by Caryl McAdoo
Bless His Holy Name.
Myelin broke from the women and raced to the altar. She pulled off a steaming chuck of goat flank, and bit off a mouthful.
“Baby, no.” Hattimas stepped toward her with her hands out.
“You heard Him. God gave us the animals for meat, and I love goat.” She extended her hand. “Come, Mother. Try it. You’ve never tasted anything so good.”
No one moved, then Ham stepped forward. She put a morsel in his mouth. He closed his eyes and chewed. A smile came across his lips.
“She’s right. It’s delicious.”
Chapter Nine
What a day. A gentle shower had kept the men home that morning, working inside the ark until after the midday meal. She loved the rain falling softly, cleansing the air, washing the mud and dirt from the rocks, and watering the grass. And the best of it was the rainbow, the token of God’s covenant. She loved the bright colors arched across the sky.
And now, an even better night was upon her. Jemri practically floated a hand’s worth off the ark’s wooden floor, mostly after God spoke to her almost face to face. She’d heard Him before the flood, but that had been more like the little cloud’s thunder. He spoke today in such a soft and wonderful tone.
Especially the “be fruitful and multiply” part. She slipped into her side of the bed.
Shem laid on top of the covers, not bothering to take off his tunic.
She tugged on his sleeve. “Did you hear Him, Husband?”
He rolled onto his side. “Yes. I did. It was awesome.” His lips thinned and spread, but in an expression of deep satisfaction, not anticipation. “I don’t think anyone else did, though. No one mentioned it.”
She sat up. “What are you talking about? We all heard God’s voice. We’ve not talked about anything else other than the scouting trip you men plan for the morrow.”
He nodded. “Yes, we all heard what He said out loud, but not what I heard Him say in His heart.”
She put her hand on his forearm. “You heard…God’s heart?”
“Yes, Jemri, and we must act accordingly.”
She exhaled. “Fine. We will, once you tell me what He said.”
“He first spoke in the heart, then aloud repeated much of what He’d already said, but not all. Aloud, He never explained the why as to not cursing the ground ever again. It’s because the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth.”
She waited for more explanation, but none came. “Tell me, Husband. How does that affect us? What do we do differently than what we’ve planned?”
“In the future, the birthright will not fall to anyone just because of birth order. The Lord will show me…show us…to whom we are to bestow the birthright. And in the same manner, we will choose that son’s wife from all of his sisters.”
A warmth spread over Jemri’s soul. The Lord had gifted her with such a wise and perceptive husband. She tugged on his tunic sleeve. “We will do as He has put in your heart, but first we must make sons.” She grinned and lifted her brows. Hopefully, even in the dim lamplight, he could see her heart. But just in case, she decided to make sure.
“The part I liked best was when He charged us to be fruitful and multiply.”
His kiss told her everything she needed to know.
The next morning, all the men went down the mountain exploring and returned for the evening meal jubilant, every one. She tried to separate Shem from the others, but Mother had the table loaded and ready before he realized she wanted him alone. How she hated not knowing a thing before the other ladies.
After the meal, but before his second glass of wine, Father stood. “We have found a perfect spot for the house.” He nodded toward Japheth then sat.
The firstborn stood. “Yes, but before that we must build pens and sheds for the animals.”
Why had he done that? Given Japheth the floor instead of her husband? Shem slipped his hand into hers then faced Mother. “The stone we will quarry is equal or even better than what we had in Adam’s Valley.”
“Good. And is there running water? That we can pipe into our home?”
“Yes, Mother, sweet and pure.” Ham smiled at Noah. “And Father has already chosen the field for the vineyard.”
Jemri squeezed her husband’s hand. “How far down is it?”
“Better than twelve furlongs, the second valley from here. The first already has grass sprouting, but it isn’t as protected as the next.” Shem shivered. “The wind blows too raw there. Quite a climb coming back, but it’s where we all need to be.”
Hearty confirmation raced around the table. All the men agreed.
Why had the Lord brought the ark to rest so high on the mountain?
But as she’d heard so many times, His ways were not our ways, neither were His thoughts our thoughts. That’s what Father Enoch always said, according to Father Noah. And that the Lord knew the end even before the beginning. How that could be, she couldn’t understand.
But wondered still, if true, why had He made Father Adam in the first place?
Her husband didn’t know the answer, nor did Mother.
Soon enough, the work they discussed put thoughts of the Lord and His ways from her focus. It nicked her heart some to think of disassembling the ark. The pain in her father’s eyes hurt it even more. For the last one hundred years, he’d worked on building the great vessel, and now the wood was needed for his new home.
Was that why God had brought the ark to rest so high on the mountain?
More questions without answers—they seemed endless.
Regardless though, the task at hand, getting enough material down the mountain to build barns and sheep and goat folds and sheds and fences, would be gargantuan. Every bit as big a job as building the ark. Maybe even more because then the materials were stacked and ready. The timbers of all the stalls would be used first.
“Even using stone and bricks.” Shem explained as though she knew nothing about building a home. “More timber is needed to frame doors, windows, and make the roof rafters.”
Well, she understood they needed some of it, but hadn’t really considered the whole of how to build a grand home the entire family could live in. The work would never end or so it seemed. Besides constructing a house and outbuildings, the vineyards had to be planted and the gardens and crops, the orchards, too.
The day of her first moon cycle came, but the custom of woman did not befall her. She held her peace for six days, twice longer than she’d ever missed before.
That night she could hold the news in no longer.
Each day stacked on top of the last and threatened to bury Shem under the weight of the work. If not for his father’s example…. He pulled off his tunic, slipped out of his sandals, and flopped onto the bed. Praise the Almighty. One more day behind him.
Jemri slipped onto her side and cuddled next to him.
He extended his arm, she raised her head, and he brought her in tighter. He loved the feel of her skin next to his. “How was your day, dear wife? Did you and your sisters get us any material?”
“Yes. More than a wagon’s load of timber and almost two pails of iron.”
“Good.” He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the soreness.
She brought his fingers up to her lips and kissed them. “I have news.”
“Tell me.”
She scooted up on his chest. “My cycle has gone.”
His eyes popped open. “Doesn’t that mean –”
“Yes! Isn’t it exciting? At least I think so. I guess we will not know for certain until another new moon has passed, but I just know that I am with child.”
He grinned. “What wonderful news!”
“Does Mother know? Have you told your sisters?”
“No, silly. Not before I told you. You should be the first to know that you’re going to be a father.”
The next morning, he agreed to silence in regards to her condition. She suggested it, just to be sure before they shared with everyone. Shem liked the idea
of having a secret just he and Jemri knew. And until the quickening, anything could happen, least that’s what he’d heard his father claim his wife shared with him about pregnancy.
Not that his mother had all that much experience herself, but women did talk. For generations, the older schooled the younger. Oh Lord, You sure gifted the females with the ability of turning a ten-word story into a half-day yarn with every little look and nuance relayed and retold.
But praise Elohim, Shem knew how to silence his pretty wife’s beautiful mouth.
He tapped the horse’s rump; the beast started the return journey back to the ark. He’d drawn the lot that day of making the second load; hopefully, there would be another today. He hated it when his middle brother drew the last load. Shem couldn’t put his finger on any one thing, but more times than not, if Ham didn’t draw the first, he wouldn’t make his load at all.
Then of course, he wouldn’t hear of taking the trip he’d previously missed the following morning. No. Rather, he insisted the lots be cast fresh every morn, no doubt hoping to weasel out of his turn altogether another day. On the bright side, soon Shem would get to see Jemri. But he’d sure rather work the wood than climb the mountain back to the ark an extra time.
Once he topped the ridge guarding the plateau where the ark came to rest, his wife waved. Had she been watching for him? Grinning, she waved again and hurried toward him then stopped short. Her hands went to her hips. He loved that little obstinate stance she often took, as though she was about to give him what for, but never did.
“I’ve been waiting! What took you so long?”
He didn’t know how to answer. “Once they emptied the wagon, I came right away. Why? What’s happened?”
She stepped closer and twisted her mouth around like she was trying to find just the right word. “Varsi…well…”
“What?”
“She made me. I didn’t want to, but you know how she is. Once she gets ahold of a thing, I mean.” She put her hands on his chest and smiled. “You aren’t mad though, are you? It really wasn’t my fault.”
How could he be angry at this adorable creature? Even if he had no idea what she prattled on about? “I promise not to be angry, if you’ll explain to me exactly what it is you’re talking about.”
She grinned. “Good, I was hoping you’d see it that way.”
He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her hard, then pulled back and looked into her eyes. “What did she make you do?”
“Tell her about the baby, of course.”
“Oh.” He hadn’t thought of that. He closed one eye and pictured the last moon he’d seen. “Was today the second cycle you missed?’
She nodded.
“We can tell everyone tonight.”
“Well, best not wait if you want to tell the men. Varsi got loud and Myelin heard. My sisters are not good at keeping a thing hidden. I figured if I was going to get to tell Mother, I’d better do it quick before Myelin stole my thunder.”
“So Mother knows, too?”
Her smile broadened, and her eyes twinkled. “Yes, and she’s about to burst with joy. She’s so happy for us, it’s…it’s…beyond measure!”
Shem knew the emotion in his mother’s heart, understood it well. And it only increased with the girth of his wife’s belly. She sewed up a storm and had Myelin weaving hours every day. After six moons, at the dinner table, she stood and lifted her glass toward him and Jemri. “You make this old woman so happy.”
His wife’s twin stood, too, and raised hers as well. “And me!”
“I’m certain for at least twins!” Hattimas gushed. “But perhaps even more sweet lives struggle in your womb. Triplets wouldn’t surprise me at all.”
That night, like the boys wanted to confirm their grandmother’s words, he saw two different kicks on each side of Jemri’s overgrown tummy.
She squealed then looked at him across the bed. “Did you see that?”
“I did. Appears we might need one more name.”
That year, nine months to the day from when the Lord commanded Shem and Jemri to be fruitful and multiply, she delivered two strong and healthy sons, Elam and his paternal twin Asshur. As if not to be outdone, her sisters also soon bore sons. Myelin gave Ham a large baby boy named Cush, twice the size of the twins. And shortly after came Gomer, Japheth and Varsi’s firstborn.
As if the delivery of twins wasn’t enough, Jemri gave Shem his third son, Arphaxad, ten months later, two years after the flood. While the family grew, the ladies helped less and less with the building, but to Shem nothing mattered but his wife and children. His father had told him how things would change, but he hadn’t understood until it actually happened.
Then in the twentieth spring after the flood, everything changed again.
Chapter Ten
Noah lowered his near hand and eyed it. “Another thumb tip’s worth.”
The boys let the rope slip a bit. The capstone eased into place.
“Remove the support poles.”
Noah held his breath as his son’s twin sons pulled the last post. The arch held, but then why wouldn’t it? He built his and Hattimas’ new home exactly as his fathers had constructed the original, the one Adam had started so many years before. Minor changes were made to the floorplan that he and she had discussed during the year on the ark.
“Good.” He nodded toward the door. “Go play for a while. You young men have done well. You deserve a break.”
Elam and Asshur led the way with Arphaxad a close third. What a clan the Lord had given him, so many sons and daughters. He chuckled. So many it oft proved difficult to keep all their names straight. He strolled through the rooms. It would be such a grand home with many walls opened since the larger rooms were planned from the beginning that time and not added on.
But if the girls kept birthing babies, it wouldn’t be big enough for them all.
Sixteen sons and ten daughters born after the flood and all three of his daughters with child again.
Canaan burst through the front door, looked around, and spotted him then scowled. “Grandfather, they’re not being fair.”
He held out his arms. The boy ran into them. “What’s wrong, Son?”
“They get me out first every time.”
“What game are you boys playing?”
“Dodge, and Aram hit me in the back when I wasn’t looking.”
“How old are you now, Son?”
“Twelve.”
“Maybe you should just watch. The big boys can play rough sometimes.”
Ham’s youngest son stepped away and wrinkled his nose. “No, I want to play. Tell them not to pick on me.”
“Isn’t Aram only a year older than you?”
“Yes, but still….”
Whining always irritated Noah, grated his peace, but he kept his tone even. “Go on then. And be ready for the next round. Keep better watch. We’ll be going to the quarry soon enough to cut stone. Then you’ll be sorry you’ve wasted your playtime tattling.”
Canaan seemed to want to say more, but Noah silenced him with a look.
His grandson finally stiffened his back and sallied forth to do battle with his older cousins. What fun it must be to have so many young men so close to his age as playmates. He walked out the back door and looked toward the peak, but for the last ten years, he’d not been able to see the ark, not since he and his sons had removed the last of the roof.
Then it struck him.
He suddenly knew exactly what he needed to do. He’d take them all, his three sons and their sixteen boys. Perhaps the Lord would speak to him again. Or even better, send fire like He once did upon God’s Mountain in Adam’s Valley. Before the flood. He scanned his own valley from the north to its southern tip.
How many generations would call it Noah’s Valley?
The rest of that day, he mulled over the plan.
That even in the grand hall after the meal, but before his second mug of wine, he stood and waited until the conversations faded
to a hush. “In one week, when we take the herds to the high valley grazing, all the males will come along. We will offer a sacrifice to God in the highest place and see the ark together.”
Shem nodded and held out his goblet. “Well said, Father. It is a good plan.”
Not that Noah needed his son’s blessing, but he appreciated his agreement. “Make preparations then. See to the tents and whatever else we’ll need. We can draw lots once there to see who stays behind for the first moon.”
With each of the seven days of preparation, hope in his heart grew. Twenty years? Nothing compared to the whole of his life; still, before the flood he witnessed God’s finger every year. Each time, his soul washed anew by His Presence. But from the first sacrifice after the flood, Noah had brought the fire.
That last night before he and his sons left for the high place where the ark had come to rest, he knelt beside his bed. “Speak to us, Abba. Send fire again, accept my sin offering. For the sakes of my sons and their sons. For my sake.”
He waited, but heard nothing. “Come to bed, Husband.”
He raised his head off the hardwood floor. Having the same boards from his room in the ark comforted him some, but perhaps on the morrow…
“Hurry, it’s cold in here, and you’re going to be gone for too many days.”
Wanting to please his wife in every way, he complied, but then he loved her with his whole being. If only the Lord would give her a child in their old age. Though she rarely spoke of it, she’d shared her heart and the pain of only bearing the three sons and no others. In the history of the people, no other wife bore so few children.
Shem tied off the final piece of jute rope over the last corner of the third wagon. He’d seen to it all. Japheth helped as always, and bless Abba’s Holy Name, Ham stayed out of the way doing whatever he wasted his days away doing. Seemed each year he contended less and less for what he believed to be his rightful place.
How things had changed. Until his brother’s love for Varsi compelled him to bargain away his inheritance, Shem sensed the order a mistake. Abba made all things right, gave him the birthright and the wife he wanted all along.
