“We?”
Crap. She stepped in it again. She glared at Karen without saying a word.
“Okay,” said Karen, “just finish your thought.”
“Christians are the enemy. One of the enemies, anyway. It’s obvious that they have power from somewhere. If the Christian is, what you people would say, ‘on fire for God,’ then we are going to have little success against him.”
“Why is that, do you think?”
Tara considered that for a moment. She had pondered this question over and over and always came up with the same answer: “Because they have a defense against the spirits sent to assail them.”
“And that defense is…?”
Tara’s jaw clenched again. She was starting to feel jittery and weak. She was being backed into a corner and she wanted to lash out. At least something in her wanted to lash out. She could feel something stirring. Shalinar?
KAREN NOTICED SOMETHING going on in her, too. She backed up a step. “Tara?”
“Shut the hell up!” She spat out the words then let out a scream at the top of her lungs! “I hate you! I hate you! Go to hell!” She screamed again, another violent scream that tore at her throat. Her body was racked with a combination of pain and pure, unadulterated loathing.
Karen took another step back. She momentarily felt shaken to her core. She should have expected something like this. “Tara!” she yelled. “Tara, look at me!”
And Tara did. And for a split second Karen felt an ice-cold fear rise up inside of her while looking into Tara’s eyes.
She prayed a silent emergency prayer. Father, help me!
Karen stilled herself. She took a deep breath and spoke assertively at Tara. “Peace! Be still, in the name of Jesus Christ! Spirit, be bound and muted in Jesus’ name!”
Tara’s body relaxed and the internal strife seemed to disappear. But Karen knew better than to let down her defenses. This calm could be a deception.
“Tara… Okay. We’re going to just put an end to the conversation. Okay? It’s all right. We don’t have to talk about this right now. Okay?”
TARA WAS SCARED. What had just happened? She had just lost control. Or … had something taken control? She felt unsure and totally off balance. She looked up at Karen.
Dread permeated Tara’s eyes as she looked into Karen’s for some measure of comfort. This time the fear she experienced was different; different from that of being alone … different, even, than being attacked by the dark spirits. This was a fear—a foreboding—born of realization.
“Tara…”
“Karen, what’s happening? What just happened? What’s happening to me?” Tara looked around, unsure of everything, including her surroundings.
Karen approached her. “Shh… Tara, it’s going to be okay.”
Tara began to shake. Her eyes darted back and forth. “Karen, what’s happening?” Tears began to flow.
Karen walked up to Tara and as best she could with the weight of the packs on their backs, she embraced her. “Shh… Sweetie, it’s going to be okay.”
Tara trembled.
The two of them heard the sound of multiple sets of feet rushing toward them from up the trail. They both turned to see all four of the others running. They had obviously discarded their packs to get here as quickly as they did.
“What’s going on? What happened?” came the out-of-breath inquiry from Brent as they approached.
The three men had their machetes in hand, eying the area around Karen and Tara. Thoughts of the wild boar were obviously at the forefront of their minds.
Tara was now realizing that Karen wasn’t preventing the group from drawing near as had been the case with Marta. Instead she waved them over in a way that allowed them to know that there was no threat; her facial expression also letting them know that they needed to be sensitive to what was going on just now.
Tara choked out a whispered, “Please, don’t tell them.”
“It’s going to be all right,” Karen whispered with a comforting stroke to her hair. “I promise.”
Brent, Eric, Marta, and Terry quietly approached.
Marta, apparently sensing she needed to speak in hushed tones, asked, “What is it? Are you okay?”
Karen put on a empathy-laden smile. “There’s something that needs to be shared.”
“No, Karen. Please, don’t,” begged Tara in a forced whisper.
Tara knew that she was far—very far—from her element. There was nowhere to run; nowhere to hide. She was in their environment. Whatever was going to happen after Karen shared the news was completely out of her control.
Why was she feeling shame? Why did she not want to look any of them in the eyes? Up until two minutes ago she would have lifted her chin, and with a look that spoke a challenge, announced what she was. But… But now she knew. They weren’t greatly intimidated by her power.
“Tara has a confession that she needs to make to all of us,” said Karen. Then, whispering into Tara’s ear, she asked, “Can you tell them?”
Tara gave a slight shake of her head.
“It’s got to either be you or me, Tara. Do you want me to tell them?”
A hesitation, then Tara relented, providing an ever-so-slight nod.
“Okay, gang. I want all of you to say a quick silent prayer, asking God to shower down his love and let it flow through you. Okay?”
Karen obviously didn’t see what she’d hoped.
“This is a serious situation, and we’re going to need some Jesus on tap. Each of you, please … pray.”
They all nodded. Eric, Marta, and Terry closed their eyes and began to silently pray. Brent stood with a questioning glance, but Karen shot him a look that said, You too. He closed his eyes.
Tara could see him mouthing a silent prayer. She started trembling again.
Again, Karen whispered into her ear. “Peace, be still, in Jesus′ name.”
And again, Tara relaxed, letting out a heavy sigh.
When it became evident that they had finished praying, Karen asked, “Eric, Terry, will you help us with our packs?”
The two men came over and helped them to ease the packs off their shoulders and set them on the ground.
Karen approached Tara again and pulled her close with her right arm. She eased her head over to touch Tara’s; a sign of solidarity. Tara closed her eyes, receiving what Karen had to offer.
Karen didn’t mince words or make any preparatory remarks; she just laid it out before them, without a twinge of accusation in her voice.
“Tara is a witch.”
All four sets of eyes widened in disbelief.
Brent’s eyebrows pinched together creating a stern countenance that communicated a single realization; he’d been played in more than just one way. “You’re a what?” he said with a bit too much hostility.
Karen spoke up. “Brent, don’t.” To all four of them she said, “I, too, have a confession to make. Do you know that when you look at me, you see a former witch? You might say that, in a way, Tara and I are kindred spirits.”
Tara received, she was sure, what was meant to be a reassuring smile as Karen looked back at her, and she felt a gentle squeeze on her shoulder.
Why is she being kind to me? She should be as ticked off as everybody else. Tara also knew that if the tables had been turned and she’d been the one conned, she’d have been much more aggressive than Brent had just been.
Marta spoke up next. “So, by witch, you mean like a Wiccan or something, right?”
Karen spoke for Tara. “Not exactly. We’ve both got backgrounds in stuff a bit more hard core.”
With her next question it was obvious that Marta was searching for a viable answer to the major question plaguing her mind. “Then you’ve been hanging with us these past couple of months because you’ve been wanting help to get out of it?”
Karen brought her mouth close to Tara’s left ear. “Do you want to answer this your own way?”
Again, Tara shook her head.
“Actu
ally,” Karen began, “Tara has been infiltrating our little group. She’s had an agenda that, well, only she can explain.”
Tara looked at Brent. He still had a look of anger and betrayal on his face.
“But it’s obvious to me,” Karen persisted, “that she’s been orchestrating a plan to cause some sort of downfall in your life, Brent.”
Brent’s jaw thrust forward, lips pressed together. He folded his arms, waiting for the rest.
Karen continued. “Apparently she’s had it in for Marta, as well.”
Tara stole a quick glance at Marta.
Marta stared back. She raised her eyebrows in a way that said, Anything you’d like to say for yourself?
Tara remained quiet.
Eric walked up to Brent and whispered something into his ear that Tara couldn’t make out. Brent turned to look at Eric with eyes that said, You can’t be serious. Eric nodded.
Brent looked back at Tara. She couldn’t look away from his gaze.
“In case you’re wondering,” said Brent, “Eric just told me that I need to immediately forgive you. As a follower of Christ that’s what I’m supposed to do. But I’ve got to tell you, Tara. I’m ticked. I don’t want to forgive you.” He paused, apparently considering his next words carefully. “Do you even want to be forgiven by me?”
Eric said, “That doesn’t matter, Brent.”
Brent raised his right hand indicating that he didn’t want Eric’s input at that moment. “It matters to me.”
Karen turned to Tara and looked at her as if to say, It’s your platform now, and stepped away from her side.
Tara looked down at the dirt path. “I don’t know what I want,” she said in a half whisper.
“Well, I know what I want,” said Brent, “and that’s an explanation.”
Karen spoke up. “Brent, before you start assuming things and making judgments, I’ll remind you of your own testimony.”
Brent looked at her, perplexed. “What?”
“Shortly after you and I met, you shared with me your testimony on how you came to know Christ. I seem to recall that you had used the witchcraft that you were involved in to manipulate some of the people you were around. Isn’t that right?”
It was Tara’s turn to go wide-eyed. “What?” she asked in a soft voice. “You?”
Brent was caught off guard, but wasn’t yet ready to concede his right to be angry. “That was different. This is different!” he stated incredulously.
“Maybe,” said Karen. “Maybe slightly.”
Tara couldn’t let go of the realization. “You were a witch?”
Brent obviously didn’t know how to respond to that. The others in the group were now looking at him to hear more of this improbable revelation. Marta probably knew, but it appeared that Eric and Terry knew scant details of his story.
Brent apparently felt compelled to answer Tara’s question. “I guess I was. But I never considered myself a witch.”
As it appeared that Brent wasn’t going to expound further, Karen continued. “Brent wasn’t exactly a witch as Tara and I would describe one.” She paused for a moment, as if considering what to say. Then she said, “I remember most of your testimony. Your involvement wasn’t a practiced form of witchcraft as much as it was a belief that you had a gift; special abilities that were yours alone. That is until the demons made themselves known to you.”
Everyone’s attention shifted from Karen and Tara to Brent, and Tara found herself in shock at the revelation.
IT FELT LIKE the collar of Brent’s T-shirt was constricting around his neck. What was it the Bible said about situations like this? Don’t concern yourself with the splinter in someone else’s eye, when you’ve got a plank in your own. Brent’s plank was feeling pretty uncomfortable at the moment.
Brent knew he had to man up. “Karen’s right.” He looked directly at her and with true humility he said, “Thank you for helping me to remember.”
Taking a deep breath, he walked toward Tara. Though he could see that she grew more tense with each step, he didn’t stop until he was within arm’s reach.
“Tara,” he beckoned.
She wouldn’t look him in the eyes. His chest was as high as they were willing to travel.
“Tara, look at me.”
She shook her head slowly in silence.
“Tara, it’s okay. Look at my eyes.”
She forced her eyes upward to meet his.
“Tara, based on my own past, I have no right to be angry with you.”
“But you want to be,” she said just above a whisper.
Brent had to release a small laugh. “I so did … two minutes ago. But, Karen is right about me. My past is filled with trying to bend people to my will. Now that the table has been turned, do I really have a right to be angry with you for doing the same thing I did?”
Rage erupted in Tara. “Stop it! STOP IT!” She stepped back from Brent. Karen began to approach her, but Tara wouldn’t have it. “Stay away from me, Karen!”
Karen tried to reason with her. “Tara, it’s…”
“Shut UP!” Her eyes panned the group. “What is wrong with you people? You’re not normal!” Her hands flew up to her hair and began pulling at the sides. She screamed!
Marta took two steps backward on the brink of panic. Eric and Terry just stood their ground. Karen, because she was told to do so, didn’t come close.
But Brent …
Brent felt the peace of the Holy Spirit take control of him. This was God’s moment, and Brent knew he was now in God’s hands as an instrument of that peace.
He walked right up to Tara. Tara screamed again, released her hair, and brought two fists down like hammers onto Brent’s chest.
Brent barely cringed. He took another half step forward and put his arms around her. Her arms were locked in his embrace. He moved his head and brought it to the left of Tara’s. Whispering into her ear he said, “Tara, I forgive you.”
“No!” she said with a snarl on her face.
“Yes,” he softly responded. “We all do. We love you.”
“Noooo! Stop it! Shut up! It’s a lie!”
Brent whispered into her ear again. “I speak peace over you in the name of Jesus. You lying spirits who are controlling her mind and her body, be still, in the name of Jesus.” He could feel Tara’s body relax.
“Tara, God loves you. Jesus Christ is not your enemy. He is passionately in love with you.”
Tara’s body quaked. She sobbed. “It can’t be true. It can’t be true.” She kept repeating the sentence over and over as Brent continued to affirm God’s love. Within a few minutes of taking Tara into his embrace she seemed to lose all strength and collapsed to her knees.
She wept. “It can’t be true.”
They were all tired and hungry.
After Tara had regained her composure, she quietly resumed the rest of the hike back to the trailhead office, though she would only walk with Karen.
The subject of her witchcraft, and her attempts to disrupt the lives of the five Christians, had been shelved for the time being. Tara wasn’t in a place mentally or emotionally to give or take anymore. She was exhausted and the remaining couple of miles to the vehicles taxed her even further.
Now that they were off the trail and on the road home, the group decided that gnawing on beef jerky and trail mix held little appeal for the multi-hour trip back north. They decided, instead, to stop off somewhere near Portsmouth, not far from the state forest, for something to eat. Long John Silver’s ended up being the restaurant of choice for the women, so the men acquiesced.
Loaded up on batter-dipped, deep-fried seafood and hush puppies, they got back on the road for the drive back to Millsville. To Brent’s chagrin, the driving arrangements remained the same as they had been on the way down. He really wanted to hear more of what was going on with Tara. But that conversation was reserved for Eric’s and Karen’s ears, at least for a couple more hours.
Within his own vehicle, Marta hadn’t said
, “I told you so” yet, but Brent knew she had to be thinking it. He now admitted to himself that testosterone had kept him blind to what was going on spiritually around him, both prior to, and during, the trip. Marta had been right concerning the checks she’d had in her spirit, and he needed to humble himself and acknowledge that.
“Marta?” he said softly, looking to the front passenger seat. She had seemed deep in thought throughout the first fifteen minutes of the drive.
“Hmm?” she responded, gazing out her window.
“You were right.”
“About?”
“I doubted your misgivings about Tara. You kept making it clear that something was going on, and I just wouldn’t allow myself to believe you.”
“Oh. Yeah, well… Thanks for admitting that to me.”
“Forgive me?”
“Forgiven.”
Terry apparently couldn’t resist. “Aww… Love birds.”
Brent worked to hold back a smile and just shook his head.
Marta let out a small giggle, never breaking her gaze with the countryside.
UNLIKE IN BRENT’S Suburban, Eric didn’t have anyone riding shotgun. Both Karen and Tara took up residence in the back seats.
The conversation that Eric wanted to hear wasn’t taking place. Tara leaned over onto Karen’s shoulder, as a daughter might do with her mother. The silence that permeated the cab of the Jeep was needed for the time being.
Eric looked back periodically, using the rear-view mirror, and would see Karen smoothing Tara’s hair. At one point he saw her kiss the crown of Tara’s head and whisper something to her that he would never be privy to.
Eric prayed.
ANOTHER SEVERAL MINUTES of silent driving was getting on Brent’s nerves. “So…” he said, “Interesting trip.”
Terry chuckled.
Marta was still looking out her passenger window, but nodded in agreement.
“Yeah,” she said almost as a sigh. “I was just thinking about what Karen told us to do before she broke the news.”
“The prayer?” asked Terry.
Deliver Us From Darkness Page 24