by Mark Vance
“Well, come on home … dinner’s ready and I’d like you here before it gets dark.” she encouraged.
“On my way!”
Chapter Eight
Boomerang
“Put on the full armor of God, so that you can make your stand against the devil’s schemes.” Ephesians 6:11
The following afternoon, Steve is engrossed in preparations for his upcoming airline trip. After an uneventful night, he dares to entertain the possibility of an informal spiritual cease fire and perhaps a return to some semblance of normal. His musings and trip preparations are mundane distractions, both of which are interrupted by the sound of the front doorbell, and a male voice on the porch declaring …
“Federal Express! Package for Mr. Lacey!”
A chorus of agitated German Shepherds immediately reacts to the intrusion and driver’s declaration, barking incessantly as Steve makes his way downstairs. Passing the front door, he exclaims,“just a minute! I need to corral the dogs!” as he moves purposefully down the hallway toward the back door and the fenced yard beyond, with the German Shepherds following closely.
“Good pups! Let’s go! Let’s go!” he encouraged, opening the door and offering the dogs unfettered access to the back yard, but realizing no interruption to their barking refrain for all his effort.
Moving steadily back down the hallway toward the front door, he peers through the eye level peephole and confirms the presence of a uniformed Federal Express driver before opening the door.
“Sorry about that.” he declared. “They aren’t good with strangers.”
“Yes sir. Please sign here, Mr. Lacey … and again here.” the Federal Express driver prompted, confirming Steve’s signature before handing him a medium size package with odd handwriting on the shipping label.
“We aren’t expecting a delivery. Who is the sender?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
“Let’s see … all it says is the village of Black Hameldon, England.” the driver replied. “It was shipped three days ago.”
“Thank you.” Steve said uneasily, surveying the package in considerable detail, assessing its weight and potential contents as the Federal Express driver smiled and turned to leave.
“Have a good day, Mr. Lacey!” he shouted as he climbed back inside his delivery truck.
“Thank you … you too.” Steve replied, gingerly holding the package like it might detonate any second.
Back inside the house, he cradled the Federal Express parcel and walked very deliberately toward the kitchen at the rear of the first floor. There, he gently deposited the package on the kitchen table and stared purposefully at it for several seconds.
“What is it?” Kay asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway from the deck area and back yard.
“Where were you? Didn’t you hear the dogs barking?” he asked pointedly.
“Everybody in the neighborhood heard them. I’ve been working in the flower bed in the back yard.” she replied. “What is it? Were you expecting a delivery?”
“No. I haven’t the slightest idea what it is, only that it was shipped three days ago from Black Hameldon, England.” he replied warily, before carefully probing the package with a small kitchen knife.
“That could be good or bad.” she conjectured, watching Steve repeatedly perforate the package surgically before finally electing to open it.
“Here goes!” he declared, exhaling deeply before slicing through the last fold and opening the package.
“Isn’t that …?” Kay stammered.
“Well, I’ll be!” he gasped. “It sure is! It’s Ray’s Bible! I haven’t seen it since I mounted it on that crest overlooking the crash site. I never expected to see it again.”
“Are you sure it’s Rays?” she asked hesitantly, as he gently grasped the small, well-worn Bible and removed it from the Federal Express package.
“Oh yes, I’m sure.” he replied, pointing to the still discernible writing inside the Bible’s cover, displaying Ray Wilkins name and Army Air Corps. serial number.
“There’s a letter with it.” she said, retrieving a folded, handwritten, one page letter from the interior of the package. “It’s from a Mr. Ian McShane. Isn’t he the man you met at the Damion Pub that night with the horrendous story about being attacked by all the entities at the crash site?”
“Yes, that’s him.” he replied. “Why on Earth would he be writing me?”
“Well, let’s find out …” Kay said, as she began reading McShane’s letter aloud. “He says … Dear Steve Lacey, the grateful residents of Black Hameldon, England are returning this Bible to you and your family, with our heartfelt thanks for everything you did on our behalf at the crash site. We wanted you to know that we collected the fifty pounds British Sterling reward from the Scottish tourist and used it to purchase a brand new King James Bible from our local bookstore. The new King James Bible is now securely mounted where we found this one, and there was enough money left over to pay the shipping charge to return your Bible to you. The new Bible that we placed at the crash site seems to be just as effective at spiritually cleansing the area, and we want to say thank you to all the Lacey’s by returning this family heirloom to you with our best wishes and gratitude. I’m especially grateful that you ignored my ramblings and poor manners at the Damion Pub that evening and were able to successfully complete your investigation into the Black Hameldon Bomber crash. Everyone in the village wanted me to let you know that there have been no reported encounters with anything supernatural since your visit and we are extremely grateful for your efforts. I understand that this is the second time this Bible has been returned to America, and we hope that now it will be with your family forever. Thank you again for everything. Sincerely, Ian McShane …”
“Well, how about that?” Steve exclaimed, staring at the handwritten letter, as he simultaneously caressed Ray’s Bible. “I must say ... opening Ian McShane’s spiritual eyes is truly a miracle in itself. He was pretty crusty and unbelievably jaded about all of this. I didn’t think he had a letter like that in him.”
“What on Earth are you going to do with Ray’s Bible?” she asked curiously.
“I don’t know. I never expected to see it again. Maybe I’ll carry it with me in my flight bag with all the other manuals. It’s the ultimate operations manual.” he quipped, offering her a mischievous grin as he continued to caress the small Bible.
“That was awfully nice of Mr. McShane and the other people in Black Hameldon. We must be sure and send them a thank you note.” she prompted.
“Will do. I’ll try and …”
“Wait … did you hear that?” she interrupted.
“What?”
“Listen! It’s right above us!” she exclaimed.
Both of them stare dumbfounded at the ceiling for several seconds, and then at one another in wide eyed wonder, as the mournful sound of Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Serenade reverberates overhead. The haunting melody steadily increases in volume, accompanied by what sounds like a large gathering of shuffling feet and accompanying low pitched, unearthly voices.
“My office!” he exclaimed. “They’re in my office!”
“That’s the same song I heard when you were in England! No question!” she declared.
“Stay here!” he ordered.
Without pausing to assess the risk, Steve cradles his newly reacquired Bible, and makes his way purposefully down the hallway toward the main staircase. Reaching the stairs, he steps cautiously onto the first step, but the music doesn’t stop as it had when Kay tested and withdrew. Instead, it grows progressively louder. His office is still not visible from this position, but he is convinced that his private sanctuary has been invaded by a hoard of uninvited demonic guests, engrossed in seditious behavior, amid a backdrop of heartsick Glenn Miller music.
Clutching Ray’s Bible for spiritual armor, he proceeds cautiously up the staircase, pausing deliberately on each step to assess the unfolding situation ahead, as Kay recites Psalm 91 from memory, behind
him …
“If you make the Lord your refuge. If you make the Most High your shelter, no evil will conquer you, no plague will come near your dwelling. For he orders his angels to protect you wherever you go. They will hold you with their hands to keep you from striking your foot against a stone …”
Peering around the corner at the mid-point of the angled staircase, he stares in horror as over a dozen shadowy, satanic figures, clustered inside his office, sway rhythmically to the hypnotic music. Their guttural voices are boisterous and demonstrative, but indecipherable. To him, it is evident that their very presence is a fiendish attempt at dominion through intimidation. Undeterred, he continues moving carefully up the staircase toward his office, with Ray’s Bible strategically positioned in front of him, like the armor of God. Ahead of him, the eerie, shadowy figures continue to sway rhythmically as Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Serenade plays repetitively at an ever increasing volume.
Undeterred, he covertly closes the remaining distance, determined to reclaim his home and office from the unwanted, ghostly intrusion. Summoning all his faith and courage, he recklessly charges the remaining interval and forcefully enters his office, fully prepared to do battle to protect his home and loved ones. Instantly, he is confronted by fifteen pairs of seething red eyes, and an overwhelming sensation of crippling nausea that abruptly sends him impotently to his knees.
In milliseconds, he finds himself surrounded by a hoard of vile, abject evil entities, unable to draw his breath as unseen hands close around his throat. His inability to breathe quickly becomes both life threatening and overwhelming, as ghostly hands clasp viciously around his nose and mouth. Fighting for the breath of life is the only thing keeping him from vomiting uncontrollably in response to the crippling nausea. In an instant, his body collapses uncontrollably, face first to the floor, as Ray’s Bible drops heavily beside him. He is helpless, surrounded by overpowering evil that is bent on expressing its domination and extreme vexation. Motionless on the floor, he tries to call for help to rebuke the demonic hoard, but his words are choked off by the attackers and drowned out by the blaring music. All he can offer is gasping silence. Mere seconds into the much anticipated demonic counterattack, he has been reduced to a quivering mass of total surrender and helpless resignation.
“Lacey! Lacey!” the demons chant, as ethereal fists begin striking him forcefully from all directions and he reels from the physical onslaught and writhing pain.
Just as the hoard begins violently contorting his extremities, and with his vision narrowing from the deadly lack of oxygen, he bears witness to the sudden, glorious presence of an exquisite, majestic, beam of light. Its source is an absolutely magnificent looking, angelic being, radiating light as bright as the noon-day sun. The being’s overpowering presence instantly disrupts the ear piercing Glenn Miller music and repels all the demonic intruders that had been entrenched in his office. In addition, anything throughout the Lacey home, opposed to the will of God, is collaterally eliminated.
Within moments, he can breathe again, and the nausea that had caused his knees to buckle, slowly begins to subside. Recovering slowly to his knees, he gazes steadily into the gallant, regal face of a luminescent, other-worldly being, with piercing, yet comforting eyes, that completely inhabit Steve’s soul and spirit. Steve is awestruck and utterly captivated by the radiant, angelic being as it hovers nearby and boldly declares,“behold, I am Nathan, a charge of Gabriel. I have been sent to cast out those tormenting you. They are first among the hierarchy of darkness and not subject to your simple rebuke. Gabriel has now forbidden their presence from you and your family. You no longer have anything to fear from them. Stand and be well!” the angel proclaimed as its radiance began to subside ever so slowly, until it eventually disappeared altogether.
“Steve? Steve? Are you all right?” Kay shouted from the staircase.
“Stay there! Give me a minute!” he ordered, trying to gather himself and assess the safety of his immediate surroundings before encouraging her to enter. With his vision slowly returning to normal, his eyes sweep the room anxiously, looking for any sign of the threats that had dominated the environment only moments before. Then, he notices the first clock, and then another, and another, as his relief begins to take hold. Only after checking every timepiece in his office, does he feel confident enough to call out to Kay.
“It’s safe now! You can come up!”
Peering cautiously through the doorway, Kay is tentative and hesitant, still weakened from the encounter with the vile energy source that had completely disabled both of them so effectively.
“It should be all right now.” he offered with a weak smile. “Look at the clocks! The clocks!”
Still holding the door for support, Kay peers curiously at each clock and individually verifies that they are all operating normally. None of the clocks remain spiritually frozen at 3:24. All of them now reflect the correct time. Retrieving Ray’s Bible from the floor, Steve notices that it is miraculously open to John 3:16, the same page it was opened to at the crash site in England decades ago. The only evidence of the trauma that just transpired in his office is the slight weakness both of them are still experiencing.
“I’ve never felt anything so repulsive!” she gasped. “I thought I was going to puke all over the carpet! It must have been even worse in here!”
“Actually … I was more concerned with being strangled to death. Puking isn’t an option when you’re being strangled.” he joked, staggering to his feet and steadying himself awkwardly against the office wall.
“Who was that I heard talking to you?” she asked curiously.
“That was the most beautiful being I have ever seen. He said his name was Nathan, a charge of Gabriel. He stood right there shining like the noon-day sun.” Steve declared, gesturing toward the corner of his office.
“Gabriel?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Gabriel is an archangel, one of the most powerful angels in God’s army. Nathan must have been miraculously summoned by either Ray’s Bible or by my reciting Psalm 91.”
“Well, that makes sense. He said the fifteen demons that were here were first among the hierarchy of darkness and not subject to my simple rebuke. We were basically helpless against them.”
“What chance do we have against them if they aren’t subject to our rebuke?” she asked nervously.
“He said Gabriel has forbidden them from inhabiting our physical and spiritual space. It’s the ultimate restraining order.” he joked uneasily, trying to lighten the mood.
“What about Ray’s Bible?” she asked curiously.
“It opened to John 3:16 when I dropped it on the floor. Apparently, it’s arrival in the battle is one of the actions that summoned Nathan. Evidently, first among the hierarchy of darkness requires both spiritual armor and direct heavenly intervention to repel them. Now, we have both.”
“Are you going to feel like flying your trip tomorrow after all of this?” she asked, eyeing him warily.
“Oh, I think I’ll be okay to fly. It’s whether or not you feel safe here alone … that’s my main concern.”
“Well … if Gabriel and Nathan are watching over us, my faith is certainly strong enough to trust that everything will be fine. We were quite limited against the first hierarchy demons anyway, even together in our own home.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with it?”
“I’ll be fine. But, it occurred to me that I really do need to call my Uncle Wohali. I haven’t talked to him for several weeks and I’d really like to hear what he has to say about all of this. He’s not only a pastor, but a member of the Tribal Council of the Cherokee Nation. He and Aunt Awinita are two of the most spiritually minded believers that I know. They’re an hour behind us in Oklahoma, so I still have time to call them this evening.”
“Okay … tell them I said hello and that I’m on board with whatever he suggests. A different perspective from people that are that spiritually enlightened is always helpful.”<
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“I remember Uncle Wohali used to emphasize the power of a praying parent whenever he talked about employing the full armor of God. Your parents and grandparents praying for you undoubtedly led to your salvation and kept you safe all those years when you were a bush pilot. What you thought was the result of having Ray Wilkins as a guardian angel was more likely the result of praying parents.”
“Well … it certainly hasn’t been easy coming to grips with the fact that my supposed guardian angel was actually a demonic impersonator luring me toward eternal destruction. I’d much prefer to think that I survived all those life threatening experiences in an airplane because my parents and grandparents were praying for me.”
“If I know Uncle Wohali and Aunt Awinita, our prayer circle will grow quite a bit right after I talk to them. The Cherokee people are very spiritual and this is something they will likely want to share with their entire congregation.