Where All My Hope Is

A Walk in the Woods

My eyes opened to a poorly lit room. I blinked several times before examining my surroundings. I was on a cot in what seemed to be a one-room house. A fireplace was along one end of the room, and a cozy little armchair was sitting close to the blaze. An open book was on the armrest, and a pair of slippers were warming on the hearth. There was a bookshelf along one wall and one single door.

Several picture frames sat idly on the very top of the bookshelf, collecting dust. I peered hard at them, trying to make out the faces covered in dust. The largest frame was the easiest to see. Four people. The first man on the right had ginger-colored hair, neatly combed. Beside him, hand in hand, stood a woman, her face bright and happy. Blond waves poured from the top of her head. Next, standing a little further to the left, stood an old man, his eyes sunken but his grin happy and content. And standing beside him, a thin woman, younger than the rest, had her arm around him. She looked very much like the first woman, except her hair was a chestnut color and not nearly as long.

Suddenly, I heard a clinking noise behind me, and I whipped my head around, successfully cracking my neck. Standing by what seemed to be the kitchen area, an older man stood stirring a cup of something and adding a little of this and a little of that. He must have heard my neck loudly crack, because he turned 'round and saw that I was awake. He immediately burst into a grin and hobbled over to where I was lying.

"Well, missy? How are ya? Not feeling too badly, I hope?" His voice was old and worn, but it was the kind of voice you could listen to all day and all night and not get tired of. It was the kind of voice created to tell stories.

"Who are you?" I asked rudely.

"Oh, I am sorry, I am! What a fool of me! My name is Plumber, Henry Plumber. And what might your name be?" The old man leaned closer to me and smiled as he handed me the cup of what I now saw was tea. I did some quick thinking as I gulped down the spiced drink and rubbed my neck.

"My name is Felicia Fluesk. Where am I? How did I get here? I don't recognize this style of house."

After cocking his eyebrow at me, the old man laughed and slapped his knee. "Tell you what," he said, "how abouts we get comfortable and I'll tell you a bit about myself . . . Fae." I set my jaw tight. This man obviously knew who I was, so pretending was no use.

I nodded and settled back on the cot warily. Mr. Plumber sank into her chair, sighing. "Well, let's make this short and sweet, shall we? I moved here after they gave me thirty-nine lashes, I did."

"Whatever for?" I asked, cocking my head.

"For believing in the one and only God, Adonai! Oh yes, and I still do, so you can go and tell them that, too!"

"Tell who?"

"Why, those government people!"

"I don't understand."

Plumber sighed again and took a deep breath. "I believe in Adonai. Word got spread around town and soon, everybody knew. Of course, this was a long time ago. Those government people warned me to stop, but turn on Adonai? God of all living? Not me. I kept on praising and worshiping. Well, then they gave me thirty nine lashes and banned me from that city. Do you understand that?" I nodded, more surprised than anything.

This Plumber character believed precisely as I did! A curious thought plagued my mind. I had helped Asterians by bringing food and blankets when they were suffering. How come the government couldn't seem to catch me? It must have been because of Adonai's grace. These thoughts threatened to spill out, and just as I opened my mouth to tell him everything: who I was, what I thought, my mouth snapped shut.

This could be a trap! How can I trust this old man? For all I knew, he could be a government spy!

***

By the end of the evening, Mr. Plumber had gotten me to laugh until the tears ran down my cheeks. When it came time to sleep, I gave him the cot, declaring I would be content to sleep by the coals on the hearth. I watched rather disappointedly as Mr. Plumber locked the door and slipped the key into his pocket. I was allowed to sleep on the hearth, and Mr. Plumber provided me with a soft, downy pillow and a quilt.

That was the best night of sleep I had ever had in a long time. The last time I slept like that was... well... I'm getting ahead of myself. That's a story for another time.

***

I rode on a beautiful chocolate horse on cobblestones. My hair was long again, and as it billowed behind me, I admired my gorgeous gown. A man stood beside me, but I did not recognize him.

Suddenly, the heavens above me were opened. A snow-white horse appeared, and He sat on it like no one I had ever seen. His eyes were like a flame of fire; he wore many crowns on His head. I could see a name written on Him clearly, but I didn't understand it.

He wore a robe dipped in blood. Armies from heaven followed Him on white horses. Out of His mouth was a sharp sword, and on His robe and thigh, and now I could clearly see the name; He had the name written, "KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS."

I stared in awe at the glorious, powerful being before me. Suddenly, I saw an angel standing in the sun. He cried out in a loud voice, "Come, assemble for the great supper of God, so that you may eat the flesh of kings and the flesh of commanders and the flesh of mighty men and the flesh of horses and those who sit on them and the flesh of all men, both free men and slaves, and small and great."

I saw a beast assembling to make war against Him who sat on the horse and against His army. The kings of the earth and their armies joined the beast...

***

I awoke to Mr. Plumber opening the curtains and the sun beaming into my eyes. When I was awake, he hobbled over and said, "Good mornin' Fae!" I greeted him, but my heart longed to return to bed. I wanted to see the end of that dream. Who won? The beast or the One who sat on the horse?

After I ate breakfast, Mr. Plumber led me outside. The outside of his cottage was a log cabin, dainty and neat. On the wall near the front door, an old lantern hung idly. There wasn't a doormat, although I didn't notice until Mr. Plumber apologized for the lack of one. Mighty oaks, towering pines, and elegant birches surrounded the cabin. There was just a beaten path from the front door deep into the forest. I turned to Mr. Plumber, who was heaving a large bundle of sticks to his shoulders. "How far does the path go?" Grunting, Mr. Plumber said that it went on for about three miles.

"How did that boy get me through the woods?"

After shifting his eyes around for a minute, Mr. Plumber said, "Help me with the sticks, will ya?" Acknowledging his poor changing subject skills, I grabbed some sticks and followed Mr. Plumber to the wood box. Once it was full, Mr. Plumber wrapped a scarf around my neck and led me down the path to look for hwidjas. Hwidjas were fat mushrooms that usually grew on old yashki stumps. As we ambled further into the forest, Mr. Plumber pointed out different kinds of ferns, trees, and flowers. Through every detail, he glorified Adonai. The way he admired things, from a quiet fox, to a small sprout stretching for the sunlight, made my senses come to life to the day to day things.

There was a little bridge that we had to cross to get over a stream. After collecting about fifteen hwidjas, Mr. Plumber handed me the basket, and we returned to the cabin, satisfied with our walk.