Free Are You Kosher? by Russell Andresen Page B

to calm down the situation. “Did he say anything else?”
    “Yes!” she exploded. “He asked to see my boobs again!” Noah loved to ogle Bubbe.
    “Did you show them to him?” Bad question.
    “I most certainly did not! I slapped him and you are going to be next, young man, if you don’t show some respect.”
    I finally was able to calm her down to the point that we agreed to just mind our own business, which for a Jew is a task in itself. We would just watch as this whole thing blew over.
    Unbelievably, the days turned to weeks, the weeks turned to years, and that crazy drunk continued the construction on the ark. The worst part about it was that I don’t think he ever slept. He was the talk of the community. Nothing he ever set out to do was ever completed, so this was monumental. The only thing he ever seemed to do really well was drink, and he somehow managed to fit in the time to do plenty of that, too. It was driving everyone crazy. In the middle of the night, in the afternoon, at breakfast, you could hear the sounds of sawing, hammering, and of course, Noah, in various degrees of inebriation, spouting venom at his sons.
    Ham, Shem, and Japheth did not deserve that kind of abuse. They really were nice guys.
    “Ham!” you would hear him yell, “I told you I wanted two by fours, not fucking three by sixes!” Sometimes he would get really mean and say something like, “Shem, I swear that you are the load I should’ve dropped on your wife! Now get your head out of your tuchas! You remember who we are building this for? And where’s my cocktail?” And sometimes, he even included his poor wife in his horrible behavior. “Japheth, I’m going into the ark and I’m going to beat the shit out of your mother because there is no fucking way on this Earth that I am your father!”
    This continued for what seemed like a millennium. Over the course of time, he just became the butt of jokes for the surrounding populace and it was apparent to everyone concerned that the old man had, in fact, finally lost it. All except Bubbe, of course. I don’t know what it was, but she started acting funny, paying a little closer attention to the goings-on in the Noah camp. I would catch her looking at the sky on a regular basis. And when the animals showed up, that was all the proof she needed.
    She came into my room one day, without knocking of course, and announced that she wanted to start packing. “Izzylah,” she always calls me that when she wants something, “I’ve been watching that shmuck like a hawk and I think that even if he is wrong, we need to be prepared just in case.”
    “Prepared for what?” I asked. Now she was losing it.
    “Whatever it is that he thinks is going to happen.” She explained that Noah had told her that the doors to the ark would eventually be closed and that there would be no getting in or out until G-d allowed it.
    “So how the hell are we supposed to get in?” I asked.
    “Through the side door, you silly boy.” She smiled.
    “How do you know about a side door? He won’t even let anyone near the damn thing.”
    “I showed him my boobs.” She shrugged.
    My head was starting to hurt and I rubbed my temples. “Let me get this straight. You want to stow away on the ark?” I asked.
    “Stow away has such a negative tone.” She shook her head. “Uninvited guests.”
    Her plan was set in motion. We packed light and took only what we needed; obviously Bubbe can’t live without her wooden spoon. We watched as Noah began to load the ark with every type of supply you could imagine and began to bring the animals on board. Every type of creature there was, was loaded in an orderly manner onto the giant ship.
    Finally, Noah led his family aboard—his wife, Lois, their sons, Ham, Shem, and Japheth, and their wives Gina, Lola, and Bridgita. Once they were safely inside, he locked the door behind them. Bastard.
    We gathered at the house. Bubbe, my mother and me and six of Bubbe’s closest