Four

  Tales within tales.

  Little Emzara leaves, with a hug for everybody, for she is an affectionate child with a sweet temerity. The fire is nearly out, and people drift off to their flower strewn shelters, until there are only us Old ones left. We sit for a while in comfortable silence watching the dying embers, drawing closer to its warmth. Then Noach too withdraws, he glances briefly in my direction, but I pretend not to notice, make no eye contact nor move from my place by the fire. I know the others are also guiltily grateful that he leaves because now we can talk freely about Cham, and other things that would only turn Noach’s face to a stony mask. Even if he had not withdrawn physically, he would have done so in spirit. I think he understands that had he stayed our tongues would’ve been curbed by his presence. He is a kind man. His discipline and commitment can be at times overwhelming, but he is a kind man.

  Do you remember? Echoes around the campfire.

  Do you remember when we drifted in the part of the watery world where it was so hot we longed to jump into the water and Elohiym sent down a light, refreshing shower?

  Do you remember when we saw that floating island of aquatic lianas?

  Do you remember the flying fish and the great pod of whales?

  Japheth recalls the night that the shutters to the small exterior deck under the sloping roof suddenly swung open as Yahuah guided our floating home to the very edges of the world. It was some time after the horror of the first forty days, at dusk, on a full moon, shabbat. We had cabin fever from being confined so long inside, and a turgid swell had the vessel rolling and lurching in such a way that Sedeqetele was green and bilious for days, sleeping in the horse stable to find some relief. Cham was pacing the communal living area in the same way as the caged tiger held captive a deck below. Noach sighing, frowning with concentration, as he measured out soothing anti-nausea potions to give some of the animals that were also suffering in the tedious calm.

  Adatane laughed out loud at the memory.

  The look on Cham’s face…

  Cham stopped in his tracks, eyes widening and mouth dropping open like a frog catching flies. Shem called out excitedly to Sedeqetele,

  Sede, Sede come quickly Jah has had pity on us! Oh merciful Adonai the deck is open, Oh good Yah. Come quickly Sede.

  The ark came to a gentle drift as though eased expertly by some seafaring captain to slide alongside an invisible jetty. Yet still all around us was only water and sky. The sun was setting, and a huge golden moon was already visible rising to the east. We were surrounded by turquoise sea, the rose gold of the last sun rays turning to purple and red as it disappeared on the western horizon, replaced by the cold light of the moon. Then we realised that all these luminaries were reflected in a wall to the south of us, a solid sparkling wall of clear white sapphire that rose above us into the sky seeming to arch like the domes on the Watchers citadel palaces, into the heavens, and beyond our sight.

  First Cham, then all of us, one by one reached out to touch the surface of the wall as the ark grazed by, coming to settle and stop by our unseen guide, our gracious Elohiym. The wall shimmered and rippled at our touch, as though behind it bubbled celestial seas. It felt cool and hard under our hands and filled us with a subtle wave of healing energy. We all felt ourselves being cleansed, renewed. We all felt its power. Laughing in wonder Na’elatama ran quickly inside to collect furs and blankets to wrap us in as the temperature had begun to drop rapidly. The sky turned a deep indigo, framing the huge golden moon and the stars were dazzling, close as never before, or since.

  And then Yahuah put on a display of his majesty and splendour. Ribbons and sashes of light appeared dancing in the sky, shifting between a luminous green and icy blue, then deepening into vivid pinks and purples. The light show from the very throne of heaven was also reflected and bounced off the crystalline wall, so that we lay down huddled together on the surface of the tiny deck in a dizzy ecstasy. Only Noach stood tall, his feet planted wide, and his arms raised to the sky. Then a light snow began to fall. We had never seen such a thing before, in our past life the climate was consistently temperate, warm and easy. Snowflakes coated the roof, and we were quickly wet-through as they melted. Noach ushered us back inside despite Chams protests.

  That was the edge of the firmament the boundary of earth and the pillars of heaven. Enoch called those lights, ‘orot hadrom’ announced Noach.

  ‘Ha’orot hadromi’im shel hader kes hamalkot shel elohiym’

  The southern lights of God’s throne room.

  I have visited the land before when I travelled to the ends of the earth to seek the advice of Enoch before the flood. The throne room of our God is near, He takes care of us, and He has not forgotten us.

  He led us in an evening prayer,

  Jehovah Rapha, the Lord who heals

  We entrust our spirits into your hands

  Let not our thoughts or dreams disturb us

  Let the healing that you have encoded into our bodies go about their work

  May we awaken refreshed and rise up in peace to face a new tomorrow.

  Now a hundred years later we can all vividly remember that night. Adatane our songbird starts to sing the song she sang that night as we lay down to the deepest, most blessed sleep we had had since we entered the vessel.

  I will remember the works of Yah

  I will remember your wonders

  I will meditate on your works and

  Talk of your doings

  Who is so great an El

  As our Elohiym?

  Your way is in the sea, your path in the great waters

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  Your footsteps are not known

  Your loving kindness is better than life

  I will bless you while I live

  I will lift my hands in your name.

  Only two months prior to the flood Adatane and her sisters had been maidens, living sheltered but privileged lives in a busy city. They had lost everything, their family, home, pets, and friends. They had been joined in marriage to men of another generation, whose father was the strange albino prophet who for the past one hundred and twenty years had foretold what was to come with the flood and been ridiculed by all. They had some sense no doubt of their destiny, adventurous, brave spirits, carriers of the seed of humanity into the new world. Had Elohiym planted in their bellies the intuition to step into the unknown? Or were they just so young life had not yet revealed its ugly, difficult side, and they had but the na?ve courage of the foolish and the ignorant?

  Then our memories and conversation became more prosaic, and we found ourselves laughing at the foibles and tempers of a small group of virtual strangers cloistered together with a menagerie of domestic and exotic animals to care for. We had to monitor our water usage, towards the end of that year, rationing our bathing water, allotted a certain amount each day to drink. We were subsisting on dried grains, fruits and pulses, dried fish; how we longed for fresh food, fresh fruit and vegetables. Surprisingly it was Noach who cooked the tastiest meals. He had a way with herbs and spices.

  Cham would make jokes about feasting on the lambs that had been set aside for the first sacrifice when we reached dry land. Noach was not inclined to encourage Cham’s humour, nor his unabashed flatulence. Na’elatama would send Cham off to join the gaseous calves, feigning disgust, even though she was the most gifted with caring for the animals and not at all squeamish in dealing with the daily cleaning of pens, stalls and cages. We were kept very busy caring for the animals, but Noach as calendar keeper, scribe and historian kept track of Shabbat and insisted we honour the day of rest. That was always the hardest day for Cham. He always looked like he was brooding with pent up energy, and he would ask of Noach the hard questions that often ended with them verbally clashing, and with someone in tears.

  One day when we were moving through still seas in tropical temperatures, again we had never experienced such heat, that had us all lying down, fanning ourselves, but still dripping with sweat, he voiced the questions we all held in our hearts.

  Were all corrupted? Did all have to die? Elyaqiym and his wives were they not remorseful?

  Surely there were some good people?

  I will never forget their cries.

  Nor I.

  Noachs reply was quiet but steady, but he could be heard above the soft tears of Sedeqetele,

  They were given one hundred and twenty years to change their ways. We are all God’s creation. He decides when we live and when we die. They persisted in sacrificing their firstborn to those foul gods, the Baals, they persisted in their orgiastic temple rites filled with eunuchs who pretended to be women and temple whores who were as brazen as the lowest foot soldier or bawdy sailor.

  His voice grew louder as he gained momentum.

  They persisted in dabbling in evil pharmakeia and sorceries to stop themselves conceiving, to kill infants in their wombs; to make themselves into faster, younger, stronger adepts of the petty demon gods they fawned over and idolised, in exchange for their temporal power, so they could oppress the vulnerable: widows, orphans and the poor. They were all addicted to power, more riches than they could possibly enjoy and heartless fornication. They bred vile, soulless chimera that became physical hosts for the unclean, evil spirits of the slain Nephilim. They tampered with Gods code for humankind. The streets ran with the blood of the violent warmongers who never ceased their rampaging hate despite the destruction of the Nephilim and the removal of the Fallen Ones. They raped women and children. They desecrated Elohyims creation. They defiled themselves. They chose to sin. They were no longer fully human.

  His last statement echoed in the stunned silence. He was interrupted by Cham,

  Father we heard the word the angel of the Lord spoke to you: that All were corrupted, save you? Does that mean that we too are all encoded with evil? Do we carry the evil seed?

  The thought had haunted me too. Elyaqiym may not have been living in the ways of Yahuah but he was not a bad man, as men went. Like my father Lemech, Elyaqiym inclined towards greed and excess, lusty and sensual but also generous, hospitable and so funny, he could make you laugh until your sides hurt. And his wives and concubines, who enjoyed his protection and his wealth, the easy life no doubt, were not corrupted, power-hungry leaders or sly, deceitful priests of false gods. In the pause before Noach answered, all our thoughts turned to those last days of the interminable rain. When we were locked in the ark. Listening.

  We heard the animals gather shuffling around the ark to form a wall of bared teeth and sharp claws, growling and snarling to keep at bay the thousands of people who came up the hillside from the main cities, towns and villages below. Our kin: our siblings, nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles. The animals would not allow anyone near the vessel, as we heard from the screams from individuals, who found out when they tried. They had never seen animals behave in this way. The people were saturated by the pelting rain and rising floodwaters, exhausted, and desperate. We heard Elyaqiym calling to us from a distance, out of reach of the prowling lions, tigers and other wild animals.

  Open for us my brother’s son. Open for us, your own family, at least, that we may come to you in the ark, or we shall surely die. The rains have filled the valleys and covered the tallest buildings. Many of your kin have perished in rushing waters, drowned or killed by floating debris, or been trapped on rooves and then been swept away as the torrents rose. Have pity on us, the waters are rising, up this very hill, we can only go a little higher beyond your vessel and then the mountain is impassable. Have a heart my brother’s son.

  Noachs voice was grim but strong in reply,

  You have rebelled against Yahuah, sneering in your disdain. You have said that He does not exist. You have dabbled with unclean spirits and witchcraft. I have spoken to you of this coming deluge, for one hundred and twenty years. You would not listen to either Methuselach or I. You scoffed and laughed when we tried to warn you. The time for repentance has passed Elyaqiym. It is too late.

  Elyaqiym’s voice was beginning to whine with panic,

  We are ready to return to Yahuah now. We are sorry for our blindness and arrogance. Please open and save us. Please. Please. Please I beg of you.

  But Noach was not deterred,

  Ah so now the eyes of your souls are awake to truth, you see the troubles of your souls clearly, but Yahuah has appointed times for all things, and the time for you to be saved is done.

  We then heard Elaqiym and a group of men rushing the ark in fury, screaming abuse, curses and insults. Then more horrific screams as some people were torn apart by the wild, animal sentries that guarded the ark. It went on for what seemed like hours, intermittent begging, screaming, curses followed by hopeless sobbing, wailing and a chorus of women ululating in grief until their voices were hoarse and culminated in an eerie silence. Many of the crowds appeared to leave and keep climbing the mountain to stay ahead of the rising water. The cries became less frequent. Some people survived for a while holding onto floating objects, furniture, or tree branches perhaps, until they too let go out of weariness, weak with hunger or the realization that they were alone on a vast endless sea. The last person finally gave up the fight and allowed themselves to succumb to the relentless surging waters, to sink to the bottom of the worldwide watery grave.

  In the ark we bowed our heads in silent sorrow and shock. Na’elatama’s face streaked with tears as she and her sisters held each other, the men busying themselves with tasks about the vessel. At last Noach spoke to us as we shared a silent meal of flat bread and cheese that stuck in our throats like dry sand.

  Eat, you must eat. He urged gently, and then,

  Had I opened up, they would’ve rushed the ark. There would not have been enough food for us all to survive. We would’ve all died. Besides I could not. I could not. The door is open and shut by an angel of the Lord.

  As for what we carry in our blood Cham; that is determined by our choices. We have been honoured by Yahuah to carry forward the seed of humanity. Praise Yah. His ways are above our ways, but He is a loving and merciful God. Trust in Him. He is the living El. When we follow his ways, we are safe in His sheltering wings, when we don’t …

  He trailed off.

  We will take another seven days to mourn our loved ones.

  Wife, would you regale us with a fitting story?

  So, I did, and we never spoke of the forty days of hell again.