Worthy of Rain

by Elizaveta Fehr

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I took a deep breath and climbed the stairs to the attic. I finally glanced down at the Bible, anxiety replaced with anticipation as I flipped to my bookmark. The open window let in an afternoon chill, making the thin pages flutter like wing tips. My eye caught the first word, and that’s when the world started to spin.

  The crowd pressed around me, pushing and shoving each other and training their eyes on something I couldn’t see ahead. Elbows and shoulders pressed into me and I winced, surprised by the instant change in scenery. I was getting better at adjusting, but it was still just as bizarre as that first time in the woods.

  Someone else elbowed me in the rib cage. I wasn’t going to get anywhere if I stayed with this crowd of people. Dropping to my hands and knees, I crawled across the ground. The tunic that had replaced my jeans and T-shirt kept getting caught under the feet in the crowd. The sandals I had on were clunky. I considered ripping them off, but thought better of it. Who knew when I needed to make a run for it? I didn’t exactly have a great experience with cities the last couple stories.

  Finally, I pushed past the last robe and stood up, wiping the dirt off. A brusque shove from a pair of hands brought me back a step, and I finally had the chance to glance up.

  A guard dressed in armor got in my face.

  “Stay back,” he ordered the crowd, pressing me towards the mob of people.

  I looked past the red feather on his helmet and stared in awe at the sight behind him. A massive statue, maybe close to a hundred feet, stood glistening in the sunlight.

  The statue was made of gold.

  Another smaller crowd was surrounding it and, almost instantly, my eyes met with three other familiar faces.

  “Genesis!” Mishael waved. Hananiah and Azariah did the same when they saw me. In one swift motion, I ducked underneath the guard’s arm before he noticed and ran to them.

  They all circled around me and hugged me. I laughed, relieved to see faces I recognized.

  “You look like you haven’t aged a day,” Azariah joked. I laughed again but stepped back, uneasy. Now that I was closer, I realized their boyish, teenage faces were no longer there—only faces of grown men. In the time that they aged several years, I aged a week.

  “Where’s Daniel?” I asked them, hoping to change the subject.

  “He has been busy. King Nebuchadnezzar has made him chief over the province of Babylon,” Mishael explained. “We actually have been busy too by helping Daniel with the rest of Babylon’s affairs.”

  “And you probably should call him Belteshazzar,” Hananiah chimed in, speaking to me.

  “Who?” I asked, confused.

  “That’s Daniel. We were all given new names. I am Shadrach, Mishael is Meshach, and Azariah is Abednego.”

  “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,” I repeated. Catchy.

  “Wait,” I added. “So…that means your three are years up. You all have come a long way. What happened to the others? I thought all of those who were in training would make it into the king’s service.”

  Hananiah, now Shadrach, shook his head. “When King Nebuchadnezzar realized how different the four of us were from the rest, he knew that no one else could ever come to our level. From then on, we’ve been working for him as advisors.”

  Meshach cut in, “And what about you? You disappeared after a while and we haven’t seen you since.” He looked worried as he looked me up and down.

  I paused briefly before saying, “I had some things to take care of.” It wasn’t really a lie.

  The three of them looked at each other skeptically.

  “What’s going on?” I continued, addressing the crowded square.

  Abednego frowned a little before answering. “Nebuchadnezzar has called for all officials of the province to come here. That means governors, advisors, judges…”

  “He’s made a statue of himself,” Shadrach said, craning his neck so he could see the top of the slab of gold. Worry lines were forming across his face. I looked over his shoulder at the gold statue towering above our heads. My stomach ached with anticipation—the ominous kind.

  “Let’s just say this gathering might not end well.” Meshach’s eyes clouded over.

  I looked in the direction he was facing. Standing next to the statue was a stubby man with a scroll in his hand. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward and unrolled the scroll.

  “People of the province, listen to the king’s command. When you hear the sound of the musical instruments, immediately bow down and worship King Nebuchadnezzar’s monument. Anyone who refuses will be punished by unimaginable means.”

  My heart stopped. They couldn’t be serious.

  I was wrong.

  Near the front of the crowd was a small group of musicians. I recognized a few of the instruments, like the harp and the flute, but most looked odd to me. I watched as a man nodded to the others and began plucking the strings of his lyre. As everyone else followed him, I glanced at the crowd anxiously. Was this really happening?

  The front row bowed their heads, followed by the rest of the people.

  Fear gripped me. After I started to kneel, I stopped in the middle of my crouch, frozen between standing and kneeling, not being able to complete the bow or get back up.

  You need to blend in. That’s always how it’s been.

  Somehow, that fact couldn’t comfort the twinge of guilt in my stomach. I looked up at Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. After the rest of the crowd bowed, they were the only ones standing. Abednego looked at me. His face told me nothing, but his eyes held oceans of disappointment. My heart caved in. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to choose.

  But I never got the chance.

  The man holding the scroll motioned to the guards. Five of them grabbed my three friends and began leading them closer to the statue. Everything in me clicked to life, and on shaky legs, I stood up and followed them.

  I didn’t bow down. But I didn’t stand. Was that a victory within itself, or was I a coward? It didn’t matter anymore.

  All I knew was that I had to mend the hole I had torn.

  For the first time since I had started to read the Book of Daniel, I saw King Nebuchadnezzar. He adorned himself in robes and silks, overflowing with jewelry. He had a detached disposition and an air of superiority as heavy as the silk on his back.

  “My king, there are three Jews here who will not obey your law. They refuse to worship the gold statue.”

  The king looked down at them without moving his head.

  “Is this true?” His eyes flared like sparks in a fire pit.

  The three of them didn’t move.

  “I will give you one last chance to obey me. Refuse again and you will be thrown into the furnace,” he challenged. “What god will save you then?”

  The crowd hushed. Shadrach was the first to speak. “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves against your power because we have faith in our god to save us.”

  “But even if He doesn’t, we want to make it clear—it will never be you whom we bow down to,” Abednego added. Their expressions were placid and determined.

  I took a step back, staring in horror at the rage boiling to the surface on Nebuchadnezzar’s face.

  He stood. “Heat the furnace seven times hotter,” he growled under his breath. A group of soldiers lunged forward to grab them.

  With a callous gleam in his eyes, Nebuchadnezzar spat at their feet, the yellow glob of saliva leaving his cracked lips. “Throw them in.”

  Before I could think, I darted from my spot. “Stop!” someone yelled and I realized the voice was mine.

  The world was spinning.

  I thrust myself towards a guard at the entrance of the furnace. My hands reached towards his waist. But instead of using my momentum to knock him off balance, I fell straight through him. As if I were a ghost, my body went forward with my momentum and I stumbled.

  The flames engulfed me as my screams ripped into the air.

 
Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Whoever does not fall down and worship will

  immediately be thrown into a blazing furnace.”

  Daniel 3:6 NIV

  The world was black now. I couldn’t feel my body anymore. It had gone numb, my skin unfeeling. The only thing I could feel was the stable ground beneath me.

  Carefully and slowly, I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was a red flame lapping at my face.

  My first instinct was to jerk away. I knew where I was. Smacked dab in the heart of the furnace.

  I was in hell. Which meant I was dead.

  Beyond the gaps in between the flames, stone walls surrounded me. My sandaled feet scraped the ashy ground and the stone underneath the ash. Massive tree trunks lay across each other, bark peeling off in the now crumbling embers.

  I couldn’t feel it, but I suddenly had the feeling that someone was touching me. I jumped and spun around. A man stood behind me in a simple robe cinched at the waist with rope. He had dark brown, shoulder-length hair and captivating blue-green eyes. They held so much inside of them, like another world was waiting behind two gateways. They were so blue and shining in front of the crimson background. He looked peaceful standing there, smiling at me with ordinary lips and an ordinary beard and moustache that were lifted slightly from the slant of the smile. Somehow, I felt like I recognized him.

  I wondered why someone so ordinarily beautiful could exist in a place like hell.

  He gently placed his hand on my shoulder and pushed, like he was telling me to turn around. I obliged, catching a glimpse of another face peering into the flames.

  There stood Nebuchadnezzar with all of his advisors, their mouths open in utter shock.

  A short laugh escaped my lips, which ended up sounding like a choking gasp. It surprised me nevertheless. I knew why I was laughing. It was because that was when I finally realized I was not in hell, or even dead.

  I was alive.

  Completely unscathed in the center of a burning furnace.

  There was no pain, my clothes didn’t burn, my hair wasn’t singed, and yet, flames danced around me, lunging towards me and grabbing me with yearning fingers. The man brushed by me and stood next to Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. They were completely unharmed and were waiting for him, smiles on their faces. The four of them exchanged words that I couldn’t quite catch. I could hear Nebuchadnezzar’s voice, muffled and distant beyond the crackling of the fire.

  “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, servants of the Most High, come out of the furnace!”

  They looked at the man, and he nodded. Dipping their heads in farewell, the three of them walked towards the entrance and stepped out of the flames.

  “Praise to the god of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. He has sent someone to rescue you from the deadly flames of the burning furnace.” Their figures disappeared from view as they moved farther and farther away. On the ground in front of me, four guards were sprawled out. Three of them were lying face up, one facedown. Their mouths were open, stuck in an “O” shape. Faces charred. Skin peeling away like ashes.

  I backed away, gag reflexes triggered, and my stomach clenched in short spasms.

  “Your friends can’t hear or see you, Genesis. They are in God’s hands now. You don’t need to worry.”

  I turned around to see the same man standing behind me, his eyes twinkling.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Ready for what?” I asked him, turning my back to the soldiers.

  “To go home.”

  I glanced over my shoulder one more time. Abednego looked back into the furnace, his eyes searching the flames. For what, I wasn’t sure—the man maybe.

  Without taking another glance, I turned around and followed the man further into the fire, listening to the stranger’s footsteps. It didn’t take long for us to get to the back of the furnace. The stone wall was surprisingly cold to the touch. I looked around.

  “How are we supposed to—” I began, but then I swallowed down the rest of my sentence. A dark tunnel appeared in the wall’s place. The man smiled and continued on.

  I didn’t have a choice but to follow after him.

  I didn’t hear any sounds inside the tunnel. Like a silent void, the darkness enveloped me tightly. I couldn’t hear our footsteps, and I didn’t feel like we turned in any direction. We just walked straight ahead of us.

  After an eternity, I felt myself bump into him. I knew he was facing towards me now because I could feel his breath blow across the top of my forehead.

  “Close your eyes,” he said. I obeyed even though I could see just as well with my eyes open. I waited for him to say something else.

  “Is something supposed to happen?” I finally asked, my patience starting to wear away. There was no reply.

  Slowly, I took a peek through half-closed eyelids.

  “Oh,” I said out loud, startling myself. The attic room looked the same as I had left it. The Bible still sat at my feet. Closing it, I put the book back in its spot on the shelf and took the stairs two at a time back to the kitchen. I closed the attic door behind me and looked at the clock—3:47 p.m. Exactly two minutes had passed since I was in the book.

  My phone that was sitting on the kitchen table vibrated. I jumped and grabbed it, a new text lighting up the screen. Dad would be home late.

  Dinner was the same as usual. Sports on the TV in the living room, the local deli meatloaf, and Dad with his reading glasses grading papers between bites. I went to bed early that night. I was exhausted, and the furnace man’s face kept appearing in my mind like a bright flame. Then I saw Abednego peering into the fire, looking for the mysterious savior.

  Before my head hit the pillow, a thought churned in my head, keeping me lying awake well into the morning.

  If this stranger was sent from God to save three men from a burning furnace, what big part of this whole Christianity thing was I missing?

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Hey, Gen,”

  Aven greeted me as I walked up to her tiredly before the first bell rang. She was shoving her bulging backpack into her locker, leaning on it with both arms and her shoulder.

  “Hey,” I yawned, taking a short scan around the hallway. It was packed and there was barely enough room to move around as people dropped off last minute items into their lockers.

  Aven turned around and tried to push her bag in with her back. “Just…give…me…a …second.”

  I unhooked one of her backpack’s straps that was stuck on the locker hinge and she fell onto the ground, heaving.

  “Thanks,” she blew a piece of hair out of her face and we giggled, the first bell screeching across the school. I helped her up. She spun her lock to make sure it was secure.

  Aven and I may have hit a dry spot lately, but she was still my best friend. Whatever was going on with our friendship lately, it seemed like it was okay today.

  “Ready for this science test?” I said.

  “Auuughhhhh,” she groaned. “I forgot my science binder.” She spun on her heel and opened her locker again. I just shook my head.

  “You’re a mess,” I yawned again.

  “And you’re Sleeping Beauty. Did you even go to bed last night?” she said as she hoisted her science book against her hip and shut her locker for the second time.

  “Yeah, I just…”

  I didn’t like keeping things from Aven. It didn’t feel right. But this secret was something I had to keep, for now at least. Just like I had to keep it from my dad.

  My dad. Keeping this all from him was slowly eating away at me. We needed each other. Especially since he was all I had and I was all he had. But I knew I couldn’t tell him. It was the last thing I needed to do.

  “I just stayed up late studying for that test,” I finished. I shrugged it off. Aven didn’t seem to notice.

  I walked into first period and sat down, setting my bag next to me. Jacob, a kid in my grade, pulled out a sheet of paper with the words “Project: Vietnam” written across
it. My heart fluttered wildly as I remembered.

  The project.

  I turned to where Jace was sitting a few desks away. “Jace!” I hissed, trying to get his attention. All I wanted to do was ignore him as much as I could, but my grade depended on us cooperating, so I didn’t seem to have much of a choice.

  “Jace!” I hissed louder.

  “Okay, get with your partner and find another seat in the classroom, then we can begin,” Mrs. Whitaker announced. I flung myself from my seat and raced across the room.

  “Jace,” I panted, colliding into the desk in front of him just as another girl got up to move places. “We forgot to pick our topic!”

  “What?” He looked up and frowned, annoyed.

  I swear that boy was deaf.

  “I expect everyone has at least some idea as to what topic they will choose. As I go around, tell me your topic and then we can go over the guidelines as a class after everyone has chosen. There’s going to be lot of papers you’ll need and a lot of waiting, so bear with me here.”

  “Topic,” I hissed loudly. “What’s our topic? We never decided.”

  “Genesis and Jace, you’re first up.”

  Too late.

  Jace’s jaw dropped open. I looked at him with wide eyes. Reluctantly, we both got up from our seats and walked up to Mrs. Whitaker’s desk. Her pencil was posed above the blank spot next to our names. The class began to talk loudly again, squeezing in last minute arguments.

  We stared at her blankly for a few moments

  “Well?”

  Jace was the first to speak. “Uh…we choose…” he paused before continuing. “The Bible.”

  Mrs. Whitaker froze. She chuckled and tapped her pencil on her desk. “The Bible? As in Adam and Eve, the flood, walking on water, etc., etc., etc.?” She laughed. “Pick something else.”

  Jace frowned and glanced at me. I was just as dumbstruck, so I didn’t offer him much support.

  “Mrs. Whitaker,” he began carefully. “The Bible is a part of history. Whether people believe in God or not.” Mrs. Whitaker stiffened at the word “God.”

  “I know,” she responded with a hint of annoyance. She frowned down at the paper. “So…just the Bible in general? No specific ‘story’?” The sides of her mouth turned up in an amused smile.