SUNDAY, MAY 7 – The next morning, Sunday, the two girls awoke at Amy's house, and Amy pulled the pregnancy tests out of her drawer, while Susan remained in bed. “Well,” Amy said, holding the tests up in front of her, “wish me luck.” And she headed for the bathroom.
It occurred to Susan that she should try praying, and so she said quickly, “Dear God, please don't let Amy be pregnant.”
But it was not to be. Within an hour, as the girls dressed, both tests confirmed that Amy was, in fact, pregnant.
When the first test turned positive, Amy sat on the bed, staring at it. Her first emotion was a genuine thrill, that a new life was actually growing inside her. How incredible! But then, like a pump evacuating water, the reality of her situation pushed the momentary joy right out of her and kept it out, almost completely. “I can't have a baby now,” she heard a voice screaming inside her. Soon she began to cry. “Susan, what am I going to do? My parents will kill me if they find out. How could this happen to me? We only did it one time! I wonder what Billy will say!” she laughed derisively, sensing his answer. Turning to Susan, she said, “You can't tell anybody—and certainly not your parents—until I figure out what to do. Do you promise?”
“Yes, of course,” Susan answered, sitting beside Amy and putting her arm around her shoulder. “You, Bobbie, and I will figure out what to do.”
“Do you think we should tell Bobbie?” Amy asked Susan. “She will be so disappointed, and I know she'll want me to have the baby. And I just don't think I can do that.”
“Yes, I know. But she already knows what you've done, so I don't think she can be any more disappointed. And we've been best friends for so many years. I think we should try to work this out together.”
Amy nodded her acquiescence and wiped her tears with the tissue Susan offered. “Now we better go downstairs for breakfast,” Susan concluded, smiling as best she could, “or your parents will think that something strange is going on.”
When Tommy arrived home after lunch on Sunday, he seemed to be so withdrawn that even Richard noticed it. Smiling, Tommy offered a grunt of a hello to his parents and went immediately upstairs. Richard and Janet exchanged glances over the Sunday newspaper. Their relationship had healed a bit. Last night at home after the symphony had been particularly happy and enjoyable for Janet. It made Richard feel good too, but it also made him feel more like a heel, particularly remembering the way Kristen had behaved at the symphony. At any rate, he was able to accept Janet's next statement without any hostility.
“Richard, Tommy has gotten to be like someone in another family. You've really got to spend some time with him,” she said quietly.
“You're right,” Richard readily admitted, putting down the newspaper. “And I guess I'll start now.” He rose and headed upstairs.
Richard knocked on Tommy's closed door and thought he heard a mumbled “come in” over the loud rock music, which had begun only seconds after Tommy had come home.
“Hi, son,” Richard said upon opening the door. “How's it going?”
“Huh? Oh, fine, Dad. Just fine. But I've got to study for this English literature exam we have tomorrow.”
“Well, would you like to take a break and go throw the baseball in the backyard? Or maybe we can get Brent and hit some down at the park.”
“Well, Dad, I'd like to. Maybe later. But right now I've got to study for this test, since I haven't even read two of the stories yet,” Tommy said, pleased to be able to disappoint his father for once, in the same way he had been disappointed so many times.
Dismayed that anyone would wait until the day before an exam to read the required stories, Richard felt his pulse quicken a bit, knowing as he spoke that it was a mistake, “OK, Tommy. But how can you possibly study for an exam with this loud music playing?”
Tommy just shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know, Dad, but somehow I get it done. Maybe my brain is just different from other people's.” And he looked back into his book, signaling that he had to study.
Richard closed Tommy's door and retreated down the stairs to the den.
“I blew it,” he said to Janet. “I went upstairs trying to spend time with Tommy, and instead we managed to make each other mad. I guess I've lost my touch as a father.”
“At least you tried, dear,” said Janet, sympathetically. “I admit that I've lost touch with you. None of us can replace all of those lost hours in a twenty-minute baseball toss, or, in our case, one great night together. But the good news is, you tried. Maybe that will register with Tommy. You've got to keep trying. He's probably going to test you, to see if you really mean to spend more time with him, and in the beginning it will probably be rocky, just like us, perhaps. But please keep trying. And also don't forget Susan and me. We like having you around too.” She smiled encouragingly.
Richard knew that Janet was right, and the positive events of the last two weeks combined to keep his possible anger in check. Instead, he accepted her criticism in the constructive way it was offered and resolved that he would try harder.
“You're right. I'll keep trying, and you keep reminding me,” he smiled back. “I'll even give Tommy an hour and then ask him to play ball again.”
Richard meant well, as did Janet. Unfortunately, Nepravel, who had been listening from the ceiling, had different plans for them and for their family.
* * *
Amy called Bobbie on Sunday afternoon and told her the news about her pregnancy. Bobbie was very concerned and told Amy that she would pray even more diligently for her. Amy smiled and suggested that she pray for a miscarriage. Then, more seriously, Amy asked Bobbie to meet her and Susan at lunch on Monday, which of course Bobbie agreed to do.
That night Amy had a hard time sleeping. She felt like such a fool. What had she been thinking? And why did this have to happen to her? And on her first time? It was so unfair…her father would be so disappointed in his only daughter, if he ever found out. Nepravel had the voices spinning loudly in her head. After crying quietly for more than an hour, she decided that crying was not going to solve her problem. She had some tough decisions to make, and it occurred to her that she needed some specific information. To get some peace, she finally got up and wrote down the steps she would take and the people with whom she wanted to talk. Putting those concrete thoughts in her notebook at least let her get a few hours of sleep.
MONDAY, MAY 8 – Richard had not been in his office very long the next morning when his private line rang. “I enjoyed meeting Janet,” Kristen said into the receiver, the strained enthusiasm in her voice obvious. “And I hope you enjoyed meeting Peter.”
“And just who is Peter?” Richard responded too quickly, realizing as he spoke that his voice sounded as jealous as he felt.
“Oh, I think we're a little jealous, Richard…Peter happens to be an old friend whom I dated years ago at the end of college. Is there anything wrong with that? After all, I've only got one man, unlike you, who shares his bed with two women.”
“Have you…have you and Peter…been…?”
“No, Richard, not for many years. He was a good boy Saturday night and went home to his hotel room. Why? Does that bother you?”
Richard knew he was trapped and that he sounded stupid. But the feelings were still there, and his male ego had been working in overdrive where Kristen was concerned since Saturday night. “No, well, I know you must have another life, but I guess I never really thought about it. And we've never talked about your past or present boyfriends,” Richard added, fishing a bit.
“I'll be delighted to reveal my complete, sordid past to you, anytime you like,” Kristen said, lightening her tone. “And…” Richard could feel her smile through the telephone. “I don't have any real boyfriends now except you, which is why I want you all to myself so much. What's going on with you and Janet? When are you going to leave her? She doesn't make you happy. We are getting together tomorrow, aren't we?”
Richard had firmly resolved the previous evening, after spending a wonderful weekend at home with Janet, to find some reason for canceling his luncheon appointment with Kristen on Tuesday. But now he had been trapped by his own conversation. “Of course, I'll be there, now that I know there won't be three of us,” he returned her levity, and wondered for just a second how he was ever going to change having two women.
The three of them found a table in the corner of their large high school cafeteria and put down their trays. They were joined for lunch by Pitow, the demon in charge of their school, who had been alerted by Nepravel.
“Well,” began Amy, “the main thing I've decided to do is not to panic. Not to make any decision for a few weeks. And to try to think through what my options are.”
“How do you feel?” asked Bobbie. “Do you feel any different? Are you hungry all the time?”
“I have noticed a few differences. I get tired easily. My breasts are a little heavy, and my stomach feels fuller than normal. And, yes, I have a pretty good appetite. But that's about all, other than a little queasiness sometimes in the morning.”
Susan had such mixed feelings. Obviously it was awful what Amy had been through and was about to go through. But she nevertheless could not help feeling a little bit jealous, in a strange way, of Amy's experiences. Amy was already living what she did not expect to experience—had not even imagined to experience—for several—no, many—years. Susan felt both intrigued and hopelessly inadequate that Amy was sharing her experience with them and looking to them for advice.
“And I'm definitely not going to tell my parents, at least not now. Not until I decide what to do. They would go crazy, especially my father.” Pitow nodded his dark, smoking head in agreement.
“So far, I've thought of the following things…” and Amy ticked them off on her fingers. “I've obviously got to talk to Billy and find out what he thinks. Then I'm going to talk to the school nurse about what's involved with an abortion.” She glanced at Bobbie, who looked back at her but did not otherwise change her expression, other than to make a slight frown. “And, Bobbie, I want to talk either to your priest or to your youth leader or whomever you think best, so long as they'll talk with me confidentially.”
Susan was again struck with Amy's sudden maturity. A seventeen-year-old who only the day before had been weeping on her bed, now was explaining a reasonable plan of action for determining what to do about her own life, as well as the life of an unborn child. Susan marveled at the transformation.
“And, when I talk to Billy, I definitely want one or both of you to be there,” said Amy, looking at each of them in turn. “I have no idea what his reaction will be, but I doubt it will be very positive.”
“Of course,” said Bobbie. “I certainly agree with what you're planning to do, but I think you should consider telling your parents now, instead of later. I'm sure they will be upset for a day or two, but eventually they will have to help you. They know so much more about these things than any of us does, and they will want to help.”
“No way,” replied Amy, tapping her finger on the cafeteria table. “And if you are even thinking about telling them, or your own parents, then please don't, and please just leave and forget about all of this. I mean it, Bobbie.”
The emotional flare-up was short-lived, but it registered with Susan. Amy was going to have to be handled with kid gloves, she could tell.
“Oh, no,” said Bobbie. “This is your call. I just thought I'd let you know what I feel. Please don't get mad when I do that. I love you and just really want to help you, but maybe there are others who can help you more.”
“Yes, the school nurse and a priest,” said Amy. “But not my parents. They will be so disappointed. I just cannot face them right now, OK?” The other girls nodded.
“Now I'm going to call Billy and tell him I want to meet him somewhere this week. Then I'll call you guys, and hopefully at least one of you can be there.”
Susan and Bobbie looked at each other and again nodded. “You know that we'll do everything we can for you,” Susan said, as they picked up their trays and headed for their afternoon classes. Pitow would report that night that the hellish plans were progressing as they had expected.
As he walked down the hall at the end of classes that day, Tommy was continuing the debate he had been having with himself since Sunday morning. His experience Saturday night had been so intense, so overwhelming. All of them had eventually participated together as a group, just like on the video. It had been wild, and he couldn't take his mind off of it.
He had liked it so much. Did that mean he was a homosexual, part of the alternative lifestyle that his sex education class had studied only last week? Or was this just an aberration, something that happened once, perhaps as with other boys his age, but then would never happen again? He actually smiled when he thought of what his dad would say if he knew. “Boy, that would get him.” Hey, his dad had thrown the baseball with him, after asking twice, yesterday afternoon. Big deal! What about all the times he had stood him up? All of the unfulfilled promises, all of the games he had missed? The voices were winding up inside Tommy when Roger suddenly appeared next to him. “Hey, big guy. The same bunch is going to get together over at Derrick's house this Saturday night. Do you think you can figure out a way to make it?”
Tommy looked at Roger and a voice, planted by Nepravel and spun by Pitow, said “Why not? It's fun, it feels good, and it sure beats sitting at home and doing homework.”
“Sure,” Tommy said, smiling. “I'll talk to Brent, and we'll see if we can figure a way to get there. Thanks.”
TUESDAY, MAY 9 – On Tuesday, shortly after Richard had his usual date with Kristen, his daughter Susan and her two friends waited for Billy at the same table in the park from which Jeff had flown his kite less than a month before. It was a beautiful afternoon, and Susan could not help watching the mothers with their young toddlers playing in the nearby sandbox and on the climbing toy, imagining that Amy could be one of those mothers while she was still a teenager.
Billy parked his car and walked up to join them a little after four, surprised to find Susan and Bobbie sitting with Amy.
“How ya doin’?” He waved to all three with a smile. Their set expressions and the lack of movement out of Susan and Bobbie told Billy that this was not going to be a happy occasion.
The three girls waved politely as he walked up. He awkwardly bent down and kissed Amy on the cheek, like a husband returning home from work. Susan felt that was strangely out of place in the park, but perhaps more appropriate than he imagined, she reflected.
“Hi, Billy,” said Amy. “Glad to see you. Please sit down, so I can let you know something.”
The girls had not really meant it, but Billy wound up sitting across the park table from the three of them, with Amy in the middle.
“Listen, it's best if I don't beat around the bush. I want you to know that I'm pregnant.”
Susan had to admit that Billy didn't miss a beat. There was no change in his expression as he brought both of his hands up on the table in front of him.
“Oh, I see,” he said, looking first at Amy, then at the other two. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, two tests have confirmed it, and now I can feel it myself.”
“And I guess you've told Susan and Bobbie that I'm the father. Are you sure of that too?”
Susan was flabbergasted. Bobbie started to stand up, clenching her fists, but Amy put her hand on Bobbie's leg to stop her. “Yes, Billy,” Amy said with some sting in her voice. “You are definitely the father. Either that, or, excuse me, Bobbie, we will shortly have the second virgin birth in just under two thousand years.”
There was silence for a moment between them. Billy looked down at his hands as he alternately changed the position of his thumbs. “Well, OK,” he finally said. “What do you want to do?”
“I guess that it's ultimately my decision,” said Amy, again mustering the maturity that Susan had first felt the previous day. “But I would very much like to have your input. Can you imagine, for example, that we would get married and raise a child? Could either of our parents raise it? There are apparently a lot of people who want babies. Should I have it and put it up for adoption? Or should I just get rid of it and hope that I feel like it never happened?”
Again there was a long silence. Billy was obviously thinking. “Well, if I have a vote, I vote for an abortion. I'm finishing my freshman year in college, and as much as I like you, I can't imagine us getting married and raising a family. I don't think I'm ready for that yet.”
Susan knew it was not all his fault, but she nevertheless thought to herself that he should have considered that particular point of view several weeks earlier.
“Well, if I do have an abortion and it costs something, will you help pay for it?”
“Sure, uh, sure. Of course,” he added with more decisiveness. And with some relief, it seemed to Susan, since it appeared for the moment that abortion was to be the resolution of the problem.
Bobbie, who had not said anything yet, now spoke up. “I know that neither of you wants to hear this, but there is a baby living inside you now, Amy. He or she did not ask to be there, but it has happened. That baby is alive, just like the four of us. God has made him. Abortion may ‘solve the problem’ for you, but what about the baby? I hate to spoil it for you, but you will be killing that baby.” Her voice rose slightly and she turned to Amy, her difficulty in speaking apparent to them all. “I hate this situation as much as you do. I wish it hadn't happened. I know having the baby would create all sorts of problems for you. But many, many other girls have gone through these problems, and a year later their lives are seemingly back in order. Some couple would love to adopt your baby, Amy. Please don't compound one terrible wrong by making an even greater mistake.”
While Bobbie spoke, Billy blanched, then spoke. “You can't really be serious? Have the baby? How old are you anyway, Amy? Seventeen? That's absurd to imagine.”
“It's obviously a lot simpler for you if Amy has an abortion,” Bobbie said, her anger rising. “But maybe you should have thought about that earlier. Now there is a baby to think about, and you're just thinking about yourself.”
“Now, Bobbie,” said Amy, placing her hand over Bobbie's hand. “I told you we came here to find out what Billy wants to do, not to lecture him. If you're handing out lectures, then you better lecture me as well. Anyway, he's not going to make the final decision. I am. And I haven't decided yet, although I do think an abortion does make the most sense for us, in our situation. But,” raising her hand to interrupt Bobbie's attempt to argue, “I told you that I also want to talk to your priest, or to someone. So please look into that. But please be discreet.”
“Well, you know where to find me, Amy,” said Billy. Sensing that he should be nice to her, since she was soon going to make a decision which could significantly affect his life, he added, “Would you like to go out one night this weekend?”
“I don't know,” she said. “I guess I can't get any more pregnant, can I, Billy?” she said acidly, as a bit of the anxiety she had kept under check for the past few days finally came out.
Billy turned red and looked at the other two girls, who were smiling “at-a-girl” smiles at him. “No, Amy,” he defended himself. “I like you, and under the circumstances, I thought you might want to go out and have dinner, that's all.”
“Well, thank you, Billy. Let me think about it. I'm genuinely a little confused now.” The control crept back into her voice. “That will probably be fine, but this hasn't been the easiest few days for me, and I need to think. I'll call you tomorrow, OK?”
“Sure, sure.” And Billy rose to leave. He started to lean over toward Amy, then could not quite manage it and instead just held her hand for a moment, turned, and left.
“Well, we have now confirmed where he stands. I guess we should all go home and study. I'll try to set up an appointment with the school nurse during seventh period, which we all have free, in the next couple of days, if you'd like to come along.”
Susan finally spoke, “Yes, Amy. We've gone this far together, we might as well see it all the way through. You know we want to help you.”
Having literally considered matters of life and death at the playground that afternoon, the three teenage girls returned to their homes to study French verb forms and the underlying causes of World War II.
Upon returning from “lunch” at Kristen's, Richard found that Robert Meredith was one of those who had called him at midday. “Listen, Richard,” Robert began, when Richard returned his call, “there's a small group getting together at my office on Wednesday mornings for three weeks, to talk about Ben Fuller's message. We'll have coffee and doughnuts and be finished by 8:45. Would you like to join us?”
Richard thought about it. He really thought about it. He was about to say maybe, when a voice inside him told him that even if he wanted to find out what that mechanical contractor had found, he certainly had no business talking about God when he had a mistress on the side, one whose perfume he could still smell from less than thirty minutes before. Men who seemingly talked to God wouldn't understand someone like him. The voice told him that if he ever wanted to have a relationship with God, he had first better take care of this mistress situation on his own. Then, maybe God might be interested in talking with him. But for now, there was no chance that God would have anything to do with someone like him.
“Listen, uh, Robert. I, uh, really appreciate your asking me. I certainly enjoyed Ben Fuller's talk, and it obviously had a tremendous effect on some of the men there. As I said on that card, please keep me on the mailing list. If you ever have another prayer breakfast, I'd like to try to come. But I just don't think I'm prepared to get involved in any kind of regular meetings or anything.”
“Well, OK,” said Robert, with obvious disappointment in his voice. “But if you'd ever like to have more information or ask any questions about what Fuller was talking about—I mean about letting God come into your life—please feel free to call me. Any time. I mean it.”
“Yeah, thanks. I certainly will. Goodbye.” Richard thought that Robert's voice sounded so certain, so in control of his life. Unlike Richard, who was trying to balance two women, a difficult law practice, a son who seemed to be withdrawing from him, and a daughter…a daughter who seemed OK. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe Bobbie Meredith, Robert's daughter, had something to do with his own daughter's apparent stability. Maybe so, he thought.
Yes, once he took care of the situation with Kristen, he might definitely give Robert a call and have breakfast with him. Try to find out what this stability, this peace really was. But God would definitely not want him as he was. So first he had to clean up his life, then find out about God.
As he put aside those thoughts and picked up another briefing file, Nepravel, who had floated in with Richard from Kristen's apartment, congratulated himself on this ruse, which he had used thousands of times in the past.
“If they start to look like they're leaning toward the truth,” Balzor had reminded them on many occasions, “give them the Unworthy voice. It lets them think temporarily that they are on the right track, but it keeps them squarely under our control, without any help from Jesus or those cursed angels. And nine out of ten times they'll eventually forget about it and be right back where they were within a month.” Yes, Nepravel thought. Unworthy was a great voice. And the great thing about it was, it was universally applicable to all of them!
FRIDAY, MAY 12 – That Friday afternoon at lunch in the high school cafeteria, Amy told Bobbie and Susan that their regular school nurse, Mrs. Simpson, had gone to a conference all week. Amy had not wanted to talk with the substitute.
“Mrs. Simpson will be back on Monday, and I'll try to set up an appointment for us early next week. I guess time is marching on,” Amy said.
“And I'll talk to Glenn Jamison, our youth leader on Sunday morning,” added Bobbie. “You'll really like him, Amy. He's young, has a wife and two children. He's a neat guy. Everyone in our high school group really likes him. I'll see if we can meet him one afternoon after school, maybe at the yogurt shop.”
“Thanks, Bobbie. I think maybe the park, or even his office, would be better. I hate to talk about something like this in the yogurt shop, where some of our friends might come in,” said Amy.
“Sure, OK. I'll talk to him and give you both a call on Sunday afternoon.”
“Janet, it's all set up,” said Bill Shaw, standing in the doorway to her office.
For a moment, she was uncertain what he was talking about. A questioning look confirmed it.
“You know, the ‘911 Live’ test run. It's all set up to take place here in two weeks, and I've been able to wrangle the four of us permission to chase along with the equipment, sort of adding a local interest to the network production. I told them that we could use the footage to promote the show here in the city. It's scheduled for Friday next week. Are you still on?”
“Yes, of course,” Janet replied. “I had just lost my train of thought for a moment. What time are we supposed to get together?”
“Probably about 5:30 in the afternoon. The network show in the fall is scheduled to run for ninety minutes, but it will have ten cities to pull input from. Since this test run will only take place here, they're going to give it four hours, from seven until eleven that evening. Will you tell the others?”
“Sure, Bill. And thanks for setting this up. I really appreciate your fair-handedness.“
“Of course. It's the only way to manage a creative bunch like you. Fair-handedness…” He smiled as he left her doorway.
That weekend, Amy surprised her parents by accepting their invitation to spend a couple of days together at their mountain home. She had decided that whatever the next weeks would bring, this might be one of her last chances to be with her parents as she used to be, their innocent teenage daughter. She had called Billy and told him that she certainly wanted to see him again soon, but this weekend she needed to be away. He had understood and had immediately asked her out for the following Saturday.
Susan and Bobbie had individual dates with Drew and Thomas. Each of them needed a little familiar territory after the tension of dealing with Amy's adult problem.
SATURDAY, MAY 13 – Kristen had flown to Dallas. She had said on Thursday that it was to visit her family, but Richard couldn't help suspecting that perhaps she was going to visit Peter.
Richard and Janet went to Tommy's baseball game on Saturday afternoon. It was the first game Richard had attended that season. He was proud of the way Tommy handled a long fly ball in the third inning—his throw to the cut-off man was right on target, and that boy then threw out the runner at the plate.
“Maybe I ought to talk to the coach about Tommy playing in the infield,” Richard said under his breath in the stands.
“No, I don't think you should,” Janet patted his hand. “Let's just let Tommy handle that.”
After the game, Richard and Janet congratulated Tommy and Brent on their win and on the fine plays they both had made.
“Would you boys like to go get a hamburger?” asked Richard.
“Thanks, Dad,” Tommy replied, not wanting to annoy his father. “After we get cleaned up, we were planning to go to the mall with Brent's brother, to the food court and to the arcade,” he lied. “Is that OK?”
“Sure, sure, Tommy. That'll be fine. You boys have a good time. Just don't stay out too late.”
With both children gone, which seemed to happen regularly now, Richard and Janet decided to go to a movie themselves.
It was, all in all, a normal weekend, with one great exception. Tommy was being dragged further and further into a group of boys whose way of dealing with parental problems and adolescent rejection was to band together and to spend every Saturday night experiencing fantasies and each other—in a way which seemed right only because they imagined themselves to be rejected by those whom they loved, or by those whom they wanted to love.
What could have been an understandable one-time adolescent experience was instead becoming a way of life for them. When Tommy arrived home late that Saturday night, he felt even more cemented to this particular “alternative,” because for the first time he had become an active, not just a passive, participant.
That evening, at their regular rendezvous over the city, the demons were a pretty contented and self-congratulatory group. Nepravel and several others reported major advances in the destruction of families along their streets.
“I think the prayer breakfast has almost blown over,” reported Tymor. “As we all know, there were some immediate conversions ten days ago, which is highly regrettable, but understandable. Happily, due to the hard work of so many of us, no major revival was kindled. Several of the new converts have been confused. Unworthiness has played a great role there. And the follow-up has been generally ineffective, because most of the hosts never went to see their guests face to face, nor really tried hard to interest them. So, exalted leader, I think we can generally stand down from the alert which the prayer breakfast caused us.”
“Yes, yes,” Balzor agreed. “And our city leader, Alhandra, agrees and sends his congratulations as well. But, my bitter ones, we must always be on the lookout. There are still a couple of churches in our sector that are preaching the Word. Every week a few more people find out the Truth and are saved from the dark eternity that awaits most of their neighbors.
“We've almost done it. Almost. Just a few more years like the last twenty out of the government, the media, the movies, the records, and the unsaved ministers, and then virtually every city in America will be as dark as night, twenty-four hours a day! These people are so confused! It is truly fantastic. To think how simple it would be for them to beat us, if only they could grasp it! And to think of the lies we have to weave in their lives to keep them from it. You are to be congratulated for the work you have done, particularly with this last generation. We really have almost done it. Our task is to keep destroying these local families, while others work on the nation's leaders, in the government and in business. With this two-pronged attack, we cannot lose!”
The demons left that night feeling better than they had in weeks and prepared to take up their positions for Sunday morning, when there were always special duties to perform to distract families from attending church.
SUNDAY, MAY 14 – “And does anybody have any prayer requests for this week?” asked Glenn Jamison, the youth minister at Morningside Church. Several of the more than eighty students—they had averaged only about twenty each week a year ago—raised their hands.
The group had finished the morning's lesson on Lazarus and the rich man, from Luke 16. Glenn had pointed out that this was one of several times in the Bible when Jesus himself referred to hell and to the choice people had to make. It had been a difficult lesson, but the kids, as usual, responded with serious attention when he treated them with respect and demanded the same from them. Most of the kids really liked Glenn's combination of playfulness and seriousness, and this had been one of the serious times.
“Yes?” he said, as Bobbie raised her hand.
“I know someone at my school who is pregnant, and I want us all to pray for her and for her baby.”
Thomas Briggs, sitting next to Bobbie, was surprised by her request, and he wondered who it might be.
After several additional prayer requests, the group broke up. Some of the students went to the sanctuary to attend the main service. Others left in groups for an early lunch together. Bobbie lingered behind and buttonholed Glenn as he neared the door.
“Glenn, the girl I asked the prayer request for…Do you think you could meet with her and me and one other friend to discuss her alternatives?”
“Of course, Bobbie.” Glenn put down the books he was carrying. “When would you like to get together?”
“How about one day this week, uh, say maybe Wednesday? Would you mind if we came to your office? She's afraid that someone will overhear the conversation in a more crowded place.”
“Sure, Bobbie, Wednesday will be fine.”
“Thanks, Glenn. She's very confused about what to do, and I'm afraid the rest of us haven't had any experience with this. We'll see you about 4:00 in your office, and I'll call if there is any change.” Bobbie hurried off to join her parents for the 11:15 service. Quite often she joined her friends for lunch at this time, after the youth group meeting, but this week she felt the need to worship and to pray with her family. And the sermons of their pastor, Reverend Michael Andrews, usually inspired her. She at least had always understood his sermons, which had not been true of his predecessor.
The congregation of their church had doubled since Reverend Andrews arrived three years earlier. “It's because he speaks the Word, and people have missed it around here, like water,” her father had explained. “Once they finally drink some, they want more and more.” Now that she was seventeen and had listened to Michael for three years, she certainly understood and agreed with her father. And then Glenn had arrived a year ago and done the same thing for most of the high school students. As she knelt in prayer and their service began, she hoped that the Lord might have the same effect on Amy, on Susan, and on their problems.
It was Balzor's habit on Sunday mornings to inspect personally several of the churches in his sector, alternating between them, at least the ones he could go near.
As he floated down through the cathedral-like ceiling of St. James Church for their midmorning service, he knew that he did not have to fear the wrath of an angel in this particular place. There were so few prayers coming from this church that an angel would never be able to appear. He watched with glee as his demons carried out their work, managing the voices in the pews with complete impunity.
“Imagine!” he thought, “Who would have thought, just one, or at most two, generations ago, that I and my demons would be running around inside this church on Sunday morning? Why, back then it would have been unthinkable. This place used to be alive with worship and prayer. I can remember when there were ten or twenty angels swarming all around this building, and not just on Sundays. No demon in his right mind would have come near this place. But here I am today, inside and enjoying every minute of it!”
Looking down on the congregation, he could see one or two flickers of light inside a few saved souls. But most of them happily looked like they were either asleep or dazed. The sermon appeared to be about halfway over.
“And while Jesus was certainly one of the greatest teachers who ever lived, hasn't it got to be arrogance on the part of the established church over these many centuries to claim that He could be the only way to salvation? Jesus said not to boast, and I tell you that it is arrogance and boastfulness which have led the church to proclaim that Jesus provides the only ‘Way, Truth, and Life.’ It is clear now from scholarly research that that particular passage was added to the Bible several hundred years later, by early church authors who were trying to set up the Christian church as the political counterweight to the Roman Empire.
“How could God provide only one vehicle for salvation? Thus, Jesus may be a way, but surely there are others. Far be it from us true Christians to boast and to hold our heads above our Buddhist, Hindu, and even our Jewish brothers! Pray daily, as I do, that the One God of All Religions will move mightily among us and save us from such bigoted hypocrisy.”
“Bravo, bravo!” clapped Balzor silently from the ceiling. “I couldn't have said it better myself! If that's not confusion, I don't know what is.”
He was so pleased that he sent his demons away. “Forget about the voices here. This pastor is doing a great job without us. You can leave here and go find some people who might be going to one of the few real churches left in our sector, and discourage them. These people here are in fine hands.”
Balzor wanted to stay to hear more, but he had to pull himself away to go check on some other churches. One place he would steer away from, of course, was Morningside Church. Even from his low altitude, hopping from church to church, he could see the intense white light of the angels who were gathered around Morningside, claiming it as Holy Ground. Those people pray all the time, and we'll never get through all the angels covering that place. I hate it, but at least we're down to just two or three churches like that in the whole sector. When you think that only twenty years ago there were forty or fifty, we've made great progress!