Chapter 2 – The Angel
That afternoon, Shalem bade farewell to a woman who had come to pick up a pair of arm bangles. While he wasn't generally in the business of ornaments and finery, it sometimes made for an interesting diversion. Just then, Gaddoni entered his shop and greeted him jovially.
"Shalem, best artisan in the Land of Ishmael!"
Shalem smiled at Gaddoni's generous evaluation of his skills, but inwardly felt that it was a little too generous. The city of Ishmael itself had a relatively small population, at least compared to a larger city like Lemuel, and he was one of only three woodworkers living in the city limits. The land of Ishmael, extending the better part of a day's journey all around the city and encompassing several small villages, had substantially more people, and artisans, and he personally thought that several of them turned out work that surpassed his skill. He swallowed his objection, though, and smiled. It was bad form to refuse a sincere compliment.
"Master Gaddoni. What brings you here?"
"What else, but to inspect the progress of the figure of the great storm god, Shuz, which I have commissioned you to craft for me?"
"Of course! I was working on him just this morning, come and see!" Shalem motioned over to the far side of the stall, about two rods away. He had chosen a light wood that had dark grain through it to represent the figure of Shuz, with his swirling clouds and bright lightning. He was clothed in thunderclouds and stood almost waist-high, and was one of the largest idols Shalem had ever carved. Nothing less for Gaddoni, the most successful horse trainer, and one of the wealthiest private citizens, in the Land of Ishmael.
"But surely he should be complete by now, it has been three weeks!" Gaddoni blustered, gesturing at the blank face and the feet that were still buried in wood. "What has given you so much trouble?"
Shalem was very glad that Gaddoni's anger was just an act. The man, though nearly always jovial, was a good actor, and though he would rage and stamp his feet from time to time, no one could recall ever seeing him genuinely upset. "Master Gaddoni," he replied smoothly, "I wanted the very best wood, so I waited a week after your visit until my monthly journey to the land of Lemuel, in the borders by the seashore, so I could purchase wood from trees that do not commonly grow in the land of Ishmael. In the city of Lemuel, among the strong timbers being readied to build ships, I found this beautiful wood and knew it would be perfect for the aspect of Shuz—-whom you hold in such high esteem."
Gaddoni, as Shalem expected, quickly dropped his look of outrage and smiled broadly. "Just so, just so. Do not let me keep you from your work, craftsman. I will visit again this time next week with my son, Gaddonihah, to inspect how you have finished Shuz, and then load him up and take him to his new place in my home."
Shalem inclined his head and agreed, "It is well. I will be finished by then. And do not forget our agreed price."
"Oh yes, for such a masterpiece as he is sure to be, I feel lucky to have arranged to pay simply two ezroms of silver. Other craftsmen, less scrupulous than yourself," he leaned in and murmured conspiratorially, "would have charged me three." He leaned back. "I will pay you when we come to pick up the statue. My pocket will be much lighter," he chuckled, "but I will sleep deeper with the knowledge that Shuz is keeping my stables safe from harm by wind and thunder. A wonderful day to you, my friend." He turned to leave the shop.
"To you as well," replied Shalem warmly, following him to the door. After Gaddoni departed and his booming voice moved down the street, Shalem hurriedly closed the doors and fastened them on the inside with a weak latch. He had been receiving customers and entertaining visitors off and on all afternoon and had not had the opportunity to relieve himself for several hours, so he turned to the rear of the shop, reaching for his chamber pot.
When he first opened his shop in the Ishmael marketplace, he realized quickly that he could not leave it unattended at random points during the day, and his neighbors should not have to keep watch for him. Therefore, his first major business investment not directly related to his trade was the earthenware pot with its snug lid. He would have used a tightly woven bag or basket, were he not worried about the smell in the heat of the shop; though pottery was rather a luxury item, he felt the chamber pot was worth the three senines of gold he had paid for it.
He was also glad that he had time to relieve himself before Gid came by. Every day, in late afternoon, old Gid would make the rounds with his donkey cart and the artisans and vendors could pay him a leah of silver every other day for him to collect chamber pots, dump them out, and return them in time for closing. It was demeaning work to be sure, especially for the old man whom Shalem could remember had enjoyed a successful career as a professional scribe, but Gid's fingers were no longer nimble and he was glad for any money. It was very little silver, but with so many shopkeepers paying for the service Gid occasionally had some extra funds to hire out the work of digging the disposal pits to the young men of the city, so as to save his back and his pride. What was left of them, anyway.
Shalem finished adjusting his clothes and closed the pot tightly, setting it aside. Sitting on his stool, he took advantage of the momentary quiet afforded by closed doors to run over his list of commissions in his head.
The yoke for the farmer. Three wide bowls to serve food – that commission was from one of the stewards of King Menipacha, the local monarch, and would give his reputation a huge boost if they found the workmanship sufficiently fine. Needless to say, he was being very careful with that order. Two stools for other shopkeepers. Another block and tackle for Nathanelah, who never knew when one of his would break, and had a standing order for a spare. Two buckets – he would need to visit Jacob, the blacksmith, soon and negotiate for iron rings. And finally Shuz, who was looking more impressive by the day. The rest were small things that he could easily do in the mornings before the children woke, or even while walking to and from market.
Satisfied, he moved to open the doors, noting absently that the sunlight filtering through his roof was getting brighter than usual, when he suddenly saw a sharp shadow against the wall of his shop. No, he saw his own shadow being cast against the inside wall of his shop. "Shalem." He spun around.
There, standing in his little shop, was a man. Light was emanating from every feature. Shalem immediately assumed that he was in the presence of a god, and dropped to his knees with eyes downcast. Of all the stories he had heard from his friends about receiving aid from the gods or being punished by them for wrongdoing, none had ever described a personal visitation. As he saw the man's feet, which were bare and standing about a hand's breadth above the floor as if on solid ground, he wondered what this deity wanted with him and why he had deigned to visit. But he did not ask. He did not want to risk offending him.
"Shalem. Be not afraid. Arise, and stand forth." The voice was warm and comforting, not strange or frightening as he had always imagined a god's voice to be. For all their purported involvement in daily life, the gods of the Lamanites had always been, in Shalem's imagination, not quite human. This voice, apart from some awkward speech patterns and odd inflection, was just like any voice he might hear in the streets of town. As the personage spoke, though, Shalem noticed another difference. Even though he spoke quietly, the words pierced him, striking his heart with great force. He had never felt this way before. He knew that he would instinctively want to do whatever the figure said.
He rose to his feet slowly, taking in the appearance of the person that he somehow now knew meant him no harm. The man was clothed in a loose white robe that was long enough to almost reach his wrists and ankles. It was whiter than anything he had ever seen. His hair was white, too, which surprised Shalem, because the man's face was not old. His complexion was much lighter than Shalem's own. Some part of him recognized that with his light skin the man looked rather like one of those Nephite barbarians. Another part of him denounced that suggestion as utterly ludicrous; this glorious personage couldn't have anything to do with those liars.
But suddenly none of those details were important as his eyes caught hold of the piercing gaze that was directed at him, and he couldn't help but return it. The brown eyes of the figure, much lighter than Shalem's own, burned into his very soul. He finally found his voice.
"Who are you?" he asked, feeling surprisingly calm. "Why are you here?"
The man replied, "I am an angel, a messenger from God."
This is different, thought Shalem. He never knew the gods had messengers. "May I ask, from which god?"
"He who sent me is not a god as the gods of thy people, made of wood or stone and crafted by the artifice of man; He is the One and True God, the most Eternal Father."
Shalem was at a loss for words. His racing thoughts had determined that the messenger was from Rahama, his personal patron deity, or perhaps from Shuz, and he was about to be smitten for carving him incorrectly. But of everything that could have happened, he had not expected that.
The angel's filled the void. "The Lord God has seen thy heart and the grace and equity with which thou treatest thy family and thy fellow man. I am sent to tell thee that He is pleased with thy conduct before Him, and He doth commend thee for raising thy family in righteousness."
Shalem's heart swelled with the pronouncement. A messenger from the gods commended him for his actions and told him he was doing well! He began to acknowledge the compliment. "I have done my best to teach my children by the example of Rahama—"
This time the angel cut him off. "Thy children know what is right and what is wrong by thy example. Not by the example of an idol crafted by thy hands. They see thee and thy actions and emulate them. I am come to tell thee that God is pleased with thee and thy house, but not all. For thou dost, with thy house, worship idols, false gods and the images thereof, and forsake the worship of Him, the True and Living God, and the only God."
Shalem was really having a hard time with this. He stumbled backwards until he fell heavily onto his stool, but somehow he maintained eye contact with the man standing in the air. So he, Shalem, was a good man, but the gods that he had been following in order to determine how to be a good man were… false? not real? …dead? No, they had never existed. Then who was this new god and why had nobody ever heard of him? And how had his family been so much more fortunate than their neighbors, if the gods to whom they appealed weren't even there? He wanted to ask, but had no idea how to ask it.
"The Lord God doth command thee at this time to remove the idols and images of these false gods from thy home and thy family, for He saith, 'Thou shalt have no other gods before Me. Neither shalt thou make unto thee any graven image or any likeness of any thing, to bow down to them to serve them, for I am the Lord thy God, who giveth thee breath and blesseth thee with every thing that thou hast.'" The angel's voice had taken on a deeper tone as he quoted the words of the god—no, the God—who sent him, and when he finished, he paused momentarily before continuing. "Shalem, the Lord has blessed thee because of thy conduct and thy desire to do that which is kind and good. It is His will that thou cease thy worship of the idols and false gods of thy people, that He may bless thee and thy family with greater abundance."
Shalem was astonished. Without even asking the question, the angel had given him the answer he sought. That was it, then. His blessings hadn't come from Rahama, not from Puchah, not Elrah or Shuz. A God he had never heard of was the one that had been blessing him all along, and he had never once given sacrifice, never prayed to Him in either supplication or thanks! And for a God to send such a being of glory and power as this angel before him as a messenger, meant the God was even more glorious and powerful! The figure before him already surpassed anything Shalem had ever carved or even imagined.
Shalem would not have believed this news true or even possible, but the words of the angel were imbued with force, a force that something inside him responded to, wanting to obey. He was torn, as a large part of him was resisting, wanting to stay in the paths he knew, but even more of him wanted to follow the directions he was receiving. As he listened to the message, he tried to figure out which part of him was responding to the angel. When he found it, it hit him hard. The same part of him that loved his family and wanted to do good to others was telling him that the words of the messenger were true.
Shalem needed to know more about the Being that sent this angel. If he were anything like the gods he had grown up hearing about, He would have motives for blessing him all this time without any reward. Perhaps He would want payment now. Shalem sincerely hoped not. He opened his mouth and took a breath to ask.
"You wish to know why the Lord has blessed you through thy life." The angel anticipated his question even more blatantly than before, causing Shalem to catch his breath and gape at the figure. In return, he received the first smile since the messenger had arrived. It was small, but it was there, and the angel let it linger a moment, as if in amusement, before continuing. "He is thy God, thy Lord and Redeemer, the Creator of worlds without number. He is the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob, thy fathers. He is the God of thy people, though they worship Him not, and he is the God of the Nephites, thy brethren. He is God over the whole Earth. And thou art His son."
Shalem sat on his stool, electrified. The voice inside him knew it was true. He could not have torn his eyes away from the angel's even if he wanted to.
"-Not after the manner of the flesh," clarified the angel, "but after the manner of the spirit. He is thy Father in Heaven, and His love for thee is great. It is His desire that thou shalt obey all that He commandeth thee and thy family, that He may bless thee further." The angel dropped his smile, becoming somber once more. "Therefore thou must cease this practice of idolatry."
The messenger paused. Shalem asked quickly, "What of my trade? My family needs, I mean, the statues of the gods are a large source of my income."
The angel replied, "The Lord knows of thy trade, and thy livelihood, and he also knows of the hard-heartedness of the Lamanites, thy brethren, in persisting in their idolatrous worship. He shall permit thee to make thine own decisions in thy trade, only if thou wilt carefully follow the dictates of righteousness and stay within the bounds the Lord hath set for thee. But thou must not bring these idols into thine household." His voice turned more stern as he issued a warning.
"If thou wilt ignore the commandment of the Lord in this thing, He shall withdraw His support and His blessings from thee. Forasmuch as thou hast heard the word of the Lord and have received a sure knowledge of His commandments, thou wilt be held accountable for the light and understanding which thou hast received."
Shalem sat, stunned. These were dire consequences indeed. His mind was racing, but he could only think of one other thing to ask. In his astonishment, he could only get two words out, at a hoarse whisper. "Why me?"
"The Lord hath chosen thee at this time, and hath sent me to thee bearing His word, because the time is not far distant that the Lord will proceed to do a marvelous work in this land; yea, thou hast been chosen to prepare thy family, that they may assist in the great work that the Lord will cause to be wrought among thy people. Inasmuch as they are righteous, thy family shall be tools in the hands of the Lord to bring to light the truths of God among this people.
"The day will come, but is not yet, saith the Lord, that the name of God shall be known among this people, and they will turn from their wickedness and idolatry and become a pure and delightsome people. If thou and thy family wilt remain righteous, the Lord shall keep thee and preserve thy family to serve Him, bringing His word among this people."
At these words, the light started to gather from the corners of the room, and coalesce around the immediate person of the angel. He began to ascend, and Shalem halfway thought he would take the ceiling with him. But it was almost as if a passage opened up directly into the heavens that bypassed all physical barriers, and this path the angel took rapidly until he was out of sight.
Shalem found himself looking up at the mottled sunlight coming through the cloth ceiling of the shop. Odd, he couldn't remember falling off his stool. He lay there for a moment and listened to the racket coming from Zoram's loom, but was roused from his position by a slow knock at the door. Rising on unsteady legs, he unlatched the door and came face to face with old Gid. He closed his eyes and ran a hand down his face tiredly. Was it that late in the day already?
"Begging your pardon, master Shalem, and I'm sorry to disturb you, but your door's been closed since I started my rounds today, and you owe old Gid a leah of silver for collection yesterday and today."
Shalem stepped aside as he opened the door, but he couldn't even work up the energy to smile at the old man's odd habit of referring to himself in third person; people joked that it was all those years as court scribe for King Menipacha, having to write his own name so many times that he eventually began speaking like that. Putting on a busy air that looked almost out of place on the aging man, Gid moved around Shalem, who was still leaning on the door, and entered the shop to collect the chamber pot.
"All too often the men in town try to cheat me, they say 'Oh, I paid the last two days in a row, Gid,' but if they think they can trick old Gid they have another think coming. My mind still works, same as it always did." Gid carefully placed the vessel into his low cart as he spoke and turned around, holding out an expectant hand to Shalem. Without thinking, Shalem silently fished in his purse and pulled out the smallest silver coin he had, and handed it to Gid, who finally sensed that Shalem was not feeling up to small talk. Gid tucked the coin away in his own purse, picked up his small switch, and moved off with a "Good day," driving his old donkey down the street.
Shalem shook himself out of his stupor. He hardly realized Gid had even come by. He didn't know if he was thinking very fast or if he was even thinking at all; he just knew that he had to get away. He mechanically packed his tools, even though it was just late afternoon, and closed his shop early.
There was a spot he always went to be alone and think; it was out in the woods. He had to get there, had to escape the noise of the marketplace. In his haste to leave his stall he neglected to even think about his security measures and tied simple knots on each rope on his double doors. He didn't hear the cries of greeting and curious questions from the people around him. Even Zoram asking if he was feeling all right barely registered. He left the city and turned southeast, still carrying his leather bag.
About ten minutes' walk into the forest was a hidden alcove on a ledge by a small waterfall. He hefted himself up a tree growing next to the cliff and stepped from a branch onto the ledge, walking around a bend towards the waterfall as the ledge on the cliff face narrowed and widened again. Here he was cut off from the world; no one could see him unless they looked straight down from the top of the cliff, and few sounds could cut through the noise of the waterfall just a rod away. He dropped his tool bag with a clatter and sat down heavily, leaning his head against the rock and sighing deeply. His mind, seemingly frozen since he had found himself on his back on the floor, finally began to work.
He had been visited. No one else ever had, even after years of prayers and sacrifices and devotions to every god the Lamanites had ever worshipped. That was because it was a messenger sent from another God his people had never heard of. The messenger, the angel, said that God was his Father, and that he was pleased with him, but that in order for his family to continue to be blessed, they had to stop worshiping the gods of their people.
If any man on the street, even Zoram, his closest friend, had told him what he had learned today, he would not, could not have believed. But an angel? A being of power such as that could not be ignored.
He instinctively felt the message was true. And think of the blessings in store – to be a knife, a chisel in the hand of God Himself, and his family with him!
On the other hand, his mind balked at some major problems. The angel had called the Nephites, those pale-skinned barbarians, his brothers! Shalem wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, but he knew he didn't feel good. It had sounded like the Nephites were actually worshiping God already – what was it the messenger had said? God was God of the Lamanites "even though they don't worship Him." And the visitor had made no such comment about the Nephites.
Now he had been chosen, out of everyone in the Land of Ishmael, to receive this visitor. He still wasn't sure why. The whole experience was so alien that even though he felt it was true, he couldn't believe it. Not yet. He didn't know if he ever could. But now that he knew the truth, or what could possibly be the truth but definitely didn't match what he had believed his whole life, could he ever go back to how he had been before?
Shalem didn't know.
As he sat against the rock wall, thoughts chasing each other around his head, Shalem suddenly saw another glowing man descending the same way the visitor to his shop had ascended; in a moment he could tell it was the same angel. The alcove he sat in brightened as the angel fully appeared, once again standing before him, suspended just above the ground. Their gaze connected, as before, but this time Shalem was able to notice other details of the messenger's appearance that had escaped him before, like the way his eyes shone even when he wasn't smiling, and how his hands were quite wide, and almost as calloused as Shalem's own. The angel spoke.
"Shalem. I bring a message from God. He is not a god as the gods worshipped by thy people, made of wood or stone and crafted by the artifice of man; He is the One and True God, the most Eternal Father. He has seen thy heart and the grace and equity with which thou treatest thy family and thy fellow man. I am sent to tell thee that He is pleased with thy conduct before Him, and He doth commend thee for raising thy family in righteousness."
Shalem just sat and listened. He didn't know what it was that he had been expecting, but it wasn't a verbatim repetition. The angel's speech was almost identical, word for word, to his previous message. The only differences were due to the question-and-answer style during the first delivery that was absent this time around. But he figured that there was a reason that the angel was delivering the exact same message a second time, and concentrated with strict attention.
When the angel once again said, "He is thy Father in Heaven, the Father of thy spirit, and thou art His son, and His love for thee is great," Shalem found that he was just as spellbound as he had been the first time. And as he continued without interruption, the messenger reiterated the fact that Shalem would now be held accountable for the commandments that he had received, this time calling it "an eternal law."
The visitor finally paused. Shalem recognized the end of the message. And he believed it. Before, he had been in turmoil and hadn't known what to think, but now, he believed the angel's words. But even though he was sure he would follow the messenger's directions, several things still bothered him. This was his only opportunity to ask questions before the angel left again. He needed answers.
"Why me?" he blurted hurriedly. "Why have I been chosen, instead of someone else?" He suddenly realized how that must sound to the messenger, so he frantically tried to backpedal. "I mean, I'm not resenting it or anything, I-I-I feel honored—"
The angel silenced him with a gesture and, using the same hand, pointed towards Shalem's leather bag that was sitting on the rock nearby. "Behold, thou art a woodworker. Dost thou not have many tools? And when thou findest that one of thy knives hath lost its edge, dost thou not reach for another? When thou needest thy carving to be delicate and refined, dost thou not choose the blade that doth best suit thy task? But if that blade hath worn dull, is there not another knife among thy tools upon which thou mayest depend?
"So is the Lord: He hath chosen thee to help Him accomplish His work among the people. Thou art best suited to His purpose, thee and thy family. But do not suppose that if thou fail in thy charge, He may not choose another to do His work."
Shalem licked his lips, suddenly nervous. "What would happen to me? If I should fail?"
The angel looked at him encouragingly. "Know this: that the Lord giveth no commandment unto the children of men, save He shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which He commandeth them. If thou wilt trust in the Lord, and press forward in Him, He will lighten thy burdens and illuminate thy path. This is His promise to thee, and to all men.
"However, if thy choice is to set aside His counsels and set at naught His promises to thee, then the covenant which He doth make with thee this day is broken. In that day, it would be better for thee if thou had not heard these His words to thee, for He will withdraw His blessings and His support from thee, every whit. He will leave thee to thyself, to draw upon thine own strength, as do thy brethren. And He will take away the light and guidance which thou hast previously enjoyed, as thou wilt have proven thyself unworthy of His counsel."
Shalem considered this. "So," he began haltingly, "if I try my best and do everything God tells me to, I'm almost guaranteed to succeed?"
The angel smiled again, and he felt in his heart the unmistakable confirmation that that was correct. His soul almost burst with joy. He knew he could go forward with confidence and be sure to succeed. But he had something else to ask.
"One other thing. What did you mean, the Nephites are my brethren? If that's true, why are we always at war?"
The angel paused, as if in thought. Shalem thought that perhaps he would refuse to answer, but then the angel asked, "Dost thou believe that which I have told thee of the greatness of God, and of the goodness of God, and of His love for thee?"
Shalem barely hesitated before the answer came to him; his belief was much stronger, having just heard the message a second time. "Yes," he said, nodding. Then he felt awkward just leaving his answer at that; it didn't sound nearly formal enough. He added "I believe your words."
The angel nodded, as if he had come to a decision. "Knowest thou the history and the origins of thy people, of thy father Lehi who came out of Jerusalem with his family, following the commandment of the Lord?"
Shalem had heard stories, of course, and knew of Lehi, Nephi, Laman, and the others traveling here from the Land of Jerusalem. As he had been taught as a child, when Father Lehi died, the rule of the family should have passed to the eldest son, Laman, but the youngest, Nephi, had usurped the leadership from his elder brother. Laman, his brother Lemuel, and several of their friends had confronted Nephi about it, and he and his supporters had fled into the wilderness. The Nephites had been at war with the Lamanites from that day to this, and any Nephites found in Lamanite lands were still sentenced to death for being 'children of a liar.'
But with everything Shalem had learned today, he wasn't sure of anything any more. It didn't quite match what the angel had told him, and he had never heard of Lehi being led by God to do anything. He phrased his careful response formally, to alleviate some of the awkwardness he felt conversing with the heavenly figure. "I have heard the story, as it is told among my people, but I fear by what I have learned today that it is in error."
The messenger gave another small smile, and then began his tale. "Many generations ago, Lehi was a prophet in the land of Jerusalem, beyond the sea, called by God to proclaim the word of the Lord to His people. But the inhabitants of Jerusalem would not hear, and plotted to take away his life.
"Being warned of the Lord, he fled into the wilderness, bringing with him his family, his sons and his daughters. His sons were called, beginning with the eldest, Laman, Lemuel, Sam, and Nephi. He also brought with him a near kinsman, Ishmael, and his family, and a man called Zoram. Most importantly, he had with him the records of his people, engraven upon plates of brass. These contained the words of the Lord to many prophets, and also a genealogy of his fathers.
"His family was not without strife. Nephi loved the Lord, as did his brother Sam, and Zoram, but Laman cared not for sacred things. Lemuel, being weak, followed Laman, as did the sons of Ishmael. Laman murmured often in complaint and attempted several times to take the life of his brother, Nephi.
"After traveling many days in the wilderness, and crossing the ocean in a ship built by the hand of Nephi under direction from God, they sailed out of the West Sea and lived in a land they called Lehi-Nephi. Soon, Lehi died. When the Spirit of the Lord continued to constrain Nephi to call his family to repentance, Laman again tried to murder his brother, and Nephi departed into the wilderness, taking with him his family, and Sam, and Zoram, and their families.
"Nephi was a prophet and guided his people; this land has not yet known a greater. He taught his people to worship the Lord, while Laman and his children forsook their God and turned instead to idolatry. They began to hunt beasts of prey to prove that by their strength they needed not to rely on the Lord. And because of the hatred of Laman for his younger brother who was favored by both the Lord and their father, Lehi, there has been almost continual war for four hundred years."
The angel looked somewhat sad as he went on, "Had Laman and Lemuel trusted the Lord as did Nephi, they and their people would not have forsaken the blessings of God. Thou, Shalem, hast reclaimed these blessings for thyself and thy family because of thy righteousness, as has every righteous individual since the creation of the world. And thy family shall receive blessings still greater if they continue in righteousness and follow the commandments of God."
Shalem was nodding along, following the story. The version he had heard as a boy had obviously been corrupted over the years. He wondered that he was able to accept such a radically different tale than had been told by firelight all his life. But he knew, after this second visit from the heavenly messenger, he would believe in his heart anything the angel said. He didn't know how, but he knew it to be true.
"Now go," concluded the angel, "return to thy family. Teach them what thou hast learned here. If thy love for them remain true they will heed thy words and one day follow thee into a land of promise."
By the time the angel had finished speaking, the light in the alcove had already gathered back around him and he was once again ascending.
It was then that Shalem noticed that the sun was quite low in the sky. Abish would be wanting to go to the shop to meet him at sundown, and if she and Kalara found it empty and closed, he knew his wife would worry. Fighting off his fatigue, he hefted his tool bag to his shoulder and began to make his way home to catch them before they left.
Shalem was nervous. Would his family believe him? The children might, easily enough, though Abish would before Noah, he knew.
But he was worried about Kalara. She grew up the daughter of a traveling merchant, and because of her father's long absences when she was young, she and her mother had become quite dependent on their devotions to Aganon, the god of speed and travel. She had trusted Aganon to bring her father back safely, and he always had returned without incident. Strong proof in the mind of a concerned daughter.
It had been hard enough before they were married to convince her to center their family's worship around Rahama instead of Aganon; if he were to tell her that the angel had said that all the gods of the Lamanites were false, and they were to worship another, he doubted she would take the news well. He tried to plan how to present the news to her and the children, racking his brains to figure out how to ease the devastation he knew his wife would feel.
A/N: Those who have caught any parallels with the experience of Joseph Smith can probably guess at least one of the events of the next chapter. ;)
I worked hard at the angel's sentence syntax. Is it any more or less awkward than you would expect?
I'd ask for bets as to Kalara's reaction, but since I'm posting Chapter 3 at the same time the point is pretty much moot.