by Susan Korman
Ila was sobbing, her stomach clenched in terror. Noah was too angry; she had no idea what he was going to do. What would happen next?
* * *
Noah stayed out on the deck for a long time. Ila lay curled up on her bedroll, sobbing as Shem and Naameh sat with her.
Naameh stroked her hair. “Try to get some rest, Ila,” she murmured.
“Father will come around,” added Shem. “Perhaps once the baby is born, Father will forget his harsh words and give us his blessing.”
Ila didn’t reply. She could hear the doubt in Shem’s voice, which matched all her own doubts.
Shem covered her with a blanket and told her to sleep. In the corner he and Naameh murmured in low tones. She closed her eyes tightly, shutting out their voices.
Long ago Noah and Naameh had found her, enveloped her, and made her part of their family. But now it felt as if their family was fractured, broken like the earth.
Ham had been swallowed up by bitterness.
And Noah… Ila didn’t know, didn’t understand, his actions, all the burdens upon him.
She buried her face in the blanket. Could this truly be the Creator’s will? she wondered again. The question had haunted her since they had boarded the Ark. Did the Creator really intend to bring such great destruction and suffering to his people? What if… What if Noah was wrong? What if all this time…?
She closed her eyes, trying to sleep. She dozed for a while and then woke up again.
It’s so quiet, she thought. Something had changed… The room was completely silent, completely still.
Then she shot up. “The rain!” she cried. “The rain has stopped! Listen!”
Naameh and Shem were sitting nearby. They listened for a moment. Then the three of them rushed out onto the deck, blinking in the sudden light. The sky and sea had turned from black to gray. For the first day in weeks and weeks, there was light.
Surely this is a sign, thought Ila.
Ham and Japheth rushed out a second later. Ila peered at the far end of the ship, where Noah was kneeling. As he prayed, he stared out at the horizon.
Cautiously, Ila and Shem stepped closer. Now Ila could hear Noah’s prayers, the same words again and again. “I will not fail you… I will not fail you. It shall be done.”
“Father?” said Shem tentatively.
“The rains have stopped,” Ila chimed in. “The Creator smiles on our child!”
Noah turned to them. To Ila’s relief, his tears were gone. But the look on his face sent a new chill right through her.
“The rains have stopped because of your child, yes,” he said slowly. “But He does not smile.”
Noah paused to take a deep breath. “If the child is a boy, it shall replace Japheth as the last man. But if it is a girl…”
Ila felt her heart turn to ice as Noah went on.
“If it is a girl who could mature into a mother, then she must die!”
“Are you mad, Father?” Shem burst out. “You are speaking of my child!”
Noah ignored Shem. His eyes were fastened on Ila.
“Should you bear a girl,” he went on, “in the moment of her birth, I will cut her down.”
9
ILA SAT DOWN AT THE HEARTH, HOLDING THE SACK SHE was stocking with food, her other hand resting on her swollen belly. She’d just felt something sharp within…
A smile slipped across her face. The baby will be here soon.
The months since the rains had stopped had passed slowly, each one seeming to gather more tension and worry.
Sometimes Ila had let herself imagine the child growing in her womb. Perhaps the baby would be a son, strong and fast like Shem with his green eyes and bright smile.
Or she might be a girl, with Ila’s dark hair and eyes, and her thoughtful ways. Someday Ila could teach her how to gather berries and build a cooking fire, how to stitch a shirt.
Ila had also tried to fill her mind with love and hope, as her father had taught her, but Noah’s threats stalked her, day and night. The nights were especially difficult, with all her dark fears rushing in at once. Over these past months, Ila had missed her birth parents more than ever. How she longed to have them here with her now.
The pain had subsided. Ila stood up to finish her task. Then, carrying the sack full of food, she stepped outside. Together she and Shem and Naameh had been making plans. Shem had built a raft from logs scavenged from the Ark.
It sat waiting now at the edge of the ramp, held in place by two ropes.
Naameh and Japheth stood near the ramp.
Ila knew that Naameh never stopped worrying either. Every day Naameh sent out one of the birds from the Ark, hoping it would return with some sign of land, a place to which they could escape. But day after day, the birds came back with no evidence of anything except the endless sea.
Ila looked questioningly at Naameh, who shook her head no. “Nothing,” she said softly.
Ila handed the food to Shem. He was lashing down barrels of fresh water.
“We have to go,” Ila told Naameh. “We cannot wait much longer.”
“Ila…” Naameh ran a hand over her head, distressed. “There is nothing out there, no land anywhere. You have food, water for how long? Weeks? A month?”
“One month,” Shem replied. “We can survive.”
Naameh tightened her lips. “The raft is small, and the sea could grow rough. Please wait. Please wait until a bird comes back with something. Japheth, send the raven again to search.”
Japheth groaned. “He’s too tired, Mother.”
“Then wake another bird!” commanded Naameh. She forced some dried herbs into his hands. “Get one that can find us a home!”
Ila looked around the deck. “Where’s Ham?”
Shem shrugged. “He’s off by himself somewhere, as always.”
Ila hoped Ham would join them soon, at least for a short time. She missed him, and their time together was precious now.
Just then Noah emerged from inside the ship. Ila saw him watching them. He had seen the raft, he knew their plans. Ila stared back, keeping a protective hand on her belly. His eyes were dark and hard to read.
“No,” she said abruptly. “We cannot wait, Naameh. The baby is coming. We must leave today.”
She lifted her eyes back to Noah. For a moment he met her gaze. Ila did not flinch or look away. Finally, he did, turning around and disappearing back inside the Ark.
* * *
Working fast, Ila helped Shem finish loading the raft. They tied their bundles of food and some spare clothing under a tarp. Then they gathered a few more things.
When they were finished, Ila turned to Naameh. It was time to say goodbye.
Tears streamed from Naameh’s eyes. “Take care of that baby,” she managed to say.
Ila hugged her. “I will.”
Shem tried to smile. “Do not be afraid, Mother,” he said. “We will see each other in the new world.”
Suddenly Japheth spoke. His eyes were on something behind them. “Father?”
Ila spun around. Noah stood above them on the roof of the Ark.
Shem pulled her toward him protectively.
Noah looked at Naameh, who glared at him. Then he tossed a bag onto the raft below. Ila screamed as the raft burst into flames. Tzohar? Had Noah thrown tzohar?
Shem was watching the raft burn in horror. “No!” he cried.
Noah leaped down from the roof, landing on the ramp. He reached down with his knife and sliced through the restraining ropes on the raft.
Shem looked distraught. “I thought you were good. I thought that was why the Creator chose you, Father!”
Noah shook his head. “You have it wrong, son. He chose me because he knew I would complete the task. Nothing more!”
Ila stood next to Naameh, who was watching in disbelief. Dimly, Ila knew Naameh was saying something. But an odd sensation was distracting her. She gasped as she realized that water was trickling down her leg.
She cried out, and Naameh saw what was happen
ing. “It’s your time, Ila,” she said urgently. “Come with me!”
Shem and Naameh began leading Ila back to the hearth. As she walked between them, Ila couldn’t help taking a final look back at Noah. He stood alone. Behind him the raft that Shem had built for their escape was burning and crumbling, flaming bits of debris falling into the sea.
* * *
Inside Naameh and Noah’s tent, Naameh covered Ila with a blanket. Then Naameh felt Ila’s belly.
“You’ll be all right, daughter.”
“Please keep the baby inside,” Ila pleaded with her. “Where it’s safe. Don’t let Noah—”
Naameh put a finger on Ila’s lips. “Your baby is coming,” she said. “Don’t think about anything else.”
Ila winced as another strong contraction came. She closed her eyes, riding the waves of pain as they came and went. Please let my baby be safe. Please let my baby be safe.
Shem stood guard outside the tent holding his spear.
More contractions gripped Ila. Naameh squeezed her hand as she called out in pain.
Hours passed. When the pains came, Ila kept her eyes on Naameh’s face as Shem’s mother gently whispered encouragingly to her. She thought of Shem and her birth parents and Ham and Japheth, all the people she loved. Even Noah. But she couldn’t let herself think about the baby right now… she was too afraid, too worried about Noah’s terrible threats, and what he would do.
From outside the tent, the women heard roars and a loud bang. Naameh shot a worried look at the tent entrance and then looked back at Ila.
“You are doing well, daughter. It won’t be long now.”
A new pain tore through Ila and she let out a moan. Another contraction came, and another.
“Now, Ila!” said Naameh suddenly. “Push!”
Ila obeyed. As the contractions came, Ila pushed again and again until…
A loud cry filled the air. At the sound, Shem rushed into the tent. He looked at his mother. She quickly wrapped the baby in a blanket and placed it in a basket on the floor.
“Boy or girl?” he demanded. “Which one?”
Ila watched Naameh’s face. She wanted to know too. Naameh didn’t answer him right away.
What’s wrong? thought Ila. Why isn’t she…? Suddenly Ila felt more pains. “Naameh,” she began. “I…”
“What’s happening?” Shem asked in a panic. “What’s going on?”
Ila couldn’t speak.
Naameh’s face had turned white. “There’s another one coming,” she said.
“What?” said Shem. “Two babies?”
“Yes, twins!” Naameh said. “Two babies, my son! She turned back to Ila. “Push, Ila.”
Ila obeyed, pushing again. Soon another child emerged and cried its first breath.
Shem glanced at his mother who was holding the second baby. “Well…?”
Ila was holding her breath. She kept her eyes on Naameh’s face, waiting for the answer.
Naameh looked at the infants, and then Ila saw her face fall.
A scream had gathered in Ila’s throat even before Naameh spoke.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Naameh murmured. “The babies are sisters.”
“No!” Ila screamed. “No!”
Shem moved to Ila’s side and grabbed her hands. He kissed her tears and took a long, deep breath.
“Where’s Noah? Where’s Noah?” Ila demanded again and again. “Keep him away! Keep him away from our daughters!”
“He will not touch them,” Shem said fiercely. “I will make sure of that.”
A new fear gripped Ila as she saw Shem pick up his spear again. “Shem!” she cried.
But it was too late. Shem was already racing through the Ark to find his father.
* * *
Ila sobbed and the babies wailed. Somehow Naameh had managed to stay calm. “You must nurse them now,” she told Ila.
Ila nodded, and Naameh helped her to lift the babies to her breasts. Her mind was racing.
What was happening between Shem and his father? Could Noah be stopped without anyone being harmed? How could they protect their babies?
From far away she heard yells and loud bangs. She and Naameh exchanged worried looks. Japheth was with Naameh now, but neither of them had seen Ham for some time.
Suddenly, there was a loud scraping sound and the huge ark lurched violently. As the ship bounced and tilted, Ila held her daughters tightly. The sound of wood splintering filled the air.
Naameh gasped and rushed to look outside. “The Ark struck land!” she cried. She took a baby from Ila and bundled her up tightly. She did the same with the other infant. “We must find a safe spot for you now, daughter. A safe spot for all of you.”
* * *
Ila carried one baby while Naameh held the other as they made their way to the roof of the Ark.
“Stay here, and don’t move until I return,” Naameh ordered. “I will see what is happening with the men and come back to let you know.”
Ila nodded, too frightened and exhausted to think for herself at the moment. She clutched the babies to her chest, praying softly. Let us be safe. Let us be safe…
A brisk sea breeze stirred the air. Ila shivered, though she couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion or the cold. Maybe it was both.
She gazed down at the babies, overcome with love. They were beautiful, tiny fists and dark eyes… Each had a patch of light hair.
What a miracle, she thought, rocking them gently. She wished Shem were here with her now. Worries rippled through her. Was he safe? Would he harm Noah?
Ila wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a shout rose from below.
“It’s a boy!”
That’s Naameh, Ila realized. And then she heard Noah’s voice.
“Move away,” he ordered. Then there were his footsteps.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
One of the babies squirmed in Ila’s arms. “Hush, little one,” she murmured. “Please don’t cry.” Desperately, she tried to soothe her. Then the other baby woke up and began to cry.
No… no… Ila thought in desperation. Frantic, she was about to try to nurse them.
But then another shout came from below.
“No!” Naameh moaned. “No, Noah! You can’t touch them. They are beautiful!”
“They?” Noah echoed. “Are you telling me there are two?”
“You can’t kill them!” Naameh pleaded with him. “You can’t!”
Now Ila could hear his steps. He was coming up the ladder, coming closer and closer to her and her infants with every step.
Ila’s heart pounded in her chest, her prayers replaying again and again as she sobbed. Please keep us safe. Please keep us safe.
Around her the wind picked up, and suddenly she thought of Methuselah and his blessing that day in the forest.
What had Noah once said to her…? It was the day she’d asked him about a wife for Ham. He’d said that she was a precious gift. Ila looked at her daughters. Would not he see these babies, too, as a precious gift?
All at once the air grew still. Ila closed her eyes, feeling her heart slow too. She breathed slowly, in and out, in and out, crying still but paying no attention to the sounds behind her, Noah limping toward her.
In her arms, the babies were still crying. Are they hungry? she wondered. Or could they could sense all the madness and violence around them?
At last he reached her.
Ila spoke softly. “Noah, please. These are my children. Your grandchildren.”
“I will not be stopped.”
Ila turned to look at him. His clothes were torn, and he was wounded, bruised, and bloodied by whatever had happened below with Shem.
Where is Shem? she wondered again. And Ham…?
Gazing at his face, the steely look in his eyes, Ila knew it was hopeless. She took another deep breath to collect herself and swallow her tears. “I know I cannot stop you, Noah. But my babies are crying.”
She swallowed hard. “
Please don’t let them die crying. Please let me calm them. Please just… Just let them be at peace.”
He stared at her, saying nothing for a long time. And then finally he nodded.
“Thank you,” Ila whispered. She started to hum. It was a lullaby she loved, a lullaby filled with tender memories of the man who had found her and taken her into his arms like a father one night long ago.
The moon is high
The trees entwined
Your father waits for thee.
To wrap you in his sheltering wings
And whisper you to sleep.
To wrap you in his welcome arms
Until the night sky breaks
Your father is
The healing wind that whispers
You to sleep
That whispers as you sleep.
As Ila sang, her infants hushed. Calm, at peace, they stared up at her.
“I love you,” she murmured, caressing each baby’s perfect face. Silent tears streamed from her eyes.
At last Ila stood up and turned toward Noah. He reached for the babies, but Ila shook her head. “No.”
Noah blinked in surprise. “You do not need to see this, Ila.”
“No. I won’t hand them over. I will hold them,” she declared. I am their mother, she thought.
Noah closed his eyes for a moment. Then he tightly gripped his knife. Behind them Ila could hear Naameh, maybe others on the roof now. But she kept her eyes pinned to Noah’s face.
“Do it quickly!” she urged him.
In his hand the knife blade glinted in the light. The babies both looked up at him, squinting and blinking.
Tears filled his eyes.
Beside him, Ila could feel something in him melt.
Then he turned from her, unable to look at her or the babies anymore.
Numbly, she watched him stumble to the edge of the Ark. He teetered there, as if he were about to fall or jump.
Slowly, his eyes lifted up toward the heavens and the Creator. “I cannot do this.” His hand relaxed, and the knife plunged into the churning waters below.
Ila heard footsteps behind her. “Shem!” she cried in joy. He scooped up his daughters. Ila hugged him, feeling the two babies’ tiny bodies between them.
My husband. My children.
Japheth and Naameh rushed over too. There was no sign of Ham.
