“It’s alright to feel as you do. Supernatural experiences often help expand our too-limited views of God.” Becka tensed. What was she saying? That her doubts were right? That the Bible couldn’t be trusted? That God wasn’t who he said he was? No! This was wrong! And yet …
“Please,” the woman continued, “I know it is unnerving, but search the Christ within you, and see if he would not have you reach out to this little girl in his love.” Becka continued to look into the woman’s eyes.
“Join with me. We are not enemies. We are coworkers. We are on the same side. The side of love.”
The woman was making more and more sense. “But what …” Becka cleared her throat, trying to find her voice. “But what about Juanita’s powers? Aren’t you afraid of them?” The Ascension Lady laughed gently. “Of course I am. I am terrified. That is why I need you at my side. We both saw how you were able to help me last night. She may attack again, only more violently.”
“And you’ll go, even if I don’t?”
“I must. She needs me. She needs us.”
“Becka?” A voice spoke from the door.
Becka turned to see Ryan. He looked puzzled and concerned.
“Ryan,” she exclaimed, “how’d you know I was here?”
“I called your brother. He read your note.” Ryan continued checking out the situation and the woman. “Listen, we need to talk. There’s something at the library you need to see.” For a moment Becka was torn. For a moment she actually didn’t want to leave the Ascension Lady.
“Now,” he said firmly.
“Oh … yeah, sure.” She started toward the door.
“Rebecca?”
Becka turned.
“I will be starting at eight. Your friends are also invited.” Becka looked at her and nodded.
**********
3:34 p.m.
“I still don’t get why you were there,” Ryan said as he slipped a microfilm into the machine and snapped on the switch. The light came on and the fan whirred quietly. “You’re the one who said she was evil.”
“I … I might have been wrong,” Becka answered. “She’s only trying to help. When you think about it, aren’t we really both fighting on the same side? For the little girl?” Ryan looked up at her from the machine. His expression made it clear that he had his doubts. Come to think of it, so did she.
Without a word he directed his attention back to the screen, and then started to adjust the microfilm as he said, “The more I’ve been thinking about what you said about the Bible, the more this whole thing’s been bugging me.”
Becka looked on, waiting.
“I mean, you’re right. Either the Bible’s true or it isn’t. So I got here early this morning and started going through the newspa-pers again.” At last he had the microfilm lined up. “Take a look at this.”
Becka leaned over and read the headline: “Hawthorne Hill: Site of Holy Rituals.”
She glanced to Ryan, who nodded for her to continue reading. It was a 1988 interview with an older Native American from the area. He spoke of having hunted and fished in various loca-tions that were now parts of the city. A few paragraphs later he spoke of Hawthorne Hill, the location of the mansion:
“It had always been a sacred place. Our grandfathers, our great-grandfathers, and their fathers before them practiced their magic on that hill. It was a place of strong power.
Spirits frequently appeared. Even as children we knew this was no place to play.”
Becka came to a stop. She did not have to read further.
Ryan spoke quietly. “There were things happening on that hill long before Juanita was ever murdered there. Probably centuries before.”
Becka nodded.
Ryan continued, “So what we saw in that house …” Becka finished the phrase for him: “… may not have been the girl’s ghost, but one of those evil spirits.” Ryan looked at her a long moment and then slowly nodded.
Chapter 7
5:45 p.m.
Becka looked out the car window at the passing houses. “I just wish there was somebody I could run all this stuff past. With Mom gone and Scotty playing Rambo, there’s nobody.”
“What about Z?” Ryan asked as he eased the Mustang around another corner.
Becka glanced at her watch. “Z usually doesn’t come online till nine. The séance will already be going.” Ryan gave a heavy sigh. “I still don’t think you should go.” Becka glanced at him. Her heart fluttered, moved by his constant concern for her. Who else would spend all Friday morning in the library trying to prove her right and himself wrong … just to make sure she would be safe? Ryan was a treasure. One she hoped never to lose.
She looked back out the window. “If I don’t go, will that stop Julie and the others from showing up?”
“No way, they’re making it a major event.”
“And it sure won’t stop the Ascension Lady. If I don’t show, who knows what will happen to her.”
“But she’s your enemy.”
Becka looked back to him. “She’s trying to do right; she’s just all mixed up. Besides, even if she was my enemy — ”
“I know, I know,” Ryan interrupted. “ ‘Love your enemies.’ ” He threw her a mischievous grin. “I’ve been doing my reading.” Becka laughed. “But do you believe it?” Her comment carried a double meaning. She wasn’t just asking if he believed in a Bible verse. For several weeks he’d been flirting with making a commitment to Christ, and for several weeks he’d been reading the Bible, trying to decide.
He looked over to her and quietly answered. “I’m almost there, Beck. Just give me a little more time.” Becka nodded. She wouldn’t rush him. Even if she could stand for a little more Chris tian company … especially tonight.
“I’ve got it!” Ryan suddenly said. “Susan, from the church.
The one who helped rescue you from those satanist guys.” Relief flooded Becka. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of it?
Mom even asked her to check in on us.”
Without a word Ryan threw the car into a U-turn and they were off.
**********
7:07 p.m.
“But if this thing is a demon, shouldn’t Beck and her brother have been able to, you know, make it obey them? I mean, isn’t that what the Bible says?” Ryan was pacing back and forth in Susan’s tiny office. He seemed more agitated than Becka.
Susan leaned forward on her desk, listening. As usual she was working late. She was a college student and a newlywed. She and her husband, Todd, worked part-time as youth pastors for the Community Chris tian Church.
She had listened with interest to Becka and Ryan’s story.
When Becka expressed her confusion over the ghost seeming to be real, Susan had nodded.
“I can see why you’ve started to believe in this thing. But don’t forget that demons have knowledge of all that has happened. It wouldn’t be too hard for them to masquerade as the little girl who was killed there.”
“And they could speak Spanish?” Ryan had asked.
“They could speak whatever they wanted,” Susan had agreed.
“If Spanish is called for, that’s what they will use.” Now Susan nodded again at Ryan’s insight. “Yes,” she agreed,
“in theory, as believers, Becka and Scott should have authority over the demons.”
“So what gives?” Ryan’s voice had an edge of impatience.
“Becka has a special guest appearance in her bedroom, Scotty’s attacked by flies, and — ”
“Wait a minute … did you say flies?”
“Yeah, thousands of them. Why?”
“One of his names … one of the names God gave Satan was Beelzebub.”
“Be-elle-za-what?” Ryan asked.
“Beelzebub. It’s like one of God’s jokes on him. It means
‘Lord of Flies.’ ”
Becka felt the old familiar chill run across her shoulders. It took a moment to find her voice. “So what you’re saying is we might be dealing with more than just a demon?” Ryan stopped pacing and looked at the women. “You’re not talking about — I mean, are you saying it might be
Satan?”
Susan shrugged. “Hard telling. Lots of times demons will claim that very thing to try and freak you out. But from what you’ve described, with the history of occult activities on that hill, whatever they are doing is definitely big-time.”
“They?” Becka repeated. “You said
they.”
“You’re probably dealing with a cluster of them, yes.”
“But why do they always appear as Juanita’s ghost?”
“Ghosts, angels of light, spirit guides — demons come in all sorts of disguises.”
“Still, the Bible says we have authority over them, and my brother tried and got trounced. Why?”
“A good question.” Susan reached over to her shelf and pulled out a Bible. She began leafing through the pages. “Chris tians shouldn’t go out looking for fights with the devil. After all, his job is to kill and destroy. But when they meet him, they will win if they are using God’s power.”
She found her place. “Ah, here we go, Ephesians 6:12: ‘For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rul-ers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.’ ” Becka nodded. “I know. Believe me, Scotty and I are very familiar with those verses.”
Susan continued. “There’s more: ‘Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.’”
Again Becka nodded. “But Scotty wasn’t exactly standing up.
When Juanita — or whatever it was — got through with him, he was lying flat on his back, thinking he was covered with flies.” Susan nodded, still looking at the pages. “Hmmm, there are some conditions. The armor of God is not just some flowery phrase. There are very specific pieces of protection that we need to put on before going into battle.”
“Like what?” Ryan asked.
Susan found her place and continued reading: “’Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.’”
“Man! That’s a lot,” Ryan said.
“And prayer,” Susan continued, reading: “ ‘Pray in the Spirit on all occasions.’”
“Okay,” Becka said, “let’s go down the list just to make sure.
We’ve got our sword.” She pointed to Susan’s Bible. “I’m learning to believe in the Bible, more so than ever. What’s the ‘helmet of salvation’?”
“The knowledge of your salvation through Christ. When you know you’re secure in him, that stops Satan from playing with your head, from fooling you into thinking you’re not saved so you don’t think you have power.”
“Got that,” Becka said. “I know I’m saved.”
“And if we aren’t?” Ryan asked, clearing his throat and shift-ing a little uncomfortably.
Susan looked at him. “It’s your choice, Ryan, but I wouldn’t wait too long with all that’s coming down.” Ryan nodded. “I hear you.”
“What else is in that armor?” Becka asked.
“The shield of faith.”
“Faith, I’ve got that.”
“Shoes to spread the gospel.” Susan looked up. “You’re ready to tell people about Jesus, aren’t you?”
“I can vouch for her on that,” Ryan chuckled. Becka grinned back at him.
“That just leaves two things. The belt of truth — you’re not lying or deceiving anybody?”
Becka shook her head.
“And finally the breastplate of God’s approval.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you’re being as righ teous as you can … and if you mess up, you’re asking Jesus to forgive you.” Ryan chuckled again. “Beck and her brother are the squeakiest-clean kids I know.”
“You don’t have to be perfect,” Susan corrected. “You just have to be certain you’re trying to be, and that you ask Jesus to forgive you.”
Becka started to nod, then caught herself.
Susan was the first to notice. “What’s up, Becka?”
“It’s just … I mean, playing a practical joke on somebody, that’s not like sinning, is it?”
Susan smiled. “I think God has a sense of humor. Just as long as nobody’s getting hurt or it isn’t done out of anger.”
“Uh-oh.”
Both heads turned to Becka. She took a breath. “Scotty, he’s been playing this elaborate joke on the Ascension Lady, getting her to shave off her hair and stuff.”
Ryan started to laugh. “That was Scotty’s doing?” Becka nodded, then turned to Susan. “Is that a problem?”
“It’s pretty funny,” Susan agreed, nodding, “but it’s pretty mean too.”
“He was looking for a way to get even, to get some kind of revenge for all the stuff she’s done to us.” A frown crossed Susan’s forehead. “Revenge?”
“Yeah.”
“So he hasn’t forgiven her.”
“No way.”
“Is that a problem?” Ryan asked.
“Unforgiveness? Yeah, Ryan, that’s a big problem. The Bible says we have to forgive, that seeking revenge is wrong.” Susan turned back to Becka. “I don’t suppose he’s asked God to forgive him?” Becka shook her head. “I doubt it. I think he’s having too much fun.”
Susan took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “I think we’ve found it — the missing piece in his armor.” She stopped, then quickly looked back to Becka. “He’s not going to that séance, is he?”
“He knows everyone else is going to be there … and he’ll definitely want to see his handiwork on the Ascension Lady.”
Susan tried to keep her voice calm and even but didn’t quite succeed. “He could get hurt, Becka. If he goes in there unprotected, he could get hurt very badly.”
Becka looked at her watch. “It starts in less than an hour. Can I use your phone?”
Susan nodded and handed it to her. Becka dialed and waited.
A moment later she sighed in frustration as Scott’s recorded message came on: “Hi, I’m not. You are. I will be. So leave a message so when I am, I can … I think.”
After the beep she spoke quickly into the phone. “Scotty, if you’re there, pick up. Scotty. Scotty!” No answer. “Listen,” she said, glancing at her watch again. “It’s 7:20. Don’t go anywhere.
Do you hear me? Wait till Ryan and I get there. We’re on our way. We’ve got to talk. Don’t go.” She hung up.
Susan was on her feet, opening her door for them. “Do you think he’s left already?”