To the Rescue
© Jeannie St. John Taylor
“Noah was a righteous man, blameless in his generation. Noah walked with God. And Noah had three sons, Shem, Ham, and Japheth.” Gen. 6: 9, 10
Shem and his younger brother Ham tramped along the footpath that wound away from the ark through numerous switch-backs, around thick tree trunks and down the mountain. Vertical rock rose to their backs. In front of them, when trees bordering the trail thinned and opened the view, Shem caught glimpses of the broad valley below spread with meadows of brilliantly colored wildflowers and rectangular fields of corn, barley and sugar cane. Vineyards and fruit orchards swelled over the foothills reaching up toward the walled City of a Thousand Gods, their destination.
The city perched atop the red granite cliffs of the mountain facing them. Numerous small dark spots, an indication of shallow caves, peppered the face of the cliffs below the city. Some appeared almost rectangular -- as though hacked out by human hands. He counted more than a dozen waterfalls trickling over the precipice, white thread tumbling down gleaming rocks polished smooth by years of falling water. One especially large waterfall seemed to burst from the base of the city itself. Those falls, as well as the flat slippery precipices on every side, prevented unwanted visitors from entering. The city stood unassailable.
Their father said giants had attacked long ago. Though many people lost their lives in the battle, residents fighting from the walls and windows of the only gate into the city managed to keep the huge creatures at bay. After a few weeks the giants consumed all the crops in the valley and left.
Though the city could not be breached, earthquakes and the violence of its own residents had weakened the city of late.
Because Father grew up within its walls and several of his friends from childhood still lived there, Father loved the city and its people. Two weeks earlier, convinced that the increased incidence of earthquakes and wind storms signaled the immanence of the approaching Flood, Father had disappeared inside the gates. He intended to plead with the residents one final time, hoping to convince former friends that he’d prepared enough space on the ark for them. All who chose, could demonstrate a belief in God by coming aboard. But he hadn’t returned home, and Shem worried he might have been injured in a quake. Or worse.
Despite Father’s strict rule that his sons never under any circumstances come to his aid if he disappeared, Noah’s sons marched on a rescue mission today. The trees thinned again and Shem shielded his eyes against the glaring sunlight reflecting off the granite. They still had a long distance to hike.
He pushed back his worries and inhaled the earthy odors of rotting wood and damp rock carried on the breeze from the cool woods. A squirrel skittered across the path in front of him. He always enjoyed this part of the journey where the downhill slope allowed him to relax a little.
“We’re gonna have to pick up the pace if you plan to get there before the gates close,” his brother shouted from a short distance behind. “Want me to lead?”
“No need to shout.” Shem measured his tone. “I can hear you.”
“Guess you’re planning on a good soaking again.” Laughter played just below the surface of Ham’s voice, but Shem rarely found him humorous.
True. They often postponed trips until too late in the day and hit the valley floor right as mist floated up from the ground. Today Shem had delayed the trip because he knew Father would be upset if they came. So when Ham badgered him, Shem ignored his sibling.
He glanced over his shoulder to level Ham with a glare. “You should have stayed home. Mother needs you. I don’t.” He didn’t intend to budge a finger-breadth to appease his brother today.
“Trying to cheat me out of excitement?” Ham asked, waggling his eyebrows and ears at his brother. Was Ham being sarcastic or did he really think this would be an exciting venture? Why did Ham always respond to difficult situations by making a joke of things?
A large boulder and several fallen trees blocked the path ahead. Shem looked up to study the spot where the rock had sheered off the mountain. “That last quake changed the face of the mountain. If they keep getting worse, one could knock the ark off its frame.”
“Oh, no!” Ham said in mock dismay. He bent to scoop up a handful of loose stones. “Whatever would we do then?”
The two men threaded their way around the boulder with Ham now in the lead. He tossed stones against trees. Always playing games.
“You don’t think a quake could actually damage our ark, do you?” Ham laughed. “Every plank in the thing is as thick as my leg.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Not much. A quake might dislodge the supports and plunk a lot of gopher wood to the ground, but nothing else would happen to it. Except Father would probably make us try to hoist it back up.”
Shem smiled despite himself. “You’re right.” The path widened and leveled out. They loped along side by side. Running on the flat was easier on his legs than walking downhill.
“You know how the ark is kind of rounded on the top and bottom?” asked Ham, his eyes dancing. “If an earthquake knocked it off its struts maybe it would start rolling down our mountain, pick up enough speed to cross the meadow and start up toward the city. Can’t you just see the people watching that huge thing coming at them?” Ham made a rolling motion with his arms that got faster and faster until he banged his hands together. “That would put a nice little dent in the temple of Gug , wouldn’t it? And they think they don’t like the ark because it’s ugly.”
Both men laughed hard, the sort of hysterical laughter that accompanies tension. “You don’t think rolling across the meadow and climbing the hills to the city would slow it down?” asked Shem.
“All that mass? It might roll right over the top of the city, down the other side, flatten all the grain fields and splash out to sea.”
“That might actually give it a chance to do what we built it for.” Thoughts of the Flood sobered Shem. “Think it’s too heavy to float?”
The two men walked in silence for a while before Ham voiced Shem’s thoughts. “Maybe Father is crazy like they say.” Shem preferred Ham’s joking to his despondency. “Do you believe all the stuff Father says? Do you really think we’re going to escape some colossal Flood by floating away in the ark?”
Why would Ham choose this particular time to start voicing thoughts neither had ever spoken? Shem didn’t want to say anything disrespectful about his father. He didn’t want to admit he often had the same doubts. Not now. Not with Father missing. “God told him to build the ark; I believe that.”
“Oh, come on,” Ham snorted. “How logical is that? Has God ever talked to you?”
Just off the trail ahead a movement of tawny fur caught Shem’s eye, sparing him the necessity of answering his brother. Shem crouched and pointed to a pair of large cats under a tree just off the trail. “Shhh!”
Ham’s eyes widened and he dropped to the ground beside his brother. “Those are lions, aren’t they?” he whispered.
“I think so. What do you suppose they’re doing here?” Father’s prediction about animals coming to the ark flashed through Shem’s mind. “You don’t think . . . ?’
“Nah.” Ham’s denial came a little too quickly.
Shem tried to remember what he knew about controlling cats. Not much. Mother sometimes tossed water on the house cats to shoo them off the table. Wouldn’t work here. No water. Bigger cats.
After several beats, Ham whispered. “I hope cats have bad vision.”
“Me, too.” Moving only his eyes, Shem looked sideways at his brother.
“I hope nothing eats us,” Ham said without smiling.
Shem’s sentiment exactly.
After a few minutes, the lions stood and meandered out of sight. Relieved and puzzled the two men resumed their journey carefully, peering into the woods by the trail, alert to possible dangers.
Up ahead a family of deer crowded close to the trail. Not a problem. Deer were common and harmless except when they browsed the crops Noah’s family grew in the fields surrounding the ark. Shem and Ham had stored an abundance of dried venison on the ark. Ham spoke to one nibbling bark off a tree. “Eat your fill, Sweetie. That’ll plump you up and make you nice and tasty if Father sends for more meat.”
“Also might weaken the tree and make it easier to fell.”
“Don’t need wood. The ark’s done and that tree isn’t gopher wood.”
“We still need wood for the fire pit. Gotta have heat for our mythical journey.”
The obvious criticism of Father bothered Shem. He shouldn’t disrespect his father by listening. He snapped at his brother. “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk any more.” The appearance of lions on the mountain had started him thinking.
“We lost a lot of time back there.” Ham resumed his slow run.
“Yep.” Shem ran with him.
“I saw a couple of ostriches up by the ark the other day.” Ham said.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“And the point would be . . . ? There are strange animals everywhere these days.”
“The quakes must be changing animal habitats.” A rabbit ran across the trail right in front of Shem, nearly tripping him.
“How long has Father been saying God was going to send animals to fill the ark?” Ham asked.
“As long as I can remember.”
“Me, too.” Ham parroted Father’s sometimes-preachy tone. “‘Two of every kind of animal on earth will show up just before we embark.’”
“Maybe all the strange-animal sightings prove Father right.” Shem couldn’t bear to think about the events about to take place if Father’s words were correct. The thoughts of all the people perishing made him literally sick to his stomach. If God was good, as Father claimed, why would he destroy humankind? And without a mate, how would Shem bear the loneliness for the rest of his life? “Kind of scary.”
“If the Flood is getting close, I’ll die without ever having sex. That’s what scares me to death.” Ham’s brow furrowed for a moment. Then he grinned and switched to mock concern. “I can think of one upside to the whole thing. We can leave the snakes behind when we float away.”
They came off the mountain and started on a footpath leading through the neck-high grasses growing over the valley floor. They avoided the easier trip through fields of crops and wildflowers, choosing instead to follow the more direct route. As though on cue, a gentle mist lifted from the ground.
“What’d I tell you?” Ham shot an accusing look at his brother and they reached down simultaneously to remove their sandals. Shrugging out of robes and tunics, they tied the clothing into bundles for easy balancing on their heads and resumed walking.
“The lions delayed us,” Shem said.
Ham snorted.
They lapsed into silence, following the narrow footpath clad only in undergarments. The mist offered relief from the hot day. Never mind the wet weeds slapping their legs and upper torso.
Shem decided to enjoy the fragrance of purple and yellow wildflowers. Other trails, broadened over the years from extensive usage, crossed their path. “Easy to tell no one travels to our place.” Ham said. “Ever wonder if one of Father’s brothers or sisters will follow one of these to visit us sometime?”
“They didn’t show up when Grandfather Lamech died.”
“Maybe they didn’t know.”
“Father sent a messenger. They wanted Grandfather’s body burned to one of the gods they worship. Father said no. They refused to come.”
“Maybe Grandfather would have wanted Father to compromise. Just a little. To reconcile the family.”
Shocked, Shem glanced back at Ham to see if he was joking. He wasn’t. “You know better than that. Grandfather loved his family, but he revered the One True God.”
They walked along without speaking further. Shem’s thoughts wandered back to the fact that no one used this path except for them. Sometimes it bothered him that everyone feared the ark so much they stayed away. Other times he appreciated the security it offered since violence was a problem everywhere else.
When they reached the cobbled road leading up the mountain to the city they donned clothing, but walked in the dirt and weeds beside the road. Slick cobblestones had caused many a traveler to end up with bloody scrapes and bruises. Especially on steep winding inclines. They were tired and dark was falling by the time they saw the gatekeeper getting ready to close the iron gate.
“Let’s go!’ Ham shouted.
The brothers took off at a healthy clip.
“Hey!” Shem yelled to the gatekeeper. The man waved, signaling he’d let them in.
“If,” Ham said as they ran shoulder to shoulder, “it is almost time . . . for the Flood . . . I have to . . . find a wife. You’re okay as a brother, but I’d rather spend the next five hundred years with someone prettier.”
Despair washed over Shem. He knew that finding a wife was impossible because he’d tried often. He once inquired after a wife when he visited the City of a Thousand Gods. He’d searched for a suitable companion in other towns and villages during trips to the tar pits. No virgins remained anywhere. All the girls engaged in vile sexual practices in their gods’ temples from a young age. Brash and seductive, those women held little appeal for him. He didn’t understand why or how God expected him to endure hundreds of years of loneliness, but that appeared to be his destiny. Better to live alone than with one of those women.
“Japheth found a wife,” Shem reminded his brother. “God will provide for us, too.” He felt like a hypocrite repeating things he no longer believed.
“What if he doesn’t? I’d rather die in the Flood with everyone else.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You youngsters arrived just in time,” the gatekeeper said as they ran panting through the entrance. He barred the heavy wood and iron gate behind them.
“Thanks.” Shem bent over, hands on thighs, catching his breath. Ham paced with his hands locked on top of his head. Loose rocks littering the paved road inside the walls showed evidence of the recent earthquakes. Ten or twenty armed guards patrolled the area.
One separated from his squad and approached Shem. “State your business.”
“We’re looking for a man named Noah,” Shem said.
“Crazy Noah?” The man spat a finger-width from Shem’s foot. “We arrested him.”
Shem’s eyes met Ham’s.
“Know where he is?”
“Dungeon.” He nodded toward a door just inside the closest part of the gate.
“Why’d you arrest him?” Ham asked.
The solder eyed them suspiciously. “You his sons?”
They nodded in unison.
“Trial’s right here first thing in the morning.”
Right here meant the City Gate which encompassed far more than the metal door that closed the city off at night to protect inhabitants from wild animals and intruders. The massive stone structure built into the city walls consisted of several large public buildings on two levels. Soldiers walked the wide walls and kept guard from the upper levels. Leaders transacted all official business in the gate. The spaces for government business occupied the lower level and opened onto the road. Vendors did business and judges held court in those places.
That’s where they’d find Father tomorrow.
The sky was dark now and Shem could see no one but the soldiers and the gatekeeper on the road. He heard the clop of a solitary horse and saw torch-lights flickering outside what he knew to be an inn some distance away. No one else was in sight. He supposed people were afraid to wander abroad these days.
“Can we see him for a few minutes?” asked Shem.
“Make it quick.” The soldier pointed to a doorway where a flight of stairs descended to the dungeon below. Under the broad arch, more debris was strewn across the paved floor. The threshold had been worn into a depression from years of use. “Door at the end of the corridor.” A sneer curled his lips. “And behave yourselves or you’ll end up sharing his luxurious lodgings.” He spat on the stone and ascended a flight of stairs to the guard rooms above.
More guards flanked the entrance to the dungeon.
The brothers made their way down the narrow steps and through a damp, musty corridor lit with torches that smelled of lamp oil. It dead-ended at a heavy plank door. Through an iron-barred opening, Shem could see his father. Noah sat on the dirt floor of a large otherwise-empty room, chains suspending his wrists above his head, more chains binding his ankles together. The smell of feces and urine was overpowering. Rats scurried across his legs and crowded around a crust of bread near his feet, but Noah slept, oblivious to everything. No one guarded him. The spluttering light of a torch danced on his face and white hair.
At the sight, Shem’s heart caught in his throat. Noah looked like an angel.
“Father,” Shem said.
Noah didn’t move.
“He’s hard of hearing.” Ham sounded uncharacteristically afraid.
Shem called louder. “Father!”
Noah’s eyes popped open.
“Are you all right?” Shem asked, noting the dried blood on his father’s forehead.
Before answering, Noah arched his back and rolled his shoulders. “My back is a little stiff.” He smiled. “How’s your mother?”
“Worried. Are you injured?”
“That quake bounced a stone off my head once I settled in here. And my new friends gave me a couple of fancy bracelets.” Father grinned and rattled his wrist restraints. “Otherwise it’s been pretty calm.”
Frowning, Ham chided Noah. “This is serious Father.” The jokester didn’t recognize himself in his father’s actions. Shem couldn’t help smiling.
“Don’t worry. God won’t let them kill me,” Noah said. “Not after I spent a hundred and twenty years looking ridiculous building a boat on the top of a mountain. Everyone knows God told me to do it. How would he look if they killed me now?”
“What happened?” Shem asked.
Sadness clouded Noah’s eyes. “I went to the temple to warn them one last time.”
One last time? Shem had guessed correctly.
“Rizpah trumped up some charges against me.”
“What charges?”
“Threatening the lives of city officials.”
Shem felt like someone punched him in the gut. “Threatening officials’ lives! That’s punishable by death. She wants you dead so the city can confiscate the ark.”
Noah pulled himself stiffly to his feet, and for the first time Shem could see where the iron shackles had cut into his ankles and wrists. Shem flinched when his father grimaced with pain.
“We’ll figure something out,” Shem said.
“We’ll get you out of here.” Ham added.
“No. I forbid you to do anything except pray. God will protect me.” Noah’s sons knew he meant every word.
Shem studied his father’s face, feeling completely powerless. “Please, Father.”
“No. If the Lord wants to save me, he will. If he’s through with me he’ll rescue the rest of you as promised.” Noah looked across the room at his middle son. “Ham, first thing in the morning you go home and comfort your mother. Tell her I love her.”
Ham stormed up the stairs. He’d cry as soon as he got past the soldiers. Noah spoke to his oldest. “Shem, you stay only until you know my fate, then get out fast and carry the news home. No matter what happens.”
Despair closed around Shem, but he knew better than to argue with the patriarch of the family. With grief making every step an effort, Shem climbed back up the stairs. Halfway to the top his father called after him.
“When a man is completely helpless and his only hope is the One True God, that man’s strength is greater than an army of thousands who refuse to serve God.”
A soldier stood on either side of Ham when Shem emerged from the dungeon.
“It’s not safe after dark with all the violence in the city. You can’t spend the night out here,” he said when Shem walked up. “You’re a guest of the city. We’ll escort you to the inn.” He beckoned two more soldiers.
With a pair of soldiers leading and two more behind, the group traversed the length of the street running between official-looking buildings before they turned toward an open market. The “escort” felt more than a little unfriendly.
They marched beneath a canopy of trees and past luxurious houses with windows illuminated by glowing candle light. Shem couldn’t help comparing those houses to the small wooden dwelling where Noah and his family lived beside the ark. These homes were many times larger than Noah’s. Many revealed the cracked walls and fallen rocks indicating earthquake damage. Noah’s home had survived unscathed.
They passed one particularly beautiful mansion with a jasmine-covered arch tucked into the stone wall protecting the home. The blossoms smelled sweet, but the armed gang leaning against the wall out front stunk of malevolence. One of them, a muscular man with a serpent neck-tattoo, shouted an obscenity at the brothers. Shem silently thanked God for their escort. He and Ham couldn’t afford a fight tonight.