Free Noah by Mark Morris

least one game out of every three. Observing them from her seat beside the tent, where she had been bouncing Japheth gently on her knee and making him giggle, it was clear whata bright and lively mind Ila possessed. Ham played Og’s game tentatively, uncertain where to make his marks. But Ila was more confident, instructing and advising him, albeit in a subtle, self-effacing way.
    Suddenly Og’s head jerked up, and he pointed at the mountain.
    “There!” he called.
    Everyone turned to peer in the direction he was indicating. Noah and Shem, looking dusty but—in Noah’s case, at least—invigorated, appeared over the lowest ridge, and came trooping down the path toward them.
    “Father!” Ham called, abandoning the game and running across the parched ground to throw himself into Noah’s arms.
    His father laughed and swung his son high in the air. Despite the fact that his face was grimy with dirt and sweat, his arms and legs covered in small cuts and bruises from his arduous climb, it was immediately clear to Naameh that the expedition had been a fruitful one.
    “What happened?” she asked.
    Noah, still holding Ham in the crook of his arm, smiled at her.
    “As soon as Shem and I have cleaned ourselves up, I’ll tell you all about it.”
    * * *
    A little later the family and Ila sat in a circle inside the main tent, waiting for Noah to join them.
    He was outside talking to Og, who was a little too large to squeeze into the small space with the rest. Shem was making use of the delay by teaching Ila the rudiments of Cat’s Cradle. Naameh had noticed howhe had been unable to take his eyes off the girl since he had come down from the mountain, and how both Shem and Ila giggled and blushed every time their fingers accidentally touched as they fumbled with the strings.
    Eventually Noah entered the tent, and the two of them reluctantly put aside their game to listen to his words.
    “Grandfather lives,” he said, beaming at them all. “He’s helped me see what we’re here to do.”
    “Can we meet him?” Ham asked.
    Noah shook his head distractedly. “Men are going to be punished for what they have done to the world. There will be destruction. There will be tragedy. Our family has been chosen for a great task. We have been chosen to save the innocent.”
    There was a puzzled silence.
    “Who are the innocent?” Shem asked. He had not yet been told of his father’s vision, despite the hours they had spent together descending the mountain.
    “The animals,” Noah replied.
    Ham frowned. “Why are they innocent?”
    It was Ila who answered. “Because they still live as they did in the Garden.”
    Noah nodded and smiled, clearly impressed. “We need to save enough of them. Enough of them to start again.”
    “But what of us?” Ham asked.
    Noah looked surprised at the question, almost as if he hadn’t considered it before. “I guess when all this is gone we start again.” He swept his arm in an expansive gesture to encompass them all. “We start again in a new and better world. But first we have to build.”
    “Build?” asked Shem. “Build what?”
    Noah indicated that they should all follow him outside. From his tunic he took the green bag that Methuselah had given to him and upended it over his palm. The brown seed dropped out. Holding it delicately between his thumb and forefinger he showed it to his family, and then he used a stick to gouge a small hole in the dry ground.
    “A great flood is coming,” Noah told them as he hacked at the earth. “The waters of the heavens will meet the waters of the earth. We build a vessel to survive the storm. We build an Ark.”
    He stepped forward and dropped the seed into the hole.

GENESIS 6: 13–14
    And the Creator said unto Noah, “I have determined to make an end of all flesh; for the World is filled with violence through Man; behold I will destroy them… Make yourself an Ark…”

8
THE FOUNTAIN
    N oah jerked awake. What had he heard? Sitting up he looked