Authors: W. G. Griffiths
B
uck wiped the dust from his eyes as the car left the driveway, the detective’s final words still boring a hole into his heart.
Was the detective correct? Buck didn’t really believe his situation
was more than God could handle. Who was Krogan compared to the Almighty God of the universe? But he now wondered if he trusted
God’s will. Would God handle this situation? Was that what he was asking? He had never allowed himself to think in those terms
since the crash. He had always seen Samantha’s Farm as a provision for his granddaughter, not an escape from responsibility.
After all, was not Samantha his responsibility, too? She was family. He had always taught that family was more important than
occupation. But was all that a clever detour he had subconsciously fabricated to keep his eyes off the real question: would
God be there for him?
Buck found a large stone a few feet away and sat on it. He looked out over the picturesque valley, reminiscing. His first
experience with deliverance had actually been as a recipient. He had suffered from social insecurities and a severe depression
that had started when he was a boy. Finally, when as a young adult his emotions had threatened to overwhelm him for good,
a trusted childhood friend convinced him to attend a special church meeting with him. Apparently the guest speaker had some
sort of deliverance anointing, his friend had said. Very reluctantly, Buck had agreed to go.
He would never forget that night. He’d found himself in the last row of the old church, frozen to his seat as the minister
called on people to come up for prayer. There was simply no way, he’d decided, he was going to stand in front of all those
people and be publicly prayed for, with all eyes staring at him. That would be too terrifying. But at the same time, he could
not leave. He remembered wondering if what he was seeing was real or just mind-over-matter or power of suggestion? What else
could explain some of the behavior he was witnessing? And the control of the exorcist—although no one called him that. He
seemed so in command of it all, without all the theatrics Buck would have expected.
After the meeting ended, the church had emptied, except for Buck, his friend, the pastor, and the deliverance guy—Jedidiah
Dobbs. It was a name Buck would soon after become closely associated with. Dobbs walked slowly up the center isle toward Buck.
He’d been old even then, short and thick and dressed in a gray suit with a pocket watch looped from his vest. As he walked
he took off thick, wire-rimmed glasses, cleaned them with a folded white handkerchief, and returned them to a nose that appeared
to have been broken more than once.
Dobbs stopped in front of Buck, and with an approving nod his wrinkled face came alive. “It’s good you stayed,” he said, his
voice more hoarse without the microphone.
Buck felt immediately anxious and wanted to run away, but could not. He didn’t know why, but his heart was racing. “I almost
didn’t,” he said, wondering why the old man was addressing only him.
“The Lord has a plan for your life, my son. Do you want it?”
That’s impossible, Buck said to himself. He says that to everyone.
“In fact, he wants me to tell you he has a call on your life that would begin tonight. Do you want it?”
Buck was scared speechless. His mind was telling him, “Leave! Now!”
“But first,” Dobbs said, “there is something we have to take care of. Or, I should say, get rid of.” The old man settled himself
down in the pew next to Buck, staring deeply into Buck’s eyes. Buck could not look away, no matter how much he wanted to.
“What is your name, you filthy, vile thing?” Dobbs ordered.
Confused and intimidated, Buck felt as though he was looking at the world from somewhere deep behind his eyes—like he was
in the backseat of his mind, or at least not the only one driving anymore.
“In the name of Jesus, tell me who you are.”
Buck winced, the old man’s words stabbing at him—or so it seemed. He was about to tell Dobbs his own name, but when he opened
his mouth he said, “Fear.”
“Don’t get cute with me, lying beast. I want the name the others call you. In the name of our Lord, I command you to tell
me now. What is your name?”
Buck felt a sudden constriction around his neck as if he were being strangled. He felt as though something was climbing up
his throat and he started to gag. But when he turned his head to vomit, only sound came out. “Dahl,” he said, his voice deeper
than normal. His friend moved further away, his eyes doubled in size.
“I don’t know you, Dahl. But it’s time for you to leave,” the old man said sternly.
“He is mine,” Buck heard himself say.
“He is the Lord’s, and in his name I command you to leave. Be gone!”
At that moment the tightening around Buck’s neck loosened. He exhaled as muscles all over his body relaxed.
“It’s gone,” Dobbs said.
“What happened?” Buck said, keenly aware of his surroundings.
“Step one.”
“Step one?”
“Yes. The Lord has delivered you from a pest. You’ve been made clean, and now you need to be made whole. How do you feel,
my son?”
Buck thought for a moment. “Lighter,” he finally said, with a smile that had been missing from his face for longer than he
could remember.
“Good. So, do you want it?”
“What?”
“God’s plan for your life, remember?”
With a newfound sense of well-being and confidence, Buck nodded. Dobbs smiled.
The old man spent the next few hours with Buck, praying for the anointing of God’s Spirit. In the following days and months,
Buck spent much time with his new mentor and was soon ministering deliverance at Jedidiah Dobbs’s side. He had continued doing
so even after Dobb’s death, for many years, until… Krogan…
“Grandpa!”
Buck’s thoughts were suddenly wrenched back to the present. Samantha had been speaking to him. “Hmm?” he said.
“I said I’m going next door to play with Michele and Jackie. Is something wrong with you? I was calling and calling.”
“I’m fine sweetheart,” Buck said with a forced smile. “You run along and have fun.”
Samantha gave Buck a big kiss on the cheek, then ran toward her friends’ house. He watched her until she was out of sight,
then looked back toward the long road back to Hamden. It was empty.
G
avin was out of view of the farm before he eased up on the gas pedal and turned to Amy. “I figure one of three things is true,”
he said.
“One, he’s crazy,” Amy volunteered.
“Yes, but you don’t believe that, do you?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. You were so polite and attentive I was wondering if you thought he was your grandfather.”
“Nonsense. I’m always polite,” Amy said unblinkingly.
“Of course you are, but I still think number one is number one. He sees evil spirits and knows them by name. There are certain
institutions where that gift isn’t very uncommon, you know.”
“Yeah, but he also knew things about Karianne he couldn’t have known, lucky or not.”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation, but for now let’s move on to number two.”
“Which is?”
“That he’s not who he says he is and he knows a lot more than he’s telling us and all this demon stuff is either a clever
cover-up or just the inevitable perception of a burnt-out preacher. Or maybe he does know Krogan, the man in the sketch, but
he’s too scared to admit it. I think maybe Katz should hypnotize the Reverend Buck next.”
Amy rolled her eyes. “Next.”
“What?”
“I said next.”
“There is no next.”
“You said three.”
“Okay. Number three is he’s for real.”
“And you don’t think that’s a possibility?”
“No.”
“And why not?”
“Why not? Look, Amy, you’re great at collecting data, but…” Gavin paused cautiously.
“But what?”
“‘When you eat meat you have to throw out the bones.’ You can’t believe everything you hear.”
Amy gave him a look. “Do me a favor: leave the old sayings to me.”
“What are we supposed to do, go after Krogan with crosses and silver bullets?”
Amy turned her gaze toward the road before them for a moment, then said, “I wish we could have spent more time with him.”
“More? We’ve wasted enough time already. The eight hours of driving time would have been better spent sleeping.”
“I knew I should have come up here alone,” Amy said quietly.
Gavin heard her but didn’t respond. Her words saddened him and made him wish he’d kept his mouth shut. Without further comment
he continued driving for a couple of miles before turning off the main road in search of a private spot by the river where
they could take a nap, which was the only advice Buck had given them that made any sense, at least to Gavin. He glanced at
Amy several times. She sat slumped in her seat staring into the polished wood grain of the dashboard.
After crossing the river by way of an old wooden bridge, the road turned right, parallel to the flow of water. Soon the road
turned from asphalt to gravel to dirt. Gavin pulled the car off to the side of the road under a cluster of pines that bordered
a sandy bank. He rolled to a gentle stop, quieting the crunch of pebbles under his tires.
“You okay?” he said, waving his hand by Amy’s eyes.
Amy blinked as though Katz had just counted to three and snapped his fingers. “No,” she said. “I feel weird.”
“Sick?”
“No! Scared. I’m not sick, I’m afraid,”Amy snapped. “I’m afraid for my sister, I’m afraid for you, and I’m afraid for me.
Why aren’t you afraid?”
“Because I don’t believe Krogan’s an adrenaline-junkie demon.”
“Then what’s your logical explanation?”
“I don’t have one… yet. But if I were to believe what Buck says is true, I’d have to change what I do for a living. Trade
my gun in for a water pistol full of holy water and squirt it in the face of every psycho that comes down the pike. And believe
me, it’s a wide road.”
“Krogan isn’t every psycho,” Amy said, shaking her head. “He’s different and you know it.”
Gavin looked into Amy’s molten-emerald eyes and knew there was no point in trying to convince her. How could he? In their
short relationship he hadn’t once won an argument with her and now was no time to try.
“Hey, I’m too tired to fight,” he said softly, covering her hand with his. “Let’s see if we can catch a few Z’s so we can
make it home in one piece. Okay?”
Her gaze fell as she nodded in agreement, giving Gavin a sense of distance between them he hadn’t known. She climbed out and
walked toward the river, leaving Gavin to scrounge a blanket from the trunk. He caught up with her at a shallow embankment
that had probably been carved during the springtime when the water was high, fast, and cold. They slid down to a small sandbar
peninsula, Gavin giving Amy a hand although she didn’t need the help and didn’t appear to want it. He pushed up a small mound
of sand in a shady spot to use for a pillow, then flapped out the blanket over it. Without saying a word they both lay down.
The lulling sound of the water, the perfect weather, the little puffy white clouds slowly passing by, and the sweet song of
a nearby bird weren’t needed. Right now Gavin could just as easily have fallen asleep standing sandwiched on the subway in
rush hour.
“You’ll feel better when you wake up,” he said awkwardly, feeling the need to say something.
“No I won’t. I just found out there really is a devil, and if there’s a devil, then there’s a God.”
“So what’s wrong with that?” Gavin said, eyes closed, not really wanting an answer right now.
“I don’t really know God. I know I’m not on the devil’s side, but I don’t know if I’m on God’s side, either. I feel like I’m
in the middle. Is there a middle?”
Why couldn’t she have just gone to sleep? At this point anything he said was going to sound abbreviated and uncaring.
“When we wake up we’ll call the Reverend Buck. He’ll know.”
“We’ll probably just get the machine,” Amy said.
“Then we’ll drive back and ask him.”
“Yeah, right. After the way we left?”
“Can I have a little more time to think about this?” Gavin said, begging whatever God Amy was referring to, to please let
him sleep.
A
MY CALLED HIS NAME SWEETLY
as her hand warmly caressed his cheek. Again she said his name, her voice so gentle it seemed far away, yet close. He didn’t
want to open his eyes because he could see her beauty better with them closed. She took his hand in her own, splitting his
fingers with her own, pulling him toward her. Everything was so peaceful—so right…
“Aghhh!” He yelped as cold water hit his face.
“I said get up.”
Gavin opened his eyes to see Amy standing in front of him with two large Styrofoam coffee cups, taken from the trash in his
car. Before he could react, the second cup, filled with cool river water, emptied into his face.
“Okay! Okay! Stop! What’s going on?” he yelled, hoping she didn’t have a third cup ready. His eyelids felt like cement blocks.
He desperately wanted to go back to sleep. The Amy in his dreams might even be waiting for him.
“We have to leave now,” she said. “My sister woke up and she’s freaking out, calling for me.”
“How do you know?”
“My beeper woke me up. I knew it was the hospital’s number the second I saw it. I had to walk halfway down the road before
I could get even a weak signal on my cell phone. They told me she woke up about two hours ago. About the same time we fell
asleep.”
“Does she know?” Gavin asked.
Amy’s instant tears not only answered Gavin’s question, but did more to wake him than the water had. He jumped to his feet.
In the past week, Amy had not talked much about this moment, but Gavin knew she had been praying for it and dreading it at
the same time. With her sister back in the picture, he would lose Amy as a partner; Amber was going to require enormous support.
Gavin wondered if that support would get in the way of retrieving information from the only witness he had yet to question:
Amber Clayborne herself.
“Your partner, Chris, broke it to her,” Amy said between hard sniffs. “I’m sure my parents are there, but it’s my name she’s
calling.”
“Then let’s not keep her waiting,” he said.
Gathering up the blanket, they headed back to the car. A moment later Gavin was downshifting into second as he screeched around
the turn, then flooring it over the bridge. He wondered how long the trip would take at a hundred miles an hour. He glanced
at his watch. It was just after two-thirty. After being awake for the better part of two days, he’d just had a whopping two
hours of sleep.