Raymond Ehrhardt wasn’t what you’d call a religious man, but he believed in God and enjoyed getting solace from reading the Bible before he went to sleep each night. He’d tried reading thrillers and suspense novels, but they seldom helped him to relax after a long day at work.
His wife, Rosemary, was a devout Christian, and she sometimes urged him to read aloud, even after she’d preceded him to bed and doused the bedroom lights.
The wind had been gusting cold and chilly all day, and he was grateful to slide under the warm heavy quilt. He got into a comfortable position on his right side, and flicked on his book light.
“What are you reading tonight?” his wife asked in a sleepy voice.
“John. Chapter five.”
“Can you read to me, but not too loud?”
“Certainly.”
“I love you,” she said, barely above a whisper. She was lying on her left side and had her head buried in her goose down pillow.
“I love you back,” he said as he found the passages he was looking for.
“The man who was healed had no idea who it was, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd that was there,” he read, and decided to put his glasses back on. While his wife’s Bible had large print, his had much smaller type.
“Later Jesus found him at the temple and said to him,” he continued, and a voice spoke the next words as he read: “See, you are well again. Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.”
“Did you hear that?” he pivoted his head around and asked Rose.
“Very nice,” was all she said, slurring the words.
He turned back to his book.
“So, because Jesus was doing these things on the Sabbath, the jews persecuted him,” he read, and the voice again finished the passage with him: “Jesus said to them, My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I, too, am working.”
“I realize you’ve memorized a lot of this, but I’ve never heard your voice mimic a man’s in that tone before,” he said to his wife. “Rose?” He listened, but her breathing had changed and he knew she’d fallen asleep.
“Not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God,” Ray read, but didn’t finish the passage.
The voice did: “Jesus gave them this answer: I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing.”
The voice was coming from the hallway, outside the bedroom.
Still holding the Bible with the book light on, he slid out from under the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed.
He continued reading, but not aloud. “Yes, to your amazement he will show him even greater things than these.” He looked away from the Bible and the voice said, “For just as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, even so the Son gives life to whom he is pleased to give it.”
The voice had seemed more distant, no longer right outside the bedroom, but further down the hall. Ray shuddered and got to his feet. He walked to the doorway and heard nothing. The usual house sounds were silent, and he didn’t hear a trace of the blustery wind outside.
If there was someone in the house, he didn’t want to confront them in the dark. Aiming his book light to guide him, he closed the bedroom door almost all the way, and flipped on the hallway light switch. He couldn’t detect any movement in the hall or beyond it into the living room. And he still heard no sound whatsoever.
If someone was here, how could they possibly know what passages I was reading? Unless they had a close-up with a hidden infrared camera.
He almost dismissed that notion as preposterous when he decided to experiment. He walked to the edge of the living room and balanced the open Bible in his left hand. He re-directed the light back onto the page and cupped his right hand around the reading area. “Moreover, the Father judges no one, but has entrusted all judgment to the Son,” he read to himself, and closed his eyes.
The voice said, “That all may honor the Son just as they honor the Father.”
Ray’s eyes snapped open. It was coming from the kitchen, and it was louder.
He flipped the Bible shut, raced to the kitchen, and turned on the light.
No one. And still no sounds.
He went to the back door and checked to make sure it was still locked. It was. He peered through the back door glass and saw slim trees bending and leaves swaying, but he couldn’t hear a sound, even when he placed his ear near the crack. Very odd.
He saw some movement outside and turned off the kitchen light. It was in the backyard of his neighbor across the way. Ray placed his forehead on the glass and saw a flicker of light at ground level that was casting eerie shadows on the back of the Dillman’s house. He knew Dave left for work early, and didn’t see any lights on inside their home.
The flicker of light became a flame as suddenly a bush under a window was burning.
Ray had been cold all day, even though he’d been fully dressed with a jacket, but now he was only wearing his boxers and a T-shirt. The cold was numbing as he ran barefoot through his yard.
The frosty wind rustled the trees like pom-poms and as he shouted “Dave”, several other adjacent bushes ignited. Flames began to lick the wood siding of the house.
As Ray drew nearer, he could see a barbecue grill on its side with a trail of glowing coals pointed at the house. He was still shouting when he saw the fire crawl up and the wood began to darken.
At the same moment Ray saw the garden hose snaked around the yard, he saw the look of terror on the face of Becca Dillman that was pressed against a window at the corner of the house.
Ray groped the hose and kept yanking it, pulling it toward him, until he finally held the nozzle. He got as close as he dared to the fire and when he pulled the trigger, only a short spray then a trickle of water came out.
For some reason he kept pressure on the trigger as he looked for the valve. The flames were shooting up above the house now. Then he saw a pajama clad Dave Dillman fling his back door open and head straight to where the hose was connected. The man was shouting “no, no” as he frantically twisted the wheel.
The water shot from the hose as Ray drenched the burning house then the conflagration below it. The smoke grew denser and soon hid the horrified owner from his view.
By the time the fire truck arrived, the fire had been extinguished, but the scorched walls would serve as a reminder that a tragedy had been averted. Rosemary had awakened and come over to investigate the disturbance.
Ray was being hugged by Becca and shaking Dave’s hand when the owner said, ”We ate late, and I just had to have my steak grilled. I should never have left it so close to the house.”
A fireman next to the house got their attention.
“Is this where you turned the valve on?”
“Yes,” said Dave.
“Then when was this done?” the fireman asked, holding up the end of a hose that had a gaping hole where a connecter should have been.
They all looked in amazement at the nozzle still dripping in Ray’s hand. The fireman tugged on his end and Ray felt the hose torn from his hand.
“You couldn’t have gotten any water with this hose,” the fireman said, “it wasn’t even connected to the faucet.”
Ray stared at Dave and Becca as their eyes began to well with tears. “I’ve been meaning to get that fixed,” Dave said with a look of wonder.
The firemen had draped a silver blanket over Ray’s shoulders, and he still wore it as he and Rose walked back to their own home. He told her the voice he’d heard had brought him to the kitchen in the first place. Although he was freezing, his heart and mind were ablaze in search of a logical explanation for what had just happened.
He saw a pinpoint of light and realized he’d carried his Bible outside in his haste, and had discarded it on his race to the Dillman’s house. The Bible was splayed open facedown and the book light was very dim. He turned it off to preserve what little light was left.
He couldn’t see the pages in the dark, but he could sense their power.
Just as he carefully closed the Bible, a voice said, ”I tell you the truth, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life.”
They both heard it this time.
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