by Robin Helm
Upstairs, Janna opened Elizabeth’s door quietly and peered into the room. She put her hand over her mouth and silently backed away, shaking with suppressed laughter. Janna hurried downstairs to find her mother in the kitchen and put her finger over her lips, whispering, “Shhhh! Come with me, Mom. You just have to see this!”
Curious, Lynne followed Janna back to Elizabeth’s room, and together they tiptoed over to her bed.
Elizabeth had pulled the covers over her head, and, right where her nose should be, she had taped a note. Mother and daughter leaned over together to read it, trying not to laugh.
To Janna
You hurt my feelings. You are mean, and you should say sorry! I am very mad at you. You were being ugly to me. Jesus is NOT happy!
El
Lynne and Janna clapped their hands over their mouths as hard as they could, but they could not stop their giggles from erupting.
Xander, Niall, and Alexis had rarely seen anything so funny, and they all wore huge grins. Moments such as these were relatively few for protectors, and they enjoyed sharing the mirth with each other.
Elizabeth threw the covers down from her face and glared at her mother and sister, her eyes flashing and tears spilling down her cheeks. They were laughing at her! She jerked the covers back up over her head. Humph! Now she was angry and embarrassed.
Janna lay down beside her on the bed and wrapped her arms around the stiff little form as well as she could. “El?”
Silence.
Janna glanced back at her mother, who arched one eyebrow and shrugged her shoulders.
“Ellie? I’m sorry for being mean to you, and I’m sorry for laughing. Please forgive me. I love you so much.” Janna’s soft voice was contrite and pleading.
More silence, followed by sniffles and snubs. Suddenly, Elizabeth wriggled away from Janna and dramatically flung the covers away, marching off to the music room with her little nose in the air.
“I’ll show you I can do it!” she announced, gathering her dignity about her like a robe. It might have made more of an impact had she not been wearing the Jasmine costume.
An odd parade of sorts followed behind the small, extremely determined child, marching down the stairs to the music room. No one, angel or human, wanted to miss whatever would happen next.
Having arrived at her destination, Elizabeth climbed up onto the piano bench with great effort. Neither Lynne nor Janna dared to offer her help for fear of offending her further.
She sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap for a moment; then she reached up and began to play. No one was laughing anymore. There was total silence except for the mesmerizing sounds coming from the piano.
Lynne’s jaw dropped. Elizabeth played “Reverie” nearly perfectly, from memory, making mistakes only when her small hands were unable to reach the octaves, causing her to play two notes instead of three. Even more astounding was the pathos with which she played. A five-year-old should not have such depth of emotion. And her technique is amazing! She can’t reach the pedals, yet she is playing the piece so smoothly that no one would ever miss the pedaling, and she’s improvising to make up for the smallness of her hands.
When she finished, Elizabeth looked up with an “I told you so” expression. She giggled when she saw Janna’s mouth forming an “O” and her mother’s hanging open. What she could not see was the trio of angels wearing similar expressions.
When they had at last found their tongues, Niall whispered, Absolutely amazing. Alexis answered, Truly incredible. Xander was too moved to speak. Her music had touched him deeply.
“Elizabeth . . . how did you know you could do that?” asked Lynne in a strangely quiet voice.
Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead in deep thought for a moment before replying, “I don’t know. I just knew I could. I think God told me.” She lifted her shoulders. “Didn’t you like it? Didn’t I do good?” Her eyes begged for approval.
“Darling, it was wonderful!” Lynne moved quickly to gather Elizabeth close and reassure her.
“Did you like it, Janna?” Elizabeth asked, peeping at Janna over her mother’s shoulder.
“I loved it, El. Now I really am sorry. You were telling the truth, and I didn’t listen. I promise to listen to you from now on. I love you. Are we okay?” Janna’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“Yep!” Elizabeth chirped, wiggling out of her mother’s hug, hopping down from the bench, and running to Janna to grab her around the waist. “I love you more. I win!” she proclaimed, looking up at her sister’s face, eyes shining with happiness.
Lynne began Elizabeth’s piano lessons that same afternoon. She skipped the primer books altogether, and had finished grades one and two by the end of the hour. Music theory was really what Elizabeth needed to learn, and she was soaking up all her mother could teach her like a sponge. Once she understood notation, she played anything in the intermediate levels at sight.
As soon as David, along with Roark, was home from the church, Lynne relayed the day’s events to him. He had been a little cynical at first; Lynne did tend to exaggerate sometimes. Roark knew that it was the absolute truth, as he had shared the minds of the other three protectors as the event had taken place.
However, as David stood at the door of the music room and listened to her play, he realized that Elizabeth was truly gifted; she was a prodigy.
He knocked on the door, opened it slightly, and peeked in at his small wonder.
“Hello, El. That’s really good. I like to listen to you play,” he said casually. “How would you like to learn to sing, too?”
“Daddy! Do you really mean it? Would you give me lessons, too?” She beamed at him with pure joy.
“If you would like for me to, I would,” her father replied, smiling at her.
“Yes, yes, yes! I love music! Let’s start now,” she said eagerly.
David spent the next hour with his younger daughter, learning humility. He had majored in theology, but had also minored in music, specifically vocal performance. His young daughter was far more talented than anyone else he had ever known. She had perfect pitch, and her voice had a wonderful, bell-like quality. The sound stirred his emotions, bringing tears to his eyes.
From that day forward, no one had to search very hard to find Elizabeth; she was usually in the music room, playing everything she could get her hands on, or singing while she accompanied herself.
~~~~~~~~~~
About an hour’s drive away in Charlotte, Gregory Wickham was also proving to be adept in his training, as well as far beyond his years in his accomplishments. Among the group of Satanists to which Cathy and George Wickham belonged were brilliant scientists, mathematicians, linguists, martial arts experts, sorcerers, musicians, witches, warlocks, physicians, and artists of all sorts. They were all more than willing to share their knowledge, gifts, and skills with the son of the Dark Lord.
Gregory had a mind that thirsted for everything they could offer him. His body moved gracefully and he enjoyed submitting himself to physical tests and training. It was as if the beautiful boy were a vacuum, sucking everything around him into the vortex of his darkness. He excelled at everything he attempted, and he attempted nearly everything.
He learned to be human, but he also learned to use his demonic side. Gregory could transform at will, charming people into doing nearly anything he wished with his hypnotic eyes and voice. The half-demon boy loved to fly through the walls to soar high into the atmosphere and look down at the world his father had promised him they would rule together.
Cathy and George were careful to file all the required paperwork with the state to support homeschooling Master Gregory. No one ever questioned them about it; all was in order.
Chapter 8
“But Jesus called for them, saying, ‘Permit the children to come to Me, and stop hindering them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it at all.’”
Luke 18:16-17
Spring, 1996
Lucifer paced back and forth in the center of the warehouse, his guards hovering around his path, the black-cloaked principalities with their captains kneeling before him. His onyx satin robes flowed behind him, swishing against the floor as he turned again and again. The Dark Lord shook with uncontrolled anger, his eyes glowing crimson, making no attempt to disguise his rage. There was absolute silence, as no one wished to draw his attention.
Not only did the girl still live, but also it was Passover, the time of year he had hated with every fiber of his being for nearly two millennia. Every year, the words from Genesis 3:14-15 rang in his ears, as if he were hearing them for the first time.
‘And the Lord God said to the serpent, because you have done this, cursed are you more than all cattle, and more than every beast of the field; on your belly shall you go, and dust shall you eat all the days of your life; and I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed; He shall bruise you on the head, and you shall bruise Him on the heel.’
Lucifer remembered Jesus’ final days on the earth as if it were yesterday instead of almost two thousand years ago. He thought that he had won, that he had confounded the prophecies, when Jesus had died on the cross, but he soon realized that he truly had been bruised on the head when the Christ had risen from the grave three days later. Jesus had conquered death, hell, and the grave, and Lucifer had tasted defeat. To his further chagrin, Christians had instituted a holy day during Passover as well, calling it Easter and celebrating the resurrection.
But it was far from over in his mind. Though he had lost that battle, Satan still had a plan to win the ultimate war, and that brought his thoughts back to the girl. She should be dead already! He threw back his head and howled in fury as he continued to pace, working himself into a frenzy fueled by anger and hatred.
Vega had been waiting for this summons with dread for the past year. He had tried desperately, over and over again during the past five years, to kill the human girl, but Xander had thwarted him at every turn. Her death consumed him, and Vega’s terror at his failure to complete his assignment controlled his every thought. The huge demon waited hopelessly for the inevitable. In one way, it would be almost a relief to give up the struggle and be consigned to the oblivion that was outer darkness. He was utterly convinced that no one would be able to accomplish the Dark Lord’s wishes concerning the girl. The only thing Vega would hope for was that Xander would someday share his fate. He despised Xander with all the passion of his evil being. He wanted to smite the guardian himself for frustrating all of his carefully laid plans.
Vega was not the only one who had been awaiting this meeting. The entire demonic realm knew of his impotence and eagerly looked forward to his punishment. Vega had no friends in the ranks. He was known to have sacrificed the lives of many demons in order to preserve his own. The other dark angels smirked, though their heads remained bowed, faces hidden beneath their hoods. The spectacle that would spell the demise of Vega would be most entertaining.
At last, Lucifer stopped abruptly in the center of the room, his blood-red eyes flashing a warning to any who would dare to speak. He lifted his chin, his demeanor haughty and arrogant, and fixed his icy gaze on Vega. The underprince shivered involuntarily from the coldness of his master’s voice. His time had come.
“Vega, you can have no doubt as to the reason for this assembly.”
There was total quiet. No one moved; not even the slightest sound was heard.
“Vega! Approach me.” Satan’s voice was steady and deadly.
Every head lifted to watch Vega slowly rise and move to kneel before their master. They salivated at the thought of what was to come.
“You pathetic creature. You have failed me for the last time,” Lucifer spat out, suddenly extending his right hand and holding his index finger and his thumb together.
Vega began to choke and sputter, unable to speak.
Lucifer touched his fingers together with a little more pressure.
Vega crashed to the floor, clutching at his throat with both hands, his eyes bulging. His legs jerked in spasms.
Lucifer pinched the tips of his finger and thumb together tightly while gradually raising his arm. He stared at Vega with disgust, as if he were an insect to be squashed under his boot.
Vega levitated limply in the air, his head falling to one side and his tongue lolling out, as though he had been hung from a gallows. There was a puff of black smoke, and Vega was no more in this world.
The crowd of dark angels exhaled audibly. Their master was magnificent. No one could stand before him, and their admiration knew no bounds. Loud cheers and catcalls vibrated the rafters and echoed through the empty space.
The Dark Lord raised his hands; the silence was instantaneous.
“Nyx! Step forward,” Lucifer commanded.
The tall ebony angel obeyed at once, a glint in his black eyes. He had tired long since of playing second place to the fool, Vega.
“Nyx, you are now underprince in Vega’s stead. See that you do not follow his example of failure. Do not make me angry, Nyx. You would not like to see me angry,” growled Lucifer.
“I will succeed, my master,” said Nyx with a swagger.
“That would be wise,” Lucifer replied succinctly, one eyebrow raised.
Lucifer turned on his heel and flew through the beams of the warehouse, faster than eyes could see, accompanied by his ever-present henchmen, their midnight cloaks quickly disappearing into the darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~
Pensively, Xander walked beside the Bennet ladies as they left home, musing over Elizabeth’s thoughts that morning. The beauty of his countenance was marred by a slight frown. Her dreams were disturbed last night. She does not seem happy now, either. Something is bothering her, but, oddly enough, all I sense is her fear. Why can I not hear her thoughts clearly? She is too young to have reached the age of accountability.
Niall and Alexis followed the little procession. They heard Xander’s worrying, but it seemed that he was always overly anxious about anything concerning Elizabeth.
It was Easter Sunday, and the daffodils and jonquils were in bloom. The dogwood trees again told the legend of the cross with their scarred petals. It was the time of rebirth.
Normally, Elizabeth would have been excited about her new Easter outfit, a beautiful white dress with lace scallops around the waist and hem, and tiny pink rosebuds on the bodice. Her mother had curled her hair and caught the sides with pearl clasps, letting it flow down her back in dark spirals. She wore new white patent leather shoes with her white tights. However, she was too distracted to enjoy her Easter finery, and her expression was glum.
She is even more beautiful today than she usually is. She loves to dress up. Why is she not happy? Xander asked himself.
As Lynne and her daughters walked to Tabernacle Church for Sunday morning services, Elizabeth tugged on her mother’s sleeve and asked seriously, “Mommy, can I sit with you in big church today?”
Lynne looked at her daughter’s upturned face. Puzzled, she asked “Don’t you want to go to children’s church and hear Miss Lolly tell the Bible stories? You always have fun in there, and you wouldn’t have to sit quietly for so long.”
“But, it’s Easter, and I want to go with you and Sissy. I promise I’ll be good. I want to hear Daddy sing today. He told me he’s singing the special, and I want to hear you play the piano, too, Mommy. I can listen to Daddy preach. I promise I’ll be good,” she pleaded, her soulful brown eyes entreating her mother.
“You’ll have to sit with Janna during the welcome time and congregational singing. Will you behave for Janna?”
“Yes, Mommy. I can be good, if I try very hard.”
The trio of angels nodded at the truth of her words. Out of the mouths of babes, thought Xander.
~~~~~~~~~~
Xander, Alexis, Niall, and Roark stood along the wall closest to the pew that held Elizabeth and Jan
na. As they had entered the sanctuary that morning, the angels of the various church members had saluted one another in greeting. The other light beings had seen Xander hundreds of times now, but they still showed the Chief Guardian the utmost respect and deference.
As they all took their places near their charges, the entire auditorium glowed gently with the light exuded from the hundreds of guardians. The presence of so many holy angels gathered in one place caused a spirit of warmth and love to settle over the congregation.
After Lynne had played for the congregational singing, she joined her daughters to hear David sing “Does He Still Feel the Nails?” Elizabeth listened intently to her father’s beautiful baritone and thought about the meaning of the words he sang. Are my sins making Him feel the nails in His hands and feet over and over? Her tender heart was moved as she visualized her sins nailing Jesus to the cross. My sins are hurting Him, she thought sadly.
Xander remembered standing by Mary as the soldiers had nailed Jesus to the cross. He could still hear the sounds of the hammers as they drove the nails through His flesh and into the wood. Niall, Roark, and Alexis relived those hours at the cross through Xander’s memories. They bowed their heads in respect for what the Son had suffered willingly to save mankind. Any of the angels present that morning would have been honored to have ministered to Jesus during that time, but He had refused all attempts to alleviate His pain. As God the Father had turned from Jesus while he bore the sins of the world, the Son had been alone until His death. It was the only time in all of eternity that the Father and Spirit had been separated from the Son. The Trinity had experienced true agony during that time.
Xander thought solemnly of the words Paul had written in Hebrews 2:9, 14-15, ‘But we do see Him who has been made for a little while lower than the angels, namely, Jesus, because of the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor, that by the grace of God He might taste death for everyone. Since then the children share in flesh and blood, He Himself likewise also partook of the same, that through death He might render powerless him who had the power of death, that is, the devil; and might deliver those who through fear of death were subject to slavery all their lives.’