A Treasury of Miracles for Teens Page 9

  Steve’s mother closed her eyes and let the tears come. Steve had promised her his days of doing drugs were behind him. He had been in and out of a rehabilitation center twice since his thirteenth birthday, and now this. Would he ever quit? Would she forever be hunting him down, worrying about whether he was killing himself or someone else because of his drug addiction? She and her husband prayed for him every day, but Steve hadn’t believed in God since he was young. Where would he ever find the strength to leave the drugs and partying if he didn’t grab hold of the faith he’d once had?

  The paramedics backed away from Steve. “He needs a place to sober up, but there’s nothing wrong with him medically.” They nodded to Steve’s mother. “I’m sorry about this, ma’am. It must be very difficult.”

  She nodded and bit her lower lip. Tears would serve no purpose now. She needed to figure out a way to get Steve home. After that, she and her husband could figure out what the next step was. She moved in close to Steve’s head.

  “Steve … wake up,” she whispered. When he was asleep like this—even lying prone on the floor of a supermarket—he still looked like the kindhearted child he’d once been. Her heart grieved at all he’d lost, all he’d become over the years. “Come on, Son, get up.”

  Steve opened his eyes. It took only seconds for the frantic confusion she’d seen so often to flash across his face. “Where is he?” He glanced around the circle of people still gathered near him. Then he looked at his mother. “Mom, where did he go?”

  Great, more hallucinations. A wave of embarrassment washed over her and she kept her voice low. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, Steve.”

  Steve sat straight up and looked around until he saw the store manager. “Where did he go, that man who was holding me down?”

  The manager glanced at the crowd, which had dwindled to just a few people. “I guess he’s gone.”

  Slowly, Steve rose to his feet, his arms and legs shaking. The strange images were gone, but there was no question the drugs were still working their way through his body. At that instant, a policeman moved in and placed handcuffs on Steve’s wrists as he read him his rights.

  “Wait a minute!” Steve’s mother stepped back, her eyes wide. “Why are you arresting him? I’ll take him home and he’ll be fine there. Please … don’t do this.”

  One of the officers cast her a kind glance. “His hallucination took place in a public market, ma’am. We’re arresting him for making a public disturbance.”

  The other officer nodded his agreement. “Besides, it’ll be hours before he’s sober again. There’s some concern he could act wild again. We want him in handcuffs for his safety as well as that of the people around him.”

  Before the police led him away, Steve turned again to the manager. “Please …” He was suddenly much calmer than he had been moments earlier. “Tell me what that man looked like, the man who talked to me.”

  The manager squirmed uncomfortably at the strange request. “He was … well,” he began, trying to remember. “He was a customer. He had short blond hair, a muscular build and, let’s see, well, a real clean-shaven face. That’s all I can remember.”

  Steve shook his head. “No, I mean the other man. The one who leaned over me and talked to me.”

  The manager frowned. “Yes, that’s who I’m telling you about.”

  Steve shook his head, desperate to know about the other man. The one who’d looked like Christ. “No, the man who helped me. He had dark hair, a beard, brown eyes. Where is he?”

  The manager stared at him, his face blank. At that point, his mother stepped in and placed her hand on Steve’s arm. “Maybe it was the drugs, Son.”

  “No, Mom, it was a man. I saw him right above me, looking at me, talking to me. He even knew my name.”

  The manager drew a slow breath. “All I can tell you is that the man who helped you was a blond guy.”

  The police were anxious to leave, but Steve’s mother stopped as though she’d suddenly remembered something. She looked at the manager. “You’re sure the man who helped my son was blond?”

  “Definitely.” The manager shrugged. “He left right after your son calmed down.”

  The police led Steve toward the door. “We need to take him to the station now.” They nodded toward Steve’s mother. “You’re welcome to follow us.”

  As they walked toward the front of the store, Steve looked back at his mother. His face was paler than before. “Something happened in there.” He shook his head. “My life will never be the same again, Mom.”

  He saw the frightened look on her face, unsure of what to make of his statement.

  “Don’t worry.” He smiled as tears built in his eyes. “I’ll tell you everything later.”

  Steve was booked and released from the police station after promising to appear in court to deal with his public disturbance charge. His mother took him home a few hours later. Normally after he’d gotten into trouble because of his drug use, Steve was angry and defiant. But as he approached his mother in their car and climbed inside, he was strangely upbeat.

  “Okay, what is it Steve? What happened back there at the store?” His mother leaned back in the driver’s seat, waiting for Steve to explain himself.

  “It was the strangest thing. Not like my other drug trips, Mom. I’m serious.”

  “What you saw was strange?”

  “At first it was like usual—vegetables chasing me, that kind of thing. But then this man looked at me. His face was …” Steve stopped himself. “Mom, do you think God might be trying to tell me something?”

  His mother swallowed. Steve hadn’t talked about God in years. “Of course, Son. That’s what your dad and I pray for every day. That God will get through to you, whatever it takes.” She hesitated. “So finish your story. What happened back there?”

  Steve told the story, careful not to miss any details.

  He drew a shaky breath. “I began sweating and then I think I started running through the store screaming for help.” His eyes narrowed, ashamed at himself for how he’d acted, thankful his mother hadn’t seen the worst of it. “Then I began seeing black little beings in the air and I closed my eyes. I think I just stood there screaming for help. When I opened my eyes, there were demons; that’s the only way I can describe them. They were all around me … black beings with fangs and claws and blood dripping from their mouths. Oh, Mom, it was so horrible.”

  Steve hung his head for a moment, reliving the nightmare of the hallucination. His mother reached over and took his hand.

  “What happened next?”

  Steve wiped at a stray tear on his cheek. “I felt someone grab me and take hold of my feet. Someone else was holding my arms. I had my eyes closed and I was still screaming. Then, all of a sudden I could hear this calm, gentle voice telling me to open my eyes and to trust him. Now, here’s where it gets really weird. I opened my eyes slowly and the demons were leaving; they were moving away as fast as they could. And in the middle of the image was a man who looked exactly like the pictures of Jesus. You know, pictures from my Sunday school class as a kid. Anyway, he was holding my arms real gentle, speaking soft so that only I could hear him.”

  “What did he say?” His mother looked like she was hanging on every word.

  “He told me that if I wanted to get rid of the demons I would have to stop the drugs. Then he told me he would help me so I wouldn’t have to do it on my own.”

  His mother lifted her hand to her mouth. “Steve … that’s amazing.”

  “After that I felt a lot of peace. The demons had gone completely, and I sort of fell asleep for a few moments. When I woke up, I wanted to talk to the man. But he was gone. No one knew where he was.”

  “Is it the same man the manager says was blond?”

  “I guess so. Everyone must have seen him. There were lots of people standing around when all this was happening.”

  “And no one saw where he went?”

  “No.” Steve blinked, grateful t
hat the drugs were wearing off. “But you want to know what’s the weirdest thing of all?”

  His mother nodded.

  “I know that guy was sent by God to warn me. If I don’t accept God’s help now and change my life, the demons will get me. I believe that’s why he appeared to me like that.”

  “But what about the blond guy? Was he talking to you or was it some image in your hallucination?”

  “I’m not sure. But everyone saw the man who held me down talking to me. They just couldn’t hear what he was saying.”

  “So you think it was a warning?” His mother’s voice was lighter, her expression more relaxed. “Son, I’ve prayed that your life would change, but I never expected this type of answer from the Lord.”

  Steve studied his mom, his heart overflowing with resolve. “I’ll never touch drugs again, Mom. I’m going to turn to God and give him back his place in my life. I don’t want what happened today to be for nothing.”

  “Hmmm,” his mother tilted her head. “It’s interesting.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a miracle, I guess. You were given a message from God the same way people used to get them back in biblical times.”

  Steve was confused. “Really?”

  “From angels, Steve.” A glow spread across her face. “Maybe the man who talked to you was an angel, telling you what the Lord wanted you to hear.”

  Steve thought a moment. “I guess I’ll never know. But it’s going to change my life, Mom. I promise you that.”

  Steve made several follow-up phone calls to the supermarket in search of the man who had helped him that afternoon. But the manager apparently never saw the man again. Whoever he was, he’d been available, he’d helped in an emergency situation, and then disappeared.

  But not in vain.

  Steve kept his word. For the next twenty years and still today, Steve Getz has stayed away from all drugs. He has also maintained a dynamic relationship with God, one that began on a cold, supermarket floor in the grasp of a man who was, perhaps, an angel.

  A Warning from Heaven

  Laughter had always been the glue that held together the friendship between Donna West and Vicki Cutter. They met in first grade and though they had their disagreements they always found something to smile about. Something that only made their friendship stronger through the years.

  “You two are more like sisters than friends,” their mothers often told them.

  It was true. And never more so than the summer of their fifteenth year. The girls were excited about starting their sophomore year at a Phoenix high school close to their homes. Every day since school let out they’d been inseparable. They took turns spending the night at each other’s houses. And three times they’d spent the day with friends at a local water park. But one of their favorite ways to spend the days was by hanging out at Donna’s aunt’s house. Aunt Kerry was only twenty-four and married to a great guy. The couple lived just a block away from Donna and their backyard contained one of the nicest pools in the neighborhood.

  Besides that, there was something different about Kerry. She and her husband believed in God and even talked about him in everyday conversations. Not just at Easter and Christmas like Donna’s parents or Vicki’s. But after a morning swim or between stores at the shopping mall.

  Donna was sure about what made Aunt Kerry different, and someday—when she was older—she hoped to have that same kind of faith. She told Vicki as much that July day as they made their way down the street toward Kerry’s house.

  “Whatever she’s got, I want it.” Donna kicked at a loose bit of gravel as they walked. “I just don’t know if I want it now.”

  Vicki thought about that for a moment. “What was it your aunt told us the other day? Something about Young Life?”

  “Right.” Donna tilted her head up and gazed at the clear blue sky. The day was going to be a scorcher, well over a hundred degrees. “It’s a club that meets at school. Maybe we should check it out when school starts up again.”

  They walked a bit more and Kerry greeted them at the front door. “Hey!” She smiled at them both. Her purse was over her shoulder and she held her car keys in her hands. “I was just going to the store.” She pointed back at the house. “Three burned-out lightbulbs and not a new one in the house.”

  “Oh.” Donna felt a ripple of disappointment. “That’s okay. We were just gonna hang out and swim for a while.”

  Aunt Kerry bit her lip. Then her eyes lit up. “Why don’t you come with me. We can swim when we get back.”

  Donna and Vicki looked at each other and shrugged. It didn’t matter if it was a routine errand. With Aunt Kerry the outing was bound to be fun. And funny. Kerry had a great sense of humor and appreciated the silliness that was a trademark of Donna and Vicki’s friendship.

  Donna grinned. “You sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all.” Kerry slipped out onto the porch, shut the front door of her house, and locked it. “We’ll be real quick, I promise.”

  On the way to the store, Vicki told a funny story about a baseball game the day before. “All our friends are on this summer team, so we thought we should go.” She paused. “You know … to support them. So we’re sitting in the bleachers and the game’s about half over when Donna stands up, walks over to the dugout, and nudges one of the guys through the fence and asks them about half-time.”

  “I thought we’d missed it.” Donna’s voice was half whine, half giggle. “No one ever told me base-ball doesn’t have a halftime.”

  Aunt Kerry laughed from the front seat. “You girls are so goofy. Both of you.”

  Donna and Vicki barely paused before telling Kerry another story. By the time they reached the store, the three of them were breathless from laughing so hard. Aunt Kerry pulled in and parked the car. “You girls want to stay here or come in with me?”

  The parking place was in the shade just a few spots down the center row of parking. It would be cool and probably more fun than going inside. Besides, it wasn’t quite ten in the morning yet. Donna spoke up first. “We’ll stay here. Besides,” she cast a quick grin at Vicki. “I haven’t told Vicki what Kyle said about her yet.”

  “What?” Vicki leaned forward, her eyes wide. “I’ve been with you for an hour already! I didn’t even know you’d talked to Kyle.”

  Aunt Kerry smiled. “Sounds like you girls have a lot to catch up on.” She rolled down all the windows, climbed out, and shut the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  Not three minutes later, after the story about Kyle was finished, Donna’s eyes lit up. “Hey … I have an idea.”

  Vicki was immediately in agreement. “What?”

  “Let’s play a trick on Aunt Kerry.”

  “Aunt Kerry?” Vicki’s eyes clouded some. “But Donna … she’s always so nice to us.”

  “Not a mean trick.” Donna gave Vicki a light push. “Just something to make her laugh.”

  “Like what?”

  And with that, Donna began to explain the plan.

  Less than ten minutes passed before Kerry Miller left the store and headed for her car. Almost immediately she noticed something was wrong. The girls were no longer in the car. She held back a sigh as she slid her package onto the front passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel. As funny as Donna and Vicki were, sometimes they didn’t know when to draw the line. They’d played tricks on Kerry before, and usually the jokes were funny—pretending to drop an ice cube down her back or splashing her when they were in the pool. But this … this disappearance was definitely not funny. She peered out the side window, searching for any sign of them. “Donna! Vicki!” Kerry yelled their names and waited. When there was no response, she tried again. “Girls … I’m leaving. This isn’t funny.”

  God, where are they? Kerry scanned the sidewalk in front of the store once more. Had they gotten hot and gone inside? Or were they in another store along the strip mall? Panic rattled the windows of Kerry’s heart. What if it wasn’t a joke? What if something ha
d happened to them?

  In that instant, Kerry got an idea. She would leave the parking lot and head straight for the police station. That way if something had happened to them, the officers could begin the search more quickly. And if not, when the girls saw her car leaving the area, they were bound to come running from one of the stores.

  Kerry slipped the key into the ignition and revved up the engine. She put the car into first gear, and since there were no cars parked in front of her, she started to drive straight ahead. Once she caught the girls’ attention, she could circle back and pick them up. Then I’ll be honest with them, she told herself. This kind of thing isn’t funny. Help me find them, God.

  Then, just as Kerry moved her foot off the brake and onto the gas pedal, she heard a distinct voice from the back of the car.

  “Back up!” The voice was deep, with a sort of intensity Kerry hadn’t heard before. “Go backwards!” Without hesitating, Kerry obeyed, not knowing why or who had spoken the words. It didn’t matter who spoke them, because the power and authority in the voice was beyond doubting. She had backed up five feet when she saw them.

  Donna and Vicki, crouched in front of Kerry’s car, low and giggling. They had been hiding by the front grill of the car the entire time. Nausea rushed across Kerry’s gut and she felt her body grow weak. Had she sped forward as she’d planned, she would have run over the girls and probably killed them both.

  Unaware of the danger they had been in, the girls came giggling toward the car and climbed inside. “Tricked you, didn’t we?” Donna’s smile showed she had no clue what kind of disaster they’d just been spared.

  Kerry slipped the car into park once again and turned around. She was shaking. “That wasn’t funny, girls. I thought you were going to stay in the car until I got back.”

  The girls’ faces fell. “Sorry,” Donna said softly. “We were just trying to have fun with you.”

  Aunt Kerry was silent the rest of the way home, choosing not to tell the girls about what had nearly happened until they pulled in the driveway. Then she explained how she was going to pull forward.