Ark

by K. B. Kofoed

  “Aha!” laughed John with raised eyebrows. “A graphic adventurer!”

  Jim smiled. He liked the phrase but he wondered about this youngish looking man. His calm and self-effacing style seemed incongruous with the image of a powerful corporate lawyer.

  “You’re a lawyer?” said Jim somewhat awkwardly.

  Wilcox smiled. “You won’t shoot me, will you, Jim? Some would, you know. We were about to have some sandwiches and champagne,” he added. “I hope you’ll join us?”

  They passed through an atrium filled with flowering vines that towered two stories up to a skylight of multicolored glass. Jim almost missed seeing the live turtles and the exotic birds caged there as Kas pulled him into the living room. It surrounded an inviting blue arm of water that connected to the larger swimming pool through a cave of natural stone. The pool was edged with large natural slabs of layered stone. To the left of the pool was a huge fireplace, and to the right a bubbling jacuzzi, large enough to accommodate six people, beckoned to Kas who stared at it longingly.

  The living room was built on several different levels. A slightly elevated lounging area surrounded the fireplace, backed by a sumptuous bar. But what caught Jim’s eye was the view through the huge picture window. “I didn’t know that there were canyons in New York,” he said. “What an amazing view.”

  “Thanks,” said John, “but I wouldn’t call it a canyon. It’s just looks like one from this viewpoint. The rock walls seem to go on forever, but they don’t. I actually chose this site for the house for the view. Found it hiking one day. We have to pipe water quite a ways, but I think it’s worth it.”

  “How far?” asked Lou.

  “Maybe four miles.”

  Wilcox raised a finger as though he’d just remembered something. “By the way, I think you’ll get a kick out of the model of the tabernacle I have in the rec room.” He excused himself. “I want to tell the staff that there’s four more for the lobster.” As he disappeared through a large rustic door he called back for everyone to help themselves to the bar. Then he was gone.

  “Talk about good first impressions,” said Claire.

  Kas snickered but made no comment. She seemed to be still taking in everything at once. Her eyes danced with delight.

  Jim walked over to the edge of the pool and stared out at the canyon. “You say Wilcox has a tepee?” asked Jim. “An Indian tepee?”

  Gene was by the bar examining the bottles. “Yeah,” he said, “and horses somewhere, and a geodesic dome. The estate goes on for miles.”

  “A dome?” said Lou, sitting down on the leather sectional.

  “You’ll like this one, Lou,” said Gene, looking at pointedly at him. “He says he has a pot garden.”

  Lou hung his head in disbelief. “I should have guessed it,” he said. “We had an accident back there on the interstate and we’re all dead and gone to heaven. This place has everything.”

  “Purgatory, if you ask me,” said Claire, surveying the room. “We can’t keep any of it.”

  #

  John Wilcox returned to the group, followed by two of his staff with drinks and sandwiches for the guests. “After you folks have relaxed a bit I’ll introduce you to the rest of the house,” he said. “And the staff, of course,” he added, patting the back of a tall blond man who was setting out the coffee service. “This is Aaron,” he said, “and that’s Consuela serving the sandwiches. She’s our cook. Wonderful,” Wilcox added, picking up one of the tiny sandwiches and taking a bite.

  The servants finished what they were doing and stood waiting for orders. Wilcox nodded to them and they left the room. He said little while his guests relaxed and enjoyed their food, and when everyone was finished he rose to address them. “The main purpose of our gathering is to get acquainted, but I confess that I’m eager to begin work on the project. I hope you’ll forgive me if I try to keep the ark project central to our discussions.”

  Gene lifted a hand and caught John’s attention. “In all fairness to Kas and Claire, and maybe Lou, I suspect they aren’t really too interested in it, John. They’re just along for the ride.”

  “I’m interested,” said Lou, clearly annoyed at Gene’s presumption.

  Claire and Kas remained quiet. John turned to Kas. “I understand you have a daughter. She couldn’t come?”

  “We didn’t think it appropriate to bring her,” said Jim. “We’re already a bit of a crowd. Wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “I’m sorry,” said John. “I should have told you to bring her. There’s lots to do. Horseback riding. The pool. She’s more than welcome. Please bring her along next time.”

  Kas smiled. “We will. Thank you.”

  “So, you and Claire aren’t interested in the Ark of the Covenant. Is that right?”

  “Bingo,” said Claire with a grin.

  Kas looked at Jim. “Well, I’m always interested in what Jim is doing, but ...”

  Wilcox smiled. “Not a problem, Kas,” he said. “You and Claire can enjoy the pool, the grounds, whatever you’d like. I just hope that when the rest of us get involved with our discussions you’ll bear with us if we get too boring.”

  “We’ve done okay so far,” said Kas, glancing at Claire. “Haven’t we?”

  “Sure,” agreed Claire, sipping her iced tea.

  “Good,” said Wilcox. “I’d like to have Jim take a look at a model in the rec room. Then I want to show you the spot I’ve picked out for the construction.” He motioned to Aaron, who was standing near the bar. “Aaron,” said John, “we’d like to tour the grounds in a while. Is the Rover gassed up?”

  “I’ll check, John,” said Aaron. He turned and left the room immediately.

  “He called you John,” said Kas.

  “I insist on my staff calling me that. I hope you’ll do the same. Now let’s go to the rec room.”

  The group rose and followed Wilcox through a doorway and down a long oak paneled hallway. “These are the guest rooms,” said John, pointing to the doors as they passed by. “There are four. Take your pick.”

  Kas couldn’t resist opening a door. The bedroom was decorated in greens. A large canopy bed dominated the room, and the furniture was arranged to accent a large sliding glass door overlooking the pool. “This one’s ours!” she exclaimed as she hurried to catch up with the group. When she entered the rec room everyone was gathering around a huge table.

  It was reminiscent of a model railroad setup, but instead of a train set this table held miniature tents and the trappings representing the Tabernacle of the Ark of the Covenant. Gene positioned himself at the head of the table and pointed to the miniature tent in the center. “My only problem with this is the covering you put over the tabernacle,” he said. “The Bible says that nothing shall be over or under the ark.”

  John Wilcox shook his head. “Yet all the models by all the scholars show it covered, as far as I have seen. Besides, it’s only practical. What if it rains?”

  Jim asked if the tenting could be removed so they could see inside the tabernacle. Wilcox pushed a button on a small control strip at the edge of the table and tiny wires attached to the tent lifted it into the air, revealing the structure underneath.

  “Cool,” said Lou. “Is this HO gauge? What do the other buttons do?”

  Small spotlights illuminated different parts of the display with each push of a button. Jim noticed that Wilcox hadn’t touched the large red button that dominated the control panel. “What’s the red one for?” he asked.

  “Special effects,” said John with a grin. “Watch this.”

  The lights illuminating the table dimmed and there was a humming as one end of the tabernacle filled with white smoke and a tiny light came on inside the structure. Jim smiled when he noticed that the tiny ark that held the light was configured exactly like his drawing. “I wanted to see how the ark would illuminate the thing,” commented Wilcox. “Thought it would be helpful.”

  Lou stepped back from the table when he noticed dark smoke coming
from a little ornate box located about a foot from the front of the tabernacle. “Is this a problem?”

  “Not at all,” said Gene. “That’s the altar for burnt offerings.”

  By now a small cloud of smoke was hanging over the ark, illuminated from within.

  “I added the smoke to get an idea of what this thing looked like when it was working,” said Wilcox. “I can’t leave it on too long,” he added, pushing the red button again. The light on the tiny ark went out and the smoke stopped pouring from the two places on the table.

  “Sheesh,” exclaimed Claire, “what a stench.”

  “Sorry,” said John Wilcox. “I couldn’t find a dark smoke that doesn’t stink.” He walked to one of the walls and turned on an exhaust fan.

  “Interesting,” said Jim. “In the Bible it says that nothing shall be over or under the ark, but I always wondered.”

  “What?” asked Gene.

  “The cloud hung over the tabernacle so I assumed the cloud comes from the ark, but if nothing is over the ark, why does everyone put a tent over the tabernacle? I mean it describes all kinds of veils and coverings, but no tent.” He looked at Gene. “In the instructions, I mean. Yet they do describe it as the tent of meeting.”

  Gene thought for a moment. “I see.”

  Jim folded his arms. “When I was figuring this thing out I wondered if the instructions were incomplete, if details were omitted. That makes me wonder if there’s doubt about the configuration of the cherubim.”

  Wilcox looked at Jim. “I’m not following you, Jim.”

  “Well, there’s a line in there, ‘in the manner that I showed thee on the mountain.’ It gave me doubts, I have to admit.”

  John Wilcox stared at Jim without expression. Then he looked at Gene. “Did you have the same impression?”

  “Not really,” answered Gene.

  “Pardon me for asking this, John, but have you read the texts yourself?” Jim asked.

  “I skimmed them. They seemed straightforward enough.”

  “If there’s doubts about the instructions, and my drawings aren’t accurate, I don’t see how this model is reliable,” said Jim, scratching his head.

  Now that his eyes had grown accustomed to the darkened room, Jim noticed a Norman Rockwell painting of three saluting boy scouts and two DeKooning prints of zoo creatures. Opposite them was what appeared to be a large framed paper napkin with an obscene sketch of a teenage girl by R. Crumb. For the first time he was glad that Stephie wasn’t there.

  John Wilcox pushed a button on the control panel and the tent lowered back into place. Residual smoke curled around the tent, accented by the small spotlight that was centered on the place called the Holy of Holies.

  Jim shivered. Suddenly he realized that he was miles away and his host was talking to him.

  “Golly, Jim,” Wilcox was saying. “I’m getting a vague impression that you aren’t entirely ... behind this enterprise of ours. Is that true?”

  “I’m not sure what the enterprise is, yet, if you don’t mind my saying so,” replied Jim.

  Kas and Claire walked to the door of the rec room. “Maybe we should get our luggage and take it to our rooms while you guys discuss this,” Kas said.

  “Of course, Kas. Aaron, the Wilsons will be in the blue bedroom and the Brooks in the green.”

  He turned to face the group. “The rover’s outside. Let’s go see the site.”

  #

  “What were you doing, Jim?” asked Kas as he climbed into bed beside her. “Wilcox must be worth millions and you’re pissing him off? That’s being a bit cavalier, isn’t it?”

  Jim frowned. “Yeah,” he said. “I don’t know why I went and shot off my mouth like that. Just being honest, I guess. I don’t like having my chain pulled, Kas. You know that,” he added, “and as a designer I have to be a realist. One of the problems with this project is that the source of all my information is hearsay. The most outspoken people about the ark are cultists, for want of a better term.”

  “Are you afraid they’ll send you a letter bomb?” Kas said jokingly.

  That’s just it,” Jim answered softly. “I don’t know what to expect.”

  #

  Jim was awake before everyone else the next morning. He dressed and went back to the darkened rec room to look again at the model. Instead of switching on the room light he want to the control panel and pushed the button to raise the tent from the ark. Automatically a glow of light came from the tiny ark. Jim reached into the set and found that the ark was plugged loosely into a socket set into the table. Examining it, he was pleased to see that whoever made it followed his drawings perfectly, but he found it disturbing to see a Christmas tree bulb stuck rudely into its lid. “So God is a light bulb. Ahhhh,” he said. “All is revealed.”

  “Not quite all,” said a voice behind him.

  Aaron’s sudden appearance startled Jim. “Oh, hi Aaron. What did you say?”

  “How do you like your eggs, Mr. Wilson?” said Aaron gracefully.

  “Oh, um, scrambled. Whatever.”

  Aaron nodded and turned to leave. Then he paused and asked, “By the way, how did I do with the model?”

  “You made it?”

  “Well, I made the ark, and all the furniture for the temple. I do jewelry on the side.”

  Jim nodded appreciatively. “You did a fine job, Aaron,” he said. “Nice craftsmanship. You followed my sketches pretty closely. By the way, did you know that Aaron in the Bible, Moses’ brother, was a goldsmith too?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t build the ark,” replied Aaron,

  “That’s right,” said Jim. “You know your Old Testament, eh?”

  “Well, I’m Israeli,” said Aaron. “Goes with the package, I guess, but I had to do some research for the menorah and the table of snow breads. Didn’t find out much. Ended up winging it.”

  “I noticed you didn’t put much decoration on the ark,” said Jim. “Any reason?”

  “You didn’t in your drawings. I was told to follow your sketches exactly. Decorations aren’t mentioned in the text. Besides, it’s only a model. Once you start decorating it you could go on forever.”

  “I had the same thought when I did the drawings,” said Jim. “I think most of the renderings I’ve seen of the ark are too ornate. Too decorative.”

  “I agree,” said Aaron, “Byzantine, Renaissance artists decorated everything to death, right? So what will it be?”

  “Huh?” said Jim.

  “Scrambled? Poached?”

  “That’s right,” answered Jim with a laugh. “Breakfast. Forget the eggs. Just toast and coffee would be great, Aaron, thanks.” Jim put the ark back into its slot in the table and its little light came on brightly.

  “I’m not thrilled about the bulb, sorry to say,” he commented.

  “No argument,” said Aaron, looking over his shoulder to see if they were alone. “John’s idea.”

  “I guessed as much,” said Jim with a nod. “I can smell the coffee now.”

  Jim left the model and followed Aaron to an immense kitchen, nearly as big as the rec room. The first thing that caught his eye was a row of refrigerators that lined a preparation area larger than his own home’s entire kitchen.

  “This place just keeps getting bigger,” said Jim.

  Gene was already at the breakfast table in a room next to the kitchen. A wall TV was on but the sound was off. He was watching the weather channel.

  “It’s gonna rain this morning,” said Gene. “Good thing we toured the site yesterday.”

  “Just a field. Didn’t impress me much,” said Jim. “I got a kick out of the dome, though. It’s amazing how much space is in one of those things.”

  “I like the teepee near the waterfall. Back to nature, eh? Great place to get laid,” said Lou as he entered the room. “Which reminds me. The girls are in the jacuzzi.”

  “Yeah, the teepee was good, but it was all location. I bet it’s cold at night in them,” said Jim.

  “We
ll, that shows what you know. If they’re made right, a teepee is warm as toast.”

  “In winter?”

  Lou nodded. “With a fire, of course. All the smoke goes right out the top. Those Indians knew their shit. Teepees aren’t like freakin’ tents where you have to bend over all the time. You can stand up and move around.”

  Aaron handed Jim a cup of black coffee, then went back to a large pan full of scrambled eggs. He glanced at Lou as if amused by his observation but made no comment.

  “I had no idea you were such an expert on the Indians, Lou,” observed Gene.

  Lou took a chair across from Gene. “Shit. I’m no expert,” he said. “My Dad built one once. I used to play in it when I was a kid, visiting my grandparents in Vermont.”

  “I didn’t know you had grandparents in Vermont, Lou,” said Jim.

  “Well, I don’t any more. They’re dead.”

  The table fell silent.

  As if on cue, John Wilcox walked in and waved to the group. “Hi all,” he said cheerfully. His blue jeans and a turtleneck sweater were such a marked contrast to the suit Jim had seen him in the day before that Jim almost didn’t recognize him.

  “I see the girls are fond of the jacuzzi,” noted Wilcox. “That’s good,” he added bemusedly. “I almost never use it myself. It’s really for guests. How’s breakfast coming, Aaron?”

  “Your Benedict is almost done, John,” replied Aaron without looking up from his work.

  John Wilcox helped himself to coffee and sat down next to Lou, opposite Gene.

  Jim was still thinking about the bulb in the ark. Some people would call it a desecration, and in a way he was inclined to agree. Still, it seemed silly to raise any objections, since the ark was such a mystery. All he would probably accomplish would be to piss off his host. And, in the dark, the light that shone from the ark did add realism to the scene.