Lydia obviously hadn’t expected this sort of reaction. But, then, no one could have expected this sort of action from Lydia. She stood there, unable to respond.
“Sharon,” Keith said, turning to face his wife. “if she signed, she’s obligated.”
It was then that Brent and Lydia watched something take place that they hadn’t seen in years. Their mom walked into their dad’s arms. There she tried to take solace in the crook of his neck.
Brent and Lydia looked at each other wide-eyed. Brent walked over to her and said, “Didn’t see that coming.”
“Didn’t see what? What I said or what they’re doing?”
“Both.”
After a moment, their dad looked over to Lydia and asked, “So, did you follow in your old man’s footsteps?”
Lydia smirked and gave a little shake of her head. “Air Force.”
“Cool,” said Brent. “Are they going to let you fly?”
“Air Force? Trying to break my heart now?”
Both brother and sister turned to see the tease in their father’s eyes.
Sharon Lawton released her grip on her husband and pulled back, eyes wet, just listening.
“Yes, the Air Force,” Lydia said, a smile breaking across her face. Then, turning to Brent, she said, “And no, they won’t let me fly. Have to have a four-year degree to do that.”
“Yes! College!” blurted out his mom. “Go to college first!”
“Mom…”
“Sharon…”
The woman held up her hands. “Sorry! I know. I know. She’s not mine anymore.” She appeared on the verge of tears again, but fought them back. Then she put her hands on her hips and, after a deep sigh, asked, “Okay, Lydia Anne, when is all of this going to happen?”
“In seven weeks. Jessica and I…”
“Jessica?”
“Oh, yeah … Jessica and I signed up at the same time. We’ll go through basic training together and even go through avionics school together. We’re going to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas for six weeks first. Then we’ll be going to some other base afterward for a few months of technical school. Then we’ll go somewhere else for … well … I don’t know how long…”
Brent smiled at the memory. You really threw us for a loop that day, Sis.
He pulled the letter out of the envelope, walked over to the light switch, and turned on the dining room chandelier. Unfolding the letter, he read that she was doing well, that she was finally no longer scared of her T.I.—training instructor—and that she was finally getting the feeling she was actually going to graduate. Brent smiled. Atta girl, he thought. Then he reached the part his dad had indicated:
Brent, you should have joined with me. You should see all the single gals here! Brent rolled his eyes with a grin. Just kidding. I just wanted to tell you that if I didn’t have my faith in the Lord, I might not have gotten through the first half of basic training. In fact, you being a good example must have rubbed off on me. Two days ago Jessica asked me to talk with her about my faith. Maybe because I keep bringing it up, or maybe she’s seeing something in me that’s working, I’m not sure. Anyway, we talked for a while, then I asked if she wanted to accept Jesus. She said yes! Now Jessica isn’t just my best friend … she’s my sister! Thought you would like to know. Love ya!
“Wow!” Brent whispered to himself. “Praise God!” He read through the letter a second time, folded it, and returned it to the envelope. Setting it on the table, he called out to the family room, “Sounds like things are going well for her.”
His father called back, “When are you joining up?”
Brent grinned, “Signed up yesterday!”
His mom all but screamed. “What!?”
“I’m kidding! Relax.”
He and his dad laughed out loud.
“Very funny,” his mom retorted. “Just you wait.”
8:45 P.M.
BRENT SAT IN the pew with rapt attention as Bob Naze preached. The topic had him scribbling notes furiously. The subject was “Infiltration of the Enemy.” He still periodically attended Freedom Rings when his schedule allowed, even though he was now firmly ensconced in a church that he loved in Millsville.
Bob was drawing from all over the New Testament as he relayed the End-Times state of the world. He said that Jesus warned in Matthew 7:15 that we are to “Watch out for false prophets and teachers who dress up like sheep, but are really wolves in disguise.” He went on to quote Paul, who warned that the “very elect could be deceived” by those with agendas that contradict the teachings of Christ. Jesus said that on the day of final judgment, there will be those who cry out after their sentencing, “Lord, Lord! Listen to us. You’re wrong. We did preach and teach in your name.” But Jesus will say in response, “Depart from me, you workers of sin, I never knew you!”
Brent’s mind stretched to think of times when he may have been a bit naïve at the sincerity of some people who claimed to be Christians. How many times have I been duped by people who masqueraded as a friend, but really meant to do me harm?
Bob wrapped up the evening with the altar call. As usual, there were several who responded and came forward for salvation. Brent loved this part of the service most. Over the past several years, his self-education in concepts called spiritual warfare taught him to fight in prayer for the lost when Bob was giving the invitation to accept Christ.
Bob had said that the Enemy may have been specifically assigned to an individual to make sure that he or she didn’t accept the Lord. These demonic spirits would endure the tortures of praise and worship just to keep the altar call from being effective in these individuals’ lives. Well, Brent was going to make sure that the Enemy had as little influence over a person’s decision for Jesus as possible.
On his way home he thought about Bob Naze’s message. He prayed, “Lord, show me. Keep me sensitive to your Spirit. I want to know when truth is represented and when deception is at work.”
The Village of Pittston, Ohio was quiet beneath an overcast sky. The moon’s luminescence pushed through the cloud cover, creating an otherworldly scene around the old farmhouse. White curtains, undulating with the soft orange glow of candles in an upstairs bedroom, suggested a warmth stereotypical of traditional country life.
Hidden behind that facade of comfort and normalcy, three young adults were cloaked in a deep unnatural power as they called on unseen forces to exact their evil intentions. The unsuspecting innocents of the local community would one day wish they had foreknowledge of this night’s conjurings, for a powerful, ancient evil was now biding its time, watching attentively at the doorstep of their picturesque village.
FRIDAY,
MAY 29 – 1:43 P.M.
MARTA SAW BRENT sitting with Tara in the Student Union eating lunch. She hesitated before continuing to the table. Why? Was she becoming jealous of Tara’s encroachment into her friendship with Brent? She couldn’t say, yet. She just knew she didn’t much care for Tara. A twinge of guilt stabbed at her.
“God,” she whispered, “please help me to have a better attitude toward her. She only wants help.” Marta took a deep breath, quickly exhaled, put on a smile, and walked quickly to the table.
“Hey, you two!” she said with as much buoyancy as she could exude.
Tara and Brent looked up. Brent’s already-present smile lit up.
“Hey, Marta!” he said.
Did she just see a glint of irritation in Tara’s eyes? Whatever she thought she might have seen was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
“Marta, it’s good to see you,” said Tara, a big smile spreading across her face.
What is it about her that’s got me thinking so negatively?
“Hi, Tara. Good to see you, too.” She sat down.
Brent asked, “Well? How’d it go? Last exam of the last day!”
Marta smiled. “Hopefully it’s not the first bad grade of the last day.”
“I’m sure you did fine. Tara and I were talking about how to stay in touch over the summ
er.”
“Yeah, stay in touch,” Marta said, forcing her smile to remain in place. “Good idea.”
“Turns out that Tara is an outdoorsy type. Hiking, backpacking, and camping and the like. Maybe we could get a couple of other people together and spend a few days in the hills in Southern Ohio this summer. What do you two think?”
“Well, you know me,” Marta responded, “anything to break a nail.”
She was slightly taken aback as Tara began to laugh with an easiness that hadn’t been apparent since they’d met.
“Sounds like it’s time to clip mine then,” Tara said with a smile. “Better I do it now, than sound like the typical girl from the movies.” She put the back of her right hand up to her forehead. “Oh, woe is me! I’ve broken a nail.”
Marta sat down at the table with a smile coming to her lips. Am I actually going to start liking this girl? Hmm… Don’t know. The jury is still deliberating.
“So,” interjected Brent, “what do you think? Sound like a good idea?”
“I have to admit,” responded Marta, “I’d like to have a group outing like that. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been camping, though, and I don’t have much to contribute when it comes to gear.”
“Most of what we’ll need I’m sure I can get,” said Brent. “My family has been camping for years. We’ve got a new tent and a couple of older ones. Camping stove, backpacks, first-aid kits, sleeping bags, you name it. There will be some things that’ll have to be bought, of course, but the cost should be pretty low.”
Tara chimed in. “I’ve got some gear, too.” Turning to face Marta, she said, “One of the most important things to get, if you don’t already have them, would be a good pair of hiking boots and pairs of both nylon and wool socks.”
“Nylon and wool?” asked Marta.
“Yeah,” Tara began to explain, “the two types work well together to prevent chafing and to allow your feet to breathe better. They’ll help prevent moisture building up. Trust me, you don’t want the alternative.”
“I’m starting to get stoked by the whole idea,” said Brent. “Let’s limit the number to another three to five people, though. Tara, do you know anyone who’d like to go with us?”
“I’ll think about it, but most of my camping friends live out of state. So it’ll probably be just me.”
“No matter,” said Brent. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy being around some of our other friends. In fact, it’ll be pretty cool taking a trip where we’ll all be Christians.”
Marta thought she saw a twinge of fear flash in Tara’s eyes, but Tara responded with, “Sounds like a great time! I’m looking forward to it!”
Marta looked to Brent. He turned from Tara with a cheesy grin on his face and said, “Great! I’m loving this idea! I’ll start researching some dates and a location.”
It was then that Marta saw it in Brent’s eyes—puppy-dog eyes. Uh-oh, Marta thought, Brent’s starting to fall for this girl. It had been less than two weeks since they’d initially met her. She could certainly understand Brent’s attraction, at least physically; Tara was runway-model gorgeous with her long strawberry-blonde hair, large green eyes, and cute figure. But behind the skin lurked something he wasn’t seeing … something that even she couldn’t see clearly, yet. God, protect this puppy dog with his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging excitedly.
Brent looked back at Tara and grinned.
FRIDAY,
MAY 29 – 3:03 P.M.
TARA SAID GOODBYE to Brent and Marta and began walking back to her dormitory. She had a lot of things to do: pack up her dorm room and get it loaded into her car and contact her spiritual mentor, Stephanie O’Leary, to let her know that she would, in fact, take her up on the offer to stay with her for the two and a half months between semesters. After all, an hour and a half away was a whole lot better than driving all the way back to Branson, Missouri; not that she had a good reason for going back there, anyway.
Also on her mental to-do list was to seek wisdom and guidance from Shalinar. Her spirit guide would inform her how to disarm Brent. She would soon discover his weaknesses and use them to her advantage.
She already knew one of his weaknesses, of course: strawberry-blonde hair and green eyes. She grinned to herself. Sex. “Testosterone poisoning,” she said out loud with a giggle. Testosterone was, of itself, a powerful potion. She had what Brent wanted, and she would probably even give it to him. After all, she had a body for a reason … to be used in service.
She was no slut, to be sure. And she didn’t give herself away in the hope of finding love. Access to her body was very restrictive. Private, in fact. While some in the craft were very liberal in the giving of their bodies, she kept this area of her life more off limits. She would always control the how and when. She had never been easily led to a bed and never would be. But she did make exceptions, and right now it looked like Brent Lawton would be one of them. Who knows? She might even allow herself to enjoy it.
As she walked into her dorm room, she stopped and sighed. A quick scan of the room reminded her that she was a pack rat. She had a lot of packing to do before her drive up to Pittston.
Sure, I can make it. Those dates don’t conflict with anything,” Marta said into the phone. “Let me know what I should bring. I’ll head out to a store today to see if I can find some good hiking boots.” She paused, then giggled at Brent’s next comment. “Yes, and nylon and wool socks! Good grief! So, who else is going?” Pause. “That’s great! I haven’t seen him since he transferred to Cedarville. Brent, I’m getting excited about this trip!” Pause. “So the group is going to be, you, me, Tara, Eric, Karen, and Terry. Is that right?” Pause. “Sounds great! I can’t wait!” Pause. “Okay, let me know about what I can bring. You have a good remainder of your day, Brent.” Pause. “Thank you. Bye!”
Now she had to go shopping in order to find what apparently were the most important articles of clothing in the whole wide world … nylon and wool socks.
THURSDAY,
JUNE 18 – 2:13 P.M.
THURSDAY AFTERNOONS DURING the summer months allowed Brent and his former high school basketball coach, George Chamberlin, to get together and talk over lunch and sometimes to go out to do some manly things: shooting at the range, a few holes of golf (a sport at which Brent knew he was rather bad), play a game of pick-up basketball at one of a few outdoor courts in the area, and sometimes, like today, go biking.
They opted for a ride along the Ohio & Erie Canal towpath; at least that’s what it had been at one time. Now it was a series of biking & hiking trails, the full length of which was about 100 miles between New Philadelphia and Cleveland. They had never cycled the full course, but they kept talking about getting it done. 200 miles round trip would be quite the trek.
It was a beautiful day with the sun shining down through a near-full canopy of trees. Brent loved Summer. It didn’t get much better than this. They were now enjoying a water break after about fifteen miles of riding, both drawing the cool liquid out of his own respective stash of sports bottles.
Another thing Brent loved was the man with whom he was hanging out.
George Chamberlin had approached Brent after graduation in May of 1983 to ask if he’d be up for a little mentoring in his Christian walk. Brent jumped at the chance. Where Brent was now in his walk with the Lord was attributable, in great part, to this man. He also believed that his dad’s salvation was just around the corner. George and his dad shared several common interests, not the least of which was U.S. history—the subject that George still taught at the high school.
George and Brent sat on the dark gray wall of one of the abandoned canal locks that lined the trail. Sweat that soaked their hair also ran down their faces and necks into their T-shirts.
“So, tell me about this backpacking trip you’re going on,” inquired George, wiping sweat from his eyes with one of his shirt sleeves. “Sounds like you’re pretty excited about it.”
“Yeah, I am. It started out with us jus
t looking for ways to stay connected over the summer. That is, Marta, Tara, and me. Then it got bigger out of necessity when we decided that going backpacking with some other friends would be a cool thing to do.”
“Okay, I know Marta, but who is this Tara?”
“Well, she’s someone that Marta and I met at the college. When we crossed paths with her she was pretty distraught.” Brent went on to describe their initial encounter and budding friendships with the girl.
“Anything there on a more personal level for you, Brent?”
Brent was glad his face was already hot from the exertion of the bike ride, which probably saved him from some visible signs of having been caught off guard with the question. “Umm … Well, she’s not a Christian yet.”
“Not exactly what I asked,” said George with a smirk.
Brent sighed, looked at the ground for a moment, then looked over to George and met his gaze. He already knew where this was going to go.
George was a good mentor, helping Brent to steer clear of some decisions that would have compromised his walk with Christ. After avoiding some of those bad choices, Brent had been glad of the man’s guidance and his persistent questions about the struggles he’d been having. Most of the time, though, the questions were less than comfortable to answer. This held the prospect of being one of those times.
Brent couldn’t help but grin as he answered. “Well, she is hot.”
George couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow. You sure know how to dodge giving a direct answer to a direct question.”
“Okay, okay … Yes … maybe.” Brent broke eye contact and looked straight ahead. “I mean, there is definitely something about her that is intriguing. She’s outgoing and lives a little on the edge. She likes a lot of the same activities that I do, and … she seems to be interested in me.” Brent paused. “There, is that a little closer to the answer you were looking for?”
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