Chapter 4 – June 2025

Chapter 4 – June 2025

As lightning flashed across the sky, I cringed, fluttering uncertainty creating a riot of confusion in my poor, mortal mind. I had never before been unsure, never wondered if the path I trod was the right path, but now, nothing was clear: certainly not God’s purpose for me.

A lightning bolt cracked the sky with fire, a dart of light pointing towards me, and thunder rolled ominously across the low hills.

I fell to my knees, shocked and scared as a plume of dust rose upwards. But there, in the dirt, was a key – a large, iron key like the ones humans used to lock their churches. A note was tied to the shaft with a silken ribbon, copperplate handwriting etched across the papyrus. As I peered more closely, I perceived that it was not a note, not the Word of God, not a message for me, but instead an address. And in the dirt beside the key was an arrow pointing northwest.

I picked up the key, surprised to find it so hot to the touch that I had to juggle it between my fingers.

Gazing about me, there were no further clues as to the direction of my new life.

I whispered to myself, still unused to the raw, human sound of my new voice:

“And Our Father said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed.”

In other words, he had provided everything I should need.

I sighed, wondering where to start. But with only one choice ahead of me, I began to walk.

Sweat broke out across my skin, dripping from my face, pooling unpleasantly beneath my arms, in the valley of spine, between my buttocks and in my groin. Thirst roared across my tongue and my lips began to crack.

Heat blossomed across the land, making it shimmer and dance. I squinted into the light and saw a large house, made entirely of wood.

Was this to be my new home? Hope lightened my heart, but as I drew nearer, I saw that the house was badly rundown, the paint peeling, weeds choking the garden, and rubbish everywhere. A rusty bicycle lay in the front yard and unloved tools were scattered in the dirt. I checked the address on the key and lifted my eyes as sadness sank my soul.

Yes, this was to be my new home.

Suddenly, Anahita was standing at the front door. I could not say that she opened the door, nor that she stepped through it, because how could she? But certainly, she was there.

It was good to see my old friend and a feeble happiness dared to dart inside me.

But the leap and fall of sudden emotions confused and tired me. Was this how it was for all humans? This unexpected dance of passions, the constant inconsistent to and fro of feelings?

“Welcome home, Nuriel. Or perhaps I should say, ‘Welcome home, honey’.”

I stared at her, a very human response trembling on my dry lips.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I blinked as the words fell from my mouth, and Anahita smiled.

“It’s a fixer-upper. But It’ll be lovely – with a bit of work.”

“Right.” I paused. “I’m pleased to see you, Anahita, but why are you here? I thought this was my punishment alone?”

She cocked her head on one side.

“Father is not punishing you,” she sighed, her lips twisting in disappointment. “He is teaching you.” She paused. “And He thought you might need a friendly ear. He loves you, you know.”

I wanted to believe her, but Father felt so far away. Then another realization hit me.

“You’re my guardian angel now? Really?”

Anahita smiled broadly.

“Just call me ‘mom’.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m undercover,” she whispered. “If anyone asks, just tell them I’m your mother.”

“I can’t lie,” I said skeptically.

“It is true in my heart,” she said enigmatically. “Anyway, have you tried?”

“Tried what?”

“To lie!”

I was about to admonish her but then I wondered: to lie is a very human state … and now I was human…

I licked my lips and stared about me for inspiration. A dandelion poked out of a patch of weeds, its yellow petals bright in the sunshine.

“Uh … dandelions are … red,” I stammered.

Anahita clapped her hands together delightedly.

“Nuriel, you lied!” she said, sounding like a proud mother. “How wonderfully human of you!”

“Thank you?”

“Sarcasm too,” she sighed happily. “You’re learning so quickly. You’ll have no trouble fitting in.”

“But … to lie? Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord!”

Anahita nodded. “Proverbs 12:22. But Nuriel, think on this from Psalm 34, Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit.”

“Yes?” I said, unsure what point she was making. “Lying is wrong.”

“Nuriel, listen harder!” she said, her tone insistent. “Keep your tongue from evil.”

I was lost.

Anahita shook her head sadly.

“Do you think a girl who is unhappy about being overweight in unaware that she is overweight?”

“Of course not.”

“And if she asks you, ‘does my ass look big in this?’, the truth would be ‘yes’, but the kind thing to say is ‘no’. In Ephesians, Father says, Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, do you see?”

“Where does the donkey come into it?” I asked, truly puzzled.

She blinked, then laughed, the sound so beautiful, I couldn’t help but smile, too, although I knew not the source of her mirth.

“Oh, Nuriel, you have a beautiful soul – and you’ll make a wonderful human being.”

“You are the one with great beauty, Anahita.”

Her eyes lit with happiness.

“Thank you! But have you looked at yourself?”

“No, I don’t … I have never seen … myself.”

A mirror appeared in Anahita’s hands and she held it up. Then I beheld myself for the first time, staring at my reflection, amazed.

“That’s me? That’s what I look like?”

My face was … harmonious. Wide brown eyes with golden flecks, symmetrical cheekbones, lips like rose petals, a stern chin.

“Pretty cute. You’ll have all the girls – and boys – after you.”

“Is that … humor?”

“I’m not joking.” Then she pointed at an envelope inscribed with the same, formal handwriting. “Here’s your cover story: seventeen, Junior year, just moved into town. Here’s your schedule.I put music for an elective, but you’d better stick to guitar, not harp.”

I blinked.

“Anahita…”

“It’s ‘mom’, remember? Or Annie, if you must. Oh, and you have a job in the coffee shop after school. Lots of the students hang out there.”

“You sound like them, like humans.”

“I’ve been practicing,” she laughed. “It’s fun. You’ll have a wonderful time.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t voice my doubts.

“Anything else?”

She nodded.

“You’d better hurry. You’ll be late for school. Your chariot awaits,” and she pointed at the rusty bicycle.

Pedaling the rusty device was hard work and I soon began to perspire, my flesh feeling hot, my hands and clothes covered in the red dust that seemed to coat everything.

Some distance from the school, I passed a small cottage with a wraparound porch. A large vine grew across the front, offering a cooling shade that would be most pleasant.

A young woman emerged from the house, her hair the color of cinnamon, bouncing wildly around her slender shoulders.

She didn’t see me as she ran from the house but I heard her mother’s voice floating behind her.

“Esther?”

“Yeah?”

“Have a good day at school, honey.”

“It’s high school, Mom. There aren’t any good days.”

I smiled to myself at her parent’s use of the word ‘honey’, and I made a mental note to tell Anahita later. Then I wondered, when had she found the time to practice being human? I had only learned of my fate this day. Had she known of God’s plan for me all along?

The thought was not a pleasant one, and I was filled with doubt.

I followed the girl as she drove along the coastal road, so slowly that I had no trouble keeping up with her. The pavement fell away as the cliff crumbled into the unobstructed view of the ocean.

My spirits lifted with the light breeze rising up from the water, but the girl in the old car drove as if her sight were impaired and her car made of lead.

We arrived at the large, whitewashed school at around the same time, but as she was about to park her elderly vehicle, a small, red sports car zipped into the spot she’d carefully selected.

My expression darkened as I saw Lamia step from the red car, her long, black hair swinging behind her.

“You snooze, you lose.”

“That’s just rude!”

Lamia laughed.

“And that would bother me because?”

Esther screwed up her face in a scowl then selected another parking spot further away.

She walked quickly after exiting the car, and I realized that I was in danger of being late. I hurried behind her, running up the steps at the entrance, but then paused as I read the inscription: Welcome to Red Rock High. Home of the Diablos.

It did not seem an auspicious start.

As I hesitated, not knowing which way to go, a stern-faced man with thinning hair held up his hand and stopped me.

“You’re late.”

He was the first human with whom I had ever spoken and he looked like he wanted to send me to the fiery pits of hell.

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s my first day and…”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses Mr…?”

He waited, and I realized that he wanted to hear my name. My human name. I spoke it for the first time.

“Nuriel. Nuriel Adams.”

The man’s lips thinned even more, and he wrote something on a small piece of paper and handed it to me.

“Take a tardy slip, Mr. Adams, and try to make it on time in future, or you and I will be seeing a lot more of each other. Now get along to your class.”

Where do I…?” but he had already turned on his heel and left.

Great.

That’s sarcasm, because the situation was far from great. However, I smiled happily, knowing that I was learning, as Father had wished me to do.

The young woman, Esther, was walking towards me carrying a clipboard.

“Hi! Are you okay? You look a little lost there. Could you use some help?”

“Thank you, yes. I’m looking for…” I looked down at the schedule Anahita had printed for me. “I’m looking for AP US History.”

She smiled and looked at her clipboard.

“Oh, sure. Let me check. Down the hall on the right. Room 40.”

My smile slipped.

“Forty?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

I blinked, wondering whether or not I should tell her that that number symbolized a period of testing, trial, judgment, or transformation, often associated with spiritual or physical preparation. I was definitely in the right place.

“No, I … Thank you, Esther.”

“How do you know my name?”

“It’s on your pin.”

She glanced down at the bright yellow pin which read, Hey, I’m Esther! Here to help!

“Oh, of course,” she said, blushing furiously.

I wondered if her skin would be hot to the touch as blood rushed to her cheeks, and I found myself wanting to touch her. But even I who knew so little of humans, knew that I should not touch her without her invitation.

“It’s a lovely name,” I said instead. “Did you know it means ‘star’?”

I smiled at her and turned to walk in the direction she’d pointed. So, I didn’t hear what happened next, nor learn of it for many months, and by then, the consequences were severe.

“You’re welcome,” Esther said to herself. “Darn it! I should have asked for his name! I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” Lamia smiled to herself. “Oh, this semester is going to be so much fun.”

Her lips drew back, her fangs glistening.

“You’re going down, Nuriel. In flames.”