Stone of Truth by Donna J. Farris


  Chapter 6 -Defending truth

  “Papa, look at what have they done with Your love?” declared the Proclaimers?

  Heaven’s voice declared, “These are rebellious people, children who will not hear the law of the LORD. They say to My Seers and to My Prophets, ‘Do not see clearly. Do not prophecy to us those things which are right. Speak to us of pleasant things; soothing things. Prophecy to us deceitful words. Remove the Holy One of Israel from among us. Then stand back as we decree our own destiny; for we will not have that Man rule over us!’”

  “But will they rediscover the gift before it’s too late?” wondered the heavenly host.

  “You have finished your proclamation. The Living Word was given before the foundation of their world was laid. Each must hear. Each must now choose,” was heaven’s final word.

  The entire front page of the Friday morning Press was dedicated to the unfolding local drama. In addition to images showing the entrance to Plymouth Elementary School and children on the merry-go-round, an extra-large headliner read “Authorities begin criminal investigation against Plymouth Teacher, Trinity Woodard.”

  The article went on to say, “Students come forward with stories of physical abuse in the classroom. Miss Woodard refused to speak to reporters stating her right to privacy and an impartial hearing. The Press acknowledges that as an American citizen Miss Woodard certainly has First Amendment rights. But as one angry Plymouth parent put it, ‘No teacher in this country has the right to deny food and water to a child in the name of their god.’”

  Trinity was stunned. She could not believe what she had just read. Lost in thought, she mindlessly folded the newspaper and set it back on the coffee table in the living room. Walking into the kitchen for another cup of morning coffee she heard the front door bell.

  “Grandpa Eddie! Grandma Rose!” exclaimed a surprised Trin.

  Quickly ushering her grandparents out of the cold morning air and into the living room where she was already enjoying a cozy fire in the fire place, Trin said, “It is so good to see you both!”

  “Honey, we could not believe the headlines in the morning Press,” Grandma Rose stated adamantly. “We were shocked! Your grandfather and I came straight here as soon as we realized what Victor was allowing that awful woman to say about you.”

  “It’s the lies, Grandma, the malicious lies are what hurt the most,” Trinity said sadly. “No one from the Press ever contacted me. All that ‘unavailable for comment’ stuff is a total fabrication. I got up early this morning to prepare for the meeting. Instead, I just can’t stop thinking about how big this whole thing has become. And I can’t help but wonder how many other public school teachers are facing similar challenges.

  “It’s like our whole country has forgotten what made us the wealthiest, most prosperous nation in the whole world. We were blessed by God because people knew they were connected to something bigger than themselves. Our ancestors understood they were connected to the community of humankind. We were not alone. And they understood that because of that connection, what one did affected the other.

  “Our founding fathers believed that true freedom existed only as each member saw themselves as part of such a community. People did not march in the streets demanding their right to do ‘whatever I want.’ Instead, they spoke of duty to God and duty to their neighbors. They spoke about how they could help their fellow man and encourage one another to pursue those things which are honorable and good in the sight of all men.

  “Grandpa, I think that maybe part of the reason God is allowing the hearing this afternoon is to remind people like the Simpsons of their historical roots. They are educated, intelligent adults. I’m hoping that’s all it will take to bring them back to some kind of moral reason.

  “Sweetie, you know as well as I, it may not be that simple,” Grandpa Eddie gently reminded his precious granddaughter.

  “I know, but if not...if not...” Trinity started to say.

  But Grandma Rose finished her youngest granddaughter’s sentence by reaching over and putting her arm around Trinity and declaring, “If not, you can come live with us!”

  As the threesome laughed and hugged each other, Trinity silently thanked God for Grandma Rose. No matter what the trial or temptation, she always had a way of lifting troubled hearts with her humor, her wisdom and her unfailing love.

  Unprecedented early fall storms had caused massive power outages from California to New York state. Yet despite random, intermittent electrical connections, Facebook notifications, text messages and email prayer alerts were received coast-to-coast. And even though there were occasionally conflicting details regarding times and locations, saints across America gathered in homes and churches to do spiritual battle for the destruction of demonic principalities and powers in high places at the forefront of this attack. Ardent, humble prayers continually rose to heaven like Fourth of July fireworks.

  Papa heard the intercession of His Beloved.

  By Friday afternoon, the whole town of Plymouth was buzzing with newspaper reporters, TV camera crews and crowds of protestors. The small mid-western community had never seen so much activity. One group of protestors marched all morning up and down Main Street past City Hall carrying signs stating, “Wrong is the new right.”

  Outside the front of Plymouth Press along Constitution Avenue picketers walked in circles chanting, “Truth is dead! We are the gods of the new world.”

  In Lincoln Park across the street from Plymouth Elementary, a small group of young men and women waved signs and danced peacefully singing, “Imagine there’s no heaven. Imagine there’s no god. Imagine there’s no religion. What a wonderful world it would be!”

  Not known by most of the local residents was the fact that Charter Airways had secretly flown in a group of paid political protestors from the state capital earlier in the day. They had been hired for one purpose and one purpose only: to cause confusion, chaos and property damage in and around the elementary school, and to make sure their actions made headlines Friday evening in papers across the country.

  About noon, the group began lining the streets along the southwest corner of the property near the playground carrying signs which read, “Kids need science, not god.” Other signs had a big red line painted over the word “god” with the statement, “Expel god” printed underneath.

  In response to the requests of several concerned citizens, including Principal Truman, Superintendent Mitchell and Representative Anthony Gotelle, Plymouth Police dispatched four squad cars and eight officers to the school. In addition, Sheboygan County Sheriff’s Department had been put on full alert in case the demonstrations turned violent.

  Plymouth was not the only newsworthy location in the state. Protestors had also gathered in front of the County Board of Education building in the cities of Sheboygan, Green Bay and Milwaukee. A handful of protestors had even camped out on the steps of the state capital in Madison Thursday night, displaying signs which read, “We demand legislation to remove Christian teachers from public classrooms.”

  Trinity’s parents arrived at her home in Meadow Glory around 2:15 pm to escort her to the meeting. Pastor Jamison called earlier to say he would meet them inside the gym. As Trin was putting on her coat to leave the house, the phone rang again.

  “We really need to get going, Trin,” her father said. “Maybe you should let it go to voice mail.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I think I should answer it. I’ll be quick.” Trin assured him.

  Picking up the phone with her right hand while her father put her left arm into the sleeve of her coat, Trinity hastily said, “Hello.”

  Trin listened to the caller while her father positioned her raincoat snuggly around her shoulders. A moment later she said, “Who is this?”

  Her parents stood quietly and waited as they began to sense the serious nature of the call. Trinity intently listened to what the person on the other end of the phone had to say. After a few moments she quietly replied,

  “Yes
sir, I understand...I will sir. Thank you for taking the time to call. God bless you too.”

  Wide-eyed, Trinity slowly hung up the phone. Looking at her parents, who by this time were dying to find out who had made such an impact on their daughter, the tender teacher said,

  “That was someone from Washington DC. They would not identify themselves by name, but it was a man. He wanted me to know there were many people in high places praying for this hearing. He encouraged me to be bold in defending absolute truth and leave the rest to God. Boy, earlier this morning when I told Grandpa Eddie I knew this was about more than one teacher, I had no idea how right I was. Let’s go. I do not want to be late!”

  Eli and Jasmine flew close to the ground on either side of the four-door sedan as Mr. Woodard drove into town. Winged Healers also accompanied the vehicle maintaining formation in front of and behind the automobile. If the passengers could have seen into the realm of the supernatural, they would have seen the outline of a dozen heavenly unicorns flying overhead engulfed in a radiant cloud of living light. As it was, the humans sat comfortably and enjoyed the beauty of the autumn leaves.

  Superintendent Cameron Mitchell was just putting some file folders in his briefcase when his cell phone rang. Laura Van Husen’s name flashed across the LCD screen. Answering the call, Cameron said,

  “Hi Laura. I’m just now running out the door to the hearing. What’s up?”

  “Well hello there handsome! I just wanted you to know I will be thinking positive thoughts for the success of your hearing today. I know your strong commitment to quality education and that you will do everything in your power to protect the best interests of those kids.

  “Will I see you tonight at the Random River Golf Course? Please tell me you remembered that the Fund Raising Gala was tonight. Daddy’s counting on your support to be elected as this state’s next governor you know. And besides I was hoping to steal you away from all the reporters, who are bound to show up, for some… you know, one-on-one time. Just you and me…if you get my drift. And I can’t wait to hear how you put that Woodard woman in her place. You have such clear thinking in matters like these and really know how to stick to your convictions. But then again, you always seem to know what’s best in every situation. Daddy says this country needs more men like you. Can I send the car around for you about 6 pm?”

  “Honestly Laura, the way this day is shaping up, I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it. I’ll check back with you after the hearing. Yeah. You too. Talk with you later. Ok. Bye.”

  As Cameron put his phone back in his briefcase, he couldn’t help wondering if he really wanted a long-term relationship with Laura. She was well-educated, fun to be around, and certainly beautiful. Her family was one of the oldest in the state of Wisconsin, as well as one of the richest. The family owned most of Plymouth, a fact Laura proudly reminded him of as often as possible. And being an only child, she was the sole heiress to the vast wealth of the Van Husen estate. Her future husband would be a wealthy man indeed.

  Cameron had known the family for years, but had only been dating Laura for about a year and a half. In recent months however, Cameron began seeing a side of Laura he found quite unsettling. He was becoming aware of a shallowness of character he had not seen before. Too often, Laura came across as a spoiled, self-centered young woman whose only real goal in life was, as she put it one night, “To be in the right place, at the right time, wearing the right clothes so I can meet the right kind of people.” More and more, her expressions of affection towards him seemed insincere and self-serving. And of particular concern was the way Laura had begun to pressure him to support her father’s political ambitions.

  Cameron buckled his seatbelt, pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the gym at Plymouth Elementary School. Waiting for the traffic light to turn red, he found his mind wandering to thoughts about Trinity Woodard.

  “Talk about opposites!” he mused.

  He began to realize how much he truly admired and respected the “Tender Teacher.” Without a doubt, she was an amazingly gifted educator. Students adored her. Parents loved her approach to developing good moral character in their children. And she had certainly been an asset to the community of Plymouth for years. But watching her take such a bold stand against the “Madison Machine” was truly inspirational.

  “Few dare to defy that group,” Cameron said out loud. “Courage like hers is rarely seen in this country. How could anyone not respect such a woman?”

  He briefly allowed the daydream to continue as he considered the possibilities. A few seconds later he blurted out,

  “Yeah right, Cameron! Like she would jump up and down at the possibility of dating the guy who just ruined her career forever.”

  The light turned green and Cameron was forced to shelf his daydreams for the time being. Duty called. And he knew if he was to be the professional leader his position required, he would have to remain impartial during the upcoming proceedings. He was ready and resolutely set his sights on completing the task at hand.

  About 2:30 the group of paid protestors turned, what had been, a law-abiding demonstration near the school into a riot. More than thirty people suddenly began running down the street towards the main entrance of the gym. Stopping at the bottom of the concrete steps, attempting to prevent anyone from entering or exiting the facility, they repeatedly chanted. “Freedom from religion! When do we want it? Now!”

  Leading the mob was a young man with a bullhorn who kept shouting the same rhythmic chant. Several of the men left the group and began waving signs and chanting in the middle of the street. Busy after-school traffic was disrupted as frightened parents trying to pick up their children were rerouted to the other side of the school where, they were told, their children were safely waiting.

  Reporters had been prohibited from entering the school gym. But like hungry vultures, they camped on the sidewalk at the foot of the stairs, not only capturing footage of the protestors, but watching and waiting for the arrival of the now infamous elementary school teacher.

  Kurt Yandel had warned the Woodard family that they may encounter protestors upon entering the building. But no one was prepared for the mob they actually faced as Trin’s dad pulled up to the sidewalk and parked the car near the gym entrance. Local law enforcement had only moments earlier managed to move the street protestors back onto the sidewalk and contain the rest of the mob a short distance south of the building.

  But once the group saw Trinity and her parents getting out of the car, several of men broke through the police blockade and ran towards the Woodard family. Waving their hands and trying to prevent her from walking up the stairs, the men began screaming foul words just inches from Trinity’s face. Mr. Woodard tried to block the men from reaching his daughter, but was shoved to the ground by several members of the now violent mob.

  Waiting at the top of the stairs, Yandel saw what was happening and ran down the stairs to help his clients. Officers rushed in to assist Trin’s father and to protect the entire family from further assaults. Creating a tight circle around the Woodard’s, Yandel and the police quickly escorted the family up the stairs and into the safety of the gym.

  With cameras and microphones in hand, two reporters tried to follow the family up the steps and into the gym. But the force of the mob shoved the reporters to the side of the building, causing one of the cameramen to drop his video-recording unit. The rest of the media were content to stay out of harm’s way, while frantically still trying to capture the mayhem on video in time for their respective evening news reports.

  Yandel had just closed the heavy double doors behind the family when a protestor threw a rock towards Trinity. It shattered one of the glass panes sending pieces of broken glass everywhere along the tile floor in the hallway. The rock just missed Trinity’s head. But Mr. Woodard’s right hand was cut by a piece of flying glass as he was trying to shield his daughter. One of the police officers immediately ushered the family further down the hall and into one o
f the interior administrative offices. Minutes later the school nurse arrived to tend to Mr. Woodard’s bleeding hand. Everyone was relieved to learn it was only a surface wound.

  On the sidewalk outside, pandemonium erupted. The Channel 10 TV camera man who had just recovered his video-recorder managed to capture footage of an unidentified man setting fire to one of the protestor’s signs which read, “Parent’s United For a God-Free Society.”

  Moments later, three garbage dumpsters on the east side of the gym exploded into flames. Protestors began smashing the windshields of cars parked along both sides of the street. Others began throwing rocks at the classrooms in the primary education wing.

  Within minutes, county sheriffs were on the scene to assist local law enforcement in securing the situation. By the time officers had apprehended the most violent offenders and successfully dispersed the rest of the mob, the exterior gym walls had been defaced with black paint and all the windows of Mr. Woodard’s sedan had been smashed. Sheriffs took the criminals to the county jail, while Plymouth Police remained on site ready to dispel any further disruptive actions.

  During the riot outside, spectators already seated in the gym were told to stay in their seats and not leave the building. So it took Pastor Jamison a few moments to discover where the Woodards were being held and to convince the police to let him join the family inside the Admin office.

  Upon entering the well-guarded room he hugged Trinity and said with a heavy sigh, “Thank God you are all safe! I knew you would be concerned, so I just spoke to Truman and Mitchell. They assured me all the students are safe as well, and are being reunited with their parents on the other side of the cafeteria. Deputies are now in place throughout the campus to ensure the kids are able to leave the premise with no further disruptions. How’s your hand, Mr. Woodard?”

  “It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll be fine,” Trin’s dad replied making no attempt to hide his anger. “But what I can’t understand is why this hearing was moved from the board room downtown to the school gym. No one could have foreseen the mob outside, I know that. Nonetheless, who in the world made the decision put every one of these kids in harm’s way?”

  “Mr. Woodard, the Simpson’s Senior Legal counsel was the one who demanded the hearing be moved to the gymnasium,” said Mr. Yandel. “He insisted the board room was not large enough to accommodate the numbers of parents and concerned citizens who had a right to know what was going on in their schools. He wanted to ensure no one was turned away due to lack of space. But surely they had no way of knowing what would happen outside today. No one can blame them, or the Simpsons for the actions of that mob.”

  Pastor Jamison replied, “I agree and urge everyone to remain calm. Without a doubt, this is another in a long string of demonic attacks designed to send all of us into a state of panic. I just got off the phone with my wife and she is even now notifying the prayer warriors of the situation. She will exhort the saints to step up the intercession for our physical safety and to pray we are able to complete the job God sent us here to do.”

  “Right,” said Yandel looking at his watch. “Ok then, let’s get to it, shall we?”

  It was 3:15 when Yandel, Pastor Jamison and the Woodard family finally entered the gym. As anticipated, the room was packed to capacity. Those who could not find seats in the bleachers stood in groups along the walls. Many parents had come eager to show their support for the tender teacher. Many came out of curiosity, just wanting to find out what all the fuss was about. Others came because they knew full well what was really going on and were determined to see the hearing proceeded according to their agenda.

  Superintendent Mitchell, Principal Truman, and all nine members of the Plymouth school board were already seated at a table in the center of the gym, directly in front of the bleachers. The Simpson and their lawyers had already made themselves comfortable at a table to the right of the board. Trinity and Yandel’s team walked past the Simpsons and sat down at the table prepared for them on left.

  Eli and Jasmine escorted the family down the hallway and into the gym then stationed themselves on either side of Trin’s table. Eli stood in between the two tables, while Jasmine remained next to her tender charge sitting at the other end of the table. When the Woodard table had been secured, Aza’s warriors scattered to their assigned locations.

  Superintendent Cameron Mitchell addressed the assembly.

  “Everyone, if I could have your attention. Please quiet down and take your seats so we may proceed with this meeting. Those along the walls, please remain where you are during these proceedings. Before we begin I want to reassure everyone that our fine law enforcement agencies have restored order outside and all our children are safe and are even now being reunited with their parents.”

  Spontaneous cheers and sighs of relief echoed throughout the room.

  “Let me also say that due to the disruptive nature of recent events related to today’s hearing, the police have asked every person present to remain in their seats for the duration of the hearing. No one will be allowed to enter or leave the gym until this meeting is adjourned. Armed officers are stationed both inside and outside of the building and will not hesitate to apprehend anyone not willing to comply with these orders. This decision may seem harsh, but I assure you, the safety of everyone present is our greatest concern.

  “Next, speaking for myself and the rest of the board, we want to make it perfectly clear to everyone in this room that we will not allow this meeting to be turned into a free-for-all. Absolutely no comments will be tolerated from the audience. Anyone not able to honor these restrictions will be promptly escorted to police headquarters. Given the events we have just witnessed, I trust everyone present understands the need for such limitations.

  “And now, to the matter at hand. We all know why we are here today. In fact, it seems the whole country knows why we are here.”

  Turning towards the Simpson table, Mitchell said,

  “Mr. and Mrs. Simpson have made some serious allegations against one of our fifth grade teachers. It is the purpose of this board to hear testimony from all parties, and decide whether or not these accusations have merit and to rule accordingly. I would remind everyone present that the decision of this board is final. Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, you may begin.”

  Mr. Simpson respectfully stood to his feet as he addressed the board.

  “Distinguished members of the board and members of the audience, my family and I recently moved to this community when I accepted a position with a well-known law firm in downtown Sheboygan as a senior legal partner. Subsequently we enrolled our fifth-grade son, Derrick, at Plymouth Elementary. That was just five short days ago.

  “To our horror, within hours of his arrival on day one, Derrick, was humiliated, embarrassed, unjustly accused, and unjustly punished by his teacher, Miss Trinity Woodard. The following day, our son was denied food and water, called a liar and a thief, and required to listen to his teacher ridicule the moral decisions of his own parents as the entire class listened. Due to these tragic events, our son has suffered enormous mental and emotional distress which will, no doubt, affect his academic abilities for years to come.

  “No child should have to endure such persecution especially coming from one of the very people children should be able to trust the most - their own school teacher. Therefore my wife and I demand you hold this woman responsible for her outrageous and illegal actions. We demand that this board find Miss Woodard guilty of gross misconduct, both as an instructor and as a public servant, and that you rule in favor of her immediate termination. We are confident of the mounting legal precedent in our favor, as evidenced by the outcome of numerous similar complaints filed with the State Office of Public Education. Copies of those briefings were included with our original petition and are now before you for review and consideration. Thank you, Mr. Superintendent.”

  Mr. Simpson then sat down, confident in the success of his professional abilities to win legal battles and to sway the opinions of la
rge audiences to best suit the interests of his clients. Several in the audience clapped loudly as Gary took his seat.

  “Thank you for your remarks, Mr. Simpson,” Superintendent Mitchell respectfully responded. “Now, having carefully read your complaint, including the supporting documents you provided, and Miss Woodard’s testimony, this board has a few questions we’d like to ask. First, when you learned of these events, did you or your wife ever simply ask your son if he took the other student’s lunch?”

  Without giving her husband time to respond, Mrs. Simpson rose to her feet to address the question. Turning first to the audience with a slight grin on her face, she faced the board and replied, “Well of course we did. Derrick said he never took anything from Jason’s lunch box. He said the other students at the table agreed to lie to the teacher because they didn’t like him.” Taking her seat, she glanced sideways at her husband but said nothing.

  “Can you think of any reason why the students would not like your son, Mrs. Simpson? After all, it was only his first day at this school. He hardly knew anyone,” questioned Principal Truman.

  “Derrick said they were just mean kids, that’s all,” Mrs. Simpson replied curtly.

  Superintendent Mitchell followed up with an additional question. “Can you think of any reason why your son would be less than truthful about these matters, Mrs. Simpson?”

  Indignant at the implication of the question, Mrs. Simpson snapped back, “Our son never lies!”

  “It was never my intention to imply he did, Mrs. Simpson,” carefully replied Superintendent Mitchell.

  Trinity raised her hand and asked the board if she was allowed to ask a question at this point in the hearing. Superintendent Mitchell replied, “That is within your right. You may proceed.”

  Looking directly at Edith, Trinity asked, “Mrs. Simpson, this may seem like an odd question, but can you tell the board what you put in Derrick’s lunch box that first day of school?”

  “Well, let me see. He had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bag of potato chips, some carrot sticks and an apple. Would you like to know what kind of bread I used to make the sandwich?” Edith sarcastically added.

  “No, Mrs. Simpson. I’d just like to know if you are certain there was nothing else in his lunch box,” pressed Trinity.

  The defensive mother replied. “There was nothing else.”

  “Then can you explain how chocolate chip cookies ended up in Derrick’s lunch box?” Trinity asked.

  Rolling her eyes Edith replied, “There were no chocolate chip cookies in his lunch box. You are mistaken.”

  “Mrs. Simpson, I saw chocolate chip cookies inside your son’s lunch box when I intervened during the argument between your son and the other student in the cafeteria Monday afternoon. The cookies were under an apple and several loose carrot sticks. In addition, Derrick later actually admitted to me he had taken the cookies.” Trinity confidently stated. “Now as hard as this may be for you to believe, Derrick is not telling you and your husband the truth about his actions that day.”

  Mr. Simpson quickly realized this kind of testimony was not going in a direction most advantageous to their case. Regaining control of the debate he responded by stating,

  “I’ll talk to Derrick again tonight and make sure I get the whole truth out of him. But honestly, Miss Woodard, what if he did take the food and then lied to avoid getting into trouble? He’s only a child and we’re talking about a handful of chocolate chip cookies. It is not like he robbed a bank or killed somebody!”

  “So as an attorney Mr. Simpson, are you saying there are times when it is acceptable to steal if the items taken are of little value?” Superintendent Mitchell asked Derrick’s father.

  “No sir, that is not what I meant,” Gary Simpson replied, nervously changing positions in his chair.

  “But Mr. Simpson,” Trinity said, “Derrick told me he often hears you and your wife saying, ‘No one has the right to tell me what to do. If it feels good and brings me pleasure, I’ll do whatever I want, so long as no one gets hurt.’”

  “Yeah, we say that! So what?” Mrs. Simpson rudely interjected.

  Trinity paused for a moment then said, “Well, Mrs. Simpson, what if I walked into your newspaper office tomorrow afternoon, opened your desk drawer, and stole your lunch box. I’m pretty sure I know how you would react. You’d go running down the hall to the Editor’s office shouting, ‘Catch the thief!’

  Before permitting a rebuttal Trinity continued with her line of reason. “But what would be my crime? According to your moral perspective, you would have no basis upon which to judge my actions as wrong since I was just doing something that made me feel good. And since neither you nor anyone else at the newspaper would die of starvation as a result of my actions, I would not be guilty of harming anyone, isn’t that correct?”

  Becoming increasingly annoyed, and after giving the audience another coy grin, Mrs. Simpson replied in a condescending tone, “Now Miss Woodard, we are all adults here and know perfectly well that kind of behavior would be childish and wrong.”

  “You are absolutely right!” Trinity quickly stated. “And your son also knows it would be wrong. That’s why he lied. But let me ask you another question. Why is it wrong for an adult to lie and steal if it makes them feel good, but such behavior is ok for a ten year old boy? If stealing and lying are wrong for an adult, then these behaviors are wrong for a child. That’s one of the reasons such standards are called ‘absolute truths.’

  “Mrs. Simpson, although I have only known Derrick a short time, I believe he is an intelligent, compassionate, and gifted young man. Both you and your husband should be very proud of him. And I am sure he never meant to deliberately harm anyone. But I also believe your son knew his behavior was selfish and wrong. And I believe he would acknowledge his hurtful behavior and apologize for his actions if given the opportunity and encouragement to do so.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, I did not bring religion into the classroom as you have accused me of doing. And I never insisted your son pray to the author of the Ten Commandments. However, I did encourage him to consider the moral truths contained in those commandments. Self-control, honesty, respect for his fellow students, these were the kinds of mature, moral standards I was trying to teach your son that day. Nothing more; nothing less.”

  Standing to her feet once again, Mrs. Simpson shouted, “How dare you imply my son is immoral and out-of-control!”

  Instantly, Gary reached over and took ahold of his wife’s hand, quietly but firmly stating, “Edith, sit down!”

  Scowling at her husband, Edith shouted, “I will not sit down!”

  Leaning over the table and pointing her index finger directly at Trinity, Edith continued her tirade. “What gives you the right to judge the standards by which we raise our son?”

  “Mrs. Simpson!” Superintendent Mitchell interjected. “Please, calm yourself and sit down. No one is attacking your son. May I remind you this is a formal school board hearing? You will conduct yourself in a mature, respectful manner or be escorted out of the building.”

  All of the sudden Trinity realized she was very hot. Tiny droplets of sweat were forming on her forehead and she was having trouble breathing. The room started spinning and Trinity was afraid she was going to pass out. Mumbling something about grotesque creatures flying around the room, she quickly put her head down on the table and closed her eyes. Mr. Woodard immediately left the room to find the school nurse and to get Trinity something cool to drink. Putting her arm securely around her daughter, Mrs. Woodard began to pray silently while Mr. Yandel asked the board for a short recess.

  Pastor Jamison was the first to recognize the intense spiritual battle taking place inside the gym. He left his seat in the first row and walked over to the table where Trinity was sitting. Whispering into Mrs. Woodard’s ear he said, “This is a direct demonic attack. We need to pray hard, now!”

  Mrs. Woodard shook her head in agreement as Trin’s father returned with a glass
of water and the school nurse. After checking on the status of her patient, the nurse said, “Why is it so hot in here? What happened to the air conditioning?”

  As Pastor Jamison continued his silent prayers, he too realized how uncomfortably warm the room had become. With hundreds of human bodies jammed close together in the stands, it wasn’t long before Trinity was not the only one feeling lightheaded. Other attendees began complaining of the heat and were removing unnecessary outer clothing in an attempt to find relief from the stifling temperature.

  Superintendent Mitchell sent the nurse to find the janitor with instructions to immediately check on the environmental controls for the gym. “Tell Potter it feels like someone has turned up the thermostat to a hundred degrees!” he said.

  Undetected by most of the assembled and spiritually distracted mortals, a small contingent of Deceivers loyal to Warwick’s treasonous plans had crept into the gym through the air conditioning vents. Except for a set of razor sharp horns on their heads, their appearance was like that of a mutilated human male from the waist up and an ordinary goat from the waist down. Hoping to catch the other side by surprise, the hideous creatures plunged down into the room through the metal grates in the ceiling. Clinging to the gym walls, the demons began to howl and jump from one side of the room to the other. With hurricane speed, they circled the room faster and faster until suddenly, they jumped off the walls and in a split second landed on the floor directly in front of Trinity’s table.

  With lightning speed, Jasmine stood up and extended her dry, fully functional wings. A shield of radiant light instantly covered the entire table and everyone seated. Undeterred, deformed, gnarly hands and dozens of long boney fingers tried repeatedly to tear through the deceptively thin, feathery shield. Again and again their horny heads crashed into the shield towards Trinity, desperate to rip out the heart of the tender teacher. But like tempered steel, Jasmine’s wings proved to be an impenetrable covering. Unable to reach their target at close range, the wicked warriors retreated to the walls on the other side of the gym just behind the electrical scoreboard and managed to escape out of the building through a ventilation shaft in the ceiling.

  While the four-legged Deceivers planned their next assault, Warwick and eight of his most fierce cohorts entered the gym through the double doors on either side of the bleachers. With the pomp and ceremony of ferocious royalty, Warwick marched arrogantly past the human security guards with their side arms, and stood in the center of the gym. Studying for a moment the mortal audience before him, then turning to focus his gaze directly on Eli, Warwick extended his two jet black wings, took a deep breathe, raised his head and roared, “Come and get me if you dare, you and your puny little ponies of heaven!”

  Strengthened by the prayers of the saints, Aza’s troops were already in motion. Warwick had barely uttered the call to arms when Holy Healers attacked. Like bolts of lightning, scores of radiant warriors began to emerge from all four corners of the room. They flew up from under the bleachers. They charged in through the double doors on either side of the gym. They flew in through cracks in the cement flooring and dropped down through ceiling tiles.

  Overwhelmed and hopelessly outnumbered, hell’s armies had nowhere to run, as Captain Aza threw a white, sticky, web-like net about the creatures’ dark hooves. Their struggles to free their legs from the shiny, glue-like substance covering each strand were futile. The more they wrestled and thrashed about, the more they became entangled in its web. And one-by-one, like bugs on flypaper, the once boastful soldiers were immobilized.

  Unable to escape or retaliate, Radiant warriors then moved in from all directions. Healers with horns ripped open the dark flesh of their opponents, leaving gaping wounds in the bodies of their four-legged captives. Hell’s soldiers lay helpless as Captain Aza’s strike team stabbed and jabbed until the floor beneath their hooves was covered with their foul blood. Radiant soldiers then used their powerful hind legs and kicked the battered bodies across the room. Like individual, bloody bowling balls, again and again, Deceivers and Liars were sent crashing into the walls of the gym.

  While Aza’s soldiers battled the so-called champions of hell, Eli went after their leader. With laser-sharp focus, heaven’s mighty Prince reared up on his hind legs, snorted loudly, lowered his single horn and charged. The wicked Lieutenant did the same. Racing towards one another, white sparks resembling miniature lightning bolts flashed as their massive horns collided. Oblivious to the skirmishes around them, again and again the two unicorns charged. Like drawn swords of tempered steel, explosion after explosion sent shock waves throughout the gym, rattling the walls and windows as the powerful, supernatural creatures engaged one another in an age-old combat.

  A few seconds later, Eli’s horn hit its mark and tore deep into the flesh of Warwick’s left leg, leaving a bloody, oozing hole the size of a man’s fist in his hindquarter. Wasting no time, Eli charged again. He plunged his horn into the arrogant Lieutenant’s left shoulder, just missing his throat. Realizing he was losing the frontal attack, Warwick turned his back side towards Eli. Using his good leg, Warwick tried to kick his assailant in the head. But the demon’s wounded limb was not strong enough to support his full weight. Staggering, he fell to his knees. Not waiting for his enemy to strike, Warwick quickly extended his wings and flew out the room, down the hallway, and out of the building towards the baseball field at Lincoln Park.

  Eli was right behind him. Flying directly above his weakened foe, Eli repeatedly thrust his needle-sharp horn into the exposed muscles of Warwick’s hind quarter. Over and over Eli struck until the demon’s hind end was red with blood. Gathering what strength remained Warwick changed direction. He shot straight up into the air, made a huge circle around Eli then sped north. Aware of the blood dripping down his back legs, Warwick knew his only hope of survival was to reach the stronghold of Khan before he collapsed. Once there, his superior officer would then gather reinforcements for a retaliatory strike.

  But heaven had other plans. Using his massive unicorn like a shovel, Eli forced the fledgling airborne lieutenant to fly back towards Lincoln Field. As soon as the two warriors were over the baseball field, a gigantic sinkhole mysteriously opened up directly under home plate. As if an enormous, supernatural vacuum cleaner had just been turned on, Warwick’s bloody body was then sucked out of the sky and vanished in the chasm below.

  As the screaming Warwick descended Eli shouted, “And you said we could not mount a coordinated assault! You forgot it only takes a whisper to the Father to mobilize the armies of truth.”

  Back in the gym, Warwick’s soldiers who had earlier managed to escape decided to return for one final offensive against their primary target. In a direct aerial assault, the group dropped back down into the gym using the same metal shaft. Landing momentarily on the suspended scoreboard, they dove down to one of the upper bleacher seats. Then, aiming straight for Trinity’s heart, the creatures flew in for the kill.

  But instead of reaching their mark, the grotesque creatures slammed once again into the protective wings of heaven. As if crashing into a concrete wall, the defeated demons slid off of Jasmine’s shield and fell onto the floor between the two conference tables. Fragments of their shattered horns lay scattered on the floor beneath their crushed bodies.

  Wasting no time, winged Healers lunged, digging their sharp teeth into the flesh of the demon’s legs. Flipping their bodies upside down, the helpless creatures were lifted off of the floor and held, suspended in mid-air. Captain Aza’s remaining soldiers did the same for Warwick’s other soldiers, still lying motionless near the drinking fountains. Holy Warriors then flew their defeated enemy out of the gym, down the hallway, and out the double doors at the north exit of the building, transporting them all the way to Lincoln Field.

  By the time they arrived, the sink hole had doubled in size, as if hell had enlarged the entrance to its’ fiery abyss to accommodate this new batch of condemned prisoners. Hovering directly over the entrance to the b
ottomless pit, Holy Warriors then dropped the demons into the swirling mass below. Plummeting to their final abode, the defeated servants of hell joined their former commander in the place of eternal torment.

  Pastor Jamison quickly informed the policemen nearest the gym’s main entrance of the developing situation and how uncomfortable the room had become. He asked if it would be safe to open both the gym doors, as well as the row of ceiling windows, in order to get some fresh air circulating inside the room as soon as possible. Since the remaining protestors outside the building had been forced to move down the street and the need for immediate ventilation was obvious, the officers allowed the doors and windows to be opened. One-by-one, members of the maintenance department opened three large upper windows near the ceiling just above the bleachers. Soon, fresh, crisp autumn air began flowing over the audience providing much needed relief from the stifling heat.

  Concealed a safe distance from the heat of the battle, Commander Khan sneered as he watched the slaughter of Warwick and his rebels. Warwick defectors also cheered at the demise of their egotistical Lieutenant. Seeing his destruction was complete, Khan publically mocked his former subordinate as he roared,

  “Fool! Let his fate be immortalized throughout the ranks of the underworld. Let it be known, ‘Thus is the fate of those who dare betray Khan!’”

  With the Commander in the lead, surviving Destroyers and Liars quickly and quietly left the scene without further confrontation. Regrouping at their command post, final plans were discussed for their next offensive. Assured hell’s forces were finally in place, Commander Khan sent word to his commander-in-chief.

 
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