Jezebel (34 page)

A
s he drove to the house, Traynor thought back to the first time he ever saw Jessie Belle. She was so beautiful. For him, it had been love at first sight and he married her quickly because he feared losing her if they waited.

But the Jessie Belle he'd seen yesterday no longer possessed an ugly soul. She was a very different person from the woman he'd married. He prayed that God would continue to work within her.

And in me,
he added silently.
Help me to completely forgive my wife
.

Traynor knew he would never forget all she'd done, but he didn't want to throw Jessie Belle's wrongdoing in her face. Doing so would mean he had not truly forgiven her.

He'd been looking forward to their date all day. Traynor had always enjoyed Jessie Belle's company and he missed seeing her every day.

His heart began to race as he turned on the street leading to his house and noticed the police cars parked in front of it. Traynor could see flashing lights and hear sirens in the distance. His heart dropped.

Oh Lord…what did she do this time? he wondered.

As he neared his house, Traynor spotted a team of police gathered in his yard, while paramedics appeared to be working on someone lying beneath the balcony outside his bedroom. He climbed out of his car and began walking toward the house, his pace rushed and steady.

Traynor recognized his son's car parked in the circular driveway. The pace of his footsteps quickened and he sprinted across the lawn.

A uniformed policeman stepped into his path. “Sir, I'm sorry, but you can't come up here—”

“This is my house,” Traynor interjected. “I demand to know what happened here.” As an afterthought, he quickly added, “I'm Pastor Traynor Deveraux. Who is that lying over there? Is that my son?”

“Father…”

Traynor turned in the direction that the voice came from. “Holt…thank the Lord. You're okay.”

“It's Mom. Somebody pushed her over the balcony.”

Traynor stared at his son in disbelief.

“Somebody tried to kill her. I just came by here to check on her.” Holt's eyes filled with tears. “I found her lying out here. I don't know how long…how long she's been out here.”

The world came to a crashing halt for Traynor. “Is she…?”

Holt shook his head. “I don't know. They're working on her and they won't tell me anything. She was still alive, I think. Dad…”

Traynor began to pray. He and Jessie Belle both would need the strength of the Lord to get them through this.

Jessie Belle swam in and out of consciousness.

There were times she felt intense pain and other times when she felt like she was floating above the clouds.

Through the haze she heard voices, low and indistinguishable. Jessie Belle tried to follow the one voice she did know.

Her husband's.

Traynor's voice ebbed in and out of the darkness. In her more lucid moments, she tried to call out for him, but no sound would spill from her lips.

She slipped back into the unknown.

Jessie Belle was in a coma.

The doctors had done everything they could to save her, but told Traynor that they weren't sure she would regain consciousness, as her blood oxygen levels were too low to sustain life.

Traynor sat at her bedside and held her hand, praying that God would give her the strength to survive.

They'd rushed her to surgery two days ago, hoping to repair the three broken vertebrae, and she'd had to endure a second surgery this morning. The doctors informed him that she would probably be fully paralyzed.

Traynor's eyes filled with unshed tears.

For every action, there is a consequence. Jessie Belle's lies and manipulations led her here.

The police still had no leads on the person responsible for the attempt on his wife's life. Nothing had been stolen, so it was personal. Traynor couldn't deny that Jessie Belle had made a lot of enemies over the years.

But he didn't tell the police that.

Together, he and Holt had decided to burn the contents of the second drawer in the file cabinet to protect her life or her memory.

The door to the hospital room opened.

Holt and Frankie walked inside.

“How is she doing today, Father?”

Traynor wiped his eyes. “They don't think she's going to make it through the night.”

Holt placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and said, “We need to ask God what He has to say about this.”

Traynor stood on one side of the bed holding Jessie Belle's hand, while Holt and Frankie were on the other side.

They prayed for her strength and her courage. They prayed for God to lay His healing hands on Jessie Belle.

Traynor told her, “In my heart, you are still the beautiful angel I met all those years ago in Mayville, Georgia. I am still your husband, Jessie Belle, and I'm not going to just let you die. I know you're tired, sweetheart, but don't give up. Fight, baby. Come back to me. I need you, Jessie Belle.”

“Mother, I still need you,” Holt stated. “We are not going to let you just leave us. You have always been stubborn and a fighter. Well, we need you to fight your way back to us now.”

As she lay there in deep coma, Traynor continued talking to her. “God's Word is real, Jessie Belle. The Bible is God's Word and is a true account of God's dealings with man. I want you to remember that God loves you so much and once you leave this earth—it's too late to build a relationship with Jesus. God has pressed on my spirit that He's not going to let you die. He's not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

“Did you hear that, Mother? God is not ready for you to leave us. You need to wake up.”

Frankie wiped away her tears.

Traynor placed his hand on Jessie Belle's forehead and began praying once more. He wasn't asking Jesus to heal her but declaring it already done and giving God the praise.

He soon felt a blessed sense of peace and wholeness overtake him. Traynor sat down. “Thank You, Father, for Your grace and Your mercy. Thank You, God. Thank You.”

Still holding on to her hand, Holt began singing softly.

The next day, Jessie Belle's blood oxygen levels had returned to normal, surprising the medical staff, who'd just lost someone else with the same condition.

Traynor, Holt and Frankie continued praying for her. By the evening of the next day, Jessie Belle had been disconnected from all life-support machinery except for an apparatus to assist her breathing.

Jessie Belle began responding to their voices.

It was a miracle!

Traynor couldn't stop praising God for all He'd done. Jessie Belle still had a heavy burden to bear, but at least she was alive.

That evening, Mary Ellen came to the hospital. “I jumped on a plane as soon as I heard,” she told Traynor. “I had to be here for Jessie Belle. We've been through some craziness, but I still love her.”

Traynor embraced her. “Thank you for coming, Mary Ellen. She's really missed you over the years. And she's changed—she's not the same person you knew.”

“Praise God,” Mary Ellen murmured. “I've been praying for her.”

An hour later, they received more good news. Jessie Belle was now opening one eye from time to time.

“Thank You, God,” Traynor uttered. He continued to believe in her healing.

Frankie persuaded Traynor to go home and get some sleep in a real bed for the night. “You and Holt have been here around the clock. I'll stay with her tonight.”

“Who has the baby?”

“My sister's here. She knew that I'd want to be here to help you and Holt.” Steering him toward the door, Frankie said, “I'll call you if anything comes up.”

“I'll be back first thing in the morning.”

“Take your time.”

He embraced her. “Thank you, Frankie. I appreciate it.”

“We're family.”

He nodded and left, but Traynor was back at the hospital bright and early the next day. Holt and Mary Ellen arrived a few minutes later.

Shortly after Frankie left, Jessie Belle regained complete consciousness.

All Traynor could say was, “Praise the Lord!”

No matter how hard she tried, Jessie Belle couldn't move. She glanced up at the nurse, who said, “The doctor will be here in a few minutes.”

Traynor, Holt and Mary Ellen walked into the room.

“I'm so glad to see those beautiful eyes of yours,” Traynor said, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Welcome back, sweetheart.”

“Can't m-move,” Jessie Belle wanted to say but couldn't because of the ventilator.

The doctor entered the room before Traynor could say more.

Holt and Mary Ellen left the room so that he could examine Jessie Belle, who continued to watch Traynor. She tried to reach out to him, but couldn't lift her arms.

She soon found out why.

The doctor gave her the news that she had three broken vertebrae and had undergone two surgeries—one a tracheotomy. When he told her that she was left fully paralyzed and not able to breathe on her own due to the head and neck injuries in the fifteen-foot fall off the second-story balcony of her home, Jessie Belle felt like she would lose her mind.

She was nothing more than a vegetable. Death would've been better than this.

Traynor dried her tears and told her over and over how much he loved her. Jessie Belle turned away from him. She didn't want his pity.

He didn't leave her side.

Holt and Mary Ellen joined him and they continued to speak life over her. But Jessie Belle didn't want to live. She had nothing left to offer anyone.

J
essie Belle returned home in early October from a rehabilitation center at Rex Hospital, where she'd been undergoing therapy since mid-June after spending over a month in the intensive care unit.

Whenever Jessie Belle got upset over her situation, Traynor would mention what a blessing it was that her spinal cord had not been severed during the fall. He felt she should be thankful for that.

I've had to endure two surgeries—a tracheotomy and the repair of three broken vertebrae. I'm confined to a wheelchair that I can only move by blowing into a straw and I'm on a ventilator. For this, I should be grateful?

Jessie Belle was angry. She'd repented of her sins and changed her life for the better. God's judgment of her was cruel and harsh.

Surely death would have been a better punishment.
What kind of life is this?

Although Traynor was trying to keep his voice low, Jessie Belle could hear him talking to someone on the telephone.

“She's doing well,” he was saying. “I just thank God…. Her mind is perfect. Her voice wasn't affected much and there's nothing really physically wrong with her aside from the paralysis. I truly believe she survived all of this just to be a testimony to all of us.”

Jessie Belle's eyes filled with tears.

“She's going to continue to receive therapy at home. The doctors will be working to wean her off the ventilator and get Jessie Belle moving on her own again. I'm still praying for a miracle that she'll get the feeling back in her arms and legs and walk again. I need to check on her, but thanks so much for calling, Deacon Daniels. I know Jessie Belle appreciates all the flowers, cards and expressions of love she's received from the church members.”

Traynor hung up the telephone, then walked over to the bed. “Hey. I thought you were in here sleeping. I just spoke to Deacon Daniels. He wanted to let you know that he and his wife are thinking of you. Mary Ellen called earlier. She's going to try to fly down here this weekend to see you.”

Mary Ellen had visited her several times over the past months. She sent her cards and notes of inspiration almost weekly. Despite all Jessie Belle had done, her friend was there when she needed her the most.

“Are you in any discomfort?” Traynor inquired. He felt like a heel for asking her something like that. She was paralyzed—Jessie Belle didn't feel anything from the chest down.

“No,” she whispered.

Jessie Belle couldn't talk very loud, so he moved close enough to hear her words.

Traynor sat down on the edge of the bed. “Sweetheart, I have to tell you…I'm overwhelmed with the support we've both received throughout this entire experience,” he stated. “Everyone has really reached out to help us in any way they can. Jessie Belle, it's wonderful. People all over the world have been helping and praying for you. Their compassion and love have been unbelievable.”

“It's so nice,” she murmured. “I appreciate it.”

“We have had a bunch of people volunteer to make the necessary renovations to make the house handicapped-accessible for you.”

Jessie Belle's eyes teared up a second time.

“Sweetheart, you're not alone in this,” Traynor said as he gently dabbed at her eyes.

“You're injured, but life will go on, Jessie Belle. We've hit some rough spots in our lives before, and through the grace of God, we made it through. We'll work together to get through this, too. You're still the same woman I married twenty-seven years ago.”

Traynor grinned before adding, “You never liked dancing much anyway.”

He was trying so hard to be happy, but Jessie Belle knew this was challenging for him as well. He still loved her—she saw it every time Traynor looked at her. He deserved so much more, but he was all she had. She couldn't just go on with her own life. Jessie Belle was helpless.

She wished that God had allowed her to die.

Traynor prayed for a way to rid Jessie Belle of her depression.

He couldn't imagine what she was going through, but it pained him to see her so sad.

My heart bleeds for her
.

She had aged considerably since the fall. Her hair had grayed, giving it a dull brown appearance. Nonetheless, he still found her attractive. Jessie Belle was still the love of his life, even though she tried to push him away at times, even to the point of asking him to put her in a home and seek a divorce.

But Traynor refused to abandon her. He reminded her that he married her for better or worse. He was still committed to his marriage and devoted to being her rock.

Traynor continued to lift her up in prayer, asking for Jessie Belle's strength and for the spirit of depression to leave her body.

He kept his emotions in check until he was downstairs alone. Traynor wiped the water from his eyes. “God, I know that You will be glorified in this somehow and someway. I may not see it right now, but You will have the victory.”

Traynor took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I have to believe it because Your word says so. I have to believe it.”

On her good days, Traynor took Jessie Belle outside for a ride around the neighborhood, hoping just being outdoors would remind her of how much she loved admiring the beauty of God's handiwork.

Jessie Belle could feel herself falling into the black abyss. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound would come out.

She came awake with a start.

Eight months passed since the attempt on her life, and the police still had no leads. The killer was still out there and his identity a secret.

Jessie Belle heard a noise.

Traynor was away at the church and she had no idea where the nurse was.

It's Cathy,
she kept telling herself.
It's just the nurse
.

Her fear dissipating, Jessie Belle sighed in relief when Cathy entered the bedroom carrying a large poinsettia.

“Mrs. Deveraux, how are you doing this morning?” she asked, opening the curtains.

“Fine,” she answered. “Is Traynor still here?”

“No, ma'am. He left about five minutes ago. I bought you some poinsettias for your room.”

Jessie Belle smiled in gratitude. “Christmas used to be my favorite time of year. I looked forward to decorating the house and the tree. I always went overboard, you know.”

Cathy agreed. “I'm the same way. If you'd like—just tell me where you want everything to go and we'll get it decorated just the way you like it, Mrs. Deveraux.”

“Thank you,” Jessie Belle murmured.

The nurse prepared to give Jessie Belle her bath.

She was so humiliated over having to have a complete stranger live in her home to care for her.

The ordeal over and Jessie Belle in a jogging suit, Cathy put her in the wheelchair and pushed her out of the room.

Traynor had had an elevator installed in the home.

They took it down to the first floor and navigated to the kitchen, where Cathy had breakfast ready for Jessie Belle.

She sat down at the table to feed her because Jessie Belle was unable to do it herself.

After breakfast, Cathy gave Jessie Belle her medicine and then took her on a stroll around the neighborhood.

I deserve this, I know, but Lord…

Jessie Belle fought back her tears. She was trapped inside a useless body. “I can't live like this.”

It was a moment before she realized she'd actually said the words out loud.

Cathy rubbed her shoulders. “Honey, just take it one day at a time.”

She wiped away the lone tear that escaped Jessie Belle's right eye.

“There's this part of me inside shouting that I'm alive, but I can't move. I can't do anything for myself. I've always taken care of me, Cathy.”

She gave an understanding nod. “Mr. Deveraux told me that you were very independent.”

“I'm being punished for my sins.”

“Mrs. Deveraux, God isn't like that. He loves us.”

“He isn't being unfair,” Jessie Belle stated. “I deserve this and more. I wasn't a nice person before the fall. That's why someone tried to kill me.”

Cathy gave her a hug.

“Mrs. Deveraux, once we admit our shortcomings, we have to relinquish all of them to God. Then we reach out and accept His cleansing forgiveness. Honey, God is always willing to forgive us. He's waiting and ready to embrace us. Even the worst kind of sinner can walk into His open arms. No matter how wrong our actions, the Lord will always forgive and restore us if we are sincere and humble ourselves.”

Traynor had said those same words in many of his sermons over the years. So had her father. Despite having been in church her entire life, Jessie Belle felt like she was hearing them for the first time.
After everything I've done, God welcomed me back with open arms. He also allowed me to suffer the consequences of my actions.

Galations 6:7 came to Jessie Belle's mind.
Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows
. She knew well enough through her experiences in a farming community that no seed can produce except after its own kind. Jessie Belle knew from Traynor's sermons that one cannot sow to the flesh and reap from the Spirit.

It just never hit home until now.