Monday, July 18, 2011

Chapter Twenty-Four


Hauling Water

It is clearly indicated that the animals collected about Noah and entered the ark of their own accord, that is, without any special effort on the part of Noah. The animals came by instinct, but God had planted in them this special instinct for this occasion.”
Alfred M. Rehwinkle

Shem leaned against the fence fronting the waterwheel, scanning the room in the aftermath of the chaos, taking inventory. His brothers looked as rattled as he felt. Ham sat with his back to a support beam, head down, eyes closed, forearms on his knees, probably thinking about Eudocea. Japheth gazed up into the tree where he’d fled for refuge during the confusion. Shem had no idea what was going on in his head.
Numerous small creatures they hadn’t noticed earlier scuttled though the space, still in a flurry over the recent activity. Birds fluttered and squawked from high nests. A squirrel chattered, stopped to flick his tail, then chattered again. Two rock badgers waddled from behind the waterwheel.
Shem remembered the tiger that was still loose on the ark somewhere and wondered what other surprises might pop up. They couldn’t afford to relax yet.
 “See those owls up there,” Japheth pointed. “Along that horizontal branch.”
The lamb they’d seen earlier lay by the door through which the cats had disappeared, as though waiting for the lions’ return. The lamb must be lonely and desperate if he was actually waiting for the lions.
Shem had no trouble comprehending that feeling.
He put his palms on the fence behind him and pushed away. “May as well get started. We have to check things out.” Make sure nothing had gotten trampled.
They split up to cover the room quickly.
“Couple of hairy pigs over here,” Japheth called out. 
“Uh oh,” Ham’s worried voice floated over from the pool. “The crocs are missing.”
With his senses on high alert, Shem inspected the perimeter of the room. He nearly squashed a couple of toads underfoot, and jumped when a cricket landed on his hand, but he saw no large reptiles. Two masked raccoons examined him from a tree. They looked hungry and Shem had no food for them.
“We’ll transport you to a nice cozy home first thing tomorrow,” Shem assured them. “Then we’ll feed you.”
“Behind you!” Ham warning was nearly drowned out by a rumbling hiss.
Shem instantly recognized the reptilian thunder. And the crocodile sounded close. He streaked to the other side of the room in record time. His brothers already waited by the door they’d first entered, breathing hard, poised to make their escape. Japheth opened the door for Shem and slammed it behind the three of them. They stood panting inside the circular hallway with the crocs on the other side of the door.
Shem closed his eyes, concentrating on slowing his breathing. All the saliva in his mouth had gone dry. He needed a drink. “That was close!” His throat was so parched he couldn’t swallow. He opened the door a crack. Two crocs lumbered slowly past then started back toward the pool in center of the room. “They could have outrun us if they wanted to. Wonder why they didn’t?”
 “This is not how I envisioned life on the ark,” Ham complained. “Let’s get out of here. The lions and bears are contained for awhile.”
“In a minute.” Shem’s brain was already clicking over the task at hand while he held the door open slightly keeping an eye on the crocodiles. Maybe instead of hunting the brothers, the crocs simply needed water. He didn’t know how long they’d been on the ark with nothing to drink, but he knew they’d been here longer than he had. And he was very thirsty.
Lost in his thoughts, a tap on the shoulder surprised him. Standing on tiptoe Ham peeked through the crack over Shem’s head, his eyes fixed on a spot some distance across the big room. “How many of each kind did father say would come to the ark?”
“Two.”
“Well, the penguins must not have heard the announcement. I see . . . one, two, three. . .” Ham pointed as he counted, “. . . four, five, six . . .” His voice trailed off in searching mode. “Seven. Seven penguins. We’re going to have to shoo a few off.”
“No, seven of each bird and seven pairs of each clean animal,” Japheth informed
him.
Shem glanced Ham’s direction to ascertain whether his brother was joking or if he had the memory of a coconut. Maybe Japheth’s earlier estimation of Ham hadn’t been too far off. Ham’s lips curled into a sly smile and the dimples on his cheeks deepened. He was deliberately baiting Japheth.
Impatience rose in Shem. They were wasting time. If they didn’t get cracking they’d be up all night getting things in order. He snapped into work mode. “Japheth, can you hook Buzz up to a cart for hauling water tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“The crocodiles need water now.” Shem said. “Fill the pool and they won’t wander aimlessly. They’ll stay in the water.”
“The penguins need water, too.” Ham added.
             “All the animals need water.”
Japheth’s brow furrowed. “Do you know how spiteful that camel can get when he wants sleep?”
“Poor baby,” Ham intoned.
 “We don’t have a choice,” Shem said. “If Buzz won’t haul the water use another camel, but we both know the work will go faster with the strongest camel.”
“And the meanest,” Japheth muttered.
Shem shrugged. “We’ll do just do the basics tonight, but we need to get started.”
********
Shem and Ham filled large water pots from the well outside the ark while Japheth left to hook up Buzz. It felt kind of nice, the two of them working as a team again while Japheth did his own thing. Years of practice had taught them to work efficiently, taking turns drawing water and filling pots, staying out of one another’s way.
Ignoring the depression niggling at the back of his mind, Shem forced himself to concentrate on planning everything they would need to accomplish before they could go to bed for the night. It was difficult to stay focused and the tightness in his chest reminded him that time for finding a life’s mate had passed. A world-wide deluge was about to sweep all hope from his life. Busyness hadn’t eradicated his sadness, just pushed the hopelessness to the back of his mind for a while.
Ham grunted with the effort of carrying a water pot to the path for easier pick-up. “They’re going to need food, too.”
“We can wait and feed them in the morning.”
“Good.”
“I’ve been trying to figure out if we should bring in food or dip into ark storage.”
“Let’s use what’s on the ark.” Ham set a pot by the path and water sloshed out, darkening the dirt.
“That would be easier.” Shem’s bucket hit the water. “Problem is, we don’t know how much longer before the Flood. If its months, we could use up too much of the food. Last thing we need to do is deplete the ark’s stores and not have enough for the whole voyage.” He pulled up the rope and tipped the bucket into a nearby pot.
Ham stepped in to take a turn with his bucket. He looked over the stone wall of the well, elbows on the ledge, and lowered the pail. “Do you think Father’s right?”
“You mean that we’ll be on there more than a year?” Shem couldn’t help thinking how much more pleasant life would be for Ham than for him if Eudocea regained her health.
Ham turned the pulley to bring up his bucket. “Yep. That’s what I mean.”
“He’s been right about everything else.” Shem hated to think about it.
             A camel whined in the distance and Ham chuckled. “Buzz doesn’t sound happy.” 
Shem managed to fill and empty another pail before Japheth’s squeaking cart, pulled by a grumbling camel hobbling on three legs, stopped beside them. Their annoyed brother hopped off the cart.
“Why do you have his leg hobbled?” Shem asked.
“Don’t feel sorry for him,” Japheth snapped. “He boogies around just fine on three legs.” At Japheth’s command, the camel knelt, then after a brief hesitation, lay down.
“You think he’d bother obeying if his front leg wasn’t hobbled?” Japheth tossed a blanket over Buzz’s back and sat sideways on the camel’s back. “Before I got him hobbled he was throwing his hind legs around in the air trying to kick me and squawking like a maniac.”
“Are you going to help us load the urns onto the cart?” Ham asked.
 “Hey. You wanted me to force an unwilling head-strong camel to work. Let me at least do what I have to control him.” Japheth bounced hard on the camel’s back. Twice. “That’s to remind him I’m up here and I’m in control.”
The camel flattened his ears and a guttural protest reverberated through his throat. He swung his neck around, showing the whites of his eyes to Japheth.
“Really looks like you got him under control.” No one could miss the sarcasm in Ham’s tone. He picked up a pot and staggered to the cart with it. Shem helped him lift his load over the side. They were all overly tired and a long night stretched ahead of them.
“How is taking water onto a boat logical?” Japheth fumed from atop the camel. “Supposedly boats float in water and water is scheduled to drown the entire world in days or weeks. I spent years making pipes for that whole irrigation system on board and we’re hauling water inside pot by pot!” Japheth wasn’t usually so cranky.
 “You taking a turn at being testy?” Ham chuckled.
“Sorry but dealing with that cantankerous beast when I’ve been up all night wears on me.” Japheth sighed.
Shem agreed with Japheth about hauling water. No one had anticipated bringing water into the ark and Shem wasn’t certain if they could take in enough even if they carried in the bare minimum, but it had to be done. “One more pot to go,” he called up to Japheth giving him a head start on readying Buzz for the ordeal. “Think he can pull all that weight up the ramp with only three functioning legs?”
“No problem for him.”
Ham and Shem started around the front of the camel with the last urn.
Too late Japheth warned. “I wouldn’t go there!”
Before the words left his mouth Buzz, still sitting, snaked out his neck and nipped Ham’s bottom. “Ow!” Ham dropped his side of the pot and most of the water spilled, soaking Shem.
“It’s going to be a long night,” Shem said.

Even with Shem and Ham walking beside the cart to steady the pots, much of the water sloshed out on the trip into the ark. They lost more rattling over the third floor corridor and even more on the descent from the third floor to the second. Shem made a mental note not to fill the pots so full next time.
Surprisingly, Buzz cooperated the whole time, even during the narrow squeeze through the doorway of the large central space on the lowest level. Once inside the room, the camel didn’t make the expected fuss at the sight of crocodiles and the cart was able to easily skirt them. Japheth had done his job well.
Within a few minutes, the brothers dumped all the water. Liquid barely covered the bottom of the pool. Nevertheless, by the second trip the crocs were already resting contentedly in the skim of water on the bottom. With the third load Shem filled a trough by the waterwheel where the other animals could drink in safety. They poured all subsequent cart-loads into the pool.
The sun was peeking over the horizon and Buzz was complaining loudly by the time they finished. After Japheth cautioned they might be damaging Buzz’s leg by having it hobbled for too long, Shem gave permission for him to take the camel home and put him to bed. He and Ham could check on the fate of the lions and grizzlies trapped beyond the central big area, he told Japheth. Had onepair killed the other?
“You think the two of us can manage alone?” Ham asked as they approached the barred door.
“Caging a bear might be easier than wrangling Japheth and that camel.” Shem was almost too tired to think. “We don’t have to do anything today except locate them without getting eaten. If they’re just hanging out in a room like the lions were earlier, we’ll secure the area and relocate them to a more suitable spot tomorrow.”
“Whichever two we find alive should be full by now.” The flat inflection in his brother’s voice told Shem that Ham also expected one pair of carnivores to overcome and consume the other. “That should render them harmless for a few hours.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Shem words rang hollow. If that was true, why were his senses prickling again?
The two men crept down the long hallway reserved for large dangerous animals. It was lined with thick gopher-wood walls and iron bars. Moving along closing and latching iron cages as quietly as possible, their torches cast bar-like shadows inside each cage that extended from the hall to the far wall. Shadows danced on the floor behind them. Fear thumped in their chests.
“Did you hear that?” Ham asked. A guttural rumble came from a short distance down the hallway where solid walls closed enclosed the rooms the heavy doors opened inward.
Shem cocked his head, the hairs on the back of his neck lifting. Together the brothers walked carefully across the planks until they located the room where the sound had originated. They could hear the rumbling coming from inside, but the wall blocked their view of the room.
A few feet from the cell, Shem handed his torch to Ham and tiptoed forward in the dark. “Stay here and run if anything bad happens,” he whispered. No use in both of them dying.
Shem advanced toward the door. The unearthly sound grew louder until Shem wanted to plug his ears. Or run. Every muscle in his body tensed to flee. Holding his breath, he rushed at the door, slammed it and stepped back.
The steady rumble inside continued without lessening.
Ham hurried to Shem’s side and handed him his torch. Shem thrust the light through the bars in the door’s peep hole. Near the back of the room two bears slept. The male was snoring louder than Father. “They’re already hibernating.” Shem said. “Wish I could fall asleep so fast.”
“I can’t believe that sound was a snore!” Ham exclaimed.
For a long moment the brothers locked eyes and smirked before exploding with howling laughter. They rolled on the floor with tears coursing down their cheeks, indulging in the sort of hysterical fun that follows release from fear. Or sleep deprivation. Suffering from both, Shem felt they deserved a bit of amusement. Even after they composed themselves, occasional snickers continued to punctuate their conversation.
Eventually, Shem stood and brushed himself off. “Let’s go see what’s left of the lions.” Somehow the laughter had erased all dread of what they might find.
With no trace of blood in the corridor, the brothers would need to check every room. They strode down the hall shutting and locking the doors as they progressed. They found nothing until they reached the last room. Both lions stood side by side midway into the room, yellow eyes glowing. Watching the brothers.  
Very much alive.
            And treacherous.
            For a few moments, the brothers and the lions studied one another. Then Shem and the largest lion lunged for the door simultaneously. Shem arrived first, yanked it closed, slammed down the lock, and jumped back in one smooth motion. A split second later a paw shot through the bars, claws extended. Shem fell backward, the image of a black mane and long teeth scored deeply into his permanent memory.
He couldn’t stop shaking. He had always considered hauling timber for the ark hard work, and climbing thirty cubits to waterproof the outside dangerous, but a single day trapped inside the ark with living breathing animals made all that seem as easy as eating clotted cream.
What would life be like after the ark was crammed with thousands more?
“I hope we can get out of here without running into a tiger or two,” Shem said.
Ham sighed. “I’m afraid this is just a little taste of what the future holds for us.”