The Book of Names

Micah sat on a bench at the Battery, facing toward Fort Sumter. Waves lapped rhythmically against the seawall 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 the water. The moss, hanging from massive trees that lined the pathways, swayed to the whisper of a breeze while the leaves rustled in response. Micah mused how much he loved spring 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 he had felt ever since he had misplaced the old book that he always kept near to him.

It had been four days since he'd last held his treasured book. He'd never been without it in his possession for so long, and he could not quite quell the anxiety that filled him as a result. It would not be long, however, before he would have the book back - or before she arrived with it. His hands itched at the thought of holding the book that had given so much meaning to his existence again. He couldn't help but think on the recent cycle of events that had propelled him to this precipitous moment. Even more so, he couldn't help but think on her and the reason their lives had intersected.

It had been another beautiful April day four days prior when he'd chosen to spend the afternoon at the Battery. As he had done so, preoccupied with 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, his gaze immediately gravitated to the woman whose red curls danced all about her shoulders, flying in the soft afternoon breeze. He scarce could take his eyes from her she was so lovely, striking and hypnotic even at a distance. Lithe and graceful in her movements, she reminded him of a ballerina. Quite animated as she spoke, her hands and body moved frequently to reflect the passion of her thoughts and the intent in her words. His interest, seldom piqued, was awakened. Inexplicably, he felt a strong draw beyond physical attraction and knew instinctively that she was special in many ways. After several minutes, the two women hugged goodbye, but the lovely redhead remained as the other woman left and turned her focus out across the sea's waves.

Micah looked down at his empty hands, which normally would have held his little book, and he tried to pinpoint why he had been so drawn to the woman, but it was as if he’s found her to be enchanting in all ways. A smile formed on his lips. Had she sprung from a fairy tale with her bewitching ways? Even from where he’d sat on the distant bench , he’d felt the power emitted by her distinct aura. 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, well, she more than snared it – she demanded his focused attention. She was like a beacon, beckoning him, and everything inside of him yearned to answer the call. Entranced, he had watched her for a long while. It had most likely been then that he had absent-mindedly placed the old book in his jacket's inside pocket - or so he had thought. Not realizing his mistake, he had then risen with a modicum of regret and headed home to the nearby carriage house. , carelessly leaving behind the book.

Once home, Micah had stretched upon the four-poster bed, and though he had left the woman behind, her allure still haunted him. With the sound of the fan repeatedly circling above , he had relaxed and welcomed the serenity of sleep, visions of dancing, redhaired fairies filling his dreams. As the twilight hour had approached, he'd awakened, immediately and instinctively aware something was amiss. Hurriedly reaching into his pocket, he had learned the book was not there. Fearing he'd left it on the bench, he'd headed back to the Battery only to find it was not there. Despite his best efforts, he had been unable to locate the precious antique book since that time.

Hoping beyond hope that someone had found the book and would be eager to claim a reward for doing so, Micah had posted an advertisement promising such for its safe return. The book was immeasurable in value, and he must have it back, so he had offered a $5,000 reward for its recovery. Waiting had been the hardest part, but after three long days, he had received the call. On the evening of the fourth day thereafter, a woman had called. She had the book and wanted to return it, insisting she did not need the promised reward and only wished to see the book reunited with its rightful owner. As he had listened to her soft voice, laced with a lilting Southern accent, he knew instinctively that she was the one who had captivated him so at the park four days prior. How interesting that she had found the precious book. He should have been surprised, but he was not. Instinctively, he understood that the universe was lining up precisely as it was meant to do, and that undoubtedly, more things had yet to be revealed. If he had learned anything over the long years, he'd learned that some such things were fated, pre-destined destinies. Such was life and its many diverse pathways.

Micah had thanked the woman for finding the book and calling to insure its return. He'd suggested they meet at the Battery the following afternoon at four o'clock. The woman agreed and again stated a reward was not necessary, however if he insisted, she would gladly donate the money to the local orphanage. While he listened to her, he was inherently aware that a multitude of questions filled her mind. No doubt remained that she had looked through the book's detailed notations. As to whether she would ask him about the entries, he was unsure, but he'd best be prepared to answer her questions. He knew that he must be direct and not evade the truth in any answers he gave. This woman was destined to know exactly what the names and notes inside the book meant and why they were there.

Micah looked at his watch yet again and realized it was nearly four o'clock. Because he had been so eager for the book's return, he'd been waiting for almost two hours. His senses were on high alert in his anticipation. He could smell the salt from the ocean, as well as the fragrance of blooming magnolias and other flowers while he listened to the chirping of birds. Unlike his last visit, there was a strength in the warm breeze this afternoon. Excitement coursed through him. The woman he was about to meet was someone uniquely special, but he'd known that from the moment he'd first laid eyes on her. Still, he now understood that just how special she was was soon to be disclosed.

Micah turned to see her approaching. Just as before, she made quite a striking figure, the afternoon sun reflecting streaks of gold in the mane of red hair flying loosely in the wind. So light was each step she took that she appeared to float along the pavement, her cotton dress swaying all about her slender silhouette. As he watched her approach, Micah nearly forgot to breathe; mesmerized, he could look at none other save her. Where previously he had been keenly aware of all sounds and smells that surrounded him, his senses were now encompassed by the woman quickly approaching. She consumed him in ways he'd previously thought not possible.

Micah had said he would be wearing a blue shirt and sitting on a bench directly in front of the gazebo at the park's center. He perched on the edge of his seat and then stood as it became obvious she had spotted him. Hesitantly, she smiled as she drew nearer, and once she stood before him, she extended her hand in greeting. As Micah took her hand, an overwhelming awareness of the woman filled him, stronger than his preformed impressions. Yes, he was sure of it. This woman was about to find out more than she had ever dared to imagine. A rare world was about to be exposed, filled with the unimaginable and ripe for her taking.

"Hello, Micah," she said, her voice lyrical and as gentle as the afternoon breeze. "I am Amelia Grace. It's nice to meet you."

He smiled as he felt the undeniable strength in her handshake. He would always think of her as simply Grace from this moment going forward. His smile broadened. Perhaps Amazing Grace would suit this redhaired fairy-like woman more perfectly.

"Hello and thank you for coming," he said, his hands eager for the old book that had become so much a part of his world. He eyed the woman. The warmth he had felt emanate from her small hand still resonated within him, and he could sense the myriad of questions that flooded her mind. His gaze drifted, and he saw she grasped the notebook with her free hand, clutching it closely against her side.

Micah reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Thank you so much for contacting me. As promised, enclosed you'll find a check for $5,000. Please accept this reward as the book's return is invaluable to me. I am more thankful than you know."

Despite the smile he gave her, Grace watched Micah with obvious skepticism before finally accepting the envelope. "Thank you. I am sure the children's orphanage will find a good use for this money, so on behalf of them, I thank you for your generosity.”

Amelia Grace looked down at her feet for a moment before lifting her intent green gaze to him again. Unsure of her next words, her wavering voice reflected the nervousness she felt. “I probably shouldn't have looked through your book, but honestly, it all began by attempting to learn who the book's owner was. I don’t want to pry, but I really have a few questions....that is, if you don't mind," she said.

Micah gave her a nod of acquiesce. This was not unexpected or a surprise in the least. "Of course," he said, feigning ignorance. "What would you like to know?" Truth was he was inordinately aware of what her questions would entail and what he must answer in response.

Amelia Grace hesitated, unsure exactly how to pose her questions or where to begin. She had been able to think of little else since she had found the book and read some of its entries. The old book was an odd compilation of names, dates, and events, and she was quite curious of its origin and the meaning behind the inscriptions. Some entries were so old that she was sure the man who stood before her could not have written them, since he was probably about thirty-five years in age at the most.

Intense curiosity overcoming her nerves, Grace began, "There are so many names entered in your book, with dates that go as far back as the Renaissance and earlier. Each name has details inscribed along with it that cite a specific chain of events. For example, there’s an excerpt entitled 'Beethoven'," she continued, carefully opening the antique book and began to read. Micah listened intently. "'Saved from suicide. Decided to dedicate his life to music, August 30, 1802'. And yet again, an even older entry is this one: 'Michelangelo Buonarroti. He has agreed to complete the Sistine Chapel; his initial misgivings are reconciled, January 3, 1508'." Amelia Grace's face reflected her confusion. "Indeed, there are so many names and events recorded in your little book, Micah, that I am thoroughly perplexed as to who would have known these things and who could have possibly written them down. They seem to be a real-time recording of some very old historical facts, but that can't be true, can it?”

Micah watched her closely and responded with a reassuring smile before he said, "Please, will you sit with me for a moment? I’ll attempt to explain as best I can." He gestured toward the bench. "May I call you Grace? You don't mind, do you? It seems to suit you perfectly."

Amelia Grace had not thought she could be more surprised, but nonetheless, she was. She nodded. No one had ever called her Grace besides her late Mother, who would sometimes add 'amazing' before the Grace. Was this her Mother's way of reassuring her that all was well? She was going to think of this man's request as a good omen. She already knew that she liked him even though she knew nothing about him beyond his possession of the antique book. A wealth of kindness and serenity seemed to radiate from his crystal blue eyes. Moreover, there was a profound sense of familiarity with him, as though she had known this man always.

As they took their seats on the bench, Micah turned and smiled reassuringly again. "It's a beautiful day, is it not, Grace? The breeze and water are so peaceful and alluring. Perhaps we should consider their loveliness as a prelude to predestined truths and revelations."

At first, Grace was bewildered by Micah's choice in words, but an unexpected peace suddenly filled her. She looked out across the ocean and nodded, understanding, without knowing why, the gravity of the next words he spoke.

Micah looked down at the book clasped in Grace's lap as he spoke. She had not yet thought to give it to him despite having accepted the reward. it was all well and good, however. "Please feel free to donate the money as you desire, Grace. I already know the children's orphanage needs a new furnace, so the money will be of great assistance to them." He looked up, unprepared for the depth of understanding that already resided in the depths of Grace's green eyes. He took a deep breath and continued, "The answers I am about to give you will reveal unexpected truths that will fill your mind, heart, and soul in unanticipated ways.” He watched the swift pulse beat in her throat in response to the words he spoke. “Are you prepared Grace? Prepared to open your mind to the unfathomable and inconceivable? To something you do not understand? To something unearthly and completely wonderful?"

Grace's interest reached out and touched him as though a palpable thing, and he saw the shiver that ran through her body. She quickly nodded. How interesting. He did not think she would already suspect what he was about to divulge, but now, he knew she did.

"I am a Nephilim, Grace, an immortal being created from the love shared between an angel and a human. Some might call me a fairy, a sprite, or a goblin. For centuries, I have traveled this earth and gone to those in need, offering intervention in moments of desperation or indecision. Some that I have helped were well-known historical figures as with Beethoven and Michelangelo, but others were more obscure individuals like your Great Grandmother, Friedricha Wessell. If you look, you will find her entry on page 448. The details noted by her name say, 'She changed her mind about killing the Nazi soldier who abused her at Dachau, chooses to forgive him and move forward, September 22, 1952'." Micah saw surprise register in Grace’s eyes at his revelation about her ancestor, but he also saw an acceptance of something she had long felt within her soul.

"A Nephilim?" she repeated, her voice soft. She was clearly intrigued. "A cross between an angel and a human with a mission to help others in moments of dire need?"

"Yes, that’s correct," Micah nodded his gaze all-knowing as he watched the dawning of newfound awareness in Grace. He glanced down at his book that she still firmly grasped. "Please, Grace, open the book," he urged. "Turn to the final page, 884. There you will find a new entry that was not there only moments ago."

Grace paused, digesting his words. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened the book, her shaking fingers turning the yellowed, creased pages until she reached the final entry, on page 884 just as Micah had said. The ink was fresh and bright. It was quite obviously a new inscription. She read aloud, her mind slowly absorbing each word. "'Amelia Grace Hughes, Has learned she is a Nephilim and will join forces with Micah to help others, June 8, 2023.'"

Grace finished reading and looked up to find Micah's smile had broadened, extending to his eyes and encompassing his face. A light seemed to surface from the depths of the blue eyes. He was assuredly the most beautiful being she had ever encountered - human or otherwise. He exuded a peace and kindness hitherto unknown by her. Moreover, he was even more beautiful because of the truths he had just revealed. Her life would never be the same, but she was so ready for the new path and this otherworldly man named Micah.

Micah's smile slightly diminished, and he grew serious of a sudden. "I knew from the first moment I touched your hand that you are like me, a Nephilim destined for more. Our worlds have collided, but I am only wondering why it took so long for them to do so. Nothing remains as it was, my dear Amazing Grace. You are my Yin, and I am your Yang. Together, we are complete in all for which we are predestined." The depth of his gaze and words reassured Grace. "We will have many adventures together, Grace, and do much good. There is still work to be done, so many to help. Are you ready for new endeavors and such a life changing turn of events?" he asked, extending his hand in invitation.

Grace smiled, a brilliant, happy smile. She took Micah's hand and immediately noted the warmth it embodied that matched the warmth of his eyes. She relinquished the little antique book, handing it to him with an eager, confident smile. "Indeed, Micah, I think I have been ready all my life for such work. When shall we begin?"