by Bryan Davis
Bonnie touched the dress on top, a gorgeous white satin gown with a silk train. “It’s …” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s a wedding gown.”
Keeping his voice low, Enoch winked. “I had to wait for Billy to leave. Tradition says that a groom should not view the bride’s gown until the appropriate time.”
Bonnie kissed Enoch’s cheek. “Thank you so much!”
“And there is a fine suit here for Billy and proper attire for everyone. I’m sure you will find that they all fit perfectly. We have access to very accurate information inside Heaven’s Gate.”
Smiling, Bonnie ran her hand along the hefty load of clothing. “I see two more wedding gowns here. Who else—”
“They are all labeled, my dear.” Enoch began walking toward the edge of the garden. “You are all much too dirty, so I will carry these to the village. I will meet you at Abraham’s old hut when you’re ready.”
A surge of joy blended with a fountain of sadness, and both rushed through Bonnie’s mind and heart. As she surveyed the garden and adjoining field, scenes of life and death flooded her senses. Her mother and Billy’s father were again human—happy, healthy, and content. Billy and Walter hauled sick villagers to the garden to be cured in a bath of life-giving energy. Dikaios and Elam galloped back into the field, and Elam joined in with the helping hands. Listener’s father and Acacia lay dead, both a true blend of joy and sadness, and both precious portraits of the tragedy and victory of heroic sacrifice.
Tears flowing yet again, Bonnie heaved a sigh and marched toward the edge of the garden. With every step through the radiant soil, the sadness melted away, giving rise to fuller and fuller joy. Every tragedy, every moment of suffering, had led to life and peace, just as the suffering and death of her Lord Jesus had brought the same to every man, woman, and child on Earth who called upon his name.
She gave herself a firm nod. In this truth she could rest, knowing that the God of the universe had guided her and Billy every step of the way. And now, a final journey lay before her, a new adventure with her beloved, the young man who had proven his worth time and time again.
As Billy and Walter passed by with a patient on a stretcher, Bonnie smiled. Billy smiled back. Turning to the village again, she wrapped her arms around herself, holding the memory of that smile close. Yes, that wonderful man had proven his undying love, and their union would now come about by an act of the will, not a prophetic destiny. He was hers, and she was his, by choice. Could she scream that truth from the rooftops? Her heart felt like it was about to burst.
She unbuckled her sword belt, let it fall to the ground, and walked onto the field. The first step on the final path couldn’t come soon enough.
Dikaios and Ember trotted up to her, Listener riding on Ember’s back. “Would you like a ride?” Dikaios asked.
Bonnie grinned. “I think I could float back to the village, even without my wings.”
“I can see the joy in your eyes.” Dikaios bowed his head. “After the celebration, I will enter into Heaven to forever be with my master, so please do me this honor.”
Bonnie flapped her wings, rose into the air, and settled on Dikaios’s back. “The honor is all mine, great horse.” She looked at Enoch as he walked across the field. Even from the garden, she could see the wedding gown on top of his pile of clothes.
Smiling, she stroked Dikaios’s neck and cried out, “Let’s fly!”
Chapter 20
Till Death Do Us Part
Lush grass, ankle-high and as green as emeralds, now covered the birthing garden and its adjoining field. Only one flaw interrupted the verdant carpet, a rectangular mound of dirt, a grave for Dragon, formerly Goliath. Since he had expelled the Nephilim in the garden, everyone agreed that his body should be laid to rest here, though all knew that his spirit was now rejoicing somewhere beyond Heaven’s Gate.
Bonnie stood at the edge of the field and contemplated the recent events.
Just an hour ago, Enoch guided Bonnie back to Heaven’s Gate. A golden rope had appeared, parallel to the shimmering gate and extending out of sight to the right and left. He instructed her to cut it with her staurolite dagger, which he had found buried in her dirty uniform. When she did, the rope snapped and disappeared. The ground shook. Although the sky stayed clear, the air cooled, though not enough to bring a chill.
Enoch explained that cutting the rope separated the three realms, but he wouldn’t say what happened to Semiramis and Mardon, only that they would receive exactly what they deserved.
At that moment, thick green grass began to shoot up in the garden’s soil around Bonnie’s feet, replacing the burnt grass. Enoch went on to tell of several new birthing gardens that would be created so that Second Eden could be populated more rapidly as the inhabitants explored beyond the old boundaries and established new settlements.
Earlier, Thigocia and Legossi burned Yellinia outside the village, along with the bodies of the invaders. Billy and Walter buried Devin in an unmarked grave far from any footpath or water source. When they returned, they seemed stoic, lacking any joy at finally disposing of one of the darkest beings in all of human history.
“Let’s just forget about him,” Billy had said. “He’s not worth the energy to speak his name.” And he and Walter refused to tell anyone where they had buried him.
Following the village’s custom for fallen warriors, Elam and Valiant burned Flint’s body and buried his bones. Instead of the burial grounds outside the village, they created a small plot behind Abraham’s former hut. Valiant sang a beautiful song of lament that carried a theme of hope. No one knew the condition of Flint’s soul when he died, but the revival of his companion, his apparent change of heart, and his heroic sacrifice spoke volumes.
The two village chiefs also burned Cliffside’s body. Taking Emerald along, they interred Cliffside’s bones in the traditional burial grounds. Valiant’s song prophesied the coming of another Second Edener, a child who would learn the same rock-solid dedication to service and unshakable love of the smallest ones, the unborn lives in the garden. Emerald wept for quite some time, and Valiant stayed with her, both on their knees as they prayed for comfort.
Enoch himself had taken Acacia’s body through Heaven’s Gate, saying something about preparing a “Welcome Home” celebration for an Oracle of Fire. As the prophecy indicated, since Elam never returned to Earth with Acacia to search for Sapphira, Acacia’s life became chaff, a sacrifice of love on behalf of others.
Just before Enoch took her body, Elam asked about the prophecy.
“I don’t understand. When was I supposed to take Acacia to Earth?”
“When Billy took Acacia and Listener, you could have gone instead of Billy. If you had kept the prophetic words in mind, you might have realized that.”
Elam pointed at himself. “So is Acacia’s death my fault?”
“Of course not. Devin killed Acacia. You merely made a mistake. You had set your mind on training the troops. You did not intentionally disobey.”
“But what if I had paid attention? Would Acacia still be alive?”
“Yes, my son.” Enoch set a hand on Elam’s shoulder. “But Sapphira would have perished instead.”
“Sapphira? But how could—”
“Shhh …” Enoch stooped and picked up Acacia’s body. “I can tell you no more of things that might have happened. Rest assured that God is not angry about your choices. You came to a fork in your journey, and you chose the path that you thought would be most likely to please him. It is a heart of obedience that God cherishes, and yours burns with passion like few others.”
He turned toward the gate, and as he passed through a shining rift, Acacia’s body burst into flames. Then, they both disappeared.
Bonnie sighed. One tragedy in exchange for another.
She shook her head and tried to cast off the sorrow. Only tears of joy would be allowed for the rest of the day. After all, a great celebration was about to commence.
Before she had cut
the rope, in anticipation of the celebration, the youngest villagers had washed naked in the fountain. Enjoying the newfound warmth of their land, they scrubbed themselves and each other in perfect innocence. Their parents joined in, not caring that their wet, filthy clothes weighed them down. They made sure their toddlers exited the fountain clean from head to toe. Wearing broad smiles, it seemed that everyone was washing away the past—the conflicts, the deaths, and the sadness of days gone by.
Bonnie and the other Earth inhabitants had chosen to bathe in the private washrooms. Those buildings and half of the others survived the fire, but to the villagers, the losses seemed no more than broken jars. The huts were merely things, temporal and replaceable. They would share their dwellings and the labor of rebuilding what they had lost. Such was the loving character of these precious people.
Now, less than half a day after the climactic battle, Bonnie stood on the field that led to the birthing garden. A line of six bridesmaids and matrons assembled in front of her, temporarily shielding her from the groom who waited for her in front of Heaven’s Gate.
They walked ahead in time with the slow music of a trio of pipers playing near the edge of the garden. It seemed appropriate to stretch out the occasion. Her wedding gown felt so heavenly, why not let these moments last for hours? The satin, dazzling white and as soft as silk, brushed against her body from her bare feet to her neck. With Ashley at her left and Sapphira at her right, each also wearing a beautiful white gown, the sensation was like walking among angels in the clouds.
Karen and Naamah knew the hearts of the brides and designed the gowns accordingly. Although they bore many similarities—modest necklines, fully covered shoulders, long sleeves, and ankle-length skirts—the gowns displayed the individuality of each bride.
The lace that covered the bottom third of Ashley’s skirt lacked symmetry, but a closer inspection revealed a complex design within the delicate fabric, a tiny mural of scenes from her adventures—a miniature Apollo, a representation of Larry the supercomputer, and a portrait of her departed grandfather.
Sapphira’s lace bore images of flames sprouting from plants, scrolls from the museum, couples dancing with fountains of water spraying over their heads, and a blossom from the tree of life. As she pushed each foot forward, the sun seemed to make the flames come alive, the tongues sparkling with her every movement.
Bonnie looked down at her own dress. Of course, Karen and Naamah had cut holes in the back for her wings, but they had added something far more important. Although the satin was already brilliantly white, when the sun struck the bodice and skirt at the right angle, something still brighter gleamed—text stitched in silver thread, her song from Psalm 139. As she read the opening words, though it was upside down in her perspective, tears filled her eyes.
Whither shall I go from thy spirit?
Or whither shall I flee from thy presence?
If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there:
If I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.
Yes, whether living on Earth, visiting Heaven, trapped in Hell, or in the midst of battle in Second Eden, God had always been with her no matter what.
As they neared the garden, Bonnie peeked through the line of escorts. Billy stood in front of Heaven’s Gate, facing her and wearing a stunning white tuxedo, a jet-black sword belt, and a freshly polished scabbard with Excalibur sheathed within.
She smiled. With his hair brushed back, his handsome face clean and shaven, and his broad shoulders squared, he looked fine indeed. Oh, yes, very fine indeed.
To Billy’s right and Bonnie’s left, Walter stood ramrod straight, alternately folding and unfolding his arms. Also wearing a white tux, he kept his eyes focused on the ground, shifting his weight constantly, apparently too nervous to behold the lovely treasure he would soon receive.
Elam stood at Billy’s left, his hands folded at his waist. Also dressed in white, he moved from side to side, obviously trying to catch a glimpse of Sapphira behind the bridal party wall.
The villagers sat in the grass, as did the dragons and humans from Earth, all facing Heaven’s Gate, yet looking back at the approaching procession, every eye wide with anticipation.
Billy’s parents sat in the front row next to Bonnie’s, all four so close to Billy, he could have reached them with two steps and an outstretched arm. Makaidos and Thigocia sat on their haunches close to Walter, with Roxil behind them, all three wearing draconic smiles.
Bonnie also spotted Patrick and Ruth seated near Elam. Patrick still felt very close to Elam, though he was much younger. Watching over Elam, or Markus as he was called at the time, had made him feel like a father long before Shiloh was born.
When the bridal party arrived at the front edge of the garden, the escorts stopped. The pipers’ song faded, and, except for the cool breeze creating a gentle rustling of nearby trees, silence ensued.
Bonnie let her gaze drift from left to right along her line of escorts—Mantika, Tamara, Dallas, Shiloh, Listener, and a village girl about Listener’s age. The two Second Eden maidens began to sing, trilling words in an unfamiliar language. They had explained earlier that Abraham had written the song centuries ago at a time when they did not yet speak English, and it became their traditional wedding song. Of course, he later translated it, but to this day they still sang the first verse in the original language, and that was the cue for Bonnie, Ashley, and Sapphira to lower their bridal veils over their faces.
After the beautiful yet mysterious words ended, the three matrons on the left shifted into single file, and the girls on the right did the same, as if opening a gate to the brides they had veiled with their bodies.
Bonnie and her companions stepped through the gap. The villagers and Earth visitors rose to their feet, gazing in silence. Even the breeze fell to a hush.
All three grooms stared. Walter’s mouth dropped open. Tears streamed down Elam’s cheeks. Billy’s jaw quivered, and his fingers worked Excalibur’s hilt. With his gaze locked on Bonnie’s, he smiled.
Goose bumps covered Bonnie’s arms. That smile … that wonderful smile—content, satisfied, filled with joy that a great journey was over and a new one, perhaps even more exciting, was about to begin. And now, they would travel the new road together as husband and wife.
She returned his smile, hoping to reflect the same excitement, the same joy, a joy so overflowing she could barely keep from bouncing on her toes.
Listener stepped out from her line of maidens and stood directly in front of Bonnie. Now the processional would begin, Listener leading the way, singing the English version of this realm’s wedding song, altered slightly for the triple union of brides and grooms.
As she and the maidens proceeded, followed by the three matrons, Bonnie paused for a moment, took in a deep breath, and led the brides, stepping in time with the song’s gentle rhythm.
The brides are ready, sound the call,
With spotless virtue, virgins all;
Let pipers pipe and angels sing,
Let shouts resound and anthems ring.
Extend your hands, O grooms of light,
And be their noble, worthy knights;
With arms of holy strength embrace
Your brides with honor, love, and grace.
When the song ended, Bonnie took her place in front of Billy, facing him and Heaven’s Gate, though they didn’t yet touch, as was the Second Eden custom. Ashley stood in front of Walter, and Sapphira faced Elam.
Immediately to Bonnie’s right, Listener knelt and gazed at Billy with a broad smile. As Shiloh, the gap in her fingers still obvious, took a seat with Gabriel, and the village maiden sat with her parents, the crowd buzzed, some displaying questioning glances.
Tilting her head, Bonnie gave Billy a quizzical look. Why did Shiloh and the other girl do that? They were supposed to copy Listener’s pose, one kneeling in front of Walter and the other in front of Elam, virgin females to attend each of the couples, a Second Eden tradition.
Billy s
eemed to understand her silent question, but his expression said he didn’t have an answer. Obviously Shiloh and the other girl knew something the marrying couples didn’t. A surprise, maybe?
A bright vertical line appeared in Heaven’s Gate. As expected, Enoch stepped out. Instead of his usual tunic and breeches, he wore a multicolored cloak tied at the waist by a purple sash. With his white hair brushed neatly back, he appeared regal and holy, certainly looking like a man qualified by Heaven itself to perform the wedding ceremonies.
As Enoch lifted his hands, the crowd quieted. Speaking with a deep, resonant voice, he said, “I assume you are wondering why the young ladies have broken tradition and not taken their places as attendants.” He flashed a coy smile. “I made this agreement with them earlier, so they are following my instructions. Through special arrangement by the Majesty on High, we have two replacements, one whose purity is unquestioned and another whose virtue has been restored.”
He stepped away from the rift in the gate and looked at it expectantly. A young woman’s head came through the opening, her hair red and shining. As if frightened by what she might find, she set her foot down timidly on the garden’s soft turf and looked around, her eyes wide. When her body fully appeared, a shining aura surrounded her sky blue gown, making her look like a radiant angel.
Bonnie bit her lip. She wanted to squeal, “Karen!” but it wouldn’t be right. This was a moment reserved for Karen and Ashley.
Lifting a hand to her mouth, Ashley let out a gasp. As Karen’s gaze locked on her, Ashley’s knees buckled. Walter grasped her arm and held her up, his smile trembling. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s just Karen. She’s—”
Walter swallowed his words. Karen, every step touching the ground as if set there by a princess, glided toward him. She knelt at her position and looked up at him with sparkling eyes. With a voice like a strummed harp, she said, “She’s what, Walter?”
“She’s …” As he looked at Ashley, his jaw firmed. “She’s amazing!”
