No Geek Rapture for Me_I'm Old School

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No Geek Rapture for Me_I'm Old School Page 43

by Jonelle Renald


  She stopped. “Oh, no! Did I do it again? Dynamite?”

  Ethan glanced back at Mia and smiled. “Don’t worry about it! But yes, there was an explosion.” He laughed. “If this keeps up, maybe I won’t have to tell the story. Again.”

  “Oh, haha. You think I can tell it for you. So, I have a question. Given everything, would you say that people back on Earth are being protected? So many bad things happen to innocent people who don’t deserve the awful tragedies they get involved in.”

  “Yes, I believe that people on Earth are protected too. Haven’t you heard the stories of people who just missed being in the towers on 9/11 but stayed home that day or they were late for some reason or they had somewhere else to be on that particular morning. Or people who don’t show up to catch their train or plane that later crashes? It’s horrible what happens to the people who were there, but it can’t be denied that warnings are given and fewer tragedies happen than might have happened otherwise.”

  “That’s true, I guess.” Mia gave a carrot to a big Belgian horse and then continued, “You’re right. Tragedies have been averted for many people. I was certainly rescued, protected, twice, if you look at the end of the adventure and not at the beginning. Me, I would have preferred to be protected before, not after. You know, pass up on all the fun and experiments, and especially the part about being kidnapped by monsters and giants, and the excursion to Hell. I’m not complaining, I do thank God for sending rescue. I’m just saying.”

  Ethan nodded, then said, “Yeah, but would you be here with me cleaning a barn if you hadn’t gone through the whole episode, scary parts and all? Wouldn’t you be sorry to have missed all this?”

  Standing in the stall he was mucking out, he spread his arms wide to include the whole mess.

  “Well, true.” Mia laughed. “Haha! There’s that!” She poured a bucket of water onto the floor of the main hallway down the middle of the barn, then picked up a push broom and started sweeping the debris toward the wheelbarrow. “But seriously, I would be sorry to have missed all this, as you say. In spite of all the pain and terror, I would do it all over again. I’ve already seen good conclusions to the evil that happened to me. The things I’ve learned, the people I’m glad to know now, commitments made to God. These things will change my life for the better. Maybe you no longer notice how incredibly unique this place is, but I am very happy to be here, so impressed at what a wonderful refuge this is, even if it is peaceful and quaint in a small scale sort of way. You are right. How could I have lived with myself had I missed any of this! So, I am glad to be here with you even amid the muck and dirt. But then, I’ve always had a secret desire to escape modern life and live like a hobbit.”

  “Just wait. It gets even better than this. You’ve only been here for one day.”

  Outside, Mia could see Enoch standing on the lawn outside the barn, Kit next to him. She yelled, “Hello!” and waved, then called to Ethan, “Look who’s here!” and ran to greet her new family.

  34 | Wish

  The following days she spent at Ismarsettehka, Enoch’s home, were both the most challenging and the happiest times of Mia’s life. This Arcadian way of life was absolutely low-tech, an idyllic throwback to ancient days where you worked by sweat of your brow according to the rhythms of nature. Helping with work around the farm, taking her turn at chores (cleaning the barn, cooking, doing laundry, getting firewood, weeding and gardening, helping move the cows daily to a new paddock in the pasture, gathering eggs, milking the dairy cows, moving the chicken tractor pens plus feeding the hungry birds, washing dishes, or cleaning the house, etc.). At times the routine was physically hard, but it was work that didn’t drain your soul of its energy. The slower pace and rhythm, labor that was more directly connected to the tasks needed for staying alive — for Mia, it all made for a very satisfying day. Maybe it wouldn’t seem as wonderful to everyone, but for her, this life was so much more meaningful than the never-ending pursuit of the latest and greatest that defines twenty-first century life.

  At first, as Mia got to know all the friendly people at Ismarsettehka, she thanked God for escaping the soul-numbing environment at iCon, for finding freedom from the pressure to be assimilated — let alone not having to be on guard against beasts, gargoyles, and evil supernatural beings. But it didn’t take long until she stopped thinking about iCon altogether.

  Everything about this new home was healing for her soul. Like the others did, she called the place she came from “back on Earth” because everything about Ismarsettehka was so different, so much better that she decided this couldn’t be the same planet, even though everything looked exactly the same. The animals, the plants, the weather, even the sky looked like it was the same Earth, but this was better. The water, the food, the air all felt like it was repairing something in her soul, healing troubles she could not have named before. Back on Earth, there had always been a constant and unacknowledged feeling that something was wrong, something was missing. That you needed to go somewhere, buy something, do something to feel better. That you needed MORE, even if you didn’t know what of. That feeling of lack didn’t exist in Enoch’s home. Here, she had a new health and soundness, body and soul, caused by a halt to endless wanting and its twin never receiving.

  She had been at Ismarsettehka less than a week when she sought out Enoch to ask a question that was weighing on her mind. “Greatest Grandfather, I’m worried and beginning to think that I need to leave. Not because I don’t like it here. Because I love every aspect of your home, from the bottom of my heart. It’s just — I’m capable — I’m very concerned that I will ruin this Paradise you have here by doing something stupid. No, not stupid, that’s not the right word. Something deliberately evil. It’s like I have an insane thought running through my mind where I want to try to break the perfect peace you’ve established here, not because I wish to wreck things, but just to see if I can. I am afraid I will act like Eve and choose to break a rule deliberately. Only it will be out of curiosity to see what will happen. And then because of my selfish experiment, I would bring death and sin crashing down on this place and ruin everything. What would happen if I deliberately choose to commit a forbidden offense here?”

  Enoch put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mia. This isn’t another Garden of Eden where any sin you may choose to commit or one particular violation will cause us all to be driven out. In fact, there have already been grievous sins committed here, including a murder, long ago. And on occasion, we have had to remove a few people who showed they could not be trusted to live here. No, you can put your mind at rest — you will not cause the ruination of Ismarsettehka by deciding to break any of God’s laws here. So you don’t need to protect us all by leaving. It’s to your credit that you are willing to give up your place here rather than cause us harm, but we are in no danger. Indeed, you are most welcome to stay as long as you wish or until the Most High calls you elsewhere. As my greatest granddaughter, I give you the run of the place.” Mia hugged him, relieved not to have to carry that imagined responsibility any longer.

  “Greatest Grandfather, I want to thank you — again — for how you always accept me and my incessant need to analyze everything. You never get irritated, never tell me that I ask too many questions, and you always try to answer me, help me learn how things are. I love details, and I know that can irritate the fool out of some people. But you never get impatient with me.”

  Enoch smiled and nodded. “Well, I share your fondness for details and learning as much as possible. I understand having a love for discovery and figuring things out. There’s so much to know, and it’s helpful when people share what they’ve already learned with someone looking for answers. God has allowed me to explore the farthest reaches of the natural and the supernatural worlds, and his permission lets me exercise my talents for investigating and finding out the truth. How could I object when you share that same thirst for finding out what everything m
eans?”

  In every way, Enoch was Mia’s greatest grandfather and treated her like family. At every meal, he asked to have a place set for her near his chair at the head of the table, and whenever Kit was home, he sat with them. And Enoch let her have free use of all the materials in his library, spent time talking with her about his travels when he was at home, listened to all her questions and discussed the issues at stake with her. Mia was worried that people who had been at Ismarsettehka for a long time would think she was presumptuous spending so much time with him, or that they would be jealous of her coming in as a close relative, disrupting balances in previous relationships. But she didn’t see any evidence of bad feelings toward her. People seemed happy that Enoch had found a family member and welcomed her as a favored granddaughter, and in every way, were just as friendly as they had been on the first day she had arrived.

  Mia appreciated the time she spent with Enoch because he was gone more than he was at home. He always let them know where he was going when he left, but not always the reason why or the exact date of his return. However, the farm and guild workers (the innocent souls who had died too young) always seemed to know the day that he would return, and even knew the time of day it would be, long before the ranger’s horn blew a herald and notification. Mia couldn’t discover how they knew, what signal informed them that Enoch would be riding through the stone archway toward the front door of the multi-storied wooden house, sometimes riding by himself on Maru-Dannum, sometimes escorted by a squad of watchmen and guardians. But when he returned home, there always were special treats baked early that morning, extra bouquets of flowers prepared for decorating Enoch’s rooms, his favorite meals already on the menu. No matter what the delay or if he came back days early, they were always prepared to greet Enoch on his return.

  These innocent souls loved being around Enoch when he was at Ismarsettehka, and had greater joy when he was home, even though they were always happy and at peace, day in and day out. She often heard them singing off in the distance when they were working on some part of the farm, and even when she couldn’t make out the words, she would stop and listen because the music was unlike anything she had ever heard before, beautiful and spirited, full of energy and peace, as well as a unique expression of joy. She frequently worked with them, harvesting and gathering in crops, repairing a stone wall, cleaning up some part of the farm, digging clay to make pottery, or making cob during a lengthy session of barefooted treading straw into clay for construction projects. But the innocent never sang their songs of joy unless they were by themselves.

  Since her arrival at Ismarsettehka, Mia had been doing research into The Watchers and Nephilim giants, using materials she found in Enoch’s library. It helped her put everything into a better perspective by learning about the nature of the supernatural beings who had hounded her at iCon — Chase Amunson, the gigantic son of fallen angels and Damien Cezary, one of the angels who had deserted his heavenly post so he could pursue his own pleasures on Earth.

  Going through the stacks in his library, it was immediately obvious that Enoch had started his library a long, long, long time ago because the shelves were filled with books and materials from all time periods, with volumes of an ancient age sitting next to titles that were only weeks old. There was a collection of books that had been printed during the fifteenth century in Europe when the printing press was a new invention as well as a collection from earlier centuries — scribe-copied texts in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew that had been written on parchment or papyrus, along with tall stacks of tightly rolled scrolls written before Jesus had been born. Dr. Adjani and Dr. Wynne McPhee had also been adding books to the collection, and Mia spent a lot of time in the library exploring.

  There was also a shelf full of books and manuscripts that Enoch had written, including the book he wrote (the first book anyone had ever written) as a prophetic word (he was the first prophet ever) that is quoted in both Old and New Testaments and contains prophecies of the end times. She found a poem in Chapter 42 that reminded her of the Biblical book of Proverbs.

  Wisdom found no place on earth where she might dwell,

  So a dwelling-place was assigned for her in the heavens.

  Again she sought a home among the children of men,

  And again, found no warm welcome, no open doors.

  Wisdom, rejected, returned to her place,

  And took her seat among the angels.

  Iniquity went forth after Wisdom’s return,

  And found a ready habitation with those unwilling.

  So Iniquity dwelt with them in Wisdom’s stead,

  As welcome as rain in a desert

  And dew on a thirsty land.

  Mia started reading one of his more recently written books containing research into the effects of literacy on human perceptions. She hadn’t realized that reading teaches people to have a broader focus, to see a bigger picture — literally. To read well, the eye can’t be bogged down in the details of each up and down stroke of the letters that make up words, and so readers learn to focus just above the ink on the paper to see the entirety of the words or the page. And then once this is learned, the barely-out-of-focus focus transfers to everything you look at. You see the whole, not the individual parts. When a literate person sees another person, they will see the whole face all at once, as an entirety. On the other hand, when non-readers look at a face, they don’t see the whole thing. They focus on each element separately — the eye, then the mouth, then the nose. Never the whole face at once.

  Mia thought, “That’s so interesting! Maybe that’s why magicians in medieval stories were thought to have the ability to transform themselves into the image of another person. The wizards realized the difference in how the majority perceived the world and took advantage of it. Change clothes and hat, change your hair color to match someone else, and people would be fooled. They can’t see the face or appearance as a whole, so they didn’t see any difference.”

  In another manuscript, Enoch had translated into English an ancient book written by an author from Syria who told a unique version of the biography of St. Christopher. In it, St. Christopher was an eighteen foot giant. Born into a tribe of dog-headed cannibalistic giants, his father was the Greek demon Anoubis. The not-yet saint became a follower of Christ after searching the world for the most powerful ruler, wanting to serve only the strongest man in the world. After his discovery that Satan was afraid of the cross, he chose to worship the Son of God by providing the service of carrying pilgrim travelers across a dangerous river. Mia thought, “Who knew! A dog-headed giant worshipping Jesus instead of acting as his enemy, trying to defeat him.”

  There was also a book with a collection of translated poetry. One stanza caught Mia’s eye:

  If I could but touch the sands of Babylon,

  I would remember the glory of days gone by.

  Horses racing across bright sands,

  Swords flashing, kings seated high and mighty.

  It was incredible to think that Enoch would have seen the rise and fall of the Babylonian empire when it ruled the Middle East. That he would had been over two thousand years old at that time. Mia shook her head. Once she started thinking about all the history he had been an eyewitness to, it was difficult to grasp all that Enoch had seen, experienced, and learned over the many centuries he had been alive.

  Her son Kit was also living at Ismarsettehka. She frequently saw the tall young man with green eyes and black hair ride away to patrol the earth as part of a squad of guardians and watchmen riding red, sorrel, and white horses. On occasion, Ethan, Preston, and Sofia rode with them. But whenever her son was home, she made it a point to spend time with him. Her son was interested in learning all the rules and techniques of competitive fencing, and after practicing the footwork and parry positions, he started duelling with Mia. It didn’t take long for him to become a serious challenger. They would often fence with sabers in the grassy yard between the ba
rn and the house, laughing as they tried to out-think each other while the swords clashed and moved swiftly, looking for an opening. He was so skilled that she soon found it difficult to put together the right combination of parries to prevent him from easily scoring touches. In return, Kit taught her techniques for saber fighting in a military setting, in actual combat. He often asked Ethan to join these lessons, in order to demonstrate how to defend against more than one adversary at a time.

  “Keep in mind that combat is different than fencing as a sport,” Kit said. “Always align the edge of your saber with your target while it is traveling through the target area, and don’t turn the sword until you have passed your target. Otherwise, the flat of your saber is likely to bounce harmlessly off your opponent’s arm instead of making a cut. Always move with the intention of making a cut, don’t ever be careless with the positioning of your saber.”

  Ethan added, “Attacks can come from any direction, and no one is going to make things easier on you with restrictive footwork or by placing buttons on the tips of their swords or by holding back on their strokes or by deferring to a referee. Also, the goal in sport fencing is met by making the slightest touch on your opponent. In combat, a touch alone will not stop someone who is trying to kill you. You will need to try to kill or incapacitate your adversary — a killing stroke, more than a simple touch.”

 

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