Nepravel was upset and worried. Starting on Tuesday night, and building all during the day on Wednesday, hundreds of answered prayers had been hitting their voices in Amy, diminishing their intensity and threatening to trigger intervention in their plans by one or more of those blasted angels. Even late that night, as Amy slept, the incoming lights arched across the sky, telling all of the city's demons that someone in Nepravel's sector was the subject of intense prayer.
As he rushed about, bringing in Doubt, False Teaching, and Selfishness, to replenish the voices in Amy for the last two days before her abortion, he cursed the Prayer Warriors at Morningside Church. “There may not be many people at that church, but when they want to, they can really cause problems. We've got to figure out a way to strangle them!” Nepravel hissed, angry that he was missing his regular night at the nearby Platinum Club, where he urged visiting businessmen to forget about their wives and to have a wonderful time in their great city. “Balzor will certainly ask tonight about our plans and about all these prayers, which are ruining the darkness. I'll have to ask for help, to silence some of these prayer people, before an angel gets involved.”
8
FRIDAY, MAY 26 – Friday morning it was still raining, though the reports said it would clear by the afternoon. “Don't forget, everybody, that I'll be working late tonight,” Janet reminded her family at breakfast. “We're having the local test run for this controversial new show ‘911 Live’, and I'm going along, chasing ambulances if you will, until about eleven, I imagine.”
“Will it be on TV?” Susan asked, looking for some socks in the laundry room.
“Not tonight. But if all goes well—if that's the right word—it will be on this fall, broadcast live from ten different cities, including ours.”
“Neat,” said Tommy, turning from the open refrigerator. “And it's going to show, like, what's really happening at that moment, like, right when it's happening? Right?”
“Yes, that's the idea. But first we have to see if it works tonight.” She glanced at Richard, who was reading the morning paper at the end of the breakfast room table. The two of them had experienced their first argument in many weeks the night before, when Richard learned that the station's experiment would keep Janet out until almost midnight.
She had explained all about Tom Spence and the others who were concerned about the show. And about Bill Shaw arranging for this “test run.” Richard heard, but the voices, which had been diminished by the prayer breakfast, by the Merediths’ daily prayers for the Sullivans, and by Richard's own recent thoughts, had spun up again under Nepravel's masterful control. Without any other force to counter them inside Richard, they slowly came back to control his words, urged on as well by his total confusion and guilt about Kristen.
“Janet, I hate it when you work late,” he had launched into her the night before. “And on Friday night! I thought we had agreed to spend more time with each other and with the kids. I hope you've noticed how I've tried to do my share. Now here you go again, out all night. You really are married to that job…” The last words had really stung her, but her defense was weak, because she was about to spend an evening away. Why does Richard make such a big issue of this? she wondered. After so many weeks of relative calm and budding happiness, it sounded to Janet as if she were hearing voices, almost canned voices, from their past.
“I'm sorry,” she had said, and meant it. “I didn't plan the timing, but I do think it's an important issue.”
“It's always important,” Richard snapped, with annoyance in his voice. And that had been the unhappy end to their conversation, which felt unfortunately like many they had suffered before, though not for several weeks. Janet got the message that she was the cause, but she didn't know what she could do, other than to quit her job. Was Richard going to react like this whenever an assignment took her away, even for a few extra hours?
So in the morning they were back to an icy standoff. Janet didn't want a flare-up in front of the children, so she was thankful for Richard's pointed silence. But she knew she would have to talk to him about it, maybe tomorrow, after the test run was over.
“Is either of you doing anything special today?” Janet asked her two teenagers.
Tommy thought for a moment and then shook his head. Susan smiled and lied, “No, nothing in particular.” But she thought to herself, Just skipping class to go with Amy to get an abortion that her parents don't know about…nothing significant at all…
Susan and Amy were surprised to find Bobbie waiting for them in Mrs. Simpson's outer office. “Are you going with us?” Amy asked.
“No, I still can't do that,” Bobbie replied in a low voice, hoping that Mrs. Simpson wouldn't hear her. “I want you to know again that I wish you wouldn't do this, Amy.” Amy grimaced. “I know, you think I'm a broken record. But it's not right to kill your baby.” Amy took a step back and folded her hands in front of her. Bobbie paused, but Amy just stared at her while Susan watched them both. “If I can't stop you, then I also want you to know that I love you—both of you—very much.” Tears once again flooded her eyes, and Susan felt her own tears coming. “I can't come, but I'm going to cut my classes and find some quiet place to pray. For you, for the baby, for Susan, for me, for Billy…for all of us involved in this. I just want it to be over, and you to be OK, and all of us back the way we were, if we can be….” Then Bobbie hugged Amy tightly and left.
As Amy and Susan turned back from watching her leave, Mrs. Simpson entered from her office. “There you are. Good morning. I hear everything is set up for you and will be just fine. I've written the excused absences for both of you, and I'll take them to the office in a minute. The van should be coming around to this side door,” she pointed out into the hall, “any time now. Do you have the fee? Do you have any questions?”
“Will we come back here immediately afterwards? Will I feel like going back to class?” asked Amy.
“They usually keep you for an hour or so of observation. You both may want to take your books with you. When you get back here, we'll see how you are and just play it by ear. OK?”
“One more thing,” Amy added. “Could you please also write an excuse for Bobbie? She wants to come with us, but she just can't. She's going to cut her classes to pray.” Mrs. Simpson looked shocked. “And we don't want her to get in trouble.”
Then Mrs. Simpson smiled. “Well, I guess it won't hurt. Sure, Amy, I can do that…Oh, there's the van. Good luck, and I'll see you both in a few hours.”
* * *
Nepravel was livid. The barrage of prayers for Amy had only let up slightly during the night, and with the dawn, they had intensified again. Then that Meredith girl's last-minute plea to Amy had been short but powerful. It was lucky he had followed Amy to school and could be there to combat the Truth with the voice of Decisions Made. But the prayers were taking their toll—the voices in Amy were winding down. She was starting to think about that baby again, riding along in the van with Susan and two girls from Riverside High. This might be touch and go, despite the determined front she had put up only yesterday. Nepravel hated their prayers!
And now, worst of all, from his vantage point on top of the van, Nepravel could clearly see what appeared to be the glistening light of at least one angel in the vicinity of the abortion clinic. Oh great! All these prayers for Amy, plus the usual prayers from the believers demonstrating in front of the clinic, had finally produced the divine intervention he so feared, because his horde was not ready for it. Yes, there he was. A huge warrior angel, right over the abortion clinic, his talons poised and his beaks snapping.
Unlike the prayer breakfast, when the demons had prepared and outnumbered the two angels by a huge margin, Nepravel had no help at the abortion clinic that morning, other than the two demons who normally guarded it, and the one who always rode the van. To his dismay, the angel, shouting, “Holy is the Lord God Almighty,” caught one of the two clinic's demons who tried to plunge for a bite at his neck. The angel closed his talons ar
ound the squirming demon and squeezed tightly. The demon screamed and suddenly exploded into a black fireball, which the angel then hurled at the second demon, who was quickly backing off.
As the van neared the abortion clinic and the angel saw the two demons riding on top, he began to fly in their direction. Nepravel, being a liar but not a fool, knew that alone they were no match for one of God's fiercest warriors, and he beat a fast retreat, followed closely by his companion. The angel returned to his position over the clinic, and Nepravel stood off at a distance and cursed. “Who will now tend to the voices in Amy?” he spat.
“Janet, the guys from Network are out checking the cameras and the sound equipment on the emergency vehicles,” Bill said over the intercom. “If there are no problems, they should be back here in time for lunch. Can you join us?”
“Uh, let me see. Sure, Bill, that will be great,” Janet replied. “It would be nice to hear Network's view on ‘911 Live’ first hand.”
“And, uh, Janet. Let's just keep the lunch group small We'll save Tom and Connie for this evening. OK?”
Outside the abortion clinic, the four girls in the van were appalled to see that there were ten or twelve protestors on the sidewalk, kept in a roped-off area by two policemen. They had signs that read “Abortion Kills Babies” and “Abortion is Murder.”
As the van slowed to pull into the clinic driveway, one of the protestors broke away from the group and made it to the side of the van, shouting, “Please don't kill your babies. Adoption means life for them.” The girls blanched. Amy suddenly felt cold and wet. This was the real world. She wasn't a protected little girl any more. She was living the reality of decisions made. At barely seventeen, she was facing life and death. Her stomach started to churn. She and Susan both put their hands to their faces, to hide them.
“Oh, don't worry, they can't see you through the tinted glass,” said the driver. “And don't mind them. There's always a few of those crazy Christian fundamentalists here, illegally harassing our clinic. Nobody even notices them anymore.” But Amy did.
After the van had left school, Bobbie found an unused office in the PE department, which she presumed would be empty until lunch, at least. She put down her books, turned a chair around, knelt at it, and started to pray for Amy.
At the same time, Glenn Jamison knocked on Michael Andrews’ office door. As they had agreed the day before, these two men of God, one the pastor and one the youth leader at Morningside Church, knelt together and prayed for Amy.
All across the city, members of the Morningside Prayer Warrior team, alerted to the approximate time of the scheduled abortion, stopped whatever they were doing and prayed to God for Amy.
He heard. And, as He promised, He answered. Another angel flew down to the clinic. With the one stationed outside, the second entered the clinic to clean out any demons hiding inside. Nepravel cursed even louder as he saw the two lesser demons fleeing through the clinic sidewalls. Afraid that it might be too late, he nevertheless sent his companion to find Balzor and to ask for reinforcements against these two angels. They would not stop shouting praises to God, as their twin eagles’ heads searched the area around the clinic for more demons to crush.
Inside, Amy, Susan, and the two other girls were greeted by an efficient-looking nurse in a crisp white uniform. “Welcome to our pregnancy clinic,” she smiled warmly. “Everything is ready for you. Here are the forms for the two of you who are actually having procedures this morning. Please read them and fill them out. Then you will sign them when we have our brief interview. We start with your blood work. Patty—we use only first names here—you will be first. Amy, we have several procedure rooms, so the wait won't be long at all. Would you and your friend please have seats here, and you can fill out your forms while I interview Patty.”
Amy and Susan were left alone in the tastefully furnished waiting room. Amy quickly read through the forms, checked the appropriate boxes, and put down the clipboard. Like Susan, she tried to pick up a magazine, but she just couldn't focus on it.
All those people outside—she could still hear them shouting every now and then—just to try to stop girls like her. They seemed so serious. And Bobbie, crying over this baby—fetus—inside her. And Glenn Jamison, praying that day for her. Bobbie was even praying now. Maybe Glenn was too. Were all of them right? Could all of these people be so concerned if they weren't right?
Her hands suddenly became damp, and she felt lightheaded.
The voices planted by the demons had almost been silenced by all of the prayers. The angels had taken the area, and there were no demons to whisper in her ear or to spin the voices again. She started to think about the toddlers at the playground. Did she have the courage to have a baby? Could she do it? Imagine bringing a new life into the world! Her mom might understand after a few days, but what about her dad? What about Billy? What about her life? What a disruption. But surely the baby would be cute, and she could make some young married couple so happy. Maybe she could even visit the child some day….
At that moment the spiritual battle had been won by the prayers and by the angels. The demons had retreated. The voices were silenced. Amy was open to hearing and acting on the truth. But angels only rarely talk to humans. And Amy would not have recognized God's voice that morning because His Spirit did not live inside her. What Amy needed was another human being to talk to her. To listen to her new thoughts. To tell her the truth, again, now that the way was prepared for her to hear it. To tell her not only that abortion is murder, but also that God has the power to heal all of her concerns and all of her fears. But, tragically, there was no one. Bobbie had made the difficult decision to stay away. And Susan looked up from her magazine and asked, “Can you believe these new swimsuit colors?”
Just then the nurse came in again, smiled, and said, “All right, Amy, we're all set. It won't take long at all, and you'll be back at school. First please come with me, and we'll go over the forms. Then we'll do the procedure and you'll be on your way.” She held out her hand to Amy and smiled. Susan, trying to be supportive, stood up, walked over to Amy, and smiled courageously. Amy started to speak, but then didn't. Almost in a trance, balanced between her new thoughts and her previous commitments, Amy responded to the outstretched hand and the smiles, stood up, and followed the nurse into the procedure room.
After all the emotional turmoil of the previous weeks, the sleepless nights, the interviews, and the impossible decisions, the abortion itself was, for Amy, uneventful. There was some natural uneasiness in preparing for the procedure, and some discomfort once it began. She expected the few jabs of pain during the fifteen minutes that the cutter and suction pump ran, and she was not really surprised. In what seemed to Amy like a very brief time, the doctor and nurse announced that they were finished, and Amy was rolled into an observation room and made to sit up in a chair. Susan joined her after about fifteen minutes.
Of course the abortion was anything but uneventful for the baby boy whom Amy was carrying in her womb. The two angels on the roof of the clinic screamed in agony as the innocent child was torn apart below them. They flapped their massive wings and raised their mournful cries to heaven; but they had not been empowered to intervene on the human side, so they could do nothing more than writhe in pain at such inhumanity.
Soon the spirits of Amy's boy and of the baby girl being carried by the student from Riverside rose up through the clinic. Nepravel, whose fear for Amy's resolve had turned to utter joy upon seeing the agony of the angels, knew not to venture near them. Innocent children, both born and unborn, have a special place in God's kingdom when they die—they do not suffer the Judgment Seat, but instead are carried to heaven by angels. With these two angels already present, he knew the process would be quick. So he darted around them, just beyond the reach of their beaks and talons, gloating that once again the dark side had won the victory.
“They huff and they puff,” Nepravel laughed to himself, as the angels began to move off with their charges, “but in th
e end we always win! We are just too many for them, and we have too many human dupes and allies. How long before we control it all?” he yelled at them. He was ecstatic, and he made a mental note to embellish his own role in these events at their meeting that night.
While her daughter helped Amy abort her baby, Janet was sitting at her desk and going through a trial of her own—Richard's negative reaction to her need to work late on the special project gnawed at her during the entire morning. She, too, had been trying to mend their marriage the past several weeks, and it galled her that he would become so hostile over this one evening's work, even if it was a Friday. How many times in the past few months had he come home late, with little or no notice? Weren't her job and her responsibilities and her feelings just as important as his? Why did she have to put up with a double standard, when she had a respected position and was earning a good salary? The voices, restarted several days ago by Nepravel, were spinning well on their own now.
Although another voice tried to remind her of her earlier decision to discuss it later, the louder voices demanded that the wrong be righted while it was still fresh in their minds. So she dialed his number. When he answered, she let him know how unfair he had been and how she did not appreciate being treated as if he were the only one who was concerned for their marriage. “I don't appreciate the way you always arrange it that whatever problems we have are only because I have to work, when you are away as much or more than I am,” she concluded.
Richard had moved beyond his emotional reaction of the previous evening, and he had even admitted while driving in that morning that her assignment tonight was pretty important. He felt silly that he had reacted so strongly. But now she was attacking on a larger front, and he could not pass up the opportunity to let her know just how he felt in general about her job, since she brought it up.
On the Edge Page 16