The woman exchanged a glance with the young man beside her before slowly rising, the gentle tap of her heels drowning out the silence.
Biting my lip, I forced my leg to stop bouncing as Joseph placed a hand on the young woman’s head, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. I don’t know what was said, but whatever it was, it conjured a tear that rolled down her cheek.
“Tell us about yourself, Angela,” Joseph said, one hand falling to her shoulder while the other gently wiped the tear from her cheek.
“I… I don’t know what to… to say,” she stammered.
“How about you start by telling us all why you are here?” Joseph suggested.
Angela nodded, brushing a single strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. “Okay. Okay, um. I… I was never uh… never religious. I mean… I believed in God and everything but… I didn’t really go to church or pray or anything like that.” She sniffled, a second tear rolling down her cheek. “And then a few months ago… I… I tried to kill myself. It was stupid. I was in a dark place. While I was standing on the edge, overlooking the Thames… I saw him.”
“Saw who?” Joseph asked.
“The Devil.”
A collective gasp filtered through the room, quickly silenced by Joseph’s raised hand.
“And what happened when you saw him?”
“He taunted me… laughing about how humans didn’t appreciate God’s creation… how worthless creation was when we just… threw it all away,” Angela said. “And that was when I realised… he was right. I wasn’t… I wasn’tappreciatingthe life God gifted me.”
“I stepped away from the bridge… went home… and found your videos on the internet” she added, giving Joe a small, shy smile, “and that’s how I found myself here.”
“God brought you here, my dear,” Joe said, “and I am so glad he did, because the Devil left that bridge, too. And he came here with you.”
Members of the congregation exchanged worried glances, my mother leaning forward in her seat, notebook forgotten.
I inhaled sharply, holding my breath as Joe placed both hands on either side of Angela’s cheeks, looking intently into her eyes.
“Brothers and sisters,” he said, “let us pray for young Angela’s soul.”
Heads bowed, a chorus of prayers filled the room, my own lips moving despite my attention wavering. My gaze was fixed on the way Angela trembled, Joe’s grasp firm as he led us through prayer, voice raised like a General leading his soldiers into battle.
Angela’s knees slammed against the floor with a loud crack, a hush falling over the room. All eyes were on Joe as he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, expression softening as he spoke in a language I did not recognise.
An endless stream of tears rolled down Angela’s cheeks, candlelight chasing the shadows out from her dark brown eyes. The words Joe spoke wrapped her in a warm, protective embrace, something shifting in the air.
Her sobs quieted, her body stilling. A reverent look passed between them. And then she stood, a wide smile spreading across her tear-stained face.
“God is good,” Joe said, placing a hand on Angela’s shoulder as he looked out at his wide-eyed followers. “And when we fight in His name, we can drive out the Devil himself.”
A river of applause flooded the room, my mother rising to her feet, a look of adoration and wonder in her eyes.
***
“Augustus is a quiet boy,” Mrs Hadley said, lips spread into the inviting smile she often wore in the classroom, “but he is doing really well. He gets all his work done, he listens, and is always polite. He is an absolute pleasure to have in class.”
“I wish he was like that at home!” my father laughed.
Mrs Hadley chuckled awkwardly while my gaze fell to the floor, the Devil stirring awake as shame and embarrassment flooded through me.
You’re a bad kid, he said,a monster.
A snake slithering into the Garden of Eden.
Evil, wicked, full of sin.
The villain.
