The Fall - By Chana Keefer

CHAPTER Nine

Sabotage



It was several hours later when Rapha sought Adam. The young man, like the young woman in her moment of crisis, had taken his frustration to Adonai and, once again, the Maker’s words had brought order from confusion. With the sun at its highest point in the sky, Adam perched in the trees, a bemused expression on his face. For a few moments after Rapha joined him, the boy was silent.

Rapha could not recall the last time he had been first to speak. Sensing the boy’s emotions, he broke the silence with the rhetorical question, “You are pleased with Adonai’s gift?”

Adam sputtered a moment as if he had lost the gift of speech. “All I could say was, ‘Thank you.’ I am so amazed by what Adonai has created, the joy that will be ours when she and I… when we are joined.” Adam paused. “I believe her rightful name is ‘Glory’ since that is what Adonai says she is. He said her well-being and joy are my glory. As I care for her in the same way Adonai cares for me, she will be like this well-tended garden, rewarding my life and offspring with sustenance, protection, and joy.”

Then Adam spread his arms wide as if to embrace all of creation. “She is my ‘Glory’!” he shouted to the heavens. “She is Adonai’s precious gift. As I honor her above all creation our joy shall be like the sun, rising in the sky until all are blessed by its light!”

Adam was so giddy he almost fell from his perch. He flailed and grabbed at the branch on which he sat to regain his balance and began to laugh. The young man’s joy was infectious. Soon Rapha too was laughing as Adam shook the entire tree with his mirth… nearly losing his balance once more.

“Perhaps her name should be ‘Wine’ since even the thought of her has intoxicated you,” Rapha teased, causing Adam’s laughter to explode once again. “Or ‘Hyena’ because she makes you sound like one of them.”

As they continued the mindless jests, tears streamed from Adam’s eyes and Rapha was swept with a hilarious drunkenness, the likes of which he had never experienced in his eons of existence. A glimpse of the power of mankind’s melding with Adonai pierced his consciousness. By discovering the Maker’s goodness like the petals of an unfolding flower, humans drank richly of each revealed aspect of His fathomless personality. In this way, ignorance was a blessing, like discovering treasures around every corner. Rapha understood Adonai’s immense power, love and holiness—had understood for time immemorial—but when was the last time he had been drunk with joy about it?

But even in this moment, Rapha felt Lucifer’s piercing gaze upon him. Lucifer’s jealousy was a choking vapor paralyzing his mind even as Adam’s joy made his soul take flight. Rapha felt his being would be ripped in two by the warring emotions.

A malicious chuckle filled his heart and Lucifer’s unbidden message accosted his mind. “Timing, old friend. That’s all. Simple timing.”


The young woman moved with swift strokes through clear turquoise depths. How she treasured the quiet, pre-dawn moments when she could melt into the water and flow with the swishings, flutterings and murmurings of a gently waking world. Adam still slept. Again he had conversed with Adonai late into the evening, long after she had succumbed to slumber.

The conversations with their Maker were always fascinating. He had a way of making the complex and confusing simple. Often she and Adam would cry out something like, “Oh! I understand…” or, “Of course! Why didn’t I see that?” as He opened their minds and wove truth from the rough fibers of their knowledge.

Her reaction to this knowledge differed from Adam’s. While discovery would excite the boy and cause him to beg for more, she would sit back and ponder, turning the wisdom this way and that in her mind, taking what was revealed and polishing it until, a few moments later, she broke her silence with a provocative question.

Just last evening when she had brought up her discoveries about the tree roots, that they will continue to dig until they reach water, Adonai had pointed to the largest tree on their mountain, the very one she and Adam had climbed with Rapha. He had described the years of patient growth that had taken those mighty roots through solid rock until, if they cut away the face of the mountain, they would be able to follow those stubborn tendrils down into the mountain’s very core. “No mere wind or rushing water will topple it. In fact, its roots reach even deeper and wider into the ground than the branches reach into the sky.”

Adam had talked about the long skinny birches and the fat berry bushes, asking if their roots resembled what was seen. As Adonai explained how each tree and bush balanced underground what was needed above, the girl’s mind had developed a wrinkle right down its center. Adam, noticing her silence, had teased her, “Don’t worry, Glory. You can start digging first thing in the morning. The roots will wait.”

But she had locked eyes with her Maker, almost afraid of the outcome of her thoughts. “Do the trees outside this garden, those that have to dig deeper for water, have deeper roots?”

“That is the natural way of things, is it not?” He had answered.

It was just enough to encourage her to venture forward, “You have often compared us, me and Adam, to a tender young tree You nurture and protect.”

Adonai had nodded.

“You have also said the trees have to get stronger before they can bear the fruit that feeds many.”

In that tense moment, it had seemed to her all creation, even Adonai, leaned in to hear her conclusion. The bold adventurer in her stood ready to beat a path through uncharted trails, but there was also a pampered princess, a side of herself she had never acknowledged, who wanted to shut her eyes to truth.

Glory’s next words were almost a whisper. “But what of a tree that has constant water and never leans into a fierce wind and is… protected from all harm?” Her eyes were fixed on her clenched hands. “Would that tree be strong or would its roots be shallow?”

She had gazed into those all-knowing eyes and found the painful answer. She had begun to weep. In her short, glorious life she had known no pain or lack, yet now she felt, through those eyes, a connection with bitter grief. Glory had drawn as close to Adonai as possible and buried her face in His chest. She had no idea how long she remained, feeling like her heavy heart was exiting through her eyes. Eventually she had become aware that Adam was weeping on the Master’s other side. Adam also understood. She and Adam were that tree. Their roots had to be strong, digging down into unshakeable rock, to fulfill their destiny. They had known nothing but joy and laughter. What was this grief flowing through them from Adonai? Was He warning them? Preparing them?

But Glory had felt ushered into a much deeper knowledge of their Maker and therefore she could not regret the pain. Nestling in His side and sharing the emotions of His heart made the moment not just bearable but beautiful.


Rapha was attuned to Glory as he entered the garden’s workshop, the sweet fragrance of grapevines and flowering vines greeting him as he brought out the golden crowns, the same crowns that had sealed their betrothal and would now grace their shining heads as they were wed. He had only to set the gems that would glitter like colorful stars as Adam and Glory stood before the garden’s inhabitants and the attending celestial hosts. He had arrived early to his post, eager to complete preparations. As soon as Adam woke, Rapha would share the good news with them—“Today is the day!”—but for now he would let the young man sleep and allow the young woman, Glory, her moment of tranquility and privacy.

Glory’s emotions at the moment were a bit befuddled—she was both sad and fulfilled—but she still flowed with Adonai’s presence, numbed yet enlivened as she marveled anew at colors, sounds, and fragrances that were present yesterday but overnight had gained intensity and loveliness. Rapha would not delve beyond that sense of her basic emotions. If there was a new revelation she chose to share with him, he wanted to hear it from her lips. He had discovered he enjoyed surprises.

Rapha had only observed the conversation last evening. Adonai had shut the angel’s inner senses to the young people; certain things should be kept between the Maker and His children. Thus the angel had retreated to the circle of celestial hosts awaiting their Lord’s will, while something miraculous occurred. Rapha’s senses might have been blocked but his eyes were not. The beauty of the two humans melting into Adonai’s being was breathtaking.

In those eternal moments, a paradigm shift had occurred. Rapha could not pinpoint exactly what had changed; he could only identify its effects. There was crystal clarity to the atmosphere that put him on high alert, yet it seemed born of acceptance, like heated gold that cools and conforms to the Master’s plan. He had returned at the appointed time to the celestial court to bask in his Maker’s love, his heart overflowing with gratitude for Earth’s bright future and the perfection of Adonai’s plan.


Glory dove deep, loving the caress of peaceful waters that soothed her muscles and renewed her overextended senses. Crying was a new sensation, cleansing yet exhausting, and deep recesses of her body ached with fulfillment and melancholy that escaped her understanding. However, she was at peace, like a rite of passage had been completed. Or was it just beginning? Regardless, Glory felt less… young than she had yesterday morning. But it was more than worth it. She would treasure those timeless moments with their Maker forever. Whatever it had cost was paid back in dazzling proportions.

She finished her swim and sat for a moment in the arc of waterfall where the cascade was gentle. From a little shelf behind the curtain of water she brought forth the covered stone bowls of toiletries Rapha had taught her to concoct. Their clean fragrance as she set aside stone lids and applied combinations of the garden’s fruits and oils to her skin and hair were like a concentrated day in Eden, fresh and freeing, teeming with the best Adonai and Earth had to offer.

A swim to her favorite sunning rock rinsed away the excess. Glory then dried Rapha-style by lying in the sun’s early-morning rays, the glow which always emanated from her body, warming, covering, and protecting her like a diaphanous raiment as she fingered her long curls into place. Beside her, a slender tree flourished, spreading its canopy of scarlet blossoms overhead, its decorative bower a gift from Adam who had coaxed the branches to lean over her favorite perch. Her thoughts turned the young man’s way accompanied by nervous flutterings in her stomach. Somehow, drawing nearer to Adonai had deepened her attachment to Adam as well. She recalled one of their early lessons where Rapha had illustrated how a third point added above the two points of a line created a triangle. Glory saw their relationship with Adonai that way. Moving closer to their Maker also heightened intimacy with her intended and gave a new dimension of substance to their relationship. She recalled the feeling of falling asleep last night cradled in Adonai’s arms with her fingers entwined in Adam’s. He had pressed her palm to his lips, unashamed of moistening them with his tears.

Knowing it would make him smile, she chose one perfect scarlet bloom and secured it in her curls.


The metaphors rolled as Rapha continued his work on the crowns that symbolized the humans’ destiny. When they were joined physically, their offspring would be the first fruits of Adonai’s new order, a people to shine in His hand, lighting the darkness like stars on a moonless night.

“The sooner the better,” Rapha mumbled, recalling the devastation outside these walls as he selected the centerpiece of Adam’s crown—a large, flawless diamond. He held it in place as he wove golden strands around the circlet, tamping the metal to affix the gem. He would continue this process, tapping, stretching, and molding until the crown would be ablaze with flawless stones.

As he worked he considered the effort required to complete even one of the precious gems.

The largest of diamonds, the central diadem, had been with Rapha during his burial by Lucifer and his fellow traitors. With the last of his physical strength he had reached toward the glow, wresting it from solid rock, and cupped it to his breast even as he had felt his own being tucked into Adonai. When he had woken, the gem was still in his hand. He had broken away the remaining dullness and carefully polished the diamond, treasuring it as a promise of hope during his darkest hour. He could think of no more fitting treasure to grace the brow of the promised one who would restore creation to its Maker.

As for the gold, the intense heating and purifying process had seemed endless. But he was creating a treasure to last millennia, not a bauble; therefore he had punished the precious substance until purity alone remained.

His tiny hammer stopped mid-swing. The Holy One was speaking to his heart.

“Rapha. Do you see?”

Yes. Adam and Glory were the treasure. Earth had been swept clean, purified, in order to bring them forth. They were the diadem, purified by Adonai’s loving hand.

An icy fear capsized his thoughts. No! He clapped his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to waylay the hideous train of thought, too harsh to bear. With a tremendous force of will he shoved down the growing dread and focused on one question, “When?”

He tried to convince himself that the pounding and purifying process was far off in the future, perhaps a trial that distant generations would have to endure in order to help renew their commitment to Adonai. But the unwelcome answer inserted into his soul was no comfort.


Sheep, water fowl, and a myriad supply of four and two-legged creatures gathered at the water’s edge, tokens of a waking garden, as the girl poured water into a depression on the rock’s surface and studied her reflection. She smoothed a stubborn curl behind one ear but, as if possessing a will of its own, it soon reasserted itself, poking out at an awkward angle. Finally, she repositioned the flower directly on that troublesome area and gave a satisfied nod. A brilliant blue and green bird she and Adam had dubbed “Strut” hopped up beside her, a bright yellow tuft waving above his inquisitive black eyes. She reached for its head, gently stroking the golden protrusion to make it lie flat. “I can fix that.”

Glory giggled as he shook his head free and then… strutted… as if to say, “But the chicks love it!”

A snowy white lamb trotted forward, requesting its customary morning audience. She scooped it into her lap, nuzzling her face into its silky wool as it bleated with contentment. Of all the animals in the garden this one held a special place in her heart. It could not climb like the monkeys, or roar to shake the ground, or fly, or dazzle with any exceptional talent, but it would relax in her arms, not demanding food or belly rubs or even a romp, and gaze at her with trusting eyes, content simply to breathe in her presence.

Glory loved all the animals and enjoyed their chatter, rambunctious play, and antics, but this one was her special pet—so much so that Adam had decided she alone should determine its name. Grace. That was what she called the sweet friend who had no special talents to speak of but could soothe her mind with its quiet snuggles.

Bathed in sunshine with the lamb’s squeezable warmth nestled in her arms, she thought again of the precious hours with her Maker when questions ceased, preparations for their destiny halted, and only that moment mattered. It was better than the joy of laughing, playing, eating, or learning all rolled into one. And last night, getting to share such closeness with Adonai and Adam had been the most beautiful experience of all. In fact, she would not have been surprised if she had been able to fly like the angels, since she could not imagine feeling any more “malleable” than the way her heart had melted.

What an amazing unity the three of them shared! Together with Adonai, they were to rule creation, bringing a new start and fresh hope to the whole world. But there was still so much to learn. They had only scratched the surface of the angels’ knowledge and, although she and Adam were eager enough, Glory could not imagine how long it would take them to prepare for the task.

The lamb, Grace, broke her reverie with a calm bleat.

She looked down at the lamb and laughed, “It’s easy enough for you. All you’re concerned about is which patch of grass to chew next!”

As Grace held her gaze she saw something flicker in the innocent depths of its eyes, some knowledge or instinct that surpassed her own wisdom as if to say, “We are together. What else matters?”

A mournful whimper sounded from behind her and she turned to see a tiny monkey holding up a crushed front paw. Bright crimson drops fell to the grass at his feet. The girl stared in horror. She had seen blood, she had even experienced pain but she had never beheld terror.

“Come here, baby.” She held out a hand but it backed away, eyes wide and wary. That was another first. She set aside the lamb, “What happened?” As she took a step closer the creature hissed at her, baring sharp teeth. The next moment it appeared penitent as it licked its abused limb. That did it. She had to try to help. When the monkey took off through the trees, she was hard pressed to keep it in sight.


Rapha had been so distracted by the alarming turn of his thoughts; he had relaxed his focus on Glory. He probed carefully, expecting to discover tranquility but was dismayed to encounter confusion. He wanted to assure himself her emotion was fleeting and harmless, but something about the subtlety and timing felt all too familiar. The sky was just as blue, the trees still waved in the breeze, but something. Was. Wrong. He bolted from his work, taking no notice of the clatter of precious gems across the hewn stones. This present unrest bore Lucifer’s signature. As he raced toward Glory’s bathing pool he summoned the angelic hosts. The response was sluggish. Something was hindering their communication. This was the moment, just as the sun peeked over the edge of the world, that signaled the changing of the guard. Fresh celestial forces were indeed arriving, so why did his summons not bring their ready response?

Rapha emerged from the arched shelter of the garden’s workshop just as he heard it… or rather did not hear. The birds. Their songs had stopped. Then came one, harsh “skrawk!”

A buzzard? Here?

He crashed into the clearing where Adam still reclined under the flower-canopied bower of standing stones. “Has Glory returned?” Rapha tried to keep his voice steady but the boy must have read something in his demeanor.

“Why? What’s going on?”

Without a word, Rapha turned to make his way toward the bathing pool. The urgency in his heart made him desire to fly but Glory’s trail would be easier to locate and follow on the ground. Even so Adam, still wiping sleep from his eyes, had to scramble to keep up with the angel’s long stride.

They broke through the thick foliage surrounding the pool to a tranquil scene, but not her. There was something in the air, something besides the girl’s bathing oils, something that brought horrific memories to mind—a faint but unmistakable metallic smell, a smell that settled on his tongue with the memories of swords coated with its slick stickiness—a smell accompanied by the scents of fear and cruelty. Rapha’s concern escalated to panic.

Just then an angry roar erupted from the lioness at the water’s edge as her mate shook his mane and charged. The two fell to the ground, claws and teeth bared. This was not a moment of passion. Adam ran toward the enraged pair to break up the fight but the lions turned on him, snarling and roaring. What had gotten into them? Rapha materialized between them with a flash of light and the startled pair ran away.

The smell was overpowering where the lions had been. Rapha looked down. There were drops of fresh blood on the grass at his feet. He knelt to pluck a crimson-stained blade and, with trembling fingers, held it up to a shaft of light. For Rapha, all sound ceased. The disturbed rhythm of nature and the anxious breathing of the young man at his side were outside his universe as he studied the bright red against green, delving deep into its molecular structure. With a rush he retreated from the tunnel of his sight with a sigh of relief. What the scent had hinted, his sight confirmed; this blood was not human.

Adam’s questions came in a torrent. “What’s going on? What is that? Blood?” Then the young man was reaching to grasp his shoulders, “Rapha! Where is she?”

“Come.” The angel shook off Adam’s hand and ran, chasing the mingled scent of fragrant oils, fresh blood, and fear.