Noah

by Tim Chaffey

  Naamah looked at Tubal-Cain, her eyebrows raised. He shrugged but did not look as at ease as earlier. Several more people hurried into the room. Adah struggled and writhed in pain. Concern spread across the faces of those attending her. Naamah nibbled her little finger. Maybe she’ll die and we can go back to the way things were. She shook her head. Come on, Naamah. How could you think that? That’s not fair.

  Fighting to rein in her thoughts, Naamah focused on the turmoil at the bedside. Adah groaned weakly several times, and one of the attendants rushed to summon the father and his new son back to the bedside. He leaned close, whispering something to his wife. She sat up and gripped the sheets tightly.

  “There’s another one!” a midwife shouted to no one in particular. After a few agonizing moments, another cry broke the air.

  A nursemaid examined the newest addition. “A second son!”

  Naamah’s father exchanged the first twin for the second and held him up. He looked at Adah. “Two boys! You are indeed worthy to be my wife.” He turned to face his older children. To Naamah it seemed as if he were on the stage and they were merely shadows whose only value came from his attention. “Zillah, Tubal-Cain, Naamah, come see my two sons.”

  Slowly, Naamah separated from the wall and followed her mother and brother. The painful grip that had been squeezing her heart ever since Adah’s arrival intensified and dug in its fingernails. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to keep her composure. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she looked into the caring face of her brother and exhaled, the pain just a little less because it was shared.

  Chapter 7

  Iri Sana — Noah’s 40th year

  I’ll miss you too.” Noah bent low and wrapped his arms tightly around his sister.

  “I don’t want you to go,” Misha said.

  “I know, but this is something I have to do.” He kissed her cheek, let go of her, and turned to his brother.

  “It’s about time you leave.” Jerah smiled and hugged him.

  “I love you too.” Noah laughed. “Take care of our sister.”

  “You know I will.”

  Noah pulled back, put his hands on Jerah’s shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. “I’ll miss you broth —” He choked up and then swallowed the lump in his throat. “Honor the Creator.”

  While Aterre said his farewell to his stand-in parents, Noah took in the familiar surroundings one more time. The early morning sun was mostly hidden behind light gray clouds that released a soft drizzle. The gentle current of the Hiddekel lapped the side of the boat, which was partially beached on the shore at the edge of their property. Taht, their trusty pack animal, stood unsteadily on the deck, apparently unsure what to make of the lightly swaying surface. She was secured in a small pen next to their bags. Red and pale green malids sparsely populated the trees in the orchard. Sacrifice Hill rose to their right, its top obscured by fog.

  When Aterre turned his attention to Jerah, Noah stepped to his mother and held her fast.

  “I can’t believe how quickly the time has gone.” She kissed his cheek. “Be safe, Son.”

  “I will. I love you, Mother.” He kissed the top of her head and freed his grip. “I’ll miss you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Lamech embraced Noah. “Never forsake the Creator’s ways. He will guide your steps as you walk with Him.”

  “I won’t forget.” Noah wiped his face to remove some of the light rain as well as his tears. “I love you, Father. Thank you for everything.”

  “I love you, Son.” Lamech released Noah and his eyes welled up. “Remember, if things don’t work out. ”

  “We’ll be on the first boat back home.” Noah backed away and looked at his family against the backdrop of the only home he had ever known. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled. “I can’t believe this is really happening. I’ll miss you all so much. May the Creator keep you safe and well.”

  Each family member said their farewell. Noah wanted this moment to extend longer — at least part of him did — but he also wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take.

  “You ready then?” Aterre asked, as if reading Noah’s thoughts.

  Noah wiped his eyes again and nodded. “Let’s go.”

  He couldn’t believe how the days had passed by so swiftly. At the onset of the agreement with his father to wait until after the harvest, the delay felt long. But now that time seemed to have vanished like a night fog on a sunny morning. Noah was satisfied with what they had accomplished. The majority of the produce from the garden had been gathered for Misha and Nina to preserve for the land’s rest season. The grains and grasses had also been harvested and properly stored. During the last few weeks, Noah and Aterre trained two young hired hands on the inner workings of the farm. They caught on quickly during the harvest, leaving Noah confident that his father would be able to maintain productivity in the next year.

  As Noah and Aterre walked up the small incline onto the boat, Noah looked the vessel over. It stretched no more than 20 cubits from bow to stern, yet was the biggest boat he had ever boarded because it was the only boat he had ever been on. His father had made arrangements and paid for this trip during a previous visit to Iri Sana, and Noah had eagerly met the crew when they loaded their cargo moments earlier.

  Deks, the leader of the ship’s three-man crew, gripped Noah’s forearm. “Allow me to officially welcome you aboard my boat.”

  “I’m glad to be here. Let us know if you need any help along the way.”

  “I’m sure we’ll find plenty for you to do.” Deks pointed to the ramp. “You can start by giving me a hand with this.”

  “I got it.” Aterre bent down and grabbed one side of the wooden incline while Deks picked up the other side. They stowed it along the inside edge of the boat.

  Noah slipped the bag off his shoulder and set it next to the rest of their gear, which was packed under a hide to keep it from getting soaked. Looking to occupy himself with something other than the sorrowful thoughts of missing his family, he scratched the back of Taht’s neck, just beneath her short black mane, comforted by the familiarity she brought. “How you doing, girl?”

  One of the crew shoved the boat away from the shore and jumped in, splashing the deck and soaking the hem of his garment in the process as the small craft drifted backward. The other crew member spun the boat until it faced downstream by stabbing a long, sturdy pole into the water.

  Noah’s family stood near the shore. His mother waved while wiping a tear with her other hand. His father appeared stoic, but Noah knew the man agonized over his departure. Jerah waved both hands above his head while sporting a crooked smile.

  Misha ran next to the river, her long dress flapping against her heels. “It’s not too late to stay, Noah!”

  Noah forced a smile and couldn’t stop a couple of tears from appearing. “I love you, Meesh!”

  Aterre moved close to Noah. “So do I, little sister!”

  She continued along the Hiddekel’s edge, struggling to stay even with the boat yet not giving up. She passed the orchard and slowed when she neared the bank of the stream that emptied into the river, where a little over a year ago, her brothers had fought with Aterre. Misha stopped at the stream as if finally acknowledging that she had to let go.

  A flood of emotions rushed through Noah. He ached for Misha and wondered if he was making the right decision. He had known it would be difficult to leave, but he hadn’t realized it would hurt so much. And he hadn’t considered how much it would affect his little sister. She was only half his age, and there was so much of her childhood that he would miss. For a brief moment, he considered jumping out of the boat and swimming to her, but the thrill of adventure and conviction that he was following the Creator’s will overrode his emotions.

  Noah’s family became smaller and smaller as the boat drifted farther away. Jerah had reached Misha and put an arm around her. She clutched him tightly. His father remained where the boat had launched, holding his wife close.r />
  The river carried the vessel around a bend, blocking Noah’s view of his loved ones. He closed his eyes and turned around. O Most High, please watch over them and keep them safe. Please help Jerah and Misha to follow Your ways. Noah took a deep breath and let it out before opening his eyes. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds before quickly retreating, and a light breeze blew across his face.

  “That was harder than I expected,” Aterre said, breaking the silence.

  Noah forced a half smile, appreciating Aterre’s frankness. “Much harder.” He scanned both sides of the river and felt a surge of energy course through his body. “But look. We’re really doing it.”

  “Yep, you finally get to see the world.”

  “And what do you want?” Noah looked at his friend, suddenly realizing that Aterre might have goals and dreams of his own.

  “I’m not totally sure. I know I eventually want to find a place to call my own.”

  “You could have done that by staying with my family.”

  “True. But being a part of your family has made me long to know what really happened to mine. I assumed they were killed like the others in my village, but I don’t know that for sure. If they are still alive, I need to find out somehow. I don’t know how to begin, but I do know that Iri Sana is too small and too far away to get word of them. Who knows? Maybe someone we encounter on this journey will be able to help. Plus, we’re going to a seaport. I’ll have a better chance of running into someone who knows something of those raiders and their prisoners there.”

  “I’ll do what I can to help.” Noah clapped Aterre on the back. “Well, future, here we come.” He bent down and ran a finger along the ship’s deck. “I can’t believe that I’ll actually get to build these.” He grinned up at Aterre and increased his volume in confidence and excitement. “I’m going to be a shipbuilder.”

  “You say you’re going to build boats?”

  Noah turned to see the ship’s captain lumbering toward them, his uneven gait slow and purposeful. “Yes, sir.”

  Deks pushed back a lock of black hair that had stuck to the side of his wind-hardened face. “Then you must be heading all the way to Iri Geshem to work for Ara.”

  “You know Ara?”

  “Met him one time, when I bought this rig.” He scratched the dark stubble on his chin. “That would’ve been about 20 years ago. Nice fellow, that Ara. You know him?”

  “Not yet. He’s my grandfather’s cousin. I’m planning to become an apprentice.”

  “Well, I hope you have the talent.” Deks stamped his foot on the deck. “Ara’s craftsmanship is without equal.” He turned to his assistant on Noah’s right. “Valur, if all goes well, our next boat might be built by our passenger here.”

  Valur looked at Noah. The muscles on his sun-darkened forearms rippled as he gripped the long pole he used to keep the boat from gliding too close to the shore. His dark hair was loosely tied up behind his head. “Is that a fact? Well, youngster, make it a good one, and if you can figure out how to make these things larger, we’d make a lot more profit on each of these trips.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” the other assistant said.

  “You’d drink to anything, Recharu,” Valur said.

  The portly man’s belly jiggled as he chuckled. “That I would. But I’d drink double to a larger boat because I could afford it.”

  “Only if you did double the work,” Deks said. “In your case, that wouldn’t be too hard since double of nothing is still nothing. I’m surprised you haven’t asked for a break already.”

  Recharu waved him off. “I was just getting ready to ask our guests if one of them would like to fill in for me so I can take care of the sail.”

  “I would.” Noah hustled over to the heavyset man. “Show me what to do.”

  “The river opens up in a bit, and we’ll steer with the rudder then. But for now, take this.” Recharu handed Noah the long rod. “Just keep pushing down into the water to make sure it’s deep enough for the boat. This thing has a draft of about three cubits.”

  “That means that it sinks three cubits into the water?” Noah asked.

  “That’s right. If you see us drifting toward the shore, push us back toward the middle.”

  Noah steadied himself and plunged the pole into the water. He drove it at least eight cubits deep, without finding the bottom. He brought it back up and waited until Valur put his pole into the water to repeat the action.

  Recharu and Deks untied the small sail attached to the mast. They quickly hoisted it and fastened it in place, angling it to catch the wind. The boat lurched forward.

  “I’ll steer, Boss,” Recharu said. He walked to the front of the ship and grabbed the navigating mechanism, which was essentially a waist-high rod connected to a post that ran below deck.

  “How does that control the steering?” Aterre asked.

  “Have a seat,” Deks said. “Noah, you can put that down and join us.”

  Noah found a spot near Aterre as Valur went into the small cabin near the rear of the boat.

  Deks pointed to where Recharu manned his post. “That shaft is connected to another rod down below through a series of gears, and that one runs to the back and connects to the rudder.”

  “Rudder?” Noah asked.

  “It’s a fairly small piece of wood at the rear that steers the entire ship. So when Recharu moves the shaft, it turns the rudder, allowing us to steer wherever we want to go.”

  “I would never have thought of that,” Aterre said.

  “Like I said, Ara is the best,” Deks said.

  “This may seem like a silly question.” Noah scratched the back of his neck. “Obviously, the current and sail propel us downriver, but how do you make it back against the current? I’ve watched your boat go up and down the river over the years, but I was never sure how that worked.”

  “That’s not a silly question. We use the sail, which usually means moving in a zigzag across the river to continue catching the wind properly. It takes longer; what takes three days going downriver becomes nearly twice as long to return, and that’s only if we have some wind. If it’s a calm day, we don’t go very far.”

  Soon the morning fog lifted and the light rain stopped, revealing the tops of the trees on either side of the river. With no sign of civilization, the land’s ruggedness heightened Noah’s sense of adventure. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his knees. “You said earlier that you’ve only met Ara one time.”

  “That’s right,” Deks said.

  “Why don’t you sail all the way to Iri Geshem? I’m sure the people there would want some of the products from around here.”

  “I’m sure they would.” Deks leaned against Noah’s small pile of belongings. “It just wouldn’t be worth the trouble to take the boat that far. Not far beyond Birtzun, the river gets pretty rough, and I don’t want to risk wrecking my source of income.”

  “So you just travel between Birtzun and Iri Sana?” Aterre asked.

  Deks nodded. “Mostly. There are a few small stops along the way that we occasionally make.”

  “It’s a three-day journey to Birtzun, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  Aterre rubbed his eyes and yawned. “So what’s Birtzun like?”

  “In the daytime, it’s a lot like Iri Sana, but a little bigger.” Deks flashed a mischievous smile. “But when it gets dark, well, let’s just say that good boys like you wouldn’t want to be part of the night life. It can be a pretty rough place, especially around the taverns.”

  Recharu looked back at them. “I love the taverns. You just have to keep your head down and guard your money.”

  Noah raised an eyebrow. “What time will we arrive?”

  Deks laughed. “No need to worry, young Noah. We should get there in the middle of the day. You’ll have plenty of time to pick up provisions at their market, and then take the southern road that leads toward Iri Geshem.”

  Chapter 8

  Birtzun — Noah�
��s 40th year

  Thank you for taking us this far. We appreciate your help, and I really enjoyed learning about the boat.” Noah deposited three silver pikkas into Deks’s hand and waved to Recharu and Valur, who busied themselves unloading cargo to sell at Birtzun’s market.

  Valur grunted as he struggled to stabilize his awkward load. “Farewell.” Recharu set down the tall crate he was carrying and waved. “Remember, Noah. Bigger boats.”

  Noah laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Deks held out his empty hand and met Noah’s eyes squarely as the two men gripped forearms. “Buy what you need and then head out of town on the south road. You’d do well to be a good ways out of town when it gets dark. And guard your belongings.”

  Noah nodded, unconcerned. As Deks had promised, they had arrived with plenty of time left before the sun went down. “I hope to see you again someday.”

  “Likewise. Farewell.”

  Noah and Aterre walked beside Taht toward one of the fruit stands. The beast pulled a small two-wheeled cart, laden with their belongings, up the gentle slope. The market was about the same size as the one at Iri Sana, but the tightly spaced structures that made up the surrounding town were larger and more established. The buildings occupied either side of the wide street like eager animals lined up in the barn, ready to greet whomever passed by. Colors abounded. Dozens of small flags hung in rows, connecting one rooftop to another. At least six shops proudly displayed their wares of brightly dyed garments. A few buildings boasted vibrant awnings, under which were round crates displaying produce of varied type and quality.

  A dizzying array of sounds filled this marketplace. People clustered in groups, laughing and talking. Loud bartering punctuated the pervasive hum of voices as merchants argued the value of their wares with savvy customers. A calic barked as it chased behind a small child. Noah looked in the direction of a sudden bleat and saw rows of animals tethered at one end of the long street, each waiting for its master to return.