Bless the Child (71 page)

Cody
smiled at Mim from underneath the pink-and-white-checkered coverlet; it was so good to be home. So good to be loved so completely.

Mim blew her a last kiss from the doorway, and closed the bedroom door behind her. Cody listened for the old familiar football on the stair. She knew everyone they loved had come to their house for a special dinner party, tonight; Cody could hear the soft music playing on the stereo, and knew that tomorrow Maria Aparecida would have saved the best goodies from desert, for her lunch.

Cody waited until she was certain Mim was downstairs, then she slipped out of bed, and walked to the window. It was a beautiful clear night; the stars twinkled brilliantly as fireflies, and a gentle breeze billowed the organdy curtains, where Mim had left the window open a crack for fresh air.

The child stood for a long moment, staring up at the crescent moon outside, seemingly lost in reverie. She had quite a lot to think about.

Finally, she held out her hand, so that a moonbeam fell across the open palm. She murmured a few words in an ancient tongue; there was no longer the lisp of childhood in her speech, but rather, the authority of one who knows her mission.

The Isis Amulet materialized solidly in her little palm; the fire of its rich gold and precious gem exterior gleamed with a most unearthly radiance. Cody smiled. It was a sweet, well-satisfied smile, thousands of years older than her small body.

“These humans have great potential, Mother,” she murmured proudly. “You did well to believe in them.”

Then, with a gesture only she had ever known, the Isis Messenger tucked the Amulet away, somewhere in the Cosmos, for safekeeping.

The time of Choice would one day come again.

She would be ready.

Writing novels tends to be a labor of love, and not only on the part of the author. Remarkable people give of their expertise—very often with profound generosity. I sincerely hope that each who contributed so munificently to
Bless the Child
will understand both my gratitude, and my pleasure at having shared the journey with them.

Raphael and Linda Benaroya, whose loving and bountiful sharing of knowledge about Judaism, Israel, and many other intriguing subjects helped me enormously in the creation of both Abraham’s and the Rebbe’s characters.

Reverend Dudney Breeze, who enthusiastically discussed theology and the war between Good and Evil, while we practiced Wing Chun at 7:00 A. M.

Calasanz, my remarkable marital arts teacher, who made me realize how few limits there are on the human spirit.

Detective Sergeant William J. Cavanaugh, who not only advised me on police procedure, but showed me so clearly the complexity, tough-mindedness, code of honor, and all-round good-heartedness that would be the component parts of Malachy Devlin’s, character.

K.T. Maclay, whose great and loving knowledge of all things Brazilian gave Maria Aparecida both her name and her lovely spirit.

Josseph and Alice Rynear, dear friends and spiritual mentors, whose encyclopedic knowledge of both esoteric doctrine and Universal Truth, and whose personal loving kindness contributed far more than simple information to my tale. Their spirits shine in Ellie.

Dr. Francis Virgulak, whose firsthand knowledge of both the Catholic priesthood and exorcism were seminal to the creation of Father Peter’s character. And whose generous sharing of experience and wisdom added a dimension and insight that was rare and beautiful.

Rabbi Mordecai Weiss, whose fascinating and enlightening conversations on both the letter and the spirit of Judaism and Kabbalah contributed greatly to my spiritual education.

Dr. Jeffrey Zimmerman, who not only advised on Maggie’s Chinese treatment plan in my story, but kept my own energy in balance, as I worked.

I sometimes think my family lives my books as much as I—they give me so much of love and help along the way.

Connacht Cash, my sister and mainstay, who is always the one to be counted on, the one who understands without words, the one who comes through with magic in the clinches. No loving thanks could possibly be enough.

Dakota, my beloved daughter, who has brought joy and illumination to every hour of our life together, and who continues to amaze me with every new year and every new manifestation of her spirit.

We gratefully acknowledge the following sources:

“And life goes on forever like the gnawing of a mouse” from “Lament” by Edna St. Vincent Millay. Copyright 1921, 1948 by Edna St. Vincent Millay. “Life goes on; I forget just why” from “Ashes of Life” by Edna St. Vincent Millay. Copyright 1917,1945 by Edna St. Vincent Millay. Both from
Collected Poems,
HarperCollins. Reprinted by permission of Elizabeth Barnett, literary executor.

Excerpt from “The Marrow” from
Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke.
Copyright
©
1962 by Beatrice Roethke, Administratrix of the Estate of
Theodore Roethke
. Used by permission of Doubleday, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. By permission also of Faber & Faber Ltd.

The lines from “ my father moved through dooms of lover” are reprinted from
Complete Poems,
1913-1962, by E. E Cummings, by permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation, Copyright
©
1923, 1925, 1931, 1935, 1938, 1939, 1940, 1944, 1945, 1947, 1949, 1950, 1951, 1952, 1953, 1954, 1955, 1956, 1957, 1958, 1959, 1960, 1961, 1962 by the Trustees for the E. e. Cummings Trust. Copyright
©
1961, 1963, 1968 by Marion Morehouse Cummings, Reprinted also by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.

Excerpt from
Cults that kill
by Larry Kahaner. Copyright
©
1988 by Larry Kahaner. Reprinted by permission of Warner Books, Inc.

Excerpts from
kabbalah
translated by Gershom Scholem. Copyright
©
1974 by Kater Publishing House Jerusalem Ltd., P.O. Box 7145 Jerusalem, Israel.

Cathy Cash Spellman is the author of five New York Times and International Bestsellers. Her books have been sold in 22 countries, and her novel
Bless the Child
was a Paramount movie. She invites you to visit her website.

www.cathycashspellman.com

Jacket design by Dakota Cash

Author photo by

Dakota Cash

www.dakotacashphotography.com