I listened half heartedly to my next client, but I couldn’t let go of Jani.
I’d seen him only once before. That first meeting had been wary for both of us. Jani presented with a history of drug abuse and from experience, I was not going to take all he said as gospel.
It was a standard question to which he replied, “No I’m not using now. I haven’t since I gave my life to Jesus.”
He glanced up unsure of how that was taken, once reassured he had told how it all came about. His had been a thrilling but dangerous journey into the arms of God and he was convinced it would cost him his life.
Today he came again, nervous, tense; a slight tremble to his hands raised my concern.
“They're after me I know it. They don’t like losing. But I’ve made up my mind I’m going through with it. I need you to pray for me, it’s all I ask.”
Commonsense arguments were met with a watery smile, only when I assured him I would be praying did he look me in the eye, thank me and take his leave.
What Jani dreaded so much had been set up for tonight, in a sleazy club on the edge of the city, and he would be there even though he knew it was dangerous! It all sounded so melodramatic, but still it held the ring of truth. I couldn’t forget the sense of resignation about him, the same kind of distorted peace that came over the suicidal when they were about to activate their plan.
As soon as I could, I finished up at the office. In the op shop, I smiled weakly and paid, murmuring something about “…fancy dress, tarts and vicars’’ They smiled back nodding knowingly.
It was a long drive, I had trouble finding the place, and worried I’d be too late. Bouncers hesitated at the door until I dropped a threat and a name Jani hinted meant trouble. They stepped aside and let me in.
Music, loud with primal beat, pulsed with the lights. Hot air thick with smoke and threats, was stirred by urgent angry voice. I saw a huddle thick, dark, muscular moving as a body of threat.
Suddenly all hell let loose as the huddle was jostled by police colliding with everyone. Shouts to freeze sent me spinning to the floor and through a forest of legs I saw the pale face of Jani as he was dropped.
Stepped on and kicked, I crawled to his space and cradled him, crooning as I stroked his damp hair. Sightless eyes stared back as blood, warm and sticky seeped into my hand. The wound was tiny; the thrust of the long delicate blade had been dealt with surgical precision straight through the heart.
The room cleared and I drifted in a haze of disbelief. I felt a strong hand grip my shoulder, and a voice nearby said,
“She’s not part of this, leave her.”
How was I not part of this? I hadn’t stopped it. It was wrong so wrong; I should have tried harder, spoken louder, and been stronger. A detective crouched nearby searching for Jani’s absent pulse. My anger welled up and over flowed,
“Don’t judge me, how do you know I had no part in this?” I met his gaze with defiance; I felt so much a part of the injustice.
The detective moved his head, a slight chin lift that caused me to glance behind me. An angel army of men stood, surrounding us, victorious, strong and powerful, as endowed with the Glory of God as the previous occupants of the room had been entrenched in darkness.
“With you I believe,”
I look back at Jani, brave young warrior who had given his all to expose the evil he had escaped.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.