The Book of Names

Micah sat on a bench at the Battery, looking out on the ocean’s waves as they lapped against the seawall and fencing barricades that had stood for well over a century. The peaceful moss swayed in response to the whisper of an April wind rustling through the leaves of the massive oaks that lined the park at White Point Gardens. The weather was lovely this time of year in Charleston, as was the 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’d lost the little black notebook four days prior. He had never been without the book in his possession. It would not be long, however, before he’d have it back - before she arrived with it. His hands itched at the thought of holding the book again as he waited, pondering the recent turn of events that had led him to this point.

Four days ago, it had been another warm April day when he’d chosen to sit on this very same bench. As he’d done so, lost in thought as to what his future might hold, he’d caught sight of two women walking the high stone precipice in front of him. Of the two, he was instantly drawn to the woman with beautiful red hair. She was striking, even from a distance. Graceful in her movements, she reminded him of a ballet dancer. Quite animated as she spoke, she moved her hands and body to reflect the passion of her thoughts. His interest, seldom piqued, was thus as he watched her. Inexplicably, he felt the pull and knew instinctively that she was someone very special. After several lapsed minutes, the two women hugged goodbye, but the redheaded one remained, continuing to look out upon the ocean.

While watching her and wondering exactly what it was that drew him to her, he had absent-mindedly placed the little black notebook in his pocket - or so he’d thought. Even from where he’d sat, he could feel the beauty and the power her soul emitted. She was undoubtedly also 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. But this woman, well she more than snared it - it was as if something about her had beckoned to him. Entranced, he had continued to watch her for long minutes before he’d headed home to the small carriage house apartment. Once there, he had stretched upon the bed, and though he’d left the woman behind, the allure he’d felt for her still encompassed him. Relaxing, he had welcomed the serenity of his thoughts and fallen asleep a short while later.

Awakening just prior to the twilight hour, he’d immediately realized something was amiss. Reaching into his pocket for the notebook, he’d found it was not there. Fearing he’d left it on the bench at the Battery, he had rushed back to the park but had been unable to locate the notebook despite his best attempts. It was then he’d realized that, while preoccupied with watching the woman, he had accidentally and completely missed his pocket.

Knowing the importance of the little book, he had immediately posted an ad, offering a $10,000 reward for its recovery. He’d waited impatiently for three days before a woman had unexpectedly called, leaving a voice mail on his phone; she had the book and wanted to return it. She also insisted she did not want the reward - she only wanted to return the book to its rightful owner. As he’d listened to her soft voice, laced with a lilting Southern accent, he’d realized 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 wanted to be surprised by this turn of events, but something told him not to be; this was most assuredly pre-destined fate.

He had returned the call immediately, learning that she wanted to meet him at the Battery the following afternoon at four o’clock. She’d told him that she was anxious to return the book to its rightful owner and again had stated that a reward wasn’t necessary, but if he insisted, she would gladly donate the money. As he’d spoken briefly with her over the phone, he’d instinctively known the questions that filled her mind. There had been no doubt of it: she had read the book. As to whether she’d question him about its contents, he did not know, but he had to be prepared to answer any questions she might pose.

And so, it was that day at last, and he’d soon have the book back - and he’d soon meet her. He sat, attempting to be patient as he waited. Looking at his watch, he realized it was nearly four o’clock. He had been at the park, seated on the same bench, since two o’clock that afternoon. He was both anxious to have the book back in his possession and to meet the woman whom he had seen from afar only days earlier. He could smell the salt of the ocean and the fragrance of the blooming flowers as he heard the birds singing, only a faint trace of a breeze hanging in the warm air. His senses were on high alert as he waited for the book - and for her. There was no question any longer that she was special in ways yet to be revealed. He knew, however, that just how so would be disclosed to both of them all too soon.

He turned to watch her gradual approach. He’d told her that he’d be wearing a pale blue shirt and seated on the bench directly in front of the gazebo in the park’s center, and it was obvious that she had spotted him. Her lightly printed dress and red hair swayed in the light breeze as she drew nearer and hesitantly extended her hand in greeting. As he stood and took the slim hand within his own, he was filled with a new, overwhelming awareness of the woman who stood before him, much stronger than his initial impressions days earlier. He was sure now of what he suspected, and he also knew she was about to find out more than she had dared to ever imagine.

“Hello,” she said, her voice as soft as the April breeze. “I’m Amelia Grace.”

He smiled. He would always think of her as simply ‘Grace’ from this moment forward.

He extended his hand and said, “Hello. My name is Micah.”

He sensed the myriad of questions that flooded her mind as he felt her small, warm hand within his own. She firmly grasped the notebook with the other hand, clutching it to her chest.

Micah gave her an envelope and said, “Here is the $10,000. I must insist you accept it. The book is invaluable to me, and I am thankful more than you know for its return.”

She eyed him skeptically, but took the money. “I will gladly accept the money on behalf of the local homeless shelter. However, might I ask you a few questions about the book? Please, if you don’t mind, that is?”

Ah, yes. He was not surprised. “Of course. What did you want to know?” he asked innocently, already inordinately aware that he needed to answer her questions with the truth.

Amelia Grace hesitated, unsure where to start since she had an abundance of questions. The book was very strange, making absolutely no sense. Unsure of herself, she began, “There are so many names listed in the book, with dates that go as far back as the Renaissance. And each listing or each name has a detailed account of events with it. For example, Beethoven,” she continued as he listened intently, already keenly aware what words would issue forth from her mouth. She carefully opened the book and read, ”‘Saved from suicide, dedicating his life to his music, August 30, 1802.’ And there's also Michelangelo, ‘Agreed to complete the Sistine Chapel, initial misgivings reconciled, January 3, 1508’. And that’s just two of the many well-known names,” she said. “Indeed, there are so many names, both well-known and not so, in the notebook. Whatever do they all mean?” Her face reflected her confusion.

“Please. Sit with me a moment,” Micah said, gesturing toward the bench, watching her intently. “May I call you Grace?”

She nodded. No one had ever called her ‘Grace’ with the exception of her Mother, who had been dead for many years. She was going to take this as a good omen. She was already aware that she liked this man even though she knew absolutely nothing about him. There was a depth of goodness that seemed to radiate from his beautiful, clear blue eyes. And why did she feel as though she’d known him always when she’d only just met him?

As they sat on the bench, Micah turned to her. “It’s a beautiful day, is it not, Grace? Perhaps a day for revelations and new beginnings.”

She eyed him with curiosity but nodded, an unexpected peace filling her with his words.

He continued. “You may accept and donate the money as you desire, and I will still answer your questions. However, tell me, are you prepared to open your mind to the inconceivable? To something you don’t understand? Something many consider rather unearthly?”

She eyed him dubiously but then shivered before she shook her head affirmatively. ”She already suspects what I am going to say, he thought.

“I am a Nephilim or an immortal being created by the love between an angel and a human. Some would call me a fairy,” he smiled. “For centuries, I have traveled to those in need, offering intervention in their moments of desperation and indecision. Some were well-known individuals, such as Beethoven, and some were more obscure identities, such as Frederica Wessell on page 398. If you read her inscription, it will say, ‘Changed her mind about killing the Nazi soldier who tortured her at Dachau, forgives him instead, September 22, 1958’.” Micah saw surprise in her eyes, but he also saw something more: there was an acceptance of something she had long suspected.

“A Nephilim?” she questioned, her voice surprisingly soft. “A cross between an angel and a human....whose mission is to help others?”

“Yes,” Micah nodded, his vivid blue gaze all-knowing as he closely watched her. He glanced at the book she still held firmly in her grasp. “Please, Grace, open the book,” he said quietly. “And turn to page 444. There is a new entry.”

Grace stared at him for a long moment, her green eyes curious, before she finally opened the book, her slim fingers carefully turning the creased pages until she reached the very last entry on page 444. There, on the yellowed page, in brown ink was elegantly inscribed, ‘Amelia Grace Hughes, learns she is a Nephilim, joins Micah to help those in need, March 5, 2021.’

Her eyes full of wonder, Grace looked up to find Micah smiling, a light in his blue eyes. He was surely the most beautiful being she had ever encountered, and truth and goodness seemed to emanate from every part of him. And if possible, he was even more magnificent than she’d initially thought because of what he’d just told her.

Micah’s face suddenly grew serious as he watched her. “I knew from the first moment I touched your hand that you are just like me. You, too, Grace, are a Nephilim who is destined for so much more. From this moment forward, our worlds have collided, and we now coexist. Nothing remains as it was. You are my Yin, and I, your Yang. We complete one another in every way.”

The depth of his words reassured her as he continued, and she smiled, as if in relief at what he told her. “We are predestined to pursue many adventures together, Grace. And there is still much to do. Are you ready for such an undertaking?” Micah asked, standing and extending his hand.

Accepting his outstretched hand, Grace felt the warmth, power, and serenity emanating from it, Her smile grew as she said, “Indeed. I think I have been ready for this moment all my life. When shall we begin?”