I knew there was something wrong before I knew there was really something wrong. It's like the little nabbing feeling you get when you walk out the door wondering if you are forgetting something. Later, it's a duh moment when you find out that 'yup, that's just what you did.'
I'm an accountant. And the books that day just weren't balancing. I work from home three days a week and in the office for two. I have the added advantage of my coworker, who is also my fiancé, living nearby. Leo can run in anytime I have an issue with my books.
Believe me, a second pair of eyes is gold.
It troubled me that no matter how I tried, I couldn't adjust the ledger. I did everything I could think of. I was getting ready to call Leo, as much as I hated too, when there was a knock at the door.
I brushed my hand across my forehead pushing my bangs out of my eyes. The last thing I needed was an interruption and thought about ignoring the knock. But it was persistent. And forceful.
I lifted the curtain a bit to see if I could tell who was at the door, but my view was hindered by the porch column. All I could see was a shadowy gray form. Slithering. Like a wraith. I blinked and shook the fanciful notion from my mind.
My jaw dropped when I yanked the door open. I swear that a Renaissance statue sculpted by one of the great artists, like Michelangelo or Donatello, was standing right in front of me. Of course, he was dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, but his clothes didn't hide the sinewy muscles he sported under his shirt. And that curly, dark hair. I wanted to run my fingers through it. He was just too good to be true!
In his hand, he held a massive ledger. At least that's what I thought it was. It looked like one of those old account books from another generation that contain beautiful script and great detail.
Then, he smiled. And everything changed. That's when I knew something was really wrong.
I can't describe the feeling that came over me, but I can tell you this. The hair on my arms stood up and a coldness washed over me like I never felt before. I rubbed my frosty arms and told myself I was being foolish. There was nothing sinister in his appearance, except for maybe that strange smile. I figured I was dealing with the emotional stress that came with this job. It was causing me to have delusions, or maybe illusions. That is, until he spoke.
"It is time to settle the accounts."
His voice was smooth and perfectly modulated.
"Accounts?" The word came out of my mouth in a squeak. I glanced sideways at my computer. My spreadsheets were open. I swallowed. Hard. "Who are you? What do you want?"
"You know me. Everyone does, though some are less apt than others to acknowledge me."
I shook my head. "I've never, ever met you before."
The smile on his face just widened. "Oh, yes. Yes, you have. We've been introduced. If you look deep into the recesses of your soul, you will see that you do know me." He opened the book.
I shuddered. I remembered something from the Bible about some books being opened. "Am I dying?"
"Nothing that simple or easy. No," he shrugged. "I want to help you get out of a mess you created. If you let me, everything you do or say from now on will be because I want you to do or say it. But it has its advantages. Fun. Games. No worries.
My mess! The mess I created. He knew about it. My legs began to shake. I feared that if I didn't sit down, I'd fall down. I backed into the nearest chair and plopped into it.
The most awful thing was that I did know him. It's just that all these years, I refused to acknowledge him. All the temptations I refused to succumb to and the baser nature of humanity I thought I was immune from, came back to haunt me. For one brief, dark moment, I, who prided myself on my integrity gave in to a moment of weakness and embezzled money from my firm. It was all because a family member was desperate and needed money I didn't have. It wasn't a great deal of money, but enough to land me in jail if I was caught. I regretted my actions right away, but it was too late. I planned to pay it back when I could, and by a little juggling here and a little stretching there, I was able to hide my nefarious activity. Until today.
"
I never gave the 'devil his due'. That phrase popped into my head and I whispered it and added, "so, now I have to sell my soul."
"I can't force you do to that. Something about free will and all. What I can do is make you see the awful consequences of your actions so that you will want to."
The room began to spin. I was whisked into a vortex of unimaginable scenes. I saw the years I spent in jail, then the scene where I was released but no one would hire me for anything. I saw Leo leave me for another woman, and finally in the face of despair, I saw myself teetering on a cliff, looking down into the chasm below. I tried to scream, but I couldn't.
The smooth, modulated voice called me back to the moment. "And here is what you will face if you accept my help."
Again, the room spun. This time, the scenes I saw were full of laughter, prosperity and success. But there was a film over the last scene. I almost missed it because the compelling voice spoke again. I was so intrigued by the final image that I did not heed it at first.
I was standing with a large crowd of people. We all seemed so compatible and were surrounded by light. I couldn't see beyond the light, but I saw a great book on a stand. A hand opened it, and from it, with love and compassion, judgement was pronounced. "You chose your path. Depart from me."
People began to wail. Someone cried out, "For how long?"
I wanted to hear the answer, but that voice, now more urgent, tried to block out the answer. Still, before I came back to the moment, I heard a quiet, echoing word.
"For...ever....ever.....ever."
I trembled. So, it was my choice. I took a deep breath. "Even a condemned person has the right to a phone call."
I didn't wait for permission. I grabbed my phone off the table. I could barely dial Leo's number. When he answered, my voice was so choked I could hardly speak. "Leo," is all I managed to say.
"Hey, sweet lady, we must have a bad connection. You sound terrible. I tried getting hold of you several times, but the call kept dropping. I'm right at your door."
I dropped the phone and found the courage to jump out of the chair just as the door opened and Leo walked in. Weeping, I threw myself into his arms. The strength of them kept me from collapsing.
I felt him look over my head I had buried in his chest. He spoke to the man standing in the center of the room as if he knew him. "You have no business here. Get out!"
My voice was muffled in Leo's chest. "But, he does." It broke my heart to confess to Leo what I had done. When I finished, I hardly dared breathe as I waited for his response. The words he spoke gave me great comfort. I felt so loved. And humbled.
"I know what you did, and why. I put the money back for you and cleared the account. I couldn't reach you to let you know so I came right over. I figured you'd be racking your brains to find a way to juggle the account, never realizing that it was already corrected."
I was confused. "How do you know this man?"
"I was introduced to him many years ago, myself. He is darkness, disguised as light. In a moment of despair, I almost made the wrong choice. But, there was One greater than he. And that One was the true light. The One who has settled all our accounts."
The devil, for that's who I now knew he was, shrugged. His eyes narrowed. When he spoke, his voice was no longer smooth or modulated. "So, I wasn't in time. It doesn't matter. There is always someone else."
In front of Leo and me, he changed into a shadowy mist and swirled through the closed door.
We rushed out on the porch, but all we saw was a sweet looking old lady who stopped to speak to my elderly neighbor, a recent widower.
My neighbor nodded several times, then motioned for the lady to join him on his deck. Before she climbed the steps, she stopped and looked over at us. She smiled a great smile that stretched across her face. And, I knew who it was. Before I could call out a warning, darkness reached out his hand.
And my neighbor took it.
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