Ark(41)

“That’s what Japheth said.” I felt drowsy suddenly, exhausted. “I hope my presence doesn’t cause trouble for your family. Japheth . . . I care about him, very much.”

Zara nodded. “I can see that, and he cares about you as well. Don’t worry yourself, child. Rest. Things will work out, you shall see.”

Before my eyes slid closed, I saw Zara pat the other woman on the shoulder, the same woman to whom she’d glanced earlier. This woman was young, and pretty enough in a plain sort of way, with long, straight brown hair and wide brown eyes. She seemed sad somehow, resigned. I was falling asleep, but a thought niggled at me, keeping me awake for another few minutes.

There was something that didn’t make sense, but I couldn’t place what it was. I forced my eyes to stay open, looking around the room. Both of Japheth’s brothers were in the living area now, along with Zara and the three women. One of them was working with Shem, the older brother, their motions together practiced and comfortable, the way she glanced at him loving, familiar; Shem’s wife then. The next woman was talking with the younger brother, Ham, and they too seemed close and comfortable, obviously married as well. That left Zara and the third woman. Zara was Noah’s wife . . . so who was the third woman?

Zara was speaking to her with familiarity, in close enough proximity to demonstrate comfort with each other. The girl was clearly not a maidservant, but she didn’t resemble any of the men, or Zara, so I didn’t place her as a sister.

I looked again at the three women, and I saw the resemblance then. The three women were all sisters. A wife for Shem, a wife for Ham . . .

The third woman, then, was . . . Japheth’s wife?

He was married?





10





Ark





“‘Make yourself an ark of gopher wood.’” Genesis 6:14 (ESV)





Japheth walked the length of the boat, running his hand along the smooth wood of the rib spars. It was clearly a boat, although the sheer size of it left Japheth dizzy. He’d seen other boats in various stages of construction, and the Euphrates River was constantly busy with ships transporting goods from city to city. There was no mistaking that this was a huge boat, but it didn’t look anything like the average vessel.

Never mind the mammoth size of it, Japheth simply couldn’t figure out the purpose of it. It was too long to be used in the Euphrates, that much was clear. It looked to be over four hundred feet long, which would cause it to catch on the curves of the river, even assuming there was any way to get it to the river in the first place—a two or three day journey under the best of circumstances.

“Amazing, is it not?” Noah’s voice, rumbled beside him.

“Yes, it’s . . . incredible. But . . . what is it?”

“It is a boat. An ark.”

“Well, yes, I see that it’s a boat, but . . . why?” Japheth turned to regard Noah, who stood next to him, tracing the wood grain with his palm.

“That, my son, is a long and complicated story best told another time.” Noah thumped the ark with his hand and strode away. “Walk with me, Japheth.”

They followed the length of the ark away from the house and crossed the plain toward the hills in the distance. Japheth sensed his father was preparing to speak, so he kept silent and waited.

“I will not apologize for my beliefs,” Noah said. “My life has ever been guided by the hand of Elohim, and I shall not waver in my devotion to Him.”

“I’m not asking you to apologize—”

“Be silent and listen,” Noah cut in. “The ark, it is my life’s work now. I began construction one year ago, alone. I had only Ham with me then, and he refused to help . . . he was even more blockheaded than you about Elohim, if you can believe that. I don’t expect you to understand, especially about the ark, but I have learned a few things in the past year. Namus, he doesn’t understand. The people of the village,” Noah waved a hand to the north, gesturing at the small village that lay a half-hour’s walk away, “they think I am mad, of course. They come to watch me work, and they mock and throw stones and rotten fruit. I have learned some measure of patience, which, as you may know, is not my strongest trait.”

Japheth was listening in stunned silence. Noah had begun this speech by saying he wouldn’t apologize, yet it sounded as if that was exactly what he was leading up to. Japheth nodded, but didn’t interrupt.

“Japheth, my son . . . what I’m trying to say is . . .” Noah trailed off, thinking, and then began again. “While I will not apologize for what I believe, I will apologize for how I believed, when you were young. I have often thought of trying to find you, but . . . I thought you might still be angry with me. I was so stubborn, then. Hardheaded and unbending. You’re the same, I know, and . . .”

Japheth waited, but Noah remained silent, watching thunderheads roll in from the hills, lightning flashing in the distance, rain sweeping the clouds into curved layers.

“I’m not sure what to say,” Japheth said, finally. “I have missed you, and mother, especially. I’ve wished I could come home a hundred times over the years, but the thought of facing you always stopped me. I was a fool, a hot-headed boy—”

“We were both fools. Let’s call it forgiven on both accounts and move on, shall we?” Noah flashed a sudden angry glare at Japheth. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you for bringing that Nephilim whore into my house.”