A DARK NIGHT IN ROSENGARD

Jenny drove her candy apple red Camaro with practiced ease as Hilda settled comfortably into the passenger seat. The two of them were going to spend the weekend at a cottage just east of Kenora. The July weather was perfect for lounging on the deck and catching up on each other’s lives. In the back they had stashed a cooler which held steaks, potatoes, salad fixings and a couple of bottles of wine. Music played softly and the breeze coming in the sunroof gently ruffled their hair as they rode along in comfortable silence.

Jenny lived in Winnipeg and looked forward to a quiet weekend at the lake, listening to the gentle lapping of water on the dock and falling asleep to the melancholy call of the loons. Hilda was also eagerly anticipating a weekend away from all things Holdeman. The relationship between her and Jack was becoming increasingly strained and life at the Isaac household was reaching a breaking point.

As they traveled eastward they moved through the flatness of the Manitoba landscape and on into Ontario where the gentle hills and tree-lined highway soothed them into relaxation. The atmosphere in the car became ever more peaceful and they turned to each other and shared a smile. It was the smile of kindred spirits, a smile between two friends who intimately understood each other’s heartaches. Finally, Jenny turned the car south onto a gravel road which took them deep into lakeside country. After several miles they saw a sign which read, “2 miles to X’s Delights”. They both chuckled. Jenny’s friends Lindy and Wes Warkentin had been expelled in the early 1980’s. Since that time they had formed their own insurance company and had done very well financially. This had given them the opportunity to build a beautiful four-season cottage where they entertained their friends and business acquaintances. Those closest to them knew that it had been designed and built especially for their friends and family members who needed to escape pressures brought on by church-driven stresses. It had provided a haven for many men, women and young adults who were shunned by church and family.

Jenny and Hilda pulled up to the cottage, opened their doors and breathed in the fresh air. Quickly they carried in their bags and stowed their food in the fridge. Jenny opened a bottle of wine and soon they were settled on the deck. The afternoon went by quickly as they chatted their way through a couple of glasses of wine and then slipped into the lake for a swim.

Hilda barbecued the steaks while Jenny prepared her favorite Greek salad. They had decided to eat on the deck which was accessed through the bar area. The deck faced west and was the perfect spot for watching the sun set over the lake. Carrying their plates heaped with succulent steaks and baked potatoes they paused at the bar on their way to the deck. A huge sign on the wall read, “No Members Allowed”. The large menu board located right next to it read “Many Spirits Discerned Here” and Jenny’s favorite sign over the fireplace stated in no uncertain terms, “Welch’s grape juice not available, we commune with real spirits”. They laughed at Wes and Lindy’s sense of humor and decided that perhaps after dinner they would attempt to discern a few spirits themselves at this bar. They moved out to the patio where they settled at a small table on the deck, ate dinner and watched the sun sink into the lake in shades of brilliant pink, orange and red.

Jenny paused to marvel at the tranquility of this beautiful spot. She sighed as she recalled the pain, angst and hurt both Hilda and she had experienced at the hands of a small group of religious zealots including their own family members. Yet here they were in a place so utterly peaceful and both of them, in spite of very troubled lives, were still able to love and feel a harmony with each other and with nature.

Over a dessert of ice cream and fresh strawberries, Jenny and Hilda reflected on all the relationships they had lost over the course of the years. Jenny recalled a particular trip to her brother’s house one summer night during the first gut-wrenching months of the “purge” in Kleefeld. As she began relating the events of that evening, thunder rumbled long and low in the distance as dark clouds moved in from the west. Lightening flickered over the lake and the wind set the leaves and bushes rustling.

Hilda refilled their glasses as Jenny told how late one afternoon her dad had come home stating that his own son had fired him from the family business he himself had started and handed over to him just a few years earlier. Her father had already been semi retired and was helping out two or three days a week. Henry, Jenny’s dad had a heart condition and had undergone open heart surgery so he tired easily and strenuous physical activity was difficult. However, he was still able to perform the less demanding tasks on the job site and so far it had worked well. At least until Henry and Jenny’s mom, had gotten expelled.

Jenny had taken one look at her father’s dumb-struck face as he related the details of the day to her and her mom. She had decided then and there that a good long chat with her older brother was in order. That evening after the supper dishes had been put away Jenny told her mom and dad that she was going to be paying a little visit to Rosengard that night where her brother lived. She knew mom and dad weren’t enthusiastic about her going over there alone but she was determined to speak up for her dad. In retrospect Jenny realized she had been naïve and had ventured into circumstances she had been incapable of dealing with alone. After all, she had been only 18 years old and her life experiences were limited. That was all going to change that evening and little did she know that she would leave her brother’s house a changed woman. It would take her 20 years however to acknowledge that she had looked the devil in the eye that night and that he had tried to follow her home. She became convinced that had it not been for mom and dad’s prayers she might never have returned to their love that had magnetically pulled her homeward that night.

Hilda looked over at Jenny and realized that the telling of this story was not easy for her. She reached for her hand but Jenny didn’t notice. She suddenly got up and walked over to the deck railing. As she gazed upward, the flickering flashes of lightening reflected the tears rolling down her cheeks and she screamed, “He didn’t listen to me! His eyes were cold and his heart a stone. I told him, you can’t do this to your own father, he started the business, he’s an old tired man!”

Thunder rumbled across the lake and the wind had picked up. Little white caps danced across the water as Jenny gripped the railing and continued her agonizing story of betrayal.

We went back and forth for hours she said but my brother simply didn’t hear what I had to say and remained firmly planted in the rightness of firing his expelled father. Jenny cried, “I begged and pleaded that he would not take our father’s dignity and pride from him. As the hours went by and as the hands on the clock stretched toward midnight I knew my quest for justice, love and family values had failed completely. Emotionally exhausted I got up from the couch and walked out the door.”

Her brother’s house was out in the country, nestled amongst poplar and oak trees. The driveway to the road was long, bordered on the south by a stand of trees and on the north by an open field. The night was very dark. There was no moon and there were no friendly stars twinkling down on Rosengard that night.

Jenny said, “I got in my car and as soon as I closed the door, I knew I wasn’t alone. It was there in the darkness behind me in the back seat. The devil had followed me out of the house and was determined to ride with me. Bravely I continued down the driveway westward into the blackest black I had ever experienced. I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck and my skin tingled. I was terrified and finally turned the light on to assure myself I was alone - nothing there. I headed north and turned the light off. But as soon I turned the light off the devil returned and I felt his icy fingers fondling the hair on my head. I screamed and reached to turn the interior light on again. And again, I turned to look in the back seat but the light had scared him away. He preferred the darkness, I could tell.

Hilda remained motionless as she listened to Jenny’s gripping story. The storm was approaching fast but Jenny didn’t notice. Lightening flashed and thunder rolled almost continuously. The wind was blowing hard and tree branches were creaking ominously. Hilda felt uneasy.

Jenny continued her tale. After a short half mile drive north I turned west on the highway. There’s not many people living on that road and I couldn’t see one light anywhere. I was all alone with the devil. Finally in utter desperation and gripped with fear, I braked to a halt in the middle of the road and spun around to assure myself there was nothing lurking in the back seat. It was devoid of a physical presence but I knew that evil waited there as I presented myself to him at the most vulnerable time in my young life. Finally, I decided to leave the interior light on and raced the last 5 miles home at breakneck speed, car ablaze with lights, home to the warmth and comfort of mom and dad’s love. It was the longest 5 miles of my life I’ve ever driven. Even with the light on I remained terror-stricken. Once I got home I hurried to mom and dad’s bedroom where they lay in bed, anxiety etched in their faces.

Mom looked at me and cried, “What happened, you’re as white as a sheet.” They were completely silent as I related my experiences of the evening from beginning to end. Dad’s blue eyes glittered with pain and mom’s face was gray and utterly sad. I kissed them goodnight and went to my own room where I fell into bed consumed with a tired emptiness and a terrible hopelessness.

Jenny turned to Hilda as the thunder crashed around them. The wind tore at the trees and they could hear boats crashing against the docks. Quickly they gathered up the dishes and moved inside. Not familiar with the cottage they had to search blindly in the darkness for light switches and Hilda felt panic welling up inside her. Jenny’s story had filled her with a nameless dread. Finally, they located the light switches and quickly turned all the lights on, filling the house with an unnatural brightness. They decided to build a fire in the fireplace and engage in more cheerful conversation. The storm moved on and an hour later they stood on the deck gazing at a star studded sky. Reassurance and peace returned as they listened to the calming night sounds of the lake.

The following morning over breakfast Hilda thanked Jenny for sharing what she knew was a particularly painful memory. Jenny commented that these stories must be told and shared. She said being expelled and shunned by one’s family is like receiving a terrible gift. It is a gift that one must spend the rest of one’s life carefully unwrapping. I unwrapped another layer last night and painful as it was to recall those events, it has brought me that much nearer to what I am meant to become.

I have heard another person talk about simular experience. I take it was not fictional. calledoutPTL

You are a very talented writer. Thank you for sharing your writing with the forum.

The story was presented as non-fiction - so I'm going to respond in like manner. I do not doubt that demonic forces are around us more often than we realize. The very nature to be seductive to one person in assuring them that they are doing the 'right' thing to hurt family members through abusive shunning - while terrifying a young girl just moments later - you've captured demonic very very well in your words. Ghost stories are just that - stories. But the demonic - we dare not ignore or laugh it off or blame it on flickering firelight and hushed whispers as being why it affects us. It's real and dangerous.

I'm glad to know that you made it through that trial - and from your writing - I would guess that you made it through many more trials.

May God Bless and Use your writing.

Just incredible writing, its not often I actually get that stomach churning over a story....this feels just like a bestseller in the making. Can't wait to read more of Hilda's friends writings.

I must share with you, that even if the story of Jenny was/is fact or fiction, it depicts what my wife faced in the fall of 1975. I called for doctors care for her, fortunately our family doctor was a 7th Day Adventist, who understood spiritual battles. He was the kindest, loving believer we would first turn to to get a grip on life.

Although a lot of water is under the bridge since then, these memories form part of who we are. Evil spirits are real and they cannot be trifled with. When one steps into this arena, it is impossible not to have to deal with the consequences. But praise God, He is greater then the evil spirits in this world.

I had the privilege of meeting with an H friend Monday of this week; one who stays in touch with me and we had not met for about 3 years. He had tears in his eyes when he referred to the injustices of the 1970's. He said, it should never have happened. This man is an active missionary today, a dedicated church man, and one who understands salvation to its core. But as long as H folks do not corporately face the "spiritual arena" that was stirred years ago, there will be no reconciliation. It is impossible.

If a government or some authority would evict me from my house; later come to apologize, but not return my house to me while continuing to occupy the house; can such really display sincerity ?

I have met "jenny's brother" and looked the devil in the eyes. This tale stirred emotions laid buried for years. She is correct that the telling of the tale is a precious gift to be unwrapped carefully, but certainly unwrapped.

Peter, I did not read Jenny's comments to say or infer the devil to be an individual; only that the devil seemed to be in the back seat of the car. Not sure what you meant to say with your comment; but I will NEVER equate any individual as one of the spirits of the "down underworld".

Hank, get a grip. Have you never heard of a metaphor? Have you not heard of the saying, "the eyes are the windows to the soul"? I have looked in a man's eyes and seen blackness, seen the darkness described in this story.