“Do not fight!” he told them, “Do not go to war. God wants us to be peaceful,” he chided. When he turned away, the boys picked up their wooden toy swords once more and ran after him, shaking their weapons at his back and laughing.
Gareth continues to walk to the valley and watch Noah whenever my father can spare him.
Almost every night when I visit with him, he tells me stories about Noah.
“You should see how many animals they have out there now!” he tells me.
“It takes all day to feed those beasts. And the hay, the grain, and the sacks of fodder they have hauled from our stores!” Gareth goes on and on about Noah, his voice filled with awe.
“They’re feeding so many, and not just goats and cattle! I think I saw a couple of wildebeest basking in the shade of the ship, and camels, and horses.
I saw parrots, and doves, and owls, and some pretty pigeons and finches, in cages on their carts when Ham and his older brother came by to purchase all the rest of our seeds. They have enough to fill all the fields in the valley with wheat and grains—enough to feed their own village!
Later as I was getting ready for bed I heard my name. “Naomi, Naomi,” I heard Gareth calling to me from outside my window. He came rushing into my room, breathless and exuberant. He came from the village with a skin of wine and he couldn’t stop talking about old Noah, even when I unwound my scarf and dropped it to the ground, so that I was wearing nothing but my tunic!
After we drank some of the wine, I followed Gareth back to the storeroom. I was feeling romantic and wanted to cuddle, but he was too full of talk about the ark, and all that’s happening with Noah and his clan. “I’m beginning to feel like you are in love with Noah!” I teased him, but it’s no use. Gareth was obsessed.
The next day, Gareth talks me into going with him, again, to spy on Noah.
It looks as though they are almost finished building their huge ship, and they have opened up the side.
When its huge door hit the ground, there was a great noise, and I was surprised the animals didn’t run away.
“They’re going in!” I could not believe my eyes! “Look, the animals are going into the ark!” I say, grabbing Gareth’s arm. It was amazing. A boat in the middle of the hot desert!
The wild beasts should run away but, instead, they move toward the ship. They climb the ramp and enter into the darkness.
“They are far more orderly than the people at the coliseum!” Gareth laughs; what he says is true. The animals are not pushing each other; they are not fighting. They wait their turn. A ram and an ewe stand quietly next to a huge male lion and his sleek lioness.
“He’s going to eat it!” I cry out, alarmed, when the huge lion bows its head to sniff at the little sheep. But he simply shakes his mighty head and stands at the bottom of the ramp, looking up into the dark belly of the ship.
The ark is so large it blots out the sun.
“If Noah thinks any of us are going to set foot on that thing, he really is crazy.” I whisper to Gareth. I am overcome with awe at the sight of the big ark.
“I think every one of them is out of their minds—a few loaves short of a banquet, I would say.” Gareth nods his head, and wraps his arms around my waist. The sight before us is so strange, almost like a dream.
The Rain
The sky has gone dark and it is actually beginning to rain quite hard.
“Let’s go home and get into some dry clothing,” Gareth says.
It is very unusual for us to get this kind of rain at this time of year. By the time we got back through the gates of the town, we are ducking down together under my shawl and running.
If the rain lets up tomorrow, we’re going back over there to watch more of Noah’s show.
The next day, around mid-day, it looks like nighttime because of the clouds. I can’t believe how dark it is. The rain is starting to get on my nerves. It hasn’t let up now for about twelve hours, just a steady downpour. And water is bubbling up from under the ground, too.
Whenever it rains, my mother smiles and says, “Oh, think of the flowers that will come!”
She loves flowers.
And it’s true, whenever it rains in the desert, all of the plants come alive with the moisture and bloom when the sun comes out.
The thought of the flowers is some consolation. As soon as the sun comes out again, there will be fields of flowers. I’ll take Nadena to pick flowers for our mother. We will gather a huge bouquet for her table.
It is harvest time, and Gareth and I were going to go to the market today. I wanted to find some colored linen for a new shawl, and some colored beads to adorn my headscarf for the festivals.
It never rains at harvest time. The crops will all be ruined.
“Ugh! My perfume will wash off in this weather! And I’ll be covered in mud by the time we get halfway there.” I complain.
“Let’s not go to the fair today,” Gareth says, “I doubt if there will be anything on display in this rain.”
“We might as well go out to the field and see what’s going on with Noah’s family.”
Five Days Later
Nadena is standing, mournfully, in the doorway of our house.
“When will the flowers come, Nemi?” she asks, plaintively.
The water streams past the front of the house, like a mighty river. It has been raining steadily for days and days. Daylight is only slightly brighter than the absolute darkness that is our sodden night now. I have begun to lose track of time.
Leave it to the people of this region to turn a tempest into a carnival. Even though the harvest festivities are canceled because of the incessant rain, there is talk of a celebration.
The word in father’s shop is that everyone in the village is going to go down to the ark.
I heard they’ve hung oiled cloths in a grove of trees, and some of the more industrious villagers are selling spiced meat, bread, and roasted corn.
Noah seems to be the only show in town today.
Gareth and I decide to take a new skin of wine and sit up on the hillside, if we can find a spot. I hear it’s a regular gallery out there, with the villagers looking for a high spot and a little entertainment, too.
The crowds have spread cloths in the trees and bushes for makeshift shelters, and have brought picnics of bread and cheese.
There’s more wine flowing than at our festivals.
Gareth and I find a spot under an arch made by some thorn bushes.
I spread some oiled cloths on the branches and we watch through the drizzle as the little kids chase after each other all over the hillside, slipping and sliding in the mud. They are laughing and screaming, having a wonderful time. At least they are until one of the little ones falls into a pond by the boat, where all the animals were milling about a few days ago.
The little boy pops up like a cork, yelling for his mother, and he’s covered with manure and smells awful.
“Aw, poor little fellow,” Gareth laughs, watching the screaming little boy being fished out of the smelly puddle. Even his father won’t hold him, but ties him to a tree until he is washed off by the rain.
I swear that pond wasn’t even there a couple of days ago!
I kiss Gareth on his cheek, “You are going to make a wonderful father!” I tell him, and he blushes.
Noah hasn’t addressed the crowd at all. In fact, since it started raining, he and his whole family have been avoiding the rest of us like the plague. They’ve gone aboard that horrid boat with all those animals.
Imagine, shut inside something like that with only a few small windows at the top, with all those beasts!
“By the gods, there are more!” Gareth shouts above the sound of the thunder and rain as two crocodiles and a couple hippos start up the still open ramp to the ark.
I jump up when I feel something crawling across my foot, and look down to see a deadly viper gliding past.
“Aiii!” I scream out, and Garet
h grabs me and pulls me away from the snake, covering my mouth with his hand. Neither of us dare to speak, barely breathing, as it slithers on past, followed by a smaller snake, and heads for the boat.
“How do those animals know to come here?” Gareth whispers, and I feel myself shaking.
The sound of the rain on that great hollow boat sounds like drums.
The mud and rain, and the sound of that drumming, have driven some of the younger women in the village to dance around like fools. They look like wild beasts, with the rain streaming down their bodies. “Look how shameless they are!” I say to Gareth, and then slap him as he continues to ogle the nearly naked girls.
“Come on, let’s go home,” Gareth announces, leering at me, and we gather up the cloths from the brambles and head back toward the gates of the city.
As we approach the city, we are forced to jump over great cracks in the roads where the water runs deep. It is hard to walk, and treacherous, sloshing through the rising water.
The steady downpour is beginning to undermine our house, and a great moat has formed around it. At first, I don’t think I can get across, but Gareth holds my hand and steadies me as I wade through the muddy water. I feel it pulling at me, trying to carry me away.
The biting insects are terrible, now. They follow us in huge swarms, and there is no way to keep them out of the houses even though the windows are covered with heavy cloth.
“We’ll have to bring more soil to pack around the house when the rains stop,” my father says. I can tell he is miserable and he moves stiffly, as though his joints ache in the dampness.
He and my mother huddle miserably together on their bed. The water has invaded the house, and splashes against my knees as I walk from room to room. There are lines of clothes hanging from the beams that my mother is trying to dry, but there is too much moisture in the air.
Ten Days after the Rain Began
“I hope we get to see the sun, soon,” my mother says, woefully.
It is too dark in the night to see anything, and the lanterns won’t stay lit due to leaks that have sprung in our roof.
I barely sleep, tossing and turning in my bed.
In the morning, even before I open my eyes, I can hear the heavy rain beating on the roof. The water has risen so that I am lying in a pool. No wonder I can’t sleep.
I roll out of bed and stand up. The water is nearly to my waist. I can barely breathe because of the little insects swarming around my face.
Nadena woke before me and has been out of the house, looking for a dry shelter. Nobody is fussing at her anymore to stay out of the rain. There’s no place that’s dry.
Mother and father’s taller bed is not yet wet, and they are sitting, their arms around each other. “Your mother is sick, Naomi,” my father says, mournfully.
She is coughing and it is plain that she can hardly catch her breath.
After a while, Nadena comes splashing into the house.
“I found a cave, halfway up the hill, where we can be dry!” she announces, breathlessly.
“Come on, let’s go, before somebody else finds out about it!”
“Gareth!” When we go outside our house, we have to wade through chest high water. I carry Nadena until we get to a shallower place. “I need to find Gareth!”
Nadena whispers in my ear, and tells me where to find the cave.
“Just past the grove of willows, you will see some big rocks to the east,” she tells me, “There are many brambles there covering the entrance. I’ll look out for you, so that we can let you in.”
Nadena and my parents leave then, hoping nobody would notice the two old ones dragging themselves up the side of the hill and follow. My mother’s cough can be heard as she struggles through the water. My father and Nadena are carrying some supplies from our pantry, but almost everything is moldy and can’t be eaten.
“Let’s go back to the house and see if there is any dry bread, and a fowl or piglet left in the yard to be caught.” Gareth says when I find him.
He has been hauling mud, trying to shore up the sides of the storeroom to keep my father’s goods dry. I grab a couple of jars of honey and sack of chickpeas and another one of olives. “We’ll try to start a fire inside the cave and get dried off.” Gareth says, tucking some dry tinder into his belt.
I am proud of Gareth. He is a good man. When I grab his waist to try and give him a kiss, he pulls away impatiently. “We must go now!” he says, and I follow him.
The way back to our house is already treacherous. I can’t see Nadena and our parents’ progress because of the walls of the city, and I pray to Nammu, the mother of the earth and sky, and to An, God of the heavens, to keep them safe.
I haven’t had any dry clothes for three days now and the clothes I’m wearing are all smelly and mildewed. Gross. I add to my prayers the hope that I’ll be able to dry my clothes in the cave, too.
Nothing in our house is anything but slime and mold. There are half a dozen skins hanging from the rafters full of wine, and a barrel full of drinking water. There is a little goat cheese in a jug, so I grab that to carry with us. Gareth has draped the straps of the wineskins around his neck.
“We will need some water to drink” I say, and then giggle at the irony. There is nothing but water, but it is full of mud and dead creatures and camel dung.
When I take the cover off the water barrel, I find it has been infested with leeches! I gag with horror at the sight of those things wiggling in the murky water.
“Ha! You’ve found our supper!” Gareth laughs grimly.
I feel like throwing up.
Of course, now we’re trying to walk through deep water, and when we start up the hill, we find the people of the village are all on their way up, too.
Everyone is heading for higher ground.
Even though we are now above the rushing water, the wet ground is slippery and many of the rocks slide when we step on them.
“Oh, gods be damned!” I hear Gareth mutter, and turn to see that he has fallen and the skins he is carrying have burst open. The crimson wine runs in rivulets down the side of the hill, reminding me of billowing silk.
“I hope we can keep everyone out of ‘our’ cave long enough to get dry,” I whisper to Gareth, as he grimly trudges next to me. “Look out!” Gareth shouts suddenly, but it is too late. The rock I am standing on gives way, and I am only able to save myself from falling into the rushing water by letting go of the precious pot of cheese and the sacks I am carrying. It is so dark, we can barely see except for when lightning flashes.
“Nemi!” I hear my sister’s urgent voice, and see her small, frightened face peering through some thorn bushes. Most of the other townspeople have gone around another way that is not so steep, so we are able to make it into the little cave unseen.
A Little Shelter
The fine dirt inside the cave is blessedly dry, and everyone removes their outer garments, which we drape around the rocks. I hope they will dry, but it is very cold.
I would like to sleep but the thunder is so loud we can’t hear each other talk, so we watch as lightning strikes at the tops of the hills, providing brief flashes of light.
There is no fuel to burn. Everything is too soaked. The tinder Gareth stowed in his belt is soaking wet and useless.
The stench of mildew and mold is heavy in our nostrils, and my lungs feel as though they are on fire. My breathing is audible in the lulls between the thunderclaps. My mother huddles, shivering, propped between two rocks. She is coughing painfully, and I can hear her teeth chattering.
It is hard to breathe because the air itself is full of water.
A deeper shadow has fallen across the side of the mountain on which we are sheltering. I pull aside the brambles, and gasp in amazement when I realize what it is. “Look!” I call to the others, and point at the sight. The ark has risen with the water, and now bobs up and down. It sits high in the water. We hear nothing from it, but the creaking
of the wood timbers and the sound of the branches and rocks on the hillside scraping against its hull.
The water has begun to pool onto the floor of our cave, and we talk about moving further up the hillside. As we emerge, we see that our city is gone, submerged by the expanse of water.
The Water Rises
Nadena is crying for her pet cats. I am sure that they are dead. Many animals float by, dead and dying.
Carcasses of dead people float by, too. I hope Nadena has not seen them. She is scared enough.
Gareth is trying to lash together a raft for us from the sodden branches of trees on the mountainside, but he has no ropes and the bramble vines are stiff and hard to work with. He is covered with scratches and cuts, but he doggedly keeps trying to make a raft. He has removed his shawl and is using strips from that to bind branches together. I silently hand him my shawl, too, glad to be rid of it.
Nobody is making fun of Noah anymore, I’ve noticed.
Nobody is calling him a fool. I guess he and his family are dry and safe, with plenty of fowl and piglets to eat, and Japheth’s baby will probably be born by now.
All that dry hay and all that bread and honey they put away. My mouth waters, thinking about it. My mouth feels parched. Even with all the water around us. There is no water to drink.
The backs of my arms are covered with sores, and my mother reaches out to remove a leech from my neck when I go to see how she is doing.
There are no longer any high rocks where we can sit to be out of the rising water, but there are higher ridges across the valley and we talk half-heartedly about trying to get over there.
In the Beginning (Anthology) Page 13