Gnashing of Teeth

I still vividly recall the day he emerged from the water – a truly beautiful day filled with joy and peace. In a moment years of sadness and heartache washed away, all within the refreshing coolness of about three feet of water.

Yet, as he celebrated this glorious moment, I heard it for the first time. It began as a low rumble, akin to the early tremors of an earthquake, but it grew steadily. What was it? Then, a deafening bellow echoed from the depths – just as Reverend Timothy had described it in my youth, only worse. This was not of this world.

Have you ever seen a good horror film where an ancient monster has finally been released from its tomb? Or maybe a ghoulish terror is slowly lurking after some unsuspecting teenagers in a haunted house? With every mythical step this being, with its translucent yet somehow weighty legs pressing down on dusty wooden beams getting closer and closer until a good payoff. A good boo or an ahhh to really get your heart pumping.

Picture that, but louder. More guttural. A harsh, wet, terrible sound off in the distance.

The reverend’s words echoed in my mind. Right there in the good book. Jesus, going from town to town, warning people to get on board or face consequences. "Are we going to be saved?" they cried. To the nonbelievers he replied, "I don’t know you or where you come from. Away from me, all you evildoers." And for those cast out, "There will be weeping there, and gnashing of teeth."

That’s it. Right there in red letters. Gnashing of teeth. That is the sound, juxtaposed with the weeping and the wailing and the screaming. Here in the darkness. A black void broken up only by a sliver of light keeping the evildoers at bay.

Ah, the light – my light. A humble, unimpressive ball of warmth and gas amid the nothingness. Yet, it keeps the unspeakable sounds, the agony-inducing moans, and the gnashing of teeth at bay. The flame first appeared that soggy day when he rose from the water – a flicker, a wisp. In those early days, I didn't think much of it. My focus was on helping him decide what to wear or what to eat. Sometimes the days were sad, sometimes joyful, but recently, more depressing. Unspeakable thoughts.

Then came the light, changing everything in an instant. Hate replaced with hope, fear with confidence. In this new body, he felt invincible.

Sometimes the flame is a raging inferno. All attempts at containing the blaze are mute as it spills beyond its natural boundaries, consuming all that it touches. On those days, the sounds are distant and easy to forget.

Sometimes the flame is burned to a tiny speck, screaming out for oxygen. If you squint just right it vanishes and all hope is seemingly lost. But hope is what keeps the warmth alive. On those days – the bad days – the sounds are deafening and the sadness begins to spill in.

And then there are days like today. There is nothing particularly special about this light, yet it is far from insignificant. On days like today the sounds are close, but not too close. It is a day of indecisiveness, yet also confidence.

In those early days I believed the sounds to be coming from outside of this fleshy abode. Perhaps a movie theatre playing some new Oscar-worthy war movie starring Mel Gibson or Brad Pitt. Or perhaps he and his friends were playing the latest Call of Duty. That would explain the screaming and the wailing, but not the anger. Not the hate. This thing did not know love. It did not know joy. The being or beings on the other end of this sound only know pain and devastation. They want to hurt others. They want to consume us. They want to destroy the world.

That is why I must keep the flame alive. In the darkness, even on the bad days where I can practically see the scaly claws emerging from the shadows, I must stand guard. It is too important. To him. To his friends. To the world.

***

“Please turn to page 149 and let’s continue where we left off yesterday.” Mrs. Maynard scratched at her poorly fitted blouse and swiped to the next page of her tablet. “Mr. Williams, can you please tell us what Orwell is trying to portray in this scene.”

Allen slunk down in his chair. He loved a good book, but Animal Farm wasn’t it. He listened half-heartedly to Justin Williams talk about a cynical donkey and rebellion, hoping not to be called on. His stomach was in peak form, letting out a growl he was certain was going to interrupt the class. He looked over and caught a glimpse of Amber chewing on something and taking a peek under her desk. Who was she texting? Probably Caleb. Or Daren. Not me, that is for sure.

He sunk even further in his chair and looked up at the slightly crooked clock on the wall. It was 10:39 a.m. Just a little while longer, he thought. Lunch was right around corner.

As the bell rang, Allen gathered his things and stuffed them in his blue and white North Face backpack. He did a quick hair check, running his fingers through the messy-yet-somehow-organized fluff of auburn atop his head and slid out of his chair. As his eyes refocused from the slight reflection on his desktop to the world around him, a figure formed in front of him. It was a slim figure, donning a pair of blue jeans and a red and white striped top. The figure had curly blond hair and a button nose, a nose that was hard to miss sitting inches above the most florescent pink lipstick you have ever seen.

“Hey Allen,” the voice called out.

“Hi Amber. H… How are you?”

“I’m fine. Mrs. Maynard really got into me about missing today’s reading. Did you read it? I swear, I don’t know why we have to read such boring books.”

Allen’s eyes darted from those bouncing pink lips with a hint of bright blue bubble gum hidden just on the other side to the green eyes above. What was she talking about? He tried to replay the last 20 seconds in his head, but it was a waste.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he squeaked out. Why does my voice have to crack right now!? Time to change the subject. “H… Hey, what are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing, why do you ask?”

***

The flame flickered. It was minor, but I know I saw it move.

Oh boy, what is going on out there?

***

Allen shifted in place. He pulled the weighty backpack higher on his shoulder, holding the strap tightly with both hands. He again gave his hair a tussle. He cleared his throat so as not to make the same sound as before.

“Well, would you like to come to church with me tonight?” Allen looked down at the ground. He noticed a scuff mark on his new Nike’s. He resisted the urge to bend down and try to rub it off. It was the longest few seconds of his life.

“Oh. Well, sure,” the soft voice replied.

Allen’s eyes slowly lifted from the scuff mark atop his white sneakers to the green eyes and pink lips. “Cool. Do you know where it is?”

“I think so,” Amber said. “Is it the one across from the gas station? The one that Jen goes to?”

“That’s the one. So, I’ll see you there?”

“Yup. I can’t wait.”

Amber made her way to the doorway where her friends were waiting, giggling as they made their way out of Mrs. Maynard’s room. Allen gripped the strap on his backpack a little bit tighter and smiled.

Mrs. Maynard made a coughing sound into her hand and tilted her head toward the doorway. She too was hiding a little smile.

***

There it was again. I know I saw it move. Then, it began to grow.

The flame was expanding. Like a shaken-up soda can, the bright glowing orb was growing a belly with a flickering hairpiece. I had seen a lot of things with this flame, but not this. It grew and grew, pushing the darkness aside like an unwelcome guest. It was bursting outside of its typical boundaries. This light was going places.

***

Allen sat down at his usual spot in the cafeteria. Bosco sticks and a ranch-drizzled salad awaited his anxious stomach. His friends were there, all except Jason who still had not gotten over his second bout with Covid.

“Guys, I did it. I asked Amber out,” Allen blurted, his cheeks turning red at how loud he spoke.

“No way,” Porter cried out. “Not a chance,” Muffin chimed in.

“It’s true. Right after Mrs. Maynard’s class,” Allen added.

“So, where are you taking her,” Muffin asked.

Allen lowered his head. That darn scuff mark. He looked around the room. All eyes at his table were on him. This girl is all that he has talked about for weeks and now he is quiet?

“I… I invited her to church tonight.”

Silence. Doubt.

***

What’s happening?

The flame began to subside.

Oh my. In an instant, just as I had forgotten about the distant echoes of evil, they returned. And now they were louder than ever. With every retraction of light, another scream. Another wail. There, silhouetted in the flicking light, is that a tail? I am certain of it. Was that a black claw reaching through the void?

The sounds began to speak. At first desperate attempts at English, and then clear and singularly hateful words. “Failure.” “Unworthy.” “Unloved.” Awful words began to spill out of the darkness.

The flame continued its retreat. Its once broad borders quickly filled in by darkness and noise. And then it stopped.

***

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Allen exclaimed. “That is nothing to be ashamed of. I love my church. Our youth group does all sorts of great things. You all should come too!”

It was very unlike him to speak out. Yet ever since he was saved, Allen had a new confidence within him. Almost like a guiding light. The light of Jesus, his pastor called it. Allen reached for his backpack and pulled out a book. The book was black with gold-tipped pages and three letters in white on its cover, KJV.

“Guys, church is no joke. God is here for you. He is here for me. I was sad and depressed, but he saved me last year. When I was baptized, I felt like a different person. I had this strange warmth in my chest. I can’t explain it. All of the voices in my head telling me I wasn’t good enough and I wasn’t worth anything suddenly went away. I was a new person!” He was speaking so fast he had to slow to catch his breath. Excitement with a touch of nerves.

“And it is fun! We do so many awesome things together. My church is my family. And I want that for you guys too. I really hope you guys will come with me sometime.”

Allen was practically glowing. The boys gathered around the table spoke not a word.

***

As I retreated into the last inch of warmth within the void, something unexpected. The ball of light stopped shrinking. It hovered for a moment, flickered, and then it exploded.

Tiny fragments of orange and yellow spilled out of its pudgy frame, igniting the darkness. The horrible sounds stopped. The shadows disappeared. And then something amazing happened. A particularly bright, ambitious ball of light escaped outside of the boundary and leapt out into the darkness and disappeared. Where it went, I had no idea.

***

“Heck, I’ll go,” Porter slipped out. “Where is it?”

Allen smiled as he explained the converted commercial building across from a gas station with a cross on its roof. And then Allen did something he had never done before – at least not publicly.

He prayed.

Some at the small table were reluctant to join in, but all lowered their heads. One of the boys even asked mid-prayer if Allen would remember his dad who was about to have surgery. Allen’s invitation to church resonated with the boys. They were silent, contemplating.

In that moment, a warmth began to fill Porter’s chest. With his head lowered, he smiled. Something felt different. New. Exciting.

***

“When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” – John 8:12