People of the Flood (Ark Chronicles 2) (8 page)

The Curse

1.

Young Canaan and a seventy-eight year old Ham b
rushed aside branches and trampled upon dead leaves and old fallen twigs. At fifteen, Canaan was dark-haired, handsome and witty, and had a net of woven goat-hair slung over his shoulder.

A huge
, old cave bear prowled these parts, a monster that had stolen more than one lamb. But with several hounds crashing through the underbrush and responsive to his whistling, and with his heavy black bow, Ham wasn’t worried… much.

“
Are you sure this will work?”

Canaan flashed a brilliant grin that had already gotten him in trouble with Noah
. It happened because Japheth and Shem’s daughters loved Canaan. The handsome lad regaled them with tales and teased them so the girls mobbed him. And more than once, he had grabbed and kissed his cousins. Ham had heard about it, especially from written messages from Japheth. They seldom talked, ever since the falling out at Kush’s wedding. Ham shook his head. The trouble was his boys needed wives, and so did Japheth’s, and there were only so many girls to go around. So, for the sake of their clans, they were forced to act civilly.

Ham elbowed his son in the side.

“What was that for?” Canaan asked.

“
You’re being more careful these days, I hope.”

Canaan was sharp
. “You mean with grandfather?”

“
And with your cousins,” Ham said.

Canaan laughed
. “Yes, Father. I won’t get caught again.”

“
Well…. One of these days, you have to marry one of them.”

“
Just one?”

Ham chuckled
. “Don’t let your aunts or uncles hear you talk like that. Lamech of Cain’s line was the first to have more than one wife, and he was evil.”

“
Why would that be bad?”

“
Having more than one wife?” Ham asked.

“
Right.”

Ham eyed his son
. “I don’t think Jehovah likes a man having more than one wife.”

“
Why not?”

“
Ask your Uncle Shem. He knows Jehovah’s thoughts better than I know Jehovah’s thoughts.”

“
Shem’s a bore.”

Ham sighed
. “He’s your
Uncle
Shem.”

“
Sure. Good old Uncle Shem.”

They reached the river that Ham thought of as the boundary to his land, a fast-flowing stream fed from the glaciers in Ararat
. The river foamed over rocks and had steep sides, winding through the forest.

Forty years ago
, the eight of them had exited the Ark. At seventy-eight, Ham had a salt and pepper beard and was still as strong as an ox. He had lived in the New World longer than in the Antediluvian Era. Some of his sons and daughters had married, with children of their own getting married. Time fled faster here, maybe because there was so much to do. For instance, no one couldn’t barter or buy ore. People had to dig it out of the ground, smelt it and, with a forge, fashion a tool. Or, to make fur garments for his wife… First, he had to trap the animal. A leg-hold trap worked best, stout wooden jaws driven shut by a copper spring held the animal in a trap line. Then he slew and skinned it. Coyotes, ermines, foxes and other small animals were
cased
. He cut a line across the rump from leg to leg and peeled off the pelt from the inside out. For bears, badgers and other beasts, he used the open method: slit a line up the animal’s belly and peel off the pelt from side to side. Then he tied the pelts to a wooden frame, scraped off all the fat and tissue, and dried them. Dressing was next, applying grease and pounding it with a wooden mallet. Finally, he mixed in sawdust, cleaned and dried the pelt. Only then did he give the furs to Rahab, for her to make blankets or garments or other various articles.

“
This way,” Canaan said, pointing to a wolf run parallel with the stream.

“
When have you ever been here before?”

“
Ah…”

“
Don’t lie to me, boy.”

“
Of course not,” Canaan said. “This is my first time this far out. I’m not foolish enough to run around in the wilds on my own.”

Ham squinted at Canaan, a smooth liar, unfortunately
. Should he have taken a belt to him more often, the way Noah had to him? Canaan reminded him of himself, although his boy wasn’t as broad-shouldered or as dark. Still, he could envision Naamah being intrigued with Canaan.

“
You shouldn’t go this far from camp on your own,” Ham said.

“
I know. Don’t worry.”

“
I’m serious.”

Canaan flashed his grin.

“All right,” Ham said, propelling his eager offspring. “Show me.”

Ham limped as his fleet-footed boy dashed over the wolf run without a thought of slipping into the raging waters below.

“Hey!”

Canaan halted, looking back.

“What would you do if a wolf showed up?”

“
Whistle for the hounds.”

“
What if they didn’t come fast enough? Or what if the river-noise drowned out your whistle?”

Canaan patted the net slung over his shoulder.

“A net?” Ham asked. “What good is it?”

“
I’ll show you.”

Ham mulled over the idea of a net against a wolf
. “You’d only have a single cast,” he shouted.

“
It’s all I’d need.”

Ham liked the confidence, even if too much sometimes got one in trouble
. “I still think you should carry a bow.”

“
Like Put?”

“
Exactly.” Of all his children, Put was the best shot, a natural-born archer.

“
Over there,” Canaan said, trotting to a pool fed by the stream. A natural dam had created the pool. Farther downstream, the river churned as before. Reeds grew along the pool’s muddy bank and into the shallow waters. Canaan kicked off his sandals and shucked off his breeches.

“
You should keep your clothes on.”

“
Why is that?” Canaan asked, already wading into the pond, with only his tunic to cover his nakedness.

If Noah saw Canaan shamelessly stripping down
, he’d scowl and launch into a sermon. But how could he explain it to his son so it made sense? Of all his children, Canaan was the least religious.

“
Watch,” whispered Canaan, lifting the net off his shoulders and slipping a string onto his wrist. With a practiced toss, he threw it over the water. The net was weighted with small stones. It spun and neatly opened and landed on the surface, the stones on the edges pulling it out of sight. Canaan yanked the string attached to his wrist. With both hands, he hauled the net in. Four twisting trout fought for freedom.

Ham waded into the pond and snatched the net
. As they squirmed, the trout opened and closed their gills. “Can you do that again?”

Canaan ran out of the pond, threw the trout to the ground and waded back in
. With squinting eyes, he looked here and there. He flung the net. Moments later, he hauled out three more trout.

“
That’s amazing,” Ham said.

Canaan
’s eyes shone.

“
One more time,” Ham said.

Before long
, they trekked home with ten big trout on a string passed through the gills.

“
We’re going to show grandfather,” Ham said, taking a fork in the trail.

“
Noah always yells at me.”

“
He won’t after he sees how fast you can catch fish. This is a great invention.”

Canaan laughed, telling his dad how he
’d first gotten the idea.

It was a long walk
, tiring because it was uphill. During it, Ham recalled a conversation with Shem. His brother’s main point was that each of them should pick a direction and head out. Jehovah had said to fill the world. They thus tested the Holy One’s patience by all staying in one general location.

Ham had several objections to Shem
’s thesis. They needed to stay close so cousins could marry instead of brother and sister. Too, this wasn’t like the Antediluvian World. Back then, hordes of people had kept down the number of predators. Here, animals exploded in population. Shem had pointed out the fear clause given in the Rainbow Promise. Ham said that sometimes fear led to bloodshed. For didn’t a man often kill what he feared? It seemed foolish to scatter amid the numberless hordes of vicious beasts. He’d seen long-horned aurochs and giant-horned elk and wooly mammoths. It was a dangerous world now, what with earthquakes, volcanoes, rain, sleet and snow.

“
Why is Gomer running?” Canaan asked.

They trudged
upslope toward a wide plateau where they all used to live. Wheat grew on the gentle slopes. In the background rose the snowy heights of Ararat. A stone corral held Noah’s flocks.

Gomer, a tall man with long red hair, ran from the main tent and uphill to…

“Can you see that far?” Ham asked.

Canaan squinted
. “He’s running to grandfather coming down the prayer hill.”

“
Do you see smoke on the altar?” Ham asked.

“
I think so.”

Noah still prayed at his hilltop altar, according to Shem
, interceding for them. Sometimes, said Shem, Noah had visions of the future.

“
Why do you think he’s running?” Canaan asked.

“
How should I know?”

They increased their pace, Ham limping and calling on Canaan to wait for him
. He hated being even partly a cripple. He’d thought about constructing a chariot. But they had never recaptured the horses Japheth lost, and their lone one had long ago died. Still, donkeys could draw a chariot.

“
Ah,” Canaan said. “Grandfather runs to the tent with Gomer.”

Ham saw that
. Noah fairly flew down the hill. Despite being in his mid-six hundreds, Noah was still as vigorous as his offspring.

“
Hurry,” Ham said, sprinting for the tent, his stomach clenched with fear.

Noah beat them; he ran with terrible intensity.

With sweat pouring from him and badly out of breath, Ham, with Canaan, barged into the tent. Noah wept, with Gomer and his wife huddled behind him. On the cot, stretched out, lay Gaea. A blood-clotted gash painted her forehead.

Wide-eyed and trembling, Ham approached his nephew Gomer
. “What happened?”

Forty-year
-old Gomer wiped his eyes, looking at him with sorrow. They seldom spoke, although they each acted more civilly to one another than Japheth and he did. “Grandmother was egg-hunting in the mountains with Aunt Ruth’s girls. She climbed a slippery rock and fell and hit her head.”

Noah
’s moan, low and pitiful, felt like a dagger in Ham’s gut.

“
Is she…”

Gomer turned away as tears streamed down his face
. His wife, Io, one of Ham’s daughters, draped herself onto him. “Oh, Father, what are we going to do? Grandmother Gaea is dead.”

2.

Noah stood at his wife’s funeral, the wind whipping his long white beard, whipping his white hair and his white linen garments.

It was a solemn affair
. Everyone wept but Noah. He gazed dull-eyed into the distance as Shem spoke. High cumulus clouds raced across the sky, throwing the funeral into cold shadows. They buried Mother near Noah’s altar, Japheth, Shem and Ham placing the tombstone chiseled the day before.

The grandchildren cried, as did the great-grandchildren
. Great-great grandchildren weren’t far behind. Every person on Earth, except for Noah, shed a tear in her honor.

Noah stayed at the gravesite long after everyone else left.

“He was married for over six hundred years,” Shem told the others. “Can any of you conceive of that?”

“
Frankly, no,” Ham said.

A week later
, Noah quietly began to search. High and low, he tramped, often gone for two weeks at a time. His cheeks grew gaunt, and he told stories about the incredible variety of vicious beasts. Behemoths, dragons, great sloths, lions and sabertooths, they all thrived beyond the world of the northern slopes of Ararat and beyond Lake Van. Hounds went with Noah, but many didn’t return.

Noah snorted whenever his children urged caution
. Noah didn’t say it, but Ham told Rahab, “He’s on a quest.”

Rahab asked,
“For what?”

“
I don’t know,” Ham said. “But you can feel it in him. He’s like he used to be, during the Ark construction days.”

Shem spoke with Noah most, urging him to relax, to let the grief drain
. Noah listened to the entreaties and vanished the next day. He returned sometime later with wild vines in a bag full of dirt.

As in most things, Noah was the best farmer
. He planted stakes and groomed the soil.

“
Grapes?” Ham asked, checking on his father to see if he planned any more forays.

“
We need to expand our selection of foods,” Noah said, leaning on his shovel.

Ham kept his thoughts private
. And he didn’t quite dare ask his father where he had found the vines. Surely, Noah didn’t intend to ferment wine. Ham sighed. He wanted too, oh, how he did, but… He shrugged—not as long as Noah ruled.