by Caryl McAdoo
“No, the water’s fury and strength surprised me the most.”
“I know. Why I thought it would be gentle is a mystery, but I’ve ridden in a boat before on the lake near my home with my father and uncles. Skimming over the shimmering surface…not frightening at all. I quite enjoyed it.”
He climbed into bed and held the covers open for her. She slipped in and snuggled next to her husband, pressing in tight. “I’m most shocked by the number and diversity of the animals. How they all journeyed to Adam’s Valley and filed onto the ark. Did you see? Each knew exactly where its place was.”
She kissed him. “I think we should celebrate our first night in the ark.”
He grinned then blew out the oil lamp.
Weary and sated, Jemri laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. In no time, his breathing leveled out, and he made his sounds of slumber she’d come to know. How did he do it? Though not as fast as her husband, sleep found her, too, and all those thoughts of what needed doing the next day faded away into sweet dreams.
She sat up in the darkness. Her heart raced. What was that noise? Where was she?
A hand touched her back. “Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
The sound of her husband’s voice brought understanding and comfort.
“Has the cock crowed?”
“No, what woke you?”
“I…I…it was so real. I couldn’t stand it anymore. When I opened my eyes, I couldn’t figure out where I was or what made that horrible noise.” She turned to him and lay back down. “But then you touched me, and spoke, and I knew I was safe. Finally realized where we were.”
“So a dream, then? A bad one? Tell me what you could no longer stand.”
“Somehow, it seemed more real than a dream. Like I was there.” She exhaled, her pulse still raced, but no longer pounded like before.
He rolled out of bed, fiddled with the flint until a spark caught the kindling, then lit the oil lamp. “Come on. We’ll make tea, and you can tell me of your night vision.”
Jemri joined him. “You think that’s what it was?”
“Sounds like it, but….” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Who knows other than God?”
“So true.”
While he lit more lamps, she built a small fire in the stove of her own smaller kitchen and put on a pot of water. Bless God, he’d brought it to surprise her. She loved having Grandmother Laurel’s own cookstove and was thankful it belonged to her now. She still missed the old dear, but nothing like Grandfather Lamech.
Shem slipped into his seat at the little table. “So tell me your dream.”
“You remember the giant who saved Varsi and me?”
He grinned. “I’ve heard you talk of him, but I never knew the man you call Friend.”
She pursed her lips, but refrained from getting physical. No telling where that would lead, and she, for one, needed all the energy she could muster to face the new morn. Would she know when it began? With no windows, would anyone? Praise God Noah put so many lamps on the hall walls, or she’d be working in the dark even if the day did dawn.
“Anyway, I dreamed of that day again like I have so many times, but when we met up with Grandfather Lamech, instead of getting in the wagon as I really did that morning, I went with Friend.” She faced him and held his eyes. “He isn’t a man though.”
“No? Then what?”
“An Angel. Of the host.”
“The host you say? What is that?”
“I’m unsure. It’s what he said. On his back, he’s got big wings like a bird. And I flew with him. There’s an army of the winged men. At first in my dream, we ran through the forest going really fast, so swiftly that it blurred my vision. Maybe a furlong or two, then he looked back and we stopped.”
The steam’s whistle brought her out of her remembrance. She hurried over and scooted the pot to the side, dropped in the dried tea leaves, then sat back down.
“Anyway, he threw off his coat, folded it into a hand-sized bundle, then stuffed it into a hip pocket; except the tunic he wore…it wasn’t of fabric…not as we know. I know it sounds strange, but it was more like…made out of light. I don’t know exactly, but it’s shimmery, like a dull shine. But then he unfolded his giant wings, grabbed my hand, and we flew.”
Shem jumped up. “In the air? Wow, what was it like? Go on, I’ll pour us a cup.”
“Wait on mine. I like it to steep longer.”
“Do we have any cream?”
“No, Mother might.”
He filled his cup and sat back down. “Go on. What happened then?”
“He sang three sharp notes, and a little blue circle in the sky opened before us. It went to sparking as it expanded, and we flew right through it. That’s when I saw all the rest. As though there were more winged men than grapes on the summer vine, he explained what I witnessed was called a legion.”
“I would love to behold a legion of angels of the host. But why…?”
She reached over and covered his hand with hers. “Only God knows. Then he told me that they war with each other.”
“They fight?”
“With songs. Their weapons are new songs.”
“Did you hear them sing?”
“Oh, Shem, it was awesome at first when Centurion’s –”
“Is that the giant’s name?”
“No, he told me it’s what he is. Of yet, he has no name. Hasn’t allowed himself to be named.”
“That’s odd.” He pondered, looking off toward the stove. “Jemri, this has to be a vision. There’s no way you could make all this up. Winged men who fight with songs. What exactly is a centurion? Do you know?”
“He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. But when Centurion’s angels sang…it was so beautiful. Then the others came, evil ones who also fly. Their song had a…” She stood and hugged herself. “In a way, they sort of sounded good on the surface. Some of the songs. But the beat, their rhythm…it hurt my heart, made me want to plug my ears.”
“So how do they fight each other by just singing?”
“I don’t know. The whole legion soared in huge slow circles. The enemy, too, but in the opposite direction. Then when two or three of one side would fly out to the middle with their new song, the others would match them in the center of those flying rings, and the battle was on. Soon, feathers fell, only a few at first, then more and more, so many it looked like autumn leaves dancing on the wind, dropping, falling, and the angels losing the most withdrew.”
“That sounds so interesting. And beautiful. Sounds like a prophetic vision, not merely a dream. But what frightened you?”
She closed her eyes. The image still clear in her mind’s eye, just as horrible as before. “I looked down. It…what I saw….” She gulped and went to pour herself a cup of tea. When she turned back, her eyes filled. “I couldn’t stand it. Praise God, I woke.”
Chapter Two
Jemri wanted to believe the night vision to be a bad dream and nothing more, but Shem said…how could it not be true? She looked across the table. The love in her husband’s eyes warmed her heart and gave her strength to continue the telling. “The people…they were climbing over each other as the water rose, fighting to get to higher ground.”
“Who? What men did you see?”
She wiped her cheeks. “The sons of Cain. Had to be. But not only men, Husband. Women and children, too. I didn’t recognize anyone. But, oh Lord, it was horrible. The way they were treating each other. And the beasts, too, clamored for the higher ground. The women, screaming and crying, abandoned children. The men seemed to not care at all about them. Only themselves. The strong crawled over the weak.”
“I’m so sorry you had to see such a thing.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why, but the Lord chose us, Jemri. We must make sure our children follow Him.”
“Yes, and our children’s children. Whatever it takes.” She hugged herself.
Oh, Lord, don’t require us to wait. Open my womb and make me fr
uitful.
The cock’s crow announced the coming of a new day, just as it had in Adam’s Valley. Some things remained the same, and for those little treasures to hold onto, she gave thanks. The second day in the ark—only thirty-eight more once this one ended. “Shall we start our chores?”
He laughed. “No, after we break our fasts is soon enough. Japheth and I learned years ago, if we finished before Ham, he’d want us to help with his chores.”
She caught some of his mirth. Myelin could shirk if allowed; they made a good pair. Jemri would listen to her husband and sit right there enjoying her tea with him. The future patriarch of all of Adam’s sons. No more would men be divided into two tribes. All would be the sons of Noah, and her Shem held the birthright. Praise God for His tender mercies.
And her husband was right. The Lord had chosen them, though she didn’t feel worthy of such honor. The more she got to know him, the more special and wonderful attributes she saw in Shem. Japheth had wanted Varsi enough to trade his birthright to get her. The cock crowed again, and it seemed the whole menagerie answered back.
Shem stood. “Perhaps we do need to see to our charges.”
Noah stopped short of the aviary’s door and touched the dove’s neck. Tithe bird cooed. He loved that sound, but couldn’t linger. He wanted to check the water tank before short shadows, not that he could see many shades with the drenching rain. His stomach grumbled, reminding him of the approaching meal. He stepped out.
Hattimas had hinted of raisin bread. Bless her heart, such a tease, but only one of the things he loved about her. Shame she never learned to cook like their mother.
Of all the tales Myelin told of Nod, the sons of Cain preferring to wed strangers and not their sisters was the most bizarre. Not as horrible as burning their babies, sacrificing them to the pagan snake. Bless his merciful Heavenly Father. That would not be happening anymore. He hated how sin had corrupted the world.
The Lord left the earth and all therein—what would be left—to him and his sons to start anew. They must see to it that the children and all those generations after worshiped God.
He latched the coop’s door, then hurried to the east end of the ark—or what he knew as that end. Could it possibly still point in the same direction? Hadn’t seemed to have done much but roll and pitch some. He’d take a look after the midday meal. See what he could see, hoping to keep his bearings.
On arriving at the far end, he climbed the ladder to the top of the giant barrel, retrieved the dipstick, and opened the lid. He lowered the hickory rod to the three cubits mark then pulled it back out. Half a cubit down. At that rate, the water would last well past the forty days of rain. Good, he had twenty days’ extra.
On the floor below, across the wide expanse, Japheth and Varsi both rode the wagon toward the middle dung pile. His oldest should be done with his morning chores shortly. Noah leaned out a bit over the rail, but couldn’t see any movement on the far end.
He should check on Ham and Myelin, but he could do that later when he measured the water tank on their end. If his middle son wasn’t…he put that thought away. Ham might be on the lazy side, but he’d do his share.
Once inside his quarters, he followed his nose to the kitchen, nothing like the one he had built for her in the big house, but with many of the changes Hattimas had mentioned over the years. He loved his wife, her generosity and depth of love, especially toward the daughters the Lord sent her.
His sons all married strangers for they had no sisters.
Would God open her womb again and allow his wife more children? She hummed a happy tune, and he slipped into his chair and watched as she went about preparing the meal. Shortly, she pulled a tray of what looked to be loaves of raisin bread from the oven, and set it on the table in front of him.
She handed him a knife. “Want a taste?”
He sliced off an end. “Any butter?”
She handed him a plate with a nice gob of yellow in the middle. “I mixed in a little honey.”
“You sure know how to spoil me.”
She smiled. “How is it?”
“Ummm...” He swallowed. “Most excellent. What else have you planned?”
“Stewed apples and a medley of dried vegetables crisped in hot olive oil.”
“Excellent, may I set the table for you? Our children should be here shortly.”
“Please and thank you, dear one.”
Soon all of his sons’ feet were under the rock table. After an initial flurry of passed dishes and filled plates, the conversation flowed. Myelin spoke of the big cats, especially Lion, like they were all her new pets. The others commented on their charges whose names escaped them…all but Jemri who kept glancing at the closed window.
Noah studied Shem’s wife until she realized it and offered a weak smile.
“Daughter, is something troubling you?”
She ducked her chin and shook her head.
Her husband put his arm around her shoulder. “The Lord showed her Nod last night in a vision.”
She looked up, her head still shaking a short, rapid no or as though trying to rid the images from her mind’s eye. “Oh, Father, it was horrible. They were climbing over each other, trying to get to higher ground. The strong pulled the weak back down, stepping over the women and babies. I don’t know why….” Her eyes brimmed full, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
“Sweet Jemri, I’m so sorry.” Mother hurried to her and hugged the girl from behind.
“I am, too, but also, I’m thankful the Lord brought us here, saved us from the flood.” She managed a weak smile. “Before I saw Nod, I dreamed of the giant who saved Varsi and me.” She glanced across the table to her twin. “Friend goes by Centurion. He’s an angel of the host, and has great wings.” She held her arms up and out. “Twice this big. He took me up high into the sky and through a sparkling blue circle of light that opened when he sang three notes. It opened to a place where the angels war with songs.”
“Grandfather Enoch spoke of it being the second heaven.” Noah held a hand out to his beloved.
“Sister, Friend’s name is Centurion? And he’s an angel?”
“No, he said he’s not allowed himself to be named yet, but Centurion is what he is. Well, he’s an angel, a winged man, but Centurion is his title, I think.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, but mercy, when his legion began to sing, it was…amazing, and beautiful…and awesome. I could have stayed there listening forever. But then evil angels started singing, and it actually hurt my chest listening to them.”
The twin kept talking about her night vision.
Noah wasn’t sure about the validity of her dream, but how could she make up such? Was the Lord telling them through this girl what was happening in the Heavens? Padam and Meve spoke of a winged man who guarded Eden with a flaming sword, and Meve claimed another such came and helped with the birth of Cain and Abel.
But so many more of them than could be numbered battling each other with songs? What would be the purpose? But then why had Abba sent a fiery horse and chariot to fetch Father Enoch?
The ark rolled then moved. It seemed to lurch forward. The wood creaked. What was happening? Noah ran to the window and opened it slightly—only sheets of rain that obscured all. A bolt of white light, similar to those that sprang from the finger of God, streaked from Heaven to earth and illuminated the familiar mountain.
The water covered the ground and dashed against God’s mountain halfway toward the big rock called Last Look. In a few heartbeats, lightning flashed again, and he searched. Last Look had moved far to his left from where it had been. But it couldn’t. It was the ark. The waters had lifted it.
The vessel no longer sat on the ground.
The waters carried it now, and the boat sailed away from their valley.
Chapter Three
Noah closed the window and latched it then turned around. His sons and their wives flanked his wife. All stared at him. Hattimas’ eyes overf
lowed. “Where is the Lord taking us? Do you know?”
“I do not, dear, but He does.” The ark dipped. Hattimas lost her balance, but Japheth and Varsi caught her and held her upright. There seemed an increase in the vessel’s motion. The menagerie’s din rose in proportion to the storm’s fury. A resounding boom traveled across the heavens, and everyone’s eyes widened.
“What was that?” Jemri searched her husband’s face.
But he only shrugged. “Who knows, save God? We shall call the flash, lightning, and the rumbling boom, thunder.”
Hattimas ran into Noah’s open arms. “Will we ever see our valley again?”
“I’m not sure.” He rubbed her hair. “But wherever He sends us, that’s where we’ll begin anew.”
She closed her eyes and ducked her chin against his chest. Noah wrapped her up then nodded toward the door. “Rest for now. I’ll come shortly. We have much to do.”
Once his children retreated to their own quarters, he picked up his wife and cradled her in his arms as he once had years ago. Those were the best days, before his mother insisted he stop carrying little sister around and ended any physical contact with her at all. Well, she did allow him to hold her hand during the blessing at the Feast of the Firstborns.
The feast…would there ever be another?
So much would change.
Father God in Heaven, lead me and guide me. Help me to remain always in Your will. I cannot imagine all there is to do. Strengthen me and give me wisdom.
Just before he reached their bed, Hattimas snuggled in tight. “Ask Abba. Ask Him to bring us back to our home.”
He kissed her then eased her down. “I will, Wife, but it’s not in man to guide his own steps. His ways are not our ways.”
“I know that. I’ve heard the fathers. But the thought of living anywhere else but our valley…it hurts my heart.”
She had given his own desires voice. Nothing was as he’d thought, though he’d spent so very many days imagining, planning, trying to anticipate every aspect of the coming flood. But instead of gently rising water with an equally soft return, the very Wrath of God had been unleashed on the earth.