JUL, AUG, SEP 2025 VOLUME 18 Issue 3
“Heads up!”
The brown sphere smacked the young girl in her bronzed shoulder, causing her to drop her water jug. She cursed as the clay crashed against the ground and water flowed across the path. “What was that?” She bellowed as her eyes scanned for the source of the attack.
I jogged over to her and snatched the orb off the ground. “I call it a ball,” I said smiling. “I took some leather and stuffed it with rice and chicken feathers. Then I sewed it shut.” I puffed out my chest with pride. “Me and my boys use it to play games.”
She looked at me incredulously. “I don’t care about that! Why did you hit me with it? Do you know how long it takes to carry water from the river?”
Poor girl, I thought. “Maybe you don’t know who I am,” I said to her, still displaying my award-winning smile. “My name is Enoch. My father named our town after me.”
The girl was now kneeling on the ground collecting the shattered clay pieces she would have to bring back to her family instead of water. “Of course, I know who you are,” she shrieked. “Everyone knows who you are. You’re the son of the man who split up our family. I wasn’t born yet when it happened, but my mother told me how she had to leave her favorite cousin and best friend because of your father. Do you honestly think you did something to earn your place in this town? Am I supposed to be honored to be in your presence?”
My smile faltered. “Most girls would be.”
She looked up at me. “Do you even know my name?”
“No.” I paused. “Should I?”
A sigh rumbled from the girl’s throat. “There’s not so many people in your town that you couldn’t learn our names, but I can tell we’re not that important to you,” she said with disgust.
“Whatever,” I said and turned away from her. “I don’t have to take this.”
I went back to my friends, who had been watching from the field. “Doesn’t look good,” Jerrin teased. “What happened? Did you finally find a girl who didn’t know you?”
“Or did she just not care?” Sachar laughed.
“Forget her,” I said tossing the ball to them. “I have an idea. Let’s go tip over the cows.” They cheered in agreement, and we began to head toward the pastures.
As we walked, I could hear something that filled me with malice. “Master Enoch, Master Enoch!” That voice could be heard in the distance, gaining quickly. That sickening, pathetic voice that seemed to stalk me every time I was trying to have fun. It was a voice that could only mean one thing: my parents wanted to see me.
We didn’t bother to slow our pace as Gephaniah approached from behind, still calling my name. When he finally caught up with us, he jumped in our path to force us to stop walking. A grumble escaped my lips. “What do you want, Gephaniah?” I said with gritted teeth.
He held up a hand while he stooped slightly, panting with the other hand on his knees. “Your father,” he gasped, “sent me to find you.”
“Of course, he did.” I muttered. “I’ll see you guys later,” I said to my friends and turned around.
“See you later, alligator!” Sachar announced.
“After a while, crocodile!” Jerrin chimed in with a snicker.
“That’s still not funny,” I told them as I walked away.
I took the two mile walk back to Enoch at a leisurely pace despite Gephaniah’s attempts to rush me. I was no doubt in for another speech upon my return. Father often told me about my responsibilities as the future leader of our people, followed by my mother lecturing me on my future as a husband and a father. Then would come the usual explanation that these lectures were not a punishment and they only told me these things because they wanted me to be better than them.
Eventually, I passed through the flap into my father’s mud brick home, the first and largest in the community. He stood a few feet away entrenched in a conversation with a man I didn’t recognize. The man was taller than anyone I had ever seen with pale skin and hair black as a raven. His muscles bulged, filling out the foreign robe he wore.
“Interesting, isn’t he?” A female voice whispered from behind me.
“Yes, Mother.” I drawled, turning toward Lilith. She had brought in a clay bowl filled with peeled orange slices. “Who is he?”
“He says his people are called the Nephilim,” she told me. “They live in the east. He came upon us while he was traveling. He says that he wants to learn everything about us.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. How can there be others? I thought God only created Grandfather Adam and Grandmother Eve.”
“Well, you can see him with your own eyes,” she said. “I suppose it was arrogant of us to think we were the only ones.”
“But does that mean God lied to us? Or did Grandfather lie to us?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I can only believe what I see and hope we find out the truth one day.”
My father finally noticed that I had come home and waved for me to join them. “Enoch,” Cain said as he put an arm around me, “I’d like you to meet our new friend, Azazel.”
“It is wonderful to meet you.” Azazel greeted me with a thick accent before he grabbed my hand and squeezed it with inhuman strength.
“Ow.” I pulled back quickly and rubbed the pain in my bones.
Azazel and Cain both chuckled. “I apologize,” the large man said. “Everything we Nephilim do is to show who is the strongest. It is habit. I just did the same to your father when we met.”
“It’s true,” Cain said as he rubbed his sore hand. “Azazel tells me that none of us could compete with even the weakest Nephilim.”
“No offense,” Azazel said with a smile.
“Offense taken.” I mumbled. “Why did you send Gephaniah for me, father?” I asked loudly before either of them could try to interpret my grumblings.
“Right!” He responded, extending one finger in the air like he was testing the wind. “I would like you to give Azazel the tour of our little slice of Earth. I’m sure you know all the best spots to show him. He’s very interested in learning about us.”
“What?!” I exclaimed. “That’s not my job. Why don’t you do it? Or Mother?”
“Your father is 150 years old.” Azazel interjected. “I am much more interested in hearing the opinions of the youth of your community. You are the future. I would very much like to hear from you.”
I wanted to argue and continue to search for any excuse to get out of this, but the man had a point. “Okay… I can show you a few things.”
“Excellent!” Azazel clapped his hands. He picked a few orange slices from the bowl, which derived a proud smile from my mom. “Shall we go?”
I decided to guide Azazel back to where I had left my friends. We made much better time than I had with Gephaniah due to the Nephilim’s long strides. I was nearly at a jog having to take three steps for every two that Azazel took.
We found Jerrin and Sachar creeping up on a cow in the pasture. The Nephilim stared at their strange behavior. “What are they doing?” He asked me.
“Well,” I said with a snicker, “I’ve been trying to convince them that it’s fun to tip over cows. So, while that cow is eating grass, they’re going to try to knock it over.”
“I don’t think they can do that.” Azazel responded.
I attempted to contain my laughter. “They can’t, but it’s going to be fun to watch them try.”
We maintained a good distance from the action as Azazel and I observed my friends studying the great beast chowing down on lush, green grass. Suddenly, Jerrin ran at the creature and smacked shoulder first into its side. The cow turned its head to see Jerrin land on the ground as if he had tried to tackle a boulder. Not to be dissuaded, Sachar took a more thoughtful attempt at the great beast. While pushing his shoulder into its hide, he began to pull at its back leg to try to throw it off balance. His efforts were met with a mighty moo and the cow shook him off before galloping away.
I tried to catch my breath from my laughter as my friends laid on the ground breathing heavily. “I don’t understand,” Azazel said.
“It was just a joke.” I told him. “I wanted to see if they would do it.
“Oh yes, I understand that part, but why would you want to hurt such a magnificent creature?”
I gave him a quizzical look. “It’s a cow.”
“Does it not give you clothes?”
“Well, yeah…”
“And milk?”
I snorted so forcefully that I started choking. “We only drink milk from our mothers,” I said after wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “And even then, we stop when we’re very young.”
Azazel gave me an incredulous look. “You’ve never drunken milk from a cow?”
I wasn’t sure how to react. It sounded disgusting, but Azazel acted as if I was the weird one. “Well… no.”
The Nephilim grinned. “Then we must change that.” He looked around and targeted a girl carrying a jar to the river for water. Azazel rushed over to her, and out of curiosity I followed.
Seeing this unfamiliar, oversized man coming at her with such speed, the girl naturally began to shrink away, clutching her jar. Azazel stopped and presented himself with a low bow. “Do not be afraid.” He announced in a voice possessing more charm than I believed to be humanly possible. “My lady, may I ask your name?”
“Ha…Hannah.” She responded.
“That’s a lovely name,” Azazel told her. “Hannah, if you would be so kind as to allow me to borrow your jar, I will gladly show you, as well as my friend here, something you have never seen before.”
Her brown eyes traveled from Azazel to me and back again. It was then that I realized this was the same girl whose jar I had broken this morning. “He’s your friend?”
Not knowing which one of us she was talking to, Azazel and I both responded. “Yes.”
She thought for a minute, studying the Nephilim’s smiling face. Then, she handed him the jar. “Wonderful!” Azazel pronounced gleefully. “Now watch.”
He made his way to a nearby cow and placed the jar directly under her. He then proceeded to squeeze the udders in a massaging way, directing the milk it produced into the jar. The sight of the process was both interesting and sickening to watch.
When he was satisfied, Azazel picked the jar back up and brought it to me. Extending it with both hands in my direction, he said, “Drink.”
