New Wings

by Donna Stanley

  I glared at the beast. In the name of Jesus Christ, be gone!

  The demon let out a puff of putrid air and glared at me with yellow eyes. “Before your mighty friend kills me, I want you to know something." He let out a sinister laugh. “I was the one who escorted that boy Toby to hell!”

  With Mike beside me I wasn’t intimidated at all. I leaned over his gruesome face, dying to spit in it. “Yeah, well, you’re on your way there yourself, buddy.”

  “Do you know what hell is like?” he choked out because of the pressure Mike was applying to his chest area.

  Mike pressed the sword farther into the demon’s scaly skin, causing a low moan to escape his lips. But he didn’t finish him off yet. I knew he could, so why didn’t he? Was there something he wanted me to hear first?

  “Hell is a place where the loving influence of God is never felt,” was all I could manage to say.

  I felt a wing envelop my body. Mike’s touch gave me the courage to hear what I knew I would not like.

  Most of the funeral crowd was heading to their cars. Eden and Christina were far ahead of me. I’d been detained by this creature and couldn’t wait to get away from him.

  “Hell is not about physical pain, because there is no body to harm.

  Torment of the spirit and the soul are significantly worse. There’s no light to indicate the passage of time.”

  This was a new concept to me. Or was it a lie?

  I could think of many sleepless nights when God’s presence with me was my only hope.

  As if reading my mind, he snapped, “Yes, when you’ve had nights like that, you were comforted. There is no comfort in hell!”

  I glanced up at Mike. He gave me a reassuring nod.

  “Right now, Toby can’t feel anything but darkness. His mind and soul are slowly unraveling under the full weight of nothing. There’s no one to comfort him. In fact, to him, it feels like he’s the only one in hell.”

  I’d never thought of hell as anything more than the fire and brimstone I’d heard about so many times. I knew about being separated from God, but had never thought about the darkness. The absence of everything good.

  The demon let out a wicked laugh. “Oh, sometimes there’s a flash of light . . . a ray of hope, a speck of feeling. Then the lights go out again.

  Pretty soon you begin to hate the light.”

  I turned away, closing my eyes. I couldn’t imagine the torture that would be.

  “You could have prevented his fate, you know.”

  Accusation. That was what this spirit was all about.

  But was it all my fault?

  He’d gotten to me.

  “Go to hell, spirit of accusation!” Mike plunged his sword so deeply into the demon that he split in half. The force shoved his body into the gravel below him.

  The words of the monstrous figure echoed in my ears and covered me with chills. They held some truth, and I knew it.

  The weight of this responsibility for those who die without Jesus made the whole world seem to darken. My hands shook, and I was covered in sweat. Everything went black. My knees crumbled, and I fell to the gravel.

  When I awoke Christina and Eden were leaning over me, concerned looks on their faces.

  “You saw something happening in the spiritual realm, didn’t you?”

  asked Eden.

  I nodded, lifting myself up on my right elbow. “How did you know?”

  “I saw your eyes darting about inside during the funeral.”

  “I noticed that too,” added Christina.

  They assisted me to my car, then waited until I assured them I was OK to drive home.

  Mike slipped into the passenger-side seat. He was human-sized now but still had his armor on.

  He covered my right hand, which was on the steering wheel. I stopped shaking. “Do you realize you stared evil in the face and stood your ground?”

  “Pfft—yeah, and then fainted. I’m pathetic.”

  “Each time you’ll become braver. Trust me.”

  The words each time made me tremble again. “You mean I’ll always have to fight like this?” My voice quivered.

  “If you live in this world you will always be fighting the evil one.” Mike took my one hand from the steering wheel and clasped it in both of his hands as he turned to me. “I know that you must not think this is a gift right now. But it is the gift God has chosen to give you. And you must use it. For yourself and for others. You’re going to need it.”

  I swallowed hard, wondering when the next battle would come. Mike said I’d need it. Oh, no . . .

  When I opened my eyes, I saw nothing but blackness all around me. I stood and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I heard water dripping. I knew my bathroom didn’t have a leaky faucet, so I must be somewhere else—but where? I stretched out my arm and my hand touched a cold, slippery surface. It felt like a cave I’d once been in when I was twelve.

  When I could finally see in front of me I realized the water was coming from the ceiling and into a pool of water somewhere not far from me. I recalled this sound from the cave we’d visited that vacation long ago: each drip of water echoing as it splashed into the water below it.

  I took shuffling steps, wary of slipping on the damp floor. The cold water splashed onto my bare feet, making me shiver. I breathed in a musty, earthy smell, much like the caverns I had been in.

  A red glow came into view. Its source seemed to be around a bend just ahead. A child’s laugh echoed deep inside the cave. I hurried toward the voice and the red glow.

  A scream exploded in my eardrums. Icy fear shot through my bones. It sounded as if someone was being killed. I had to do something. But what would I find? Would I be harmed too? My curiosity helped me gather the courage to yell, “I’m coming to help!”

  I picked up my pace as best I could without risking a slip. If I fell and broke a bone I’d be useless to assist anyone. And then I wouldn’t be able to run away if some guy with a knife or something came after me next.

  I rounded the next corner and saw Toby standing in front of the red glow.

  I’m dreaming. Oh, thank God.

  His hair was matted with blood, his clothing tattered and torn. “You can’t help me.” His voice shook.

  I took a step closer. Toby’s eyes seemed to gaze right through me.

  Torn flesh hung from Toby’s forearm. Bruises, gashes, and open wounds covered his body. His teeth poked through a mangled mass of flesh on his face. I grimaced with revulsion and stepped back, clutching my arms around my body. I began to hold one hand out. “Toby—”

  “No!” His body convulsed.

  I backed up and shrank against the wall of the cave. Could I blink my eyes enough times to wake myself up? I tried, but nothing changed.

  His eyes widened in fear as he turned and looked at the opening of the cave behind him. When he turned back to face me, he whimpered, “They’re here!” He repeated those words over and over, his voice becoming fainter each time he said that phrase.

  A cloaked figure floated in, its long black cloak about five inches off the ground. It held a sickle in one hand. I hoped it didn’t notice me. He turned to face Toby, backing him against the cave wall. Toby screamed.

  A stream of green light shot out of the demon’s finger. Lashes of rope instantly appeared, forming restraints around Toby’s arms and legs. Toby wrestled against them and kept saying, “No, please don’t take me,” as the dark form pulled him into the shadows of the cave behind him. The red light faded. Toby’s screams did too.

  My knees buckled, and I crumbled into a pile on the floor with relief.

  I awoke in bed, my heart palpitating. My sheets were soaked in sweat, my chest heaving. What a horrible dream. I’m not surprised after my experience at the funeral. My subconscious must have still been thinking about Toby dying without knowing Jesus.

  I saw Mike sitting at the foot of my bed, Indian style, his chin resting in the palm of one of his hands.

  I sat up. “Wha
t’s happening to me?”

  “Your gift is gaining power. And God often uses your dreams to speak to you. You’re being prepared for the coming battle.”

  I hoped I didn’t have to battle anything like that creature in the cave I’d just dreamed about.

  “Pray for God to rule over your dreams before you fall asleep.”

  “I can do that.”

  “You know that Toby’s condemnation wasn’t your fault, right?”

  “Yes. But I still wish I could go back in time and talk to him about Jesus.”

  “I hope this gives you a deep passion to share your faith with as many people as God leads your way—before it’s too late for them.”

  I know where Toby is—but what about Phillip? “Where is Toby’s angel now?”

  “He’s been reassigned.”

  I wondered where. To another person? To another position in heaven?

  “Did he fail?”

  “No. Toby’s salvation was his own choice. But Phillip will grieve for a long time. He loved Toby the way I love you. He’ll mourn like a big brother who’s lost his little brother.”

  As Mike will weep for me, his little sister, when I die. I shook off the terrible mental picture that came to mind.

  “Will he ever see Toby again?” I guessed the answer but still asked.

  “No. Nor will Toby ever see God.” He shuddered. “Total and eternal separation from God is one the most harrowing notions imaginable.”

  Now that God’s presence was so strong in my life, I couldn’t imagine not sensing it. Without the Holy Spirit and His “still, small voice” in my mind, my life would be barren. As scary as this whole learning experience has been, I still would not change it for the world. I’ll never see things the same again. And I’ll be able to fight the enemy. And help others fight him.

  I lay back down and sank into my pillow. Mike sat beside me and took my hand.

  “Don’t you get bored just hanging around and watching me?”

  He grinned. “Does a dog get bored sitting at its master’s feet and following him from room to room?”

  I’d watched Bev’s Lab follow her everywhere she went. When Bev sat, she sat at her feet. She adored her. Of course, Mike wasn’t my pet. But his illustration made sense.

  “God asked me to watch over you. I don’t resent it, and I never get bored.”

  His face glowed as he tucked the blankets under my chin. “Now, get some rest. You’ll need it for the battles that await you.” Then he was gone.

  God, make me stronger so I can live up to the gift You’ve given me. Help me not despise it but instead treasure it because it comes from You. Help me to not have any more bad dreams tonight. And most of all, I want to say I love You.

  “I love you too.”

  God was talking back. I loved this. I’m not sure how I knew, nor do I think I could articulate it to another, unless they’d experience it themselves.

  Why me?

  “Because I chose you.”

  Will I get braver?

  “With Me, nothing is impossible.”

  That sounded like a verse that was hanging in our church hallway in the classroom wing. So that could have been God speaking, or Him bringing that verse to my mind. Either way, He had given me an answer. I’m scared.

  “I’ll equip you.”

  I’ll need it. Amen.

  Chapter 16

  WHEN I ENTERED my sister’s house for my usual babysitting night, Tessa ran into the kitchen, crashed into my legs, and gave me a big squeeze. She turned her head up for me to kiss her, which I did.

  “I missed you, Livvy,” Tessa squeaked.

  “I missed you, too, squirt.” Diane had been sick last Thursday, so we’d missed a week.

  My sister came down the stairs, wearing a red dress and matching heels. “Hey, Liv, how are you?”

  “OK.”

  I wished I could share what I was going through with her. But since she was so much older than me, we weren’t close enough for me to broach such an off-the-wall subject. I didn’t know how she’d react.

  After Diane and Brian left, Tessa took me to her bedroom to show me her latest sketches. My niece’s crayon drawings were really lifelike. Sometimes she drew with pencil.

  Tessa pointed to her newest picture, hanging on her pegboard. “It’s Petey.”

  Sure enough, there was no mistaking Petey. “That’s fantastic.”

  Tessa gave me her widest, toothless grin.

  My eyes wandered over the other pictures hanging on her wall. One was of a zebra, one was a tree, and one was of her parents. I was stunned at the detail of their faces.

  Suddenly an idea popped into my mind. “Can you draw an angel for me?”

  I expected her to respond eagerly to my request, as she usually did when I asked her to draw something for me. Instead, she shuffled her colored pencils in her hands. Her smile disappeared and was replaced with a frown. “The last one I saw scared me.”

  Oh, no. Not Tessa. It was hard enough for me.

  “I’m sorry, Tessa. Could you try just a quick sketch—if you want?”

  I felt selfish asking her to do this just to further convince me I wasn’t crazy. But I wanted to make sure I could explain it to her and help calm her fears. Maybe even teach her what I’d learned.

  Tessa stared at the floor and then looked up at me. “OK. But can we throw it in the trash can after I finish?”

  “Deal.” I’m almost afraid to see this.

  I sat on the floor and watched Tessa draw, using only her black pencil.

  As her hand flowed over the paper, she drew a cloaked figure with hollowed-out eyes, much like some of the demons I’d encountered lately.

  “That’s really good, Tess.”

  No smile. “Can we throw it out now?” Without even waiting for me to respond, Tessa crumpled the paper in her chubby little hands and headed toward the waste basket.

  “Tess? Are you afraid?”

  “Y-yes.” She then chewed on her pencil eraser, staring past me as if deep in thought.

  “Don’t be scared. Your angel is bigger and stronger than any of the scary angels.”

  She looked back up at me and seemed to be digesting my comment.

  “Do you believe me?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “If you ever see one again, you pray and ask God for your angel to kill him, you hear me?”

  She smiled thinly, then bobbed her head up and down, curls bouncing.

  “Can we play now?”

  “Let’s play house.”

  I resisted the urge to suggest she draw a nice angel. “Sure. You be the mommy.” I hopped onto her bed and stuck my thumb in my mouth and whimpered like a baby. Tessa chuckled and came over to stroke my hair.

  That broke the ice after our gloomy exchange.

  After playing house and hide-and-seek, we made paper boats and hats and then watched some TV. At eight we headed to Tessa’s bedroom, where I followed her nightly ritual: a drink of water we brought up from the kitchen, then a story, and a hug.

  “I’ll pray tonight.” I’d had a little practice lately, so it didn’t seem so uncomfortable anymore. I crawled into bed beside her and pulled the covers up to my waist.

  “How come? You never pray.”

  “Well, I guess I’ve been doing it more lately, so I’m more comfortable doing it out loud.”

  “That’s good, Livvy. You shouldn’t be shy about it.”

  She reached over and grabbed my hand and squeezed it as if offering her assurance that I should speak right up. I stared up at the dark ceiling.

  I decided I’d add my own prayer before reciting Tessa’s usual prayer. “Dear God, thank You for this day and the time tonight with Tessa. I ask You to protect her from the scary angel, and help her see the nice ones.” Then I began the usual recitation, “As I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I ask the Lord my soul to take. God, bless Tessa, her mommy and daddy, Petey, and—”


  I spotted a glowing figure with the outline of a man to the right of Tessa’s bed. The covers rustled as she turned in my direction. “Tessa? Is that him?”

  “He’s here!” Tessa sat up and clapped her hands, gazing at the glowing figure that now sharpened into an unmistakable angel.

  “He sure is.”

  “You see him too?”

  “Yes. He’s beautiful. You’re safe, sweetheart.”

  “Daniel, this is my Aunt Olivia,” she said with such ease you’d have thought she’d just introduced me to one of her friends from school. Well, they’ve obviously talked together if she knows his name.

  I stood to my feet. Do I put my hand out for him to shake it? He looked transparent, so I held back.

  I tilted my head, cleared my throat, and said, “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” I hoped that sounded respectful. I hadn’t chatted with any angel as much as with Mike, but I didn’t want to assume I could be so laid back with another one.

  Tessa jumped up and down and giggled. We all joined in.

  “Hi, my sweet Tessa.” And at that moment his body turned solid. From hearing his laughter I could tell her angel had a very high-pitched voice—almost childlike. He appeared to be younger than Mike. I guessed him to be around fourteen or so. He was dressed in a white peasant shirt with black, billowing pants that covered his feet. His shoulder-length hair was the same blonde as Tessa’s, with springy curls to match. One unruly curl dangled between his two emerald-green eyes. He brushed it aside and held out his hand to Tessa, who in turn ran and hugged him around his knees instead, like an old friend.

  Mesmerized by this sight, I found myself speechless. Daniel saved me. “Nice to meet you, Olivia. It seems you and Tessa share a gift.” He offered his hand, and I shook it. “It’s quite common for it to run in families.”

  I finally found my voice. “R-really? D-do you know an angel named Mike?”

  His smile broadened, showing the most perfectly white teeth I’d ever seen, which were all the more accentuated by his tan skin. “Why, yes, my friend Mike has told me so much about you.”

  Does that mean he told him good things? I always wondered when I heard that phrase. Obviously reading my thoughts, he added, “And yes, it’s all good things.”