by Bryan Davis
Another woman, raven-haired and petite, stepped through the rift in Heaven’s Gate, wearing a gown every bit as blue and shining as Karen’s. Even more timid, she glanced around as if wondering if she would be unwelcome. When her gaze fixed on Elam, she bowed her head.
“Who is that?” Bonnie whispered to Billy.
“I remember Elam’s description. She has to be Naamah.”
Bonnie mouthed her name. Naamah. Sapphira had told stories about her evil mistress, Morgan’s seductive minion. After all she had done, how had she gone to Heaven? What would Sapphira think about this wicked woman kneeling in the place of a virtuous attendant? What did Elam think?
Keeping her head low, Naamah took short, quick steps to her spot in front of Elam and knelt. Sapphira looked at him, her expression asking the questions Bonnie had already raised in her mind.
Suddenly, Heaven’s Gate flashed. The transparent wall grew opaque, and a grassy meadow took shape. A woman with dark hair knelt in the field, her body so low she seemed curled in a trembling ball. As she shook, a song emerged, a lament that drifted across the wedding party like a gentle wind.
O who will wash the stains I bear
The harlot’s mark of sin I wear?
Exposed and shorn of all I prized,
And now I beg for mercy’s eyes.
O Jesus, look upon my strife
And spare this foolish harlot’s life.
I bow, surrender, pour my tears;
Forgive my sins and draw me near.
The scene shifted abruptly. Elam stood at the crest of a rise looking out over the expanse. Naamah, wearing an oversized cloak, stared at her hand, standing, waiting, hoping. Elam extended his own hand, grass-stained and bloodied.
She ran to him and dropped to her knees. Grabbing his hand, she kissed his palm, her tears flowing. “You won’t regret this, Elam,” she said. “I promise, you won’t regret your mercy.”
He pulled her to her feet and spoke softly. “To be wanted and not lusted for. To be loved and not pitied. To be asked and not commanded.” He pushed his hand through her tangled hair, then slipped it into hers, touching their palms together. “Is that right?”
As Naamah’s cheeks flushed, she smiled. “And to be believed, even after all my lies.”
The scene faded away, and the gate reverted to transparency. Sapphira leaned over and took Naamah’s hands. Letting out a little gasp, Naamah looked up at Sapphira and allowed her to raise her to her feet.
Bonnie bit her lip again, trying not to cry. The sight was such a contrast! Although both women stood no taller than five feet, they seemed like giants, one with snowy white hair, pure and undefiled, the other with the shadow of Morgan hanging over her, a raven dressing her locks with memories of darkness, torture, and abuse. Did Naamah’s mocking songs still ring in Sapphira’s ears? Did the whip and briar nettles still sting like angry hornets up and down her back? Could Sapphira forget all the years of humiliation she suffered at the hands of this servant to a sorceress?
Sapphira lowered herself to her knees and looked up at Naamah. “Will you forgive me?” Sapphira asked.
Naamah’s chest heaved. Tears streamed. She swallowed and choked out her words. “Me? Forgive you? I … I don’t understand. I need you to forgive me.”
Sapphira kissed Naamah’s fingers. “I hated you for centuries. I cursed your name both in whispers and shouts. I wanted you to die.” Her voice pitched higher. “But then I watched Bonnie Silver. Even though her father treated her with contempt over and over again, she never cursed his name. She never stopped loving him, even after he betrayed her mother and caused her death as well as Bonnie’s suffering in foster homes. And when he asked for forgiveness, she gave it, showing the kind of love I needed to learn.”
Bonnie looked at her father and gave him an “I love you” sign with her fingers. He returned the sign, his eyes glistening. Her mother took his hand and clenched it tightly, nodding at Bonnie with trembling lips.
“So,” Sapphira continued, “that’s why I ask you to forgive me. Because of Bonnie, I learned about the same Jesus you sang about, and that’s when my hatred for you just melted away. But I have ached for your forgiveness ever since, and now that you’re here …” She kissed Naamah’s hand again and looked up at her. “Will you please forgive me?”
“Oh, yes! Yes!” Naamah pulled Sapphira to her feet and wrapped her arms around the white-haired bride. “And please do not withhold your forgiveness. My wickedness toward you was not in response to anything evil you did. It sprouted from the depths of my black soul.”
“And now your soul is clean,” Sapphira said. “As white as snow.”
They kissed each other’s cheeks, smearing the tear tracks. Naamah withdrew a handkerchief from her dress and dabbed Sapphira’s face. “Enoch said I would probably need this,” Naamah said. “He was right.”
Enoch clapped his hands. “Now if everyone will take your places …”
Her smile as broad as an ocean, Naamah knelt at Sapphira’s right, glancing back and forth between her and Elam.
Bonnie’s father stood at her left. Makaidos shuffled forward and sat next to Ashley. The fathers of two brides were now ready to give away their daughters.
Bonnie looked at Sapphira. She had no father, no one to give her away. They had already wept together, knowing she would need a surrogate, but the one she chose certainly stood head and shoulders above any father. Yereq, dressed in a tailored Earth-style suit, walked up and took his place at her side. Being a brother, of sorts, spawned from the same genetic code and the same soil as her own origin, surely he had the right to offer her to the groom.
Smiling, she reached up and held his hand, barely able to wrap her fingers around three of his.
Heaven’s Gate shimmered. Now, instead of a window to the other side of the garden, it became a window to another world. Dozens of people lined up on the other side, watching the ceremony.
Bonnie let her gaze linger on each face. She spotted Acacia, Dorian, Brogan, Joseph of Arimathea, and many other souls who had passed away during her many adventures, a band of heavenly witnesses who would be watching over all of them for years to come. She tried to find Professor Hamilton, but with people lined up at least five deep, he was probably hidden from sight.
“Now,” Enoch said, “in order to make sure each union receives its proper recognition, we will perform the ceremonies one at a time.”
Bonnie grinned. Enoch didn’t mention the fact that the best-man situation made it impossible to perform all three at once, but that would become obvious very soon.
Enoch walked to Walter’s side. “You seemed surprised to see Karen,” Enoch said.
“Shocked would be a better word. I didn’t know you could just pop out of Heaven and into Second Eden like that.”
“Well, be prepared for another shock. Now that some of the portals have been restored, I sent a certain pair of couriers to collect other special guests from the cave in the Valley of Shadows.” Enoch lifted a hand to his ear. “And if those are hoofbeats, they are right on time.”
Everyone turned toward the village. Dikaios and Ember trotted across the field, Dikaios carrying Walter’s parents, Carl and Catherine Foley, and Ember carrying Shelly, Walter’s sister. All three were dressed in sharp riding outfits. When they arrived, the three Foleys took places in the front row, Carl using a cane to walk. Catherine blew Walter a kiss as she sat down.
Walter grinned and gave them a thumbs-up. “About time you got here!”
When the laughter subsided and Billy took his place at Walter’s side as his best man, Enoch looked over Ashley’s shoulder at the sea of onlookers. “Who gives this maiden to be wed to this warrior?”
Makaidos nodded at Thigocia, then at Enoch as he laid a wing over Ashley. “Her mother and I do.”
Enoch bowed. “So be it.”
Ashley pressed her veiled cheek against Makaidos’s. “Thank you …” She paused, her voice spiking. “Daddy.”
She threw her a
rms around his scaly neck and pulled him close, but only for a moment. When he took his place with Thigocia, Enoch folded his hands at his waist. “Since only one of you has dragon blood, we will proceed with the traditional vows of humans in your culture.”
After reciting the vows, saying “I do,” and exchanging rings Enoch provided, exquisite gold rings from Heaven’s forge, Walter and Ashley knelt in front of Enoch.
He laid a hand on each head. “Seeing that you have made this commitment to one another in the sight of God and these witnesses, by the authority vested in me as a prophet of the Most High God, I now pronounce you husband and wife, or as the Second Eden residents say, ‘Adam and Eve.’”
He gestured for them to rise and nodded at Walter. “You may now kiss your bride.”
Walter lifted Ashley’s veil with both hands. Karen smoothed the veil out behind Ashley’s hair, another Second Eden custom. He paused, staring at her lovely face as if hypnotized. Finally, Ashley laid a hand behind his head, pulled him close, and kissed him, a tender lip caress that lingered for several seconds.
Laughing, Enoch turned the couple around and announced to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, dragons and dragonesses, I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Walter Foley.”
“All right, Walter!” Billy shouted, clapping his hands. “You’re a married man!”
Walter pointed at him. “You’re coming up, buddy!”
“Indeed.” Enoch waved for Ashley and Walter to sit with their parents. As he walked toward Elam and Sapphira, he passed Bonnie, whispering as he breezed by. “You are radiant, my dear.”
Warmth rushing into her cheeks, Bonnie smiled. Having that wise old prophet performing their ceremony would be wonderful. He was so gentle and kind.
With Patrick as best man, Enoch performed a similar ceremony for Elam and Sapphira. When he asked them to repeat the vows, they spoke in Hebrew. Looking into each other’s eyes, Elam pressed his left hand against Sapphira’s right. Their fingers didn’t wiggle. That expression of longing for togetherness had ended. Now they had come together, their union as husband and wife only seconds away.
After Enoch repeated his pronouncement, declaring them a wedded couple, he turned them toward the audience and said, “These two have waited thousands of years for this blessed day. When the final ceremony is complete, we will have a celebratory feast to end all others.”
Everyone rose to their feet and cheered, most clapping while a few children leaped into the air.
“Now,” Enoch continued, turning to Elam, “you may kiss your bride.”
Elam pushed Sapphira’s veil up and paused for a moment while Naamah smoothed it out. Then, without another second’s hesitation, he kissed Sapphira, keeping his hand pressed against hers.
Standing on tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around him. A faint glow coated her body, and a ripple of flames ran from her head to her toes.
Elam pulled back and gazed at her. Sapphira’s eyes sparkled with a more radiant blue than ever. They both smiled, the two most beautiful smiles Bonnie had ever seen—pure joy, simply pure joy.
From under his robe, Enoch withdrew a journal and gave it to Elam. “A friend of Sapphira’s and Bonnie’s asked that I restore this to its owner. She said to tell you that ‘The Maid’ will pray for you both for as long as you live.”
Elam and Sapphira caressed the journal’s worn cover, their faces beaming. After they sat with Patrick and Ruth, Enoch turned toward Billy and Bonnie. Bonnie stiffened. Now it was their turn. Would Enoch have any surprises for them? Visitors from Earth? Other special guests?
As soon as Walter took his place as Billy’s best man, Enoch stood in front of them, his arms crossed and his expression somber. “I am afraid, my two wonderful anthrozils, that I will be unable to perform your ceremony.”
Billy drew his head back. “What? Why?”
“The Majesty on High has forbidden it, and someone has been chosen to take my place.”
Enoch stepped aside and joined Elam and Sapphira in the audience. The wall to Heaven split vertically again, and a tall, lanky man strode out. Dressed in a multicolored robe similar to Enoch’s, an aura shimmered around his body. He bowed, mussing his silvery white hair. “Greetings, my friends.”
Bonnie could barely breathe. Now it was her turn to shout out the name of their surprise visitor, but she couldn’t get her tongue to move.
Billy spoke his name for her. “Professor Hamilton?”
The professor smiled and dipped again. “William, Miss Silver, I am delighted to see you.”
Bonnie ached to embrace him, but would it be proper? He was a heavenly being, not the familiar teacher of years gone by.
As a tear slipped down the professor’s cheek, he stretched out his arms. “Come, my three friends. I cannot hold back my affection any longer.”
Billy, Bonnie, and Walter eased into his embrace. Bonnie laid her head against the professor’s shoulder, but in the warmth and joy of his presence, no tears emerged, only the bliss of feeling those wonderful arms again and hearing his lovely voice.
After releasing them, Walter backed away, and the professor gestured for Billy and Bonnie to turn. When they looked out upon the audience, still standing in response to the previous wedding, he spoke with power. “These are the witnesses to your coming union, and since you both have dragon blood, we will create a covenant veil.”
The professor nodded at Walter. “If you would be so kind, Mr. Foley, please split them into two groups with an equal number of dragons and humans on each side.”
“You got it!”
While Walter waved for everyone to get together, and Ashley helped him count and separate them into two groups, the professor reached for Listener’s hand. “Are you ready to lead them through, my dear?”
Listener nodded. “Should I just do what you said in my dream?”
“Exactly.”
Smiling, she reached up and lifted Bonnie’s veil. “To pass through the covenant,” Listener said, “all other veils must be removed, for your soul is laid bare through your unfiltered eyes.”
When everyone assembled, Bonnie’s parents on the left, Billy’s on the right, and a host of others evenly divided on either side, Professor Hamilton again lifted his voice. “When I say the vows, I want everyone to repeat them by speaking through the gap in between the groups.”
The people and dragons on each side faced each other. When the rustling stopped, the professor spoke again, now with a more powerful voice than ever. “I, Billy Bannister, do take thee, Bonnie Silver, to be my wedded wife.”
With a joyous outburst of voices—men, women, children, and dragons—the words rocked across the garden in both directions. The gap in between the groups sparkled and began to glow, creating an arching aura. It looked like a shimmering membrane, thin and brilliant, nearly as tall as Yereq and wide enough for two people to pass through.
The professor finished Billy’s vows as well as Bonnie’s, waiting between each phrase for the witnesses to repeat them. With every utterance, the aura grew brighter, stronger. When the final words sounded forth, the arch pulsed with white energy.
He nodded at Listener. “Now, dear child, you may lead them through.”
She stepped in front of Billy and Bonnie. “Each of you lay a hand on my shoulder,” she said quietly.
As soon as they complied, Listener marched slowly forward, in step with the cadence of the professor’s voice.
“The covenant veil is established, and the bride and groom will be able to pass through only if the words of the vows are true in their hearts. They, too, will speak them as they walk, fulfilling the human tradition.”
Bonnie let the words pour from her lips. “I, Bonnie Silver, take thee, Billy Bannister, to be my wedded husband.”
Billy echoed with his vows. “I, Billy Bannister, take thee, Bonnie Silver, to be my wedded wife.”
As they spoke the final phrases, they reached the energy field. Not even slowing down, Listener led them into its light. Taking Billy’s hand
, Bonnie looked at him as they finished their vows together with “Till death do us part.” They passed through—easily, as if gliding through a silk curtain. The radiance tickled Bonnie’s skin, forcing her to smile.
When they emerged on the other side, Bonnie blinked. Billy stood at her side, gazing at her as they held hands.
The veil dissipated. A fountain sprang up in its place. Shooting seven streams high into the air, it sprayed a fine mist over everyone within a few paces. While most of the crowd moved away from the water, Sapphira and Elam held hands and stayed under the mist, allowing the tiny droplets to dress their hair and clothes in sparkling raiment.
The professor waved for everyone to gather around in a circle. “William. Bonnie. I have desired to do this for a long time.” Setting his hands on their shoulders, he turned them toward each other. “By the authority vested in me as an emissary of Heaven, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
He paused. Bonnie looked at him, noting the gleam in his eye as he winked. When would he say those final, wonderful words?
Smiling, the professor took a deep breath and spoke with clarity and passion. “William, I will now dispense with formalities and call you by the name your bride cherishes.” He paused again, his smile broadening. “Billy Bannister, you may now kiss your bride.”
Billy set his hands on Bonnie’s cheeks. Tears welling, making his hazel eyes sparkle, he drew close. Then, Billy and Bonnie kissed, a slow, satisfying kiss—soft, tender lips touching for the first time.
A shiver ran down Bonnie’s spine. All the dangers, pain, deaths, and sorrows melted away. All the waiting, prayers, and lonely vigils had been worth it. She was now the virgin bride, spotless, unspoiled, and pure for her warrior husband, a noble knight, equally unblemished and holy.
When their lips parted, Professor Hamilton turned the newly married couple toward their parents. As Walter, Ashley, Elam, and Sapphira looked on, the professor called out, “I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Billy Bannister!”
Epilogue
Carrying Bonnie’s lunch in a paper sack, as well as a stack of about fifteen envelopes, Billy hurried along the hospital corridor. He had left Bonnie in her room too long, having told her he would return in less than an hour. But Walter had stopped by his house with an important message, and Larry kept interrupting their conversation with updated communications from Second Eden. Establishing an open, cross-dimensional channel had worked out great most of the time, but Listener had a habit of reporting every event in Second Eden, no matter how trivial.
