Tracy Zephyr, a wicked woman allowed into the countryside paradise called ‘the land,’ killed a believer named ‘Flanders,’ here. She hates Christ and all Christians. And she hates this land, because it is too much like God. She tries to get out of this land and back to the world. But the land does not let her leave. But she gets to like this land and comes to see God’s creation here as good now. Behold, another visitor comes into the land. He is Flanders’s best friend Proffery, also a Christian. And Proffery is looking for Flanders here. And Proffery leads Tracy to salvation. Lo, the way back to the world opens up for her. But she knows that God says that she must give up her life for the life of the man whom she had killed. If she stays here in the land, she will live happily ever after. If she leaves the land now and returns to the world, she will have to die for her sin of murder according to the Word of God. What will the young woman do?
THE LAND—A SEQUEL
Mr. Morgan P. McCarthy
“Don’t think I’ll let you get away with this, Red!” yelled Tracy Zephyr as she saw her jump into this creek and out of this pastoral world of the land. “You won’t leave me stranded in this dump! No way. Not today. Jose!” Running up to the bank of this creek of changing waters, Tracy leaped, brought her knees up, hugged her legs, and splashed down into the water, seeking the way back to the world of Earth. But when she stood back up, she was still in this land and still in the midst of this creek. Maddened, Tracy cursed an expletive, and in wild fury did she kick up water with her leg. And she cursed the land. Prior, this young woman had come into this land in her coming up out of this creek. And just now this creek had let Red Sangria, her foe, leave this land and go back to the world.
But now this creek did not allow Tracy Zephyr this same privilege. “I hate You, God! Let me out!”
Tracy hollered at the Lord. How this girl standing in this creek now detested this land’s green meadows and rolling hills and living fields. How she disliked the animals that lived here free and happy and tame. How she loathed this little magic creek—they made her get all wet. Disgruntled, the young lady huffed and climbed up out of the water and onto the bank of land once again. Then she
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saw what she had on right now. Why, it looked like a gymnastics leotard—a long-sleeved women’s gymnastics leotard of all things. A black band ran down her front diagonally, dividing a white half above from a red half below; and one sleeve was all white, and one sleeve was all red. “Crazy thing to happen to me!” she said. “I jump in, wearing my one-piece swimsuit, and I get out, wearing this gymnastics leotard. Stupid land. Why does it have to play tricks on people?” Tracy then looked out onto the land of countryside and nature and creation. She knew that here in the land right now there were no other people besides herself. Desiring to admire her face, she turned one last time to the creek to see her reflection. She saw a girl about twenty years old, with glasses, with long brown hair, and with a sly pout. With a guileful smile, she said, “I am a real princess,” in boasting of her beauty. “What a woman! No wonder I get all the guys. I’m just too pretty.” Turning her back on the creek and beginning a long walk for who knew how long out into this strange quiet land, Tracy complained, “There are no men here to tell me that they need me real bad.”
And as she walked, this gymnastics leotard woman began to remember all of her deeds she had done already in this land in so short a period of time, and she gloated in pride. Tracy had kicked that Bible of Red and Flanders down into the creek. Tracy had stolen that Christian man Flanders’s heart with her wiles and enticed him to turn his back on God. Tracy had also slain Flanders when he wasn’t looking. Tracy had ruined Red Sangria’s life. And Tracy had made Red leave the land. “Yes!” said Tracy in her walk and her pondering, “I sure do good work.” Then she said to God, “How I hate Christians!” Then she said to the land, “And nobody better come here and bother me anymore. I am alone finally. Let’s leave it that way.” And Miss Zephyr stuck her tongue out. But what was she to do now here in the land for probably for now on? “I’ll probably be bored for the rest of my life,” murmured the diabolical young lady, and she huffed again at God and the land. And she continued her trek to who knew where.
As she walked and ruminated, she wondered if maybe this land had a boundary. If she could
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find a boundary, maybe she could cross over it and come back to the world from where she had come.
Maybe this land had an end somewhere up ahead, and she could walk right off of this land and right back onto the world. “Great idea, Tracy,” Miss Zephyr praised herself. And she laughed at the land in victory. And she began her search for a way out.
After a while, she came up to a lake. Otters were playing their fun games along the edges of this lake, and the yellow sun was shining down upon the waters of this lake. Tracy continued her walk.
After a while, she came upon a little forest of weeping willows. Little patches of yellow sun sneaked through the canopy of trees above and illuminated the forest floor. Songbirds in the many branches sang their songs of nature. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a green meadow of tall field grass four feet tall and swaying in the wind. Many cattails with their brown tops one foot above the grass also swayed in the wind. Above this field, a flock of geese flew by overhead in their uneven “V” pattern, also making nature’s music. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a valley of hawk weed. Descending a little hill into this valley, the girl found herself amid
a garden of orange hawk weed and yellow hawk weed. A little snake slithered by right in front of her feet. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came to a large patch of berries. These berries were all blueberries; and they were small blueberries because they were wild blueberries. A turtle crawled by just up ahead slowly and methodically. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came to a
towering box elder ten stories high. Behold, a bald eagle soared in the air above this box elder. It lighted upon a big nest in the highest branch of this great tree. It then looked down upon this land’s interloper, looked her in the eye, and opened its beak and called down unto her in an eagle utterance, and it closed its mouth again. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a plain of five little sand dunes. She saw sand stars scattered across the sand. She knew about these: When they got wet, their outer edges opened up and spread outward; and when they dried back up, their outer edges closed back up and inward again. Then she heard a whirling in the air, and she looked up. Behold, a
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whirlwind arising from the dune of sand, whirling up a vortex of sand, as high as her head. Then the whirlwind descended back to the ground, and the dust settled back upon the dune. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a hill of horsetail plants. Amid these many horsetails were frogs and toads playing games like children. And Miss Zephyr watched. This game looked much like leapfrog to Tracy. Tracy got to thinking as she watched this game whether it should be called in this case “leaptoad” instead of “leapfrog.” Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a red maple tree like unto the time of autumn. Lo, underneath the many branches of deep red leaves, a lion and a lamb feeding together and at peace, predator and prey together. The lion roared a benevolent greetings to her, and the lamb bleated a benign greetings to her. Tracy Zephyr had never seen such a thing before as this. This land was slowly becoming less obnoxious to her. And she was beginning to kind of like the land in which she was providentially marooned. And she came to believe that this land had no boundaries. This land had no end. This land was good. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a demesne of horizon. The sun was setting now in the land. It was the red of dusk falling now upon the woman and this land. This day for the girl was drawing on to night for the girl in the land. And twilight fell upon Tracy Zephyr. Tracy ended her walk. And the young woman sat down under an oak tree amid the acorns scattered throughout on the ground. And she began to reflect in self-doubts, saying to herself, “Tracy, the land is a good land. You do not deserve to be here.
You are not a good woman.” Saying no more, she then turned in for the night upon the acorns under the oak tree, and she fell asleep for the night.
She woke up the next morning to the sound of quaking of ground. Alarmed, she leaped up to her feet, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and turned around, looking from where this thundering was coming. Off to her right, she saw a great cloud of dust off in the distance above this clay ground here in this part of the land. Standing there in some fear, the girl watched to see what this was. The noise and the sight drew closer, and she saw it to be a running of horses. It was a running of myriads of
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horses, and this wild stampede drew closer both in sound and in sight. And Miss Zephyr was fascinated to the uttermost at this phenomenon of nature in the land. She got to loving it here in the land. And she stepped back, not afraid, and watched this running of horses go by in front of her, running from her right to her left, in their great equine multitudes. There were brown horses and white horses and black horses and red horses and gray horses and tawny horses and horses in all manner of speckles and spots and patches. And Tracy Zephyr found herself for her first time reveling in the great countryside beauty that abounded everywhere here in the land. Out of these horses’ mouths came out steam of breath. Wisdom shone in their eyes. Their ears were straight up. Their manes blew about in the wind. Their hooves thudded upon the ground in great divine majesty. Their tails shook as they ran.
They ran in freedom. They ran in life. They ran in joy. They ran in glory of God. They ran in praise of creation. They ran for the land.
And Tracy Zephyr smiled in joy of this land wrought by the Good Lord.
After a while, this running of horses became quieter and fewer. This most glorious stampede was coming to its end before the woman. And then the last horse ran past in front. And she stared at this last horse, now off to her left in the distance. And in awe now of this land, Miss Zephyr asked, “Who are You, Good Lord?”
Just then a voice called out to her, “He is Saviour.”
Startled, Tracy looked up and ahead from where she was standing. There stood a man. Maybe he could tell her who God was. She had not seen him just a moment ago. “Where did you come from, sir?” she asked.
“I was admiring the horses, too,” he said. He must have been watching them from the other side of the great running of where she had been watching them. And now the horses were gone, and she could see him, and he could see her.
Then this man did a double-take with his countenance, “Tracy,” he asked, “is that you?”
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“I am Tracy,” she said. “But who are you?”
“I never thought that I would see you here,” he said.
“You know me?” she asked, surprised to find another person here.
“I’ve been praying for you back in the world, Tracy,” he said. “I am Proffery.”
“I do not know you, Proffery,” said Miss Zephyr.
“I am Flanders’s best friend,” he said. “I found out that he came over to here, and I went over to here to find him.”
“Uh oh,” she said in groaning. And a wave of guilt filled her heart. But she did not feel remorse.
“Have you seen him here?” asked Proffery.
Evading the question, Miss Zephyr asked him a hard question, “Proffery, are you a Christian as he was?”
“That I am indeed, Tracy,” said this Proffery. “I am born again by the blood of the Lamb. I, Proffery Coins, am a servant of the Lord both there and here.”
“Proffery Coins,” said Tracy. “I remember you now. Weren’t you one of those who came to my door that one Thursday night and tried to give me a tract? Wasn’t Flanders with you that evening? And didn’t I…?”
“You were the one who ripped that salvation tract right into two, Miss Zephyr,” he said.
“Ow, how embarrassing,” she said. “Yeah, I remember you, Proffery Coins.”
“Flanders and I have been praying for you in prayer meeting together ever since then,” said Proffery.
“What have you been praying for me for, Proffery?” asked Tracy.
“That God might soften your hardened heart to His Gospel, O Tracy,” said Proffery.
“What’s the Gospel?” asked the girl.
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“You do not know?” he asked.
“I can’t remember it, whatever it might be,” she said.
“Now I know why God sent me here to the land,” said Mr. Coins.
“How come?” asked the young woman. “Did you come here to tell me what the Gospel is?”
He nodded and said, “The Gospel is that Christ died for your sins and rose again the third day,”
She thought for a long moment in her head, then asked, “That is supposed to mean something, Proffery?”
“Why, Tracy Zephyr, that is the good news of salvation,” he said, taken aback.
“Why do I need salvation, Proffery, when I am here in the land?” she asked.
“You will not be in the land for ever. And salvation is forever. And damnation is forever. And making the right decision about the Saviour is the difference between eternity in Heaven and eternity in Hell,” he preached to her unsaved soul.
“With you here in the land with me now, preaching at me like this, I think now that I would like to go back to the world, Proffery,” she said. “When you left the creek upon first coming here, was the water still swirling? I’d like to jump in the creek if the water is swirling. That’s my ticket back home.”
“I’m surprised that you did not see my friend here,” said Proffery.
“I didn’t say that I didn’t see him,” said Tracy. “Nor did I say that I did see him.”
“Is he okay?” asked Proffery.
“He is not here anymore, Proffery Coins,” snapped Tracy.
“Hm, he must have gone back in another part of the creek just when I had come here in my part of the creek,” said Proffery.
“He must have,” lied Miss Zephyr.
“I like your outfit,” Proffery said.
“You do?” she asked, grabbing for more praise of her femininity.
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“Yeah. I do,” he said.
“What do you like about my gymnastics leotard best of all, Proffery?” she asked, proud with his compliments.
“I have a kind of fetish for women’s gymnastics leotards, Tracy—only those that have long sleeves,” he said. “I loved to see Julianne McNamara in the 1984 Olympics perform her tricks in her red, white, and blue, stars and stripes gymnastics leotards. I loved to see Kristi Powell win the America’s Cup championship that one year in her black gymnastics leotard with the long white sleeves.
And I loved to see Lilia Podkopayeva win the all-around women’s gymnastics gold medal in the Olympics that one year in her red and white and blue chevron-striped gymnastics leotard. And my pretty gymnast was Tracee Talavera.”
“My name is also Tracy,” said Miss Zephyr. “What about me? Am I pretty? Am I a pretty gymnast, too, Proffery?”
“You are like a princess in the heart of a secret admirer who is with you now in the land, O
pretty Tracy,” said Proffery Coins.
“Well, now I think that I kind of like my goofy little leotard. I never knew how it got on me—one of the little magics of this land, no doubt. But it feels good on now, and I will never take it off,” said Miss Tracy Zephyr.
“Keep it on, girl! Yes!” he said. Strange guy this man of God was. He seemed to be more excited about her being in this than he did about her being in nothing. Maybe that was a part of his women’s gymnastics leotard fetish in him. He might not be so fun for her. But she did like his unique ways of flirt. Besides, he seemed to be looking her mainly in her face. She would bet that he was even more smitten by the attraction of her face than he was by the attraction of her form. Maybe he was crazy for her. She did kind of liked him back. He was in a real way, cute and built as a guy. He was almost a hunk. He was surely a prince. And he was most of all a gentleman. Maybe Christian
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guys treated their gals better than the ways her unchristian guys had treated her. She, herself, was always harder on her boyfriends than her boyfriends were on her. And she knew that she herself was an unchristian woman. What was a classy man like Proffery doing talking to a crass woman like herself?
She felt honored. But she must never tell him what she had done with Flanders. Proffery might leave her if she told him what happened to his best friend.
“I can tell, Proffery, that you love Jesus first and women’s gymnastics second,” said Tracy.
“That is true, Tracy,” he said.
“Then we can both agree that the land, or the God of this land, brought you here to me to tell me about Jesus,” surmised Tracy.
“We can,” he said.
“Then we can both agree that the land, or the God of this land, dressed me up in this not long before you came here, so that I can be more attractive to you,” conjectured the woman gymnast.
“I think you might be right,” he said. “I never thought about that.”
“The land is good,” said Tracy.
“God is good,” said Proffery.
“You were telling me not long ago that even though it is beautiful here in the land, that I might not get to be here for forever, Proffery,” she began. “And you were saying that as I am right now, I will never get to go to forever be in Heaven. And you made it sound like as I am right now, I will have to go to forever be in Hell. I might miss out on this thing you call ‘salvation.’ And I will have to endure this thing you call ‘damnation.’”
“Yes. That is called ‘eternal truth,’ Tracy,” said Proffery Coins.
“Ouch—eternal truth. Can’t you call it just a little truth?” asked Tracy.
“The cross of Calvary upon which all souls and all eternities after depend upon is not just a littler truth. The death and burial and resurrection of Christ the Lord is eternal truth,” he said.
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Offended by this Gospel message, Tracy fell upon her carnal nature and said, “Proffery, you think that you are so smart.”
To this he humbly replied, “Whether I am so smart or not, it is not for me to say. In I Corinthians 2:2, it is written, ‘For I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified.’”
“Oh,” she said, accepting apology and rebuke both at the same time.
“I prayed last night when I was yet back in the world, Tracy, that you someday accept Jesus as Lord and Saviour. And I prayed that the Lord use me to lead you to your salvation,” he said. “And this morning I found you on the other side of that mighty stampede as it abated. And here we are together, talking about salvation.”
“Prayer is a good thing,” she said. “Salvation must be a great thing.”
He opened his Bible and entreated her to listen to his words from his heart to her heart as he read scripture to her, “Tracy: ‘So being affectionately desirous of you, we were willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us.’
I Thessalonians 2:8.”
With keen understanding of his cherished feelings for her all poured out for her in his Bible verse utterance, Tracy knew that this admirer from afar and for so long was saying to her now, “So being affectionately desirous of you, I was willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also my own soul, because you were dear unto me.”
“I never knew that you felt that way so much for me, Proffery,” she said.
He said another Bible verse to the girl he so cherished, “’But we, brethren, being taken from you for a short time in presence, not in heart, endeavoured the more abundantly to see your face with great desire. Wherefore we would have come unto you, even I Paul, once and again; but Satan hindered us.’ I Thessalonians 2:17-18, O Tracy.”
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His tone, his countenance, his eyes all spoke of his ardor for her. And Miss Zephyr knew that what he was really saying was, “But I, Tracy, being taken from you for a short time in presence, not in heart, endeavored the more abundantly to see your face with great desire. Wherefore I would have come unto you, even I Proffery Coins, once and again; but Satan hindered me.”
Her own heart smitten by this man whose heart she had smitten, Tracy Lynn Zephyr asked, “Proffery, are you in love with me?”
“I do not know,” he said.
“I am not sure how I feel, also, Proffery,” she did say.
“I do know that I am in love with your soul, O Tracy,” he did say.
Tracy remembered another man who had cared for her soul very much. She had killed him.
That was Flanders, the best friend of Proffery. Proffery needed to know. She was a bad girl who had stolen both men’s hearts. She did not deserve Proffery. Proffery should not love her. She was evil. He was good. And she felt dirty in her sins before good Proffery talking to her and reading Bible verses to her now. She spoke and said, “Proffery…”
“Yes, Tracy,” he said.
“I killed a man,” she said. He did not reply in this sudden uncomfortable silence. She said again, “I killed a man, Proffery.”
He asked, “You committed murder, and you got to be here?” Proffery misunderstood. He thought that she had killed a man in the world and then was allowed into the land.
“No, Proffery. Here,” she said. “I killed a man here.”
“You committed murder in the land?!” he asked in shock.
“I did,” she said. “And I am really really sorry. I do not belong in this land.” Remorse over her great sin here over Flanders now came upon her in great agitations and trembling and grief.
“Who was it?” asked Proffery. Tracy would no longer look Proffery in the face. Proffery said,
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“It was Flanders, wasn’t it?” She nodded in shame and conviction and guilt. “My friend. My brother.
My prayer-partner for your soul,” Proffery did say to her.
“I need to go to Hell,” said Tracy, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Why did you do it, Tracy?” he asked.
“Because he was a Christian, and I was not,” she said.
“I am a Christian, and you are not,” said Proffery.
“But I am not going to kill you, Proffery,” she cried out. “I feel differently now about Christians. I do not hate Christ anymore like I used to. I think that I can learn to like Christ.”
“You’ve got to learn to love Christ, Tracy Zephyr,” rebuked Proffery. “This land is no place for killing men of God! You will not say much at the great white throne judgment seat of God, when you stand before Jesus with all of your sins, woman!”
“Are you mad at me now, Proffery?” she asked.
“I am mad at myself that I prayed for you all of those years,” he said.
“Have you fallen out of love for my soul?” she asked timidly before this man of God.
“Yes and no,” he said, weary with bad news. “Flanders is in Heaven. And I will see him again.”
“Where I am going, I will never see him or you again,” confessed Miss Zephyr.
“Tell me how you did it,” he said.
“No. No. I cannot do that,” she said, remembering her heinous act.
“I need to know, Tracy,” he said, insistent.
“Oh, it’s horrible,” she said.
“Tell me,” he said with the voice of authority. And the woman submitted herself to the man.
“This is the hardest thing that I ever had to tell anyone,” she said. “But you deserve to know.”
And she told of how she had killed good Flanders Nickels: “Here in the land, Flanders Nickels
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backslid on God because of me. I had tempted him to run away with me and leave Red Sangria behind,
and he did so. And we came up to a great river, a flowing waters bigger and wider than that creek that we know about having come into this land. We sat down side-by-side upon the bank of this river. And he poured out his heart to me and told me that he dreamed of someday leading to salvation a pretty one-piece swimsuit gal. That was how I was dressed here in the land in those days. I was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit, and Flanders found me an irresistible woman in it. I loved all of this attention that I was getting from this cute guy, and I played along with him when he began to tell me how to get saved from my sins. But I had no intention of getting saved from my sins. And the more he told me about this Saviour Jesus Christ the more offended I got at him. And after a while, I wanted him gone.
What easier way for a woman like myself to get rid of a born-again believer like himself than to do it myself? As he talked, I took a little branch off of an apple tree, and I took a sharp little rock out of the river, and I began to whittle the stick with the stone. Flanders told me his dreams and hopes of life with a one-piece swimsuit girlfriend that he never got to do in his life back in the world. His ‘oldest prayer,’
as he called it, was a petition to God that he could go one-piece swimsuit shopping with a woman someday and buy her the perfect maillot—one that would make her his ‘goddess.’ He called us maillot women ‘one-piece swimsuit goddesses.’ I continued whittling. He went on to tell me that his favorite maillots were solid black maillots—just exactly like the one I was wearing when he told me. He said that he called black one-piece swimsuits ‘prizes.’ He even asked if I had gotten mine from J.C. Penney’s. And I said, ‘Yes. How did you know?” He wouldn’t answer. He must have gone to the malls and the stores much to make-believe that he was living his oldest prayer’s fulfillment. I continued my whittling. Flanders Nickels knew more about women’s swimwear departments than most woman did. But he got back to preaching to me and telling me all about Jesus. Jesus was more important to him than even my prize. Of course I got jealous. He talked on and on about Heaven and about Hell and about my need to get born again by the blood of the Lamb. And I got tired and fed up
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and had enough, if not too much. And my whittling was done. And it was time. I had to rid this land of this believer. And yet he would not quit. Himself thinking that I had really been listening all along, he went and asked me, ‘Tracy, do you want to get saved today?’ I nodded my head, but refused to say anything. And all of a sudden he said, ‘Then let us pray, Tracy. Repeat after me.’ And he bowed his head and began a prayer that he wanted me to pray, ‘Dear Father, Who art in Heaven.’ Now was my chance. He was not looking at me. I could get him right then, and he would not be able to get me back. And I had this kind of spear now in my hand from the limb whittled by the rock. And at once I did thrust this spear into his lower back and drove it deep into his torso. He fell headfirst into the river.
And he lay there dead, half up on the land and half down in the water. And I left, laughing like Satan.
Satan is going to Hell, and I am going to Hell.”
“How can I tell if you are no more sincere about the Word of God with me now than you were with Flanders then?” asked Proffery Coins.
“I was bad then with your friend, and I laughed. But now I am bad with you, and I will never laugh again,” said Tracy in repentance of her murder in this land.
“You will not kill me, Tracy?” he asked.
“Can I ask a man to forgive the killer of his friend?” she asked, penitent.
“If I do not forgive you for your great sin against God, then God will not forgive me for my great sins against God,” he said. “I do many things that I ought not to do. And I do not many things that I ought to do. And daily I need God’s forgiveness and cleansing in order to keep a short tab with my Lord. I forgive you for killing Flanders, Tracy.” He then went on to say, “But, Tracy, it is high time for you to do something for your lost soul. Now is the time. Here is the place. I am your witness-warrior. What will you do now in the land with Jesus. What will you do now in the land about Christ?
Tell me now, or I will have to leave you alone in this land and go back to the world, your eternal soul still on its way to Hell, even this land not your safe refuge for forever.”
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“I want to get saved right now. I really do,” said Tracy Zephyr. “What must a girl do to be saved?”
“Amen. Amen,” Proffery said. “Let us go to the creek and there get you saved.”
“I am ready,” she said.
“So am I,” said Proffery.
He proffered his hand to the gymnast woman, and the gymnast woman took his hand in hers. And together they walked and soon found the magical exit from and entrance to the land here.
Standing upon this creek’s bank, Tracy said, “I never knew how beautiful this creek was until now, Proffery.”
“You are beginning to see as God sees, Tracy,” he said.
“God is a wise Maker,” she said.
“He is the Maker of Heaven and Earth,” said Proffery.
“And the Maker of the land, too,” she said.
“Amen, good woman,” said Proffery.
“Let’s get me born again real quick,” she said. “I am eager to become a Christian now. And I cannot wait. Tell me all about God.”
In witnessing to this fair young gymnastics leotard woman, Proffery opened his King James Bible and pointed to a passage for her to read out loud. Pushing her glasses closer to her face, Tracy Zephyr read, “For it is written, As I live, saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue
shall confess to God. So then every one of us shall give account of himself to God.”
“Romans 14:11-12,” said Proffery this Scripture passage’s reference.
“What does this mean?” asked the young lady.
In good preaching he said, “This means, Tracy, that all of us of the world—and here, too, if we do get to sojourn here for a while—have to answer to God on His throne for everything that we did
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whether good or evil in our temporal lives. For those of us who die saved, we go to the Bema Judgment Seat and get rewards for our good deeds done as a faithful steward. For those who die lost, they go to the Great White Throne judgment seat and get degrees of punishment of fire for all the bad deeds done as a wicked person.” He went on to say, “What you just read says that the just and the unjust shall bow the knee before the Lord Jesus. The just did that already in their born-again conversion in this life. The unjust will have to do that too late in their day of reckoning in the life to come. Likewise we saved have already confessed Jesus with our tongues when we became born again. And likewise the lost will have to confess Jesus with their tongues in their judgment day to come.”
“I don’t like to hear this,” she said. “I believe it, but I don’t like hearing it.”
“But now I have hope for you, O Tracy,” he said in encouragement. “Would you want to see another Bible verse?” She nodded her head in conviction of her sins. And he showed her another Bible verse and said, “Here, Philippians 2;9-11, if you would.”
Tracy Zephyr cleared her throat and read this from his King James Bible: “Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
“What do you think, Tracy?” he asked.
“I think that it is time that I bow the knee and confess with my tongue this name which is above every name, Proffery,” said the repentant Tracy Zephyr.
“Amen! Amen! Amen!” said Proffery Coins all swept up over her own so great salvation now about to come upon her searching soul. “Do you believe, girl? Tell me that you do believe now!” he exclaimed.
“I believe you,” she said.
“Believe God and His Word,” he said.
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“I believe God and His Word,” she said in truth and sincerity.
“It is written, O Tracy,” he said, “’And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ Acts 2:21.”
And the gymnast girl now understood God’s plan of salvation: First she had to confess her sin nature to God and ask Him to forgive her. Second she had to confess the Gospel and admit that Jesus the Son of God died for her and rose again the third day. Third she had to trust Him—and Him alone—for her salvation; she could do nothing to save herself. Fourth she had to humble herself before God and ask Him to save her lost soul and give her everlasting life. This was all to be done in a prayer. And
it was time now for her to pray that prayer.
And Tracy Zephyr, the murderer, here in the land beside this flowing creek, prayed to God for her own salvation in her own words in the truth of the Holy Spirit: “Lord, save me! I deserve to go to Hell. I want to go to Heaven. Jesus, forgive me. And take my soul.”
And the femme fatale became a born-again believer.
It was the next day now. And Tracy and Proffery were on their first date together now as girlfriend-and-boyfriend in the land. They were again at the bank of the flowing creek. “Do you really like my gymnastics leotard, Proffery?” she asked in flirt.
“I do, Tracy,” he said.
“Do you really like my face, Proffery?” she asked in gaiety.
“I do, Tracy,” he said.
“Do you really like my body, Proffery?” she asked in coquetry.
“I do, Tracy,” he said. Young man and young woman laughed together in glee.
“And what is that word you like so much that you call us women gymnasts?” she asked.
“’Beguilers,’” he said. “Women in long-sleeved gymnastics leotards I call ‘beguilers.’”
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“Do I beguile you, Proffery?” she asked.
“You do, Tracy,” he said.
“Very much?” she asked.
“Too much,” he said. Boyfriend and girlfriend laughed again.
Just then the flowing waters of the creek began to swirl around in front of them. The two people of the land stood up and watched. “The creek is changing,” said Tracy.
“It is time to leave the land,” Proffery Coins said.
“Should we keep this creek waiting?” she asked. “We should go and jump in.”
“I am not sure that you would wish now to go back to the world. Tracy. It might turn out bad for you. I am worried for you,” he said gravely. Suddenly cares spread across his features.
“Must I not go where my Lord bids me to go, Proffery?” she asked.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and said, “I fear for your life, O Tracy Zephyr!”
“Proffery, please tell me what is wrong all of a sudden!” she entreated him, herself now afraid to leave this safe haven called the land.
“Tracy, this morning I was reading my Bible, and I came upon a verse that told me that I must lose you—both here in the land and back there in the world,” he said.
“You must lose me?” she asked. “What do you mean that you must lose me?”
“You must die when you go back to the world for what you did in this land,” he said.
“For what I did to Flanders Nickels,” she said in confession.
“It said in the Bible, O Tracy…it was Numbers 35:31…it said…this: ‘Moreover ye shall take no satisfaction for the life of a murderer, which is guilty of death: but he shall be surely put to death.’” God have mercy on you and on me, Tracy.”
“I took a man’s life, and I must die for it,” she said. “God is good and righteous and right.” Then she said, “But I am still afraid.” Proffery held her tight there on the shore of the swirling creek.
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The creek’s changing waters were at climax now. It was time to jump in. And this time was almost up.
“Do you think that this changing of the waters now is for both of us, or for just you, or for just me?” asked Miss Zephyr of this “open door” back to the world.
To this good question, the man of God said, “We cannot find out until we both jump in. The ones whom God wants to leave the land go back to the world. The ones whom God wants to stay a little longer in the land do not go back to the world.”
“Look!” said Tracy. “The waters are beginning to settle back down. We can both still stay here safe forever as boyfriend-and-girlfriend-in-Christ if we wait just a little moment for the swirling to stop.”
“What would Jesus do?” he asked her point-blank. And he jumped into the waning changing of the waters.
“Thy will be done, O righteous Judge,” declared Tracy. And she followed Proffery, herself also now jumping into the changing waters just before the whirling ceased.
And the creek’s changing waters again settled down into their natural smooth flowing downstream.
And in the land lived animals running free, trees growing free, and all manner of the beauty of nature of creation of countryside wrought by the Creator. But there remained not the gymnast nor her man friend here in the land.
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THE LAND—A SEQUEL
Mr. Morgan P. McCarthy
“Don’t think I’ll let you get away with this, Red!” yelled Tracy Zephyr as she saw her jump into this creek and out of this pastoral world of the land. “You won’t leave me stranded in this dump! No way. Not today. Jose!” Running up to the bank of this creek of changing waters, Tracy leaped, brought her knees up, hugged her legs, and splashed down into the water, seeking the way back to the world of Earth. But when she stood back up, she was still in this land and still in the midst of this creek. Maddened, Tracy cursed an expletive, and in wild fury did she kick up water with her leg. And she cursed the land. Prior, this young woman had come into this land in her coming up out of this creek. And just now this creek had let Red Sangria, her foe, leave this land and go back to the world.
But now this creek did not allow Tracy Zephyr this same privilege. “I hate You, God! Let me out!”
Tracy hollered at the Lord. How this girl standing in this creek now detested this land’s green meadows and rolling hills and living fields. How she disliked the animals that lived here free and happy and tame. How she loathed this little magic creek—they made her get all wet. Disgruntled, the young lady huffed and climbed up out of the water and onto the bank of land once again. Then she
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saw what she had on right now. Why, it looked like a gymnastics leotard—a long-sleeved women’s gymnastics leotard of all things. A black band ran down her front diagonally, dividing a white half above from a red half below; and one sleeve was all white, and one sleeve was all red. “Crazy thing to happen to me!” she said. “I jump in, wearing my one-piece swimsuit, and I get out, wearing this gymnastics leotard. Stupid land. Why does it have to play tricks on people?” Tracy then looked out onto the land of countryside and nature and creation. She knew that here in the land right now there were no other people besides herself. Desiring to admire her face, she turned one last time to the creek to see her reflection. She saw a girl about twenty years old, with glasses, with long brown hair, and with a sly pout. With a guileful smile, she said, “I am a real princess,” in boasting of her beauty. “What a woman! No wonder I get all the guys. I’m just too pretty.” Turning her back on the creek and beginning a long walk for who knew how long out into this strange quiet land, Tracy complained, “There are no men here to tell me that they need me real bad.”
And as she walked, this gymnastics leotard woman began to remember all of her deeds she had done already in this land in so short a period of time, and she gloated in pride. Tracy had kicked that Bible of Red and Flanders down into the creek. Tracy had stolen that Christian man Flanders’s heart with her wiles and enticed him to turn his back on God. Tracy had also slain Flanders when he wasn’t looking. Tracy had ruined Red Sangria’s life. And Tracy had made Red leave the land. “Yes!” said Tracy in her walk and her pondering, “I sure do good work.” Then she said to God, “How I hate Christians!” Then she said to the land, “And nobody better come here and bother me anymore. I am alone finally. Let’s leave it that way.” And Miss Zephyr stuck her tongue out. But what was she to do now here in the land for probably for now on? “I’ll probably be bored for the rest of my life,” murmured the diabolical young lady, and she huffed again at God and the land. And she continued her trek to who knew where.
As she walked and ruminated, she wondered if maybe this land had a boundary. If she could
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find a boundary, maybe she could cross over it and come back to the world from where she had come.
Maybe this land had an end somewhere up ahead, and she could walk right off of this land and right back onto the world. “Great idea, Tracy,” Miss Zephyr praised herself. And she laughed at the land in victory. And she began her search for a way out.
After a while, she came up to a lake. Otters were playing their fun games along the edges of this lake, and the yellow sun was shining down upon the waters of this lake. Tracy continued her walk.
After a while, she came upon a little forest of weeping willows. Little patches of yellow sun sneaked through the canopy of trees above and illuminated the forest floor. Songbirds in the many branches sang their songs of nature. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a green meadow of tall field grass four feet tall and swaying in the wind. Many cattails with their brown tops one foot above the grass also swayed in the wind. Above this field, a flock of geese flew by overhead in their uneven “V” pattern, also making nature’s music. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a valley of hawk weed. Descending a little hill into this valley, the girl found herself amid
a garden of orange hawk weed and yellow hawk weed. A little snake slithered by right in front of her feet. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came to a large patch of berries. These berries were all blueberries; and they were small blueberries because they were wild blueberries. A turtle crawled by just up ahead slowly and methodically. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came to a
towering box elder ten stories high. Behold, a bald eagle soared in the air above this box elder. It lighted upon a big nest in the highest branch of this great tree. It then looked down upon this land’s interloper, looked her in the eye, and opened its beak and called down unto her in an eagle utterance, and it closed its mouth again. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a plain of five little sand dunes. She saw sand stars scattered across the sand. She knew about these: When they got wet, their outer edges opened up and spread outward; and when they dried back up, their outer edges closed back up and inward again. Then she heard a whirling in the air, and she looked up. Behold, a
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whirlwind arising from the dune of sand, whirling up a vortex of sand, as high as her head. Then the whirlwind descended back to the ground, and the dust settled back upon the dune. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a hill of horsetail plants. Amid these many horsetails were frogs and toads playing games like children. And Miss Zephyr watched. This game looked much like leapfrog to Tracy. Tracy got to thinking as she watched this game whether it should be called in this case “leaptoad” instead of “leapfrog.” Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a red maple tree like unto the time of autumn. Lo, underneath the many branches of deep red leaves, a lion and a lamb feeding together and at peace, predator and prey together. The lion roared a benevolent greetings to her, and the lamb bleated a benign greetings to her. Tracy Zephyr had never seen such a thing before as this. This land was slowly becoming less obnoxious to her. And she was beginning to kind of like the land in which she was providentially marooned. And she came to believe that this land had no boundaries. This land had no end. This land was good. Tracy continued her walk. After a while, she came upon a demesne of horizon. The sun was setting now in the land. It was the red of dusk falling now upon the woman and this land. This day for the girl was drawing on to night for the girl in the land. And twilight fell upon Tracy Zephyr. Tracy ended her walk. And the young woman sat down under an oak tree amid the acorns scattered throughout on the ground. And she began to reflect in self-doubts, saying to herself, “Tracy, the land is a good land. You do not deserve to be here.
You are not a good woman.” Saying no more, she then turned in for the night upon the acorns under the oak tree, and she fell asleep for the night.
She woke up the next morning to the sound of quaking of ground. Alarmed, she leaped up to her feet, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and turned around, looking from where this thundering was coming. Off to her right, she saw a great cloud of dust off in the distance above this clay ground here in this part of the land. Standing there in some fear, the girl watched to see what this was. The noise and the sight drew closer, and she saw it to be a running of horses. It was a running of myriads of
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horses, and this wild stampede drew closer both in sound and in sight. And Miss Zephyr was fascinated to the uttermost at this phenomenon of nature in the land. She got to loving it here in the land. And she stepped back, not afraid, and watched this running of horses go by in front of her, running from her right to her left, in their great equine multitudes. There were brown horses and white horses and black horses and red horses and gray horses and tawny horses and horses in all manner of speckles and spots and patches. And Tracy Zephyr found herself for her first time reveling in the great countryside beauty that abounded everywhere here in the land. Out of these horses’ mouths came out steam of breath. Wisdom shone in their eyes. Their ears were straight up. Their manes blew about in the wind. Their hooves thudded upon the ground in great divine majesty. Their tails shook as they ran.
They ran in freedom. They ran in life. They ran in joy. They ran in glory of God. They ran in praise of creation. They ran for the land.
And Tracy Zephyr smiled in joy of this land wrought by the Good Lord.
After a while, this running of horses became quieter and fewer. This most glorious stampede was coming to its end before the woman. And then the last horse ran past in front. And she stared at this last horse, now off to her left in the distance. And in awe now of this land, Miss Zephyr asked, “Who are You, Good Lord?”
Just then a voice called out to her, “He is Saviour.”
Startled, Tracy looked up and ahead from where she was standing. There stood a man. Maybe he could tell her who God was. She had not seen him just a moment ago. “Where did you come from, sir?” she asked.
“I was admiring the horses, too,” he said. He must have been watching them from the other side of the great running of where she had been watching them. And now the horses were gone, and she could see him, and he could see her.
Then this man did a double-take with his countenance, “Tracy,” he asked, “is that you?”
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“I am Tracy,” she said. “But who are you?”
“I never thought that I would see you here,” he said.
“You know me?” she asked, surprised to find another person here.
“I’ve been praying for you back in the world, Tracy,” he said. “I am Proffery.”
“I do not know you, Proffery,” said Miss Zephyr.
“I am Flanders’s best friend,” he said. “I found out that he came over to here, and I went over to here to find him.”
“Uh oh,” she said in groaning. And a wave of guilt filled her heart. But she did not feel remorse.
“Have you seen him here?” asked Proffery.
Evading the question, Miss Zephyr asked him a hard question, “Proffery, are you a Christian as he was?”
“That I am indeed, Tracy,” said this Proffery. “I am born again by the blood of the Lamb. I, Proffery Coins, am a servant of the Lord both there and here.”
“Proffery Coins,” said Tracy. “I remember you now. Weren’t you one of those who came to my door that one Thursday night and tried to give me a tract? Wasn’t Flanders with you that evening? And didn’t I…?”
“You were the one who ripped that salvation tract right into two, Miss Zephyr,” he said.
“Ow, how embarrassing,” she said. “Yeah, I remember you, Proffery Coins.”
“Flanders and I have been praying for you in prayer meeting together ever since then,” said Proffery.
“What have you been praying for me for, Proffery?” asked Tracy.
“That God might soften your hardened heart to His Gospel, O Tracy,” said Proffery.
“What’s the Gospel?” asked the girl.
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“You do not know?” he asked.
“I can’t remember it, whatever it might be,” she said.
“Now I know why God sent me here to the land,” said Mr. Coins.
“How come?” asked the young woman. “Did you come here to tell me what the Gospel is?”
He nodded and said, “The Gospel is that Christ died for your sins and rose again the third day,”
She thought for a long moment in her head, then asked, “That is supposed to mean something, Proffery?”
“Why, Tracy Zephyr, that is the good news of salvation,” he said, taken aback.
“Why do I need salvation, Proffery, when I am here in the land?” she asked.
“You will not be in the land for ever. And salvation is forever. And damnation is forever. And making the right decision about the Saviour is the difference between eternity in Heaven and eternity in Hell,” he preached to her unsaved soul.
“With you here in the land with me now, preaching at me like this, I think now that I would like to go back to the world, Proffery,” she said. “When you left the creek upon first coming here, was the water still swirling? I’d like to jump in the creek if the water is swirling. That’s my ticket back home.”
“I’m surprised that you did not see my friend here,” said Proffery.
“I didn’t say that I didn’t see him,” said Tracy. “Nor did I say that I did see him.”
“Is he okay?” asked Proffery.
“He is not here anymore, Proffery Coins,” snapped Tracy.
“Hm, he must have gone back in another part of the creek just when I had come here in my part of the creek,” said Proffery.
“He must have,” lied Miss Zephyr.
“I like your outfit,” Proffery said.
“You do?” she asked, grabbing for more praise of her femininity.
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“Yeah. I do,” he said.
“What do you like about my gymnastics leotard best of all, Proffery?” she asked, proud with his compliments.
“I have a kind of fetish for women’s gymnastics leotards, Tracy—only those that have long sleeves,” he said. “I loved to see Julianne McNamara in the 1984 Olympics perform her tricks in her red, white, and blue, stars and stripes gymnastics leotards. I loved to see Kristi Powell win the America’s Cup championship that one year in her black gymnastics leotard with the long white sleeves.
And I loved to see Lilia Podkopayeva win the all-around women’s gymnastics gold medal in the Olympics that one year in her red and white and blue chevron-striped gymnastics leotard. And my pretty gymnast was Tracee Talavera.”
“My name is also Tracy,” said Miss Zephyr. “What about me? Am I pretty? Am I a pretty gymnast, too, Proffery?”
“You are like a princess in the heart of a secret admirer who is with you now in the land, O
pretty Tracy,” said Proffery Coins.
“Well, now I think that I kind of like my goofy little leotard. I never knew how it got on me—one of the little magics of this land, no doubt. But it feels good on now, and I will never take it off,” said Miss Tracy Zephyr.
“Keep it on, girl! Yes!” he said. Strange guy this man of God was. He seemed to be more excited about her being in this than he did about her being in nothing. Maybe that was a part of his women’s gymnastics leotard fetish in him. He might not be so fun for her. But she did like his unique ways of flirt. Besides, he seemed to be looking her mainly in her face. She would bet that he was even more smitten by the attraction of her face than he was by the attraction of her form. Maybe he was crazy for her. She did kind of liked him back. He was in a real way, cute and built as a guy. He was almost a hunk. He was surely a prince. And he was most of all a gentleman. Maybe Christian
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guys treated their gals better than the ways her unchristian guys had treated her. She, herself, was always harder on her boyfriends than her boyfriends were on her. And she knew that she herself was an unchristian woman. What was a classy man like Proffery doing talking to a crass woman like herself?
She felt honored. But she must never tell him what she had done with Flanders. Proffery might leave her if she told him what happened to his best friend.
“I can tell, Proffery, that you love Jesus first and women’s gymnastics second,” said Tracy.
“That is true, Tracy,” he said.
“Then we can both agree that the land, or the God of this land, brought you here to me to tell me about Jesus,” surmised Tracy.
“We can,” he said.
“Then we can both agree that the land, or the God of this land, dressed me up in this not long before you came here, so that I can be more attractive to you,” conjectured the woman gymnast.
“I think you might be right,” he said. “I never thought about that.”
“The land is good,” said Tracy.
“God is good,” said Proffery.
“You were telling me not long ago that even though it is beautiful here in the land, that I might not get to be here for forever, Proffery,” she began. “And you were saying that as I am right now, I will never get to go to forever be in Heaven. And you made it sound like as I am right now, I will have to go to forever be in Hell. I might miss out on this thing you call ‘salvation.’ And I will have to endure this thing you call ‘damnation.’”
“Yes. That is called ‘eternal truth,’ Tracy,” said Proffery Coins.
“Ouch—eternal truth. Can’t you call it just a little truth?” asked Tracy.
“The cross of Calvary upon which all souls and all eternities after depend upon is not just a littler truth. The death and burial and resurrection of Christ the Lord is eternal truth,” he said.
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Offended by this Gospel message, Tracy fell upon her carnal nature and said, “Proffery, you think that you are so smart.”
To this he humbly replied, “Whether I am so smart or not, it is not for me to say. In I Corinthians 2:2, it is written, ‘For I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified.’”
“Oh,” she said, accepting apology and rebuke both at the same time.
“I prayed last night when I was yet back in the world, Tracy, that you someday accept Jesus as Lord and Saviour. And I prayed that the Lord use me to lead you to your salvation,” he said. “And this morning I found you on the other side of that mighty stampede as it abated. And here we are together, talking about salvation.”
“Prayer is a good thing,” she said. “Salvation must be a great thing.”
He opened his Bible and entreated her to listen to his words from his heart to her heart as he read scripture to her, “Tracy: ‘So being affectionately desirous of you, we were willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us.’
I Thessalonians 2:8.”
With keen understanding of his cherished feelings for her all poured out for her in his Bible verse utterance, Tracy knew that this admirer from afar and for so long was saying to her now, “So being affectionately desirous of you, I was willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also my own soul, because you were dear unto me.”
“I never knew that you felt that way so much for me, Proffery,” she said.
He said another Bible verse to the girl he so cherished, “’But we, brethren, being taken from you for a short time in presence, not in heart, endeavoured the more abundantly to see your face with great desire. Wherefore we would have come unto you, even I Paul, once and again; but Satan hindered us.’ I Thessalonians 2:17-18, O Tracy.”
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His tone, his countenance, his eyes all spoke of his ardor for her. And Miss Zephyr knew that what he was really saying was, “But I, Tracy, being taken from you for a short time in presence, not in heart, endeavored the more abundantly to see your face with great desire. Wherefore I would have come unto you, even I Proffery Coins, once and again; but Satan hindered me.”
Her own heart smitten by this man whose heart she had smitten, Tracy Lynn Zephyr asked, “Proffery, are you in love with me?”
“I do not know,” he said.
“I am not sure how I feel, also, Proffery,” she did say.
“I do know that I am in love with your soul, O Tracy,” he did say.
Tracy remembered another man who had cared for her soul very much. She had killed him.
That was Flanders, the best friend of Proffery. Proffery needed to know. She was a bad girl who had stolen both men’s hearts. She did not deserve Proffery. Proffery should not love her. She was evil. He was good. And she felt dirty in her sins before good Proffery talking to her and reading Bible verses to her now. She spoke and said, “Proffery…”
“Yes, Tracy,” he said.
“I killed a man,” she said. He did not reply in this sudden uncomfortable silence. She said again, “I killed a man, Proffery.”
He asked, “You committed murder, and you got to be here?” Proffery misunderstood. He thought that she had killed a man in the world and then was allowed into the land.
“No, Proffery. Here,” she said. “I killed a man here.”
“You committed murder in the land?!” he asked in shock.
“I did,” she said. “And I am really really sorry. I do not belong in this land.” Remorse over her great sin here over Flanders now came upon her in great agitations and trembling and grief.
“Who was it?” asked Proffery. Tracy would no longer look Proffery in the face. Proffery said,
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“It was Flanders, wasn’t it?” She nodded in shame and conviction and guilt. “My friend. My brother.
My prayer-partner for your soul,” Proffery did say to her.
“I need to go to Hell,” said Tracy, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Why did you do it, Tracy?” he asked.
“Because he was a Christian, and I was not,” she said.
“I am a Christian, and you are not,” said Proffery.
“But I am not going to kill you, Proffery,” she cried out. “I feel differently now about Christians. I do not hate Christ anymore like I used to. I think that I can learn to like Christ.”
“You’ve got to learn to love Christ, Tracy Zephyr,” rebuked Proffery. “This land is no place for killing men of God! You will not say much at the great white throne judgment seat of God, when you stand before Jesus with all of your sins, woman!”
“Are you mad at me now, Proffery?” she asked.
“I am mad at myself that I prayed for you all of those years,” he said.
“Have you fallen out of love for my soul?” she asked timidly before this man of God.
“Yes and no,” he said, weary with bad news. “Flanders is in Heaven. And I will see him again.”
“Where I am going, I will never see him or you again,” confessed Miss Zephyr.
“Tell me how you did it,” he said.
“No. No. I cannot do that,” she said, remembering her heinous act.
“I need to know, Tracy,” he said, insistent.
“Oh, it’s horrible,” she said.
“Tell me,” he said with the voice of authority. And the woman submitted herself to the man.
“This is the hardest thing that I ever had to tell anyone,” she said. “But you deserve to know.”
And she told of how she had killed good Flanders Nickels: “Here in the land, Flanders Nickels
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backslid on God because of me. I had tempted him to run away with me and leave Red Sangria behind,
and he did so. And we came up to a great river, a flowing waters bigger and wider than that creek that we know about having come into this land. We sat down side-by-side upon the bank of this river. And he poured out his heart to me and told me that he dreamed of someday leading to salvation a pretty one-piece swimsuit gal. That was how I was dressed here in the land in those days. I was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit, and Flanders found me an irresistible woman in it. I loved all of this attention that I was getting from this cute guy, and I played along with him when he began to tell me how to get saved from my sins. But I had no intention of getting saved from my sins. And the more he told me about this Saviour Jesus Christ the more offended I got at him. And after a while, I wanted him gone.
What easier way for a woman like myself to get rid of a born-again believer like himself than to do it myself? As he talked, I took a little branch off of an apple tree, and I took a sharp little rock out of the river, and I began to whittle the stick with the stone. Flanders told me his dreams and hopes of life with a one-piece swimsuit girlfriend that he never got to do in his life back in the world. His ‘oldest prayer,’
as he called it, was a petition to God that he could go one-piece swimsuit shopping with a woman someday and buy her the perfect maillot—one that would make her his ‘goddess.’ He called us maillot women ‘one-piece swimsuit goddesses.’ I continued whittling. He went on to tell me that his favorite maillots were solid black maillots—just exactly like the one I was wearing when he told me. He said that he called black one-piece swimsuits ‘prizes.’ He even asked if I had gotten mine from J.C. Penney’s. And I said, ‘Yes. How did you know?” He wouldn’t answer. He must have gone to the malls and the stores much to make-believe that he was living his oldest prayer’s fulfillment. I continued my whittling. Flanders Nickels knew more about women’s swimwear departments than most woman did. But he got back to preaching to me and telling me all about Jesus. Jesus was more important to him than even my prize. Of course I got jealous. He talked on and on about Heaven and about Hell and about my need to get born again by the blood of the Lamb. And I got tired and fed up
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and had enough, if not too much. And my whittling was done. And it was time. I had to rid this land of this believer. And yet he would not quit. Himself thinking that I had really been listening all along, he went and asked me, ‘Tracy, do you want to get saved today?’ I nodded my head, but refused to say anything. And all of a sudden he said, ‘Then let us pray, Tracy. Repeat after me.’ And he bowed his head and began a prayer that he wanted me to pray, ‘Dear Father, Who art in Heaven.’ Now was my chance. He was not looking at me. I could get him right then, and he would not be able to get me back. And I had this kind of spear now in my hand from the limb whittled by the rock. And at once I did thrust this spear into his lower back and drove it deep into his torso. He fell headfirst into the river.
And he lay there dead, half up on the land and half down in the water. And I left, laughing like Satan.
Satan is going to Hell, and I am going to Hell.”
“How can I tell if you are no more sincere about the Word of God with me now than you were with Flanders then?” asked Proffery Coins.
“I was bad then with your friend, and I laughed. But now I am bad with you, and I will never laugh again,” said Tracy in repentance of her murder in this land.
“You will not kill me, Tracy?” he asked.
“Can I ask a man to forgive the killer of his friend?” she asked, penitent.
“If I do not forgive you for your great sin against God, then God will not forgive me for my great sins against God,” he said. “I do many things that I ought not to do. And I do not many things that I ought to do. And daily I need God’s forgiveness and cleansing in order to keep a short tab with my Lord. I forgive you for killing Flanders, Tracy.” He then went on to say, “But, Tracy, it is high time for you to do something for your lost soul. Now is the time. Here is the place. I am your witness-warrior. What will you do now in the land with Jesus. What will you do now in the land about Christ?
Tell me now, or I will have to leave you alone in this land and go back to the world, your eternal soul still on its way to Hell, even this land not your safe refuge for forever.”
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“I want to get saved right now. I really do,” said Tracy Zephyr. “What must a girl do to be saved?”
“Amen. Amen,” Proffery said. “Let us go to the creek and there get you saved.”
“I am ready,” she said.
“So am I,” said Proffery.
He proffered his hand to the gymnast woman, and the gymnast woman took his hand in hers. And together they walked and soon found the magical exit from and entrance to the land here.
Standing upon this creek’s bank, Tracy said, “I never knew how beautiful this creek was until now, Proffery.”
“You are beginning to see as God sees, Tracy,” he said.
“God is a wise Maker,” she said.
“He is the Maker of Heaven and Earth,” said Proffery.
“And the Maker of the land, too,” she said.
“Amen, good woman,” said Proffery.
“Let’s get me born again real quick,” she said. “I am eager to become a Christian now. And I cannot wait. Tell me all about God.”
In witnessing to this fair young gymnastics leotard woman, Proffery opened his King James Bible and pointed to a passage for her to read out loud. Pushing her glasses closer to her face, Tracy Zephyr read, “For it is written, As I live, saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue
shall confess to God. So then every one of us shall give account of himself to God.”
“Romans 14:11-12,” said Proffery this Scripture passage’s reference.
“What does this mean?” asked the young lady.
In good preaching he said, “This means, Tracy, that all of us of the world—and here, too, if we do get to sojourn here for a while—have to answer to God on His throne for everything that we did
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whether good or evil in our temporal lives. For those of us who die saved, we go to the Bema Judgment Seat and get rewards for our good deeds done as a faithful steward. For those who die lost, they go to the Great White Throne judgment seat and get degrees of punishment of fire for all the bad deeds done as a wicked person.” He went on to say, “What you just read says that the just and the unjust shall bow the knee before the Lord Jesus. The just did that already in their born-again conversion in this life. The unjust will have to do that too late in their day of reckoning in the life to come. Likewise we saved have already confessed Jesus with our tongues when we became born again. And likewise the lost will have to confess Jesus with their tongues in their judgment day to come.”
“I don’t like to hear this,” she said. “I believe it, but I don’t like hearing it.”
“But now I have hope for you, O Tracy,” he said in encouragement. “Would you want to see another Bible verse?” She nodded her head in conviction of her sins. And he showed her another Bible verse and said, “Here, Philippians 2;9-11, if you would.”
Tracy Zephyr cleared her throat and read this from his King James Bible: “Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
“What do you think, Tracy?” he asked.
“I think that it is time that I bow the knee and confess with my tongue this name which is above every name, Proffery,” said the repentant Tracy Zephyr.
“Amen! Amen! Amen!” said Proffery Coins all swept up over her own so great salvation now about to come upon her searching soul. “Do you believe, girl? Tell me that you do believe now!” he exclaimed.
“I believe you,” she said.
“Believe God and His Word,” he said.
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“I believe God and His Word,” she said in truth and sincerity.
“It is written, O Tracy,” he said, “’And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ Acts 2:21.”
And the gymnast girl now understood God’s plan of salvation: First she had to confess her sin nature to God and ask Him to forgive her. Second she had to confess the Gospel and admit that Jesus the Son of God died for her and rose again the third day. Third she had to trust Him—and Him alone—for her salvation; she could do nothing to save herself. Fourth she had to humble herself before God and ask Him to save her lost soul and give her everlasting life. This was all to be done in a prayer. And
it was time now for her to pray that prayer.
And Tracy Zephyr, the murderer, here in the land beside this flowing creek, prayed to God for her own salvation in her own words in the truth of the Holy Spirit: “Lord, save me! I deserve to go to Hell. I want to go to Heaven. Jesus, forgive me. And take my soul.”
And the femme fatale became a born-again believer.
It was the next day now. And Tracy and Proffery were on their first date together now as girlfriend-and-boyfriend in the land. They were again at the bank of the flowing creek. “Do you really like my gymnastics leotard, Proffery?” she asked in flirt.
“I do, Tracy,” he said.
“Do you really like my face, Proffery?” she asked in gaiety.
“I do, Tracy,” he said.
“Do you really like my body, Proffery?” she asked in coquetry.
“I do, Tracy,” he said. Young man and young woman laughed together in glee.
“And what is that word you like so much that you call us women gymnasts?” she asked.
“’Beguilers,’” he said. “Women in long-sleeved gymnastics leotards I call ‘beguilers.’”
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“Do I beguile you, Proffery?” she asked.
“You do, Tracy,” he said.
“Very much?” she asked.
“Too much,” he said. Boyfriend and girlfriend laughed again.
Just then the flowing waters of the creek began to swirl around in front of them. The two people of the land stood up and watched. “The creek is changing,” said Tracy.
“It is time to leave the land,” Proffery Coins said.
“Should we keep this creek waiting?” she asked. “We should go and jump in.”
“I am not sure that you would wish now to go back to the world. Tracy. It might turn out bad for you. I am worried for you,” he said gravely. Suddenly cares spread across his features.
“Must I not go where my Lord bids me to go, Proffery?” she asked.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and said, “I fear for your life, O Tracy Zephyr!”
“Proffery, please tell me what is wrong all of a sudden!” she entreated him, herself now afraid to leave this safe haven called the land.
“Tracy, this morning I was reading my Bible, and I came upon a verse that told me that I must lose you—both here in the land and back there in the world,” he said.
“You must lose me?” she asked. “What do you mean that you must lose me?”
“You must die when you go back to the world for what you did in this land,” he said.
“For what I did to Flanders Nickels,” she said in confession.
“It said in the Bible, O Tracy…it was Numbers 35:31…it said…this: ‘Moreover ye shall take no satisfaction for the life of a murderer, which is guilty of death: but he shall be surely put to death.’” God have mercy on you and on me, Tracy.”
“I took a man’s life, and I must die for it,” she said. “God is good and righteous and right.” Then she said, “But I am still afraid.” Proffery held her tight there on the shore of the swirling creek.
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The creek’s changing waters were at climax now. It was time to jump in. And this time was almost up.
“Do you think that this changing of the waters now is for both of us, or for just you, or for just me?” asked Miss Zephyr of this “open door” back to the world.
To this good question, the man of God said, “We cannot find out until we both jump in. The ones whom God wants to leave the land go back to the world. The ones whom God wants to stay a little longer in the land do not go back to the world.”
“Look!” said Tracy. “The waters are beginning to settle back down. We can both still stay here safe forever as boyfriend-and-girlfriend-in-Christ if we wait just a little moment for the swirling to stop.”
“What would Jesus do?” he asked her point-blank. And he jumped into the waning changing of the waters.
“Thy will be done, O righteous Judge,” declared Tracy. And she followed Proffery, herself also now jumping into the changing waters just before the whirling ceased.
And the creek’s changing waters again settled down into their natural smooth flowing downstream.
And in the land lived animals running free, trees growing free, and all manner of the beauty of nature of creation of countryside wrought by the Creator. But there remained not the gymnast nor her man friend here in the land.
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