Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy (7 page)

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Authors: Lorilyn Roberts

Tags: #historical fiction, #fantasy, #historical fantasy, #jewish fiction, #visionary, #christian fantasy, #christian action adventure, #fiction fantasy contemporary, #fiction fantasy historical, #fantasy about angels and demons

BOOK: Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy
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Martha leaned
towards me with concern on her face—“Daniel, are you all
right?”

I chuckled.
“I’m fine. I—I just didn’t expect to see you.”

She threw up
her hands. “Why else would you be in Dothan but to see
me?”

I smiled. I
needed to embrace her reality. “Yes, I decided to come.” I
remembered all the pranks I had played on her when we were young. I
had been cruel at her expense, but fortunately, she never held it
against me. Did she travel back in time, too? No—my sister in 2015
hadn’t opened a store in Dothan. This was a different reality. I
told myself, things were not as they appeared.

I stepped back
to admire her business and waved my hand. “Is this all
yours?”

“Yes,” she exclaimed. “Let me show you around.”

The shop was
small, but for a woman to own her own store in any century was
remarkable. I had a new appreciation for my sister’s talents. She
inherited our father’s business sense.

Too many
questions went through my head. I would start with the easy ones
first. “So how do you get these fine linens from Syria?”

“Traders are always willing to do business with me,
so I have been able to avoid the journey myself. Our father’s name
is good among the Arabs,” she added.

Sadness hit me
that he was no longer with us. She sensed my feelings.

“Don’t be
upset,” said Martha. “We are doing what Father would have wanted us
to do—pursuing our passions, even though it took a while to
convince Mother to let us choose.”

So was my
mother here too? Was Mother the same in both places—in Jerusalem
during the first century as well as 2015?

If only I could
remember what happened after I saw the bright light. Had one of our
enemies invented technology that could send a person back in time?
Or maybe they had brainwashed Martha—no, there was no way they
could create something this elaborate.

“Daniel, are you listening to me?” Martha asked.

I turned my
attention back to her. “Sorry,” I said. “Daydreaming.”

“Anyway,”
Martha continued, “the Silk Road gives me great exposure here—less
competition and more business than in Jerusalem.”

I nodded. “A good business decision on your
part.”

I tried to
listen to her, but my thoughts were on time travel. How did I
travel back in time? I thought about Einstein’s Theory of
Relativity. The only problem was his theory dealt with traveling
forwards in time, not backwards. So how did I go
backwards?

Martha waved
her hand in front of my face. “Daniel, are you listening to
me?”

“Yes, yes, I am. Sorry.”

She talked
about the price of imported cloths, but I didn’t recognize the
brands. My mind strayed. Why the first century? Why couldn’t I have
visited the Renaissance period when Mozart and Handel wrote
classical music? Or why couldn’t I have spent an afternoon in
Florence with Leonardo Da Vinci? I would have told him that many of
his drawings would become a reality hundreds of years later and he
wasn’t a bastard son because of his illegitimacy.

What about the
early 1900s? I could have met Albert Einstein. Why, God, this place
and this time period?

“Daniel, you aren’t listening to me again,” Martha
chided.

“I am,” I assured her.

“What did I say?”

“You were talking about the price of various
imported cloths.”

Martha smiled. “You were listening.” She added, “You
never were much into the family business, were you?”

I shook my
head. “I don’t have the enthusiasm for it that you and Father
had.”

Martha reached
over and laid her hand on mine. “Daniel, be well. You have other
gifts. God is good.”

I laughed.
Martha in 2015 was probably the most religious of any of us.
Perhaps this Martha was a twin to my sister. She seemed to have no
knowledge of anything except the present. She talked about our
mother and missing father.

Did another
Daniel, son of Aviv, live in first century Jerusalem? I’d heard
that everyone has a twin. Maybe my twin lived here. What would
happen if I went to Jerusalem and met him—or me? I was envious that
apparently my twin was able to pursue being a doctor while I was
stuck in the wrong century.

“Would you like some water?” Martha asked.

“Sure,” I replied. “That would be great.”

She stepped
over to the water jug and filled my mug. Perhaps God was trying to
get my attention. I had abandoned my Jewish heritage for too
long.

I shrugged.
“Ani lo mevin,” I said under my breath. I didn’t understand how it
happened, but I was overjoyed to meet Martha. She seemed happy to
be running her own store. Was she really my sister, though? What
could I ask her that only she would know?

She handed me the cup and I took several sips before
testing her.

“Martha, have
you heard any news recently from our brother, Jacob?”

Martha frowned.
“You know I can’t talk about Jacob.”

I shrugged.
“I’ll be glad when this mission is over.”

Martha nodded. “Soon it will be.”

She was
definitely my sister.

 

CHAPTER 11
OPPORTUNITY

 

 

I arrived back
at Jacob’s Inn encouraged. Maybe there were others like me. How
else could people come up with such crazy plots in movies and
books? And those that couldn’t learn to function—maybe they were
the ones who ended up at treatment centers. This much I was sure
of—I’d be the same person if I was born in the first century as I
was in the twenty-first century

As I unpacked
the supplies and put them away, Dr. Luke entered the lobby. He
walked over and watched me, not saying anything at
first.

The doctor was dressed in his usual white robe and
sandals, the typical clothing worn around here, but I imagined him
wearing a white coat in a prestigious hospital.

He approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder.
“Daniel, you’re a hard worker.”

“Thank you.”

I continued to stock the shelves as my spirits
soared at the unexpected compliment.

“I have something I want to share with you, an
opportunity,” Dr. Luke said.

I stopped and looked up.

The doctor had a big grin on his face. “Can we talk
about something important?”

I nodded. When
people say such things, I think I’m in trouble, so I was glad he
began with the compliment.

I followed him over to the window table. A gentle
breeze from the north blew in making the room airy and comfortable.
The window overlooked a small garden that butted up next to the
road. A street merchant by the entrance to the portico was selling
fresh fruit and cakes to some weary travelers.

Dr. Luke’s voice brought me back inside the room and
I listened closely.

“Daniel, I appreciate your help with the lepers and
the patients. You’ve made many friends here.”

I’d never felt myself half as caring as Dr. Luke.
“You set a good example, Doctor Luke. Someday I hope to go to
medical school.”

He grinned. “You’d make an excellent doctor. When
that time comes, and I don’t think it’s that far into the future,
I’d be glad to write a recommendation for you.”

“That would be
great.” I was glad someone thought I could make it through medical
school.

He leaned towards me. “You know Theophilus is a good
friend of mine.”

“Yes, Doctor
Luke.” I had heard the name mentioned a few times. The man was very
wealthy and a high-ranking official in the Roman
government.

Dr. Luke leaned
back with his hands behind his head. “Theophilus and I grew up in
Antioch and attended school together when we were young. He chose
to study law and I went into medicine.”

“Both great professions,” I commented.

“Yes, indeed. Our friendship has continued despite
the heavy hand of the Romans on the Jews and his political
involvement in Roman affairs.” He laughed. “Many times we have
different leanings, but it makes for great conversation when we
have those rare visits together.”

I smiled in agreement.

Dr. Luke
continued. “I was in Caesarea yesterday, and Theo mentioned that a
man who works for him, a scribe skilled in languages, has a mute
son whom he loves. The lad is getting older and his nanny feels
that he needs—well, a respectable young man to guide him through
the teenage years. You know what I mean?”

“Yes.”

“But he can’t talk and frustrates the nanny, so much
so that the father thought having a young man to mentor the boy
when he’s out of town would be of great help.”

I agreed. “I’m sure it would be.”

“Brutus, son of
Dirk, would pay very well, provide room and board, and you could
put that money towards your education.”

“Do they live in Dothan?”

“No, they live in Nazareth, but it’s close enough
you could come by and visit from time to time—I hope.”

“Sure.”

Dr. Luke handed
me a parchment with the details. “Here is a map that shows where
they live.”

I read the note. “So the young boy’s name is Nathan
and he’s twelve?”

Dr. Luke
nodded. “That’s all I know. I’ve never met him or Brutus, but Theo
spoke highly of the family. Brutus is Theo’s administrator in
Caesarea. With Palestine being the bridge between the North and the
South, he’s an asset for peaceful relations among the Romans, the
Jews, the Samaritans, and everyone else.”

“He must also
be pretty smart, too.” Foreign languages were not my strength in
school.

Dr. Luke nodded. “He asked if I knew of anyone that
would be a strong candidate. That’s when I thought of you, though I
hate to lose you.”

Dr. Luke reminisced wistfully before continuing. “He
also said if the new hire could manage the livestock when the
current farmhand couldn’t, he would reward him with bonus pay.”

“I think I
could learn easily enough, Doctor Luke.”

“Great. I will
send word to my friend that you will come as soon as possible. If
you ever travel to Caesarea, you must stop by and meet
him.”

Dr. Luke and I stood and shook hands. I hated
leaving Dothan, but I sensed this would be a great opportunity.

Dr. Luke added
as we walked outside, “You know, Daniel, you are able to perceive
the needs of people in uncanny ways, almost as if you can read
people’s minds. I see that as a gift from God. For a mute boy, that
would be a miracle, to know what his needs are without being able
to say them.”

“I never looked at it like that, as being a gift
from God.”

“Just a thought,” Dr. Luke said. “And a great asset
for someone who wants to study medicine.”

I reflected on
Dr. Luke’s words. I saw mind reading as a skill I had developed.
The more I focused on people’s needs, the more I was able to
perceive those needs, like learning to play the guitar. The more
time I practiced, the better I played.

But that it
came from God—until now I’d thought God was angry with me. I had
refused to go to the synagogue since my father disappeared and had
long given up praying. Why would God want to give me
anything?

My musings
turned to Nazareth. I hadn’t been to the town in years—many
unresolved issues made it a difficult place to live.

 

 

CHAPTER 12 THE
BEGGAR

 

 

I left the next
morning to travel to Galilee. I had said goodbye to everyone the
night before, promising to come back and visit when I had the first
opportunity.

As I passed the
leper colony, I thought about stopping. I had not had a
conversation with them since that first encounter, but they were
never far from my mind—especially the little boy who didn’t have
leprosy but lived with his leprous mom and dad.

If I wanted to
arrive in Nazareth by sundown, however, I shouldn’t stop. My focus
shifted to the road ahead, the caravan route for traders—and one of
the most ancient highways in the world. Too many wars depended on
this highway—Hammurabi of Babylon, Sargon I of Agade, Thutmose III
of Egypt, and more recently, the Crusaders and Alexander the Great.
I shuddered at Israel’s long and violent history.

The rolling
hills flattened into long valleys dotted with rocky outcroppings
surrounded by cedar, cypress and olive trees. I expected to run
into roadblocks or checkpoints but Jews lived peacefully here with
other tribes, unlike modern times.

What happened
to cause the animosity? I kicked the rocks under my sandals,
frustrated that things were the way they were. What if we could go
back and change the future?

A young
shepherd boy stood guard in a nearby fertile field. He was no more
than ten or eleven. He was watching over his family’s most prized
possession. His long stick was all he needed to keep away
predators. The lad would probably never attend school or leave the
country. His dreams began and ended on this small strip of land
that had been in his family for generations.

Opportunity to
become more than a shepherd would never cross his mind. He waved as
I walked by. I smiled and waved back. Maybe his way of life was
better—simple and predictable. An honest lifestyle that was good
enough for David—until God chose him to be king.

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