The Caleb Collection

by Ted Dekker

  “You’re saying that if I really believed, I would show the kind of power I did as a child?”

  “No, no.” Hadane lifted a finger and wagged it. “The kingdom of God is not about what we see with these eyes. It’s not about eating or drinking or walking or throwing away the crutches. Those can be good gifts, like wealth and prosperity. But they touch only the surface and they are quite incidental. His kingdom is about peace and joy and love and a kind of power that will turn your heart into a herd of thundering horses if you let it.”

  It could just as easily have been Dada sitting here, teaching him. None of this was new—it was simply new to his grown mind. What he had once taken for granted as a child now sounded profound.

  “What has happened to me, Father Hadane?”

  “You must remember that the spiritual life is first of all life. It is something to be lived. But like all other life it, too, can grow sick and die when uprooted from its proper element. Perhaps you have been uprooted.”

  “I’ve been in a spiritual element . . .” He stopped, knowing again what his father would say. Hadane said it.

  “Living in a monastery or a church or a desert hardly counts as walking in the kingdom.”

  Caleb hung his head, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

  “You have come here to rediscover your place in the kingdom, Caleb. It’s a struggle for most men to even believe in the kingdom, and when they do, they spend their years hobbling along, confused about what they really believe. Like a man who looks in the mirror and walks away forgetting what he looks like. But you . . .”

  Hadane took a settling breath. “You are destined to run, my friend.” He chuckled, and then suddenly caught himself, as if he’d bitten his tongue.

  “Oh my, my! Oh, dear God!”

  Caleb looked up. Hadane stared at him with wide eyes, mouth open. He clutched his chest. “Oh my, my, my!” The old man closed his eyes. “You are going to run, my boy.” He looked at Caleb again, stunned. “Oh my, my.” He jumped to his feet and paced a few times before turning back to Caleb.

  “You must find your faith, my dear boy! Normally I would tell you to spend a year on your knees, walk a thousand kilometers of desert. But you don’t need a thousand kilometers. You need to walk the fifty centimeters between your mind and your heart. You must recover the faith of a child.”

  It occurred to Caleb that he’d stopped breathing.

  Hadane rushed up and knelt before him. He gripped Caleb by both shoulders. “You will run, boy! Do you hear what I’m saying? Like Elijah, down from the mountain. You will run through the kingdom, if you yield. So you must! He must be allowed to sweep you off your feet! Do you understand?”

  Caleb nodded.

  Hadane shook him once. “No, I’m not sure you do understand.” He spoke urgently now and Caleb started to cry. “This is beyond you. You must enthrall your mind with God. You have no idea of the breathtaking power that awaits you there.”

  Hadane stood and backed off. He spread his arms wide. “You want to know how to rediscover the kind of belief you once had, as a child? Enthrall your mind with a ravishing vision of God. Find the pearl, Caleb. Waste your life for the treasure—this extravagant love for Christ. Swim in his ocean and breathe his water.” Hadane chuckled and twirled around once. “And then . . . then, my sweet child, you will run.” He spun again. “Run like the wind through his kingdom.” He chuckled and bent to make a point. “You, my dear boy, will be fortunate to survive the herd of horses that stampedes through your heart.” Then he spun away, laughing.

  Time seemed to fall still. Caleb had no idea what the old man meant, other than the simple demand that he surrender to this whirlwind even now sucking at his heart. It was an old axiom, spun with new colors. Desire and surrender and believe, as Dada used to say. The words were breathtaking and terrifying, and he knew then that he would either run in the kingdom or die in this desert.

  “I will,” he said. It came out very soft.

  He lifted his chin, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I will waste my life for Christ.”

  He opened his eyes. “I will run. I will swim in his ocean, I swear it!” he said through gritted teeth.

  But the tent was empty. Father Hadane had left him.

  20

  Rebecca hid her guns in the rocks, changed into a tunic she’d brought from the monastery, and led her camel into camp.

  It was almost dark when she approached the first tent, the one Caleb had sat beside, talking to the young woman. They had led Caleb into one of the other tents over an hour ago, and he hadn’t emerged as far as she’d seen. He was her main objective, of course, but the young woman would be her first.

  The children were the first to see her, and they ran through the camp, thrilled at her approach. Okay, Rebecca, you are the distraught traveler, remember. You are eager for nothing but water and a place to lay your head. You are now a woman first and a soldier second. Or not a soldier at all, not until you have Caleb alone. Then you are Delilah.

  Miriam came out of her tent and saw her. The children ran up and led her, skipping and arguing over who should hold the camel’s bridle. They approached Miriam.

  Rebecca offered a beleaguered smile. “Dear God, thank you! You have no idea how good it is to see another human being. Do you have water?”

  Miriam nodded cautiously. “As much as you need. Where have you come from?”

  “I was separated from my party yesterday. We’re surveying the Danakil on contract. Do you have a radio?” She knew they wouldn’t, of course. But any sane person would want to be rejoined with their party immediately, and the radio was the only form of communication out here. They certainly wouldn’t have a satellite phone.

  “I’m sorry, but a radio’s useless to us. Where’s your party now?”

  “If I knew, I’d be with them. Back there somewhere. I think I understand why Nesbitt called his book about this desert Hellhole of Creation. This heat is obscene,” Rebecca said, shaking her head.

  Miriam looked at her with a raised brow. “I haven’t read the book. But not everyone who walks this desert finds hell.”

  She turned to one of the children. “Take the camel to the water, Daniel.” She reached a hand out to Rebecca. “My name is Miriam, and I welcome you to our tribe. We may not be able to reunite you with your party, but we gladly offer food and shelter to all who come our way.” She smiled, but it wasn’t an entirely genuine smile, Rebecca thought. Miriam was not an idiot, and she might be wondering how a light-skinned woman had wandered this far into the desert, in spite of the survey story.

  “Thank you. And God bless you.” Rebecca dipped her head. “My name is Rebecca. I’m a Jewish archaeologist on loan to the University of Michigan.”

  “Hmm. I’ve never been there.” They came to what Rebecca presumed was Miriam’s tent. “You may stay with me tonight. Father Hadane will know what we should do in the morning.”

  “Father Hadane?” The name took Rebecca off guard. The old blind rabbi, Raphael Hadane, had spoken of his brother, a Joseph Hadane, who lived in the desert. Surely . . .

  “Yes. Our leader.”

  “What’s his name?”

  Miriam looked at her. “I’ve just told you. Father Hadane.”

  “But the rest of his name.”

  “Father Joseph Hadane. You have heard of him?”

  “Maybe. I knew a rabbi once. His name was Raphael Hadane and he was also from Ethiopia.” She shrugged, covering her interest. “Probably a coincidence.”

  “Raphael is Father Hadane’s brother! He will be thrilled to hear of this!”

  “Really! Your Father is a Falasha Jew?”

  “He was. But we follow the way of the Messiah now.”

  “You are Jews who wait for the Messiah? Out here in this godforsaken desert?”

  “No, we are Jews who swim in the Messiah’s love. This is our ocean. Come.”

  Christians.

  Miriam turned and led Rebecca towards the main camp. “We will f
ind you some water and food. The others will be glad to meet you. And if you like, you may join us in our evening dance. It will begin after dark.”

  After several introductions to other members of the tribe, Rebecca washed two days of dust from her body and combed her hair in Miriam’s tent. Her host might suspect that there was more to her story, but it didn’t interfere with her hospitality. She even offered Rebecca some perfume, a gift which came from a Hungarian traveler two years ago. Miriam evidently wore it very rarely.

  She learned of the tribe’s strange customs. Miriam was actually considered a monk here—she’d taken simple vows including celibacy. She seemed delighted by the prospect.

  “I will leave you now,” Miriam said. “My tent is yours. Do as you please.” She smiled kindly and was gone.

  Rebecca smoothed the clean tunic Miriam had given her to wear. The smell of lilacs lingered in the air. For the first time since leaving Jerusalem, nearly a week ago now, she felt like a woman.

  Far away her father was pacing, no doubt. They would be worried because she’d missed her morning, noon, and evening contacts. Short of sending helicopters, they could hardly search for her. They would be forced to wait the three days previously agreed to.

  Zakkai would probably be digging by now, she thought. It wasn’t like him to sit idly. He would find some corner to chip away at, to keep his mind occupied if nothing else.

  Meanwhile she had stumbled into Rabbi Hadane’s brother, of all people! One more confirmation of the blind man’s story. All the more reason to proceed very carefully. Caleb had fled the monastery and struggled across a blistering desert to find these monks. These robed Jews who thought that they swam in the Messiah’s love. This tribe led by Hadane, the very one who had first told his brother, Raphael, that the Ark was in the Debra Damarro. There was more here than met the eye.

  Rebecca set the brush down and took a deep breath. “I do believe we are onto something, Father. Maybe we will find the Ark after all.” It was time to do what she’d come to do. Dear God, give me strength.

  She skirted the long row of tents in the dark, looking for Caleb. Three small fires burned in the night and most of the tribe had gathered to eat around them. But not Caleb.

  Her heart beat steadily. Ease up, Rebecca. You’re going to seduce a man, not face a mob of Palestinians. You’re acting like a child.

  Seduce? I am not going to seduce a man. I’m simply going to talk to a man. I’m going to trick him into telling me what he knows.

  And that’s not seducing? You will seduce him.

  She peered around a tent, three down from the one he’d been led into. Surely he wasn’t still in . . .

  “Good evening.”

  She spun. It was one of the older monks. Elijah.

  “Rebecca, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  He held his hands behind his back and wore a wide smile. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Miriam tells me that you’re interested in the Messiah.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Very good, my dear!” He dipped his head and turned to leave. “I will pray that you find him.”

  She stood, watching him walk towards the fire. Another misguided Jew.

  Rebecca hurried around the tent and made her way down the line, but she still saw no sign of Caleb. She rounded the last tent and was about to head back when she heard the mumbling to her right, from the dark.

  She pulled back. Caleb suddenly walked by, in full color, not two meters away. How she’d missed him, she had no clue, but he was here now, walking with purpose in his long robe, arms spread at his sides, mumbling at the sky.

  She had watched him for hours through the binoculars, but now, seeing him so close, she was surprised by both the strength in his arms and the beauty in his face. A handsome man who was pacing like a fool, talking to the sky.

  Rebecca’s heart hammered in her chest. She couldn’t step out now—he’d think she’d been spying on him.

  Caleb walked past, then suddenly reversed direction and paced back behind the tent, out of sight. She could step out now and . . .

  He was back again! Marching in the sand as if to make a point. And then suddenly he turned and walked straight between the tents, towards her. She had no choice now.

  Rebecca looked towards the fire, away from Caleb, and stepped out casually, as if unaware of him. He nearly ran into her.

  “Oh!” She stepped back, feigning surprise. “I’m sorry.”

  Caleb stopped. He stared at her with wide green eyes and she wasn’t sure if he even saw her.

  “Hello,” he said. He suddenly glanced around, as if unsure of where he was. He started to turn.

  “I didn’t expect anyone back here,” she said. “I don’t recognize you.” She held out her hand. “I’m Rebecca.”

  Caleb turned back and took her hand. “Hello, Rebecca.”

  She held his fingers, surprised at their warmth. “And your name?”

  “My name? My name is Caleb.” They stood holding hands.

  She had to keep him talking. “Caleb. Are you new to the tribe?”

  “No. I’m old to the tribe. But I’ve been lost.”

  “Lost? Yes, me as well. I was separated from my group yesterday and somehow I ended up here.” She smiled. “It’s good to meet someone who isn’t a monk.” She chuckled deliberately.

  Rebecca wasn’t even sure if Caleb had heard her. He was looking at her, but his gaze seemed distant. They were still holding hands and she suddenly felt foolish for it.

  She dropped his hand and cleared her throat. “You’re old to the tribe? What does that mean?”

  “It means that I used to believe like they believe,” he said. “It means that I used to swim deep in this ocean of love as well, but I became accustomed to the dry land, and now I have this crazy notion that breathing underwater is impossible.”

  For a moment they locked eyes and she thought she might have been chasing a madman. He spun and strode away, robe trailing at his heels.

  “Wait!” She hurried after him and slowed by his side. “Do you mind if I walk with you? I feel strange with them.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Sure.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know.” He looked at her sideways. “Do you want to breathe underwater?”

  The discussion wasn’t remotely like any she had imagined. “I . . . I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about. I walked through the desert and it nearly cooked me. A good swim might be nice.”

  He stopped and put his hand on her arm. “I’m not talking about splashing around a pond. I’m talking about free-falling into an ocean of love and sucking it in. That’s the kind of water I’m talking about. When that kind of water is in your lungs you can’t help believing, can you?” He paused. “Do you believe in that kind of love?”

  She blinked, aware of his hand on her arm. Think, Rebecca. Remember why you are here. Take control of the conversation. Be Delilah.

  “Yes, I believe in love. I’m a woman; all women believe in love. Have you ever loved a woman?”

  Caleb hesitated, searching her eyes, then released her and walked on. “I don’t need the love of a woman. I’m after a true lover. And to find him I think I might have to die.”

  Caleb halted, tilted his head up and flung his hands out to the starry sky. “Take me, Father!” he cried to the stars.

  Rebecca started. He was indeed losing his mind out here in the heat.

  Caleb spun to her, his eyes brilliant with the distant fire’s reflection. “You should seek his love, Rebecca. We all should. We’ll never find a treasure like God. I should know. Do you know why I should know?”

  “No.”

  “Because there was a time when I could walk in his presence as if it was another world, right here around us. And it is! There’s another world right here, waiting to be opened. An ocean tempting us to dive in. The kingdom of God is here, Rebecca!” He pounded his chest three times. “It’s here.”

  She was
n’t quite sure what to do with his show. Was he deluded?

  “Are you always so dramatic, or has the heat gotten to you?” she asked with a smile.

  “Dramatic? You haven’t seen dramatic, if you think a man on a quest looks like anything more than an ant walking across the ground.”

  “See? You’re talking in terms that make no sense. What does an ant walking across the ground have to do with how crazy you’re acting?”

  “That’s the point, it’s not dramatic at all. You want to see dramatic? I’ve seen dramatic, believe me I’ve seen dramatic, although not for a long time. In fact, that might be my problem.”

  “Maybe. But it’s not every day you find a man walking around in a robe, spreading his arms to the sky, begging God to kill him. At least not in my circles.” She knew that she had to earn his trust, but she had no sense of how to affect such a man.

  “Then maybe you walk in the wrong circles,” Caleb said.

  “I’m Jewish. The notion of God isn’t foreign to us.”

  “I’m not talking about a notion. I’m talking about the real thing. The parting of the Red Sea. The sun standing still. The fire in the bush. When was the last time you saw the fire?”

  “I haven’t ever seen the fire. But then I’m not Moses, and I don’t think you are either.”

  He just stared at her, at a loss for words.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Look, maybe we should just start over. I really didn’t mean to disagree or anything—you just took me by surprise.” She laughed and wondered if it sounded manufactured. She should just drag him out into the desert and get what she needed from him. But studying Caleb as she was now, she knew that would be impossible.

  “You don’t look like the kind of person who would associate with these monks,” she said. “I’d expect to see you in a uniform, ordering armies around.”

  He continued looking at her as if he hadn’t heard.

  “Okay, well maybe not . . . How long have you been here?”

  “Two days.”

  “Two days?” She hesitated. “You just wandered in? Are you ready to leave?”