Ark(58)

They teemed and boiled in the open space before the ark, but no animal disturbed another, though there was much snapping and jostling for space. Lions paced beside gazelles, teeth bared and snarling in staccato bursts. The throng crowded and moved and shifted, and those animals nearest the ramp hopped and leaped and stalked onto it, two by two, a male and a female, and as soon as there was room, the next pair of animals ascended the ramp.

There was no shepherd, no one guiding them. Noah was standing near the ramp but well away; watching with as much awe as I. Beside him, Zara clung to his waist, hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Shem and his wife Sedele, and Ham and his wife Ne’eletama were nearby as well, all watching the parade of life as it marched onto the ark.

I had an errant thought: neither Shem and Sedele nor Ham and Ne’eletama had children, yet it was clear both couples had been married for several years; a curiosity, one for which I had no answer.

Japheth was missing, and I cast my glance around the clearing, searching for him.

I saw him, after a moment, crouched in the narrow space beneath the belly of the boat, between the framework and the vessel it supported. He caught my eye, and gestured to me. I went to him, crouching near him; from this angle, the ramp blocked Noah’s view of us.

“Hide here,” Japheth told me. “When the animals have all boarded, my father and the others will join them. After the last animal has gone aboard the ark, make your way on after them. Hide in the lowest level. There is a space I have found, where the cages and stalls have left a gap near the prow of the boat. There is a space large enough for you. I have left food and water and a robe. You will be safe there.”

I stared at him. “Sneak aboard?” I shook my head. “I will not hide in the belly of this boat like a rat in the corner of a storeroom, Japheth.”

“It is the only way,” he insisted. “My father would not even discuss it with me. I have prayed without ceasing and have had no answer. I offered a bullock to El, and prayed for you to be spared, and received only silence.”

“Perhaps the silence is your god’s answer,” I whispered, my voice shaky.

He grabbed my arms and shook me. “I will not let you die, Aresia. Not like this.” He cast his eyes heavenward. “If that is His answer, then perhaps He is not my God.”

I cupped his cheek. “He is your God, Japheth. Do not cast aside your belief for me.” I shook my head. “I will not hide.”

“Please, Aresia.” He moved out of the space and knelt before me. “Please. You have to. It is the only way.”

I stepped away. “No, Japheth. I will not hide.”

He visibly held back tears. “I will wait. I will wait until the door is sealed, and when it is, I will go to the lowest level and seek you out. Please, Aresia. Don’t throw your life away.”

I sat down on the felled tree that served as the support base of the ark’s framework. “Go, Japheth. Do not wait. Just go. Be with your family. Be . . . be with Neses. She loves you, and you know that. She will make a good wife.”

He backed away, shaking his head, anger clouding his expression. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but found no words. His jaw snapped closed, and he whirled on a heel and marched away, anger in the hard lines of his posture.

I watched him walk away, and when he was gone I collapsed. Tears dripped down my chin as I watched him depart. I wanted to go with him, to cling to him, to tell him I loved him. But yet I knew if Noah discovered Japheth had snuck me aboard, irreparable damage would be done to their still-fragile relationship. Noah had always been clear about the numbers of humans who could go on this journey, and that number had never included me.

So, with tears in my eyes, I watched the animals climb aboard the ark, two by two, from the largest prowling lions and swaying, grumbling bears to the tiniest rabbits and pink-tailed mice. Insects whirred and hopped, wings coruscating in the intermittent flashes of lightning. Two by two, and two by two. For hours, it continued. Behind me, the ark vibrated with noise, echoing with hoof clops and animal snarls.

Lightning streaked across the sky in a million blinding flashes, and thunder rolled incessantly, and beneath me the earth shook like a pebble in a child’s cupped hands. Rain still dribbled intermittently, splats and splatters here and there, as if the sky was pregnant with rain, a woman nearing her time, labor pains lancing nonstop, the babe crowning, but the moment of birth not yet come.

Tension crackled. I felt it, felt my hairs standing on end, all along my arms and the back of my neck. Vibrations quaked under the soles of my feet, rumblings shivering in my belly. I looked up, and the sky was a seething black whirlpool, laced with lightning like cracks in the fabric of the sky.

I watched, and I watched, and finally, the last pair of creatures waddled aboard the ark, a giant fat pink sow and a hairy thick-tusked boar, their beady eyes glinting and their snorts coming quick and nervous.

Shem, Ham, Japheth, Zara, Neses, Sedele, and Ne’eletama were all aboard the ark long since. Only Noah and I remained outside.

Noah strode out into the meadow just beyond the ramp, now churned into mud. He stopped a dozen paces from the ramp, raised his arms to the sky, head tipped back, long silvering black hair blown horizontal in the raging wind, his beard flattened against his side and trailing under one arm. A bolt of lightning sizzled down from the heavens, striking the mud at Noah’s feet. Another bolt struck behind him, and again to his left, and then his right.