Replenish the Earth (The Generations Book 3)

by Caryl McAdoo

  Oh, to bear the patriarch his first grandson and heir to the birthright. Then a strange notion struck her. Would Shem—being the youngest—readily pass the birthright to his firstborn?

  As always, her moon cycle pain subsided, but not the extra work. Instead of only hauling the dung to the nearby compost stall—which still had to be done—from that pile, the oldest dung was shoveled to fill the emptied cart. From there, she hauled to the forge for adding to the coal. The only bright spot in the bone-wearying damp, hard work was that the days of the deluge drew fast to an end.

  If Shem calculated correctly, the first water screw would be ready on the fortieth day of them being in the ark. It couldn’t come soon enough.

  Then that morning came, and the water screw wasn’t ready, but worse, the rain continued as hard as ever, if not harder.

  A long blast sounded higher and clearer than any shofar Noah had ever heard. Was he still asleep and dreaming? He moved toward consciousness enough to snuggle in next to his wife and returned to his sleep vision. Hundreds—even thousands—of winged men flew through a large circle of blue light in the sky.

  An extra-large angel hovered in another army of the winged ones, these bathed in a brilliant golden glow. The giant held his arms up and bellowed. “Praise the Almighty! Evil retreats.”

  The angels of light beat a fist on their breast plates in unison; a most pleasant rhythm boomed in Noah’s ears. Together they sang. “Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest! The judgments of the Lord are just and true! His servants triumph gloriously, evil falls anew. Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest!”

  Noah sat up in bed, totally awake. But the song and booming rhythm lingered for several heartbeats before fading to silence. Had he been singing with the hosts? Is that what woke him? He glanced at his wife sleeping peacefully still. Another heartbeat, and the silence struck him. He ran to the window and flung it open.

  No rain! Bless the Lord!

  In the distance a faint pink he’d never seen before illuminated the sky behind the mountain tops, but no summits he recognized. He scanned the horizon for any familiar peaks, but there were none. Still! No rain. Praise Abba. As he studied the scene in awe, an angry reddish-yellow orb of fire peeked out, forced him to look away.

  Could it be the morning’s sun? But so brilliant….

  A few clouds lingered, but beyond that, the sky shone so blue and bright. Nothing like it had ever been before. As though the Heaven hung naked above, the sun rose a hand’s width about the unfamiliar mountain range. But so bright, he couldn’t bear looking at it. The soft light of morning’s dawn was no more. The firmament had taken on such intense color.

  He sank to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor. “Bless You, Holy One. My God, just and righteous in all Your ways. You have delivered me and my house from Your wrath. Kept the ark in the palm of Your hand. Cleansed Your earth and saved us from evil.”

  As he extolled the goodness of God, he became aware that Hattimas stood next to him, but only for a few breaths before joining him on the floor. Together, he and his wife worshiped Almighty God.

  If only he could live here, in the presence he loved more than life itself, but so much to do waited. He rose, stood, then helped his beloved to her feet.

  She hugged him tight and buried her face in his chest. After a bit, she met his eyes. “It’s all changed.”

  “I saw, but praise Abba! The rain has stopped.”

  “Yes, the girls and I were so disappointed last even, but then it needed to rain all the fortieth day to fulfill the prophecy. Myelin mentioned that, but we were so tired of it, sick of water falling from the sky.”

  “Yes, as was I.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Come, my sweet. We have chores. Now that the rain has stopped, Shem’s water screw is even more important.”

  “But I hate the thought of him and Jemri being on the outside of the ark. What if one or both of them should fall?”

  “We’ve made them harnesses. The Lord will protect them. There’s no other way to connect the pipe.” He squeezed her tight. “Trust me. Our children will be safe.”

  Enoch woke, completely awake. Unlike his days on earth, no grogginess to shake off or aches and pains to work through. He loved living in Heaven in his own mansion with an awesome view from his bed chamber’s balcony. He slipped out of his light covers and climbed the twelve steps to his loft.

  Heights always blessed him, and he loved the vantage peering across the Crystal Sea toward Elohim’s throne. It glowed, bathed in golden brightness. Oh, for that glorious day when he could see the Creator face to face, bask in His presence. But until then, he bowed right there before his God and worshiped.

  After a few beats of his heart, the vision came again. Then in it, just as he finished speaking his full name to the small crowd gathered in front of him, another joined him. The man beside him smiled then shouted in a loud voice. “I am Elijah, the Tishbite! Hear, oh Israel, the Lord your God is One.”

  Beyond this, a tall stone wall where hundreds of men swayed with long forelocks hanging from identical black hats. They all turned and stared at Elijah dressed in soiled, rough clothes.

  Then it all vanished, and he opened his eyes to the weave of his prayer rug. He threw off his shawl, hurried downstairs, grabbed his rock set—just in case—and headed out. He took the long way through the commons, but no teams of angels played Push, nor did anyone wait at his favorite stone table wanting a game.

  He turned his face toward the elders’ dwelling. Perhaps he could glean a bit of news. Perhaps first of the cherubim knew something of the man Elijah, the Tishbite, or had knowledge of the Israel he addressed with his booming voice.

  On the path, he spotted a red-tipped bush in full bloom and gathered enough leaves for several pots of tea, storing them in the convenient folds of his garments. Namrel loved that sweet drink. Once seated at the elders’ table and the tea brewing, Enoch reported the newest part of his vision.

  When he finished, the old one unfolded his wings slightly then brought them back snug against his back. Enoch had seen his friend do the exact thing on numerous occasions and ascertained it to be a habit when the cherub searched his memory, in the same manner his father moved his hands telling a story.

  “So, Namrel? Do you know an Elijah or Israel?”

  “No, I have never heard of nor seen either. But the place you described, I am familiar with. It stands in a city not yet built and is called the Wailing Wall.” He closed his eyes, as if viewing the landmark afresh, then nodded and grinned. “And you, my friend, were standing before it.”

  “Me? But I’ve never heard of such. Where is it?”

  “I do not know exactly.”

  “Earth?”

  “Oh yes, most assuredly.”

  “So, it’s true, then. I am destined to return.”

  “Yes, the Lord has decreed that each man must die once, and then judgment.”

  Chapter Five

  Jemri scooched out the enlarged opening and stopped with her belly on the edge, Shem held his hand toward her and smiled. She took it then swung her legs over and grabbed the harness rope with her off hand, still hanging on to her husband. Waves slapped at the ark but nothing like during the height of the storm.

  So bright! And the sky a bluer blue than ever. She remembered to breathe. Water covered all but the highest mountain peaks off in the distance. It looked as though it covered the whole world. When and how could all the water go away? Where would it go?

  The forty days were over, but would she ever leave the ark?

  Shortly, her heartbeat slowed. Not too bad hanging outside the massive vessel, at least not as terrible as expected. She could do this. Better her than either of her sisters. Both would have fainted already, and the men were needed on the inside to hand out the water screw.

  The thing outweighed everyone put together, maybe more.

  “Are you good?”

  She nodded, but didn’t quite trust her voice.

  “We’
re ready, Father.”

  The screw’s brass end slid out straight. Hopefully, she could do her part securing it to the side of the ark. A third…then halfway, the contraption balanced on the ark’s edge.

  Noah’s head appeared out of the opening. “Stay clear. We’re going to let it come into the side now then lower it to the water.”

  “We will.” Shem looked at her. “Scoot over another foot’s worth.”

  “My foot or yours?”

  He smirked and threw her a nod. “Mine. Now watch out. Be careful.”

  Moving a bit away as told, she giggled. She thought her joke funny even if he didn’t. Well, she’d get him that night, tickle him silly. How a grown man could be so ticklish, she may never know, but loved it that she knew all the right spots. And it always led to cuddling. She so wanted to be the first to bear.

  The tube’s shadow fell on her, and all thoughts of later that night vanished. A hand’s worth at a time, it crept downward and then with a loud thud, banged into place against the ark’s side. Its end disappeared into the water. Someone lowered the baskets with the braces, screws and tools.

  The sting in her shoulders, arms, and hands started after the third brace, then grew with each one until she was sure either her limbs would fall off or burst into flames. But bless God, she kept at it, did her part even though she hated it every time they lowered her. She twisted all twenty-four brass screws snug into the gopher wood. Maybe not as fast as Shem, but almost.

  The men already had the top lashed in place with heavy jute ropes and the turn wheel connected to the turn pole when her twin helped her back inside. Never had she been more thrilled to be in the ark. Even Mother had left her cooking to come see if the full scale model of Shem’s invention worked as well as the smaller one.

  “Everything connected and ready?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  Noah nodded toward the donkey. “Give him a little tap on the rump.”

  Twelve trips around, and the water gushed out and flowed into the holding tank. Shem grinned. Jemri kissed his cheek then broke into a skipping dance. Her sisters and mother joined her, holding hands all in a circle. The men gathered around and clapped a steady beat for the dance, but never joined in. Silly men. Didn’t they know how to celebrate?

  After the joy subsided, Noah set up his sandglass then measured the tank’s level. Once he climbed down from the giant barrel’s top, he faced his wife. “Mother, did you bring bread?”

  “Yes, and a bottle of red wine, one of your favorites.”

  “Excellent idea. We’ll break bread and toast Shem’s water screw. This will give me time to see how long we need to turn the wheel each day.”

  By her father’s calculations, the screw needed to be turned from first light to short shadows each day to replace what the animals drank. One more chore, turning the wheel, but at least they had plenty of beasts for the job. Too bad they needed someone as sentry to keep them walking.

  But Jemri figured waterwheel duty far outweighed shoveling manure.

  That night when she finally got her husband into bed, she snugged in tight and traced her finger over his chest. “You are so smart.”

  “Thank you, but I admit I held my breath after that fifth turn with still no water coming.” He chuckled. “Did you see the look on Japheth’s face when it finally did, though?”

  “No, tell me.”

  “Oh, I think he may have been a little disappointed.”

  “Do you think?”

  “Yes, he tried to act like it didn’t bother him, but I could tell.”

  Jemri nodded. Seemed to her their mother remained a bit reserved over Shem’s success as well. “Do you think Japheth regrets trading you the birthright?”

  “At times, but he loves Varsi. Even if he thinks about it, well...”

  She scooted up and kissed him. “Give me a baby.”

  “Oh, Wife, I am beyond tired.”

  “We need to be first.”

  “What? Why? Don’t be foolish, it isn’t a race.”

  “Oh, but it is. Don’t you see? If our son is born first, then…well…Mother still…”

  “Mother still what? Stop talking in riddles.”

  “It’s clear she favors Japheth, and you know how much influence she has over Father.”

  “No, never. Father will not void our trade. He changed the order in the chronicles. I watched him do it. The birthright belongs to me, and whoever of my sons I choose will become the patriarch after me.”

  Though his words soothed her soul, bearing first would still prove to her twin which of them was the real firstborn, too. Nevermind her grandmother had failed to tie on the birth ribbon. Jemri knew it down in her bones and would love bearing Noah’s first grandson. She kissed her husband again. With more passion.

  At first, he just lay there then after seven—or was it twelve?—little teasing kisses, he rolled onto his side. Seemed he wasn’t as tired as he thought.

  Noah finished his morning prayers, folded the rug, then draped his shawl over it. Bless God. Fifty days gone, but still no word as to how long before he could start his new life. After he kindled the stove’s fire, he returned to his bedroom and kissed his wife’s cheek. “The cock has crowed three times, yet my love still slumbers.”

  She nodded, but didn’t open her eyes. “Are the children here?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Is there any tea?”

  He chuckled. “No, but the fire is kindled.”

  She sat up. “How can you be so cheery so early?”

  The answer died on his lips as a wind rattled the window’s covering. He rushed to the opening and unlatched it. A blast of cold air chilled his cheeks. On the western horizon, a black wall of angry roiling clouds rushed toward the ark. “Oh, Lord.”

  “What is it?” Hattimas joined him at the opened window. “Oh, no! Is that more…rain coming? But I thought….”

  Mere heartbeats later, rolling booms of thunder followed multiple flashes of light embedded in the storm.

  “Oh, dear Lord, has there not been enough water?”

  His answer swept into the ark. Noah slammed the shutters closed, latched them then wiped the water from his face.

  She plopped into the nearest chair as though crushed and hugged herself. “Husband, why? Why did He send more rain? All but the highest mountain tops are covered.”

  Moving to her, he hugged his wife to his side. “I don’t know.” He took her hand and pulled gently, bringing her to her feet. “Come.” Noah shepherded her toward the closet. “What I do know is that it’s colder than I’ve ever known. You’ll want extra garments this day.”

  “Father?” Shem’s voice echoed from the other room. “Mother?”

  “We’re in here, Son.”

  Jemri followed Shem through the dining room.

  While he continued on, she veered off to the kitchen. Someone had a fire but no tea water yet. She filled the pot then warmed her hands.

  “Oh, there you are.” Hattimas hurried toward her like Jemri had violated some rule being in her kitchen alone. She scooted to the side but stayed close to the stove.

  Before the tea was ready, the storm hit the ark. Timbers creaked. The menagerie protested, but other than the sound of the storm’s fury, it wasn’t much unlike the first forty days. Soon, mother cooked breakfast, and Jemri and her twin had the table set and everyone seated.

  Noah extended his hands to Hattimas and Shem. All the rest grabbed each other’s around the table until the circle completed, then Father bowed his head. “God, we bless Your Holy Name, and thank You for the storm and all that You have saved us from—the rain and the flood.”

  The groaning of the ark’s timbers drowned out the amens.

  Ham jumped to his feet. “Why are we turning?” The anger in his voice startled Jemri. But the great ship lurched forward, knocking everyone back. It was definitely turning. Her middle brother grabbed his chair and glared at Noah. “Father! Why! What’s happening?”

  “Sit down,
Son. I don’t know, but the Lord does. And we are in His hands. He will deliver us through this storm, too.” He shrugged. “But as for the turning, only He has control of where the ark is blown. We know not where or how long it will be.”

  “But it’s been forty days! Why hasn’t the rain stopped?”

  “Take comfort, Son, and don’t be angry. Not with God. He has known this day all the way back to Father Jared when he and Grandfather Methuselah planted the first gopher tree. The Lord is cleansing the earth—for the eight of us. For our sakes. Though we know not His complete plan or reasoning, we will trust Him. Remain faithful in our father’s beliefs and teachings.”

  Ham sank back into his chair and shook his head like he didn’t believe what he’d just heard. “But He said forty days. How long does He expect us to live on this horrid boat and take care of all these creations?” He looked around the table, but all kept silent. “I for one am sick of it. Myelin shouldn’t have to work so hard!”

  She jumped to her feet and moved behind him, hugged his neck and pressed her cheek to his. “Husband. I am fine with the work.” She too looked around the table. “I haven’t complained. Not once.” She leaned out away and peered at her husband’s face. “Dearest, I count God sending Grandfather Lamech to Nod such a blessing and feel so undeserving of God’s favor.”

  “But, we should be….I don’t understand.”

  Jemri did. Her whole life had been by divine appointment. Even to Shem going from first choice to last, and him still getting her to wife. Oh, how thankful she was, and blessed. Her son would carry the birthright from his father and be in the recorded generations of God as such.

  Centurion sang the portal open then led his cohort through. The last angel sang it closed. Below, in the midst of the storm, the Lord’s ark sped eastward with the wind. With a word, all of his ten knew their task. He flew to the ship’s nose and found a handhold. Once the others of the host did likewise, he extended his wings and pushed with all his might.