His Love In Time: Volume I

IT IS CLEAR THAT I AM ON THE RIGHT PATH. AT LEAST the portals are taking me further into the future, but how far I do not know. The land is fresh, but the water is not. The water that I am standing on is filled with blood. The water is so filled with blood; I almost doubt my location. Sure, I see the pyramids, but could I be on the Red Sea? But one thing is for sure, I am not anywhere near Abraham anymore.

It didn’t take long for me to find the closest little village. All of the homes are nothing but tents. I proceed to walk to the large temple in the city, I want to find out more about where I am before I start poking around. The crocodiles along the banks, give me some input, though.

I walk to the city gates and am stopped before being able to enter much farther. The clothes I am wearing match that of a Roman soldier. But the color is a little darker. “Who might you be?” the guard asks me.

“I am Jacob,” I respond.

“What is your purpose here?”

“I come to find out where I am. I am willing to talk to whoever is in charge!”

“Then you must follow me, and we will see if you are granted permission to have an audience with Pharaoh.”

“I appreciate your generosity.”

I follow the guard to the most prominent building in the city. It looks like a temple. However, I know it is a palace. Inside there are large golden statues, hundreds of servants, and in the back of the palace sits a large chair. A bald man sits in the chair. The man wears more makeup than any drag queen I have ever seen. Worrying about the timeline that I am in, I bow my head as we walk to him.

“Pharaoh, this young soldier, Jacob, is here to request an audience with the mighty Pharaoh Ramesses,” the guard introduces me.

“Soldier, look at me as I am speaking to you!” the Pharaoh demands.

I raise my head up and look at him. He is painted in gold, eyes are dark as night, and he is far from a fit man. He is a man who enjoys telling people to bathe him, to dress him, and to fight for him. If given a moment, I can end him right now. But that is not my purpose here.

“Thank you,” he says. “Now, what can I do for you? You are obviously not one of my soldiers.”

“I come to find out where I am. The signs are misleading.”

“You are in Egypt,” he continues. “Where I am the lord here. Anyone who dares to worship anyone will be fed to the crocodiles.”

“I appreciate your help, I will be on my way,” I bow my head in appreciation and turn towards the exit.

I did not get far before, “Wait!” I turn to look at him, “You still have not told me why you are here.”

“To observe, sir. Just to observe.”

He looks off in the distance for a moment, and an evil grin runs across his face. “Then you will observe those Hebrews by the river. Do not interfere with what my soldiers are doing. And when I demand an answer, you will give it to me.”

“What answer is that?”

“You will see,” he says. He is hiding something, but I am not going to try to pry it out of him. “Now, go.” I do as he wishes and I leave the palace. I overhear him tell one of the soldiers, “Keep an eye on him. Perhaps the Messiah is not a baby, he is an adult.”

Where did I end up? Will I find Joseph and Mary? But they weren’t anywhere near the Nile or the Red Sea.

After my three-mile hike to the river, I am greeted with bread and fresh water from the Hebrews. “Welcome, sir!”

I smile and greatly accept the water and bread. “Thank you, so much.”

“Have you come to free us?” a little girl says, handing me the clay cup of water.

“No, I am sorry. I have been sent here to watch over you.”

“Oh,” she says. The Hebrews that greeted me take the water and bread away and leave my sight. So much for a warm welcoming.

“Miriam!” I hear off in the distance.

The little girl runs to where the scream is coming from.

“Yes, Mother,” Miriam responds.

“I want you to look after your bro…” she notices me observing. “Your brooooand new baby of the family.” She caught herself.

“Do not worry, I will not harm the baby.”

“Thank you,” she says to me.

“How old is he?”

“THE BABY is three months old, and it is getting harder to hide it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because the soldiers are checking all babies in the village. And we are the last ones to be checked. If we are not careful, they will take the baby away from us.”

I hear from the hut next to Miriam’s family, a woman screaming. “No! That’s my baby!”

“Silence!” a soldier shouts. “Or you’re next!”

The baby is whaling from being handled so poorly. I move the tented shade aside to watch in horror as the soldier walks to the Nile and throws the baby in. The baby does not put up a fight, at all, but three large crocodiles swim to the baby, and the blood seems endless.

“What a shame,” I say out loud.

“This is why we do not want the soldiers to know for sure, that we have a son,” the worried mother explains.

I walk to what I think is a safe part of the area, to avoid confrontation with the soldiers. However, once I get to them, it is just a blockade of three large soldiers. One of them is holding a six-foot long cobra, by its neck. The cobra is angry but powerless to do anything.

It is a wrong turn – just leading around to a side road that leads to the Nile River. But it is safe. The soldiers know to leave me alone, but it is not my plan. I only want to watch and make sure that nothing happens to Miriam’s little brother.

The three soldiers quickly turn into four, as one more man emerges from the dark area by the river. One of the men has a scar across his right cheek. Another with a scar across his left. I have to make sure that they do not think anything of me, other than what Ramesses wants them to believe.

I start to walk towards the main road, crossing the ‘Y’ heading to the city, like I haven’t noticed them throwing a newborn baby to its death by a crocodile. I hear them whisper behind me.

“Keep an eye on him, Pharaoh said.”

I glance behind me, hoping to see them standing far enough away from me, but they are hot on my trail. I am further up the trail than they are, but two of the soldiers are getting closer. Picking up the pace, I keep an eye on the road to make sure that I do not trip, just in case I need to make a quick get-away. I glance back one more time to notice that two of the soldiers stayed back to continue what the Pharaoh said to do.

I make my way to the main road leading to the city gates. I am hoping that I can make my way there before it is too late. However, coming out of the gates is a large carriage carrying what looks to be royalty. Inside is a woman, young, as beautiful as an Egyptian or wait… is that Eve?

I look at the palace and back at the carriage. It is hard to decide what to do. Could this be the same woman that has been following me since the dawn of time? How is this possible? I want to learn more, but I want to make sure that Ramesses stops the killing of the babies. Perhaps if I reassure him that the Messiah is not coming, yet. At least not in his time, but I also feel the need to follow this carriage.

But how do I get passed the two amigos?

I look back, and two of them are standing still, watching me. I need to figure out how to do this, carefully. I must not reveal my wings to them, just as there is nowhere to hide. I realize something about what I look like. I, too, am a soldier.

I begin to walk to the two soldiers, watching me. Before I get too close, they turn and walk back to the camp, “Hey!” I call out.

The two of them stop and look at me, “Yes?”

“Why are you two following me?”

“We were told to keep an eye on you.”

I look beyond the two soldiers to see if we are out of sight. Once I am happy with the coast being clear. “There is only one problem with that.”

“What?”

“How are you supposed to keep an eye on me, if you’re knocked out?”

“What?!”

Using my divinity strength, I smash their heads together. With a single tap, they are out cold. Snoring.

I continue down the path towards the carriage, hoping that Miriam has gotten her baby brother to safety.

I get to where the carriage stopped, to see a beautiful woman bathing in the river. She has the same figure as Eve, like Hagar, like Lynn. Who is this woman? How can Eve have this many women in her family line that look like her? What did Hagar mean when she said Adam always liked me? And now this. Accusing her of being anyone but the Pharaoh’s daughter could get me thrown into the lion’s den. But there is something about her.

While she arches her back to get the water to the back of her hair, a small basket bumps into her. “Hey!” she says, startled.

She turns around to see who touched her, to see a basket. Inside the basket is a sleeping baby. She picks up the baby and cradles him for a moment. “Aww,” she says.

She carries him into the carriage, wrapping the babe in one of her rags and goes back to the city.

This time I am not letting anyone stop me from following her.

This night it is hard to keep quiet. I follow her all the way into her royal suite, but finding a place to hide is impossible. All she has in her bedroom is a giant bed, fit for a queen.

But I made it so. She places the little baby, in her arms, and takes care of him like he is her own child. It is pleasing to see.

The next morning, in the rafters, I am woken up by the woman screaming, “But daddy! I found him, and I want to keep him!”

“But sweetheart, you know that I am banning all baby boys.”

“If the God’s won’t bless me with a child after my husband died, then someone did. He ran into me while I was bathing.”

“Bithiah, like I said,” he is interrupted.

“You told me that after mom died, you would always make me happy.”

He gives a deep sigh and says, “Very well. Bithiah, you can keep the child. But find the baby someone to care for it.”

“Thank you, daddy!” Bithiah gives him a kiss on the cheek and returns to the baby.

A short time later, I follow Bithiah as I did yesterday, in silence. It being daytime makes it harder to keep my presence a secret. But I know that it has to be done. We arrive at the village where she looks for Miriam. I never saw the little girl approach Bithiah, so this must be by faith alone.

In the village, outside a small hut, a little girl is playing with a straw doll. Bithiah stops at this small hut and says, “Little girl, come here.”

The little girl does as she is asked. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Where is your mother?”

Miriam points to the river. There we see a young woman, about the same age as Bithiah, washing clothes in the river. Bithiah approaches her, carrying the baby, and says, “You there!”

The woman stops and turns towards the demand of a woman. Realizing who was calling her, she bows her head and says, “Yes my lady?”

“I would like you to take care of my baby.”

“Your baby ma’am?”

“Yes, my baby. He’s still too young to do much, so until I am ready for him, you will care for him.”

“I do not understand.”

“Take your daughter, pack your things, and follow me to the palace. There you and your daughter will watch over Moses. You will be his wet nurse and maidservant.”

Bithiah shows the woman little Moses, and she begins to weep.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because the little baby is beautiful.”

“Oh, well he is supposed to be. He’s a prince!”

“I will do as you command.”

Bithiah waits for the woman and Miriam to gather their things. However, my silence is not held any longer. I fall out of the nearby tree, that was keeping me hidden.

“OWE!”

Startled, Bithiah looks at me. She recognizes me, instantly. “Jacob?!” she says to me.

I stand myself up and look into her beautiful eyes, “The one and only.”

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“I followed you from the palace,” I say.

“Look, Ishmael grew up to be a fine young man and…”

“You are her!” I say with a shock in my voice. “But how?”

“I don’t have time to explain, but I promise you I will soon. Please do not tell anyone. This is the first time that I have been able to keep who I am a secret but live a good life.”

“But doesn’t the Pharaoh know that you are not his child?”

“Please, Ramesses only looks at how someone is dressed. Give me a few minutes, and I can dress you like a prince, and he wouldn’t question who you were either.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The original Bithiah died a few years ago. She came to the river to bathe, and a crocodile got a hold of her. The soldiers were too busy having their way with the local women. I saw it as an opportunity. I took Bithiah’s clothes and dressed myself up like she did. I put the makeup in the same fashion, and before I knew it, I was sleeping in a bed, and not on the ground.”

Miriam and her mother emerge from the tent to see me talking to Bithiah. Bithiah turns to them and hands the mother, Moses. “I will treat him as if he were my own.”

“Good!” The three ladies start the journey back to the palace. Bithiah stops and looks at me. “Are you coming? I will make sure that father makes you my personal bodyguard.”

Happy with the results, I follow.

A few years have gone by, and Moses is becoming a strong little man. His hair has been shaved, like the Pharaoh and he is being treated as a prince of the palace.

His birth mother is no longer alive, and unfortunately, Miriam has been sold to someone else. Regardless of all of my best efforts to stop this, I am still happy to see that Moses is still alive and well.

Moses and his adopted cousin have grown up as brothers. Playing together, fighting with one another, and regardless of those who know the truth, no one will ever know. Ramesses the second is just a handsome as his adopted cousin Moses.

I follow them carefully, to be sure that Moses does not cross the line. I find them, often, play-fighting in the garden.

“Today is the day you will surely die!” Moses says to Ramesses.

“Nonsense, I have not come here to die!” Ramesses says to Moses.

Their plays words click together like clogs on a wooden surface. They both are becoming excellent swordsman. Moses and Ramesses fence back and forth. Until Moses gets the better of Ramesses and cuts his face.

Ramesses runs off, in tears, to his father, the Pharaoh. Moses, drags his sword, following him like a turtle.

“Father, Father!” Ramesses cries out. “Look what Moses did to me!”

The Pharaoh takes a look at Ramesses’ face and sees a small cut along his cheekbone.

Moses enters the throne room. Pharaoh addresses Moses, “Moses, did you do this to my son?”

“Yes, sir,” Moses says. “But we were just playing!” He defends.

“This does not look like any playing. This looks like you were trying to cut him!”

“Oh, give it a rest Father,” Bithiah says from around the corner, entering the room. “How many cuts did you have, playing with your friends?”

“My daughter knows me all too well.” The Pharaoh sits here for a moment, and continues, “Very well, my daughter is right. Boys will be boys. Moses, just be careful next time.”

“Understood sir!” Moses yells.

They run off to continue to play. Pharaoh, however, says, “Wait right there, Jacob.”

I stop and turn to face him.

“Why did you not stop Moses from injuring my son?”

“I, uh...”

“You were lazy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s make sure that this never happens again.”

Annoyed by my punishment, I try to catch up to the two young boys.

They are back at it, play-fighting in the garden like nothing has happened.

A few years have gone by, and the two boys are now two men. Both well established in their royalty.

Moses and Ramesses are well built with strong, firm, muscles. Nothing like the Pharaoh, who sits in his chair with his stomach hanging over the chair.

Moses and I are in the changing room with his adopted mother, Bithiah. Moses stands here, proud, while I am fastening his chest plate to his body.

Bithiah, as beautiful as she always has been is saying, “Moses, I wish you would stop this brigade.”

“I can’t Mother.”

“Yes, you can!”

“You know as well as I do, he is the Pharaoh’s son, and I must do as he wishes. Should he command me to fight him, I must fight him.”

“But Ramesses will lose again!”

“Don’t you think I know that? But he insists on challenging me until he beats me.”

I place the shoulder pads over his defined shoulders. “I am sorry Mother, but if anything goes wrong, Jacob will be there to protect… him.”

I chuckle.

The two of us walk to the courtyard. Ramesses and Moses stand there, opposite each other, ready for battle. The two of them look like they are going to war.

“You’re going to lose this time, Moses,” Ramesses says with false hope. He looks down on Moses, like a tiger sneaking up on his prey.

“You can still back down, Ramesses,” Moses warns.

“Don’t give me that hogwash. You know I won’t back down,” Ramesses says with sweat running down his face.

Moses looks to me and says, “Persistent, isn’t he?”

I nod my head.

The slash of a sword, through the air, comes down as Moses blocks it effortlessly. The clang of swords echoes through the palace, causing a very restful Pharaoh to be annoyed.

“Moses!” the Pharaoh screams out.

“Uh, oh, looks like your daddy is calling,” I say to Ramesses.

The two of them continue to fight, if you call it that. Ramesses is giving Moses everything he has, and Moses blocks every move. But chooses not to fight back. Although, Ramesses does not think this is the case.

Meanwhile, Ramesses teases Moses, “You will bow before me, Moses!”

Eventually, Ramesses gets mad that Moses is not trying. Yet, he continues to try to get a rise out of Moses. Nothing seems to work. Ramesses decides to attack me, thinking that Moses will defend me. Although, Ramesses has never seen me fight. I mock Ramesses as well.

“Oh, come on!” Ramesses says annoyed, “Did you train him?!” he asks me.

I smile and ignore the question. He walks up to the point of his sword aimed at my neck, “You will answer me when you are spoken to!”

With my sword, I move his out of the way of my neck. “You will not point that thing at my neck,” I demand.

Pharaoh arrives to see me looking down on his son. Making the future Pharaoh look like he is not meant to rule. “Enough!” Pharaoh roars.

Ramesses and I are staring at each other. I walk, pushing him backward. “Stay out of this, Father. He is no match for me!” Ramesses says.

“If he trained Moses, how good of a fighter do you think he is? You can’t even beat Moses, and you’re supposed to be the Pharaoh when I die!”

Ramesses turns to Moses and lunges at him. This time, however, Moses counters the attack. Moses steps out of the way of Ramesses’ sword going into Moses’s gut. He swings up and cuts Ramesses where he was cut as a small boy with a wooden sword.

“Moses!” Pharaoh yells. “I told you to stop!”

Breathing heavily, Moses turns to see a badly cut Ramesses. The blood is flowing down the side of his cheek.

Ramesses touches his cheek to feel the cold, wet flow. His eyes widen, and he shrieks in pain. “I’m going to kill you! You will never be anything, I will be a god! You will be nothing, you are nothing!” Ramesses yells. He turns to look at his father and sister. “Tell him!”

“Tell me what?” Moses asks, his breathing has returned to normal.

“Tell him Bithiah or I will!” Ramesses says to his distraught sister.

“Mother?” Moses asks.

“Moses, I have raised you since you were a baby. But you are not my baby.”

“I’m not?!”

“I love you like you are my own, but you are not my flesh and blood.”

“Where do I come from?”

“A long time ago, Pharaoh was killing baby boys in the Hebrew village by the river. Your mother had you float down the river and bumped into me while I was down there. I took you in and raised you as my own. The god’s did not allow me to have a child.”

“So, you saved my life?”

“Yes, Moses, I saved your life.”

“Who is my mother?” Moses says, holding in anger.

“You were supposed to be a slave!” yelled Ramesses. “No, you aren’t even supposed to be alive!”

Moses looks at Ramesses through his eyebrows, in hatred.

Moses leaves the palace.

I catch up to the young prince to find out what is going on.

Trying to find him, I hear an uproar in the courtyard. I run and catch up to him and see him watching all the slaves pulling slabs of concrete.

Nearby, one of the slave masters is whipping the men to work harder. As they pull concrete up, they are to turn around to get more. However, there is one that is hitting a slave with a stick. Causing large bruises to form instantly and gashes in his back. “Get back to work, filthy slave!” says the slave master.

“Slavemaster! What is going on here?” Moses says.

“Prince Moses! This slave is refusing to work until he is given water.”

“And this gives you the reason to hurt him?” asks Moses.

“He is to finish his work day before getting water, that is the rule.”

The slave master turns to the slave, brings up his hand and yells, “So, get back to work!”

He swings down the stick, but Moses catches his arm. “Why don’t you give this man a drink,” Moses says.

The slave master does as he is told, but turns to look at Moses. “Prince Moses, the Pharaoh will hear of this.”

Moses looks at the palace, then looks at the slave master. He pulls a small dagger out, walks up to him and presses the blade into the Egyptians back.

The Hebrew that Moses has protected and himself, hide the Egyptian in the sand. And not very well. I walk up to Moses and ask, “Why did you do this?”

“He was hurting the people, my people.”

“But Moses, you could have done something to stop it from happening, without killing.”

“Now, Pharaoh is going to want your head.”

Moses looks down and away, confused. Not sure of what to do.

He starts to walk back to the palace but comes to terms with what I have told him. He gets on a nearby horse and gallops away.