Noah: Man of God

by Tim Chaffey

  “Do you want us to do that too?” Ham asked.

  “No, it probably isn’t necessary. We were careful, so I’m not sure they’ll know which way we went. It’s just a precaution.” She waded back into the water and slipped her shoes off. “Follow me. You may want to hold your sandals, too. They can get stuck in the mud.”

  She led them upstream through the shallow river. Noah’s toughened feet barely noticed the rough rocks scattered along the way. As they progressed, the roar of crashing water grew louder. Before long they rounded a bend and a spectacular landscape sprawled out before them.

  Noah stared at the wide wall of water tumbling straight down from some 30 or 40 cubits above and ending in the crystal clear pool ahead. On the left, the needle forest dominated the view, climbing the steep hillside to the top of the falls and beyond. However, a handful of fruit trees grew a short distance from the shore. Immediately to either side of the falls, the water splattered all over enormous rocks that almost formed natural staircases to the middle of the cascading water. To the right, the trees appeared to yield to a large meadow, but Noah could not see too far in that direction.

  He cupped his hands, filled them with water, and raised it to his mouth. The cool drink and striking scenery soothed his soul. “This is a beautiful place.”

  “Yes, it is.” Ar’yel flashed a quick smile. “But it gets better.”

  She led them to the left side of the pool and to the fruit trees. “Help yourself.” She grabbed a bulbous red seed fruit from one tree and a malid from another.

  The men followed suit and then Noah and Ham chomped into crispy malids. Shem stuffed one seed fruit into his pocket and held on to two more. Ham lowered himself to the ground.

  “Not here,” Ar’yel said. “We’re very close.”

  Ham sighed and slowly stood. “Where are you leading us?”

  “You’ll see.” She stepped onto the large wet rocks and climbed along the left side of the waterfall. Looking back, she gestured for them to join her.

  “Where’s she going?” Ham asked, his eyebrows pinched low on his forehead.

  Noah looked at his sons. “Let’s find out.”

  They traced her path up the damp stones. As they approached the top, she moved closer to the falls and then disappeared behind the wall of water.

  Ham shouted something to Noah, but the deafening roar drowned out the sound. Ham put his hand on Noah’s shoulder and pointed where Ar’yel had just stood.

  Noah craned his neck to see what Ham attempted to show him, and that’s when he spotted a hidden trail leading behind the falls. He followed his sons onto the trail and then behind the thick sparkling veil.

  Marveling at the wall of tumbling water, Noah stuck his right hand into it and felt its power as it pummeled his fingers. To his left stood a spacious cavern approximately 10 cubits high and perhaps 20 cubits deep.

  Ar’yel sat about two-thirds of the way toward the back on a dry area of the floor. She waved them over. “Now we can rest.”

  Noah and Ham found spots near her, but Shem kept his distance, sitting farther toward the right side of the room. Noah bit into his malid and then looked at her. “Is it safe here?” For the first time since the meal the night before, he looked closely at her and was surprised by how much she resembled Emzara in her younger years. Her long, dark hair and eyes complemented her brown skin, and her slender build belied the strength she had exhibited all morning.

  She nodded. “No one in my village knows about this place.”

  “How did you find it?” Ham asked.

  “I didn’t. My husband did. He brought me here a couple of times. He planted those fruit trees many years ago.”

  Noah drew back. “You’re married?”

  She looked aside and slowly shook her head. “I was . . . for almost a year. He died a couple of weeks ago. They told me he was trampled while hunting great horned faces.” She sniffed and rubbed her eyes.

  Shem’s jaw clenched, and he slowly shook his head at her.

  “I’m sorry about your husband,” Ham said while looking down at the partially eaten fruit in his hands.

  “Thank you.” After a few moments, she gathered her composure and looked up.

  Noah waited until she looked his way before speaking. “We should be the ones thanking you for the rescue. Before we speak about that, let me introduce my sons.” Noah put a hand on Ham’s shoulder. “This is my youngest son, Ham.” He gestured toward Shem by tilting his head. “And that is my middle son, Shem. He was very close to Elam — the other man who was with us.” Grief filled Noah’s heart and he blinked hard. “He was a great friend.”

  She glanced at Shem. “I understand the pain of losing someone close to you.”

  Shem pulled his knees up and put his face against them.

  After an awkward silence, Noah cleared his throat. “Ek’tura called you Ar’yel. Is that your name?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re the chief’s daughter? I ask because you were standing beside him last night.”

  “Not exactly. My husband was the chief’s son.” Ar’yel sat up straight. “In my village, if a man dies, his wife takes his position.”

  “Interesting.” Noah stroked his beard, glad to think about something other than Elam’s death. “So why did you risk everything to rescue us?”

  “Something you said last night — I couldn’t get it out of my mind.” She stared past him. “When you refused to take part in the sacrifice, you said that your God created everything and that He gives life to all things, including the creatures of the forest.” She shook her head. “For my people, everything is about death, and I was so weary of it — especially after my husband died. You spoke of life, and I. . . .” She sighed.

  “What is it?” Noah asked.

  “I think I was supposed to rescue you.”

  Shem perked up and looked at her.

  “Why do you say that?” Ham asked as he yawned. He stretched out on the floor and closed his eyes. “I’m listening.”

  “Ever since my husband’s death, I’ve had the same dream many times.” She shrugged. “This will probably sound silly to you. In my dream, I saw a colorful bird fly into our village and land before Ov’anit, the chief. It was so vibrant and beautiful. It was also very old and wise. And it spoke. Its words were unlike anything I’d heard before. It said that the Creator had a message for us, but Ov’anit ordered my people to put it in a cage so that it could be sacrificed to Bak’hana the next day. Each time in my dream, I waited until night and then opened the door to the cage.” She looked at all three of them.

  “And then what happened?” Noah asked.

  She held her palms up. “I don’t know. That’s when I’d wake up.”

  “And you think this dream represented our arrival last night?” Noah pointed a thumb to his chest and smiled. “Am I the ‘very old’ bird?”

  She chuckled. “Well, you are much older than almost everyone in my village. Most people are killed before they reach 200 years.” She lifted a finger toward him. “And how old are you?”

  “I’m nearly 600. It’s sad that your people are killed so young. But the bird, you think it represented our arrival?”

  “I thought the Creator might have given me this dream so that I’d know what to do when you arrived.”

  Noah massaged his temples as he considered her words. “But you do not follow the Creator?”

  “I don’t know much about Him, but I think I’d like to. Why would I worship Bak’hana, the forest god and a god of death, when I could serve the God who gives life and made all things?”

  “That’s a great question.”

  She folded her hands together. “Would you teach me about Him?”

  “We’d love to.” Noah smiled broadly. “But let me ask you a couple of questions first.” Noah glanced at his sons. Ham’s breathing indicated that he was likely asleep, and though Shem stared toward them, he appeared to be in a daze. “What are you planning to do next? Surely, you can�
�t go back to your people.”

  “No, they’d kill me.” She shook her head. “I was hoping I could travel with you until . . . well, wherever you’re going.”

  “We’re heading for the land of Eden. My wife is waiting for us there, along with my grandfather and my oldest son and his wife.” A pain stabbed Noah’s heart. “She is Elam’s daughter. Now, I have to tell her that—” He took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. “You are certainly welcome to—”

  “And Kezia,” Ham said as he yawned and rolled over.

  Noah gave Ar’yel a half-grin as he used his eyes to silently gesture to Ham.

  She smiled and nodded as she seemed to understand his meaning.

  “Yes, and Kezia. She’s the daughter of some of our dear friends. She’s probably about your age. As I was saying, you’re welcome to join us. We could tell you all about the Creator on the way.” An image of Shem teaching Ar’yel about the Most High flashed through Noah’s mind. Could she be the one? He suppressed a smile.

  “I don’t know the land of Eden, but I’d be grateful to join you.”

  “Can you tell me a little more about our escape? You said that our beasts were already dead.”

  “Yes, after you were taken to the cell, we used them for our sacrifice.”

  Noah folded his arms and shook his head. “Poor things. And what about the bone pit. What’s its purpose?”

  “It has a couple of purposes. The grendecs, as you called them, often stalk the forest at night. And they can smell the dead animals in the pit from far away. So they come there and many of them fall in, and they cannot get back out.”

  “So you use it to kill the grendecs?” Noah asked.

  “That’s one reason. The other is for sacrifices. If I did not help you escape, when the sun rose they would have opened the floor of your room, and you would have fallen into the bone pit. If the fall didn’t kill you, you would’ve been left there to die.”

  Noah scrunched his forehead. “That’s terrible.”

  “I know. I told you before. My people think only of death.”

  “Well.” Noah yawned. “I’m very thankful you thought of life.”

  “I am, too. I already feel free, as if the darkness from deep within me has been removed.”

  “And are we free? You don’t think they’ll find us here?”

  “No one knows about it. But like I said before, it’ll take them at least a day to go around because of the bridge. And by then, we’ll be far away. Look.” She pointed past Shem. “There’s a path through there that will take us north. They’ll never be able to find our trail.”

  “So it is safe to get some rest here?” Noah asked.

  “Yes. We should all sleep a little and leave later today.”

  Chapter 31

  Land of Eden — Noah’s 595th year

  “This is beginning to look familiar,” Noah said as he surveyed the various trees surrounding them.

  “Not to me,” Ham said. “I don’t remember being here.”

  “I don’t either, but notice the types of plants that grow here.” Noah swept his arm in an arc. “They’re the same as the ones near our home. Also, based on my calculations last night, we must be getting close — just a little farther north.” Normally, Shem helped Noah make the calculations, but he still had not spoken since the bridge.

  “I don’t recognize it either.” Ar’yel rubbed her arms as if she were cold. “My people never enter the forbidden land.”

  Noah quirked an eyebrow. She had spoken only a little more than Shem since midmorning, which he found quite odd since she had been extremely talkative after they had left the waterfall cave the previous day. “The forbidden land?”

  “Yes. Once we left the needle tree forest, we were no longer in Bak’hana’s realm. My people say this land is forbidden. I did not realize this was the place you meant when you spoke of Eden.”

  “So even if they could track us, we should no longer worry that they’ll follow us?”

  She shook her head.

  He breathed deeply, unaware until this moment the weight of tension he had borne while constantly looking over his shoulder for a surprise attack.

  Noah wondered if their refusal to enter the land had something to do with the old rumors about Eden. “Is there another reason they do not come here?”

  “What do you mean?” Ar’yel asked.

  “Besides the land being outside of Bak’hana’s realm? I mean, who decided where his realm ends and another one begins?”

  “I don’t know. I only know that my people believe they’ll die if they come here.”

  Noah nodded slowly. “And that’s why you’ve been so quiet. Well, we’ve been living near here — at least I think it’s near here — for 95 years.”

  She smiled and seemed to relax a little.

  They walked in silence for a long while. Eventually, they stopped in a small clearing and sat down to eat some of the fruit they had picked from the orchard near the waterfall, along with some wild berries they had found along the way.

  Instead of sitting away from the group as he had done since Elam’s death, Shem joined them. He broke open a seed fruit and pulled some of the juicy red kernels out, then offered it without a word to Ar’yel, who sat to his left.

  She took the fruit and smiled. “Thank you, Shem.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  Noah swallowed a bite. “It’s good to hear your voice again, Son.”

  Shem sighed. “Why did he say that, Father?”

  Perplexed, Noah looked askance at Shem. “Why did who say what?”

  “Elam. On the bridge when he took the torch, he told me that he could finally repay his debt to you.”

  Noah shrugged. “He didn’t owe me any—”

  “Could he have been talking about the time you rescued him from kidnappers? He told me that story many years ago when I asked what happened to his arm.”

  “Hmm. I suppose he might have thought that.” Noah’s eyes welled up as he remembered Elam’s final moments. “I never looked at it that way. He was a good friend, and I only did what I hope any of us would do in that situation. Besides, I wasn’t alone. Rayneh’s uncle, Aterre, helped me, and so did Elam’s father and several other men from their village.”

  “That must be what he meant.” Shem stared at the ground. “I’m going to miss him so much.”

  “Shem, the greatest act of love a person can show is to give his life for another.” Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “Elam did that for us. As much as it hurts to lose him, we should honor his sacrifice.”

  “I know.” Shem glanced at each of them. “I’m sorry . . . for the way I’ve been acting.” He faced Ar’yel. “I’ve been blaming you for my friend’s death, even though I know you were willing to give your life to save ours — four people you’d never met before. I’m truly sorry. Will you forgive me?”

  She tilted her head. “Thank you for such kind words, but I don’t know how to answer your question. Forgive — what does it mean?”

  “Forgive?” Shem drew back, his eyes wide. “If someone has done something wrong to you or if they owe you something, you can choose to forgive them. It means that you don’t count that wrong or that debt against them anymore.” Shem looked at Noah. “How would you define it?”

  “You did just fine, but perhaps an example would make it clearer.” Noah looked at Ar’yel but pointed to Ham. “When my sons were younger, Ham took something that belonged to Shem, a small toy that my wife had made for him.”

  “What?” Ham asked. “How do you know about that?”

  “You’d be surprised how much your mother and I know.” Noah grinned. “Shem knew he took it, but Ham denied it. One day, Ham accidentally broke the toy, so he buried it in the ground, hoping no one would find out. Shem knew what he had done, but he never held it against Ham — he forgave him — and he continued to love him as his brother.”

  “I understand.” A small dimple formed in her cheek as she smiled at Shem. “Yes
, I will forgive you.”

  “Thank you.” Shem stood and removed his wrap from his shoulder. He ran his fingers along its edge until he located a slight rip in the cloth. He gripped the fabric on both sides of the damaged section and pulled hard, tearing the wrap in half.

  Shem held it out to Ar’yel. “I tried to clean it in the water, but it’s still stained. It’s not much but it should keep you warm.”

  “That’s so kind.” She took it and draped it over her shoulders. “Won’t you be cold now?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

  Upon finishing their brief meal, they headed north. Ham and Noah discussed details about the ark’s ventilation system. Shem and Ar’yel followed them as she peppered him with sincere questions about the Creator and their beliefs. By midafternoon they reached a field filled with long grasses.

  Noah scanned the large meadow and froze when he spotted something far in the distance above the trees. A huge smile spread on his face. “There it is!”

  The others stopped and looked where he pointed. “There what is?” Shem asked.

  Ham spun and faced his brother, his eyes full of excitement. “The ark!”

  Shem squinted for a moment and then laughed. “We’re almost home.”

  “What’s an ark?” Ar’yel asked.

  “You’ll see soon enough.” Shem gestured for her to start walking. “Let’s go. We should be able to make it before it gets dark.”

  A pair of birds shot out of the tall grass to their right, causing Noah to jump a little, much to the delight of his sons.

  “Father is scared of two birds.” Ham snickered.

  Shem elbowed him. “And they were little birds.”

  Slightly embarrassed, Noah shook his head, trying to think of something witty to say.

  Suddenly, the tall grass to their right parted as a furry creature leapt through the air toward them. Ham instinctively raised his right arm to protect his face as the animal slammed into him. He cried out and tumbled to the ground, the beast rolling over him to land just beyond.

  Noah caught a glimpse of the powerful creature no bigger than a large bleater and recognized it as a pithoct, the two large fangs extending from its upper jaw making it easy to identify. In a heartbeat, the creature spun around and lunged for Ham again.