by Tim Chaffey
Noah chuckled and slid the fish into his bag. “I don’t think there’s much chance of that. He’s far better than I am.”
“If you say so. It’s hard for me to tell the difference. I just don’t have an eye for that sort of thing.”
“Maybe, but you can grow a crop of beans in a weed-infested field.” Noah climbed the short steps to Darge’s front door. “I’ll meet you at the market after I’m done here.”
“Very well, Son.”
Noah opened the door and stepped in. A wave of memories blasted him as the familiar wooden scents struck his nostrils. How many times had he explored this small shop looking for a new contraption to occupy his free time? How many times had he listened to Darge weave tales of adventure to the children who came to see his leg? A smile tugged at his lips as the fond memories flooded his mind.
“Ah, young Noah. Morning peace.” Darge stood up behind his counter and smiled. On a shelf farther back rested two dozen pegs that the children enjoyed the most. “Did you come to see my newest leg?”
Noah’s smile widened, and he stepped across the room, skirting wooden toys set in piles around the floor. “Morning peace, Darge.” The two men exchanged a firm hand-to-forearm grip before Noah reached into the sack slung around his shoulder. “It’s great to see you. I’d be happy to see your latest work, but first I wanted to give you something.”
“What’s this?” The middle-aged man cracked a broad smile as he took the gift. “You made me a fish peg?”
It pleased Noah to see the man’s delight. “Not just any fish peg. I tried to make it like yours from so many years ago — the one you wore the day my father bought my first set of carving knives from you.”
“Your craftsmanship is remarkable.” Darge held the gift up close to his face and turned it slowly, inspecting the quality. “Well, let’s see if it fits.” He bent over and replaced his current prosthesis with the wooden fish, locking it into place. He gently placed his weight on it and then took a couple of steps. “It’s perfect. Thank you for this.”
Noah nodded. His eyes moved from Darge’s face to the previous peg now resting on the counter. “And is this your latest?”
“It is.” Darge handed it to Noah. “What do you think?”
Now it was Noah’s turn to marvel. It was clearly a bird with its wings spread out — the two wingtips corresponding to the two ends of the peg. The feathers had been exquisitely cut into the wood. A sharp hooked beak and a pair of perfectly formed clawed feet jutted out from the middle. “It’s magnificent.”
“Do you recognize it?”
“Yes, it looks like a soaring taroc. Spectacular.” With no small effort, Noah pulled his gaze away from the bird and caught Darge’s eyes. “What tale will you spin today to go with this?” Noah gently returned the masterpiece to its designer’s hands.
Darge grinned. “I’ve been dreaming up a good one. The children will love it. You should stick around for old times’ sake.”
“I’d love to, but I need to help my father in the —” Noah’s eyes focused on an intricately designed box on the counter. “What’s this?”
“I wondered how long it would take before you noticed my latest invention.” Darge picked up the miniature chest and handed it to Noah. “It’s a puzzle safe.”
Noah flashed a quizzical look. “A puzzle safe?”
“See all of these small cubes on the top? Each of these can twist and move around. When they are arranged in just the right sequence, the box will open.”
About 30 little blocks were nested in the cover. Noah moved some of them and twisted others. “Fascinating. What’s it for?”
“You can put valuables in there or anything that you’d want to keep from the prying eyes of your brother or sister.” Darge flashed a half grin. “Just put them in the puzzle safe, spin a few blocks, and they’ll never get into it without breaking the entire thing. But it’s pretty sturdy. What do you think?”
“It’s amazing, but I can’t open it.”
“That’s because you don’t know the arrangement.” Darge reached out and placed the box on the table. “I used slightly different colors for the blocks so that they would create a picture when it’s finished.” He quickly spun parts and slid them into place. The pieces soon formed a recognizable shape, which filled out more and more as Darge worked.
“It looks like a long-eared bounder,” Noah said.
Darge slid the final piece into place. “Because that’s what it is. Watch this.” He flipped a latch on the front of the box to the side and lifted the lid. About a span in length and width, the well-oiled interior drew out the deep colors in the grain.
Noah let out a quiet whistle. “Is it for sale?”
Darge nodded. “One silver pikka, but for you Noah, I’d sell it for three copper pikkas.”
Noah’s pulse quickened in excitement. “Only three pikkas? I’ll take it.” He unfastened the leather strip around his neck and counted the small flat piks and round pikkas of copper and silver that were strung on it. After some quick calculating, Noah slipped off a silver ball and handed it to Darge. “I don’t mind paying full price for something like this. Besides, the Creator has truly blessed our farm this year. I can afford it.”
The shopkeeper dropped the silver pikka into a drawer beneath his counter. “Thank you, Noah, and may He continue to bless you and your family.”
“Thank you, and may He do the same for your family.” Noah turned to leave. “Farewell, Darge.”
“Farewell, Noah. Don’t be a stranger.”
Noah slipped the unique box into his bag and left the store. After his eyes adjusted to the morning’s brightness, he hurried down the street, passing several shops and a handful of farmers with their carts or wagons in tow. He turned right at the end of the street and made his way down the hill. The famers’ market was just getting started. Wagons, booths, and tables of every type of fruit, vegetable, herb, and nut Noah had ever known were on display. He spotted Meru among the animal stalls to his left so he knew his father had arrived. The Hiddekel flowed softly behind the market. One small dock extended about 30 paces into the water. Beyond the river lay rolling hills covered with forest as far as the eye could see.
Noah wove his way around multiple tables and greeted each vendor he passed. He recognized all of them, but some were mere acquaintances. He found his father busily organizing their wagon for a day of trading and sales. “Sorry I’m late.”
Lamech looked up from his work. “Actually, you’re right on time. Help me with these.”
One by one, Noah and his father unlatched each side wall of the wagon and allowed them to hang beneath the flatbed. They slid their wares to the edge, and using a low table Noah had built, they elevated the fruits and vegetables in the middle of the bed so that every item could be easily viewed.
“So what did Darge think of his gift?” Lamech asked.
“He really liked it.”
“Noah.” A deep voice resonated behind him.
Noah knew that voice. He spun quickly to greet one of his father’s friends. “Master Toman, it’s great to see you.”
The broad-shouldered, barrel-chested man stood a handbreadth higher than Noah. His wavy jet-black hair and deep brown eyes complemented his dark complexion. If any man was as strong as Meru, this was he. Toman nodded. “And it’s good to see you, young Noah, son of Lamech. Your father tells me that you want to be a carpenter’s apprentice.”
Noah glanced back at Lamech, who turned away and acted as if he weren’t paying attention, but not before Noah saw the gleam in his father’s eyes. Noah fought back a smile and faced Toman again. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, as I told your father, my brother is a carpenter and lives a one-day journey from here. I don’t know if he’s looking for an apprentice or would even want one, but I’d be happy to send word to him to find out. That is, if you’re interested.”
Noah instantly pictured himself as an apprentice who quickly made a name for himself because of his work. It took a moment for his m
ind to come back and configure a response. “Yes, please find out for me.”
The man nodded again. “Your father tells me that your Rovay celebration is next whole moon. Hard to believe you’re that old already.”
“Yes.” Noah stood tall. “I’ll officially be a man.”
“I’ll try to get word from my brother before that.” Toman held out his arm.
Noah cringed internally and braced himself for the vice that would soon crush his forearm as he extended his hand. He squeezed Toman’s arm tight, but his fingers didn’t seem to make a dent in the man’s muscle-bound forearm. At the same time, Noah imagined his own hand going numb from the man’s mighty grip. Finally, Toman released the vice and Noah felt the blood flowing back to his hand.
“I will see you soon,” Toman said.
“I’m looking forward to it. Thank you!”
Noah turned and walked over to his father, who was arranging some of their first crop of leafy vegetables. When he was sure Toman was no longer looking, Noah stretched out his fingers and arm, hoping to loosen the muscles up again. “Father.” He waited for the man to look up. When he did, Noah gave him a tight hug. “Thank you.” After releasing him, Noah looked him in the eye, and cracked a smile. “I’ll finish setting up. Why don’t you visit Nuca, so we get some of those beans before we both forget.”
Chapter 5
Noah darted across the yard, slowing just enough for Misha to stay right on his tail without catching him. Playfully, he taunted her as he zigged and zagged just out of her reach. “C’mon Meesh. You almost caught me.”
More than two dozen young people cheered her on, waiting for her to tag him so another game could start. “Go, Misha!” “Get him!” “He’s an old man now!”
Noah dashed behind a syringut tree. Misha stopped, waiting to see which side he would come out. She giggled as he faked one way and then the next. Noah surveyed his options as the others slowly closed in, making his escape more difficult. He sprinted to the right and easily avoided his sister. He looked back to see how near she was. As he spun back, he caught Jerah out of the corner of his eye.
“Watch out.” Jerah pushed Noah to the side and laughed.
Noah lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. He got on his hands and knees, but before he could scramble to his feet, Misha jumped on his back and screamed in triumph.
Noah stood up as easily as if his sister weighed nothing at all. She let go and he turned to hug her. “You got me.” He grinned at Jerah. “I’m not sure if it was fair, but you got me.”
Misha jumped away. “Let’s play again.”
“Just one more,” Noah said as he brushed some grass and dirt off his robe. “Who wants to start?” Since Noah had been the last one caught, he won the right to pick who would start the next game. He looked at his brother and tapped a finger on his chin, faking a tough decision, but then turned and pointed at his cousin, Dunal, who was about the same age as Jerah. “You start.”
The youths scattered to avoid Dunal, who had started counting.
Aterre came around the corner of the house. “Noah!”
“Is it time?” Noah asked.
“That’s what your father sent me to tell you.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.” Noah caught Dunal’s attention. “You’re in charge now.”
“Alright,” Dunal said. “I’m looking forward to your big night.”
Noah nodded and followed Aterre. His friends and close relatives had gathered to celebrate his Rovay today. By this evening, he would be considered a man. Every part of the day was designed to celebrate this rite of passage. In the morning, he played games with all those under 40. Now he would meet with his father and some other godly men. They would pray with him and for him as he prepared his mind and heart for the evening events. Then he would bathe and put on his father’s ceremonial clothes to offer, for the very first time, sacrifices on behalf of his family. When it was complete, neighbors and friends would join them for a great feast in his honor, and they would celebrate late into the night. Noah glanced back at his younger relatives, feeling the symbolism of leaving them behind. I’m no longer a child.
“You look nervous.” Aterre nudged him with his shoulder.
“Because I am.” Noah cracked his knuckles. “This is important for my family and for me. My grandfather says that we’ve practiced this for many generations.”
“So you’ll offer the sacrifices tonight, and then what?”
“Then once I get married, it’ll be my responsibility to offer them for my family each year.”
Aterre stopped and motioned to the crowd of young people running around the yard. “You have your eye on any particular young lady?”
Noah laughed. “Honestly, I haven’t given it much thought yet.” It was fairly common for a man to marry a close relative, and Jerah occasionally teased him about their cousin, Pivi. Although she had grown quite lovely, Noah had never had more than friendly feelings for her. He knew that the teasing was really due to Jerah’s own interest. He scanned the grounds — sure enough, Jerah seemed more interested in flirting with Pivi than the game. He looked back at Aterre. “I’m more nervous about what Toman might say tonight.”
“And if his brother wants an apprentice, you’re just going to leave me here?”
Noah shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “Maybe. At least you like farming. Besides, this way you and Jerah could fight over who gets to marry Pivi.”
Aterre pushed him and then sprinted for the house with Noah close behind.
* * * * *
The fire crackled and an overpowering aroma of burning flesh assaulted Noah’s nostrils as he raised his arms. “Almighty Creator, please look with favor on this sacrifice and continue to bless Your servants.”
A thick gray cloud enveloped him as he opened his eyes, causing them to burn and tear up. The smoke blocked any view of the house or barn at the bottom of the hill and obscured the early evening sun. Pulling part of his robe over his nose, Noah bent low and picked up the blood-soaked knife he had just used to kill the fatling. He had watched his father perform the sacrifice annually. The grain was offered first, and Noah had little trouble putting the firstfruits of their harvest on the fire. But the blood sacrifice was always painful. Even when his father did the actual killing, Noah’s heart ached as he watched their best young bovar squirm and kick during its final breaths.
He had just learned how much harder it was to slit the animal’s throat and hold onto it while its life flowed out. Blinking back tears, he glanced at the burning sacrifice, haunted by the stare of betrayal the young bovar had fixed on him in its final moments, horrified anew at the cost of sin.
As the fire burned lower, Noah stood and wiped the knife and his bloody hands on his apron. Head low, he stepped away from the flames and joined his family, who knelt around the earthen altar. Lamech placed a hand on Noah’s shoulder and said a prayer of thanksgiving for the Creator’s provision in spite of the Curse on the ground.
The annual sacrifice came to a close after several other men prayed. Noah rose and looked again at the offering. The fatling was nearly burned up and the fire smoldered. As they descended the hill to prepare for the feast, several family members congratulated Noah on a job well done.
His ceremonial duties complete for the day, Noah focused on the crowd gathering near the house. One man in particular stood out, or rather, above the others. Noah fought the urge to run toward Toman, but he could not resist picking up his pace. The large man spotted Noah and made his way through the crowd to him.
“Master Toman, thank you for coming.”
“Congratulations, Noah. You have grown into an honorable young man.” Toman held out his hand for his customary painful greeting.
Noah held up his blood-stained arm. “My apologies, sir. I haven’t yet had an opportunity to wash up.”
Toman pulled back his hand, unaware of Noah’s relief. “I well remember my first sacrifice.”
Noah nodded and a solemn feeling came
over him as he reflected on his first sacrifice. “Indeed.” An awkward silence hung for a moment as Noah tried to figure out how to shift the conversation. He decided a direct approach would be best. “Master Toman, have you received word from your brother about an apprenticeship?”
The smile vanished from Toman’s lips. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news on your big day. I wish it could be better. My brother said that he just took on a young charge earlier this year, and as long as it works out, he won’t need another one for nearly four years.”
Noah unsuccessfully fought against showing disappointment. “I understand. I appreciate you asking him.”
“I’ll be sure to let you know if the situation changes.” Toman put an encouraging hand on Noah’s shoulder. “I know you have your heart set on this. Trust the Creator. If He wants you to learn carpentry, then He will guide you to that when the time is right.”
The corner of Noah’s lip curled up in a half-smile. “Thank you, Master Toman.” Noah believed his tall friend was correct. The Creator would make His will known when the time was right. But that did not make it easy for his restless heart to wait. Still, a feast in his honor was about to begin, and he wasn’t ready for it. “I’d better wash up.” Toman nodded and turned to greet others.
Noah entered the house, determined to hold his head high this night, even though his hopes had been dashed. On his way to his room, he dodged several women, who were scuttling about in final preparations for the feast.
He entered his room and went to the bucket of water. Scrubbing the bloodstains off his hands and arms took longer than he anticipated, and despite his best efforts, thin semicircles of dried blood lined his fingernails. Eager to get back to the celebration, he put on the brand new robe his mother had woven specially for this evening. Deep blue strips stitched onto the light brown fabric gave this outfit a more distinguished look than his ordinary work clothes. Noah closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and then let it out. Creator, thank You for bringing so many loved ones here today. Help me to see past my disappointment so that I may see Your goodness. Help me to trust You in all things.
