Sotare nodded slowly.
“It is a war between good and evil. And if we are not prepared and aware, we become vulnerable, even defenseless.”
Mark gazed into the fading light of the evening and saw softly swaying shadows of gray shift beneath the plants. He looked at Sotare.
“I want to do what is right. Teach me. Teach me what I need to know. I don’t care what it costs or how difficult it is.” His voice was emphatic.
Although Sotare was an angel and did not need to breathe, he slowly let out a sigh, nodded, and smiled faintly as he looked back into Mark’s eyes.
“May I touch your eyes again?” asked Sotare.
Mark paused for a moment.
His heart had softened. “Of course,” he said calmly.
Sotare stood up and placed his right hand over Mark’s eyes and his left hand on the back of his head and then lowered them. Mark found himself in Pastor Tim’s church on Sunday morning. John and Kathy were sitting in the pew and there was a man in the pulpit, the pastor. From the rear of the church another man entered. He had a mask and a gun and began to walk towards the front. The pastor was speaking, and it appeared that he was introducing Kathy to the congregation. She stood up as the gunman raised his weapon. Sotare removed his hands from Mark’s eyes and the vision stopped.
Mark bolted up. “No!” he exclaimed loudly. “No!”
“Go to her,” said Sotare.
Mark was taken aback. “I thought you said I had to stay in the garden.”
“I did, but now it is time for you to go. You’re supposed to go.” Sotare handed him a piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
“The church’s address.”
Surprised, Mark looked at the angel. “What about you? Will I see you again?”
Sotare smiled. “Go to her. She is going to need you.”
Mark didn’t like that. “Is she going to be okay?”
Sotare said nothing. He just stared at him. Mark tried to read Sotare’s blank face.
“I should call the police and warn them,” said Mark.
“And what would you tell them? Are you going to let them know that you had a vision? Or maybe you could try to convince them that you know there’s going to be a gunman in the church tomorrow. The police would want to know how you know, what your involvement would have been. Remember, as far as anyone knows you’ve been having serious problems at work and are on a much-needed vacation due to emotional stress. It wouldn’t look good for you to call the police and say a gunman is going to shoot someone. You might even be implicated.”
“Implicated? Implicated in what?”
Sotare didn’t answer.
Mark was obviously agitated. He forced himself to remain calm as he looked at Sotare.
“Am I supposed to go alone?”
Sotare looked at him again with the same enigmatic expression and remained silent.
“All right,” Mark broke the silence. “I’ll run upstairs and get some clothes and head to the airport.”
“Drive,” said Sotare.
Mark stared at his teacher. Sotare knew things he did not and arguing with him would only waste time.
“All right, if I hurry, I can be there early in the morning.” He started walking towards the house. As he went, he remarked, “I’ll call Kathy and let her know I’m coming.”
“No,” said Sotare. “Don’t call her. Don’t let her know.”
Mark stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around quickly and frowned, his agitation finally getting the best of him. “Why not?” he asked.
Sotare said nothing and vanished.
Mark stared into the emptiness, feeling suddenly alone, and angry. Sotare’s abrupt departure was unsettling, especially with his instruction not to call Kathy. He didn’t like being kept in the dark. But it didn’t matter. He’d go to her as fast as he could.
He turned around and headed towards the house. As he left the garden, he thought about Nabal at the top of the tree. He stopped and took one last glance upward...
Above him, looking down through eyes filled with loathing was Nabal. Mark was looking right at the creature without knowing it. Turning, he hurried into the house.
Nabal slowly opened its wings. In one slow, massive movement it allowed itself to fall forward and downward into the ground below. The slave demon followed fearfully.
***
John and Kathy arrived at his house without incident. He exited the car slowly and with a few grunts he managed to punctuate a few painful movements. Kathy carefully helped him plod up the few steps to the front door, opened it, and let him in.
“Boy, it’s good to be home,” he exhaled noisily. “But I have to get inside and call Pastor Tim.” John had not told her about his vision. She would probably think he was losing his mind.
Kathy closed the door and quickly walked to the couch, making sure that the pillows were in the right position for John. She put the remote control within arm’s reach and turned back toward her father, who was standing behind her.
“I see you didn’t have any wild parties while I was gone,” he said. “That’s good.” He was trying to be lighthearted as he slowly lowered himself to the couch, trying not to let his expression reflect the decreasing but still-present pain still jousting with his side.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked.
“No, thanks. You’ve done enough already. Why don’t you just sit down and relax?”
“I think I will, but first, I need to call Mark. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I’ll call Pastor Tim while you’re talking to him.”
Kathy disappeared into the kitchen. She retrieved her cell phone from her purse and dialed Mark.
John reached for the phone on the end table by the couch.
At home Mark was quickly gathering some clothes and putting them in a small suitcase. He knew he wouldn’t need much and he wanted to get to his wife quickly. The phone rang. He briefly toyed with the idea of not answering it before walking over to pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, honey, it’s me. How are you doing?”
Hearing from Kathy was unexpectedly precious. “I’m doing fine,” he said, as he closed his eyes.
“Are you sure? Are you sure things are okay?” She was unknowingly projecting her own anxiety onto him.
“Yes, I’m doing very well. This time alone has been surprisingly helpful.” Mark knew that was quite an understatement.
Kathy wasn’t as convinced as she wanted to be, but she continued. “Dad is out of the hospital. We just got home. He’s getting better fast, and I hope to come home as soon as I feel he’s well enough to manage by himself.”
For a moment Mark hoped that she might be able to leave tonight. He wanted to tell her to leave now, to get away. But he knew that he was supposed to be there just as much as he knew that trying to warn her was not the right thing to do. “Can you come home tonight?” he said obligatorily, even though he knew it wasn’t practical.
“Oh, no. It’s too late for that. And besides, I don’t feel comfortable leaving him alone just yet. I mean, he just got out of the hospital. Maybe in a day or two I can come home. I don’t want to abandon him just yet. But I really want to be there with you.” She paused.
“Me, too,” he said as he continued to pack.
“I know that you say you’re doing well, and you sound as though you are, but I’m still a little worried and am anxious to see you. Are you sure you’re doing okay?”
“Kathy, you know that I wouldn’t lie to you. In all seriousness, I’m doing well. Really. In fact, I’m doing a lot better than you might think.” Mark entertained the idea of telling her about Sotare but, of course, he couldn’t.
Kathy knew his voice. His reassurance seemed genuine. “Good,” she responded. “That makes me feel better.”
Mark wanted desperately to confide in her, but it wasn’t the right time.
“Dad is doing so well. The doctor was really surprised at how fast h
e is healing. Now, you know I’m not into any of this God stuff, but maybe all the prayers from the church and the pastor have helped.”
Mark froze. “Maybe,” said Mark, staring out the bedroom window. “I’ve heard that it does.”
“Yeah, me too. Well, it’ll be interesting tomorrow at church. I know that my dad will want to go so I’ll have to endure it with him because I don’t want him to drive right now.”
Mark felt the ache of fear rise in his heart. He did not want her to go, yet he couldn’t tell her not to do so. It wouldn’t make any sense, and it would undermine her confidence that he was doing better. It suddenly made more sense to him why Sotare had told him not to call her. On the other hand, she had called him. Still, he knew that the only real option he had was to get to her. Should he tell her that he was on his way? He thought about it for a moment while she spoke about her dad’s recovery. He threw in the few statements like, “That’s great” and “Uh-huh,” but his focus was more on getting to her than her words.
Once he showed up at the church tomorrow, she would want to know why he hadn’t mentioned that he was coming. He figured that all he would have to say is that he wanted to surprise her. Besides, she would know soon enough when he told her everything, whenever that would be.
He turned back to the conversation. “Anyway, the pastor seems to be a nice guy, but I’m still not looking forward to going to Dad’s church tomorrow. He needs me, so I’ll go. But I really don’t want to. I guess it won’t be that bad.”
“It might be good for you,” he said in a happy tone.
“What? Are you finding religion during your vacation?”
He froze with her question and changed the subject.
“I really am looking forward to seeing you soon.”
“Me, too.”
They chatted a little longer until John appeared in the kitchen behind Kathy. “I’m going to make myself something to eat,” he said. “You hungry?”
“Hold your horses, Dad. Just go back to the living room and I’ll fix you something.” She made a hand movement towards the living room. John went to open the refrigerator but Kathy intercepted him and gently slapped his hand.
“You’re serious,” he said.
“You bet.” She turned him around and gently nudged him out of the kitchen. “I have to get going, Mark. Dad is getting hungry.”
“Okay, I understand. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She hung up the phone and followed her dad into the living room. She stopped just past the kitchen door, and with a fake, irritated tone, she asked, “Okay, what would you like to eat?”
Mark sat staring at the phone and looked out the window into the garden. He wondered where Sotare and Nomos were. For that matter, he thought to himself, Where is Nabal?
***
Pastor Tim sat at his desk, trying to recover from John’s phone call regarding his vision. It was upsetting, to say the least. But what did it mean? Was there really going to be a gunman in the church or was it symbolic of the spiritual battle that he was under? There was a gentle knock at the door. His wife stuck her head in. “Dinner time.”
“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” He returned his attention to John’s vision. Dread and apprehension flowed into his heart. He thought about the sermon, about spiritual warfare, about how the invisible battle around him was so very real. Perhaps John’s vision was nothing more than an attempt by the enemy to stop him from preaching. It was certainly a possibility.
Tim tapped his fingers on his desk and thought about tomorrow’s message, about how society offered so many distractions with its promotion of sexuality, moral relativism, the killing of the unborn, evolution, and an increasing irreverence towards anything sacred. There were far too many politicians with no moral fiber who seemed more interested in self-gain, power, and popular opinion than in showing character in the service of the people. He considered the liberal and anti-Christian agenda that was flowing through the schools and universities, and how the denial of absolute truth was undermining rationality and ethics. These were some of the points of his sermon, but he was also going to speak about the demonic and angelic realms and how the spiritual forces were at work undercutting decency and goodness in the world as well as in the Christian church. It would make sense that such a sermon would be opposed by the demonic realm and the forces of darkness would be dispatched to hinder him.
He slapped his hand down on the desk lightly and determined to preach the truth no matter what. His message had the potential to be depressing, but people needed to hear it. He remembered an adage he heard in seminary: The gospel that offends no one is not the Gospel of the Bible.
He needed to preach the Word of God with conviction and without compromise. As he thought about the many false preachers that have done damage to the faith, he became more convinced of the need to speak the truth, no matter what the cost.
He looked over at his Bible and thought about the cross of Christ and what Jesus went through, how his teaching the truth and standing for it got him killed. Was he willing to do the same? Was he willing to speak the truth to that degree? He hoped he was.
He knew that tomorrow was an important day. Maybe the gunman would be real. Or maybe it was a symbol. He didn’t know. Should he call the police and have someone there tomorrow? What would he say? Would he tell them that an old man who just got out of a hospital had a vision and that he was afraid? That would fly like a ton of bricks.
He drew the Bible near him and touched it to his lips. He closed his eyes. “I will do whatever you want me to, Lord. Let my life be for you. I trust you. I ask for protection tomorrow and that you would give me the strength to speak your word in truth and power. In you alone I put my trust. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
He sat quietly for a couple of minutes before setting his Bible down. His wife was waiting, so he headed out to the dining room.
Outside his office window, demons sat, watching him.
***
Mark was hurriedly gathering a few items for his trip. He was reviewing what he would tell Kathy when he got there. Telling her that an angel had given him a vision in the garden wouldn’t sound like he was fully anchored in reality, so that was out. He decided not to worry about it now. Besides, he’d have plenty of time to think during the drive. He did not know what was going to happen when he got there, but the more he thought about it, the more agitated and desperate he became. He shoved shirts and pants into his suitcase along with some socks and underwear. He grabbed a toothbrush and shaving items, tossing them in as well. He checked his cell phone, got his charger, and headed downstairs to find some snacks to munch on the way. He wanted to stop as infrequently as possible.
Inside the garage, three demons were kneeling inside the engine compartment of his car. Each of them had its hands directed towards one particular area. They were almost motionless.
Mark entered the garage, swatted at the garage door opener, opened the car door, and tossed his suitcase in the backseat before getting in. The demons did not look away from their task. Instead, their effort became all the more intense. Mark inserted the key into the ignition, turning it. Nothing happened. He groaned aloud and said, “Crap!” as he hit the steering wheel. “Come on, start!” he yelled as he turned the key once more. Again nothing. At that point, the demons all stood up and moved away. Mark instinctively tried one more time and the car started easily. He turned the engine off and restarted it two more times. It ran perfectly. The thought occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, some demonic force was involved. He had no idea if it was true or not and he wondered if he was just paranoid, but he couldn’t help thinking about it. He sat there for a second and then thought, I should pray. Surprising him, it made sense. The only problem was he didn’t know how.
“God,” he began aloud. “I don’t know how to do this.”
One of the demons jumped upward, rising through the rafters as it beat its wings. The other two growled at Mark, and one spat at him.
“All I know is that I have been wrong about a lot of things and that…” he paused and looked around. He thought he heard something. To the side of the car, one demon remained, hissing ferociously at him. Dislocating its jaws, it screamed out a growl, fangs showing. Opening its wings wide, it leaned forward with its fists clenched. In the spiritual world its hissing was loud and formidable, and Mark, surprisingly, heard a faint noise. He looked around. The creature stopped. Mark decided to close his eyes. “God, please protect me and my wife and keep me safe as I travel. Teach me what you want me to know. Amen.” The demon fled.
He put the car in reverse and carefully backed out. He closed the garage door with a click of the remote and was on his way.
***
As the evening drew to a close, John and Kathy finished their casual conversation over dinner. John was fading fast. He was going to retire early. Kathy thought she would stay up for a little while. After John went to bed, she turned on the TV. She was a bit nervous and apprehensive, and looked around the room once just to be sure there was nothing there.
Sotare stood in the living room. Nomos was hovering above the house and they could see each other through the rafters. Kathy propped her feet up on the coffee table and snuggled down between two oversized pillows positioned on the corner of the couch. To her right was an end table with a lamp. She clicked through the channels with the remote and thought about going home. She missed Mark.
Sotare moved close and stood next to her behind the couch.
There wasn’t much to see on TV except a couple of war movies, a cooking show, and some documentaries. The news was depressing. She clicked past a shopping channel and a game show that had an overly exuberant blonde jumping up and down. She clicked another channel but each program was as boring as the previous. She wasn’t in the mood for the same old thing. As she was about to give up, she stumbled upon a religious channel.
The Influence (Supernatural Thriller) Page 24