THAT IS NOT YOUR HUSBAND
My name is Grace. I was a young girl when I first met this wonderful couple. They quickly became an important part of my life. And I shall never forget them. No matter what.
Mrs Betty and her husband Mr. Dale live down the road apiece from us for over 20 years. And, had been together for over 57 years. She was 19 and he 22 on the day they were married. Mr. Dale thought that Mrs. Betty was the sun, moon, and all the stars. His eyes weren't big enough to hold her. Mrs. Betty thought that Mr. Dale was the sole reason for her existence.
She would say " without me that man would be naked and starving." They went everywhere together. You almost never saw one without the other. On my daily walks I just love to see those 2.
Mrs Betty, a lil old slender lady about 5 ft 3. She was very beautiful, and even at the age of 76, there was not a wrinkle to be found on her face. She, was usually in her garden. Pulling weeds, or planting some saplings. Her garden was as beautiful as she was, in and out of the seasons. That woman had a green thumb most the women around was envious of.
I enjoyed helping her during harvest times. She always gave us plenty for momma to cook, freeze and, can. While working with her in the garden, there were times she would stand up straight, with her eye set on Mr. Dale. And she would say " I believe it's sin to love a man so much. Everything that I am is for him. Even my breath." Coming back to herself, she'd put on her gloves and get back to work in the garden.
Mr. Dale was a tall lanky man. With a rugged look to him. His passion was the blues. He played them the whole time he'd be outside. I'll tell ya, That man had a hankering for a tankering. There was a plethora of toys he had collected over the years. Old cars, an assortment of lawnmowers, and weed eaters, several old bicycles, a couple of tractors, and some kind of doohickey that he had invented years back that was supposed to help you pick strawberries without having to bending over all of the time. Some worked, and some didn't. But, he would be tinkering with something or other all through the day, and the blues would be playing too. Sometimes, I would catch Mr. Dale just standing in his yard, looking at Mrs. Betty. There would be a slight smile on his face, his eyes smokey and full of desire for the only woman he had ever loved.
They were a giving kind of people. They both would help anybody in need. No matter who they were. I remember when momma got sick and had to be admitted to the hospital for a while. Everyday they would come over. Mrs. Betty would brings the most delicious meals for my brothers and I. And she made the best sweet potato pie. I think even better than momma's and that's a lot to say. Mr. Dale would bring his lawnmower, and rakes, gather up my brothers and keep momma's yard just the way she liked it. Mrs. Betty also took me to visit momma every morning at the hospital. She would tell me stories along the ride. I wasn't sure if I quite believed them all. But they were definitely interesting to listen to.
Everytime we went into momma's room. Momma would start to thank Mrs. Betty for all she and Mr. Dale were doing for her children and, for herself. Mrs. Betty would wave her hand back and forth saying " you just hush all that now Pastor Wilson, you've been there for me and Dale more times than I can count. Praying for us when we were sick. And that time when I broke my hip. You came over ever day. You bathed me, kept my house clean, and cooked for us. It's our pleasure to help you and them children Pastor. And Grace is just like a granddaughter of ours. I should steal her from ya, and never give her back." They both laughed.
Then momma said, :you can have her, but, I bet as after one night of that child talking you crazy, and asking all those absurd questions she has. You'd bring her back bright and early the next morning."
You could hear them laughing down the hall of the whole hospital. Personally I didn't think they were all that funny. I stood by the bed arms folded looking from one to the other. Hmph.
Well, anyhoo. Things were going along as usual. And, I could have never imagined how things would change. They would change so drastically, that it would never be the same down our little lane ever again. It was unusual cool for Louisiana, that morning in April. There was a deafening silence that Friday when I woke up. There was an eerie aura so thick you could cut it with a knife. I had just come into the livingroom, where momma was sitting in her big chair reading her bible. All of a sudden, I heard Mrs. Betty's voice cutting through the quiet of our lane. She came running, crying and screaming all at once. She ran up our steps and, stopped square in the middle of our livingroom, she was out of breath.
Looking straight at momma she cried out " I think Dale's dead. O' Lord, God help me. I think he's dead." Momma took off down the lane going as fast as her feet would as carry her. I grabbed hold of Mrs. Betty. Her body went limp in my arms. " He's gone. He's gone." She shrieked. I just held on to her as tight as I could and we cried together. It wasn't long before we heard the sounds of the ambulance coming down the road.
Mrs. Betty jumped up and ran home. I could hardly keep up with her, but, I tried. The people of the neighborhood had all gathered there in front of her house, and in the yard. Some where crying. All of us were hurting. Hurting for Mrs. Betty and for ourselves. Mrs. Betty wouldn't let them cover Mr. Dale's face with the sheet. She walked beside stretcher holding his hand as if she was waiting for him to get up somehow. When the medic closed the doors of the ambulance, Mrs. Betty hit the ground hard. She had passed out from the pressure of it all. The men picked her up with the greatest of care. She had been like a second mother to us all. Momma was patting her hand and calling out her name. The men place her on the sofa and, the ladies had put a cool face towel on her forehead and stood round bout her praying. She came to after a few minutes. Momma told her that God would take care of her.
Mrs. Betty look at momma with eyes that were as cold as ice and said these words that I will never ever forget " God took my Dale and I will never forgive Him for it." We all looked at each other, but no one said a word. Sometimes a person can be in so much pain, they can't think right. And, we all knew that Mrs. Betty was most definitely in that kind of pain.
Mr. Dale's funeral was 2 days later. Mrs. Betty cried throughout the entire sevice. When they interned his body at the grave site. Everyone had left, except Mrs. Betty, momma, and I. Mrs Betty, continued to sit in her chair as if she was glued to it. She just sat there, starring at the ground, where Mr. Dale's body laid. Just starring at it, as if she was unable to move. Momma just sat there beside her old friend. Momma told her, "we can sit here as long as you need to Betty." Mrs. Betty never said a word.
Not a soul knew what to do or how to do, to help Mrs. Betty in the days that followed. You could feel the tangible hurt that fell on our little lane. The music that we had heard everyday for over 20 years was gone. Mrs. Betty, grieved so hard, it caused her to lose almost 20 pounds in a month. Her eyes were sunkened, she looked weak, and frail. There was a lost look in her eyes all the time. And momma noticed that she had stopped coming to church altogether. Momma would say as she was closing service "let us keep Betty Thibodeau in our prayers." Old friends and neighbors, including my momma, would visit her everyday. Trying to comfort her in her time of sorrow. And trying to convince Mrs. Betty to eat.
"You need to eat something Betty " they all would say.
" Dale wouldn't want you to be suffering so, honey,"
Mrs. Betty, Just sat there at her kitchen table. And she kept on saying, "Dale left me behind. I was supposed to go first. I was the sickest." Face in hands she would sob horribly.
Momma said " the sickest ain't always the closest to the grave Betty. But I know that you know, to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord" momma would say.
One time Mrs. Betty answered back. "The Lord doesn't need him, I do." "Don't say such things like that Betty"
Momma scolded. " The Lord is not to be mocked" momma added.
None of us knew it then, but that was the beginning of Mrs. Betty sliding down a slippery slope she wouldn't be able to return from.
About a week later, as I was taking my daily walk, talking to my neighbors as I went along. I saw Mrs. Betty coming out of Sha Coretta's door. I pondered on why she would be in that devil's servant house. That's what momma called her. When I got home I grabbed one of the orange cream soda, momma kept in the fridge just for me. I went out to sit on the front step to enjoy it's sweetness. I saw Mrs. Betty headed back to Sha Coretta's house. She had a pot in her hands and a grocery bag with clothes in it hanging from her left wrist. Now, Sha Coretta was a woman that momma never cared much for. Momma said that Sha Coretta had made a deal with a demon early on in her life. A deal she could never renege on. Momma said that the deal was that he, the demon that is, would give her the powers of the dark world. Powers to cast spells, summon demons for her bidding, and mixing potions, which she sold to the most desperate of souls. Momma said that there was a special place in hell designated just for Sha Coretta. I knew then that this was not going to turn out good for poor grieving Mrs. Betty.
The very next evening on my walk, I could see Mrs. Betty standing in her kitchen talking to someone. She had smile on face as wide as the Mississippi River. Anxious to see what had her in such a good mood, I hurried to get where's I could see through her front door. When I came in front of her house, I looked into her kitchen, what I saw sent a cold chill straight through me. I froze, in my place, starring at the man sitting at Mrs. Betty's kitchen table. It was Mr. Dale. I couldn't believe it. How could this be? When Mrs. Betty realized that I was standing there. She glared at me with eyes so full of hate, that it made me take a few steps back. She got up and slammed her front door closed.
All kinds of thoughts ran through my mind, as walked the rest of the way home. I wondered if Mr. Dale had a twin brother that none of us ever knew about. Maybe he was their son that never came to visit them in all the entire time I'd known them. I thought to myself, that he sure looked the spitting image of his father, Mr. Dale. When I got home, I went to the fridge to get my orange cream soda. And, I told momma all about what I had just seen. My mother bowed her head and shook it from side to side.
Then she said in a low voice, "people keep on playing with the devil. Not realizing that it would always cost them a pound of flesh. There's no grace and mercy in his vocabulary. What has this witch done now Lord?" raising her hands to the heavens she turned and walked away. With my soda in hand I headed out to the porch, and took my usual spot. It was dusk dark, about 8:45 in the evening.
Just as I was taking a seat on the steps, from the corner of my eye, I caught a shot of Mrs. Betty headed back over to Sha Coretta's house. She had that same pot in her hands and a grocery bag of clothes hanging from her left wrist. She knocked at the door, looking right and left to see if anyone was watching, then she locked eyes on me sitting on my porch. She gave me a scouring look that turned the sweet taste in my mouth bitter. Just then, the door opened and Mrs. Betty went in. This happened every night for the next 2 weeks. Mrs. Betty, with a pot and a bag of clothes headed to Sha Coretta's door. And I saw Mr. Dale sitting at the kitchen table, at Mrs. Betty's house each evening as I walked by. With that same smile that was, as wide as the Mississippi River.
It was a Friday morning that I felt as though something just wouldn't right. I couldn't shake the feeling that crept over me. Whenever I had passed by Mrs. Betty's house a chill would come over me. A chill so deep I could feel it in my bones. And, Momma kept praying all day. Playing her gospel music and singing to the Lord. Which, always signaled something was amiss. That night, I couldn't seem to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. And, I was wide awake when the phone ranged at about 3 in the morning. I never liked when the phone ranged at that time of the morning. It was never anything good.
I could hear momma saying, " I'll come and help." I heard the heavy receiver go down."
"Grace" my mom called out, "get the blessed oil both our bibles and my cross off the alter and come with me"
I put on my robe and slippers, grabbed the items she said from the alter, then followed her out the door.
More than once, I had heard momma leave our house around 3 a.m.. Her bible, blessed oil and cross in hand. When she would return home, more often times than not, she would kneel at the alter. I could hear her talking to the Lord, saying, "forgive them Father they don't know any better, or, Lord I understand that what they did was wrong, and they have sinned so much against you. I'm begging you Father God, to please have mercy on them, and forgive them."
But, this time on one of momma's after midnight doings, I was with her. And I, kept wishing I could just go back home where I felt safe. There was a sickening in the pit of my belly. I would have much rathered be back in my bed trying to sleep. Well, We walked up the lane towards the top.
My mom looked over at Sha Coretta's house and said, " I'm sure tired of cleaning up that woman's devilment." I was about to find out why momma always said that about Sha Coretta.
When my mom turned at Mrs. Betty's house. Fear struck in me and I came to a complete halt. Mom had went on for a few steps before she noticed that I was no longer beside her. "come child" she whispered to me with a sternness in her voice. I knew better than to disobey. I swallowed so hard, the lump in my throat made a sound.
"no need to be scared" she said. " satan ain't got nothing the good Lord can't handle " shaking her bible and cross in the air towards heaven.
Clinching my bible tightly to my chest, I followed hesitantly. I really wished I could just go back home. As we drew neigh unto Mrs. Betty's house. I could hear Mrs.
Betty crying out " stop it, don't do that, Lord help me and help me Lord"
mom said "now she wants the Lord to help her" gave a chuckle, shook her head and knocked on Mrs. Betty's door.
Mrs. Betty ran to the door throwing it open, then she cried out, "please help me Pastor Wilson."
When we walked in, my jaw dropped in amazement, my eyes grew as big as saucers. Her house had been ransacked. Dishes were broken all over the kitchen. Chairs thrown down, in the livingroom I saw the sofa flipped over, the TV was busted, and pictures were broken all over the floor. There were what looked to be claw marks on the wall and the recliner was ripped to shreds. After taking a good look around.
Momma turned to Mrs. Betty and asked, "where is it?"
" my husband is in the bedroom" Mrs. Betty replied pointing a finger down the hallway.
My mom looked angrily at her and said "that is not your husband, your husband is dead"
Mrs. Betty collapsed to the floor, tears falling like rain from her eyes.
Turning to me, my mom said "follow me child, you best start learning what it means to fight evil in its truest form." Blessed oil and cross in one hand and her bible in the other, she headed for the bedroom Mrs. Betty had pointed to. I could hear my heart beating in my ears as I followed.
When mom opened the door, my thumping heart fell to my stomach. There before my eyes, was something that looked exactly like Mr. Dale sitting on the bed. It begin to beg my mom to leave it alone,. "I'm not bothering you" it said. " she called me here. Why are you here woman of God. Leave me alone." my mom didn't answer.
She started sprinkling the blessed oil all over the room and on that thing.
Saying in a authoritative tone, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. I command you back to the pit of hell came from. Back to your sender."
It groaned low and deep. Then it said, "she called me here, she wants me here." Momma never said a word back to it. As momma went around the room. She saw the bag of clothes sitting in the corner near that thing that looked like Mr. Dale. Momma put blessed oil on her had and picked up. Searching through it she found a necklace made of green glass it was hollowed, filled with some funny kind of liquid, and a head of a serpent was on one end and the tail of it was in it's own mouth.
That thing began to scream "no, no," began to vibrate really fast.
Momma threw it on the floor and stomp on it. That things face began to turn in and out of shape. Momma threw some blessed oil on it, it let a holler and evaporated slowly and was gone. The house was so quiet and still I could hear the crickets in the yard.
Momma and I walked back to the front of the house. Mrs. Betty was still sitting on the floor crying asked momma, " is my husband gone?"
In a tone louder than normal voice my mom answered " that is not your husband. Your husband is dead Betty. The dead has no knowledge.
"Mrs. Betty, hung her shoulders shaking up and down, looking up at momma she said, "I can't live without him Pastor Wilson. I don't want to live without him. This isn't fair. God's not merciful like you say. If He was He wouldn't have taken my Dale away from me. And I'll never forgive Him for it."
Momma put her hand on the shoulders of her longtime friend and said these word. " Betty I love you like a sister. You've been a member of my church since God called it. But, this has gone to far nah. Dale was God's child long before Dale was your husband. We can't tell God when He can or can't call one His own home to glory Betty."
I could see the this didn't sit well with Mrs. Betty. There was a rage building up inside her, shoulders heaving she bursted out, "I won't give him up Pastor Wilson. I won't" there was a kind of growling sound that seemed intertwined with her voice.
It was visible, the hurt in momma's eyes. "I can see that you've made up your mind about it Betty. Just know that this is the one and only time I will help you with this. I know you miss Dale. But, this is deadly stuff you're messing with. Sha Coretta is damned to hell for her sins against God. Betty" mom took Mrs. Betty's face in her hands, "Dale is in heaven, and you're headed straight for hell." Mom turned and walked out the door and I was right behind her. I looked back at poor Mrs. Betty, she looked at me. And I could see in her eyes that she wasn't through, and this, wasn't over.
On our way home mom looked over at Sha Coretta's house and said,, "I don't know why people who say they're Christians keep going to the devil's servants to solve their problems and to cure their pains. Lord have mercy on them all." It would be later on, that Sha Coretta would be burned alive in that old rickety house. Her and all the money she had contrived from the hurting of others. Jessa, Sha Coretta's daughter and Nikki her granddaughter had gotten out just in the nik of time. They tried with all their might, and they couldn't save Sha Coretta. But, that's a story for another day.
For the next couple of days, I didn't take my usual evening walk. I didn't quite know what to think about all that I had happened 2 day earlier. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. And all that I had seen was invading my sleep. Whenever I closed my eyes I would see the face of that thing that looked so much like Mr. Dale. I wondered if they had one of those things that looked just like me. Did everyone have one? It kept rolling around in my mind. Now, I knew that evil was real. But, I had never seen it manifested in such a fashion before. I mean, It looked just like Mr. Dale, and I knew that the Mr. Dale that I had known, was dead and buried.
On the morning of the 3rd day after our visit to Mrs. Betty's house. I walked in the kitchen. My mom was standing at the stove cooking breakfast. She turned to me and said, " I saw Betty coming out of Sha Coretta's house last night. I figured that she wouldn't leave this thing alone. Go down to her house. Grace, make sure, that Betty doesn't see you, now you hear. I want you to get up to the kitchen window, look in and tell me what you see."
I got dressed and headed that way. I could see Mrs. Betty's face through the window above her kitchen sink.
And Mrs. Betty again was talking to someone, with that same wide as the Mississippi River smile on her face. I ducked down in a hurry behind her car. I tipped slowly and quietly, keeping below the ledge of the window until I reached where I could peer in. I waited until I heard her footsteps go towards her kitchen table and, I peeped in. I had to cover my mouth with both of my hands, when I almost hollered at what I saw. There it was again, the thing that looked so much like Mr. Dale. Mrs. Betty had that pot, she had took over to Sha Coretta's house. She place a plate on the table in front of it. Then, she opened up the pot and scooped some really nasty looking stuff on the plate. And it began to eat. The drinking glass had what looked to be blood in it. I think Mrs. Betty could feel me looking in cause, she turned her head towards the window. I ducked down fast and tippingly ran until I was out of her range of sight. Then I ran full stride the rest of the way home.
" mooommmmmaaaa" I screamed running into our livingroom. " it's back, It's sitting there at her table." I said breathlessly. I explained everything I had just seen.
Momma just hung her head and said "I thought so, I could feel it's evil presence. It's stronger this time." She continued with "I know that Betty is feeling an awful pain in her heart. But, is taking it too far."
Momma went to the alter, knelt and began to pray. I joined her. Knowing that the thing that looked like Mr. Dale was angry with momma for interfering. Momma blessed our house from front to back. With blessed oil. Then mom went out and blessed our whole yard.
She even blessed the animals and the car. "The devil can jump into anything" she said " even things without life in it." I knew this was true because, I had seen that happen before. But, this here situation was blowing my mind.
One week later at about 3 a.m. the phone ranged. I jumped out of bed and ran to my momma's room. She answered the phone. I could hear poor Mrs. Betty screaming on the other end. "Pastor Wilson he's trying to kill me, I'm locked in the bathroom and my husband's kicking and clawing at it. Trying to get at me. Help me please Pastor, pleeeaassee!" She screamed. My mom said in a still calm voice, " I came once. And you called it back. If I come again, you will call it again. Each time you call it back it gets stronger. You have dominion over it. Tell it to leave in the same manner you heard me use."
Mrs. Betty cried back. " I did try to send him back, just as you did. But, he laughed at me and called me a fool. Oh please help me I promise I won't call him again."
Momma knew she was lying because she told her. " Betty you're still talking about it like it's a human being, by calling it your husband. I'm going to say this again. THAT IS NOT YOUR HUSBAND!" Mrs. Betty did even pay that statement no tention. " Please Pastor Wilson, I will never do it again. Mrs. Betty begged. Momma took a deep breath, then said " I'll tell you what to do. You go back over to Sha Coretta's. Tell her, that the demon that she sent to you, is trying to kill you."
After momma hung up the phone, she went to the alter knelt and began to pray. I, on the other hand, ran to the front porch and stood back in the corner our of sight.
And sure enough, Mrs. Betty was running over to Sha Coretta's house. She knocked on the door in a feverish manner, for a few minutes. But, Sha Coretta never answered. Mrs. Betty headed back home. I had wondered how she got pass that thing in her house.
The next morning when I woke. I could hear sirens coming from down the lane. I saw momma standing on the porch hand on hip, looking towards the top of lane. I came to stand beside her. When I looked at her face I saw tears slowly falling down.
"What's wrong momma?" I asked. Momma turned slowly to walk back inside. With her head bowed low, she said. "Mrs. Betty is dead. Now she is with her beloved Dale in Heaven."
I walked down the road to Mrs. Betty's house. There were cops all around, and they had taped of the area around the side of her home. As I got closer I could legs hanging out of the bathroom window. It was Mrs Betty. The police said that her body was hang half in and half out of the bathroom window. And that she had claw marks unlike anything they had ever seen before. It was the very first murder to ever happen where we lived. But, the police had no suspects. I had asked momma when I got back home, should I have said anything about that creature that looked like Mr. Dale.
Momma said "if you do you'll be in the lunny bin by lunch " not wanting go to that place, I kept my mouth closed.
About a month after Mrs. Betty had been killed. I saw a strange car parked in her driveway. Being a nosey bug, as my momma would call me. I went over to see who it was. The man stood at about the same height as Mr. Dale. But, when he turned to look as t me, all I could see was Mrs. Betty's face with a manly touch to it.
I said hello, are you Mr. and Mrs. Thibodeau's son?"
The handsome man smiled and said yes. I just had to ask him, why had not ever visited his mom and dad. The man, who said his name is DJ, short for Dale Jr. told me this exact statement.
He said " Betty and Dale had a relationship so close, and a love for other that was so strong, that not even their own child had a chance to share it with them. Betty gave me to my grandmother when I was 4 days old. She and Dale drove off and never came back. They would send me presents at Christmas and on my birthday. And grandma got a check in the mail every month. But they didn't never want to see me again. My grandmother raised me. Knowing who my real parents were. But, she was the only mother I ever knew."
I walked into the old house behind him. And it was a terrible scene. It was way worser, than what I had seen that night momma and I came over here. There were holes in the walls. The kitchen cabinets were ripped off. The furniture couldn't be salvaged by any means. Even the beds had been clean through. DJ asked me if I had known what had happened. Thinking back on what momma had told me. I politely lied and said no sir.
As I walked down the lane back home. I knew that nothing in my life was ever the same for me again. I also knew that, that wouldn't be the last time I would have to deal with that kind of evil. And it wasn't. Momma had started, taking me with her every time she went out on those late night excursions. And learned so more about exactly how evil workings could cause all manner of things to happen. My faith in God increased daily. I guess you can. It was the realization of how real evil worked, that proved to me just how powerful, awesome, merciful and kind, my God truly is. He has never ever left, and He's never ever failed me. And wherever God leads me, I will follow.
