by K. B. Kofoed
“So, Jim,” said John. “Tell me what you think of the model. Any thoughts?”
Aaron started placing plates on the table. He looked at Jim knowingly and smiled.
“I have to compliment you on the model work and the excellent and faithful interpretation of my drawings,” said Jim, winking at Aaron.
“Aaron made the ark and all the furniture in the tabernacle,” said John. “He’s a jeweler, you know, and volunteered his work.”
“You did a fine job, Aaron,” said Jim.
Jim was about to comment further on Aaron’s handiwork when Kas and Claire entered the kitchen wrapped in luxurious robes.
John rose to greet them. “Please, help yourself,” he said. “How’s the jacuzzi? Warm enough?
“Perfect,” said Claire as she sat down. “You should try it, Lou.”
Lou nodded and smiled as he reached for more bacon. “Maybe later.”
“Anything to add? Anything bother you about the models, Jim?” asked John.
“Maybe the special effects are superfluous. Like the bulb in the ark. Not really necessary, if you don’t mind my saying so. But it does add some realism to it.”
John smiled broadly. “Not at all, Jim,” he said. “It was my idea to put the light in it. You know, to give it some authenticity and to give an idea of what it might have looked like.”
Jim thought for a moment. “Well, a puritan might object to the bulb,” he said carefully, “but, since no one really knows what the thing looked like, it’s a moot point. It was interesting to see what happened to the smoke when the tent was around the ark. To me it underscores the necessity to have nothing over the ark, as the Bible says.”
“What if it rained?” asked Kas. “Wouldn’t the priests get wet?”
“Did it rain?” asked Claire. “I thought they were in a desert.”
“It must have rained at some time,” offered Kas. “They were marching around with it for 40 years.”
“The priests only went into the tabernacle,” injected Gene. “They never entered the place where the ark was kept, except to place it there. It was called the Holy of Holies and was separated from the rest of the tabernacle by a curtain. Perhaps we should have the tent cover only the part where the priest went.”
Lou looked up from his plate. “And let it rain on the ark?” he said. “Kinda rude, don’t you think?”
“Not if it’s the will of God,” said Jim. “If that’s the way He wants it...”
“Okay,” said John Wilcox. “Let’s ignore that detail for a while. Anything else bother you, Jim?”
“Not really,” Jim replied, sipping his coffee thoughtfully.
“Then you’d say we did a good job following your drawings?”
“Definitely,”
“That’s great,” said John, beaming like a child on Christmas morning.
“Of course I didn’t take a tape measure to it, but it looks like you got all the proportions correct. Still, I ought to check the model if it’s going to be used as a guide for the builders.”
Wilcox seemed to wince. “Okay, Jim,” he said, “but if there’s to be changes we should do it soon. I’m eager to start the actual construction.”
“Then you’ve ordered the gold?” Gene said, looking surprised.
“Not exactly,” said John. “What I have in mind is borrowing the gold, then giving it back when we’ve done the experiment. My accountant thinks I should borrow it and insure it. That way if anything happens I’m not out all that money.”
“How much gold are we talking about?” asked Lou.
“Well,” said Jim. “It’s tallied in the Bible. I looked up the conversion tables. I think it’s in my notes. Isn’t it, Gene?”
Gene nodded.
“The exact converted number escapes me at the moment,” Jim continued, reaching for the coffee pot. “It was all written in the Old Testament with all the other details.”
“You don’t remember?” asked Lou, pressing for an answer.
“Well, all the weights and measures are from the time — cubits, talents, shekels. Suffice to say that it took a lot of gold and silver.”
“Gold’s cheaper by the shekel,” offered Gene with a grin.
Lou looked at Gene blankly. Then his attention returned to Jim. “Are we talking millions of bucks?”
“Oh yes indeedy,” said John. “About six to ten million for the gold alone. Which reminds me of something I wanted to tell you all.”
John Wilcox now had everyone’s full attention. Even Claire was eager to hear more. He got up from the table and walked to a glass door that led to an outside patio. He slid it open. “Look, it’s a lovely day, nice and warm. Why don’t we go out to the patio?”
The entire group got up wordlessly and followed their host. Once outside, they arranged themselves on white wrought iron chairs and benches. It was almost ten o’clock and the morning sun was beginning to burn off the mist that still clung to the hills in the distance. The air was brisk and invigorating.
Wilcox took a deep breath and sighed. “You’d never know we were only forty miles from Manhattan,” he said. “Smell that air.”
“So, what was it you wanted to tell us?” asked Gene.
“It’s about the gold,” said John. “With so much gold around we don’t want too much publicity. So I’m sure you’ll understand that I have to insist on confidentiality. In short, I want this project to be kept top secret. You’ll find me to be a very reasonable and open person, but I insist you all keep a tight lip.” John was looking right at Claire when he finished. She shifted uneasily in her chair.
“Why are you looking at me?” she said with a nervous laugh.
John smiled. “I’m saying this to all of you, Claire. I just happened to look at you at that moment. Does anyone have a problem with this?”
“Certainly not,” answered Claire. “My lips are sealed.”
Lou laughed out loud.
#
By the afternoon John, Gene and Jim had broken away from the group and returned to the field where John hoped to recreate the original tabernacle.
The field was remarkably flat compared to the average terrain. Westchester County, at the foot of the Catskill Mountains, is mostly rolling wooded hills rich with tall pines and deciduous forests. Walking through the field, Jim smelled the scent of sweet new grass and molding winter leaves. Spring was showing as a blush on the trees, and the redbuds that dotted the area were pink with blossoms. A cool breeze, still damp with morning mist, pushed at them from the West.
“This land must have been cleared and graded,” said Gene. “That’s the thing about these lands. They seem do primeval, so untouched. Then you stumble onto an old wall. If you notice the stones that dot the landscape you’ll see the reason this area is so hard to farm. Big round boulders are everywhere, left here by the glaciers of the last ice age.”
John Wilcox nodded. “This is where a farmhouse stood, maybe fifty years ago. Since then it’s been graded, filled, fertilized and farmed. The land’s been fallow for at least thirty years. When I bought the place I was attracted to the main house and the cottage, but I fell in love with the woods with its streams and hollows and, of course, the little canyon. It may be that this flat field will end up being the most important place on the property.”
“May be,” said Jim, wondering what the property would fetch on the open market.
Wilcox turned to face Jim and Gene.
“What do you say we go ahead and do it?” he said. “I mean, if you’re satisfied with the plans, then what are we waiting for?”
Jim and Gene looked at each other with their mouths open.
Wilcox turned away and began to walk, still talking. His free stride reminded Jim of Peter O’Toole striding across the dunes in the movie Lawrence of Arabia.
“Like I said before, Gene,” he continued without looking back to see if he had an audience, “it’s really important that we keep this project quiet. It’d attract everyone from thieves to priests. If th
e media catches wind of it we’ll have to put up porta-potties for all the cultists camped everywhere. You get the idea, I’m sure. What a mess it would be if this thing got out.” John swiveled on his heel to face them. “Shall we begin next week?”
“Next week?” Gene and Jim said nearly in unison.
“Right. I’ll have heavy machinery brought in to start clearing the land.”
Gene looked down at the grass and stepped forward. “John,” he said. “I don’t see any reason to rush this project along.”
“Why not, Gene?” argued Wilcox. “Surely you’re as eager as I am to see this thing in action.”
“In action?” said Jim. “What do you mean by that?”
Wilcox eyed Jim silently and began walking back toward the edge of the field where the Land Rover waited. As they all got in John put the Rover in reverse, looked at his companions, and shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right, Gene. You won’t be the first to accuse me of going off half cocked.”
Gene sighed. “I didn’t accuse you of that, John.”
Sitting behind Gene, Jim leaned forward and rested his arm on the driver’s seat. “Maybe we should study this thing a bit more. I mean, you’ve clearly thought it through, John, but all this is still a bit new to me.”
“I’ve known what John had in mind all along, Jim,” interrupted Gene. “The reason I didn’t explain the plans is that I wanted you to hear it from John first.”
“Look, Jim,” said John. “I inherited my money. How else do you think I got my hands on 500 acres in Westchester County? Add some blind luck of my own, and a great investment broker, and I became a millionaire on my own. But I still like franks at Yankee Stadium. Pizza. Beer. I’m just a regular guy. This thing is incredible, though. I really think the ark is going to work.”
The Rover bumped along the gravel road back toward the house that John called his cottage in the woods and John told a few anecdotes about his family, how he grew up in a big house playing with the servant’s kids. Jim listened, but all he heard was a rich man trying to seem humble. He noticed that Gene was watching the landscape roll by, probably not even listening to John. Jim had the impression that all three of them were on different wavelengths.
“I think Gene and I should look into the alternative materials route. Right, Gene?” Jim asked, nudging his friend.
“What’s that?” Gene asked, suddenly wrested from his thoughts.
“Years ago, when you first got me doing those drawings, you were thinking about building the thing using alternative materials. I think you said that the ark would be made of gold plated aluminum or something like that.”
“Sure,” said Gene. “What of it?”
“It occurs to me that our main problem with this project is having all that gold in one place. If we could use less gold then maybe we wouldn’t attract so much attention. More like an experiment. You know.”
“No,” said John. “That won’t do at all.”
“Why not?” Jim asked, startled at John’s firm rebut.
“It would be a desecration to differ from the original. Like you said yourself, Jim. Once you start changing things, where do you stop?”
“Did I say that?” said Jim with a smile. “Well, I can’t argue with myself, now can I?”
John laughed. “I do it all the time myself, Jim,” he said, “but I don’t let it keep me from doing things.”
“I’m just suggesting we hold off a bit,” said Jim. “Now that we’ve met and understand each other, then this project has started. I think we should put some time between this weekend and our actually doing the reconstruction. Give it a bit more thought. Right?”
John Wilcox nodded.
“I’ve known Claire a long time,” added Jim. “She’s likely to talk.”
“Then I guess we’ll just have to kill her,” said John.
Jim looked at his host in shock. “What?” he said.
“Joke,” said John, grinning broadly. “It was a joke. Relax, Jim.”
#
The ark project had acquired a momentum of its own, and Jim felt like he was being swept along with it toward an uncertain fate. Years of calling himself a Christian, yet never attending church, were weighing on him as he considered the project that had Gene hooked. He felt drained.
John Wilcox noticed that Jim was quiet. “I’ll bet Aaron has some fresh juice,” he said, nudging his guest. “You look like you could use it, Jim. Did that bumpy road get to you? Don’t worry. I’m going to have it paved soon.”
When they arrived Aaron was standing under a spruce tree near the door. He snuffed out a cigarette when the Rover pulled up and trotted over to the car to open the door for his boss. John stepped out and looked with disdain at the smoldering butt on the gravel at his feet. His eyes rose to meet his servant’s. “I thought we quit those,” John said.
It was a brief, civilized exchange, and Aaron didn’t cower before his boss as one might expect, but it made an impression on Jim. Did he really want to answer to this man? Did he really want to get involved at all? He remembered Dan Slater and decided that perhaps some discussion with his former roomie might clarify things.
John invited Jim and Gene into his living room. With the dappled light shining in through the large windows, shaded by the trees outside, Jim felt like he was in a mountain cabin. The effect was enhanced by the view of the canyon beyond the pines in the distance. John Wilcox touched a wall switch and soft track lighting came on, making the room seem less gloomy. Jim settled into the sofa and stared at the view. Kas and Claire, carrying drinks, soon joined the men.
“Drinking already?” asked Jim.
“Screw off, Jim. I’m on vacation,” said Kas defensively.
“Ease up, pooks,” said Jim. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t mind one of them myself. A drink would do me some good.”
Aaron handed Jim a drink of his own. “I assume you wanted a vodka collins like your wife.”
“Suits me. Thanks,” said Jim, taking a large gulp.
Claire sat down across from Jim and the room became quiet for a moment. She looked up and cleared her throat, as if she wanted to say something. Shyly, her eyes moved from person to person and ended up focused on Lou. “I …,” she began. She closed her mouth and slumped back in her chair. “Nothing important,” she said. “Never mind.”
“What?” asked John Wilcox. “I’m interested in everyone’s opinions here. Feel free, Claire. Speak up, if you want to.”
Claire seemed emboldened. She sat up straight again. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t get all this. I mean, what the hell are you guys doing? What’s the point?”
Gene raised an eyebrow. “I thought we’d been all through this, Claire. What’s wrong with a little scientific inquiry? Why is that so hard to understand?”
“Well, Gene, for one thing none of you are scientists, or Biblical scholars, or clergy,” said Lou, defending his wife. “I think Claire’s question is reasonable.”
“I’m in it out of curiosity,” said Wilcox, seemingly unperturbed. “This thing, the ark, has never been proven to be a physical object with destructive power, as the Bible states. I think it’s exciting to think that we might be the ones to prove its true potential.”
“Prove what?” said Claire. “Who’s going to take you seriously? The story’s been around for over a thousand years. Mainstream science hasn’t looked into it by now. Why not? There’s nothing to prevent it. But they haven’t. Nor has any private religious institution. Hell, with all the support some of these fundamentalist groups get, any of them might have enough money to pull it off.”
She glanced at Gene. “You say nobody’s thought of it? That seems preposterous. How many people do you suppose have read that passage in the Bible? Christians, Jews and Islamics have read it. So what’s the deal? Why hasn’t someone ever built one?”
“Wow,” said Jim. “That was wonderful, Claire. I had no idea you had given this so much thought.”
“Claire and I talked about it a few times,” offered Lo
u with a shrug.
“Really? So you did take this seriously after all?”
“Not really. We were just wondering if we should have you committed,” Lou added with a laugh.
Kas sighed. “You know Stephanie was asking about it, too; wondering how far this would go. Frankly, I’m still wondering that.”
“Sheesh!” said Jim. “Some liberal artist’s wife YOU turned out to be.”
John raised his hand. “I have a question for you and Claire,” he said to Kas. “Just what is it that you find so threatening?”
“What if it works?” Claire asked softly.
WAR DOGS
It had been two weeks since the meeting, and Jim hadn’t heard a word from either Gene or John Wilcox. Normally this would have him upset. Jim hated waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he was glad for the time away from the project. Time to think.
The trip back from New York had been tense. A spring rainstorm had followed them most of the way, and it seemed to Jim that they had argued all the way home. By the time they returned to Philly everyone was in the mood to think about anything other than the Wilcox weekend or the Ark of the Covenant.
Jim decided to contact his friend Dan, who had identified the ark as a resonator. In retrospect, Jim found it curious that Gene had seemed unimpressed by Dan’s observations when they’d met, but took them fully to heart when he did the computer experiment at Penn and Columbia. He had growing suspicions about Gene and John’s true intentions. Perhaps talking to Dan might clarify his thinking.
Dan Slater was in his office in Colorado when Jim called.
“Hey, ol’ hoss,” Dan exclaimed when he recognized Jim’s voice. “How’s that ark project coming?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Dan,” admitted Jim. “Truthfully, I don’t know where to begin.”
Dan thought for a moment. “Tell you what. I really don’t have too much time right now. Why don’t you e-mail me and then we’ll talk?”
Jim agreed, and at lunch he sat at his computer and tried to compose a note to Dan that summed up his thoughts. His principal concern was summed up by the question, “What if it works?” His note rambled a bit but he sent it anyway.
