She wondered about her memory. Would it be less painful if she could remember nothing? Was most pain a product of memory? She set herself, then, to think forward, to think of ways to survive. It must be possible. She and the others needn't give up. They could find something between them. Doris, who always talked about death, wasn't looking forward to it, and Marlene was positively furious. Given the will no flood myth would destroy them. Gloria loved the world; and many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. She walked back to the hotel and went in to breakfast to meet the rest who were sitting at a circular table with a mound of croissants in the middle. She slid into her place and started to spread marmalade.
'How can you think of eating at a time like this?' demanded Doris.
'I'm not going to get many more chances to eat croissants, am I? Even if we survive to build a new world it's going to be ages before we can invent them again. That's one of the things about this whole business that really makes me cross. I don't want to spend the rest of my adult life hoeing turnips with poxy tools and having no books to read.'
'It's better than being dead, though, isn't it?' asked Marlene.
'I don't know if it is or not,' interrupted Desi. 'All we'll have to think about is how the world used to be and how it isn't any more. I think that will drive me crazy.'
'You don't know what's going to be left,' insisted Marlene. 'We might find all kinds of things left over, a bit damp probably, but they'll dry. We have to make some effort, not just sit here being gloomy.'
'I feel like I'm at the Last Supper,' moaned Doris.
The orange demon slid out from underneath the croissant plate, glowing very bright. He nipped Doris' arm.
'Just let's get this straight. I'm the one who can time travel and jump ahead of the plot, not you. You can't be at the last supper because we're nowhere near there chronologically. You've got thousands of years to go before you can get into that plot. We've got the Flight from Israel, Daniel in the Lions' Den, all the prophets and a lot of trouble in some place called Bethlehem, to say nothing of the Greeks and the Romans and the Battle of Salamis — which reminds me, Persia doesn't exist yet. And there's another reason,' the creature continued as Doris was about to protest. 'You can't be at the Last Supper because it's breakfast time. How can you hope to break into chronological leaps when you don't even recognise what meal you're eating?'
'Look here,' said Doris, really miffed. 'You wouldn't like to have my job. I always end up playing bit parts, so if I want to indulge myself in a bit of time travel at the end of somebody's book I'm going to do it. Besides, it was a good line and no one would have noticed it if you hadn't butted in.'
Across from her table were a couple of tourists who wanted to know if it often rained so hard in these parts.
'No,' said Desi gently. 'It never has before and it probably won't again.'
They looked rather mystified by her answer and very soon left the room.
Doris continued to glare at the orange demon, who matched the marmalade nicely and knew it. 'Have you got your stores ready?' he asked. 'Plenty of beans, I hope.'
'We've done all that,' replied Gloria, 'but we don't feel too optimistic about our chances. There's a gale blowing and it's cold.'
'Do your best,' soothed the demon. 'Now, hadn't you better go up into the attic? People are going to start drowning soon; you don't want to go before you've even tried, do you?'
'What about you?' Doris wanted to know. 'Where are you off to? Somewhere exotic I'll bet; some book about the inner life. You're not going to hang around in a damp attic, are you?'
'No,' agreed the demon. 'I'm not. I've done what I can for you, and now I have to go and do it for someone else. There's an Irish poet - oh, light years away from here — who needs to be jolted out of reveries about fairy islands and mist. That's where I'm going. Goodbye,' and the creature slipped round the marmalade jar and was gone.
'Elementals,' spat Doris. 'I hate elementals. They're always so superior, always think they can save the world just because they have a way with words. I'm glad it's gone.'
For a moment no one spoke, then they all chattered at once in a flurry of trivial conversation about horses and dogs.
'We'd better move,' said Desi, standing up. 'My feet are wet.'
The hotel was nine stories high, and by later afternoon the waters had reached the seventh. Doris spent most of her time leaning out of the window with a fishing net and a bill hook, catching anything useful. She'd already hooked a whole smoked salmon, various fruits and a couple of garden spades. 'We might need these for our new world,' she explained, hauling them in through the window. 'I don't want to be down on my hands and knees digging like a dog, especially not with rheumatism.'
Desi was wondering about her mother, whose tower would more or less be waterlogged by now. She imagined her clutching her almanac and log table in a welter of uncertainty. It's one thing to be confused in the world's eyes, but to be confused in your own eyes is where the problem starts. All her equilibrium would be floating away along with her husband's rockery. 'If that occurs to her,' thought Desi, 'she'll die happy.'
'Oh yes,' Doris was continuing to whoever was listening, 'before I became an organic philosopher, in the days when I was married, I used to do a lot of fishing. I found it calmed me down. One year I won a prize for landing the biggest swordfish in Marblehead. We painted its bill and hung it up in the living room. I was very proud, but I think that's what killed Samuel, my second husband. He decided to dress up as a swordfish once, when we'd been invited to a fancy-dress party; thought it would make me laugh. Well it did until I realised he was stone dead inside it. He'd suffocated and he hadn't fallen over because the costume was papier-mache and so it held him upright. Only when I said we'd best be going home and he didn't move did I notice something was wrong. And when we got him out and had him examined it turned out he must have been dead since just after the Martini and olives. To think I'd been talking to a corpse all that time. Makes you wonder about yourself, doesn't it? I never went fishing much after that, I didn't feel it was respectful; but I buried him with the swordfish bill, even though I would have liked to have kept it.' 'That's a very moving story,' murmured Marlene...
On board ship things were also very moving. The animals were terrified and rioting and Bunny was convinced that a python had hidden itself in her cabin. She had gone to feed the reptiles and found only one python, which made her suspicious. She peeped in and offered live mice and warm sparrows, but the other python didn't show up. Then back in her cabin, as she was doing her hair, she heard what she described to Noah as a 'slithery noise'.
'What the hell is a «slithery» noise?'
'It's the kind of noise that pythons make,' she said tearfully.
'And how would you know? I suppose you've been flooded loads of times in your life, haven't you? I suppose you've travelled on scores of arks full of animals, so you'd easily recognise a python.' Noah was cruel, because love's young dream seemed a bit thin every now and again.
'I've been on safari,' replied Bunny with dignity. 'I have seen the creatures of the world in their natural habitat and I have certainly heard the slither of pythons before now.'
'You wouldn't know a python if it got up and bit you.' (At this Bunny gave a little shriek.) 'You wouldn't know a python from a dressing-gown cord.'
'I don't care what you say, there's only one python in that cage and there's a slithery noise in my room.'
Noah strode over to the snake cage and lifted the lid. True, he could only see one python. 'What have you tempted it with?' he asked, and Bunny told him. 'Well why not try a rabbit? They like rabbits, you know.'
Bunny picked up a can of linseed oil that happened to be lying by her right hand and threw it at Noah's shiny head. It was a direct hit and the father of the multitudes-to-be collapsed in a heap in front of the snake cage, a large egg-like lump forming on his small egg-like head.
'Oh, what have I done?' wailed Bunny; then to herself, 'I don't care
,' and she flounced out to ask Ham if he wouldn't mind going into her cabin to inspect a slithery noise.
When Noah came to, he considered the incident and decided to put it down to marital nerves. Besides, having a python apparently missing on their first day was a bit worrying. They'd have to talk about it over supper.
'Did you pack those bits of gopher wood I told you about?' Noah asked Japeth, 'because if you didn't...'
'They're here, don't worry; but what do you want bits of old gopher wood for?'
'I'm going to plant them on the top of Mount Ararat when we get off this crazy ship so that future generations can discover them, and then they'll think this thing really happened the way I've told it. I don't want them digging up bits of old fibre-glass and speculating on the validity of the Lord's word. We have to inspire confidence.'
'You're clever, Dad,' admired Japeth. 'You think of everything.'
'It's my job, son. I'm just doing my job.' There was a sudden crash and a lurch and the sound of Bunny screaming in the bathroom, and the ark began to float.
Noah rushed to the porthole and looked out. 'We're off,' he cried. 'The show's on the road. This water must be half a mile high. I can't see the house at all now.' It wasn't half a mile high but it was deep, and up in the heavens the Great One was celebrating.
'No more hymns tonight, you lot,' he said benignly to the angels. 'Go and play football or something. This is a holiday.'
'I think this calls for a drink,' said Noah, smiling. 'Here's to our trip.'
Back in the hotel, the flood had reached the ninth floor and the girls were getting their canoes out, though Doris was still busy adding to their pile of useful things.
'How do you feel about your inner life, Gloria?' asked Marlene.
'I feel I can continue it after the flood,' replied Gloria evenly. 'I can think, I can string sentences together and I hope one day to manage a whole paragraph without losing my theme.'
'Well, I look forward to your moment of continuous prose,' said Marlene in a heartfelt and generous fashion. 'At least you can get on with your projects. My cellulite's going to take over my whole body. I'll be like a piece of discarded orange peel and then I'll get hairy because I've only got enough razors to last a year.'
'Two years,' said Gloria, smiling. 'I packed some too, just to show you that I really do care.'
'You're an angel,' cried Marlene, hugging her. 'In two years I might have reinvented the razor.'
'There's someone out here,' shouted Doris, 'in either a tent or a wedding dress, but I can't tell which.'
The others rushed across to the window and Gloria recognised her mother. 'Hook her in, Doris,' she cried, 'it's my mother,' and Doris swung out with the bill hook and caught Mrs Munde as she swirled past.
'Mother, what are you doing and why are you wearing a wedding dress?'
'I tried to get in touch with you, but I couldn't find you,' shouted Mrs Munde above the sound of the rain. 'A very nice man asked me to marry him and I said yes, what with you being grown up and having a start in films and me only having one arm and not being able to work as a cook. We had the ceremony today, hut during the reception the rain poured in and my wedding cake floated away. My husband wasn't going to let that happen, not when we hadn't even had a slice, so he swam after it, and that's the last I saw of him. Oh I just want to die, but I can't because this dress keeps me afloat. Why's it got so wet all of a sudden? It never used to be like this in August.'
'Mother, the Lord's flooding the world because he says we're all wicked.' Gloria opted for the simple explanation. 'Noah's floating off in that ark-thing full of animals and we're doing our best to survive.'
'I don't believe a word of it!' yelled Mrs Munde. 'It's just a freak of nature, that's all.' At that moment a sudden gust of wind tore the part of the dress attached to Doris' bill hook and Mrs Munde was swept away into the darkening tide.
'Good luck, mother,' shouted Gloria as loudly as she could.
'I wonder if she'll survive,' mused Marlene.
'I wouldn't be at all surprised,' said Gloria gloomily. 'I don't think my mother's prepared to be extinct just yet. She still has that look about her.'
'There's a whole crowd of people coming past now,' said Doris excitedly. 'They're wearing badges and hats. Looks like Noah's flooded a conference.'
The serious people floated past, bewildered.
'Look, look!' Gloria pointed though she could hardly believe it. 'It's Northrop Frye.'
'I'm getting there, I'm getting there,' she called as he came within earshot. 'I read your book and it changed my life.' But he was lost to her in the night and she didn't know if he'd heard. 'Northrop Frye,' she murmured to herself. 'If I die now I'll die happy.'
'Look out,' said Doris again. 'Here's your ma's wedding cake. We'll have that,' and swinging skilfully with her net she landed it clean onto the attic floor. 'It won't keep, but we can have some to start with. I'm going to shut the window now, otherwise it'll start pouring in and we'll be out there ourselves soon enough. Who's going to light the stove and make a cup of coffee?'
'I will,' offered Marlene. 'Oh, coffee. What a terrible goodbye this is going to be,' and she sniffed the aroma of beans as she ground them. 'My mother always smelt of coffee beans. I didn't like her but she smelt lovely. You expect mothers to smell of something domestic, don't you? I don't mean lavatory cleaner or brussel sprouts but coffee or fruit or hot ironing.'
'Hot ironing?' chorused the others, unable to fix this image.
'Well, perhaps not,' agreed Marlene. 'I wonder how they're doing on the ship? I hope they've forgotten something crucial.'
Marlene's wish was granted. Noah had forgotten to charge up the generator and the whole boat was plunged into darkness as soon as the light failed. That meant no 'Saturday Night Theatre' because he'd said they wouldn't need batteries. Bunny was the only one who didn't care. She'd brought candles and she thought they were more romantic anyway. She snuggled up to Noah and asked him if he'd like her to recite one of her novels. She knew all two thousand five hundred of them off by heart.
'Suppose I start with the first one and we just work through? I can do one each evening after supper.'
That'll be nice,' said Noah faintly.
'Yes it will, won't it?' cooed Bunny. 'There's nothing like a good book.'
Noah thought of the rest of his life, and his sons, and he comforted himself with the taste of that vineyard he was going to plant. Then he remembered the python and a faint gleam of hope irradiated his gloomy bosom.
'Perhaps she had heard a slithery noise under her pillow after all-----'
The waters increased and bore up the ark, and the girls in the attic reckoned they'd better be getting into their waterproofs.
'Last cup of coffee?' suggested Marlene.
As they sat around the stove they couldn't help wondering if they'd see each other again. 'Have we all got our lifebelts?' said Gloria.
They checked and they had. Doris held up her cup. 'Here's to the future — a world of fridge-freezers and poetry.'
'And Northrop Frye,' put in Gloria.
'And anti-cellulite cream and disposable razors,' cheered Marlene.
'And the day we rediscover champagne,' said Desi. They clinked their cups together and smiled. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. ...
'Let's cut the cake,' Gloria picked up a knife, 'and celebrate.'
A word from our sponsors:
And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before me; for the earth is filled with violence through them; and, behold, I will destroy them with the earth.
Make thee an ark of gopher wood; rooms shalt thou make in the ark, and shalt pitch it within and without with pitch.
Gardener was very excited. He was to accompany Soames to Ararat to look for the remains of Noah's ark. Soames felt sure it was there and had got all the right sponsorship from all the right foundations. As they set off Gardener asked Soames if he believed in the Bible.
'I
think I do, my boy, I think I do,' and then he didn't say anything else for the whole of the journey except to ask Gardener to pass the salt. When they arrived the sun beat down, and the trek to the top of the mountain was made worse by a sick donkey and sly guides...
And the rain was upon the earth forty days and forty nights.
In the selfsame day entered Noah, and Shem, and Ham, and Japheth, the sons of Noah, and Noah's wife, and the three wives of his sons with them, into the ark;
They, and every beast after his kind, and all the cattle after their kind, and every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth after his kind, and every fowl after his i kind, every bird of every son.
'If it did happen,' began Gardener by way of conversation, 'it must have been awful, all those smelly animals and all that pitch.'
And all flesh died that moved upon the earth...
All in whose nostrils was the breath of life, of all that was in the dry land, died.
'Do you think it really would have killed everyone?' persisted Gardener. 'If it happened at all, I mean?' Soames didn't answer and the patient Gardener finally lost his temper. 'Look here, I know I'm just a junior and jolly grateful to be here, but you haven't spoken to me for three weeks.'
'I'm a man of few words,' replied Soames simply.
Savagely Gardener took out a liquorice stick and chewed on it. He wished he were chewing Soames' hat. He tried to imagine what life must have been like for those people, primitive to start with, but hopelessly impoverished afterwards. He thought of them sitting round their tiny fire perhaps telling one another stories. And he thought of all the ones who must have drowned. There had been a flood around that time, but Gardener didn't think it had much to do with God.
That afternoon they reached the summit and camped for the night. Soames wanted to read and Gardener decided against further conversation. Really, he was a rum chap. You'd expect a bit of encouragement from a famous man..
Boating for Beginners Page 14
