Noah: Man of God

by Tim Chaffey

  She smiled and a tear dripped from her eye. “Come here.” As he bent forward, she stretched up and kissed him. “Thank you. He does look like a Japheth.” She offered their son back to Noah. “Would you like to introduce him to our friends?”

  Noah gave her a confused look. “You want me to invite them in here?”

  She shook her head. “Take him outside and introduce them to Japheth.”

  Noah cradled the baby in his arm and stood tall. “I’d love to.” His chest puffed up and he smiled wide as he strode toward the tent’s opening.

  Chapter 19

  Emzara leaned her back against the side of the wagon bed, with Japheth cradled in her arms and Methuselah sitting on the bench in front. Initially, she had offered to walk to the mound, but Noah insisted that they take the cart so she had a clean, more comfortable place to sit during the sacrifice. His overprotective care for her well-being reminded her of their time in Havil shortly after their wedding.

  As the flames slowly consumed the pair of animals on the altar, she looked at the perfect face of her sleeping son and shook her head, knowing that he would sin just like Greatfather Adam and everyone else. Noah would need to teach him the significance of their sacrifices.

  As the evening air cooled, Emzara pulled the blanket snug under Japheth’s chin. Noah looked her way. His face was always grim after killing an animal. He raised his eyebrows slightly and Emzara wondered how the birth of their son affected his thoughts. Lamech and Elam stood somberly near the altar, their bloodied arms and tunics a testament to their participation in the ceremony.

  “Creator God, we thank You,” Lamech prayed, and Emzara looked up toward the heavens. “Thank You for bringing us to this place. We offer up praise to You for Your mighty works. You have continuously shown us Your faithfulness. Like a guard, You have preserved us from the evil intentions of our enemies.

  “We praise You for new life. Like a farmer, You will tend to young Japheth and Rayneh as they flourish and grow. Help us to train them in Your ways.

  “Like a master craftsman, You have a plan for everything and everyone here. You guide and direct us and prepared this place long before we arrived. We marvel at the perfection of Your ways, even though we do not fully understand them.

  Please continue to watch over and bless us. May Your holiness and mercy be ever before our eyes, and may the paths we tread be pleasing in Your sight.”

  As his words faded, everyone remained silent until Rayneh tripped over Purlek’s foot. Her bottom lip quivered as he picked her up. “Careful, little one,” Purlek said as he brushed off her knee. “There, all better.” He tickled her midsection and she giggled.

  Rayneh lifted her arms in the air. “Up.”

  Purlek kissed her chubby cheek and placed her on his shoulders. “Methuselah, what can you tell us about the third grave there that is separated from the other two?”

  Methuselah slowly climbed down from the front of the wagon. “This sacrifice is the perfect backdrop to what happened.” He paused, and as with other natural storytellers, his demeanor drew everyone in.

  Noah moved closer to Emzara and put an arm on hers while the others moved closer to Methuselah.

  “Just like you, my dear Emzara” — Methuselah nodded in her direction — “Greatmother Eve experienced the joy of motherhood. Her eldest was named Cain, and their second born they called Abel. Cain tilled the ground and tended the crops, much as you have done, my son.” He smiled at Lamech. “And Abel became a keeper of flocks.

  “Greatfather had many other sons and daughters, and Cain married one of his sisters, and Abel did the same. But after they were grown and had started families, something terrible happened between them. Cain couldn’t stand the way that Abel seemed to thrive. Abel had fathered two sons and a daughter but Cain had no children at the time.”

  Emzara stroked Japheth’s cheek and bent down to kiss his soft skin. She wondered if Cain and his wife struggled to produce children and she understood the pain they might have faced.

  A strong, steady gust of wind blew through the camp, and a cloud passed in front of the moon. The telltale scent of a storm filled the air.

  “I think we’d better move inside before the rain hits,” Lamech said. “We have room in our tent, if you want to meet in there.”

  “Grandfather,” Noah said. “Take Em and the wagon back to the tents. I’ll help clean up around here.” He turned and raised his voice. “If anyone wants a ride in the wagon, it’s leaving now.”

  * * *

  Seated inside Lamech and Methuselah’s tent, Emzara resituated the swaddled, sleeping baby in her lap. She thought about laying him down on the pillow beside her, but the urge to watch and feel her newborn breathe overrode her desire for sleep.

  “Was he worth waiting for?” Lamech asked, tipping his head toward the infant.

  Emzara gave him a tired smile. “Worth every year of it.”

  “I can’t express how proud I am of you and Noah.” Lamech’s eye twinkled in the soft glow of the various oil lamps in the tent. “Whenever you get tired of holding him. . . .”

  “You’ll get another chance.” Emzara grinned. “Maybe in a few weeks.”

  With Lamech’s assistance, Methuselah slowly sat down between her and Lamech. He turned to Emzara. “But I get to hold him before my son does.”

  “Of course.” Emzara winked at him before glancing around the room. Garun and Laleel played with Rayneh while Elam picked at his fingernails, trying to remove bits of encrusted blood from the sacrifice.

  A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the darkness outside the tent, giving her a glimpse of the rain pounding on the roof and sides of the shelter. Emzara gently covered Japheth’s ears so that the impending peal of thunder would not wake him.

  “Hurry up.” Purlek’s voice mixed with a laugh as loud footsteps raced closer to the tent’s opening.

  A moment later, Evet ducked under the flap, trailed by Purlek and then Noah. Her hair and clothing drenched from the sudden downpour, Evet chuckled as she wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I guess we were a little too slow.”

  “Here.” Lamech tossed dry cloths to her and Purlek.

  Noah used the inside of his wrap to wipe off his face before making his way toward Emzara. “What did we miss?” he asked as he found a spot beside her.

  “Nothing yet,” Emzara said.

  He held out his damp hands toward Japheth. “My turn?”

  Emzara playfully turned her shoulder away from him. “Not while you’re soaking wet. But you can have this.” She quickly kissed him on the cheek.

  “That’ll do.” He smiled warmly at their child. “At least for now.”

  She winked at him and then nudged Methuselah. “Grandfather, do you mind telling us more about what happened with Cain and Abel?”

  He straightened. “I’d love to.”

  “You just started telling us about something terrible happening between the brothers.” Using an oil lamp, Garun lit the firepot in the middle of the tent.

  “Yes.” Methuselah squinted and stroked his beard. “Ah, that’s right. The young men brought their sacrifices to the Most High.”

  “Like the one we just offered?” Purlek asked.

  “Well, yes, but not quite the same. Abel’s sacrifice was like ours. It was the best of the animals in his herd. But Cain offered the fruit of his labor with the land. You can clearly see the images at the house that depict the distinct sacrifices. It reminded me of the lessons my father instilled in me. The Creator was displeased with Cain. He told him that he would be accepted if he did what was right. Sadly, Cain didn’t heed the warning.”

  Noah shook his head slowly. “I can’t imagine hearing God and refusing to obey Him. Must have ripped Cain up inside.”

  “It did more than that. Cain became furious, and rather than dealing with his anger and pride, he gave into it. One day, while the two were alone, he murdered his brother Abel.”

  A gasp escaped Emzara’s lips, and she inst
inctively clutched at her son. Tears filled her eyes at the thought of what Greatmother Eve must have endured. Did Cain or another of her children tell her what became of Abel? Or did she sit and wait for days for her son to return? She shivered and held Japheth tighter.

  “Our world is very wicked, but I can see that really wickedness has pervaded our hearts since that first choice to sin.” Garun furrowed his eyebrows. “How poisonous it is to rebel against the commands of the Most High.”

  Methuselah nodded gravely. “God punished Cain and sent him away to wander the earth for the rest of his days. He separated from his parents, taking his wife with him. God was merciful, though, and gave them a family. Cain then built a city in the land of Nod and named it after his son.”

  “It’s such a sad portion of our history,” Emzara said.

  “Enoch,” Noah said as if thinking out loud.

  “That’s correct,” Methuselah said. “Now I think I understand one of the reasons my father kept going back to that place to warn them.”

  “Because he had the same name as the city?” Noah asked.

  “Yes. I think he felt an extra burden for that place.”

  “So Noah, Rayneh, and I encountered the descendants of Cain when we crossed paths with the Nodite army?” Elam broke a twig and tossed it into the small fire.

  “Mmhmm. They became a mighty people.” He pointed to Purlek. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re one of his descendants.”

  “I am.” Purlek grabbed Evet’s hand. “But I’m not like Cain. I want to follow the Creator’s ways.”

  She nestled against him. “I know.”

  “Many of Cain’s descendants believed in the Creator. My father told me about some of the ones he met in his travels.” Methuselah shifted in his seat. “Cain wasn’t the only one to whom God gave a son after all of this. Greatmother Eve also gave birth to another son. She named him Seth.” He gestured to Noah, Emzara, Lamech, and himself. “We’re his descendants. I’m not sure about the rest of you.”

  Garun slid an arm around Laleel. “We’re from Ma’anel, one of Greatfather’s youngest sons.”

  “What about you, Elam?” Lamech asked. “Do you know your lineage?”

  Elam focused thoughtfully on the crackling flames in front of him. “My father told me we were descendants of Zakar, the second-born son of Abel.”

  Laleel leaned forward and pointed at both Purlek and Elam. “How interesting that we have descendants of both Cain and Abel here.”

  “I’m glad you two get along better than your ancestors did,” Emzara said.

  “Me, too.” Elam laughed. “I don’t think a seamster is a match for a blacksmith in a fight.”

  Purlek smiled at him. “You have nothing to fear from me.” He shrugged and snorted. “Besides, I need someone to make clothes for me.”

  Laughter filled the tent, and Emzara treasured the tight bond of friendship within the group. When they all quieted, she asked, “So was there anything else on the wall about Cain and Abel?”

  Methuselah closed his eyes and twisted his lips as he thought. “There was. Cain hoped that no one would find out what he did, but the Creator confronted him. He said that the blood of Abel cried out to Him from the ground. Part of his punishment included a promise that the land would not yield its fruit to him.”

  “Abel’s blood cried out from the ground. I wonder. . . .” Elam spoke slowly. “It’s been a tradition of my people as we’re praying to the Creator to place one ear on the ground.”

  “I remember the first time I saw the Zakari do that. I meant to ask about it.”

  “I never gave it much thought, but now that I know our history, I wonder if Zakar started the practice as a way to honor his father.” Elam ran a finger across his lips. “Or maybe we do it to receive an answer, as if Abel’s blood really does cry out.”

  “Maybe both,” Lamech said. “Perhaps Zakar started it as a way to honor his father, but maybe as time went on, it became more of a tradition detached from its true meaning.”

  “That makes sense to me.” Elam picked Rayneh up into his lap as she ran into him. He kissed her forehead and spoke softly. “We just found out a little more about our people.”

  She giggled and leaned in until her face almost touched his.

  “There is one more thing about Cain,” Methuselah said.

  “What is it?” Purlek asked.

  “God placed a mark on him to protect his life. Anyone who killed Cain would face retribution sevenfold.”

  “What sort of mark?” Purlek asked. “And who would he need to be protected from?”

  Methuselah raised an eyebrow. “Remember, his brothers and sisters were also Abel’s brothers and sisters. And Abel already had a couple of sons. Any of those people may have sought vengeance on Cain for his actions.”

  “And that’s what King Lamech boasted about,” Noah said. “The last time we went to Havil, he bragged about killing Aterre, and said that if Cain was to be avenged sevenfold, then he would be avenged 77 times.”

  “Sounds like he knows his history,” Lamech said.

  “And he also sounds very prideful,” Methuselah said.

  “More than you can imagine.” Noah rubbed the back of his neck.

  Purlek stood and helped Evet to her feet. “It’s good to learn what happened in the lives of our forefathers, even if it’s not always what we want to hear. It helps us make sense of some of the things we encounter today. Thank you, Methuselah, for telling us what you’ve learned.”

  As the group exchanged farewells for the evening, Emzara looked down at her tiny son as he rested. His lashes lay in perfect form on his cheeks, like carefully fanned out stalks of grain after the harvest. I’m going to tell you and your brothers the story of where we all came from so that you can tell future generations. We must never forget.

  Chapter 20

  Havil — Noah’s 530th year

  “Careful, you fool.” Naamah glared at the servant as he fumbled near the wooden stand, rattling the many glass bottles filled with various potions that rested on it. The man quickly added the new vials to the inventory and rushed out of the room.

  Standing at the foot of the bed, Naamah turned and looked at her handiwork. Under her orders, tapestries enhanced with symbols of the dark arts had replaced the gaudy decorations that once adorned her father’s bedroom walls. Statues of Nachash had taken the place of the myriad weapons. Additional pillows graced the bed. A new wardrobe to the left held a variety of cloths and towels. The windows bore extra thick fabrics to eliminate all light if needed. The king’s chamber was ready for its new occupant.

  “Bring him in.” She motioned to the man at the door who in turn beckoned to those in the hallway before stepping out of the way. Slowly, six priests carried a stretcher through the entry. A small form lay prostrate on the canvas. Naamah rushed to the seer’s side and grabbed his hand.

  “Priestess.”

  “Shhh. Save your strength.” Turning to the men transporting him, she pointed at her mentor. “Move him carefully to the bed. His life for yours.”

  “Naamah, this will not bode well for you if your father finds out.”

  His breathing increased as four servants carefully transferred him to Lamech’s bed.

  “You will be by my side while you’re sick. I’m doing what I can to make you well, and there’s no need to worry about the king. Nachash is on our side.”

  “But this—”

  “Is my father’s room?” she finished for him, grinning. “I know.”

  “Consider everything we’ve worked for.” He tried to sit up on one arm, but after finding the exertion to be too much, he lowered himself back onto the pillows.

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ve had the adjoining room since his precious Adah left years ago. And now I’ve fixed his room up so you can get better.”

  “But the king—”

  “Is in Iri Geshem ruling and won’t be back for several weeks. By our combined wisdom and Nachash’s power, you’ll
be better by then and back in your little hovel, which for whatever reason you love. Until then, consider this your home. I’ve done my best to bring everything here. See, even your beloved scrolls are close by.”

  The seer relaxed a little. “Thank you, Priestess.”

  Naamah busied herself organizing the room, lighting a variety of candles scattered on different stands. Suddenly, a cry emanated from the sick man. She rushed to his side. “What is it?”

  “The pain!”

  “Melok, bring the priests. Now!” She then gestured at a female servant. “Get the healer. Hurry.” Both left the room in haste.

  Naamah knelt by the seer’s side, fear filling her for the first time. Her knees quivered, and she lowered herself to the floor. She needed to remain strong for his sake. She whispered an incantation over him and gradually increased in volume as her fervor grew.

  His face seemed like ash and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. Could his wide eyes see her fear? Maybe this was the wrong decision to bring him to the palace. Had his condition worsened during the move? Chills swept through her but she pushed back the fear and rocked as she prayed.

  “We’re here,” said a raspy voice at her side.

  A group of about 20 concerned priests stood just inside the doorway. Prominent scars from slashing themselves during ritual worship mingled with tattoos of Nachash over most of their bare torsos.

  “Begin immediately!” She stepped closer to the seer’s head to allow them space. Soon the smell of incense filled the room. Two priests sat down and beat rhythmically on drums. Breathing deeply and closing her eyes, Naamah told herself everything would be well. Surely Nachash would spare the man who meant the most to her.

  After what seemed like eternity, she peeked at her mentor, but there was no change. Angry at her helplessness, she looked around for the healer and found him by the door. She pushed aside the priest closest to her and hurried across the room. To his credit, the priest never wavered in his intercession.