Then The Deluge Comes (The Generations Book 2)

by Caryl McAdoo

  His words seemed to motivate his brothers, and it got quiet enough for him to hear the thoughts in his heart. From the first he laid eyes on her, he had not been able to think about much else.

  He could wait for her however many years it took, so long as he knew that one day, she would be his wife. But he wanted no other.

  That evening while he worked alone on his room, after the third time he asked himself how she would want it done, a realization wrapped his heart. This was the essence of love, and he loved her, wanted to please her in every way.

  Whatever it took, she had to be his. Then a horrible thought nipped at him.

  What if she did not love him?

  What if she thought him an old man? From what his grandfather had said, in Nod no one lived very long. Why would that be? And how was it different in Adam’s Valley?

  The unfinished room mocked him. He had to stop thinking of such things. She would love him. He was sure of it. In seven more days, one short week, he and his brothers would draw lots. It would be settled then.

  She would be his. It could be no other way. But right then, he needed to return to the task at hand.

  She would never be his wife until his father deemed his room complete.

  The days slipped by until the evening he’d dreaded—and looked forward to—arrived. The Feast of the Firstborns, except his brothers had been allowed a seat at Adam’s table to join in the traditional feast.

  So unlike the days of old when only those who bore the birthright attended. Though he never admitted it, he would prefer they not be.

  He was the oldest.

  Mother insisted the girls were to know nothing of the decision to be made that night, though they, too, had been invited to enjoy the Lord’s bounty.

  Japheth loved the festive dresses his mother had arrayed them in. Then with bellies filled, as the oil lamps neared refilling, she ushered them off to their beds.

  After too many beats of his pounding heart—could everyone hear?—Mother returned and took her seat.

  Grandfather Methuselah held out the leather bag. “Whoever draws the white rock will choose first. The other two will draw again. Understood?”

  “Yes, Father,” Japheth managed, but he wanted to scream no, it was not right. But he held the words back.

  The bag passed from Methuselah to his son Lamech who shook it, then on to Japheth’s father who shook it even longer than his grandfather. Finally, he held it out to Japheth. His fingers trembled as he held the pouch up. He stuck his hand in. As planned, he picked the first rock he touched, closed his fist around it, then waited for his brothers to retrieve their lot.

  “Hold your hands out.”

  He had to grip his wrist with his off hand to keep it still.

  “Unfold your fingers.”

  Black? No. It couldn’t be. He was the eldest, and should get to choose first. It was his right as firstborn. He tore his eyes off his hand and looked over. Shem held the white one.

  Oh, Lord. What am I going to do?

  Again, he and Ham drew. His twin seemed so unconcerned, yet again he drew the black rock. Last. He was to take the leftover. No choice for him at all. It would be Myelin. He could not marry the little one. He didn’t love her. His life would be ruined; forever in love with his brother’s wife, hating his own.

  He closed his eyes, then like a dip in the fountain pool after a hard day’s work, the solution showered over him and washed away the burden. He looked over and smiled at his youngest brother. “A word before we leave?”

  Shem nodded, but made no inquiry as to the why.

  Had he expected it?

  Jemri could not hold her tongue any longer. The baby’s sleep sounds had changed from little puffs to soft snores. She shook her twin. “You awake?”

  “What? No. Well, I am now. Why’d you do that?”

  “You know what they’re doing right now, don’t you? Tonight?”

  “Cleaning up? I, for one, am thankful they don’t force us to do all that work as it would have been at home. Go to sleep.”

  “No, that isn’t what I’m talking about.”

  “Sister, we’re baking bread with Grandmother Laurel tomorrow, and you know how early she likes to start.”

  “They’re deciding who we will marry.”

  “What? We’re not old enough to marry! You’ve gone mad. Now really, go to sleep.”

  “No, I’m serious, Varsi. I overhead Noah and Hattimas whispering about it. Right now, our lives are being decided. Without us.”

  “So? Any of the three will be fine with me.”

  “Are you serious? We should have a say! A voice in who we will wed. It’s why so many left, you know, ran off to Nod so that they could have charge of their own lives. Choose for themselves who they would wed. Don’t you want to? I do!”

  Varsi rolled to her side and propped up on her elbow, resting her head on her hand. “Like mother is going to let us be alone with her sons long enough to really know them.” She smiled. “Can you believe they’re so old? I’d never guess it. They look like thirty-year-old warriors, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, it’s true. When Grandfather said they were eighty-five, I expected decrepit, I guess. My goodness, they don’t even have any gray hair yet. Noah only has a bit on his temples. It has to be the way they live. Don’t you love it here? It’s so different, so peaceful and sweet. Everyone genuinely cares for one another.”

  “It is wonderful, especially considering the alternative.” She rolled back over onto her back. “Why don’t you call him ‘father’? And her ‘mother’?”

  Jemri didn’t have a good answer. She just didn’t, could not get the names out. “I’m trying, but each time I start to, it sticks in my throat.”

  “Work on it.”

  “I will ponder it.”

  “So now that you’ve got me good and awake, I assume it does make a difference to you. Which one do you want?”

  “Oh.” She grinned. “You first.”

  “No. You’re the one all concerned. I already said it makes me no difference. Now who is it you want to wed?”

  “Not Ham for sure.”

  “Oh, me neither. We’ll give him to Myelin.”

  Jemri snickered. “Agreed.”

  “So, who is it?”

  She hugged herself. “I like the way Shem looks at me, and I love it that he isn’t a twin.”

  “Oh, no, Japheth being the oldest is wonderful. I don’t care if he’s a twin like us. He’s so kind and sweet.”

  Jemri curled to her side and lay her arm over her sister. “Good, it’s settled then. You can have Japheth, and I’ll marry Shem. Poor little Myelin is stuck with Ham.”

  Her sister giggled. “Somebody had to be.”

  Shem followed his brother into the kitchen. “I don’t know yet.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Who I’m going to choose. Isn’t that why you wanted a word?”

  “No, I want to trade.”

  Shem studied his oldest brother—not even fifteen degrees of the sundial’s difference in age—yet it had made such a difference in his life. He nodded. “I take it you want the first choice, is that it?”

  “Yes, in a nutshell.”

  “What are you offering in trade?” He ran a mental list. Did his brother own anything he wanted?

  “My birthright.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I will give you my birthright in trade for first choice. If Ham knew I wanted Varsi, he’d pick her for sure out of spite. I can’t take a chance. Without her in my life, it wouldn’t be worth living anyway. I couldn’t stand for her to belong to Ham or you.”

  “Have you talked with father about this?”

  “No, not yet. What do you say? You’ve always wanted to be the oldest. The birthright should be next best.”

  That would mean he would be stuck with the baby, but only the Lord knew what kind of woman she’d make. To have the birthright…what a blessing. “If father agrees, yes
, I will trade.”

  Japheth grinned. “Wait right here. I’ll get him.”

  He’d never seen such a transformation in his brother, from anguish to ecstasy in a heartbeat. Though he was almost as excited. A thrill coursed through his veins. To have the birthright. Everything would change.

  Oh, Lord, thank You.

  “What is it you boys have cooked up?”

  Shem let his older brother do all the talking. After a bit of silence, his father faced Japheth. “Your name will forever be listed last in the chronicles.”

  “What does that matter if I don’t have Varsi?”

  “You love her that much?”

  “Yes, Father, I do.”

  “So be it then. From this moment forward, it will be Shem, Ham, and Japheth.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jemri set the tray down then inhaled deeply. She loved the heady smell of fresh bread. Grandmother Laurel was the best baker she’d ever known, too; so many different kinds—plus the sweet cakes.

  She paid close attention to her teacher. If she could be half the cook as Grandfather’s wife, she’d be so blessed. She smiled. So would her husband.

  Her twin burst into the kitchen. “Mother says come quick! The cloud is forming over the mountain.”

  She wasn’t exactly sure what the cloud meant, but it put Grandmother to hurrying out, so Jemri wiped her hands and followed. Everyone else, except the three (Lamech, Noah and Shem—up on God’s Mountain) stood on Grandfather Methuselah’s portico and stared at the boiling mass of white over the summit.

  She leaned in close to her twin. “What’s about to happen?”

  “God’s going to accept their offerings.”

  Jemri gritted her teeth. The offering. That morning, the three men had hefted the sweetest, softest, best-looking yearling lambs over their shoulders and carried them up the mountain.

  She hated the thought of the beautiful sheep dying, but all Sethites made the yearly sin offering. Her father had as did his father. But that still didn’t mean she liked it.

  The cloud swirled, and what truly looked very much like a giant finger reached out from it. A ribbon of fire leapt from the finger to the mountaintop. Her breath caught. Another bolt of fire struck.

  She gasped, then a third strike hit, and she realized she’d witnessed a mighty miracle. She would never forget it. Not if she lived to be nine hundred years old like Methuselah.

  No one could ever tell her that God wasn’t real.

  He had accepted the offering. She’d seen it with her own eyes. Without a word to anyone, basking in His presence, she sank to her knees, then pressed her forehead to the cool stones. “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty.”

  The last bit of disbelief drained out of her heart. He was not just a story. And in this valley that was her new home—Adam’s Valley—she’d experienced the peace of being in the shadow of His Mountain.

  God’s peace.

  How would anyone who had not been there understand the depth and breadth of it? Could she describe it adequately?

  Had her sister realized it?

  After too many heartbeats and prayers of praise to count, she raised her head. The sky, as blue as she’d ever seen it, held no cloud. Gone, and God with it—or was He? The peace remained.

  She stood and turned to the west. The ark loomed over the forest. It was true. The Lord really would bring a flood of waters as He had said.

  The enormity of the Truth overwhelmed her. Of all her clan, the giant only saved her and Varsi. God sent him. The Almighty loved her. And of all the people in the world, He chose her.

  Why would He love her so? She’d done nothing to deserve it. How blessed she was. Yes, indeed, blessed and highly favored, beyond measure.

  She floated through the day, helped Grandmother Laurel prepare the evening meal, another feast, two days in a row. With everything ready, and she and her sisters bathed and dressed in even finer dresses. Where Hattimas kept getting all the clothes proved a mystery. Even the baby wore a new frock.

  Only the men to come down from God’s Mountain, that’s all that was needed.

  What would that be like? To be right there when His fire fell, feel its warmth, see His mighty finger come from the cloud. Except how could anyone do anything but fall on his face?

  “Look! There they are.” Her twin pointed at a big boulder. She wrapped her arms around Jemri. “Tonight, we find out.”

  She leaned back, so she could see her sister’s face, but Varsi didn’t release her grasp. “Find out what?”

  “This night, we are to be betrothed. The brothers drew lots, and Japheth traded with Shem so he could have first pick.”

  “Who told you this?”

  Letting go, Varsi twirled a full circle. “While you were getting dressed, our greatest grandmother, don’t you just love the old dear? While she braided the flowers into my hair. She spoke as though I already knew.”

  “Truly?”

  “Of course, but I think it’s great. Japheth traded his birthright, so he could have first pick and choose me. He went from last to first.”

  “She told you that?” Japheth wanted Varsi? That badly? Surely her sister was wrong. Why would he?

  “No, not exactly, but I can tell. He’s been catching my eye and grinning at me all day. I hoped to talk with him, but Mother always hovers around.”

  “Who’d he trade with?”

  “Shem. I told you already. That’s why he went with father to make the sin offering. Ham picks second.” Varsi shrugged. “I’m sorry, Sissy, but someone has to wed him.”

  Jemri turned away before her twin could see the tears welling in her eyes. It wasn’t fair! What terrible news! And if true, how could she ever spend her life married to Ham?

  Oh, Lord God. Have mercy on my soul. Put it in Ham’s heart to pick Myelin.

  Something must happen. But what? She turned toward His Mountain. The peace welled up again, fresh in her spirit. And words she’d never spoken before filled her heart then came out her mouth. But soft enough so that only the Almighty could hear. “Not my will, Abba, but Yours be done.”

  Perhaps she’d misjudged Noah’s second son. Poor Shem. Stuck with the wild child. Then again, he’d gotten the birthright for his trouble.

  Humbled, yet Shem’s heart overflowed. Being on the mountain, right there when God accepted the sin offering, proved beyond his dreams. But now the reality of his decision awaited him.

  He already knew Japheth wanted Varsi. How could Ham not pick the other twin. Would he regret giving Jemri away for the birthright?

  Surely his mother could do something with Myelin, help her to be more like Jemri.

  But then, perhaps he was judging the child too harshly. She was only six. Could he even remember being that age? Not many clear memories from that year, if any. While he picked at his meal, he searched the markers of his past.

  Other than the various stages of the ark, not many events stood out around those years. Did it really matter? He would honor the trade, and bless the Lord that one day, he’d have a wife who would bear him a son to pass the birthright to.

  Not alone for his own honor, but those of the generations after him, that he agreed to the barter.

  “Boys.” Methuselah stood at the head of the table. “Are you prepared to name your choices?”

  Shem exhaled then stood. He waited for his brothers to go forward then strolled after them. He’d still honor them and as youngest, go last as he had for as long as he remembered. He’d already received his prize.

  “Yes, Grandfather.”

  “Tell us your choice.”

  “When Father gives his blessing.” The love in Japheth’s eyes looking at the twin must be obvious to everyone at the table. Shem understood why his elder brother had done what he had. Such a love definitely had merit. “Varsi will be my wife.”

  The first chosen smiled at her betrothed then at her sister.

  “Ham.”

  “Yes. I know who I want. I pick Myelin.”
>
  His brother’s words stunned Shem. As though he’d been hit with a wayward timber right in the temple. Had he said Myelin? Not Jemri! He had! He’d called the baby’s name. The Lord had given him the birthright and the wife he wanted, too.

  “May the Lord bless your union.” He turned his gaze to Shem. “And you, son?”

  “Yes, Grandfather.” He smiled. “I thank the Almighty that it is Jemri who is left, Father Methuselah. I am blessed to win my first choice.” His betrothed beamed. I’ve wanted her all along, since the first time my eyes beheld her face.”

  “May the Lord bless your union, and bless the fruit of her womb.”

  Jemri’s heart thumped so loud, surely her husband-to-be could hear it. She wanted to jump up and run to him, embrace him and be embraced and never let go.

  Oh, Lord, thank You! Thank You. You are full of goodness, mercy, and grace. Thank You.

  Then to make the evening complete, Mother Hattimas allowed her and her sisters to sit next to the soon-to-be grooms.

  It tickled her how uncomfortable her Shem was at first, but as the night deepened, he seemed to relax—at least a bit. Right before the oil lamps neared empty and no one seemed to be watching, she leaned in close.

  Instead of kissing his cheek like she’d been thinking about all evening and earlier in her dreams, she whispered in his ear. “How long before we can be married? I’ll be thirteen in the spring.”

  “Mother was sixty before Grandfather blessed my parents’ marriage.”

  What? How could that be? She bit her tongue to keep from screaming. Finding her voice, she spoke under her breath a second time. “In my old home, I’d be near death by then! Must we wait so long? I don’t want to.”

  He shrugged. “You’ve heard the story of Cain and Abel?”

  “Who hasn’t?”

  “Exactly. Without father’s blessing, we’ll not have the Lord’s, and neither of us want that. We will wait upon Him and the blessing of Noah, but I promise I will work hard every opportunity to finish our rooms in the ark.”