I lift my bushy eyebrows. “That’s self-evident considering your history, don’t you think?” and we laugh as easily as the friends I want us to become. “No formal religion in your background? No miracles? Spiritual quests? Moments of wonder? Cries to God in your dark hour of need?”
Kate says, “I understand the relief your faith provides. You think it is the foundation for hope and comfort. The cause and effect you believe in are sin and reformation. Fear plays a big part in encouraging people to take the high road. I don’t believe faith or fear lifts people to a better life. The cause and effect I believe in are education and opportunity. Those actions and goals elicit positive change. A god monitoring my days seems naive at best and dangerous at worst.”
“Kate. Oh, Kate.” I chuckle at her heartfelt tirade, and blessedly, she’s not offended. “You are a seeker whether you admit it or not. An angel of God. I’ve watched the miracles you perform. Your faith in these children’s possibilities brings about change. Sadie Blue is overjoyed you’re teaching her to read. The knowledge is secondary to your faith in them. You lift them up. Not education. Whether you believe in God, He believes in you.”
“I love to teach, and I love to learn.”
“And God is Love.”
Kate laughs without judgment and pours more tea in our cups. “Eli, we’re not on different sides. I just don’t know what you say you do know. You believe in the purity of a god and the evil of a devil, conjured creatures that serve your need.”
“Kate”—my voice turns stern—“don’t speak lightly of these things you know little about. I’ve witnessed battles between God and the Devil, and I’m here to tell you those battles are real.”
Her bright face settles into serious, and she props her chin on the palm of her hand to listen. “Tell me, Eli. Tell me what you know.”
This unguarded spirit of exchange has cemented our friendship so easily, yet these are inky waters I will wade in today and carry Kate with me—if she wants to come.
“We need another pot of tea.”
? ? ?
“I was nine years old when I met the devil face-to-face.”
As expected, Kate’s eyes widen, and she leans forward. I take these as good signs.
“You never forget something like that. I went with Daddy and Granddaddy to call on Pharrell Moody. The devil had crawled right into his skin.
“Pharrell had been a peaceful hermit until the day his eyes turned red and a foul smell filled his body. Hair dropped off his scalp, his arms and legs. His skin was bare, and he looked like a newly shed snake wet with a tinge of green. Some folks think he sold his soul the winter before when the blizzard blew long and trapped men in desperate places, caught between life and death. Whatever the reason, when his frightful story filtered down to church, Daddy went to check on this struggling soul.”
Speaking of the devil always dries me out. I down my tea and Kate fills my cup.
“When Daddy got back from Pharrell Moody’s place that day, he walked in, gripped Mama in his arms, and whispered long in her ear. Her backbone went rigid and she clutched Daddy tight while he whispered. When he stepped back, she dropped to her knees and started praying, her lips moving, her body keening, but no sound came out. Daddy said, ‘Everything’s going to be okay, little Eli. Stay with Mama while I get Granddaddy and the deacons for a talk. We got the Lord’s business to tend to in the most urgent way.’
“Mama stayed on her knees until the pain of kneeling made her cry out. When Daddy came back, he helped her to her feet and told her a stranger was coming to drive the devil out.”
Kate breaks in. “Eli, are you talking about exorcism?”
“Yes. I’ve witnessed others since Pharrell Moody. He was my first and the most sinister.”
“In what way?”
“It’s what I saw when Daddy, Granddaddy, the deacons, and the stranger arrived with me in their midst. Pharrell Moody, a man in his late fifties with old-man ailments, was on the mossy roof of his hut, naked, coated in mud and blood. He howled like a panther. His fingers were claws. He moved to the edge of the roof and urinated a long blue arc to mark the stranger, then cackled and hopped from foot to foot in glee.
“Confident we were no match for him, Pharrell leapt off the roof and landed in our midst. I stood behind Daddy, shielded from the devil. The foul air around him stung my nose. The beast rumbled with cunning. The seven men encircled Pharrell Moody, Bibles open toward the devil. They spoke in unison. ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me…’”
“Psalm twenty-three,” Kate whispers, captivated, eyes wide behind glasses.
“Yes.” I steeple my hands in prayer with fingertips to my lips. “Simple, sweet words everyone says often without knowing their power. The devil hates those words. Those words are acid poured on the devil’s brain. Do you want to know what those words did to the demon?”
She nods like a schoolgirl.
“The demon inside Pharrell Moody was trapped in this circle of seven believers armed with the Holy Word. The stranger raised his voice. ‘In Jesus’s name, I command all demons to leave at once! In Jesus’s name, I command all demons to leave…’ Pharrell Moody clutched his head, writhed in pain, and fell to the ground while the seven holy men drew closer, chanting tirelessly. The creature cried red tears. He clawed at his body. I didn’t think anyone could survive what I saw.”
I drink more tea and take out my handkerchief to wipe my brow. Kate stays respectful and quiet.
“The sun set when Pharrell Moody lay on the ground emptied. Daddy turned him over so we could look upon his face. The fight was out of him. The devil had departed for easier prey. We watched Pharrell Moody heal, and right before our eyes his muscles knit back together and skin grew over wounds. Hair grew back as white as chestnut blossoms. The claws retracted and his humped back melted away. We stepped back, and Pharrell Moody sat up, dazed and liberated.”
I end wearily with, “That day, I answered the call to serve God the rest of my days.”
Kate sits back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest. She takes a deep breath and lets it out. I worry I’ve gone too far in my ancient tale of good versus evil, but she surprises me and says, “I understand. You wanted to be on the Good Guy’s side, right? I don’t blame you.”
? ? ?
The end of September grows close, and against my heart’s odd hesitation, I decide to go to the Baptist Convention. I rationalize that my new knowledge will give Kate and me something different to talk about. How erudite I’ll sound with altered perspectives to old debates!