by K. B. Kofoed
“What are you telling me? Unless what?”
Gene paused for a moment, then said, “I want you in on this. Just like always. I can’t say the same for John and his father, though. They think you’re a security risk. If I push to have you brought in on this, then you have to cooperate. You’ll have to swear under oath, under pain of death, even, that you won’t talk about Thunderbolt.”
“Thunderbolt?” said Jim. “It has a name?”
Gene was about to explain, but he realized that he’d already said too much. Jim had expressed no assurances that he’d comply with anyone’s wishes, let alone Uncle Sam’s.
“God damn!”
“Jim,” said Gene, “listen to me. I’m telling you all this at great personal risk just because of our friendship. I went into the ring for you on this so please quit acting like I’m against you. If John calls you and asks for your cooperation, you should give it. That is, if you want to continue with the ark project.”
Jim thanked Gene for sticking his neck out for him. He realized Gene had put himself on the line for their friendship, but that didn’t make sense.
“You’re doing this because we’re friends?”
“I don’t know why I’m doing it,” admitted Gene. “I told them that we need your intuition.”
“Well, they already have my drawings, my work,” said Jim. “I guess there’s nothing else they need me for.”
Gene wasn’t dissuaded. “I want you in on this, but the only way that can happen is if John’s father brings you in. I’ll talk to them and tell them we had this conversation, but don’t let them know I gave you any details. I think John is okay with you. It’s up to him to work on his Dad.”
When Jim hung up the phone he realized that by agreeing to the terms that Gene outlined he wouldn’t be able to share any information with his family or his friends. That meant Dan and Lou. At the moment they were both fully informed and would surely be interested in the ark. Somehow Jim would have to change that if he was going to continue with the project and still be their friend.
Jim went to the bedroom. Kas was already tucked in with a book. “How did the conversation go with Gene?” she asked. “What’s happening with the ark?”
“I’m not sure I can answer that,” said Jim as he undressed.
“Because he didn’t give you any details as usual, right?”
“I just can’t say.”
#
Jim woke up the next morning at five a.m. He lay beside Kas and stared at the ceiling, pondering what Gene had said. He thought of the voice that had spoken to him in John’s rec room while he sat in the dark and stared at the tiny model of the ark.
Where was that counsel now? Where was the voice when he needed answers?
Jim got up and took a shower, but his mind didn’t really clear and his eyes felt puffy.
Kas slept on while Jim debated going back to bed, but by six he felt committed to staying awake. He remembered that today he and Lou had to meet with the printers who were doing the posters for Super Sunday. The designs were done, thanks to Lou’s outpouring of creative ideas. They were at least two weeks ahead of their deadlines, which spelled considerable success for the Raftworks Studio.
Jim breakfasted on a piece of toast and some reheated coffee from the night before. He left Kas a note, deciding to get a jump start on the week.
To his surprise when he arrived he found Lou already at work. He barely greeted Jim.
Jim tried to engage Lou in conversation but Lou only grunted his responses. More than anything Jim wanted to discuss his conversation with Gene, but he found the subject impossible to broach.
When Jim started his Powermac Lou came into his area with a bunch of papers. “Since you’re passing up creative on this, Jimbo, you might as well take care of some of the shit work.” Without waiting for a response, Lou dumped the folder he’d been carrying in Jim’s lap and left the room.
Jim rose from his seat and walked to Lou’s desk. “You have a problem? Let’s hear it.”
“You’re sadly mistaken, friend,” said Lou without taking his eyes off his computer screen. “You’re the one with the problem. I hope you spent yesterday in church.”
“This is a joke,” said Jim. “Okay, Lou. Big yuks. Now explain it to me.”
“I really don’t think you’d get it, pal.”
Jim felt the temperature in the room drop. Out of the blue he was losing his best friend, and he wasn’t sure why.
“I was here working yesterday, Lou. I left in the early afternoon. What the hell is going on?”
Lou spun in his swivel chair to face Jim. “Okay, Jim. Here it is. You used to be the powerhouse around here. Now you’re leaving everything to me.”
Jim had to admit that it was Lou who’d come up with most of the ideas they were using.
“Are you faulting me for not coming up with creative?” he said. “I had some ideas but yours were great. I don’t have a problem using your ideas. They’re great! So what’s the problem?”
Lou turned away again. “I have to finish this invitation before the printer comes,” he said coldly.
Jim walked sadly back to his desk. He wanted to solve the problem but was unsure of what it was. Behind him he heard Lou say, “Sorry, Jimbo, I told you before that I need you here and you haven’t been here at all. You may be putting in the hours but you’re not really here.”
Jim didn’t answer. He figured it was best to just pitch in to the work, to show Lou that he was wrong rather than argue about it.
By the time the printer arrived Lou seemed happier. They talked amiably with the rep and accepted his offer to buy them lunch. Getting perks always affected Lou positively, and by afternoon the air at the Raftworks seemed to have warmed considerably. Maybe Lou’s venting some frustration did him some good.
About four that afternoon Jim’s phone rang.
It was John Wilcox. “Hi Jim,” he said. “Got a sec?”
“Hi John,” said Jim, trying to sound enthusiastic. “How’s the project?”
“That’s what I wanted to discuss with you, Jim,” said John, “but frankly I don’t want to do it on the phone.”
“I talked to Gene,” began Jim.
“I know you did, and that’s what I want to talk to you about,” said John in a calm steady voice. “You know that everything has changed.”
“I don’t know why or how,” replied Jim. “I’ve been out of the loop even thought I thought we had an agreement.”
“Essentially, Jim, we paid you for your work. That’s all that was about.”
“So I’m talking to John, the lawyer,” said Jim. “Let’s cut to the chase. Is this a brush off?”
“On the contrary, this is an invitation. I’d like you to bring your family up to my house this weekend. Is this too short a notice? I heard you were busy.”
Lou came in to Jim’s area with more paperwork. He stopped at the door when he saw Jim on the phone.
“Can I call you back?” Jim said as he called Lou over to his desk. “I have some business I have to attend to.”
Ordinarily Jim would have told Lou who it was on the phone, but after Lou’s attack he decided that to keep his mouth shut. He remembered what Gene had said about secrecy. Perhaps now was the time to begin practicing it.
Lou was acting pleasant enough now, but his words earlier in the day still hurt. Having his friend come down so hard on him made Jim feel betrayed. Jim tucked into his work for the rest of the day, saying very little to Lou. Jim worked hard, pushing himself to prove Lou wrong. By day’s end he’d done a mountain of work, but Lou didn’t comment. He didn’t even seem to notice.
Lou left the studio at the end of the day without saying goodbye. Jim heard him shut off his radio, and a few moments later he heard the front door close. Jim sighed, turned off his computer, and got up. The studio seemed cold and empty. He stared through the Raftworks lettering that decorated the front window. The street was wet and a steady drizzle promised bumper to bumper traffic all t
he way home.
His tiff with Lou made him reassess their relationship during the last few weeks. How had it gone so sour without Jim noticing? Sure, Lou was a consummate grump – always had been – but this was different. It was anger and resentment that he felt from Lou, something he’d never felt before, and it nagged at him.
Would Lou allow their relationship to fall apart? Once he would have said that such a thing was impossible. They had gone through too much together. Now, as he stared out the window at the rain, Jim had to admit that he wasn’t sure of anything any more. He put on his jacket and left the studio, hoping that tomorrow he’d find Lou in a better mood.
When Jim got home he felt glad to be among allies. They ate a pleasant meal together, then Stephie announced that she had a party to go to. Jim and Kas went to the family room and turned on the TV. While they watched the news channel, Jim filled her in on the events of the day.
Kas was delighted to hear that John had invited them up to Mt. Kisco for the weekend. “This time we get to see the horses,” she said, “and I get to spend time in the hot tub. Unless, of course, those women are hogging it,” she added with a cute wink.
Jim was pleased that Kas had a sense of humor about it, but he assured her that Suzie and Arlene wouldn’t be there.
Bored with the news, Kas switched the TV to the educational station where they found a show called Ancient Legends of the Bible. The segment that night was about the Ark of the Covenant. Jim looked at Kas in surprise. “Small world,” he said.
Kas was going to change the channel but Jim objected. “Let’s see what they say.”
“What can they tell you that you don’t already know?” she said, picking up the TV guide.
“Let’s see what they say.”
Kas groaned. “I’d think you’d be sick of all that by now.”
“Let’s just see what they say,” repeated Jim.
The show focused mostly on theories concerning the fate of the original ark and the problems inherent in doing archeological excavations in Jerusalem. Most biblical historians believed the ark was buried under the temple mount, which was now under Muslim control. It described how two rabbis had secretly tunneled under the Mount to find the ark, but they were stopped by the Muslim authorities and the tunnel was sealed. Jim was tantalized by the story, commenting to Kas that he’d love to explore the tunnel for himself.
The show examined the city of Axum in Ethiopia, where some experts insist the ark is hidden, protected by a priesthood that allows no one but a chosen representative to enter the temple where the ark is presumably kept.
When the show ended Jim told Kas that Gene had been to Axum in an attempt to get the guardians of the ark to verify Jim’s sketches. “He had no luck,” he said. “I suspect it was one of the most frustrating moments in Gene’s life when he waved the drawings under the nose of the high priest, only to be ignored completely.”
“Where do you think the ark is?” asked Kas.
“I’d choose the Temple Mount,” said Jim. “Jerusalem is, after all, the holiest city in the world. It’s the center of three great religions.”
“I think it’s all mythology,” said Kas. “The minister at our church believes that the ark was spirited up to Heaven.”
Jim was pleased and surprised that Kas had enough interest in Jim’s research to ask her church’s minister about it. “Why does he think that it was taken to Heaven?”
“He said that the prophet, St. John, saw it there during his rapture.”
“It was a physical object,” said Jim. “Of all the possible places it could be hiding, why choose Heaven?”
“I’m just telling you what he said,” said Kas. “I don’t want to argue about it.”
“I know. I was just responding to what your minister said.”
“Okay,” said Kas, “I’ve heard enough about the ark to last a lifetime.”
“But the mystery remains,” said Jim. “That’s why I can’t let it go.”
He told Kas how Lou was acting that day in the office and how frustrated he was because of it.
“It’s like I’m on this path and I can’t get off of it,” he said. “Sure, I suppose it seems like I’m obsessed about it, but there’s a reason for that. Every time I get so I can back away from the subject, something happens to drag me in again. Take this evening. I swore to myself that I was going to leave the subject alone and just have a restful evening with you and Stephie. But what happens? She goes out. We turn on the tube and there’s the ark, staring me in the face again.”
“It’s no different from a book, Jim,” said Kas. “If you don’t like it, just close the cover and put it away. No one is asking you to give a major portion of your life to the subject. No one but you, that is. Besides,” she added. “It’s only natural to seek the answer to a mystery. That’s the way the mind works. Unanswered questions or mysteries hang in the back of our minds until we find an answer.”
“Then you do understand. So why ...”
“Jim, you aren’t going to solve this mystery. It’s one that goes back four thousand years. It’s crazy to think that, after so many people have tried, you’ll be the one to solve it.”
Jim thought about what she’d said. For the second time that day, he felt bad about himself.
Anger grew inside him. “I don’t know why everyone is on my case about this,” he said. “I hear guys obsessing about sports all the time and nobody complains. Now Lou is pissed off at me. Why? What have I done that’s so bad?”
“Claire says you’re leaving all the creative work to Lou.”
Jim knew she was right. He’d contributed very few ideas to the Super Sunday job. He could recall feeling relief when Lou came up with all his creative ideas, but he didn’t feel guilty because he’d done a lot of the actual work. Besides, the Super Sunday materials were nearly completed, not only on schedule but ahead of schedule. Jim had made that happen, not Lou. When he pointed that out to Kas, she was unmoved. “I guess the point is, what happens next?” she said. “I’m sure Lou feels pressured as the idea guy. What if he doesn’t have any ideas next time? Then what?”
“Lou thinks he already has the answer to that one.”
“But what’s your answer?” asked Kas.
Jim shrugged. “I’m doing the best I can.”
Woolsey entered the room and walked over to Jim with his head down.
“What’s the matter, puppy?” asked Jim. The dog put his chin on Jim’s knee and looked up at him with wide mournful eyes.
He stroked the dog, digging his fingers into his long fur. Woolsey’s hind leg made involuntary scratching motions.
“Look, Kas,” said Jim, “all I can promise is to do my best. I won’t let this ark thing get the better of me. I’ll be there for you and for the Raftworks. You’ll see.”
#
That night, while deeply asleep, Jim met the archangel Gabriel. In the dream he was in his studio working on the computer when he wanted to ask Lou a question. He walked into the front room and noticed that Lou had grown an immense pair of wings. Other than that, though, it was Lou, seated normally at his computer working on a digital image.
As Jim approached Lou turned to face him. His eyes glowed yellow orange, like burning coals.
“You’re not Lou,” said Jim. “You’re Gabriel, the archangel, aren’t you?”
“You noticed the wings.”
Jim laughed. “How could I miss them? They’re huge.”
“What do you think of the art?” said Gabriel, pointing to Lou’s computer screen.
Jim studied the image on the screen and realized that it wasn’t a flat screen at all but a window that looked out on the Universe. Stars, comets, planets and swirls of gas moved slowly around.
“Wow,” said Jim. “That’s new. Is that your idea?”
Gabriel laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jimbo,” he said as his eyes flashed with light, “there are no new ideas.”
Gabriel got up and floated to a file cabinet. He opened it and
pulled out a golden electric guitar. He put the strap over his shoulder and began to play Spirit in the Sky, complete with rhythm track.
Jim awoke to the sound of his clock radio playing the same tune.
“Time to face the music,” he muttered.
During his shower Jim pondered the dream and laughed, and when he got to work he collared Lou and insisted they have a talk.
Lou was apologetic. “I guess I was kind of hard on you yesterday, huh? I had a bad headache all day.”
“Lou,” said Jim. “We’ve known each other too long. What you said yesterday hurt a lot. I won’t lie to you about that. Bu everything you said was true. I admit it. And you’re right, I haven’t been full of creative ideas lately.”
Lou was never good at sit-down-work-it-out talks, but he expected this discussion. Jim hated it when problems were left unresolved, and typically it was Jim doing the resolving. Still, he knew he had a legitimate grievance and didn’t give an inch. He listened until Jim finished explaining. “So what are you going to do about it, Jimbo?”
“It’s still the ark project. It dogs me like a wound. I talked to Kas last night about it and we both agreed that it would be better if I didn’t talk about the ark project with my friends. Nobody’s interested in it but me anyway.”
Lou smiled. “You can live with that?”
“I guess I’ll have to, won’t I?”
Lou shook his head. “Jim, I don’t mind hearing about it as much as I fear what it’s doing to your head. It’s fucking you up, man. Can’t you see that?”
Jim nodded.
“I was going to suggest a shrink,” continued Lou, “but maybe that’s not necessary. You just have to get behind the Raftworks more. I need your spark.”
“Maybe a shrink isn’t a bad idea,” commented Jim. “Believe me, Lou, his thing has been much harder on me than anyone else.”
Then Jim told Lou about the dream.
“Me as an angel? That’s fucked up.”
“Not only an angel, but the archangel Gabriel.”
“I like the part about the wings,” he added, “and that bit about ‘no new ideas,’ Weird dreams you’re having there, Jimbo. Say, what is an archangel anyway?”
