The Other Side of Darkness (24 page)

Finally prayer time ends, but I don’t see Sarah anywhere. I check the rest room and the back office, but she seems to have vanished into thin air. My heart pounds with fear as I assume a mother’s worst nightmare—my child, my precious eight-year-old has been abducted! I run across the room to where Cynthia is standing by the door, saying good-bye to some of the stragglers.

“I’ve lost Sarah! I can’t find her anywhere.”

We quickly rally a search party, some heading out back, some out to the parking lot in front, but she is nowhere to be found. I feel like my heart is breaking, like I’m going to die right here in the parking lot. How could I have lost my baby?

“Let’s pray.” Cynthia grabs my hands. “The Lord can show us where Sarah is.” Although I want to continue searching, I bow my head.

“Mommy!” calls that familiar sweet voice, ringing like music on the air.

“Sarah!” I release Cynthia’s hands and run toward my daughter. A shaggy-haired guy in a camouflage coat is walking next to her, and I’m thinking he must be part of the search party although I don’t remember him. I wrap my arms around my baby girl, pulling her tightly to me.

“Thank you!” I finally say to the young man. “Thank you for finding my girl!”

“He didn’t find me, Mommy.” Sarah grins at this stranger. “I wasn’t lost.”

“Then where were you?”

“Brother Ben took me to get a treat.” She holds up a brown and yellow box of Milk Duds, her favorite. “We went to the grocery store while everyone was praying.”

“You what?”

“It was my idea,” admits
Brother
Ben. “I didn’t have any breakfast, and my stomach was starting to growl. Sarah was sitting all by herself, so I asked her if she wanted to come.”

“Well, you should’ve asked me,” I say in a controlled voice. I actually want to scream at this young idiot. What on earth does he think he’s doing, taking someone’s little girl off like that? But by now the rest of the search party is gathering around us. And soon Brother Ben, the hero of the moment, is being praised for finding my lost child.

“We need to go,” I tell them, still holding tightly to Sarah’s little hand as I lead her to the car.

We reach the car. “Ouch, Mommy. You’re squeezing my fingers.”

I release her hand and unlock the car and open the door for her. But first I turn and look into her eyes. “Don’t ever do that again, Sarah Jane.”

“What?” She climbs into the passenger seat.

“Don’t ever go off with a stranger like that again!” I slam the door shut and stomp around to the other side. I am so angry at her. I can’t believe that Sarah would do something like this. She knows better! I get in, buckle my seat belt, and start the car. I hear a sniffling sound next to me, and when I turn to look, she’s sitting there with tears rolling down both pink cheeks. “Why are you crying?”

“Because you’re mad at me.”

“I was really, really worried, Sarah. And you know better than to go off with a stranger. We’ve talked about that before.”

“Brother Ben wasn’t a stranger. He was at church, Mommy. And he introduced himself and told me I was pretty. And you were busy.”

“Just because someone tells you his name and acts nice doesn’t mean you should trust him or go someplace with him. You know that you never go anyplace with anyone unless Daddy or I give you permission.”

“But you said we’re all brothers and sisters at church. I thought Brother Ben was like Matthew. And it would be okay for me to go to the store with Matthew.”

Maybe back in the old days when Matthew could be trusted. “Not without our permission. Even with your own brother, you need to ask me first. Do you understand?”

She nods but doesn’t say anything.

“Answer me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

I put the car into reverse, and as I back up, I notice Carl and another man carrying the sign out to the front of the church: New Fire. I know I should be happy to see it, but at the moment I feel slightly burned.

T
oday is Halloween, and despite my sermon to the girls that it’s just another day, they seem wound up as I drive them to school. I was surprised to learn they’re having a Halloween party this afternoon. Things are quickly changing at this so-called Christian school. Fortunately, it doesn’t involve costumes, a relief since my girls aren’t getting any this year.

“Have a good day,” I say with no enthusiasm as I drop them by the front door. They happily wave and run inside. As I pull out, I hear a horn honk. I jump, thinking I’m about to hit someone or be hit. But then I see Colleen’s SUV and her hand waving out the window, as if she wants me to come over and join her. So I park next to her, get out, and ask how she’s doing.

“I am totally exhausted,” she says, letting out a big sigh. “But we’re packed and ready to go. We leave tomorrow morning, crack of dawn.”

“I’m surprised you brought the boys in today.”

“They wouldn’t accept no for an answer. The big Halloween party, you know.”

“Right.”

“So what are you and the girls doing for Halloween tonight?” she asks.

“Nothing. Halloween is an evil holiday.”

“It’s what you make of it. If you get all wigged out and think it’s evil, well, then it is evil. But if you can lighten up and just have fun, why not?”

“So are you taking the twins trick-or-treating?”

“No. Dennis said to forget it. He calls it legalized begging.”

“Smart man.”

“Hey, why don’t you bring the girls over to our place?” she says suddenly. “I mean, it’s a mess of boxes and stuff, but I’ve got tons of trick-or-treat candy. Dennis will probably be working on his computer all night, trying to get stuff squared away with his new job. But we can let the kids watch a DVD, and you and I can have one last night of hanging out together.”

“I don’t—”

“Please, Ruthie. Just this one last night?”

I smile at my old friend. “You know, that actually sounds kind of fun. And I’m sure the girls will be thrilled.”

She hugs me. “All right, it’s a date. We’ll send out for pizza.”

“How about if I bring a salad?”

She laughs. “Sure, if you insist on nutrition. Let’s make it six. With the time change it’ll be getting dark by then, and I’ll bet the little goblins will be out early.”

As it turns out, she was right. The little goblins are already hitting the streets, and it’s not even five. And despite having the porch light off and the car in the garage, the trick-or-treaters keep coming.

“We’re not here,” I tell the girls. “Stay away from the door.”

“I just wanna see,” pleads Mary.

“No. And if you want to go to Colleen’s tonight, you’ll mind
me.” I hand her a carrot. “Peel this.” Then Sadie, who has been sent outside because of the cat, begins to bark, probably at one of the obnoxious goblins ringing our doorbell. “Tell Sadie to be quiet,” I yell at Sarah. “Give her a Milk-Bone or something.” So Sarah goes out and quiets the dog. Then we finish making the salad. And even though it’s only five thirty, I tell the girls it’s time to go.

“We’ll drive around a little,” I say quietly as we sneak through the garage to get into our car and make a stealthy exit. I drive around the neighborhood for a while, allowing the girls to watch the various trick-or-treaters dashing around in the dusky light. I know they’re just kids, but it looks kind of creepy, and sometimes I think maybe I’m seeing actual demons out there masquerading right along with the trick-or-treaters. And why not? This is one of the most evil nights of the year. Of course the demons would be out there too.

“It’s starting to rain,” Sarah says sadly. “It’ll probably ruin their costumes.” I turn on the wipers and hope that this sudden downpour will dampen their Halloween fun, sending these wild children home, safe and sound, where they should be. Finally we make it over to Colleen’s, and I feel grateful to be inside her friendly and well-lit house. We eat, and then the girls and the twins play hide-and-seek among the boxes until they finally calm down and plant themselves in front of the big-screen television, the only piece of furniture still remaining in the family room. Not that they seem to mind as they roll around on the rug, acting like wild things themselves.

“Too much sugar,” I say as Colleen and I sit at the island in her kitchen. “They’ll probably never go to sleep tonight.”

“Fine with me.” She refills my cup with decaf. “I’d like the boys to be all worn out on the road tomorrow. The more they sleep, the happier I’ll be.”

“Your boys are lively,” I admit, which is an understatement since they’ve both been diagnosed as hyperactive, although Colleen and Dennis refuse to put them on Ritalin.

“Speaking of boys, what’s Matthew up to these days? Still working at the bookstore?”

So I tell her the latest about Matthew, about how he’d started getting rebellious and drinking and how he recently decided to move in with Jason. I don’t mention my ultimatum; somehow I don’t think she would understand that. I also don’t tell how I purged his room of his sinful books and CDs a few days ago. As far as I know, he hasn’t even discovered this yet himself. Maybe he’ll assume those items were lost during his hasty packing yesterday.

“We were rebels too, Ruth. Don’t forget about our wild days.”

“I know. And it’s Matthew’s choice to move out. Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Maybe …” She frowns. “There’s something I want to tell you … before we leave … It’s about your new church.” Then before I can stop her, she begins to slander Brother Glenn, claiming that he is still having an affair.

“How can you say that?”

“It seems to be common knowledge.”

“You mean evil gossip.”

“I just thought you should know.”

I’m trying not to get mad, reminding myself that Colleen will be gone tomorrow. Why make a scene? I’m literally biting my tongue to keep from reacting.

“I’ve heard that the woman Glenn’s involved with is part of your new church, Ruth.”

“Please!” I stand now. “I think it’s time to go.”

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t leave without warning you.”

“Thank you very much,” I say crisply. I call the girls and tell them we’re leaving. Naturally, they protest, but I firmly remind them it’s a school night.

“We’ll be praying for you,” Sarah tells Colleen after everyone has hugged and said good-bye.

I smooth Sarah’s mussed-up hair and nod. “That’s right. We will.”

Colleen looks directly at me. “And we’ll be praying for you too.”

I try not to think about Colleen’s slanderous words as I focus on driving. It’s dark and rainy, and the night feels evil. I’m just starting to relax as we get close to home, but that’s when I notice something fairly large lying on the side of the road. First I think it’s a deer. Then I think it might be a child in some kind of animal costume. Fearing that a neighborhood child has been hit by a car, I screech to a stop.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” asks Mary.

“I don’t know. I think a trick-or-treater’s been hurt!” I jump out of the car and run over to the damp, furry body. I bend down and see that it’s not a child at all. It’s a dog. It’s our beautiful golden retriever, Sadie, and she’s not moving.

I fall to my knees on the wet pavement. Scooping the upper half of the lifeless animal into my arms, I burst into tears. Seconds later Sarah and Mary are beside me, and although I can only sob into the soggy fur, both girls are fully aware of what has happened. And illuminated by my headlights, the three of us cluster together on the edge of the shiny wet street, holding on to each other and on to the cold, damp creature that only hours ago was bursting with life.

Finally I realize that I need to move Sadie and to get my girls safely off this dark street. “Get back in the car, girls.”

“What about Sadie?” sobs Sarah. “We can’t just leave her here.”

“We’re not leaving her,” I say as I get into the car. “I just want to pull the car into the driveway, and then I’ll come back to get her.”

I park the car and unlock the house, telling the girls to go inside. “I’ll bring Sadie home.”

“She’s too heavy to carry,” says Mary.

“Even Daddy has a hard time lifting her to go to the vet,” Sarah reminds me.

“Our red wagon,” says Mary. “We can put her in our wagon.”

So we go around to the backyard, and we notice the normally locked gate is unlatched and open. “Did you girls leave the gate open?” I ask as we all stand, staring at it.

“I haven’t come through this way in a long time,” says Mary.

“Me neither,” says Sarah.

“Maybe a trick-or-treater played a trick on us?” Mary’s voice sounds shaky.

A chill runs through me as I consider the evil forces that are out in number tonight. As we go to find the red wagon, I sense danger. I keep my eyes wide open, preparing myself to go to battle if needed. We war not against flesh and blood but powers and principalities.

I glance over my shoulder as we dump the rainwater out of the girls’ wagon, and then the three of us take it back to where Sadie is still lying. Together we lift her, loading her body into the cold metal wagon, and then like a funeral processional, with me pulling the wagon and the two girls walking directly behind, we somberly proceed down the sidewalk to our house. We go through the still-open gate and into the backyard and pull the wagon to a protected area by the back door. I unlock it, and Mary runs inside to get a big beach towel to cover Sadie. We all help to tuck her in. Sarah bends down and kisses her, and Mary follows her little sister’s example.

“We love you, Sadie,” says Sarah.

“She’ll be okay here until tomorrow,” I tell the girls. “Then Daddy will take care of her.”

We’re still crying when we get inside the house. But I tell the girls to go dry off and get ready for bed. I do the same, towel drying my hair and changing into warm polar-fleece sweats, but I still feel chilled underneath. I turn up the heat in the house, and when I go to check on the girls, to tuck them in and to listen to prayers, they are still very upset. We talk some more about Sadie and about why we think this happened. I try to assure them that everything’s okay and that although we’re sad, we will get over this. But even as I say these things, I don’t believe them myself. I feel like such a phony.