In the Darkness, God Sees

I watch Jessica sit on the edge of an old green army cot with her long brown hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her pink tank top is wrinkled, and her blue jeans have a tear in the right knee. It has been a long time since she has needed me. I know she does not remember me pulling her from the river when she was only two, or stopping her from flying out the window during a car accident when she was ten. She does not know me, but I know her. I have been watching over her from birth, waiting for this pivotal moment, praying when the time comes she will make the right choice. My hope has not been strong these past few years. Last night I knew the time had come for me to help once more.

I watch as she holds her head in the palms of her hands. She groans with a sickening groan that I have become accustomed to every time she has a hangover. She blinks focusing her eyes on her surroundings. I am certain that she is confused. She might remember walking home late last night after getting sick on her friends shoes, and maybe even will remember someone asked her if she wanted a ride. “Do I know you?” she had asked. She was so drunk she just opened the door and climbed inside after getting sick again. I wonder if she even looked at the men in the van she climbed into.

Now, she is in here with me. Jessica will soon realize that she is not at home. She will begin to grasp that this cold, dark, damp room lit only by a small window is a place of sorrow. She will see the low ceiling of wooden boards and joists, the building brick or half cement and half dirt walls, the concrete floor with a drain in the center, and the tiny rectangular window showing the grass. We are in a Michigan basement irregularly shaped and most likely added after the cabin was already built.

I watch her head quickly move around the room. She is finally alarmed. Any moment, I will watch her run up the concrete steps to the wooden door and bang her body against it, but it is bolted from the outside and she is not strong enough to break it down.

"Get out!” I whisper near her ear to get her motivated. Jessica jumps and looks around franticly wondering who is talking. I know her actions from the previous night have brought her here, but I feel sorry for her anyway. She still cannot see me. I have not made myself visible to her yet. When I do, she will not see me for who I really am, unless she decides to believe.

She stands suddenly without noticing the low ceiling, and she pounds her head into it. She falls back onto the cot with a grunt. Tears roll from her eyes and she dabs the spot with her fingers checking for blood.

"Get out!" I whisper again a bit louder. Jessica turns with surprise looking in the direction of my voice but sees no one. The pounding of her heart fills the room and she covered her ears to muffle the sound. She runs unsteadily toward concrete steps ducking so she does hit her head on the ceiling again. She darts up the concrete steps to the door. She bangs on it and rams her body into the wood, but it does not budge. She hears laughing coming from the other side of the door. She puts her ear to it listening for understandable words among the mumbling sounds vibrating through the wood. She calls out to the men on the other side of the door.

“Shut up down there you walking piece of meat,” shouts a bad-tempered, low sounding, male voice. She bangs on the door again.

“I said stop that banging before I come down there and make you stop.” She begins to panic.

"Dig,” I say over the noise of her heartbeat. Jessica descends the stairs and searches for a place to dig. Her eyes settle on the half dirt wall located to the left of the stairs and across from the window.

I watch her scrape her nails into the hardened dirt and continue clawing until a small hole is formed. As tears mix with the dirt on her cheeks, I think of the behavior she exhibited the night before she awoke in this basement cell. All she worried about then was getting back at her parents by drinking, hanging with friends they did not approve of, and having a good time. She thought nothing about what her behavior would cost her, she did not even consider the pain her partying caused her mother, and she did not care how empty and alone she felt the next morning after a night like that.

When I hear her mumbling aloud, “Oh God, oh God, help me,” I know that it is time to show myself. I will give her what she asks for, help. The hole is almost dug through to the other side of the wall where she will not find an escape.

I walk through the wall to the other side and understand God’s intentions immediately. I make myself visible and wait for Jessica to discover me.

"Forgive me Lord," Jessica whispers.

"What did you do?" A voice answers from the other side of the wall. Jessica digs faster to widen the pin hole of light. She pushes dirt away from around the tiny hole by punching the small light shining through the hole. She peers through the hole she created with her fingers and fist and glimpses another room.

"Hello," she called into the room on the other side of the wall trying not to disturb the angry men upstairs. "Is there anyone in there? Can someone help me please? I can’t get the door open and I’m trapped.” She continues to push dirt away from the tiny hole widening it and straining her neck to get a better look into the room on the other side.

“Don’t be afraid yet,” a soft female voice replies from the other side of the wall. Jessica pushes more dirt aside to get a better look and to see the author of the voice. The hole is almost big enough to stick her head through. She can see a room lit with only a single light bulb hanging down from the ceiling. She crumbles more dirt around the hole until she can see the wooden boards of the floor above and the outline of a trap door. The walls and the floor are tightly packed, dark colored dirt. It reminds Jessica of the old movies she watched with her parents where people dug hiding places in the floor and covered the trap door with a rug. She notices a huddle of young oriental looking girls against one of the dirt walls. They all have long brown hair, tan colored skin, and slanted eyes, and are dressed in beautiful gowns with colorful patters. They are sleeping in a huddle on the floor against the dirt wall.

“What do you mean by not being afraid yet?” Jessica wipes her hands on her blue jeans and uses her shirt to wipe her mud streaked face. She sees a young woman step in front of the hole she had dug wearing a bright white gown that fills Jessica with a sense of hope. The young woman’s long, black hair flows past her shoulders; her dark colored thin face contrasts her bright green eyes. Jessica locks the bright green eyes with her own for a moment and is overwhelmed with an unfamiliar feeling. The feeling of immense guilt rises in her gut and she looks away.

“When they dress you like them,” the woman says pointing to the five sleeping young girls, “then you need to worry, because that is when you are ready to be sold.”

Jessica's heart stops beating. She quivers down to her bones. She remembers hearing a news program about child trafficking, but she never actually considered that it could happen in small town West Branch, if indeed she was still in West Branch. She never imagined it could ever happen to her. Jessica loses all feeling in her legs, and she drops to the damp basement floor and wails. She sits on floor staring at the cold damp cement; her back leans against the wall with the hole, and watches the room grow darker as a cloud covers the sun.

The temperature in the basement drops, and Jessica turns from wailing to weeping and from crying to silent. Her blue jeans stick to her legs making her feel even colder. “God,” she whispers. “Get me out.” As she finishes her words, the room grows warmer and a small light shines from the other room. Jessica stands and looks for the source of the light. All she sees is the woman standing in front of the hole she had dug now digging herself and making the hole larger.

"Why are you still digging?” Jessica asks the woman. “There's no hope of escape." She listens to heavy footsteps pace the floor above.

"You have a window. If we can get into the light, we will be saved.” Jessica turns around and notices the window for the first time. It is small and rectangular, but unlocked. She looks at the girls in the other room huddled on the floor. The girls in the other room are thinner, but she is sure she can fit through it as well. For the first time, since seeing the woman in the white dress, hope sparks in her heart. She turns back to the wall and resumes digging.

“My name is Jessica,” she says to the woman on the other side of wall as they work together to break away the wall between them. The woman locks eyes with her again.

“Zofeya,” she says seeming to work faster.

“Zofeya,” Jessica repeats. “What nationality is that?” Large pieces fall to the floor and break into dust at their feet. The hole is above waist high to the girls, but concrete stops them from digging any closer to the floor.

“Hebrew,” she answers breaking a large piece of wall away.


“What does it mean in Hebrew?”

“It means, God sees.”

“God sees what?” Jessica pauses from digging a moment anticipating the answer.

“Everything,” was not the answer she expected.

“I don’t believe in God,” she feels ashamed as the words come out of her mouth. She does not want to offend the woman who is helping her escape.

“He believes in you,” Zofeya responds without hesitation. Jessica does not react, instead opting to work in silence.

The hole in the wall is now large enough for the girls and Zofeya to squeeze through. Zofeya gently speaks to the sleeping girls waking them. She and Jessica help them one by one climb through the hole into the basement where the window is located. The five oriental girls huddle together again on the side of the wall where Jessica can see for the first time the length of the white gown that Zofeya is wearing. It flows all the way to her bare feet. She gains a sense of hope again just looking at it. Zofeya’s skin is smooth and without wrinkles or lines. Jessica can see wisdom in her eyes and her demeanor. She is uncertain why Zofeya makes her feel hopeful, but she appreciates the comfort.

Jessica studies the window looking for a way to open it without making noise. She has heard no footsteps on the floor above for some time making her believe they may be alone, but she cannot be sure. The men could be sleeping, or worse, outside. She picks up the bed end and pushes it slowly toward the window trying to be careful not to let the wooden legs scrape too loudly on the concrete. The bed creates a loud scraping sound that causes all the girls to freeze and stiffen. Zofeya lifts the other end causing the scraping noise to stop. Together they position the cot under the window.

Jessica climbs onto the cot putting one foot on each wooden leg and looks out the window ducking as not to hit her head on the floor boards. Dried brown leaves spiral in circles near the window and scoot across a bed of wilting flowers. A fire pit smokes from an ill maintained fire, with large fallen trees laid around it, located a few hundred yards past the tornado of leaves. Trees stand just beyond the smoking fire clutching leaves that have not yet fallen.

Jessica reaches out to try the latch, and opens it easily. She slowly pulls the window inward as far as it will open. She aids the five girls, who stay huddled together, out the window first. Their slim, frail bodies fit through the narrow window with ease. Jessica, unsure she will have as easy of a time offers to go last. Zofeya climbs up onto the cot and reaches for the window. They both freeze and turn toward the basement door. The lock turns and the door begins to squeak. Zofeya speaks urgently to the five huddled outside the window. Jessica does not even notice Zofeya finish climbing out of the window.

“Hurry, get up here,” she hears a whisper. She turns toward the whisper seeing Zofeya reaching her arms through the window coaxing her out. Jessica stands paralyzed with her hands clutching the window sill. The heavy footsteps on the concrete steps amplify off the basement walls drowning out the sound of Jessica’s quickening heart. Jessica’s body is paralyzed with fear. Eyes glued to the steps, Jessica sees brown, camoflague pants, and the butt of a rifle. Blood rushes to her head and Zofeya grabs her arms and pulls her hard out the window.

Jessica feels as though she is watching this happening to her from a distance instead of being in her body feeling it happen. As she starts to slide back through the window, her feeling returns. Something pulls her foot, wraps tightly around her leg, and holds on with such strength she is sure it will crush her bones. The sun beams rays directly into her eyes and she welcomes it. The cool fall breeze stings her face slapping her with a leaf as it passes by waking her from her petrified state. She begins to kick at the thing that has her foot. She does not want to go back into that dark, damp basement. She kicks harder and struggles to free herself from its grasp. She shoots forward free from the crushing grasp, only then realizing she is screaming.

“God help me!” over and over in a voice that terrifies her. She scuttles to her feet stopping to see a man with neatly trimmed dark black hair, brown eyes, and black rimmed glasses wearing a hunting suit. The darkness in his features makes Jessica grab onto Zofeya’s robe.

Zofeya shakes Jessica to reality and the seven girls run to the woods for safety. Jessica cannot get the dark feeling of the man in the basement out of her mind. The girls hear yells of angry men behind them coming from the house they had just escaped. The leaves crunch on the forest path behind the girls getting closer as they run. A building just ahead offers hope for the fleeing girls. The girls run into a century old forgotten church. The sun shines through a hole in the ceiling directly on the altar, wood rots in rows that once were pews, dried brown leaves shuffle across the creaking wooden floor, and molded boards cover the windows. There is no escape.

The door swings open and three men with dark features and hunting gear storm into the church. Jessica stands at the altar in the sunlight with the frightened girls behind her. The darkness Jessica felt when looking back into the basement fills the church. Three rifles are pointed at her chest.

“You wench,” says the low male voice she had heard while in the basement. He was the same man of gloom who had tried to pull her back into darkness.

“This time, I won’t be so nice and give you a bed to sleep in.” his eyes burrow into Jessica’s soul. She searches for the sight of Zofeya for comfort, but does not see her.

“Or,” he says with a smile so sinister that Jessica has to look away. “Or you can die.” The girls behind Jessica whimper, huddled together on the floor. Jessica looks up into the rays of the sun feeling hope return. She remembers her prayers in the basement, the words of Zofeya God sees, God believes in you. “Pray,” she hears in her ear. It is Zofeya’s voice but she cannot see her.

Oh, God! Forgive me, she prays falling to her knees on the altar staring into the sun.

“Believe and you’ll be saved,” she hears Zofeya say.

“I believe,” she says.

“I don’t care what you believe,” says the man of darkness standing in the doorway. “No one cares for the girls you are protecting. You think we had to trick them into a van like we did you? No, their families sold them! Give them to me, then follow me or die.”

“God is my strength and my deliverer, in him will I trust,” Zofeya’s words comfort Jessica. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” Jessica looks across the church at the man of darkness and tears blur her vision. Bravery washes over her and she stands to her feet.

“I’ll die,” Jessica responds to the rifle. She sees evil dance in the man’s eyes and a BOOM! reverberates off the wall of the church.

I’m going to die is the only thought that comes to her mind. It does not shout in her mind, or send a series of cautionary signals. It is just a thought. Short. Simple. Absolute. Her body numbs and she does not feel herself hit the floorboards. She watches an ant crawl across a golden leaf on the floor. Time has stilled. The frightened girls have vanished from her vision. The evil darkness blocking the doorway has dissipated into sunlight. The ant climbs off the leaf onto the wooden floor.

“God is a rewarder of those who love him,” she hears Zofeya say from a large distance.

I love him, she thinks. I love you God. The ant disappears into darkness.

Jessica stands next to Zofeya and looks down at her body lying on the forgotten church floor, blood expanding from her pink top.

“Am I dead, Zofeya?” she asks not turning to look at her but noticing the white robe she herself now is wearing.

“Are you afraid?” Zofeya asks her.

“You told me not to be as long as I believe.” She turns now looking into Zofeya’s eyes. “God sent me you, an angel. No, I’m not afraid.” The words leave her lips so slowly that she wonders if time has stopped.

“No, you are not dead. God keeps his promises.” Zofeya watches her look turn to a confused one. “You will live,” She reassures Jessica.

“Why did God let this happen?” she watches the frightened girls struggle in the grasp of the men who intend to sell them.

“God sees,” Zofeya comforts her. “We will all understand someday.”

“But who will save them?” she asks tears streaming down her face for the five girls kicking to free themselves as they are dragged out of the church.

“Hopefully, you will.” She studies Zofeya’s face with concern, but understanding washes over her. She nods her head in agreement.

Jessica watches as a man enters the church talking to her body on the floor. She does not know how much time has passed. He yells to someone outside the door but she cannot understand his words. Sirens resound outside the church.

“Thank you,” Jessica says as she returns to herself and gasps for air. The ant returns to view with a small black berry on his back. Many voices soon fill the church and life quickly surrounds her. She watches the ant disappear through a crack in the floorboards.

“Don’t ever feel alone,” Zofeya whispers in her ear. “Remember, God sees.” Zofeya stays at her side and watches as she is carried away to safety. She will continue to silently watch over her until she is needed again.