by Judy Candis
Her eyes returned to her son. “Ramon, did they hurt you?”
“No, but they took Terrell away and never brought him back.”
Jael closed her eyes remembering the funny sound over the phone.
“Baby, don’t be scared. Momma’s going to get you out of this. Just keep saying the Twenty-third Psalm and this will all be over soon.”
“But Momma, I thought I’d never see you again!” he cried, ripping Jael apart inside with the sheer dismay in his voice. “It was so bad, so scary, I’ve done nothing but pray. But God hasn’t heard a word I’ve said.”
“No, baby, don’t think like that. God would never let us down.” But then the thought crossed her mind that she couldn’t really be sure what God wanted to happen to her and her son. Just because she believed in Him didn’t mean that He didn’t want this situation to play out, that this wasn’t in His great scheme of things and all for a higher purpose. How many martyrs had given their lives for Christ? Maybe God had a plan and she and her son were the sacrifices to perfect it. Terror instantly consumed her.
Just as quickly Jael banished the thought, recognizing it as a ploy of Satan to weaken her and make her give up the battle. Get thee behind me, Satan! Until the Lord told her otherwise, she would fight to the end.
“Ramon, can you move your hands at all?”
“I tried—it’s no good. Where’s Terrell? I’m so scared.”
“I know you are, honey, but just pray. God will get us out of this.”
“How? I’ve prayed and prayed ever since those strange men broke into the house. Why did this happen, Momma? How could God let this happen?”
Jael couldn’t condemn him for such thoughts, having just fought her own. But she had to believe God was in control. He had proven Himself time and time again, in so many ways. Weren’t all those small tests in her life meant to increase her faith and prepare her for this bigger one? And, dear Lord, wasn’t this the “biggie”! At each turn it seemed the adversary was one step ahead of them. No matter what she did, she couldn’t find the victory. Deliver me not over unto the will of mine enemies. Weren’t those King David’s very words in the 27th Psalm? She certainly knew the outcome there.
“Pray with me now, Ramon. The Lord is listening and ready to dispel His angels on our behalf. I believe this, baby, with all my heart. I know it’s scary, but God will not let us be destroyed or defeated by the hands of His enemies. Pray with me, honey. Dear Lord . . .”
“Dear Lord,” Ramon repeated in a small whimper. Then he softly recited each word his mother spoke. The shadows in the corners around them seemed to grow darker.
“We ask for your mercy and grace and that you look down upon your servants in their dark hour of need.”
Jael spoke while lying stone still, mustering every ounce of control she had as she struggled to breathe under the heavy, suffocating weight of panic.
“Rescue us, Father, from the hands of the enemy; exalt your holy presence by releasing us from the clutches of the adversary.”
Beads of sweat began forming on her body, attesting to the inner strain in her struggle to keep from being immobilized with fear. Her pulse raced. She focused on pulling air in and out of her lungs.
“Father, we glorify you and praise you even now in our weakest hour, for we know you are the one true God, the Creator of the universe and the master of all things. Hear us now, oh Lord, shield us with your mercy, protect us with your loving arms, fill our hearts, Father, with courage and—”
“Will you shut the hell up! Just shut your big-lipped, black mouths the hell up!”
Jael heard Ramon cry out as the harsh words were spoken. She looked over to see the Captain step inside the barn doors, his bulldog face a mask of fury. Wasn’t it just like the devil to detest words of worship, to interrupt prayer. The thought of this renewed her courage and she screamed at Captain Slater, glad to be able to direct her anger at something she could see.
“God hears the cries of the righteous! Having trouble dealing with the Almighty, Captain?”
“All that whining will do you no good. Your prayers are falling on deaf ears.” The Captain stepped closer. It was all she could do not to cringe away. “The true righteous will inherit the earth. We are the chosen of God.”
“And the devil knows scripture and how to twist it to his advantage,” Jael spit back.
“The Bible says that the pleas of sinners will not be heard, so quit your sniveling crap.”
“MY GOD, THE ONE TRUE GOD WILL PREVAIL!” Jael shouted. She refused to allow his arrogant confidence to replace hope with doubt. If she knew anything, she knew in the deepest part of her heart that when one prayed from the depths of his or her soul, crying out to the Lord, He did hear and did respond. This she would stake her life on. And it seemed she was going to have to do just that.
The Captain took another step forward, and Jael saw her son shrink back. “Oh yes, He will prevail,” the Captain barked. Then, raising his right hand and pointing his finger at her, he added. “But unfortunately for you, you’re on the wrong side. God has no connections with vile sinners such as yourselves.”
“How can you even allow the name of the Lord to cross your lips!” Anger bellowed in her voice. “Your truth is twisted and perverted and is a lie from the Father of lies. You are all spawns of the devil, serving him in your ignorance, pride and deluded self-importance.”
“Ha! Look who’s talking. It seems to me if God were listening to you, then I would be the one in your place and you would be holding me hostage. So, I guess whatever voodoo god you serve, it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, huh? Not working its magic right now, is it?”
“You are a liar from the pit of hell. You never intended to free my son.”
“Oh, here we go with that freedom crap. I can’t tell you how sick I was every time I had to look into your black face and hear you spout off about this or that.” A grin of pure malice crept onto his face. He folded his hands in front of him and rocked slightly on the heels of his feet. “That’s why so many of us have joined law enforcement. We get a legal permit to knock a few niggers upside the head.”
In his military garb he looked and behaved like a completely different person. Or was it that she was finally seeing the real man behind the mask? she wondered.
He continued in his confident manner, “I’m sure you thought Lieutenant Peterson falling ill three months before retirement was to your good fortune. You couldn’t wait to step in his shoes and strut around the station like the big-wheel nigger you already think you are. Well, that’s why my timing is so perfect. I couldn’t wait to get you out of my station. And believe me it will be a long time before another like you will ever have such authority again. I’ll see to that personally.”
“You’re wrong there, Captain.” She kept her gaze unwavering on his. “We are a mighty people from a proud heritage. It will take more than a few bigots like you to keep us back.”
Furious color flooded his face, stealing a bit of his arrogant pose. “Nigger, when we finish with this holy battle, all of you and your kind will be glad just to see another day. I promise this as Grand Dragon of the World Church of the Creator! We are at the crest of a new millennium, a new world order!”
Jael heard the madness in his voice. He had come to believe his own drivel. His eyes shone with the look of insanity of one who has long ago lost his mind. What lived in the darkest basement of his soul, only the Lord knew. And how he had fooled them all for so long, she couldn’t imagine.
“If you’re so smart, what sense did it make bringing me to your militia campsite? Who would believe my drug-crazed mind would send me to the very heart of your sick operations.”
“Oh, but that’s the really good part,” the Captain said. “You see, you forced me to go to plan B. Originally, we simply took the opportunity that presented itself to remove a few more niggers from the face of the earth, knowing most true American citizens would applaud the removal of a few drug dealers. Upton was more than glad
to be our champion. He was promised complete protection. But when you arrested him, well . . . I had to go to plan B. Remove Upton. He would have been too much of a risk. And why not kill two birds with one stone. That’s why you were ordered to have Upton released from the county jail. I knew you and your FBI agent would find a way to do it over my head. I had to play as if I didn’t like the idea so when things backfired on you guys, well, I could say how I was against it in the first place.”
“So why did you visit him at the jailhouse? To say good-bye?”
“No, rather to tell him there was going to be a change in plans—the cars would be switched. He loved that idea and was ready to get out.”
“What I still can’t understand is why you let Upton leave all the drugs and drug money behind in the first place. Didn’t you know that would tip off any smart officer that it wasn’t between the dealers?”
“We’re working for a higher power. Drugs and drug money are unclean gain. We don’t need it, nor will it be used for our cause.” Jael realized he didn’t understand how twisted this logic was. “How this all plays out is, after you learned Upton was involved in your son’s kidnapping, you went over my head with some harebrained scheme to get him out and have him lead you to your son. Once you found out your son was already dead, you killed Upton, and then in despair at the thought of getting caught and defaming your name, you killed yourself. As captain, I’ll lead the investigation. Everyone will know about your sad story.
“My sorrow about the whole matter will reach unprecedented levels. I might even take a few days off in mourning.” He was loving himself right now. “While our Mr. FBI Agent is trampling around following a decoy transmitter, this camp will be dismantled and relocated.”
Jael knew better than to give any hint that Grant was anywhere near the campsite. What was taking them so long, she couldn’t figure, but she had to stall for time.
“Why is it I never realized how really stupid you are,” Jael taunted. “I guess that ugly face of yours fooled a lot of people. And all this new world order bull has really warped your brains. It won’t be you guys running the planet, and you can bet on that!”
He glared at her with unmasked hatred. “Oh, and you think it may be some big-nosed niggers! Don’t make me laugh. All of you are just a bunch of no-good, low-life slime. All that brother crap y’all talk about is hyped-up bull. As a matter of fact, it was one of your own nigger ‘brothas’ that told us where we could find the dealers’ hangouts in the first place. For a crappy hundred dollars he told Upton everything, rattling on like a fool, then taking off in fear when the dealers he’d snitched on started dropping dead like flies. As captain of the Dadesville Police Department, I didn’t need much more anyway. I had all your reports and all the narcotics target reports to know who was who. I only needed exact times when the scum would be at the locales. But I can always count on you people to sell out your own kind. It’s how you all are. And why I’m glad to play such a major part in God’s delivery of people like you.”
“I pray God have mercy on your soul, Captain. Because if He doesn’t, you and your followers will surely bust hell wide open.”
“I have no more time to quibble with you. Say good-bye to your son. This will be the last time either of you will see each other alive.”
The Captain laughed and backed away, moving toward the huge double wooden doors, the only entrance or exit to the building. Reaching down beside it, he picked up a bright red metal can. Turning to give her a final pleased sneer, he began pouring the golden liquid from the can around the bottom edge of the door. “Oh, and by the way, for some unknown reason, you set the place on fire before putting a gun inside your mouth and blowing your brains out. That’s a little security measure on our part. So, stay comfy. One of my men will be back to wrap things up before you burn too badly. For now, it’s back to work, trying to locate you and what you’ve done with the suspect.”
The Captain erupted in gleeful laughter filled with triumph and self-satisfaction as he exited the door. Just outside the door, a car’s engine was running, and Jael caught a quick glimpse of Tammy’s frosted blond hairstyle behind the wheel before the captain slammed the barn door shut.
As the gasoline fumes hit her with a nauseating impact, she heard Ramon begin to pray earnestly. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want . . .”
Having nothing else to cling to, she also realized that God was at his best when man had nothing in the natural to rely on.
“. . . He maketh me to lay down in green pastures, He leadeth me beside the still waters . . .”
Hearing her son praying, Jael used the words as a cloak of protection and strength, as she stretched her neck to look around for something to help them escape. She had to break free, and knew God counted on her to use the wisdom and knowledge He’d instilled in her over the years when she’d handled other dangerous situations.
Though the room was dark, Jael was able to make out the shape of something that looked like an old wheelbarrow against the far wall to her left. Twisting her body in that direction, she pushed herself to the edge of the bed. Her heart thundered as she shifted her weight to the side. Dear Lord, help me, please!
Sucking in a deep breath, she swung herself over onto the floor. Her body hit with a loud thud, knocking the air from her lungs.
“Momma!”
She squeezed her eyes shut to still the dizziness, and forced out the words her son needed to hear from her lips. “I’m okay, honey, hush now.” But she was far from okay—the impact of the fall had ravaged her body. She steadied herself to get her breath back, but knew there was little time for even that.
The floor was cold beneath her face, and the smells of old hay and the gasoline almost made her choke. Rolling over onto her back, she used her elbows to push herself backward in the direction of the wheelbarrow. Her shoulder screamed in agony with each move. Jael twisted her head backward as far as she could, and from the bottom of the old wheel she could just make out a small gleam reflecting on the barrow’s blade. Pushing closer, then squinting her eyes, Jael saw that it was a John Deere plow-blade, used to cut grass.
With every ounce of strength she had, she pushed up to the plow and pressed her tied wrist against the blade’s edge. Over the years it had rusted badly, but Jael kept sawing at it until she felt the first strings of the rope give.
“I can’t hear you, Ramon,” she called out. “Pray louder.”
She sawed at the rope as Ramon’s weak and tired voice rose to an audible volume. Twice the rusted blade cut into her skin, but Jael never stopped, whispering her own words of prayer.
When the rope finally gave, it was so unexpected she fell back against the blade, ripping the right shoulder of her blouse and probably leaving a gash in her flesh. Quickly spinning her body around, she raised her legs to press the rope around her ankles against the blade. This time the maneuver was much easier, the rope not as tight. Ripping through the treads of the first layer loosened the binding, and instantly she was on her feet, running back to her son.
“Thank you, Jesus,” she cried as she pulled him into her arms, smothering him with hugs and kisses. The two cried together for a moment; then Jael untied his hands and grabbed him again.
She untied the rope around his legs and managed to get him to his feet. “Come on, baby, we’ve got to get out of here.”
“I can barely stand,” he said, falling back onto the cot.
“I know, sweetheart.” She held him close and stroked his hair. “But we have to move quickly.”
“But what about Terrell? Where is he?”
Jael prayed her expression gave nothing away. “I’m sure he’s okay. Let me get you out of here and then I’ll search for him.”
She pulled him to his feet, and once he was steady held on to his hand as she raced them toward the double doors. She released Ramon’s hand and pulled at the door handle, even though she expected it would be locked. It was. She shook and hammered on it. Ramon joined in, shouting for someone to
let them out.
Stepping back, she looked around for something to pry between the door hinges. Then she noticed, to her right, an old sagging door, probably to an inside storage shed. Jael raced to it, yanked it open, then screamed.
There on the floor of the shed, atop what she supposed was a lump of stored hay, was Jasper. He still wore the clothes she’d last seen him in at his house. His arms hung limply at his side, his sunken cheeks were hollowed holes of waxlike skin, and the teal-blue eyes that had spoken so much that day now held only a lifeless, empty gaze.
Jael stared down at Jasper’s white face, frozen in death. There were no visible signs of a struggle, no cuts, blood or anything else to label the cause of death—only the tossed-off white sheet beside him that could possibly prove later to have been a weapon of suffocation. Judging by the stage of rigor mortis, he had been dead six to eight hours. He had sacrificed his own safety by telling them what he had, and it had ricocheted back as he had feared, causing his demise. Jael whispered a silent prayer that God would know this man had fought evil the only way he knew how.
When Ramon raced to her side to see what had caused her to cry out, she roughly shoved him back behind her, not wanting him to witness the awful sight.
Behind her Ramon began praying at the top of his lungs. Jael could hear the strangle of tears mingled in. “. . . YEA, THOUGH I WALK THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH, I SHALL FEAR NO EVIL, FOR THOU ARE WITH ME. . . .”
Backing away and offering her own prayers of salvation, she thought she heard a sound issue from the victim just before she shut the door. She could have sworn the man was dead, but leaned forward to take a second look. Jael immediately leaped backward as the dead body fell to the side.
A dazed and terrified Terrell stared up at her, his eyes filled with fear and the horror of lying for so long in the darkened shed. The Lord only knew how long he’d been there under Jasper’s dead corpse.