The Other Side of Darkness (34 page)

“No problem.” She waves her hand. “Tom can deliver a dog to you.”

“But how will we decide which one?” I ask.

“Well, if you will trust me—and you know I’m a good Christian woman like you—I’d be happy to make my best recommendation for you and your girls. I know these dogs better than anyone, and I’ll be sure to pick out one that I think suits you.”

“Thank you. I’d really appreciate it.”

“But I was thinking,” she says, “these dogs are social animals, you know, and they can get lonely, especially if you keep them outdoors most of the time. If I were you, I would consider getting a pair.”

“One for me and one for Sarah,” says Mary.

“That’s right,” agrees Barb. “A dog for each girl.”

“Oh, I don’t know …” I glance at Buddy, trying to imagine Buddy times two.

“I’ll tell you what,” says Barb. “I really like you and your girls, and I’d like to make you a special offer. You buy one dog, and the second will be half price.”

“Half price, Mom!” says Mary eagerly.

Well, I’m already worried that the price of just one dog might be pushing our already-tight budget, but a second one is probably too much to even consider.

“Please, Mommy,” says Sarah. “Daddy wanted a dog. Why not two?”

“We used to have two pets,” Sarah tells Barb. “Our dog, Sadie, who got killed on Halloween. And our cat, Spooky, just disappeared. We think she was cat-napped.”

Barb laughs. “Sounds to me like you could use a couple of good dogs at your house. And I know just the pair—they’re littermates—Bonnie and Clyde.” She grins. “But that’s because when they were pups and got into the kitchen, they stole some hamburger I was thawing. You could change their names if you like.”

“Please, Mom,” begs Mary. “Sarah and I will take care of them.”

“And Bonnie and Clyde can keep us safe,” Sarah reminds me.

“Oh why not?” I finally give in.

So I write a check that will empty what’s left in our checking account, knowing full well that Rick won’t get paid until the end of the week. But at least we’ll be safe. That’s worth more than money.

I
t’s past seven o’clock when an old pickup pulls into our driveway. The girls run to the front window, shrieking with delight when they see a pair of dogs in the back. I tell the girls to wait on the porch, then open the front door in time to hear the man swearing at the dogs and telling them to shut up. Then he looks toward the house. “You the lady who bought the dogs?”

I nod. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s just great.” His tone is sarcastic. “I get home from work, and I’m dead tired, and the wife tells me I gotta deliver her dumb dogs.” He hands me an envelope. “Here’s their puppy registration forms. You’ll have to send them in yourself.” He goes to the truck, and I tentatively follow him to where two dogs are still barking like maniacs in the back of it.

“Shut up!” The tailgate comes down with a loud bang that startles the dogs, and they look at us expectantly. Then he unties one dog and hands me one end of the nylon rope; the other end is tied to a chain choke collar around the dog’s neck. “This one’s Bonnie.” He unties the other dog, then commands both of them out of the truck. “And this here is Clyde.” Once on the ground the dogs immediately start sniffing me, and while I don’t feel exactly threatened, I am a little scared. “They just wanna get to know you,” he says as he hands me Clyde’s rope.

“Hello, Bonnie and Clyde,” I calmly say, letting them sniff the top of my hand. “You’re going to be our dogs now. I hope you’ll be happy here.”

“I gotta go,” he says as he gets into his truck. “Good luck with the dogs. Make ’em mind you.” Then he takes off, and I’m left standing with two dogs that I’m sure outweigh me and could easily overpower me if they chose to.

“Can we come out now?” Mary yells.

Naturally, this makes the dogs start barking all over again.

“Quiet!” I command the dogs, and I’m pleasantly surprised that they obey. Still, I’m not sure what to do. It makes sense to introduce the dogs to the girls, but at the same time, I’m a little frightened. “No,” I yell back to Mary. “You girls go back inside the house. I’m going to take the dogs into the backyard first. Then we’ll figure it out.”

So I lead the dogs around to the side gate and let them loose in the backyard. First they stand beside me, as if waiting for a command. “Go ahead and look around.” I latch the gate behind me. “See if you like your new home.” Then I go inside, where Sarah and Mary are begging to go out and play with the dogs.

I turn the exterior light on and see that both dogs are on the deck now, looking into the house and at us with curious expressions. But I’m not ready to let them inside. “Go get your coats on,” I tell the girls. “And when you come outside, make sure that you remain very calm. We have to let Bonnie and Clyde get used to us slowly. Okay?”

After an hour of getting acquainted, it seems that Bonnie and Clyde actually like us. Sarah and Mary have already rounded up some old doggy toys that once belonged to Sadie. And we found Sadie’s old food and water dishes, as well as some leftover dog food, and Bonnie and Clyde seem to be making themselves right at home.

“Okay, girls. Time for you two to get ready for bed.”

“Where are Bonnie and Clyde going to sleep?” asks Sarah.

“I think they’ll be fine out here.”

“But it’s cold outside,” says Mary.

“Can’t they come in?” begs Sarah.

“They can protect us better if they’re inside,” Mary points out.

“Sadie used to sleep in the laundry room,” Sarah reminds me.

So Bonnie and Clyde find themselves warm and snug in the laundry room, sleeping on Sadie’s old bed plus a couple of beach towels. And tonight when the girls and I finally return to our campy arrangements in the living room, everyone feels much safer. I read for a while, but before long both girls are fast asleep. And as I do my regular bouts of spiritual warfare, I’m about to join them.

It seems I’ve barely drifted off when we’re all awakened by the sound of loud, frantic barking. It takes me a moment to remember the dogs, but then my heart is pounding with fear. There’s an intruder in the house. Or perhaps it’s demonic. Then I hear a voice calling my name; it’s only Rick.

I hurry into the kitchen and am just about to tell him what’s going on when he stupidly opens the laundry-room door. Suddenly both dogs lunge at him, and I yell at the dogs, telling them, “Stop it! Sit!” Fortunately, and to my amazement, they obey. But it might be because I’m standing between them and my husband. They seem to understand I’m their new owner. Rick is still in one piece, although I can tell he’s truly frightened. It’s almost amusing to see my big, strong husband so completely shaken up over a couple of dogs, but I keep these thoughts to myself.

“What the heck is going on here?” he demands after I finally get the dogs back into the laundry room and close the door behind them.

I explain about the dogs and how we decided to get two, but I can tell by his tightly pressed lips and glaring eyes that he’s extremely agitated. I almost expect to see two blasts of steam shooting from his nostrils.

“You’re the one who said to get a dog,” I calmly remind him.

“A dog! As in
one
dog. And I had a dog like Sadie in mind. Not those two
killers
in there.”

“Bonnie and Clyde are
not
killers.”

“Yeah, right. And just for the record, the names suit the gangster dogs.”

“We can change their names,” I say. “And just for the record, they are actually very nice dogs, and they get along well with the girls.”

“You
have
to take them back, Ruth!”

“I most certainly do not.”

“I refuse to come home to those beasts trying to eat me alive every night.”

“They’ll get used to you.”

“They won’t need to, because either they go or I do!”

“Rick … we need these dogs for protection.”

“I don’t care. They have to go back. We are not going to keep a pair of vicious attack dogs in the house!”

“Daddy,” says Sarah as she and Mary walk into the kitchen, “Bonnie and Clyde are good dogs. They just don’t know you yet.”

“Yeah.” Mary steps up and points her finger at her father. “They probably thought you were a prowler or something, coming in here in the middle of the night like that. Can’t you see they were just doing their job?”

I can see him softening some, looking at the hopeful little faces of his daughters, sweet and innocent in their nighties.

“The dogs are protecting us,” adds Sarah.

“See?” I fold my arms across my chest.

“Aren’t they Rottweilers?” he asks meekly. “They must’ve cost a fortune …”

“Yes, they’re registered Rottweilers, but we got the second dog for half price.”

“And they already know how to fetch,” says Mary.

“And we’re going to take them for walks,” adds Sarah.

He rolls his eyes. “Guess I’m outnumbered on this.”

“That’s right,” says Mary.

“I’m sorry they scared you,” I tell him. “But maybe it gives you an idea of how we feel sometimes. We get scared too, Rick, especially when you’re not around. These dogs make us feel safer. Can’t you understand that?”

He shrugs. “Guess I’ll have to get used to them.”

“That’s right, Daddy,” says Sarah. “And they’ll have to get used to you too.”

Soon the girls are back to sleep, and Rick has gone to our room. I do feel a little safer with the dogs in the house, but I feel extremely uneasy too. There’s a nudging in my spirit that keeps telling me something is wrong. I’m not sure if it’s demonic intrusion or what exactly. But I have the sneaking suspicion that it’s my husband. Oh sure, he gave in on the dogs tonight, but it was only because of the girls’ pleading. If I had fought that battle alone, I would’ve lost. And what does this mean when I am constantly pitted against my own husband? How can a family that’s so spiritually split possibly survive and stay intact?

So I realize with vivid clarity that I must do serious battle for Rick’s heart and soul and spirit. Because until he is living a life that’s truly surrendered to the Lord, we are all in grave danger. And that’s
when it occurs to me that the Lord has ordained me to be Rick’s salvation. I’ve heard Sister Bronte explain how we can take that position, and suddenly it’s very clear. I am Rick’s only link back to the Lord right now. That’s what motivates me to get up from the mattress on the floor and quietly creep into the master bedroom, where he’s sleeping.

As he softly snores, I kneel by the bed and begin to do warfare. Whispering the words, I bind Satan in Rick’s life, and I cast out his demons one by one by their actual names, just as we do during deliverance vigils. But I’m surprised at some of the names. I had always considered Rick to be a faithful husband, but some of the demons I cast out are Lust and Adultery, and I am so shocked when I cast out the demon of incest that I can’t pray another word. It’s as if a boulder has been dropped upon my spirit. Is it possible that my own husband has been incestuous toward our daughters?

I choke back tears as I flee from the bedroom. This battle is too difficult for me to fight alone. If what the Spirit has revealed is accurate, Rick is truly evil and vile, and our marriage is not only a sham, it is over! Haunted by this shocking revelation, I am unable to sleep, so I prowl through the house praying and binding and begging the Lord to show me what must be done. What must be done … what must be done?

I
t is only the power of the Lord that keeps me going the next few days. Thankful for the distraction of the two dogs, which the girls insist on keeping in the house in order to feel safe from demonic oppression, and the keyboard, which both girls are now practicing on, I’ve had minimal interaction with my daughters. In the morning I give them their assignments for school, mostly just going through the curriculum that some of the other homeschooling parents have loaned me. Then I spend the rest of the day in deep, travailing prayer and Scripture reading.

On Wednesday night we attend the midweek service, and during deliverance prayer time, the plan is for me to sit “in proxy” for my husband. This was all prearranged through a phone call to Cynthia when I told her what the Spirit had revealed to me about Rick’s specific demons. She even told me it would be helpful if I brought in a piece of unwashed clothing that he had recently worn. So I have his favorite sweatshirt in a grocery bag. I can barely stand to touch it.

I had hoped that Sarah and Mary might be involved in another prayer group. Both girls are getting quite good at binding and casting out demons, and many in the congregation appreciate their fresh approach, but since this was about them as well, Sister Bronte insisted that they participate in our group. So it is with some trepidation that I have agreed. And now there are about ten people, including my
daughters, gathered around the chair I am seated in. And due to Cynthia’s insistence, I am wearing Rick’s old gray sweatshirt. And the smell of him on it is making me feel sick to my stomach.

“Remember, Ruth,” Bronte instructs me in a gentle tone, “when we speak to you, we are actually addressing Rick. Concentrate on him as we pray. You are representing him, and your answers should be coming from him. Do you understand?”

I look into Bronte’s pretty face and then slowly nod. Something about her clear blue eyes makes me trust her. But I try not to see the fear in my daughters’ faces as they stand nearby, intently watching. This is for them as much as it is for Rick and for me. I explained all of this to them earlier today. We even spent some time praying that it would go well and that the power of the Lord would be released. And they seemed to understand; they seemed to know how much we need this deliverance. Still, I can appreciate their fear. I’m afraid as well.

I am stunned at the power of the prayers, at the strong words and the detailed descriptions of the demons being bound and cast out. Naturally, they are the same demons I addressed the other night. But as Bronte and Cynthia reprimand these demons, rebuking them in the name of Christ, I feel sickened and sad. And at one point I feel that I’m about to throw up. But instead everything goes fuzzy, then blank.