When Darkness Comes

by W. Franklin Lattimore

  “Jenna said you’re experiencing dizziness, too.” He sat down on the edge of the oak coffee table.

  “She worries too much. I’m fine.”

  “This just struck you out of the blue this morning?”

  She glanced up at him with a look that said he wasn’t going to like her answer.

  “Out with it.”

  “It’s the same headache that I’ve had for the past few days, only this morning I also threw up. I felt really wobbly coming down the stairs, too.”

  A thought that apparently struck Tara with the force of a freight train, caused her to sit bolt upright. Brent watched as she squeezed her eyelids together, apparently weathering another wave of dizziness. Opening them again and focusing on her husband, she said with no small amount of alarm, “I’m pregnant!”

  “What?!” Brent could hardly believe what came out of her mouth. He said the word again, with no better grasp on the situation. “What?!”

  “What else can it be? My body’s acting weird, I’m throwing up in the morning, and I’ve got this persistent headache that’s telling me that something’s going on in me that’s out of the ordinary. It all fits!”

  Brent stood up and walked a couple of paces, then turned around. “Pregnant?” They were too old for this! He walked back over to Tara and sat down again.

  Both were quiet for a couple of minutes while they digested the possibility.

  Brent went through everything in his mind. Of course it was possible. They weren’t that old. But something wasn’t sitting right. The timing? Something about how she described what she was feeling?

  “Tara, what day did the headache begin?”

  Tara thought back. “Monday. Remember? I asked you to get me some pain relievers.”

  Brent’s eyes got bigger with realization.

  “Sweetheart, your headache began after your phone conversation with Karen. Right after we dove into this spiritual warfare stuff with both feet. I doubt that it’s a coincidence that you started feeling bad right after we started getting some answers about the significance of your tattoo.”

  “Okay?”

  “Let’s try something.” Brent got up and pushed the coffee table further from the couch, then he got down on his knees beside his wife and encouraged her to lay back down. Then he laid his right hand on her forehead and his left on her abdomen.

  Closing his eyes, Brent began to pray. “Father, I come to you in the name of Jesus, on behalf of my wife, Tara. We love you and praise you for who you are and what you want to do in our lives. Right now I feel as though my wife is under attack from the Enemy. I ask, Father, that you put a hedge of protection around her—around us. I plead the blood of Jesus over our situation. In the name of Jesus I bind any spirit that is messing with Tara, causing dizziness, nausea, and pain. I cast you aside, by the authority I have in Jesus Christ.

  “Father, again I ask for your protection. Extend it over my whole family while we deal with this darkness that is looming over our local communities. In the name of Jesus I pray. Amen.”

  Tara began to blink. Brent watched as a haze seemed to evaporate from her eyes.

  “Wow,” she began. “Okay. I’m impressed.” She took in a deep breath and let it out. “Nausea is gone.”

  Brent helped her sit up, though it now appeared that she didn’t need his assistance.

  Tara sat and appeared to be mentally gauging her situation. Then she stood up, and again evaluated how she felt.

  “Have I ever told you that you’re my hero?”

  Brent smiled and drew her close.

  “Ouch! My side!”

  Brent pulled back to see her hand grab the right side of her belly. Oh no, he thought.

  Looking Brent dead in the eyes, Tara asked, “Do you really need all of that stuff on your belt, or is it just to make you look impressive?”

  Brent’s heart restarted. He shook his head with a laugh.13

  2:19 P.M.

  STEPHANIE FOUND DAVID in the field cleaning up the area around MacKay Hill. As she approached, he looked up, and she saw a look on his face that she couldn’t readily discern. David put down a trash bag in which he’d been placing the littered aftermath of the celebration feast.

  Walking toward her, he said, “Hi, Stephanie.”

  “David.”

  “Well, it seems that we still find ourselves on the outside of Brendan’s good graces.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “No. His truck’s been gone all morning; at least since I got here at about nine.”

  “He didn’t sleep here last night.”

  David looked toward the driveway, as if to find an answer sitting on it. “Don’t know where he could be. But, you can bet that he’s not here today because of us.”

  Stephanie crossed her arms and looked at the ground. “We need to do something. I just don’t know what. We can’t go on like this, attempting to avoid what he believes to be our fault.” She looked up to see David nodding, still looking at the driveway.

  “Tell me what Donna said about Tara,” Stephanie directed.

  “You already know what I know.”

  “It wasn’t a request, David.”

  David put his hands on his hips and looked into her eyes. She could tell that he was trying to muster some sort of masculine resistance, but she just stared unflinchingly into his eyes until he relented. It only took a few seconds.

  “Donna met Tara at a grocery store. They talked briefly about a triskele tattoo that she saw on her right shoulder blade.”

  Did she copy mine somehow? she wondered.

  “Later Tara invited her to her family’s home for dinner…”

  “For information, more likely. Go on.”

  “She’s married to a Millsville cop. Their daughter ate dinner with them. That’s all I know.”

  “Your sister didn’t give any descriptions of what Tara looked like?”

  Stephanie could see that David thought it an odd question. After all, who just volunteers another person’s vital statistics while sitting down over dinner?

  “No, not a word was mentioned about the way she looked.”

  “Call her.”

  “Call … Donna?”

  Stephanie nodded. “Casual conversation. Ask about her new friends.”

  David pulled out his cell phone and called his sister. “Hey, Sis. How’s your day going? Are you with a client right now?”

  Pause.

  “Good. So, tell me, how was your dinner with your new friends? Interesting people?”

  Long pause.

  “They sound great. You’ll have to introduce me sometime. Wait a minute… Tara?”

  Pause.

  “Well, I’m just trying to remember. Tara in Millsville. Hey! Does she have short dark hair?”

  Pause.

  “Oh well. Not who I thought it was. So, what did you all talk about?”

  Long pause.

  “Hey, Donna? I’ve got another call coming in. Can we talk more later? Good! Bye!”

  David’s face was grim. “This Tara has strawberry-blonde hair.”

  It is her!

  “And there was a lot of unfortunate conversation.” He sighed knowing he had to lay everything on the table.

  “They talked about our trip to Scotland. They talked about what little she knew about the gathering and about ‘all the nice people’ she had met.”

  David paused.

  Stephanie identified it as hesitation. “Continue.”

  “And … she said it was a ‘fun coincidence’ that Tara’s husband, Brent, knew the Pittston Police Chief.”

  Stephanie remained stoic. She looked him in the eyes and said simply, “Thank you, David.” She turned on her heals and walked back to the house. Under her breath she muttered, “It’s time for a little reunion, isn’t it, Tara Baker?”

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Stephanie walked into the Millsville Public Library. She asked the librarian at the main counter where she might be able find old wedding announcements an
d obituaries so that she could do some research on family genealogy. She was led to a computer room where three of the machines had been tied directly to the library server which housed all of the city’s old newspapers, historical documents, and public residential records. She could have use of one of the computers for one hour. There were no printers in the room and no Internet access, so any information that she needed would have to be written on paper.

  Not knowing when Tara got married, or where, Stephanie thought she might turn up little or nothing. None of the scanned newspapers could be word searched by the computer, since they were really just scanned into the system as photos.

  After about twenty minutes she developed a system for combing through the newspapers more rapidly. Thirty-five minutes later she was rewarded with what she’d hoped to find.

  Lawton-Baker Wedding

  Mr. and Mrs. Keith Lawton of Millsville, OH are very proud to announce the wedding nuptials of their son, Mr. Brent Nathaniel Lawton to Miss Tara Darlene Baker of Branson, MO. The ceremony will take place on Saturday, August 29, 1992 at 1:00 PM at Forest Acres Community Chapel in Bedford, OH.

  “Bingo!” she said with a smile. “So, your last name is Lawton, now.” Looking at her watch she found that she still had a few minutes remaining to browse the residential records. Maybe she could find a property listing with an address.

  Seven minutes later she was rewarded with the property valuation of the Lawton home back in 1996 and scored the address.

  Stephanie scribbled all of the pertinent information into the small notebook that she had brought into the library with her, then closed it. The little black book had just been transformed into a treasure trove of revenge.

  Tara sat on the couch in the family room looking at the list that Brent, Jenna, and she had compiled after talking with Donna. There was one glaring omission. Though her name had never been brought up in conversation, everything on the list, especially the city in which all of this was taking place, shouted the name of her former mentor.

  “Stephanie,” she whispered.

  Could she really be involved in all of this? Of course she could. Good grief, the very last conversation that the two of them ever had spelled it out plainly enough. Stephanie’s words had been seared into her brain. It had been her fuel to destroy Brent’s and Marta’s Christian walks back in 1987.

  “Wait!” a much-younger Tara had said in desperation. “Please wait. I can do it. I can do whatever it is you and the others want! I was the most advanced and well-practiced in my coven.”

  “Coven? That wasn’t a coven, little girl. That, too, was a test. A qualifier. Trust me, you have no idea what a true coven is. Anything and everything you’ve ever done is little more than child’s play. You are a danger to everything that I—that we— are working to accomplish. I want you out of my house and out of my life.”

  Until now, Tara would have thought that what they were “working to accomplish” would have been long over with. Just how big was this thing that they had built? How far did this reimagined religion reach if it took all these years to bring about?

  A thought struck her. And she knew herself well enough to know that she wouldn’t be rid of it if she didn’t check things out.

  She looked at the wall clock. A little after four o’clock. Brent will be home any minute. If I’m going to do this, I’d better get out of here before he pulls in the driveway.

  “Jenna?” she called out as she walked through the kitchen into the living room.

  “Yeah, Mom?” Jenna appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “I’ve got to run a quick errand. Jamie’s in the back yard and Amy’s asleep in the chair in the family room. Your dad will be home any time now. Will you watch them until he gets home? And, when I mean watch them, I don’t mean go back into your room.”

  Tara heard a huff, then “Yes, Mom.”

  “Thank you, lovely daughter of mine.”

  “Whatever.”

  Tara began to walk toward the front door and put on her shoes when Jenna came traipsing down the stairs.

  “Umm … Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “Where are you going?” Jenna’s voice indicated that she knew something was up.

  “I told you.”

  “No, you said ‘errand.’ You never say errand. You’re going to go do something that you don’t want Dad or me to know about. Aren’t you?”

  Tara stared at her way-too-perceptive daughter for a moment, then said, “I’ll be back soon,” and walked out the door.

  Stephanie turned onto the Lawton’s street. She began looking at the mailboxes for the right street number when she saw a blue minivan pull out of a driveway a couple houses down. As the two vehicles drove past each other, Stephanie’s heart skipped a beat. It was Tara!

  To make absolutely sure, she went to look at the number on the mailbox. The address matched.

  She quickly turned her white Toyota Pathfinder around in the driveway and began to tail the minivan from a safe distance.

  She hoped it was safe, anyway. She had never done this before.

  TARA DROVE THROUGH Pittston, looking for the right street to turn down. She was depending on twenty three year old memories to direct her path. The village had changed and she couldn’t be sure of anything.

  Then she came across a welcome sight. The gazebo! She had forgotten that she used to use it as her landmark for getting to Stephanie’s house. Turning left onto Greenwich Street, she remembered easily the remainder of the way.

  “SHE’S HEADING TO my old house,” Stephanie said to herself. Amazed almost beyond comprehension, she acknowledged her goddess. “Cailleach, if you arranged this, you’re even more powerful than I thought!”

  TARA APPROACHED THE house that she had once shared with Stephanie. Reaching it, she stopped her car on the street and stared at the old home to her left. She wasn’t sure that was a wise thing to do, but she wasn’t going to leave without at least knowing if the woman still lived here.

  She was about to exit the van when she noticed the name on the mailbox: BABCOCK, in silver-traced black letters. A wave of disappointment hit her. She knew it had been a long shot, but still…

  She heard a car door close behind her. Looking into her sideview mirror, she saw a woman approaching her car.

  “Oh God,” she whispered, both an exclamation and a prayer.

  “Why, hello, Tara,” the older woman said as she approached Tara’s open window. “Imagine meeting you here, of all places.”

  Stephanie was still an attractive woman. Still blonde, though it appeared that it now came out of a bottle to hide some gray that was now peeking through. And she still had a presence that shook her confidence.

  “Hello, Stephanie,” she managed.

  “Just thought you’d take a drive through the old neighborhood? Reminiscing maybe?”

  Tara had the sudden realization that if Stephanie no longer lived on this street, she had been followed.

  “I could ask the same of you, since you don’t live here any longer.”

  Stephanie smiled. “I guess it’s plain to see that I followed you. And what timing!” She looked at her watch. “I just discovered where you lived not twenty minutes ago.”

  “What do you want?” Tara was already wanting to end the conversation, shift her car into drive, and get back home. But, what good would that do? The woman now knew where her family lived.

  “I hear that you’ve gained an interest in what’s going on in this sleepy little village.”

  “Have I?”

  Stephanie smiled again. “You’re no longer the little girl that I taught so long ago. You’re not spooking so easily. Good for you. So, what brings you to my former home today? Do you want to restart your training?”

  That struck Tara as funny, so she laughed. “Stephanie, I’ve been desirous of a conversation with you for years.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, but I realize now that it was for my own personal vindication. I wanted to rub
your face into the fact that you failed to destroy me. That despite how you shunned me and wanted my failure in life, I had come back as a better person.”

  “Now, now, Tara. Just because you’ve got the house with the picket fence, the doggie, and the 2.5 kids doesn’t mean that your life is better. In fact, it sounds pretty umm… Now what’s the word I’m looking for? Ah, yes … dormant. I could have given you a life of purpose; of accomplishment. Hell,” she said with a grin, “I could have given you that power that you always wanted. Still can.”

  Realization settled into Tara’s mind. She doesn’t know that I’m a Christian. An idea formed in her mind.

  “Steph, are you hungry? I’m famished.”

  The question obviously took Stephanie by surprise.

  “Have you ever eaten at Dekker’s on the village square?” Tara asked.

  Reluctantly, Stephanie answered. “Yes. And I must say that I adore the place.”

  “Shall we?”

  With that, two unlikely dinner companions departed for the restaurant, but not before Tara sent a quick text message to Brent:

  Dinr w/Steph. Dekkrs on sqr. I’m ok.

  “JENNA, WILL YOU come in here, honey?”

  She walked into the living room while Brent held his phone before him.

  “Yes, Daddy?” she asked with a genuine smile on her face.

  Normally this would have easily stolen from him the smile that she was seeking. But it wouldn’t happen this time.

  “Did your mom say anything to you about where she was going?”

  “Oh, you mean like going out to do ‘errands’?” she replied, making quotation marks in the air with her fingers.

  “So, you didn’t buy that, huh?”

  “You raised a smart daughter. Must be the cop in you spilling out onto me.”

  “Well, you and I need to pray. Where are the others?”