by Mel Odom
Penny glanced at her and smiled. “Too true, my dear. That is a sad thing in this world.”
A Hummer loaded with MPs drove by the Lincoln Continental in the other direction.
“As to the issue of whether or not you can trust me, Megan, you’ll have to make up your own mind about that. I can only offer what you choose to see of the person I am before you. But I am in your corner. Truly, I am. You see, my father and I want to get the same message out that you do.”
“I don’t have a message.”
“Then why did you feel compelled to educate those children about the coming Tribulation?”
“Because someone needed to.”
“Yes, but that’s not where your message actually started. First, you told them that the Tribulation was here, that they are living in it now. That is your primary message.” Penny paused and turned the corner. “My father and I—since we have figured out that very thing too—believe that it is our bound duty to tell people as well. To warn them of what pitfalls and snares lie ahead. And we chose to start that message by helping you with yours.”
Megan took a deep breath and let it out. “Look, I appreciate your support, but if what you’re talking about is my being on your television program—”
“It is.”
“—then I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“My attorney—”
“Lieutenant Douglas Raymond Benbow.”
Megan was surprised. She hadn’t known Benbow’s middle name.
“By all accounts, Lieutenant Benbow is a good man. An exemplary man. But new to the legal practice.” Penny glanced at her. “As I have said, Megan, I am very thorough.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“Oh, heavens no. I am quite certain Lieutenant Benbow wouldn’t want me—or any other media person—within a country mile of you.”
“No,” Megan agreed, “he probably wouldn’t.”
“I’m sure the lieutenant told you that you should keep from making waves—”
“He called it keeping a low profile.”
Penny beamed. “Very lawyerly of him as well as suiting the military nomenclature. Very good advice once upon a time. Keeping a low profile might have worked for you at the beginning of this thing, Megan. But the incident involving young Miss Hollister, the confrontation with Major Trimble, and now this Tribulation class that has drawn the wrath of General Braddock himself … not to mention the fact that I showed up there today too.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid the days of your maintaining or possessing a low profile are forever over. The time comes when you must sometimes take strength in your weakness.”
Megan’s stomach rolled. She suddenly felt panicked and trapped. “I should be back with the kids.”
“And I think you should be with me.”
Megan studied the other woman.
“Megan, may I speak frankly?”
“Of course.”
“Quite truthfully, I hardly know any other way to speak. I don’t think you’ve gotten a true grasp of where you’re standing. You’ve been tossed from one emotional situation to another since this thing began, and you’ve hardly had time to draw a breath.”
That’s true, Megan thought.
“You’re standing in the path of a storm,” Penny said. “A very large, very nasty storm that seems hell-bent on bringing you to ruination. Personally, I believe you have been there purposefully, but I do not believe it was some vindictive measure. Now you can try to run from this storm, which I can assure you from looking everything over in the charges and motivations against you that you won’t be able to do, or you can attempt to ride it out, which I honestly think will wash over you and break you down should you chose that course of action.”
“You don’t sound very hopeful.”
“No, I am very hopeful. I believe in you and in what you’re trying to do. That’s why I came here yesterday after I found out the post would be opening up this morning. I want to help you. And I truly believe I can.” Penny was quiet for a moment. “If I sound too presumptuous I do apologize in advance—for that is in no way my intention, but I also believe that God put you on my heart and in my thoughts so that I can at least make the attempt to aid you.”
“How?”
“There is a third way to handle this storm coming at you so fiercely, Megan,” Penny said. “A very scary way, I must admit. But the only way I see that you can save yourself and do the work my father and I believe the Lord Himself has put before you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Penny checked the intersection ahead of them and drove through. “You must step inside the storm, Megan. You must draw the storm to you like a lightning rod draws lightning, and you must become the very eye of the storm. You must dare to tell the world the truth and put God’s work ahead of everything else.”
Megan thought about that. “Even if I believed that was true, I don’t know if I could do that.”
“Pray to God to help you.”
A lump formed in Megan’s throat. “I have been praying. I pray all the time. But I don’t think He’s listening. Or maybe He just doesn’t care about me. Every time I think things are going to get better, something else happens that puts me even deeper into this mess. It’s like I don’t even have a choice about what I’m doing anymore. My life just continues to get worse. I don’t think I even know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”
“The Bible says that God never gives you more than you can handle.” Penny reached across and patted Megan’s arm. “Some people, my dear, can just naturally handle more than others, so God gives them more to do.”
“If that’s true, it’s not fair.”
“No. No, I suppose it’s not. It’s just what is.”
Tears came to Megan’s eyes. She wiped them away. “I’m scared, Penny. Really scared. And I feel so alone.”
“I know. I know how you must feel. But you are not alone. I saw those young people with you, and I’ve talked to a few of your friends this morning. Only briefly, true, but it was enough. You’re not alone.
You have their hearts and their prayers.” Penny passed out of the front gates. “Let’s you and me go have something to eat. We’ll talk about what we can and can’t do, about what we should and shouldn’t do, and we’ll figure out what we will do.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“Planning’s a deceptive process,” Penny said. “You’re often deceived because you have the audacity to even consider taking the bull by the horns. Things always look easier on paper. When that trial starts in the morning, I’m sure things will be plenty hard then.”
Church of the Word
Marbury, Alabama
Local Time 1003 Hours
Slowly and warily, Delroy turned toward the voices he heard behind him and got to his feet. His body screamed in protest from all the abuse it had suffered recently. Automatically, he brushed the dust from the knees of his dress whites.
A black woman hunkered on her knees just inside the doorway of the church. She was thin and worn, wearing a shabby coat that had long ago seen its better days. She had on purple hospital scrubs and wore a name tag over one breast. She was at least in her midthirties but she looked older. Her curly black hair was cut short, framing a triangular face that had worn hard over the years. She had her arms spread across the backs of three teenagers. Two girls in jeans and jackets knelt on her right, and a boy who was almost a man knelt on her left.
“Reverend,” the woman said in a hesitant voice as she gazed at Delroy hopefully. “You are a reverend, right?”
Delroy looked at her. “I’m a United States Navy chaplain, ma’am.”
“That’s the same thing, ain’t it? You’re a preacher?” The hope in her voice was thick and fragile. “A man of God?”
Oh, Lord, Delroy prayed, help me here, because I don’t know quite how to answer that. You know my faith hasn’t been what it should.
“I struggle to be, ma’am,” Delroy answered.
“When I first saw you in here, dressed all in them whites, and me tired as I am from working a double shift at the hospital last night, I swear I thought you was an angel. Thought all that white was for sure angel wings.”
Delroy felt embarrassed. He should have known better than to wear the dress whites. No matter where he went, he was sure to attract attention. “No, ma’am.”
“Then when I saw you praying in this abandoned church, I thought it must be some kind of miracle.” Tears sprang from the woman’s eyes. “Don’t know how much you know about this place, but we ain’t had no preacher here in four years.”
“Aye, ma’am. I’d heard that.”
“I didn’t mean to intrude if you was wanting to be by yourself,” the woman said. “I … I …” She looked helplessly at her children. “I just need some help. With my chir’ren.”
Delroy nodded. “I’ve got some money I can spare.” He started to reach for his wallet.
“No, sir,” the woman said, holding her head up with a touch of hot pride. “I don’t mean money, Reverend.”
“Chaplain,” Delroy said automatically.
“Chaplain.” The woman wiped the tears from her face. The girls were crying with her now, and it was plain to Delroy that they were all scared. “I ain’t needin’ money. I’m needin’ answers.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know many answers,” Delroy admitted. “I’ve got a lot of questions myself.”
“You’re a man of God,” the woman accused. “You read the Bible. You trained for this sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing?”
“All these people disappearing, Reverend.” The woman’s hand shook as she continued to wipe at her face.
Delroy reached into his pocket and took out one of the monogrammed handkerchiefs Glenda had ordered for him and kept in regular supply. He crossed the room and handed the handkerchief to the woman, then helped her to her feet. She seemed so fragile and light, and she trembled terribly.
“One of my chir’ren disappeared when all them people disappeared,” the woman said. “His name was Rashad. I came home that morning, fount my other three chir’ren, but I didn’t find Rashad. I was so scairt. I thought somebody done went an’ stole my baby.” Overcome by exhaustion and grief, the woman almost collapsed but Delroy caught her by the arm and kept her on her feet.
Guiding the woman by the arm, pulling her against him so he could support her, Delroy reached down and rocked one of the pews back upright. The pew wobbled but stayed level. He sat her there. Uncomfortable with how he towered over her, he dropped into a squatting position.
“How old was Rashad?” Delroy asked in a gentle voice.
The woman tried to speak and couldn’t.
“Rashad weren’t but seven,” the boy said.
“What’s your name?” Delroy asked.
“Dominic.”
“And your momma’s?”
Dominic hesitated.
“It’s okay, Dominic,” Delroy said. “I just want to try to help.”
“Phyllis,” Dominic answered.
Delroy nodded. “Phyllis.”
The woman looked up at him.
“All the children disappeared that night,” Delroy said. “You know that, right?”
“That’s what I been tole. But I was so scairt. I just knew someone had done stole Rashad. I just knew once the DHS office fount out I done lost one of my chir’ren, they’d be along soon enough to take the rest of ‘em.” Phyllis wept, mouth working as she tried to continue talking. “Reverend, my babies is all I got outside of a hard job an’ bills what don’t stop an’ a life when I ain’t carin’ for my chir’ren.” She shook her head helplessly. “I didn’t want the DHS to come an’ take my babies. I didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Delroy agreed. “All the children twelve and younger disappeared that night. There was nothing you could have done to stop that.”
“We heard aliens got ‘em,” one of the girls said.
“That ain’t what happened, Nisha,” Phyllis said. “I done tole you God took up them chir’ren.”
“But you ain’t ever said why, Momma,” the other girl said.
“I know, Taryn. That’s ‘cause Momma don’t know yet.” Phyllis looked from her daughters back to Delroy. “I been watchin’ TV, Chaplain. Been readin’ my Bible. But I got no head for what I’m seein’. I just cain’t understand ever’thin’ what’s happened. I talked to my friends, an’ I talked to all them people I could at the hospital. Ain’t nobody got no answers that I can give my chir’ren about what’s happened to their baby brother.” Her voice broke for a moment. “An’ I cain’t even guarantee them that they ain’t gonna be next.”
“No more children will disappear,” Delroy said.
Phyllis searched his face. “Do you know what’s happenin’?”
Delroy hesitated for a moment, knowing he was hovering dangerously close to the edge of something that could swallow him up. He didn’t want to get involved with the woman or her children or their pain. All of them were more than he could handle, and he knew that. A man always had to know his limitations. Delroy did. He was already way in over his head. He just wanted to go back to the safety of USS Wasp.
And even as he thought that, he knew that if his daddy could know his heart and mind in this church right now, Josiah Harte would be ashamed.
“Aye, ma’am,” Delroy said. “I know what’s happening.”
“Then I need to know,” Phyllis pleaded. “I gots to tell my chir’ren so they understand. I don’t want them afraid no mo’. I didn’t work this hard tryin’ to bring them up to be God-fearin’ young men an’ women to have them lost.”
Delroy shook his head. “Ma’am, I really don’t think I’m the one to answer your questions. Don’t you have another pastor?”
“Pastor Leonard was one of them what disappeared,” Dominic said. “He taught a Bible study group at the Salvation Army an’ coached some roundball.”
“There’s women I talk to in my prayer group,” Phyllis said. “They’s tellin’ me that despite ever’thin’ we done seen, we ain’t seen bad yet. But it’s comin’.”
Delroy took in a deep breath and let it out. “Ma’am, I’m weak. I should be at my post on my ship right now. I should be helping young men prepare for battle. I’m not. I let my own self-interest take me away from them.” He shook his head regretfully. “I’m just not the man to do what you’re asking.”
Phyllis’s face turned cold. “Mister, all I’m askin’ you to do is help me explain to my chir’ren what we needs to do. Them ladies in my prayer group, they says the end of the world is upon us, that we missed bein’ called up to be with Jesus because we ain’t where we ought to be in our hearts, an’ that the devil hisself is set loose right in the middle of us like a fox in a henhouse. I ain’t askin’ for you to do it for me. I’m just askin’ for some guidance. That’s all. Just help me understand things I cain’t understand on my own.”
The woman’s words stung Delroy like a whip.
“You ain’t gotta dirty your hands or even break a sweat,” Phyllis said. “I just needs to know what’s comin’ so I can see my chir’ren get off to heaven like they deserve.” She stood with her head held high and tears sparkling on her ebony face. “But if you ain’t man enough to help us out, I best not waste any more time on you.” She took her girls’ hands as she stood and started toward the door.
Delroy watched her. He remembered when he was five years old and he asked his daddy what it was like to be a preacher.
“Well, now, little man,” Josiah had said, reaching down to take his son into his arms, “bein’ a preachin’ man is mighty hard work. You gotta believe so hard that you not only believe enough for yourownself, but you also believe enough for them folks what cain’t believe enough for themselves for a time.”
“How do you do that, Daddy?”
“Well, Son, sometimes you scare the devil right out of ‘em.”
“L
ike when you tell ‘em what hell is like an’ how their family’s going to miss ‘em in heaven?”
“Yes, sir, that’s one way.”
“You’re real good at that, Daddy. Sometimes you scare me.”
“Well, I’m sorry for that. I truly am.”
“That’s okay, Daddy. I don’t ever have nightmares like them movies make me have. Sometimes I like it when you scare me about God and stuff.”
“Well, now, Son, I think sometimes we all do. Reminds us that makin’ that choice to live for God is a mighty important thing. Important enough that even that ol’ devil has to sit up an’ take notice of us. But do you know what I mostly do?”
“What, Daddy?”
“I look at them people an’ I realize how scared they are about what’s comin’. Then I take ‘em by the hand an’ I lead ‘em in the path of the Lord.”
“Ain’t that hard, Daddy?”
“Only when they’s bein’ muleheaded an’ ain’t listenin’ any too good. But when you got a man or a woman—or a youngster like yourownself—what’s wantin’ to know what the Lord has said about somethin’, why all I have to do is open the Bible an’ give ‘em God’s Word. Sometimes I get surprised at how strong an’ rested all that hard work makes me.”
The woman had almost reached the door when Delroy called out to her. “Phyllis.”
She went stiff-backed for a moment; she halted but didn’t turn around.
“Phyllis, I’m sorry.” Delroy stayed where he was, knowing he couldn’t go after her. The decision to come back had to be hers. “My daddy was Josiah Harte. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of him, but he used to preach right here at this church. He preached long and hard to the folks that lived around here. I never saw him a day in his life when he didn’t know how to handle his relationship with God.”
The boy and the two girls turned to look at Delroy, but their mother held her ground.
“My daddy was a good man,” Delroy said. “A great preacher. He had a way with words that could ignite a congregation, scare them, and bring them home to Jesus in droves.” He paused. “But I’m not my daddy. I never have been. But if I let you walk out of this church—my daddy’s church—without at least trying to help you, I know I don’t deserve to be my daddy’s son. And, ma’am, that’s something that I just can’t do.”