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  “But it would only be another false one. The Bible is full of misled people who worshiped false gods and graven images.” She wondered where Eleanor was heading with this line of discussion.

  “Floods came,” Eleanor continued. “Droughts came. People died and the crops stopped growing. Wars were won and lost. Ancient people used such signs as proof that some gods were stronger than others. They often absorbed gods into their cultures if they thought they were more powerful ones.”

  “Yes, but El Shaddai is the one true God and Father of us all. What are you getting at?”

  “I’m telling you you haven’t studied enough history. Most religions make gods they like and then keep them that way. Unless they find a way to make them better, like borrowing someone else’s. They don’t like to believe that God is unknowable. Something beyond what we can imagine.”

  “But we don’t have to imagine. God speaks to us through His Word. We have His Word that He sent His only son to dwell among us and give His life so that we could be saved. And I don’t know why you’re cutting me down like this. Do you think it will help somehow?”

  “I’m not cutting you down, but I think somebody needs to talk tough with you. I talked tough with myself yesterday. I confessed something to you that no one else knows, and for which I feel a lot of guilt and shame.”

  “But I told you the Lord will forgive your sin. Take it to Him and all you have to do is lay it at His throne.”

  “Yes, you did tell me that. But I’m more interested in achieving my own forgiveness. It was a treacherous thing I did, but I did it of my own free will. I want you to come to your senses now.”

  “You think I’m in a cult, don’t you?” Anne-Marie accused.

  “I think you’re very close to it,” replied the older sister. “But I’m not sure exactly how to define what a cult is. You received good counsel at the Planned Parenthood clinic, and an invitation to follow up with another appointment. You turned your back on it.”

  “I’m sure that Nurse Howard meant well, but she has limitations because she doesn’t dwell in the Spirit. Besides, I found out that they perform abortions after they lure you into a false sense of security.”

  Eleanor’s tone of voice revealed her diminishing patience. “Do you remember anything in our conversation with that nurse that seemed misleading or tricky?”

  “No, but that’s what makes it so good and clever.”

  “Come on, let’s start back down. I can’t leave any later than noon.”

  They made their way along the path, stopping to lean against a huge boulder along the way, which made time and space for Eleanor’s final agenda. “Brother Jackson is the father of your child, isn’t he?”

  Anne-Marie was caught off guard. “What makes you think so?”

  “I don’t know, I just believe he is. You tell me.”

  “I’m pretty sure he is, yes.” Anne-Marie’s answer was equivocal because she remembered her conversation with Sister Abigail about dreams and desires.

  “Pretty sure?”

  “Yes, that’s what I said. Mostly sure.”

  “Mostly sure. Anne-Marie, I want a straight answer before I leave. When are you going back home?”

  “I can’t say right now. I’m just waiting on the Lord to lead me.”

  “And Brother Jackson? Are you waiting on him as well?”

  “Yes. That too. When he comes back it will help me all the more.”

  They started walking again. Anne-Marie was in the lead while Eleanor conversed from behind: “When did he say he’d be coming back?”

  “In two weeks,” Anne-Marie answered quickly, without turning around. She quickened her pace.

  “And it’s been over two weeks. What does that tell you?”

  “It tells me his crusade in Oklahoma is going better than expected. That’s how it happens when you let the Lord direct all your ways. When it’s time, he’ll be back.”

  By the time they reached the small footbridge where Rachel had done her tightrope act, they paused again to rest. And behold, a pale horse. Anne-Marie remembered how disturbed she’d been that day.

  “I’m going to be just as tough on you as I was on myself yesterday,” Eleanor declared. “The reality is that he’s probably not coming back at all.”

  “Don’t say that. You can’t say that.”

  “There’s not even a reason to believe he’s actually in Oklahoma. He could be any place, even out of the country. He has to know that he might be a fugitive from the law, so he ought to be smart enough to squirrel himself away where he can’t be found.”

  “You don’t know him!” Anne-Marie exclaimed. “You’ve never even met him!”

  “The next thing you’ll be telling me is that I don’t have enough faith. Well let me tell you something: I have plenty of faith in my own brain and my own resources, which is the kind of faith I think you need to develop.”

  “I’m telling you Brother Jackson is a man of the Spirit. Why can’t you listen to me? The Lord leads him in all things.”

  “You said that before. I’m telling you I don’t think he’s coming back at all because he can’t be that stupid.”

  “I don’t know why you’re even talking to me like this! I don’t even know why I told you where I was.”

  “I would never do anything to hurt you, at least not on purpose. You know that. I wouldn’t have come all the way here at the expense and inconvenience if I didn’t love you and want to help you.”

  Anne-Marie knew that was true. Even though she was bewildered and frightened, she did feel certain of her sister’s love and affection. But at this moment it seemed irrelevant.

  The sisters were on the move again, heading back in the direction of the complex. “I’ve got one other thing I have to say,” said Eleanor quietly.

  “What?” asked Anne-Marie, knowing she didn’t want to hear it.

  “I’m giving this one week. One more week and then I’m calling Mom and Dad to tell them where you are.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would and I will. It tears me up inside to stall them when I have real information. Today is the twenty-sixth. I won’t await any longer than July third. When I call them, I expect they’ll be here to get you immediately.”

  “I can’t believe you would be that mean.”

  “You mean you can’t believe I would be so determined. Well, believe it. I won’t be able to take it any longer.”

  Anne-Marie started to cry. “Just go back to Boston,” she sobbed. “Go back home and cheat on some more projects.”

  June 27

  Eleanor went back to Boston. What she left behind, though, was an urgency which tormented Anne-Marie. The one thing she couldn’t stand was the thought of her parents showing up here and taking her home—the humiliation would be too great. She wrote feverishly in her notebook: Eleanor is wrong in saying Brother Jackson won’t return. He will return, but in his own time, as the Lord leads him.

  My time is short though. Eleanor said one week, and today is the twenty-seventh.

  The most devastating thing, the one thing I could never bear, would be if my parents came to Camp Shaddai to take me away.

  And then she added, Somehow I have to forgive Eleanor. The Lord would want me to.

  There was a small library in a room just off the cafeteria. It had books in two bookcases, and all members of the group were free to study there for meditation and reflection. In addition to the many volumes of God’s Holy Word, there were dozens of inspirational Christian books to help guide in Spirit-filled living.

  There were also a few books on demonology, to help the reader understand the nature of Satan’s treacheries. Early in the morning, Anne-Marie looked up the incubus in one of the books, and discovered him to be what Rachel had described: a demon who could change form as he pleased and seduce young women in their sleep. He could even impregnate them during the visit.

  An incubus, according to the literature she browsed, could even take female form and seduce a slee
ping male. The female form was called a succubus, though. But that was unusual. The most common condition was for an incubus to appear in the form of a sublime male, to provide a woman with a much better lover than any mere mortal could ever be.

  Anne-Marie thought of Brother Jackson immediately. She opened and closed the book absentmindedly, repeating to herself the words a sublime male … a far better lover than any mere mortal could ever be.

  She started her fast right after breakfast, which consisted only of some orange juice and some weak tea. She had actually learned to like the beverage in small doses, but only if it wasn’t brewed strong and had sugar.

  At the conclusion of morning Bible study, Anne-Marie asked the group to join her in a prayer of forgiveness. She asked God to forgive her for the way she’d spoken to Eleanor when they parted. She beseeched Him to understand it was just her spur-of-the-moment anger, that she knew deep in her heart Eleanor was only trying to help, to the best of her ability.

  “She can only follow what light she’s given,” said Sister Abigail. “You are right to seek forgiveness.”

  It prompted Anne-Marie to pray that Eleanor would discover the inner light of Spirit-filled living so she could understand those things which seemed so far-fetched to her. While Anne-Marie offered up this prayer with sincere fervor, Crystal squeezed her hand tightly on one side, and Jessica on the other.

  It brought a certain relief but only briefly. While the others began leaving for chores, Anne-Marie kept her seat. “Are you coming, Ruth Anne?” Sister Abigail asked her.

  “I’d like to stay and pray for a while, if it’s okay. I’ll catch up my chores later?”

  “Of course. I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t eat much breakfast. You’re not losing your appetite again, are you?”

  “No, my appetite’s just fine. I promised the Lord I’d fast, though.”

  “For how long?”

  “I think maybe two or three days. My time is growing short.”

  “If you feel that way I’m sorry, but what about the Lord’s time? How short is His time growing?” Abigail asked the question with a patient smile of affection.

  “I don’t know. That’s one of the things I have to pray about.”

  “Fasting can be beneficial, but do be careful. If you’re fasting for two, please be twice as careful.” Her smile seemed to grow bigger.

  “Have you ever fasted, Sister Abigail?”

  “A time or two, I have. That’s why I say it can be beneficial. It can purify our systems, which can make us more open to the Lord’s guidance.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  “Just remember to be careful. Let me know how it’s going.”

  “Okay, Sister. God bless you.”

  “And God bless you, Ruth Anne.”

  As soon as Sister left, Anne-Marie took out her notebook again. She started by writing Eleanor a letter, apologizing for the nasty things she’d said and asking forgiveness. It wasn’t a long letter, and it wasn’t hard to write, particularly since she’d confessed her sin and asked forgiveness.

  The harder things to write were the notes she’d started making to herself on another page. They were pressing, soul-searching reflections prompted by Eleanor’s visit.

  Abortion is murder. The Lord could never forgive it, so I can’t consider it.

  I need to speak to Brother Jackson about all of this. A baby has a father, not just a mother. His thoughts will be very important.

  I feel certain that Brother Jackson is the father. I’m pretty convinced about that part.

  Anne-Marie ran out of thoughts so she stopped writing. She took out a tissue to blow her nose and while doing so, felt the lump in her pocket. It was the Oneppo Medal. She took it out to look at it. The wind blew the trees around, so she had frequent glimpses of the silver lake. She held the medal up against the light and turned it around slowly.

  In this light, with the lake providing the background, everything but the obelisk seemed to vanish. It seemed to exist in the air, suspended magically. It was stone and hard. When Eleanor had argued with her about religion, she’d mentioned that in very ancient times, stones were gods. They were worshiped. Like evergreen trees, they were adored because they seemed immortal—unchanging.

  Then this Oneppo Medal was not only a symbol of Eleanor’s dishonesty—it was also like a pagan idol, the kind of stone altar worshiped by idolaters condemned in the Bible.

  But she couldn’t just throw it away. She put it down. As soon as she began writing again, her thoughts turned to disturbing, darker elements:

  Rachel dreams the incubus, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a vision. Even she says so herself.

  It doesn’t mean the incubus is a vision having anything to do with me. Just because I’m sleeping in the closest bunk, she could share it with anybody.

  Rachel’s dreams of death on the footbridge are in the same category. They aren’t necessarily visions, and they aren’t necessarily intended for me.

  Then she thought to add, with a knot forming in her stomach, If you were seduced by the incubus, you would be impregnated by the demon seed. You would be carrying the devil’s own offspring, maybe even the Antichrist.

  She had to pause for some deep breathing. She chewed at the eraser before boldly writing her final observation, and this time all in caps:

  MY BABY IS BROTHER JACKSON’S, NOT THE INCUBUS’S. I JUST KNOW IT, KNOW IT, KNOW IT!

  It was just before lunch when she saw his car. There was the old rattletrap Chrysler, parked beside three other, newer cars.

  Anne-Marie stopped in her tracks long enough to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. No! It was his car!

  Brother Jackson was back!

  With a mixture of joy and apprehension, Anne-Marie ran in search of him. She didn’t find him in the cafeteria, or the administration building, or in any of the small shelters they used for tabernacle meetings and Bible study.

  After she checked the dorm, she made her way rapidly to Sister Abigail’s quarters. Brother Jackson wasn’t there, either, but Abigail was.

  “He’s back!” Anne-Marie declared breathlessly.

  She was smiling. “Are you surprised, Ruth Anne?”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Good. When we wait upon the Lord, He will fulfill His promises.”

  “Do you know where he is? Do you know where I can find him?”

  “I’m not sure where he is at this moment. But you’ll see him soon. He plans to stay for a few days.”

  Anne-Marie thought, I was right to put my trust in the Lord. Eleanor was wrong. She might have meant well, the words she said may have been sincere. But she was wrong as she could be.

  “I’m going to keep looking for a while,” said Anne-Marie. By this time, she had recovered most of her breath.

  “Fine, but don’t be late for lunch.”

  “I’m fasting. Don’t you remember?”

  “No,” said Sister Abigail, “I guess I had forgotten that. But you can drink fruit juice and be at the table with us for fellowship.”

  “I had fruit juice for breakfast.”

  “You can drink water, then. But please join us.”

  “For sure.”

  When she left, Anne-Marie wondered where she might look next. She might follow the path into the woods and look down along the small footbridge. But then she thought of the shed where they kept the maintenance equipment, and the adjacent shop. She remembered Brother Jackson’s fondness for tractors and other mechanical things.

  And that was where she found him. He looked about the same, except his hair was a little longer. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt with words which read: LIFE IS SHORT PRAY HARD.

  It was a disappointment that she found him talking to Jessica, besides two of the maintenance men. It was like a social gathering, so being alone with him wouldn’t work. He greeted her warmly, with a firm hug, and smiled that beatific smile.

  “How are you
?” he asked her.

  “I’m fine,” she lied. The timing wasn’t right for talking about the inner fears and indecisions which gripped her.

  He held her at arm’s length so he could look her over. He had a firm hold on both of her shoulders. “I understand you are now Ruth Anne,” he remarked.

  “Yes I am.”

  “A new woman, reborn in the company of the Lord’s fellowship. I hope and pray that Camp Shaddai has been helping to light your way.”

  “I wait upon the Lord and put my trust in Him,” said Anne-Marie.

  “Praise Him.”

  Then Jessica joined them. She said, “Brother Jackson and I go way back. I was at two of his crusades in southern Wisconsin. Once last year and another time the year before.”

  “It’s always a joy when we can fellowship together again,” said Brother, giving Jessica a squeeze on the shoulder. “I brought Sister Ruth Anne here from up in Indiana,” he told Jessica. “She needed a place for undisturbed peace and reflection.”

  “I know.” Jessica smiled at Anne-Marie. “Ruth Anne is sincere in all her efforts. We all like her.”

  Anne-Marie appreciated the compliment, but she wanted Brother Jackson all to herself at this moment. She felt ashamed at her own petty jealousy A man of God would of course make time for every member of the flock.

  “Tell us about the crusade in Oklahoma,” said Jessica. “How did it go?”

  “Better than expected, praise God,” was Brother Jackson’s reply. “Hundreds of souls were brought to Christ, many of them for the very first time. The crowds were so large we had to extend the mission by a couple of days.”

  “Praise Him, then,” said Jessica.

  “Praise Him,” added Anne-Marie.

  Then Brother Jackson turned to talk to the mechanics again, and unworthy as Anne-Marie’s disappointment might have been, she seemed helpless against it. He didn’t even notice my hair. He didn’t even say anything about my hair.

  That evening, Sister Abigail made an announcement in the shelter. She told the group that Brother Jackson had agreed to lead them in fellowship. He delivered a spirited message on the Rapture and its true meaning.