Hell of a Time

Rick Pascal (2019)

38-35 Brookside Avenue

Fair Lawn, NJ 07410

H (201) 791-9526

C (201) 208-7191

rickpas@optonline.net                  (Approx. 2060 words)

Hell of a Time

    Father Gregory smiled as he gazed out upon his Sunday morning flock. It was an unusually hot day for early June, not yet summer but already the temperature in the heartland was pushing ninety degrees. Many of the women were swishing home-made fans in front of their faces; men had loosened their ties and opened their collar buttons, to no avail. They were suffering in the heat. The church building committee had not yet installed the upgraded air conditioning system due to limits already realized in their budget. The old system was straining to pump out cool air at full capacity, barely managing to lower the temperature in the chapel.  

    Behind Father Gregory and slightly to his right, a woman was seated with her legs crossed. She wore a red dress with long sleeves and a white bow at the neck. The dress was cinched at the waist with a black patent leather belt. Black patent leather shoes completed her attire. A pleasant smile decorated her lips, the color of sweet red cherries, with matching nail polish. Her long black hair was pulled back into bun revealing an attractive and alluring visage. She displayed no jewelry that would distract from her beauty save one cornucopia-shaped pin that was attached to the collar of her dress.  Seated calmly at the dais, she did not appear to be uncomfortable in the heat.

The small church was virtually filled to capacity in anticipation of the long-awaited guest speaker, whom Father Gregory had invited as an addition to this morning’s sermon on the subject of how good always triumphs over evil. Every inch of pew space was occupied by the townsfolk, old and young alike, to hear Ms. Lucy Dickens, noted author and lecturer, speak about the relationship between God and Satan. The fact that her most recent book, Satan’s Journey Home had been one of the top ten on The New York Times Best Seller List for the past three weeks was not that much of a draw, since barely anyone in town read The New York Times, that biased, left-slanted newspaper of the ‘Liberal Elites’ on the East Coast, as some of the townsfolk labeled it. In fact, very few people in town had ever heard of Lucy Dickens, let alone read any of her work. No, it was Father Gregory’s encouragement and their love for him that inspired the townsfolk to attend in such numbers on this particular Sunday. Father Gregory himself had only read a brief synopsis of Satan’s Journey Home.  The critic’s book review gave him the notion to invite Ms. Dickens as a speaker. It was because Father Gregory’s congregation was along the same route as her current book tour that Lucy Dickens agreed to speak at his church. It was most unusual that she decided to waive her speaking fee this time.

    “And as we all know,” Father Gregory extolled, ending his sermon, “God in Heaven above, who controls all things in the universe, who created the Earth and all its inhabitants, who created each one of us in His own image, who has a plan for us, will always see that, in His infinite wisdom, generosity, mercy, and goodness will always triumph over evil.”

    Cries of “Hurrah,” “God be praised,” “Praise The Lord,” and even, “We love you, Father Gregory,” were shouted repeatedly from the congregation as they stood in unison and applauded his sermon. Smiling and thanking his flock profusely, Father Gregory stood with his arms extended, his hands motioning all to take their seats and return to the quiet calm of Sunday morning worship. When all were again seated, decorum restored, Father Gregory spoke once again.

    “And now, my friends and neighbors, I want to introduce to you a woman who has studied our beloved Bible, the concept of good and evil, God and the Devil, and who has written a book that some say could possibly change forever the way we perceive Satan himself. Or at least, that’s what the New York Times critics have to say. I haven’t read the book per se, but personally, I’m not so sure that what anyone has to say, other than what The Bible says is truth, will change or alter God’s path for us. But I’m always willing to hear what others think.”

Taking a notepad from his inside pocket and putting on his reading glasses that were hanging from a neck cord on his chest, Father Gregory continued, “Our guest speaker is a learned Bible scholar, having studied at The Sorbonne in Paris, and receiving her Master’s and Doctorate degrees in Bible Studies from Baylor University and Pepperdine University.”  With a chuckle, he continued, “So, it appears she knows something about the Bible.”  Which was accompanied with more chuckles from the flock.

  “And now, without further ado, please welcome Ms. Lucy Dickens, author of the best-selling book, Satan’s Journey Home.”

    Lucy Dickens rose slowly from her seat to the cordial applause from the worshippers and approached Father Gregory’s lectern with a decided air of confidence.  As she stood looking out over the crowd, two flashbulbs went off from the back of the room. Father Gregory had notified the local community newspapers of this morning’s event, and they were also eager to hear what she had to say. No doubt this would be a significant news item in this section of the Bible Belt.

    “My dear friends,” Lucy said, smiling, after pausing few moments to peruse her audience, “thank you so much for inviting me to your beautiful town and this lovely church.” After another short pause during which she displayed a broad smile that revealed beautiful white teeth, she continued, “Has anyone here ever actually seen the Devil? Ever confronted Satan himself?”

No matter where anyone in the crowd was seated, each person felt that Lucy Dickens was looking directly at them, as if she were speaking to each one individually. She seemed to have instantly created an almost hypnotic effect on the townspeople.

    The congregants turned their heads from side to side to see if anyone would respond to Ms. Dickens’ question. No one responded.

    “Hmm,” Lucy uttered. “Then how do you know he exists?”

    There were rumblings and mutterings from all the pews.

    “Wait just a minute,” said a man jumping up, shouting. “We know he exists. The Bible says so.” He sat down to the applause and cheers of the crowd.

    “And the Bible is God’s truth,” called out a woman seated behind him, which was accompanied by multiple shouts of “Amen,” “Praise The Lord,” and more applause.

    Smiling, Lucy Dickens continued with her questions. “And what, dear friends, does the Devil do? That is, what is his role in our lives?”

    “The Devil is pure evil,” called out another woman, “he must be shunned,” which was followed with more applause.

    “What if I told you that the Devil, Satan, Beelzebub, Lucifer or whatever you wish to call him, just wants to be loved in the same way that you all love God?” Lucy asked. “And that if you loved him, all your wishes, dreams and hopes would be granted.”

    “What are you talking about?” called out a man from the front row. “Love the Devil????”

    “Let me give you some new insight,” Lucy replied. “As you know, if you’ve studied the Bible as I have, Satan was an angel created in perfection and beauty. Angels, just like all of you and everyone else on Earth, have free will. You can choose to do good or you can choose to do evil. God doesn’t cause you to do good, and Satan doesn’t cause you to do evil. It’s your choice. You make the decision. Satan just wanted to exercise his own free will, granted by God. If God were truly just, He would have allowed Satan to remain in Heaven. But how can one exercise free will if one must follow whatever God says? There’s the paradox. And, being a jealous God, He punished Satan by casting him and his followers out of Heaven. As the title of my book states, Satan just wants to go home, back to Heaven and sit with the other angels up on high.”

    “You’re spouting nonsense,” yelled someone from the back of the room. “Blasphemer,” yelled another.

    Amidst the commotion and disruption going on throughout the assembly, Father Gregory stepped forward to beg for calm.

“Please, brethren, please quiet down. Stop shouting. Show some respect for our guest. You may not agree with her, but please allow her to explain herself before you condemn her,” he pleaded, arms waving up and down, attempting to restore decorum, imploring his flock to take their seats.

Throughout the attack on her presentation, Lucy Dickens remained calm and composed, with a slight hint of a smile on her cherry-red lips.

“I fully understand your concerns,” she articulated, holding her arms up to her audience as they began to take their seats. “Please let me ask you another question,” she continued. “You claim to be God-fearing, righteous, religious and basically good people, am I right?”

“You bet your sweet life, we are,” a woman shouted back.

“You all follow God’s commandments as well as the laws of the land, do you not?” Lucy responded.

“Yes, we do,” the same woman answered. “What’s your point?”

“Here’s my point, madam,” Lucy retorted, her eyes staring down directly at the woman who began to cower in her seat. And as Lucy focused her gaze on that woman, every other person in the room felt Lucy’s gaze burning directly into their own eyes. They sat glued to their seats, unable to move, unable to speak or to look away from Lucy’s eyes.

“You, all of you, and others who are like you have chosen, of your own free will, to follow evil. It was not Satan who forced you, but it was your own dark hearts that made you decide to enslave others, to denigrate those whose faces or skin color was not like yours, whose belief systems were not yours, whose pleas to alleviate their burdens were disregarded, whose requests for asylum remained unheeded. You made the decision to turn them away, while at the same time claiming to follow God’s will.”

As the throng sat, still fixed in their seats, Lucy again raised her arms above her head to the sound of thunder. She began to grow taller and taller until her head reached just below the inverted boat-shaped church ceiling. Her face elongated into a grotesque rectangle and her ears extended unnaturally to reveal their true pointed configuration. The color of her skin turned the color of rusted metal and her eyes, now yellow and cat-like in shape growled at all who remained transfixed with fear.  Flying, insects flew out of her cornucopia brooch and began to circle the flock of horrified congregants, biting and stinging wherever they found a victim.

“You are the sinners! You are the blasphemers,” she bellowed. “You don’t deserve free will any longer.”

Amidst another clap of thunder, a black cloud appeared above the church. The entire building quaked and creaked, collapsing in on itself, falling into an enormous hole that opened beneath it, swallowing the building and its inhabitants into oblivion. Within moments following this catastrophic event, the gigantic hole closed up, the dark cloud disappeared, and the sky returned to a robin’s egg blue, sporting several white clouds that looked like cotton balls. The sun shone on an otherwise beautiful late spring afternoon. Birds sang in the trees, crickets chirped, and frogs croaked in a nearby pond. The aroma of newly mowed grass entranced the air.

Lucy Dickens dusted herself off and strode over to her bright red Mercedes. Before starting the engine, she opened her calendar/planner, took out a Mont Blanc pen and ticked off the name of the church that once occupied the location one hundred feet from where she was parked. 

 “What a lovely day,” she mused.  “Now off to Borough Park, Brooklyn to meet with Congregation Beth Israel next Sunday. I must call Rabbi Pincus to confirm,” Lucy said to herself as her Mercedes sped away leaving behind an empty lot in a cloud of dust.

THE END