Chronicles
of the
Children
of Destiny
The Cherubim
Rachael
‘Daughter of
Eve’
by Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly
http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com
© 6175 SC Noahide Books
Prologue
The Cherubim
Rachael was on God’s mind. She was the
missing one – the one the whole angelic community of the Realm of Eternity
longed after to find – in a sense – completion.
God knew that the number of Cherubim was complete, but he also had long
ago planned the next community amongst the children of the Realm of
Eternity. They were to be the
‘Ketravim’. The Cherubim Rachael would
come into the fulfilment of that work in a most significant way. Rachael had existed in God’s heart for a
great and long while – but her birth had not come into any of the realm’s he
had created. She was a Cherubim – an
angel – but her birth would not be within the angelic community but, instead,
within the human community. She would
begin as a human being – that would be her birthright. But her angelic spirit would grow within her
until, through what he had planned for her destiny, she became the Cherubim
Rachael
Chapter One
‘Rachel Bradlock. That is
your name then, is it?’ Rachel looked at
the customs officer at the Sydney airport terminal. ‘Well, yes it is.’ ‘And are you single, partnered or
married?’ ‘I don’t know if I can answer
that,’ Rachel replied, the tone of sorrow in her voice apparent to the customs
officer. ‘It’s a straight-forward
question, dear.’ ‘Well, my husband is,
well – missing. He was with me – and
then he was gone. And I have never seen
him since.’ ‘So he is a missing person
then.’ ‘Something like that,’ she
replied. ‘Did you report that to the UK
Police?’ ‘Yes, they have all the
details.’ ‘Fine, well, everything in
your luggage appears to be in order. You
are cleared for entry into Australia. We
hope you will enjoy your visit and remember, Australia gladly welcomes all
visiting internationals. Enjoy your
stay.’
Rachel picked up her luggage and started making her way towards the
terminal exit. Although the final part
of her trip from Heathrow airport was to Canberra, she had decided she would
travel via bus from Sydney to Canberra, instead of flying down. She had travelled that way when she had first
visited Canberra in 2001, seeing her cousin Daniel Rothchild, her Uncle
Alexander’s son.
With the disappearance of Callodyn, she needed to talk with the
deepest friend she had which, surprisingly, was not her mother Celia. Daniel had visited Rachel in Crossden a
number of times since Rachel was very young.
He was nearly the same age as Callodyn, which perhaps meant something to
Rachel. Daniel always put Rachel’s heart
at peace and rest. He was a strong
believer, like her brother Jeremy, in the power of God. Daniel had attended Pentecostal churches
since a young age, and prayed fervently for his cousin, always encouraging her
to love others and to practice mercy, friendliness and gentleness. He was warm and kind-hearted and wished the
very best for her in life, so he always told her.
Daniel was now a firm Messianic Pentecostal. A Jewish, torah-observant, Christian. Growing up, like Rachel, he had been brought
up a nominal Church of England follower.
Their family were Jewish converts to Anglicanism from the mid
1800s. The old story in there households
was that ‘old Eli Rothchild’ had been given a vision of the ‘Christ’ and had
seen to it that his family were to be saved.
The actual story of that encounter had been retold in many different
forms, which often made Rachel question just what had actually made Eli
convert. She assumed she would find out
in the next life. Her uncle Alexander
had moved to Australia a few years before Rachel had been born. Daniel had spent his life there, visiting
Wales often. Like his family, he
attended the Anglican church until 13 years of age, at which point he joined
the Canberra ‘Grace Christian Fellowship’, and stated he had ‘Really’ found
God. Whatever that meant, his change in
behaviour had generally been noticed, from that of a shy, gentle lad – to a
passionate, outgoing young man, full of life.
And now he attended the synagogue in Canberra every Sabbath to
honour ‘El Shaddai’s’ ancient covenant.
Rachel felt that Daniel really needed to ground himself on
something and stop changing religions all the time. In there conversations she told him time and
time again that ‘Stability’ was essential in a religion. Continuity of faith needed to be
practiced. Daniel defended himself by
stating that his faith had changed with new understanding, but Rachel was
unconvinced, being of the view that all Religions were basically the same in
the end – they all went back to God – and that it didn’t really matter the
choice you made, as long as you stuck with it.
Coming through the exit of the terminal, Rachel hailed a Taxi. She asked the driver to take her to the Hotel
she would be staying at, before leaving for Canberra the following morning. She was very tired and needed to rest before
the last leg of her journey, although that would only have been a few extra
hours anyway.
As they drove through Sydney, she looked out over the city she had
seen a decade earlier. It seemed the
same – very little change. Although she
assumed she would probably not know any changes, even if they had been pointed
out to her. And she noticed something as
well – something which her beloved had pointed out to her in the months before
he went missing. Something about the
‘spirit’ of a place in what he called ‘animistic’ terminology. It seemed, and now that she had become aware
of it, had come to agree, that places – peoples – animals – cultures – all had
a spiritual reality associated with them.
What was often called the ‘ambience’ of a place was, in reality, a very
tangible spirit – an essence – which could be felt and which was very readibly
discernible to people once it was pointed out to them. Especially as they became aware of other
differing spirits – spirits which they often reflected later that they had
known all their lives. These spiritual
feelings were quite tangible to Callodyn, so he had told her. To him, they had been alive. A very active and real part of his life. Rachel, who had found the subject a little
different at first, quickly came to understand exactly what he said, noticing
the spirit in Crossden as compared with Beltingham. And then noticing, something which she had
presumably taken for granted all her life, all sorts of other familiar feelings
and sensations – sensations that came and went through her life, especially
rekindled ones from childhood.
For Rachel, such realities gave her a reason to reshape her views
on the spiritual realm. She had
generally always believed in God – but had never really been taken to a great
‘spiritual’ awakening. For her, God had
been something of an old ‘Father’ figure – or perhaps ‘Grand-Father’
figure. Remote and distant. Not interfering with humanity in any real
way, but doing his job of being that old ancient of days to whom appropriate
hymns were sung. The God of old England
– ancient Yahweh. And in this idea of
God, any real spiritual realities were, while technically admitted as being
true, not really believed upon in the heart.
Recently, she had summed up, that while she did believe in God – she
hadn’t really any evidence to show that it was anything approaching the
‘Living’ kind of faith which Jeremy her brother spoke of.
But what Callodyn had taught her had started to change her
thinking. What she felt were the
spiritual realities that really did appear to be noticeable in life, made her
start to believe that maybe God was alive in a way that she had previously not
even granted him the right of being.
As she was being driven through Sydney to her Hotel, she indeed
noticed the ambience. It felt familiar. It was, essentially, the same she had felt a
decade ago. And it was so Australian in
nature to her. Like the land – the
people and the culture. Everything about
the spirit felt like it had molded the nation and made it as it wanted it to
be. Made it to reflect its own
nature. Such was the same, so she felt,
for Crossden and Beltingham, as well as Wales and the other places she was
familiar with.
Soon she arrived at the Hotel – or more precisely, Hostel, if the
term was the same in Australia. It was part
of a growing chain throughout the world that had also found a home in
Crossden. The ‘Samaritans’ hostel.
She chose it specifically because Callodyn had stayed at that place
back in Crossden, and she wanted to be reminded of her love whenever and wherever
possible. Callodyn had shared with her
the unique story of the founding of the chain.
Since she was young, when it had first come to Crossden, she had assumed
like everyone else it was named after the ‘Good Samaritan’ of Christ’s
parable. But, apparently, no. It was founded by the actual Samaritan
movement itself, something which she knew next to nothing about. They were, so Callodyn said, a very inward
focused tiny little sect of the Israelite – not Jewish – but Israelite
people. But, so they now said, the Taheb
had arrived and was starting to work out into the world to fulfil his people’s
hopes and dreams. Callodyn said the
‘Taheb’ was similar to the Jewish Messiah concept, but not quite the same. Whatever else, Rachel had found them extremely
loving in their business ethics, showing real and genuine concern for everyone
who came their way. They were greatly
dedicated, as their mission statement said, to healing the lost, lonely and
broken-hearted. And of course, the
soundtrack to the musical ‘Joseph and his amazing technicolour dreamcoat’,
seemed to be mandatory listening almost whenever you were at the hostel. Something to do with ‘Joseph’, Callodyn had
said.
Entering the hostel, unsurprisingly, the soundtrack was playing
softly over the in-house speakers. She
smiled to herself – they were consistent, at least.
At the front desk, a young lady of about 19 or 20 greeted her. ‘Hello friend. Have you made a booking or are you looking
for a room for the night?’ ‘Yes. My name is Rachel Bradlock. I have booked a room for tonight. I rang a few days ago from Wales.’ The lady looked at the computer screen in
front of her and started tapping away at the keyboard. ‘Rachel Bradlock, was it?’ ‘Yes – that is I.’ ‘Yes, as you requested, room 22. I see you have paid in advance, so that
pretty much covers it. You are allowed a
number of free local calls from the telephone here at this desk, generally at
our discretion. We try to allow as many
as people need to make to run their lives to a reasonable extent. We can’t afford astronomical phone bills, so
there is a limit. But generally you can
make as many local phone calls as you want.
For international, though, we can’t really afford that in the
budget. We are totally a not-for-profit
hostel, aimed at serving the general public.
But we don’t live on air either, and still have to cover basic
costs. So, if you want to make
international calls, you will have to leave a deposit.’ Rachel thought about that, and then realized
she was extremely tired, and guessed she could call her mother from Canberra
tomorrow, although she didn’t mind paying.
‘No, that will be quite fine. I
don’t really need to make any phone calls.
Well, I am quite tired. Do you
think you can show me to my room?’ ‘Of
course, Rachel. Do you mind if I call
you Rachel, or would you prefer Miss Bradlock?’
‘Mrs Bradlock, actually. But, no,
I don’t really mind either way. Whatever
you prefer.’ ‘Well, I like to use the
first name here in the hostel – we try to actually be very informal and
friendly in the Samaritans hostel. So I
will call you Rachel if you don’t mind.’
‘That is perfectly all right by me,’ replied Rachel.
The lady took a key from the wall next to the desk, and started
making her way towards the side stairwell.
‘My name is Cindy. It is great to
meet you Rachel.’ ‘Thank you,
Cindy. It is a pleasure to meet you as
well.’ Cindy smiled, and continued up
the stairwell.
‘This is the room – mostly the same as nearly every Samaritan room
worldwide.’ Rachel looked inside. It seemed, as Cindy had said, extremely
similar to Callodyn’s room. The same
basic decoration – the same beds – and the same Gideons’ Bible sitting on the
chair, which now made Rachel a little curious.
‘Cindy, from what my husband has told me, the Samaritans are some sort
of Jewish or Israelite religion. Why the
Christian Bible?’ ‘Oh, it has the Torah
as well, Rachel. In relation to the rest
of the scriptures, Love knows no boundaries that it cannot cross. I am a Samaritan Noahide, which is almost in
a way contradictory, as Samaritans are generally Israelites. But I hold to the same basic religion as the
Samaritans and follow the covenant of Noah.
However, the Taheb teaches us that Love – pure honest and true love – is
the only thing that will ever reach the heart of mankind in winning them to the
truth. So if we have the truth, our
works must stand the test of the most scrupulous inquisitor. So we do not try to divide away from
Christianity. We accept them and want to
live in perfect peace, harmony and love with them. That is our call in life.’ ‘Oh,’ replied Rachel. ‘I understand now.’ ‘Are there any other questions Rachel?’ ‘Not at the moment. Well, thank you Cindy. Hopefully I will see you before I leave.’ ‘Have you been to a Samaritans Hostel
before?’ asked Cindy. ‘Yes I have,’
replied Rachel. ‘Well our layout is
generally the same worldwide. You should
generally be able to find your way around to everything you need. I will leave you now. Take care.’
Cindy excused herself and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Rachel looked around the room.
Nothing seemed in any way surprising.
She sat down on the bed and thought on things. ‘Perhaps a shower,’ she thought. She took the towel nearby and made her way
down the hall to the showers. She closed
and locked the door, undressed and turned the showers on.
10 minutes later she emerged, feeling refreshed. Showers, as they usually always did, had a
way of making her feel better. She put
her clothes back on and returned to her room.
She walked over to the window and looked out at the street below. There seemed to be an art gallery across the
road. She might look at that tomorrow
morning before she left. She looked out
at the busy city. The noise of traffic
and regular city life abounded at this time of day, a noise she was not
completely used to. Crossden was a much
quieter town than the hectic life of Sydney.
But the city life did seem to have a sort of humdrum to it.
She yawned, and decided it was time for sleep. Undressing, she put on her nightgown and got
into the single bed. She looked up at
the ceiling, thinking of this and that, mostly about Callodyn, while sleep
slowly drifted in.
Chapter Two
The Dream had been strange, quite
strange. She had seen a large crowd,
ever so large. And all of them were, as
dreams often had a way of telling you without words, angels. A word had been spoken to her – the solitary
word of ‘Ketravim’. That word had been
spoken when the crowd had been in her mind for a number of moments, perhaps
seconds, although time was perhaps difficult to measure in dreams. Then, after that, many of the apparent
Ketravim appeared to her and smiled at her, each showing her love, each treating
her with great honour. And at the end,
one particular angel appeared next to her – one who did not appear to be one of
the Ketravim, but a different type of angel.
He had spoken these words, ‘You are Rachael. The very last lastborn of the Cherubim, but
the firstborn of the Ketravim. You are a
most special angel, dearest Rachael, and we love you dearly.’
Sitting at the breakfast table of
the Samaritan’s hostel, finishing the Australian version of ‘Weet-a-Bix’,
simply called ‘Weet-bix’, the box of which was covered with pictures of famous
Australian cricketers, Rachel thought on her dream. It was ever so strange. One thing did puzzle her. The name she had been called had been spelt
with an ‘a’ before the ‘e’ which was not the same as her own name. She did not really know why she knew that,
but in the dream it had been apparent.
Cindy, who had shown her were
everything was, walked through the doorway of the kitchen and sat down opposite
her. Rachel had risen early that
morning, around 6.00 am, to make sure she didn’t miss her early bus. She had found Cindy at her desk, which
surprised her a great deal. Cindy had
explained that she lived at the hostel, and often rose early to make sure she
could help with any potential problems the residents had. It was
quite friendly and professional of her, Rachel thought.
‘You know, Rachel,’ Cindy
began. ‘The wife of the Taheb’s name is
similar to yours. Her name is
Rachael. Not the exact same spelling,
though. It has an ‘a’ before the last
‘e’, unlike in your name. But it is a
popular name, so variants aren’t that surprising.’ Rachel looked at her, stunned at what Cindy
had said. ‘Rachael? With an ‘a’.
Your kidding, right?’ ‘No,
Rachel. That is how you spell her
name.’ Rachel burst out in laughter,
amazed at the coincidence. Cindy looked
at her, puzzled at the reaction. ‘What’s
so funny, Rachel? Why are you
laughing?’ ‘Oh, Cindy. Maybe it is just this place, or maybe that is
just the way life is, but there are often strange coincidences in life.’ Cindy nodded, happy at the positive look on
Rachel’s face which had not been there the previous day.
‘What time is your bus?’ asked
Cindy. ‘I am catching the bus from
Parramatta, which is not far from here.
I looked on a map on the internet back home, and the distance is only about
1 kilometre, so I thought I might walk the distance and wait for the bus at the
station. The bus leaves at 8.00 am, and
I am quite sure that it will not take me more than about 40 minutes to get to
Parramatta, so I still have some time up my sleeve. I am going to leave shortly, though, in case
I see anything worth stopping to look at along the way. I will probably have a look at the art
gallery across the street. There seemed
to be a number of pieces in the window, when I looked yesterday.’ ‘Tell you what,’ said Cindy. ‘If you like I should be able to get you in
to see the art gallery. The owner is
there by 6.00 just about all the time, although they don’t open until 9.00. But he occasionally lets me in to look over
new exhibits before and after hours. I
have known him for a couple of years now, and we get along really well. I am sure he will let you in to look around
if you like? Shall I call him and
ask?’ ‘Well, if it is not too much
trouble, that would be very kind of you.
Thank you Cindy.’ ‘Think nothing
of it.’ Cindy got to her feet, and went
over to make the call at the telephone on her desk.
* *
* * *
Gazing out over the fields
alongside the highway from Sydney to Canberra, Rachel felt a little bit better
about life. Laughing that morning had
made her feel a little better, which Patch Adams would certainly testify
to. And the art at the studio had been a
pleasant experience. But, for Rachel,
the bus trip so far was heavenly. They
had just passed ‘Mittagong’, were they had stopped briefly to pick up some
passengers. There were a number of stops
before Canberra, the main one of which would be at Goulburn, were they would be
having an early lunch or late morning tea break – perhaps ‘brunch’, so the
driver had said. The proper lunch break
was, for passengers going past Canberra, to be held at Canberra. Of course, that was Rachel’s last stop in her
journey from Crossden. So far, in this
trip, looking out over the fields travelling from her elevated position gave
her a feeling of comfort or perhaps joy.
Although she had travelled on passenger buses before, she had not done
so for many years, and had forgotten how pleasant such trips could be. She felt excited to be simply travelling down
from Sydney to Canberra. It just felt
good, in a very simple way.
She had with her, as reading
matter, a copy of the ‘Samaritan Torah’ which had just the previous year been
translated into English. Cindy had given
her a copy. The Torah was simply the
‘Pentateuch’, which was the first 5 books of the Old Testament, as Christians
called it. Cindy had explained there
were a number of textual differences between the Samaritan Torah and the Jewish
Torah, but the basic text did not really change. It was essentially the same legal code, and
also essentially the same historical tale.
Cindy had asked her, when travelling down to Canberra, to read from
Genesis 1 to Genesis 11 verse 9. That
portion was what Cindy referred to as the ‘Rainbow Torah’ or ‘Rainbow
Bible’. It was a section of scripture
which the Taheb had stated was of ‘Great’ and ‘Particular relevance’ to all
mankind, who he referred to as ‘Noahides’ or ‘Children of Noah.’ Cindy had asked her to pay particular
attention to chapter 9, which contained what she called ‘the rainbow
covenant’. Rachel had read the chapter
carefully, after having gone through all the previous chapters’ tedious details
of serpents and curses and genealogies and floods. While she had read the Bible previously, she
had not paid as much attention as she had that morning. Strangely enough, she sensed a basic morality
tale at work. A culmination, so she
thought, had been worked towards by the ‘God’ of the tale, with the giving of
the ‘covenant’ signifying the relationship which was to stand with mankind
after that point. Rachel thought on her
own faith, which was, essentially, based on this foundation. The New Testament she did understand to be
the ‘New Covenant’, as Callodyn had shared with her from time to time. He had told her a few times that he did not
hold, technically, to the New Testament, but did hold to certain Old Testament
views. She wondered to herself if the
‘Rainbow Covenant’ had anything to do with his views.
* *
* * *
Daniel Rothchild sat in the
waiting section of the Jolimont centre, waiting on his cousin. There were a couple of cafes at either side
of the waiting section, and he had just finished a latte, which was his
favourite drink of late. His girlfriend,
Jessica Goldstein, was in the newsagent just behind were he was sitting, using
one of the internet terminals to do her usual web-surfing. Rachel had rung him that morning, and given
him the time of 1.20 pm for the arrival date for the bus into Canberra. He had arrived with Jessica, who had driven
them in her car, at around 1.00 pm.
Jessica had decided to do some net-surfing, so Daniel decided to order a
latte and await his cousin’s arrival. At
1:22 pm a voice came over the speakers announcing that the coach from Sydney
had arrived. He walked over to the
newsagent, and motioned for Jessica to come and join him. She finished up what she was doing, and came
and stood with her boyfriend, near the door to the bus yard.
A few minutes later, after a
number of people had come through the doorways, Daniel spotted his cousin with
her one suitcase in tow. He put up his
hand to identify himself, and Rachel came near.
‘Daniel. You haven’t changed
much. Just like the last photo you sent
me.’ Daniel stepped forward and hugged
his cousin. ‘You look as radiant as
ever, dearest Rachel. A precious
daughter of God.’ Rachel blushed at his
comment. Daniel turned to the lady
standing next to him. ‘This, Rachel, is
my girlfriend Jessica Goldstein. We have
been dating for about a year now.’
Rachel smiled at Jessica and put out her hand. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you Jessica.’ Jessica shook Rachel’s hand, and responded
‘The pleasure is all mine, Rachel.
Daniel has told me quite a lot about you, and it is great to meet you in
person.’ ‘You must tell me how you two
met, Jessica. I look forward to hearing
that story.’ Daniel took Rachel’s
suitcase, and indicated for Rachel to follow him. ‘The car is not far from here. We are still down in Macarthur in
Tuggeranong. 177 Merriman Crescent, as
we have been for years.’ ‘Still at home,
Daniel? Haven’t you thought about moving
in with Jessica?’ ‘What! You mean live in sin? Surely not!’
Rachel was about to apologize for her words, then noticed the slight
smile on Daniel’s face, belying the sarcastic words. ‘Stop teasing your cousin, Daniel.’ Said Jessica.
She turned to Rachel. ‘Daniel has
actually been thinking about moving in with me just recently. He feels we know each other well enough now
so that it is not too much of a problem any more. Despite what he said to you, he doesn’t worry
about any ‘living in sin’ issues. More
of a ‘wanting to make sure it is the right person’ issue with him. He has told me he doesn’t want to move out
just to move back home. He wants to make
sure it is the right person first.’
‘That is perfectly understandable, Jessica. He is perhaps showing some maturity in that
decision.’ ‘I suppose, Rachel. But, perhaps, he is just being a little too serious. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work
out. Life goes on, after all.’ ‘I can see you two will get along,’ said
Daniel. ‘I’ll probably be
‘threes-a-crowd’ after a while.’ Rachel
and Jessica laughed at Daniel’s comment.
Reaching the car, Daniel put
Rachel’s suitcase in the boot, and they started their way through Civic,
destined for the south side of Canberra.
* *
* * *
Rachel smiled at her uncle
Alexander’s comment. She did not want to
smile, but felt it was best to put on a brave face. ‘Yes, uncle Alex. I am sure that wherever Callodyn is, he is
thinking of me.’ ‘I am sure he is
Rachel,’ replied her uncle. ‘Rose and
myself have been praying for Callodyn and yourself over these past few
days. We have asked our Pastor to make
mention of you in his prayers. Reverend
Grayson’s prayer’s are often answered when we ask him to pray for us. The man has a special place in God’s heart, I
am sure of it. I have also asked the
local pastor of the Lutheran church down near the shops to keep you in his
prayers. These days, we are not so
entrenched in ‘Anglican only’ and visit a number of the other local
churches. The Church of the Good
shepherd, which is the local Lutheran church, is the closest church to us, so
we often visit there and fellowship with their community. We have even been occasionally going along
with Daniel to his namesakes down at number 29, with these ‘Noahide’ meetings
they have started. ‘Noahide? asked
Rachel, her curiousity aroused. They
have Noahide meetings here?’ ‘Just
started recently,’ said Alexander. Only
a small home fellowship, though.
Noahides are a tiny movement worldwide, so Daniel tells me. But if you want to know about that, ask your
cousin. He started the fellowship with
Mr Daly from number 29. Mr Daly is an
observant Noahide and occasionally visits the synagogue in Forrest, which is
were he met our son. But ask Daniel if
you want to know about that. I am sure
he can tell you whatever you need to know.’
‘I may do that,’ Rachel replied.
‘Well, if it is alright by you, I wouldn’t mind resting for an hour or
so. It was a fair trip and I am still a
little tired from the last couple of days of travel.’ Rose Rothchild got up and motioned for Rachel
to follow her. Rachel followed after
Rose, who led the way to an upstairs vacant bedroom.
‘Rachel, I am sure you know were
everything is. You can use the bathroom whenever
you want, and there are towels on the bed.
You have a good rest, and I will come up at around 4.00 pm to wake you
if you are sleeping. Unless of course
you would prefer I didn’t.’ ‘No, that is
okay.’ ‘Good. We are planning on going out tonight to have
a meal down at the Viking’s club restaurant in Erindale. It will be the five of us. Alex, myself, Daniel and Jessica, as well as
yourself.’ ‘That sounds good. I will look forward to it.’ Rose looked at her, thinking on her words,
before continuing. ‘You know, both Alex
and Daniel are quite religious. Daniel
gets it from his dad. It is not
surprising, considering their Jewish blood.
I was raised an Anglican, but was never overtly religious. If they go on too much about religion, just
ask them to back off a little. They can
usually take a hint.’ ‘No, its quite
okay, Rose. At the moment I am actually,
I guess, getting into something of a religious phase. It probably won’t last forever, but for now
spiritual things seem to be quite important to me.’ ‘Yes, Rachel.
I know what you are saying. At
times in our lives we ask the big questions.
It is not sensible to continually ask them, though. Eventually we need to get on with our
lives.’ ‘Yes, I know what you are
saying,’ said Rachel, seemingly in agreement.
‘Well, I could use that rest. So
I will see you in a little while. I
might sleep or I might not. But wake me
if I do.’ ‘Will do, dearest. You take care.’ Rose patted Rachel on her shoulder, and left
to return to her husband downstairs.
* *
* * *
‘So, what is Love, Daniel? What is Love?’ Daniel, chewing on a piece of steak, pondered
his father, Alexander’s words. Rachel
had been sitting quietly, enjoying her meal, but was enthralled at the
conversation. They had been discussing
the cricket match just finished on the big screen, a twenty20 spectacular
between Australia and England, which had gone right down to the wire, with a
phenomenal big 6 from one of the Aussie batsmen near the end of the batting
order from the last ball, resulting in a tied match of 201 each. The 6 had brought a ‘Man I love this game’,
from Daniel, a comment his father had picked up on, questioning the nature of
what love was supposed to be about.
Rachel, finishing off the last of her Calamari rings sat looking at
Daniel, curious as to what he would say.’
‘Well, obviously, as we seem to agree on, it goes beyond Corinthians
thirteen,’ began Daniel. ‘That chapter
presents the heart of love, as Paul sees it.
But I am quite sure he never intended his audience to think that that
was the final summation of what love was all about. There are, I think, so many other qualities
which speak about love, which Paul would obviously have known. Of course, we can talk of definitions. Koine Greek, the language of the New
Testament, had, if I recall, 4 words for love.
Philio, which means a brotherly type of love. Eros, which means a sexual type of love. Agape, which means affectionate love, and one
more which, for the life of me, I can’t remember. Each of these words is translated as ‘Love’
in English. But, as you did ask, What is
love? Is it an emotion? Is it feelings? Is it something more than that? Is it something deeply spiritual? Something fundamental to the whole meaning
and purpose of life?’ ‘That it could
be,’ said Alexander. Our God is a God of
Love, John says in his epistle. C S
Lewis commented on that in ‘Mere Christianity’, which is probably my favourite
non-biblical Christian tome. If God is
the creator of all things, and he is love, do we then find our ultimate meaning
in love? Is that what we are destined
for?’ ‘You two sound just like each
other,’ said Jessica. ‘What I believe is
that Love comes from the heart. Whatever
is good within you and what goodness you give out of yourself and share with
others shows what your love is. It is
different for each person – as different as there are souls in the world.’ Daniel looked at his girlfriend. ‘That is very profound, Jessica. I knew there was a reason I liked you.’ He looked over at Rachel. ‘What do you think Rachel? What do you think of Love?’ ‘That when it is broken, it is not easily
mended,’ replied Rachel. Rose
nodded. ‘That is so true, Rachel. So true.’
Chapter Three
Rachel looked up at the building.
She, with Daniel and Jessica, were visiting the Australian war memorial
in the suburb of Campbell in Canberra.
They had come early that morning, and the museum was not due to open for
another few minutes. They’d had
breakfast together in the café near the museum, and planned a few hours to look
over the various exhibits. Daniel had
explained that the War Memorial was one of the major tourist attractions for
Canberra, alongside the Questacon, the Floriade festival, the National Art
Gallery, the National Library, the National Museum and various other
attractions. In the few minutes before
the museum was to open, they had scouted around the various outside exhibits,
and Rachel found herself staring up at the main building.
Daniel had shared with her that each year on what was called ‘Anzac
Day’ a morning church service was held at the memorial to commemorate the brave
Australian and New Zealand soldiers who had perished in the Great War, also
known as World War I. He had commented to
her that the average Australian bloke was not really a spiritual type of
person, but that such a bloke did take his cricket and football seriously, and
that Anzac day had a deep significance.
Australian schoolkids celebrated Anzac day each year, being the subject
of many school reports and presentations.
The ‘Anzac’ motif was a defining and shaping part of Australian
society. It was a ‘true-blue’,
‘dinky-di’, ‘Aussie’ thing.
Rachel’s great-grandfather had died also in that war, being amongst
the British troops which the Australian’s had since come to seemingly
dislike. The ‘Brits’ were the old enemy,
especially in the fiercely competitive ‘Ashes’ series of Test Cricket. Events like ‘Gallipoli’ and ‘Bodyline’ had
shaped an Australian attitude towards what was once perceived of as the ‘homeland’,
the grand old ‘Empire’. ‘Wingin Poms’
were not hated explicitly, but there was an undercurrent of resentment in the
land from many inhabitants. In general,
though, Australians gave everyone a ‘fair go’.
This attitude was part of the culture, and soon found its way into new
immigrants, who were now a well established part of the new ‘multicultural and
tolerant’ Australia.
English people were not, really, in the end, hated or
despised. It was more of a rivalry,
especially in sports, and the Australian attitude of ‘mateship’ was still
appreciated by visiting English men and women.
Daniel had been born in England, but had come to Australia when he was
very young with his Father and mother.
He barely remembered England, and was not overtly patriotic towards the
place. He had visited occasionally,
mainly to see his cousin Rachel, but did not really explicitly identify with
the people or its inhabitants. He had
shared with Rachel that he was, so he had come to believe, part of God’s
Kingdom. Part of God’s empire. Earthly kingdoms and empires would eventually
give away to the Kingdom of God, something which Christ had been quite explicit
on.
Rachel, in her current spiritually inquisitive mood, had thought on
that issue. She considered herself a proud
Welsh lady, having a number of Welsh bloodlines within her, and being born in
Crossden hospital in the heart of Northern Wales. But she of course could never forget her
family name of Rothchild. It was a
strong and passionate Israelite family.
Of course, most Rothchild’s were either secular or Jewish in faith, only
a small percentage actually being Christian.
But Jewish faith, while not seemingly from her perspective as passionate
as Christian faith – which had never bothered her given her upbringing and
attitude to religion – still, technically, embraced the reality of the Kingdom
of God as well. Callodyn and her cousin
Daniel had both shared with her that the Rabbis taught that, through the Torah,
the Kingdom of God was established on earth.
That the laws of God brought peace and lawfulness to mankind. Daniel had taught her that the author of the
‘Book of Daniel’, which was supposedly the prophet himself, clearly taught the
prophetic emergence of the Kingdom of God, triumphant over beastly worldly
empires. Rachel had been curious about
that issue, but had realized that in the Samaritan Torah she now had with her,
the Book of Daniel was of course not included.
That book was part of the Old Testament, or the TENAKH as her cousin had
called it. Thinking over the issue of
the Kingdom of God, Rachel had thought on the issue which, for Christians
anyway, seemed to be the fundamental issue, that of Salvation. As every believing Christian could tell you,
salvation was bought for the church by the blood of Christ at Calvary. And the church established the Kingdom of God
on earth, being the substance of the Kingdom which was based on the simple fact
that they had the proper relationship with God and were allowed entrance into
the Kingdom, simply because they had been forgiven by the blood of Christ.
Her cousin Daniel had maintained that Christ’s blood was the only
ultimate way of salvation. That without
the blood of the lamb, death and destruction was the only other ultimate
destiny. He had shared with her that the
Bible taught various things about destiny and rewards for those people who had
served God and that all people throughout the ages would receive a reward in
the world to come. But he had been quite
explicit that, while all of God’s children would receive some sort of reward,
that for an eternal reward, for life everlasting, only through the blood of
Christ could this salvation be attained.
He had shared with her his view that Jews and Muslims and people of
other religions would inherit a portion in the world to come, but that it would
only be for a limited time – or more precisely, a finite time. Once they had received their reward, the day
of Judgement would ultimately arrive, and unless they had accepted Christ while
alive on earth, they would face destruction of body and soul in Gehenna – the
lake of fire. Only an intangible spirit
within them would remain alive, which would return to God, as Solomon taught.
Rachel had taken Daniel’s teaching quite seriously. Presently, while still accepting Christianity
as her religion, she did have questions.
Her husband, Callodyn, had said he did believe Jesus was a fundamental
figure in the plans and workings of God, but that he was not, ultimately, the
true Christ. And because of that he had
not professed Christian faith to her.
This had not bothered Rachel, who had from a young age decided to not
let religion interfere with her friendships with people. Callodyn’s views had challenged Rachel a
little, but he had never meant that to be his intent, or had never said
anything to indicate so. But, she loved
her husband, and would accept him whatever his views on religion.
But, in the past two days, since the previous morning’s
conversation with Cindy from the Samaritan’s hostel, Rachel had almost decided
what she would pursue. What religion she
would look into and see if it was right for her. Like her new acquaintance, Cindy, she would
look into the Samaritan faith. The
figure Cindy had talked about, the ‘Taheb’, sounded intriguing to her, and she
wanted to satisfy her curiousity on this subject. In all its wonderful teachings and doctrines
Christianity, to Rachel, seemed to somehow, perhaps, overly complicate
life. The Torah, she had found through
skimming through it, was more direct.
Black and white, even. It gave
commands to be followed and punishments for failing those commands. Rachel knew that God, though. The cultural inheritance of her Israelite
family knew the God of the Torah. It was
perhaps true what Callodyn had once told her.
The People of Israel were God’s child, as the scriptures taught, and he
was close and personal to each and every one of them. Because of that apparent reality, Rachel had
felt that she would now look into the religion of the God of her people. She would look into it and see what all the
fuss had been about.
* *
* * *
Coming to the road, she had run out of bicycle path, so walked down
over the grass to the road. She had
risen early again, and was walking down from Macarthur, which was at the east side
of Tuggeranong, down to Pine Island, which was at the base of the ‘Brindabella
mountain range, on the western edge of Tuggeranong valley. Daniel had been talking about the place, as
he visited it often, and Rachel decided to walk down in the morning to see for
herself. Crossing the road, she walked
southwards a little coming to the main intersection. She continued westward for a few hundred
metres until coming to the turn-off to Pine Island. She followed the road along for another few
hundred metres until she came to the main parkland of Pine Island. Pine Island was a name given to a section of
the ‘Murrumbidgee’ river that ran along the base of the Brindabella mountains
past Tuggeranong. Coming down to the
edge of the river, she sat down on the sand, and started relaxing.
It was very quiet, the sound of the city being heard, which was a
few hundred metres behind her. She was
essentially at the edge of Canberra and if she crossed over the river, she would
probably be entering someone’s farmstead, although she was not sure.
She took her towel from the bag she was carrying and laid it out on
the sand. Taking her shoes off, she lay
down on the towel and looked up at the blue and white sky above her. It was near the end of summer in Australia at
the moment, but Canberra was not the hottest part of Australia. It was still early in the morning, and the
weather, to Rachel, was ideal. The air
was cool and fresh, but not too cold.
Really, it was the perfect time of day to enjoy the river.
Lying there, her thoughts quickly turned to that of her
beloved. She had been not thinking of
him directly the last two days as much as she had been back home. The trip and the events of the trip had taken
her mind off of him. But now, in some
quiet time, Callodyn entered her mind.
Was he really alive? Did he
really still care for her? These
questions had persisted in her thoughts, and her heart saddened often at
answers she felt she must submit to – wether she wanted to or not. Wherever Callodyn was, whatever he was doing,
she felt that he had chosen to not return.
That he had chosen to live his life without her. That the love that he had proclaimed for her
had not been real – had not been true.
Rachel, though, could not express that attitude. She had given her heart to Callodyn. She had given her heart in a way that she
could never give back. She had committed
in that marriage ceremony. It had been
the most pivotal moment in her life, and in her heart she would never, ever,
revoke the decision – the commitment – she had made. Callodyn was her love, that would remain true
forever.
She rolled over on to her side, and silently sobbed for a few
minutes at the way her heart was feeling.
Did other women feel like this when their beloved had left them? Were other hearts broken as such? Was she alone in the heartbreak she
felt? She supposed, although she would
like to perhaps think otherwise, that others did feel such love. She thought on all the marriages that had
taken place over humanities life. Of all
the commitments and promises that had been made. Surely, in all of those choices, many hearts
had been broken. Many had tasted the
bitterness and loneliness of love forsaken.
She thought on her mother, Celia, who had lost her father Jonathon in
the recent Iraqi conflict. Celia had
expressed the usual grief and widowed wife would show at the funeral, but had
gone on with life and did not seemingly, to Rachel, seem lost without him. She did say to Rachel from time to time that
she missed Jonathon, which did show to Rachel that her mother’s felt something
of the loss. But for Rachel and her
beloved Callodyn, she thought the pain of separation was oh so extreme.
She thought on that in her heart.
Growing up and with her previous boyfriends, she had never really felt
like this. Never really known the pain
of a broken or disappointed heart. But
this pain she now felt was so extreme.
So alive and passionate.
She stared up at the sky.
She thought on her new religious preoccupation, and the ‘God’ of that
religion. Was he sitting up there, up in
heaven, looking on at her? What were his
thoughts? Was he even aware of Rachel
and what she was going through? Did he
even care about her heart? She had been
taught all her life that God cared. But
if he did so, why had he allowed her to feel such pain? Such sorrow?
She turned to her side again, staring down at the river, watching
it travel along its course, destination unknown. Lying there she thought on her beloved, and
quietly drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Four
The drive down from Canberra to Cooma, which was about 100 kms
south of Canberra had been picturesque.
The land was quite dry, but there was much bushland and the scenery was
appealing. Herself and Daniel had left
early that morning to make the 10.00 am service at the Anglican Church in
Cooma. Daniel visited a number of
churches besides his Sabbath observance at the synagogue, including churches in
the districts nearby to Canberra. West
of Cooma was the alpine region of Australia, were it snowed in winter. Daniel was a prolific skier and went every
winter for a number of weekends.
Cooma was a town of around 8,000 people. During the building of the Snowy Mountains
Scheme, which provided electricity for much of Australia, the town had taken an
influx of immigrants from around the world.
Along the central park of town, named Centennial Park, was a parade of
flagpoles with flags from all of the nations which had assisted in the scheme.
The town was surrounded by hills and mountains, some in the centre
of town. The Anglican Church was near
the centre of town, just up from the main street and along another street.
The service reminded her of her own church services back in
Wales. Like most other protestant
churches, member churches usually followed a consistent pattern in the way they
presented their services – not always, but quite often.
When the service had finished, Daniel left Rachel inside the church
to chat with the congregation just outside the entrance, the usual practice in
Sunday church goers.
Rachel was alone in the church and looked around. It was a traditional building, made of thick
stonework, something which Daniel had said was in some ways unique to the Cooma
region. The Catholic Church, and the
Uniting church around the corner from the Anglican Church were built of the
same types of bricks.
Standing at the front of the church she looked at one of the
keyboards which was presumably used in the church service from time to
time. She wondered how many souls had
sat down to play upon it.
The windows of the church were all of stained glass windows
depicting traditional Church of England figures. Wandering down to the back of the church,
there was an alcove just behind were her and Daniel had sat. She entered it and looked up at the stained
Glass window. It was of the Archangel
Michael.
Rachel thought on Michael.
He was, to Rachel, a significant figure in her faith. At 7 years of age, she’d had a dream of a
figure which had called itself the Angel Michael. It was a dream of youth – filled with the
feelings that such dreams should be filled of, but it was one of the few dreams
she remembered and carried with her throughout her life.
Callodyn had spoken of the Angel Michael once. A valiant warrior – a strong and proud child
of God. Such were the words Callodyn
attributed to this Angel, almost as if he knew him personally, which of course
she knew could not be so.
Taking a last look at the window, she left the alcove and joined
her cousin in conversation with the rest of the congregation.
* *
* * *
Five weeks later Rachel felt she needed to return home. She had asked her work supervisor for up to 8
weeks off, 5 of which she had in recreation leave, 3 of which she would take as
leave without pay. Her supervisor had
approved of the leave without any questions.
He had commented that she was a valued member of Social Security, and
could take as much time as she needed.
Rachel had been off work for 6 weeks now, and though she had
another 2 she could use if she needed to, she felt that her purpose in
Australia had largely been served.
A main purpose had been to see Daniel and find some
consolation. It was true, she felt, that
consolation had come. But the heaviness
in her heart had not diminished, but only increased. She missed Callodyn, now more than ever. And while being in Australia seemed to take
some of the pain away from being surrounded by the sites of Crossden were she
lived with him, she felt that she now wanted to see those sites and face the
pain more than living without it.
That morning she had rung the travel agent and arranged for her
trip back. She had a return ticket which
she could use within a matter of time.
It was time, now, she felt to return home.
* *
* * *
‘It is true, Rachel. Broken
hearts need time to mend. I know,
dearest cousin, that you believe in God.
I would encourage you to take that broken heart to God. The healing and love you need can be found in
him. He will not let you down,
Rachel. He will not let you down.’ Rachel looked at her cousin seated opposite
her in the Canberra airport café. Her
flight had been delayed about half an hour, so they had decided to share a cup
of coffee in the café. ‘God! Bring my heart to God? Well, no, I don’t think I could do that,
Daniel. My heart is personal. Personal to me. I know how you talk about God, as your best
friend, as your comforter. But he has
never been like that to me. Growing up,
God was more of a Judge or King. Not the
personal friend which you and Jeremy go on about. It is just not how I view God. It is just not my way.’ Daniel considered her words. They reflected, to him, a perspective about
God which was not completely accurate.
Daniel felt Rachel’s perspective did show an aspect of God – but one
which was not complete. She did not know
how much he did in fact love mankind and his children. She did not know how personal and kind the
love of God could be.
‘Why not take a risk, Rachel.
Why not, as the scriptures say, taste and see that the Lord is
good. You may be surprised at what you
find answering your hearts dilemma.’
Rachel stirred a sachet of sugar into her coffee, which was not her
usual practice. She took a sip, thinking
over how she would respond to her cousin’s words. She looked out the window, looking at a taxi
drive by, taking its passengers off to some unknown destination. She thought that perhaps those passengers
were happy. Perhaps they had arrived in
Canberra, and were off to see some family, some friends – some beloved
one. She looked over at Daniel. ‘Daniel.
This God you speak of. I don’t
think – I don’t think I really know him the way you do. Perhaps, one day, I might want to. Maybe one day. But for now, while I am looking into religion
at the moment, that kind of, well, relationship for want of a better word, with
God, is something I don’t know if I can manage.
I mean, he is God, after all. He
is not meant to be taken so personally.
He is meant to be revered. To be
respected. Perhaps for some holy angel
somewhere. Some proud and noble
Israelite queen. Perhaps for her, some
kind of love could be given. But not to
me, Daniel. Not to me. It is not the way it is for me towards
God. Do you understand what I am saying?’
Daniel took in his cousin’s comments, but felt that he would
persist nonetheless. ‘Perhaps you could
be that Israelite queen?’ ‘Me? A queen?
Hardly.’ ‘Do you know the heart
of God, Rachel? Do you know the mind of
our creator? A psalm I recommend is
Psalm 139. Part of it says, ‘you have
searched me, and you have known me.’ The
psalm goes on to say that even in the depths of hell, God know us – knows were
we are, and what we are going through.
And in that knowing of us, his love remains constant. Ever faithful and true. Could you not get to know this God? Could you not search him out and see for
yourself the things people have often told you about him?’
Rachel took another sip of coffee before responding. She noted the sweet taste, and wondered
whatever had made her put in sugar, which was far from her usual practice. ‘Maybe, Daniel. Maybe, one day. One day I may, as you said, taste and see
that the Lord is good. But for now my
heart belongs to another. For now it is
only Callodyn which will fill my hearts desire.
God would be too much competition at this moment in my life.’
Daniel nodded, seemingly accepting his cousin’s words. Silence surrounded them for a few moments,
before the speakers announced that her flight had arrived. She drained the coffee, and got to her
feet. Walking to the walkway were the
metal detectors were stationed she turned to her cousin. ‘Daniel.
Thank you so for your comfort these last few weeks. You have been a godsend. I will write you as soon as I get back to
Crossden.’ She leaned forward and kissed
her cousin on the cheek. ‘Goodbye
Daniel.’ ‘Goodbye Rachel. I will pray for you. Take care.’
She put her handbag on the tray, and passed through the metal detector
without incident, before reclaiming her handbag. She turned, giving her cousin one final wave,
and made her way over to the departure point.
‘Time to return home,’ she thought to herself. ‘Time to return home.’
Chapter Five
Rachel looked at the steps leading up to her flat. Her mother would undoubtedly be home, unless
she was on one of her rare shopping trips.
She looked at the stairwell, and thought for a moment that it was just
another labour in a life that had become almost unbearable. But, despite her misery, life went on. She had to continue in the pathway of life,
and not give up hope. Perhaps,
eventually, things would improve. Perhaps
things would get better.
* *
* * *
‘Rachel, you have to face it.
Callodyn may never return. I pray
to God that he is alive and well, and that he would be here if he could, but he
just isn’t here at the moment. You
simply need to accept that. Life goes
on, sister. Have some faith.’
Rachel looked at Jeremy, and nodded. She didn’t want to be consoled. She wanted to remain miserable. She wanted to stay that way, pitying herself,
even if nobody else would. But she knew
Jeremy was right. She had to eventually
cheer up. And, yes, she would have to
have some faith.
‘Jeremy is right, daughter,’ said Celia her mother. ‘I believe that Callodyn will return, some
day. But not now. I think he is just sorting himself out, or
something like that. Working out were
his heart his. He will come back to you,
Rachel. He loves you. Don’t doubt that.’
‘I hope you are right, mum.
I hope you are right.’
Celia took a sip from the mug of coffee in her hand, and
spoke. ‘Will you be returning to work on
Monday. You had a long break down in
Australia, and you have only been back at work for a month. I don’t think your boss would like you to
take too much more time off.’
‘I needed Friday off, mum. I
just couldn’t face work that day. But,
yes, I will be back on Monday. We have
selected a new girl for our now vacant administration office position, and she
will be seeing me on Monday afternoon.
It will be very important to her, so I have to put aside my problems to
make sure she hears the news she wants to hear.’
‘That is good, Rachel,’ said Celia.
‘The work routine will help you overcome your sadness after a while. It will occupy your thoughts. Take your mind off of Callodyn.’
‘But I don’t want to take my mind off of Callodyn. He is my husband. I want him in my thoughts.’
‘I know, I know,’ said Celia, comforting her. ‘But other thoughts need to be there as well,
or you will just continue to work yourself up into a state. Just get back into a routine and things will
sort themselves out eventually.’
Rachel nodded, and took a sip from the mug in her hand.
* *
* * *
‘Yes Lucy, you have been successful in your application. In fact, we can use you pretty much straight
away. If you can start next Monday, we
can offer you a six month contract, full-time.
The position is a basic administration officer position, which, with
your certificate in office skills you have now gained, you should have no real
problems in doing.’
Lucy Bridges smiled at Rachel’s words. She had been unemployed since she had turned
18 and had spent most of her recent life at the Samaritan’s hostel. In the past six months she had been studying
at the Crossden Tertiary Institute, and had gained a certificate in Office
skills. She had pushed as hard as she
possibly could on her typing to try and get a very good typing speed, and had
reached 75 wpm by the end of her course, with which she was extremely pleased.
It had all taken her by surprise.
7 months ago she had simply been saving a bit of money to eventually pay
for a bond for a room somewhere in outer London, if she could possibly afford
it, and to pursue her acting dreams. But
one morning, in fact one she could quite vividly recall, being the morning
after the night she had spent with Callodyn, she had woken up and everything
seemed different in her life. She had
felt drive – inspiration – passion and intensity. She felt a fire to really try and actually
sort her life out properly, and no longer fool herself with childhood
dreams. She had kicked herself in the
behind and decided to apply for the office skills course and work like a devil
to do the absolute best she could. She
had decided to push to the limit of her talent and see what life would bring.
She had the fastest speed of all her fellow students at the end of
the course, and her teachers had commented that 75 wpm was a superior speed to
learn in such a short time. Lucy had
been pleased with herself. Silently very
satisfied.
When she applied for the temp position at the social security
office, she knew she would have competition, given the recession was still
going on, although recent figures suggested it was nearing an end. But she believed in herself, and had gone all
out to get the position.
Her interview had gone well.
On the interview committee had sat an older gentleman who had not
identified himself, and Rachel had asked the majority of the questions. When the interview was complete, Rachel had
told Lucy that she had performed extremely well.
And now Lucy had the job.
She smiled at Rachel in front of her and said, ‘Thank you Rachel. Thank you.’
Rachel nodded. ‘You earned
it Lucy. You should probably go out and
celebrate with your boyfriend, if you have one.’
‘No boyfriend, but, yeah, I think I will go out and celebrate.’
* *
* * *
After Lucy had filled out the various forms required and left the
social security office, Rachel returned to her desk, and thought on the day’s
events.
Jeremy’s words had consoled her somewhat, but she was still
miserable. Almost more miserable than
she had felt all that year. She missed
him. So much did she miss him. Was he dead?
Was he lying somewere in a ditch?
Was he on the streets again? Were
had he gone? As she had done practically
every day since his disappearance, she thought back to that day. He had been right there in the room with
her. And then a booming voice had spoken
and a strange light had appeared. The
moments following were all a jumble in her mind. She simply could not remember any precise
details, but she did remember herself sitting on a lounge chair in the hotel
lobby, with the house lady offering her consoling words, and this seeming to
have happened just after the voice and lights.
Callodyn had affected her heart.
She knew it was his humility that had entranced her. He had no pride. He did not boast or pretend to be something
he was not. And he totally and
completely accepted her. He never once
judged her – he simply loved her. He,
she thought, was what a man was supposed to be.
Mature, responsible and grown up.
Over childish attitudes, and not obsessed with sex, which she thought
every man was. It was not that he was
not sexual – he was – but he never ever pestered her on this issue, but simply
let her lead on this issue. And he was
romantic and kind. He cared for her and
spoke fine things in life to her. And of
course, he was smart. He never really
went on about any particular issue, but through their conversations she had
come to know that he seemed to know so much about life and history. It was almost as if he was ancient in some
ways, as if he had been alive for a thousand years.
She looked up at the clock on the wall. 5.21 it read.
She decided to close her workstation, which under policy was allowed
from 5.20, unless they had customers.
She logged of her computer, and put on her jacket, picked up her
handbag, farewelled her workmates, and left.
While she often drove to work, for a while now she had been walking
the distance. It was a couple of
kilometres to her home, but she didn’t mind the walk, as it gave her thinking
time.
She thought of Callodyn, and looked up to the skies. ‘God, if you are out there – if you care – I
am sorry, God. I am sorry for whatever I
may have done wrong in my life, in my heart.
But please, God. Please. Return my heart to me. Please.’
She looked up to the heavens, and hoped beyond hope that her prayer
would be answered.
Chapter Six
Samael stood on top of one of the towers of the Golden city,
looking out at the city below him.
‘Samael, how fares life?’ Samael
turned to the voice of the one who had spoken.
It was the Logos. ‘Jesus. Life is, well, life I guess. This place soothes the heart. It is the heavenly domain, and I always feel
better living here. But there is
something wrong. Something out of
place.’ ‘And what is that?’ asked the
Logos. ‘It is my love.’ ‘Has not Aphrayel been with you since your
return? She has been your constant
companion, assisting you and helping you to adjust to life in our domain
again.’ ‘Yes – Aphrayel,’ said
Samael. ‘Yes, I find peace with her.’ Logos looked at him. ‘It is the other one, isn’t it? The human female. The Rachel girl.’ ‘Yes, Jesus, it is her.’ Logos came over and stood next to Samael, and
turned his head to look out at the city before them. He turned to Samael. ‘Samael.
In the English language – the one you chose to adopt – your chosen name
as a human was Callodyn.’ ‘Yes, I know
Logos. Do you have a point.’ ‘Yes, I do.
This name equates with the number 86.’
’86? Why 86?’, asked Samael. ‘Well, counting A as 1 and B as 2 and so on,
the numerical equivalents of Callodyn work out to 86.’ ‘Oh,’ said Samael. ‘That is most interesting. But, dare I ask, what is the point of telling
me that?’ ‘Well, I am aware of another
name, a name close to you, which also equates with 86 in the English
language.’ Samael looked at the Logos,
his curiosity aroused. ‘Well. What is that name?’ Logos looked at him and smiled. He turned his head towards the vista before
speaking again. ‘I will let you work
that out, Samael. I will let you work
that out.’ Samael looked at him, and
looked away. ‘Yeah, well. Whatever Logos. Whatever.’
* *
* * *
Aphrayel sat quietly beside the pond of Rageeta garden, at the
northern most edge of the golden city.
She sat on the grass, drinking some melit water from the jug she had
with her. She sat there, staring at the pond,
when she heard a voice hail her. She
turned to see Samael approaching. She
rose to her feet and smiled at her beloved as he came near. He spoke.
‘Aphrayel. We need to talk.’ ‘Yes, Samael.
What is it?’ ‘My heart,
Aphrayel. It is broken. It will not mend – it cannot mend. It is missing a vital part – a part that must
be restored to me.’ Aphrayel looked at
him, and turned towards the pond, hiding her face from him. There was disappointment there. She knew she had lost him. That she had not won back her love. She turned to him. ‘Go to Father, Samael. He may allow you to see Rachel. He is most gracious and merciful.’ Samael looked at her, and nodded, then turned
and walked away.
* *
* * *
Chapter Seven
Rachel sat at Ateegar Pond on the southern edge of Crossden. She sat on the grass, looking at the pond as
the water ripples cascaded to the edge, to be replaced by another, in a
seemingly endless supply. She smiled to
herself, looking into the pond. She
looked at the water, and up at the skies.
She smiled again, and laughed a little.
She was happy. She was happier
than she had ever been. In her whole
life she had never been so happy. Never
anywhere near so happy.
He had returned. Her beloved
– her heart – her life – had been returned to her. Three nights ago they had embraced and she
had felt the joy of reunion unlike anything else she had ever known. It was a divine moment in her life.
Today, in her extended lunch break, she had walked down to Ateegar
pond at the southern edge of Crossden.
Just to be alone for a little while, and to think. But there was a specific reason. She had come to pray. Although she was, as she really felt, not
overly religious, God had done something so kind – so very kind for her – that
she knew she needed to thank him. She
needed to express her gratitude. To
thank him for the love he had shown her.
She had prayed the ‘Our Father’ when sitting beside the pond. Then she sung ‘Amazing Grace’, Callodyn’s
favourite hymn, from the songbook from her church, St Bartholomew’s.
And after that, all was well.
All was well in life. Nothing
could bring her down. No world catastrophe,
no great war, not even losing her job, should it happen. Her love was back. He had been returned to her. Her dearest love, Callodyn, her heart and
soul was back in her life. And she
thanked God. She thanked him for the
kindness and mercy he had shown her.
* *
* * *
Callodyn looked at the child in
his arms. He looked at his beloved
Rachel, who looked up at him from the hospital bed, the exhausted look on her
face betraying the ordeal she had just been through. ‘Well?’
she asked. ‘Is grandfather’s name
acceptable?’ Callodyn looked at her, and
again looked down at the child in his arms.
‘Young Leopold Bradlock,’ he said.
‘You will be fine young man. You
will be a fine young man.’ Rachel looked
at both of them and smiled. She was
exhausted, but she was happy. They had a
child and, in many ways, Rachel’s life was now complete. She had family.
* *
* * *
Leopold was baptized into the Church of England on the 1st
of January, 2012, a few weeks after his birth.
He had not been baptized in St Bartholomew’s in Crossden, were Callodyn
and Rachel had been married, but in the small town of Beltingham to the north
of Crossden. Beltingham was the place
were the majority of Rachael’s family lived.
When old Abraham Rothchild had come to England from Germany in the early
1700s, he had settled in Yorkshire initially, but after a decade had moved his
entire family, yet again, to Beltingham in Northern Wales.
Beltingham, so the local legends went, was the seat of ancient
druidry in Wales. In fact, the locals
often called themselves ‘Beltanes’ and claimed that the pagan feast Beltane had
originated in their small town. This,
though, was disputed by the town of ‘Bala’ in Northumberland in northern
England. The ‘Balan’s claimed that the
ancient druid ‘Merlin’, who was, so the legend ran, born south of their town in
a place called ‘Dolgellau’, had inaugurated, with the approval of the Welsh
King Arthur Pendragon who at that time ruled over all of Britannia, the feast
of Beltane, and established the council of the druids in Bala. There had been, so the Balan’s claimed,
countless rituals celebrating the feast, and in the Snowdonia national park,
which lay just near Bala and Dolgellau, there were supposedly many sacred sites
which had been dedicated to the feast.
But Beltingham adamantly affirmed that the feast had originally begun
with them, and that in fact King Arthur, who had resided in Camelot in Wales,
had sanctioned the druidry of Beltingham to inaugurate the feast to celebrate
his wedding to Guinevere who, so the Beltanes claimed, had hailed from
Beltingham, the daughter of a French lord who had migrated to Wales.
Rachel’s Grand-father, David, had shared all of this information
with Callodyn after the baptism in David and Jessica’s home. Jessica, although in her early 70’s, still
worked in Beltingham library on Tweed street.
She had decided against retiring until a ‘later’ time in her life, and
in the good health God had blessed her with, she maintained her work standards
to everyone’s satisfaction. Rachel’s
other uncle, Frederick, had listened intently to his father’s words, offering
various bits of information as the tales unfolded. This conversation had taken place in the main
lounge of David’s home, were the men had gathered to celebrate the
baptism. The women had congregated in
the kitchen and living room of the home, while the various children were all
outside.
Callodyn had met the various Rothchild’s at the wedding, at least
most of them, but was now getting to know them more personally. David had 7 children, 3 boys and 4 girls, 28
grand-children, and, now, a proud great-grandfather with young Leopold being
the first of what he hoped to be many additions. David’s 3 sons were Jonathon, the eldest, who
had been killed in the recent conflict in Iraq, Alexander and then
Frederick. Jonathon was Rachel’s father
and Leopold’s grandfather. David talked
much of Jonathon, the love towards his son quite apparent. But most of his love, at the moment, was
about his great-grandson Leopold, who had taken his middle name, which had been
a name in the family for many years.
That day, Callodyn felt that he bonded with the Rothchild family,
and later that night while in bed he and Rachel shared there stories of the
day.
* *
* * *
As a 12 year old, Rachel thought Leopold was most unusual. At 7 she had noticed that he seemed to have
within him what she could only call a ‘dark streak’. It was not a streak of evil. Nor hatred.
Nor sickness nor any form of depravity or violence. Leopold was a lawful and dutiful son. He obeyed his parents and followed their
traditions they taught him. But she
noticed that within his spirit was what she could only call ‘vengeance’. It seemed as if it was defiance or
aggression. Not hatred or despisement,
but determination. A completely
dedicated soul, as if he was determined to prove something in life.
And at 12 she noticed that it had not changed, despite her efforts
to soften him, but deepened and darkened.
Callodyn had told her to leave the child alone. That Leopold was under control and that his
heart was a private affair. Rachel
reluctantly acceded to her husband’s request, but feared for her beloved
Leopold.
In the faith which had been rekindled in her heart with Callodyn’s
return, she prayed for her son. She
prayed that God would soften him and take away the dark spirit. But as much as she prayed, she sensed the
spirit constantly teaching her that Leopold was within God’s purposes and that
she should accept him as he was.
So, reluctantly, Rachel accepted God’s leading, but looked on at
her son and hoped for the best.
* *
* * *
Rachel read the song lyrics from the CD that Callodyn had given
her. The band was an Australian band
called ‘Taxiride’. She had heard about them
in Australia when Daniel had mentioned them, but had never taken an
interest. Daniel had sent the CD for
their ‘Imaginate’ album to Callodyn and had suggested in the accompanying
letter that he might like to give it as a gift to Rachel. She particularly liked song number 3,
‘Everywhere you go’, of which she had seen the video a number of years back,
and loved singing along to the song. But
her favourite – perhaps or perhaps not – was song number 7, simply entitled
‘Rachael’. The spelling was one letter
different to her own name, but she didn’t care.
The songwriters obviously had put much effort into the song. The song seemed deep and loving, and the
‘Rachael’ they spoke of seemed a hard to reach girl, a girl seemingly beyond
their grasp. She silently wished – or
hoped – that they may one day find their beloved ‘Rachael’
* *
* * *
A few months after his 12th birthday, Leopold and his
best friends Alex Radrillion, and Justin Goldfire were off on one of their many
usual adventures around Crossden, playing on the tracks of the now abandoned
train yard. Leopold had suggested they
go to the yards and hang around. It was
a place they went as a trio from time to time, and today they had some
cigarettes which they had stolen from the shops in town. Leopold had dared Alex to steal the
cigarettes if he could, to which Alex had reluctantly agreed. Justin had said that it was wrong, but gone
along with the idea anyway. He sensed
that Leopold was in one of his usual dark moods so thought best not to object
too much.
They were up on the platform of the abandoned train station,
coughing and spluttering over the cigarettes as they tried to prove their
manhood, when they heard the sound of a gate slamming. Heads turned they noticed a man in his early
twenties coming towards them with a knife in his hand. Justin spoke up, ‘Shit. Hey we better run. That guy looks nuts.’ Alex spoke, ‘Fuck yeah. I’m out of here.’ Alex and Justin started walking away but
Leopold just stood there, smoking the cigarette. Alex looked at him. ‘Come on Leo.
He might do anything to us.’ But
Leopold just stood there, seemingly not caring.
Justin spoke. ‘Look Alex, Leo has
a point to prove. You know him. Let’s just leave. His problem – not ours.’ Alex looked at Justin, and looked at the guy
with the knife. Who was standing about
30 metres away, looking menacingly towards them. ‘Yeah, well.
Okay. Sorry Leo. Your problem.’ Leopold said nothing. Alex and Justin stared at Leo for a few moments,
and made there way onto the tracks, and followed them, leaving the area.
The man with the knife watched them go and then looked at
Leopold. He started slowly walking
towards Leopold, tapping the blade of his knife against his hand.
Leopold stood there, watching him as he approached. ‘Are you gonna use that knife?’ he asked
him. ‘What the hell is your problem kid
– it’s a bloody knife. I can kill you
with this.’ ‘Go ahead – try,’ said
Leopold. The hooligan looked at Leopold,
and looked into his eyes. In there, for
the briefest of seconds, he felt something.
A power. A dark, furious,
power. A power, which the man knew, in
some way, that in his choices in life, he served. He knew that this child, whoever he was, was
not to be tangled with. ‘Uh, kid. Look – no worries. You seem like a great kid. I guess I don’t need the money that
bad.’ With other such apologies the man
gradually backed away from Leopold.
Leopold stood there, watching
the man leave, refusing to move one inch. When he had left the scene, Leopold relaxed a
little. ‘I am a Bradlock’, he thought to
himself. ‘And we do NOT back down.’ Silence, with the nearby leaves rustling in
the wind, answered young Leopold.
Chapter Eight
When Leopold turned 16, he left Crossden high-school, and begun
working with his Father, Callodyn, who was now the manager of ‘The Red Boar’
pub, were he had been working since coming to Crossden. Something which both Rachel and Leopold had
noticed about Callodyn was his quite slow ageing. When Rachel had met Callodyn, he appeared to
be the age he had said of 37. That was
around 17 or so years ago. In that time,
he really only looked if he had aged 4 or 5 years, and looked around 41 or
42. And now, Rachel had been given an
explanation for this slow aging process.
An explanation which Callodyn explained would necessitate their family
moving from Crossden permanently very shortly.
Callodyn had introduced a friend he had called ‘Atros’. Callodyn had stated that ‘Atros’ was an
angel. Rachel had laughed a little at
his humour, and in that laughing she suddenly became aware of the hidden
memories in her mind of the disappearance of Callodyn. She remembered, then, what he had said. That he was the old devil, Satan, and how he
had disappeared in a bright light. And
so she questioned her husband, savagely, trying to understanding exactly what
he had meant and, as she put it, ‘what the hell was going on’.
Callodyn had told her everything.
He had shared his stories about the Realm of Infinity, his prior
existence, all of which Atros had confirmed.
But she remained doubtful until Atros had performed certain magical
feats which then had her convinced. The
whole story about his test, his disappearance and then reappearance all seemed
to make sense. And so many things that
Callodyn had said to her, and observations she had made, all gelled with this
being the very truth of what her husband really was.
‘Married to the Devil!’ she had exclaimed, to which Callodyn had
replied, ‘Well I’m not that bad a Devil, am I?’
Rachel had laughed uncontrollably at her husband’s wit, and then hugged
him. ‘If the Devil ye be, the Devil ye
be, dear Callodyn. But I love you
regardless.’
Callodyn had gone on to explain, in new Atros had shared with him, that
Rachel was now made barren by God, but for a reason. Their family would age to their mid 40s, but
not beyond. The three of them were to
spend a great deal of time still on planet earth. God, so Atros had said, had a destiny in mind
for the three of them. But not just this
three. Others were on earth at this
moment – others who would be granted great ages – of which three of them were
close friends of Leopold, Justin Goldfire, Alex Radrillion and Leopold’s
girlfriend, Jane Talbourne. God
required, within a few years, for Callodyn to take Rachel, Leopold, Jane,
Justin and Alex elsewhere – to start again.
For the time being nobody could know who they were or how old they were.
This upset Rachel, but she had known that it was still,
nevertheless, the truth. She knew
Callodyn had essentially stopped aging, and felt that she herself, now in
hindsight, for the last 2 or 3 years, seemed perhaps to have halted also in the
aging process. She would have to
farewell her mother and her brother – something which would break her very
heart. But if that was to be, then that
was to be. She would simply have to
cope.
Callodyn had announced their new destination – New Zealand. Meeting immigration requirements to New
Zealand was not too difficult for citizens of the United Kingdom, given their
close alliance. But they would do so
with new forged identities, which Atros said he would arrange with
Callodyn. Heaven would assist them in their
new life. God would ensure that
everything ran smoothly for themselves.
They simply had to arrange, within a few years, for Alex and Justin to
accompany them – something which Leopold would be key to achieving. And then, a new beginning. A new chapter in Rachel’s life. But, so Atros said, a day was approaching, in
the not too distant future, in which many events would culminate – and Rachel
would be given many answers to questions she had not yet, but definitely would,
formulate. For Rachel Bradlock, wife of
the old Devil, a new future awaited.
Epilogue
God considered the life of Rachel.
In due course, she would die, and with Samael join him in the Realm of
Infinity, which would be her home.
Rachel was to be a special human.
And more than human – angelic. He
thought on the words she had once spoken, about the only love for God being an
Israelite queen. God thought on his
nature, and understood his children’s perspective, which were to his mind in
some ways opposed. An infinite being did
not relate in exactly the same ways that finite beings did. It did not seek the types of relationships,
or the same type of love, in the same way, that his creations did. Many of them yearned for love – deeply. But God had existed eternally alone. Love had been in him – it surrounded him – it
filled his life and soul. Each moment he
dwelt in spiritual bliss. The creation
of Angels and Mankind had been from a yearning, though, to express that
love. To let it have a medium, an
avenue, in which he could share his heart and joy. But that love needed to be tested. It needed to go through certain trials and
tribulations before it could be shown to be real – to be shown to be genuine.
Life on earth was part of that test and trial for his
children. In this life they would learn
love and joy – yet because of the nature of evil, hate and despair as
well. Such was the reality of their
condition, a reality he knew so well.
Rachel, a child of Israel, was, despite her thinking otherwise, to
be his queen one day. He had many
queens, many beloved daughters and princesses – but Rachel was to be the
lastborn of the Cherubim, and the firstborn of the Ketravim. She, like Semyaza, Michael and the others,
held a special place in his heart. They
were the firstborn, his beloved ones.
Other children did capture his heart in a way that they did not always
do so, but they would be, due to their birthright, the honoured ones. The ones set apart for a glory all their own.
Rachel was loved. And in the
destiny ahead of her, he would make her aware of the love that was felt for
her. Both his own, and that of many
others. Many others.
THE END