The Cherubim Rachael

‘Daughter of Eve’

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.

*   *   *   *   *

At the end of his year sojourn back in heaven, Samael decided that he would act upon Aphrayel’s words.  He would see Father about his concerns.  It was his final hope. Perhaps Father would consent to Samael returning to Earth.  He at least had to try.

The day of his appointment came and Samael fronted the throne room.  God was an omnipresent being, but related to the angels through the mediancy of the ever-burning fire situated atop of the throne.  God greeted him.  ‘Welcome Samael.  What is your business with me today?’  Father, as you know I came from Earth just last year, leaving a woman who had professed her deepest love for me.  However, I also love her, and that greatly.  The love is so compelling that I feel I can’t live without it.  I ask you, in your mercy, please return me to Earth and allow me to live out my life with the woman Rachel.  God was silent for a while.  However, he eventually spoke.  ‘Samael, I have searched your heart.  I know that this love is indeed true.  As you have atoned for your sin in my sight, I will grant you this request.  You will return to earth to live as a mortal.  When you die, you will be returned here to heaven.  Rachel may also live with you here in heaven when she dies, rather than in humanities paradise.  This grace I will allow you.  Go in peace, my son.’  Samael stared at the flames, until realisation of what God had said dawned upon him.  He had been successful.  Praise God, he thought to himself.  Praise God.

One week later, after having bid his friends farewell, Aphrayel came to his abode.  ‘Are you ready?’ she asked.  ‘As ready as I ever will be,’ replied Samael.  ‘Very well, let us go.’  Just then the familiar vortex of light appeared over Samael’s head.  It soon encompassed him and the familiar journey to Earth took place.

A few moments later, he opened his eyes, and looked around.  He was dressed in Jeans and a T-Shirt, and stood just in front of the Samaritan hostel.  He was back in Crossden.  ‘Thank God’, he thought to himself.  Looking at the sky, it was about midday.  He didn’t know what day of the week it was, but decided to try looking for Rachel at work.  He ran as fast as he could to the Social Security office.  Looking in through the window, he spied Rachel at her desk.  She seemed sad.  A look of despair was on her face.  Just then, Satan regretted ever leaving her.  Love was such an important thing he thought to himself.  He would never let it go again.

He entered the building, and came to her desk.  Without looking up, Rachel asked, ‘Yes, can I help you.’  Samael smiled.  ‘Yes, you can, wife of mine.’  Rachel quickly looked up, shocked at the person standing before her.  ‘Callodyn,’ she said.  ‘Is it, is it really you.’  ‘Yes, my love.  It is I.’ She got to her feet and ran quickly around the side of the desk, almost bowling him over, throwing her arms around him.  ‘Oh my dearest.  Callodyn.  Callodyn. I had thought I had lost you forever.  That day in the hotel – I thought it had been a hallucination.  And suddenly you were gone.’  Samael looked into her eyes.  ‘That was a test of heaven dear Rachel,’ he said.  ‘Perhaps both for me and you.   But it is over now.  And I will never leave you again.  I swear that to you.’  She continued to hug and kiss him, the absolute joy in her face giving pure happiness to Samael’s heart.  Samael had found true love.  True, pure and honest love.  Love that would last forever.

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 1^st 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 12^th 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 news 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