“Dear Dog, I don’t know the day, but you do. Thank you for introducing me to my father—though it seems odd to meet my father at the ripe old age of fifteen. Thank you for my animal friends. Thank you for the gift of animal speak. You can take Judd away any time. Can you make Daniel like me? Tell me more about the king of the garden. Who is he? I saw him in the wilderness today. I’d love to meet him.”

  I put the reed-pen down and reflected on what I wrote. I was glad to be writing again. I’d be careful not to write anything too indicting.

  Earlier in the day when we returned, Scylla was furious with me. “I rescued your donkey,” I told her, “and returned him to the cave.” I’d hope to appease her, but it didn’t work.

  She accused Daniel of not doing his job.

  “No, he just got out,” I insisted. I didn’t want to get Daniel in trouble for my impertinence. To be safe, I chose not to ramble on in my diary about her foibles. What if she ever found my notes? I didn’t need any more incriminating evidence against me.

  After a bit, things returned to normal. I bided my time for a private moment with Daniel. When Scylla got busy with something besides stewing over me, I headed to the cave to find him. I spotted him in the field, staff in hand, watching over the sheep.

  What a handsome young man. Too bad I couldn’t let my imagination wander. Since he was three years older, I was too young to interest him. Besides, Mother wanted me to stay away from “older” men. She said I was too immature.

  As I approached, his face brightened. “I hear you went on an animal rescue in the wilderness to find Baruch?”

  “Yes.”

  He prodded his staff in the dirt. “A young girl should never go out alone. There are robbers and thieves and men with bad motives.”

  I ignored his rebuff. “Daniel, I need to tell you what happened and hope you can explain to me what it means.”

  He raised his brow with interest. “What do you want to tell me, and what makes you think I’ll know the answers?”

  “We saw something I can’t explain—Baruch and me.”

  Daniel grinned. “I could read your mind, but it’s more fun to listen to you.”

  I blushed. He might learn something I didn’t want him to know. “Yes, let me tell you.”

  Daniel leaned against a palm tree and crossed his arms. “Go ahead.”

  I was elated to share my story. I brushed my hair back from my face and took a deep breath. “I went after Baruch in the wilderness, and soon after finding him, the sky opened up into two dimensions. Lightning peeled down the mountain and into the valley.”

  Daniel’s eyes popped. “How could the sky open?”

  I glanced up into the heavens, reliving the scene in my mind. How could I explain what I saw? “Have you ever seen evil?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Baruch said the black creature was an underling—I call him a demon. The more I think about it, the more the vision disturbs me.”

  Daniel looked befuddled. “Tell me what you saw. I don’t understand.”

  “The black creature wanted the man to worship him. The man seemed ordinary—except that he was exhausted and weak. The creature, who might have been a demon, tried three times to get the man to obey him.”

  Daniel stared at the ground, deep in thought, tapping the rocks with his staff.

  I added, “Baruch said the man was the king of the garden. He must have been very hungry because afterwards angels brought him food.”

  “Angels?” Daniel eyed me skeptically. “What else did the demon want the man to do?”

  I swallowed hard. “First, the underling told the man to turn the stones into bread. Then the underling told him to jump off a high peak, claiming the angels would save him. The man responded by saying, ‘it is written.’ Then the underling offered him all the wonders of the world if the man would worship him.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Sounds like something mystical. Nothing like that is in the Torah.”

  “The what?”

  “Our Scriptures, the first five books of the Bible.”

  “The cloaked figure quoted words, and the man quoted other words back. I don’t know where the words are written.”

  “This has you worked up, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded. “I wish you could speak to Baruch.”

  “You’re very troubled,” Daniel observed. “And for a sensitive girl like you, that makes it even more unsettling. But do you believe what you just told me—you aren’t stretching the truth?”

  “You don’t?” I snapped. “How do you explain it, or explain how we got here, or why we’re here? I thought you were smarter than me, but maybe not.”

  I stopped short. I had said too much. He’d hate me now, but I didn’t like it when people didn’t listen to me or take me seriously.

  “I use logic to answer questions.”

  “How can you say that when we find ourselves back in time? Maybe logic doesn’t always work.”

  “Maybe not,” he responded tersely.

  “I expected you to have all the answers.” Disappointment overwhelmed me. It was easier for Daniel to attack what I saw than to explain what it meant. “Have you ever had anything like that to happen?”

  “No, but I’ve seen weird things since I came here that I can’t explain.”

  “I’m not making this up. Can you just try to believe me?”

  Daniel nodded. “Yes.”

  “Who do you think the two creatures were?”

  Daniel walked several feet away and stopped. He spoke a few words in Hebrew, clasped his hands, and lilted a few more phrases. “That explains one thing.”

  I approached him. “What’s that?”

  “Why this time? Why back in Roman times? Why now?”

  “Yeah, why now?”

  Daniel studied me. “How good are you in history?”

  I laughed. “Not so much. It’s boring.”

  “Not all of history. Let me give you a quick history lesson.”

  I anticipated a dull lecture.

  Daniel began. “A significant person was born during the reign of Caesar Augustus. Controversy surrounded his birth—his origins. Many called him a king, and others called him the Jewish Messiah. I never took the rumors seriously because the Jewish leaders rejected him.”

  “Why did they do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Reject him?”

  Daniel ignored my question. “Could this be the man talked about in the New Testament—is what I started to say?”

  “You mean the Bible?”

  “Yes. I remember reading this story or seeing it in a movie. The devil tempted a prophet after spending forty days in the wilderness without food. Some called him a lunatic. I figured he was a false prophet. There have been hundreds of them throughout history. The Jews didn’t need another one at that time in history when they were already so oppressed by the Romans.”

  “You didn’t answer me, Daniel. Why did the Jewish leaders not believe the things he said?”

  “They were wise in the law, and after evaluating his claims and his background, they found him not to be who he said he was.”

  “Suppose they were wrong?” I persisted.

  Daniel appeared caught off guard—as if he believed what he believed because that’s what he had always believed. “They weren’t wrong. You are talking about the Sanhedrin, the most learned men of the day, including both the Sadducees and Pharisees, who didn’t agree on anything, but both groups rejected his claims. They knew the Scriptures.”

  Daniel paused, as if still struggling to dismiss what I had just said. “At least your father is a Roman citizen— if that’s the time period now. As for me, I’d better not stir up any trouble here.”

  “He didn’t seem like a lunatic to me. Baruch called him the king of the garden.”

  “What does a donkey know about anything?”

  “Do you believe in God?” I asked.

  “Yes, of course, the Jewish God.”

  “How many god
s are there?”

  Daniel shrugged. “I believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God who saved us from the Arabs after World War II when we were attacked. And, more recently, when God protected us against Iran—since help never arrived from our allies.”

  “Who is this guy, then? A lunatic, a prophet, a king, or God? The underling wanted the man to bow down and worship him.”

  Daniel wrote a Hebrew word with his staff in the sand. “If he’s the same one spoken of in the New Testament, he’s a misguided man who did a lot of good things. Some called him the Son of God. That’s what got him into trouble with the Jews. Caesar didn’t like him because some called him a king. There could only be one of those among the Romans. Jealousy reigned supreme.”

  I crossed my arms defiantly.

  Daniel laughed. “Did he look like a king? Wouldn’t he look like one? He sure wouldn’t be wandering around in the wilderness.”

  “I suppose,” I conceded.

  “Shale, calling oneself God is blasphemy. Anyone who does so is subject to death. Maybe he’s a schizophrenic, but he couldn’t be the Son of God—or God.”

  “Suppose you’re wrong? Suppose he’s the Son of God?”

  Daniel shook his head.

  The look in his eyes pierced my heart.

  Daniel continued. “We had a couple of patients in the psychiatric ward who were delusional. The nurses kept them doped up. Of course, they doped up everybody, even those who shouldn’t have been. It’s hard to know who someone is. They thought I was crazy, and I wasn’t.”

  “You aren’t crazy,” I assured him. Curiosity got the best of me. “What did you just write in the sand?”

  “God’s name, that is too holy to say. God doesn’t give his glory to others,” Daniel added. “Maybe there’s a reason for us being here.” His voice trailed off as his eyes followed the disappearing road in the distance. Then he squinted several times.

  “Are your contact lenses bothering you again?”

  “No.” He leaned in as if looking for something. “We’re being watched.”

  “We are?” Prickles up and down my arms made me cringe. I didn’t like surprises.

  Daniel pointed towards the entrance to the cave. “Over there.”

  “By who?”

  “Judd.”

  I followed his finger, but I couldn’t tell if it was him. I strained to see. “How long has he been there?”

  Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know. He wants his job back and is looking for a way to make that happen.”

  I squinted to see but without success. “I hate him.”

  “You hate the Judd from your own life, time—dimension.”

  “Why do you think he’s not the same?”

  “I tried to explain this to you. Suppose you were born in this dimension. Imagine what the possibilities would be. You would still be you, with the same set of parents, but your future and your world would be different. Your past would be different in some ways, but the same in others. They are like parallel universes.”

  “Suppose there’s a spiritual component you’re missing, Daniel?”

  “What would that be? I’m Jewish, and you aren’t anything. Don’t you think if there were something spiritual in all of this, I’d see it before you would?”

  “Unless you’re blind.”

  Daniel seemed irritated by my rebuff.

  “Why are we here, Daniel? Something significant happened out there in the desert. I intend to find out what.”

  “And I like that about you, Shale Snyder.”

  He said my full name as if he meant it. “One more question for you, Mr. Scientist. If God wanted to reach you, do you think he could do anything in the universe to make that happen?”

  Daniel exhaled. “Yes.”

  “So if you read something somewhere, like in a book, could he make it come alive?”

  Daniel’s eyes kindled with passion. “Yes.”

  “Could he transport you back in time?”

  “God can do anything,” Daniel said.

  I turned back towards the house and searched for Judd. “Is he still there?”

  “Yes. As long as he lets me take care of the animals, mainly yours, I don’t care if he’s around.”

  “You don’t think he would hurt them, do you?”

  “No. Not unless he wanted to make it appear as if I did it to get rid of me.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  Daniel said reassuringly, “He might be mean, but I don’t think he’s wicked.”

  I hoped Daniel was right. “Just one more question. Why would the underling offer the man everything if he would bow down and worship him? The black creature already had lots of power.”

  “There’s good and evil in the world. The Pentateuch gives us examples of both.” Daniel kicked the rocks under his feet. “The Jewish people have a rich history—we are God’s chosen. I can’t believe this pauper is any more than a good man—and still be Jewish. I could never give that up. It is who I am.”

  I stared at the ground. “I believe he’s more than a good man, and I wish I was Jewish.”

  Daniel grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and said. “You’re a Roman, a good Roman citizen. That is to be valued here. If anything bad happens in the world, the Jews get blamed for it. It’s almost like a curse.”

  The way he said it gave me goose bumps. “Why, if you are God’s chosen?”

  Daniel murmured, “I don’t know.”

  Chapter Twenty

  DARK LIGHT OF THE MOON