Cameras Don't Lie

Chapter 1

Someone screamed! High pitched. Terrified. Terrifying.

A loud crash followed. Instinctively Devlin’s hand shot to the camera strap at her shoulder. She threw her half eaten rum and raisin ice-cream into the trashcan and ran towards the noise.

As she turned the corner she saw a broken terracotta planter and black soil fanned out on the white porcelain tiles. Amongst the broken fragments and soil she saw a teenage boy flapping like a frantic goldfish outside its fishbowl. He was foaming at the mouth. His eyes rolled around in their sockets as he slithered in the spilt sand and blood oozed from a deep cut above his left eye. His face took on the appearance of the canvas of a macabre artist on a good day as his saliva mixed with the dirt and blood and smeared over his face. He screamed and tore at his clothes scratching deep blood-red gouges in his chest. Blood spattered as he hit his head repeatedly on the tiles and the hatred of a thousand demons flashed in his black eyes. He spat at those standing around him and the unearthly sounds coming from him made Devlin’s skin crawl. Then she noticed the older man crying to the side. She lifted her camera and clicked the scene.

Horrified expressions were painted on the faces of the onlookers. Children cried. Women stifled gasps and instinctively clutched their babies to their chests. A woman in the crowd pleaded, Somebody do something!

Two burly security guards ran forward. They whipped out their handcuffs to restrain him. But the young boy flung them against the jeweler’s shop window with such force that it buckled under their weight. They got up and again tried to subdue the boy. But it was no good. The strength he had belied his small frame. The boy screamed and rushed forward, striking one on the left cheek. Blood seeped out. They looked at each other and realised it was useless. The older man cried, Brian! Please stop!

Then the boy threw himself down onto the tiles and became rigid, gnashing his teeth. Just the whites of his eyes were visible through snake-like slits. A dark stain crept over the front of his pants. The now large crowd stood bewildered, motionless. Devlin looked on. Not sure of what to do.

A deep calm voice cut into her thoughts. Let me through. A tall man dressed in dark jeans, pale blue shirt and navy jacket made his way through the stunned crowd.

He was composed and confident as he stood in front of the boy. Deaf and dumb spirit, I command you, come out of him and never return!

The boy thrashed around violently spit flying from his mouth, blood curdling groans echoing through the shopping mall and eyes brimming with intense hatred for the man speaking to him. Then suddenly the boy became quiet and lay motionless on the floor. The crowd shuffled straining to get a closer look. A voice in the crowd said what each person was thinking, He is dead.

The tall man paid no attention. He reached down and took the boy’s limp hand. His fingers moved slightly. The boy slowly opened his eyes and looked at the man and then at the wall of faces staring at him. The man pulled the boy to his feet, took off his jacket and placed it around the boy’s shoulders. He led him to the older man who had his hands tightly clenched on each side of his face.

Oh Brian! He grabbed him and held him tightly.

D-ah-d?

His father pulled back from the embrace. Brian? The father looked at the tall man and frowned. He looked back at his son. Had he always been this beautiful?

The stunned crowd watched. So too did Devlin but through the lens of her camera. It was second nature, never wanting to miss that perfect shot. She clicked away. She clicked the crowds talking amongst themselves. The shocked faces at what had just happened. Unsure of what had just happened. She swung her camera back towards the father and son.

Brian couldn’t speak and he was near-deaf. And now he can. How did you do that? The father grabbed the tall man’s hand.

He smiled kindly at the father. How long has your son been like this?

It started when he was two. He would have fits and fall into the pool or the fire. I’ve taken him to so many doctors and even faith healers and spent so much money trying to get him better. But nothing worked.

I know you’ve tried everything. And you felt powerless. You were afraid that he would hurt your wife and daughter.

Deep furrows etched the father’s forehead as he pondered how a stranger could know this about his family. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. His son seemed healed and that was enough for him. He held his son tighter. He just hoped that he would stay that way.

The tall man continued. But today his suffering and your sadness are over. Today your lives have been changed because I have come to give you life and life more abundantly. He that believes in me shall not die but have eternal life.

He turned to face the now large intrigued crowd. They were quiet as they watched him. More security guards had gathered concerned that the growing crowd could become unruly.

Devlin’s shutter encircled every scene. She zoomed in on the tall man’s face and saw compassion in his golden eyes.

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because He has anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted and I know there are many of you here who have hurts that others don’t even know about. Secrets that keep you awake at night. He paused and turned to look in Devlin’s direction, And nightmares from which you feel there is no escape.

Devlin’s finger froze on the button. She lowered her camera. He was still looking in her direction. No, he was looking at her.

I have come to set you free from those nightmares, to release you from those hurts. Sometimes it’s harder to forgive yourself for something than it is to forgive others. He looked at the crowd again. I have come so that you will find freedom from these torments. I am here to show you that today can be the start of a wonderful life, eternal life in fact, if you choose it to be.

He turned to the father and son again. The crowd muttered amongst themselves. Devlin lifted her camera and clicked the confused looks. The awe. The scowls.

We’re going to have to ask you to move along please. The uniformed guards with ready hands on batons walked between the people. Devlin strained to see over the heads of the people as they began dispersing. The crowd pushed and shoved not wanting to move away just yet. They had come to The Vine Mall for an ordinary day’s shopping but had encountered something bizarre. Compelling.

As they made their way to the exit, a little girl with two blonde pigtails tugged at his pants leg. He bent down to pick her up and she hugged his neck tightly. He laughed and tickled her and she seemed mesmerized by him. The girl’s mother yanked her out of his arms. The little girl started to cry. He patted her arm gently and whispered, It’s okay, don’t cry. She stopped immediately.

Move along, move along, the guards insisted intent on getting business flowing through the mall as usual.

The tall man walked outside onto the newly cut lawn. Let me tell you something. The onlookers listened closely. Except you become as that little child in thoughts and deeds you cannot enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. Adults can be so quick to judge their little hearts. Yet their hearts are instinctively aware of the eternal Father. This is why I say it would be easy for you to find me and the Kingdom if you did not have your guard up all the time. These little ones, he turned to the little girl whose face hadn’t stopped beaming, are precious in His sight. They are close to the Father’s heart. Are innocent, yet aware, childlike, yet strong in their belief in me. He turned to the crowd once more. And if anyone harms one of these, it would be better if a ton of cement was tied to his neck and thrown into the deepest ocean. So never look down on one of them. How I wish that adults would keep that kind of faith.

At that moment a young woman walked past him. She was heavily pregnant. He walked over to her and stopped her. And what about these?

He placed a hand on her stomach. He began to weep. What about these who have no voice? Who aren’t allowed a chance to be born? Weren’t they conceived by choice? Yet the choice for them to live and breathe is taken away from them. They’ll never know sunlight on their faces, feel sand between their toes or know what it is to run in the rain.

The crowd was silent and taken aback by his outspokenness. But no one ventured anything. Devlin clicked the scene.

I love these too. He removed his hand and looked at the young woman. Be blessed as you bring your son into the world. He will bring you much joy even though you have concerns of how you are going to provide for him. He touched her face softly. Devlin could see how moved she was. The camera’s shutter snapped hungrily.

How do you know it’s a boy? She asked.

I know all things. I know that you will do well as a mother even though your mother abandoned you as a child. Don’t think for a moment that you will repeat her actions. You are not her, he said firmly.

She held onto his forearm. Can you bless my baby please?

I’ve created him and all that he is to be, and I have covered him and placed him within you. Children are an inheritance from God and the son you have inside you is His reward and joy. Raise him in the knowledge of God. Don’t be afraid. I’ll give you the strength to see it through. Just believe.

The young woman’s face gleamed. His words touched her deeply and the fears of how she was going to raise her baby were erased by a stranger’s uncanny ability to know her unspoken fears.

Devlin recognised a front-page story and pushed through the people to get to him.

Excuse me, she said to him. I’m Devlin Cole, freelance writer for The Spring Times. May I ask you a few questions? She pointed to her camera and ‘PRESS’ badge.

He nodded and pointed to the nearby bench. Devlin sat down beside him and took out her cell phone and pressed ‘record’.

I think everyone here is wondering what just happened. I want to know, did you really heal that boy? Do you work for some organisation? Or was this a publicity stunt?

Calmly and confidently he answered, Devlin, my name is Adam and one thing I can assure you, this was no publicity stunt and I represent no organisation. I’ve come from my Father and to do what He’s asked me to do. That is all. Nothing more and nothing less. He settled himself against the bench backrest. There was a silent determination in the golden eyes as he watched the people dispersing. The father and son were standing nearby with a group of people eager to hear more.

Devlin frowned. If you say you healed that boy, can you say how you did it? Do you practice magic of some kind?

He turned to look at her. Devlin there’s no magic involved. I suppose one can say that the elation the healed person feels is magical. He smiled mischievously.

Devlin thought carefully about her next question. She needed precise answers. Not convinced that this wasn’t a publicity stunt of some kind, she asked, So you don’t work for a specific company then?

I work for no-one. I’m from another Kingdom, a Kingdom not of this world. A place to which I’ll return and those who accept me will be able to join me there. When you were little, were you not taught about that Kingdom? ‘Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, as it is on earth as it is in Heaven?’

Devlin’s heart skipped a beat. Her mind flashed back to happy times. Her mother sitting on the bed with her. Devlin’s head bowed as she recited ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ and then hugs and kisses and tuck-ins.

That was a long time ago, Devlin snapped. Just as quickly, her mind shifted back to interview mode.

So are you saying that you’re from Heaven? She checked that her cell phone was still recording.

Adam nodded. Yes Devlin, that’s exactly what I’m saying.

Are you not concerned that people are going to think you’re crazy if you talk this way?

Do you think that little girl knows who I am and where I come from? I’m a stranger to her, yet she comes to me with open arms. With innocent trust. Isn’t that child-like faith? Isn’t that what gets you into heaven? That’s what I’m talking about. A child knows instinctively that there’s a God. They sense it. They’re born with it. Because that’s what mankind was created for. Relationship. God said, ‘Let’s make man in our own image.’ And man was created. The problem is this. The child grows up. He replaces the relationship that he’s supposed to have with God, with materialistic things. With big homes, lots of money, the latest gadget, and then he expects to get the same happiness with those things that he would have had if he maintained his relationship with God. Those things are a sad and inadequate substitute.

Devlin thought about his answer and considered her next question.

Devlin you have to have faith. Everyone has a degree of faith. Each one will believe as much as he needs to believe for his or her miracle. And faith increases as you get closer to the Giver of faith.

Devlin didn’t want to talk about faith. It was something that had disappeared fractionally as the years were added to her life. She changed the subject.

Referring to the pregnant woman, don’t you think speaking out like this is going to upset certain organizations?

I speak on behalf of life Devlin. I am the giver of life, and life abundantly. One day I will give up my life so people can have eternal life. My Father and I created all life in the beginning and we celebrate life. What people do with the life they are given is their choice. But what many suffer with, are the consequences from what they’ve chosen to do with that life, either their own, or the lives that have been entrusted to them. I told that young woman that all children are a blessing from God. How can that blessing be so easily destroyed? His golden eyes looked deeply into hers. Devlin, you wonder the same.

He stood up. He looked weary. He was ending the interview. Can I get another photo of you with the father and son? She stood up.

Yes, off course. Adam stood up and motioned to the father and son to come closer. It seemed as if neither had stopped smiling.

Adam stood between the father and son and placed an arm across each of their shoulders. She clicked the threesome and lowered her camera. Adam walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. I’m sure that we’ll see each other again Devlin. Everyone needs a miracle. Keep believing for yours and it will happen. He smiled at her.

They shook hands. Thank you for your time Adam. May I ask your permission to place a photo and article in the newspaper?

Yes you may because the time has come for the world to know the truth and the truth is the only thing that will set them free.

Devlin watched as Adam walked away. Either she had witnessed a great con artist at work or a genuine miracle. She was still on the fence with that.

With the precise manner in which she handled every article, Devlin felt she needed more information. She sat with the father and son awhile on the bench and listened as the father recounted the many times that he had to protect himself and wife and daughter from his son’s outbursts. The times he had to take him to the hospital for self-inflicted burn and stab wounds. The boy pulled up his sleeve to reveal dark scars. Devlin got all the info she needed for her article and when she spent time later piecing it together, she gained an insight into why the father had such a deep gratitude. Con-artist or not, their lives would never be the same and they would never forget a stranger’s kindness and the miracle they believed they had just received.

She flagged the email to Carter at The Spring Times ‘urgent’ and clicked ‘send’. She sat back in her chair and twirled a thick auburn curl around her fingers and gave her encounter with Adam some more thought.

Hey you. Jake came in and swung her swivel chair around to face her and bent down and kissed her. What are you up to? Deep in thought. Must be interesting. He pulled up a chair.

Mm, rather, she clicked on the folder icon that said ‘Adam’. Look at these, she pointed to the photos she had taken earlier and recounted what happened. He listened as he scrolled through the photos.

He frowned. Wow you sure get some crackpots nowadays. From which sanatorium did you say he escaped? He laughed and swung around on the swivel chair.

Devlin smacked him on his shoulder as he spun around.

Hey, it’s not for you to call him a crackpot. I reported what I saw and what he said.

But that’s exactly what the reader is going to think Pix. You know that, he said as he tapped the tip of her nose. The little freckles there had always appealed to him.

Enough work for now. He pulled her out of her chair and hugged her tightly.

You’re going to have beautiful children, his parents had told them when they had married. Jake, tall with jet black hair and tanned and fit from golf and jogging and Devlin’s taut physique echoed the results of many yoga classes. His parents were still waiting for the children. Ten years later. No nursery to paint and no baby names to choose. They had given up asking when they were going to be grandparents. They’d reached the conclusion that they weren’t interested in having children and that their businesses and careers came first. They weren’t wrong. But they weren’t entirely right either.

Jake had spent long hours establishing his shipping company and it was now well known for its ethical protocol and on-time delivery. And for the past eight years Devlin’s ‘Pixel Art Studio’ had become synonymous with turning the ordinary photograph into the exceptional. Along with her other commissions, she had become first-choice for anxious brides who wanted their wedding day to outshine any gone before.

Devlin hadn’t set out to do photography. Her love for photography had grown as she followed stories for her journalism projects at university. She realised the uniqueness of capturing a moment in time that would never be repeated. A frozen moment, as she liked to call it. And so Pixel Art Studio was born. She was still able to do freelance reporting for The Spring Times and felt blessed that she could exercise both her loves. She’d met Jake at the university and it was love at first sight for her.

So what’s for supper? Jake said as he looked down at her.

Not sure. Let’s go find out.

She switched off the light and closed the door.

Her frozen moments would be there the next day.

Chapter 2

The spring sun sifted through the lace curtain at the window and stenciled shadows on the kitchen table where Devlin sat. She sipped her coffee and pulled The Spring Times closer. She read. Miracle or fable? Healing at The Vine Mall.

Good morning Pix. Jake dropped a kiss on the top of her head as he headed to the kettle for his second cup of coffee.

I saw your front page. Congrats. Carter is normally stingy with those.

Yes he is, she munched her honey toast. But I suppose you don’t often get to hear of someone who says he can heal.

She read further. Carter had used most of the information she’d supplied, editing slightly.

Jake sat down at the table. Are you sure this nut, sorry, man is not working for a pro-life organization and didn’t use the crowd he’d gathered from his alleged miracle, to provide a platform to deliver his speech? Face it; he could stand on some prickly toes.

He says he’s not. Perhaps he’s just speaking his mind.

But to say something so specific in public is bound to raise some eyebrows. You know what they say about this sort of thing. What the women do with their bodies is their choice.

She looked at the man that had stolen her heart so many years ago. Are you saying it’s okay?

What is?

Jay, you know what I mean. Do you think it’s okay to terminate? You’ve never said anything about it before.

He placed his cup in the sink. We’ve never had to speak about that side of things before. He bent down to kiss her and in a soft tone said, I know this is a sensitive subject for you. But I’m just mentioning what’s been legislated. And no. I don’t think it’s right. Okay?

She smiled. She felt better. It wouldn’t feel right if he was okay with abortion. She shook her head and tried to erase that thought.

What have you got planned for your day? she asked and she drank the last bit of coffee.

I need to go through my convention notes and make contact with the two men I met there and see what it could mean for Square Route.

Devlin’s cellphone rang.

Hello, Devlin Cole speaking.

Hello Mrs Cole. It’s Jenny from Dr Morritstone’s rooms. Just a reminder about your appointment this afternoon at three.

Devlin sighed and her shoulders dropped a little.

Oh yes, I’d forgotten. Yes, I’ll be there. Thanks for the reminder.

She had forgotten. Wanted to forget. Why did she bother going? It was the same questions, the same answers, the same outcome. Maybe she should phone back and cancel? Okay, one more appointment and be done.

Gator, the tan Labrador nuzzled against her leg. She rubbed his head. Okay, okay, you’ll get your breakfast. She got up and fed him. Where’s Zinger?

Zinger looked up from his doggy bed in the corner of the scullery. He was the lazier of the two brothers rescued from the pound. Whereas Gator was tan, Zinger was as dark as a winter’s night. Although fully grown at one year old, they were still puppies at heart, wonderfully natured and incredibly intuitive.

I hope you get some good business from your contacts. That would be wonderful. You should do something special for your 10th year anniversary, don’t you think?

Jake nodded. That’s not a bad idea Pixie. Pixie was the nickname that he’d given her when she opened Pixel Art Studio. This prompted her to use a pixie as her logo because she believed that she could weave magic with people’s memories and she felt the logo tied in nicely with that concept.

Very good idea. I’ll play around with it. But got to run now. Gator protested as Jake bent down to kiss Devlin. He was the more jealous of the two labs. They both laughed and parted ways for the day.

Him, to make new contacts.

Her, to visit the white-coated man.

Again.

Chapter 3

Good afternoon Mrs Cole, Jenny said as Devlin arrived at the doctor’s rooms.

Hi Jenny, how are you? Devlin settled down on the soft, luxurious sofa. She could see where her money was going.

Fine thank you. Dr Morritstone will be with you in a few minutes. The phone rang. Excuse me.

Devlin nodded and picked up one of the glossy magazines. How many times hadn’t she sat in this sofa and flicked through magazines anxiously awaiting results? It seemed so futile. And today she felt like giving up. It was no use. She sighed.

Dr Morritstone’s door opened and a woman walked out. Thank you, oh thank you so much, she said as she wiped away tears with an already soggy pink tissue. You have no idea how much this means to me and my husband. No idea. Dr Morritstone smiled back at her.

Mrs Troy, you are welcome. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer couple. He glanced over at Devlin and nodded acknowledgement. Keep well, and I’ll see you in a month’s time.

She scratched around in her bag for another tissue and waved to Jenny as she left. Jenny waved back and handed a thick file to Dr Morritstone. Devlin knew it was hers. Thick, foreboding, depressing.

Devlin, how are you? Devlin placed her magazine on the table and stood up. They hugged.

Hello Peter. I’m fine thanks how are you? Devlin walked into his surgery. He closed the door behind them.

Well thanks, he said as he settled into his leather chair. So tell me Dev, how have you found the new meds?

She crossed her legs and tried to get comfortable. This was another chair she’d sat in one too many times.

I feel fine Peter. I’ve had none of the side effects that you thought there might be. So I guess I can’t complain.

He opened the large file in front of him and ran his index finger down the long list of medicines that they had tried. Well that’s a good sign. I think we’ll keep to these for the next few months and watch the progress. Then we’ll do some more bloodwork and take it from there. But I think we’re on the right track. But for now, hop on up and let’s take a better look shall we?

Devlin sighed. She still couldn’t get used to the prodding of a cold steel instrument that seemed to have lost its way in a maze and was frantically hunting for an exit.

Get undressed so long, I’ll be back.

Devlin covered herself with the exam sheet and lay listening to the classical music from the stereo on the cabinet nearby. She wiped away a tear. I should just give up, she thought. "How many more years must I go through this? They will never find out what is wrong with me. I should stop fighting. She closed her eyes. The door opened and Dr Morritstone sat down on the stool next to the examination bed and put on surgical gloves.

Okay, relax love. Let’s have a quick look. She kept her eyes closed and reminded herself why she was doing this, why she was going through these tests and examinations. It was easier not to watch his reaction to the grey and black images on the screen just to her right. Dash it all, I wish this darn lost instrument had a road map. She thought. She had an imagination to call upon when she needed it. And she needed it now.

Okay, all done. Everything looks good and in fact, I’d say that the uterus lining seems to have thickened by a couple of millimeters. That’s really encouraging. I haven’t seen that happen in a long time. He covered her with the exam blanket, whipped off his gloves with an elastic ping and threw them into the bin.

"That’s a good