Ark

by K. B. Kofoed

  Jim hated to lie, but it would have been worse if he’d complained about John’s lifestyle.

  “I was concerned about one thing, Jim,” said John. “You said there was a discrepancy in your drawings? Something you had to check against the model in the rec room. We didn’t see you after that.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Jim, remembering his excuse for leaving the fun and frolic in the jacuzzi. “I was concerned about a detail. That’s all.”

  “What detail?” asked Wilcox.

  “I’ve never been sure about the location of the poles on the ark.”

  “The poles? What’s the problem?”

  Jim had always been good at thinking on his feet. “In my drawing I show them at the base of the ark,” he said, “near the ground. All the drawings I’ve seen of the ark show the poles being attached at the top of the box, not the bottom. I’ve thought it over and I think they are right.”

  John Wilcox considered Jim’s words.

  “I can see why you’re concerned, Jim,” said John, “but does it really matter where the poles are attached?”

  “It might,” said Jim. “I just want the thing to be right. Especially if we’re going to build it.”

  “I can understand your concern as an artist,” said John, “but it seems to me you’re too worried about the aesthetics. The main thing is the fact that it’s a resonator. As Gene explained it to me, it is the box and the cherubim that are important.”

  “It might make a difference where the poles attach,” argued Jim. “I really wish I had an independent consultant who could go through the same process as I did and make the drawings.”

  “Well, as I understand it there have been a lot of them,” said John. "Hell, Jim, every time somebody does a picture of it they have to read the description. Right?”

  “Most of them have been in or working directly with the church,” said Jim, “but I guess you’re right.”

  “Well, don’t worry about it.”

  “Have you ever considered bringing a rabbi or a priest on to the project?” asked Jim. “It might help give the thing credibility. Don’t you think?”

  John was quiet for a moment. “Is that what you are worried about?”

  “It might help us validate some of the design,” replied Jim.

  Jim amazed himself. He’d just reached into a hip pocket and pulled out a problem with his drawings. It amazed him that he was able to make up an excuse for having avoided an orgy in the jacuzzi. Now he’d convinced himself that there was a problem. Like John said, it was a small thing but it might be important. It may have started as a made-up excuse, but the more Jim thought about it the more valid his concerns seemed. It was true that he’d never been clear about where the Bible said the poles were located on the ark, and considering that the poles were affixed permanently to the ark, it did amount to more than a minor detail.

  John wasn’t convinced. “Gene told me you saw the computer simulation. So you saw it working yourself. How much more validation do you need?”

  “It’s just MY interpretation of the text that you’re relying upon,” said Jim. “I keep telling everybody that I’m no biblical expert, and I’d like to have one on board before we –”

  “Hold on, Jim,” said John. “Gene has been studying your drawings a long time. He’s checked them against the text and he says you got it right. This is no time to start having second thoughts.”

  “Oh?” said Jim. “When is a good time?”

  “Well,” said John, “a good time would have been BEFORE we copyrighted the drawings and BEFORE we arranged to get the gold.”

  Jim wondered if he’d heard John right. “You’re getting the gold?” he asked. “Now?”

  “Yeah, a few days ago. I told you my Dad has connections,” said John. “We’re rolling.”

  “You don’t think we need somebody from the church in on this?” asked Jim. More than ever he was feeling out of the loop and sure that things were moving in the wrong direction.

  “What for, Jim?” asked John. “What useful purpose could it serve?”

  Before Jim could reply, John continued. “Look, Jim. Gene brought up that question long ago. He said the he’d talked to a rabbi friend who was willing to come aboard. I told him then what I’m telling you now. We don’t want the church in on this. It has nothing to do with them. This is purely scientific research. If they get involved, then before long we’ll be up to our ears in controversy and unwelcome advice.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say it has nothing to do with them.”

  “Tell you what, Jim,” said Wilcox. “You go ahead and revise your drawings or whatever, but I want the plans finalized by the first week in June.”

  All Jim had to change was one drawing, but something else occurred to him. “Not to act like I’m trying to stall the project or anything but if I change the drawings, shouldn’t we rerun the simulation with the new configuration?”

  “Jim, my other phone is ringing,” said John. “Gotta go. Do what you gotta do.”

  After he put down the phone Jim stared at it for a minute thinking over the conversation. He shook his head and muttered, “They’re getting the gold?”

  Over lunch at Pat’s Steaks in South Philly, Jim told Lou about the weekend. Lou assailed Jim for having turned down Suzie and Arlene’s invitation. “If you’d screw around a bit more, Oh Moral One, I think you’d be a more pleasant sonofabitch to hang around with.”

  Jim didn’t disagree. “Maybe,” he said, “but if I did Kas would know it.”

  “That’s just because you’re so fucking honest.”

  Jim took a big bite of his cheese steak. Tomato sauce ran down his wrist like a trickle of blood staining his shirt sleeve. “Shit!” He grabbed a handful of paper napkins from the dispenser on the counter. “Brand new shirt,” he hissed.

  One of the Pat’s employees saw his accident and immediately slid open the screened window, shoving a paper cup of water toward Jim. “Soak the sleeve in water or it’ll stain.”

  Jim was still blotting his sleeve when they got back in Lou’s car. Lou looked at Jim’s sleeve. “Messy sons’o’bitches, those steaks,” he said. “Your sleeve looks okay, though. Nice of Margie to give you the water.”

  Lou knew all the waitresses at the places they went for lunch. He flirted with them openly and never seemed to get in trouble even when their husbands were on hand. He was always teasing people and they rarely took what he said seriously, but Jim knew that if he tried it he’d be shot dead for sure.

  Jim could still feel the soft yet insistent stroking of Suzie’s thumb on the back of his hand. He could see her sharp nipples, her long wet hair and those sparkling blue eyes, so full of desire and promise.

  “If ever I did fool around,” Jim remarked as they entered the studio, “it would have been with her. God, she was fine.”

  Lou shook his head and smiled. “It’s history now, pal,” he said. “You may as well just go beat your meat.”

  Jim nodded and returned to his desk. He was going to tell Lou about the voice, but he didn’t know how to describe it. Soon the phone started ringing and work began to pile up.

  #

  Nearly a week passed without contact from Gene or John. He’d made the modifications to his drawing on his computer and sent proofs to John, but had gotten no response.

  Dan Slater called one evening to announce that he’d won the job he’d interviewed for and would be moving to town in a week. He wanted Jim to help him look for apartments. Jim agreed wholeheartedly, glad to help a friend and to get his mind off the ark project. Dan found a number of likely candidates in center city but all of them had something he didn’t like.

  Then Dan hit on the idea of renting a bedroom at Jim’s for a month or two, and over dinner that night Kas agreed.

  Dan, Jim, Kas and Stephanie ate at the circular table on their back patio. The evening was warm and the sky above them was a deep blue. Woolsey had chosen a spot next to Dan, hoping that a scrap of meat might accidentally
fall. His long wet tongue hung from his mouth as he directed his steady panting at Dan. He knew there was no hope of a handout from his family because Kas believed that Woolsey should be discouraged from begging at the table. Perhaps Woolsey figured that Dan was ignorant of the rule. Twice Kas shooed him away but each time he slowly crept back. Stephie watched the whole thing in quiet amusement.

  Jim enjoyed having Dan around. After a few days his mood became visibly brighter. Dan had always had that effect on Jim, ever since they were roommates in art school.

  Now Jim looked forward to getting home. Even his relationship with Kas and Stephanie improved.

  One night over dinner, Kas said she noticed the difference. “If you’ve brought this change on Jim, Dan,” she said, “I’m eternally grateful. I thought we were going to lose you for a while there, Jim.”

  Jim had guessed as much, but he couldn’t comment. He may have given her cause for worry but for the moment it seemed to be behind him. Still, in the back of his mind he was watching the calendar with an eye on June 1. He expected John or Gene to call at any moment, asking him to come up to Mt. Kisco for a meeting, but while he waited to see if he was really still part of the team he enjoyed the fact that he had both Dan and Lou to keep the anxiety at bay.

  One evening he and Dan went through the Bible to find every reference to the ark. Jim had already done so but it was interesting to see Dan, with his technical background, assessing the text. One thing he noticed immediately was that Jim had been mistaken about position of the poles that were affixed to the ark.

  “Interesting that the poles are supposed to stay in the ark,” he said.

  “What does that mean?” asked Jim. “Is there some electrical or microwave significance there?”

  Dan shook his head and knitted his brow as he stared at Jim’s newest drawing of the ark. “No, no, no,” he said. “Nothing like that. I was just thinking that if you and I were to, say, make up the story, we would have probably had them remove the poles. Do you agree?”

  “I never thought about it,” said Jim.

  “Really?” said Dan. “I thought you left the poles in just because it was part of the instructions.”

  “No,” said Jim. “The poles stayed in.”

  Dan pondered the drawing. “You know,” he finally said, “there’s a lot of gold in the top of the ark. Moving the poles to the top means even more gold on top.”

  “You’re thinking about how it might hold an electrical charge,” Jim guessed.

  “There’s a lot of gold surface to a pole,” said Dan. “I’d considered how much of a charge the ark could carry. With the poles below, so near the ground, it didn’t seem likely. Moving ’em to the top changes things quite a bit, I think.”

  “Interesting,” said Jim. “I was thinking only of what the Bible describes and the fact that if the poles were near the base it would be top heavy when it was carried.”

  “That’s another good reason to have them at the top,” said Dan. “You’re right, though. Even with flat gold cherubim versus sculptural ones, the ark is top heavy.”

  “I donno. ” Jim said after thinking for a moment. “My drawings show them at the bottom. Work is underway. Best to leave things as they are.”

  Jim was relieved to have someone else go through the text and, for the most part, come to the same conclusions. He became so enthusiastic that he decided not to wait for Gene or John to call. He dialed Gene’s number.

  Gene’s answering machine greeted him. Jim generally never left automated messages unless he absolutely had to. Too often he had to call back anyway. Still he felt enough urgency to leave a brief message. “Gene. Jim here. Call me. It’s about the ark.”

  An hour later, just as Jim and Dan decided to call it a night, Gene returned Jim’s call.

  Jim explained about the location of the ark’s poles and suggested that the simulations might be rerun using a different configuration.

  “Are you crazy?” Gene shouted. “Do you realize how long it would take to reconfigure?”

  “Well ...,” said Jim.

  Gene interrupted, “it took several days to wireframe the whole thing from your specs. Now you want me to do it all over?”

  “Can’t we just move the poles up?” asked Jim, surprised at Gene’s outburst.

  Gene sighed deeply. “No, Jim,” he said. “It’s not that easy.”

  “Well, this isn’t just my idea,” said Jim. “I’ve gone over it with Dan and we agreed that I might have misplaced the poles in my original sketches.”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “I don’t know,” said Jim. “No one does. That’s the problem.”

  Jim explained that Dan had felt that the new location of the poles might increase the ark’s capacity to hold a charge.

  “Okay, Jim,” he said, “when we have the thing built we’ll tell them to put the poles on top or anywhere you want them.”

  Jim decided he shouldn’t push it. Besides, he’d already FedEx’ed the new drawings to John. “Sorry to upset the apple cart, Gene. By the way, I was surprised to hear that John ordered the gold already,” said Jim, fishing for details.

  “We just started the wheels turning,” said Gene. “Really, it’s his Dad, the General, who is doing the deal.”

  “Well, that leads me to my second concern. I still feel like I’m out of the loop,” said Jim. “Seems like every time I talk to either one of you there have been new developments.”

  “So?” said Gene. “What’s wrong with that? We’re the ones who’re building the thing.”

  “I thought it was supposed to include me,” said Jim.

  “Will you stop with that, Jim?” said Gene. “We keep telling you. You ARE part of the project. You did the drawings, for Chrissake!”

  “Okay,” said Jim. “I know that, but I find out everything after the fact.”

  “What?” replied Gene. “We should inform you of everything we do?”

  “Why not?” said Jim. “What harm would it do?”

  “Jim, we’re not trying to go behind your back, but I doubt if John is of a mind to make informing you of everything a top priority.”

  “I understand that, but I keep getting the feeling that my part of this is over and you’re going to move on without me.”

  “I don’t think that’ll happen. But what if it does? Is that a crime?”

  Though his voice didn’t show it, Jim was getting angry. Gene wasn’t sounding like an old friend any more. “Please understand, Gene,” he said. “I‘ve been with this for twenty years and the whole ark question has gotten under my skin. It’s not a question of wanting to know any more. I HAVE to know. Please don’t cut me out.”

  “I understand how you feel, Jim,” he said. “I’ll keep it in mind. That’s all I can do. You know I can’t really ride herd on John or his dad. They’re in control of this whole thing now.”

  “See?” said Jim. “That’s what I mean. Why does it have to be that way? Why not all four of us as partners?”

  “It’s really a question of financial responsibility, isn’t it?” said Gene. “The buck has to stop somewhere. With twenty million dollars in precious metals at stake I’d think you’d be glad to field the responsibility.”

  “Well,” said Jim, “putting it that way, I guess ...”

  Gene’s phone beeped a call-waiting signal. “I gotta go, Jim. Stay in touch.”

  Jim looked at Dan, who had been sitting across from him listening to the conversation. “I guess you heard most of that.”

  “’Fraid so,” said Dan. “Did they cut you out?”

  Jim shrugged . “It’s the money,” he said, “the gold. Someone, one person, has to be responsible.”

  “That’s right,” said Dan. “The bottom line. Get’s you every time, don’t it?”

  Jim smiled and looked at Dan appreciatively. “I’m really glad you’re here right now, Dan.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way, bro.”

  #

  Dan and Ji
m had really talked it through that night, and they came to the conclusion that Jim should spend some time continuing the journal that he’d tried to write. Dan loved a good mystery. Technical or paranormal, it didn’t matter. He’d managed to balance a scientific career with an outrageous imagination. No concept was too alien or weird for Dan to tackle. It was only Dan who heard the full story of the ‘voice’, and it was only Dan who could advise Jim how he might deal with it.

  “You gotta write it down,” Dan had said. “Getting it on paper will help get it outa your head.”

  “That’s a lot of work if it turns out the opposite,” said Jim. “What if it makes me crazier?”

  Dan laughed. “You’re obsessing on the subject anyway. I think it can only help. Besides you and I both know that a bit of creativity is good for the soul. Every artist knows that.”

  The next day at work, Jim felt much better. He thought over his conversation with Dan and realized that Dan was still a soulmate, even after all these years. His counsel was of tremendous help at a time when Jim felt madness knocking at his door.

  Dan’s suggestion to write a journal was what Jim needed to hear. Now he had a way to vent that wouldn’t alienate his family or his friends, although it meant giving up some free time, but that wasn’t the only good advice he’d gotten from Dan. After hearing the whole story, Dan pointed to two major flaws in Jim’s thinking. The first was that Jim believed that things would go the way he expected or wanted them to. The other was thinking that things wouldn’t change once money came into the picture.

  “You’ve turned this over to Gene and John,” Dan had said. “That means it’s out of your hands. If you keep growling at them about how you feel then you’re sure to alienate both of them. Eventually they’ll cut you out of the picture altogether.”

  At lunch time, Jim called Dan to thank him for his advice. “Strange that you’re thanking me,” said Dan, “I’m the guy who’s freeloadin’ at your house.”

  So it was that Dan and Jim became close friends again after almost twenty-five years. Jim realized that if it wasn’t for Dan Slater there would be no ark project, yet Dan never tried to horn in on it. Clearly Dan found no reason to obsess about it. As he listened to Jim’s excited revelations about the ark, he seemed almost nonchalant.