite as well. Sevenia was bubbly and outgoing. Nancy was an introvert who was often moody and sullen. While I was in between. I never got too high and never got too low. I suppose I still am.

            Although the revelation that Jerry and Sevenia’s cousin had just broken up was awkward at first, she seemed to shrug it off. Over the next three weeks, the thirteen prophecy presentations went off without a hitch. Nancy was baptized on the last night, and Jerry recommitted to his childhood faith.

            The next day I wasn’t surprised to get a text from Sevenia, but I was a little surprised at the time, 12:51 am. She requested that I call her. When I did she requested to meet me alone. We decided on lunch at the Bluebird café. At 12:48 pm Sevenia came walking into the cafe wearing a light blue summer dress with white sneakers.

            After quick greetings, I had to ask, “So why this urgent clandestine meeting?”

            She smiled but frowned. “Is that what you think this is?”

            “You texted me at 12:51 in the morning.”

            She crinkled her cute little nose, and her large emerald eyes looked a little mischievous. “Sorry about that, I was a little discombobulated.”

            “Over what?”

            “Your brother.”

            “My brother?”

            “Yeah, we were at the church talking for several hours last night. I guess you could say we really have hit it off, and then he asked me to dinner tonight. I told him yes, but I instantly regretted it. So when we parted ways, without thinking, I just rattled off that text to you. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

            “No, I didn’t see it till the morning. Well wait, I guess it was morning when you sent it. So you and Jerry talked until one?”

            “No, it wasn’t one yet.”

            “Oh, sorry,” I teased. “So you and Jerry talked until nine minutes to one.”

            “No, more like a quarter to one.”

            “My bad,” I replied, and then we looked at each other for a long moment. “So why do you regret it? It sounds like it’s just a friendly dinner.”

            “Well,” she winced. “I find Jerry rather appealing.”

            “And that’s a bad thing?”

            “Yes, for a couple reasons.”

            “I’m listening,” I said, reminding myself of Frasier Crane.

            “I sort of swore off the possibility of romance to focus on serving God,” she said. She sighed and looked out the window. A waitress had brought us waters and menus, and she twisted the wrapper from a straw in her fingers. “I don’t mean a promise, just kind of an intention.”

            “You said a couple reasons?”

            “Well, maybe this is unfair, even judgmental. I may have just gotten to know your brother, but I knew of him.”

            “Let me guess, you think he was a womanizer.”

            “Drew, I don’t think there’s any guessing about it.”

            “Oh boy,” I said and pinched the bridge of my nose. Then I looked at her solemnly. “He would probably kill me if he knew what I’m about to tell you, so please keep it to yourself.”

            “I’m listening.”

            So I shared with Sevenia what Jerry had shared with me a couple days before Sevenia’s prophecy seminar got underway. About how due to his religious upbringing he never actually had sex with any of the girls he dated. How although he only halfheartedly followed the fundamental beliefs of our church, he believes one should be committed before intimate relations. Now that he has repented, and turned from his backslidden ways, I’m sure he believes a couple should even be married.

            I was concerned when Sevenia stared at me with a blank expression. Then she quietly said, “I think I’m in love.”

            I reached across the table and took hold of her hand. “I’m flattered, Sevenia, but I’m with Nancy.”

            She laughed. “I meant Jerry, not you… I mean I love you as a dear friend, but…”

            “I know. I love you too as a dear friend.”

            “Just so you know,” Sevenia said, looking a little shy and nervous. This was strange to see because she is such a confident, dynamic speaker. “When you and I first met, I found you very desirable. But I had a boyfriend at the time, and you were heartbroken over Nancy putting the kibosh on your friendship. As a matter of fact, one of the things I found appealing about Jerry was his similarities to you.”

            “But with muscles on the order of Brock Storm,” I said with a grin. When Sevenia and I first became friends, she confessed guilt that she had had a bit of a crush on Brock, who is built like an NFL linebacker and married to Destiny Knight-Storm. He’s also her dad’s cousin.

            “I suppose,” she grinned back, but then grew serious. “I think the main thing is he is recommitting to God. Not being unequally yoked is very important to me.”

            Now I squirmed and looked a little nervous. In the course of our friendship, she had given me honest council that Nancy being out of my life was for the best if she refused to follow God. That had been the reason she had broken up with her own boyfriend. She had hoped he would convert, but he ultimately chose not to.

            “It’s important to me as well,” I declared. “It was troubling to be so attracted to someone who didn’t share my spiritual values.”

            “It seems there are no worries now,” she said happily.

            “Well, our spiritual beliefs are now in harmony. But I’m not certain she will ever want to be in a relationship. She has always been afraid of intimacy.”

            “Well, I’ve got some good and bad news for you,” Sevenia reported with a coy smile.

            I frowned. “Regarding Nancy?”

            “Yes. There’s actually a dual reason for our, what did you call it? Our clandestine meeting?”

            “If it wasn’t, it is now. So what is it you have to say about Nancy?”

          “When she discovered that you and I had become pretty good friends over the last couple years, she confided a couple things to me last night before you guys left.”

          “And something was good, and something was bad?”

          Sevenia nodded.

          “Tell me the bad first.”

          She frowned. “I kind of need to tell you the good first, because the bad coincides with it.”

          “Okay, spit it out.”

          “She was lamenting that you haven’t discussed marriage with her.”

          “I was just giving her time to get adjusted spiritually.”

          “Well, just so you know, she’s had enough time.”

          “So what’s the bad? Is she worried she’ll be afraid of intimacy?”

          “Because of the abuse she endured as a child, she’s been told by doctors she likely could not have children.”

          “That’s not important to me. When and if the time comes, we can adopt.”

          Sevenia smiled sweetly at me, took my hand, and said, “Go to her.”

          Two hours after having lunch with Sevenia, Nancy and I found ourselves at Cotton Creek. The rippling stream was about a football field’s length behind our church. I’d like to tell you I did something like have a skywriter spell out a proposal. But after she sat on a bench, I simply went to one knee and asked her to marry me.

          Instead of saying yes, she said, “Did you talk to Sevenia?”

          “I did.”

          “Did she tell you about me being barren?”

          “Yes, and it doesn’t matter. All that matters is I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

          She started to cry as she said, “I’m sorry I asked her to do it for me. I just couldn’t face you with it. Especially so soon after you found out what happened to me as a kid.”

          “Hey, it’s alright,” I soothed, caressing her cheek with my thumb. “But please answer my question.”

          “What question?” she asked. Then she gasped and went to her knees in front of me. Then before kissing me passionately she said, “Yes, oh yes!”

          After a couple minutes of hugging and kissing, she became dead serious. “By the way, the boy that rescued me from my situation all those years ago wants to meet with me.”

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.”