James BeauSeigneur: In His Image James

"Why don't you take a few days and go stay at the house in Maryland? In fact, if you don't mind the company I'll go along with you." It had been nearly six months since Decker had visited the house in Derwood. He wanted to make sure that it, and more importantly the grave of Elizabeth, Hope, and Louisa had been well cared for by the agency he had hired to see to the property.

"Thanks, Decker, but I'd like to get as far away from the U.N. as possible. Normally I'd go to Rome, but if I go there, the reporters will be on me about this vote before I've even hit the ground. And frankly, I'd rather not face President Sabetini right now." Decker started to make another suggestion, but decided that it was probably best to stay quiet and let Christopher think. Christopher stared out the window. Decker had never seen him look so distraught. It seemed there must be more to this than Christopher was saying.

"Christopher," Decker asked, after a moment, "is there something you're not telling me?"

Christopher looked at Decker, his face filled with anxiety and trepidation. It was as though Decker had seen something that Christopher himself did not want to admit, but could no longer deny. "I have this feeling," Christopher began uncomfortably, as he shook his head again, apparently unsure of what the feeling meant, "that something is about to go terribly wrong; that this is just the beginning; that Moore and Brooks are going to be responsible for some terrible tragedy. And I am helpless to try to stop it." Christopher paused, but Decker had nothing to say. "Am I wrong to want to get away?" Christopher continued. "To leave it behind me for a while?"

"No, of course not," Decker answered reassuringly. "We all have to get away sometimes to think."

"Maybe I'm just spoiled. I've never really faced a problem I couldn't handle. For the first time in my life I have no idea what to do."

Decker started to say, 'welcome to the human race,' but decided it was better left unsaid.

"I know this is going to sound strange," Christopher said finally, "and I really can't explain why, but for some reason I feel I need to go to Israel."

"Israel?" Decker echoed in surprise.

Christopher shrugged his shoulders. "I just have a feeling that maybe I'll find some answers there."

The Reason for It All

December 10,2020 – Tel Aviv

The cold, arid, morning air of Tel Aviv quickly absorbed the moist breath of Decker Hawthorne and Christopher Goodman as they left the terminal at David Ben Gurion Airport and hailed a cab. With his attention on the taxi, Decker did not even notice the two uniformed police officers who ran out the door of the terminal behind them; nor did he notice the young man who stood off to their right talking to an older couple. Suddenly, though, it became impossible not to notice them. The young man, seeing the police, quickly broke and ran along the edge of the sidewalk between the taxi that had just pulled up and where Decker and Christopher stood. He got no farther. One of the policemen, anticipating his attempted route of escape, grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground right at the feet of Decker and Christopher. That's when Decker noticed the strange blood-red marks on the young man's forehead. For a moment Decker thought the man must be bleeding; as he looked more closely he realized it was writing, almost like finger painting, in Hebrew characters.

There was little time to think about it as the Palestinian taxi driver jumped smartly from his car, took their luggage, and threw it quickly into the trunk. He didn't even seem to notice the police or their struggling captive.

"I wonder what that was all about," Decker said, still watching the action through the window as he and Christopher settled into the cab. "Oh, you mean the man the police were arresting?" volunteered the driver, as he pulled away from the curb.

"Uh… yes," Decker answered, a little surprised. He had really just been thinking out loud and didn't expect an answer. "Did you see what happened?" Decker asked. "He was just talking to some people there in front of the terminal."

"Yes," the driver replied. "HewasKDP."54 The reference meant nothing to Decker. "That's what they do: talk to people. It's 'what they talk about that's the problem. They're very odd. They know things about people; things that people don't want others to know."

The driver seemed to be a rational person, but Decker found it difficult to believe what he was saying.

"I think they're psychic," the driver continued, as he turned onto the highway. "They're not supposed to be around the airport or any of the tourist spots: it's bad for business. But that doesn't stop them." "You said he was 'KDP.' What does that mean?" Decker asked. "Well, that's the English. In Hebrew the letters are KoofDalet Pay. The English is shorter to say than the Hebrew, so most people just call them KDP. Did you see the writing on his forehead?" "Yes, I was wondering about that. What was it?" "I didn't get a good look but it was either the Hebrew characters for Yahweh or Yeshua. Yahweh is the Jewish name for God, and Yeshua is Hebrew for Jesus. All of the members of the KDP have either one or the other."

"So, are they Christians or Jews?" Decker asked. "They say they're both," the driver answered. "Of course the other Jews won't claim them; but many KDP used to be very respected Jews. Some of them were even rabbis, and I heard that one of them used to be an attendant of Israel's High Priest."

"What about the writing? It looked like smeared blood. It appeared to be still wet."

54 Due to a linguistic error, the first printing of In His Image, Birth of an Age, and Acts of God erroneously used KDT.

"Well, they say it's lambs' blood from the sacrificial lambs at the Jewish temple. But whatever it is, it won't wash off. It's like a tattoo. I think it's some kind of permanent dye."

"Are you saying the Israeli government put the mark on the KDP members so that they could keep track of them?" Decker asked.

"Oh, no! The Jews won't even say 'God,' much less write his name. They hate the KDP because they have his name written on their foreheads. What makes it worse is that the Jews say that since the other half of the KDP have Yeshua written on their heads, it's like they're making Jesus out to be equal to God. They tried to get the government to deport all the KDP but no one else wants them either." "So the KDP marked their own foreheads?" "Yes. Well, they claim it was put on them by angels." Decker let out a "hmm."

"It seems stupid to me to put something like that on your forehead. It just makes it easy for the police to spot them."

"What will the police do to the one at the airport?" Decker asked. "Oh, they'll probably hold him for a few days and then let him go. They can't do very much. There's just too many of them. If they arrested all of them, there'd be no room left in their jails for us Palestinians," he added sarcastically. "How many KDP are there?"

"They say there's exactly one hundred and forty-four thousand, but I don't think anyone has actually counted them."

"A hundred and forty-four thousand"^" Decker gasped. "It was very mysterious. It all happened about a year ago. One day nobody had even heard of the KDP and the next day they were all over the place."

"That's incredible." "That's how they got their name."

"I wanted to ask you more about that." By now Decker was leaning forward, his head part way over the back of the front seat to facilitate the conversation.

"Well, in Hebrew the same characters are used for letters and numbers," explained the driver. "For example, the letter tav is also the number nine. So you can add the numbers of the letters in a word. Say you added the letters in the Hebrew word for 'bread;' that would equal seventy-eight. You can add up the letters in any word. The Jews call it Gematria. Some of the Orthodox Jews use it as a way to make decisions, almost like most people in the rest of the world use astrological signs and horoscopes. For instance, some rabbis say that to memorize something you should repeat it one hundred and one times, because when you subtract the value of the Hebrew word for 'remember' from the value of the Hebrew word 'forget' the remainder is one hundred and one. But I think they make up the rules as they go along because a lot of times it doesn't make any sense. Anyway, sometimes a number will also be a word. Like, uh… " the driver tried to think of an example. "Okay," he said after a moment, "the characters used to write the number fourteen spell out the Hebrew word for 'hand.' Of course Hebrew doesn't have any vowels like in English, so you have to use your imagination a little. Anyway, as it turns out, the characters used to write the number one hundred and forty-four thousand also spell the words Koum Damah Patar."55 "What does that mean in English?" Decker asked. "Oh just nonsense. Literally it means 'arise, shed tears, and be free,'" the driver answered. "It's just an easy name for them, I guess. Actually, they can be pretty nice people when they're not preaching at you or telling you about the things you've done that you wish they didn't know about and maybe would rather not think about yourself." "Have you ever talked with one of them?" Decker asked. "Oh, yes. It's probably happened to everyone in Israel at least once. One day I was fixing a flat tire. I had burned my hand the day before and had it bandaged so I was having some trouble. This guy came up, and without asking just started helping me. When I looked up I saw he was KDP. I was surprised but he just kept working." "He helped you change the tire?"