“… free to worship …”
Music blared from Ginny’s room across the hall. Joy glanced at her bedside clock. Five thirty? Didn’t the woman know what time it was? Joy grabbed the sides of her throbbing head. When would the pain stop?
The music played on.
Oh, must be Ginny’s alarm clock. That’s right—prayer time. Joy’s heart sank.
She’d have to face the music and return to the battlefield in the prayer room mere hours from the devastation she’d witnessed the night before. But after what she’d seen, how could she possibly go in there? Joy glanced down at Silas. Where had he been last night?
He looked up at her, panting, smiling, begging her to need him.
Joy lowered her feet to the cold floor and searched for her fuzzy slippers with her toes. Her legs screamed in pain with every movement. Why was she so sore?
As she stood to her feet, Joy thought she’d crumple to the floor. Every inch of her body hurt as though she’d been pummeled within an inch of her life. Had she?
She moved as quickly and gingerly as her injured body would allow until she stood before the mirror.
She gasped in horror. Her arms and legs were covered with bruises, and her face looked like it had been punched. What had happened to her? No, she’d have to figure that out later. For now she needed to cover her body.
Scrambling in her suitcase, Joy grabbed the first thing her fingers touched and pulled it over her head. Her favorite sweatshirt settled over her body like a soothing massage. Now for her legs. Denim would only irritate her injuries. Ah, yoga pants. Perfect.
Joy shuffled to the bathroom and pulled the door closed. Ugh. Another mirror.
Maybe she should tell someone about the bruises all over her body—they’d let her rest and heal. Maybe they’d even be able to help her. Or they’d think she was crazy.
She probably was.
She brushed her teeth and ran a brush through her hair. She’d have to wash it tomorrow, but she could get by one more day. The thought of raising her sore arms above her head … no thanks.
She yawned and covered her mouth with her hand. Would there be time in the day for a nap, or was she locked into some schedule from sunup to sundown? Then again, if she slept … Sleeping was out of the question after last night.
Ginny knocked on the doorframe. “You about ready?” Her jaw dropped as she saw Joy’s face. “What on earth?” She rushed over and touched Joy’s swollen lid. “What happened?”
Tell her, or not? She looked at Ginny’s concerned, yet clueless, face. Definitely not. “I bumped into the doorframe when I went to the bathroom last night.”
“Oh, hon. Do you need ice?”
Aren’t you the nurse? You tell me. “No. I’m fine.” Change the subject. “I’m ready.”
“Good, I don’t want you guys to be late, especially on your first day.”
Joy stepped into the hallway where Savvy stood waiting. She gasped at Joy’s appearance.
“Hey.” Joy averted her eyes. On second thought, Joy looked back at Savvy. “You should see the other guy.”
Ginny pulled her office door closed behind her. “Ready? Let’s go.” She opened the front door with a key.
They’d been locked in? Seriously? Was that even legal?
Joy pulled her hands up into her sweatshirt. It was too short a walk to mess with a heavy coat, but shivering just made her body ache more.
They trudged through the snow in the dark toward the brightly lit house with the smoke coming from two chimneys. Sure was inviting from back here. At least from the ground, while conscious. On the back stoop, they banged their shoes against the concrete and watched the snow fly off in clumps. Joy winced as every bang of her foot sent a hot poker through her body.
“You guys all set?”
What if she ran into the bathroom and pretended she was sick? Joy glanced down at Silas and locked eyes with him. If only she could convey her intent. She wasn’t going in there to pray to God, but she had no way of letting him know that. If he would just keep looking into her eyes, he would know.
The girls tried to squeeze past each other to get in the prayer room. If they’d been through what Joy had …
She watched as the bottleneck cleared and everyone scattered to a beanbag chair or cushion. Many sat in groups of three or four where they’d supposedly pray with their friends. Big if on that one.
As the group filed in, Joy took a deep breath. It was almost her turn to enter. Avoiding the stares at her bruised face and swollen eye, Joy shuffled toward the opening as the line diminished. She arrived at the doorway and lifted her foot, raising it over the threshold. Her body revolted against entering that room, like a lamb suddenly aware it’s being led to slaughter.
No more stalling.
She put her toes down on the other side.
So far so good. Here goes.
Joy let her entire foot make contact with the floor.
Nothing happened.
No flash of lightning. No clashing of swords with lightning from their tips.
Hmm. Okay. So it was no big deal. And thankfully, Ginny didn’t seem to have noticed her trepidation. Joy lifted the other foot in a similar way up over the threshold and planted it firmly in the room. Still nothing. Even Silas behaved at her side. She locked eyes with him and nodded. Good boy.
Now, where should she go? She’d take a private location, thank you very much. Joy walked to the supersize beanbag chair on the floor beneath the Nativity window—she chuckled at the irony. She’d been involved in a baby Jesus burning. Now she sat near Him in a prayer room.
She sank into the beans. At first her body cried out at the contact, then it relaxed and settled down in the soft comfort. Ah. Even better than standing. Soothing, like a bandage.
Glancing around the room, she locked eyes with Ben Bradley standing on the other side, watching. How much had he seen? Joy would have to be on the lookout for him. That dude was a little too smart.
Soft recorded music filled the room. Was that …? Yeah, George Winston on the piano. Shocking it wasn’t some kind of churchy music. Cool.
Silas curled up by her feet, content.
All around her, sounds of whispered prayers reverberated off the walls as the girls prayed for their families at home and for each other. Some prayed silently. That would work for Joy.
She closed her eyes and moved her lips. Hopefully no one would look closely enough to see she mouthed the words of her favorite songs, one after another.
Silas inched closer. She felt his body pressed against her leg. Looked like if she stayed true to him, he’d stay true to her. If she were happy, he’d be happy. As long as she didn’t turn her thoughts or—heaven forbid—prayers toward God, Silas was fine. She could live with that. At least until she figured out what was going on.
Chapter 29
After breakfast, do you mind coming to my office? I’d like to talk with you, get to know you a bit. I’ve already told Ginny.” Ben spun around and speed-walked away.
Well, he’d phrased it as a question. Funny, Joy didn’t feel like she had a choice. That Ben Bradley had approached her like a stealth bomber. An impeccably dressed stealth bomber.
So was Joy in trouble for not actually praying that morning? But how could he know? She hoped these people didn’t think they could even begin to legislate thought.
Ginny waved from the usual table.
Joy walked over to her, ignoring the rumbling in her belly, being careful not to cry out in pain as her body reminded her of the war she’d been in the middle of the night before.
“So how’s your day going?” Ginny looked her over.
Joy shrugged. “Well, it’s hardly begun, but so far so good, I guess.”
“I’m really sorry about your … um … face. Mark is bringing a night-light up from town today. We’ll make sure that won’t happen again.”
If only a little bulb was all it would take to stop the powers of good and evil. Something told her it would take more tha
n a tiny little glow. It didn’t seem like Ginny suspected the real source of Joy’s injuries, but there was no way to know. She’d never let on unless she wanted Joy to know. Besides, if she did know the truth, she’d have to deal with it. And how would someone deal with this? They’d be facing an impossibility. Just like Joy was.
“You hungry?” Ginny tipped her head toward the breakfast line.
“I’m desperate for coffee.” Joy clasped her hands together. “Please tell me there’s coffee.”
Ginny laughed. “Yes, trust me, we wouldn’t get very far in this house without coffee.” She leaned in close and whispered. “In fact, I’m always worried somebody’s going to talk to Ben about the addictive nature and the notion that caffeine to you girls might be counterproductive, because he’d remove it, and then what would we do?”
Joy laughed. Hmm. That was pretty cool. Joy wouldn’t have expected that from Ginny. Definitely way cooler than Ben, so far anyway. “Speaking of Ben, he wants to see me in his office after breakfast. Any idea what that’s about?”
“Oh, I doubt it’s anything to worry about. I’m sure he just wants to get to know you. He does that with everyone within their first week sometime.”
Joy raised her eyebrows. Ow! She needed to pretend her face was full of Botox and not move a muscle.
Ginny gave a dismissive wave. “Trust me. You’re going to love him. Ben’s got a heart like no other. He works like a maniac and pours himself into this place … into the girls. He’s an amazing guy.” Ginny’s eyes grew misty. “When I think of what he did for my Olivia … and for me …”
Funny, that wasn’t really the impression of Ben Joy had, but she’d stay open-minded.
“Now. You go get some breakfast before you run out of time.”
Joy moved through the breakfast line, chattering girls all around her. Odd to be in such a packed room, yet feel all alone.
A few feet ahead, Paige stepped out of her place in line and moved back by Joy. “Mind if I join you?”
“Course not.” But did Paige really want to, or had someone given her the challenge of befriending the new girl? Either way, the end result was that Joy got to hang out with Paige McNichols. Life had a funny way of throwing a curve ball at the weirdest times. Maybe she and Paige would be BFFs before the whole thing ended.
Melanie would have loved that story.
Paige inched ahead as the line moved forward. Joy followed at her heels. “So what are our choices?” She read the menu board. Cereal. Scrambled eggs. Biscuits and gravy. Bagels … Ooh. A bagel. That’s what Joy wanted. She moved to the toaster section and slipped a blueberry one into the slots and pressed the lever down. She opened the little door to the refrigerated case where the single-serving cream cheeses were lined up. Strawberry. Perfect.
She grabbed a knife and added it to her plate.
The bagel bounced when it popped up, and Joy pinched it with the tongs then dropped it onto her plate. Now where had Paige gone? Oh. She was waiting for gravy. Paige shrugged and mouthed an apology.
“I’ll save you a seat.” Joy turned around to the juice machine and filled a cup with crushed ice and cranberry juice cocktail. Then she arrived at Nirvana. The coffee machine. She placed a coffee cup under the nozzle for french vanilla cappuccino, filled it halfway, then poured dark roast plain coffee to top it off. That way it wouldn’t be quite so sweet.
“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice whispered into her ear.
The coffee sloshed over the sides of Joy’s cup as she flipped around. No one was there.
She stood like a marble statue and searched the people near her. No one was close enough to have spoken and gotten away fast enough that she wouldn’t have seen anything. So it wasn’t Paige. Or Ginny. Or Savvy. Or any of the other girls in that place. Then who had spoken to Joy?
What did she think she was doing? About breakfast? Or about life?
Joy flinched. Would she be hearing voices on a regular basis now? She would wind up in a mental hospital before the month was out.
Paige joined her. “Everything okay?” She looked out at the crowd, too.
Joy shrugged. “I don’t know. I just zoned out for a sec. No biggie.” She followed Paige to the table Ginny had saved. No one said a word for a few minutes as they set their breakfast trays down. Joy had better get a grip, or they’d start asking questions. She forced a smile and set about spreading cream cheese on her bagel.
“That’s it. Act like nothing’s wrong.” The Voice.
Joy searched for Silas. He was right by her side, wagging his tail.
Okay. She needed to ignore The Voice. Paying attention to it would do nothing but encourage it.
Savvy approached. “Mind if I sit down?” Her eyes lowered and her mouth in a frown, she looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but had to sit somewhere.
Paige gestured to an empty seat. “Of course.”
Savvy slid into it.
Joy smirked. Quite the unlikely trio they made. The silent, brooding, tattooed girl; the drug addict movie star; and the girl who heard voices and talked to dead people.
The door was open, but the office was empty. Joy would leave and come back later. Gladly. She turned to walk away when she heard a thump.
“Joy? Is that you?” A voice with no body. But it sounded like Ben … not The Voice.
“Ben? Are you there?” She searched the room for a closet door or somewhere he could be hiding. But why would he be hiding?
Another thump and some rustling then the desk chair slid back. Ben crawled out from under the desk, held up a pen, and grinned, flashing his white teeth. “Found it.”
Okay. That dude was weird.
He ran his fingers through the pepper part of his salt-and-pepper hair and scrambled to his feet. He smoothed down his flat-front khakis and adjusted his sweater. They had names for guys like him at school. But she wouldn’t go there.
“Have a seat.”
Joy perched in the red guest chair, ready to bolt the moment the opportunity presented itself.
Ben hurried around his desk and claimed his chair from where it had rolled. He sat down and slid into position behind his desk. He clasped his hands on the wooden surface and leaned forward. “Joy. It’s truly wonderful to have you here. You know, Mark Stapleton came home from the meeting he had with you and your family a week ago and told us all about you. Since then, we as a staff—me and my wife, Alicia; Mark and Ginny Stapleton; the two other counselors you haven’t met yet; and even Marilyn, the cook—have been praying for you.”
Uh … what did he want her to say? “Thanks.” How weird to hear strangers across the country had been saying her name and talking about her deepest problems.
“I don’t believe in coincidence, so I feel safe in believing our prayers have been answered by you being here with us.”
Joy nodded. “I don’t know about answered prayers, but I am here.” She shrugged.
“Now, I know your story. I know what you’ve been going through and what you’ve been involved in. And if it’s all right with you, I’d like to start off by talking to you a little bit about the foundation for what we believe regarding all the spiritual things you’ve been dabbling in. Sound okay?”
Dabbling? Right. Pretty mild word for what she had been into lately. Her swollen eye twitched. “Sure. Go for it.” Not that it could help. Whether or not she understood why they believed what they did, it wouldn’t change her thoughts at all.
“We’re talking about the occult, which is everything that relates to satanic spiritual things like contacting the dead or praying to or sacrificing to Satan or demons. All of those things fall under the umbrella of the occult, and when we’re talking about that, we have to look to the apostle Paul who tells us about idolatry and witchcraft.”
When he put it like that, it sounded so sinister and evil. There was no way that was what she was involved in. There’d been no talk of Satan or secret demons.
“When people try to become a part of the spiritual
world outside of what God has authorized us to do, they’re opening themselves to demonic oppression. Does that make sense?”
Joy couldn’t battle him the whole time or he’d wonder if she was a hopeless case. Maybe she was, but that was something she’d have to figure out for herself. “Yeah. I mean that’s pretty much what happened with me, I guess.”
“Yes, absolutely. We see this spelled out for us in First Corinthians where it says that the sacrifices of pagans are offered to demons, not to God. That’s talking about when people bring a sacrifice to an altar to earn favor with Satan. When people try to tap into the spiritual world in an unauthorized manner, then they are opening themselves to demons.”
“You said idolatry earlier. What does that have to do with all of this?”
“Good question. All the way back in the Old Testament, the occult started with idolatry. Building towers to worship other gods, making statues, often golden … those can all be idols. Idols can also be found in your heart, but for this biblical reference, they’re symbolic things that are worshipped.”
Wow. Did he ever give a simple answer? Joy might be more confused now than she was before.
“Sometimes, back then, and now, people would burn down the gold or another substance and form it into something that would represent and receive the worship. That’s all occultic. That’s what idol worship is.”
Ben waited. He watched for a response from Joy. What could she give him? Another question would probably thrill him right out of his pristine but off-brand shoes. “You made it sound like Paul had several places he addressed this. Are there others?”
Ben flipped forward in his chair, the back legs lifting. He yanked his Bible across the desk.
Simmer down. Don’t want to fall now.
“Yes. In the book of Acts there was record of a slave girl who got paid a lot of money by a fortune-teller. She chased after the followers of Christ and shouted things at them. Her spirits of evil could not coexist nearby their spirits of good. Eventually it bummed Paul so much, he stood up in front of all those people and demanded that the evil spirit flee in the name of Jesus.”
THE SHADOWED ONYX: A DIAMOND ESTATES NOVEL Page 21