A Book of Names

Micah sat on a bench facing the Battery and looked out on the ocean waves lapping against the seawall and fencing barricades that had stood for well over a century. The ocean was like glass this April day, with only the faintest of wind rippling across it. The peaceful moss swayed from the massive oak trees that lined the park in response to the whisper of the wind, their leaves lightly rustling. He mused how much he loved April in Charleston with its mild weather and abundance of blooming azaleas, magnolias, and dogwoods. All of these things, when combined, lent a calmness that betrayed the anxiousness Micah had felt ever since he had lost his little black notebook four days before. He had never been without the book in his possession for so long, and he could not quell the questions and fear that filled him as a result. It would not be long, however, before he would have the book back in his hands - or before she arrived with it. His hands itched as he waited at the thought of holding his little black book of names again, and he pondered the recent turn of events that that had led him to this precipitous moment in time.

Four days prior, it had also been a warm April day, and he had chosen to sit on this very same bench that lazy afternoon. As he had done so, preoccupied with his thoughts as to what the future might hold, he had caught sight of two women strolling the high stone precipice before him. Of the two, he immediately noticed the woman with beautiful, long red hair that flew about her in the soft breeze. He could scarce take his eyes off her; she was lovely and striking, even from a distance. Graceful in each of her movements, she reminded him of an agile ballet dancer. Quite animated as she spoke, she moved her hands and body to reflect the passion of her thoughts and words. His interest, seldom piqued, was thus as he continued to watch her. Inexplicably, he felt the strong pull and knew instinctively that she was quite special in ways unseen by the superficial. After several lapsed minutes, the two women hugged one another goodbye, but the redheaded one remained and turned to look out upon the ocean as her friend left.

Continuing to watch her, he tried to pinpoint precisely what it was about her that had so captured his interest. With the train of his thoughts preoccupied in such a way, Micah had absent-mindedly placed the little black notebook in the inside of his jacket’s pocket - or so he had thought. Even from where he sat on the distant bench, he could feel the beauty and the power her soul emitted. She was undoubtedly endearing, strong, and intelligent. In all his travels, he had never paused long enough to acquaint himself with anyone who had truly snared his interest. Nevertheless, this woman, she more than snared it – she demanded and encompassed his full attention. Something about her beckoned him, and everything within him yearned to answer the call. Entranced, he watched her for long a long while. Eventually, he rose, sighing with regret, and headed home to his small, rented carriage house apartment that was nearby.

Once home, he had stretched out to lay upon the four-poster bed, and though he had left the woman behind, the allure he would felt for her still haunted him. Relaxing, he had welcomed the serenity of his thoughts and fallen asleep moments later, redheaded, dancing sirens filling his dreams. As the twilight hour approached, he had awakened and immediately realized something was amiss. Reaching into his pocket for his black notebook, he had found it was not there. Fearing he had left it on the bench at the Battery, he had rushed back to the park. It was useless. He had been unable to locate the book anywhere in the vicinity despite his best attempts. It was then realization had dawned on him: while he had been so preoccupied with the redheaded woman, he had accidentally missed placing the book his pocket.

Knowing the importance of the little black notebook, he had immediately posted an ad, offering a $5,000 reward for any news of its whereabouts or its recovery. He had waited, albeit impatiently, for four days before someone had called; a woman had the book and wanted to return it to him. She insisted she did not want the reward and only wished to return the book to its rightful owner. As he had listened to her soft voice, laced with a lilting, sweet Southern accent, he knew instinctively that the call was from the one who had captured his attention at the park. How interesting that it had been she who had found the book. He was not surprised by the knowledge that the caller was she - it was just as it was supposed to be. He was undoubtedly sure that this turn of events was most assuredly fated.

He thanked her for the call and asked that she meet him at the Battery the following afternoon at four o'clock. She told him that she was anxious to return the book and again stated that a reward was not necessary, but if he insisted, she would gladly donate the money to a needy organization. As he spoke briefly with her over the phone, he instinctively knew the multitude of questions that filled her mind. There was no doubt of it - she had read the book. As to whether she would question him about its contents, he was not sure, but he had to be prepared to answer any questions she might pose, and he must answer them truthfully. His instincts raged with the knowledge that she was supposed to know exactly what the names inside the book represented.

It was that day at last, the day of their meeting, and he would soon have the book back where it belonged with him. Excitement filled him at the prospect of the book’s return but also at the thought of meeting her, but he sat quietly, attempting to be patient as he waited. Looking at his watch, he realized it was nearly four o'clock and that he had been waiting at the part, seated on the same bench, since two o’clock. His senses were on high alert as he waited for the book - and for her. He could smell the salt of the ocean and the fragrance of the blooming flowers as he heard the birds singing. There was the strength of warm breeze hanging in the air this April afternoon. Excitement filled him. He knew that the woman he was about to meet was very special. Moreover, he was sure that just how special was about to be disclosed very shortly.

He turned to see her approaching. In the heat of the day, so gentle were her steps that she appeared to float along the pavement, her lightly printed cotton dress swaying all about her in the afternoon breeze. He watched, thoroughly transfixed with each step she took, and he could look nowhere else but at her. Where previously he had been aware of all the sounds and smells that surrounded him, his sole attention now focused upon her. She was consuming in every way possible.

He had told her that he would be wearing a pale blue shirt and seated on the bench directly in front of the gazebo in the park's center that faced the ocean, and it was obvious that she had spotted him. She hesitantly smiled as she drew nearer, and once she stood before him, she extended her hand warmly in greeting. As he stood and took the slim hand within his own, a new, overwhelming awareness of the woman who stood before him filled him anew, even stronger than his initial impressions. He was sure now of what he suspected, and he knew she was about to find out more than she had ever dared to imagine. A new world was soon to be hers for the taking.

"Hello," she said her soft voice lyrically sweet and as gentle as the April breeze. "I am Amelia Grace."

He smiled as he felt the strength in her gentle, yet firm handshake. He would always think of her as simply Grace from this moment forward, and smiled even more so as he mused that 'Amazing Grace' suited her even more so.

"Hello. My name is Micah," he replied. He sensed the myriad of questions that flooded her mind as he felt the warmth of her small hand within his own. She firmly grasped the notebook with her free hand, clutching it closely against her chest.

Micah reached into his the pocket of his jacket and pulled out an envelope that he gave to her. "Thank you for contacting me. As promised, here is a check for $5,000. I must insist you accept it as the book is invaluable to me. I am thankful more than you shall ever know for its return."

Grace eyed him a bit skeptically before she accepted the money. "I will gladly accept your check on behalf of the local women’s shelter. I know they will be most appreciative of your generosity.” She looked down at her feet a moment before she lifted her green gaze to his again and added, “Please, I don’t mean to pry, but might I ask you a few questions about the book? While looking through it to learn to whom it belonged, I read some things. I would very much like to ask you some questions about what I read, if you don't mind."

Yes, he was expecting this; it was not at all a surprise. He nodded. "Of course. You may ask any questions.. What would you like to know?" he asked innocently, although he was already inordinately aware of what her questions would entail and what he would say in response.

She hesitated, unsure precisely where to begin. She had an abundance of questions and could think of little else since she had found the book. The book was an odd compilation of names, dates, and events, and she was quite curious as to its origin and the meaning of the inscriptions.

Unsure of herself, Grace hesitantly began, "There are so many names listed in your book, with dates that go as far back as the Renaissance – or even earlier. In addition, each listing – or each name - has a detailed event noted beside it. For example, there’s an excerpt entitled Beethoven," she continued as he listened intently, already keenly aware what words would issue forth from her mouth. Grace carefully opened the book to a page she had marked and began to read, "'Saved from suicide, dedicating his life to his music, August 30, 1802.' Again, yet another older listing in the book titled Michelangelo: Has agreed to complete the Sistine Chapel, initial misgivings are reconciled, January 3, 1508'. And that's just two of some very well-known names," she added. "Indeed, Micah, there are so many names and events recorded in your little black notebook. Whatever do all these names and notations mean?" Her face reflected further confusion before she added, “They nearly seem to be a real-time recording of history in some fashion, and yet, they can’t be, can they?”

Micah watched her carefully before he said, "Please, will you sit with me for a moment? I’ll attempt to explain," He gestured toward the bench as he watched Grace with a new and intense interest. "May I call you Grace?"

A bit surprised, she nodded nonetheless. No one had ever called her 'Grace' with the exception of her Mother, who had been dead for many long years. She was going to think of this as a good omen. She was already keenly aware that she liked this man named Micah even though she knew absolutely nothing about him. A depth of goodness and serenity seemed to radiate from his beautiful, crystal blue eyes. Moreover, there was a sense of familiarity as though she had known him always even though she had only just met him.

As they took their seats on the bench, Micah turned to her. "It's a beautiful day, is it not, Grace? The breeze and water are so serene. Perhaps their loveliness this day is a prelude to truth and revelations?"

A little perplexed by his choice of words, Grace nodded as an unexpected peace seemed to fill her as he spoke.

Micah continued. "Please feel free to donate the reward money as you desire, Grace. I am sure that it will prove to be very helpful for the women’s shelter. Regardless, I will still answer the questions that fill your mind – and perhaps fill your soul,” he smiled as he watched her closely and saw the swift intake of her breath with his words. “However, please tell me this: are you prepared to open your mind to the inconceivable? To something you do not understand. To something that may seem unearthly to you?"

She eyed him with skepticism, but then she nodded affirmatively. He did not miss the shiver that coursed through her body as she did so. She already suspects what I am going to say, he thought.

"I am a Nephilim, Grace. Do you know what a Nephilim is?” When she shook her head, he continued, “I am an immortal being that has been created from the love shared betwixt an angel and a human. Some might call me a fairy of sorts," he smiled. "For centuries, I have traveled this earth and gone to those in need, offering intervention in moments of desperation or indecision. Some I have helped were well-known individuals, such as Beethoven and Michelangelo, but others were more obscure identities, such as Fredericka Hermenia Wessell that you will find noted on page 448. If you read the inscription by her name, it will say, 'Changed her mind about killing the Nazi soldier who tortured her at Dachau, forgives him instead, September 22, 1952'." Micah saw surprise register in Grace’s green eyes, but he also saw something more: an acceptance of something she had long suspected - something she inherently felt deep within her soul.

"A Nephilim?" she repeated, her voice soft. "A cross between an angel and a human? And your mission is to help others in their time of need?"

"Yes, that’s correct," Micah nodded his vivid blue gaze all-knowing as he watched the dawning of awareness in Grace’s eyes. He glanced down at the black notebook she still held firmly within her grasp. "Please, Grace, open the book," he said quietly. "Kindly turn to page 684. You’ll see there is a new entry in the book."

Grace paused and stared at him for a long moment, curiosity evident in her green eyes. Eventually, she opened the book, her slim fingers carefully turning the yellowed, creased pages until she reached the final entry on page 684. There, on the page, in brown ink was freshly inscribed, 'Amelia Grace Hughes, learns she is a Nephilim, joins Micah to help those in need, June 8, 2021.'

Her eyes full of wonder, Grace looked up to find a broad smile had spread across Micah's handsome face, and a light seemed to surface from the intensity in his blue eyes. He was undoubtedly the most beautiful being she had ever encountered in all her days. Truth, peace, and kindness seemed to emanate from every part of him. Moreover, he was even more beautiful than she had initially thought because of what he had just revealed to her.

Micah's face grew serious as he continued to gage her reaction. "I knew from the first moment I touched your hand that you are just like me, a Nephilim who is destined for so much more. From this moment forward, our worlds have collided, and we are as one and coexist. Nothing remains as it was, my dear Grace. You are my Yin, and I, your Yang. We complete one another in all we are predestined to do."

The depth of his words reassured her as he continued. "We will pursue many adventures together, Grace. There is still so much to do and so many people to help. Do you think that you are ready for such an life changing and important undertaking?" Micah asked, extending his hand to her in invitation.

Grace smiled and looked at Micah's hand before she reached to eagerly accept it, immediately noting the warmth his hand embodied, as well as the feelings of power and serenity within its strong hold. When she finally looked up at him, she relinquished the little black notebook, handing it to him with a confident smile. "Indeed. I think I have been ready for this moment all my life, Micah. Shall we begin?"