EPISODE (CHAPTER) 3
Magus
Jesse woke up with a start when his mom came in to wake him up. He groaned, his head throbbing. He wanted to go back to sleep.
"Can I sleep for just five more minutes?" he asked, yawning.
"No, sweetheart," Mrs. Parker replied, "Time to get up. You're an usher today." He had forgotten about that detail. All he could remember was last night's events and falling asleep while reading his favorite Christian novel To Save A Life by Jim and Rachel Britts. He picked the book up off the floor. He had dropped it in the night when he fell asleep. His dreams that night were a blur, going back and forth between the book and the movie and last night's events. It was all mixed up, crazy. Could it be possible he dreamed all that up? Angels and demons, possessed church leaders? His unofficial "little sister" keeping a hellhound for a pet? He would have enough time to think about that later. Right now, he had to get ready for church.
"Alright, Mom," Jesse said, "I'll be right down."
"You better be."
"By the way, Mom—"
Mrs. Parker turned back to face him.
"Yes?"
"Thanks for the book."
"I see you like it," she said, with a smile.
He nodded in response.
"No problem, Kid."
-oOo-
Meanwhile, on her way to church, Christina Nelson stopped by the cemetery as she always did, to meditate on the brevity and meaning of life. She looked at some of the dates on the tombstones. They varied. Some had died at a ripe, old age like 70 or 80. Some died merely an hour after birth. Some a day or two after. Some died at 13.
She knew someone from her class who died when they were seniors in high school. Suddenly, someone broke her reverie. It was a tap on the shoulder. She turned around to find a tall man in a suit, nicely dressed but dusty, brownish residue on his face and clothes.
Weird, she thought, He smells like he's been…underground?
"Ex…cuse me," he said, slowly, "Where's the way to the—"
And even though Christina was usually a polite young woman, she backed away and sprinted to Oldwood Village Church, leaving her prayer journal and her Bible behind in the cemetery. She was fast, strong, and athletic. She could outrun the foul-smelling man, thanks to her gymnastics training and joining the cheering squad of Victory High. It all paid off.
She was sweaty and panting when she got to church, huffing and puffing as she ascended the steps to the front door, her Bible and journal missing, the cross Jesse gave her missing, her skirt torn. Jesse, as the usher, was at the door to greet her.
"You okay?" Jesse asked his best friend, "You look like you've seen a ghost."
If you only knew…
"No, I'm fine," she said, fibbing, "I thought I was late. So I decided to make a run for it."
"Looks like being a cheerleader for the Victory High Angels paid off," he said, with a chuckle.
"Looks like it," she giggled, relieved that Jesse changed the subject, "Hey, I gotta go sit down inside now. We'll be starting in a few, right?"
"Yeah," Jesse said, "The pews are on the Bible."
"What?" Chris said, trying not to laugh.
"I meant the Bibles are on the pews. Sorry."
Christina chuckled and took a seat. The pews are on the Bible? she repeated to herself. Seriously? She knew just what went on. It confirmed that nagging feeling—the feeling that Jesse Parker had been crushing on her since sophomore year at Victory High. He had never let on, but she somehow knew. Always. She knew it for a fact now.
-oOo-
"But there was a certain man, called Simon, which beforetime in the same city used sorcery, and bewitched the people of Samaria, giving out that he himself was some great one:…" Pastor Langston Parker began, as the congregation stood up to read that morning's passage.
"To whom they all gave heed, from the least to the greatest, saying, This man is the great power of God," the people responded, reading the second verse.
"And to him they had regard, because that of long time he had bewitched them with sorceries."
"But when they believed Philip preaching the things concerning the kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women," Pastor Langston said, joining in as the congregation read the last verse.
"May the Lord give us understand as we study His word. You may now be seated," he said, signaling to the congregation that they could sit down now. Jesse, having finished with his ushering duties, sat down beside Chris. Slowly, his hand crept over onto her thigh. She was a bit shocked but didn't mind. She actually took his hand and squeezed it. She was the hottest girl on campus at Victory High in high school, but she was never one to flirt. In fact, she avoided it if she could. Especially in a church, during a sermon. But what was a squeeze? She decided it wouldn't hurt. Jesse had to keep reminding himself to focus on his dad's sermon and not on the girl of his dreams sitting beside him, holding his hand.
But it wasn't Chris who had him distracted. It was someone else—or rather something else. Denny Gladstone, a fattish old woman in her 60s, entered the church and sat in the front pew where she always sat. Everything seemed normal—but not to those who knew Denny Gladstone. The thing is, Denny Gladstone died the previous year while she was being operated on. Her heart burst, and she died on the operating table, the doctors unable to save her. Seeing her walk in made Jesse uncomfortable. He was palpitating. Peter Stevens (being Jesse's ushering partner that Sunday) was stunned when he opened the door for her that he almost fainted. With his free hand, Jesse loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar button. Teasing him, Christina wrote with her pen on the church bulletin.
Not now, hun. You know I'd like to wait until marriage. Then she breathed a silent prayer, Forgive me, Lord.
Jesse chuckled and got up. "Excuse me," he said, whispering in Chris' ear. He went to the back and texted Peter, telling him to meet him in the church kitchen. He texted the others telling them the same thing—meeting in church kitchen.
-oOo-
"Oh, dang," Edmund Prince teased, "What now, cuh? We in trouble or something?"
Jesse just raised an eyebrow.
"Dang," Edmund said, "Sorry, dawg!"
"You tell him, Pete," Jesses said, his voice shaking. His fingers twitched as he added another teaspoon of sugar to his coffee. He stirred it nervously.
"Denny Gladstone," Peter said.
Just two words made them shut up. Made them gasp.
"What's up with that?" JF said, "I thought she was dead?"
"Don't be so stupid," Esther Vale said, "Of course she is dead! Everyone knows that. Common sense! My goodness."
"Well, duh," JF responded, "I didn't know she died. I wasn't exactly here when she died, was I? I was in Japan when that happened."
Silence.
"Thought so."
"What exactly is going on?" Edmund asked.
"That's what we're about to find out," Jesse said.
-oOo-
"Historians believe that Simon the Sorcerer studied magic," Pastor Langston said, pounding the lectern with his fist, "Sound familiar to anyone here? Pretty much like Hogwarts, eh? I'm sorry to burst your bubble, HP fans, wizards and witches, squibs, muggles, and magical creatures, but Harry Potter is sorcery. And sorcery, God has made clear in His Word, is evil! Call me a 'muggle' or 'muggle-ish' all you want, but there is no shades of grey in the Bible! There is black, and there is white. Woe unto those who call evil good, and good evil!"
Many in the audience were nodding. Phil Boggs was enthusiastic about the sermon that he shouted "Amen!" at almost every point the pastor made. Kayla couldn't look straight into the pastor's eyes.
-oOo-
The five friends were standing out in the front lawn of Oldwood Village Church, looking up into the sky. Suddenly, a bright light flashed from the sky, brighter than the sun. It was blinding, and the five friends had to cover their eyes. In front of them stood a tall being, almost as big as the church building.
"There is a disturbance. The others have been informed of this," Gabriel said, his voice booming. Inside the church building, it sounded like a mighty, rushing wind.
"What is going on?" Peter asked.
"A demon has raised Simon Magus to life to wreak havoc and to lead astray those who are not of the Fold."
"Simon Magus?" Esther asked.
"Weren't you listening to the sermon? The magician who—" JF said.
"I know who Simon Magus is—I was saying it was imposs—"
"That's a word I've learned to never use since yesterday," Peter said.
"Will Michael lead us?" Edmund said.
"Unfortunately, Michael is engaged in another conflict. You will have to deal with the Sorcerer yourselves."
"What about my angel Zeev?" Peter asked, wanting to know if he could join the fray.
"He is in Beulah, recuperating from his wounds."
"So it's down to four then," Esther said, disheartened.
"Fear not," Gabriel assured them, "The Lord of Hosts will be with you."
"Besides," JF interrupted, "I recall battling that thing last night with just the four of us."
"Your angel Raanan is an able leader," Gabriel said, "He is a garrison commander in the City."
Encouraged, they took it upon themselves to stamp out the root cause of all this trouble. The demon who had raised Simon the Magician from the dead.
"Tell the others we will be ready by noon," Jesse said.
"I shall," Gabriel said, then vanished.
"Let's go," Jesse said, "Service is almost finished. The others might get suspicious. And my dad's gonna kill me if he notices I'm not there."
With that, they went back in to finish the service. Next would be Sunday School, then lunch. And while the people are eating, they will be battling spiritual wickedness in the high places.
-oOo-
"Wait! Something doesn't add up here," Esther said, grabbing her cousin's arm on their way to Sunday School.
"Keep talking," Jesse said.
"This can't be the work of Simon Magus."
"And why not?"
"Because!"
"Because…?"
"Look! Simon didn't believe in the resurrection of the dead. Why would he resurrect all these dead people then? I know Denise Gladstone's been dead for at least a year now."
"Uh, Esther?"
"Yeah?"
"Does bewitching ring a bell?"
"Keep talking," Esther said, imitating him, irritation in her voice.
"But there was a certain man, called Simon, which beforetime in the same city used sorcery, and bewitched the people of Samaria…"
"So," Esther said, "You're saying…he's raising the dead to deceive the people of Oldwood?"
"My point exactly."
"But why would this 'Simon' raise the dead when the Simon in Acts didn't believe in the resurrect—"
"Hadassah, Hadassah, Hadassah," Jesse said, calling her by the Hebrew name of her namesake, which told her he was exasperated.
"What!"
"Remember? To whom they all gave heed, from the least to the greatest, saying, This man is the great power of God. And to him they had regard, because that of long time he had bewitched them with sorceries."
"He's out to deceive."
"Good! You finally, got it. Remember, we're dealing with demons here. Demons are liars—deceiving spirits. They'd do anything to deceive anyone."
Meanwhile, Christina Nelson stood at a distance, watching, her arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow raised, smirking. She decided to turn around and walk away before sparks flew—angry sparks.
-oOo-
Jesse could not talk to Christina after Sunday School. All he got from her was a string of sarcastic comments. Angry, they parted ways, and Jesse took a walk to clear his mind. Did she love someone else? Was it something he said? Something he did? He forced those thoughts into the back of his mind and concentrated on the task ahead—ridding Oldwood of a demon and an ancient magician. It sounded absurd. Was last night really just a dream? Maybe it was true, after all. His walk led him off the church premises and into the community cemetery. He had remembered something weird he saw in his dad's office once. A map of Oldwood. He could not get the strange picture to leave his head. It was there—right there. Upon closer study of the map, one would observe that the old sawmill is at the center of town (a weird place to put a sawmill), surrounded by five points on the map—five cemeteries. On connecting these points, one could notice an uncanny image—that of a five-pointed star. It gave him goose bumps, thinking about it.
The sawmill! he thought to himself, forcing his legs to move forward. He had to do this. Maybe the key lay in that direction. He was going to find out.
He reached the sawmill, adrenaline coursing through his system. As he scoured the area for clues that might lead him to either Simon Magus or the demon who raised him, he noticed four slow-walking men—things—headed his way. Fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and he chose flight.
Stupid! he thought, Shouldn't have gone here!
He ran as fast as he could, hoping he wouldn't get an asthma attack in the process. He ran like a gazelle, outrunning the gathering undead who were after him.
He reached one of the five cemeteries—a trap! Why did it seem like he was going from one trap to the next? Despite the urge to run, he had to stop for a bit. He had to rest and catch his breath. Plus a gravestone caught his attention.
Denise Gladstone. Beloved Mother to her Children.
The grave was empty. Everywhere he looked, there were empty graves. It looked like the Second Coming—except it wasn't. It was an evil mockery of it. The sun shone through the trees and there was a glint of silver in the ground. Though disgusted with the idea of descending into the hole, Jesse jumped in out of curiosity. He picked it up. It was Christina's cross—the one he gave to her a week before graduation. A tearful final week, he recalled. Good thing she decided to come back to town.
With an effort, he leaped and crawled out of Denny Gladstone's grave. A few feet away, he recognized a book and a notebook. He opened the notebook. There was writing on the first page. It was a poem Chris had composed regarding God's creation—one of her reflections. A few paces away was her Bible.
This Bible presented to: Christina
On the occasion of: Her graduation.
By: Paul and Therese, her siblings.
Getting up, he tucked the cross into his pocket and hid the Bible and notebook under a tree. He'd get back to it later and give it to Chris before the evening service. Suddenly…
"Jess?"
He turned around.
"Get away from me! Get away!" he said, backing into the tree, nowhere else to go. It was his late best friend Dawson who had died of pancreatic cancer just that year.
"Dude. That's hurtful, man," the demonic version of Dawson said.
"Get away!"
Suddenly, his hands glowed white—a dazzling white. A sword appeared in his hand, a shield in the other, seemingly from nowhere. His chest glowed and there, on his body was his breastplate, cinculum militaire on his waist. His head and feet glowed, and there was his helmet and sandals. He was geared for battle.
-oOo-
Back on Magnolia Lane, an eerie scene unfolded like the rising action of a zombie apocalypse movie. Dozens of dead men, women, and children walked—or crawled—out of their graves and walked the streets. Esther, JF, and Edmund stood side-by-side, never leaving each other. They stuck like glue.
As the throng of undead swelled and swelled and came closer, JF had some encouraging words to say.
"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty! I will say of the Lord He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in Him I will trust…"
"He shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler… Because thou hast made the LORD which is thy refuge, even the Most High thy habitation… There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling!" Esther Vale added.
"Where in blazes is Jesse?" Edmund said, worried and irritated by their friend's absence. They were down to four, and now, he had gone AWOL?
"I saw him walk off," Esther said, "Last time I heard he had a fight with Christina."
"Christina?" JF said, "Which Christina? Peter's sister? Or the new girl who attends church?"
"Not Tina," Esther said, to clarify, "Chris."
"Great time to breakup with your girlfriend," Edmund said sarcastically.
"They're not official yet."
"Well then! Great time to pick a fight with your soon-to-be girlfriend!"
"Ahem!" JF said, clearing his throat, "Can we please just concentrate on this fight? Come on, now!"
Suddenly, they burst in an explosion of brilliant white light, so dazzling their enemies fell. And there stood Adara (looking like some heavenly shield-maiden), Eyal, and Raanan, battle-ready, helmets on their heads, their swords in hand, shields at the ready. It was only momentary—the hordes of hell recovered and advanced, the shock of it now gone. The three angels stood back to back, encircled by walking reanimated corpses.
"And the LORD, he [it is] that doth go before thee; he will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee: fear not, neither be dismayed," Adara said, swinging her sword and blocking an attack with her shield. As soon as her blade cut her attacker's flesh, the thing dissolved and was reduced to a rubble of bones.
"But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head," Adara said, chopping an attacker's head with the sharp edge of her buckler. This she did to encourage her companions, which seemed to work. The more she fought and the more she gave them words of encouragement, the stronger and braver they waxed, putting up a good fight though they were surrounded on all sides, seemingly outnumbered by the forces of darkness.
-oOo-
Back at Oldwood Cemetery, separated from his comrades, Amichai had to put up a really good fight on his own. And he wasn't sure how long he could last. He had to let the others know where he was—that he was alright. He took to the air and spread his wings, soaring as high, as far, and as fast as he could. He would deal with those monsters later; now, he had to locate the others.
-oOo-
Everywhere in Oldwood, everyone was indoors, doors and windows locked. Nobody dared go outside. The authorities had tried to control the situation but withdrew, afraid to interfere, afraid to incur the wrath of both sides. It was like being in a horror movie but a thousand times scarier. Even the mayor could do nothing. Some had already broken into houses. The screams of women and children filled the air. The sound of angry men as they warned the foul creatures to stand back. The smell of gunpowder. The ak-ak of machine guns and the boom of rifles. Breaking glass. But nothing could stop the legions of hell except the heroes of heaven. The only weapons that worked were the angelic blades. The bullets and other human means did nothing. All around the three angels, there lay heaps of skeletons, sickening to behold. Creepy. Repulsive.
At Oldwood Village Church, Christina Nelson, along with the Sunday School teachers, led the children to safety, ushering them into the Sunday School rooms, barring the doors and windows, and trying to comfort them. To calm them down.
In the sanctuary, the people gathered, scared, shaken, distraught, not knowing what to do. Pastor Langston Parker walked down the aisle to the pulpit, Bible in hand. He opened his Bible and read aloud from Psalm 121.
"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber. Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore."
-oOo-
Amichai flew in circles three times in the air before swooping down to rejoin his comrades.
"Be strong and courageous, be not afraid nor dismayed … for all the multitude that [is] with him: for [there be] more with us than with him."
"Amichai!" Raanan exclaimed, "My brother! You! Here!"
"Forgive me for the delay. I was hindered. They were many—" Amichai said, plunging his sword into an attacking enemy.
"Where?" Adara asked.
"The tombs. I escaped, coward-like. And then I recalled Hezekiah of old and gathered up my strength."
They had no more time to converse, however, for the battle raged on, the four angels hacking, sawing, cutting, blocking, chopping, stabbing any of the foul demons who advanced against them. Everywhere they looked, rotten men, women, and children turned to skeletal remains, bones littering the ground like a newly excavated battlefield. But the battle was far from over. They had yet to hunt the demon that did all this—him and his puppet Simon Magus.
-oOo-
In the center of town, another meeting of sorts was taking place. The gathering of the Unfaithful. A fellowship of the thieves and the wolves. Goats and apostates, great or small. Apollyon and Mephistopheles stood in their midst, before the altar the people had erected the night before, Simon Magus beside them. They turned to face Simon and bowed low.
"Behold," Mephistopheles said, "The Standing One."
Everyone bowed low. Not one head was left that was raised. All were prostrate before the dark sorcerer. He stretched out his hands and breathed on them.
"Receive the Unholy Spirit," he said, fire in his eyes. Suddenly, above the heads of all those present, there appeared what seemed to be tongues of fire. But they were black. Blasphemy. A mockery of the coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost.
"Go now," he said, "I send you out as wolves among sheep. Be as deadly as dogs and as crafty as serpents!"
-oOo-
While the pastor and the other members of Oldwood Village Church held an impromptu prayer meeting, some of the women and the Sunday school teachers were trying to keep the children calm. Christina Nelson did a fine job at it herself until she too began to panic. She felt around in her skirt pocket for the cross Jesse gave her. Not finding it there, she felt around for it on her neck and chest. Nothing. It was nowhere to be found. She was still superstitious and believed in the protection such objects offered. But her fear was for Jesse. Where was he? Where could he be? What happened to him? Is he safe? She was sorry she had snapped at him earlier. She was worried about him. Then came the sound of breaking glass. Screams. Crying. The foul smell of earth and decay. Christina jumped up but she wasn't fast enough. Someone grabbed her by the neck from behind and tried to pull her out of the building through the window.
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," Amichai said, plunging his sword into the vile thing's neck. It writhed, dropped Christina on the floor, and disintegrated to dust, piled up on the floor of the Sunday school room. Christina looked up at her hero and fainted. In the sanctuary, the same thing was happening. Demonic undead men, women, and children trying to break into the church, breaking the windows and doors down.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Gladstone, but this is the end of the ride for you," Amichai said, stabbing the creature posing as Denny Gladstone.
"I'm sorry I have to do this, Paul," Raanan said, cutting off an old man's head. It was a demon in the guise of an undead Paul Farris, a respected man in the community and well-loved at church.
"He was a good man," Amichai said, nodding, then resumed fighting.
The battle raged on. Wave after wave they came. The demonic hordes seemed innumerable. The battle was endless. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Eyal noticed Adara spreading her wings and taking off, her golden armor glinting in the sun. She flapped her wings and was gone in a minute.
"Where is she going?" Eyal said.
"I have no idea," Raanan said, trying to concentrate on fighting.
-oOo-
Meanwhile, there were more. A huge crowd advanced, intending to join in the fray. These men and women were alive—not dead. These were the ones Simon had "baptized." They had come to help. Reinforcements.
"We have company!" Raanan shouted.
"Great Jonathan!" Amichai exclaimed.
"Zeev is wounded and now Adara has left us to fend for ourselves," Eyal said, bitterly.
Then there was a trumpet blast.
-oOo-
"They come, Prince," a messenger said, winging his way back to Michael, "In numbers far greater than our own."
"Numbers do not win a battle," Michael replied.
"No," Adara said, "But I bet they help."
There they stood, poised, battle-ready. They were prepared for any attack from the enemy and prepared to attack the enemy themselves. Adara stood by Michael's side, her sword drawn, an army of angels under Michael's command behind them.
A trumpet blast.
"For Elyon!"
Another trumpet blast.
The angelic host swooped down, annihilating the enemy. Ash, dust, and bones littered the area. The people looked on, horrified. The angelic band was visible to their four comrades but invisible to mortal eye. The possessed townsfolk who had followed Apollyon, Mephistopheles, and Simon Magus all fell, black smoke emanating from their wounds as the heavenly army descended upon them with great force. The task done, Michael sent the army back to the Holy City. But the task was not yet fully done. The two demons and the magician were waiting for them.
Michael advanced, sword in hand, Adara at his side.
"Leave the sorcerer to me," a familiar voice said. Adara smiled. The others gasped. Zeev had returned—unexpected. Simon quaked in fear. Though his companions were strong, he did not trust them. And he knew that the three angels before them were even stronger. Zeev raised his sword and swung it, decapitating the magician in a second. The battle commenced, Apollyon moving to strike Adara, Mephistopheles battling Michael. Adara blocked Apollyon's blow with her own sword and Zeev kicked him in the stomach and pinned him to the ground, his foot on his stomach, sword trained at him. Adara too had her sword trained at the demon. They were too fast for him. He could not produce Hellfire. Zeev stabbed the creature and it slowly vanished to reveal none other than Romeo Chase Sr. himself. Mephistopheles' form vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving a girl in its wake. She fell to the ground. She wasn't from around those parts. But Jesse recognized her. Melissa's friend and roommate Haley. When she came to, she looked around, dazed and confused.
"Where am I?" she said, panicking, "Who are you people?"
-oOo-
Peter, Jesse, Esther, Kayla, Victor, Edmund, JF, and JR were hanging out at the church youth room. Victor and Kayla were sitting right next to each other and texting each other.
"Wow," Peter said with a laugh, "You guys are wasting minutes! You're sitting next to each other and you're texting each other?"
The two pre-teens just shrugged. Just then, Jesse got up. He remembered something he had to do.
"Where are you going?" JF said.
"Out," Jesse said, telling them to mind their own businesses in not so many words.
"Oh, come on!" Peter said, "We share secrets here, remember?"
"I do not have a secret!" Jesse said.
"It won't leave the group," JR said, "We promise."
"Whatever."
"Dude, man! Come on! Out with it already."
"Let's just say it has something to do with Matthew 5:23-24."
"Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift. Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift," Peter said, teasing.
"Look it up," Jesse said, then left. He walked from the church to the cemetery where he had last left Christina's Bible and prayer journal. He recovered them from under the tree, carried them in one arm, and felt around in his pocket for the cross. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad to know it was there. He ran to her house and rang the doorbell. It was her older brother Paul who answered the door. He had just graduated and had been recently ordained. He was now Father Paul Nelson. He wore the usual cassock.
"Good evening, Father," Jesse greeted, respectfully.
"Please… You can still call me Paul."
Jesse smiled.
"Is Chris here?"
"She…uh…"
"You're a priest now," Jesse said, smiling, "You know lying is a sin."
"She's in her room."
"Thanks," Jesse said, smiling, "Mind if I sit down while waiting for her?"
"Not at all," Paul said, "You know you're always welcome here."
Just then, Mrs. Nelson came out of the kitchen.
"Hello, Jesse," she greeted.
"Hello, Mrs. Nelson."
"Are you here to see Christina."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'm sorry. She won't come down. I'll try again, though."
"Thank you, ma'am. I'd appreciate it."
With that, Mrs. Nelson ascended the stairs and disappeared from view. Jesse could hear her knocking on Christina's door.
"Go away!" Christina shouted, angry, "Leave me alone…"
"Jesse's here to see you."
"I'm not seeing him!"
"Tell her I'm not leaving until I've talked to her," Jesse told Mrs. Nelson, which Christina heard.
"Fine!"
Five minutes passed. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. The door remained shut. Finally, unable to take it any longer, knowing that Jesse was still there, Christina came out of her room.
"You've got eight minutes."
"Look. Obviously, something's up."
Chris just rolled her eyes.
"But I have no clue what it is. Help me out here, okay? I thought we hit it off. I mean, I really like you."
"Me and who else?"
"What? What do you mean 'me and who else'?"
"Nothing. You've got seven minutes. Keep talking."
"Chris, if this is about Melissa—"
"You know what? Forget this! Why don't you go be with your girlfriend before she finds out you're here and get jealous?"
"What girlfriend? Chris, I haven't had a girlfriend for two years now!"
"I saw you talking to her today—at church!"
"Who?"
"Anna Popplewell look-alike? Dark hair? Beautifully done nails? Ring a bell?"
"Esther?"
"Mrs. Esther Parker. Cute. I hope you make a wonderful family someday."
"Chris, Esther is my cousin. We were discussing something. That's it. End of story."
"So… She's not—"
Jesse shook his head, smiling, trying not to laugh.
"I feel like such an idiot," she said, grinning sheepishly.
"Hey, you know what? It's my fault. I should've introduced you to each other." And there in the hallway, they hugged and kissed, Christina, giving her love to Jesse even before he asked for it.
After they both broke the kiss, Jesse gave Christina her Bible and journal.
"I believe this belongs to you," he said, handing it to her, smiling.
She gasped. "My Bible! And my journal…"
"That's not all," Jesse said, pulling out the cross from his pocket, "Here." He put it around her neck.
"You must be the answer to my prayer," she said.
"What prayer?"
"Remember Eliezer? Abraham's servant?"
Jesse nodded. Chris opened her Bible to Genesis 24:12-14.
"Then he prayed, "LORD, God of my master Abraham, make me successful today, and show kindness to my master Abraham. See, I am standing beside this spring, and the daughters of the townspeople are coming out to draw water. May it be that when I say to a young woman, 'Please let down your jar that I may have a drink,' and she says, 'Drink, and I'll water your camels too'—let her be the one you have chosen for your servant Isaac…
"I applied the same principle. I asked God to show me the right person for me. The sign? He should return three things that I'd lost."
"And how long has this been going on?"
"Senior year."
"No wonder you kept turning those jocks down. I was quite surprised."
Christina giggled, blushing.
"Hey, what time is it?"
"7:10."
"We've got 20 minutes to get to church."
"Race you there?"
"You're on."
"By the way… If my cousin looks like Anna Popplewell—a very good compliment—you look like a teenage version of Rachel McAdams."
Christina blushed and kissed Jesse's cheek.
Author's Notes: My apologies for not updating in awhile. I've been really busy—academically and at the church. I had no time to update. And I took the battle scene with Michael and the angels from a favorite movie of mine. Can you tell what movie it is? Also, the ending where Jesse and Chris make up, is taken from another favorite movie of mine—which I tweaked a little bit. Anyone care to take a guess?