Soul Matters: Book 4, Monocracy Managerie

Phil and Donna were successful in retiring to Phil’s study to research ‘contemplation,’ as Pastor Mike laid out in his sermon.

“You can sit on the leather beanbag,” Phil directed as he sat in the chair behind his walnut desk. Donna turned off the lights and perched cross-legged on the beanbag. The glare of a streetlight coming through the window behind Phil cast friendly shadows throughout the study.

“Use the techniques you know to get yourself into a meditative state,” Phil told her. “I’ll do the same. It usually goes quicker when there’s more than one person meditating.”

For many minutes they sought to calm their minds, until Donna said, “I’m there.”

“Good,” Phil replied. “Imagine you’re at the start of a trail through a forest. Concentrate on the details -- the bark of a tree; the wind and sun on your face; the smells; and so on.”

Phil let his mind reach out to Donna’s, and he began to sense something of what she was doing. Eventually, the sense hardened into a firm intent, and she spoke, “I’m there.”

“Good,” he affirmed. “Now slowly walk up the trail. You’ll notice passing through curtains of resistance as you go. For now, just notice them. They are different energy states.”

He paused to let her proceed down the trail, and he could more accurately sense when she was in each new energy state. At length, she was nearing the final one, and he told her, “The trail forks. Take the right fork to the top of a staircase.”

Presently she said, “I’m there.”

“Go down the steps,” he instructed. “There are eight steps. Notice once again you’ll be passing through different energy states.”

Phil felt her progress down the stairs. When she reached the bottom and told him so, he said, “Before you now is a large archway. Let it construct itself. Take your time with it, until it feels just right.”

As she was doing so, there came a bolt of light, like a giant strobe blinding them. It drove both of them out of the meditation. Their eyes jolted open. Between them stood Azazel.

“You’re cheating again, Phil,” the desert devil said in a reproving tone.

“I can see him,” Donna’s startled voice announced.

“Of course, you can,” was Azazel’s seductive reply. “You’ve been given to me.”

“What?”

“It was a trade for knowledge.”

“Dad?”

“I didn’t trade you.”

“Not directly, anyway,” the devil chided. “But he did benefit from the knowledge.”

“Dad?!”

Phil ignored her to address the devil, “How is it cheating to equip her with the tools of Enlightenment?”

As Phil asked the question, he gathered energy from Flesh, Force and Spirit into his chest. If there were to be a battle for Donna, he would die protecting her.

“Good question,” Azazel smiled, and his boyish beauty lit up the darkness. “Let’s go ask her birth angel, Haniel.”

This was a new one for Phil. He knew of Guardian Angels, but not Birth Angels. Suspecting a trick, Phil used the energy in his body to project himself to Manuel’s patio.

“In my study. Now,” he shouted at the image of Manuel catering to his flowers. Then he refocused on Azazel.

The devil was explaining, “It has to do with the 72 names of God. There are 72 angels assigned to mankind in general. They come in three classifications: incarnation angels, heart angels, and intellect angels. Haniel is her incarnation angel. He can help with our dispute.”

“There’s no dispute,” Phil stalled. “She has free will. She chooses to learn ways to defeat you.”

Azazel smiled again, “True enough, but she didn’t have this as a choice until you made her aware of it. Ergo, it’s cheating. I’m supposed to have a clear run at her, and you’re not permitting it.”

Manuel popped into the room and grimaced at the standoff.

“Well, well,” Azazel cooed. “The archangel of disasters has arrived. Care to join us? We’re off to consult with Haniel.”

“I was worried about this,” Manuel sighed. “Phil, put your hand on her shoulder. We’ll do the rest.”

Phil walked over to a still-shocked Donna, sat next to her on the beanbag, and placed his hand on her shoulder. Manuel positioned himself behind them and placed his hands on both their shoulders. Soon they were in a dizzying flight to the realm of Physically Manifesting Spirits.

The four of them emerged in a colonnaded hall. Angels were walking about talking to one another. It was a peaceful enough scene, like one from a period movie about Mediterranean living. They could be anywhere, from the ancient Minoan isle of Crete, Greece, or Rome. The angels, robed in different colors, walked in sedate comfort discussing the issues they were interested in and barely registered the arrival of the four.

Azazel called to one angel who approached. He was stern looking with square features and light brown curls to his shoulders. His robe was gray with horizontal yellow stripes.

“Haniel,” the devil smiled. “We have a dispute you can settle. Donna is bound to you as her incarnation angel.”

“I know her,” Haniel spoke, and his voice was a strong tenor. “What is the dispute?”

“She was traded to me for information,” Azazel explained. “Now her father is trying to rig the game by teaching her spiritual tricks.”

“Not entirely correct,” Manuel rejoined. “The rules of the game were not set. We only promised to withdraw angel and archangel protection.”

Phil turned to Manuel, “When did you agree to those terms?”

“You missed it. It was done telepathically.”

“What else did I miss?”

“Nothing much.”

“Dad, what’s going on?” Donna’s voice was bordering on terrified.

“Just breath and focus,” he said. “These things work themselves out in the end.”

Haniel smiled at Donna and told her, “Your talents lie in breaking out of the circle of karma. Calm your fears; subdue your stubbornness; and greet this as an opportunity to grow.”

Then Haniel spoke to the devil, “I see no reason why a father cannot help a daughter. It is his sacred duty to do so.”

“It’s cheating,” Azazel said and his face darkened.

“It’s love,” Haniel countered.

Azazel’s face twisted into rage, and Phil summoned the energies of Flesh, Force and Spirit back into his chest.

“Fine,” Azazel spat out. “If I can’t have her, then no one will. Her days are numbered. Mark my words.”

Then he vanished.

“What does he mean?” Donna asked in a trembling voice.

“He’ll try to get you killed,” Manuel answered lightly.

“And with no angelic protection, he will most likely succeed,” Haniel added. “But no matter. You’ll reincarnate to continue your quest.”

“I don’t want to die,” Donna told them. “I want to live this life through. And I especially don’t want to die under these circumstances. Sold out to Azazel. Whose great idea was that? Yours?”

She was glaring at Manuel.

“It seemed a good idea at the time,” Manuel tried. “I didn’t think Azazel would be so obnoxious about it.”

“He hates me,” Phil reminded them.

Haniel broke into the bickering, “If the angels cannot help you, Donna, maybe Ishtar can.”

“Of course,” Manuel exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of it?”

Donna answered, “Because you were too busy being stupid.”

Phil laughed. If Donna only knew how much abuse he’d seen at Manuel’s hands for stupidity, she would know how sweet this bizarre situation was.

“Who is Ishtar?” Donna asked Haniel.

“A mask of God,” the angel replied. “I stood for her until she was approved as a legitimate mask of God. Therefore she and I are bound together. Come with me.”

Haniel put his hand on Donna’s shoulder, and Manuel did the same with Phil. In moments, they were flying across the PMS level to the cloudbank where the retired masks of God were housed.

From a distance, the top of the clouds seemed littered with black dots. As they flew closer, the dots became statues. Phil knew these statues were the hollow shells of inactive masks of God. Metatron had once told him there were some 200 of them.

They alighted before a goddess. She was tall, robed in a white-tiered skirt, and she sported wings. Behind both bare shoulders were weapon cases. In her right hand was a double-headed weapon -- a mace and scimitar on a long shaft. An eight-pointed star pendant hung between her breasts, and she wore a horned headdress. A lion cub slept at her feet.

“This is Ishtar,” Haniel announced and began searching for the door to allow them entrance into the twenty-foot tall statue.

“They’re hollow,” Phil explained to Donna. “When filled with the power of worship, they were living representatives of the Unknowable Creator.”

“Here it is,” Haniel said, and he opened the door he found in the flowing skirt.

They entered the statue and climbed to the platform where they could gaze out the portholes of Ishtar’s eyes.

“She can’t bring it to life,” Phil said to Haniel. “I haven’t taught her how to connect to the Universal Life-force, nor to Spirit.”

“No matter,” Haniel replied. “In this case, I can bring her to life. I am bound to both Ishtar and your daughter. I am the living link.”

Haniel’s eyes closed momentarily, then energy flowed out of him to fill the statue. Ishtar came to life.

“Haniel,” she spoke. “Your need to urgent. Do you awaken me as warrior or as a fertility goddess?”

“Warrior, my lady,” Haniel answered. “This human female is in need of protection from the forces of evil.”

“I feel her presence, Haniel. She is strong but young and inexperienced. Who seeks to do her harm?”

“Azazel, my lady. He has advanced in power while you slept. He is her mortal enemy.”

“Speak to me, girl,” Ishtar commanded. “What is your name? What do you seek?”

Donna took Phil’s hand before she could find her voice. Phil squeezed her hand to reassure her and was reminded of a trip to Disneyland. She took his hand then, too. At age 6, she was overwhelmed by the crowds and the energy of the place.

“I am Donna, my lady,” she said with a waver in her voice. “I seek my destiny as a child of God. Azazel would take this from me.”

“I am a child of Anu and Nanna,” Ishtar said. “You may be my adopted daughter if you so desire. Haniel stands for you, and it is enough for me. Do you accept?”

“What are my duties as your daughter?”

A deep rumbling laugh filled the hollow space of the statue. Then Ishtar’s strong soprano relayed, “In Egypt, they revere me as the goddess of healing. You must apprentice yourself to me and learn to heal.”

“I accept,” Donna called out.

In the next moment, all four of them were standing before Ishtar. She expelled them from her insides, and now they saw her towering living form.

She raised her arms high, and her wings stretched wide. As her hands met over her head, a blazing globe of light formed between them. She hurled the globe of light to Donna, who caught it. As Donna opened her fist, though, an eight-pointed star was there.

“Call my name when you need me,” Ishtar proclaimed. “I will enter your being and give you protection. In your dreams, I will instruct you about the healing arts. Wear my symbol next to your heart, my daughter, and call me often.”

Then Ishtar turned back to stone.

Manuel spoke first, “That went well. Don’t you think?”

“Dad, who is this?”

“Manuel,” Phil answered. “It’s a long story.”

Haniel interrupted, much to Phil’s relief, “Donna, the status quo is your enemy. The material world and tradition are your weaknesses. Azazel knows this. He will use the patterns you cling to as leverage. Examine these weaknesses and correct them. In correcting them, you defeat a master of demons.”

“But he’s going to kill her,” Phil reminded them with some heat.

“He can only do so by way of her nature,” Haniel explained. “As a natural consequence of her unconscious patterns.”

Phil frowned and pointed out, “Random accidents kill people all the time.”

“They’re not random,” Manuel said. Then, after reading Phil’s mind, he added as a telepathic aside, “They aren’t predestined either. We won’t be getting into this lovely topic today, Phil. Suffice it to say, chance and synchronicity are in the same category. Both are avenues for Divine -- or at least angelic -- interventions.”

“You may return to your reality now,” Haniel said.

Manuel put a hand on Donna and Phil’s shoulders, and once again they were flying across the PMS level; then they passed through an oval gate to the much more dizzying return to Earth.

Phil breathed himself back into his body and opened his eyes. Only Donna was in his study. She slowly opened her eyes and stared at him in bewilderment.

“Welcome to my world,” he remarked in a dry tone.

“All of it was real, wasn’t it?”

“All of it.”

“He’s going to try to kill me.”

“It’s his job,” Phil explained. “If he can’t prevent you from evolving, he tries to get you to the shadow side of the next level. Failing that, he tries to get you off the planet.”

“But why?”

“He’s a dark angel,” Phil’s voice now became a patient father’s. “He serves darkness. When you defeat him, it proves your right to be at the next level.”

“I’m scared, Dad.”

“I know. I’m scared for you, but the creatures of the dark feed on your fear and magnify it. Fear is one of their allies. When you slip into fear, immediately call on Ishtar.”

“She’s real, too. Isn’t she?”

“Yes,” he said gently. “It would also be a good idea to read up on her -- get to know her legends, history, and myths. The more you know about her, the stronger she can be for you.”

“Okay,” she said in a little girl’s voice. “I think I’ll go to bed now.”

“Pay attention to your dreams,” he suggested.

Phil sat alone after she left and reviewed the events of the last few hours. Eventually, he realized there was nothing more he could do. He would get back to teaching Donna the Apache symbology of the trail, staircase, arch and Medicine Area maybe tomorrow or the next day. She had a lot to digest before she would be ready for more. Then he went to bed.

At noon the next day, he received a call from Betty. His secretary said it was urgent. Phil ended the staff meeting he was conducting and hurried to his corner office. Closing the door, he picked up his phone.

Betty started right in, “What have you done to our daughter?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve involved her in your satanic rituals,” she shouted at him. “I know you have. And I won’t stand idly by and have you destroy her.”

“Calm down. Tell me what happened.”

“She’s locked herself in her room and won’t come out,” Betty’s voice was not much calmer. “I can hear her crying and praying and crying some more. She’s a wreck, and it’s your fault.”

“I’ll leave right now,” he began, but she cut him off.

“You’ve done enough, Phil. I don’t want you in this house ever again.”

Phil didn’t know what to say, so he attempted, “Well, call Pastor Mike, then. He should be able to convince you I don’t engage in satanic rituals.”

“I already called him,” Betty snapped back. “He’s on his way. But you -- you stay away from my daughter.”

“Fine,” Phil grumped. “Let me know what happens.”

Then he hung up, but the in-house light blinked on. He answered the call. It was Ron Dobson.

“Phil,” he said in his ponderous way. “I talked to Betty. It seems you haven’t learned your lesson. This is your two-week notice. We’re letting you go.”