TWENTY-ONE

BEFORE I COULD READ through Ray Anne’s text a second time, Betty called and insisted I come over, even though it was almost midnight.

I ventured inside my place to grab my keys, which thankfully were by the door.

Betty and I sat at the breakfast table in her cozy, rooster-adorned kitchen. She asked me how I was doing, and I spilled my guts, telling her everything about my father and Lucas, too. Then I delivered the big news about Arthur —how all this time, it was her ancestor who’d been appearing and guiding me. She became teary eyed but kept quiet as I explained Ray Anne’s unfortunate reaction to the whole situation and how she would bring up Bible verses that couldn’t possibly apply to what I was experiencing. And I told her how Gordon had gone so far as to punish me by moving the Bible study out of my place —so ridiculous.

When I finally paused, mainly to catch my breath, Betty started rebuking me. Rebuke, I learned, is a churchy term that basically means someone tells you you’re flat-out wrong and that you’ve totally blown it. I can’t say she was mean about it —she didn’t outright insult me —but she did side completely with Ray Anne and Gordon, and at one point, even referred to my actions as ignorant.

I pushed back from the table and paced her kitchen floor —covered, by the way, in the same glistening footprints that had first led me to Betty at Masonville High. “I don’t understand any of this. It’s like everyone I know and trust is warning me not to trust others I know and trust.” I slammed into my chair and bent over, dropping my forehead onto a spongy place mat. “It’s so freaking confusing.”

I remembered what Veronica had said about how I would have to choose sides. It irked me to admit to myself that she’d been right.

Betty leaned over and put her hand under my chin, lifting my head to look at her. “I don’t know if that old black man in the woods is an angel or some kind of demon, but I can promise you this: he isn’t Arthur. My great-great-granddaddy is in heaven, with the Lord.”

Just like Ray Anne, her mind was made up. Mine was all over the place.

Betty sat with me in the silence for a while, giving me comforting pats on the shoulder. Had I been even a little bit younger, I think I would have begged her to adopt me. “I can help you out of all this confusion,” she said. “But right now, I need to show you what I found today.”

I followed her into the living room, fully engrossed as she explained how, in the final hours of his life, Arthur had shared something with Dot —his granddaughter, Dorothy —that was so important, he had her write it down word for word. Betty opened a desk drawer and pulled out a small envelope. “I drove to my relatives’ house in Louisiana, where Dot keeps some of her belongings, to get this.”

She motioned for me to sit by her on the sofa. “Arthur told Dot God had given him a message —crucial instructions for a future generation. As a young woman, Dot vowed to him that she’d hold on to it. Arthur believed there would come a day when the message would find its way into the right hands.”

Betty teared up again as she took my hand and placed the envelope in it, only these looked like happy tears. “Go on.” She smiled. “Read it.”

I stared at the timeworn envelope, aware I was holding something invaluable. I removed and unfolded a delicate piece of paper, then proceeded to read words that dated back more than sixty years. It was like time stood still.

This is the written testimony of Arthur Washington, a free man and servant of God. As I near the end of my life on this earth, the Lord has revealed to me things that weigh heavy on my heart that I believe are sure to come to pass. I have asked my granddaughter Dorothy to write them down, in the hope of alerting and encouraging a generation not yet born.

I paused to take a deep breath, sensing this would be a defining moment.

The forces of darkness occupying Caldwell’s land will remain and multiply over time until someday, a great many people will be attacked, suffering such hopelessness and torment that some, especially the young, will take their own lives. There will also come an act of violence on the land so tragic, news of it will spread quickly around the world.

Dan’s mass shooting. I gulped.

Though it troubles me to say it, I am certain that slaves will once again be bought and sold on Caldwell’s land.

Slavery? I didn’t understand that part.

But take heart! Two young bearers of light will receive the call to action, both given eyes to see. They will know when the spirit of death —Molek, the ancient principality —has strayed from the land, and they will gather the townspeople there and act swiftly on the sacred promise given long ago:

“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.”

Then Molek will be banished from the town forever, along with his army, lifting the burden of concentrated evil off the people of Masonville.

I had to take a time-out and look up from the letter to come to grips with what I’d just read. Try to, anyway. First of all, Arthur’s predictions about modern-day Masonville were spot on. Way too accurate to dismiss as a random hunch.

Then there was the shocking reference to two light bearers. I faced Betty on the sofa. “He has to be talking about Ray and me. We’re the ones called to take action.”

Betty nodded, teary eyed and grinning.

I had to stand. The letter shook in my trembling hand. I paced circles around the coffee table, marveling at how the solution had been there all along. I recognized that sacred promise. I couldn’t tell you its chapter or verse or even what book of the Bible it came from, but I’d read it before. I just never thought to take it literally, if that makes sense.

Then came a daunting reality check. “Molek’s gone from the land,” I told Betty. “So this prayer thing on my property —whatever it’s supposed to look like —it needs to go down now.” I stopped pacing and faced her. “But, I mean, how are we supposed to explain this to people? And what if we can’t get them to gather on my land in time, before Molek comes back?”

Betty’s grin faded, but her eyes remained sympathetic. She pointed to the paper. I turned it over, and sure enough, there was more . . .

What joy awaits the generation that heeds the call and acts on God’s promise, looking to the welfare of the children! But should his mandate be ignored, dismissed, or postponed, Molek will reestablish his throne, and he and his satanic forces will reign with heightened power, ravaging Masonville with unthinkable darkness and sorrow.

Then came the conclusion, even more intimidating.

Know this: what happens in Masonville will affect the spiritual condition of the rest of the nation and the world.

That seemed impossible, but who was I to discount it? I collapsed back onto the sofa. It felt like the fate of the universe had been handed to me. Like God had used Arthur to send me a handwritten letter with my name on it.

I swallowed hard. Hadn’t the old man in the woods basically given the same warning? And wasn’t that even more proof that the old man truly was Arthur, by the way?

I scanned the paper again, looking for anything I’d somehow missed, wondering how Ray and I could ever pull this off.

“I’m here to help,” Betty said. “You’re not alone. God will show you and Ray Anne what to do and say.”

It was nearly two o’clock in the morning now, and Betty was yawning, exhausted after her rushed road trip. She left the room and returned with a stack of perfectly folded sheets and a blanket, and I helped her spread them on the sofa. “First things first,” she said. “We’ve got to deal with whatever wickedness you’ve allowed in your apartment. We’ll take care of it in the morning.”

She said it so casually, like we were going to do some touch-up painting.

“I don’t know what it was that spied down at me from my bedroom tonight.”

She stuffed a pillow inside a case. “Doesn’t matter. It’s got to go.”

“But what if it’s my father?”

Her glare and tight lips said it all. He had to go —from my apartment and from my life, completely. It seemed cruel to me, but Betty was insistent. And she assured me she knew how to drive him away.

I was willing to do whatever it took to fulfill the mission that Arthur —really, God —had entrusted to me, but I hated the thought of banishing my father. Even when I tried, I couldn’t see him as the threat Betty and everyone else said he was.

As Betty headed toward the hallway to her bedroom, a thought came to me that couldn’t wait until morning. “I believe Ray Anne and I are meant to do this mission together, but lately, we’ve been drifting apart.”

“The enemy is working to divide your hearts.”

Divided heart. The exact term my father had used to caution me about Ray Anne. With all due respect to Betty, in this situation, the culprit was Ethan, not enemy spiritual forces.

The sofa was comfortable, but I couldn’t quiet my thoughts enough to sleep. Maybe this letter would help Ray and me get close again. Common missions have a way of doing that, right?

That’s how I saw Arthur’s message —like a special assignment destined for Ray and me. A divine prophecy we were called to fulfill.

We’d been begging for marching orders, and finally, it was time to execute.

I eventually relaxed enough to fall asleep. But had I known what was about to go down at my apartment in the morning, I’m sure I would have tossed and turned all night.