by K. T. Richey
Call Matthew.
She shouted as loud as she could for Matthew, not caring who heard her.
She watched as the students began to file into her classroom. She sat back and took a deep breath and prayed silently for the strength to get through two more classes. As the bell rang, Bethany ran into the classroom.
“Just in time. Miss Holloway, Amber is going to be late. She ran down to the dungeon to get her book bag she left there this morning.”
When Misha heard “Amber” and “dungeon” something shocking went all over her body. Her hands trembled. Goose bumps rose on her arms. “Where is Amber?”
“She went to the dungeon to get her book bag. She left it there after gym class.”
Misha sat down at her desk and began class. After calling the roll, she handed out a worksheet and sat quietly at her desk, watching the students trying to locate the answers in their book. Suddenly, she heard a scream and jumped. This startled the class.
“What’s up, Miss Holloway? Did you go to sleep?” one of her students asked her and the class laughed.
“No. Did y’all hear that?”
“What?”
“Did y’all hear a scream?” No one in the class heard the scream. Misha sat back and tried to grade some papers. She heard it again. “Did y’all hear it this time?” Once again she was the only one who heard the scream. She sat at her desk and an urge came over her to go to the dungeon. She told the class to continue working and she walked out of the school toward the dungeon.
She cautiously walked into the dimly lit building that smelled like something had died in there. She yelled out for Amber. No one answered her. She decided to check the showers before she left. As she walked around the corner she saw Amber. Her hands and feet were tied with jump ropes. Her mouth had duct tape on it. She ran to Amber and removed the tape. She then untied Amber’s hands and was working to untie her feet when she heard Amber scream her name. Misha turned around and saw a man with a ski mask pointing a gun at her.
The man directed her to move away from Amber. When she heard the voice, she immediately knew who it was: Mr. Heckler. He had on a jump suit but she noticed the emerald beetle bug-shaped cufflinks sticking out from underneath the arm of the jumpsuit. She stood her ground. He demanded her to move. She stared deeply into his eyes. She knew it was him. She knew those blue eyes.
“Mr. Heckler. I’m not moving. You’re going to have to shoot me. I know it’s you. I know your voice, your eyes, and those cufflinks. They’re the same ones you wore that day in the office. I’m not going to let you touch this child.”
“Well, you know who I am? I’m just going to have to kill you,” he said, pulling off the ski mask.
Amber screamed. He yelled to her to shut up and pointed the gun at her. Misha ran toward him and grabbed his arm. His arm flew in the air and the gun went off. Misha fought him with everything she had. He punched her in the face so hard she fell to the floor. He began hitting her repeatedly. Misha lay on the floor, screaming for God to help her.
Misha yelled to Amber to go get help. Amber struggled to untie her feet and ran out the door. Misha swung at Mr. Heckler with all her might. She wasn’t going to let him kill her. After a few minutes, she could no longer struggle with him and lay helplessly on the hard, cold cement floor, crying and praying.
“Shut up,” Mr. Heckler told her as he stood and looked around. He noticed Amber was gone and he began yelling profanities and kicking Misha in the side. He ripped her clothes off her. Misha closed her eyes and prayed. The pain of his body pressing against hers ripped throughout her every being. She tried to push him off of her. But, he kept violating her body as if he were trying to penetrate her soul. She continued to fight him with all the strength she had left, hoping and praying that someone would arrive soon. Her strength was failing her.
It seemed as if hours had passed as she endured his repeated abuse when she heard someone calling for him to come out. Her arms flung in the air. Weak and distraught, the room got dark. Her strength left her and she could only call on the name of Jesus to help her. Each time she said “Jesus!” she felt empowered.
“Shut up. I’ll kill you. I promise. Shut up.” He stood up and began pacing the floor. Misha continued to call the name Jesus. “Shut up. I told you. I’m not playing with you. Shut up.”
Misha did not stop. She continued to call Jesus as loud as she could. He leaned down and put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger. It did not go off. She continued to call the name of Jesus. He pulled the trigger again. It still did not go off. He looked up and jumped back as if he had seen something that frightened him. He crawled backward to the opposite wall.
They could hear the people outside pleading with him to release her. He sat on the floor against the wall, breathing hard. He pointed the gun at her again, pulled the trigger, and it did not go off. He dropped his hand into his lap, staring blankly at her.
He stood with the gun in his hand and laughed. “You should have gone out with me. We could have had a good time.” He turned and walked toward the door.
Chapter 24
Misha’s year had started with such optimism. She had just known God had worked and would continue to work things out for her. She had been enrolled in college. She was learning how to quilt and had finally gotten over her breakup with Roger. She’d even found a church she liked. Her ministry and life appeared to truly be looking up. Then of course, out of nowhere, the bottom fell out again.
She had health problems. A man who had a history of being a sexual predator had raped her. To make matters worse, she had been out of work over a month due to the rape and the school district denied her workers’ compensation claim, stating she should not have been in the dungeon at the time of the attack.
Judy’s brother, Eric, who was her attorney, tried to reassure her that this was common in workers’ comp cases. He filed an appeal of her claim and was planning to sue the consulting firm the State hired. They never checked the background of Mr. Heckler before they hired him.
She was slipping into a deep depression. She had no one to talk to. She did not want to burden Judy. She had her own problems with her pregnancy. She was still having difficulty communicating with her mother. Whenever she tried to talk to her, her mother accused her of being a big sinner and told her God was punishing her. She definitely did not want to worry her grandmother.
She sat in her apartment, feeling the full impact of being alone. She looked at her arms and legs. The bruising from the beating was gone. Her face did not show signs of being hit. Yet she still felt naked and exposed to the whole world. She asked God what she did that was so bad she had to be punished like that.
She had not attended church. Sherrell, the singles minister, came by once and prayed with her. She also called at least once a week to see how she was doing. She encouraged Misha to return to church. Misha did not want to call her because she knew Sherrell was a single parent and probably had a lot going on in her own life.
Misha dared not to venture out of her house alone. She was afraid that everyone could see straight through her. She felt so naked to the world, as if everyone knew she was the teacher who was held hostage and raped. The media ran the story over and over. They even ran connecting stories about school safety and background checks. It was weeks before they finally let it go. One thing she was glad of in the whole situation was she did not have to face a trial. Heckler was dead, killed by the police after he shot at them. She did not think she could survive a long public trial. Two good things came out of this horrible situation: police told her Mr. Heckler was HIV-negative, and Amber was not raped. This is what God had been showing her for months.
One night as she lay crying in her bed she began to question God about everything that had happened to her. She became angry with God. She told God how she saw people living in the worst possible way being blessed all around her. Yet, she was trying to live a life that would glorify His Kingdom and she had so much pain and was alone.
Get
up and encourage yourself in the Lord. I am sending you back to Washington to minister the gospel to the sick. You will not have to do it alone, for I have appointed you to be a help for such a time as this.
“God, you’ve been saying that. Yet I don’t see anything happening. I don’t know if I can take much more of this.” She began to cry.
I am all that I am. I would not let you die for I am faithful. I will do what I said I will do. Call Matthew and he will surely come. The two of you will go forth and preach the gospel to this generation.
Misha fell off to sleep with God’s promise in her spirit.
The next morning she awoke and sat up on the side of her bed. As she stood, she felt lightheaded. She sat down on the bed until the room stopped turning around. She reached for her robe that lay across the foot of her bed, pulling it on as she walked into the kitchen and fixed a bowl of cereal. She sat curled up on the sofa, watching a morning news show, trying to eat the cereal. The taste of the cereal was making her nauseated. She smelled the bowl to see if the milk was sour. This made her even sicker and she ran to the bathroom and vomited everything she had eaten.
She lay down on the bed, trying to make the room stop turning. She asked God to help her. After a few minutes, she tried to stand up but the room kept spinning. She was afraid to call anyone. Everyone she knew would assume the worst. She couldn’t deal with any negativity today. She concluded in her mind she probably had a virus and decided to stay in the bed the rest of the day.
She rested until the early afternoon. She was feeling much better so she decided to get up and eat something. Her stomach was growling loud enough she thought the people in the next apartment could hear it. She looked in her cabinet for something light, like chicken soup. She did not want to upset her stomach again. Unable to find soup, she made herself a sandwich and waited for it to come back up. She tried to busy herself moving the boxes around in her spare bedroom, when she heard her phone ring. She saw it was Judy.
“Hey, Judy. How you feeling?” Misha tried to sound cheerful for Judy. She did not want to upset her in any way.
“It’s not Judy. It’s Randy. Judy wanted me to call you and let you know she had the baby.”
Misha gasped. “She had the baby? She’s not due now. Is everything all right?”
“Judy’s fine. She’s up and walking around. Our son, he’s tiny. But he’s doing good. He weighs three pounds, five ounces. He’s going to be in the hospital a little while.”
“How are you doing?”
“As well as can be expected. Tired. We’ve been here all night.”
Misha wanted to run to the hospital but she remembered her stomach virus and told Randy she was sick and would try to make it the next day. She called Judy’s room to see how she was doing and told her she would visit her later. She went online and ordered some flowers to be sent to Judy. She sat around her apartment, debating whether she should go out and purchase a present for the baby or stay at home. She couldn’t stay in her apartment forever. The thought of going outside frightened her. She decided to stay at home and order a gift online.
The next morning when she got up she felt sick again. She groaned as she got back into her bed after rushing to the bathroom to throw up. She called Pam and asked her to come over because she was sick. She stayed in the bed until she heard a knock on her door. She slowly walked to the door, not bothering to comb her hair. She opened it and Asa and India ran into the apartment grabbing her legs in a tight hug.
“You shouldn’t have brought the kids,” Misha said.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay before I took them to daycare.”
“I think I have a stomach virus. I keep throwing up. I hope they won’t get it.”
“Did you take your temperature?”
“I don’t think I have a fever. I just feel weak and nauseated.” Misha walked over to the sofa and sat down. “This has been going on a couple of days. How long does a stomach virus last?”
“That depends on what type of virus you have. Have you called your doctor?”
“Not yet. I wanted to see what you said.”
“Call your doctor. I think you’ll be okay until I get back from the daycare. Put some clothes on. I’ll take you to the doctor.”
Misha watched as Pam pulled the children away from her and left the apartment. She groaned and fell onto a pillow on the sofa. She didn’t feel like getting dressed. She forced her body up and called Dr. Trinidad’s office. She was told they would work her in and she should come as soon as possible.
Misha sat on the exam table in a room she was so familiar with. Pam tried to make conversation, but she wasn’t listening. Dr. Trinidad walked into the room.
“Well, Miss Holloway, I have the results of your tests. Your body healed well from the attack and the surgeries.”
“Then what is it? I was feeling bad when I came in. Now I’m feeling much better. I think I may be able to eat something now.”
Dr. Trinidad walked over to her. Misha could see the look of concern on her face. “Miss Holloway, based on your symptoms, I decided to run a pregnancy test.”
“Pregnancy test? You told me I couldn’t get pregnant.”
“I told you it would be difficult for you to get pregnant naturally. The test was positive. You’re pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” Misha and Pam yelled at the same time. Pam jumped up from the chair she was sitting in. “Pregnant. How can she be pregnant with the cancer and all?”
“Well we can run the test again. I’m pretty sure you’re pregnant.”
“Oh my God. I’m pregnant by a rapist. No, this is not happening. What did I do that was so bad I’m being punished like this?” Misha said shaking her head from side to side. She cupped her face in her hands and began to cry. Pam walked over and rubbed her back, trying to console her.
“Could you be pregnant by anyone else?” Dr. Trina-dad asked her.
Misha shook her head no. “Before the attack, I hadn’t had sex in years. I was trying to be a good Christian. No one will ever let me preach now that I’m pregnant.”
“As your doctor, I need to advise you of your options.”
“Options?”
“If you decide to keep this baby, I will classify you as a high-risk mother and we will follow you more carefully than we would someone without your medical history. This could be a difficult pregnancy.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Then, there is abortion if you choose to terminate this pregnancy. I don’t do them here. Under the circumstances, I can refer you to a clinic that does them.”
“Pregnant? Abortion?” Misha placed her face into her cupped hands and continued to cry. Pam caressed her shoulders.
“Doctor, I think Misha needs some time to think about this. Can she get back to you?” Pam asked.
“I understand. Here’s some information about the clinic if she decides to terminate the pregnancy.” She handed Pam a brochure, some discharge instructions, and prescriptions for prenatal vitamins and medication for nausea. She left them alone in the room and Misha wept bitterly.
“It’s going to be fine. Come on. I’ll take you home.”
Misha lifted her head. “Pregnant? How can I be pregnant?”
On the ride home Misha sat silently, crying. Just when she thought her life could not get any worse, it did. Now she was a single female minister and pregnant. How would she explain this to everyone? She never thought she would ever consider abortion. But today, this was her one and only option.
“Misha, it’s going to be all right. We’re here for you,” Pam said. She reached over and gripped Misha’s hand.
“I don’t know what to do. I’m pregnant by that crazy man. How could this have happened?”
“Whatever you decide, I got your back. If I were you, I would get an abortion as soon as possible.”
Misha knew Pam was only trying to console her. But it wasn’t helping. If you were me? How could you say something like that? This is my body. My baby, Misha thought as she sat in the c
ar, looking out the window. Pam reached down and turned on the radio to break the silence in the car.
“Whatever you’re going through, God’s worked it out for you. He’s never let you down. He’s there . . . all the time.” The voice rang out from the radio. Misha listened to the words of the song as tears flowed down her face.
“That Bernard Taylor can sing,” Pam said as she turned the radio louder.
“Who?” Misha sniffed and wiped the tears from her face.
“Bernard Taylor. That’s him singing this song.”
“Oh.”
They continued their journey when they came upon what looked like a mob scene outside the Remnant Church. The police had the traffic stopped and news trucks were parked alongside the road. Misha sat up in her seat, looking at the mass of people with picket signs. For a brief moment, it made her forget her troubles. Pam rolled her window down and asked someone what was going on. They found out someone had secretly videotaped the pastor talking about the congregation. He referred to the black members as dumb niggers and laughed about how he got people to give their money to fund his lavish lifestyle. The angry lady told them they were demanding he resign as pastor and asked the police to do a criminal investigation of him and the church.
“That’s what they get for running with every wind that blows,” Pam said as they watched the angry crowd in front of the church.
Misha remembered what God had told her to say that Sunday. They were warned. These are the same people who treated her like a common criminal and kicked her out of the church and warned her not to return. She did not feel sorry for them. She only felt sorry for herself. After a few minutes, the traffic began to move and Misha finally made it home.
She paced the floor, asking God for clear direction. Her mind was so confused. She wanted to do the right thing. What was the right thing? She did not know. She wanted her child to grow up in a loving home with two parents who loved him and cared for him. She never wanted to be a single parent. She certainly did not want to conceive a child in this manner.