The Fall - By Chana Keefer

CHAPTER Twenty-Seven

Love



The next few days, though filled with watchfulness and grief, became the most treasured of Rapha’s existence. Sheatiel, heavy with child and approaching the time to give birth, asked probing questions about Rapha’s origins and, because her eyes would come alive with hope, he divulged much more to her than he had to any other, telling her of that place where all enjoy immediate and unlimited access to Adonai’s throne.

“You have really been there?” she asked one day as they sat beside a chattering mountain stream braiding the grasses that grew beside the water.

“Yes.”

“But how do you survive?

“I eat, I breathe, I sleep—just like you.”

“No, no, no,” she laid a hand on his arm, her eyes searching his face. “How can you bear to be removed from… Him?”

With that question she exposed Rapha’s torment.

“I cannot bear it,” and his hands trembled as he began threading the rope into a tight spiral. “But I remain. Therefore I continue to breathe.”

After a moment’s silence Sheatiel said, “When I was alone in the wilderness, I came to a place where my food and water were gone and I had no strength. I lay down under a small bush expecting to die. Then I fell asleep and dreamed, and I heard a voice say, ‘Eat! Drink!’ When I looked, bread was on the stones beside me and a stream was bubbling out of the ground. I embraced the blessing of insanity, ate and drank my fill, and slept again.

“Then, a man was there where the bread and water had been. He told me if I would eat the bread and drink the water he offered I would never again be hungry or thirsty. He was not handsome or tall like you, but somehow I knew he was what I had been looking for since the time I was a child, frightened by the images we were forced to worship. When I looked in his eyes, I felt clean, like all my pain had never happened.”

Rapha felt as if he were watching the sun appear and transform a dim world when he saw Sheatiel’s eyes glow with a childlike joy.

“When I woke,” she continued, “I was sad because that moment with him was all I desired.” She sighed and brushed away a lock of hair. “There are times I feel I would rather die than breathe again without Him.”

Her eyes searched his and Rapha was shocked to discover an understanding between them, she, harlot to evil, and he, misplaced son of heaven.

“Yes,” he answered the unspoken question. “It is like that.”

They wove in silence, allowing the wind, water and swaying grasses to fill the space between them. To Rapha, those sounds had suddenly become the sweetest music.

“I believe He was real.” Her words were so quiet Rapha almost missed them. “When I woke, my thirst was quenched and my stomach was filled so it must have been more than a dream. Every time I sleep I beg Him to come again. It was my hope when I lay dying, before you found me, that He would be there, but….” Sheatiel tied off the braid in her hands with a yank.

“But I came instead,” he finished her thought, then laughed when Sheatiel wrinkled her nose as if at an unpleasant smell. “So I am to be despised for saving your life?”

But she was in no mood for jokes. “I had no choice but to end the life of this one in my womb.”

“Because you fear the prince of evil who spawned it?”

“You have heard my thoughts,” she accused.

“I would not enter your mind uninvited but I see the truth. Evil followed you here because you carry its seed.”

Sheatiel took a deep breath. “I have told no one because I could trust no one.” Again she paused, lost in memories. “He was the shining ruler of our land. He was perfect, tall, and strong. Other men looked pitiful beside him. They say he descended from the sun and that the blood of the stars ran in his veins. I was bred to please him, chosen for my beauty and intelligence. It was the highest honor to be taken to the palace.”

She paused once again and shuddered. “But horrible things happen behind those walls. Soon I realized it was a prison. I saw the evil in his beautiful eyes and it repulsed me. But the more I hated him, the more he desired me. The more my tears flowed when I was forced to witness the horror of his sacrifices the more he chose me, out of his many women, to be by his side. He enjoyed my pain. Once he even confessed it made him feel alive again. He would beat me—and laugh.”

As she spoke, Rapha saw a picture developing of this prince, as if her words and even unspoken thoughts were coming to life in his mind. The tall, muscled body, the cunning and cruelty, even the occasional wit and charm could have been a perfect description of Lucifer in human form. In fact….

“What was his name?” Rapha asked.

“He had many. He preferred ‘My Lord’ but he was also called ‘Ra’ and ‘The Ba’al.’ Not exactly a name a mother would bestow.” When she spoke again she kept her eyes on the ground. “Only once did I feel I saw behind the mask he showed the world. He had… hurt me… worse than ever. He probably thought I was not conscious. I wished to be dead. But he spoke of his mother, how she would hate what he had become. Then he began to cry. I knew if I moved he would hurt me again so I lay still as he wept and said, ‘Oh my brother!’ over and over again.”

The image in Rapha’s mind was clear. There was no doubt.

“It is Cain. The child in you is his.”

“You know him?”

“Know him? I aided in his birth. I shared his home.”

“Then, you knew his mother and his father?”

“You know his mother.”

“Eve?”

“Yes.”

“And… his father?” Sheatiel shut her eyes as if bracing for a blow.

“It is a lengthy tale and a complicated one,” Rapha said. “But I will tell it if you like.”

When Sheatiel nodded, Rapha began. As the sun climbed high into the sky and then began to descend they remained, one unfolding the past while the other drank it in, the bitter as well as the sweet. When she smiled his heart soared. When she cried it eased the burden of his memories. It was only toward the end, when it was nearing the time she became part of the tale, that Sheatiel became silent, arms wrapped around her swollen belly.

When Rapha stopped speaking there was a moment’s silence, then Sheatiel was on her knees at his feet.

“You must help me! Give me the strength to end this! This ‘Cain’ will not rest until….” She wrapped the cord in his hands around her neck. “You are strong. It will be over quickly.”

Rapha knelt with her. Sheatiel’s eyes were shut tight but a tear escaped to trace a shining path down her cheek. He reached to brush it away and she flinched, her eyes flying open. “Please! Before I become weak.”

He removed the cord from her neck, “You are brave but the Holy One you met in the wilderness would ask you to be braver still. He preserved your life. Therefore I can do no less.”

“No. He gave me the sacrificial meal to prepare me for death.”

Rapha took her clenched fists in his hands. “That is not Adonai’s way. Evil demands death to prove devotion. Adonai asks more. He asks you to live your devotion. As for the babe in your womb, Adonai’s gift of life must never be taken lightly. He knew you before you were born. It is the same with your child.”

Touching her was connecting him to so many powerful emotions: fear and courage, love and hatred for the unborn, an artist’s sensitivity scarred by cruelty, self-hatred striving with God-breathed destiny, distrust of feelings, and now a deep trust for him.

Ah. Her affection for him had become deeper than her fear. In fact, when her hands touched his, she no longer wanted to die, she longed to live—she longed to… love.

He dropped her hands as if they burned him.

Rapha mumbled something more about Adonai and stood. The words made no sense. “Eve!” he called.

When he found the elder woman he told her of the child of her flesh in Sheatiel’s womb. He also instructed her to stay close to the cave at night. He would not be far away.

Why was he leaving? He needed to spy out the land. He would seek a mountain goat for milk. The ravens had news for him.

Lies.

Rapha ran.

He raced like a young Adam to the top of the mountain, running until sweat poured from his body and the heart of flesh pounded in his chest.

What good would it do to protect them from outside invasion if the greatest threat dwelt in him?


The cave at the top of the mountain was the setting of his greatest battle. He never slept, ate, or drank as the sun rose and set three times and his mind stormed with confusion. His flesh was betraying him; therefore he would slay it by neglect. He welcomed the suffering. It proved he could yet master it.

No celestials brought a comforting message. The Holy One who had absolved his guilt so long ago did not appear. Thus Rapha raged and cried out, even beating the rocky floor of the cave with his fists until it was stained with his blood.

Still nothing.

All was quiet except for a lark chirping on an overhanging branch, observing him with a bright eye.

Surely heaven had closed its ears to him, the fool who loved a human. For no other word could describe the feeling he had for Sheatiel. But this love was far different from what he felt for his angelic brothers or the fatherly affection he had for Adam and Eve. His passion for Sheatiel contained all those feelings and more. It was need and desire and tenderness for her presence as if she both completed and weakened him.

He had not been aware this emotion was possible since in his former life angels, at least those who remained faithful to Adonai, had no need of physical coupling. This issue had been Lucifer’s effective strategy in his war with heaven. He corrupted both earthly and celestial flesh by joining them—in direct rebellion of Adonai’s command. That perversion had been the demise of creation and Adonai’s heartbreak for time immemorial.

Rapha had no idea how long he wandered in his memories of grief, back to memories of Adonai’s perfection and peace on Earth; to the joyful manchild, Adam, with hopes as high as the heavens; beyond mortal understanding to a teasing, deadly ambitious angel, Lucifer, desiring to ascend to the very throne of Adonai; back even farther to the time before Earth’s remembrance, when celestial voices sang in perfect harmony, aiding The Most High in creating the wonders of the universe.

He was neither asleep nor awake, his mind and body losing their grasp on life, his soul hoping to leave behind the husk of flesh, when Adonai whispered to his heart, “Rapha, arise. Your battle is not complete. Trust My everlasting love. Your weakness is strength in My hands.”

How Rapha longed to drown in that voice. But no, he was more aware, second by second, of his aching body and his swollen tongue until, with a cry of disappointment, he opened his eyes to bloodstained cave walls. But a cleft in the rock before him held clear water. He drank it. When he sat up, he discovered he was not alone.

Lucifer stood at the cave entrance.

“Let me look at you, old friend,” he circled around Rapha tsk, tsking mournfully, “ooh! The years have not been kind!”

He stopped before Rapha’s glazed eyes and grimaced as he sniffed and put a hand to his nose. “My magnanimity amazes even me. I am prepared, for the sake of our long association, to forget our past differences and lift you out of this deplorable pit. I cannot bear that one of my noble brothers should be so,” he waved a hand toward Rapha as if words failed him, “disgraced.”

When Rapha remained silent, Lucifer squatted to eye level, an intoxicating perfume flowing from him. “Say the word. One word and I have the power to restore you. There is no need to be debased any longer. What good can you possibly accomplish devoid of power, devoid of dignity?” There was a sob in his voice.

But if there was one thing Rapha’s self-denial had accomplished it was a slaying of pride. The thought of beautiful raiment and power would be nothing but farce to one who felt less worthy of life than the bright-eyed bird who looked on from its customary branch.

“Go away,” Rapha rasped. “Those things mean nothing.”

“At least let me feed you!” With a wave of his hand, Lucifer produced a banquet between them. Rapha was assaulted by the scent of roasted meat and fruits bursting with sweetness. His mouth watered but he turned away.

“Oh come!” Lucifer exclaimed, grasping a chunk of meat and tearing into the moist, steaming flesh.

Rapha watched some of the pink juice run down Lucifer’s chin. “I thought you preferred it raw.”

Lucifer’s voice was so cold it chilled the air. “You despise my kindness when I could so easily destroy you.”

“Please. Do.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, it would be kindness to end this pathetic existence. But then you would remain… un-instructed.” He pronounced the word as if relishing its flavor as he continued to study Rapha, from his lank hair to the soles of his dirty feet.

“Something is different about you,” Lucifer finally stated.

Rapha felt the penetration. His thoughts were being invaded. Sheatiel’s face pushed to the fore but he forced himself to focus on the memory of Kal, pierced and rotting in the midday sun.

But he could not resist for long. Soon he heard Lucifer’s satisfied chuckle as the memory of Sheatiel, eyes shut in peaceful repose, a curl of dark hair draping across full lips, was wrested from his mind.

“Ah! You have excellent taste, old friend.” Lucifer’s hand was beneath Rapha’s chin. “Believe me. Cain has relished her… fruits. He is most eager to retrieve this bird who has flown.”

Lucifer sat back and sighed. “Ah, Rapha. My war is not with you. For the sake of our old friendship, I will give you the best of advice. You love this woman. It is all too simple. Join with her, take her as your wife, live a life of peace far from all this strife of war.”

Lucifer leaned in and whispered, his words sweet as honey in Rapha’s ears. “What did it do for the humans to mix with our flesh? It brought death. Death, Rapha! Imagine, you grow old, you die, you are freed! It is your way out. Become one with her. Reach out and take the joy before you.”

The images in Rapha’s mind made him weak with longing.

He was falling asleep with Sheatiel in his arms.

They were living a life of contentment and simplicity far from intrigues and violence.

Sheatiel was glancing up at him, joy in her eyes as she nursed his child.

His child.

“And what of my offspring?” Rapha whispered. “They would be part of your corruption, the way you have destroyed from the beginning. Adonai created perfection and harmony but you continue to corrupt. Why, after all this time, do you think I would be grafted into that vine? The war would continue in their flesh; earthly and celestial, incompatible from the beginning, burdening Adonai’s heart, hastening earth’s destruction yet again. They would further the tyranny, envy and strife you have unleashed.”

Again Lucifer sighed. “You take yourself too seriously, Rapha. You always have. The seed is sown. It will grow and spread. It cannot be stopped. The actions of one outcast from the heavens will be of no consequence. Besides, you have already been altered. What if you are compatible now?”

Rapha’s heart beat faster at those words.

“Who knows but that Adonai has opened this avenue to happiness—if you will reach out and take it.”

A wild hope flared in Rapha’s heart.

“Have you even asked? You’ve always had a special connection to the Most High. No reason for fear, eh?”

At that moment the raven landed at the mouth of Rapha’s cave. He flapped his wings and backed away when he saw Lucifer.

“Ah! News from below,” the fallen angel’s eyes glittered and a malicious smile spread on his face.

The bird fixed his gaze on Rapha. The message encoded there caused Rapha to jump to his feet.

“Alas! Adonai gives,” Lucifer chuckled, as Rapha raced from the cave, “and he takes away!”

“SHEATIEL!”

This time Rapha ran toward her. Lucifer’s delighted laughter echoed around him. It didn’t matter. Reason called. Rapha shoved it aside. Adonai’s one rule since the beginning of all things, to maintain purity—separate and distinct worlds between men and celestials—was tossed to the wind.

He loved. He felt passion beyond himself, beyond law. He would be by her side. He would fight. If he was destroyed, all the better.

As he raced down the mountain, oblivious to rocks against his bare feet, heart torn by this new madness, he sensed a surprising companion.

Adonai was in the madness. His presence was unmistakable.

“Now you begin to understand,” Adonai whispered to Rapha’s heart. “My love is beyond law, beyond barriers. What I have declared is established. What I have made pure is redeemed.”

It was a strange moment for clarity. What he felt toward Sheatiel was just a taste of the passion Adonai felt toward all creation. That passion consumed and defined and—Rapha gasped—forged a way through impossibilities.

Was Adonai endorsing his love for this woman? Would He somehow bring joy from what was forbidden?

For the second time in his existence, Rapha felt reformed. For the first time… ever… he felt the true human joy of discovery heightened by a sense of limitation, by a sense of—mortality.

Then he heard her cry. He raced toward the sound expecting at any moment to meet Lucifer’s murderous hordes—but no enemy confronted him.

Her voice came again on the wind, a terrified shriek. Surely only torture would cause such pain.

Nothing would stop him. If Adonai was with him what could stand against him?

So he stumbled upon his greatest fear—Eve’s tragic eyes, Shealtiel’s tortured cries—with the peace of heaven overflowing his being. The babe was emerging but it was destroying Sheatiel like an abandoned chrysalis. So Rapha set to work doing what he did best, to bring comfort and mend bodies. How he prayed as her blood flowed over his hands. How forcefully he spoke heavenly commands to ministering angels. How he worshiped Adonai and sang praises to the creator of all things even as he discovered her ruptured womb and the infant foot that protruded, blue in color.

He took the babe quickly, that abnormally large child who was, nevertheless, not ready to thrive outside the womb. And as his hands continued to press down, trying to stop the relentless draining of Sheatiel’s life, his tears blended with her blood.

He was failing.

There was no time to wonder why. There was no opportunity to scream at the heavens demanding intervention. He had only moments to love.

Sheatiel grasped his bloodied hand and placed it beneath her chin. For one eternal moment her eyes held his. What he saw there stilled his soul as she smiled with the radiant glow of perfect peace.

Finally she spoke. “Please, if you love me, do not try to keep me here.”

Rapha’s eyes widened in surprise.

“He told me of your love,” she said. “I would not have believed the words from anyone else.” Sheatiel smiled and squeezed Rapha’s hand. “He was with me through the night, through the pain. He promised you would join me one day—when your task is finished.”

Circumstances were unchanged but everything was transformed.

“He says the child is a gift to you. Through you this one, though intended for evil, will be grafted into holiness.” She choked with emotion and her tears flowed. “My life is redeemed,” she whispered and kissed the tips of Rapha’s fingers. “Eve?”

Eve stepped forward, the child in her arms, and Sheatiel said, “My son will be a comfort to you, filling your empty arms. I leave him in your keeping.” With that she reached for the baby with feeble arms and Eve laid it on her chest where the child turned its face, eager to suckle. Though quickly fading, Sheatiel said, “Take my strength, dear one. I no longer need it.”

The baby swallowed, its sounds of life filling the silence with hope as its eyes fixed on hers.

“Please name him Rapha,” Sheatiel whispered, “Teach him to be just like you.”

“Today I am his father,” Rapha sensed the affirmation of heaven in those words even as he felt himself attaching to her soul, sucking hungrily at its strength, needing that sustenance for survival as surely as the babe in her arms.

He placed a kiss on Sheatiel’s forehead and rested his head on her shoulder, breathing in the perfume of her skin and the pulsing life rising from the newborn’s still-wet head. He felt his heart tear loose as a lifetime of emotion broke over him.

Like rain on a desert, his tears opened her mind and invited him into that secret place, laying her naked soul before him without reserve, exposing every shame and wound without fear. He gasped at the depth of its treasures and pains, marveling at the palaces of riches and whole worlds of virgin lands, an entire universe of Adonai’s likeness embossed on each cell of her essence. And there, in a childlike nook of her heart, he discovered a need, an unspoken but desperate yearning. Rapha lifted his head to look in her eyes.

“I claim you as my life mate, my wife,” he whispered, and then paused to drink in her sigh of pleasure. “My heart and body are yours forever. We are one.”

“We are one,” she echoed and smiled.

Rapha prayed, speaking Adonai’s will in heavenly words until he could finally accept it.

A look of rapture dawned on Sheatiel’s face and she gasped with childish delight, “I have a family, a husband, a sister, a child. I am loved. It is all I ever wanted.” Then she laughed and the air sparkled with the beauty of her soul taking flight, and even the baby stopped suckling to gaze at her.

It was a moment of dazzling beauty Rapha tucked away in his soul. He felt Adonai’s kiss bestowed with the gift of her joy.

Sheatiel died as the babe suckled the last drops of life from her breast, his large, innocent eyes closing in contented slumber, one small fist tucked beneath his chin, mirroring his mother who still clutched Rapha’s blood-crusted hand.

Then, one more gift dripped from Adonai’s throne. A vision of what was, that very moment, taking place.

He saw Sheatiel, running with a shriek of delight to the Holy One who swung her into the air and spun until they both fell into a field of wildflowers, dizzy with joy, laughing in their delirium. Finally, with bits of vibrant petals in her hair, she looked toward Rapha. “You’re here!” and she ran to him, leaping into his arms and kissing him on the lips with an abandon reserved for children unacquainted with pain.

But Rapha was not there to stay. He knew if he remained longer he would be unable to return to his new son. Indeed the thought of leaving that place was already destroying him.

“I love you, Sheatiel,” he cupped a hand to her perfect cheek and kissed her lips, then walked with her toward the Holy One where he placed her hand in His.

Immediately he was dropped back into the dim world of blood and death where her cold hand yet clutched his and the babe slept at her breast, its steady breathing accompanied by the sound of Eve’s quiet weeping.

There Rapha remained, drinking deep of the peace and pain.

Adonai inhabited both.