Free Eve: A Novel by Wm. Paul Young Page A

just monitoring your progress. All’s well.”
    “What language was Han-el speaking?”
    “The same as yours and mine.”
    “No, he wasn’t. I would have understood.”
    “Didn’t you?”
    Lilly almost objected, but then she considered this. Though she couldn’t repeat the words of Han-el’s song, some part of her had known the meaning of it, deep down. He had spoken peace over her. Rest. And to John: answers to questions.
    Or maybe John was just fishing to see how much she had overheard.
    “You’re up a degree,” John announced. “Well done.”
    “What’s a Witness?” she asked.
    “Aren’t you full of questions today!” John chuckled.
    “I hear you’re the answer man.”
    She heard footsteps and soon saw John alongside her bed. “I don’t have all the answers, but a few perhaps. A Witness is someone appointed to a divine purpose—observing God at work, and then reporting what she has seen.” He coughed and averted his eyes. “She or he.”
    Though Lilly intensely wanted to understand what John and Eve meant when they referred to her as a Witness, his apparent discomfort stopped her. She needs to be told soon, but . . . she is so broken. The conversation now veered uncomfortably close to Lilly’s dreams, to the possibility that her mind was as broken as her body. And also in that moment she realized John’s opinion of her was important, something that made her feel uncomfortably vulnerable.
    “Is Han-el a Witness?”
    John’s lips parted in surprise. “Han-el? Oh no. No, Han-el is a dear friend who has seen me through many wonderful seasons. Painful ones too.” He rested his hand at the base of his throat, then paused. “Ah. They tell me you’re up another degree now.”
    He continued to encourage her, reporting every fifteen minutes the arrival of the next degree, and slowly she could feel the changes. Lilly’s world was incrementally tilting upward. Ata point between degrees six and seven, her body objected. The room reeled and then began spinning as nausea rolled over her like a sneaker wave.
    “Stop!” John yelled. “Let her adjust.”
    She focused her mind on Han-el and his song. Like a magnet, the lingering of Han-el’s lullaby pulled her back into the vivid scenes she had already witnessed.
    The better part of an hour passed before she signaled that her stomach had settled enough for the next elevation. As time and tilt progressed, Lilly realized she was being raised in front of a massive window looking out at a cobalt sky. It was clear for the most part, with an occasional high cloud blowing by, but it reminded her immediately of the places in her dreams.
    “John, do you believe in God?” she asked.
    There was a thoughtful pause before he spoke. “No,” he said.
    “I don’t either.”
    He touched her arm. She hadn’t realized he was right next to her. “Lilly, words like God and believe are often meaningless. I don’t believe in God. I know God! Once you know someone, believing is no longer a concern.”
    Lilly didn’t understand. “Is Han-el God?”
    John’s belly laugh silenced all other sounds in the room. “No, little one. You seem very impressed by my friend, as we all should be. Han-el is one of God’s ministering servants.” He leaned over and whispered, “Han-el is an Angel.”
    A horizon appeared at the bottom of her peripheral vision.Again she experienced disequilibrium and vertigo, and again they stopped the process to wait for her adjustment.
    “If you need to vomit, just vomit,” offered John. “It might make you feel better.”
    “I’d rather die.”
    “It’s not like you haven’t vomited before.” He backed out of view.
    “I hate puking!”
    “Puking? Hah!” he announced to the room. “Puking. There’s a new one.” He rolled it off his tongue as if he were a linguist trying to capture a new sound. “ Pyoo-king . What a great word. All right then, there will be no pyoo-king on my watch, is that understood?” He leaned back into her