Almost Heaven (21 page)

“The trick with radio is saturation,” I said. “People respond to stuff they hear over and over. It takes a few times hearing it for them to decide to come here. So you have to load up on the morning and afternoon drive and then sprinkle the spots in throughout the rest of the day to get the best effect.”

He shook his head. “I don't know. I'll have to think about it.”

“Absolutely,” Charlie said. “But remember, Billy's giving you first chance at this, and as the schedule fills up, the price will also go up. Don't wait too long.”

We drove back to my house with Charlie telling me this was my big start. He was impressed with the way I had taken over and said if I could pitch like that to other businesses, I could have the first year of funds in the bank.

“Don't be discouraged when they say no. They'll probably say that more often than yes. But one in ten will say yes, so keep knocking on doors.”

“What kinds of businesses would be best?”

“Any business that depends on people knowing about them. And that's every business.”

“Would a realty company be a good sale?”

“You bet. You want listeners to bond with that business. So you might have them come to the studio and record their own spots.”

“What about your realty business?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, there's probably people here who have no idea how much help you could be to them.”

He smiled. “You're going to be a natural at this, Billy.”

He wrote a check for two weeks of spots. I had him write down a little bit of what he wanted said. When he left, I had more of a feeling of what I had gotten into. My original vision was just to play music and tell people the good news. I could focus on the technical side of things like I always had and pass for an announcer, but the sales area had scared me. Now I had a vision for this side of the business and what I needed to do before I pulled the switch.

* * *

A week before I was scheduled to go on the air, I dressed in my Sunday best and hit the road. I had called ahead to set up appointments at Foodland, the drugstore, the print shop, and the mini golf. Other places I just stopped.

The owner of the gas station laughed at me. “Billy, people aren't going to come to my gas station because they hear you talk about me on the radio. They're going to come by here because they need gas.”

I got that reaction a lot and by the end of the day I was exhausted, discouraged, and getting pretty low. I stopped at the diner and ordered a glass of orange juice to bring my sugar level back up. I paid the server and was about to walk out when Albert sat on a stool at the counter.

“Do you really think you can increase my business in the evenings, Billy?”

“I don't know for sure about anything but death, taxes, and the grace of God. But if you'll try it out for a month, I promise I'll give it my best shot. And if in the middle of that time, you don't see results, you can cancel and I'll give the rest of your money back.”

“All right. I'll take a week's worth. Ten spots a day. You throw in the second week and we'll go from there.”

I shook his hand and went home with my second account. I recorded the spots the next day and had them in the cart machines and ready to go.

It was hard to sleep on those nights before the station started. Slowly the rest of my freelance work had dropped off until the new station became my only source of income. It was like God was weaning me from the teat of what I had always known. A paycheck. Benefits. He was taking me into uncharted waters and I was buoyed along by my vision and his grace.

I've heard it said that the best place to be is in the will of God. Every night as I tossed and turned, with Rogers lying at the foot of the bed, I prayed that's where I was. I wanted this to be something that could only be explained by God's intervention. Those days I walked by faith and not by sight. It was the most exciting time of my life.

15

On the day Billy began his second radio career, he was forty-four years old. He could hardly sleep the night before, preparing the music reels that would loop and play continuously when there was no thirty-minute program. He had set the looping up so that if all of the reels were full, he could leave the station for four hours. Four hours of sleep at a time was all he would have for years, which wreaked havoc on his health.

In those early days, he ran on adrenaline, instant coffee, and Callie's food. It was clear to me how she felt, and clear to everyone in their church, but for some reason Billy remained uninterested. Perhaps there was only one love of his life. Perhaps he believed God had called him to singleness.

My theory was not any of the above. I believed Billy was somehow “stuck” in his mind-set, settled into a way of thinking and a way of life that was not wholly chosen by him, but determined by past events. I am not discounting the fact that he was a committed follower of the Way. There is no question that his motivation for the things he did with his life was to bring others into the truth about God. But in the lives of many humans, there is an event that brings them to a point of irreconcilable difference with themselves, and the enemy uses this to mire them in despondency and despair. This clouds their vision of the future and what might be with things that are not. The evil one loves to distort what
is
by looking through the prism of the past. It could have been the flood that did this to Billy or possibly the rejection he'd experienced from Heather, but I had an inkling it was something else.

I sent word to my superior and asked for any explanation or lead. I explained my theory and posited that someone may have witnessed a crucial event during those years when I had been absent, but the response was less than satisfactory. There was no record of past events given.

For the moment, I had little choice but to abandon this line of questioning and merely observe Billy as he settled into his new role with the station. There seemed to be no enemy activity around him during this time. This concerned me, for there should have been at least some opposition to Billy's radio venture. It appeared the forces of evil did not regard his efforts as worthy of an attack.

In an intuitive move, I visited Callie and there discovered a shockingly different story. Sometimes the evil one casts a frontal assault, but at many others he uses unconventional means. He stages a peripheral attack.

Callie lived alone just across the county line in a double-wide trailer. She spent her days at a job she did not enjoy with people who vexed her. These she faithfully prayed for and treated with as much kindness as she could muster. She had a vision of the future that was not commensurate with reality. (I know this from several diary entries, not from reading her mind.) She believed Billy was the one for her and that he would eventually discover the truth that they were meant for each other. She had helped with his mother out of an equal amount of kindness and longing. After he began his radio station, she would listen each day, setting her clock radio to hear his first words.

I discovered an imp bent on Callie's destruction at her home. Simpering and twisted, he was frightened at the first sight of my light.

“What do you want with me, servant of the Most High?” the evil one seethed.

“Why do you torment this woman?”

He cocked his head. “Why do you protect worthless human debris? Why do you spend your days tethered to a man whose life is of no consequence?”

“Every life has consequence. Every beating heart. Every tortured soul. They are worth something because the King places His worth on them.”

“Save your tripe,” he spat. “Even you don't truly believe
every
life has value. Not even your Leader believes that, for He has destined some to us. He chose some to believe and let others fall.”

“He is not willing that
any
should perish,” I said, tight-lipped. “He proved His love by the sacrifice of His own Son.”

The imp backed away, but there was a sneer in his voice when he said, “You exult in His sovereignty, but all I see is chaos. The One who orders the universe is incompetent. Look at the calamity and the bloodshed and the tears.” He was emboldened by his own words and moved closer. “And with all of the battles to be fought, with all of the skirmishes between yours and mine, you continue to follow an inconsequential, dithering, inept human. Has your Sovereign forgotten your power and skill?”

“I do not answer to you.”

“Agreed. But wouldn't your experience and expertise be better suited for battle? If you would come to our side, you could serve a being with such great power. He is responsive to those who call to him, not negligent and uncaring.”

“Your
leader
,” I said with contempt, “has only the power given him by the One on the throne. The King does not love the darkness, does not skulk in the shadows and tear down. He dwells in the light and has at His heart the best interests of His creation.”

“The light, the light,” the imp said dismissively. “You should see what men do in the darkness. That makes a much better story.”

“Tell me why you were assigned to this woman,” I said, disregarding his repulsive tongue movements.

“I don't have to tell you anything,” he seethed, then softened. “But I will. Yes, I will because my superior said you would approach one day and that when you do, I am to tell you what will happen.”

“You have no knowledge of the future.”

“And yet you are interested.”

When I did not respond, he continued.

“The end of this woman is fast approaching. And her demise will be even worse than that of your charge's father.” He inched closer, his eyes wide. “Your charge seems to have a black cloud following him. Those he touches wither.”

The imp moved up to the room where the woman now sat in a worn recliner, a cover over her to break the chill, a tissue to her nose. “Look at her. He has already caused her depressed state and will contribute to her end.”

“This woman will not fall to your devices and plans. The King loves her too much.”

“Ah, so
you
know the future! Or were you given special revelation? Wouldn't you have said the same about his parents?”

“I know this: whatever befalls her is not outside the loving watchcare of the One who called her according to His purposes.”

“The old crutch comes out.” He laughed. “Every time there are problems or something you hadn't anticipated, you pour these into the melting pot of the Almighty's purposes and stir and simmer them. While teeth gnash and children die and spinsters shrivel into shells, you call on God's goodness. How convenient. Why do you let your Ruler off so easily?”

“Be careful, evil one. I will chase you to the pit where you will spend your eternal destiny.”

“My, you have the script memorized. God's little angel on a string, dancing to and fro in order to please the One who pushes and pulls. How sad not to have the freedom to live for yourself. For something much bigger.”

The longer he spoke, the more I realized this demon believed there was a crack in my armor. If he could get me to turn from serving the King, if he could not just sway me in my desire to follow but also get me to turn and fall away from Truth, he would have done something he had never been able to accomplish in the realm of battle. Defection from the ranks of the elect.

“Your Leader does not really care about you, your charge, or this poor woman,” the imp continued. “It is all about
His
glory,
His
name.
His
eternal purposes. That seems rather self-possessed, wouldn't you agree? I would much rather follow a leader who can give you a measure of power to exercise on your own, at your discretion, than blindly follow One who only has His own interests at heart.”

I knew this to be false on the face of it. The imp had no discretion whatsoever. He was chained eternally by the knowledge of eventual defeat. But he was also chained by his superiors. If there was anyone who had freedom, it was me. The ability to act justly and with honor is freedom, a truth that would be lost on this one.

He turned to the woman, who had pulled her knees to her chest, her body wracking with sobs. “It is only a matter of time,” he continued. “Your charge puts her through such torment. Even more than I can inflict.”

“Go to your superior,” I said. “Tell him I demand a meeting.”

“So you can get me to leave my charge?” He chuckled. “I may look inept, but I'm certainly not going to—”

I grabbed him—actually touched the foul-smelling beast—and held him close. He turned his head from the light and shielded his eyes.

“I said you will go now and tell your superior, the evil one I spoke with at the cemetery after the father's funeral. I need information.”

He struggled to get free. “What information? He will ask me. He will send me back. It will only take longer if you don't tell me.”