Deliverance from Evil

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Deliverance from Evil Page 24

by Michael Cross


  I did not want to use my own phone since I was not entirely sure I wanted anyone to know I was the one calling. I figured I could just hang up if I chickened out at the last minute. I decided to call my home number first. As I punched in the number I took a deep breath and wondered what I was supposed to say when Matt answered. It rang…and I wondered if I should just forget it, but I let it ring again. Then someone picked it up! “Hello, who is this?” The voice was that of a little boy – my son Alex! I merely asked, “Is your daddy home?” He answered in his sweet and innocent voice, “He is in the bathroom and mommy is making breakfast.” I froze... then asked, “Mommy?” He was not even three years old yet so he just said what was on his mind, “I sick today. I slept in Mommy and Daddy’s bed last night. Want to speak to Mommy?” I did not know what to say to my son. I felt tears coming though. Then someone took the phone – Nicole. I could hear her thank my son for answering and then I heard her voice, “Hello?” I hesitated and then hung up the phone without responding.

  I did not care who saw me at that moment as I broke down and cried. I tried to pull myself together, but I could not. I took the bag and walked to the elevator and then rushed to my room. Burying my head in my pillow I continued to cry. The feeling that I had been replaced so quickly in my son’s life devastated me. Any feelings of love for Nicole at that very moment were replaced by the hate that can only exist when one feels betrayed. How could she steal my family? I mean I had actually been the one who wanted her to be more integrated in my family, even suggesting on many occasions that she could share Matt’s love and intimacy. Yet my idea of a polyandrous adult relationship model was never meant to extend to her creating a motherly bond with my children! They were mine, not to be shared with anyone but Matt. And even in regards to Matt and Nicole I always assumed I was going to be the alpha female and calling the shots in regards to how things would be arranged. It seemed all my ideas the little ritual of burning the names of my family, and being able to just forget them, was not as easy as Bethany had thought. I was in pain, but I had to do my best to repress what was hurting me.

  As I waited alone in the room I tried to make sense of everything – what damage Vincent had done to my family as well as what my course should be in the future. I walked over to the mirror and looked at myself and realized, I was only twenty six years old. Maybe the best way to deal with all this mess really was just to start over. Maybe that would be best for everyone. And as I contemplated putting my past behind me my rage seemed to subside, especially when I realized that Matt and Nicole had thought it was me who had abandoned them. I was still upset, but it was more over circumstances, not with Nicole really. And who knows, maybe this was all meant to happen anyway – maybe this was God’s way of making sure I was not in my children’s lives.

  Yet that thought seemed to make it all the easier to examine who I had been all my life and who I wanted to be. And who did I want to be? I really had no clue anymore. Maybe that meant I could use the next few years to find out, to explore and maybe even indulge. Vincent had burnt my bridges to the past, so now I could chart a new course; and at least with Bethany there at my side I would not have to be lonely while on my journey.

  I stuffed my phone and charger in my purse and indulged myself in another long, luxurious shower session. Bethany returned with some sandwiches just as I finished dressing. I asked her, “What did the doctor say? Did you get a new prescription?” She answered, “Yes he gave me the pills.” She quickly changed the subject, “Grab your purse! I’d like to get to the bank as soon as possible.”

  On the way to the bank I asked if Bethany, “Are you sure we can’t be tracked by the police if we sign a bank document? Can’t the in some way connect Bethany Purvis to Vincent Elkington? And if I co-sign with my real name…” She interrupted me with a loud laugh. She insisted, “I used to have a post office box only for mail from the motor vehicles office. Vincent wanted me to have a fake identity only for that and medicine so in case the Elkingtons ever had to make a get-away. And as for you…the police aren’t after you for any crime.” All of this seemed so ironic. Vincent had been killed by me, blown up by Bethany and all his planning had done was provide us protection from ever getting caught.

  We went to the bank and filled in all the paperwork for the largest of their safety deposit boxes. I was a bit nervous when they punched in my license number into the computer. I waited…then the woman handed my license back to me and then gave us instructions for being able to have access to the contents, bank hours and the like. Then the woman asked us an unexpected question, “Do either of you wish to list a third party as a beneficiary in the event something happened to you both?” Bethany immediately asked, “Will they be contacted by the bank for anything if nothing actually does happen to us?” The woman said, “No. They are beneficiaries but have no rights to access whatever contents you leave with us.” Bethany surprised me, “You know one can never be sure. One day you are driving along and a drunk driver crosses into your lane and that’s the end. Jennifer, I mean Melanie, why don’t you put Matt’s name and contact information down?” I was both surprised by such a nice gesture and her calling me by my real name. After we obtained our keys and deposited the money we left the building. Before I could ask anything Bethany embraced me and said, “Sorry for calling you Melanie but your driver’s license has your old name on it. We don’t need to raise any suspicions.” As she released me I asked, “Why did you want Matt as the beneficiary?” She shook her head, “Just in case we did die in a car wreck at least your little kids will get the money. I would hate the government to get its filthy hands on it.”

  When we got into the car Bethany opened her purse and pulled out a stack of money and asked, “How much do you want?” I shook my head and she merely separated it down the middle and handed me what turned out to be five thousand dollars! I only had the little purse I had bought the night before but I still managed to stuff the money into it, while she stuffed her purse as well. She then took one of the keys and said, “Here you go! You know, just in case I was to drop dead or something.”

  When I started the engine I asked, “So what are our plans?” She took out the bottle of pills she had obtained earlier and seemed lost in thought. I waited a moment. Suddenly she replied, “Oh I’m sorry. I wanted to see when I needed to take my next dosage. Tell you what, why don’t we stay here and catch up on our rest? We can decide where to set out to after that.” I was open to her suggestion. When we returned to our room Bethany read the room brochure and commented, “They seem to have a great pool here. Why don’t you try it out? I’m not really into a swim but I can buy a book and read join you by the poolside.” I noted, “It sounds wonderful but I don’t have a swimming suit.” She shook her head, “I don’t think there’s a problem. According to this you can buy something at one of the hotel shops.”

  We went down to the lobby and checked out the apparel shop. Initially I began to check out the more athletic looking styles but Bethany gently tugged on my arm, “You aren’t thinking of competing in a sporting event are you? Get something more daring.” I shook my head, “I’m not sure I…” She interrupted, “Sure of what? You are young and beautiful. Someday you’ll be my age. Don’t make the mistake of looking back and wishing you had lived life differently.” She held up a bikini that looked more suited for the beaches of Rio than for a hotel pool in Idaho. It appeared to be my size though, and Bethany urged me to buy it. I looked it over and, perhaps on impulse, went ahead and took it to the cashier. I marveled that this bikini cost me more than any other I had ever bought, yet contained less than half the fabric. No, it was not a thong, but came pretty close to it.

  When we went to the pool Bethany sat down and to read a magazine while I jumped in and started doing some laps. It was harder to swim for distance than I had remembered from the last time I had been to a pool. Perhaps I might consider cutting back on my new addiction, which was probably wreaking havoc on my lungs; but I could do that in the future I supposed
.

  After a few more laps I got out and sat on the recliner next to hers. I asked if she had thought anymore about where we should go and she said that maybe we should go to Wyoming – she had not been there for many years and she thought it might be fun to travel east to catch some authentic west. She suggested we load up on some groceries and leave Boise the next day. She said we would be in Salt Lake by dinner and then who knows? She repeated, “We are just a couple of fun-loving women with no deadlines, no constraints, just the freedom of the open road.”

  Chapter 15

  I pulled the drapes back immediately after jumping out of bed. That morning the sun was bright and the sky was an unusually intense blue. I really looked forward to setting out – much the same way a child, filled with a sense of adventure might. I was totally swept away by the idea that I would be travelling to places I had never seen and able to experience a new way of living. I still had some thoughts going through my mind about Matt and Nicole, and the tragedy of how such a seemingly perfect life had been forever destroyed by Vincent. However, I decided my focus should be on this day and what was to come in the future, and not dwell on the past.

  When we checked out, and walked outside to the car, it felt chilly outside. Bethany commented, “Autumn is in the air. Maybe we should stop and get ourselves some jackets in Salt Lake.” I regretted the end of summer. I imagined the many fun things Bethany and I could have done if the weather were warmer. Of course, there was always next summer – and there were still a few days left of this season. I was intent on enjoying it while it lasted.

  On the highway Bethany started looking through my CDs. She commented, “The covers seem like scenes from horror movies.” In defence I said, “Perhaps but the music is really awesome! Would you like me to put something on?” She shook her head, “On that I think I’ll respectfully decline. Would it be okay if I find some easy-listening station on the radio?” I did not like that style of music, but I nodded and gave her the go ahead to find something she liked instead.

  Bethany seemed totally at ease as we drove out of Boise. She said she would teach me how to do some “serious” quilting in the winter and then she blurted out, “No! I forgot to pack the quilt I gave you!” I laughed, “I didn’t. It’s wrapped in the same plastic bag as the teddy bear. She was greatly relieved to hear that it had not been left. And as strange as it might sound, I was actually looking forward to her teaching me to sew creations as beautiful as the quilt.

  On that day, travelling through desert, the scenery was only slightly more interesting than the expanses I had experienced with Vincent in Nevada. As we headed for Utah there were river gorges cut through the desert and lined with trees. I fantasized about exploring these little oasis-like areas. There were also farms and ranches along the roads that probably dated back to pioneer days. However, Bethany made it even more interesting by opening up more about her history with Vincent up to her giving birth and then skipping to what she called “the transformation.” I wondered how she would have felt if she knew the whole story however – how his ultimate goal was to let her die and I become his companion instead. She would never have to endure that knowledge though.

  Her early years were fascinating to hear about; how she had been totally captivated by Vincent’s charm and commitment to his religion. She had felt he was perfect, that he could do no wrong, and she had wanted to be with him for eternity. She described how wonderful a father he had been and how blessed they felt with “me.” Suddenly she asked, “Please pull over a moment Melanie.” Fortunately there was a rest-stop coming up. I pulled in and she got out and began to cry. I rushed over to hold her. She regained her composure, “Vincent didn’t die two days ago. He died over two decades ago. For all I know his soul departed the day you were killed as well. Maybe the real Vincent sent you back to me to be born into the woman who was lucky enough to be your mother. Do you think that is possible?” It was strange to insert myself into her fantasy but I held her tight, “Maybe! Who knows for sure about these things?” She replied, “It’s the only thing I can think of. He shifted in all respects. He hated people and he was angry with God. I even became part of his evil.”

  I then asked, out of a desire to compare her descent into taking life to my own, “What was it like…you know, to kill over and over again?” She took my hand and led me over to some large rocks we could sit on. She sighed, “At first I was on auto-pilot, willing to do anything Vincent said as long as it was his desire. He convinced me we would be doing God’s work and that someone had to do it since the government was corrupt and unwilling to protect the innocent. He promised we could make sure nobody else experienced the tragedy that we had gone through… finding our little girl covered in blood.” She looked around as if to make sure nobody could hear her, “We saw ourselves as modern-day destroying angels sent to do a mission – to help rid the world of evil. Yet one night we messed up and I burnt an innocent woman to death. The screams…” She began to cry again. I comforted her until she looked me in the eye and asked, “You know how old she was? She was only 16 years old. Yeah, I heard that on the news. I had caused the same grief in another mother’s life that I had been subjected to!” She again paused but this time looked out on the prairie scenery, “I knew Vincent was the strong one so I let him go about killing bad people after that. I knew he would be careful to protect the innocent. Maybe it was God’s justice that when he killed those two people in the basement it was time for him to be stopped. Maybe you were the instrument in God’s hands to make sure the only innocent people he would ever kill would be them and after that he would never harm anyone else; not to mention saving my life in the process.”

  I gained far deeper insights into the dynamics of Bethany and Vincent. This poor woman had thought that Vincent continued finding and eradicating criminals. Despite his antagonism to God he was still a super-hero taking on the villains that plagued society, while in reality he had allowed his hate and loathing of God to propel him into becoming a monster far more vicious than the people they once had set out to eliminate. And what an irony…she had not only carried the guilt of the accidental taking of an innocent life with her all these years, but had suffered under the false assumption that she was the flawed one, unable to do her part to support her husband in his “valiant” quest to right the wrongs of life. It was no wonder she had created an elaborate fantasy to live in.

  As we sat there Bethany took off her shoes and began to gently rub her toes around the brightly colored pebbles covering the ground. As she seemed lost in thought I again wondered to myself… could I and Mark, had we ever been able to marry have wound up like that someday? I doubted it but still, I felt a relief that I had never exposed Matt to his brother’s dark activity. What if, despite all the best intentions, the eventual destiny of any people united to undertake killing as the means of righting the wrongs in society was to become the darkness they had sought to eliminate? Nicole was heading down that path a few years earlier after all. Had the events that changed her life, my almost taking her life, had not occurred could she and I have been driving on the road today looking for victims, as Vincent had done for so many years?

  Bethany interrupted my thoughts by asking, “Those two people in the basement…do you know if they the only good people Vincent killed?” It mattered nothing to the countless victims of Vincent’s cruelty what I said so I assured Bethany, “They were the only ones. Vincent told me that after he killed them.” Bethany sighed and said, “At least he did a lot of good all of those years. I have to believe something took possession of him to kill them and to want to kill me. You are lucky things turned out the way they did or else we both might have died at his hands.”

  For the next several hours of driving, including stops for lunch and bathroom breaks, the topic shifted from Vincent to that of her dream of buying a ranch. The closer we got to Salt Lake the more she would take notice of exits that appeared to lead to little towns off in the mountains; and she wondered if those might be the kind of pl
aces we could live someday. Then she saw a sign advertising Temple Square and said she had never visited there before and asked if we could tour. I replied,” Okay…sure.” I declined to tell her that it made me somewhat nervous; I was worried that I might run into one of Matt’s large extended family who could recognize me. The chance was remote, but having been married to a Mormon one becomes all too aware that Utah is sort of the second home for them and their families. So going there would be like taking Bethany to the mall in Portland – only a remote chance of running into someone I knew, but far greater than if we were anyplace else.

  When we finally arrived in Salt Lake we found a nice hotel and got settled in our room. Bethany was anxious to take the tour of the historic square but before I would leave I decided to put on so much makeup that nobody could recognize me in my disguise. By the time I was finished I really did look like a hooker, but I was confident that nobody would suddenly yell out, “Hey, Melanie, is that you?” I was proud of my accomplishment but I wished we had stopped and bought a jacket first. I had put on a top that was a little less revealing than what I had been wearing the past few days but my tummy was still exposed. Yet when I adjusted my outfit to make sure my new navel piercing was quite visible I realized right then and there I was no longer the person I thought I always knew. I was someone entirely different, yet part of me still felt slightly uneasy with this little tour idea.

  When Bethany started rushing me to get going I asked if we could stop at a store and pick up a jacket. She laughed, “It’s nearly 80 degrees outside! Who wears a jacket when it’s that hot? Besides, it’s getting late and we can do that in the morning, okay?” She did not understand that I merely wanted to cover up a little not because I was cold or out of any concern over modesty, but because I knew the way many people here might react. Ironically since I liked people in Matt’s family, I did not really want to make others from his culture uncomfortable. Yet I gave in to Bethany while not admitting to her that I was slightly uncomfortable.

 

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