Author's note:  "I wrote this story back in 1993 - are you getting it that some of these short stories are from my archive? - and, most likely contains the same disregard for the proper techniques of writing short stories as other older/earlier works.  Sorry, I did it again.  One day I just might go back and edit/rewrite these short stories.  Until then, and until you actually pay me for reading a perfect work, please settle for these freebies. ;) "

II

T H E  P R O M I S E 

I Cor 7:12-16 "....If any brother has a wife who does not believe, and she is willing to live with him, let him not divorce her. {13} And a woman who has a husband who does not believe, if he is willing to live with her, let her not divorce him. {14} For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband; otherwise your children would be unclean, but now they are holy. {15} But if the unbeliever departs, let him depart; a brother or a sister is not under bondage in such cases. But God has called us to peace. {16} For how do you know, O wife, whether you will save your husband? Or how do you know, O husband, whether you will save your wife?"


He had her on the bed. He was holding down her arms with his knees. She was kicking - screaming - wanting to bite him if she could get her head up close enough. One knee caught him squarely on his backbone and he jerked.

Now he had grabbed her hair above the forehead and pulled it back. Her neck twitched as her head turned. Her nightshirt was ripped at the shoulder, partly exposing her breasts.

He pointed the pistol at her face and would have pulled the trigger.

==================================

It wasn't always like that.

She had come to really need him. She was dependant upon him. She needed his touch. His presence.

He was the kindest, gentlest man she ever knew. He worked hard. He was rugged in features, and handsome. She wooed over him like a teenage girl over her rock-n-roll idol.

They met at the office party. She had just mentioned to her girl friend how gorgeous he was when he looked in their direction. She flushed. Could he hear them talking across the room?

The few days of advancing toward one another quickly passed into weeks of intimacy. They were perfectly fitted. The greatest attraction was how embarrassed she felt about how she was so madly, passionately and irresistibly head-over-heels and wildly in love with him - and she couldn't keep it hidden. Her countenance glowed just thinking about him.

She would give herself to him forever. Everything.

He became a Vice-President. She became a Mother.

He began to drink too much. She began to worry.

He became too involved in his work. He would miss dinner. 

Their son had no Father.

She became lonely - and, oh, how she missed those earlier days.

So, she became a Christian.

It was great! Things looked up.

He didn't seem to mind at first. But, she soon realized that he simply hadn't noticed. Oh, she told him. She even dragged him to Church on a few Sundays. Boy, was she proud of him! She would grab his arm and introduce him to her new friends. She would beam with wifely respect.

Now she enjoyed him more than ever.

But, that didn't last.

One day she got "the Call". The call that broke her heart. It couldn't be true. Not my man. It may happen to other women. And other men may be unfaithful. But, no! Could it be? How? Why?

She loved him, but hated him when he told her the terrible truth. Somehow she knew how much he was hurting the day he walked out the door. She knew he didn't want to hurt her. So, why was he leaving? She knew - no - prayed that he'd come back. She had to have him. She needed him. Life was over without him.


One day the door bell rang. It was him. He looked awful. She fixed him up. She loved him. She found her life again.

She felt so sorry for him, that he had been left alone by that miserable woman who stole him away from her in the first place.

And she certainly wasn't going to pay any mind to the Church Counselor who said she shouldn't be yoked with an unbeliever. She was going to save his soul. 

She loved him. Forever.

And he had learned his lesson. Too good, he had learned it. Heaven! It was heaven. Beer, Two waiters (a son and a wife)... Easy Street.

Then he found cocaine.

He became demanding. Violent. Needful. Beyond help.

And it just got worse.

Leave him, came the demands from well-meaners.

Your life may be in danger if you stay there, came the cautious ones.

She didn't believe any of them. Sure a few bruises now and then. And his unemployment check was spent before he got home. But, no danger.

He was the most wonderful, elegant and caring man. He was her every need. He would get back on top one day.

She would never leave him - ever.

She would never give up.


But, she did have a plan.

It was a promise in the Bible. She found it on her own. Someone had said it didn't apply to her situation. 

And someone else had said she didn't have the proper theological interpretation. But she didn't care about those things. It was her promise.

Somewhere, between her promise and the bed, she snapped.

It was a long time coming. She held it in far too long. It certainly wasn't part of the plan, but it was as uncontrollable as her great desire for her husband. As surely as she had loved him through thick and thin and nothing had extinguished her love for him, so nothing on earth could have kept her from that moment in the bedroom.

"NO!" she said.

She hardly believed she said it. In fact, she wanted to pull the word back into her mouth and down into her heart. But, she meant it.

He had crawled, stumbled, into bed, as he had learned to do lately. Beer breath and drug-glazed eyes. His hands began to move up and down her body, as they always had. She would absolutely and blissfully succumb to his touch - in times past.

But, tonight was different.

He reacted immediately to her denial. He must have thought she was teasing.

She was serious. He was drug-crazed. She wiggled. He wrestled. She slapped him - she felt good about it.

But, he lost it.

He left the room. She cried.

So much for your promise, Lord. She feared her anger against God.

There was a scream from the hallway. My Son! She sat up in bed.

A strange man came into her room. Who was he? And why did he have a gun?

He grabbed her nightshirt at her chest and lifted her up. He was virile, powerful. She loved him once. But, now she was about to die.

He threw her on the bed. He was holding down her arms with his knees. She was kicking - screaming - wanting to bite him if she could get her head up close enough. One knee caught him squarely on his backbone and he jerked. 

Now he had grabbed her hair above the forehead and pulled it back. Her neck twisted as her head turned. Her nightshirt was ripped at the shoulder, partly exposing her breasts.

He pointed the pistol at her face and would have pulled the trigger.

This is it, she thought. 

No! Wait a second. This is it! He's fighting for me. He does love me. This is all we need. He needs to know he can only have me if he fights for me. Just like I have fought for him.

She looked down the short barrel of the gun. His hand was shaking and his face was red with anger.

She saw the young man across the room who had wooed her so many years ago.

Lying there, she had the most pleasant, calm smile on her face. She couldn't move her arms and her breasts were hurting from the weight of his body.

I love you, she said.


the end

end of Chapter (click here to go to Chapter 3)- if link is not active, the chapter is not yet ready.  Check back later, please.

Please let me know if you have read (and enjoyed) this chapter by sending me a quick email to:  ehylandmaze@aol.com

bless you.....................................Eugene H. Maze

This chapter and all chapters related to this website book entitled "Scripture Shorts" (copyright 1995, 2005) was written and published by Eugene H. Maze.  No portion of this book may be copied, sold or distributed either by electronic or other means in any fashion whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the author.  Permission for distribution may be obtained by contacting the author at ehylandmaze@aol.com.  Links to this and all previous and subsequent pages of this book entitled "Scripture Shorts" may be distributed freely without permission.

Home Page