Read Online Almost Heaven by Chris Fabry - Free Book Online Page B

heater, I would disperse them. But like flies, they multiplied in the return and the onslaught continued. I never once feared their retaliation, for these were merely harassers of the soul. They feared me and where I might send them. But the taste and smell of death in that room lured them time and again, and when they saw they were winning the battle over the man’s emotions and will, it only incited them, like fresh blood in a pool of sharks.

    I tell you this to prepare you for what I saw at the funeral. Billy handled the day as well as could be expected. There was an initial shock that came over him and seeped into the countryside. Not many came to the service for his father. A few made the long trek from Buffalo Creek and tsk-tsked about his untimely demise. Billy’s mother, of course, was in no shape to comfort her only living son, but she did the best she could. And the pastor of their local church did a much-less-than-adequate job of giving hope from the Scriptures.
    The final straw was the imp I found sitting on the pile of dirt above the freshly dug hole.
    â€œHave you no decency?” I said, teeth clenched.
    He dodged my lunge and skittered away to a nearby tombstone, where he sat enjoying the anger he had caused. “Actually, I think not. Decency was the last thing handed out, and my plate was already full of greed and avarice.”
    There was something familiar about his voice and demeanor, but I couldn’t place him. That he was alone surprised me because the death of humans is something the enemy delights in. They love to see the crying and grief-stricken families. But it is also normal to see many like me at such occasions because the death of one who is loved by the King does not bring sadness, but joy. The enemy sees this as the end, but in truth it is only the beginning, the opening of a new door into a new existence that will last for all eternity.
    â€œYou should not be angry with me,” the demon said, simpering on the tombstone. “You should be angry with yourself for not preventing such a tragedy. Or if you really want to channel your anger at the one who deserves it, you would be upset with your own Leader, the One who sent you here. Didn’t He forbid you to intervene?”
    I suddenly recognized the imp. He had been there, aiding and abetting the father of lies when the sickness had been brought on the righteous man Job. When he had broken the pots in order to scratch at the boils on his ravaged skin, this one had been there, mocking the host of heaven as we looked on, silent, unable to act because of the decree.
    I flew to the demon, sword unsheathed, and held the tip of the blade to his neck.
    Eyes wide, he gulped and stammered, “Now who has the lack of decency? It’s a funeral, after all.”
    â€œLeave this place now, demon, and do not return.”
    I let him get up from his awkward position, but then he turned to me. “This is not the end of trouble for your charge. We know the reason you were chosen.” He tilted his head sickeningly, too far, almost turning it all the way around. “Your Leader has left you vulnerable, just like the boy. He was abandoned by his father. And so have you been abandoned in this wasteland.”
    I drew closer. “There is no abandonment with the Most High. There is not a word on your tongue that He does not hear.” The demon shrank back as I spoke the words from David, of old:
    â€œâ€˜Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.’”
    The demon turned his head as if trying to block the words. When I was finished, he turned back and pointed to the grave.
    I glanced at Billy, whose eyes were filled, brimming and running