by Caryl McAdoo
His second sang the beat, and he and all of his flapped in unison to the beat. Soon he heard the harmony and belted that out, spurring his charges on. At first, the Ark continued eastward, then a thumb’s worth, then a hand’s breadth of northward movement. The mission would be achieved, and the ship turned according to the will of the Creator.
Overhead, a flock of evil ones appeared, but a band of angels of light intercepted, singing Elohim’s praises full voice. Feathers fell, then evil retreated. Half that host joined him while the rest circled above the storm. Two legions’ worth of star twinkles was all it took with the extra help to get the great ship heading north at a lively clip.
It pleased Centurion that the Maker always knew the end from the beginning. Would have been nice though to know ahead that He’d prepared ten cohorts of Michael’s Seventh Legion to join them.
But then, who knew the mind of God or His ways?
“Do you hear that?” Jemri cupped her hand around her ear.
“Hear what, my love?” Hattimas turned her head in the same direction. “All I hear is the storm.”
She wasn’t sure, so didn’t want to say. It sounded like many voices singing a deep rumbling beat. “I’m not certain. Perhaps it’s just the wind.”
Her mother looked around the table. “Anyone want more bread? I have plenty.”
“No thank you, Mother.” Japheth folded his napkin and set it beside his plate. “We’ve broken our fast and should see to our charges.”
Shem stood first. “What say we wait and see how much rain we get before we turn the water screw?”
“Agreed, I’ll stick the tanks after we feed.”
Jemri marched in lockstep with Shem until she reached the bottom deck, then grabbed his and hand pulled. “Come on.”
He fell into step with her. “Where are we going?”
“Can’t you hear them?”
“Who?”
“The angels are singing while they push the ark’s nose north.”
“Are you…” He stopped and leaned back. She smiled as the pulsing song washed over her.
“Yes, and I’m sure of it. Can you hear the lead singer? That’s Centurion. I’d know his voice anywhere.”
“The giant angel who saved you and Varsi?”
“That’s right, and now for some reason, he and a whole lot of angels are pushing us north.”
She hugged herself. Bless the Lord. He had sent her old friend to help her once again.
Chapter Six
It pleased Shem that only he and Jemri could hear the angels’ song, but bothered him somewhat that his wife thought she could pick out the giant’s voice above the others. A part of him wanted to be thankful Centurion had saved her. Twice, no less, but it should have been him who rescued his love.
Oh well, that all remained in the past, like his old life, buried by the flood. He tapped the donkey’s rump as it passed, not too hard but enough to let him know he needed to keep on walking. Plenty of light still streamed through the cubit opening between the top of the walls and the roof.
As the beast circled, he counted the days. Best he could figure, this marked day one hundred forty-seven. What a foolish thing he had thought. Forty days of rain then the ark would settle back down in the shadow of God’s mountain, and things would go back to the way they were. Everyone thought the same, but why wouldn’t they?
Nothing was going to be the same.
Nothing.
Each day, the ark moved farther away from his old home, or so it seemed. But then what was there for him? A pile of stones and bricks? Now that all the mountain tops were under water, only the greater and lesser lights let him know the ark sailed north. Once the Lord finally dried up the water, he and Jemri would start fresh, and he would give her many babies.
The sons of Shem. He liked the sound of it. Instead of the sons of Cain or Seth, the tribes of men would be named for him and his brothers. While the donkey worked, Shem dreamed of his sons, strong healthy boys to help him build and plant as he helped his father. Noah would be the world’s only living grandfather.
Fifteen and five score turns later, the last ray of sunshine vanished. “Good. It’s finally short shadow. You ready for a rest and extra grain?”
Like the beast understood, he stopped at the gate and waited. Shem unharnessed him, led him back to his stall, dumped his morning wages in the feed trough, then hurried toward his mother’s table. Past ready to eat, he noted that it seemed as the heat increased so did his appetite. Praise God for the breeze blowing in from the north.
Jemri met him at the door with a big sloppy kiss. Could he love the girl anymore? “Wash up. Everything is almost ready.”
“Yes, my love.” He touched his puckered lips to her nose then did as told.
Fried corn balls, stewed tomatoes, wheat bread, and blueberry cake drizzled with honey, his mother spoiled them all with her cooking. He appreciated that, of all her daughters, his Jemri chose to spend any free time in the kitchen with her, learning her ways. She poured his goblet full of apple wine and sat beside him.
Halfway through, he paused and smiled at the matriarch of the little tribe. “Thank you, Mother. I’m amazed at how many different meals you come up with. And all so delicious.”
Nodding, she smiled. “No, your grandmother was the cook.” As was her way, she passed the glory on. “I’m naught but a poor imitation.”
Noah held his wine cup out. “You’re too modest, Hattimas. Our mother was good alright, that’s true. But she picked from a garden full of such a variety, everything fresh to cook with. You, my dear, work miracles in that kitchen of yours. Aren’t you glad I brought your stove?”
Japheth laughed. “I sure am.”
The praise and laughter made its trip around the table. She clinked her gold goblet to her husband’s, then smiled. Was that a bit of blush tinging her cheeks? Shem smiled, too. Many days passed with little or no mirth.
Then it stopped. He looked to his wife. She’d obviously noticed it, too. For a dozen heartbeats, he didn’t say a word. Then he felt it. “We’re slowing.”
His father stood and walked to the window, unlatched and flung it open. Shem and the others joined him. The water, smooth as polished silver, shimmered in the bright light of the sun. Not a ripple marred its surface. The sky was bluer than anything he’d ever seen. Bluer than the sea of water that reflected it.
For the longest, Noah stood there then turned around. “You’re right, Son. The ark is slowing down.”
Enoch smiled, then reached for the rock he’d refused to look at, while the old one contemplated his move. “You lose again, my friend.”
The cherub shook his head. “No, I’m…” He turned around and looked toward his balcony. “Ah, we have company. Have you met Gabriel?”
“Yes, the Lord sent him before the first Changing of the Watch right after I came.”
Namrel stood and nodded to the back, chuckling. “My ceilings are too short for Elohim’s messenger.”
Enoch followed the old one outside just as the giant landed.
“Good tidings I bring. Adonai’s watch changes in three days.” The archangel nodded at Enoch. “Greetings, Son of Jared.”
“Gabriel, is there news of my sons and their wives?”
“Yes. The Holy One says they are presently becalmed and will remain so until the one hundred fiftieth day. The earth is covered with water. It flows fifteen cubits over even the tallest mountain. An amazing sight. Nothing with the breath of life remains save those in the ark of the Lord.”
“Noah and his sons, are they well? Do they have enough of everything?”
“Trust in the Lord and forget not His benefits.”
“Well said.” Enoch backed away a step, then another question sprang to his lips. “Has the Lord spoken of Ahab and Jezebel?”
“No.”
“How about Elijah or Israel?”
He shook his head then faced the cherub. “Namrel, spread the word. I must fly. One of my brother’s legions has
not responded to the shofar blast.”
“Sing well, my friend.”
Gabriel unfolded his wings. “Always.” Then with one hard pull, he shot a furlong overhead. After only two more, the angel appeared only as a speck.
“Who are these men you speak of?”
Enoch shrugged. “Ahab is a ruler, but his wife Jezebel rules over him. I have seen them in my night visions. Somehow, Elijah’s and Israel’s lives are intertwined with these two. But the whys or hows lurk in the shadows of my mind’s eye.”
“Yes, we see through a glass darkly, but one day, the redeemed of the Lord will rejoice and come to Zion with singing.” The cherub rubbed his chin. “This I have seen, but I know not what it means.”
“Zion. That’s a new word.” Enoch grinned. The depth of the Lord was without end. “Can I help you pass the word?”
The corners of the angel’s mouth raised slightly. “No, but come with me a ways. I want to hear about this ruler you have seen.” Namrel held up a finger. “But first, enlighten me, if you will, as to exactly how I lost this rock game.”
Enoch enjoyed his time with the old one. Bittersweet that it would be a long while before he would see his friend again. Perhaps the Lord would change the next two watches sooner. After the cherub informed the last of his twenty-three brothers who would soon appear with him in God’s manifest presence, he stopped and threw a nod over his left shoulder.
“I must bid you farewell, my friend.”
“Why? The watch doesn’t change for three more days.”
“True, but I must fly to the Temple Built Without Hands, the double dozen there needs be told.”
Enoch shrugged. “I understand. One fine day…”
“Yes, one glorious day after the reconciliation, then you my friend will see the Lord, but first you will have to experience death.” Namrel spread his wings, smiled, then took three short steps and lifted off with such grace and ease. Almost effortlessly, he flew toward the Throne of God and His Holy Temple.
A tinge of apprehension tugged at Enoch’s heart. The Lord had shown him bits and pieces of his final days on earth in his night visions, but not the manner of his death. Just like the archangel said, ‘Trust in the Lord and forget not His benefits.’ Whatever waited, he would endure, for the prize was beyond his comprehension.
He couldn’t even imagine what he would do…to be in the Lord’s manifest presence one fine day. Would he sing Hallelujahs? Dance? Or in awe…be still? Fall on his face and worship? What a wonderful day it would be to see God’s face. A peace settled over him.
He sank to his knees. “All is well with my soul, Lord.”
Jemri pulled the cord. Tepid water trickled over her head. She enjoyed scrubbing her skin with the soap root. It felt so good to be clean. She loved the water running down over her, rinsing the lather to the drain. Her shower was nothing like the stone bathing pool she once used, but Shem had promised one day, he’d build her one even grander in their new home.
A breeze hit her, and the temperature dropped by at least fifteen cricket chirps. She smiled at her husband who worked the ostrich feather fan. “Back up, and you can have a turn under the shower.”
“I’d rather watch you.”
“Best get your eyeful. Mother says after babies, it all changes.”
“Father says birthing changes a woman for the better.”
She held her arms out. He set the fan aside and walked into her embrace.
Soon she was almost as hot and sweaty as before her stand-up shower bath, but snuggled into her place next to Shem. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Not the heat, the lack of any breeze, or that the water covered the whole world. The Lord had washed away Adam’s sin. The sons of Cain were all dead.
Soon, she would bear many sons and daughters, and they would all follow God.
She sat up and stared at her husband.
“What?”
“Oh, I was just now thinking how the Lord has washed away Adam’s sin, and all the sons of Cain are dead.”
“Yes, it’s true. There’s no way any of them could have survived.”
She nodded. “That’s certain, but one of his daughters did.”
“Myelin.”
One of his father’s old stories came to Shem’s inner ear. Before, he didn’t understand the meaning, but now he did. He scooted up in the bed. “Father ever tell you the story of when Abba gave him our names?”
“No. I’ve never heard it.” She fluffed her feather pillows then eased back. “Tell me.”
“The Lord took Noah in a vision to Eden, found himself right in the middle. He knew it from the stories. The two trees grew in near proximity with nothing else close to them.”
“What two trees?”
“Life and Knowledge. You know.” Her face looked a blank. “Of good and evil. Hasn’t anyone told you that story?”
“Oh, yes, of course. Those two trees.” She still seemed to search the recesses for it. “The memory is vague. I must have been very small. You’ll have to tell me that one, too. So why did God show Father those? Weren’t there angels with swords or something?”
“Yes, winged men guarding the entrance.” He shook his head. “I never knew until just now what that story about Elohim giving Father our names was all about.”
“Really? What happened to make you know?”
“What you just said.”
She laughed. “What did I say, Shem dear?”
“About Myelin. Father’s naming story explains why Ham picked Myelin instead of you.” He took her hand, closed his eyes, and spoke aloud to the Lord. “Thank you, Father God, for giving me my heart’s desires.”
“Yes, and mine! Praise His name. I cannot even imagine being a wife to either of your brothers!” She elbowed him. “So keep talking. Tell me the story and what it all means.”
“My elder brother is so good and sweet, and it’s no wonder why he wanted your twin. She’s maybe even nicer than him! Bless the Lord that we, my love, carry the birthright of life. And Ham is….”
“No.” She sat up and stared at him. “Why would the Almighty do that?”
He didn’t know how to respond. While he contemplated the answer he hoped was not true, the ark’s timber groaned and the vessel lurched.
“We’re moving.” Jemri jumped out of bed and threw her tunic over her head, wiggling it down.
“Where are you going?”
“Out. So I can see the stars though the vent opening. Don’t you want to come?”
Shem grabbed his own garments and joined her in the walkway outside his rooms. Yes, it was true. The ark moved north.
She cupped her hand around her ear. “They’re coming back. Can you hear them?”
He strained but could only hear his own heartbeat. “No. Are you sure?”
She only wrinkled her face at him like she often did when he said something stupid.
Then as the great ship increased in speed, the rhythmic beat he’d heard from before returned. He smiled at her and nodded knowingly. “Do now.” Praise Him from Whom all blessings flow. The Almighty had sent a wind to blow them north, and a band of angels to steer them to their new home.
Chapter Seven
Each new day, while she went about her chores, Jemri contemplated what Shem had told her about how the Lord named him. Divine appointment. As her whole life, Father God had been there at every turn showing her the path to take. What if…she shuddered at the thought. He wasn’t making her do things.
She could have chosen to stay with her grandmother or go with her parents and fight against the sons of Cain. That’s what she’d wanted to do. Then Centurion coming at the last breath to save her and Varsi. Yes, her sister was good alright, never ever…well, there was that one time when she didn’t want to eat the tomato soup.
Jemri laughed. Though good, her twin was not perfect. Still, for sure better than her own sinful self. But praise God’s Holiness, she would bear the son who carried the birthright of life. If it wasn’t so hot, she’d hug her
self—or better yet, go find her husband and hug him. She scooped another shovelful of manure and tossed it into the cart.
That should do it. She needed to stay on schedule, hated being the last one to the midday meal or any repast. Did either of her sisters know Mother let her help cook if she got there first? And why she relegated them to cleanup chores?
Grain in. Dung out. Fill their water buckets. Tell each and every one what good animals they were. But then the Lord had chosen them, just as He’d chosen Noah and Hattimas, their sons, her and her sisters. God Himself had called to the beasts’ hearts, told them to come aboard the ark. No telling how far some had traveled to get there.
Snickering, she considered what a chore it would have been rounding all of them up, herding them onto the vessel and each species to their own stall, much less where one went to find them. How could Father have even known what to look for, or if and when they all were represented? She’d never seen most of her and Shem’s lower floor charges.
Bless God, she finished the last one, an odd-looking creature whose nose grew longer than his legs. Tomorrow morning, her turn at the water wheel. It had become the highlight of her routine. Only she regretted that she and Shem couldn’t do that chore together.
Whenever she could be alone with him, she loved that time the most. Dumping the load of dung and spent straw, she left the cart on top of the pile, quickly washed, then raced up the stairs to the top floor where she found her in the kitchen cooking. Did the woman do anything else?
“Jemri.” Mother’s eyes sparkled and that smile never failed to lighten her mood. She’d had that effect on Jemri since the first day. “Good, it’s you.”
Without being asked, she slipped in, saw what still needed to be done, and went to work, except she couldn’t classify cooking as work. With everything ready except the bread, her mother leaned against the prep table and eyed her hard. “So, my love, what’s got you in such a good mood this day?”
