Noah

by Tim Chaffey

  Five activity-filled days had flown by. Extravagant in their joy, the Zakari had thrown a huge celebration on the night of the rescuers’ triumphant return. In the following days, Noah and Aterre helped the villagers rebuild much of their barn — only the roof needed to be finished.

  Mehul stepped forward, touched his forehead, and bowed slightly. “We’re sad to see you leave so soon. You’re always welcome here.”

  Varelk pulled Noah into a strong embrace. “May the Creator bless your journey.” He had only just let go when Elam ran forward and wrapped his skinny arms around Noah’s waist. “I’ll miss you.” The thick dressing around his upper arm hid the gruesome wound that looked nothing like the original mark. At his son’s insistence, Parel had made the heart-wrenching decision to obscure the vile symbol by burning a large circle the size of a fist over it. Chewing bark from a wispy tree helped Elam cope with the pain.

  Noah bent low. Carefully avoiding the bandaged area, he squeezed the boy who had followed him around for much of the last week. “I’ll miss you too. You’ve got a lot of inner strength. Use it to serve the Most High.”

  Aterre mussed Elam’s hair in farewell.

  Pulling out a coiled object, Parel placed it in Noah’s hand. “To show our gratitude.”

  Noah saw the distinct spheres of piks and pikkas laced on a cord and twisted into a loop. He shook his head and extended his palm. “No, this isn’t necessary.”

  Parel held his arms out. “It’s a gift for you and Aterre from all of us.” Parel looked at his son, who now clung to Aterre. “It’s the least we could do.”

  While his heart was ready to get back to the adventure that awaited them, Noah was sad to leave the Zakari, who had become like family in the short time they’d been together. He said nothing more, only embraced Parel again and held up a hand to the gathered villagers before turning away.

  Their farewells said, Noah and Aterre set out at a brisk pace. The road to the tiny river town was far better maintained than the one that had brought them into Zakar. Wide enough for two pack animals pulling a wagon, the road accommodated the Zakari’s supply runs to Novanam, which, according to Parel, consisted of nothing more than a few dwellings on the Hiddekel.

  Noah secured the gift into one of their bags in the cart before rejoining Aterre next to Taht. He patted the animal’s neck. “Just a short walk and then you get to ride on a boat again.”

  “I’m sure she’ll love that,” Aterre said.

  Noah chuckled. “It took me a whole day to get my — what was the term Deks used? Sea legs? Maybe she’ll get hers on this trip.”

  As he shifted his focus to the journey ahead, energy rushed through Noah’s body, and he whistled a playful tune that matched the bounce in his steps. He felt ready to take on the world.

  Throughout the early hours, scores of colorful birds and small reptiles made appearances along the way. But as the morning’s coolness dissipated, a thick humidity blanketed the trail, bringing with it swarms of pesky insects to vex Noah’s head and neck. By the time the sun had reached its zenith, his springy stride had flattened into a trudge. Noah found his mind wandering to home, thinking longingly of the cool breezes that played through the malid orchard, keeping heat and bugs alike at bay.

  He perked up briefly when, at one point, a massive furry creature that was nearly twice Noah’s height loped across the trail. Watching it walk on its hind legs and the knuckles of his front limbs, he almost laughed in spite of his discomfort. Taht stopped and tensed up, but the brown and white creature paid them no heed. It lumbered into the forest, snapping branches and twigs in its wake.

  The excitement of the odd sighting faded quickly. Wiping his forehead clear of sweat with one hand and swatting another pest away with the other, Noah winced as the wound on his chest throbbed. He drew aside part of his garment to inspect it. The salve from the Zakari seemed to have sped the healing, but it didn’t end the occasional ache or the persistent itch every time something rubbed across it. Focused on the injury, Noah stepped in a small rut and his ankle twisted, sending a sharp pain up his leg. “Ouch!”

  “You alright?” Aterre asked.

  Noah limped the next few steps as the soreness subsided a little. “I’ll be fine.” Truth be told, gone was the happy-go-lucky attitude of the morning. Instead, irritation mounted as discomfort and annoyance crowded his senses with relentless pursuit. He swatted at another insect. “Get off me!”

  Aterre chuckled. “Settle down.”

  “These bugs are so annoying.” Noah shook his head and wiped both arms in succession.

  “Just ignore them.”

  “That’s easier said than done. They aren’t going after you.” Noah tapped the side of the cart. “Let me ride for a while.”

  Aterre looked up from where he sat squeezed among their belongings. “We just switched spots a little while ago.”

  “My foot hurts.”

  “And you don’t think my feet hurt? We’ve been on the go for weeks.”

  Noah scowled at him. “But I’ve been walking while you keep riding.”

  Aterre laughed. “What’s gotten into you? I’ve walked just as much.”

  “You wish.” Noah drew his garment back to reveal his wound. “I’m the one that risked my life to save those children.”

  “What’s your problem?” Aterre pierced Noah with a gaze and jumped out onto the trail with his fists clenched. “I was right there, fighting with you.”

  Noah crossed his arms. “You mostly just let that mouth of yours run.” Noah knew he wasn’t making sense, but that just fueled his anger, his need to win.

  “That’s ridiculous. But if you need it, take the back of the cart.” Aterre pointed and emphasized his words to leave no doubt that he thought Noah was being childish.

  Noah tugged on Taht’s lead rope. No way was he going to look weak. “Forget it. I’m good. Let’s just get to Novanam so we don’t miss the boat to Iri Geshem.”

  Time seemed to drag on Noah’s thoughts, which eventually drifted back to his family. Loneliness filled him. What he would give to see them again. Like a cool breeze brushing against his skin, his father’s final charge nudged at his mind, dampening the heat of his ire. Don’t forget your promise to follow the Creator.

  He looked back at Aterre, who walked in silence behind the cart. Noah shook his head. My actions aren’t honoring the Most High.

  Noah stopped the cart. “Aterre.”

  His friend ignored him and kept walking.

  Noah put his hand on Aterre’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about that back there. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “And what? I’m just supposed to forget about the things you said?”

  “I don’t expect you to forget them, but I do ask that you forgive me.”

  Aterre stared at the ground for a few moments. “I guess I do owe your family one. Don’t worry about it.” Aterre smirked. “You’re just lucky I didn’t beat you up.”

  Noah shook his head but smiled. “I appreciate that.”

  Chapter 15

  Iri Gesham — Noah’s 40th year

  I’ve never seen anything like it.” Noah stood on his toes at the bow of the boat and leaned as far out as he could over the water. Reflected early-afternoon sunlight danced across the rippling surface that stretched to the horizon. Squinting, he looked past the water directly beneath him, beyond the riverside buildings of Iri Geshem on either side of the Hiddekel, and into the glistening expanse of sea before them. “It’s spectacular.”

  Aterre put an arm around Noah’s shoulder. “I knew you’d like it. Here we are at last.”

  After their adventure with the Zakari, the past two weeks on the Hiddekel had been tame to the point of boredom. Now, as they finally reached their destination, Noah yearned to get off the boat.

  He pulled his gaze away from the Great Sea and focused on the ivory-colored buildings immediately ahead to their right. Numerous one-story structures lined the river. “Are those made out of stone?” he asked
Farna, the vessel’s captain.

  “No, they’re mud-brick,” he said as he joined them at the bow. “They usually have wooden frames with the bricks placed around them.”

  “Look how many there are. This is so much bigger than Iri Sana.”

  Ahead, a dock built parallel to the river stretched along the shore. Farna’s men slowly guided the boat alongside the wharf, while their captain tossed the mooring to a man on the shore, who quickly secured the line to one of the several tall posts jutting out from the water and evenly dividing the dock. A handful of men joined Farna’s crew in unloading the ship.

  Noah strode to Taht and stroked her mane, feeling her muscles slightly relax at his reassuring touch. “You made it, girl.” He double-checked the cart to be sure their belongings were fastened inside and then hitched it to her.

  “Noah, Aterre.” Farna waved them over to him. He was a firm and demanding man when needed, yet fair and approachable. Noah admired the way he carried himself, and how he earned the respect of those around him.

  Slowly and steadily, Noah guided Taht across the ship’s deck.

  Farna reached into a pouch and handed each man three copper pikkas. “You’ve earned some of your payment back through all of your help.”

  Noah smiled. “Thank you, sir. We appreciate all that you’ve taught us.”

  “You and Aterre are always welcome on my boat. Just don’t bring that animal with you again.” Farna chuckled.

  Noah snorted. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He pointed to the lane that led away from the dock and divided two rows of houses. “So we take this road until Sarie’s Bakery and then turn left, and that’ll take us all the way to Ara’s shipyard?”

  Farna nodded. “It will. Really, as long as you head to the coast, you’ll find Ara. Since he’s the one who builds all the boats, you can’t miss it.”

  “Peace to you,” Aterre said.

  “I hope to see you at Ara’s sometime,” Noah said.

  “Until next time then.” Farna raised a hand, his attention already on the unloading process going on near the stern.

  Noah carefully led Taht onto the dock and had to restrain her as she tried to hurry to the shore. “Easy. We’ll be there soon enough.” As soon as they stepped onto dry ground, she stamped her feet several times before snorting and shaking her head. She was finally at ease.

  With all their belongings in tow, Noah and Aterre strode into town. Passersby greeted them with a nod or a smile. A group of young children played in the space between two of the buildings. An older woman stood on the roof of a one-story home, hanging clothes on a line tied to posts. A stone staircase ascended the side of the house.

  “Farna wasn’t kidding about this place,” Aterre said. “They really are friendly. Not at all like Birtzun.”

  “I love it already. Look at all this.” Noah gestured to one side and then the other. “At all this life.”

  Aterre shrugged. “I would’ve been happy to stay at the farm.”

  A stunning young woman, perhaps a bit older than they were, turned the corner. She smiled at them before ducking into a nearby house.

  Aterre grinned at Noah. “On second thought, I could get used to this place.”

  Noah rolled his eyes and shook his head. As he tried to think of a clever response, the unmistakable scent of fresh-baked bread floated into his nostrils. He breathed it in deeply. “That must be the bakery.” Ahead and to their left stood a two-story building. Faint smoke floated away from a nearby rooftop. A wooden sign over the door announced that it was indeed Sarie’s Bakery.

  They turned left before the shop, and from the top of the hill spied Ara’s shipyard. At the end of the road, up against the shore of the inlet, the wooden frame of a boat rose a little higher than the mud-brick building not too far from it.

  Noah tugged Taht’s lead as he quickened his own pace. “Come on.”

  Aterre matched his stride. “Have you thought about what you’re going to say?”

  “To Ara?” Noah shrugged. “I haven’t rehearsed anything. I figured it’d be better to just be natural.”

  “That’s probably best.” Aterre pushed him playfully. “Don’t mess it up.”

  The closer they came to the shipyard, the larger the dwellings were, at least on the right side of the road. Spaced far apart, the two-story homes stood in yards adorned with a variety of trees and bushes. The district to the left was filled with small older homes; some wood and others mud-brick.

  After crossing a wide dirt road, they stood at the gated entrance to the shipyard. Working on the boat frame, three men set a beam into place and fastened it with hammers and pegs, while another man cut a log with a saw. A hint of the sweet scent of sawdust amid the salty aroma from the water beyond, amplified Noah’s senses. He took a deep breath and looked uncertainly at Aterre. “Time to find out if the journey was worth it.”

  “And if it doesn’t work out,” Aterre said, “remember, we helped save some lives.”

  “And had some adventures.”

  Once inside the gate, Aterre shut it behind them and Noah secured Taht’s rein to a post near the building. “Think the wagon will be safe here?”

  Aterre shrugged. “Farna said we shouldn’t have to worry about thieves. The people still follow the Creator here.”

  Noah ascended the two small stone steps and stood before the front door. He knocked and waited.

  “Can I help you?”

  Turning in the direction of the gruff voice, Noah saw one of the men who had just been swinging a hammer striding toward them. He appeared to be in his third century, and black curls peeked out from under a snug covering on his head. Dark eyes complemented his sun-browned complexion, and his muscular build would probably intimidate most people.

  “Yes, sir.” Noah stepped down to the ground. “We’re looking for Ara. Have we reached the correct place?”

  The man’s broad smile belied his husky voice. “Indeed you have.” He stopped before them and bowed slightly. “I’m Ara. And you are?”

  Noah gestured to his friend. “This is Aterre, and I’m Noah. We’ve come all the way from Iri Sana to meet you.”

  Ara bit his lip and furrowed his brow. “Iri Sana? That’s beyond the rapids, right?”

  Noah nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  He laughed. “Please, call me Ara. You say you came all this way to meet me? Do you seek to buy a boat?”

  “Not exactly.” Noah untied the band from his upper arm and handed it to Ara. “My grandfather is your cousin Methuselah.”

  Ara’s eyes lit with recognition. He stepped past Noah and opened the door. “Please, come inside.” He nodded toward Taht and the cart. “Your things will be safe there.”

  Noah and Aterre followed Ara into the building. Wooden furniture and shelves filled with trinkets, instruments, and tools nearly obscured the walls. A breeze carried the scents of the yard in through the small window in the front, which also afforded Noah a view of the back end of their wagon.

  Ara moved behind a counter and withdrew a tall stool. “Here.” He handed it to Aterre and then retrieved one for Noah before sitting down. He looked across the counter at them. “So you’re Methuselah’s grandson? How is my cousin? I haven’t seen him in about half a century. He visited here not long after his father, my Uncle Enoch —” He looked away and tapped his front teeth with his fingernail a few times. “After his disappearance.”

  Noah could see the man was uncomfortable talking about what happened to Enoch, so he determined not to mention it. “My grandfather’s doing well. He has 12 children and lives about a day’s journey from us. My father, Lamech, is his third-born son.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Ara sat up straight and examined the armband as he slowly twirled it in his hand. “So how can I help you?”

  Noah glanced back once more at their cart and swallowed the lump in his throat. “My father raised me to be a farmer, and even though I didn’t mind it, the only work I truly enjoyed was found in my woodshop. I love bu
ilding things, but there weren’t any carpenters in our area that needed an apprentice. So my grandfather recommended that I travel here to work for you.” Noah pointed to the band. “He sent that along as his pledge to you that he believes I can do the job.”

  Ara set the armband down and held Noah’s gaze. “You wish to be my apprentice?”

  “It would be an honor, sir.”

  Someone passed in front of the window, and Ara looked toward the door. “Excuse me for a moment.” He bent down and pulled out a tightly wound scroll with a string tied around it. He walked around the counter, and as he crossed the room, the door opened.

  Noah turned to see who had entered, but Ara’s frame blocked his view.

  “Hey, Emz.” Ara handed the scroll to the person. “Please take this to Zain before heading home today.”

  “Of course, Baba.”

  At the sound of a female’s voice, Noah craned his neck to see this “Emz.” As she hugged Ara, her hands, forearms, and dark ponytail came into view, but nothing more.

  He let go of her. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Sounds good.” The door opened again. “I love you, Baba.”

  “Love you too, Emz.” As the door shut behind him, Ara returned to his place behind the counter. “That’s my daughter, Emzara.” He playfully hit himself on the forehead. “I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced her. That’s alright. I think there will be time for that. Do you have plans for evenfeast tonight?”

  “No, sir.” Aterre said.

  Noah shook his head.

  “Great. I’d like you both to join us for the meal. We’ll eat shortly before sundown.” Ara pointed to his left. “Just follow this main road along the shore until it turns right to go up the hill and back into town. Instead of going up the hill, stay straight on a wide path that leads right to my house. Oh, and if you don’t have a place to stay, you’re more than welcome to stay with me.”

  “That’s very kind of you. We’d be happy to join you,” Noah said.

  “Yes, thank you.”