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Exodus Team: New Roads

By BE Bogdon

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CHAPTER ONE: FRIENDS
Proverbs 17:17
No one had called her Marjorie since her grandmother passed away. Everyone simply called her Maj. It was easier to say, current to the times, and no one really remembered that her name was Marjorie anymore.
She was named after her great-greataunt Marjorie because Aunt Marjorie was special; at least that’s what Nonna used to say. Maj hoped she was right, although the stories she heard of Aunt Marjorie were either strange or slightly off, but supposedly “she had a good heart.”
“Marjorie Newhouse?” the man repeated.
As Maj slid out from under the old Ford truck, she saw the man who had the gall to use her full name. He had short-cropped, dark brown hair and wore reflective sunglasses that obscured his eyes. He was tall and dressed in a sharp, black suit, white shirt, maroon tie, and looked like he had stepped out of a men’s clothing commercial.
One of the perks of growing up in a tight-knit community was that you knew almost everyone in town. If you didn’t know them directly, you could usually guess who they were related to in a glance. She didn’t know this guy; he definitely wasn’t from around here.
“Marjorie Newhouse?” the man asked, crossing toward her.
Maj stood to her feet, still holding the used oil filter.
“Nice place you have here; is this where you operate from? It isn’t exactly what I expected, but then again,” he seemed to be looking her over, “you aren’t exactly what I expected either.”
“I’m sorry?” Maj blinked a couple of times and backed up a step.
The man removed his sunglasses, and a smile pulled at the corners of his darkly fringed sapphire eyes.
“Jason Knight, but my friends call me Knight.” He extended his hand.
Maj switched the oil filter to her left hand and outstretched her own oil-soaked palm. “Good to know you have friends.”
As she released his hand, he grimaced, gingerly pulling the handkerchief out of his lapel pocket to wipe the oil slick off his palm.
Maj turned and threw the used oil filter into a large trashcan, then grabbed a shop rag. She had been using the Fitz-Simmons’ old barn for years now; it felt like a second home. She would work on her truck here, where her projects littered the workbenches and wiring diagrams decorated the wall like some exotic form of art. But right now, the solitary barn didn’t feel advantageous.
She quickly circled around to the driver’s side door, where the truck keys hung in sight.
“Um…Miss Newhouse? I think there may be some misunderstanding here. Didn’t Mr. Cole tell you I was coming?” the man asked, countering her movement by crossing around the front of the truck.
“Mr. Cole?” Maj opened the truck door a few inches in case he tried anything.
“Kevin Cole. He said he would be setting up the meeting.”
“Kevin Cole sent you?”
“Yes.”
“Because Kevin doesn’t usually send strangers to track me down.”
“Look, Miss Newhouse…” He was talking with his hands, actually, with the hand that still held the sunglasses, waving them around to emphasize his words. “If I weren’t in such a desperate situation, I would have left here five seconds after I walked through the door, but I was told you could help me.”
Maj opened the door of the truck and climbed into the cab.
“Here, wait!” He drew a cell phone out of his pocket and offered it through the partially open window. “Ask him yourself.”
She studied the impatient face. He was handsome, with gorgeous eyes and a nice physique—or nice suit. Under different circumstances, she might have liked looking at him.
Maj reached out to take the phone. He hesitated when he saw the oil on her palm but reluctantly lowered the phone into her hands.

Kevin Cole sat in front of the TV beside his friend Toby Plank. They both held game controllers and were immersed in a new video game.
Kevin sat on the edge of the couch wearing a bright blue T-shirt and a ripped pair of jeans. He threw his torso to the right as the beat-up monster truck on the screen careened over a hill.
“Yeah, baby! Eat dirt, Revenge!” He shook his short sandy-brown hair from his eyes and bit his lower lip.
“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Cole,” Toby muttered, his brown eyes tracking his friend’s onscreen movements. “Revenge will strike again.” His truck rumbled over a hill and down upon Kevin’s aptly named “Crusher.”
Kevin’s cell phone began to vibrate unnoticed on the end table beside him.
“Get off!” Kevin growled, grabbing a handful of Toby’s T-shirt and giving him a good-natured shove.
“Payday, my friend,” Toby laughed maliciously.
Kevin rammed the computerized orange monster truck, sending it into a nearby tree, and the gyrating phone crept closer to the edge of the table.
“What’s that?” Toby straightened the skidding vehicle in time to avoid another collision. “Revenge is hungry? Hungry for some old, flaky green paint chips from what? Oh, that dog ugly piece of junk Cole calls a monster truck?”
“Fifth lap,” the voice on the screen announced with authority.
The phone teetered up to the edge of the table, and the vibrating paused.
Kevin gritted his teeth as the two trucks spun into the turn. Toby’s “Revenge” was crowding him close to the rocks that lined the simulated dirt road.
“Lunch time!” Toby yelled as he nicked the back of Kevin’s truck. It flew into the rocks, flipping axel over fender and giving Toby the lead.
The cell phone toppled over the edge of the table, but Kevin’s hand shot out and caught it mid-air. He glanced at the screen before answering.
“Hey, Maj, what’s up?”
“What’s up, Kevin?” she asked flatly.
“Not much.” He swerved the vehicle to the right to avoid a rolling bolder. “How are you?”
“Confused. I was wondering if there was something you might have forgotten to tell me.”
“Not that I remember,” he joked.
“Do you know a Mr. Knight?” she asked, her voice teetering on impatience.
“Gosh, Maj!” Kevin stood from the couch. “I totally forgot! Is he there now?”
“Yes, thanks.” Her reply was dry and sarcastic.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He hung up and ran toward the door, still holding the game controller.
“Hey, you’re still plugged—” Toby tried to warn him, but the controller had already yanked from the socket.
“Sorry, Toby, I gotta run.” Kevin looked back over his shoulder, tripping over the end table. “I forgot I was supposed to meet Maj, and I gotta pick up Aimee.”
“No problem.” Toby laughed as Kevin blindly backed into the wall. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Maj is gonna kill me!” Kevin scraped his keys across the table as he bolted out the door.
Maj sighed. Kevin hadn’t given her a chance to ask any questions before hanging up on her.
She handed the man’s phone back through the window.
“Seems he knows something about this,” she said with a half- apologetic smile.
“I would hope so.” He backed away so Maj could exit the truck.
She saw him glance down at his wrist.
What Maj had assumed to be a metal band of jewelry was actually
an expensive watch. It was dark silver with a large square face that was turned to the inside of his wrist. She noticed because she wore hers that way to avoid dents and dings while working at the garage.
Either this was a man who appreciated understated luxury, or the watch was of sentimental value. Otherwise, why cover up something that was meant to be a status symbol?
“Um, can I get you something to drink?” she asked, leading him toward the workshop. “I have a cooler in the back room. We could wait for Kevin there, and maybe you could fill me in on some details.”
Some details? Boy, are you in the dark. She had a vague suspicion she was being laughed at. God, this isn’t funny!
Maj opened the door to her workshop and switched on the light.
The small, unfinished workroom was large enough to store all her tools and parts. There was a long, freshly sanded workbench behind the door, and the opposite wall was lined with shelves and plastic storage bins. Her cooler sat on the dusty concrete floor beside an overflowing bin of copper wiring tucked out of reach of the sunshine streaming through the window. Other than the solitary window that faced the field, an overhead light and a small desk lamp were all that lit the room.
“Is this powered by a generator?” he asked, running his fingers up the electrical cord.
“It’s solar. I rigged it myself. It’s cheaper and safer than a generator.”
He nodded.
“Are you interested in alternative energy?” she asked.
“Not particularly, but I didn’t see any electrical lines running through the wheat field.” He grinned.
Who the heck are you?
As Maj bent down to take two lemon-lime sodas out of the cooler, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a chrome-plated side mirror sitting on a low shelf. Her brown hair was disheveled, her ponytail hung loose at the nape of her neck, and there was a black smudge of grease on her olive cheek. She hastily wiped it off with the sleeve of her blue coveralls before turning and handing him the can of soda.
He thanked her, unbuttoned his suit coat, and brushed off the seat of the wooden stool that backed up against the workbench.
“You work on cars, rig up solar-powered lighting, and work on electronics,” he said, his eyes scanning the small room. “Is there anything you don’t do?”
Yeah, I don’t read minds.
“What do you mean?” She kicked the cooler lid closed with her heel.
“You’re a person of rare, if not unusual, talents. How long have you been doing this sort of thing?”
He couldn’t skirt the issue better if he was trying!
“Doing what?” she asked, cracking open the can of soda.
“Exorcisms?”
Maj suddenly found herself sitting on top of the cooler, staring hard at the floor. Had she heard him correctly?
“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
Maj glanced up at him. He genuinely looked concerned.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Knight. Honestly, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you this, but Kevin never mentioned you. I don’t have a clue what you want or what you’re talking about.”
He nodded and set the can of soda on the workbench. “I work for a property management company. We manage large properties: resorts, hotels, various office buildings…” Maj nodded.
“Over the past five years, our investments have doubled in value, thanks to some well-implemented changes. Because of the success of those ventures, the board of MPI allowed me to acquire property and turn it around using my own concepts. This is a leap of faith for them and a career-boosting opportunity for me.” He leaned forward on the stool, pressing the tips of his fingers against each other, resting his chin on top of the triangle. “Being a man who likes a challenge, I seized on a particularly problematic property. I thought turning around a failing property would create the most visible results for the board. But the problem with the property isn’t tangible; it’s superstition. The place is haunted.”
He paused, those brilliant blue eyes studying her face, as he waited for some reaction.
Maj wasn’t sure how to respond and merely nodded for him to continue.
“The hotel couldn’t keep staff members; they would all quit within a week or two. Even our guests would leave in the middle of the night. Clientele dropped off, and the hotel closed its doors about two years ago, creating a money pit for our company. With revenue flying out the window, I thought it would be the perfect location to showcase my talents, but all my tried-and-true business methods have failed.” He dropped his gaze. His lips twitching in an involuntary frown. “I was at a low point when Mr. Cole crossed my path. I was in O’Hare Airport with some business partners discussing my situation when he stopped at the end of our table and convinced me I needed to drive out here.”
From Chicago?
“This is where you come in, Miss Newhouse.” The charming smile reappeared. “As you already know from my willingness to meet with you, I’m not a man hampered by convention. Mr. Cole came directly to the point; he told me that if I was interested in turning this property around, you could help. He said he had a friend with a unique spiritual gift and that he would set up a meeting with you.” His eyes shone with eagerness and anticipation. “Well, Miss Newhouse, I’m interested.”
Maj was beginning to wonder if he expected her to pronounce some sort of incantation and send him on his way. The whole situation was overwhelming; she sat there stunned to silence, which was unusual for her.
Jesus, is this of You? she prayed.
Her answer came quickly, tumbling through her mind so fast that she could barely follow the thoughts to repeat them.
“‘There is a God in heaven who reveals secrets,’ Mr. Knight,” Maj said softly. “Right now, sitting here, I know I’m just a hometown girl from Normal, Illinois. I grew up in this sleepy, little town, but when I was very young, I was introduced to God in the person of Jesus Christ. I learned about His death and resurrection, and I began to read my Bible.”
Maj shook her head. “I’ve seen that smile before; you’re humoring me, but I don’t care. You see, I found a source of power in the pages of that ‘old-fashioned’ book—the power of God. And any gift I have comes from the love of Jesus that’s in my heart because the Bible says that the ‘Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you.’ The spiritual gift you refer to isn’t mine; it belongs to the Spirit of God.”
“You misunderstand me.” His smile broadened. “No, I appreciate your enthusiasm and honesty. Truly passionate people are few and far between, but not everyone who opens the Bible comes to such a…may I say unusual? Such an unusual conclusion.” He leaned back against the workbench. “How is it that you started exorcising spirits?”
Maj laughed to dispel her nervousness. “When I was sixteen, my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer. Although I was raised as a Christian, the diagnosis shook my little world of faith. The doctor gave her three months to live.”
“That’s a lot to handle at sixteen.”
“That’s a lot to handle at any age, but it did one thing for me; it drove me closer to God and into studying His Word. I prayed more than I had in my entire Christian life. I was fortunate to have a church to lean on and a youth group that prayed for me. That’s where I first met Kevin and Aimee; they were the ones who really helped me through. Aimee and I were in a lot of the same classes in school, and we grew close, almost like sisters.”
“And Aimee is?”
“Kevin’s older sister; he didn’t mention her?” He shook his head.
“The three of us would get together to pray for Nonna—um, my grandmother—and search the Scriptures for answers. We found scripture after scripture that taught about the healing power of God. Once we found those verses, we went to the pastor and asked him if we could pray for her healing. He said if the Bible taught it, we could do it. So, we prayed and asked God to heal her.” Maj smiled at the memory. “My grandmother lived to be eighty-five years old. She passed away from natural causes five years ago. We had nothing to do with healing her except to believe the Word that God gave over two thousand years ago.”
“That’s an interesting story, but it doesn’t quite answer my question,” he said, studying her intently.
“Then, let me ask you—is a cancer cell a normal human cell?”
“Well, no…it’s not the way the cell is supposed to be.”
“The Bible says only good things come from God. If it’s not natural and it’s not from God, it must come from another source.” He didn’t look convinced.
“We live in the natural realm, but this realm is affected by the supernatural realm,” she explained. “There are three entities operating in these realms, God, the devil, and us. If you’ve ruled out the natural and God, that only leaves one option.”
“A well-argued conclusion.” He smothered a smile.
“Once we began to pray, we began to see need everywhere. There was the struggling hardware store built on sacred burial grounds, a church that used to be a haunted castle and couldn’t keep a pastor…we saw this was a gift in our lives and that we could help people.” Maj heard a car door slam, and she stood from the cooler. “Oh, that should be Kevin.”
It had better be Kevin! she thought as she opened the workshop door. Another door slammed, and she heard a familiar female voice lecturing Kevin in a low, whispered tone. Aimee had come with him.
Relief washed over her.
“Maj?” Aimee called, appearing around the side of Maj’s truck. She was dressed in pink yoga pants, a matching headband, and carried a large duffle bag.
“How are you?” Aimee pushed her long blonde braid over her shoulder and gave Maj a quick peck on the cheek. “Is he in there?” Aimee whispered, glancing toward the workroom.
“Yeah, come on in.” Maj stepped aside to let her pass. “Did Kevin drag you from the gym?”
Kevin smiled sheepishly as he slipped between the girls and into the workroom.
Aimee rolled her eyes.
“I hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle,” Maj heard Kevin apologize.
Aimee followed him into the small room, but Maj leaned against the doorframe to watch their interaction.
“Oh, Knight, this is my sister, Aimee,” Kevin introduced his sister with a dismissive wave.
Knight stood, a delighted smile parting his lips as he introduced himself to the pretty newcomer. Aimee’s brown eyes sparkled, and a soft blush accentuated her peaches and cream complexion as they shook hands.
“Can I have some of your soda, Maj? I’m parched.” Aimee crossed to the window and picked up Maj’s can of lemon-lime.
“Sure, but there’s more in the cooler too.” Maj nodded toward it.
“This is fine.” Aimee took a sip and telegraphed her thoughts about the handsome businessman with an impressed glance.
“What do you think, Maj?” Kevin asked, opening the cooler and fishing out a cold can.
“Seeing as the details are fuzzy at best, I have no information, and somehow you seem to be all-in on this—I’m not ready to make any decisions, Kevin.” She crossed her arms.
Kevin started to protest, but Aimee interrupted.
“We’re supposed to do this, Maj.”
Maj turned to look at her friend. Aimee had unzipped her jacket and leaned her head back against the wall. Her light blonde hair was swept up into a French braid, and strands of sandy-brown highlights curled around her face. Her eyes held a look that Maj knew all too well.
As much as Maj knew her own calling, she trusted in Aimee’s. Aimee had a strong gift of discernment, and she heard the voice of the Lord clearly. Whatever concerns Maj had, they could discuss later.
Maj nodded. “We’ll work out the details.”
The three of them turned their attention to Knight.
“That’s it?” He arched his brow. “No more discussion…? Not that I’m arguing with that. Let me know your fee and—”
“Mr. Knight, there’s no fee.” Maj shook her head. “The gifts of God are free.”
“Are you serious?” His eyes traveled from one face to the next. “I have paid out thousands of dollars to psychics in the past two months, and you say you’ll do it for free?”
Maj nodded. “When it’s the real thing, Mr. Knight, it doesn’t cost anything.”
“But what about traveling expenses?”
“Traveling expenses?” Maj asked, turning to Kevin. “Where exactly is this hotel located?”
“Louisiana,” Kevin and Knight answered in unison, although Kevin’s answer was considerably weaker.
Maj glanced at Aimee. “Are you sure about this?” Aimee shrugged helplessly.
“Where in Louisiana?” Maj asked.
Knight’s phone rang. “It’s a town near Baton Rouge called New Roads. Excuse me, please.” He walked away to take the call.
“New Roads, Maj,” Aimee echoed as Kevin grinned at her. New roads.
“How soon do you think you can come?” Knight asked, rejoining them in the workroom after finishing his call. “I’m anxious to get this resolved.”
What if this is too big for us to handle? Maj glanced at Aimee. Should we warn him now? Shame on you, Maj! Do you think God set this up for you to fail?
“We have vacation planned near the end of August,” Kevin answered before anyone else could.
“The end of August,” Knight repeated as he pulled up the calendar on his phone.
“That’s our family vacation, so it’ll have to be after that,” Aimee added quickly.
“We’ll have to take time off from our jobs,” Maj gestured to Aimee, “and Kevin heads to campus the second week of September.”
Knight looked up expectantly. “I’ll make anything work.”
“We’ll talk it over between us and contact you with some dates.” Maj nodded.
“Let me know as soon as you can; that way I’ll have time to reschedule my week.”
“We’ll try for a weekend so we don’t disrupt your work too much,” Aimee suggested.
“I work all the time,” he admitted with a wry smile.
“Oh.”
“Can we exchange phone numbers? It’s easier for me to call than email.”
“You already have mine,” Kevin said eagerly.
Knight smiled as he turned toward Maj. “Marjorie Newhouse, did I spell it right?” He held up his phone.
“Actually, I go by Maj. M-A-J.”
He studied her face. “That fits you better.” She felt herself blush under his gaze.
Aimee had to spell her name for him too—the plight of having creative parents.
Once he added their numbers to his phone, he handed them each one of his business cards, pointing out his cell number on the front.
“MPI?” Kevin asked, reading the company logo aloud.
“Machlin Property Investments is the name of the company I work for.” “Oh, I thought it was mission impossible or something…” “Nothing as exciting as that, Kevin,” Knight chuckled.
Maj showed him out through the barn door, pausing in the driveway.
“I think I should apologize,” she said, looking down at the gravel. “I wasn’t very friendly when you came in this afternoon.”
“Let’s chalk it up to a comedy of errors. It seems I was fortunate to find you here at all.”
“No,” she laughed, “I spend a lot of time at the barn. Aimee and I have an apartment in town, but it’s only a few minutes away from here.” “And Kevin lives on campus?” She nodded.
“Both you and Aimee have already graduated college?”
“I’m twenty-four if that’s what you’re asking,” Maj said, shaking her long ponytail back over her shoulders. “I may look young, but I’m smart and capable, Mr. Knight. Besides, you said you were desperate, so does my age matter?”
“I’m not passing judgment, Miss Newhouse.” He smiled, leaned forward, and lowered his voice. “I’m twenty-nine myself.” Maj blushed madly and rubbed the back of her neck.
His eyes sparkled, and a playful, lopsided grin pulled at his lips. “There is one thing I need to know, though.”
Maj tried to compose herself to receive whatever curveball he had yet to throw her way.
“What’s the quickest way to get back on the highway? This car is a rental, and I think their GPS took me the long way around.” Maj laughed in relief.
“I tried to use my phone, but I lost signal several times,” he explained.
Maj took his phone and pulled up a map. She highlighted a route to the nearest highway and screenshotted it for him.
“In case you lose signal again.” She handed it back to him.
“That’s smart,” he said, admiration clear in his smile.
“You learn some things when you travel country roads.”
“Goodbye, Miss Newhouse. It was a pleasure meeting you.” He slid his reflective sunglasses onto his nose and waved to Kevin and Aimee before climbing into the black sedan.
“Louisiana, here we come!” Kevin repeated for the fifth time.
“I think he liked you, Maj.” Aimee sat on the tailgate of Maj’s silver Ford, swinging her white tennis shoes and grinning.
Maj admired Aimee in every aspect, especially for her wonderful heart; that’s what drew others to her. But she couldn’t imagine that anyone would notice her while Aimee was in the room. Aimee was gorgeous, almost six feet tall with a lithe, athletic figure, while Maj was strong and curvy and was pushing it when she claimed to be five foot four. Still, she could boast of flawless olive skin, high cheekbones, and an attractive hourglass shape thanks to her Italian heritage.
“What did you tell him about me, Kevin? He seemed to think we cast out demons for a living.”
“Only that you, Aimee, and I have had prior experience with these things.” He shrugged.
“Really? He didn’t seem to know who Aimee was.” Maj glared at him.
“When, Kev?” Aimee asked as she jumped down from the back of Maj’s truck. “When did we do something like this?”
“How about the old haunted castle at the church in Holder?”
“How does that count? It’s not outright manifestation like this will be,” Aimee sighed. “Let’s not argue; we’d better pray.” They bowed their heads.
“Father, You brought this opportunity into our lives, and You know the beginning from the end. Please tell us clearly where to start and what to do,” Aimee prayed.
“Lord, thank You for letting us be witnesses to this businessman. I pray his eyes would be open to see who You truly are,” Kevin added softly.
“Please tell us how to do this. We can’t do it without You, Jesus,” Maj concluded before they fell into silent prayer.
“Aimee,” Kevin turned to her after they had been silent for a few minutes, “God has a specific job for you. It has something to do with your past, but He’ll be with you at every step.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure what that means.”
Aimee nodded. Maj studied her face; if she was affected by what Kevin said, she didn’t show it.
Once they finished praying, Aimee threw her bag into the cab of the truck next to Maj’s worn leather rucksack.
“Are you about ready?” Aimee asked her. “Yeah, we can go.”
Aimee climbed into the passenger seat and buckled her belt as Maj slid behind the wheel.
“Are you guys coming to Mom and Dad’s for dinner tonight?” Kevin asked, leaning his lanky form against Aimee’s door.
“Seven o’clock, right?” Maj started the truck.
“Yup.”
“What’s Mom making?” Aimee asked.
“Dunno.”
“Sounds great,” Maj laughed.
Maj turned her truck out of the gravel drive and followed Kevin’s tan sedan down the rocky back road. Aimee was rattling on about some new restaurant opening in town, but Maj was barely listening. Aimee would know it too; she was used to Maj’s moments of introversion and understood that she would eventually surface back into the conversation.
“Do you think we could?” Aimee’s question broke through the fog.
“Definitely, anytime there’s food involved, I’m there,” Maj answered. “Should we invite ‘The Mouth’?”
Maj laughed at Kevin’s nickname. “It fascinates me the amount of food that boy can eat.”
In all honesty, “that boy” was pushing twenty. In three years, he would be done with college unless he went for more seminary training.
Kevin was like a brother to Maj. Being an only child, she would have otherwise missed out on the dynamics of a brother/sister relationship. Although sometimes she thought she could do without the suffering that a little brother could inflict—and she had a faint scar to remind her of it. Even then, she wouldn’t have traded Aimee and Kevin for any other brother or sister, real or imagined.
“Are we ready for this, Aimee?”
“Can we ever be ready for something like this? Honestly, I’m scared and excited at the same time. I don’t know what God’s walking us into, but I trust Him.”
“Even if you have to go back?” Maj glanced at Aimee.
Aimee’s past was something they didn’t talk about a lot.
Until she was eighteen years old, Aimee faithfully attended church and followed the Lord, but in her senior year of high school, she started dating Brad Whitler, and everything changed.
Maj disliked and distrusted Brad from day one. He wasn’t a Christian, and he had dated almost every girl in class before he got to Aimee. She had heard that Brad was moving to California at the end of the summer, and Maj counted the days, hoping the separation Brad had forced between her and Aimee would heal.
Then the blow came; Aimee’s parents were letting her go to college in California. They seemed oblivious to Aimee’s plan to follow Brad there.
When Aimee discovered that Maj and Kevin had been praying that she would change her mind, she told Maj that she would go anywhere and turn herself into anything that Brad wanted. But poor Aimee soon discovered that Brad didn’t want her at all. He left her heartbroken at an idoless altar.
The college she was attending in California offered classes on paranormal investigation, and as an act of rebellion, Aimee signed on for the course.
When she returned home after two years of college, she had changed dramatically. The darkness in her eyes brought her family and Maj to their knees. This wasn’t the Aimee they knew; this was some self-tortured version of Aimee.
It was only by the grace of God that Aimee had been restored to them.
“Don’t worry, Maj. I’m a new creation in Christ; old things have passed away,” she said lightly.
“But you heard what Kevin said about the past?”
“If the Lord is leading, I’ll be okay.” Aimee smiled. “Don’t worry about me so much!”
Maj’s grip tightened on the wheel as she stared straight ahead, avoiding Aimee’s gaze.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Making that face,” Aimee giggled.
“What face?”
“The face you always make when you think of Brad. You can’t hate him for the rest of your life.”
“God’s not done with me yet,” Maj announced.
“That’s a sad excuse; you don’t even believe what you’re saying.” Aimee rolled her eyes.
“Well, God and I will work that out.”
“Hmmm…really?”
Maj would be lying if she said there wasn’t still a part of her that hated Brad Whitler.
Mrs. Cole always had a warm, motherly smile shining in her soft blue eyes, and it was there tonight as she swept aside her short blonde hair to give Maj a peck on the cheek.
“Sit down, honey. We’re almost ready to eat.”
Dr. Cole greeted Maj with a hug before he pulled out the chair for her.
She often thought that Aimee took after him with her light brown eyes and soft-spoken manners. Kevin was blessed with his father’s chiseled jaw, but he looked more like his mother with his sandy-blonde hair and light blue eyes. He’d also inherited Mrs. Cole’s fun-loving, outgoing personality.
Dr. and Mrs. Cole were wonderful Christians and were always great sounding boards for the trio’s schemes, but the three had agreed to avoid the subject of Mr. Knight’s visit as they talked around the dinner table that evening. Maj wanted to wait until they had a firm grasp of what they were getting into before talking about it with anyone else.
Dinner had progressed quietly until Dr. Cole set his fork down and dabbed his lips with a napkin. He adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose as he turned to his son.
“Kevin, you look like you’re going to explode. What’s going on?”
Maj froze. She knew what would happen next. Kevin would panic and glance at her, oh, so obviously. Then she would be left high and dry as Aimee tried to cover for him, leaving Maj to give an explanation. She quickly circumvented the embarrassment.
“I asked him not to say anything yet, so he’s trying to keep his mouth shut, Dr. Cole.” Maj threw a false smile, complete with daggers, at Kevin. “Kevin’s not great at keeping secrets unless he forgets about them,” she said, landing another verbal jab at his expense.
“The cat’s practically out of the bag now, Maj. Can’t you tell us about it?” Mrs. Cole asked.
Maj shook her head. “Sorry, Mrs. Cole, you’ll have to torture it out of Kevin. I won’t give, but I promise we’ll tell you all about it as soon as we can.”
After dinner, Maj offered to help Mrs. Cole with the dishes, leaving Kevin under Aimee’s watchful eye.
“Maj, I want to give you something before you leave tonight. I don’t know why, but I feel that I’m supposed to give you this book.” Mrs. Cole pulled a book down from the shelf and handed it to her.
“The Power of Effectual Fervent Prayer,” Maj read aloud. “Thanks, Mrs. C! I’ll read this in no time.”
“Keep it. It’s yours.”
“Really? Thanks!”
“How’s the solar panel working out in the barn?”
“Like a dream! I’ve wired the back room, and I’m planning to run lines into the barn itself. It will be nice to finally be able to work on the truck after dark.”
“I don’t know if you should be out in that field alone after dark, Maj.”
“Okay, Mrs. C.” Maj smiled. It was nice to have someone who cared enough to worry about her. Now that Nonna was gone, she clung to every bit of love Dr. and Mrs. Cole lavished on her.
When they had finished the dishes, Maj took the book Mrs. Cole gave her and tucked it into the pocket of her rucksack.
The brown leather bag consisted of one spacious pocket with two latching straps, two smaller side pockets that held her phone and sunglasses, and a front compartment that laced closed through holes sliced into the soft leather. On the back were two thick, adjustable straps. Although it doubled as a backpack, she usually wore it slung over one shoulder unless she was carrying something heavy or bulky.
It was soft, weathered, faded, and looked as if it could have been used as a saddle bag by the Pony Express. It had belonged to her grandfather, and Maj liked to imagine that it had its own mysterious history.
She walked back into the living room to see that the game board was laid out for Bible Trivia. Kevin and Aimee had already started their usual argument on how to pronounce Habakkuk, but Maj was convinced that Kevin slaughtered the word just to make Aimee mad.
After Dr. and Mrs. Cole had schooled Aimee, Kevin, and Maj in trivia, the girls drove back to their apartment. As soon as they arrived, Maj hid herself away in her room to journal.
Maj’s room was decorated simply. She kept the original tan paint to match the rest of the apartment and brought in Nonna’s old brown desk and her own twin bed with matching dresser. Aimee had given her the heavy gray comforter with white borders (which Maj insisted on calling racing stripes) to blanket the bed. It came with a few matching pillows that were lost somewhere under the dresser or behind the solitary overstuffed chair.
Her journal sat on the desk. She flipped it open and penned in the date. After staring at the date for a few minutes, she slowly closed the journal. What had happened today?
She looked into the mirror that hung over her desk, searching her brown eyes for answers. Nothing was clear yet. She decided to sleep on it and write when her head wasn’t as foggy.
She took a tissue, wiped her olive skin, and brushed her long brown hair before climbing into bed. She could hear Aimee’s voice through the thin wall that divided their room. She must have been talking to her boyfriend, Adam.
Maj glanced at the alarm clock by her bedside. The glowing green numbers told her it wasn’t even ten thirty. She sighed heavily and ruffled her wavy mass of hair.
“Okay, not sleepy.”
It was Friday night, and her body knew it. It wasn’t time for bed yet; it was time to read a book or veg out in front of the TV.
The latter sounded like a better option.
She stuffed her feet into her fuzzy, canary-yellow slippers and shuffled down the hall in her pajama pants and tank top. She curled up on the love seat, one of the few seats in the living room of their small apartment.
Nineteen nineteen Meadowlark Drive, apartment B9, had been her home for almost three years now. Shortly after Aimee moved back to Normal, she and Maj decided they would rent a place together. Aimee had fallen in love with the newly built brown and white Tudor style apartment buildings and put their name on the waiting list for a two-bedroom apartment.
It was a typical sterile apartment until Aimee got her hands on it. When the girls moved in, the Coles supplied Aimee with a budget for decorating, and Maj was happy to let her do it. The only furniture Maj contributed was the few pieces she had brought from Nonna’s house.
Now, when she walked into the apartment, she entered a homey space that Aimee had created with carefully arranged furniture and decor.
Nonna’s old sewing table had a prominent place in the entryway. It held a vase of silk flowers and a small wooden tray for their mail and keys. A decorative mirror hung above it. Beyond this, a distressed wood panel with white coat hooks hung on the wall; that way their wet coats would drip onto the tile floor instead of the carpet, Aimee said.
The white floor tile ran into the open kitchen, stopping short of the carpeted hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. A spacious stainless-steel refrigerator backed up against the wall leading to the front entryway, and the matching stove sat directly across it.
The kitchen cupboards were white and capped with faux granite counters accented with silver drawer pulls. A matching island separated the tiled kitchen from a living room carpeted in beige.
Aimee had painted the dining table white and nestled four mismatched wooden chairs around it. It stood on the carpet against the right wall of the living room. In the middle of this room (in addition to the periwinkle love seat) sat a small end table with a lamp, an oval coffee table, and one overstuffed chair angled toward the TV, which was mounted above a gas fireplace on the windowless wall.
The one regret Maj had about the room’s design was that she should have insisted that Aimee buy a couch instead of the petite love seat. But tonight, she was content to curl up with an overly ruffled decorative pillow and the channel changer.
Maj started an old black-and-white movie, her go-to binge-watching genre. The film she had picked was on the slow side, and she was having trouble following the plot, even though these old movies usually ended the same—boy gets girl. Her eyes grew heavy, and she laid her head on the arm of the love seat.
The next thing she knew, Aimee was standing in front of her wearing a shirt she didn’t recognize. It was black and had a large white rectangle in the center with “EXODUS” emblazoned across it in red letters.
“Who were you talking to on the phone?” Maj asked.
“The university wants our statistics on the last site. Are you done with those?”
“Yes,” Maj heard herself answer. She was sitting behind a large wooden desk holding a file folder open in her lap while looking at a strange graph.
“See this graph?” Aimee sat on a roller chair beside her, pointing to the lines on the page. “This is the printout from the reading in the area at that time. This page shows the room that we were in, and this shows the time that we turned on the infrared thermometer.” She tapped the lowest line on the chart. “And this is when we started to pray.” Maj nodded and took the papers.
Kevin entered the room with Mr. Knight close behind him. Kevin was wearing a black baseball cap, and he tossed one at Maj. She caught it and ran her fingers over the embroidered letters of the word “EXODUS.”
“These are nice,” Knight commented, sitting in a chair across from the desk. He turned the hat over in his hands as if unsure of what to do with a baseball cap, but he seemed pleased to have it; somehow, it meant a lot to him.
Kevin plopped down onto the edge of the desk and picked up a paperclip holder. It was warped and twisted as if it had been melted. He tossed it back and forth in his hands as he spoke, “We’ve had multiple hits on the website and a few calls off the sign on the SUV.”
“I put background info on some new cases in your bin, Maj,” Aimee added. “And the college is requesting all readings from the Louisiana trip.”
“Oh, they called me,” Knight interjected. “They wanted to know if some students could shadow on the next trip.” “What did you tell them?” Maj asked.
“That the field was too dangerous and unpredictable.” He shook his head. “That they could interview any of you or review select cases, but anything more was out of the question.”
“That was the perfect answer.” Maj felt warmth spread through her chest as she smiled at him.
“Here’s that copy of the mission statement that I took for the magazine article.”
Maj took the quartered piece of white paper from him and unfolded it.
Maj’s head slipped off her hand, and she woke with a start. The movie was over, and another one was well on its way to happily ever after.
Still half asleep, she had the presence of mind to look for some paper and a pen. She found a pen, but the only paper she had was the back page of the book Mrs. Cole had given her. She quickly scribbled down everything she could remember from her dream.
When she finished, she hurried to her room and pulled out some colored pencils to sketch the design she had seen on Aimee’s shirt. She studied it for a while before her eyelids grew heavy, and she crawled into bed and turned off the light.

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