by Jon Steele
‘Marc, I’m sorry. I ate everything.’
He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at the empty stool next to the table. Smiling, mouthing words to himself.
‘Marc?’
The timbers creaked and the room shook with the bell sound, but Rochat didn’t move. The bell quieted, Katherine touched Rochat’s arm. She saw him blink slowly and turn his eyes towards her.
‘Hey, what happened to you?’
‘Marie rang eleven times.’
‘No, before the bell, I mean. What happened to you?’
‘Your mouth was full. It took me to beforetimes.’
‘Before what?’
‘Beforetimes.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Sometimes I imagine people and things. I can see them and talk to them.’
Katherine looked at the empty stool.
‘So who were you talking to just now?’
‘Grandmaman.’
‘You saw your grandmother … like, here?’
‘Oui. She was telling me it wasn’t nice to eat with my mouth full. But the chocolate cake was good and I asked for ice cream on top. That made her laugh and she told the butler to bring ice cream and the chef sent a big bowl. Grandmaman took out her teeth and set them on the table and started eating and couldn’t stop, then her mouth was full as mine. Then I heard you telling me to come back, so I did.’
‘So she was in your head?’
‘She was in her house in Vufflens, it’s a castle.’
‘Your grandmother lives in a castle?’
‘With a butler named Bernard and four maids and a cook named Adolpho. I thought you were an imagination once.’
‘Me? No, I’m real, but your grandmother and the others, are they real?’
‘Oui.’
‘And your grandmother lives in a castle, for real?’
‘Not any more, she’s dead.’
Katherine remembered someone else.
‘Downstairs, when I was cleaning up, you talked about an organist?’
‘Monsieur Rannou.’
‘Yeah, that guy. You said he was dead, didn’t you?’
Rochat nodded.
‘And do you see him too sometimes?’
‘Only once, but he won’t come back any more.’
‘How do you know?’
‘He told me, three nights ago.’
She covered her face with her hands. ‘I must still be stoned.’
‘Does that mean full?’
‘No, it means … it means I’m a little confused.’
‘There was an accident when I was born.’
‘An accident?’
‘I got tangled up in a cord because of my foot. It’s twisted and my leg is crooked. Then Maman died and I came to Switzerland to live with Grandmaman and Papa. Papa taught me to draw and Grandmaman sent me to Mon Repos School for children like me.’
‘Children like … you.’ Katherine turned her teacup in slow circles. ‘This school, was it for retarded kids?’
‘I don’t know what that means.’
‘Forget it, it’s a terrible word. I’m sorry. Can I ask you something?’
‘Oui.’
‘Does it ever scare you to imagine people and things that aren’t, like, there?’
Rochat thought about it.
‘Non. Can I ask you something now?’
‘Sure.’
‘Don’t you ever imagine things?’
Harper typed in the words, a search page popped open at the speed of light. ‘Results: 1-100 of 1,880,000 for the Book of Enoch’.
‘Blimey.’
His eyes ran down the top of the list.
Book of Enoch and Secrets of Enoch at reluctantmessenger.com
Book of Enoch translated from the Dead Sea Scrolls at heaven.net
About the Book of Enoch at you’regoingtohell.com
‘Tell me something I don’t know, mate.’
He scanned the entries.
Blips of words blinked through his eyes.
He pulled paper and pen from the desk drawer for another round of note-taking: ‘Once cherished by Jews. Dealing with the nature and deeds of the fallen angels, tells the story of angels mixing with women. Extinction level impacts from outer space predicted by 2012’.
He scrolled through thousands more, watching the references flip by. He pulled his finger from the mouse pad. See what pops up: ‘Book of Enoch. Its History, Fallen Angels and UFOs’.
‘Too good not to.’
He clicked the words; the screen went black, then filled with thousands of computer-generated stars. Words appeared amid the stars, floating in deepest space.
He clicked back to the search page, another too-good-not-to entry nearby: ‘The Watcher Files: UFOs, Aliens, Reptilians, Secret Government’.
‘The greatest book of the Bible never read, no bloody wonder.’
He decided to pass. He walked across the room and raided the mini-bar. Walked back to the bed, picked up the telephone, punched the magic button next to the man with the tray.
‘Oui, Monsieur Harper, how may I serve you now?’
‘I’d like the minibar refreshed with beer, please.’
‘Refreshed with beer, monsieur. Absolument, tout de suite.’
‘No hurry, there’s three left. Just giving you a heads-up.’
‘Le heads-up. Of course, monsieur.’
‘What happened to the waitress with the gun?’
‘Mademoiselle has been dispatched to the Lausanne Palace, for monsieur’s club sandwich, with chips.’
‘Cheers.’
He dropped himself in front of the computer, scrolled back to the search page, eyed the list. ‘Book of Enoch at FinditNow: the free encyclopaedia’.
He gave it a double click. The page blinked open with pages of info, he started writing.
Enoch was great-grandfather of Noah. Man of visions, was said to have conquered death. Wrote visions on scraps of goatskin, transcribed by followers to parchment scrolls as the ‘Book of Enoch’. Original writings of Enoch and Hebrew transcriptions thought to have been taken (with original Hebrew transcription) to Egypt, kept in Great Library of Alexandria, translated and transcribed into Greek on papyrus scrolls, quoted by nearly all Church fathers. Enoch’s name mentioned throughout Jewish Bible, Jesus mentions Enoch in New Testaments. Hebrew text and Greek translation, along with Enoch’s original writings, assumed lost with destruction of Alexandria Library (history records Julius Caesar burned library in 48 BC – actually destroyed in series of acts over four hundred years).
Enoch’s writings fell into disregard – scholars doubt Enoch existed – struck from Hebrew scriptures by the Sanhedrin at Yavneh c. AD 90. Book totally discredited after Christian Council of Laodicea in 364 bans book from Holy Canon (Christian Emperor Theophilus, AD 391, orders all ‘apocryphal works’ of scripture to be burned throughout known world. AD 642, Arab Army sacks Alexandria, Amir ibn al Aas orders all ‘pagan’ writings contrary to Koran to be burned when found).
By now, Book of Enoch considered no more than legend. Two transcriptions of Book of Enoch found in Ethiopia in seventeenth century, written on papyrus scrolls in aboriginal Ge’ez script. Claimed to have been translated from Greek transcriptions while held in Alexandria Library, translated into English in 1906 by Reverend R. H. Charles but disregarded by biblical scholars at the time as mystical ravings of sub-human species of men (fragments in Hebrew found in 19th century, Slavonic fragments, fragments in Latin, fragments found in Akhim – all discredited as frauds).
1947, shepherd finds network of eleven caves above ruins of Qumran
The word Qumran highlighted in blue, he clicked it, the screen flashed to a new page. Harper scribbled more notes.
Qumran site of Essene cult of Judaism. Lived on shores of Dead Sea 100 BC–AD 70, spent their lives collecting and transcribing works of scripture and creation mythology. John the Baptist one of their number. Jesus of Nazareth visited Qumran during ‘Forty Days in the Desert’ – said
to have been tempted by ‘demon’ Azazel at nearby Mount Quarantania above Jericho.
Thirty years after time of Jesus, Jewish revolt against Roman Empire begins in AD 66. Romans burn Second Temple in Jerusalem (AD 70). Essenes place original scrolls and transcriptions in clay jars and hide them in nearby caves as Roman Army sweeps through Israel to burn and destroy all remnants of Jewish faith. Dead Sea Scrolls not found by Romans and lay undisturbed for two thousand years in dry desert air at lowest point on Earth.
Harper lifted the bottle for another swig, it was empty.
‘Bloody hell, Bible study is thirsty work.’
He got up from the desk, walked to the minibar, grabbed another bottle of beer. He cracked it open, sat back at the desk. He lit a fag, clicked back a few pages to the Book of Enoch, picked up with the shepherd finding the caves above Qumran.
Writings found in clay jars at Qumran called the Dead Sea Scrolls containing only transcription of Bible in ancient Hebrew left in the world. Cave number four called ‘The Cave of Secrets’ by biblical scholars. Contents of cave number four never revealed to world, now held in underground bomb-proof bunkers capable of withstanding nuclear attack in west Jerusalem.
Fragments of Book of Enoch (Aramaic) found in ‘Cave of Secrets’, proving, after thousands of years of denial, Book of Enoch was real – still banned from ‘Canon of Holy Scripture’ .
Harper raced over hundreds more entries. Something caught his eye; he stopped, clicked back.
The Meaning of Enoch
Depicts the interaction of the fallen angels with mankind. Taught men to make swords – beautifying the eyes – enchantments, astrology, taught signs of the sun and the course of the moon – fathered the Nephilim.
Nephilim: creatures who feed on human beings (suggests slavery, or forms of political, economic oppression), born of ‘demons’, who took form of men, and human women used to create a ‘new race on earth’. Cycles of breeding every hundred years. Ancient Aramaic translation curses Nephilim as ‘half-breeds’, said to have brought evil into the world, seek to capture the fire of creation (sic: God, Creator, Divine Force of Universe). Archangel Michael and celestial army sent to destroy Nephilim on Earth – hide and protect the fire of creation from the ‘demon’ Azazel.
‘Half-breeds and fires of creation. Sounds like a must-read. So where the hell is it?’
He clicked back to the search page, scrolled again, stopped. ‘>Ancienttexts.org/library/ethiopian/enoch/-1k’.
He gave it a double click. Computer screen turned the colour of desert earth for a solid minute, then an unrecognizable script spread slowly over the top of the page, like scratches in the sand. English words forming underneath.
The Book of Enoch
Translated from the Ge’ez Script by R. H. Charles, 1906
‘Well, well, the Reverend Mr Charles. I’ve heard so much about you and your barking book.’
Harper looked at his watch: just shy of noon.
He slid his finger over the mouse pad, settled the cursor over the entry.
He double clicked the computer. Nothing happened.
‘Come on, Reverend, talk to me.’
The screen faded to black, words began to form.
Book One: The Watchers
twenty-three
The timbers creaked and moaned, Katherine covered her ears.
GONG! GONG! GONG …
Twelve strikes shook the belfry tower. Rochat watched Katherine cringe as waves of sound roared through the loge. When the last strike finished, Katherine lowered her hands.
‘I guess that means it’s noon, huh?’
Rochat touched his finger to his lips, pointed to the crooked ceiling, to someplace up there. Katherine listened to a lovely and soft sound. She closed her eyes.
The sound now falling rainlike through the tower, splashing against the timbers and balconies before finding its way into the sky and drifting away. For a moment, with her eyes closed and dreaming, Katherine thought she could hold open her hands and feel the rainlike sound, fresh and cool on her skin. There was a girl once who loved that game, she could still see her, hiding under the garden trees, stretching her hands … The sound was gone. Katherine opened her eyes.
‘Wow. Which bell was that?’
‘La Lombarde. She rings after Marie for five minutes at noon. She lives upstairs with the other bells. Do you want to see?’
‘Why do you call the bells “she”?’
‘Because that’s what they are. Do you want lunch now?’
‘Yeah, but are you sure nobody will come up here while you’re gone?’
‘Monsieur Taroni closed the tower to visitors because the snow and ice could make the balcony stones slippery.’
‘And Monsieur Taroni is …?’
‘The caretaker of the cathedral, he tells me what to do.’
‘Is he like the other ones?’
‘Monsieur Taroni’s not dead yet. He lives in nowtimes.’
‘Nowtimes. And that would be the opposite of …’
‘Beforetimes.’
‘That’s good, seeing that this Taroni guy tells you what to do and all. What about the guy you said works on Sundays?’
‘Monsieur Buhlmann.’
‘Yeah, him.’
‘Not dead yet.’
‘And there’s no chance any of these guys’ll come up here in … nowtimes.’
Rochat stood and took the ring of skeleton keys from the hook on the back of the door.
‘I have the only keys to the tower, and you can stand on the balcony and watch me go down Escaliers du marché and come back up. You can see the café from the balcony. Do you want to come outside and see?’
‘No, I’ll stay inside and wait.’
He shuffled by her and reached above the bed. He fiddled with the buttons and dials of the old radio.
‘You can listen to this radio. This is the button to turn it on, and this is the dial to find places in the air. It turns, like this.’
‘No, that’s all right, I’ll just sit here.’
Rochat reached behind the radio, pulled Monsieur Booty from his hiding place, where he was enjoying a nap.
Mew.
‘Oh, be quiet, you miserable beast.’
Rochat held the cat out to Katherine, its legs dangling like furry noodles.
‘What am I supposed to do with your cat?’
‘I imagined Monsieur Booty can be me when I’m gone.’
Katherine opened her arms and received the cat, who promptly nestled in her lap and went back to sleep. Rochat opened the small window that looked out to Clémence.
‘And I’ll leave this window open in case he needs to go out and do cat business. Just tell him not to scratch the timbers or eat the birds.’
‘No eating the birds, got it.’
‘I’ll get lunch now.’
He lifted his overcoat from an iron peg in the wall and slipped it on. He stuffed the keys in the pocket. He saw the look on her face.
‘Are you afraid to be alone in the cathedral?’
‘I’ll be all right. Just don’t forget to come back.’
‘You can call a friend if you want. The telephone’s old, like the radio. You have to turn the numbers wheel.’
She saw the telephone. Wood box with a mouthpiece and a rotary dialler, black receiver hanging on a hook, two tiny steel bells on top.
‘What a funny old thing.’
‘Sometimes it’s hard to hear because it’s so old, but you can call someone if you’re afraid to be alone.’
‘No, I can’t call anyone.’
‘D’accord.’
He turned around, opened the door. Sunlight flooded by him, blinding her eyes.
‘Marc, wait.’
Rochat turned back. ‘Oui?’
‘You won’t be long?
‘I won’t be long.’
‘OK.’
He watched the sunlight cross her face, her eyes catching the light and reflecting sparkly colours. She didn’t move.
> ‘Are you thinking about something?’ Rochat asked.
‘Yeah, I’m thinking there’s something I have to tell you.’
‘Do you want to tell me now?’
‘Not really.’
‘D’accord.’
He turned to leave.
‘No, Marc, wait.’
He turned back again and waited.
‘What I meant is, I don’t want to tell you now or ever. But I have to, right now. Those men you saw last night?’
‘From the bad shadows.’
‘The what?’
‘They came from the bad shadows.’
‘Yeah, those bad-shadow guys. They said they’d find me wherever I went, they said they’d kill anyone who helped me.’
Rochat stared at her. It took a long time to understand the words, no one had ever said such a thing to him.
‘Oh.’
‘That’s all you have to say?’
Rochat scratched his head and shuffled into the loge. He took his lantern from a shelf and set it on the table. He lit a match, set the lantern alight, shuffled back to the doorway and faced her.
‘It’s my duty to protect you.’
He pulled the door closed.
Katherine watched the flame in the lantern. She heard sounds in the quiet. Above the world, middle-of-the-sky sounds. The breeze moving through the timbers and circling the tower. Footsteps crossing the far-below esplanade. A trolley bus rolling over Pont Bessières, the whistle of the ferry crossing the lake. There was the briefest moment of tranquillity, before reality hit her over the head.