by Bill Myers
How was your visit with Julie?
Ryan gasped in surprise. “How’d he know we were there?” Becka shrugged, trying to shake off the uneasiness. “He just knows that stuff.”
She turned back to the screen and typed: Z, Julie said she died and an angel took her to heaven. Is that possible?
After a pause the words appeared:
Opinion regarding near-death experiences is divided.
In what way?
Some experts believe the experience is a hallucination — the effects of chemicals being released into the brain as it begins shutting down.
Becka nodded. Well, at least there was an explanation.
“Ask him about the others,” Ryan urged. “He said some experts. Ask him what the others say.”
Becka typed:
What do other experts believe?
Many believe the soul actually leaves the body. That sometimes it is accompanied by an angel or angels through a tunnel to another dimension where God awaits.
You mean heaven?
They waited. There was no response. Finally Becka typed: If everybody who dies goes to heaven, then what’s the point of being a Chris tian?
Another pause. This time it was followed by an answer: Chris tians believe when they stand before God’s throne to be judged, they will be found innocent because Christ paid for their sins. Correct?
Correct.
Where do you suppose that throne is?
Becka looked over to Ryan, then typed:
I imagine in heaven.
Precisely.
“Of course,” Ryan slapped his forehead. “We should have known that.”
Ryan leaned back in his chair. “Ask him about hell,” he said.
Becka nodded.
Z, I know the Bible talks about hell. But how can a loving God send people there?
They waited, but no words appeared.
“Why doesn’t he answer?” Ryan asked.
“Sometimes he just doesn’t. At least not right away.” As she spoke, more words appeared on the screen, but they were not the answer to Ryan’s question:
Regarding Julie’s experience, please remember that angels, heaven, hell, the supernatural — all are legitimate experiences if they come from God.
How do you know the difference?
We cross the line into the occult when we attempt to create a supernatural experience on our own.
Please explain.
God is the worker of the supernatural. When we take a shortcut and try to create a supernatural experience on our own — through meditation, channeling, Ouija boards, drugs, crystals — we open ourselves up to satanic counterfeit.
The tiny alarm went off in Becka’s head again. The same one she had heard earlier in the hospital room. She turned to Ryan.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Remember that crystal? Remember Julie said the Ascension Lady had given it to her to call up her angel.” Ryan frowned. “Becka, I really don’t think that’s — ”
Before he could finish, she spun back to the computer and typed:
Z … are you telling us that not every angel is a good angel?
There was no answer. Becka felt her hands getting damp, her stomach tightening. Once again that old, familiar chill crawled up her spine.
Z … are you there? Z, answer me.
And then, ever so slowly, the final letters formed: Good night, Rebecca. Tell your friend good night too.
The couple stared at the words in stunned silence.
Chapter 5
Krissi’s folks were at it again. It was the usual rantings and ravings over who was spending too much money on what.
Same old screamings. Same old door slammings. As usual, Krissi was hiding out in the safest place to be when the fur flew. Her bedroom.
But tonight she barely noticed the shouting. She was too busy practicing her special writing. She’d already learned the basics.
First, she had to stay relaxed. That meant closing the door, drowning out the fighting parents with a CD, and getting nice and comfortable at her desk.
Next came the pen and tablet. She set them on the desk, poised the pen over the paper, and did something she felt particularly qualified to do: She thought of nothing. Of course, all of this still made Krissi nervous — memories of her hand writing on its own at the mansion still gave her the willies — but something even stronger than the fear kept her going.
That something was the thrill. It was exhilarating to play with danger, to toy with and even control the unknown. But there was something even better than that …
There was the prestige.
All her life she’d put up with the airhead comments. All her life she’d endured the “beautiful but dumb” snickerings behind her back. For the most part, it looked like people were right: Thinking didn’t seem to be her strong suit. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t important, that she wasn’t a somebody. She was. And if anybody had doubts, let them read that last message. It was beautiful, brilliant, profound … well, at least what she could understand of it.
Krissi closed her eyes and started doodling on the tablet. The arcs were big and wide as she waited for something to happen.
After several seconds she looked down.
Nothing but big and wide arcs.
Her parents’ voices grew louder. She reached over and cranked up the boom box until the room throbbed with music.
It was some alternative group that a guy had given her while trying to put the moves on her. She hated it. Unfortunately, all of her cool CDs were in Philip’s car, so …
She resumed doodling. Once again she allowed her mind to drift. Then, gradually, it began. She felt her hand moving on its own. It was an odd sensation, but it only lasted a few seconds before it stopped.
She opened her eyes and looked at the paper. The scribbles had turned to a different and very distinct handwriting. But it was only four words:
Turn that noise down!
Krissi raised her eyebrows. Apparently, her hand had better taste in music than she thought. “All right, all right,” she chuckled, “you don’t have to get cranky about it.” She reached over and turned down the player. Then she repositioned herself, took a few more deep breaths, and closed her eyes.
Instantly, her hand started moving.
She was pleased that the writing came so quickly. She was definitely getting the hang of it. She wanted to peek, but every time she looked at her hand or became conscious of it, everything came to a halt. So she kept her eyes closed and her mind empty.
She wasn’t sure how long it was before her hand stopped. But when she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that she had filled an entire page with the strange handwriting.
Krissi smiled. Wait’ll the others see this. She pulled the tablet closer and started to read.
Greetings in the name of the Intergalactic Alliance.
She felt a rush of excitement. This was new.
You and your group have been chosen. You will join with other Light Workers on your planet to prepare for our coming. With the guidance of the Ascended Masters, you will teach others to evolve past their three-dimensional levels and achieve a higher state of consciousness.
Krissi stopped reading and stared at the words. She wasn’t sure what they meant, but they seemed important. One thing she definitely understood, though: the part that said she had been chosen.
She continued reading.
However, you must be warned of a female in your group. Although she has introduced you to us, her jealousy and insistence upon clinging to outdated religious beliefs will prevent you from achieving your rightful position of power. She is extremely dangerous to you and your group. As a Chosen One, you must avoid her. For your own health and safety, be warned.
Sincerely, Xandrak.
Krissi’s heart pounded harder. There was an actual name.
An actual person was writing through her! Then she frowned as she reread the last paragraph. A member of their group would be hold
ing her back. A female who had introduced them to the supernatural was standing in Krissi’s way.
Not only standing in her way, but this person’s — she read the words again — “jealousy” and “outdated religious beliefs” would actually be dangerous to her.
Krissi sat back thoughtfully. Only one person fit that bill.
Already Krissi could feel the slightest trace of anger starting to burn. How dare she be held back! How dare someone like Becka stand in her way, especially over something as important as changing the world!
Krissi reached for the phone and hesitated. Should she call and confront Becka? Or should she tell Philip and the others first?
From inside, a quiet, almost imperceptible voice whispered, Philip.
She nodded and dialed Philip’s number.
**********
At that exact time another phone call was being made. It was late, and Ryan had already gone home. Now Becka was on the phone, pleading with the night nurse at the hospital to ring through to Julie’s room. It took some doing, but the woman finally gave in.
When Julie answered, her voice was brimming with excitement.
“Hello?”
“Julie, it’s Becka. Are you okay?”
“Becka, it’s so cool, you wouldn’t believe it.” Rebecca swallowed back her uneasiness. “What is?”
“My angel. I’ve talked to him two or three times tonight. And he’s got so much to teach me, so much to teach all of us.” Becka’s mouth went dry. She tried to keep her voice steady.
“Julie … listen, are you playing around with that crystal? Are you calling up your … angel?”
“It’s just like the Ascension Lady said.” Julie was practically giggling. “He’s always there, waiting for me, ready to teach me.
There’s so much to learn, Beck, and so much love. You wouldn’t believe the love.”
“Jules …” Becka tried to swallow again. “Jules, I think you’re in danger.”
She heard a soft chuckle on the other end.
“Julie, you’ve got to stop calling that thing up. It’s not real, it’s a counterfeit.”
“No way! He’s too loving, too powerful. And he’s promised me that same power. He’s promised it to all of us.”
“Julie — ”
“Look, I’d better be going.”
“But — ”
“I get to go home tomorrow morning. Call me there.”
“But, Julie, it’s — ”
“It’s okay, Beck, I promise. You won’t know till you experience it. But don’t worry. I’ll teach you how.”
“But — ”
“Good night, Becka.” There was a click on the other end, followed by the dial tone.
Rebecca stared at the receiver. Her face drained of color. She looked at her hands. They were beginning to shake.
Chapter 6
No offense, Beck, but it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”
“Jealous?” Becka said in disbelief. “Me?”
“It’s only natural,” Philip continued. “Hand me up another piece of tape, will you?”
Becka tore off a strip of masking tape and lifted it up to Philip. He was balanced precariously on a ladder, trying to hang a poster over an archway in the school. Ryan stood nearby, unrolling another poster. It was 7:30 a.m. Thirty minutes before classes started. A few kids were wandering in, but for the most part the place was still empty.
The three of them were hard at work putting up the campaign posters that members of Ryan’s campaign committee had made the night before. This one was particularly impressive. Not only for its classy lettering — “Ryan for President” was scripted in gold metallic paint and highlighted by deep burgundy shadows — but also for its location. Philip was hanging it directly over the steps leading to the cafeteria.
Of course, Krissi should have been there too. But, as usual, she was late. Probably something about her hair, makeup, nails, or whatever.
After calling Julie, Becka had been up all night. She tried calling Z back, but it was too late. She tried talking to Scott, but he was too exhausted. Lately, when her brother wasn’t in school, he was spending every waking hour over at Darryl’s cousin’s place, playing some stupid computer game. She barely saw him anymore. Of course, she had tried to call Julie at home the next morning. But for whatever reason, Julie wasn’t accepting calls.
And now, to top it all off, Philip was mistaking her concern as jealousy.
“I’m not jealous, Philip. I’m just worried about her, that’s all.
She shouldn’t try to make supernatural stuff happen on her own.
It’s too dangerous.”
“But it’s okay for you?” Philip asked.
“I — I didn’t say that,” Becka said, a little flustered.
“Look,” Philip continued, “in the beginning it was just you and your brother, and that was cool. You guys were the ones experiencing all the mystical junk. But now Julie is starting to get in on the action. And so is Krissi. I guess it’s only natural that you’d be a little — ”
“Philip, I am not jealous. I’m worried. I mean, if we learned anything at the mansion, it was that not everything supernatural is good.”
“But,” Ryan corrected, “not everything supernatural is nec-essarily bad, either.”
Becka glanced at him. It was obvious Ryan was still thinking about last night’s disagreement over heaven and hell. Philip nodded. “My point, exactly. What’s so bad about an angel? Everybody’s talking about them. I mean, just look at the TV, movies, magazines, books.”
Becka wanted to respond, but at the moment, she was feeling a little outnumbered.
“Remember what Krissi’s note said?” Philip asked.
Ryan chuckled. “Yeah. Awakening our powers? Evolving to a higher level of consciousness?”
“Don’t laugh. Isn’t that the exact thing Julie is experiencing, going into another dimension with her angel buddy? And isn’t that exactly what the Ascension Lady predicted?” Ryan grew more serious. “You think there’s a connection?
Between Julie and Krissi?”
Philip chose his words carefully. “I think something’s been happening ever since the mansion. It’s like something’s been, I don’t know, turned loose in Julie and Krissi. And,” Philip tried to soften the next phrase, but there was no missing its sting, “I think Becka has to stay open. She has to be careful not to hold us back.” The words burned in Becka’s ears. Hold them back! She was the one who had saved them in the first place. She was the one trying to protect them!
Philip leaned farther over the steps and the ladder started to tilt forward.
“Becka!” Ryan reproved. “Hold it steady.” She looked at him, surprised. It was the first time he had ever raised his voice at her.
A little embarrassed, he returned to his work on the other poster and resumed the conversation. “What do you mean, hold us back? How could Rebecca hold us back?” Philip continued reaching across the stairs. “I got a call from Krissi last night. She received another message.” Ryan and Becka exchanged looks. “Phil,” Ryan ventured, “do you think that stuff’s okay?”
“You mean is it for real?”
“Well, yeah, for starters.”
“The handwriting’s not Krissi’s, I can tell you that. In fact, it has a left-handed slant to it. Krissi is right-handed. Besides, like I said, it fits with what’s happening to Julie and what the Ascension Lady said.”
“So that makes all that stuff good?” Becka asked incredulously. She immediately bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t sounded so defensive.
Philip looked down at her. His voice was calm, which made her feel even more stupid. “I didn’t say they were good or bad, Becka.
I’m just suggesting you stay open and not stand in our way.” Becka looked to Ryan, hoping for some defense, but he busied himself with the other poster. She felt a slight tightening in her throat. Ryan didn’t have to agree with everything she said, but right now his silence felt more like a betrayal than
staying neutral. Once again her mind churned over last night’s disagreement about hell and the supernatural. Why hadn’t Z answered that question?
Losing herself in thought, she barely heard the chirpy “Hey, guys, it looks great.” Philip and Ryan turned to see Krissi round the corner.
It was the turn that did it: The shift of Philip’s weight to see Krissi pulled the ladder too far forward, and Becka, still lost in thought, didn’t notice.
“Becka!”
She looked up, startled. The ladder tipped; Philip lost his balance.
“Watch it!” Ryan leapt for the ladder, but he was too late.
Philip slipped and fell fifteen feet to the hard concrete steps.
“Philip!” Krissi screamed.
The ladder crashed down on top of him as Krissi raced down the steps to his side. Ryan quickly joined them.
Becka looked on, frozen. Krissi and Ryan were both there to help, but Becka could only stand and stare.
“Philip,” Krissi cradled his head in her arms. “Philip …
Philip …”
He stirred slightly and opened his eyes.
“Philip, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, trying to move, but wincing in pain. “I’m all right.”
A few kids started to gather. At last Becka was able to move.
“Philip, I’m so sorry. I don’t know — ”
Krissi spun around at her. “Stay away!” she ordered. “Get back.”
The command shocked Becka, and she came to a stop.
“Krissi,” Ryan tried to reason, “it was an accident. Becka didn’t — ”
“Yes, she did.” No one moved. Krissi’s voice grew louder and more shrill. “She knew exactly what she was doing!” To prove her point, she dug into her handbag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. The very paper she had written the night before. “See for yourself.”
Becka looked on as Ryan took the paper, unfolded it, and read. More kids gathered as Krissi continued her accusation. “It told me you were dangerous!” she shouted. “It told me your jealousy would try to stop us!”
Becka started toward her again. “Kriss — ”
“Stay away!”
By now a sizable group of kids had gathered. Becka could feel her face and ears growing hot under their questioning stares.