Among The Sons of Seth

Among
the
Sons of Seth
By
Jennifer L. Armstrong

Among the sons of Seth
by J ennifer L. Armstrong

2012

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1
Part One

2

3
Chapter One
nd Yah commanded the man, saying, Eat of every tree of the
garden . . .
I hold the manuscript with care. The room is dim and
I am all alone, but I still glance over my shoulder. I am on the
second floor and I would hear anyone coming up the stairs, but it
makes me nervous just the same. I do not know why. These
words are not forbidden. More like forgotten.
My finger follows the writing as it goes on to tell the story of
Adam, our father, and Hawwa, our mother. In all the world, only
one thing was forbidden to them. Fruit from a tree, a tree that
bestowed the knowledge of good and evil.
On the day that you eat of it, you shall surely die.
Except that nobody does. Apart from Abel. And nobody talks
about him.
I hear someone coming up the stairs and hurriedly put away
the manuscript. How it came to be in this room, I have no idea.
It is in a small trunk, underneath some rough woollen garments.
The trunk is clearly my brother's craftsmanship. Tubal-Cain's skill
with bronze and iron is known throughout the city of Cain.
It is only Naamah coming up the stairs. She has come up to
A
4
see what is taking me so long. I was sent up to the stuffy,
crowded room to get some more bronze platters.
Sorry, I say.
They're heavy, she says, in that understanding way of hers.
We shouldn't speak like this. Our language is rich and Naamah
and I have an awful habit of speaking in the short, clipped talk of
our childhood.
We have always been close, two daughters of the same
mother. Our father Lamech, has two wives, Adah and Zillah.
Zillah is our mother, as well as Tubal-Cain's. Adah has two sons,
Jabal and Jubal.
Jabal no longer lives in Enoch with us. As a young man, he
would take our father's robes and stretch them out wherever he
could, creating fun little rooms for us children to play in. As a
grown man, he took animal skins and did the same thing. Now he
lives out in the fields with his tents and the other tent dwellers.
They have their flocks and though he lives a simple life, Jabal is a
wealthy man. City dwellers go out and live in tents and discover
they like it.
Jubal divides his life between the city and the fields. He is an
accomplished musician and is most popular among the tent-
dwellers when he plays his flute for them around their evening
fires. In the city, he plays the harp for the wine-drinkers in the
taverns. During the day, he has students that he teaches his skills
to.
Our family is not wealthier than other families in Enoch, nor
are we especially powerful. But Lamech has made us different by
taking two wives. To take two wives is to deny another man one
wife.
But there is more. There is a story about my father that people
discuss in the evenings over their wine. It is said that thirty years
ago, he killed a young man. No one knows who the young man
was, just a visitor to the city, but for some reason, he and my
father fought. The man wounded my father and my father
retaliated by killing him.
So people in Enoch are cautious around my father.
For that matter, I am cautious around my father. We all are. In
some ways, Tubal-Cain is more of a father to me than him.
Naamah and I live with Tubal-Cain and his family now, in the
apartments beside the store.
Chapter One
5
Naamah helps me carry the bronze platters downstairs. Our
shelves are well-stocked and Tubal-Cain insists that they stay that
way. For the wealthier customers, Tubal-Cain will make custom
items, but most people are happy with what is in the store.
There is a lady waiting impatiently. But she cheers visibly when
she sees the load of platters in our arms. Of the twenty-two
plates we have in stock, she purchases twenty. She has no way of
carrying them home, but that is no problem in Enoch. There are
plenty of young lads, the ones who are still under fifty who have
not started their families yet, who can be hired to carry a load.
There is no indignity to the work. We are all children of Cain
here.

It was our mother Hawwa who brought the knowledge of
good and evil into the world.
She is the mother of all living and Cain was her first-born son.
The story is told that upon his birth, she held him high and cried
out to our Elohim, Yah, that he had given her a man. Abel, his
brother, was born shortly after.
The writings in the trunk talk of a garden, a garden unlike the
Land of Wandering. Our Father Cain settled in the Land of
Wandering and built this city. But the Garden . . .
Naamah interrupts my thoughts.
It's him! she says to me. In her excitement, she forgets to
speak in the fullness of our language. Tubal-Cain does not care if
we speak like children in our apartment, but he insists that in the
shop, we must speak with refinement. In our language, to convey
that a man is within sight can be expressed in only a few words,
but the words contain a wealth of meaning and tell you where the
man is, what direction he is coming from, and even whether he is
young or old. But Naamah does not have to speak properly for
me to understand.
Naamah has her eyes (and her heart) focused on only one
man. He is our cousin, Qayin, and we share the same grandfather,
Methushael. It is generally understood that a man will be married
by the time he is fifty and our cousin, Qayin, is now in his late
forties.
Tubal-Cain is ambivalent about me and Naamah getting
married. He does not want to lose us in the shop. His own wife
has no interest in standing here all day and his daughters are too
6
young to be here. But he knows that we cannot be without
husbands for much longer.
I have never met any sons of Seth or the other sons of Adam,
but the sons of Cain are strong and handsome, and Qayin is in
no way an exception with his dark eyes and wavy shoulder-length
black hair. His muscles show through a white cotton shirt and
dark woollen trousers.
My sister Naamah is as beautiful as any daughter of Cain, but
I do not think Qayin appreciates it. Today, he comes into the
shop and bluntly asks to see his cousin, Tubal-Cain. That we are
his cousins too is of no interest to him. But in order to give my
sister some time alone with Qayin, I volunteer to go into the back
courtyard to look for our brother.
Behind the store is a large area where he and his artisans work.
Sister! Tubal-Cain looks up from the iron railing he and
another man are working on. Only the wealthy can afford such
things to act as barriers against falling off the roof. But, of
course, it is the rich who have their lavish wine parties on their
roofs and risk losing a guest if they do not provide some kind of
protection for their staggering visitors.
Tubal-Cain wipes his hands on his apron and comes over to
kiss me on both cheeks. He is in a good mood and he does not
even know about the sale of twenty platters yet. But my brother
has always been a kind man. I would be content to have a
husband like him.
Qayin is here to see you, I say.
Tubal-Cain sighs and rolls his eyes.
He will not go to our father, so he comes to me.
What business does he have with our father? I ask, taking
his arm as we return inside.
But Tubal-Cain just shakes his head and covers my lips with a
finger. His fingers always smell like metal.
Qayin! My brother greets our cousin with the same pleasure
he greets all the people who come into the shop. He has a way of
making people feel welcome, not as paying customers, but as
special guests.
Tubal-Cain, says Qayin, returning my brother's hug with a
brisk coolness.
What can we do for you, Qayin? says Tubal-Cain, including
me and Naamah in the exchange.
Chapter One
7
But Qayin doesn't want to include us. He jerks his dark head
toward a side room where we take our meals while in the shop.
Tubal-Cain nods and leads him into the small room, but he keeps
the door slightly ajar.
Naamah and I are wide-eyed. We both have the same thought.
When the men talk like this, they are arranging a marriage. I do
not blame Naamah for wanting to hear what is going on.
Although passersby pause to look into our glass windows and
examine the fine-details of Tubal-Cain's work, no one comes in.
Of one mind, Naamah and I move closer to the door.
Why is your sister named Havilah? Qayin is demanding. For
one sick moment, I fear that he is asking for me in marriage.
I was young when they named her. I did not ask. Why?
Qayin does not answer his question.
What I am about to tell you, you must tell no one. Not even
your wife.
Tubal-Cain laughs.
My wife? My wife will have at least five things to tell me when
I walk through the door. I doubt I will be able to tell her anything
about my day.
Qayin is not interested in Tubal-Cain's domestic situation.
A man in the tavern, a trader, showed me a different metal.
One I had never seen before.
Tubal-Cain murmurs something agreeable.
He said it came from the land of Havilah. Tubal-Cain, it was
unlike anything I had ever seen before.
In what why?
It had a different shine to it . . . The fact that Qayin must
search for words is an indicator of how unusual this metal is.
More like the sun, he finally says.
Hmmm, says our brother, taking this in.
Now that Naamah knows it is not a marriage proposal she has
moved away from the door, visibly deflated.
I have borrowed money from Jabal, says Qayin.
Foolish, foolish. I cannot see it, but I know my brother is
shaking his head. There is only one way to become a slave in our
city and that is to be unable to repay a debt.
You would not say that if you saw this metal. I used the
money to purchase the man's whole hoard. And I will make four
times the amount of money I borrowed from Jabal.
8
But why come to me?
Because it is not enough to simply have a metal. One must
do something with it.
Ah, says Tubal-Cain. You want me to work it. What sort of
things . . .
It is not a huge quantity. It would have to be jewellery.
Smaller items. But, Tubal-Cain, the wealthy would be willing to
pay much for such an exquisite metal. And with your
craftsmanship, the amount they would be willing to pay would
only increase. You would have your share, of course . . .
I move away from the door.
Naamah is listlessly helping a woman select an iron pot. I go
over and gently squeeze her shoulders. The woman is an aunt on
our mother's side. She is shrill in demanding that the pot be of a
certain thickness and I patiently point out that if a pot is too
thick it will take the water longer to boil.
My sister has moved back to behind the counter, to be alone
and away from the demands. Like Qayin, Naamah has dark eyes
and long dark hair. I am the only one in our family to have hair
the colour of grass at the time of harvest and olive-green eyes. It
is not right that someone as beautiful as Naamah should be so
unhappy. And it is no use telling her that Qayin is not a kind man.
Though Naamah is quick to see the good in things, she is blind to
the evil, I think. Tubal-Cain's wife is the opposite. She always
assumes the worst. It is only Tubal-Cain who can see both and
still choose the good. For my own part, I long for something
else . . .
The manuscript in the trunk talks of a garden. It is a strange
story and not well known among the people of Enoch. Hawwa
ate the fruit of a tree that was forbidden and made us all like Yah,
our creator. Hawwa didn't have to choose the Tree of the
Knowledge of Good and Evil. There was another tree in the
garden. The Tree of Life.
I wonder what Life would have tasted like?

9
Chapter Two
he Pishon skirts the whole land of Havilah where there is
precious metal, bdellium and shoham stone, Qayin is
saying. He and Tubal-Cain are back in the small room that
runs off of the main showroom.
Onyx, says Tubal-Cain, nodding. I have seen it. It is a
beautiful stone. Though it is rare.
It is not indigenous to the Land of Wandering, says Qayin.
He has some kind of a map and is tracing his finger around it.
He barely said hello to me and Naamah.
Tubal-Cain has kept his word and not said anything to us
about Qayin's new metal. Today, Qayin came hurrying into the
shop with a bundle of goatskin and announced that he must see
Tubal-Cain immediately. I had to go upstairs where my brother
was having a midday meal with his wife and seven children. His
wife glared at me for taking him away from their family meal.
Inside the goatskin is the new metal.
Naamah and I cannot see it, but from Tubal-Cain's admiring
appraisal, we know it must be impressive. When he inquired
about where this metal was mined, Qayin brought out the map
they are now examining.
T
10
I have never laid eyes on the Pishon river, says Tubal-Cain,
thoughtfully.
Neither have I. Of the four rivers, I have only seen the Tigris
and the Gihon. The Gihon goes around the whole land of
Cush.
The other river is the Euphrates. I know this without seeing
the map. The manuscript in the trunk speaks of the four rivers
that flow from the Garden. It is common knowledge that there is
an enormous body of water west of the Land of Wandering. But
it is from a tributary of our closest river, the Tigris, that the city
of Enoch gets its water.
I know, says Tubal-Cain. Though I have never seen it
myself. Jabal has though. When you have a tent and livestock, you
can go anywhere.
And what about Havilah? says Qayin, shrewdly. I know he is
not talking about me.
Tubal-Cain is quiet for a moment.
My father met a man from there once, he says. But I was
too young to remember it. I would not be surprised if my sister
was named for the occasion of their meeting.
What happened to the man?
How would I know? Tubal-Cain says. I doubt very much
he settled here.
No, why would he? Qayin agrees.
Now, says Tubal-Cain. What will we do with this? He has
obviously turned his attention back to the new metal.
Naamah is not even bothering to listen to this conversation,
so she has been serving the customers. But now there are too
many for her to handle by herself. I turn my attention to the man
who has just walked through the door.
For one moment, I am startled. This man is taller than even
Qayin. And if possible, he is even more handsome, in a darker
way.
His smile melts me. Naamah glances at him but then turns
back to her customer. He is not Qayin, so he is not of interest to
her. In any case, all his attention is on me.
Permit me to assist you, I say, carefully, speaking in the
refined language.
He bows slightly.
As you wish. It is the polite rejoinder.
Chapter Two
11
May I show you our collection?
It is a test. Most people are in a hurry and just say, No, show
me your . . . and then name what they want. But the truly polite
person will allow themselves to be shown around the whole shop
and when they have seen everything, only then will they divulge
what it is they have come into the store for.
I would be honoured.
The man is two heads taller than me and my usual poise fails
me as I take him around the store and point out various items.
He responds with perfect ease, making compliments about the
craftsmanship. But I get the sense that he is more interested in
me than he is in the objects I am showing him.
I am not beautiful like Naamah. When people speak of
Tubal-Cain's sister they are always speaking of Naamah.
The tour complete, it is now time for the man to reveal what
he really wants to buy. He walks slowly back to a glass display-
case of knives. Tubal-Cain's knives are as ornamental as they are
functional. Shepherds prize them for their sharpness. City-
dwellers carry them for show. With great care, the man now looks
over the whole collection.
At last, he points to one.
An excellent choice, I say. I am not just being polite. The
blade is iron, the handle is an ebony wood. There is no other like
it. It took Tubal-Cain three days to make it.
When the man nods, that indicates that he has made his
choice.
I unlock the case and remove the knife.
Would you like it wrapped? I ask, handling the knife
cautiously. The blade is freshly sharpened.
No, I have a sheath. The man pulls back his cloak to reveal a
finely-crafted leather scabbard on his left hip. I hand him the
knife and he inserts it into the sheath.
How will you be paying? I ask.
He adjusts his cloak to access a leather pouch on his right hip.
He is opening it as Qayin and Tubal-Cain exit the small room. My
brother is quick to note the distinguished visitor. I can see that,
like me, he is impressed by the man's stature and equally curious
about what he has purchased. Qayin, on the other hand, is visibly
annoyed by the man's presence. Usually it is Qayin who is the
most handsome man in any room.
12
With these stones, the man says, the pouch open. Casually
he drops several round smooth stones onto one of our tables.
Tubal-Cain comes over to examine them.
With a quick welcome to be courteous he then asks the
stranger, What are these? Clearly intrigued, my brother has
picked up one of the stones and is studying it with the care of an
expert. Even Qayin, heading for the door, pauses and comes back
to join him.
This noble visitor selected the ebony knife, I say helpfully.
Without knowing what the man has purchased, Tubal-Cain will
be unable to determine whether this is a fair trade.
But Tubal-Cain barely hears me. I am the only one close
enough to him to hear him mutter, I have never seen anything
like these.
Is it sufficient? the man asks.
Yes, friend, says Tubal-Cain, looking up. It is sufficient.
And I wish you well.
The man nods but lingers. Tubal-Cain has already turned his
attention back to the stones. Qayin is watching over his shoulder,
obviously envious of my brother's acquisition. I feel it is my duty
to escort the man to the door, though I admit, with the women
purchasing pots, I usually let them find their own way to the exit.
The man's smile is as dazzling as the sun that now shines on
the white stones of the plaza outside my brother's store.
We both hesitate at the door. As the one who tends the store,
it is my job to open it, but it is the man who pulls back the
shimmering glass door.
I want to know more. Will I see him again? Does he live in
Enoch? Who is he? Why is he a head taller than every other man
out in the street? The words that come out of my mouth are not
the words of my heart, but I am curious.
Where did you find such beautiful stones? I ask.
We are now standing just outside the shop.
They are the rocks that sparkle on the surface of the moon,
my lady.
The man winks at me and then he is gone.
With weak legs, I go back inside and return to the table where
Tubal-Cain and Qayin are still examining the stones. I am not
sure that I believe the man's explanation.
They are perfectly spherical, Tubal-Cain is saying. And yet,
Chapter Two
13
I see no sign of a tool being used on them.
Tubal-Cain walks over to the window with one of the stones
and holds it up to the light. The stones were a shimmering grey
on the table, but now in the light, they are like liquid.
Extraordinary, Tubal-Cain says, shaking his head.
Naamah is examining Qayin as he examines the stone. I sigh.
My poor sister.

Now I have a reason to be just as moody as Naamah.
My eyes scan the crowds that move through the streets. The
plaza outside the store is bustling with temporary stalls. The
people that have purchased Jabal's tents and make a living with
their livestock and their fields come into town once a week to buy
and sell. Large mats of produce are being examined by city
people while the field-dwellers move in and out of the shops
making weekly purchases. A few have come in here today for
pots, knives and other metal items. My mind wanders too greatly
to give any of them much thought.
It is the final words of the stranger. My lady. He could have
just said O lady. That would have been the correct form. And the
stranger had excellent manners, so he would know that. But he
used the possessive form of the female gender. And not only did
he address me in the possessive, he used the form that denotes
complete possession. Body . . . and soul. Even husbands and
wives do not always talk that way to each other. It is a form that
is reserved for people who are both married and lovers. Not just
people who bear children together, but for people who know
each other completely. It is safe to say that Tubal-Cain and his
wife do not use this form when they address one another.
It is a startling way for a man to speak to an unmarried
woman.
And I have not been able to stop thinking about him. And so
today, I continue to scan the crowds.
It would be easy to see the man with the moon stones, if he
were here. Even among the field-dwellers, no one has his height.
Why should I think of such a man? I will most likely never see
him again.
I return my attention to rearranging some tin cups. The tin
cups sell particularly well when the field-dwellers come into town.
The city people prefer glass or delicate glazed pottery for their
14
water or spiced wine.
Such a man probably already has two wives and is the chieftain
of a town by the Tigris - someplace that my brother and Qayin
do not know about, someplace that has shimmering stones and a
way of shaping them that the sons of Cain are unfamiliar with.
There are other tribes. Other sons of Adam. They are the
Other People.
Many people do not even know why our Father Cain came to
the Land of Wandering. I know because of the manuscript in the
trunk. People do not know that Cain had a brother named Abel.
And that Abel was the reason why our Father Cain could not
farm the land anymore and had to build a city instead.
And most people have never even met a son of Seth. Only the
travellers and traders. Seth was born after Abel and after Cain had
already gone.
The writings in the trunk say something too awful for me to
ever repeat to anyone. Indeed, too awful to even think about.
The manuscript also says that when Cain left his father and
mother he also left the presence of Yah. Such a thing fills me
with horror and yet, I hardly know why. Except that to be away
from the presence of one's creator seems to me to be unutterably
tragic. And yet, I do not know what it is like to be in his presence!
Is it possible that the visitor to our shop was a son of Seth? Is
it possible he has been in the presence of Yah? The thought
makes me breathless.
The more I think about it, the more I decide, it is most likely.
It would explain why he is so different. After all, when has a son
of Seth ever come to Enoch? Perhaps they are all like him, tall
and noble.
Although it is satisfying to solve a mystery, it is disappointing
to know that in all likelihood, I will never see the man again.
Naamah is as restless as I am. The fact that it is market day
does not increase the chance that Qayin will come to the shop,
but the new metal might bring him in. Rather than work in the
courtyard with the other men, our brother is working with the
new metal in the small room off of the shop. He and Qayin call
it gold because it is as golden as the sun. It is likely that Qayin
will stop by just to check on Tubal-Cain's progress.
Naamah's robe is too elegant for the store. If Tubal-Cain
notices, he does not say anything. His mind is too full these days,
Chapter Two
15
anyhow. Some of the city's wealthiest citizens have been stopping
by the store to see his new creations. Qayin is eager to sell some
pieces of jewellery made with the new metal. Plus, there is the
issue of the stones brought in by the stranger. Tubal-Cain made a
daring proposition to Qayin. There are three stones. He could use
some of Qayin's metal to create a necklace with the three stones
set in a pendant. The lady in Enoch who wears it would have
something entirely unique and there would be no limit to the
price Tubal-Cain could put on it. Tubal-Cain says that in
exchange for the gold needed to make the necklace, he would
forfeit his share in the profits of all the other gold jewellery.
Qayin has agreed, although, with his suspicious nature, he
probably thinks it is an asymmetrical deal.
Perhaps we should visit our mother tonight, I say to
Naamah. Our mother, Zillah, is the second wife of our father
and it has been hard for her. Adah, Lamechs first wife, was never
a kind woman, though in later years, she has mercifully spent a lot
of time with Jabal and his children among the tent-dwellers,
leaving Zillah alone in the townhouse. I am hoping that by going
to visit our mother, Naamah will be reminded that life with a
man, even a handsome one, is not easy.
Perhaps, Naamah murmurs.
Have you seen the beautiful earrings Tubal-Cain made? I
move closer to her so that the only customer in the store, a
shepherd examining a cast-iron stove, will not hear.
They are beautiful, Naamah agrees. Tubal-Cain's delicate
filigree drop earrings will be a success in Enoch. The do not use
up a lot of the gold, but they take a long time to make.
What is it? I ask. My sister is lost in thought.
She hesitates.
He did not just make earrings, she says.
I nod.
I know. He made some rings too.
Exactly, says Naamah.
What do you mean? I glance at the shepherd. He is exiting
the store.
Did you hear what Qayin said to Tubal-Cain?
I shake my head. Unlike Naamah, I do not monitor all of
Qayin's words.
He said . . . Naamah pauses.
16
Yes?
He said they would be good for engaged couples.
Engaged couples? I say. How so?
Naamah holds out her left hand and points to the finger
beside her smallest one.
He says that the vein in this finger is connected to the
heart . . .
My eyes widen.
Where did he learn this? I say. As far as I know, he counts
no physicians among his friends.
Naamah shrugs.
. . . and we, that is, he and Tubal-Cain, can sell rings to
engaged couples, as a pledge. A woman can wear a ring to save
her heart for one man.
Gold rings, I suppose, I say drily.
Well, yes, says Naamah. But even other metals when the
gold is all used.
But this is not my sister's point. She is still restless.
And . . . ? I say.
And I think maybe one of the gold rings will be for me, she
says.
I hope my jaw does not drop.
What makes you say that? I ask.
He asked our brother to put one aside.
I think about this. That is news. But does it mean that the ring
is for Naamah?
There is no reason why I should not discuss this with Tubal-
Cain. Our sister needs to know, once and for all, whether or not
she will ever be the wife of Qayin. But I will have to wait until
my sister is not around. My opportunity comes when Naamah
leaves the store to get our midday meal. Tubal-Cain's wife will
have made us something. Normally, he would eat it with her in
the apartment, but these days, he is eager to finish working with
the gold.
Even though I know he does not want to be disturbed, I hurry
into the side room as soon as Naamah disappears from sight.
Thankfully, the shop is empty of customers.
Dear brother, I say, hurriedly, trying not to startle him as he
works carefully on a ring. I would not disturb you except that
this is important.
Chapter Two
17
Yes? he says, shifting the magnifying lenses from his eyes to
the top of his head.
It is Naamah, I say. She has heard that Qayin asked for one
of your rings to be put aside.
Tubal-Cain nods slightly.
And she has also heard that the rings are to be pledges
between men and women.
Yes, says my brother. It is silly idea, I think. But he has
decided that people will buy more rings from me, as a result.
Possibly, I say. But my concern is Naamah. She thinks the
ring that Qayin has asked for will be for her.
Ahhh, says my brother. He bites his lip slightly and for the
moment, the ring he is shaping is forgotten. No. I am afraid it is
not.
For another woman? I ask, boldly. If Qayin has confided in
Tubal-Cain, he will not be able to tell me.
No, I do not believe so.
Then for who? I ask.
For the man who suggested the idea to him, says Tubal-
Cain.
A physician? I ask.
My brother shakes his head and then remembers the lenses on
his head. He grabs them quickly before they fall and break.
No. For the man who bought the dagger and paid with the
stones.
I just stare at him.
Tubal-Cain returns his attention to the ring and it is my
dismissal. I return to the store to find an impatient tent-dweller
who wants some help selecting some iron sheep-clippers. Not my
interest, but I direct him to a premium pair and assure him that
they will still be working a hundred years from now.
Stones from the moon and now a ring for a finger that's vein
goes straight to the heart! Who is this man?
And how did Qayin come to be talking to this man?
Now I am just as eager as Naamah to see Qayin come into the
shop. But what will Naamah say when she finds out the ring is
not for her?

18

19
Chapter Three
ear cousin! I say to Qayin. He is startled. So is Naamah.
He pauses halfway across the shop floor. He was just
going to go straight to the small room without a glance
at me or Naamah.
Good afternoon, Havilah, he says, formally.
Good afternoon, Qayin, I reply. How kind you are to
visit.
He has not come to visit, but by saying this, I require him to
stop to make polite conversation. It will be brief, I am sure, so I
make the most of it.
We are still talking about the beautiful stones, I say to him. I
do not need to tell him what stones I am referring to. Where
could the man possibly have found such gems?
Now Qayin is torn. He does not want to waste time with me,
but he knows something and will enjoy feeling superior if he
divulges it to me.
He is a stranger, says Qayin.
Really? I say, trying not to let it leak out that this is
manifestly obvious.
Qayin nods.
D
20
This surprises me. A son of Seth, in the taverns? I do not
know why, but this does not sound right.
That is the extent of Qayin's divulgence. But it is enough to
explain how Qayin had contact with the man after he left this
shop.
And now Qayin is disappearing into the small room.
What did you do that for? Naamah practically hisses at me.
For information, I say, quietly.
Oh, she says.
It is not easy but she has to know.
The ring is not for you, I say, gently but bluntly. And I want
to know why Qayin now believes that a vein on a finger leads to
the heart.
It is a silly explanation, but Naamah is too stunned with
sorrow to really be listening to the words. I put my arms around
her and she leans against me. The one customer in the store, an
older woman examining a bronze jewellery box, glances at us and
then decides to mind her own business.
Sister! I say. It is time that our brother finds you a
husband!
Naamah sniffs.
I cannot make him speak to Qayin, she says.
There are many other men in Enoch, I say. Inspiration
strikes me and I lower my voice even more. Sister, I do not
believe he is the one for you. He has borrowed money from
Jabal. If he cannot repay it, he will become a slave. But if he is
married, he could give you to Jabal instead to repay the debt.
Naamah's eyes widen, but she quickly answers, her voice
reproachful.
He would never do such a thing!
Oh yes he would, I think.
And besides, he will repay the money.
This time, yes, I say. Because our brother makes the most
exquisite jewellery in all of Enoch. But what about next time? A
man who borrows money is not a man to marry. You and your
children could all end up in slavery.
Naamah cannot argue with this. Our brother would never
borrow money. A man who truly cares for his family would
rather do without than risk losing them to his benefactor.
I am so focused on Naamah that I do not notice the next
Chapter Three
21
customer who comes in. When someone comes up to the
counter, I think it is the lady with the jewellery box.
Good day to you, ladies.
The voice is deep and rich.
Now it is Naamah who needs to hold me up.
It is him!
Even in my weakened state, I notice a curiosity. The
implication of wishing someone a good day is to wish them
God's blessing. Everyone knows God created us and that to have
his blessing is advantageous. I think I might be the only one who
knows that our Father Cain has brought us to a land where the
words are hollow. But it is a polite sentiment to wish upon
someone. Except that the man has not wished us God's blessing,
only a good day. He has removed the aspect from the word
good that implies that the source of goodness is beyond us. He
has implied that the day itself is good.
But his smile pushes all further thoughts from my mind.
Is the man, Qayin, present? he asks.
Yes, noble one, I say. How absurd I must sound. The phrase
is used for those who lord over us, not for a man who comes into
Tubal-Cain's shop. Even Naamah is looking at me. But the man
does not seem to mind. His smile, if possible, gets even broader.
Whether it is Naamah's intention to give me a few moments
alone, or whether it is just her desire to speak directly to Qayin,
she volunteers to go tell him he has a visitor.
The stranger and I are left staring at one another. I know we
do not have much more than the time that it takes for a few
drops of sand to fall through the glass, but I do want to know
something.
I am Havilah, I say.
And I am Semjaza the Nephilim, he replies. It is an unusual
name. I have never heard it before. And I have heard of no tribe
with the name Nephil. I turn my head slightly and see Qayin
pushing his way past Naamah to hurry over to the counter.
Semjaza speaks before Qayin has a chance.
I have come for the ring. Semjaza's tone is sharp and
commanding. I have to hide my amusement at seeing my proud
cousin slightly bow to this stranger.
It is finished, says Qayin. It is the reason I came today.
Tubal-Cain comes out of his small workroom, wiping his
22
hands on his apron. He greets Semjaza like he would any
customer.
Meanwhile, Qayin is backing toward the workroom, still
bowing slightly. I have never seen anything like it. Even the elders
of the city do not get this kind of deference. Then he disappears
behind the curtain, reappearing with the ring. He holds it out for
Semjaza's approval.
Semjaza takes it from him and examines it.
Very good, he says, finally. Again, he uses the word good in
a way that implies that the goodness is in the ring itself. When
someone tells Tubal-Cain his work is good, there is always the
implication that it is because of the favour of God.
I wonder what it is that Semjaza knows. If he speaks of moon
rocks and veins to the heart, why does he also imply that
goodness exists apart from the creator? Then it occurs to me . . .
Hawwa's tree! Good and evil do exist apart from the creator! But
we children of Cain have always huddled around the good, using
it in our language, as a buffer . . . from the evil.
I look more carefully at Semjaza.
The way he speaks tells me that if he can look at good and
isolate it, then he can also look at evil and isolate it. Such a thing
suggests that the man has no fear.
Is this what the sons of Seth believe? It is awesome to
comprehend, for it means that God is not found in the good or
the evil. He is found somewhere else.
Now the ring must be paid for. Will there be more moon
rocks?
No. Now Semjaza has what most people use. The bronze
coins that come from the same copper that my brother Tubal-
Cain works with.
The price for the ring is high. I try not to let my eyes widen as
Semjaza puts down the coins. Qayin looks positively greedy. I
believe this is his first sale.
May the ring be a blessing to you, says Tubal-Cain,
respectfully, as Semjaza puts the ring into his pouch.
It will be beneficial for me . . . and for my lady. With a
glance at me, he takes a few strides and is out the door. My legs
are hardly able to hold me up and I must grasp the counter for
support. But Qayin is too busy counting the coins again for
anyone to notice.
Chapter Three
23
Dear Naamah! I look at my sister. While Semjaza goes off
with the ring that she thought had been intended for her, Qayin
looks to the coins with the love she would like him to have for
her! I must talk to Tubal-Cain about finding her a husband. A
good man.
Tubal-Cain and Qayin disappear back into the room. All the
coins are now in Qayin's pocket. I will be curious to see which
lady of Enoch wears the necklace that is my brother's payment.
Naamah and I are not fit to work. A physician would, no
doubt, advise us both to lie down, but although there is a
beautiful iron bed-frame in one corner of the shop, there is not
even a place for Naamah and I to sit. The reason is, Tubal-Cain
says he cannot stand the sight of the shopkeepers who sit on
stools all day, eating sunflower seeds and spitting them out, while
they call out to the customers.
But we do have the second floor.
I tell Naamah to go upstairs and rest. The room is filled with
surplus stock, but there are also trunks of old clothing Tubal-
Cain's wife's cast-offs that are being saved for their daughters.
One could make oneself comfortable.
Wearily, Naamah nods. Is it possible that love could make a
woman sick? I watch my sister goes up the narrow stairway. Is
this what Hawwa felt for Father Adam? Our own Father Cain has
a wife, his sister Awan, who came with him to this Land of
Wandering. Did she follow him because she was sick with love
for him as my sister is for Qayin?
Would I follow Semjaza to an unknown land, leaving behind
my parents and the presence of Yah?
There will be no further thought for me this day. Naamah
does not relieve me in the shop and the rest of the afternoon is
spent taking care of customers. Tent-dwellers come and go. The
city people do not bother visiting the shops when the tent-
dwellers come, preferring to come another day of the week when
it is not so crowded. But they mill out in the market square,
examining the produce and the animal skins. Tubal-Cain's wife
will be among them, selecting a week's supply of beans, grains,
potatoes, aubergines, tomatoes, and whatever else the tillers of
the soil have brought in today. It will be fresh vegetables and
bread for dinner tonight.
Tubal-Cain is still working in the small room when I am finally
24
able to bring down the awnings that protect our glass windows
and lock the front door. I tiptoe up the stairs to check on
Naamah and find her sleeping on one of our brother's wife's old
animal skins. I go back down and tell Tubal-Cain that tonight I
will go and visit our mother.
He nods as he works.
I would go with you if I were not so busy, he says. The
streets are not always safe.
I shrug.
It has always been that way.
Tubal-Cain shakes his head.
You are younger, he says. But I remember a time when no
one ever had to fear the streets at night.
The only reason I know that it is true is because of our father.
Had he killed a man today, it would not seem so shocking.
I will be careful, I promise.
I would feel better if you had an escort, says Tubal-Cain,
looking up from the ring he is working on. Or if you waited
until I could accompany you. Is it important that you speak with
our mother tonight?
I hesitate. I think our mother would understand that Naamah
needs a husband and I am hoping that she would advise me how
I can help her. At the same time, I would like to ask her if she
has ever met a son of Seth.
Tubal-Cain is torn. He has the gold to work on but it is an
honourable activity to visit our mother and I know it has been
much longer since he has seen her than I have.
I will go soon, he says. Then we will go together.
His eyes return to his work.
I will not be there for the evening meal, he adds. Lovely. It
will be me who has to convey this to his wife who will act like
slicing some tomatoes was a big accomplishment and that it is
somehow my fault that her husband has too much work. I sigh
and go back into the main shop, now darkened by awnings
covering the glass.
It is just as dark outside when I step out into the cool night air
for the short walk to the apartment. The market is now quiet.
There are only a few tent-dwellers left in the city, mostly young
men who are heading for the taverns with their day's earnings.
When a male voice startles me, my first fear is that a tent-
Chapter Three
25
dweller is about to accost me.
But it is Semjaza. He grabs my arm as I nearly fall into him.
And then his arm is around my waist, supporting me.
Careful, he repeats.
Thank you, I manage to say.
It is my duty, is his correct reply. Where are you heading in
this darkness?
Only to the next door, I say.
Would you like an escort? he asks and I can see his smile by
the fading sun.
I manage to straighten up and even to laugh.
No, I say. I think I can make it on my own.
Despite this, I am escorted to the front of the green door that
will open to the stairs going up to the small apartment I share
with Naamah. Of course, first I will have to stop on the main
floor to let Tubal-Cain's wife know that it will just be me for the
evening meal.
Would you perhaps care to join me tonight? Semjaza asks.
For the moment, I do not know what to say. Then I am
indignant.
I am not a woman who frequents taverns, I say.
Semjaza laughs.
I would not take you to a tavern, my lady. My lady.
Instead, he continues, I would take you to the stars.
With a stop along the way for some more moon rocks, I say
drily, trying to sound calm despite my beating heart.
He laughs and takes me hand, to wrap it around his arm. I
hesitate slightly. Would Tubal-Cain approve? And then I tell
myself, Tubal-Cain is only concerned about my safety. He wanted
me to have an escort and now I do. No man would dare accost
me with Semjaza at my side. But the small thought at the back of
my mind is, who will protect me from Semjaza?

26

27
Chapter Four
e call it Neptune, Semjaza is saying. It is a planet of
oceans. He is looking thoughtfully at the sky. There
is a storm there right now.
How does he know? I can just barely see the blue dot he calls
Neptune. And who calls it Neptune? The sons of Seth? Semjaza
speaks of the planets as if he has visited each one and is familiar
with all of their contours. There were the gas planets, two of
them, both larger, he assures me, than I could ever imagine,
though they may look small in our night sky. It is only because
they are so far away. One of them has rings around it, the other
has moons.
And does each star have a name?
Semjaza hesitates.
Yes, he says abruptly. But I do not know them all.
He points to a strip of light in the sky.
Galaksya, he says. It contains more stars and planets than
you can imagine.
I look where he is pointing.
How do you know any of this? I ask.
My father is as a star in heaven, he answers absently.
W
28
His arm around my waist, he points out something else in the
night sky. It is the closest star to our earth, he informs me.
The tent-dwellers are knowledgable about the stars. Did
Semjaza grow up among them? The men from Enoch who study
the stars often live for a time with the tent-dwellers, usually for
the time it takes earth to go around our own star.
The matter of the ring in his pouch also occupies my mind.
And then a thought occurs to me. Semjaza is so knowledgable.
Perhaps he can offer me some advice.
May I impose upon you? I ask. It is the way of indicating
that I might be overstepping the boundaries of politeness. If the
answer is, yes, I will be forgiven for any breach of propriety.
Yes, my lady, says Semjaza, taking both my hands in his and
giving me his full attention.
I take a deep breath. I feel weak again and have to remind
myself what it is that I was about to ask him.
It is Qayin, I manage to say.
Ah, yes, Qayin, says Semjaza, nodding. He is your cousin.
I nod.
I cannot dishonour my family so I have to be cautious with
my words.
My sister, Naamah, I say quickly. Longs to have Qayin for
her husband. The ring you carry, she believed to be his gift to her,
along with a pledge of marriage.
She is heartbroken now, says Semjaza, understanding.
Yes, I say. But I fear her heart would break many times
again if she were to be his wife.
Semjaza nods.
It is the way of the sons and daughters of men, he says. It
is the curse.
I am stunned by the reply. Because I cannot argue its truth.
The manuscript in the trunk! How could I have forgotten!
Hawwa ate the fruit that brought the knowledge of good and evil
to all her children. But Yah was angry. He punished both our
Father Adam and Hawwa. But who knows these things?
What can I do for her? I ask.
He is still holding my hands.
There is nothing you can do for her, he says. But there
need be no curse for you.
I nod.
Chapter Four
29
If I do not marry . . .
He shakes his head.
You mistake my meaning. There are other ways.
Other ways? I ask, bewildered.
The sons of men bring sorrow to their sisters, he says.
Why should you desire them?
Who is there, but the sons of men? I say.
Semjaza is silent for a moment. There is only the light of the
moon to see him by, his hair dark and wavy, his eyes the colour
of burnished bronze.
The sons of God.
The way Semjaza says it, I begin to tremble.
What do you mean? I ask.
The sons of God, he repeats. And the daughters of men.
No curse. No sorrow.
I do not know what to say. Is it possible? A son of God? Our
Father Adam was a son of God, made of dust. But now we are
all children of Adam.
Where do you come from, Semjaza? I ask.
I come from the stars, he says simply.
And for the moment, I believe him.

Semjaza talks to Lamech, to arrange the marriage. I have never
been close to my father and of course, my father is known to be
a murderer. But Semjaza is clearly the stronger of the two. If he
requests my father's permission, it is only a formality. Semjaza is
more than confident enough to simply tell my father that he has
chosen me.
In any case, Lamech announces both his permission and his
blessing.
Naamah's envy is palatable. It seems particularly poignant now
that the ring is on my finger.
Tubal-Cain is surprised and a little bit awed, I think, at the
prospect of such a brother-in-law.
It fills me with a terrible fear. The fear comes from knowing
that I am not good enough. Semjaza is far superior to any other
man in Enoch, and yet, he chose me. How long will this fancy
last, I wonder? It is true, I would always be the first wife, but it
does not bring me comfort to think that he could very well
decide to take others. It is approved only if a man can afford it,
30
but a man who has moon rocks is sure to be able to afford it.
I leave it to my father to find out all the details about my
future husband. Where is he from? Where will we live after we
are married? There is no reason why I should not ask these
questions myself. Tubal-Cain's wife is scornful of me for
knowing nothing about Semjaza. She did not marry my brother
without making sure she knew all she needed to about him.
Tubal-Cain even had to agree that he would only take one wife.
Already, all of Enoch is talking about the upcoming marriage.
My brother, Jubal, is planning the music. There will be an
ensemble of flutes and harps and instruments unlike that of
anything the city has ever seen. There is something about
Semjaza that makes everyone think that he must be an important
chief, wherever he comes from. They talk about how unworthy I
am of this great honour, but it is with envy. The general
assumption is that I will be the most honoured lady in some
distant settlement. But Semjaza could be a wanderer, for all I
know.
Tubal-Cain and I make a belated visit to our mother, Zillah. It
is partly to discuss the upcoming marriage ceremony with her. As
mother of the bride, she will have an honoured position in the
day's festivities.
Tubal-Cain greets our mother solemnly, slightly abashed at
how long it has been since his last visit. I have no such guilt and
greet her with the usual kiss on both cheeks. We sit down in her
small sitting room. The townhouse is mercifully quiet with Adah
visiting Jabal and our father out doing his business.
Our Havilah has made a fine match, says Tubal-Cain.
Our mother, a slim dark-haired woman with fine features,
dressed in a long blue house robe made of soft wool, nods.
Your father has told me. He has said there is no man like
Semjaza.
I nod.
He tells me that you will be living in Enoch, continues our
mother. And that his brothers will come and join him.
His brothers! Tubal-Cain and I look at one another.
That should liven things up for the ladies of Enoch, says
Tubal-Cain. Does he have sisters too?
It is a mischievous question, but our mother takes it seriously.
No, only brothers.
Chapter Four
31
And what does his father do? Tubal-Cain asks. I am
guessing it may have something to do with gem stones or a
mine.
Our mother shakes her head.
He says that his father is a leader and that his sons are his
obedient servants.
Hmm, says Tubal-Cain. It is cute to hear Tubal-Cain talk
this way. It is a sound he used to make as a child when he was
pondering something.
After Havilah, he says. You will have the most honoured
position at the feast. At every wedding, the mother of the bride
is treated with great reverence. She is a symbol of our mother,
Hawwa, who as everyone knows, is the Mother of All Living.
Our mother nods, but she looks serious.
What is it, Mother? I ask.
She looks down at her hands.
Is it Semjaza? I lean forward, taking one of her hands. Are
you concerned? Do you think he is not a good man?
She shakes her head.
I have not met him. I have only seen him from a distance.
He is a good man, my brother reassures her. Of course, he
does not know if this is true, or not. But our mother is not
behaving as if there is something to celebrate.
Perhaps, says our mother.
Mother, I say. Do you think I should not marry? Do you
think I should remain as I am . . . ?
She shakes her head.
It is your right to marry. It is your decision. But the place of
honour is not mine.
Tubal-Cain and I stare at her.
Mother! says Tubal-Cain. What on this earth are you
talking about?
The honour is not mine, she repeats.
Mother! I say. This is about all I can manage. My mother
seems to have lost her senses.
I always knew this day would come, she says, more to
herself, than to us.
Mother, if you mean that . . .
Whatever it is I am going to say, she shakes her head.
Lamech will never tell you. And if you had chosen to never
32
marry, I would never have told you. But the marriage ceremony is
the only ritual before Yah and I cannot lie to everyone.
It is true. A marriage ceremony is a commemoration of the
day Yah presented Hawwa to Adam.
But what is there to lie about, Mother? says Tubal-Cain,
bewildered.
About Havilah, she says.
What about Havilah? he says.
No. She thinks again. It is not about Havilah. It is about
me.
Tubal-Cain and I do not know what to say.
It is about me, she says again. The place of honour is not
mine.
We wait and when she does not speak, Tubal-Cain asks, Why
Mother?
Because Havilah is not my daughter, she says simply, her
eyes on the wall.
My eyes are wide. Zillah is the only mother I know. How can
she speak this way?
Mother! says Tubal-Cain, shocked.
It is true. She looks at him. And you should know it. You
were old enough to know it.
I am sitting very still. Not my mother! But then, that means
Naamah is not my sister and Tubal-Cain is not my brother!
Tubal-Cain is now sitting, also still and silent.
I turn to him, though I speak to my mother.
What do you mean? Why should he know?
Because he was old enough, she repeats. He was already a
fine craftsman when you became my daughter.
How did I become your daughter?
Your father was a stranger, says Zillah.
My father is not Lamech?
Zillah shakes her head.
No. There is a long pause and then finally she says,
Lamech killed your father.
This revelation is like a thunderbolt suddenly striking in the
sitting room.
And still, Tubal-Cain is silent.
I have to sit for a minute before I can say anything. And when
I speak, it is slowly.
Chapter Four
33
I am the daughter of the man who was killed by our father?
I turn to Tubal-Cain.
He nods slightly.
The man came to me. He wanted a trunk. He said he had
some manuscripts that needed to be kept safe from the
elements.
The trunk in the storage room!
I was young and my father was the one who told the
customers how much they were to pay for my work. You see, I
did not have the store then. I worked from here.
But . . . I do not know what to ask.
There was an agreed price, continues Lamech. It was the
first trunk I made. It was beautiful. I did not care what the agreed
price was. I simply wanted to make something that would last,
something of beauty.
I nod. The trunk in the second-floor storage room is both
strong and a work of art.
But when our father saw it, he said we would charge more
for it.
My eyes widen.
But the stranger only had the amount of money that was
agreed upon. My father said that I had put so many hours into
the trunk that it would be an insult to accept the price agreed
upon. My only part in it all was to make the trunk and all I knew
was that the stranger never purchased it. My father gave me a
robe and a manuscript to put in there and to be honest, I have
not thought of it since. I think I might still have the trunk
somewhere.
Zillah looks at me. With great difficulty, she continues the
story.
The man had a small child with him. You.
I stare.
We do not know why. There was no wife. It is possible she
died bringing you into the world.
I sit, stunned. The robe in the trunk belongs to my true father.
The manuscript in the trunk is the story of my people. And the
manuscript tells me that sorrow with childbirth was part of the
curse.
I do not know everything, Zillah continues. Only that
Lamech stood firm and would not accept anything less than his
34
price. I think he suggested that the man give you as part of the
payment.
My eyes widen at the horror.
The man refused and said that where he came from, an
agreement was a matter of honour. That is all I know. Lamech
came home that day and boasted that he had killed a young man,
a young man who had wounded him. Our Father Cain was
avenged sevenfold and he seventy-fold.
I feel a distress I have never known. An ache for someone I
have never met. My dead father. Who probably wounded Lamech
in an effort to keep me from becoming a slave.
He brought you home that day, says Zillah. I had recently
had Naamah so Lamech gave you to Adah. But Adah said she
would not raise a stranger's whelp. I took you. She leans forward
to grasp my hand. I loved you, Havilah. You must never doubt
that. I loved my two little girls. Tubal-Cain was gone and I loved
you both.
Now the woman I thought had been my mother is weeping
into her hands.
But you must have known, I say, turning to Tubal-Cain.
He shrugs.
I was not certain. I left this home the day my father killed
that man. I started my own shop and handled my own business
transactions.
No wonder Tubal-Cain is so indifferent at times to the
amount of money his craftsmanship generates. His first work led
to a death . . . the death of my father.
I never saw you until I came back to visit my mother's
house, Tubal-Cain continues. Whatever doubts I had, I told
myself that my mother had hidden her pregnancy well and that
you were her true daughter.
But this explains his kindness toward me. Tubal-Cain has been
more of a father to me then Lamech. He always knew, no matter
what he told himself.

This does not need to change anything, Havilah, says Tubal-
Cain. We are back out in the dark street, having comforted our
mother as best we could. She will always be my mother. I know
no other. I told her this and she held me close before we left. The
wedding was not discussed any further.
Chapter Four
35
It changes everything, brother, I say, turning to him. That
trunk. I have seen it. I have looked through it. I must find out
who the people were who recorded the history in that
manuscript.
But Semjaza will still love you no matter who you are, says
Tubal-Cain.
I think about this as we walk and a disturbing thought occurs
to me. My sister, Naamah, is far more beautiful than me. The
family I grew up in is one of handsome men and lovely women.
But Semjaza did not choose Naamah, he chose me. Perhaps he
knew something not known by the rest of Enoch. Perhaps he
knew who my real father was.
It is silly and I do not feel like sharing the idea with Tubal-
Cain. He will dismiss it as a result of the shock of learning that I
am not who I thought I was. But it is a thought I cannot make go
away. And it means that before I marry, I must find out who I
am.
The first thing I must do is talk to Semjaza.
No.
The thought stops me. I actually stop walking. It is
unexplainable. But I cannot discuss this with Semjaza. The place
to begin is the trunk.
Tubal-Cain has continued walking and now turns to see me
standing on the stone walk.
He steps back, takes my arm and wraps it around his.
Come sister, he says. There is much to do.
I understand his feelings. He wants me to marry and to marry
well. Semjaza is taller and stronger than any man in Enoch. When
I am his wife, I will be safe and protected and all will be equal for
the injustice of losing a father.
But I will not take a husband until I know who that father was.

36

37
Chapter Five
aamah does not know that I am not her true sister and I
leave that for our mother to tell her. Tubal-Cain and I
carry on as usual.
I beg Naamah for some time alone and assuming that I have
wedding preparations, she graciously agrees to take the store for
the entire afternoon.
But instead of going out, I go up to the second floor and to
the trunk.
The manuscript, I have already memorized. But now I read it
with new eyes. There is a brief genealogy. Previously, the names
were strangers to me. But now I think these strangers may be my
father and his father's fathers. It starts with Seth, the son Yah
gave to Adam and Hawwa to replace Abel. Seth was one hundred
and five when he fathered Enosh. Enosh was ninety years old
when he fathered Cainan. Cainan was seventy years old when he
fathered Mahalalel. Mahalalel was sixty-five years old when he
fathered Jared. That is where it has stopped. There are references
to other sons and daughters. The settlements of Seth would be
well-populated.
I turn my attention to the tunic and the robe. Both are well-
N
38
worn but were originally carefully-crafted to endure. Most people
in Enoch are fastidious about their appearance, but this ensemble
suggests either a life of hard work or a long journey or an
indifference to outward appearance. Maybe all three.
If only there was a map, or some indicator of where my father
came from. But at least it is possible that I may have the names
of some of my fathers.
The contents of the trunk have given me a sense of direction,
a sense of belonging to another community. This manuscript was
entrusted to my father to preserve and I, his daughter, still have
it. I must return it to the community that it originated from.
Carefully, I pack everything back into the trunk and then ponder
my next step.
A daring plan enters my mind.
I will make a journey to the Mother of all Living! Hawwa will
know the names in this manuscript. And it is possible that the
descendants of Seth continue to live in the presence of Yah! The
thought is too wonderful for me to think of. Right now, I have to
focus on the journey itself. Would Semjaza be willing to join me?
If I tell him only that I must make a holy pilgrimage to Hawwa to
ask her to bless me with fertility, he will not be able to refuse!
Many women go to Awan, wife of Father Cain, before their
wedding to ask her to bless them with many children, but surely,
for someone as magnificent in stature as Semjaza, I should go to
Hawwa herself to seek favour.

Semjaza is adamant.
I will not set out on any journey before our wedding day. He
has come to Enoch, his brothers are to join us shortly and so in
Enoch he will stay. And I will stay with him.
His tone is firm, though I think I may detect a hint of threat
in it. But this is no surprise. I am pledged to him in marriage
the contract made between my father and my future husband.
And thus, it is already as if I am his wife. The only delay is
because a wedding must be arranged.
Except that Lamech is not my true father and therefore has no
right to arrange a marriage on my behalf. Zillah has more
scruples, refusing to have a place of honour at the wedding
ceremony. But the fact that Lamech is not my true father gives
me a sense of comfort. The contract is not binding should I
Chapter Five
39
choose to reveal that I know who I am. But for now, I will leave
things as they are.
Lamech is planning the wedding. A social outcast for all these
years, he is now the centre of attention. His daughter is marrying
a man who all can see will be a prominent man in the city. The
fact that his brothers are coming to join him does not diminish
his importance. It only enhances it. All are eager to have a place
at my wedding so as to ingratiate themselves with Semjaza.
Anyone with daughters is hoping that there will be enough
brothers to go around.
So Lamech is all consumed with planning the wedding of the
century. Interestingly, he does not notice my mother's lack of
involvement. It is Adah who is by his side, going from shop to
shop to make special purchases. They invite me over one night to
discuss the menu, to see if I have any opinions. I do not. But
Tubal-Cain's wife, who insisted on coming along, does. Zillah and
I smile sympathetically at one another while she and Adah have
an in-depth discussion about the amount of figs we will need and
whether it is too commonplace to include dark-leafed field greens
in the salad.
Lamech is sure of one thing. There will be an abundance of
wine. He has already commissioned a vineyard outside of the city
to provide all we will need.
It would help if we knew how many people we were going to
have at the feast, says Adah, slyly, looking at me. She is seeking
information. She knows the whole city will be attending. What
she wants to know is whether Semjaza's brothers will be
attending. And how many brothers does he have? Then she will
be the first one to be able to announce it to everyone when she
does her tour of the market shops tomorrow.
I smile and am prevented from answering by Lamech.
There will be enough for all, he says.
The talk turns to the decorations and what flowers are in
season.
I watch Lamech - the man who I thought was my father, who
I now know murdered my true father. Hatred should consume
me, but Tubal-Cain has made atonement and been as good a
father to me as my own would have been. But it does not
diminish my desire to find my true family.
From the way Adah and Tubal-Cain's wife talk, I am the most
40
favoured woman in Enoch. Semjaza is the most desirable man
and they clearly cannot understand why he chose me, of all
people.
I wonder the same thing. And that is why I do not believe this
wedding will happen. I am not enough for Semjaza, and I know
it. There are many proud women in Enoch who would feel
worthy of his attention. I do not. And I fear whatever pleasure I
would have with Semjaza would be equalled in sorrow at some
point in the future.
The desire that Adah and Tubal-Cain's wife think I should
have toward Semjaza, I have instead to find my true family. But if
the streets of Enoch are dangerous for a solitary woman, what
about the lonely roads and fields of the Other People?
It is not a journey I want to take alone, but there is not a single
person I can think of who will share it with me.

Hello cousin!
Qayin greets me with more enthusiasm than he has ever
shown me up until now. I am in Tubal-Cain's shop today, but not
as an employee. Semjaza will not permit me to work anymore.
But Tubal-Cain has invited me to choose my wedding present
and insists that I take whatever I want with no thought of cost.
Hello cousin, I say, greeting him with no enthusiasm. My
brother is in the courtyard.
It is not Tubal-Cain I came to see.
This is different. I glance at Naamah who is behind the
counter and listening to every word. I see hope on her face.
I came to speak to you.
I do not dare look at Naamah.
I am honoured, I say automatically. The words are hollow.
There is a silence that I do not bother to fill. Qayin is trying to
put his words together.
Your love, he says awkwardly.
My eyebrows go up.
Semjaza, he explains.
Oh, I say.
I am interested in what he does.
I was staring at a display of bronze platters but now I move to
the display case of knives. These are the knives that Semjaza
looked at.
Chapter Five
41
I am not sure, I say. Lamech might.
Both Qayin and Naamah look at me strangely. It is the first
time I have called Lamech by his name, rather than referring to
him as my father. I must be careful. I will not tell this story. It is
the choice of my mother, Zillah, whether or not she wants
Enoch to know.
But surely he has plans, Qayin continues.
He must, I agree. Absentmindedly, my eyes wander over the
knives.
And perhaps he would like someone to help him, says
Qayin. Someone who knows the people of the city.
Perhaps, I say. I have just had an idea.
Then you would be willing for me to work with him?
I suppose, I say, my eyes still on the knives. A knife! That is
what I need!
Qayin is exuberant.
I will tell him I have your blessing! says Qayin. Thank you,
cousin! Thank you!
I understand why he wanted to talk to me. If Qayin has my
permission, he can approach Semjaza and say it is my desire that
they be partners. It is the obligation of family. Well, I will leave
that to Semjaza. For now, I must pick out the right knife.
It does not have to be ornamental, only something that I can
handle. So it cannot be too heavy. It will be necessary if I have to
travel alone. With it, I can defend myself.
Qayin is already gone. And I can barely look at Naamah, but I
must. For the moment, I turn away from the display of knives.
Dear sister, I begin. But Naamah is in tears. Helpless to
comfort her, I tell her to go lie down, that I will watch the shop.
When Tubal-Cain comes in from the courtyard and finds me
behind the counter, he indignantly berates me. Semjaza will not
be pleased if any of the citizens of Enoch inform that his soon-
to-be wife was playing the common shopkeeper. But I explain to
Tubal-Cain that our sister is in too much turmoil to be in the
shop today.
He sighs and sits down on a newly-made ornate iron bench up
against one wall.
It is your wedding that inspires these thoughts in her, he
says.
I do not bother to enlighten him. Naamah has had her mind
42
on Qayin long before Semjaza appeared in Enoch.
You must do something, brother, I say. Speak to our father.
Lamech should arrange a marriage for her. It is only right. She is
older . . .
I stop. Naamah is not older than me. Zillah had only just given
birth to Naamah when I came into the family. But that is known
only to me and Tubal-Cain. To everyone else, Naamah was born
first.
Tubal-Cain nods.
It is time I made my daughters work in the shop. You must
have your own families.
Perhaps our cousin Qayin would make a good husband . . .
The sound that comes out of Tubal-Cain reminds me of one
of the few times we went to visit Jabal among his tents and
livestock. One of his sheep was in labour. The peculiar exhalation
the ewe made that day is much like the sound my brother now
makes.
I will think of a suitable husband, says Tubal-Cain.
I sigh. This will not satisfy Naamah and will only make the
longing worse.
Qayin is family, I say, trying again. If Naamah finds him
attractive, perhaps he would be a suitable husband.
There are many ways a man can be attractive, says Tubal-
Cain, standing up. Our cousin is attractive in appearance.
He exits out the back door to return to the courtyard. The
implication is obvious. Qayin is only attractive in outward
appearance. He will not be Naamah's husband.

The apartment I share with my sister is quiet when I return in
the evening. She is still resting in her room. Why does she make
herself suffer like this?
I could share a meal with Tubal-Cain and his family, but I am
too nervous to eat. The knife is mine. I told Tubal-Cain as I was
closing up the shop that I had selected my present and he
absently wished me many blessings before hurrying upstairs to
his wife and children. His wife has not been pleased with his long
hours of work.
I go over to the glass that hangs on the wall and look at
myself in the mirror. My hand runs over my smooth face. It is
not unusual for young men to have smooth faces. It has crossed
Chapter Five
43
my mind that perhaps I should cut my hair and leave Enoch as a
young man, wearing the tunic and robe of my father. I do not
know what life is like beyond the city, only that life in the city is
not always safe for women. Is it the same among the Other
People?
But I hesitate to do it. My long golden brown hair is one of
the few features admired by people, though Adah says I look like
I sprinkle it with sawdust.
I sigh and decide to simply hide my hair under the robe.
Perhaps my greatest concern should not be the Other People, but
Semjaza, when it is discovered that I am gone.
I will not be able to carry the trunk with me, which is
unfortunate. It is the reason my father came to Enoch and it has
been the reason the manuscript is so well-preserved. The animal
skins will have to do.
Tomorrow is market day and it is the best day for me to go.
People will be milling in the gates and no one will notice one
extra person leaving the city. The thought fills me with sick
excitement. I am terrified to go, but now that I know the
manuscript belonged to my father, I cannot stay. I cannot stay
and wonder for hundreds of years who my father was. If I face
the wrath of Semjaza for going on this journey, so be it. But I
know one thing. It would be far harder to try to leave once I am
the wife in his home.
For now, I must sleep.

44

45
Chapter Six
t is hard to leave without saying goodbye to Naamah or
Tubal-Cain or to Zillah, our mother.
But it would not be wise.
When I know that Naamah is in the shop, I carefully make my
way down the stairs, past the door that leads to Tubal-Cain's
apartment and out onto the street. The marketplace is filling up
with sellers of produce. I hope that in the tunic and robe of my
father, my hair pulled back and under my garments, that nobody
will recognize me as the girl from the coppersmith's shop.
I carry two small sacks. One is for the manuscript. The other
is for my supplies. I have a change of clothes, one that is more
fitting for a lady. Also, some coins and other small metal items to
trade along the way.
First I must buy some food.
I stop in front of a blanket that is piled with loaves of bread.
Two are purchased and put in my sack. Then I stop for some
dried beans and finally, some dried fruit.
Though most people are coming into the city, the streets are
so crowded with traders and city people out to buy from them,
that I am not noticed when I exit through the large iron gates. It
I
46
is my moment of doubt. The iron gates where crafted by Tubal-
Cain and his men in the courtyard. I remember when they made
them. They worked on them for one whole moon cycle.
It is not too late for me to turn back. I have a handsome
husband to marry. A beloved sister and brother.
I hesitate.
There would be no repercussions if I returned to my
apartment now. I could simply sit there until my wedding day and
then live a life of comfort.
No.
I take a deep breath.
I will keep going.
It is fallacious to think that I will have a life of comfort with
Semjaza. And I will never be satisfied as long as I do not know
who my father is.
The roads outside of the city are slightly quieter but I
encounter so many travellers on the road that I do not have a
sense of having left Enoch behind.
I am now passing the golden wheat fields. In the distance, I
can see barley. The farmers stay close to the city and build their
homes with a mud brick that is a rougher version of the bricks
we use in Enoch. Close to the copper mines, are the furnaces for
the bricks. I have visited neither, but Tubal-Cain makes an annual
journey to the mines and tells us it is a different world. A far less
refined world than the comforts of the city.
I have only ever gone as far as Jabal's tents and then I was
always with Tubal-Cain or other people in our family. Jabal's tents
are well out of sight of the city, but I do not plan to pass by
them. It would be unlikely that I could pass by unrecognized.
So when I see the tents in the distance, I turn off in to the
forest that lines one side of the road. The forest is dense. It is not
easy to walk in it. And it is common knowledge that there are
animals in the forest and some of them have even been known to
lunge at a man. But I comfort myself by recalling that the
manuscript told of a time when our Father Adam named all the
animals and they lived in peace in the Garden. It would be a
greater comfort to me to know that I am in the presence of Yah,
who talked with our Father Adam in the garden. Our Father Cain
went out from his presence and I wonder at what point I will
return to it.
Chapter Six
47
That thought becomes my hope as I push through the brush
of the forest. Somewhere, there is Yah. I keep telling myself,
whatever hardship I face will be worth returning to his presence.
And all the time, I am aware that my journey has slowed to a
crawl and it increases the likelihood that Semjaza and perhaps
even my family, will soon be on the road parallel to me, looking
for me.
Jabal's tents are along a stream and I long to drink from it. But
I would be seen. The women are out washing clothing and the
green grass surrounding my half-brother's encampment is filled
with playing children who know me as Aunt Havilah.
I can only hope that there are other tributaries of the Tigris
up ahead.
The sun is high in the sky when I finally am able to return to
the road. I do not even know where this road leads. The forest
offered shade, but I am sure my hair must be full of twigs and
other debris. I remove the robe now that the sun is full strength.
My thirst has increased. There are no travellers on the road, but
in some of the fields that have been cleared, I see other people
who live as Jabal, with their tents and livestock.
My difficulty now, in addition to being thirsty, is that I have no
idea where to go. Where do Hawwa and Father Adam live? I have
no idea. But this is the only road to travel on. Which is not
necessarily good for me if anyone is following me. My route will
be obvious.
As the sun starts to move down, I am able to determine that I
am walking west. I am encouraged by this. According to the
manuscript, our Father Cain traveled east when he came to the
Land of Wandering. But for how long did he walk?
Cain and his wife have the most beautiful apartment in Enoch,
although it is their son, Enoch, who is the leading citizen. They
are a legendary family, being the parents of all of us. Lamech is
Cain's great-great-great grandson but I have never actually met
the patriarch of our city. He sits in the gate with the other elders
of the city and they talk. I do not know what they speak about,
though surely he has told them about his trek to the Land of
Wandering. I have met his wife, Awan, the eldest daughter of
Father Adam and Hawwa, but she is quiet about her journey.
As dusk descends on the land, the encampments dwindle and
I am left with only the stars. At least, I hope I am left alone with
48
the stars. The thought of animals in the forest makes me
nervous. Though small animals ran through our brother Jabal's
tents, I was never one to make friends with them.
The stars fill the sky and the half-moon provides enough light
for me to continue walking. I must continue walking until I come
to some water. Mercifully, at last, I come upon a small stream.
When I am refreshed, I can finally rest.
I must take to the forest though. If anyone is following me,
they will easily find me on the road. It would be near impossible
for anyone to search through all the woods.
I do not venture too far in and choose a small patch. The
temperature is slightly cooler now, so I wrap the robe around me
and try to get comfortable. It is certainly not my bed back in the
apartment, but then, I have never been this weary. Before I have
time to wonder what Naamah and Tubal-Cain are doing right
now, I am asleep.

Rustling in the leaves wakes me up.
I clutch the robe around me tighter and wish that I had
someone with me. Anyone. The bush is definitely moving. The
only merciful factor is that the bush is small so whatever is in
there must also be small. But Jabal once told us that some of the
most vicious animals he encountered were small.
I do not even have time to find a stick before the creature
pushes its head out of the leaves.
It is a tiny behemoth.
I have never seen such a thing. By it's very name, a behemoth
is a large creature, a giant lizard. Sometimes they are called
dragons. I would never want to meet such a creature. Some of
them are as tall as a three-story townhouse. Whenever one comes
to threaten Enoch, all the young men must go out with Tubal-
Cain's knives and arrows and kill it, lest it ravage the town.
Around the campfire, Jabal tells us frightening stories of when he
and his men have to go out with their sharpened spears and
confront one of these beasts.
But this one is a baby.
Nervously, I look around. Where is his mother?
The creature seems friendly enough. He cautiously moves into
the clearing. I think he might be hungry. Hastily, I pull one of the
loaves of bread from my sack and break off a piece. I toss it over
Chapter Six
49
to the creature. He takes a few steps forward, sniffs it and then
gobbles it down. I laugh. He is a cute little guy. Hopefully he is a
plant-eater and not a meat-eater.
We share the loaf of bread, though he is not impressed with
the dried beans. Then we both venture out of the forest for a
drink at the stream.
I do not know where our friendship will go from here, but the
little guy trots along beside me as I continue down the road.
I guess I had better call you Behemoth, I say. If Father
Adam thought that was a good name for you, then I do too.
His reply is to bark. It's squeaky and sounds as though he is
agreeing with me. As we walk along, I decide I like having the
company. But then he starts barking, a more serious yap. I
remember one of Jabal's wolves growling when we approached
his encampment. Which can only mean one thing. Someone is
either behind us or ahead of us.
But there is no one behind us. Which can only mean someone
is approaching us. There is a bend in the road and so I cannot see
anyone yet. I do not want to meet anyone who might pass it
along that they encountered a lone woman on the only road that
leads out of Enoch. Quickly, I duck into the forest. Behemoth
does not know what to do for the moment. He bounces along
between the road and the forest. I decide that this does not
matter so long as I can conceal myself. I have barely hidden
behind a dense bush when I hear voices.
Male voices.
All male voices. I am glad I am unseen as they approach. They
are talking and they sound high-spirited. Cautiously, I peek
through the leaves.
Behemoth is still hovering around the edges of the forest. But
this tribe of men barely give him a glance. I can see why. They are
not the type to be intimidated by a Behemoth of any size.
They are all a head taller than any man I have ever met, except
for Semjaza. Semjaza's brothers! I realize this as they pass by. But
there are so many! How could one woman be mother of them
all! Even Hawwa did not bear this many sons.
Edgy, I wait until they all pass. My estimation is that there
must be two hundred of them. Is Enoch prepared for this
onslaught? Certainly, no ordinary son of Cain will be able to
oppose them. I hope, for the sake of my brother and sister that
50
the brothers of Semjaza come in peace.
When they have all passed, I wait a bit longer to make sure
they will be out of sight when I return to the road. Behemoth has
loyally waited for me and we resume our walking.
What land lies beyond the Land of Wandering? Will all the
men be like Semjaza's brothers? Why have I never taken the time
to talk to the people who have gone beyond the city of Cain?
This journey would be less fearful if I had taken the opportunity
to talk to a trader when he came into the shop.
The road ahead is not lined with forest, but has hills on either
side. It would be a lot harder to have to hide behind a hill. I
would certainly be seen in the distance running up it. There are
sheep which suggests that people live somewhere among these
hills. This road would not be here if there were not some
settlements along it.
Behemoth takes an interest in the sheep, but not in a
carnivorous kind of way. He barks and even dashes in circles
around one of them. We pass through the valley leaving behind
some disconcerted sheep.

Behemoth turns out to be an excellent scout. When there is
no river, he finds ponds for us to drink from. When my food
runs out, he rustles around in the forest and finds some berries
for us. But I am still concerned.
The hills are past. The road has trickled into nothing more
than a path in the woods, and at times, I even wonder if the path
is only in my imagination. We have left behind the sons of Cain.
Now we are on the only path between the Land of Wandering
and the rest of the earth.
The trees almost obscure my view of the sun, but I think we
are still traveling west. It is important that I keep moving. I have
seen no people, but there have definitely been animal noises in
the forest. Behemoth sends them running with a sharp bark. I
wonder what happened to his mother? I imagine Jabal would
have a story to tell. Behemoth's mother probably disturbed his
encampment.
I have almost lost track of time and have to think carefully.
Have I spent three or four nights in the forest? Behemoth finds
some mushrooms for us on what I think is Day Four. But I feel
weary from continually moving without enough nourishment.
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51
I long for the juices Tubal-Cain's wife prepared back in
Enoch, though at the time I scorned them as drinks made for
children. I wish that I had brought more dried fruit. And I
wonder what will happen to all the food that was purchased for
my wedding.
Day Five brings me and Behemoth out of the forest to a land
of spacious fields. I stumble out of the trees and into the light of
the sun, my eyes almost stinging from the sudden shift from dim
to bright. Behemoth gallops ahead of me, to stretch his legs and
bark with delight. Then he runs around in circles and dashes back
to me. The little fellow is loyal. I pat his head. He has become my
best friend, curling up beside me at night and trotting along
beside me on the narrow path by day.
To my amazement, I see a settlement in the near distance.
Golden brown homes with smoke rising from fires in the front
for baking. These are Other People!
What will they think of me?
I try to run fingers through my hair, to pull out twigs and
whatever else may have ended up in it. I must look like a lost
sheep.
But there are still the fields to cross.
The fields must have once been forest because the houses are
all made of wood. Some of the houses of Enoch are made with
timber, stone and plaster.
The path ends here, suggesting that the traders have more
options once they reach this point. I look to the left and there is
another forest, to the right where there are some hills in the
distance. But the settlement is west, so that is where I head.
My first encounter with a person is a young man watching
some sheep. He glances at me with curiosity and his eyes go
down to Behemoth. I pat Behemoth's head to indicate he is
perfectly harmless.
Good day, I call out.
And God's blessing to you too, he calls back, nodding.
Behemoth gallops off to run circles around the sheep. The
shepherd keeps a watchful eye on him until Behemoth proves
himself not interested in devouring sheep, only in visiting with
them. No doubt the shepherd is used to other animals and is
quick to discern what is a threat and what is not.
He turns back to look at me. I imagine I must appear as the
52
weary traveller.
I am a stranger in your land, I call out, moving closer.
He nods. It is self-evident.
If it is refreshment you need, he says. Stop at the third
house you come to and tell my mother that Roeh sent you.
God's blessing on you, Roeh, I say.
And upon you, sister, he says.
The word sister stirs me. I have only known the word spoken
to me by the children of Cain. But, of course, we are all brothers
and sisters in our Father Adam.
Once I reach the settlement, there is a wooden walkway and I
walk past the first two houses until I come to the third one.
Hesitantly, I knock at the door.
A woman not unlike my own answers the door. She has
Zillah's high bone features and long dark hair, as well as her
natural slimness. But this woman has spent more time outdoors
than my mother. It has been a life of hard work. She looks strong
and unintimidated.
Good day, daughter, she says.
And God's blessing to you too, I reply. Roeh sent me . . .
She smiles.
Roeh's heart is for the stranger. Come in. She steps aside to
let me enter.
The interior of the house is full of light. It does not have the
luxury of Enoch, but the furniture is made of a solid wood. A
wonderful aroma is coming from somewhere. The lady glances
down at Behemoth who also wants in.
Not you! she says, laughing. But if you are good, your
mistress will bring some fruit out for you!
Behemoth takes this well and as the door closes, I see him curl
up in front of the door.
I am led to a couch lined with cushions and invited to recline.
It is not often that a single woman comes to my door, she
says. In fact, I do not think I have ever entertained anyone
except the traders that pass our way.
I nod.
The mother of Roeh goes through a doorway and reappears
minutes later with a tray. She puts it down on a table and hands
me a clay cup. I sip it cautiously. It is hot, but sweet and delicious.
This is wonderful, I say.
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She laughs.
That is the advantage of having a son who has a heart for
strangers. They bring wonderful things. This is cocoa. It is grown
by the sons of Seth.
My eyes widen.
I mix it with the sugar cane that also comes from the traders.
I believe it grows on the banks of the Gihon.
Where am I exactly? I ask.
Among the settlements of Dalath, she replies. We are the
children of the fourth son of Adam. And what brings you to us,
daughter?
I hesitate.
I am from Enoch, I say.
She looks at me carefully.
You do not look like a child of Cain, she says.
I do not think I should tell her too much. If traders pass
through here she might tell them about me and they might return
to Enoch with stories about me. Then Semjaza would be able to
follow my route.
Enoch is all I know, I answer, truthfully.
And why do you leave all that you know? she asks.
I do not want to tell her that my objective is to visit Hawwa,
just in case Semjaza makes it this far and is determined to follow
me right to the water's edge.
But my silence is an answer for her.
She nods.
The sons of men are not always kind to their daughters. Are
you married?
I shake my head, confirming her belief that I have run from a
cruel father.
Well, my daughter. Go in peace and go with Yah's blessing.
But I would advise you to find a settlement rather than wander
the forests and fields. It is not a dismissal because she then
offers me a platter of fruit and vegetable wedges and while we
eat she tells me about her children. Roeh is her youngest, the only
one who is not married yet. Two still live in this settlement but
one daughter has married into the clan of Zayin, seventh son of
Adam.
I comment on the loom in this spacious room. She says that
Roeh's sheep provide the wool for her to make cloth. The other
54
types of cloth available to the community are cotton, which is
grown from a plant. I tell her that we have that material in Enoch
but I have never actually seen the plant. The mother of Roeh
assures me that if we have cotton in Enoch it probably came
from Dalath and shows me a beautiful white shirt made of the
material. The community benefits from the traders, but it is
entirely self-sufficient.
After we eat, she ushers me into a private room and brings me
a basin of water to clean myself. When that is done, she tells me
that it is only a half-day walk to the settlement of Zayin and that
when I get there, I should ask for her daughter, Yafeh, who will
give me a place to sleep for the night.
She is the most beautiful woman in the town, says her
mother. Her husband is smitten.
I do not know whether this is to reassure me that if Yafeh
says I will stay, then I will stay. Or maybe it is just that Yafeh will
not be threatened by a bedraggled lamb like me and will surely
allow me to stay in her home. Either way, I am grateful for the
referral.
As promised, the mother of Roeh gives me a generous sackful
of fruit, both for me and Behemoth. Behemoth runs circles
around me in his delight to have me back and barks with pleasure
when I put an apple on the ground for him.
With a laugh and a wave, the mother of Roeh sends us along
on our way.
The settlement of Zayin is also west. Perhaps as I move
further away from the city of Enoch, I will be able to inquire
more about the children of Adam and where they all live in
relation to the Garden that lies alongside the waters.
The wooden walkways of Dalath are quiet but when I get past
the houses, the fields are busy. They too have wheat and barley, as
well as orchards of fruit trees. But I do not see any tent-dwellers,
or for that matter, any livestock. Roeh must have been the only
person to decide to herd sheep. The abundance of forest
suggests that anyone who needs animal skins for leather must
simply go hunting.
Behemoth and I must skirt the irrigation ditches which run
between some of the fields.
The mother of Roeh has instructed me to cross the fields and
then follow the river. With excitement, I realize, this must be one
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55
of the main rivers mentioned in the manuscript. When I come to
its shore, I am awed by its magnificence. Wide and flowing, one
could not wade through it as one could the streams I have
encountered so far. Perhaps this is the mighty Tigris.
Behemoth trots along its shore, barking and excited at
something new. He pauses, looking as if he wants to lower his
head for a drink, but is hesitant about its flow.
Go on! I say, laughing. Be brave!
He takes my advice and quickly ducks his head down for a
drink, but brings it up quickly when his whole face is covered. I
pause on the bank and dip my hand in for a drink too. With a
river like this, no one would ever know thirst.
The river is a draw for many more settlements.
I do not know whether these are still the children of Dalath.
The houses near the river are made out of the reeds that
abundantly grow on its banks. There are boats too, something I
have only heard of but never seen. The boats are made of reeds
and animal skins, which suggests that these communities have
hunters.
These settlements are more active than the one lived in by
Roeh and his mother.
The traders use the river and I quickly distinguish their boats
from those of the villagers. The traders have long enclosed
wooden boats. These boats are manoeuvred with oars. As we
continue to walk by the river, I observe that many settlements
have small docks for the boats to tie up at, so that the people can
all come down to the riverbank and do some bartering. We see it
happening at one town, though Behemoth and I stay clear of the
crowds and the boat. I do not want a trader who might recognize
me to report my whereabouts to anyone in Enoch. I wonder if
any of my brother's metal work makes it to these towns.
Finally, as the sun is going down on the horizon, I come to
Zayin. Some men are repairing their boats and kindly tell me that
Yafeh and her husband live in the village, in the largest house.
There is some laughing and joking about how Yafeh must have
the best and her husband is continually working to see that it is
so.
I have to ask for directions again, because, even in the village
itself it is hard to determine which house is the largest. Unlike
Enoch, none of them are more than one storey. But everyone
56
knows Yafeh and soon Behemoth and I are knocking at her door.
A small, bright-eyed boy answers. There is noise and laughter
from within the house. The boy considers his duty done and
hurries off to rejoin his brothers and sisters. Yafeh appears from
an archway leading into one of the rooms. I recognize her. She
has all of the features of her mother, but she is more filled out. It
must be all the children. The result is that she has surpassed her
mother in beauty, seeming to have a life that allows her both
leisure and activity.
Good evening, stranger, she says, wiping her hands on an
apron. I am afraid I have arrived while she is in the middle of
preparing the evening meal.
God's blessing on you as well, this evening, I reply. I have
come from your mother's home and she suggested I stop here.
Yafeh looks me over and welcomes me in. Even Behemoth is
allowed to trot along beside me. While Behemoth is very quickly
captured by a band of children who take him further into the
house, Yafeh lets me join her in a small courtyard where there is a
cooking fire.
Soon I am cutting up vegetables for a large pot of soup.
Yafeh asks me about her mother and Roeh and says that she
and the children must borrow a cart and go visit them sometime.
Roeh will not leave his sheep to come here, she explains.
Unlike her mother, she shows no interest in where I am from
or where I am going. She is content to have an extra hand in the
kitchen. When her husband comes in from outside with a basket
full of sandy spinach, she tells him to clean it himself, she and
her guest will be drinking beer in the sitting room.
Her husband is a large, good-natured man. He warns me
about drinking too much of his wife's beer.
She sweetens it with honey, he says, but it is poison to a
man to drink too much.
That is just nonsense, Yafeh tells me when we're sitting down
with a mug each of the beverage. It is merely a barley drink that
warms the stomach.
The children are romping on the floor with Behemoth. I
count at least five. I comment on the blessing of children, hoping
to steer the conversation to Hawwa, Mother of All Living. She
nods, absently. Evidently, this blessing comes easily to her.
Your mother says that Zayin is the seventh son of Adam, I
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57
say, trying again.
Yes, she says. My husband is a direct descendant of our
Father Zayin.
Does Zayin still live among you? I ask.
Oh yes, she says.
And that is it for conversation. Beer is a relaxing drink and we
sit and enjoy the children's play until it is time to eat. Yafeh's
husband has cooked the spinach wrapped in bread dough and
backed in the ashes of the fire. Along with the soup, it is a simple
but satisfying meal.
Then there is the chaos of putting the children to bed. I have
the option of sleeping in the courtyard or joining the girls in their
room. I take the courtyard. Behemoth and I are used to sleeping
outdoors.

In the morning, the same barley that Yafeh uses to make her
drink is now served in bread form. There is fruit to go along with
it. Yafeh's husband gets a sackful of food and a kiss before
departing to his boat and a day of harvesting reeds.
I cannot outstay my welcome. But I need a sense of direction.
I know with certainty that only Hawwa can help me. Only she
will know all the names in the manuscript. A mother knows her
children. Cousins can forget about cousins, but a mother
remembers.
I do not know where Hawwa lives, but going by the
manuscript, my family might be found somewhere among the
sons of Seth.
I seek the settlement of Seth, I say to Yafeh. She has kindly
provided me with a sack of food and refuses any of the coins I
carry. We are talking at her doorway now. Behemoth is running
circles around the children while they try to hug him goodbye.
She looks thoughtful.
Settlements, she corrects me. I have not seen them, but
some of the traders have. They have various places where they
have settled.
Why is that? I ask. She seems knowledgable.
I think it is because they call on the name of Yah, she says.
My heart jumps.
They build strange stone buildings to him, the traders say.
Tetrahedra, they call them. Three-dimensional triangles. I do not
58
know why they build them. I do not care. It is my husband who
talks to them. Yafeh shrugs and grabs the shirt of one of her
boys just before he is about to try to climb on Behemoth and ride
him like a pony. I am not sure whether it is for his safety or for
Behemoth's.
Just follow the river, she says, absently, picking up one of
her girls and brushing the dust off her tunic.
Blessings to you, mistress, I say.
Blessings to you, stranger, she replies before returning to
her home, a trail of children following behind her.
Perhaps it is the traders I should talk to. But as Behemoth and
I continue along the river, we do not encounter any by the shore,
even in the towns, although one of their boats drifts by. If they
follow the current of the river, they only need to steer. It is when
they go upriver that they need the oars. That would explain the
muscles on many of them.
The settlements by the river vary in that some communities
are using the water to irrigate their fields, while others seem
content to live off vegetables grown along the riverbank. With
one of the coins, I purchase some slices of watermelon, as well
as some barley bread.
It is not until evening that the landscape changes.
As the sun goes down, I find myself in a strange new world.
The river veers north, perhaps to join up with the other three
great ones. But ahead of me is a vast plain. And covering that
plain are exactly what Yafeh said, three-dimensional triangles.
Even in the dim light, I can see that they are solidly built of
stone.
But most mysterious is that there is no one in sight. This is
not a settlement, though it is obviously crafted by human hands. I
do not know where to turn. Follow the river? Or head across the
plain among the tetrahedra?
Behemoth makes the decision for me. He gallops across the
plain and circles a tetrahedron. It is a wide run for him and takes
him awhile to make a full circuit. By the time I have reached him,
he is tired of the game and wants to rest. We have our dinner of
bread leaning against the stone structure.
The plain is not empty of life. There are deer and foxes and
other creatures moving among the structures. Some giant lizards
even pass by, but they respectfully stay clear of Behemoth. They
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59
are different types, with crested heads and an ability to stand
upright. But they only pause on this plain. There are no trees to
feed on here. The plain has been cleared. So the only animals
who come are the ones who want a drink by the river or a
sheltered place to sleep by the stones.
Although the light of day is almost gone now, I can still see
that the stones that built these structures are enormous. They are
taller than Semjaza and twenty men could sit on them if they
wanted to. If these are not homes, what purpose do they serve?
Yafeh says they were built by men who call on the name of Yah.
Exhausted by the day's travels, Behemoth and I are asleep
right after our meal. It is the sun rising in the east that awakens
us. The light means a new examination of our surroundings.
There are hundreds of these stone structures scattered around
this plain. Some are colossal while some are more modest.
But it all does not help me know what direction I should go.
Where is the settlement of the people who created this
landscape?
Again, Behemoth makes the decision for us. He is thirsty and
gallops back across the plain to the river. I will follow the river.
Any settlement would probably be built along, or near, the river.
So we start heading north, along the bank, only to discover that
the river turns west again once it is in the forest.
And now there are signs of life.
A hunter almost shoots an arrow at us and calls out an
apology when he sees that we are human, not deer.
I accept the apology and raise my voice to carry among the
trees.
God's blessing to you. Am I among the children of Seth?
God's blessing to you too, the young man replies. Yes.
Which settlement do you seek?
For the moment, I do not know how to answer. Then the
genealogy comes back to me. Seth had a son Enosh and Enosh
had Cainan and Cainan had Mahalalel. Perhaps the sons of Seth
have settled according to their fathers. Enosh will be oldest
settlement.
I seek Enosh, I call back.
He nods.
Much further, he says. The children of Mahalalel are just
up the river. Refresh yourself among our people before you
60
continue your travels.
Then he is gone, among the trees.
I can hardly believe that I have located one of the names in
the manuscript!
When I come out of the forest to a clearing, I see there are
women getting water at the river. They are startled by Behemoth
but quickly realize he is small and harmless. One young woman in
particular takes a liking to him and crouches down to pat him on
the head.
When she straightens up, she introduces herself as Chayah.
Like me, her hair is lighter, the first person I have seen on this
journey with this feature. I introduce myself as Havilah and she
seems to recognize my name.
You have come far then, she says.
I have come far, I agree. I do not tell her that it is not
Havilah that I came from, but perhaps Havilah that I am going
to.
Chayah invites me to stop by their home for a drink and a talk
and graciously adds that I am welcome in their house for as long
as I like. I accept the invitation for a visit.
She is carrying two buckets of water as we walk back to her
home. I offer to take one but she refuses.
Chayah and I go into a spacious wooden home and Behemoth
is put in a courtyard to keep him from the forest where he may
be accidentally shot with an arrow. Chayah leads me back into a
room and offers me a sweet drink made of honey and the juice
from the berries of the forest. She joins me once she has
returned the jug to a shelf.
Chayah lives with her parents while her other brothers and
sisters have their own homes.
It is a young settlement, she tells me. Their father, Mahalalel, is
the patriarch, but they stay in close contact with the other
settlements of Seth.
Did your family build the stone structures on the plain? I
ask as Chayah and I sip our delicious drink.
She nods.
It is the obligation of the sons of Seth, she says.
How long did it take? I ask, curious.
We start a new settlement and then we help one another
build our star maps, explains Chayah. It will be the
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responsibility of my brother Jared to do the same, once he has
taken a wife.
He is your brother?
She nods.
My oldest brother.
I saw a man in the forest, I say. He told me to stop here.
That was Kenaz, she says. He is the second-oldest.
The stone structures are maps of the stars? I say.
Chayah nods.
We all have different portions of the sky. It is our plan to one
day map the whole sky here on earth.
I ponder this ambitious plan and before I can ask any more
questions, Chayah's mother has returned from the forest where
she was picking mushrooms.
She takes an interest in my travels and she and Chayah are the
first people that I partly confide in. I tell them that I am on a
journey to meet our Mother Hawwa. I grew up without a true
father or mother and would like to speak to her in the hope that
she will recognize my family among all her children.
She will know, says Chaya's mother, nodding. She knows all
her children.
Does she ever come here?
Oh yes, says Chaya's mother. Not often, but she comes.
She travels the rivers at certain times of the year. Father Adam
does not join her. He has his work. But all are welcome to visit
him. Often, the sons of Seth travel together to meet with him
and discuss Yah.
Chayah's father, Mahalalel, joins us. He welcomes me, a
traveler, and says that if I will be a daughter to him, he will be a
father to me. It is a blessing as well as a covenant and something
I rarely heard in Enoch. Though, in all fairness, Lamech never
treated me as anything less than a daughter.
I am inspired to ask him if he knows of anyone who wrote
down the genealogies of the sons of Seth. But despite that his
name is included in the manuscript, he says that he does not
know of anyone.
There is something warm and accepting about this family,
something that brings me a comfort I have never known. Chayah
treats me as a sister and very soon, her mother is treating me as a
daughter. Before I realize it, Behemoth and I have spent a whole
62
day with them, preparing a mushroom stew, getting more water
from the river, taking Behemoth for a walk in the forest once
Kenaz has returned with a deer and assured us he is done for the
day.
I am invited to stay the night and I accept. The home of
Chayah and her parents once must have held many children but
now only houses these three. So I have my own room. I wash up
and remind myself that I am on a journey and that I cannot stay
here.
But my heart tells me I have found a home with these people.

63
Chapter Seven
enaz is commissioned to escort me along the river to the
next settlement, the one of their father's father, Cainan.
Another name in the manuscript!
I apologize for taking him a day's journey away from his
home, but he is good-natured.
There are bears in the forest near my grandfather's star map,
he says. I would be happy to present my children with a bearskin
for them to play on.
Bears in the forest make me grateful that he has been given
the job to safely escort me. Along the way we talk.
He is married with three children so far and he is not even a
hundred. But his older brother, Jared, is still single. We pass by a
clearing and he points out a wooden structure. It is Jared's home.
Rough, of course, says Kenaz. A woman will improve it.
But the main thing is, there is a huge clearing on the other side to
make his star map. When he marries, we will all come to help him
erect his pyramids. A portion of the sky was assigned to him the
last time we gathered together with Father Adam.
Is it Father Adam's wish that the sky be mapped? I ask.
He laughs and shakes his head.
K
64
No. Our Father Enosh desired it. He is my great-grandfather.
He taught us to call on the name of Yah.
Why does Father Adam not make star maps? I ask.
Father Adam says he has talked to Yah in person and does
not need to recreate the heavens to have him near.
It is an exciting thought. Am I finally coming into the land
that is in the presence of Yah? Does Yah move among you? I
am almost scared to ask, but I must know.
No, says Kenaz. At least, not for some time. Even Father
Adam admits that Yah is distant now, though my wife tells me
that Hawwa says she sometimes gets a glimpse of him when she
is out in the fields. Out of the corner of her eye.
This is both encouraging and disappointing.
Father Cain left the presence of God. Maybe there is no
return.
The conversation turns to Kenaz's brother, Jared. Jared is too
shy with women, I am told. He will be two hundred before he has
a son.
Cautiously, I ask if there was ever a man among the sons of
Seth who lost his wife and was left with a child to raise. Kenaz
says if there was, he has not heard of it.
I ask about the animals in the forest.
Kenaz glances down at Behemoth and says there are a lot
more like him where Father Adam lives.
Father Adam is the only one who is not afraid of them, he
says.
They remember him from the Garden, I say.
Kenaz looks surprised.
You know of the Garden?
I nod.
Not everyone does, says Kenaz. But he is not the type of
man to pry. He has the hunter's way about him, not the curiosity
of the trader.
The Garden must have been forgotten by some of the
children of Adam, the story not handed down from father to
child anymore. And perhaps Hawwa does not feel it necessary to
refresh their memories when she travels to visit with her children.
I never would have known about the Garden if it were not for
manuscript. Father Cain and Mother Awan, to the best of my
knowledge, never spoke of it and I might have been the only one
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in Enoch who knew the real reason why they came to the Land
of Wandering.
Kenaz amuses me with stories of Father Adam's animals. He
is the only man Kenaz knows who has a lion for a pet. His name
is Ariel.
Kenaz shakes his head.
Even the small cats in the forest have claws and can be
vicious. None of us like to get too close to Ariel when we visit
with our Father Adam.
The only animal Father Adam cannot stand is the snake.
Kenaz does not elaborate, but he does not have to.
The sun is low when we see the settlement of Cainan. But
before we head for the town, Kenaz takes me on a detour to see
the star map.
Again, it is in a plain that has been cleared of all trees. The
trees were used to build the homes and I can see from afar that
many of them are two-storeys high.
The star map is breathtaking. It is even larger than Mahalalel's.
Kenaz walks us through it, naming the constellations as we move
among the five or six or seven-storey pyramids.
Yah has named all the stars, he says. But we must be
content only to name what we can see.
Are there stars we cannot see? I ask, surprised. Our sky is
scattered with so many stars I cannot imagine anything more.
Beyond the ones we see, yes, says Kenaz, now leading us
back toward the settlement. Our Father Adam walked with Yah
in the Garden and learnt much.
Much that has been forgotten, I say.
Alas, yes, says Kenaz, nodding. We call on Yah now. To
remember.
The children of Cainan welcome Kenaz and are quick to
inquire about the health of their brother, Mahalalel, and his
children. We are ushered into the largest house to stay the night
with Cainan and his wife, Mualaleth.
I would like to talk with them about the names in the
manuscript, but their oldest daughter quickly starts putting out a
spread of food. She and her husband live here. Her husband is
also a brother of Kenaz, so they have much to discuss while we
eat fruit and bread with a delicious bean dip.
The talk goes late into the night. Behemoth is allowed to sleep
66
in the courtyard while I get my own room. I hear the sounds of
children but no one disturbs me. When I finally wake up and go
down the stairs, I am told by the daughter of Cainan that Kenaz
has already left for home.
She is friendly, but busy. I offer to help but she shoos me
away. I am given a breakfast of dates and figs and some more
bread, along with a glass of grape juice. There must be a vineyard
nearby. I go out into the courtyard to find that Behemoth has
received an equally satisfying breakfast.
Then it is time for me and him to set out again.
I pass Cainan working in a garden abundant with vegetables.
What is your destination, daughter? he asks me, pausing and
leaning on a wooden fork.
I hesitate, but decide to answer honestly.
It is my desire to meet Hawwa, Mother of All Living, I say.
A worthwhile ambition, says Cainan, nodding.
I would ask you to advise me, father, I say. I have
journeyed westward. Should I continue in this direction?
He nods.
Follow the Tigris, daughter. When it diverges, go west and
follow the Pishon.
The Pishon! That is the river that skirts the whole land of
Havilah!
Then he tells me to hold out my sack. I obey and he fills it
with freshly picked vegetables.
I thank him and he tells me to consider his home my home.
After years on my feet in the store, you would think that this
walk would be easy, but I am using muscles that are new to me.
Today though, I feel stronger as I set out. There is an ache in my
calves, but it is not painful, only a reminder that I have come far
and still have far to go.
When Behemoth and I encounter another star map, we know
we are still among the settlements of Seth. This one is built on
both sides of the river and the Tigris itself seems to be part of
the map. The magnitude of this map is awe-inspiring. Both banks
each contain more pyramids than the previous ones combined.
But I am curious about the river itself. What does it represent?
My answer comes when I have already passed the map. An
alarming noise comes from the direction I am heading, a
trumpeting, and in my panic, I shoot up a tree. I did not know I
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was capable of such a feat.
The animals are grey, with white tusks and large flapping ears.
They are all heading to the river. Behemoth, at the bottom of the
tree, is in no danger and watches them with curiosity. When the
creatures are done, they return to the forest and I am left to
carefully make my way back to ground level. But I happen to
glance back, in the direction of the star map.
It is the Galaksya! The Tigris is the portion of the night sky
that contains the strip of light that Semjaza said was due to its
density of stars.
Safely back on the ground, Behemoth and I carry on. The
settlement that made the star map must be further back from the
river because it is not until late afternoon that we encounter
people. It is a trader's boat. They are taking a break from rowing
upstream and are in a rowdy mood. The way they eye me up and
down makes me grateful that I have Behemoth. He growls in
their direction and though they call out some comments that I do
not care to remember, they do not leave the shore. Had they
approached me, the knife in my sack would have come out.
It is not until the sun is going down that we encounter another
settlement.
It is barely a settlement, just a few homes scattered in a circle.
But their presence is explained by the fields surrounding them. (It
also explains the traders down the river.) In the fields is nicotiana.
I have seen it only occasionally in Enoch. The physicians use it to
dull the pain if a person injures himself. Once a copper worker in
Tubal-Cain's courtyard was taking it after he cut his arm by
accident. Except that he wanted to continue to take it once he
had recovered. Tubal-Cain said it was an addiction that some of
the farmers had outside the city. Those who grew it sold it among
their families, though they were really supposed to be providing it
for the physicians.
My intention is to keep going. Behemoth and I have slept
outdoors before. Except that a woman about my age comes out
of one of the houses and hurries down to the river to get a last
bucket of water for the day.
She is startled to see me and Behemoth.
Pardon me, sister, I say. We are simply passing.
Her eyes widen. I guess this is unusual.
But, no, she says when she has recovered. Please stay with
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me and my great-great-grandfather.
That is very kind of you, I say. But I do not want to
intrude upon your privacy.
I suspect these people are outcasts, perhaps children of Seth
who have strayed from the precepts of their community.
But I am wrong. The woman presses me to stay and I agree.
Behemoth is welcome into the home and I see very quickly why.
They allow their animals to be indoors. There is a small wolf in
their sitting room, tamed but incited by the presence of
Behemoth. He and Behemoth growl and circle one another, but
in the end, the wolf decides he is not threatened and returns to
his rug.
An elderly man enters the room and though surprised to have
a guest, quickly makes me feel welcome and inquires about my
journey.
I tell him I have been traveling among the sons of Seth,
intending to go as far as Father Adam and Hawwa, Mother of All
Living.
He nods.
We are all their children, he says. We are sitting on solid
wood furniture, well-crafted, while the woman, who has
introduced herself to me as Baat, is preparing us an evening
drink in another room.
Are you a son of Seth? I ask.
No, he says, leaning back. But I find this is the best place
to be. I am a son of Hey.
I recognize the name. The fifth son of Adam.
I want to ask him more but cannot risk being impolite. But he
wants to talk and tells me that he has been growing his nicotiana
almost since the beginning of time. His crop is purchased both
by traders and sons of Seth. The sons of Seth use it for
medicine. The traders, he is not so sure. He suspects they often
use it even when there is no pain to abate. All the other homes in
this tiny settlement are for his sons and their sons.
Baat comes into the room with a wooden tray. She has
prepared a drink unlike any I have every had. It is brown and
strong and although it is bitter, it lifts the spirits. Her great-great-
grandfather says it comes from a bean that they also grow in one
of their fields. They roast the bean and then grind it into powder
to pour boiling water over it. They do not think the traders would
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69
desire it, but their family enjoys the beverage.
The beverage not only lifts the spirits, it makes me feel more
awake, more alert. And so we talk late into the night. He tells me
about the sons of Seth and their star maps.
The star-watchers say the stars are great fireballs, but my
father says they are angels watching over us.
Perhaps both are true, I say politely.
He says he has watched the sons of Seth in their worship of
Yah. Each of the star maps has a location that represents our star
and the fire is built on that spot. Then there is dancing, a
complete abandonment of self.
They are aware of each other only to the extent of knowing
that others are also worshipping Yah. They are dancing
completely to him.
It is a vivid picture in my mind, although until now, I have
only known the dances of the children of Cain. They dance to be
seen by others. I lean forward. But what the man says next almost
makes me fall off my chair.
And when Yah comes, he dances with him.
Yahweh dances among them?
He nods.
He has. Not recently. But he has. It is unlike anything you
have ever seen. For the moment, he is lost in the memory. It is
beautiful to watch. Unlike anything you have ever seen, he
repeats.
Will he ever return? I ask, more to myself than to the man.
I have heard rumours that Yah moves among the settlements
of Seth, the man replies.

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Chapter Eight
leep does not come easily. Both the drink and the
conversation have left me longing, longing for something I
have never known and something I do not want to live
without.
But how can I ever hope to dance with the children of Seth
when the only life I know is as a daughter of Cain?
Despite my poor sleep, I want to set out early the next day. I
am eager to continue my journey.
But Baat's great-great-great grandfather gives me a disturbing
warning. I am entering the land of the flying lizards. He nods
toward Behemoth and says he will not be much good to me and
will probably cower behind my robes.
Over a breakfast of raspberries and bread and more of the
dark beverage, he tells me that he and his sons and their sons
occasionally have to defend their fields from the predators. I
think of the knife in my sack and ask what they use to defend
their fields.
Bows and arrows. The creatures are big enough that they are
hard to miss, even for the poorest shot. Not that it actually harms
them. But it does scare them away, for a time.
S
72
I wonder if I should just turn around and return to one of the
settlements. But if I did, I would never truly be accepted by
them. I would always be the foreigner. Until I know more about
the man who was the guardian of the manuscript, my father, I
will have to continue on.
I know from the manuscript that Yah made the heavens and
the earth. And it would seem that Yah's presence is among the
children of Seth, even if he does not always make himself
known. So before I set out, I whisper a request to the sky.
Yah, watch over me. Glancing down at Behemoth. Us, I
add. That is all I can think to say at the moment so, trying to
ignore the trepidation the old man's warning has created in me,
Behemoth and I continue on alongside the river.
But there are no flying dragons today, though I can easily
imagine them swooping along the plain. We are in fields of barley
although I do not see any farmers or settlements. I will feel better
when we are back to a sheltering forest. Past the barley fields are
some green hills. They seem like the perfect spot for a winged
dragon to make his home, high above the fields, so Behemoth
and I follow the river and go around the hills. What we see on the
other side causes us both to stop and just stare.
It is an impressive site to see two mighty rivers diverge. The
Pishon is the mightier of the two and the one I must now follow
according to Cainan.
But what is really stunning about the view is the biggest
pyramid yet. It stands solitary on a vast plain. I have never seen
such a large structure. Some of the apartments in Enoch were
four-storeys high, but this pyramid makes them look like toys for
children. It reaches into the sky and touches the clouds. I can
only imagine that it must touch the stars at night.
I am no longer alone. Unlike the star maps, where only the
animals moved among the pyramids, this plain has people
moving around, although they look tiny next to the structure.
There are men and women and cautiously, I approach an older
woman.
Good day, honoured mother, I say.
Good day, daughter, she says.
For a moment I do not know how to proceed and then I
realize what is happening at this site.
I have come to worship Yah, I say. And I do not know how
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it is done.
She nods, understanding.
Over there . . . She points to something I did not notice. A
large stone construction with a fire blazing on it. It is the altar,
she says. If one wants to, they can offer an animal to Yah as a
sacrifice. My eyes widen.
It is enough to call on his name, she says quickly. Are you a
daughter of Seth?
I hesitate.
I do not know, I say. I do not know my true father and
mother.
She seems content with this reply and says that she is a
daughter of Enosh, son of Seth.
Excited, I ask her if she ever knew of a man who wrote down
the genealogies of the sons of Adam and the sons of Seth.
She nods. Her husband is a scribe.
I explain that I think I am the daughter of such a man, who
lost his wife and only had me. And he died before I even had a
memory of him.
She looks thoughtful.
There have been other scribes, she says. But I do not think
I knew your father.
Where are the manuscripts kept? I ask.
In here, she says, pointing at the pyramid.
I am startled. I did not realize one could enter the structure.
It is where we keep all our maps and all our genealogies.
I think my father may have traveled to the city of Cain to
purchase a metal trunk to store the manuscripts, I say.
It is possible, she says. Although no one would need to do
such a thing now. The traders provide us with bronze and iron
items.
It is incredible to think that my brother's metal objects make it
this far.
Why is there only one pyramid? I ask.
Because there is only one Yah, she says, before drifting off.
As Behemoth and I circumvent the base of the pyramid, we
notice the entranceway. The doorway is set back and it appears to
go down underneath the structure and must come up somewhere
inside it.
But most people do not have their eyes on the pyramid, they
74
are either focused on the sky, or their eyes are closed in private
conversation. I have never done such a thing, but Behemoth and
I move far back from the pyramid and then I close my eyes and
do what the daughter of Enosh said, I call on the name of Yah.
Oh Yah, creator of all. Yah, creator of all the children of
Adam. Oh Yah, our Elohim. My Elohim.
Behemoth breaks the reverence of the moment with a bark. I
see why and stand in awe.
Across the horizon comes a mighty sight, one of the flying
lizards Baat's great-great-great grandfather warned me about.
Had I been alone, I would have shrunk in terror. But standing
among the sons of Seth, I feel a strange fearlessness, as if I am
seeing one of the wonders of Yah.
Each wing of the great dragon could cover ten men and his
body looks almost as large as Behemoth's mother, though it is far
more narrow and suited for flight. He swoops across the plain,
steering clear of the pyramid, while all the children of Seth stand,
watching. Behemoth is barking by my side, but I hardly notice.
When he has disappeared from sight, we all return to our
worship. But as awesome as this pyramid is and as wonderful as it
is to stand among the children of Seth, I do not feel that I have a
right to be here until I know who I am. And for that, I must
continue on.
Still heading west, Behemoth and I take a path through a
forest. I do not trust myself to be brave should I see the flying
dragon by myself.
Again, we have a night in the woods. There are smaller
animals that visit us. Small furry creatures that must have been
named by our Father Adam, but I am not familiar with. But they
do not threaten us and even if one cautiously moves closer,
Behemoth sends it off with a bark.
The night passes without incident and in the morning we
carry on. My supplies are gone so apart from a drink from the
Pishon, we do not have a breakfast.
When we come out of the forest we are in a bright world. The
fields are cultivated with all sorts of foods barley and other
grains, green lettuces, a wide assortment of vegetables. There is a
vineyard in the distance and an orchard beyond that.
I see an older man, who looks close in age to Baat's great-
great-great grandfather. He is working in one of the fields and as
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I approach he looks up and gives me and Behemoth- a smile.
Welcome to my fields, daughter, he calls out. God's
blessing on you.
God's blessing on you, esteemed father, I say. Do I walk
among the sons of Seth?
He laughs and puts down his gardening hoe.
You walk among the sons and daughters of Adam now.
My heart leaps as I realize who I am looking at.
Father Adam? I ask hesitantly.
He nods pleasantly.
I have not had the pleasure of meeting you, daughter, he
says. What is your name and from where do you come?
I am Havilah, I say, hardly believing that I am talking to the
father of all children. I have come from the city of Cain.
His eyes widen.
And how is my son, Cain? he asks and I think I hear a catch
in his voice.
He is well, Father, I say. He sits among the elders of the
city.
Adam nods.
He is respected by all, I add.
And you are a daughter of my son, Cain?
I shake my head.
I do not want to tell him that one of the sons of Cain killed a
young man, my father. He has carried enough sorrow with Cain
killing his other son Abel.
My father was a stranger, I say. He came to the sons of
Cain to purchase a metal trunk. My brother . . . I correct myself.
I mean, Tubal-Cain, is a skilled craftsman.
Adam is listening carefully. I did not realize that I would be
able to talk to him like this.
My father died among the children of Cain. He left behind a
manuscript and a daughter.
And you were raised by the children of Cain?
I nod.
God bless them, he says.
I nod again.
I was held in honour and raised as a daughter in the
household of Lamech. His son, Tubal-Cain is as a brother to me.
His daughter, Naamah, is as a sister to me.
76
But what brought you this far from your family and home,
dear child? he asks. Are you hungry? he adds.
Yes, Father, I am.
He nods his head to follow him. Soon we are all on a carpet
between the fields, drinking water and eating bread dipped in the
oil of olives, seasoned with field herbs.
And we are joined by Ariel.
At first, I am terrified. Behemoth growls in a way I have never
heard him do before. But Adam soothes both animals. Behemoth
gets a comforting pat on the head and Ariel is coaxed to sit down
beside Father Adam.
Adam asks me again why I have come so far.
I tell him that I have always known about the manuscript but
that it is only recently that I found out that it belonged to my true
father.
He nods, understanding. I have the sense that there is very
little that would surprise Father Adam.
I would have hesitated to make such a journey, I say.
Except that I recently became engaged to be married. But I did
not want to become entangled until I knew who I was.
When you know who you are, will you return to your
husband-to-be? he asks.
I am silent.
Why did you run away, daughter? he asks, gently.
I did not feel worthy of the love shown to me by Semjaza, I
say, trying to answer as honestly as possible.
Adam takes this in.
Semjaza? he says. That is an unusual name.
I nod.
He is an unusual man. He is not a son of Cain. He came
from somewhere else. He says he came from the stars. I laugh
but quickly realize Adam does not find it amusing.
From the stars, he repeats, more to himself.
I nod again.
He came to Enoch and I do not know why he chose me. I
only know there are women more beautiful than me.
Adam looks at me, appraisingly.
Perhaps he had a different reason. Tell me about the
manuscript.
I do better than that. I pull it out of the sack, unwrap the
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77
animal skins and hand it to him. He wipes his hands on his tunic
before accepting it.
It takes him a few minutes to skim it and when he is done he
looks at me.
If this manuscript is your father's, then you are a daughter of
Seth, he says. Only the children of Seth gather information like
this. They store it in that pyramid of theirs. They have records of
everything. I am sure that your father was sent to the city of Cain
to get the records of all the births there. To date, I do not think
anyone ever has.
He came to purchase a trunk, I say.
That would only be part of his mission, Adam assures me,
carefully returning the manuscript to animal skins and handing it
back to me. Only the traders visit Enoch and they do not care
about genealogies. But tell me more about Semjaza.
I tell Father Adam everything I can think of and it is my
impression that he is growing more and more concerned as I talk.
When I conclude with the story of Semjaza's brothers on the
road to Enoch, he shakes his head, though he does not speak.
When he finally does, he says, May I offer you advice,
daughter?
Of course, I say, leaning forward.
Do not return to Enoch, he says.
My eyes widen.
I do not ask why and he does not seem to want to talk further
although we finish our meal in a congenial silence.
When we are done and are back on our feet, I ask him if he
has any idea who my father was.
Hawwa would know, he says, confirming my belief that a
mother knows all her children. Or my son, Seth, would know.
You can find Hawwa beyond the trees. He points to some lovely
trees with white bark.
Father Adam returns to his fields, Ariel curls up for a nap and
Behemoth and I carry on. Our journey's end is just beyond the
trees!

Hawwa's home is made of cedar logs. Although it is two-
storeys high, it is larger than any house I have seen on my
journey. Even the richest people in Enoch did not have homes of
this size, although they had more luxurious dwellings. This house
78
is simple and welcoming.
Around the front are animals. No doubt they are the children
of the ones that accompanied Father Adam and Hawwa from the
Garden. Two tall-necked creatures with orange spots contentedly
munch the leaves of a tree. In the trees themselves are strange
hairy creatures that swing as they please from branch to branch. I
recognize some of the other animals. There are two small brown
bears, probably cubs. Some foxes. Some of the smaller lizards.
(Behemoth barks at them, a bark of greeting, I think.)
And there are children many, many children. Some of them
are playing in a large pen of rabbits. Others are having pony
rides. A couple of older girls are watching them from under a
shade tree while women come and go from the front door.
The ease at which people come and go inspires me to give
Behemoth a quick reassuring pat and then go up the stairs, across
the wide verandah and through the front door.
Inside, it is just as warm and welcoming with wood-panelled
walls and comfortable wooden furniture lined with cushions. I
hear laughing in another room and there is a delicious smell
coming from the courtyard. I follow the smell and find a group
of women around an iron stove. It is Tubal-Cain's craftsmanship.
I can hardly believe it. Seeing the familiar item in Hawwa's
courtyard causes an emotion to rise in me that I have not felt up
until this point.
Regret.
Regret for what I have left behind. Regret for losing a brother
and a sister. Who was dearer to me than my brother, Tubal-Cain?
And I start to weep.
Immediately, I am surrounded by sympathetic women and am
ushered to one of the comfortable benches around the edge of
the courtyard.
I do not know how it happens, but when my weeping abates,
there is a long-haired older woman seated on the bench beside
me. She is wearing an embroidered dress and has a shawl around
her shoulders. She reaches out a comforting hand and puts it on
my arm.
What is it, my daughter? she asks.
Even in my sorrow, I know I am talking to Hawwa, Mother of
All Living.
And I tell her my whole story.
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She listens without interruption, although I know my story
stirs emotion in her. She has not seen her son, Cain, since he left
for the Land of Wandering. The fact that I was adopted into a
family and loved by them encourages her. But the circumstance
surrounding my adoption disturbs her. When I tell her that it is
one of my brother Tubal-Cain's stoves in her courtyard, she
weeps with me. She speaks then, telling me she longs for the
children of Cain, though she has never been able to meet with
them. They are out of Yah's presence and she dare not venture
beyond the settlement of Roeh and his mother.
Having known the presence of Yah in the Garden, she is far
more sensitive to his whereabouts than any of her children.
Do you know my father, Mother? I ask.
She nods.
I do, daughter. You are indeed a daughter of Seth. Your
father was a great-grandson of my Seth. Enosh is Seth's oldest
son and leads the sons of Seth now. Enosh has a brother, Sofer.
He is the father of the scribes and is guardian of all the
documents and records that they keep in the Great Pyramid.
Sofer has many sons, but his oldest is your grandfather. The
children of Sofer all work with the documents and keep records
of all our achievements. That was probably why your father and
mother travelled beyond the presence of Yah.
To include the achievements of the sons of Cain? I say.
Hawwa nods.
A horrible thought occurs to me.
I was born outside his presence.
She nods again and holds my hand.
But you are back in it now. It is your mother who suffered
most by being out of it. When I bore my first son I called to Yah
and he gave me a child. But when she called out, he was not
there.
We sit in silence, sharing the sorrow.
What was my father's name? I ask, after a while.
Rasujal, says Hawwa, without hesitation. You say your
name is Havilah?
I nod.
I would be surprised if it is your true name. Perhaps it was
given to you because they believed it was where your father came
from.
80
What does it mean?
Your name means to dance. But alas, there is sadness
attached to it. The same dance can be an expression of pain. If
you would like my daughter, I can suggest a better name. Baraka.
It means blessed and it was the name of your mother.
Baraka, I whisper. The name of my own mother!
Baraka! I say, smiling. That will be my name!
Hawwa also smiles.
One of the women in the courtyard approaches and tells us
the food is ready. Hawwa holds my arm as we return into the
house and all the people present take a seat around a large table.
The children are called in from outside and they fill up all the
spaces, some on their mother's lap, others on couches, some even
on the floor.
Then some of the daughters of Hawwa bring out platters of
food. There is bean dip and bread. Bowls of fruit are put in the
centre of the table. What smelled so lovely turns out to be a
bread pastry with sliced apples baked into it. It is delicious and
unlike anything I have had in Enoch. A woman beside me tells
me it is sweetened with sugarcane and seasoned with spices that
Hawwa grows in her garden.
As I eat and the women talk around me, a picture is forming
in my mind. It is a picture of a young man who has just lost his
wife to childbirth and now has a newborn daughter to name. He
remembers the dances to Yah but he is out of Yah's presence.
And he is feeling the intense pain of losing his wife. Perhaps he
did name me Havilah.
Rasujal, I whisper.

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Chapter Nine
am invited by Hawwa to stay with her and Father Adam for
as long as I want. The rooms of her house are filled with her
children. Beside me is a mother whose husband died while
cutting down a giant oak tree.
The large table is filled at night. Everyday, Adam and some of
his grandsons or great-grandsons bring in fresh vegetables that
are turned into soup over the open fire in the courtyard. Tubal-
Cain's stove is used for baking the bread to feed the large
household, though sometimes it is used for sweet pastries filled
with apples or figs or dates.
Over the next few days, I learn how to cook. I never had the
chance, working in Tubal-Cain's shop. The daughters of Hawwa
show me how to bake vegetable cobbler in Tubal-Cain's stove. I
also make an aubergine dish with tomato sauce and bread
topping that is praised by all. Adam grows two kinds of potatoes
white and sweet. They show me ways to use both. There are
different types of squash. And all sorts of beans. I tell them
about the beans grown by the nicotiana farmer. Hawwa smiles
and says she has tasted the brew they make when she travels
down the river and stops for a visit.
I
82
I prefer to sweeten it with some sugar cane, though, she
says.
Here they drink a mint tea. Some drink it plain, others with
sugar cane. Everyone works hard here, but for those who are in
or near the house, there is a break for talk and tea in the
afternoon.
Adam has summoned Sofer to come to his home to meet with
me. Sofer is the guardian of the Great Pyramid and was probably
inside it the day I passed by. I do not know what to expect. I am a
little afraid to meet such a patriarch.
But when he comes the next day, I am not prepared for his
reaction to seeing me. First he looks at me, then he embraces me
and begins to weep.
Respectfully, most of the household keeps busy elsewhere and
it is only Father Adam, Hawwa, Sofer and myself in the sitting
room.
Sofer tells me that I am the image of his wife when she was
young. Hawwa nods. Rasujal was his great-grandson, but my
mother was also his great-grandchild. My parents were cousins.
She has chosen to take the name of her mother, Baraka,
says Hawwa to Sofer. For indeed, she is blessed.
Sofer almost starts weeping again and remarks that my mother
left behind the blessings when she left the presence of Yah.
Sofer is beholden to me for the return of the manuscript. And
the manuscript itself is part of a new story, the story of my
father's experiences among the sons of Cain. Sofer is a master
scribe and we start working on a document about the sons of
Cain right away.
I tell him that Cain was the father of Enoch, the reason our
city has that name. Sofer nods as he writes.
Enoch was the father of Irad, I say. Irad was the father of
Mehujael. Mehujael was the father of Methushael.
I pause to let Sofer catch up.
I glance at Hawwa. There is pain on her face. These are
children she has never met.
Methushael was the father of Lamech, I continue. The
man who raised me as his own daughter. He had two wives. The
first was Adah. Adah bore him Jabal and Jubal.
Now I am talking about what is most familiar and I go into
more detail.
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Jabal is the father of tent-dwellers and cultivators of
livestock. Jubal is the father of harp and flute players.
Sofer is writing all this down.
Zillah was the woman who raised me. She had Tubal-Cain. I
blink back a tear. He is the father of all workers of bronze and
iron. His sister is Naamah.
When we are finished, it is afternoon and one of the
daughters of Hawwa tells us that the mint tea is ready. Many
people want to visit with Sofer. But before he allows them to lead
him to the table, he embraces me one more time and tells me my
inheritance is among the sons of Seth. I am welcome to make my
home in any settlement among them and I must always come to
him if I have a need.
I nod and now we are both weeping.
But the tea is refreshing. Though afterwards, I must go
upstairs to my room and rest. It is Hawwa herself who comes up
to tell me that the evening meal is ready.
Mother? I say, sitting up on my bed, while she takes the
chair beside it.
Yes, my daughter?
There is a settlement I would like to return to.
Which one, my daughter?
The one of Mahalalel and his children.
She smiles and I might be imagining it, but I think there is a
sparkle in her eye.
You are welcome to do so, she says, taking my hand. A
child of Sofer will be accepted in any settlement of Seth.
I am not imagining it. Hawwa is pleased with my choice. She
sits, deep in thought, smiling. Then she nods.
Yes, my daughter. That is the place for you.

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85
Part Two

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Chapter Ten
pause in my raking.
Chaya has brought us out a sweet lemon drink to refresh
our thirst.
Mahalalel and I are expanding his garden. He loves my
aubergine and tomato dish and wants to include those vegetables
in his garden. Chaya wants some different kinds of mint for tea.
She is enchanted by the stories I am able to tell about Father
Adam and Hawwa and their household. She has never gone
further than the Great Pyramid where the Tigris and Pishon
meet.
Hawwa herself escorted me here to my new home. It was her
season for visiting her children and I was invited to accompany
her. The event brought out all the children of Mahalalel,
including the quiet Jared.
I remember the visit well.
Hawwa took a special interest in Jared, requesting that he
escort her to his home down the river. Jared blushed and they
headed off down the path.
Chaya was amused.
What is it? I asked her.
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Our Mother is giving him The Talk.
The Talk? I said.
She nodded as we returned to her father's house to continue
preparations for the evening meal. It was to be extra special with
Hawwa and there would be more people to feed. I was welcomed
back as a daughter and was relieved that they did not treat me as
a guest but let me immediately join Chaya in the courtyard to
help with the food.
The Talk, said Chaya. He is well past 150-years-old now.
He must take a wife. If one of her sons does not have a wife by
this time, Hawwa gives him The Talk. She and Adam were
instructed to multiply and she considers it her responsibility to
ensure that all her children follow in the practice.
Chaya and I had giggled, but afterward, I had kept an eye on
Jared. He had been thoughtful throughout the festivities and
Hawwa had been particularly attentive to him, seemingly
encouraging him. No doubt, it is a big event to choose a wife.
Today we are preparing for another special visitor. Our Father
Seth.
Chaya is experimenting with an oat and honey biscuit that she
hopes he will enjoy. I will make my aubergines and tomatoes,
though for now, I will have to rely on vegetables traded with the
settlement of Cainan. It will still be awhile before we have
aubergines and tomatoes.
Even Mahalalel is hurrying around his garden deciding what
will be appropriate for the visit. He will harvest some of the nuts
and the sunflower seeds for his great-grandfather's visit. His wife,
Dinah, has been preparing fruit, drying it in the sun to perfect its
sweetness.
Chaya has become a sister to me and we talk about everything.
She confides in me that at the time of Father Seth's visit, Jared
will announce his upcoming wedding. But she does not tell me
who his wife will be. I probably do not even know her.
Chaya laments that we will not be able to offer Father Seth
any mint tea, entirely convinced in her mind that mint tea
epitomizes all that is gracious. I laugh and say that her berry juice
is the finest I have tasted in my travels and will be a worthy drink
to serve our esteemed forefather.
When the lemon drink is finished, Mahalalel and I return to
our work.
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I have just finished planting another row of tomatoes when I
see a pair of feet beside me and hear the sound of someone
clearing his throat.
I look up and see Jared.
Standing up, I brush the dirt off my hands and smile. It is
unusual to see him here during the day. He spends all of his time
near his home, creating a garden and all the other things that
must be done before a settlement can be established.
I turn my back on Jared, thinking he must be here to talk to
his father. But his father just glances at him and returns to his
gardening. Bewildered, I turn and look at Jared. He is still staring
at me.
I have never really looked carefully at him. Like me, his hair is
the colour of sand. He is not as tall as Semjaza, but I have never
met a man who was. But nonetheless, among the sons of Seth,
Jared is tall. To say his face is handsome would be to detract from
the other features that distinguish him. He is most certainly shy,
but he is also serene, I think. Maybe even kind.
Baraka.
This is the first time anyone has said my new name. And up
until now, all Jared has done is nod at me in passing.
Would you care to join me for a walk?
Rather than protest at losing his gardening partner, Mahalalel
seems to be pretending that he has no awareness of this whole
exchange.
It would be highly impolite to refuse.
Thank you, Jared, I reply. Perhaps I should return to the
house and put on a new robe . . .
There is dirt on my robe, from where I crouched down to
plant the tomatoes. In addition, I am certain I have soil on my
face. My hands are filthy.
You look perfect, says Jared. And then he turns bright red. I
have never seen a man turn as red as Jared does at this moment.
I would be happy to go for a walk, I say quickly.
We start walking and I realize we are going in the direction of
Jared's house.
There is not much talk along the way. I make a remark about
the small furry creatures that run around the forest. He says they
are called squirrels. I comment that if our father Mahalalel is not
careful, they will eat all his nuts before our Father Seth arrives.
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Jared agrees.
When we arrive at his house, he takes me on a tour of his
estate.
Like Mahalalel, he has an extensive garden. He is particularly
proud of a patch of asparagus. None of his brothers have it in
their gardens.
I admire his orchard. It is an impressive mix of trees
peaches, apples, pears, almonds, hazelnut.
Whatever his shortcomings are socially, there is nothing
lacking about his industriousness.
The house itself is two storeys and sturdily built.
Then we take a walk through the forest on the other side of
his home. I gasp when we come out of the woods.
It is the plain where his star map is to be. The amount of
labour it takes to create one of these is evident in even this
earliest stage. The field is covered with felled trees. That would
explain Jared's muscles. I have no doubt that the head of his ax
was purchased from the traders and made by my brother, Tubal-
Cain.
My brothers will come and help me move the trunks, he
says to me. It is not something one has to do until one is
married. But I wanted to start.
I nod.
But Jared is ill at ease. I do not think I have ever seen a man in
such distress. It puts me in mind of the way Naamah used to
look . . .
Love!
I look at him more carefully. The signs are unmistakable. Jared
looks ill. I have only seen a man ill once. It was in the tents of
Jabal and the man ate some berries that were inedible.
I think fast and make a quick decision. The right decision.
It is awe-inspiring, I say, looking out over the future star
map. It will honour Yah.
Jared relaxes slightly.
Your house is well-built and you have created a beautiful
estate, I continue. There would be no finer place to live.
I am so relieved you said so, says Jared, now actually starting
to look normal. I have brought you here, that is to say, I am . . .
Well, it is hard to find the words . . .
I try to look encouraging.
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Will you be my wife? he blurts out.
It is a decision I only made a moment ago, but I answer
without hesitation.
Yes, Jared, I will be your wife. And you will be my husband,
I add. In the city of Cain, it is important to establish the terms of
agreement from the start. I do not know how it works in the
settlements of Seth, but if a wife does not speak from the start,
the arrangement is subject to change. I have agreed to be his
wife, implying that I will take no other husband. If he agrees to
be my husband, then he is consenting to not take another wife.
I will be your husband, he says, taking my hand.
Then he takes me around the future star map. He has already
mapped out where the different pyramids will go. I ask him what
portion of the sky is his and he points to a spot overhead.
It will be our great-great-grandchildren who finish mapping
the sky, he says. I pray I live to see it.
That is the uncertainty of death. We know it exists, but few
people have experienced it. We do not know if it will come upon
us as a result of a foolish accident, or whether Yah has some
other way of bringing it about. Our father Adam has lived for
over 400 earth cycles around the sun.
Now that we have settled the issue that we will be husband
and wife, Jared is more relaxed. He is still a quiet man, saving his
speech for significant observations. But I appreciate this quality.
The sons of Cain would often sit and drink wine and fritter away
the evenings with insignificant subjects.
I must return you to my family, he says. Will it be
acceptable to you to save the announcement of our upcoming
marriage until our Father Seth arrives?
Of course, I say. And I rejoice that when I meet our Father
Seth for the first time, it will be as your wife-to-be.
He takes my hand for the walk back and although most of it is
in silence, it is not uncomfortable. I inquire about some of the
plants in the forest and he points out to me all the ones that can
be used for food. He picks a handful of delicate green leaves and
tells me to add them to the pot tonight and everyone will praise
the meal for its flavour.
Jared gives me a courteous God's blessing when he leaves me
at the edge of the clearing that is Mahalalel's settlement.
Although I return to the house and say nothing, Chaya is ecstatic.
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She knows but she wants to be sure.
When we are in the courtyard preparing the evening meal she
inquires about my day.
Most pleasant, sister, I say.
More pleasant than usual? she inquires eagerly.
Yes, I would say so.
She beams.
Dinah, her mother is also hovering around with a smile on her
face.
He is quiet, of course, but he has many good qualities, says
Chaya.
Who? I ask, pretending ignorance.
I burst into laughter at the look on Chaya's face. That is when
her words come out like a raging river.
My brother, of course! He has loved you ever since he laid
eyes on you, but he was too shy to speak and mother and I have
been so in despair over his silence that we nearly did all the
talking for him . . . !
Your brother spoke well, I assure her.
Chaya looks pleased.
If it is so, it is because I have been helping him.
We return our attention to the pot. I add the leaves that Jared
picked in the forest. When the soup is served, Jared is right.
Mahalalel demands to know why it tastes so good and when he
finds out, he announces that we will take an excursion into the
forest to dig up some of those particular herbs to transplant into
his garden.
Chaya and her mother confer with one another after the meal
about the upcoming wedding. I gather I will have very little to
worry about with both of them planning everything.
Mahalalel pretends to know nothing about what they are
talking about and says that if there is going to be a wedding, it
will be announced when Father Seth arrives. The message is clear.
The wedding should not be discussed until the engagement is
announced.
But there is no stopping Chaya and her mother. Mahalalel
sighs and invites me to join him on the porch for a cup of lemon
tea.
My son is a good man, he says to me, when we are seated.
Despite that it is not official, he seems willing to talk. He fears
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Yah.
I know, I say. That is why I have no concerns.
I am glad to hear you say it, daughter.
Of course, they all know I abandoned one husband-to-be in
Enoch.
My heart is here, father, I say to him. Yah is here.
Mahalalel shakes his head.
Yah is not here, but perhaps he will return to us.
The people of Yah are here, I say. I will wait with them for
him to appear.
Mahalalel nods.
Well spoken, daughter.
We sip the tea as some of the forest creatures move into the
clearing. Mahalalel abandons his tea to shoo away a small rabbit
who tries to sneak a carrot from the garden.
Father! I cry out, laughing. He is only a baby! How much
can he eat?
He will return to his family and tell them that Mahalalel's
garden is available for all to enjoy, he replies.
I will go get Behemoth, I say, standing up. He will enjoy
chasing away the creatures that try to visit the garden.
I go inside to the courtyard. That's usually where I find
Behemoth, who is spoiled by the entire household with samplings
of food. He is still a companion to me and sleeps at the foot of
my bed.
Behemoth is a willing guard of Mahalalel's garden. He spends
the remainder of the evening dashing toward the forest and
trotting back to me for a pat on the head every time he chases
something away.

Our Father Seth is a kind man who spurns all ceremony.
He arrives on foot accompanied only by one of his younger
sons. They are touring all the settlements of the eldest sons. He is
embraced by Mahalalel and then we are all lined up so that he can
greet all his children and meet any new additions to the family.
I am greeted with special warmth. I think it has somehow
been conveyed to him that I will be Jared's wife and thus, the
mother of a new settlement.
A lavish meal is served outside the house and then we all
convene to Mahalalel's star map.
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Jared, though quiet, is always at my side when he is here at his
father's settlement. He leaves me only to assist his brothers in
chopping down a tree from the forest. Soon there is a fire blazing
among the pyramids.
I quickly realize that this will be an evening of talk, not dance.
But I learn much just by listening.
I gather that Seth carries the burden of being the replacement
of Abel. Here, among the sons of Seth, Abel is discussed. His
acceptable sacrifice to Yah is contrasted with Cain's unacceptable
one. And so, they conclude, the children of Cain continue to
offer unacceptable sacrifices to him.
My heart breaks to hear the children of Cain discussed in this
way. Because no one except me has lived among them, it is
natural to think that they do not fear Yah, even now. But the
children of Cain do not know Yah and I am shy to point this out.
I think Tubal-Cain would fear Yah if he knew him.
I muse on the reason for this loss of knowledge. I think
shame caused Father Cain not to pass on the knowledge of Yah
to his children. Shame at having failed Yah, and no doubt shame
at the knowledge that he brought it upon himself. Father Cain
was devastated to leave the presence of Yah. It is a burden no
son of Seth could imagine.
Seth is at the centre of the talk, but all participate.
Abel was the first righteous man.
As honoured as Father Adam and Hawwa are, it is freely
discussed that they made the wrong choice in the Garden.
Hawwa was deceived and Father Adam deliberately chose to do
what was wrong.
Around the fire, all discuss this. No one is arrogant enough to
think that he or she would not do the same.
But Abel pleased Yah, and lost his life when his jealous
brother killed him.
Father Seth points out that the only reason this has not
happened again is that no one, not even those among his own
children, serve Yah with the heart that Abel did.
Abel, father of none. Seth laments his brother's lack of
progeny. He says that since our Mother was given him as a
replacement for Abel, we must all be Abel's children too, and our
lives must honour his memory.
There is much nodding around the huge fire.
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Seth stays with us for many days and goes for leisurely walks
with everyone in his family. I, too, get to visit with him. Jared and
I walk through the forest with him, arriving at Jared's settlement
and ending up at the future star map. The final night of Father
Seth's visit will be here and that is when our engagement will be
officially announced.
Once seated on one of the logs scattered in the field, Father
Seth turns from the topic of life at Mahalalel's settlement and
asks me to tell him my story. No detail is too small for him. He
craves all news of his Rasujal, his lost great-grandson, and cries
gently when I tell the story that I only recently heard myself, the
story of how Lamech killed my father for injuring him. He
acknowledges, however, that though the sons of Cain are without
Yah, I was well treated.
Like Father Adam, the presence of Semjaza and his brothers
in Enoch is disturbing to him.
We have genealogies of all the children of Adam, except for
Cain, he says, But I know of no one named Semjaza. Now, if
he were a son of Cain, it would be understandable because no
one since Rasujal has ventured there to gain knowledge of the
children of Cain. But Semjaza and his brothers are not from
Enoch.
I feel a chill.
Oh Yah! Seth suddenly cries out.
What is it, Father Seth? asks Jared. He does not like the
story of my engagement to Semjaza, but in all fairness, he knows
I had very little to do with it.
Think, my son! says Seth turning to him. If they did not
come from the earth, where did they come from?
Surely it is not possible that Semjaza and his brothers really
did come from the stars? says Jared.
Did he ever speak of his mother? Seth asks me.
I shake my head.
No, only of his father.
The father that dwells among the stars, says Seth grimly.
Why would they choose to live among the children of Cain?
asks Jared.
They seek a city as far away as possible from Yah, says Seth.
We still have his sheltering presence here. Though often it is
unseen.
96

97
Chapter Eleven
he sobering thought that those other than the children of
Adam also inhabit this earth is not enough to diminish the
festivities of the final night of Seth's visit.
The bonfire, fed by some of the large felled trees, is as bright
as the sun, though the sun has long since disappeared below the
horizon.
It is no surprise to anyone when Seth announces mine and
Jared's engagement, but now everyone can offer their
congratulations. And even more importantly, plans for the star
map can now begin. Even tonight, large trees have been
rearranged by Jared and his brothers to mark the locations of
some of the brighter stars. Jared himself has spent many nights
out here, making a map on animal skins, so that all the stars in his
portion of the sky will be represented on the ground.
The wedding itself will take place at Mahalalel's star map
though. It will be our son who someday gets married here when
Jared's map is complete.
Chaya and her mother are already talking about the wedding,
set for the next full moon. Seth assures us that Sofer will attend
the ceremony. This generates some talk. Sofer is rarely seen
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98
among the sons of Seth, known to spend most of his time in the
Great Pyramid, but as a direct descendant, I can expect him to
attend my wedding.
The possibility that Father Adam and Hawwa will attend is
also high. Though they now have too many descendants to attend
each wedding, everyone hopes that they might make the journey
for this one.
Dinah, my adopted mother, sitting beside Mahalalel who is
beside Seth, puts forth the worry that Semjaza may show up too,
to claim his wife-to-be. She has a full scenario worked out in her
mind. The nosey traders will inquire about who is getting married
and pass the news up and down the river and even as far as
Enoch. Semjaza will hear of it and come here to drag me back to
the city of Cain. Chaya is rolling her eyes, but I can tell she is just
as concerned. I am grateful that Jared is far out of hearing-range,
out beyond the light of the fire, discussing the star map with
Kenaz and his other brothers.
Seth quickly dismisses the fear as absurd. Semjaza and his
brothers have chosen to be outside of the presence of Yah. They
will not be venturing into the settlements of Seth.
Though this is encouraging to Chaya and her mother, it is
unsettling for me to think of Naamah and Tubal-Cain back in
Enoch with Semjaza and his brothers. As much as I longed to
make this journey to find my true father's family, part of me
wants to make the journey back.
But it is only part of me.
Having come this far and returned to a land that still knows
Yah, I know I cannot go back. In many ways, Chaya and I are
closer to each other than Naamah and I ever were. Chaya is
strong-spirited. She does not overly concern herself with her
outward appearance and seems indifferent to marriage, although
Mahalalel will no doubt choose a cousin for her to marry at some
point.
But as it turns out, I do have an opportunity to hear news of
my family back in Enoch.
The next day, Seth returns to his settlement and preparing for
my new life with Jared begins. Chaya and her mother will plan the
wedding. I am content to leave all details of the day to them. But
Jared is eager to have my participation in making ready our new
home. The exterior is solid wood and built with care. But the
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interior is nothing more than wood floors, a few shelves and a
bed. Up until now, he has been content to cook over an open fire
in the courtyard, but I insist that if I am going to prepare him all
the meals I have learnt to make, I will need one of Tubal-Cain's
iron stoves.
Of course, Tubal-Cain never actually made the stoves. They
were made by the craftsmen in the courtyard in order to keep up
with the demand.
Jared says we will go out to the river and flag down the
traders. Mahalalel's settlement is not a regular stop for them, but
if you want to purchase something, you simply have to wave for
them and they will dock.
Of course, it may be a long wait by the river. We pack some
fruit and bread and Jared does not seem to begrudge the day
away from his garden and future star map.
By the riverbank, we enjoy the sights and sounds of the river.
There are animals on the opposite bank coming from the forest
for a drink. Jared says they know better than to cross the river lest
they end up as a rug for Kenaz's children.
It is thanks to his brother that Jared has so many animal skins
to write on. He repays his brother with vegetables. Most of the
animal skins are traded to the children of Sofer to use for their
records.
Jared has time to show me how to weave a basket with the
large reeds growing nearby. He confesses that this is the first time
he has actually made one, but as a boy, he used to watch his
mother do it.
Then, coming down the river, we see the large wooden barge.
When it gets closer, Jared stands up and waves for them to stop.
The stove will be expensive but I have brought all the coins I
still have from Enoch. I did not need most of them on my
journey here since people were so generous.
The knife I will keep as a present to give to Jared on our
wedding day.
The traders stop at a rough wooden dock and I am grateful to
have my tall husband-to-be with me. They look like the same
men who eyed me on my journey to Hawwa. But today it is all
business. We are gratified to find out that they have an iron stove
and we will not have to wait until their next visit.
We would have surely sold it somewhere along the river, the
100
headman assures us. You are fortunate.
It is typical of the traders to refer to fortune rather than to
Yah. I think only the records in the Great Pyramid could actually
tell you whose children these men are. They seem to no longer
care themselves.
My coins are recognized as being from Enoch and that gets
the headman talking about current events in the city.
I can tell that Jared would just tune out everything the man
has to say, make the exchange and walk away with his stove. But I
am curious.
I inquire about the health and prosperity of the people of
Enoch.
The headman nods with approval at my interest. One of the
main perks of their profession is that they can pass news on to all
the communities, although I doubt too many of the sons of Seth
ask about the health of the sons of Cain.
They are preparing for a wedding, he says. The biggest one
the city has seen for years.
Jared and I look at one another.
Blessed be the couple, I say. Which family is preparing for
this joyful occasion? I hope my voice is steady and casual.
It is the household of Lamech, says the headman. I have
never seen such preparations. He shakes his head. My return
trip will be entirely filled with supplies for their celebrations.
Only my sister, Naamah, is unmarried in our family. So it must
be her wedding. Is it possible she will have our cousin Qayin after
all, or did Tubal-Cain find someone more worthy?
And the family of the groom? I ask. Are they kinsmen?
Oh no, says the man. I doubt very much the celebrations
would be so lavish if it were just a family wedding. The groom is
most esteemed.
I have a sick feeling in my stomach.
Is the groom a son of Cain? I ask, still trying to sound as if
it is all just indifferent gossip to me.
Mercy no, says the man, as two of the traders come up from
below carrying our stove. My Jared will be able to carry it himself.
He is an outsider, the man continues. No one knows the
name of his father, but he is known as Semjaza.
My hands go cold.
He has brothers and the house of Lamech will only be the
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first to celebrate a wedding of one of their daughters to the
clan.
The traders are ready to move on. The stove now stands on
the riverbank. There are far more populated stops to make along
the river. Before they push away though, I ask the man if he has
any cotton from Dalath.
He nods and with my last few coins I purchase a large piece
of the material.
Jared and I walk back to the house in silence. He has heard
every word the trader said and I know he is sympathetic to the
effect it has on me. From his perspective, it is good news.
Semjaza will never make a claim on me since he is now violating
our engagement by marrying another. It is clear that Naamah is
replacing me. I wonder how it came about and hope dearly that it
was not a matter of appeasement or family honour. I also wonder
about my sister. Is she a willing participant in this? There is no
doubt that Semjaza exceeds Qayin in manly qualities but will his
strength be a blessing or a curse?

But I have my own wedding to think of. I am using the cotton
to make a dress, although it is more accurate to say that Dinah is
helping me to make the dress. Chaya is impressed with my choice
of material and says that if she ever gets married, she will choose
cotton for her dress too.
As exciting as it is to prepare for marriage to Jared, it is even
more exciting to find out from Chaya that a wedding among the
sons of Seth always involves a dance to Yah. For among the sons
of Seth, a wedding is not a reenactment of the relationship
between Father Adam and Hawwa, it is a celebration of the
oneness of Yah. Father Adam has taught his children that when
Yah made man and woman, they were made to resemble him. A
man and woman, together, are made in the image of Yah.
On a more mundane level, our house is slowly filling up with
furniture. Now that Jared is going to be married, everyone makes
something for our home. Items come from not just the
settlement of Mahalalel, but from Cainan as well.
Chaya and her mother make a beautiful bedspread. Mahalalel
has made some elegant wooden benches. Countless reed baskets
now fill our kitchen.
Mahalalel insists that I no longer assist him in his garden. I
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must help Jared in what will soon by my own garden. And
Mahalalel says with a twinkle in his eye, his garden will amply
supply us with mint for tea at my wedding.
Behemoth still trots around beside me everywhere I go. And
that gets me into trouble a week before the wedding.
Jared insists on coming early every morning to his father's
settlement to retrieve me. I tell him I will be happy to make my
way there by myself but he says he does not want me to fall into
the hands of violent men.
But Jared, I say. I travelled all through this land and
encountered no one who did me harm.
You were under Yah's protection, he says. There is no
other explanation for it.
We are among the sons of Seth, I protest. They all call
upon the name of Yah.
Not all of them do, he stubbornly insists. And not all who
travel along the river are the sons of Seth.
I remember the feeling of discomfort I had when the traders
were looking at me. I almost tell Jared no one ever accosted me in
Enoch but then I remember how Tubal-Cain did not want me
out in the streets at night.
Seven days before our wedding, Jared is too busy with plans
for the star map to come get me. Mahalalel will not let me help in
the garden and Chaya and her mother shoo me out of the
courtyard. They have this crazy idea that I should get a lot of rest
before my life with Jared.
But I really want to be with Jared this day. I have mint to plant
in my own garden and weeds that need pulling out.
Behemoth barks at me as I aimlessly wander outside and I
look down at him.
He was such a faithful companion on our journey here and I
know he will protect me from any harm.
So I decide to walk there on my own with Behemoth as my
escort. I will not walk directly along the river but will cut through
the forest. Only sons of Seth use the forest path. Any stranger
would take the river path.
I set out carrying some of the mint plants and within minutes
of entering the forest can no longer see the settlement of
Mahalalel. The forest is a different world. Kenaz would normally
be here somewhere but today I know he is with Jared. The next
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few years will be entirely devoted to Jared's star map. Anyone not
doing the actual work will support the workers, providing them
and their families with food. Some of the blocks at the base of
the pyramids will be one hundred tons in weight. The stone is
supplied by the children of Seth's third son, Avanim, who have
quarries in several locations running parallel to the settlements.
They are not close enough to the river to transport the stones by
boat, so for each new settlement, a path must be cut through the
forest to bring in the stones. That has already started, but I will
not see any of it from the direction I am coming.
That is why I am startled when I hear voices, angry male
voices. I am about halfway to Jared's settlement and in the forest,
not on the path, is a trio of men. My first instinct is to turn back.
But Behemoth barks.
The voices stop. The men turn and see me.
Now it is too late.
Behemoth has gotten bigger in the short time we have been
friends but he is nowhere near the size of his mother. He is only
up to my shoulders. Three men with spears could easily bring his
young life to an end. But these men do not have spears. They
have knives.
To my horror, I realize the knives are dripping with blood and
the reason is the crumpled form on the ground. I cannot even
tell whether the person on the ground is male or female, only that
blood is seeping onto the leaves and into the ground.
I turn and run.
Yah, Yah, Yah. It is all I can say. I do not know if he can
hear. I only know that no one else can save me, not Jared, not
Mahalalel and certainly not Behemoth galloping along beside me.
He is not running away, he is only trotting along to keep up with
me. And he almost causes me to trip.
Behind me, I can hear the men.
Their words are a blur of imperatives.
Get her!
Stop her!
Faster, you fool!
But I am running for my life.
It becomes too hard to gasp out to Yah.
But I start to think I may have the advantage. I know the path.
I am lighter on my feet. But then a knife whizzes by me.
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Not able to stop me, the strategy is to kill me. I realize this
with fresh terror.
To Behemoth, it is just a game of tag. The knife means
nothing to him. I make an instant decision to just keep running
and ignore the knife. The path is too narrow to dodge from left
to right so as I run I am an easy target if these men are skilled
with a knife.
If I were close enough to our settlement to yell, I would use
my last breaths to call for help. But it is too great a distance to
hope that anyone would hear me at this point.
No second knife comes but I will be an absurdly easy prey
when I collapse. Although I have gained slightly, the men behind
me have the same amount of endurance and it is only a matter of
time before I collapse and am faced with three men. Even if
Behemoth can occupy the attention of one man, my prospect of
coming out of this unscathed is low.
If only Kenaz were somewhere in these woods! His bow and
arrow would quickly put an end to the men chasing me, or at
least scare them into turning around.
It occurs to me that if I get out of this alive I will be too
ashamed to tell Jared about it. After all, is this not exactly what he
warned me about?
Oh Yah! I gasp one more time, remembering Jared's
insistence that only his presence was what kept me safe in my
journey.
With that, I feel myself on the edge of collapse.
I run . . . and run . . . and run. And drop.
Behemoth immediately falls on top of me and licks my face.
He thinks it is just good sport.
I can barely breathe. I can hardly be bothered trying. In only a
few moments, the men will be upon me and I will die out here in
the forest, too far from anyone who can help.
But minutes pass and no one appears above me as I lie on my
back, gasping.
I manage to sit up slightly and realize . . . I am alone.
Only Behemoth is with me. The men are gone.
Quickly, I get to my feet. It is possible they are only waiting
out of sight, perhaps behind a tree.
I must keep going.
I stumble forward, on the verge of falling again, but I keep
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going. I keep going until I am back within sight of Mahalalel's
settlement. Nervously, I look behind me.
Now I can yell if I want to and at least there is the hope that it
will be heard. In fact, I can see Kenaz's eldest son at the edge of
the forest, practising with his bow and a few arrows.
I must be thoroughly dishevelled and I do not want to arrive
back home and announce that I blatantly disobeyed Jared's
instructions.
I slow down only slightly, enough to try to fix my hair and get
my breath back.
Kenaz's son spots me and I try to call out good-naturedly,
Careful! I am not a deer!
He smiles and waves his acknowledgement but mercifully
shows no interest in my sudden appearance. He is entirely
interested in his own skills and turns to shoot in another
direction.
Though there are always people milling about, I do not attract
attention. I am probably flushed, but I hope that it is just
attributed to a romp with Behemoth who everyone knows is a
lively rascal.
He barks and trots along beside me, cheerful from our
adventure.
My shaky legs take me into the house and though I hear Chaya
and her mother's voices coming from the courtyard, I go straight
up to my room and collapse on my bed.
And weep.

Behemoth licked away my tears, but he cannot do anything
about the heaviness in my heart.
Though I thank Yah fervently for delivering me I hope he
can hear whispers in a bedroom it occurs to me that the men
turned around to finish what they had started. If that person on
the ground had any life in him or her when I encountered the
men in the forest, I do not believe he or she has now.
I go down to the main room at dinner time to join Chaya and
her parents.
I do not know what to say. It seems dishonest to hide my
experience from them. But as it turns out, I do not have to
endure a meal of trying to act natural.
Mahalalel asks the blessing on the meal of bread and herbs in
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oil. Chaya and her mother are so busy preparing food for the
upcoming wedding that our daily meals have been simple fare. I
have no appetite, but I force myself to reach for the bread like
everyone else, when suddenly, Kenaz practically falls in through
the door.
Like me earlier, he is out of breath. But unlike me, it is not
with terror. It is more an excitement. He and Jared encountered
three men in the woods near the star map, two of whom had
knives.
I hang my head. I know why the third one did not have a
knife.
At the sight of Jared and Kenaz, and particularly, at the sight
of Kenaz's bow and arrow, the men fled into the woods.
Suspicious, Jared and Kenaz had followed their trail and
discovered a body in the woods. The man they had found was
barely alive. He was losing blood, but Kenaz had torn off his
own shirt and stopped the flow. He and Jared had carried the
man the long journey to Mahalalel's settlement, deciding that the
man would be better off here than back alone at Jared's house.
But why? Chaya bursts out. Why would someone do such a
thing?
While my head has been hung in shame, Chaya and her
mother have been listening in horror.
These are becoming violent times, says Kenaz, reaching for
some bread. It is not unusual, particularly in the other
settlements. The man was a trader and had valuables to sell. He
managed to tell us he had shells from the sea, extremely beautiful
apparently. The men who accosted him probably lured him
beyond the river with the promise of a nearby settlement to sell
them too. In any case, he has lost his shells now. He told us he
would have been dead if someone had not come along with a
barking animal that scared away the men.
Perhaps to a man lying on the ground, with multiple stabs
from a knife, that is what it would seem like. My eyes are still on
my lap. Still, it sounds as if some good came from my appearance
at that particular moment.
Where is the man now? demands Dinah.
In my home, says Kenaz, pouring himself some water from
the pitcher. My wife will look after him. He is sleeping
presently.
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Jared joins us, announcing that he has alerted all of the
settlement to be on the lookout for the three men. They were not
known to him or Kenaz so it is doubtful that they are of the sons
of Seth.
The meal is sombre.
Chaya and her mother fret about not being able to travel freely
among the settlements without fear of being attacked. Right after
the meal, they hurry over to Kenaz's home to see what they can
do to help care for the man. I am left mercifully alone with the
excuse that I must clear away the remains of the meal.
I do not want to see the man. Not only do I fear that he might
recognize me, even more, I am sick about the whole thing and
want no further reminders of it.
Although I am in the courtyard, I can still here snippets of the
conversation between Mahalalel and his two oldest sons. These
incidents of violence are becoming more frequent, although I
gather that any stories they have heard have been kept from their
women. Jared says, for the most part, they are robberies and the
traders have more to worry about than the settlers. Kenaz says
the settlers should still start to think of security. Perhaps
settlements should have walls. Mahalalel wonders what it will all
lead to.
In the courtyard, with Behemoth now snoozing in a corner
while I put away some plates, I wonder what Hawwa will think
when she hears of this. We are all her children. It will break her
heart that some of her children are willing to shed the blood of
others just for some objects from the sea.

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Chapter Twelve
fter three days of sleep, the trader is well enough to be
carefully conveyed by Jared and Kenaz to the river and a
passing boat of his own kinsmen, who promise to return
him to his home settlement by the sea.
The sea is an unknown for most sons of Seth, although it is
well known that one side of the Garden of Eden was by the sea.
I have persuaded Mahalalel to let me help him in his garden on
the days Jared does not come and get me. He tells me that Father
Adam used to watch the dolphins swim at night and marvel at
the size of the whales. Of course, without seeing these creatures
for myself, they are hard to imagine.
The incident in the forest is almost forgotten by the day of my
wedding.
Guests start arriving the day before and all the homes in
Mahalalel's settlement fill up with uncles and aunts and cousins.
There are so many people that many of the cousins choose to
sleep outside on reed mats rather than take up space in the
houses.
When Sofer and his sons arrive, they greet everyone and then
go directly to the star map to sleep under the stars.
A
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With this many people present, I feel safe. The story of the
trader in the forest circulates, albeit in hushed tones. There is
even talk that perhaps the settlements should be moved closer
together, for safety.
But Enosh and Sofer quickly dismiss this.
What will become of the star maps if we abandon the
settlements? says Enosh, Seth's eldest son. And so there is no
more talk about the increasing violence.
The oldest man present will perform the wedding ceremony.
Naturally, this would have fallen to Father Adam had he been
here, but he and Hawwa just sent all their love. There is no
reason to feel rejected. They are so busy with those in need
among their own household that they rarely attend any weddings.
Their life would be one endless ceremony if they went to every
celebration of their children.
So it is Seth who will marry me and Jared.
It is a short ceremony, consisting mainly of an oath that we
will live as husband and wife and a reminder that we are
participating in a union that represents the oneness of Yah. But
the celebration are just beginning.
Jared is assisting the other men in creating the largest fire I
have ever seen. When it is done, it rivals the sun itself. But as I
stand, surrounded by women and well-wishers - some eating,
some talking, some just watching I wonder if Yah will ever
return. If the children of Adam are becoming brutal toward one
another, why should he appear in our midst? And now it has
come to the settlements of Seth.
When the fire is the size of one of the smaller pyramids, the
dancing begins.
It starts with singing. There are no harps or flute players such
as my half-brother Jubal once trained, but the voices in the light
of the fire with the darkness behind are enough. The song is one
of praise, rejoicing in Yah and his creation, calling on Yah to walk
among his children once again. Soon there are children of Seth
dancing. They are moving to the music, their dancing reflecting
the song as it alternates between rejoicing and longing. Like the
son of Hey said, no one seems aware of those around him, only
of their own desire for Yah.
At first, I hesitate. But then the dance calls me in. Jared is
already dancing somewhere. There is no one watching me,
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looking to see if I join in. There are people on the outskirts,
some who even seem indifferent, but near the fire are the people
who are at this moment only thinking of Yah.
And then I find myself caught up in the music and the longing
in my own heart. I have come from the city of Cain to find Yah
the Elohim that Cain left behind. And the yearning I have to
know Yah is so great I am nearly sick by it. I am overwhelmed by
the desire for someone I have never met, never even seen.
The journey in the woods that I took that day to plant mint in
my future garden was foolish. But had I been on the same
journey to meet Yah instead, even had I been waylaid and
murdered on the way, it would have been but a small sacrifice to
chance a meeting with our Elohim. Because in that moment, life
without Yah is unbearable.
I dance as I weep.
There is no Yah, there is only the dance.
And there are the stars, so close and so bright that I start to
feel as if I am dancing with them. Slowly my sorrow is replaced
by awe.
I feel it. The universe is whole! I feel it!
I do not know if they are my own words or the words of the
singers. It does not matter. I feel it. If I cannot have Yah at this
moment, I can have his universe, able to reach out and hold it in
my hand.
Time has no meaning.
At some point, I must collapse because when I wake up, I am
in my own bed in Mahalalel's house. Like every morning, the sun
is shining through my window. The only difference is, Jared is
sharing my bed with me. Behemoth is faithfully sleeping on the
floor on my side of the bed.
Jared is sound asleep. I step over the snoring Behemoth to slip
on a robe and see what is going on in the rest of the house.
Many of the guests are still here, some sleeping, some in the
courtyard helping themselves to piles of bread, date paste and
mint tea. Some recognize me and smile and I return the well-
wishes. I take some food and return upstairs with it.
Opening the door wakes up Jared and he greets me with a
sleepy grin.
I hope you do not mind one more day here, he says,
accepting the mint tea with gratitude as I join him on the bed.
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So many people have come so far, I thought we should stay here
and return to our home tonight.
I nod my agreement.
Behemoth decides he can do better than bread and date paste
and I open the door for him to go downstairs and beg for a
different breakfast.
When he is gone and I am back in the bed, Jared puts his tea
aside to take me into his arms.
The little rascal would not let me touch you last night, he
says, grinning. He kept growling at me.
I smile.
He is protective, I say. Though I doubt he could do you
much harm.
Have you seen his teeth? Jared asks me. What are you
going to do with him when he is as tall as a pyramid?
I remember the men with the knives and think that I will not
mind having such a tame beast by my side.
If no one downstairs gives him anything to his liking, he will
be right back up here again, I say.
This inspires Jared to take quick action.
Jared's lovemaking is hurried but tender. When Behemoth
returns, he is suspicious. He comes into the room and looks Jared
over as if suspecting that something might have transpired in his
absence. I laugh and toss him what is left of my bread.
Then we dress and go downstairs to visit with our guests
before they return to their settlements. By the time late afternoon
comes, most of them are gone.
Kenaz insists that he and his bow and arrow will accompany
us back to Jared's settlement. But Jared laughs and shows him
Tubal-Cain's knife that I have just given to him.
Surely this will protect us from anyone intending to do
harm, he says.
Kenaz admires the fine craftsmanship of the knife and agrees
that, if necessary, it would be a lethal weapon.
Jared returns the knife to its sheath and with most of our
belongings now at Jared's house, we set out through the forest
with Behemoth trotting along behind.
This walk will take me right past the small clearing where I
saw the men assaulting the trader, but with Jared accompanying
me, I refuse to allow my mind to relive that day. It is best
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forgotten.
Behemoth, however, feels differently. When we come to the
spot where the man was on the ground, he dashes off and circles
the area, sniffing the soil.
Jared tells me this is the spot where he and Kenaz found the
trader.
I nod.
He must smell blood, says Jared about Behemoth.
I nod again and take his hand.
And soon we are home.
It feels too late and I feel too tired to think about making an
evening meal. But Jared seems content with more lovemaking
and even promises he will make the morning meal. As we drift
off to sleep, I murmur that we must get some of those beans
cultivated by the sons of Hey down the river. Then we will never
have to worry about being sleepy.

We will not be left to ourselves for the next few years, I
quickly realize.
The very next morning, some of the sons of Seth show up at
our door, ready to work on the star map. They come loaded with
provisions because they will be staying for long periods of time.
True to his word, Jared takes care of the first meal of our
married life, although it is not an intimate meal for two, but more
for twenty.
Some of the men will sleep in our house, but again, others
prefer the outdoors. Still, I will not have a house to myself until
the star map is complete and even then, everyone assures me that
by then I should have a household of children to keep me
company.
Perhaps it is the story of the trader in the woods that makes
everyone eager to comfort me that I will not be alone. And they
do not even know how close I came to a knife in my back that
day myself!
For the first few months, the garden takes all of my time.
Mahalalel, curious to see how the star map is coming along, also
comes with presents for my garden. His greatest gift is some wild
blueberry plants. Kenaz also brings edible plants from the forest
for my garden. I think they both know how many people I have
to feed everyday. Although people come with their own supplies
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and more are sailed down the river for the workmen, there are
still days when everything seems to be running low and we have
to rely on my garden or mushrooms from the forest. When I am
not in my garden, I am in my courtyard with Tubal-Cain's stove,
baking bread and everything else that has been taught to me since
I left Enoch.
But after a while it is obvious I will be even busier soon. Jared
and I are expecting a child.
Chaya and her mother come to be with me in my final days of
pregnancy. Although Chaya is now engaged to be married to one
of our cousins, she insists on staying with me right up until I give
birth to my first son.
We will call him Enoch, says Jared, holding his son with
obvious pride and affection. Perhaps he will find a way to
connect the sons of Cain with the sons of Seth.
I am honoured that he should pay tribute to the city of my
childhood and to the family that raised me. I long to somehow
pass the message on to Tubal-Cain, Naamah and our mother,
Zillah, that I am now married with a son. I still think about them
and wonder how Naamah's marriage to Semjaza affected the
family of Lamech.
Our second son comes within a year and I name him Rasujal,
after the father I never knew. As they grow, the two boys play and
I cannot help myself from thinking that this must have been how
Hawwa felt watching her two sons together. Who could have ever
imagined that one would turn against the other in jealous anger?
And yet, nowadays, it is not so unbelievable. Though the star
map continues to occupy our time and attention, the reports of
violence among the children of Adam are alarmingly more
frequent. Little do I realize that, in time, there will be even more
disturbing rumours.

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Part Three

116

117
Chapter Thirteen
n time, Enoch and Rasujal are joined by a sister. I want to
name her Chaya after her beloved aunt, but Jared says that
will be confusing and says he prefers Tikvah. It means hope.
And hope is what we need in these troubling times.
The traders now move down the river well-armed with bows
and arrows and do not venture into the settlements without
anything ranging from a dagger to a machete. Even casual
travellers carry small knives.
The star map is more than half-finished. Many of the smaller
pyramids are complete and much time is being spent on the
larger ones. Chaya, now married with two daughters, tells me that
Mahalalel's star map was only completed shortly before I arrived.
We see much less of each other now that we are living in
different settlements. Although Jared's settlement is so young
with only the two of us and our three children, it is an active one
with the sons of Seth coming and going as they rotate work on
the star map.
The unsettling trend that causes us to name our daughter
hope, is that the further people have moved away from Father
Adam, the more unrestrained the area has become. Ironically,
I
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although it was at the site of Father Adam's home that the first
murder occurred, now it is the settlements farthest away where
murder has become almost routine.
And it is not just murder.
Among our cousins, I hear reports of angry husbands who
turn on their own wives. It is alarming when even the sons of
Seth seem affected by these times of brutality. For if the sons of
Seth are willing to strike their own wives, I wonder what is going
on among the other sons of Adam? Perhaps it is not just wives,
but children as well. Perhaps a time will come when no one is
safe, even in his or her home.
Despite this, I become pregnant again and cannot help but
rejoice at the thought of another baby to hold. My little ones are
not so little now. Enoch is fourteen and spends most of his time
at the star map, already as strong as some of the men. Many have
commented that he seems especially favoured with strength. But
when I talk to him, he says it is only because he is eager to see the
star map completed.
You do not have to worry, I say, laughing, as I work in the
garden. I have added raspberries and strawberries, as well as
some peanut plants. You have many years before Hawwa takes
you aside and instructs you that it is time to choose a wife.
Hawwa, Mother of All Living, still visits her children and is the
only one to travel unarmed.
Enoch shakes his head.
It is not that, he says. It is Yah. I have seen him.
I almost drop my hoe.
What is that you said? I give him my full attention.
He nods.
He is with us. That is, I think he is with me. I have seen him
at the edge of the forest, watching.
Has anyone else seen him?
Enoch shakes his hand.
No. At least, no one has said anything. But I do not think
they have. When I see him, he is only looking at me.
I feel weak. I have almost forgotten what it is like to long for
Yah. But now it comes back to me and it arrives with such a
feeling of desperation that I almost cannot stay standing. I have
let go of my longing, I realize, because of disappointment. A
hope deferred makes the heart sick. And now my son talks this
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way . . .
I am not sure that I will be able to live with any more
disappointment.
But my son does not notice my reaction. So often he is in his
own world anyway, and off he goes now, to the house for some
mint tea and afterward, some playtime with Behemoth.
Behemoth is now taller than our home. Indeed, we had to cut
a path out of the forest for him so he could move freely between
our settlement and the star map where there is more room for
him to roam. My carefree (or some may say, careless) second son,
Rasujal, often rides him back and forth between the two, much to
his father's delight and much to my terror. Behemoth loves all my
children, but high on his back like that, I fear a dreadful fall. At
least I do not fear roaming bandits. Very few of them would be
prepared to take on Behemoth, even though his bark is still worse
than his bite.
I return to the house with a basket of greens, deep in thought.
Yah. Yah at the edge of our forest?
It has been awhile since I went out to see the progress of the
star map. Perhaps I will go today. I will certainly not have the
time when my next child is born.
Absentmindedly, I make lunch for the few people who are in
my home. Most people have taken their midday meal with them
to the star map.
After lunch, I gather up Tikvah and a large blanket for her to
have an afternoon nap on. She can sleep in the shade of one of
the finished pyramids and I can rely on Behemoth to guard her
with his life.
The short walk is enough time for anticipation to build. What
if Yah really is watching this new star map be built?
Jared greets me with an embrace and Tikvah is immediately
scooped up to the shoulders of her uncle, Kenaz.
I would like to walk around the map, I say.
Of course, my love, says Jared. But avoid the north end.
I nod. The north end is active with stone masons and other
workers assembling the base of one of the larger pyramids.
These are the ones that require the rectangular blocks that can be
up to one hundred tons and you do not want to get in their way.
I stroll along the edge of the forest. To everyone else, I
probably look as if I am taking a casual walk. But my heart is
120
beating and my eyes are scanning everything. Everything except
the star map. For it is in the woods that my son said he saw Yah.
I see Enoch. He is busy with some of our cousins working on
a smaller pyramid. It is nearly completed and they are letting the
rascal climb to the very top where the capstone will soon be
placed.
He notices me from up there and waves.
I smile and wave back.
Then he nods his head toward a certain patch of forest. He
knows why I am here. I smile and nod.
But my walk is a letdown. As always, there is no Yah. I even
venture into the forest until I am almost out of sight of the star
map, but all I find are some mushrooms that will make an
excellent stew for dinner.
I nearly weep with frustration.
How can Father Adam, who once walked with Yah in the
Garden, stand such a loss? I can barely stand the loss of
something I have never even known.
I return to Jared with an armful of mushrooms and find
Tikvah sleeping on her blanket underneath the table where the
star map on animal skins is spread out. Jared promises to bring
her home with him when he returns for the evening meal.
And I head back down the path that will take me home.
A warm breeze caresses my cheek as I walk through the silent
forest. For a moment, I do not notice and then I realize what an
unusual thing it is. It is the warmth from the sun that I feel, yet I
am entirely shaded by trees.
I turn and quickly survey the whole forest. Is it Yah? It must
be! But then the warmth is gone and I am left with only the
memory.
Laden down with mushrooms, I continue on to the house and
spend the remainder of the afternoon gathering more vegetables
and preparing the stew for the evening meal.

Our fourth child, another son, is named Pyramides, because
on the day he is born, the capstone is put on the largest of all the
pyramids in our star map. Chaya is by my side throughout my
labour, though pregnant herself with her fifth child.
Jared was torn between participating in the completion of the
pyramid and being home to be the first to hear the news of our
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child. Chaya shooed him off to the star map with the assurance
that as soon as the baby was born, Rasujal could gallop on
Behemoth with the news.
And so I re-enter that season of life where all one's energies
are taken up with a new life to care for. But even as I am holding
Pyramides while he drinks, admiring his curly light hair and
enjoying the way his small hand curls around my finger, I am
thinking of Yah. At every birth, there is always someone a
jovial uncle or an exuberant cousin - who says that each new life
is a miracle.
But if it truly is a miracle, why is Yah not present?
I am left with the feeling that he has made us and now keeps
his distance.
My only hope is that Enoch says that he still sees him, and not
always near the star map, but in the forest and once even down
by the river.
And how do you know it is Yah? I ask him.
It is the way he looks at me, is all Enoch says. When I ask
him what he looks like, his physical characteristics, Enoch seems
incapable of providing a description and I do not want to force
the issue.
Part of me knows why Yah does not walk with his children
anymore. I see the reason in my own children. Though Enoch is
aloof from the everyday stresses of life, Rasujal and Tikvah are
so quick to turn on each other over the slightest grievance. They
live with the desire to have their own way at all cost and it is only
Jared stepping in and sternly rebuking them that brings it to an
end. Although I loathe admitting it, even I grow weary of their
continual arguing.
It is to Jared's credit that he continues to patiently supervise
the construction of the star map. Disputes break out on the site
and once it was only Kenaz's bow and arrow that kept two
brothers from attempting fratricide.
It leaves me with a spirit of heaviness and some mornings it is
hard to get out of bed. How can Yah move among us if we are
continually choosing the evil of the Tree of the Knowledge of
Good and Evil, rather than the good?
The Tree of Life remains forever guarded by a flaming sword
and cherubim stand guard at the east of the Garden, though
these are things I have only heard of and never seen. It is Father
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Adam who told his sons about the flaming sword. No eye but
Father Adam's has seen that.

Baraka! I turn from the courtyard stove at the sound of my
husband's voice. It is unusual to have him home during the day.
He takes his midday meal at the site of the star map with the
other workers.
All praise to Yah that you are safe! He gives me a quick
embrace. Where are the children?
I am startled.
Pyramides is sleeping, I say. He is a healthy two years old
now. Enoch is with you, is he not? Jared nods.
But the others? he says, almost sounding impatient.
Rasujal is in the forest picking berries . . .
We must find him, quick! And Jared is off before I can
point out that Tikvah is in the corner of the courtyard, making a
batch of dough for the sweet honey cakes she loves so much.
My legs feel weak and I am torn between staying in the house
with my two children and dashing off after my husband.
As it turns out, Jared does not have to go far to find Rasujal.
He is already approaching the house with his basket of wild
blackberries. Although he is almost the size of a man, Jared
practically grabs him off his feet and pushes him into the house.
He calls out an order to me to shut and barricade the door before
running off back in the direction of the star map.
There are only two other people in the house with me. They
are young men, second cousins, who have been sent by their
families with more food supplies to feed the workers.
Quickly, they push the table and the chairs up against the door
while I run around closing shutters. What on earth is going on? I
feel sick. I am not sure whether it is sick at not knowing what is
happening or whether it is sick with fear. In any case, it does not
matter. My small family, along with our cousins, take refuge in the
courtyard.
In the distance, we hear shouts. They are not friendly shouts
and I have no idea what to make of them. Behemoth, too big to
be in the house anymore, is somewhere out there and I hear him
barking. It is a bark I have never heard come from him. It is
almost a roar, but it is unmistakably Behemoth.
Only Pyramides does not seem concerned.
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He is still sleeping, now in my arms. He is getting heavier and
I am forced to sit down on the ground with him rather than
continue standing like the others. Enoch is somewhere out there
with his father. Rasujal's eyes glitter with excitement. He mutters
something about wanting to know what is going on and I get a
sense that he would even like to be a part of it. The two young
men, who were intending to return to their settlement right after
the midday meal, are quietly conferring with one another. I
appreciate their demeanour, which is not adding to the tension. I
have enough panic in my heart without anyone outwardly
showing fear.
It is a long hour before any news comes to the house. With
the door barricaded, I would not have known who to admit to
the house, except that in the open-air courtyard, my first sight of
a person is my son Enoch, riding on Behemoth's tall shoulders.
With a cry, I quickly run through the inner rooms to the door,
the cousins right behind me. While Tikvah watches and Rasujal
helps, the two cousins pull away the table and chairs and soon the
house is filled with our battle-worn men.
At first, there is no talk. Only trying to overcome shock to
help with the present needs. Jared has a cut on his arm, but
brushes me away when I try to stem the blood. There are others
who need attention, he says.
Quickly, I tear bolts of cloth to wrap around bleeding hands
and arms and legs.
The story of what happened comes out in bits and pieces. I
pick it up as the men talk and recount what they just experienced.
They were attacked by marauders. The reason for the attack
was unclear although some of the workmen heard the gang refer
to valuables on the site. It is possible that the rumour has gone
out that the sons of Seth use precious stones or metals in the
construction of their pyramids. In any case, the attack was savage
and sudden. But the workmen retaliated and fought back with
their tools. Behemoth joined the fray and gave the attackers
second thoughts about their whole undertaking. But it still took
some time to drive the attackers off.
I am sure Kenaz also gave them something to think about, I
murmur. I look around. Where is Kenaz?
A sick feeling reaches down to my very kidneys.
Where is Kenaz? I manage to say out loud.
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He left immediately after the fray, says Jared, now paying
attention to his own wound. I provide some strips of cloth and
he lets me wrap them around his arm. He wanted to warn the
others. And defend them if necessary.
I nod.
Mahahalel's settlement might be in danger. We are better
armed here with our tools. They may not be as well prepared.
It is clear that we are going to have to build walled
settlements, says one of the men, now bandaged and sipping the
wine I have provided for the injured.
There are many murmurs of agreement.
It has already been done in the settlement of Dalath, calls
out another.
I think of Roeh and his mother. What about the wide-open
spaces for Roeh's sheep? Do they live in fear behind walls now?
We cannot put a wall around the star map, Jared points out.
No one comments on this. I know why. When they are done
helping Jared, they will return to their busy settlements while
Jared and I will be left here with our one home and our children.
Our settlement will not grow until our children start having
children. And we will be very vulnerable.
I push these thoughts away.
There is enough to think about right now.

After much discussion, it is agreed that the work on the star
map will continue.
But at the same time, we lose about half the workers. The idea
of building walls around the settlements is moving from talk to
action. But many men will be needed to accomplish the task as
there are many settlements among the sons of Seth.
So the work on the star map slows down and even Kenaz
stays home most days, training the sons of his brothers with
bows and arrows, to defend their homes if necessary. Meanwhile,
our home remains solitary and open to attack.
The workers that stay now sleep in the house or in the
courtyard. I step over their sleeping forms each morning as I
make my way to the stove and start a fire for mint tea.
But violence does not return to our house.
Instead, we hear disturbing stories of unrest among the other
sons of Adam. Among the children of Hey, in Havilah, the
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violence is the worst. The golden metal that so enchanted Qayin
and Tubal-Cain is found in the land of Havilah. There is also
onyx, now considered something to die for. Cursed is the man
who has large quantities of either, for sooner or later, someone
else will attempt to acquire it. Only the myrrh from Havilah still
seems to be moved freely among the children of Adam. There
are two types of traders now. Those who handle goods that
people do not kill for. And those who do. The ones that carry
precious stones move in packs, like wolves, and are as menacing
as the men who would attack them.
It is not just in Havilah.
Along the Gihon, skirmishes occur regularly.
Kenaz informs us that when it comes to defending a
settlement, it is no longer enough to just be handy with a bow
and arrow. There are other, more sophisticated, ways of fighting
now.
This new world is increasing the demand for the skills of the
hunter. Kenaz no longer trades his animal skins with the sons of
Sofer, but sells them to the traders. The traders have a thriving
new business. They make frames and cover them with animal
skins, selling them as shields. These new shields will protect a
man from the knives and short swords that people regularly carry.
But Kenaz says it goes beyond personal protection. The sons of
Hey organize themselves into line formations. They carry shields
in one hand and short swords in the other. When they move
forward as one, they are formidable and well able to defend their
settlements from menace. Even arrows cannot penetrate the new
shields, provided a man is quick enough to cover himself.
And yet, throughout it all, the news from Enoch is scant.
I desire to know whether the family of Lamech is thriving.
Has Naamah had children? Has the strength of Semjaza and his
brothers benefited the city of Enoch, or has it brought them
unhappiness? My mind runs over the various possibilities.
The reality turns out to be stranger than any of my
imaginings.

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ubal-Cain must be a wealthy man by now.
The knives made by him and his craftsmen are now
carried by most of the sons of Adam. Perhaps it is a good
thing that Tubal-Cain is allied to Semjaza and his brothers by
marriage. If the violence that covers the rest of the earth has
affected Enoch, then he will need the protection of these men
that tower above the sons of Cain.
Jared does not let me go near the river when the traders are
docked, so I cannot inquire about the inhabitants of Enoch.
But my own Enoch keeps me distracted enough.
He casually announces to me one morning that he has not
only seen Yah but he has talked to him as well.
The star map is not the bustling site it used to be. Whereas in
the past, there were several crews working on different pyramids,
now there is only one crew and so only one pyramid gets built at
a time. Therefore, most of the huge site is usually without
people.
Today, when Enoch was passing by one of the completed
pyramids, he saw Yah standing there.
There was no need for introductions.
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128
Whereas my first instinct would have been to fall to the
ground on my face and weep with relief at the presence of Yah,
my precocious son, now used to Yah's various appearances, asked
him what the name of the star was that this pyramid represented.
Yah laughed and said that this pyramid, in fact, represented a
whole galaxy, though with our eyes, it would seem like another
star.
From there, they had walked and talked right back to the
house.
Enoch has been sent by Jared to bring back some more bread
for the midday meal since some of the sons of Avanim from the
stone quarry have shown up with a new load and need to be
shown proper hospitality.
I desperately want to know what Yah and Enoch discussed.
My whole being would cherish the words of Yah. But my son
does not share it with me. Quiet like his father, he is thoughtful
and not quick to put forth his opinion. So I despair of ever
knowing what he and Yah spoke about.
Where is he now? I ask. Enoch is loaded down with a large
basketful of bread and some bean dip, as well as another jar of
oil.
He kept moving, toward the river, says Enoch, as I hold the
door open for him.
I return to the table in the courtyard where I am making the
dough for a potato pie. Yah in our very settlement! My heart
should rejoice but it is breaking because I was not there to see it.
As unsettling as it is to hear the reports of violence in the other
parts of the land, it is more wretched to my spirit to know that
Yah is here and is not talking to me.
I continue to knead the dough, my mind entirely on what my
son has just told me.
Am I jealous of my son?
No.
I am glad for him. But I still ache for Yah.
I have come out of the Land of Wandering and returned to
the presence of Yah. But where is he?
Then a thought enters my mind. It is really more of a
conviction.
Yah is present. Yah is talking to Enoch and he is my son.
I am connected to Enoch and Enoch is connected to Yah.
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Just seeing it with that perspective helps. But only slightly.

We remain mercifully untouched by the violence that is
affecting the other settlements. Only the sons of Seth are not
fighting among themselves, though that does not mean that
outbursts of anger do not occur. When Chaya comes to visit, she
tells me that her brothers and their children are not at peace with
one another.
But at least we have not declared war on each other, she
says, smiling.
I smile absently.
She is visiting on a day when nearly a hundred sons of
Avanim have shown up with some of the larger base stones
needed for one of the final pyramids. The heavier stones require
all hands. I am expected to have a meal for them all out at the
star map. The bread is prepared. I am also roasting potatoes in
the oven. They are what I am concentrating on now, checking on
them to make sure they have not overcooked. When they come
out, I will marinade them in oil and spices.
Here, let me do that, says Chaya, as I return to a large table
where I have to wash and chop some spinach to add to the
potatoes. She rolls up her sleeves to run the sandy leaves under
the running water.
I notice something.
What is this? I ask, looking at her arm. There is a patch of
blue markings on one of them. I gently touch it.
She shakes away my hand.
It is nothing, she says. An affliction that affects us all.
What do you mean? I say. I have only seen such markings
once, after Rasujal fell out of a tree. His leg bruised and he was
blessed not to have broken a bone.
How did this happen? I ask, knowing my sister is not in the
habit of falling out of trees.
It is nothing, she repeats.
It takes me a minute to figure it out.
Her husband did this.
Does Mahalalel know about this? I demand.
Of course not! she says sharply.
I understand if she does not want to tell our father. He is
getting older and perhaps she does not feel he can help.
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What about Kenaz? I say. Our brother Kenaz could
certainly put an end to this.
Chaya laughs. But it is a bitter laugh.
You should see the markings on his wife's arms, she says.
How can this be? For the moment, I have completely
forgotten about the potatoes. Now I remember that I have a field
of hungry men waiting.
I grab a heavy cotton cloth and pull out the two large pans of
potatoes.
Though hot, I quickly chop them up and toss them into the
bowl of oil. Chaya, meanwhile, has finished washing the spinach
and is now shredding it and tossing it in with the potatoes. I add
some onion that I had already chopped to the bowl and the
potatoes are done.
I have so much food to bring down to the field that I have to
load it all on a cart. If I wanted, I could harness up one of the
small horses that Enoch has befriended and use it to haul the cart
along the path, but I am in too much of a hurry to catch one.
We start off for the star map with me pulling the cart. Tikvah
trails along behind, picking wildflowers. She is a grown woman
now, though she still enjoys some of the activities of her
childhood. She is far enough behind that I pursue the topic with
Chaya.
But surely there is some kind of protection . . . ?
What would you know about it? she mutters. It is the first
time I have experienced hostility from my sister.
I am married, I say.
You are married to Jared, she says. Has he ever struck
you?
Of course not, I say.
Of course not, she repeats, sounding slightly mocking. I
have talked to the cousins, she continues. It is all the same. The
wife of Enosh, the wife of Cainan, my own mother, they know
nothing of these things.
I try to take this in.
Be sure of this, sister, says Chaya. Rasujal will strike his
wife. Enoch will not.
Is there truth to this?
It is true that Enoch has a different personality than his
younger brother, but I did not attribute this to anything except
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sibling variety. Rasujal is certainly disrespectful at times, but he is
not the type to strike out at someone. Is he?
But it was Cain who struck his younger brother, Abel, I
protest.
Chaya shrugs.
Among the sons of Cain, perhaps things are different, she
says. Among the sons of Seth, this is the way it is.
What more can we say? We walk to the star map in silence.
The food is received with gratitude, but today I look at the
men differently. How many of their wives live in fear? It is
impossible to tell as they sit around in groups, talking and
laughing. Then I look at Jared. What makes him different?
It is Yah, I decide. Each of the eldest sons of Seth has had to
build a star map and so has become the guardian of a place of
worship.
Despite that Chaya stays with me for two more days, the topic
of the bruises on her arm does not come up again. Instead, we
talk about our children. She has left her's back at Mahalalel's
settlement. Dinah is delighted to be able to spend the extra time
with her grandchildren, she tells me.
That is something I miss. Chaya's mother never really became
my mother and I have lost Zillah. No doubt, Zillah has Naamah's
children to rejoice over.
Chaya, who was once so full of life, now seems only to talk of
death.
The traders bring news every time they dock. Another death.
Another murder, or sometimes an accident. The patriarchs
Father Adam, Father Seth, and the other sons of Adam
command enough respect that no one threatens their lives, but
among cousins, life is brutal.
All larger settlements are walled now. Even animals are being
trained for war. Wild dogs have been domesticated to defend
households.
And Behemoth is not the only tamed lizard. Other great
dragons are being used to guard city gates, the most formidable
ones being the kind that breath fire. Dragon trainers are in great
demand.
That is why you are safe here, Chaya says over mint tea in
the courtyard. The marauders are afraid of Behemoth.
I do not tell her that I think we are safe because of the
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presence of Yah. Recently, Enoch has had another conversation
with Yah, this time in the forest. He was gone a whole day.
Mercifully, I did not know he was missing. I assumed he was with
Jared at the star map. Jared assumed he was home with me. I did
not even attempt to find out what it was that they discussed. It is
enough for me now that Yah is near.
I am going to make a pilgrimage to visit Hawwa, Mother of
All Living, says Chaya. Her choice of words is unusual. Up until
now, I have only heard the sons of Seth refer to a pilgrimage to
the Great Pyramid.
But why, sister? I say. She will come again to our
settlements. She always does.
Chaya shakes her head.
I cannot discuss certain things when all the others are
around. I need her blessing.
At first I think that she is talking about the abuse that she and
her cousins are enduring.
The more sons a man has, the higher his esteem for his
wife.
I realize it is her intent to visit Hawwa to ask for a blessing of
fertility.
But, sister, I protest. It is me who should be asking for
more children! Not you! After all, I have a settlement to people.
Chaya shrugs.
But Hawwa cannot give you more children, I say. I have
come a long way in both body and mind since my days in the city
of Cain. No longer would I even entertain the possibility that any
matriarch can bestow a blessing of fertility on her daughters.
She is the Mother of All Living, Chaya insists.
But even she herself said that she had brought forth a man-
child from Yah.
Then perhaps she can ask Yah to give me more children. If I
do not have more children, I will die!
I think of my son, possibly even at this moment, out in the
forest with Yah. Should I pass the request onto Enoch to convey
to Yah? It would save Chaya a journey over ever-increasingly
dangerous land.
Perhaps Yah is closer than you think, I say. Perhaps if you
call out to him, he will come to you.
I do not want Yah to come to me, says Chaya sharply. I
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want more children!
I am shocked.
But surely Yah is better than ten children! I say.
Do not let Jared hear you say that, is her reply.
But I think Jared would agree with me.
It is not safe to travel alone between the settlements, so Chaya
returns to her own home with some of her brothers.
I watch them disappear into the forest and wish there was
something I could do for her. There is only one thing I can think
of. I mention to Enoch that his Aunt Chaya would like to have
more children and that children are a gift from Yah. Perhaps he
could mention this to Yah next time they converse.
Enoch's reply shocks me even more than Chaya's outburst.
Yah is not pleased with the sons of Adam. Why should she
bring more children into this violent world?
And so Chaya prepares to make her journey. The family is
divided over it. Mahalalel and Jared disapprove of such a
pilgrimage, saying that Hawwa is not a substitute for Yah. I plead
with her to wait until the star map is complete. Then there will be
a dance to Yah and I assure her, it is quite possible it will not only
be a dance for Yah, it might be a dance with Yah.
But Chaya's husband wants more children now, not later. And
Chaya's mother is willing to watch her children while she is gone.
So Chaya pays for passage on one of the trader's ships destined
for the closest settlement to Father Adam. I half expect to never
see her again.
But she returns six months later, not overly impressed with
the whole situation at Hawwa's. She says they have too many
animals and Father Adam is too quiet and Hawwa is too busy and
they take in too many people and all in all, she is not hopeful that
anything was accomplished by her journey.
Alas, she proves to be right and does not get pregnant again.
Much to the shame of the sons of Seth, her husband pronounces
her barren and says he is taking a second wife.
It is not so bad, I try to console her when her brother
Kenaz brings her along on a day when he has come to work on
the star map. My mother, Zillah, was a second wife.
Oh! So now you are a daughter of Cain instead of a daughter
of Seth? she snaps at me.
I sigh. She is only speaking in angry. And it does not help the
134
situation that I am pregnant again, approaching the end of my
time of waiting.
I cannot convey her to her the sadness I feel with this
pregnancy. A new life should be a time of joy and hope. But I
cannot help but feel that Yah has abandoned his children because
of their disobedience to him. Except for Enoch.
Though he is still young, Jared is already putting forth the idea
that Enoch will need a wife. I know that Enoch will never seek
one out so long as his days are spent with Yah and I point out to
Jared that he was not a father until he was 162-years-old.
But Jared is eager that his son marries younger than he did.
While I feel a reluctance to have another child because of the way
the world has turned, Jared feels the opposite. As if more sons of
Seth will be able to turn things around - to the way he remembers
the world as a boy.
In the meantime though, we are distracted by a visit from Seth
himself.
It has been many years since we had a visit from our patriarch,
and indeed, this is the first time he has visited our settlement. We
were not expecting him until the star map was complete.
He comes specifically to see me.
Jared and Enoch both sit with us as we talk on our large front
porch. It is the first day in years that neither of them goes to the
star map.
Some of the traders have come to me with alarming stories,
he says. They are scared.
Whatever do they have to be afraid of ? I ask. They are
alarming men themselves.
This is true, says Seth. He is sipping some of our orange
juice. We recently bought orange trees. They are afraid of
giants.
Giants? says Jared.
Seth nods.
They came to me because of Sofer. Of course, they cannot
actually talk to Sofer. The Great Pyramid is guarded as closely as
the Garden. But the traders wanted to know if these men were
safe to trade with.
Giants, I say, softly.
They call themselves Nephilim, Fallen Ones, says Seth. I
remembered the name of the man you encountered in Enoch
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was Semjaza the Nephilim. Is it possible that these are the same
people?
Quite possible, I say. A long time ago, when I left the city
of Cain, I had a chance to see the brothers of Semjaza. They are
alarming in their stature. But why is it that the traders come to
you now? The Nephilim have been in the city of Cain for many
years.
These are not traders who travel to the sons of Cain. They
have encountered these giants in the perimeter settlements. They
are alarmed, says Seth. When a man is so much larger than
yourself, all you can rely on is his honour. But I was unable to
give them any comfort. There are no Nephilim in our records of
the children of Adam. If they are not sons of Cain, then they are
not of this world. And not knowing who they are, I cannot tell
the traders whether they are honourable men.
I happen to glance at my son. Though my husband's eyes are
full of concern, my son is calm. It would not surprise me in the
least if he and Yah have not already talked about the Nephilim.
We must pray these men choose to settle where they are,
says Seth, standing up. If the traders are frightened of them, I
can only imagine the panic that would spread over the earth if
they chose to explore elsewhere.
Continuing to discuss the matter, he, Jared and Enoch then
drift toward the path that will take them to the star map.
My mind is spinning. I would so like to hear more news about
Naamah and Tubal-Cain in Enoch. But it does not sound like the
traders are going there these days.

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he news only gets worse.
A boatload of men, very large men, has been seen
lazily making its way down the river. They did not seem to
intend harm, from the report of the eyewitness, but were just
sightseeing.
But then I get the fright of my life.
I am out in the woods one day. Enoch is somewhere in these
woods, ambling with Yah, oblivious to the world and its troubles.
Or perhaps they are discussing its troubles, for all I know.
I need mushrooms.
This is not the first time I have been out by myself since
giving birth to my child, a girl who we named Kalah. Kalah
means, to be at an end, because the star map is almost finished.
There will most certainly not be another child in the meantime.
Tikvah is thrilled to have a baby sister and loves Kalah as if she is
her own. I am able to leave Kalah with Tikvah whenever I need
to go to the star map or to work in the garden.
Good day, my lady.
I almost drop my basket of mushrooms. It is a voice I have
not heard in years. And one I never thought I would hear again.
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138
Semjaza.
But what is he doing here, in this quiet forest, far from the city
of Cain?
I swallow fear.
I will not be afraid!
Yah is nearby. Yah protected me as I journeyed here.
Semjaza, I say, trying to speak with a tranquility that
matches the forest around us. What brings you here, among the
sons of Seth?
I seek you, my lady.
I do not like this idea. And he is still using that familiar, my
lady.
My understanding is that you are the husband of Naamah
now, I say. I casually crouch down and pick up some of the
mushrooms I dropped and return them to my basket.
I am, he agrees.
I stand up straight.
My sister, is she . . . well?
Your sister lives, he says, coolly. I seek another. That is all.
My sister has not born you children? I ask.
She is the mother of five of my sons, he replies.
Then you have no reason to seek another, I say. I decide the
mushrooms are not important and the first chance I get, I will
return to the house. And barricade the door.
You were always my first choice, he says.
Perhaps, I say, trying to sound calm as I begin making my
way back to the path. But when I agreed to be your wife, I
believed that I was a daughter of Cain. As I prepared for the
wedding, I learnt I was a daughter of Seth.
Should that matter? he asks, as he walks alongside me.
It did to me.
We walk in silence.
There are so many things I could ask. Does he know I am
married to Jared? How did he find me? Why is he no longer
satisfied with Naamah?
But I do not want to break the silence. I want to remain aloof.
Unfortunately, I am quite a distance from the house. Even if I
were to shout out now, no one would hear me. And even if they
did, who would come to my aid? Tikvah and Kalah? No, I decide.
I must put my trust in Yah and in my position as the wife of
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Jared. But I still feel a terror from knowing I ran away from an
engagement and did not disentangle myself with honour.
The sons of men treat their wives with cruelty, says
Semjaza.
Mine does not, I say.
More silence for a stretch.
You bring forth children in pain, he says.
True, I say.
I do not desire more children, he says. There are ways of
avoiding conception.
I am married, I say. As are you.
I weary of Naamah, he says.
Then you will weary of me, I say.
I would never weary of you, my lady.
I should not even hint that there is the slightest possibility that
I will consider a marriage with him. I want to tell him that Jared is
a good man and I will not leave him, but I also do not want to
put Jared in a dangerous position. There are men who have been
killed for their wives, sometimes even with their wife's complicity.
My life is here, I say, instead.
Then I will make my life here, he says, taking the basket of
mushrooms from me. Why should you be like a servant girl and
make the soup when you can be the daughter of a god?
I am a daughter of Seth, I say sharply. At the same time, his
words are both disturbing and enlightening. Daughter of a god?
That can only mean that Semjaza believes himself to be the son
of a god. What god? Surely not Yah? Even as I walk along this
familiar path, trying to think of a way of escaping Semjaza, I am
thinking ahead to when I will be able to report this to our Father
Seth.
Your beauty makes you a daughter of god, he says.
This is no place for you then, I say, deciding to speak
bluntly. This is a life of work and worship to Yah.
It is as if a dark cloud passes in front of his face.
Yah has left you, he says. I offer you something better.
If I did not know that my son is at this very minute
somewhere with Yah, I would be momentarily tempted. The
world certainly feels abandoned by Yah. Though I know it is not
true.
My place is here, I say.
140
You are stubborn, Havilah, he says, handing the basket back
to me. We are still a distance from the house and I wonder what
makes him suddenly terminate the conversation.
Then I see my son, Enoch, emerge from the trees onto the
path. Semjaza is gone.
I look around, but I do not see him anywhere. He must have
moved fast and stealthily, but it is still unnerving. He was here
one moment and now he is not.
Mother, says Enoch, greeting me and kissing my cheek. It
is not safe to be out here alone.
I sigh.
If he only knew how true those words were.

Part of me wants to keep Semjaza's visit a secret from Jared.
But I realize this is only foolishness. I fear for Jared's safety but
not telling him is not going to keep him any safer.
When we are alone in our bedroom, Jared listens. At first he is
enraged. He cannot speak, but when he does, his first remark is
to repeat what Enoch has said. It is not safe to be out alone.
He is as concerned about me as I am for him.
I resist the urge to tell him that Semjaza or no Semjaza, I have
no desire to be a prisoner in my home, waiting for someone to
accompany me whenever I need some ingredients for soup. I
have no confidence in my own beauty and am certain Semjaza
will move on when he realizes that I am not just going to run off
with him. In fact, I am different than I was in the city of Cain. By
the glass windows, I can see that I am more tired-looking. It is
around my eyes mostly. And each child that I carried and bore
has changed me. Yet Semjaza is as handsome as ever and shows
no signs of wear or age.
Jared agrees with me that we need to discuss the matter with
Father Seth, but says we can do so soon enough. By the next full
moon, the star map will be complete and all the sons of Seth will
be invited to celebrate.
Then I will have to be out and about in order to prepare, I
say. That means hundreds of people coming. I need to be in the
forest harvesting everything edible and in the garden every day.
Rasujal will accompany you, says Jared. He does not say it,
but in his opinion, Rasujal is next-to-useless when it comes to
construction. Although it is not the construction itself. It is
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Rasujal's inability to follow directions.
I have Behemoth, I say.
Behemoth is too big for the forest, Jared points out.
Rasujal will accompany you and if he does not, I will take a
whip to him.
It is the first time Jared has ever said such a thing, but I am
not alarmed. In this case, it is his concern for my safety.
The next morning, Rasujal is sulky about his new assignment.
Even if he does not enjoy working, he likes hanging around the
site and talking to the men.
The work there is almost done, I say, to console him. You
must find something else to do anyhow.
He still grumbles.
I do not know if it would cheer him up to learn that the
reason he must accompany his mother is because he will have to
protect me from a man who is a head taller than him and two
heads taller than me.
But Semjaza does not appear today and Rasujal and I have a
day in the forest, gathering what we will need for the upcoming
festivities. The whole time, Rasujal complains.
It would go by faster if you would work harder, I point out
to him.
His basket of olives is only half-full, while I already have two
large baskets of dates and figs.
Over the next two weeks we, or rather, I, gather wild herbs
and all other edible greens from the forest.
My nerves almost crack after days of listening to Rasujal
grumble. But at the end of the last day, something happens to lift
my spirits and make my heart soar with gratitude.
As I am sorting out the herbs on a table in the courtyard,
Enoch comes in with a huge basket of blueberries and puts it
down on the ground beside me.
My son! I say, in surprise. Thank you for picking these!
Oh, they are not from me, he says, as he turns and heads
back out. They are from Yah, he calls out over his shoulder.
From Yah.
I stare down at the basket. I have never seen this basket
before. It comes up to my waist and it is sturdier than any of the
others I own.
I look at the blueberries in the basket. Though the berries in
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my garden are lovely, they are usually small. These are large, some
of them even the size of grapes.
I taste one.
Sweet!
Sweeter than any I have gotten from my own bushes.
I sink to the ground beside the basket.
With Semjaza lurking around somewhere and a son who cares
little for my needs, my whole body has felt weak these last few
weeks.
But here is a gift from Yah. He most certainly knows how
many people will be arriving here in the next few days.
I put my arm around the basket and just hold onto it. And I
cry quietly.

Our settlement swells from one home and few workmen, to
an encampment for nearly all of the sons of Seth. Though many
do not even bother to visit the star maps closest to their own
settlements, this new one is an excuse for a festival and a chance
to get caught up on family news.
Our Father Enosh will lead the activities but Jared is needed
right beside him. So I am left to look after the food, with some
help from Tikvah. Kalah is passed around from doting relative to
doting relative. She is the youngest one at this festival.
Chaya attends with all her children, her husband . . . and her
husband's new wife, who is now expecting a child. It is awkward,
but I am spared from it by having so much to do. The blueberries
are a success, with many people commenting on how sweet and
delicious they are. But my greatest hope is that Yah himself will
show up tomorrow night at the dance of the star map.
Once again, it is like the old days. People campout under the
stars. There are too many of us to worry about marauders. But
the conversations still centre on the bandits who have menaced
the other settlements and are now even permeating the
Seth himself stays in our home and confides in me that he
hates the talk of his children.
Perhaps if we talked more about Yah, he would move among
us again.
I agree.
I have a chance to tell him about Semjaza in the forest and he
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is concerned.
Stay strong, my daughter, he says. You did the right thing
when you came to be among your own people. There is nothing
dishonourable about your choice and Yah will bless you for
having chosen to be among his people.
I thank him for his words of encouragement.
Father, I say, hesitantly.
We are mostly alone in the house. A fire has been built outside
our home and the majority of people are out there, talking and
laughing.
Yes, daughter?
I do not know how to say it. I do not think even Enoch has
told anyone. But I think Father Seth should know.
Enoch walks with Yah, I blurt out.
Seth's eyes widen.
He is silent for a moment. Then there is joy on his face.
Yah be praised! he bursts out. Yah be praised! He has not
forgotten us!
But, Father . . . I take his hand. Why does Yah not come
to us all? Me or you, for example.
Seth covers my hand with his.
That might not be for us to know, he says. It is enough to
know that he is still here.
I nod.
It is true what he says. Then I tell Seth about the blueberries.
Seth starts to laugh. That makes me start to laugh. And then
we are both laughing so hard that we are weeping.
Yah provides, Seth says at last, wiping tears from his eyes.
I nod.
Yah provides.

After my talk with Seth, somehow I feel that Yah will not
dance with us. I wake up in the morning with this new thought. It
is not a disappointment as much as a conviction. Perhaps Yah will
never move again among the sons of Seth, but we can be grateful
that he still moves among some of them. Or even just one of
them.
But my longing for Yah is just as intense as it ever was. Maybe
even stronger.
Jared is not in bed beside me. Obviously, he has risen early to
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be at the star map in preparation for tonight. Kalah sleeps in a
small bed near me. She is stirring so I take her downstairs with
me and into the courtyard where I will begin a huge pot of mint
tea for the early-risers.
Tikvah and I have prepared date and fig pastries in advance,
so I place those out on the table as soon as the tea is boiling hot
and ready.
Then I must start taking food out to the star map.
With so many people here now, Jared does not require that
Rasujal accompany me everywhere. He is off with his cousins,
some of the ones who Kenaz has trained with a bow and arrow.
They are practising their skills in a less-populated part of the
settlement. Even Tikvah is not much help today. Although she
assisted me with all the food preparations, she is now also with
her cousins, talking and laughing and discussing family news.
I sigh. But I cannot be hard on either of them. We are a new
settlement and so they do not have the social opportunities that
their cousins from the older ones have.
So I load up the cart myself. I have bread to feed a city, oil and
herbs to dip it in, as well as dried fruit and honey pastries.
Mercifully, Chaya's mother's sister appears as I am just about to
set out and volunteers to take care of Kalah.
For this load, I really should harness a pony, but all the small
horses are being ridden right now. There is even a pony race
being started in one long clear stretch of the settlement. Once
again, I will be pulling the load myself.
I set out, expecting to see cousins and aunts and uncles along
the way. But the path is quiet. Those who were going to the star
map early, such as Sofer and his sons, are already there. Everyone
else seems to be planning on setting out later, closer to the night.
So I am alone in the forest.
But not for long.
Semjaza appears in front of me.
I do not know how he does it. One minute I am alone. And
the next moment, he is right here. I take a deep breath and try to
calm myself.
He has you pulling carts now, says Semjaza, walking
alongside me.
I sigh. He does not have to say who he is referring to.
My husband is too busy at the moment . . .
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Too busy to think of his wife, says Semjaza, nodding. It is
a common affliction among the sons of Adam.
With one hand, he takes the reins of the cart from me and
starts pulling. He does it with effortless ease. I cannot pretend
that I do not appreciate him removing that load from my
shoulders, but at the same time, I do not like the feeling of
gratitude that emerges inside of me as a result of the gesture. It
is true. Jared does not always consider my needs. But he has had
the star map to think of and he is a good man.
We are busy, I say. The star map is complete . . .
Has it ever occurred to the children of Seth that Yah is not
interested in star maps? asks Semjaza.
It is the way we honour him, I say. It is so much easier to
walk without having to pull that cart.
Perhaps he is not around to be honoured.
I do not say anything. I will not tell him anything about Yah or
how my family has been blessed by his presence.
I try a different approach.
Semjaza, I say. Why do you stay here? The earth is full of
women lovelier than me and who would be more than willing to
be your wife.
Perhaps that is why I stay, he says with a small smile.
A challenge. That is all I am to him. If I were to give in to
him, I would no longer have his interest.
And how is my sister, Naamah? I ask him.
Your sister, Naamah is dreary to live with.
You took her from the man she loved.
Semjaza throws his head back and laughs.
You do not mean that silly cousin of hers, do you? Qayin?
Naamah always loved Qayin, I say. It seems safer to talk of
these things.
Semjaza, still laughing, shakes his head.
Naamah does not love Qayin. She loves me. I bought Qayin
for her, as a slave.
I stop walking.
Qayin is a slave?
Semjaza also stops walking and watches me with interest.
He had debts. I bought him for her. I thought it would amuse
her to be able to order him around.
I do not know what to say. I never really liked Qayin, but now
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all I can think is, poor Qayin.
If Naamah loves you, why do you not return to her? I ask,
starting to walk again.
She is dull, he says. Not like you. She does not want a man
to have his freedom. She wants to hold onto him with her claws.
Maybe she is just afraid of losing you, I say.
And you, Havilah, he says. What are you afraid of ?
It is a question no one has ever asked me. The sons of Seth
expect their wives not to be afraid. And for the most part, I am
able to calm my own fears with reason. But there is only one
thing that fills me with terror. And that is the thought of losing
Yah.
But I have never even seen Yah!
Again, how can I long for something I have never had? And
yet, I do.
But I will most certainly not tell Semjaza this.
What is it, Havilah? he repeats. What is it you most fear?
His voice is soothing. It invites me in, to share my fears and to
feel protected.
I do not speak. I do not dare speak.
The world is not safe, Havilah, says Semjaza, still pulling the
cart with apparent effortlessness.
I do not care, I say.
He smiles slightly.
But it would be nice if your husband would care, would it
not?
That is a troubling thought. Jared chooses to ignore the
violence. He has focused on the star map since the day we were
married. Since before we were married. He has never once asked
me how I feel about the world and whether I need to be more
protected. We live in one of the few unwalled settlements and the
only weapon we have, apart from Behemoth's formidable
presence, is the knife I gave to him when we were married.
This is a world for the strong, says Semjaza. The strong
survive in a world like this. The weak need protection.
He does not need to tell me that I am weak. The fact that I am
alone in the forest, to be molested at the whim of anyone who
happens to come along, is evidence enough.
And then I feel his arm around my waist. The other arm still
pulls the cart.
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My legs feel unable to support my body. He is sustaining me.
And then his other arm drops the reins of the harness and I am
swept closer to him.
We are face-to-face now.
I am strong, Havilah, he says. Never forget that.
Then he lets go of my waist. I almost drop.
And I am alone in the woods.
Had he violated me, I would not feel less terror than I do now.
I am terrified by the desire I have to feel safe in Semjaza's arms,
yet at the same time, I am sickened by the thought that if I give
in to him, I will perhaps find myself in a place far more evil than
even the Land of Wandering.

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omehow the cart gets pulled to the star map. I do not know
how. I have no strength left in my body after my encounter
with Semjaza.
But Jared is too occupied to notice my weakened state. There
are trees being felled for the giant bonfire. There is some kind of
an argument going on over the location of the fire on the ground
in relation to the sun.
I do not want to walk back through the forest alone. I ask
Jared if Rasujal can be spared to accompany me back to the
house. There is still work to be done there.
Thinking that it is just a matter of hauling back the cart, Jared
says that he will bring the cart back himself and that every man is
needed to prepare for tonight. Then he hurries away.
No doubt there is truth to what Semjaza has said. But, on the
other hand, I do not have bruises on my arms like some of the
other wives here.
Semjaza must have other ways to occupy himself because my
walk back to the house is a solitary one.
Oh Naamah, my sister! How your heart must be breaking
now!
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As the evening approaches, I have offers of assistance from
cousins to carry the remaining food to the star map. We will be at
the map all night and one gets just as hungry as during the day.
So I do not walk the path alone again.
As the sun starts to go down, I am accompanied through the
forest by a whole crowd of men, women and children. We bring
fruit and vegetable pastries, orange juice for the children and
wine for the adults.
I almost forget Semjaza as we arrive at the star map and gather
around the fire.
I look around, realizing for the first time, the map is complete!
What an undertaking it has been. The sons of Avanim and their
wives are all honoured guests. Without their stone quarries, these
maps would not be possible.
Enosh is the one to welcome everyone and proclaim that
again, Yah has been honoured in the achievements of the sons of
Seth. My son, Enoch, is called forward and a special blessing is
requested of Yah so that the next map will bring honour to Yah
too. To the best of my knowledge, no one here knows that
Enoch walks with God and so they do not see what I see. Enoch
is not participating in the prayer. He knows something.
But then Jared is called forward to raise his hands in
supplication to Yah and to ask Yah to walk among us again as he
did with Father Adam in the Garden. To have mercy on our sins
and to keep us from the hands of violent men.
There are violent men standing here, I think.
Then the fire is lit.
In a short time, the blaze lights the whole map just as the sun
lights our day.
At our wedding, not everyone joined in the dance. But this
time, I see that even fewer people seem interested in the sacred
aspect of this evening. While most people gather around the
tables of food and talk on the edges of the darkness, it is the
older people who dance to Yah. With Kalah being cared for by
Tikvah and a cousin who is soon to be married, I join them.
My heavy heart tells me that Yah will not join us, though I
cannot help but look on the outskirts of the forest for him. I try
to forget that Semjaza is also in that forest.
Enoch dances to Yah and I cannot help but watch him before
losing myself in the music. Enoch dances with a lightness and a
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grace. He is not seeking Yah, he has found him and now his
whole being is dedicated to him. While the other men his age
seem eager to talk to their female cousins, he is in a world of his
own.
And soon I am also in a world of my own.
If I cannot have Yah, then at least I can have no one else. For
the time I am moving to the music, I forget that I am the wife of
Jared. I forget that there was every a man named Semjaza. I
forget that I am the mother of Enoch, Rasujal, Tikvah,
Pyramides and Kalah. There is only me. Touching the edges of
the universe and maybe even catching a glimpse of the shadow
of Yah.

With morning comes sleep. Many people fall asleep at the star
map. I have certainly brought enough food that those who are
still awake when morning comes can have a meal before their
sleep. After that, they will have to return to the house.
It is Enoch who helps me carry some of the empty baskets
back to the settlement. Kalah has long since been taken home by
Tikvah. My other sons are still with their cousins.
Typically, Enoch is quiet. Like his father, he does not speak
unless there is a reason to.
Someday you will have your own star map, I say to him. It is
not an idle comment. I hope to learn what it is that he is hiding
from the rest of us.
There will be no more star maps, Mother.
So that is it.
Yah must have told him. But why? Why will there be no more
star maps? I do not ask. It is enough that Enoch knows, for the
heavy burden of building the map would have fallen to him. But
what will the sons of Enosh say when Enoch marries and does
not carry on the tradition?
My mind is too sleepy to give it much thought.
Though Jared is not in our room when I return to the house,
Kalah is in her little bed. I fall down on my bed and almost
immediately join her in sleep.

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ur settlement is still.
I have never experienced it this quiet.
There have always been a few workmen at the house
and of course, many at the map. But the map is completed, the
workmen are home and all our guests long-gone.
Even Jared seems at a loss as to what to do next.
He turns to our sons, who are now grown men.
It is a surprise to him that Enoch is not around very often. I
think he assumed that Enoch was always here, helping me in
some way.
So it is Rasujal who gets his attention. Jared tries to engage
him in the task of maintaining the star map. There are always
minor repairs to be made, grass to be cut, and it is the second
and third sons who help their father. The first son will move away
and start his own settlement someday.
But Rasujal is more interested in his new bow and arrow from
his Uncle Kenaz and which of his cousins he will marry. He also
wants to know when we will start building our wall.
Our wall? Jared repeats.
Our wall of protection, Rasujal says impatiently. We are just
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our family, seated along a large table, for breakfast. In past days,
twenty, or more, other people could have been here with us.
But we hardly have anything to protect, Jared protests. We
are only one house!
There will be more houses in the future, Rasujal insists.
And we should build our wall before the violence comes to us!
Perhaps it is just to keep him busy, but Jared puts Rasujal in
charge of the wall.
And soon Rasujal is teaching us all the art of mixing mortar to
hold stones together. Some settlements have protected
themselves with wooden fences, but we have many unused
smaller stones leftover from the pyramids.
Only the gate is wooden and when our wall is completed,
Jared insists that the gate always be left open. Rasujal is disgusted.
What is the point of a secure wall if you leave the gate
open? he demands.
But Jared is adamant.
We are guardians of the star map. Some people will come
through here on their way to visit it. It should not be closed to
them, no matter what time of day or night they arrive.
No matter. Behemoth, though older now, sleeps within the
walls. He can easily step over them if he needs to get out. He is
truly a gentle giant.
But Rasujal has different plans.
He wants to breed lizards, smaller but more vicious than
Behemoth. They will make terrifying guards and he can sell them
to all the settlements around.
I do not like the idea, but Jared says that since he shows no
inclination to do anything else, we might as well let him. And so,
wooden cages are constructed all around the perimeters of our
property. With some help from his Uncle Kenaz and some of the
cousins, Rasujal takes his bow and arrow and goes out into the
woods, far beyond our settlement, to capture some dragons to
breed. The bow and arrow is just for defence. So as not to harm
the beasts, they are going to be captured with nets.
It is a bloody undertaking and I expect that many of them will
return with injuries. But none of them turn down Rasujal's
proposal. There is much money to be made in settlement security.
Sure enough, when they return several weeks later, though
their cages are full, their arms are scratched and one cousin even
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came close to losing a leg after a dragon bit a chunk of his flesh
out. His cousins had to carry him home on a bed of wooden
boughs. Mercifully, the wound healed instead of becoming
infected, though the man will walk with a limp for the rest of his
life.
Meanwhile, Jared is urging his sons to choose wives who seek
after Yah.
Enoch nods with gravity as this idea is discussed over dinner.
Rasujal, on the other hand, says he knows who he will be
marrying and names one of his cousins. Nava is extraordinarily
beautiful, but as far as I know, has little interest in the ways of
Yah.
I will ask her to be my wife when my first dragon lays an
egg, he says.
The prospect of him bringing this girl back to the settlement
and having her live in my house until Rasujal is able to build his
own house does not cheer me. I have never been able to talk to
Nava on any topic and I have never seen her assist her mother in
any way.
But Enoch is quiet.
It is not until a few weeks later that he tells his father that he
has asked one of his cousins at the settlement of Mahalalel to
marry him. He spent some time there and returned with this
news. Edna is a quiet girl and has none of the beauty of Rasujal's
future wife. But I could not be more pleased. She is the girl one
always sees working in the background. And at the festival of the
star map, she was one of the few younger people dancing around
the fire. She will be a welcome addition to our family.
Jared is slightly puzzled.
He could have any of the women among our settlements,
he says, that night after his talk with Enoch. We are alone in our
bedroom. Kalah is now a young woman with a room of her own.
I nod. Enoch is handsome.
But Edna is so . . .
He does not have to say it. Edna is plain compared to her
sisters.
I smile.
Perhaps Enoch sees her heart, I say.
I suppose that is it, says Jared, as he climbs into bed and
pulls a light cotton sheet over us both, although the temperature
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is steady enough that we do not really need a covering at night. In
fact, our Father Adam and Hawwa used to wander the Garden
unclothed without discomfort. But I have always liked the feeling
of cotton.
Now that our sons are ready for marriage, we have not spoken
of further children. Pyramides is talking of traveling farther
upriver, as I did once. He wants to visit the settlements of Cainan
and Enosh, to select a wife. Apparently, none of the cousins in
Mahalalel's settlement please him.
This is what we discuss as we drift off to sleep.
Perhaps I will accompany him, says Jared. Soon Tikvah and
Kalah will need husbands. And I would like to see the Great
Pyramid . . .

Enoch's wedding brings many people to our settlement once
again. We are honoured by unexpected guests.
Father Adam and Hawwa!
They do not announce their arrival, but simply appear in my
courtyard along with all of the other people who are drinking
mint tea and discussing the next day's wedding.
Father Adam is immediately surrounded by his sons. Hawwa
joins me in by the stove. I nearly drop my tray of fruit pastries.
We hug and she quickly joins me in kneading dough and
assembling more pastries. I tell her she is an honoured guest and
must not work like this. But she just laughs and says she will be
useful.
She wants to know all about Enoch and his wife-to-be. I hint
quietly that Yah is present with Enoch and she nods.
My son Seth told me, she says, also softly. Though there are
people helping with food preparation, we are the only ones at this
table. That is why we are here.
I glance into the house where Father Adam is at the centre of
a large group of men.
Does he long to walk with Yah again?
Hawwa reads my mind.
It is the greatest loss of all, she says, quickly folding some
honey-coated peaches into the dough.
I nod. She does not have to elaborate.
And then she asks me about Rasujal and Pyramides and
Tikvah and Kalah. More of her daughters join us, wanting to talk
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to her.
I shoo her away, saying I am selfish to keep her all to myself.
She laughs and says we will talk more later.
I am left to wonder if the presence of Father Adam will draw
Yah out to dance with his children once again.

A creation without a Creator.
I am bitterly disappointed. Though our son is now married
and Edna is a blessed welcome in my home, Yah did not appear
at Enoch's wedding.
I know Hawwa is as disheartened as I am. Though she keeps a
pleasant face when we embrace and say goodbye, I can read the
frustration in her eyes.
I do not know how others survive the loss of Yah.
It is Edna who explains it to me.
We work together in the courtyard while Jared and Enoch
construct their new home.
They live as if the creation is all that there is, she says to me.
They speak with awe about the grass and the trees and the sky
and forget that it was Yah who made it. My own mother speaks
about flowers as if they are sacred.
You are so right, I say, as I take this in. I have been alone in
my settlement for so long that I have not realized this until now.
Edna's mother has her whole house surrounded by flowering
bushes. Anything that blossoms or blooms is arranged with
stunning effect.
At Enoch's wedding under the stars, people spoke as if the
stars themselves were worthy of worship.
It is the pain of not having Yah, I say. They turn to his
creation as a substitute.
Edna shakes her head as she adds some more flour to the
bread dough.
It is not to compensate for his loss. They no longer desire
him. His creation has become enough for them.
It is bewildering, but I know it is true. I would gladly suffer
desire all my life and never have it satisfied, than to long for
anything less than Yah.
Edna brings a new addition to the settlement. She has
domesticated a wildcat. Hatoul is small and lovely, but ferocious
to those she does not count as her friends. She is even willing to
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take on Behemoth, although her claws have no effect on his thick
skin. He merely yawns when she hurls herself at his leg.
But she is as docile as a baby when she is in Edna's arms.
Jared says Hatoul should be in a cage like Rasujal's lizards. But
before he can follow up on this threat, an event changes Hatoul's
outlook. Hatoul becomes a mother.
She still maintains her ferocity toward anything that threatens
her seven young ones. But motherhood softens her and soon she
is leading her young ones throughout our settlement, obviously
the proud parent. One of her little ones attaches himself to Jared
and soon everywhere Jared goes, little Chataltuol is behind him.
The small cats freely roam our settlement and seem to take
particular delight in goading Rasujal's lizards in their cages. They
walk by the cages, just out of reach of the lizard's claws and soon
the whole wall is a cacophony of screeching animals.
Rasujal must make a communal cage in order for his lizards to
reproduce after their own kind. All of us, including Hatoul and
all her little ones, hide in the house on the day he must move the
creatures to the one cage. I resign myself to losing my second
son in this business venture of his. But his determination to stay
alive matches their determination to do him harm and he corrals
them all into one enclosed structure.
They are left alone for a few days and soon, there are eggs.
Rasujal announces triumphantly that he will now take Nava as
his wife. And so we begin to plan for another wedding.
One night at dinner, Rasujal suggests that we have had too
many events at the star map and perhaps we could have his
wedding somewhere else.
What is better than the star map? Jared demands, almost
rising from his chair. We all just stare at Rasujal. Enoch and Edna
are still with us, although their home is nearly finished. It will not
be too soon. Edna is expecting their first child.
Rasujal knows better than to pursue this line of thought and
quickly says, the star map it will be.
I wonder whether it was his idea, or Nava's, to choose a
different location. In any case, it is unthinkable that the children
of the guardian of the star map would marry anywhere else.
I am spared from too much involvement with the wedding.
Nava's mother arrives, accompanied by several of her sons for
protection, to discuss the upcoming event. While Rasujal shows
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his dragons to his future brothers-in-law, she and I drink
lemonade in the courtyard.
What she suggests for the upcoming wedding is well beyond
anything the sons of Seth have ever done before. Quite frankly, I
will be embarrassed to host such an event. I realize now it must
have been her who wanted a different locale for the whole
wedding.
Like me, she appreciates cotton. She proposes a vast white
tent not unlike the ones that Jabal used to live in, but on a much
larger scale. The vast splendour of the star map does not seem to
impress her. We must find a spot for her tent somewhere amid
the stone structures.
The next thing to discuss is flowers. Flowers will be
everywhere. For this, she suggests we call on Edna's mother.
Fine, I say. She will be coming to stay with us soon. Edna's
first child is expected any day now. . .
She is hardly listening.
Now, your vegetable pastries are lovely, she tells me. They
are the talk of the settlements.
I find that highly unlikely.
However, she continues. You must not carry this load
alone. I suggest . . .
She and Nava do not want the rough pastries that have served
us well in the past. They are thinking of more delicate treats. This
will mean much planning and the traders will have to be called on
to bring in more exotic fare.
I sigh and lean back in my chair and concentrate on my
lemonade. This is beyond me. But it does not seem as if anything
is expected of me anyhow.
It is only at the end that I am told what is required of me.
I know that dress you were married in is lovely, says Nava's
mother. But perhaps a new dress would be something to
consider.
My wedding dress is what I wear to all the special occasions. It
is simple and flattering without being conspicuous. Nava's
mother pulls out a sample of fabric and shows it to me. I take it
and look at it. It is cream-coloured and feels smooth and soft and
delicate. Quite unlike anything I have ever worn.
What is it? I ask.
The traders call it silk, she says. There is a settlement,
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among the sons of . . . oh, I forget who, that is entirely devoted
to making it. It has something to do with worms but you would
never know it to feel it.
I hand back the cloth.
Nava's dress will be made of it, she continues. Of course,
she will be the centre of attention. But the rest of us must not be
too drab.
I am certain that Nava's mother has no intention of being too
drab, so the comment is for my sake.
Very well then. I will make myself a dress.
Standing up, Nava's mother says that if I cannot assemble
something appropriate in time, then perhaps she has something
that might do . . .
I stand up and say that I think I will be able to pull something
together for the occasion.
Then, much to Rasujal's disconcertion, Nava's mother wants
to see what progress has been made on the house that he is
building for her daughter.
Sadly, it is next to nothing. The land has been allotted to him,
and Jared and Enoch have cleared enough of the forest that it is a
good size for a home. The trees are just sitting waiting for Rasujal
to take the next step and actually start building. But he has been
so busy with his dragons.
Nava's mother is not impressed with his dragons but her sons
are. One of them is even going to purchase one for his family's
protection. My feeling about that is, who will protect his family
from the dragon?

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Chapter Eighteen
remember Roeh's sheep and his lively mother, the first two
people I met who were not children of Cain.
My dress for Rasujal's wedding is made of soft wool. I go
all out and even dye it with the juice of some of my raspberries
which makes it a light pink, not unlike the colour of some of the
flowers provided by Edna's mother.
But no one is looking at me. It is the bride who has everyone's
attention in her long, flowing silk robe, with golden thread woven
around the edges.
Whereas a wedding in the past celebrated a love of Yah for his
people and the idea that a man and a woman represent Yah's
image, this wedding is all about the love of Rasujal for Nava. It is
praised as if his love is something to be sought after. I know my
son and know that he is not worthy of such homage.
More tellingly, there is no star dance scheduled for the
evening, only an abundance of food and talk. I can barely stand it
the conversation centring on personal achievements and
ambitions - and return to the house early to check on Edna and
her new son, Methuselah. Edna has been spared the bother of
finding a dress for this occasion, having given birth only a week
I
162
ago.
Enoch has given his son a peculiar name, Methuselah. It
means, In the year he dies, it will be judgement. Edna is well
aware that her son has an unusual name. Although she agrees
with me, she does not speak of it any further. I suspect that
Enoch is more open with her than he is with me. Not that there
is distance between us, but it is inevitable that a husband and wife
should share more.
Although Nava's mother was the force in creating this whole
wedding, she is nowhere in sight when it comes time to clean up.
Jared does not want the star map cluttered with remnants of
the wedding and much to Rasujal's disgust, he has his second son
out of bed and with him the next day, cleaning up the plain. I
become the owner of a large tent for which I have no use. Folded
up, it is compact and I haul it upstairs to give to Nava. Perhaps
her mother can use it again for another wedding.
Knocking on the door, I hear a sweet voice say, Come in!
Nava is seated in front of a glass, running a comb through her
hair.
Oh, it's only you, she says. The voice has completely
changed.
Yes, I say, deciding to ignore the rudeness. After all, we will
have to live in this settlement for the rest of our earthly lives. I
drag the rolled-up tent into the large room. I have come to
return this.
She glances at it.
I have no use for it, she says.
Perhaps your mother would like it back . . .
Nava shrugs. She is twisting her hair on the top of her head
and examining the effect in the mirror.
If there is another wedding . . .
Nava shrugs again.
If there is another wedding, she can get another one.
OK, my dear, I say. I pick up the heavy bundle and decide
that perhaps the traders will have some use for it.
Shut the door on you way out . . . oh, never mind. I will do it
myself, I hear my daughter-in-law say behind me.
I shake my head. Life was never perfect, but I wonder if I will
be able to tolerate this new situation.
Not wanting the tent just sitting in my courtyard, I take it
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straight outside. Jared and Rasujal are back at the star map, this
time to retrieve the tables. At least the remains of the food and
the flowers can be left behind.
I load the tent into my cart and go over to a large shed that
now houses our ponies. At one point, I decided that if Edna can
tame a wildcat, I can tame a few ponies and so now they are at
our disposal whenever we need them.
I know I am being foolish, but I decide to just head for the
river and wait for the traders. Part of me is weary, weary of this
life without Yah. It makes me indifferent to my own safety. My
children need me less-and-less and now I have the prospect of
living with a vain, self-centred daughter-in-law until my son
builds her a house. Since Rasujal is only ambitious when it comes
to projects that interest him, I may have Nava in my home for
quite some time.
The forest that runs along the river is not as dense as the one
that borders the star map. But there are still some useful things to
harvest along the way. I spot an active beehive up in a tree and
make note of its location to tell Jared. I pause to pick some
almonds from a bush. They will be appreciated if the traders take
awhile. I also pick some asparagus. It will make a quick evening
meal.
I arrive at the riverbank. The majestic Tigris, impassable
without a boat, is soothing after the troubles of the settlement. I
unharness the pony so he can graze among the tall grass. I sit
down and watch the river, but as time passes, it is obvious I will
be here awhile.
While I wait, I harvest some arrowroot that grows along the
river. The boiled rootstock makes a pleasant change from
potatoes.
Just as I am beginning to get edgy, thinking that Jared will
return and find me gone, I see a trader's boat in the distance. The
current is strong today and it is not long before I am waving
them down to stop at our small dock.
Mercifully, these are not the type of men with the knives and
the scars from fighting with the knives. These are the kind of
traders who deal in items very much like the tent I want to trade
with. They have items that are useful, but not especially valuable.
The head-trader is interested in the tent, but of course, it is of
little value to him unless he can find someone who wants it.
164
It was for a wedding, I say. It can hold 500 people.
Ahh, he says, recognizing the potential of such an item.
Yes, that might interest some people.
It is a matter of indifference to me what I obtain in return.
But in order to turn the conversation to the children of Cain, I
inquire as to whether he has any metal items by the craftsman,
Tubal-Cain.
Ah, yes, he nods. Some beautiful items. Copper plates.
A pot, perhaps? I say.
Many pots, says the trader, signalling for one of his men to
go down below and bring a few up for my selection.
And how are the children of Cain? I ask, casually.
The city of Cain is peopled by giants, he grumbles.
And the children of Cain? I ask. Are they well?
They prosper. The trader shrugs. It is unusual for a
daughter of Seth to inquire about the children of Cain.
I do not know how to reply, but then a voice among the
traders speaks up.
Havilah was raised among the children of Cain.
It is Semjaza!
What is he doing among the traders? I did not notice him
because he was sitting down on the deck with a group of them.
Now he stands up and comes forward, just as a couple of the
traders come up the steps carrying a large black pot between
them, followed by some other men with smaller pots.
I think this one will do for Havilah, says Semjaza, taking
hold of the large pot and effortlessly stepping off the boat to the
deck, putting it on my cart. She is the wife of an important man
and has many people coming and going from her settlement.
I am just staring.
The trader does not seem to care. One pot for the tent is a
reasonable exchange. He bids me good day and then calls to
Semjaza to get back on board if he wants.
I will visit with my lady, Semjaza calls back.
There is some snickering among the traders. I have heard it
said that among the traders there are men who have a lady in
almost every settlement.
Do I have to pull this today? Semjaza asks, pointing to the
cart.
I shake my head.
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I have a pony . . . somewhere. I look around. That wretched
animal is nowhere in sight. Tired of waiting, he has probably
returned to the settlement. I still have a ways to go in
domesticating these ponies.
Semjaza laughs.
His laugh is rich and seems to contain music. But I cannot
entertain any idea of being with him. There is something about
him . . . I am certain he is in opposition to Yah in some way,
although I am helpless to explain his presence here among the
sons of Adam.
Once again, Semjaza is pulling my cart.
I never see you with your husband, Havilah, he says to me,
as we walk back.
When do you ever see me? I demand.
I see you all the time, he says, smiling without looking at me.
For example, that tent you traded was from you son's wedding.
Of course you know that, I say sharply. I said as much to
the trader.
Your daughter-in-law wore a white silk robe with golden trim
around the edges. Quite a lovely-looking girl, but I doubt your
son will be happy with her. The guests feasted on honey pastries,
mangoes and bananas, and a particularly expensive delicacy
known as truffles. Female pigs are used to discover them . . .
You only know that because you are among the traders now,
I say. I recall Nava's mother mentioning that we would be
depending on them.
I know because I was there.
This is unsettling.
But perhaps what is even more unsettling is that he is right. If
he sees me, it is probably not with Jared. It is not for lack of
desire on my part. Jared is simply never around.
Jared is busy, I say. First it was the star map. Then it was
Enoch's home. Now I suppose it will be Rasujal's home.
But what Semjaza says next is even more disturbing.
No, my lady. He has booked a passage with the traders for
him and your son, Pyramides. They will be gone for half the time
it takes the earth to go around the sun.
I stop walking.
It vaguely comes back to me that Jared said something about
going to visit the Great Pyramid. But with Semjaza here by my
166
side, that idea seems particularly menacing to my well- being.
I will most likely be near him the whole time, says Semjaza,
reading my mind. I would not dare visit you while your husband
is gone. It would not be fair to him.
Such arrogance. But I do not like the idea of Jared being
haunted by Semjaza on his pilgrimage to the Great Pyramid.
I will tell Jared that he will see you . . . I begin to say coldly,
but am interrupted.
Oh, but he will not.
What manner of man is this? Semjaza disappears into the
woods when we are within sight of the settlement. I continue on
with the heavy cart. With effort, Jared lifts the pot for me and
carries it to a stand in the courtyard where I can kindle a fire
underneath it when needed. I follow with my asparagus and
arrowroot. Although he chides me for going alone to the
riverbank, Jared praises my trade saying he never wanted to see
that silly tent again, or any other reminder of that wedding.
Jared, I say, hesitantly, as we return outside. No doubt he
will dash off somewhere. I will not see him until the evening
meal and then again, only briefly when it is time to sleep.
Yes, Baraka, he says, pausing slightly.
Semjaza was in the woods, I say.
Jared stops. Wherever he was going is forgotten for the
moment.
Baraka! Why did you not tell me?
I am telling you, I say.
I will cancel my journey with Pyramides, he says
immediately, thinking out loud.
It will not be necessary, I say. Semjaza travels with the
traders now. He is more likely to be with you than with me.
Jared does not look convinced.
I have Enoch to look after me, I say. And Yah, I add.
I will have to think about it, Jared says, looking angry. Not at
me, I hope. Where is he now?
Somewhere in the woods, I say. He comes and goes.
Scanning the perimeters of our settlement, Jared seems
satisfied that Semjaza is not skulking about. I would not be so
sure. But Jared announces he has work to do back at the star
map, and though it is already late, he will be back for the evening
meal when he can.
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Wearily, I go upstairs. I do something that only children do
and curl up on my bed and have a nap.

It is agreed that Jared and Pyramides will follow through with
their plan to visit the Great Pyramid. Enoch is instructed to
protect me, a greater necessity now that a sad event has befallen
our settlement. Behemoth is dead.
My faithful friend just lay down one day and did not get up. I
knew he was growing older, but it was still a shock to go outside,
give him a gentle nudge and have him not move.
I wept for nearly a day.
Rasujal immediately offered one of his beasts as a new lizard
guard, but I have no desire to befriend another of Behemoth's
kind and most certainly, not one of Rasujal's vicious beasts.
Enoch, Edna, young Methuselah and I walk down to the river
to see Jared and Pyramides off on their journey. When the
traders arrive and dock, I nervously scan the deck for Semjaza.
But there is no sign of him. That means nothing, of course. He
could be down below.
We wish Jared and Pyramides God speed and then we return
slowly to the settlement. This is Edna's first walk since having
Methuselah and she wants to stretch it out. We pause to harvest
some more asparagus. Edna goes a little ways when she sees
some blackberries. It is the leaves that she wants. They make a
refreshing tea in the morning, freshening the breath. Edna has
come up with many new teas for us to drink, including raspberry
leaf tea and rose hip tea.
She is so skilled with her brews that I laughingly promise her
our own trip to visit Hawwa, bearing gifts of the new beverages
for her, someday when Methuselah is older.
I do not expect to see Semjaza in the forest when I am
accompanied by Enoch and Edna. But as Edna and Methuselah
return to their home and Enoch walks me back to my own front
porch, he says to me, You have nothing to fear, Mother. Yah is
watching you.
I try to keep the tears from my eyes as I kiss my son's cheek.
Thank you, I whisper.
He nods and smiles before heading toward his home and his
awaiting family.
He and Yah must have discussed matters that I have never
168
discussed with Enoch. I wish I could be the one to talk with Yah,
but it is enough to know that Yah is nearby. If Yah is watching,
then I most certainly do not have to fear the lurking presence of
Semjaza. Yah created the heavens and the earth. Though Semjaza
may not be a son of Adam, he is certainly a creation of Yah.
What manner of creation is anyone's guess.
I go inside to my quiet house. Nava is, no doubt, in her room
fixing her hair. Rasujal is out with his ferocious lizards. Kalah is
staying with Enoch and Edna, to help with the household chores
in these early days of Methuselah's life.
Tikvah is probably in the courtyard.
But when I pass by the central terrace, it is empty.
She must be in her room.
As far as I am concerned, while Jared is away, Nava can take
full responsibility for feeding her Rasujal. Tikvah and I can
prepare our own meals.
I go upstairs to let Tikvah know that though I will bake bread
everyday, she and I can eat as we please and not at any set time.
But Tikvah is not in her room.
I knock on Nava's door, just in case she's visiting with her
sister-in-law. Nava, who does no work around here, is annoyed
that I interrupt her nap. I am informed that Tikvah is not there
and the door almost gets shut in my face.
She must be out, strolling the settlement, maybe with Rasujal.
But Rasujal is feeding his lizards and Tikvah is not with him.
Now I am starting to get alarmed.
Despite that I have never known my daughter to go to the star
map by herself, I hurry along the path to see if she is there.
There is always a first time. Perhaps my daughter is like me, and
longs to get closer to Yah . . .
But my daughter is nowhere to be seen. I cover the whole
plain and circle the larger pyramids, but there is no one here.
My eyes cannot help but wander over the edges of the forest,
but there is no Yah either. I return to the settlement, now
thoroughly alarmed.
My son has just told me that Yah is watching me and I have
nothing to fear, but now I am more afraid than I have ever been.
My first stop is at Enoch's house.
Enoch answers and immediately understands my concern. He
does not need too many words. Tikvah is missing. That is all he
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needs to know.
He goes to talk to Rasujal and returns to report that Rasujal
has not seen her all day. Edna is preparing me a soothing cup of
raspberry leaf tea.
Did Yah say anything about this? I demand. I cannot help it.
It is my daughter we are talking about, not me. For myself, I do
not care if harm comes to me, but if anything happens to
Tikvah . . .
Enoch hesitates before speaking.
Yah can be trusted, he says, joining us at the table and
accepting a cup of tea from Edna.
I know, I say impatiently. But these are violent times.
Someone could have come from outside and taken her . . .
Again, my son hesitates.
When he does speak, it is with regret.
It is my belief she went off willingly.
Willingly? What do you mean? Where would she go . . .?
I have seen her, he says.
When? I demand. If he has seen her, why did he not tell
me?
Many times. Out in the forest.
Speak, Enoch! I say, putting my cup down on the table.
What is it that I do not know?
With someone.
With who? I ask, impatiently. A man of few words is fine,
so long as one does not need information. One of her cousins?
The one known as Semjaza.

170

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Chapter Nineteen
cannot speak at first.
The idea that Semjaza might approach Tikvah has never
occurred to me. The very thought! Is it possible that my own
daughter would be so foolish? I have told them the story of my
arrival among the children of Seth and they know that my
adopted sister is married to Semjaza in my place. Although I have
not gone into great detail, they all know he is not to be trusted.
Impossible, I say, but already my mind has raced ahead to
the possibility that Tikvah has gone off with Semjaza. Semjaza
told me that he would be along the Tigris, where your father and
Pyramides journey. He promised to leave me alone.
Even as I say it, I try to recall his exact words. Something
about it not being fair to Jared . . .
But as I recall the whole conversation, I realize there is no
reason to dismiss the idea that Tikvah might be with Semjaza.
But why did Tikvah keep this from me? I ask. Why did
you?
I did because Yah told me to, Enoch says. And I would
guess that Tikvah kept it from you because she would not be
expecting your approval.
I
172
I am stunned.
That my daughter would keep something from me is
insignificant compared to Yah keeping it from me.
What manner of God is Yah? I demand.
Enoch smiles.
When you know him as I do, you know there is only good in
him. And whether Tikvah comes to harm is a small matter. She
does not serve Yah.
The truth of this hits me like a stone.
But I do not think Yah would let harm come to her, says
Enoch quickly. For your sake, Mother.
I look down at my hands. I hardly know what to say.
But that is only my opinion. Enoch whispers this last
statement.
I groan.
Yah is compassionate, says Enoch. And then he falls into
silence. It is probably the longest discussion he and I have ever
had.
And I understand what he is saying. Though Tikvah is my
daughter, she is not a seeker of Yah. If he watches over her, it is
only for my peace of mind. Yah is compassionate. But he has
promised nothing to Enoch in this matter.
So what do I do now? I ask quietly.
Edna comes around the table and sits beside me, taking my
hand.
You wait, says Enoch.

To wait is the hardest thing.
I would rather go dashing through the forest, calling out for
Tikvah, calling out for Semjaza even. Or to make Enoch go out
and find Yah and demand that something be done. Much to my
annoyance, Enoch has quietly left the house without telling me
where he has gone.
I am alone with my thoughts, although Edna keeps my
company. Edna is not one of these women who feel the need to
fill all silence with talk and so she is tactfully quiet. Later, we are
joined by Methuselah, who has no such approach to life. He feels
silence must be filled with giggles, burbles and many and varied
attempts at talk. Edna's attention is taken up by him and soon I
am left with a cup of cold tea and a sense that I am utterly alone.
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173
Even if I could find Tikvah, how could I persuade her that
Semjaza is not the right man for her? He is tall, he is handsome,
he is everything a woman could want. And what can I offer
Tikvah? Myself ? Life here in a quiet settlement with an ageing
mother and a distracted father?
Even if Jared returns with the announcement that he has
secured a husband for Tikvah, what man could tempt her from
Semjaza who knows the names of far-away planets and has seen
the stars?
Wearily, I realize that I am not waiting anymore for Tikvah to
return, I am merely waiting for the strength to get up and carry
on.
Enoch comes back. He has not been idle.
He has gone through the woods, though he does not say
whether it was to look for Tikvah or to seek out Yah. But he does
not return with Tikvah.
That is when I know it is over.
I stand up and thank both him and Edna. They look startled.
I tell them that I will be in my home if anyone needs me. As I
head out, I turn back to say to my eldest son, Please send word
to your father of the situation.
He nods.
I cross the clearing that is our settlement, now dim with the
sun below the trees. It is over. That is what my heart is saying
again and again. It is over. It is over.
My daughter has gone off with Semjaza.
Only Yah knows where.
I might never see her again, but in Yah's mercy, I can plainly
see that she will not be missing me. She longs for Semjaza in the
way that I long for Yah. Wherever she goes, whatever troubles
she faces, she will not ache for me in the way I ache for her right
now. This pain is entirely mine.

Enoch stops by the next afternoon to let me know that he
waved down a boatload of traders and asked them to pass on the
message to the two travellers, if they see them.
It is only a hope, he says. If we do not hear back from
them in a week, I will go myself.
Your father would not want that, I say. Send Rasujal.
Enoch smiles.
174
Perhaps one of the cousins can be persuaded to go, he says.
Do not worry, Mother. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek
before returning to his own family.
Nava comes downstairs. I did not tell her Tikvah was missing,
but she has probably gathered as much from Rasujal because she
is eager to talk.
I pour her a cup of mint tea and brace myself.
She asks me if Tikvah is OK.
I say, to the best of my knowledge.
Was she . . . taken against her will? Nava leans forward, half-
thrilled, half-horrified by the thought.
My laugh is genuine.
No.
Is she returning to us soon?
She would be the one to ask.
Is she to be married? The girl has no sense of tact.
She is old enough, I say.
Nava sips her tea. I can see her visibly straining to think of
another question.
But I get up and tell her that I am going to take a walk to the
star map. She can feel free to help herself to whatever she needs
to prepare an evening meal for her and Rasujal. She opens her
mouth, but before she can speak, I am halfway to the door.
Food has lost all appeal for me. I am glad that Kalah is at
Edna's house, being fed and looked after. I would not be much
of a mother to her these days.
Though it is getting dark by the time I arrive at the star map, I
am unalarmed. I doubt I will be seeing Semjaza anymore. And
marauders are usually in more populated areas. No one steals
pyramids and too few people visit them to be accosted.
Oh Yah, I say, out loud as I walk among the grand
structures, only so recently completed. My daughter is missing.
But I guess you know that.
I do.
I am startled. I look around. But in the darkness, I cannot see
anything.
I do not know what to do, I continue.
There is no reply.
But I imagine you know what to do, I add. And that is
sufficient.
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175
I do not hear the voice again as I move around the star map.
Jared could tell me about the stars that each pyramid represents,
but Jared is not here.

I sleep more now, even during the days.
I am up in my room sleeping when Jared returns to the
settlement. I hear Rasujal call out a greeting to him. Quickly, I get
out of my bed and hurry downstairs to greet him as he comes
through the door.
Wife, what is this?
I do not even get an embrace. Jared is agitated.
I nod.
It is true, I say. Tikvah is gone.
How could you let such a thing happen . . .? I think even as
he is saying it, he realizes it is an unfair accusation.
I think you should talk to Enoch, I say, gently, taking his
arm. He is the best one to talk to.
Of course, says Jared. You must be sick with grief. He
pats my arm before hurrying off toward Enoch's home.
I step outside and watch him cross the settlement.
But I am not sick with grief. Resignation has set in and it
leaves me weary.
I survey the settlement. I do not see Pyramides. Have I lost
two children?
I go back into the house. I doubt very much that Jared will
want a lavish welcome-home meal, but I should, at least, prepare
something simple.
When, at last, he comes home, I have a vegetable soup and
some flat bread.
We eat it together at the long table.
Where is Pyramides? I ask.
I left him at the settlement of Enosh, he says, absently. He
liked it there.
Probably a pretty cousin.
Jared does not seem interested in talking. He must know now
that Tikvah has been spending time with Semjaza. I do not know
whether he is angry or whether he is hurt. It is not until the end
of the meal that he speaks.
I have failed her, he says. I should have found her a
husband sooner.
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I am not entirely sure that would have helped. Semjaza is far
more charming than any son of Seth, particularly if one does not
consider the matters of Yah to be important.
We might never see her again, he says.
It is possible that we might, I say. He left Naamah after she
bore him five children.
The disheartened look on Jared's face makes me wish I had
not spoken. Still, it is the truth.
Where do you think he has taken her? Jared asks.
The world is big. I stir my uneaten soup, now cold. Of
course, it is possible he took her back to the city of Cain. It is
the only place I can think of. I cannot imagine he and Tikvah
travelling up and down the Tigris with the traders. Jared has also
hardly touched his soup. I stand up and take our soup bowls into
the courtyard, still within hearing distance of Jared.
But what he says next makes me think I misheard him.
Then we will go to the city of Cain, he says.
Quickly, I put down the bowls on a table and hurry back into
our dining room.
But we are children of Seth, I say. We would never be
welcome there . . .
You have family there, he points out. They were kind to
you and you were not a child of Cain.
He is right, of course. But I just never thought I would go
back. As much as I have desired to visit my sister, Naamah and
my brother, Tubal-Cain, I have been equally afraid to depart from
the presence of Yah.
But you are a guardian of a star map, I say. You cannot
leave.
What good have the star maps done us? he says, standing.
We build them and Yah does not come. His voice is rising.
And now a man who stands against Yah has entered my
settlement and taken my daughter. If I have to give my very life
to bring her back, I will.
I try not to sigh out loud.
What my husband does not realize is that Tikvah might not
want to come back.
I return to the courtyard to clean the bowls and put them
away. Despite my protest, there is really very little to consider.
If my husband travels among the children of Cain, then I will
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177
go with him.

178

179
Part Four

180

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Chapter Twenty
he world has changed.
Nothing is the same as the journey that brought me
here.
We are walking it, just as I did those many years ago. Jared
wants to find out if Tikvah is in any of the settlements along the
way. The first one we come to is the one of our father, Mahalalel.
Only Mahalalel is told about Tikvah. All the rest are not aware of
the real reason for our visit.
In fact, they do not realize that we are heading east. They will
assume that we have simply come to see our father and then
return home.
I stop off in Chaya's home.
Like me, she has aged, both in her heart and on her face.
As we sit together in her courtyard, the conversation is light. I
cannot talk to her about what really matters to me, Tikvah and
Yah. And she is not free to talk for the presence of her husband,
an overbearing man who seems to have an opinion on everything
that is of no importance. He talks while she prepares us a drink.
By coincidence, Chaya serves me the same drink as Roeh's
mother did when I passed through the settlement of Dalath.
T
182
This is cocoa, I say, surprised. I am told it is a bean grown
by the sons of Seth who live near the Gihon.
Chaya nods.
Kenaz's wife is from there, she says. Her parents bring it
whenever they visit us. The children love it.
It keeps them awake at night, says Chaya's husband. If it
were left to me, I would serve them only lemon tea. But a man
does not rule his own house. He laughs. Judging by the cowed
mannerism of my sister, I know very well he does rule his own
house.
We stay only one night at Mahalalel's home. He wishes us God
speed on our journey and promises to keep ears open for news
of Tikvah.
We set out early and are within sight of Zayin by late
afternoon. One thing I notice is how many more people there
are. Whereas I walked along a quiet riverbank to get here, now
there is activity all along the way. Most of it is harmless, everyday
labour, but some of it is menacing. Two men approach us just
outside of Zayin and say they have fallen on hard times and need
money to return to their settlement. Jared sharply points out to
them that there are plenty of fields around here that need
harvesting and they should have no trouble finding work to earn
the money.
Then a knife comes out.
I scream. But Jared is prepared. He grabs the man's arm and
twists it behind his back, causing the knife to fall. As his partner
lunges for it, I manage to grab it while at the same time,
accidentally grazing his face with it. Now it is his turn to scream.
I am so shaken up, I start screaming again.
And then some nearby farmhands come over to see what is
happening. I am not entirely sure that it is to assist us, but the
result of it all is that our attackers hurry off and we carry on into
Zayin.
After our experience, my legs are weak. Jared asks where I
stayed when I first came here. I tell him about Yafeh, but doubt
that she would remember me. In any case, there is now some
kind of a guesthouse for travellers by the central plaza.
We enter the three-story wooden building and find the
communal area filled with traders lounging on cushions and
drinking wine. Moving through the large room and into the
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courtyard we encounter an overworked boy feeding an
assortment of pack animals. There are even some tame lizards,
tied up, among the ponies and goats. He tells us his father owns
the guesthouse and we will probably find him somewhere . . .
The boy waves a vague hand.
We finally find the man in an outer building that serves as a
cooking area. Like us, he has one of Tubal-Cain's stoves. A large
woman is pulling trays of pastries out while a huge pot cooks
some kind of stew on top. The husband seems to be supervising
his wife more than assisting her and immediately turns his
attention to us.
He wants to know who we are, where we're from. Jared is
even better at me than deflecting questions. We end up with a
third-story room, overlooking the courtyard.
The room is filthy. Obviously there is no consideration for the
next traveller who will have to stay in it. Mud footprints are caked
on the floor. The bed itself is nothing more than a large board on
legs. There is a window, but it does not have glass or a screen, so
bugs can freely fly in.
Jared looks at the room with grim disapproval but then
suggests that we mingle in the town and see what news we can
pick up.
I should have left you back in the room, says Jared, when it
becomes obvious that the women out at night seem to be there
for men's amusement only.
I would not have felt any safer there, I assure him.
There is only one tavern in Zayin, but it is filled with men and
only the occasional woman.
We enter the tavern and take a table in the corner.
Jared orders two mugs of wine and then leans across the table
to tell me not to drink it when it comes. I nod. Wine is an ever-
present feature at our star map celebrations, but here the drinking
is different. It is to excess and I notice to my horror that one
man, who has passed out, is having his pockets searched by a
fellow patron of the tavern. What few coins are found are
triumphantly carried off to purchase another round of drinks.
Since we are not traders or children of Zayin, we are soon
noticed by some of the patrons.
Welcome, strangers! one calls out, holding up his mug in
salutation.
184
Jared nods a return greeting.
What brings you to Zayin? another man calls out.
We visit my wife's family, says Jared.
Now they all look at me.
Are you a daughter of Zayin?
Jared answers for me.
We are leaving for the settlement of Dalath tomorrow, he
answers, truthfully, though the men take it to mean that that is my
family.
Oh, I never go there anymore, says one man, shaking his
head. Too many of those hideous sons of Cain.
I am surprised. Have the sons of Cain started moving among
the other sons of Adam?
Jared asks the same question.
It is obvious you have not been there in a while, says the
man, shaking his head again.
Are they marauders? Jared asks.
No, someone else calls out. They are just big and Phobo is
afraid of everything.
Everyone in the tavern laughs. They have all stopped talking
among themselves to take part in this conversation.
No, but it is true, someone else says. Phobo is right. They
take our women. And they take the most beautiful ones.
Jared and I look at each other.
And why would they do that? Jared asks, casually.
There is shrugging.
They do not seem to have women of their own, someone
puts forth.
And they come from the city of Cain? asks Jared.
There is nodding.
Now Jared and I have something to think about. Have the
brothers of Semjaza decided to live elsewhere?
But they live among the children of Dalath, says one man.
I have a sister there. Yah be praised, she is very plain and does
not have to worry about their attention.
Everyone in the tavern laughs.
But it is true, says his drinking companion. They take the
beautiful ones and leave the plain ones for the rest of us.
There is much agreement on this point, but clearly, no man in
the room is willing to do anything about it.
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When we return to the room, Jared says, She may be in
Dalath.
We can hope, I answer, gingerly sitting down on the plank
that is the bed. It creaks. If only I had discussed with Semjaza
what our future life would have been like had I gone away with
him, we would have had a good idea of where Tikvah is now.
Jared sits down beside me.
I am just as glad you did not.
We smile at each other.
There is no getting comfortable on this bed. The board serves
only one purpose and that is to keep us off the floor, which is
crawling with insects now that the room is dark. The flying ones
buzz around us and Jared falls asleep swatting them.
We wake up stiff. Jared groans. I can barely move. How the
traders stand it, I do not know.
I discover how the traders do it when we go downstairs in
search of a morning meal. Many of the traders have passed out
on the cushions in the communal room. I guess so long as you
pay for a room, the proprietor does not care where you sleep.
We head outside, not intending to return.
The market square is slowly and lazily coming to life. Some
traders have already set up their wares. I am alarmed by the
number of weapons, knives in particular. It is not possible that
Tubal-Cain and his craftsman are making all of these. Other men
must have learnt the secrets of metal. As we pass by a wooden
display case full of knives, I observe that the craftsmanship is not
that of my brother. It is poor and rough. In a gruesome way, to
be killed by a knife that Tubal-Cain made would be more
desirable. It would be a quick, clean insertion.
Jared buys us some fruit we do not normally see among the
sons of Seth mangos and bananas. We also get some bread to
go.
And then it is back to the path that runs along the river. It is a
wider path than the one I travelled on as a young woman. People
now move along it with carts pulled by horses or large
domesticated dogs. We often have to step aside onto the grass to
let overloaded wagons pass.
As we approach Dalath, there is a visible change among some
of the people. Definitely taller and all around bigger. They look
young though. Jared takes my hand. It is a protective gesture. But
186
entirely needless. Though large, the people do not seem intent on
anything but their business.
Dalath is now a walled city. The fields outside are covered with
barleys and other grains, as well as the cotton plant that makes
the material I love so much.
My memory utterly fails me in identifying any of the
landmarks. Everything has changed.
We enter through the open gates, passing large men carrying
large loads and large women carrying large children. It is a long
time since I have been a child, but I do remember the feeling of
being small. It is how I feel now.
Unlike some of the towns that keep their commercial
transactions in the centre in the marketplace, Dalath is entirely
devoted to buying and selling. Small shops line every street we
turn down. Apartments are built on top. Not only are there shops
with large swathes of cotton, ready to be altered in any way, there
are also shops with every manner of item made of the material.
Some stores sell just barley and grain. Others have more of a
variety of produce. One little stand is entirely devoted to selling
fruit juices to drink as you walk. The juice is poured into a small
wooden cup that can be returned for a partial refund or kept if
the person desires.
There is not just one tavern, but at least three. And there are
places to eat that are more respectable with tables and chairs
and people to bring you a plate of food as if you were a guest in
a home.
Both Jared and I move through the busy streets, surveying,
straining for a glimpse of Tikvah. I finally give up and just keep
my eyes on the men, looking for Semjaza. Even in the city of
giants, he would stand out. He is a handsome man with a look of
polished perfection. The giants here have ordinary features,
though not unpleasant. In fact, one man passes by me who puts
me in mind of Naamah.
Naamah! That is it!
I squeeze Jared's hand and he looks down at me.
These are the children! I say.
The children?
I nod as I look all around at the mix of people.
These are the children of Semjaza and his brothers. Their
mothers are daughters of Cain.
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Jared nods slowly.
It makes sense.
They have moved out beyond the city of Cain, I say.
I do not think it will help us find Tikvah, though, says Jared.
I know what he means. These are a hybrid people and though
Semjaza is a son of the stars and Tikvah a daughter of Adam, I
doubt he would bring her to this city of mixed people who
practise tolerance for the sake of commerce. I fear my daughter
might now be in someplace not as obvious as this bustling town.
We find an inn. This time, there are two to choose from and
we select the one that is not favoured by the traders. It is
operated by a large woman who has four children. There does
not seem to be a husband around, but the woman seems able to
handle everything herself. Her courtyard does not contain pack
animals and she informs us that the price of our room includes a
meal in the morning, should we choose to join her and her
children.
The room is clean and the bed has a sturdy cotton mattress
filled with straw. She tells us with pride that the straw is changed
regularly.
Well, this is an improvement, I say, sitting down on the
mattress.
It is also twice the cost, says Jared. We have brought semi-
precious stones to trade along the way. In order to finance this
journey, we cleared out our garden and emptied our house of all
its furniture to give to the traders for stones. Even Rasujal
contributed by selling one of his lizards.
I lie down and try to get twice the value for our money.
I am going to go look around some more, says Jared.
I lift my head up enough to nod.
There is no concern about leaving me alone in this inn. The
large woman inspires a sense of safety.
I will bring back some food, Jared adds, as he is going out.
Thank you, Jared, I say. The door shuts. Food hardly
interests me, although, the long journey certainly makes the body
hungry.
I roll over and try to get comfortable on my side. Then I roll
over and try the other side. It is not the mattress. It is me.
For Jared, this problem will be solved when we find Tikvah. I
do not have the same feeling that this is merely the objective to
188
be accomplished. She may not want to return with us. Tikvah is
going to be a sorrow I carry with me for the rest of my life and I
am weary just thinking about it.
I wonder how Hawwa can carry the load of the whole world
being her children.

I am asleep when Jared returns and can barely get up when he
offers me some roasted vegetables wrapped in a large grape leaf.
Mistaking my lethargy for exhaustion, he encourages me to go
back to sleep. The vegetables get put on the bedside table. But I
ask him if he found anything when he was out.
No, he says, sitting down beside me on the bed to ease off
his sandals. He offers me the vegetables again before beginning
to eat them himself.
I wish now that I had stopped that man who looked like
Naamah. If indeed he was her son, he might have an idea where
his father is now.
This seems like a safe place. I lay back down.
No, says Jared. It is not.
What do you mean? I ask, rolling over to look at him.
It is vile, he says.
In what way? I ask, now sitting up.
It has all the evil a man can imagine but it is controlled by
money.
They have slaves, he explains. You can buy one in a tavern.
You can have a woman for one night.
My eyes widen.
In one of the other taverns there is a large courtyard in the
centre, Jared continues. In it, four men fight. To the death,
Baraka.
I feel sick.
People bet on who will survive the contest. They use coins
and stones and there is a man who takes the bets. If you choose
the right man, you get double your wager back.
Now I am wide-awake. This is the world my daughter has
unknowingly entered into. Is it a world Semjaza will protect her
from or is his heart just as violent?
Even more disconcerting, I now feel as if we have left the
presence of Yah. He seemed distant to me at our settlement
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189
when he would walk with Enoch rather than me. But now I
realize how close he was to all of us. Out here, among the
children of Dalath, Jared and I are alone.

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191
Chapter Twenty One
never thought I would say this, says Jared, the next
morning, as we set out. But I wish I had one of Rasujal's
beasts with us.
I agree.
We had a pleasant breakfast in the courtyard with the large
lady and her children. The tea was watery and the bread was
bland, but I consumed it with the sense that this little home is an
oasis in a city of violence.
Now we are walking through the streets. The lady at the inn
told us there is another gate on the opposite side of town, one
called the Gate of Cain. She does not have to give the reason for
its name. My guess is that the gate is close to the spot where I
emerged from the forest that day and saw Roeh and his sheep.
Early in the morning, the town does not seem threatening.
Debauchery has left it weak. I see the occasional man sprawled in
a doorway. Liquid from broken pots have drained out in trickles
across the walkway. Only the merchants look alert as they begin
to open their shops and sweep away any dregs human or
otherwise who have ended up in front of their premises.
As we emerge through the Gate of Cain, I realize Roeh's field
I
192
is gone. The city has extended to cover it and we are now past it.
Even the forest is more cleared out and instead of a narrow dirt
path, it is now a stone walkway.
But the forest, rather than being serene, is menacing.
We hear human voices as we travel, just the two of us. People
are now living deep into the forest. My mind wanders over all the
possibilities. Outlaws, perhaps. Waiting to rob travellers?
My husband, though strong and brave, would not be equally
matched for a gang determined to rob us. In this country, strong
and brave is not enough.
But Jared is good.
It is his goodness that I depend on now, to see us safely
through this stretch. Where Behemoth was my companion on the
journey here, a sense that we are of significance to Yah comforts
me on this venture.
Jared travels at a brisk pace and I try to keep up. I do not think
he wants to spend a night in these woods and I do not tell him
that it is impossible to avoid it.
As it turns out, I am wrong.
The woods end far sooner than I expect. The sons of Cain
have spread out well beyond the city of Cain.
A walled settlement appears in a clearing. With fields of barley
and grain all around it, it is small, but active. The gates are
unlocked but in the opening stand men large men. We stay
close to the edge of the forest but are still noted by the men.
Although they are laughing and talking among themselves, they
would be capable of engaging in combat if necessary. It is their
demeanour. And the tall spears held lightly in their hands.
In the time it takes us to pass the settlement, I see a man with
a cart of grain pass through the gates. He is of little interest to
the men.
We no longer have to travel by forest, unless we want to.
There is a continual chain of cultivated fields followed by walled
settlements.
By evening, we have a decision to make a night in the forest
or a night in a settlement.
Jared chooses something in between. A night at the edge of
the forest. We have passed a settlement and are out of sight of
the guards.
We share what little food we have left as we lean against a
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large willow tree.
Is it a mistake not to check each settlement? asks Jared.
I shake my head. I am almost too weary to move. Even the
hard tree feels good after the long walk.
If Semjaza moves among the sons of Cain, he will not
choose a small settlement.
I do not think Jared appreciates my confidence, the sense that
I can understand Semjaza. But it is the truth, nonetheless. He has
not talked to Semjaza. He has not experienced the majesty of
Semjaza, the feeling one has that with him all things are possible,
and even more importantly, that Semjaza will not settle for
anything less than spreading his wings at the top of the greatest
mountain. And the only mountain worth having among the sons
of Cain is the city of Enoch. Cain himself would be but a tame
bird to Semjaza.
Now Semjaza will show everyone that, not only can he have a
daughter of Cain, but he can have a daughter of Seth too. And
perhaps there will be more, when Tikvah loses her appeal. As
daughter of a second wife, Naamah will bear it better than my
Tikvah will.
Our first clue that I am right comes the next morning.
Coming our way is a whole crowd of men, traders, and ones
who Jared and I have traded with.
They recognize us. They are far friendlier than if we had just
waved them down at the river. For we are all sojourners in a
strange land and there is genuine pleasure in their smiles of
recognition.
Jared, is it not? says one of them. And the lovely, Baraka.
You are far from home!
We nod.
My quiet husband does not give away the reason for our
travels.
So I turn my attention to the number of ox-carts they are
leading, all empty.
Business is well? I say.
They nod enthusiastically.
We delivered supplies for the great wedding.
My spine goes cold.
The great wedding at Enoch? It is Jared who says it.
There is nodding all around.
194
What an affair it will be! one the traders calls out. The
groom wants the delicacies of the world at his table. His bride
will wear a dress of silk made by a million worms. With pearls
from the sea and diamonds from the ground.
The man asks for things that are nearly impossible! A
bloodred diamond for the bride's finger. A symbol of true love,
he says.
Flowers from along every river!
Banners made of every colour!
The traders shake their head in good-natured revelry. This is
splendid business for them, even if they are hard requests to
meet.
When does the wedding take place? I ask weakly.
In two days, is the reply.
Our group is starting to break up. Perhaps there are more
things the traders have to bring back in the short time.
But Jared and I are standing as still as stone pillars.
Walk carefully! one of the traders calls back. You move
among gods now!
It is I who takes the first step. My husband seems to have lost
his ability to move.
We have two days to get her back, I say briskly.
Jared just stands there.
Finally he speaks.
We will only be able to bring her back with us if she wants
to, he says.
I do not speak, but only stand waiting for him to form his
thoughts. Because, of course, he is right.
She is now the . . . Jared searches for a word. Queen of
heaven! Pearls! Diamonds! Silk! And what will we bring her back
to?
At last, he and I are of like mind on this issue.
I think of our quiet settlement, spacious but with its dirt paths
and forests with common mushrooms. Oh, but our forests are
not common! Yah walks in them! But what is that to Tikvah who
now stands as a goddess by her god? How will we tell her that
Semjaza will only treat her as such as long as it pleases him to do
so?
And in one way, it is to her disadvantage that she has only
seen a marriage like Jareds and mine. Jared is not harsh with his
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195
wife. Tikvah is hardly aware that the hearts of men can grow cold
and cruel.
But even if she has, Semjaza's honeyed words will have
assured her that he is not as other men. True. But perhaps in
ways none of us can understand.
We must speak with her, I say.
Jared shakes his head.
The talk with the traders seems to have taken all the life and
hope out of him.
We must do only one thing, determine if she is happy. If she
is not, we will die attempting to save her. If she is, we will return
home before being forced to watch the whole wretched
marriage.
I nod.
Knowing Semjaza, he would probably invite us to sit at the
head table. The two dowdy children of Seth, out of their
element, as he lavishes splendour on their daughter. We will not
submit to his wishes, so Jared is right. We must determine
Tikvah's state of mind without encountering Semjaza.
Though both of us feel tired, we start walking faster. Time is
short.
My first sight of Enoch makes me gasp.
It has grown beyond recognition. Buildings now seem to
stretch to the clouds. They are whiter and brighter than I
remember.
My first thought is, how could walls protect a city with
buildings so high? But one quickly realizes that only a fool would
attack Enoch. For it is peopled by giants. And the giants are
armed. They carry leather shields and spears. Some of them even
have copper helmets, glistening in the sun. Tubal-Cain has
obviously expanded his expertise.
I do not dare to talk to a giant but I feel safe stopping a
farmer's wife about my age. She too is heading for the city with a
horse-drawn cart full of produce. It is not market day. But
perhaps everyday is market day now in Enoch.
We have come for the wedding, I say to her, trying to sound
light. Do you bring supplies for it?
Oh no! she says laughing. Our master Semjaza . . .
I hear Jared gasp.
. . . would never buy from us! He has his own farms. I bring
196
only to sell to all the visitors.
She is a lovely bride, I say.
The farmer's wife nods pleasantly but her attention is on her
horse. The stone pathway, though wider now, is crowded and she
must keep her horse close.
But what an unusual name, I continue. Tikvah? It is the
first time I have uttered my daughter's name among the children
of Cain. I am almost hoping that the woman will say that
Semjaza is not marrying someone named Tikvah. But, alas, the
woman nods.
Yes, she agrees. I am told she is a daughter of Seth.
She is beautiful? I say.
I do not know, says the farmer's wife. I have never seen
her.
Has anyone seen her? I ask.
I do not think so, said the farmer's wife. She does not just
roam the marketplace. There is another merry laugh.
And then we are all at the city gates, where there is much
jostling as people and carts full of produce go in and people and
carts that have been emptied go out. Giants guard but do very
little to interfere. Normally, this would be a situation for irritation
with so many people passing through this one narrow way, but
there is a feeling of festivity and most people are good-natured
about having to wait their turn to enter or exit the city.
As we get closer to entering, we see that some of the giants
are young, suggesting they are not the children of the brother's
of Semjaza and the daughters of Cain, but of the giants
themselves.
But it is clearly an odd dynasty.
They do not have the lovely features of the children of Cain,
dark and distinct. Some of them look mutilated, deformed
almost, as if clay and stardust have mixed together in a way never
intended. Not all are ugly, but none are as beautiful as their
grandparents.
But the city itself is exquisite.
Once inside, I do not recognize anything.
It is all rebuilt, or entirely new.
To add to its splendour, it has a festive feeling. Strings of flags,
garlands of flowers, circle entire buildings.
Poles have been erected from which hang colourful silk
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banners.
Workmen are out replacing the plain glass of the streetlights
with coloured glass.
All for my daughter's wedding.
There is one place I have to see again and that is Tubal-Cain's
shop. It is almost beyond hope that it would be in the same
location, by the central marketplace. Sure enough, when we
follow the crowds, and end up in the city centre, though I look all
around, I cannot see my brother's shop.
But surely Tubal-Cain is still a well-known man.
Jared beside me is silent, taking it all in. Among the sons of
Seth, we have our pyramids. But we do not have cities like this.
I ask a passerby where we can find the shop of Tubal-Cain,
the metalworker. He shrugs and keeps walking. Maybe he is only
a visitor himself.
I ask a passing shepherd. They always knew where Tubal-
Cain's shop was. Gruffly, he nods and points to a huge white
building. I thought it was an apartment building. Thanking him, I
grab Jared's hand and we move through the crowds.
Sure enough, Tubal-Cain, Metalcrafts is written above the
store's entranceway. There are still the glass doors, but it is no
longer the cosy store Namaah and I once worked in. The window
displays are now filled with swords, spears and helmets. Going
inside, I see that the store is several stories high. The first level
has jewellery in cases as well as the pots and copper platters that
every household needs. There is a whole row of iron stoves along
one wall.
I do not recognize the young woman and man behind the
counter. We go up to the second level. It is almost entirely taken
up with men admiring the weapons on display. There are more
employees here four young men are enthusiastically leading
customers around and showing them all the various swords and
knives in glass cases. Helmets are all lined up on shelves. Giants
are here too, looking around. Jared takes a quick glance at one of
the cases. I look long enough to see that the quality of Tubal-
Cain's work is still excellent.
The third floor is quieter. It is a showcase for Tubal-Cain's
craftsmanship. Exquisite iron railings, small engraved pots, a set
of table and chairs, mirror frames that look as if they are made
with metal thread the work is so delicate, a bed frame of elegant
198
iron. There is a detailed tree, the height of a giant, in one corner.
I go over to examine it. Golden fruit hangs from it. Is it possible
Tubal-Cain heard the story of how Hawwa chose the fruit from
the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil? Only one
employee is up here, a young man, watching us carefully.
Can I help you? he asks Jared.
We have come for the wedding. But I have heard of the
craftsmanship of Tubal-Cain.
The young man nods.
My grandfather's work is known among all the children of
Adam.
This is true, says Jared.
And how is your grandfather's health? I ask, cautiously.
He is well, says the young man. He is always busy.
I nod. I dare not ask any more questions, but oh! How I
would love to see my brother again! But would he blame me for
what has happened to Naamah? First, I abandon Semjaza, leaving
Naamah to marry him. Now, my daughter marries him.
It occurs to me that this is not a time of rejoicing for the
house of Lamech. But looking around one final time at Tubal-
Cain's fine work, it is obvious that he is successful with or
without the help of his illustrious brother-in-law.
Jared seems to understand that it is sad for me to be among
the children of my family in Cain and he takes my hand as we go
back down to ground level. The marketplace has tripled in size
since the days of my youth. And today, it is packed.
Will we even be able to find a place to stay for the night? I
say to Jared.
He shakes his head.
I imagine every room is taken.
Perhaps among the tent-dwellers . . . I begin to say but am
interrupted by a man, his head lowered, who has just bumped
into me. There is a foul odour to him and I recoil.
At first I think it is a careless accident but then I notice the
man has a desperate look in his eyes, hunted. His features are
gaunt, but there is something familiar about him.
I thought it was you! he says in a low voice. Havilah! What
are you doing here?
It is his voice that I recognize.
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Qayin! I say.
He looks around, almost frantically. But no one is paying
attention.
Havilah! he says. You must help me!
But why, cousin? I gently take his arm. He is not the man
who Naamah once loved. I have never seen death before, but
Qayin is what I imagine death to look like fearful and at the
same time, hungry.
Jared, watching this all with concern, relaxes when I call
Qayin, cousin.
You must get me out of here! says Qayin. He almost
collapses in my arms. Jared moves in quickly to support him.
Jared and I look at one another.
He was once family, I say.
Then we will help him, says my husband.
Together, we move through the crowds, each of us holding
onto Qayin who seems to have lost all strength. At one point,
Jared pauses to replenish our supplies. I am left holding Quayin,
who, in addition to everything else, has lost weight.
We must get out of here, he murmurs.
Soon, I say soothingly. We need food. You need food.
Now loaded with bread and bean dip and honey and dates, we
make our way through the stone streets to the gate we entered
through.
At the sight of the guards, Quayin mutters, Yah have mercy!
If he fears being noticed, it is unlikely. Wine is now being
distributed in the streets and even the guards are hurrying
forward to grab a cup.
The party has started early, says Jared.
I nod, stepping aside slightly to let an eager young man hurry
over to the huge casks being brought by carts and erected on the
stone benches along the walkways. Now that the drinking has
begun, I am glad to be leaving the city.
But oh my Tikvah!
I look back with longing.
Semjaza probably has her in one of the buildings that touch
the sky. Who knows how many giants guard the way?
Once outside the city, Jared hands me all the provisions and
just picks up Qayin in his arms like a child. Qayin has nearly
fainted anyhow. Although people glance at us, the news that wine
200
is freely available in the city offers an explanation for the curious.
The man has had too much too drink. Besides, the tent-dwellers
are too busy making their way into the city for some wine to care
much about anything else.
I do not want to encounter my half-brother Jabal or any of his
children who might remember me as Aunt Havilah. So we stop at
a tent with people who, though they are children of Cain, are
unfamiliar to me. They are in the process of packing up
provisions to take into the city with them. Apparently, the
wedding festivities are going to last a week long. The news that
they have started already makes them eager to hurry to Enoch.
They are happy to allow us the use of their tent, for a fee.
While Jared works that out, I take Qayin inside the tent and
stretch him out on a fraying cushion. The tent has been emptied
of all valuables and all that is left are the items of no importance.
Havilah, he whispers. I need water.
I nod. The tent sits alongside a small creek. Taking a clay pot,
I hurry outside and fill it up. Qayin sits up to drink it, but the
effort exhausts him and he falls back.
Oh Qayin, I say looking at the once proud man. What has
brought you to this?
It is that wretched Semjaza! He speaks quietly, but with
emotion. The man is not human. And humans are bad enough.
You should know, you left him.
I left him because I discovered I was a daughter of Seth, I
say.
Qayin shrugs, as if he barely cares anything about those days.
Of course, I know that Semjaza bought Qayin as a slave for
Naamah, but I can hardly imagine my gentle sister bringing him
to this point.
With all the planning for the wedding, I managed to escape,
Qayin says. But I had no place to go. I have been hiding in the
sewers of Enoch. He groans. With all the people coming and
going, I thought it would be safe to come up and see if I could
get out somehow. And get something to eat. Qayin moans. I
reach for our provisions and hand him some bread. There is a
point of hunger where a man will gobble something down. But
Qayin is almost too weak to take the bread. So I break off small
pieces and dip it in the bean sauce for him, feeding him like a
child.
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But he is eager to tell me something despite his frail state.
When I saw you, it was like seeing Yah himself. I have never
called out to Yah before, but I called out to him in the sewer. I
felt silly, but I asked him to help me get away from this wretched
city.
He has eaten only a few mouthfuls and he falls back now,
wanting to sleep.
But there is something I have to know first.
Qayin, I say, my hand on his arm to keep him awake. I
must get to Tikvah.
Qayin looks at me blankly.
Tikvah, I repeat. The girl Semjaza is to marry.
Oh her, he says with indifference.
I must get to her, I say.
Why? murmurs Qayin, almost asleep now.
How do I get to her? I ask.
You cannot, he mumbles. Why would you want to?
Because she is my daughter.
His eyes open for a moment.
Then Yah help her.
He shudders and then is asleep.

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Chapter Twenty Two
repeat the conversation to Jared while Qayin sleeps.
Jared looks grim as he glances down at the narrow form
of Qayin, now sleeping so soundly one would almost think
he was dead.
We will talk to him when he has had some time to recover. If
he found a way out, then that will be our way in.
I nod.
But now we should rest, says Jared, taking one of the
cushions. I agree, stretching out on another. The encampment is
quiet but there is noise in the distance from Enoch. Now is the
time to rest. It is impossible to imagine what the next few days
might be like.

We wake up before Qayin.
It is dark now, but the moon is almost full. Standing in the
doorway of the tent, I realize that Semjaza plans to marry my
daughter under the light of a full moon. The revelry continues in
the city.
I am joined by Jared.
We should wake that man and find out how he escaped, says
I
204
Jared. We have so little time!
As I look up at the moon, I realize something.
No, I say. Maybe we need to wait a little longer.
What do you mean?
I turn to him.
Semjaza will have mesmerized her with his knowledge of the
stars. She longs for him in a way we could never fulfil. Jared may
not like to hear this, but it is better to speak the truth.
Tomorrow, she will be the most important woman in this
city . . .
Jared nods slowly.
And if we bring her back to our dusty little settlement . . . I
continue.
He nods again.
If we take her away before the wedding, she will always hate
us, I say.
We must give her some time . . . says Jared.
. . . to realize what she has gotten herself into, I finish for
him.
But how long? groans Jared, returning inside the tent and
sinking down on one of the cushions. Qayin stirs but he does not
wake-up.
However long it takes, I whisper.
Jared and I are both quiet. I am imagining us as tent-dwellers,
using our remaining stones to purchase a tent and some livestock.
Perhaps never returning to Enoch and Edna and Methuselah.
I settle down on a cushion. The feeling of urgency has
changed to one of bracing myself for a long wait. Whatever
action is required, I am encouraged by Qayin calling out to
Yah . . . and Yah hearing him. Is Yah close to us, even here? I
hope with all my heart that he is.
I do not know how long we just sit, in semi-darkness, until
Qayin finally wakes. When he does, he is ravenous and eats a full
meal. I have to return to the creek twice with the clay pot to
satisfy his thirst. Then I have to return four times with enough
water for him to bathe and wash his clothes in.
Then he sits back, wrapped in a blanket, satisfied and
comfortable, and I see a glimmer of the man who used to scorn
Naamah's love. But Jared is a man of strength and Qayin's
shrewdness is not equal to my husband's determination. We have
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delivered him from Enoch, we have sheltered and fed him. Now
he will talk.
Now that Qayin is a free man, he settles back to his story with
good-natured condescension. We are in need and he knows it.
Naamah is a silly little fool, he begins. She expected that
beast to love her like a man. He was a monster to her.
Did he hit her? I ask, thinking of what Chaya has told me.
Qayin snorted.
He did not have to, he says. I would have, he adds. Jared
looks at him with disgust. Qayin doesn't notice. He tore the soul
right out of her, he says.
What do you mean? asks Jared.
Qayin looks thoughtful. It is hard to explain. A woman can
always control a man if she is determined enough. Most are not
determined enough, of course, and so we dominate them. This
coming from a man who has only recently been liberated from
slavery. Naamah was born to be dominated. It was pitiful to
watch her long for the beast. Her took her whenever it pleased
him with no regard for who was watching. Both Jareds eyes and
mine widen. He kept her close enough that she longed for him
but not so close that she ever belonged to him. That's what she
wanted, to belong to him. Pitiful. Qayin shook his head.
Did he ever let her visit with her family? I ask.
I was her only family, says Qayin. I saw everything that
went on between those two.
How could you observe everything? I ask.
Qayin's jaw sets.
I was nothing more than a dog to the man, he says.
I do not want to inquire further into the nature of his slavery.
Qayin says Naamah was pitiful. He has not had a chance to see
his own state.
Sometimes, Tubal-Cain would come and insist on seeing
her, continues Qayin. Semjaza would order her to dress and
wipe the tears from her eyes. Then she would sit beside him,
quiet, while Tubal-Cain and Semjaza would talk about expanding
the mines. The criminals work the mines now. None of us are
freemen anymore. If you are accused of a crime, you go to the
mines. Murder. Stealing an apple in the marketplace. It does not
matter. It is all the same.
Why did Semjaza decide to marry again? I ask, not
206
particularly interested in the mines.
Naamah is an old woman now, says Qayin shrugging. She
spends her days crying. Her children pretend not to know her.
Semjaza told her he would find a woman with some spirit. He
said he wanted someone who would not weep so easily.
I am chilled and more so by his next words.
He is a cruel beast, says Qayin. He likes a challenge and he
does not want a woman who breaks as easily as Naamah. Then
he glances at me. Pardon, Havilah. I had forgotten that you said
the girl was your daughter.
Speak frankly, man, said Jared. What exactly did you see
while you were the man's slave?
Qayin glances at me.
Jared understands.
We will walk, he says. If Qayin expects to use weakness as
an excuse not to talk man-to-man with Jared, he does not have a
chance. Jared is pulling him up and holding him by the arm,
practically moving him along the ground. They leave me alone in
the darkness.
Oh Yah! I whisper. I am glad not to know the details. I only
know that my daughter thinks she loves Semjaza. If we must
bring her back broken in body and spirit, so be it. If only
someone could help Naamah too and let her weary soul rest.
I wish I were back in our own forest, yet, even there, Semjaza
could reach us. But if Semjaza could move among our forest,
perhaps Yah can move among the children of Cain.
Weary, I drift off. When I wake again, it is morning. Jared is
sitting upright, his face grim and pale. Qayin is not in sight.
What is it? I ask moving toward him.
For the longest time, he is just quiet.
I have heard things a man should never hear, he says finally.
I have heard about evils that never crossed my mind. Oh
Baraka! He turns to me. It is not hard for me to imagine some
things, but what goes on in there . . . He nods toward Enoch. I
never could have supposed.
I lean my head on his shoulder and he puts his arm around
me.
Outside the tent, there is life in the encampment. Some people
have returned to their tents to recover from the night's festivities.
The people whose tent we are in have obviously chosen to stay in
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the city.
Jared and I sit in silence.
I know the way in, he says after a while. It is through the
sewer.
I nod. I figured as much. Though I do not care for the
thought of actually trying it.
Where is Qayin? I ask.
He left, said Jared. I could not keep him. He told me
everything and then he said he was going to go as far away from
this place as he could. I gave him some food and money.
That was nice of you, I murmur. Thankfully, my mind is not
filled with the knowledge that Jared now has to bear. My
daughter is getting married today! I look down. My clothing is
worn. I look like any farmer's wife. I suppose we will stand in the
crowds with everyone else and if her eyes fall on us, she may not
even recognize us.
Tonight we will go into Enoch, says Jared, before stretching
out on a cushion to sleep.
But I am wide-awake. I eat what's left of the bread and walk
down to the creek for some water, both to wash up and to drink.
Some of the tent-dwellers are out and notice that I am a new
face.
Here for the wedding? one woman asks.
I nod and try to smile pleasantly.
Things will get out of hand, predicts another woman. I am
staying here with my children.
Your husband will not miss out on the revelry, says the first
woman.
What does it matter to me? the woman shrugs. Let him
have his fun.
I am staying here too, says another woman. I do not trust
the giants when they have had too much to drink.
There is much agreement. The city will not be safe tonight.
Are you curious about the bride? I ask.
A couple of women shrug.
We have not seen her. We will never see her again.
I decide to be bold and gather as much information as I can.
I remember the days when Father Cain sat in the city gates,
I say.
One woman laughs.
208
Those days are long gone. He will be lucky if he is invited to
the feast tonight.
You are from an outer settlement? a woman asks me.
I nod. Let her think I still live among the children of Cain. She
does not need to know how far I have come.
Life is better there, I think, says one of the women.
Life is hard everywhere, I say.
Much nodding and agreement. And then the women must
return to their tents with their water and all the responsibilities
that await them. I have nothing to do except wait for Jared to
wake up. I wonder how long I could stand to live here, just
outside the city of Enoch, waiting for my daughter to realize
what she has married.
I am not afraid of hard work. I do not think myself better
than these people, because I was once a child of Cain, or so I
thought. But I miss my own home and the company of Enoch
and Edna. And at home, there is always something for me to do.
I have never been in this situation where I have nothing to do
and am restless.
I am tempted to walk straight into Enoch and demand an
audience with Semjaza. He would probably shame me by denying
me one. But arriving via the sewers will be even more humiliating
if we are caught. I cannot imagine Tikvah welcoming me with
open arms if I appeared in her home after a journey through the
pipes that carry the waste.
At long last, Jared awakes. We pack up everything that is ours
in case we do not return. Then we follow the few people heading
into Enoch. Most people are already in the city and the walls look
as if they are going to burst there are so many people moving in
the streets. Some have even used ladders to climb to the top of
the walls.
The people who are not drinking wine and carousing, are
moving to the city centre. We follow along, holding hands to
keep from being separated. The marketplace is filled.
All eyes are on the largest and most ornate building. It is made
of stone and it takes up one whole side of the marketplace. Even
in the twilight, it is a gleaming white. Although it seems to reach
up to the sky, the entire third floor has a balcony that juts out
over the marketplace.
All along the balcony's edge are lights and flowers. That's what
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209
everyone's eyes are on.
We wait in the crowds as darkness falls. There is jostling and I
hope that Jared has a good grip on our valuables because it is an
ideal situation for thievery.
Then, when the sky is dark and the moon is bright, we see
movement. It is not Semjaza who comes out first, but some of
his brothers.
The crowds begin to cheer. The giants are followed by familiar
faces. I recognize Tubal-Cain, older and stouter. Then Lamech
with Zillah beside him, but not Adah. I guess that's one small
dignity Naamah retains. She does not have to include her father's
first wife. But it is humiliating enough that the family of Lamech
must attend this event. Then it is Naamah herself. A few cheers
go up for her. From a distance, she is still lovely and tonight she
is wearing a shimmering red dress. And around her neck is the
necklace, the one with the moonstones, crafted so carefully by
Tubal-Cain all those years ago.
The final person to come out is Semjaza. Now the crowds
roar.
They are calling out their adulation. There is genuine
adoration among these people amassed here in the marketplace. I
have no doubt that Semjaza has won them over with his
eloquence. The crowds love him.
But where is Tikvah?
A shout from one of the streets that run off the marketplace
answers my question.
It is a procession.
Giants are shoving bystanders to the side, hardly possible in
the dense crowds, to make room for an enormous platform that
carries a golden chair, and on it, my daughter Tikvah. The
platform is high enough that everyone can see her. She looks
solemn, and her white dress, trimmed in gold and pearls
glimmering in the moonlight, makes her look like a newly born
star. Like everyone in the streets, the sight mesmerizes me. The
platform is being pulled by four white horses. I doubt I will ever
see anything like this again.
I glance up at Semjaza.
His lips are twisted in a smile. This is obviously what he
envisioned. He is creating the sense that Tikvah is worthy of him,
although how long that illusion will last, I do not know.
210
I look up at Jared. But there is no pride on his face, only pain.
He knows more than I do about what awaits our daughter and
with much knowledge comes much sorrow.
Then the platform arrives in the marketplace and the crowds
must part to let it by. It would not surprise me if people die
tonight under the feet of the giants who now use whips to make
way for the horses. The platform is so high it is level with the
balcony.
When Tikvah stands, Semjaza himself moves forward to lift
his bride over to his side. The crowds love it and shout their
approval.
It should be Cain who marries them. When I lived here, Cain
married all his children, or if for some reason, he could not, then
Enoch did. But today, I see neither man. Semjaza evidently does
not believe there is anyone higher than him in the city.
Holding Tikvah's hand high, he turns to the crowds.
The crowds go quiet.
We come before you tonight, he calls out, his voice carrying
over the heads of the people. And ask that you share our joy.
The crowds roar. It is almost deafening.
I notice that Naamah does not look joyful.
When the crowds quiet down, Semjaza continues to speak.
In Enoch, we are all equal. We are all as gods, knowing good
from evil. We have eaten of the fruit of the tree and the tree has
made us wise. I recognize the words of the manuscript that my
father carried, although Semjaza has arranged them in his own
way. I wonder if everyone in the crowd is aware of the allusion.
They are hushed, taking in every word.
We are called to fill the earth and to subdue it, to have
dominion over the birds of the heavens, over every living thing
that moves on earth.
Though it is Yah who has given us these words, Yah is not
mentioned.
We are formed not as dust, but as stardust, Semjaza calls out
to the still crowd. Now that is not true. The manuscript says we
are dust and God breathed the breath of life into Father Adam
and he became a living creature. Hawwa was created from a rib
from his side.
We are not cursed creatures, says Semjaza. But creators of
our own destiny!
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I know where he's getting that. Yah cursed his creation after
Father Adam and Hawwa chose to eat the fruit of the Tree of
the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Indeed, we are cursed
creatures, and how much more as we stand here tonight?
We are called to be fruitful and to multiply, continues
Semjaza. And so I come before you today with Tikvah.
The crowds cheer. Jared's hand tightens around mine.
I declare to you my intent to take her as a wife. And in turn,
she declares to take me as her only husband.
Jared and I look at one another. We have both noticed the
careful distinction. Tikvah is to have no other men. Semjaza is
free to have as many wives as he wants.
Tikvah nods, looking up at Semjaza with adoration. I can tell
my girl is overwhelmed by all of this and is holding onto Semjaza
for her strength.
That seems to be the ceremony.
Then one of Semjaza's brothers moves forward to make a
small speech welcoming Tikvah to the family. Then it is Tubal-
Cain's turn to come forward, welcoming Tikvah to Enoch. I am
proud of my brother. He is dignified regardless of what this
means for his family. I notice that Lamech has lost most of his
colour and is much thinner than I remember. The loss of prestige
is affecting him heavily, no doubt.
The crowd is respectfully quiet, but getting restless. On the
balcony, Semjaza speaks one more time.
It is my desire that you all share in the festivities, he calls
out. Someone has handed him a glass of wine and he raises his
voice, I drink to your health, I drink to your wealth, and I drink
to . . . life!
He downs the glass in one gulp and tosses it off the balcony.
The crowds roar back. They love him tonight. They love the
beautiful woman beside him, but they will never see her again.
Then more wine is coming out from what must be Semjaza's
home. This time, it is accompanied by food. The crowds move
forward. Jared drags me in the opposite direction. On the
balcony, the wedding party is moving inside. I have only a
glimpse of Tikvah's dress as she disappears through the
shimmering glass doors.
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Chapter Twenty Three
he city of Enoch is the last place I want to be. It is
Semjaza's city now. I think, perhaps, that we should try to
get word to Tikvah that we are here outside of the city
and that if she needs us, we will be here for as long as it is
necessary.
But Jared says we will go into the city and that is where we will
stay until it is clear what we should do.
I am concerned that we will be recognized by someone who
once knew me and Semjaza will be told that we are here.
At least Jared's plan keeps us from having to purchase a tent
and make a home among the tent-dwellers. They have all
returned home and we would not have been able to stay another
night in their tent.
But I am concerned about the cost. Living in the city will leave
us destitute in a short time compared to the self-sustaining life of
the tent-dwellers. I am almost afraid that Jared will suggest that
we approach Tubal-Cain and ask for accommodation. Because I
fear that Naamah's misery is entirely my fault. Had I stayed, her
future would have been very different indeed. And Tikvah's
marriage to Semjaza only increases my feeling of guilt.
T
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But Jared surprises me. The city is much quieter today. He
takes us right back to the centre, the marketplace and the home
of Semjaza. We pass by Tubal-Cain's shop but there is no sign of
him, though people are coming and going from the building. A
small sign on a door of one of the other buildings says, Room
to rent. Inquire within.
Jared nods with satisfaction.
How did you know? I ask.
I had a dream, Jared explains, pushing the door open. I am
still standing in the street. A dream? I would like to know more.
But my husband is already in the shop, a pottery store, inquiring
about the room. The proprietor tells us it used to belong to his
son, but his son has left for one of the settlements to set up his
own shop. He wasn't expecting to rent the room to two people.
We only need it for a few days, says Jared.
Why is he so confident? I look up at him, but his eyes are on
the proprietor who is nodding slowly.
OK, he says slowly. Might as well make some money.
Then Jared is paying him and we are being led up a tiny
staircase. These new buildings are not as spacious inside as the
old ones that used to line the market. The giants must have their
own places to live.
I barely notice the narrow room with its single bed, I am so
eager to talk to Jared. As soon as the proprietor closes the door
behind him, I am opening my mouth. But Jared speaks first.
I prayed to Yah to bring this to a conclusion, says Jared.
Our place is back at our settlement. Not here. Tikvah will never
find happiness here.
But Jared . . . I feel cold and scared.
Jared holds up his hand.
Hold your peace, Baraka. I have heard things I wish I never
knew. This must end and it must end soon. I have never asked
Yah for anything.
The price might be higher than we are willing to pay . . . I
sit on the hard bed and put my face in my hands.
The price Tikvah is paying is higher than she realized, Jared
says, going over to the small window and opening the wooden
shutters. It looks down into the marketplace and right across at
the balcony where our daughter was married.
Jared returns to sit with me on the bed. We both just stare at
215
the balcony. My daughter entered that building a queen. What has
she become now?
Something makes me certain that Jared will have his prayer
answered. But Yah is a holy God, a righteous God, and I cannot
think that this will end well.

Darkness comes to the small room. Outside, the marketplace
gets quiet. We finish the last of our provisions, purchased the day
we encountered Qayin.
Across the marketplace, in Semjaza's structure, lights start to
come on. Some rooms only have diaphanous curtains and I gasp
when I see the figure of a woman pass by one of them. But the
longer we watch, we become aware that this building is home for
Semjaza's brothers and their wives and children too. Many of the
shadowy figures are giants.
I do not see anyone who might be my Tikvah.
With Jared quiet, as always, my mind wanders over the past.
Like a fool, I think of all the wonderful little moments I shared
with my daughter - the times we baked apple pastries together, or
picked berries together, or just the way she used to follow me
around when I did all my chores on wobbly legs at first and
then more certain.
I am soon silently weeping and there is nothing for me to do
but stretch out on the bed and beg Yah to deliver my daughter
from evil. Let it cost me everything, let it cost her nothing, but
deliver her from evil.

When I awake, Jared is asleep beside me. I have no idea at
what point in the night he gave up his vigil. He looks pale beside
me, weary and worn, not like the master of a settlement and
guardian of a star map.
Sitting up, the first thing I do is look over at Semjaza's. The
morning sun shines on its white stones, but there is no life in the
windows. From down below, I hear the marketplace stirring and
the early risers out and about.
I take a few coins from Jared's pouch and make my way down
the stairs to ground level. A farmer's wife has a blanket covered
with fresh fruit, as well as some baskets for purchase. It has been
a long time since we have had the fresh produce from our own
garden. I take a basket and start to fill it up under the woman's
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watchful eye. I am half-done when there is the sound of a
commotion coming from the direction of Semjaza's house.
The shriek of a woman causes my whole body to stiffen and I
drop the basket. Now the entire marketplace has gone quiet. One
of the curtains on the third floor has been ripped back.
And I see my Tikvah.
Except she isn't my Tikvah anymore.
Her face is contorted in rage and fear. I cannot see it, but
someone is holding her wrist. She twists it away and now there is
desperation on her face. For only a short second, she hesitates,
and then she pushes her slight body through the glass door. In
the silence, as all stare, I hear the sound of shattering glass and I
see my daughter tottering on the edge of the balcony, having
pushed with all her might and lost her balance. Again, there is
only a brief moment as my daughter makes a decision. And then
over the balcony she goes.
I scream.
I am not sure if I scream for Jared or if I scream for Yah.
But Jared is suddenly beside me and we are both moving in
the direction of the still form on the stone ground.
A crowd has gathered around. Jared pushes through and with
no hesitation, has Tikvah in his arms.
I look up. Semjaza is standing on the balcony. I think I see
apprehension on his face, but it is too brief for me to be certain.
And then he shakes his head and a cruel smile replaces the
concern. Before our eyes can meet, he turns and goes back
inside, carefully stepping around broken glass.
I am expecting him to come down and retrieve his bride.
But he does not.
We carry Tikvah back to our small room, everyone parting for
us. There is fear on their faces. Fear of Semjaza?
Tikvah moans slightly.
By the time we have her on the bed, the proprietor is banging
on our door, ordering us out.
Yes, it is definitely fear.
He does not want us here, he tells us. We are trouble. My
daughter, covered in cuts and barely alive, gets no sympathy from
him.
I leave the proprietor to Jared and concentrate entirely on
Tikvah. On my knees, I am holding her hands, afraid to touch
217
her, yet unwilling to not hold her in some way. She moans but her
eyes are closed and she is still. Frighteningly still. I have only seen
death once in my life when Behemoth died. He went cold too
and right now Tikvah's hands are the same temperature as the
chilly river.
Oh my love! Carefully, I place my head on her chest. She is
barely breathing. Behind me, I am aware that the more insistent
the proprietor is that we leave, the more stubborn my husband is
that we will not leave. Finally, Jared hauls the man over to the
window and points that there is absolutely no one coming out
from Semjaza's house. We are entirely alone in this room and no
one cares what is happening.
Slightly soothed, the man says we can have the room for one
more hour and then he will go get some giants to drag us out, if
necessary.
Jared does not even reply to this, turning toward the bed and
joining me on the ground to look at his daughter.
I do not think she is even aware of us.
Gently, Jared strokes her forehead.
This tender gesture almost starts me weeping. My daughter is
dying in front of me. This is death. This is what the knowledge
of good and evil brought us. Oh for Life!
Oh Hawwa! Why did you have to make this choice for all of
us? For one moment, I hate Hawwa, but then I realize, this is part
of the knowledge of good and evil too.
Then Tikvah is still.
I put my head back on her chest, but feel nothing. Jared puts
his hand over her mouth but does not feel the breath of life.
Is she . . . ? I cannot bring myself to say it.
Jared looks at his daughter.
I do not know. But if she is, we will not bury her here. And
if she is not, we cannot stay here. Jared surveys the room but
does not see what he is looking for. He stands.
Do what you can for her, he says to me, before going out
the door.
I have some oil left, a tiny amount. Very gently, I rub it on
some of her wounds. Her dress is of the finest material, but it is
too revealing. I wrap her in my second outfit and stroke her
forehead while I wait for Jared to return. She is cold. I am glad
her eyes are closed. I would not have wanted to see the life go
218
out of them.
Jared returns with provisions and hands them to me.
We will walk until we are home, he says. So these will have
to keep us going.
I nod silently and take the food. It is a large supply of goods
to carry, but Jared is already picking up Tikvah. His load will be
heavier.

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Part Five

220

221
Chapter Twenty Four
e is like his grandfather, I say comfortingly to Edna.
Jared was not a young man when he got married.
Over tea in my kitchen, we are talking about
Methuselah. Though with a house and a clearing of his own, he
seems content not to take a wife and start a settlement.
He talks to his father and his father says the end will come,
says Edna. But neither of them seem to be able to tell me the
nature of this end. But the effect it has on Methuselah is that he
does not want to continue on as everyone does marrying and
fathering children.
Well, I say. It is understandable. The earth gets more
violent every day. I sigh.
Many of the giants are men of renown, protectors of cities in
return for the glory it brings them. But we hear disturbing stories
that settlements are at war with settlements. Thus far, no one has
shown any interest in our settlement. It is by the grace of Yah, I
believe.
Edna nods.
Jared and I are partners in everything, including sorrow, but it
is Edna who is my best friend and my greatest comfort. Tikvah is
H
222
buried in our forest and she and I often go out to sit by the small
marker we erected. Jared never does. It is too painful.
But in his quiet way, he has rebuilt our life, replacing all the
furniture that was sold to pay for our journey to Enoch. In some
ways, it has been easier for me. I have forgiven myself and taken
solace in the presence of Yah, who Enoch still walks with. If he
is here, than everything must be as it should be.
Enoch simply is not concerned, Edna continues. It would
be nice if he would share my desire for grandchildren.
I smile.
That is one pleasure that I have known.
Rasujal and Nava have three children. Nava refused to have
anymore after that, although they are now the grandparents of
three more children. Overall, I sense that Rasujal is a frustrated
man.
Pyramides and Kalah have both married and although Kalah
lives in the settlement of Cainan, we still have Pyramides and his
wife here with us. They have brought seven children into the
settlement and their eldest son and his wife are now expecting
their first child.
We are blessed though, I say. Edna nods. She understands
that I consider the presence of Yah to be of more value than ten
grandchildren living close by.
I push my chair back.
We should take some tea over to Nava, I say.
Nava does not care to have tea in my home with me,
preferring the comfort and luxury of her own house, but I try to
make a point of bringing some tea leaves over to her now and
then.
Edna shakes her head.
I am needed at home to . . .
She searches her mind for some forgotten chore.
I laugh.
Your home is spotless, Edna.
It is because I have no grandchildren to mess it up, she
grumbles as we both stand up.
It is true. I look around my house. Pyramides's three youngest
were here yesterday and the house still has not recovered. It
hardly seems worth it to restore everything if they are just going
to return. Jared calls them violent little men and asks Pyramides
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223
why his children must play with toy daggers. I try to ignore the
war games they play and just think of them as high-spirited.
Nonetheless, Edna is not interested in a visit to Nava, so I set
out alone with my offering of tea leaves. Rasujal's house has
expanded with his lizard business so that now it is the biggest and
tallest in the settlement. It is filled with the luxuries of the four
rivers. I hardly bother to look at Navas treasures. I use wooden
ladles in my soup while Nava has silver ones hanging above her
iron stove. Except that she hardly uses her iron stove. One of her
unmarried daughters does the cooking. It is one of life's ironies
that two attractive people like Rasujal and Nava have produced
three plain-looking children. Their son has married a giant
woman and they live in our settlement. Rasujal is still looking for
husbands for his daughters. They are both excellent cooks, but
have lived so long in the shadow of their overbearing mother that
they do not have much personality. It is also unfortunate that
despite their physical shortcomings, they are not humble. Instead,
they seem to spend their days waiting on their mother and
exhibiting ill will toward everyone they come in contact with. I
have no doubt that as soon as I leave their house, the three
women discuss how dowdy my dress is, how tired my eyes look
and what a poor grandmother I am.
Nonetheless, this is my settlement, so I persevere in staying
connected to all who are in it. If Hawwa can bear the lives of her
children, I can bear the lives of mine.
My granddaughter answers the door and receives the tea with
grudging gratitude. I do not care how many valuables they have
in their home, the tea from my garden is as good as anything sold
along the Tigris.
She shows me up to her mother's room where Nava is sitting
on silk cushions and appears to be doing nothing more
meaningful than examining her fingernails.
God's blessing to you, Nava, I say, sitting down on a hard
wooden chair, the only other seat in the room.
Hello Baraka, says Nava, who has never taken to calling me
Mother.
How is your health? I inquire.
It is a standard question. As long as one is alive, the acceptable
reply is, Praise Yah, I am well. But Nava rarely answers this
way. I await with interest her complaint for today.
224
I could be mortally ill, she says. For all Rasujal would care.
Her voice is hoarse.
It would easily be cured by lemon tea, I reply. One of
Pyramides's boys had the same thing. I gave him lemon tea and it
cleared his throat right away.
The little beasts were around here yesterday, she said.
Feeding scraps to the dragons. No doubt I caught it from one
of them.
This might be true, if Nava ever went out to where the
dragons are caged.
I shall bring you some lemons, I say. One glass of tea with
some honey will cure your throat.
Not everything is cured by tea, says one of my
granddaughters, as she comes into the room with a tray holding a
jug of berry wine and two small glasses.
I suppose that is true, I say agreeably.
Nava pours us each a glass of wine. This berry wine is her one
contribution to the settlement, her only act of labour to harvest
the berries and process them into this delicious drink. I suspect
that it has probably soothed many arguments between her and
Rasujal.
The conversation turns to Nava's daughter-in-law, the giant.
It is not right, says Nava, shaking her head. I can barely lift
my grandson. He is only three and is already the size of a ten-
year-old.
I nod sympathetically. The giantess and I have very little in
common, although she was raised in a settlement among the sons
of Cain. Mostly we discuss her children. She towers over me, but
is mild-mannered and seems much like any other woman, only
larger. I doubt very much that she has bruises on her arms. Her
husband is two heads shorter than her.
But your grandchildren are strong, I say. No doubt, they
will be of great help to Rasujal with his lizards.
Nava shrugs, refusing to see any good in the giants.
I have noticed that the giants who do not come from Enoch
have barely heard of Semjaza and have very little interest in their
origins. They call themselves the Mighty Ones and their children
are sought after for the armies built up by the bigger settlements.
I inquire about the berries in the wine we are drinking. With
enthusiasm, Nava tells me that this is a combination of
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225
blueberries, blackberries and raspberries.
I tell her that it is excellent and she shows some pride. It is the
only time I see her smile. I ask if she would like to take a walk
with me sometime in the woods. I do not tell her that it is my
opinion that she stays in the house too much. But she says she is
too busy. I have no idea how this can be, but I do not push it.
With very little in common, we are, at least, on good terms.
Thanking her for the wine, I return to my own home and
begin making a meal for Jared and myself. He surprises me after
dinner by suggesting we go for a walk to the star map.
It is a full moon, he says.
I nod.
A full moon is a festival to Yah, even if it is something we
only keep in our hearts. It is a long time since the sons of Seth
have gathered together under a full moon to dance to Yah.
Even Tikvah's wedding under a full moon cannot taint the joy
I feel on the nights I look up in the sky and see the round white
moon shining down on our settlement.
Jared takes my hand as we move along the path to the star
map. The path is faithfully cleared by Jared for any traveller who
comes our way and wants to worship among the pyramids, few
though they be.
My mind is still on Methuselah not taking a wife and Nava
who refuses to leave her home for anything but her berries, but I
do not share these thoughts with Jared. I have found that light
talk does not usually interest him and he only wants to know
something if it requires his attention. Since neither does, we walk
in the darkness in silence.
Where is Enoch tonight? Jared asks suddenly.
I do not know, I say, startled. With Edna, I suppose.
Though I know Edna has spent many evenings alone when
Enoch is out walking with Yah. She does not complain. She
knows she might be the only woman on earth as close to Yah as
she is.
I need to talk to him, says Jared.
I wait to see if he will tell me why. He does.
He has neglected his star map and now his son does the
same. His son does not even take a wife. I must talk to him, and
maybe to Methuselah too.
So Edna's woes are in alignment with Jared's concerns.
226
They are both still young, I say. Enoch is only 251-years-
old and Methuselah is 186-years-old.
Do not think that I do not know that Enoch wanders the
forests when he should be establishing a settlement. Of course,
he cannot establish a settlement because he refuses to have any
more children. So his settlement would consist of him and Edna.
At least, Methuselah has a clearing of his own, but what does he
do? Does he take a wife? No, he sits and . . .
. . . and waits for the end to come, I think, recalling the strange
meaning of his name.
. . . and feeds himself, I suppose, Jared finishes.
Jared knows that Enoch walks with Yah. I do not know how
he found out, only that he did. But no matter that Enoch has this
special connection, a son of Seth must still honour his father.
I will be interested to know how this conversation with Enoch
goes. Perhaps I will find out from Jared. Or perhaps not.

But the next day there is big news.
I am in the courtyard when Edna hurries in, her face glowing.
In anticipation of a talk over tea, I quickly add some water to the
pot that sits on the iron stove.
Methuselah is to take a wife! Edna tells me excitedly. She
has not even waited for me to brew the tea. It is all to be
arranged within a year!
What is this! I say, turning to her, the boiling water
momentarily forgotten. It is only three hours after sunrise. Has
Jared already talked to Enoch? I thought he was behind our
house chopping wood.
It is true! says Edna nodding. Enoch talked with Yah in the
night and Yah instructed him to take a wife for his son. Indeed,
they are to have a child within a year!
What does Methuselah say to this? I ask. We return to my
sitting room, the tea entirely forgotten.
Enoch has gone to talk to him now, says Edna, leaning back
on my cushions. I do not even know who the woman is to be.
But, oh Mother! she grasps my hand. I shall hold a child this
time next year!
I nod. It is a great joy to hold a baby. It has been 186 years
since Edna held her own child and I can understand her longing.
Edna is in a stir.
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227
There has not even been a wedding, but already she is
discussing the clothing she is going to make for the baby and the
soft blankets she will knit together.
I smile to myself. It is good to see Edna's face so lit up with
joy.
Jared is flabbergasted when I tell him the news. He has not
talked to Enoch all day. He stomps off after dinner to find out
what is going on.
I sip raspberry leaf tea, waiting for him to return. When he
does, he uncharacteristically wants to talk.
He is as calm as can be, says Jared, falling into the chair
across from me. Yah has told Enoch to tell Methuselah to take a
wife and have a son. That is all he will say. It is impossible for me
to understand how a man who spends so much time talking to
Yah can be so brief when recounting his conversations.
I watch my husband and realize he is jealous of Enoch's
relationship with Yah. Jared is a good man, but he does not have
what his son does.
Perhaps it is because Enoch has unashamedly made everything
else in his life less important than Yah. He has not required that
Edna bear him sons, the acquisition of possessions means
nothing to him, and even the star maps do not consume him. It is
Jared who has had to hear the complaints of the pious sons of
Seth that Enoch is not carrying on the tradition. No one can talk
to Enoch because he is either not there to talk to or maddeningly
indifferent to the controversy.
Still, I say. It is done. The line will continue.
The line will continue, Jared agrees. He reaches for the pot
of tea and pours himself some. Oh Baraka! Have you ever
wished you had just stayed in the city of Cain and never walked
among the sons of Seth?
The question startles me.
Not for a moment, I say truthfully.
Good, he says, reaching across the table to take my hand.
You could have been a goddess there. I do not think Semjaza
would have done to you what he did to Naamah and Tikvah. He
was angry that they were not you.
That is an idea entirely new to me. And surprising.
But who am I? I say, bewildered.
Who are you to inspire such devotion? he says smiling.
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You did to me the first time I saw you.

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Chapter Twenty Five
ethuselah's wedding is held at the star map.
Conveniently, Yah seems to have told Enoch who
the right wife for Methuselah is. I fear I will lose Edna
to Methuselah's chosen wife. Her name is also Edna, but she
does not mind Ena as a variation.
It is what my mother always calls me and it will make me feel
at home if you do, as well, she says.
She is gentle and sweet and we all love her. Ena is, of course,
not pregnant yet, but Edna is already doting on her as if she is.
We are standing under a full moon. It has been a small
wedding, but attended by Seth, as well as his son Enosh. Cainan
and Mahalalel have also attended with their wives and some of
their children. I am happy to be temporarily reunited with Kalah
and her active children.
Edna and I have prepared all the refreshments. Nava has been
generous in sharing her berry wine.
Now, my dear, says Edna, leading Ena to some chairs that
have been brought to the star map for some of the older guests.
You must rest.
I smile.
M
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Edna, she has not conceived her child yet.
But she might tonight, says Edna, hardly noticing Ena's
blush. But Ena is good-natured and sits to please her new
mother-in-law. I am happy to see that Methuselah very soon joins
her and is an attentive husband. Now that he has a wife, he seems
to be pleased about the whole thing. Ena is not beautiful, but she
has a lovely nature and he is obviously enjoying her company.
My house in the meantime is lively again. Kalah's children mix
with their cousins and soon even the stuffing is coming out of
some of the cushions.
Jared looks at me with exasperation, but I just shrug. After all,
when they all go home, I can easily restuff them. I do not mind.
Kalah joins me in the courtyard to complain about married
life. Her husband is lazy. Her husband does not listen to her. Her
husband is a poor example to the children. At least she does not
have bruises on her arm. Her husband seems fine to me, his only
shortcoming being that he prefers the company of men to the
company of his wife. Right now, he and some of his cousins are
out on the porch enjoying Nava's wine.
I get some bread out of the oven and leave it on a table under
a cloth. Everyone can make his or her own way to bed and down
to breakfast tomorrow. Methuselah has already taken his bride
home and Seth and Enosh and their wives are already asleep
upstairs.
Would you like me to help you get the children to bed? I ask
Kalah.
I am just going to let them run until they are exhausted.
I nod and though I would rather be in bed, I stay with her in
the courtyard, seated on a bench, talking about life in the
settlement of Cainan. There is no doubt that despite my
daughter's complaints, the settlements occupied by the direct
descendants of Seth have a greater peace than the ones lived in
by our Father Adam's other children. I point this out to Kalah,
but she is not soothed.
But how have you put up with Father all these years? she
asks me. I did not realize it as his daughter, but as a wife, I see
that Father hardly seems to realize that you have needs of your
own. For example, this courtyard is a mess. The stones are
crumbling. Why does he not fix it? You spend so much time here
and yet he lets the walls fall in.
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231
I shrug.
I suppose I let him be who he is and just leave it at that.
Kalah shakes her head at this approach to marriage.
If I did that, the roof would fall in on us.
I smile.
I imagine your father would notice if the roof fell in.
But by then the event would have happened, grumbles
Kalah. It's the star maps, she continues. Cainan's wife
complains of it all the time. Always the star maps. Cainan's house
is collapsing on top of them, but he is too busy making sure the
star map is intact. He has workers repairing stones on the
pyramids but he cannot spare one to put some new shutters in
his windows.
She rambles on into the night. I listen with half an ear.
And then something stirs inside of me. An awareness. It is
beyond me and near, at the same time.
Yes!
I do believe Edna is right!
A child will be conceived tonight.
And the line will continue. Whatever end is to come, there is
still hope.

Methuselah and Ena give me an honour that is almost too
great. They ask me to name their son. The child was born almost
nine full moons to the day after they were married.
Edna, known for her own personal modesty and simple tastes,
has outfitted him in robes fit for a trader of diamonds.
Now, two weeks later, we are visiting them in their settlement.
Though their settlement is only one home, a large garden and
fields of grain, this new life has filled it with people coming to
offer their warmest hopes for Methuselah's son.
Holding the tiny boy, they leave me alone with him in their
bedroom. I am grateful. I whisper a prayer to Yah to guide me in
this decision.
The name that comes to my mind is the one of the only father
I ever knew, Lamech.
It seems a strange choice, and yet, very few people know of
my family in Cain, so they would not associate it with the city of
Enoch.
Lamech, I whisper. It means, man of prayer. And with a
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world rapidly forgetting what it is to call on the name of Yah, he
will be very needed.
Everyone returns and I announce my decision. Jared looks
surprised. Methuselah and Ena are pleased. Immediately they
look down at the child in my arms and call him Lamech. The
name will have new meaning for me now that it is my great-
grandson's.
It is a good name, says Jared to me, when we are walking
back to our own settlement. Rasujal told us to bring one of his
dragons along to protect us in the woods but Jared said that the
day he cannot travel between the settlements without a lizard to
protect him is the day he would like to die.
I believe it is the name Yah gave to me, I say, taking his
hand.
The child is evidently the will of Yah, says Jared.
True.
I think, perhaps, the star maps do not bring us closer to
Yah, says Jared.
It is an abrupt and startling statement.
It is a way to honour him, I say, hesitantly, recalling how
Enoch first saw Yah in the forest by the map.
I walk among them and I do not feel his presence, says
Jared. They are a monument to us, not to him.
It is certainly true that it takes many men to create a pyramid.
The men are strong, certainly, but the achievement is one that I
have not seen or heard of anywhere else. Only the sons of Seth
know how to, or even desire to, build them.
Perhaps the idea of Yah inspires us to create such things, I
say.
I was the one who worked with the men, Baraka. They were
not inspired by Yah. And look at the world now. Men use their
energy to create walled settlements and arms to defend them. I
suppose I would rather die among the pyramids than behind a
wall.
I nod. Jared has never taken an interest in maintaining the wall
of our settlement. That is entirely Rasujal's area of concern.
Rasujal also puts great confidence in his dragons, saying if our
walls are ever breached, he will release them from their cages. It is
my opinion that his dragons would be just as likely to eat us as
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eat our attackers.
It is the Garden that interests me, Jared says, thoughtfully.
The garden? I say, surprised, thinking of my humble garden
with its produce.
He nods.
Eden.
Oh! Eden.
My husband does not say anything. He is in his own world.
I suppose there is no going back, I say, eventually.
Again, my husband is quiet. I almost think he does not agree
with me.
Is it Life you seek? I ask. Or is it Yah?
Both, he says.
He stops walking.
But there must be a way, Baraka!
A way to what, Jared? I ask, bewildered.
A way back! he says. Would Yah do that? One choice? One
chance? Murder and death?
Enoch seems to believe an end will come, I say. In the year
Methuselah dies, a judgement will come.
Yes, there is that, says Jared, slowly. Will Yah then make
himself known to us? Will he judge those who have forgotten
him?
It is a possibility, I say. Of course, if Enoch will not talk to
his own wife about the matter, he will not discuss it with us.
Jared starts walking again.
I am almost tempted to return to the Garden myself, says
Jared.
I picture my husband's life coming to an abrupt end when he
encounters the flaming sword.
But I think I will call upon the name of Yah, instead, he
says.
I nod.
That sounds good, I say.
The sons of Seth have forgotten to call on the name of
Yah, he continues. I will not travel to the Great Pyramid. I will
do it anywhere . . . He stops and looks around. Here, even.
Then he startles me. Oh Yah! he cries out. I have forgotten
you and now I remember! Show mercy to my family and me! We
were building pyramids when we should have been calling out to
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you! We let our children stray and they have paid with their lives.
I am quiet, thinking of Tikvah.
No longer! Jared cries out. No longer will I forget! I will
call on your name until the day my voice is hoarse and I can no
longer speak.
Then he grabs my hand and we walk briskly back to the
settlement, my husband energized and determined. I do not
know what this means, but it seems to me to be very good.

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Chapter Twenty Six
ared is different now.
He stays closer to the house. It is in dramatic contrast to
how much of his time the star map used to take up. Now we
eat three meals a day together, whereas, in the past, he was often
gone for two of them.
If only Kalah could see her father now.
He redoes our entire roof and repairs the columns in my
courtyard. We make regular trips to visit with Methuselah and
Ena and little Lamech.
Lamech is a delight to play with. Jared has crafted him a set of
blocks. He and I sit on the floor of Methuselah and Ena's
spacious sitting room and build all sorts of things.
The blocks continue to be a favourite toy even as he grows.
His favourite animals are dragons, not the ferocious beasts
that Rasujal raises, but the gentle giants like Behemoth. So Jared
carves him a whole set of lizards and we make walls with the
blocks for them to climb over.
Edna brings Lamech a specially tamed kitten to play with and
he and I make all sorts of obstacle courses for it to climb over,
laughing with delight as it leaps over and balances on our
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236
creations.
Jared now sits for long hours with Methuselah, discussing Yah.
Methuselah says his father, Enoch, knows Yah better than any
man on earth.
Even Father Adam? says Jared, sipping the delicious ginger
tea that Ena serves us when we visit her. It is her own creation
and she mixes in the sugar cane that has become so popular in all
the settlements.
I think Father Adam knows Yah in a different way, says
Methuselah, leaning down to retrieve a soft ball. He rolls it across
the room causing the kitten to chase it. Lamech laughs with
approval. Today we are sitting on the floor making pyramids with
the blocks. No doubt he knows he has brought evil into the
world and is determined to resist it in whatever way he can. But it
is my father who trusts in the goodness of Yah.
Methuselah stands up to return his clay mug to the courtyard
where Ena is preparing a salad for lunch.
I have been thinking something over, Methuselah says,
coming back into the dining room. I am going to take Ena and
Lamech to meet with Father Adam.
Just about to place a block on the top of a huge pyramid, I
pause, startled.
It may not be a safe journey, I say.
Methuselah nods his acknowledgement.
But it is important I think. Father Adam and Hawwa rarely
travel anymore. Even Father Seth has not met Lamech yet. So we
will stop there on our way.
This is all very true, says Jared slowly.
I do not like the idea, but I cannot deny that if Lamech is to
meet those who came before him, this journey is necessary.
How long will you be gone? Jared asks.
I am thinking that we should plan to be gone for at least
twenty rotations of the earth around the sun.
That long! I burst out.
Methuselah nods.
What does your father say? Jared asks.
Oh my father thinks I should just stay put. I do not know if
that is his opinion or the opinion of Yah. I think it is his own.
But perhaps it would be wise to regard his opinion, I say.
I honour my father, Methuselah says. But I make this
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decision for Lamech.
Edna will be heartbroken, I think.
There are a few moments of silence, broken by Jared.
You are right, he says firmly. Enoch has never left the
settlement because he has found Yah so close to home. The rest
of us, however . . . He glances at me. . . . have had to make a
journey to seek the will and presence of Yah.
I nod. It is true. Had I not made my own journey, I would
have never even seen a glimpse of Yah.
I leave Lamech playing with his kitten and join Ena in the
courtyard.
How do you feel about this? I ask.
She does not have to ask me what I am referring to.
I am excited, she says, turning to me with a wooden bowl of
salad. I take it as she turns back for a platter of bread. To meet
Father Adam and Hawwa, Mother of All Living! I never dreamed
I would do such a thing.
I look back to Lamech on the ground.
He is very special, I say. He is a direct descendant of Seth,
the son who replaced Abel. From father to eldest son.
Ena nods.
You have given birth to a direct descendant in this line too,
she says. And you have also met Father Adam and Hawwa,
Mother of All Living.
I agree with her as we take the food into the dining room. My
journey was dangerous at the time but the world has only gotten
more violent. Still, Yah must be sought even in violent times.
We return to our settlement after the midday meal. My heart is
heavy. The sparkle that came into my life when Lamech was born
is about to be taken from me. And I dread Ednas reaction to this
news.
But Jared does not share my sense of loss. He is whistling.
And why are you so cheerful? I ask. We are about to lose
three people who are dear to us.
We are losing them to the will of Yah, he points out. It is
good that the sons of Seth will meet the child who carries their
hope.
But what is our hope? I demand.
Our hope is in Yah, says Jared. Yah has promised an end to
the evil. We wait for that.
238
It is something to think about. Yah has promised a judgement
when Methuselah is gone. I doubt we will live to see it. But the
line of Seth is to continue, nonetheless. What form will the
judgement take?
Pondering these unanswerable questions consumes my mind
on the walk home.

As I anticipated, Edna is filled with grief at the news that her
son and his wife are about to embark on a journey that could
mean that she will not see her grandson again until he is a grown
man.
Nava's response to the whole thing is bewilderment. Why
leave a settlement to go derelict? It is impossible to convey to her
that, like Enoch, Methuselah is not overly concerned about his
house and garden.
Methuselah is busy harvesting his fields to fund the journey,
although he plans to bring his farming implements with him to
hopefully work while he is away.
Jared does not think this is a practical suggestion.
He will be a migrant worker, he says. It is no life for a wife
and a child.
I agree but I do not know what to do about it.
We are in our courtyard. Jared is helping me clean the iron
stove. He straightens up, streaks of ash on his arms.
Baraka! he says.
Yes?
The sons of Jabal!
I get up off my knees and join him.
What are you talking about, dearest? I ask, grateful that he is
willing to share this dirty task with me.
The tent-dwellers! he says, grabbing my shoulders. The
ones we stayed with when we were outside Enoch!
I know where his mind is going. And I agree.
Yes! A tent. And some livestock, perhaps.
Jared nods.
It is a self-sustaining life. They can sell the wool and live off
of that.
It is not an easy life, I say thoughtfully.
They will not find fields of their own where they are going,
says Jared. If they attempt to farm on land that is not their own,
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239
they could be murdered.
Livestock would be better, I say quickly.
Come with me! he says, grabbing my arm. We must do this
quickly! They could leave any day!
In our dusty state, we hurry out of the settlement and down
the long path that leads to the river. I think I know what Jared is
going to do.
At the river, we wash up and wait for the traders.
Sure enough, when they arrive, Jared says he has a house full
of furniture which he would like to trade for a goat-hair tent and
as many animals as he can. The trader looks interested but says it
depends on the quality of the furniture.
Jared is an excellent worker of wood, so I know this will not
be a problem.
The traders moor at the tiny dock and the head-trader joins us
in the walk back to the settlement.
I am not a trader in livestock, he says. But I do have a tent.
And if the furniture is good, I can give you coins to trade for the
livestock.
Jared nods. The traders who handle livestock usually do not
want large items. They want smaller items, like valuable stones.
Their boat is too full of animals for much else.
The trader is impressed with the furniture.
Did I not do business with you once, many years ago? he
asks.
Jared nods.
As I recall, I had no problem selling your furniture. He is
circling the large dining-room table. Too many people nowadays
do not make their furniture with such care. My own dining-room
table fell apart when one of my children jumped on it. I might
keep this item for myself.
He returns to his boat to bring back his associates. And so,
once again, I see the traders going through my home and
carrying away all of its contents.
But once again, it is the right thing to do. And replacing it will
keep Jared busy now that he no longer is interested in
maintaining the star map.
We come back to our empty house with a large black tent and
a handful of gold coins.
That night, we eat on cushions, our plates on the floor. Only
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the iron stove is left. Even our bed is gone. The floor is hard but
Jared promises to start on the bed as soon as we have obtained
livestock.

Every gold coin is spent on the next boatload of animals that
comes along.
The traders are pleased, now able to return home without
having to travel the length of the river. People usually only buy
one or two animals at a time. Jared says we will take the sheep
and the goats straight to Methuselah and Ena, stopping only at
our settlement for the tent.
Rasujal's eyes widen as he sees us with our herds.
His dragons start to grunt and strain in their cages, eager to
get out and devour the animals. Pyramides, his wife and his
children all come out to see this unusual sight. Even Nava is
leaning out of an upper-story window. Her son and the giantess
and their children hear the commotion and come out to pet the
animals.
We take these to Methuselah! Jared calls out. Will you not
accompany us in wishing them well on their journey?
Edna joins us, teary-eyed.
Even Nava joins the long procession through the woods. Each
child wants to take responsibility for an animal, so we move
slowly, but at least without fear that we will lose any of our
precious creatures.
Will Methuselah know how to handle such a herd? I ask
Jared over the din.
It will serve him one way or another, he says. If he does
not care for the life of a herdsman, he can sell the animals along
the way.
I nod.
It is a form of wealth that is rarely preyed upon the wealth
of a herdsman. Few people want the work associated with the
animals and yet, everyone appreciates the wool or animal skins.
Animals can also be used to carry heavy loads, so Jared is right.
Methuselah will easily be able to sell the animals if he wants to.
Ena is out in the field helping Methuselah with his harvest
when we arrive. Even Lamech is helping to bundle the sheaves.
The three of them stop and stare in amazement.
What is all this? asks Methuselah, coming forward,
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surveying the flocks and the people.
This is for you, says Jared. He has been leading the goat that
carries the load of the tent. Now he hands the lead to
Methuselah. Methuselah accepts it, speechless.
It is for your journey, I explain, as Ena joins her husband.
Lamech is laughing, already petting the sheep.
These are for us? asks Ena in her sweet voice. Oh how I
shall miss her! But how glad I am to know we can send them off
with something that will sustain them on their journey.
Everyone nods, enjoying the moment.
Methuselah and Ena's gratitude eradicate our concern that we
might have overstepped our boundaries. Ena is crying her
appreciation. Methuselah is shaking his head and talking about,
the ways of Yah.
I really did not know how I would meet the needs of my
family, he says to Jared. I only knew that Yah wanted me to
take Lamech to meet Father Adam.
Then there are hugs all around and everyone joins in to make
a makeshift pen for the animals. Young Lamech already has the
branch of a tree and is showing a remarkable aptitude for
steering the animals and keeping them in a herd.
I join Ena in the courtyard where she is preparing an
impromptu meal for her unexpected guests.
She smiles and nods toward the baskets of vegetables on the
ground.
We were going to trade them tomorrow for some coins for
the journey, she said. Now we will not have to.
She and I chop vegetables and make several dishes a tomato
soup, a mixed vegetable cobbler and a mushroom stew.
Nava surprises us by sending her son and some of her
grandsons back to our settlement to get her remaining supply of
berry wine.
Soon, we are all seated inside and outside the home, eating
and talking and laughing. It has been a long time since we
gathered together like this. Even Edna is smiling, although I see
sadness shadow her face when she looks over at Lamech playing
with one of his giant cousins. Later, she and I insist on cleaning
the plates and cups, telling Ena to relax and enjoy the family time.
Oh Baraka! Edna says, her arms in a large wooden basin of
water. I do not know how I will bear this loss!
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Yah will make a way, I murmur, cleaning out one of Nava's
wine pitchers.
I know, says Edna. But he never seems to talk to me.
I nod sympathetically. Only Enoch is not here with us today,
gone off in the forest with Yah.
And how did you and Jared afford to outfit them with a tent
and herds? she demands, her gruffness an attempt to overcome
her pain.
I smile and shake my head. She will know soon enough next
time she comes to my house for tea.
You two! she says, shaking her head at my reticence, almost
sounding disapproving. But I know she is happy that at least her
son and grandson will leave the settlement in strength, not as
waifs.
There is so much for us to bear, I say, putting away a pile of
plates on some shelves. No doubt these plates will be left behind
to gather dust but, in the meantime, we can leave things in a tidy
state.
Oh Baraka, says Edna, sinking down into a wooden chair. I
am selfish. We all have situations to bear and you do it without
complaining. I have no reason to mourn. My husband, my son
and my grandson are all in good health. I carry on as if they
are . . . She does not want to say dead, in consideration for my
memory of Tikvah.
I put my arm around her shoulders.
It is a heavy load for Edna to bear because when Methuselah
and Ena and Lamech leave, she will lose everything. I still have
children and now I even have a husband who is a continual
companion.
That night, though we are tired from the walk back and the
floor of our bedroom is inflexible, I feel a rush of affection for
Jared and the result is a late night of lovemaking on an
unforgiving surface.
Though Jared groans about his back the next day, I notice
there is a sparkle in his eye.

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Chapter Twenty Seven
e is fifty-six today, says Edna.
She does not need to tell me who. Lamech. Who I
have not seen now for over forty years and who Edna
has seen only twice since they left to be with Father Adam. But
messages have come via the traders who deliver written
communications to the settlements, for a small price.
Lamech is a favourite of Adam's. The young man is often by
his great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather's side,
supporting him and assisting him.
Edna sighs heavily.
It is not easy to shake her out of this state-of-mind.
Nava is recovering nicely from her surgery, I say, trying to
give her something else to think about. Though our settlement is
lacking any medical facilities, Cainan has recently employed four
doctors and a surgeon for his, and the sons of Seth are now
travelling down the river to be treated by them.
Nava has always said that she suffers from poor health and
insisted that Rasujal accompany her to the settlement for an
examination. The surgeon agreed with her. He removed her
womb saying it was the trouble. She did not share it with us, but
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ever since her last child, she suffered from blood loss for 14 days
at a time. I repent of any passing thought I had that she was just
lazy and well-fed. Even Rasujal is showing more compassion
toward Nava, insisting in our presence that she rest. It makes me
wonder what he used to say to her when they were alone.
Edna nods.
I saw out among her berry bushes. Her step is much lighter
now and she actually looks cheerful.
But Edna does not look cheerful.
I never suffered as she did, says Edna. I would have
happily borne more children.
I try again.
The sons of Avanim need more people for their coal-mines,
I say. I think Nava's grandchildren might end up there.
Since the pyramids are no longer being built, many of the
sons of Avanim have pursued other resources from the ground.
They still have stone quarries but they also have coal-mines.
Nava has my sympathy, says Edna dully. I know what it is
to lose a grandchild.
I strain my brain to think of something that Edna cannot
connect to her loss of Methuselah and Lamech. She is still my
closest confidante, but sometimes she gets in these dark moods.
Chaya tells me that her husband's brother is to appear before
a jury, I say.
This has been an ongoing case. Chaya husband's brother killed
a man and it has not been determined whether it was in self-
defence or a premeditated act. Only the sons of Seth bother to
make distinctions between such acts on the basis of motive and
circumstances. Usually, among the sons of Adam, it is simply a
case of the strong man versus the weak man and the weak man
ends up dead.
Edna does not find this bit of news interesting. Jared and I
have recently returned from Mahalalel's settlement and it is all
that they are talking about there.
I get up and go to one of my shelves. On it is a jar of the
cocoa powder that Chaya always has on hand. She gave me the jar
upon our parting. Tea lifts the spirits, but today, Edna needs
something stronger. With the boiling water and some sugar cane,
I prepare her a cocoa drink. While I make it, I discuss the recent
news I received from Ena. She has joined with the daughters of
245
Eve in cultivating flax and creating a strong, but light, fabric
called linen.
She has promised to send me some, I say, bringing the clay
mug over to Edna.
Edna takes her drink with indifference, but visibly becomes
more animated as her mug empties. Soon she is her usual self,
discussing the birth of five new kittens. A side business has
formed for her as a result of Rasujal's dragons. Many families
who come to select a dragon to guard the outside of their home,
end up purchasing one of Edna's cats as an animal for the inside
of their home. Their children quickly become friends with her
cats and I think it is good for them to have an animal companion.
I must come and see them, I say. It would be nice to have
some life around the house. Perhaps I will purchase a couple.
I would never let you do that, says Edna. They would be
my gift to you. Two of the kittens are grey. They would be a
delightful pair.
After our drink, we cross the settlement, meeting Pyramides's
youngest grandchild on the way. She joins us for a visit with the
kittens and we have an afternoon in Edna's house, on the floor
playing with the lively creatures. Pyramides's youngest grandchild
returns home with an orange kitten, sure that she can persuade
her parents to let her keep it. I go outside with two squirming
grey bundles under my arms.
Hello Mother, says Enoch, coming up his steps and kissing
me on the cheek. He laughs at my difficulty in holding the kittens.
Let me help. He takes one and gets a scratch for his
consideration. Ouch. I hope you will be able to handle them,
Mother. He turns and we walk toward my home.
I am sure I will find a way, I say, now able to get a more
firm grip on just the one kitten. Food is one way to bribe good
behaviour.
You will not have to worry about mice getting into your grain
with these two fellows guarding the courtyard, says Enoch.
We walk in silence until I ask what his new with him. Eight
years ago he turned 300-years-old. He is still youthful in his walk
and ways.
What I really want to ask is, what is new with Yah?
The world is not as it should be, says Enoch.
I smile.
246
Even I could have figured that out.
Like these rascals, I say, holding out my frisky kitten. I
suppose they once had a much sweeter disposition.
Absently agreeing, Enoch hands me the second kitten as we
reach my front door. With another quick kiss on the cheek, he is
gone.

I gasp.
It is true! Edna nods. Pyramides has just told me!
I have arrived at her doorstep with some freshly picked
strawberries, partly as a thank-you for the kittens.
Well, of course, it would be Pyramides. Enoch does not go
anywhere near the river and the traders. He has no interest in
what they offer and his home contains only the essentials for life.
Edna is tearful. I would be too, if I believed it. It will take
some time for the news to become real.
Adam, the father of us all, is dead.
It is not possible, I murmur, looking down at my basket
with unseeing eyes. But of what cause?
It is death, she cries. The punishment. No cause. Just
death.
Not an accident. Not a murder.
We did not know how it would end when Yah promised us
death.
He just did not wake up, continues Edna. Even the traders
are distraught.
But what of Hawwa, our Mother? I say.
No one knows. She stays in her house. Oh the agony! She
puts her face in her hands and weeps.
I am filled with a rush of despair. Oh Adam! Our Father! No
more! And I am crying too.
Enoch returns from the woods, concerned.
He has heard weeping in the settlement. For this news has
affected us all. We are all children of Adam.
Through tears, I tell him the news.
I rejoice that Lamech was able to spend time with Father
Adam, he replies gravely. We all knew he would not always be
with us.
247
What do you mean? I ask. I did not know. We have death,
yes. But who would dare to murder Father Adam? And if a man
is careful, he will not have an accident.
Father Adam was now 930, says Enoch. On the day he
sinned, he died.
That is something I do not understand, I say.
You have not seen him recently, Mother, says Enoch.
When Edna and I were there last, he was not what he once was.
He was a tired man, weary. Methuselah told me he was too weary
to work in the fields anymore. All his children helped, of course,
but it seems the life was just leaving him.
I leave Edna to mourn with Enoch, returning home to find
Jared waiting for me.
The whole world will mourn tonight, Jared says slowly,
covering my hand with his.
I nod.
As the traders slowly make their way down the rivers, the news
will be carried throughout the whole earth. And we will mourn as
one for our father.

The next afternoon, Jared and I join the long procession of
people travelling along the Tigris. It is Father Adam's children,
returning to the birthplace of us all, to be with our Mother
Hawwa at this time.
The people are quiet.
Sons of Seth mingle with all the sons of Adam. Even the sons
of Cain are among the people. But I do not see the giants.
Some people stop in awe at the sight of the Great Pyramid,
but most move along in silence.
The journey is slow and long and it is many days before we
arrive at the fields surrounding the home of Father Adam and
Hawwa.
It is an awesome sight a vast plain of people. It must be a
comfort to Hawwa that her children have returned home to
mourn with her. We sit on the ground, some weeping, others just
still. Only small children provide noise and activity.
Jared and I sit quietly, holding hands. Soon, others from our
settlement find us and join us, but for the most part, we are all
intermingled, the children of Adam, not sitting according to our
father's.
248
We sit and wait for several days, waiting for all the children of
Adam to return home. Then the announcement comes that
tomorrow Adams body will be buried.
Seth is the son who is given the task of burying our father. It
is Seth's wisdom that he does not call upon his sons and
grandsons to assist him, but upon all the sons of Adam. We see
these patriarchs rise and move through the seated crowds to join
their brother.
There is a murmur through the crowd when one of them
stands. I recognize the tired-looking man. It is Father Cain! Most
in the crowd have never seen him, but it is a common story of
how he built the first city after being banished from this land
outside the Garden. I watch as he makes his way forward with his
brothers. They are hesitant for only a moment, before he is
welcomed as their eldest brother, with pats on the back and
smiles of sympathy. He is now the oldest man on earth.
I almost weep at the site of these older men, for now we all
know how it ends. It just does. There is no way to protect oneself
from it. Death comes to one no matter how carefully one may
live.
Quietly, the word passes through the people that Hawwa has
prepared Father Adam's body with spices and wrapped it in linen
cloth. He is to be buried in the ground, as Yah has said, For you
are dust and to dust you will return.
Though we are too far back to actually see Father Adam's
body go into the ground, after his sons have buried him, we all
form a procession to pass by the mound of dirt that he is under.
For what purpose, I do not know. He is beyond awareness. One
final goodbye, I suppose.
By circumstances, Jared and I end up beside Father Cain's
wife, Awan, in the line. She is also looking worn.
I take her arm, though it is unlikely she remembers me from
the days of Enoch.
This is a day of deep mourning for her. For Father Adam is
her father too, and she has not seen him since the day she
accompanied Cain to the Land of Wandering. All the sons of
Adam married a sister and so, her pain must be as great as any
woman has had to bear. On the day she accompanied her
husband and brother, she lost both her father and mother.
She is trembling. I hold her arm and then put my other arm
249
around her to give her more support. We are both crying. When
we pass the ground where her father lies, she will see her mother
again after nearly 900 years of exile.
The sun moves from overhead to low in the sky by the time it
is our turn to pass by the ground that holds Father Adam.
Hawwa is being supported by two of her daughters.
A noise comes from Awan. It is a cry of anguish, so raw and
so distressing that it increases my own weeping. Alhough by now
Hawwa looks too weary to cry, and so many people have passed
by her that we must all be a blur, the cry of her daughter reaches
her. She looks over at me and the wife of Cain.
Mother! The pleading of a child is in Awan's voice. She
breaks from me and runs to Hawwa.
With her own cry, Hawwa recognizes her lost child, her eldest
daughter, and moves forward to embrace her. Jared catches me
just as I am to collapse. I am so busy watching Hawwa's reunion
with her daughter that I barely notice the freshly turned dirt as
we pass by.
The two women are still in each other's arms when I look
back.
Perhaps some good has come from this day.

It takes time for the news to reach us.
Father Cain is dead. And in the same year as his father, Adam.
The news comes from the traders. It is only because Nava has
some berry wine to trade that I am down by the river with her.
Her husband is too busy to accompany her although we have one
of his dragons for protection.
The story told by the trader is that his house fell in on him.
The stones just came down right over his head, says the
trader, shaking his head.
Nava hardly takes the news in. After all, who is Father Cain to
her? She is examining a small piece of silk.
But what of Awan? I ask the trader. Father Cain's wife?
The trader shrugs.
I have not heard a report of her death.
Perhaps she was visiting one of her children at the time.
Nava and I return to the settlement in silence. She is admiring
her silk. I am thinking about the death of Father Cain. There is a
striking justice to the matter. Cain killed his brother Abel with a
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stone and now stones have fallen on him. Though Yah may not
move among the sons of Cain, it would seem his justice does.
If Awan still lives, perhaps now she can return home to her
mother for good and no longer dwell outside his presence in the
Land of Wandering.

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Chapter Twenty Eight
noch looks serious.
I do not like the look of concern on his face.
Is it Edna? I ask, immediately worried. He has
shown up at my door and I fear the worst.
Mother, he leans down to kiss my cheek. For a moment, I
see the young boy in him, the one who comes to his mother with
his concerns. But Enoch was never like that.
Come in, son, I say. He is on the porch and obviously not
going to talk to me standing outside. He comes inside and refuses
an offer of tea, then changes his mind and accepts one. The offer
was really a courtesy. I do not recall the last time Enoch and I sat
across from one another and talked over tea.
I hurry to the courtyard and start boiling the water. Glancing
back at Enoch, I see he is moving through the house, almost
aimlessly, his fingers running over the tops of chairs.
Father has done an excellent job of replacing your furniture,
he calls out to me.
I smile, coming back into the main room and taking a seat at
the table.
For the second time, yes.
E
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Enoch nods.
Methuselah will be home soon, he says, taking the chair
across from me. Edna is overjoyed.
I smile again. It is all she has talked about. She and Nava have
been at Methuselah's settlement, cleaning the inside of the house
so that Ena does not have to catch up on over forty years worth
of dust. Nava's new health has been a blessing in many ways. She
and Edna have even gotten the garden going again weeding out
thorns and thistles. Edna's only concern is that Nava insists on
travelling through the woods with one of Rasujal's chained
lizards. Like Jared, Edna would rather risk meeting a ruffian than
die by the whim of a dragon.
We must find Lamech a wife, Enoch continues.
Did they not meet anyone for him when they lived among
the sons of Adam?
I return to the water that is now boiling and prepare us some
tea. With a plate of date cookies, I return to the table.
Thank you, Mother, says Enoch.
I do not inquire as to why he is here. It is enough that he is.
I am sure that Methuselah will find him a wife among the
children of Mahalel, or perhaps, Cainan, I say. He probably
wants to return here and settle back in before finding someone.
And Lamech must build a home.
I suppose you are right, says Enoch. Women seem to need
homes.
We both smile.
Enoch looks around. Again, I sense that he is seeing the room
for the first time.
Mostly, we sip our tea in silence. But it is something I cherish.

The return of Methuselah and Ena and Lamech is celebrated.
All our settlement travels through the forest with food and
welcome Nava with berry wine, Rasujal with a particularly large
dragon to protect them, Edna with kittens. Even Enoch comes,
carrying flour and other food essentials to keep them going until
they reap the produce of the garden.
The travellers have only been home a day. They still have
livestock, but Ena also has her skill as a weaver of linen. Some of
the younger women want to learn the skill and Methuselah is
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planning on planting flax in his fields instead of grains.
In the midst of the festivities, I inquire about Mother Hawwa.
Sombrely, Ena tells me that she has aged considerably in the last
few months.
The sorrow is written on her face, she says. It was her
deception that resulted in death coming to her husband and
children and I think she really feels it now.
I nod.
Lamech was of no comfort to her, Ena continues. So we
had no reason to stay. She is comforted by her daughters now.
Only a woman can understand another woman's pain. The
return of Methuselah and his family have brought us joy, but at
the same time, it is a sorrow to think of Hawwa grieving for her
Adam now gone.

Despite Enoch's insistence that Lamech needs a wife,
Methuselah is too busy to give it his attention. Nava's
grandchildren have chosen to work in his flax fields rather than
to go to the coal-mines. The giantess is pleased with this as it will
be easier for her to visit her children.
Enoch is so concerned about Methuselah's gentle resistance to
finding Lamech a wife that he turns to Jared. One night, he
arrives at our door after we have finished our evening meal.
We join him outside on the porch.
You must talk to him! Enoch says to his father. It is
essential that the line of Seth continue!
Jared looks at his son and then he says one word. Why?
We are all still standing, although there are chairs lining the
porch.
It is my one unfinished business, says Enoch. The line of
Seth must continue, he repeats.
To what end? asks Jared. My star map has weeds higher
than my head. We no longer dance to Yah. Who are the sons of
Seth that it is so important that the line continue?
It is the will of Yah, Enoch insists. And it is something I
must do before . . . He stops himself.
Before what, Enoch? I move forward. He knows something.
Enoch just looks at us. He is making a decision.
Before Hawwa dies, he says finally. Since she will no longer
be around to inform the young men that it is their duty to marry
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and have children.
It is his parting comment. He turns and walks away. He has
not given us the real reason.
Both Jared and I know that it has been a long time since
Hawwa traveled among her children and even longer since she
had a special talk with an errant man who did not do his duty to
populate the earth.
Jared shakes his head as we go back inside.
I have never really been able to understand him, he says.
I can sympathize. Over the years, Enoch has been a puzzle,
but I attribute it to Yah. What seems contradictory probably
makes sense when you know the mind of Yah.
Since Methuselah's flax fields are where so many in our
settlement are now working, Jared and I decide to visit there the
next day. For a change, we walk by the river rather than in the
forest.
When we arrive at the path that will take us up to
Methuselah's settlement, we observe that two of Rasujal and
Nava's grandchildren, both giants, are in the process of
constructing a dock.
Ena's linen must be selling well if they are making a dock for
the traders, I say.
Jared nods.
Despite being such a small settlement, it is busy with activity.
Several looms are being constructed outside. There are groups of
women weaving reed baskets, no doubt for harvest time and
other needs.
Several large pots over fires are being stirred by some of our
grandnephews. They appear to be making the dye for the linen.
When I go inside, there are two completed looms in the
courtyard. Ena is instructing two of my granddaughters in the art
of weaving. They all pause when they see me, but I wave them all
to continue on.
Come have some coffee with us later! Ena calls out.
I will, I say, remembering the strong brown beans that I first
experienced on my travels in this land.
I go back outside and catch up with Jared who is on his way to
the flax fields.
He takes my hand and after a short walk in the woods, we
come out to the spacious fields.
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This is where the star map would have been, says Jared.
I nod. I already know. I cannot tell whether Jared says it with
any bitterness.
One cannot deny the beauty of the fields. The plants have
flowered and it is a field of delicate blue and green.
Workers, my great-grandsons in fact, are planting in another
field. Clearly, the plan is to have flax at various stages so there is
always a field to harvest.
Methuselah sees us and comes forward from the field in
bloom to greet us.
Father Jared, he greets my husband with the honorific title.
Dearest Mother, he says, turning to me. He kisses us each on
our cheeks.
Now how does this all work? asks Jared.
Methuselah waves a hand at the mature field.
We will cut the plants close to their roots and then winnow
them to remove the seeds. We will then loosen the fibres from
the stalks . . . Methuselah takes us through the whole process.
Jared pays attention but my mind wanders. Once again, I am
struck by how the direct descendants of Seth provide an oasis in
a harsh world. The men in the field work cheerfully and diligently.
The same was true of the men and women back at the house.
Now this is different, says Jared, as we pass by a field of
leafy green bushes with small berries. Some bushes have red
berries, others are green. Some berries are lying on reed mats out
in the sun.
Ah, yes, says Methuselah. It is Ena's second talent. She will
roast these berries and grind them to make . . .
. . . coffee! I finish.
Exactly, says Methuselah. He turns to another field that
contains a different crop.
And this is where we get our red dye from. You would not
know to look at it, but it comes from the roots. He points
beyond that. That is the plant that gives us our blue dye. With
that one, it is from the leaves.
We carry on back to the house, passing a couple of young
women, cousins of Ena, harvesting lichen from tree trunks for,
as Methuselah explains, the green dye.
Everyone at the house is having a coffee break. It is made in a
large pot in the courtyard and sweetened to make it more
256
appealing. Everyone helps himself or herself and sits around in
groups as they enjoy it.
Methuselah, Jared and I also get a small cup and join Ena and
my two granddaughters.
Is Ena a good teacher? I ask, smiling.
Oh yes! they assure me. They are two of the daughters of
Pyramides. I am glad to have them here, safely living and working
with Ena.
Since it is obviously advantageous to have everyone who
works at the settlement also live at the settlement, new homes are
being built one for the unmarried women, one for the
unmarried men. There are a couple of men working on each
home, more cousins of Ena. After the coffee, Jared joins them in
erecting walls and seems to enjoy talking with the men who are
also sons of Seth, but descended from one of Seth's younger
sons, as is Ena.
I sit under the shade of an ash tree. Occasionally, the men call
upon me to hold something in place while they hammer it in.
We will go back tomorrow, says Jared, on our walk home.

When Jared and I arrive the next day, he goes straight to the
new construction. I go into the house and find Ena preparing
mid-morning coffee for everyone. She greets me with a hug and I
tell her I am here to watch and learn and help if I can. Soon I
have grasped the basics of preparing coffee.
Would you like to try your hand at weaving? Ena asks me.
I shake my head.
I am too old to learn new things.
Ena vehemently disagrees but I tell her that I noticed her
garden needs weeding and since that is something I am extremely
skilled in, I will be doing that.
It is soothing to be among the plants doing something familiar
while all around me this settlement bustles with activity. There is
industriousness and hope here.
Ena already has a lunch in the process of being prepared, but
I volunteer to make the dinner. There are enough things in the
garden that are ripe and should be used right away.
I cannot thank you enough, says Ena, gratefully. She is truly
an artisan who would prefer to spend her days concentrating on
her craft.
257
For my own part, I am happy to once again be able to prepare
food for a greater number of people. Making soup for two is less
satisfying than making it for the forty, or so, who eat regularly at
Methuselah's table.
Some are just passing. Today, at the midday meal, there are
two traders who have come about a special order. They have
brought plants for different coloured dyes.
The matter is discussed over lunch.
It works for the cotton industry, says one of the traders. I
am sure these plants will be useful to you.
Ena agrees and barely eats as she examines the sample plants
that run down the centre of the table.
The more knowledgeable of the traders points out different
qualities of each plant. They range in price according to how
scarce they are.
Now this one, he says, produces a beautiful rich blue
colour.
What is it called? asks Ena, picking up the pot holding the
leafy green plant with delicate blue flowers.
Indigo, replies the trader.
Ena nods and picks up another.
Now that will make a lovely yellow, says the trader, reaching
for another circle of bread. It is called saffron.
Jared and I learn much over lunch.
Ena is already using onion skin to make orange fabric; walnut
husks to make dark brown; leftover coffee grinds to make light
brown; and various berries to make pink. Apparently, it is mostly
a matter of experimenting with what is in the forest and
sometimes it works and sometimes it does not. But the traders
insist that their plants are tested and true and rare - so Ena
trades them a bale of linen for all the plants on the table.
After lunch, she and Methuselah carry them off to see about
getting them into the ground. I am left to myself in the
courtyard. I am simmering some tomatoes into a sauce and will
serve it over potato spinach pie. Thankfully, Ena's shelves are
stocked with all the essentials and soon I am rolling out dough
and slicing potatoes.
We share the evening meal before returning home.
Methuselah says we should stay the night. They have plenty of
extra cushions. But Jared says it is good for old folks like us to
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have a walk after dinner.
Methuselah laughs and thanks us for our help.
We will return tomorrow, says Jared. It is good to be
useful.
And so it becomes our routine each day until the houses are
completed. And even then, we continue to visit regularly. Edna is
often there too. She is interested in the process of making dye
and often helps Ena with her fabrics. For my part, I prepare the
meals when I am there. Jared helps with the harvest in the fields.
There is never a shortage of work. And there is never a shortage
of linen either. The workers are paid in linen, in addition to their
room and three meals a day. So there is much bartering when the
traders dock at the settlement. The field workers trade their cloth
as is. Some of the more industrious of the women use their cloth
to make garments and thus increase the value of their share.
Jared refuses any such payment for our work, telling
Methuselah that we are simply family and should be treated as
such.
You are the most active family I have ever entertained,
Methuselah says, laughing. Surely there is some, even small way,
I can return your kindness.
I put forward the idea that I would not mind a coffee plant for
my own garden. When I leave that night, I am carrying a pot
filled with the large-leafed plant, heavy with berries.
Oh Baraka, says Jared, shaking his head. Please tell me you
are not addicted to that substance.
I smile, pleased with my plant.
Perhaps I am, I say. I enjoy the feeling of well-being the
drink gives me.
Now we can have coffee even on the days we do not visit
Methuselah and Ena.
But we are in Methuselah's settlement on the day the sad news
comes.
Hawwa is dead.
Everyone stops to mourn when the traders bring the news.
The shock and horror that we had when Father Adam died is not
as strong, but nonetheless, the sense of loss is great. Hawwa,
Mother of All Living is now gone. There is no other woman that
all mankind can look to as their mother. We are now, truly, a
divided people, broken down by clans and no longer united by
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common living parents.
Again, a slow procession makes its way back home and seven
days later, when the plains outside Adam and Hawwa's settlement
are covered with their children, we pass by in a long line to visit
one last time with our Mother. She is beside Adam in the ground,
a single fir tree planted to commemorate both their graves. A sign
reads, She is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh. It is said
that Father Adam uttered these words when he first saw Hawwa.
The weeping is more subdued, but it is moving as we meet
together as the children of Adam and Hawwa for the second and
last time.
I am so weary by the journey and the loss that when we return
to our settlement, I climb into bed and stay there for three days.

In the meantime, Enoch still desires that his son find a wife
for his grandson.
One day, when I am tending my own garden, Enoch joins me.
What are you harvesting, Mother? he asks me.
Mint for tea, I say cheerfully. I have had my mid-morning
coffee.
Have you been to Methuselah's settlement recently? he asks.
I nod, handing him the nearly full basket to hold onto while I
harvest the leaves at waist level.
Yesterday. No, wait, the day before yesterday. All is well
there.
That is agreeable news. But the news I would like to
hear . . .
I know, I say, my eyes on my plants. You would like to hear
that Lamech is to be married. As soon as I hear that news, I will
convey it to you.
Time is short, Mother, he says.
Now he has my attention.
It is my understanding that the time remaining to us is the
span of Methuselah's life, I say.
Yes, in a sense, says Enoch, nodding. But it is not enough.
Lamech must take a wife.
And have a child, I suppose.
Enoch nods.
I have stopped working.
You have never worried about anything, I say, thoughtfully.
260
And yet, you are concerned about this.
It is of the utmost importance, he says.
Are you certain it is the will of Yah?
More certain than anything else.
And yet, has Yah asked you to orchestrate this for him?
Enoch exhales and looks over my shoulder without seeing
anything.
No, he says.
Then I do not think it is something for you to be concerned
about, I say, watching my son.
He nods slowly.
It is a matter concerning Yah, and so, of course, it concerns
me too, says Enoch. And yet, you are right. He never asked me
to do anything about it. So I defer to you . . . and to Yah. I will
not push the matter. With a slight bow, he gently places the
basket on the ground and walks away.
Oh my son, I whisper, as I watch his back. What is it that
you know?

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Chapter Twenty Nine
t is just as well that Enoch no longer concerns himself with
the marriage of Lamech. For the boy is now 100-years-old
and there is still no talk of a wife.
In fact, he has announced that he no longer has any desire to
work in the linen industry. He will go to the Great Pyramid and
study there.
It is an option available to any son of Seth. The Great
Pyramid does not just hold the genealogies anymore, but all the
accumulated knowledge of the sons of Adam. They have maps
of the whole earth, mostly based on the knowledge of the
traders. Men with an interest in animals have sketched and
recorded the habits of all creatures created by Yah. There are
drawings of plants with their names and various known
properties.
It is a great centre of learning. For example, those who want
to practise medicine must become knowledgeable in the
medicinal plants.
Although the star map project on the ground has been
abandoned, the stars continue to be mapped on animal skins.
Unfortunately, many use this knowledge of the stars to worship
I
262
the night sky rather than Yah who made it all. They speak as if
knowledge of the stars is a gateway to insight on earth. Even
some of the sons of Seth talk this nonsense. Of course, the only
reason I can be so confident of its absurdity is because my son
walks with Yah. For those who do not know that Yah still moves
among the sons of Seth, it would be tempting to find meaning
elsewhere.
And so Lamech leaves again, much to Edna's sorrow. This
time she is more philosophical about his departure.
He is a good man and perhaps he will find a good wife, she
says, to me over a mid-morning coffee in my house.
I laugh, thinking that all of Enoch's talk must have had an
effect on Edna, although I have not heard Enoch mention
marriage for his grandson for years now.
But at least Edna still has Methuselah and Ena and we often
see her at their settlement, even after her grandson is gone.
One day, she and I are in Ena's courtyard boiling raspberries
for a pink dye when she tells me, If it is possible, I think Enoch
spends even more time with Yah.
Tell me, Edna, I say, tossing another basket of the fruit into
the pot. Have you ever felt . . . I search for the word. . . .
disappointed in Enoch as a husband?
He is not like other men, I know that, she says. But I think
that is a good thing.
I agree, I say.
He has always taken care of me, she continues. We have
our garden and we do not go hungry. He is quiet, but he is
thoughtful.
I nod. The same could be said for Jared.
So no, says Edna. I have never been disappointed. But I
understand why you ask the question. She stirs the pot gently to
crush the berries and bring out more colour.

And then something unusual happens.
Enoch starts to join us at Methuselah's settlement. He and
Edna are there everyday, although Enoch is always with his son
out in the fields.
One day I am picking the ripe beans from the coffee plants.
Methuselah is nearby, harvesting the plant that gives them the red
Chapter Twenty Nine
263
dye. Enoch is absentmindedly pulling out plants by their root and
saying, No flesh is righteous in the sight of Yah, for he is their
Creator.
Methuselah is nodding.
My son, your heart must be strong, continues Enoch. The
good shall announce righteousness to the good. The righteous
with the righteous shall rejoice, and shall offer words of hope to
one another. But the sinners shall die with the sinners, and the
apostate go down with the apostate.
Well spoken, Father, says Methuselah, as they both
straighten up.
But all unrighteousness must come to an end, Enoch
continues. It shall be pulled up as if . . . Enoch waves his hand
toward the plants he is harvesting. . . . as if by the roots.
Father, these words do not make sense to me. Why speak
riddles?
They have paused in their work.
Violence will increase, says Enoch, speaking slowly and
carefully. Yah is just and would not judge the world unless the
unrighteousness filled the whole earth.
Methuselah takes this in, nodding seriously.
You must walk in the paths of righteousness, not in the paths
of violence. For all who walk in the paths of unrighteousness
shall perish forever . . .
They start heading back to the settlement with their baskets.
Shamelessly, I make it my objective to be as near as I can to
Enoch and Methuselah when they are together. Over the next
few weeks, I hear my son instruct his son in matters of the sun,
moon and stars. He traces their courses in the sky and explains
that there are laws that govern their movement. Where has he
heard these things? From Yah?
From Yah, I decide. But it is not easy to hear most of what
they say. I am needed in the courtyard more than I am needed in
the fields. But Enoch is only 364-years-old. If he has decided to
share the knowledge of Yah with his family, I will have my
chance to hear it too.

Edna is at my door, weeping.
What is it? I ask, taking her arm. I feel sick with
apprehension at what could be the cause of this. Is it Lamech?
264
What has happened to him . . . ?
Thirteen years have passed since Lamech left us for the Great
Pyramid. Yet he sends regular messages via the traders that he is
doing well and increasing in knowledge everyday. It would be a
shame if the boy does not have a son to pass all this knowledge
onto. But he will not have a son if an accident has befallen him.
Edna shakes her head as I escort her into my sitting room and
ease her down on a cushioned wooden bench.
It is not Lamech, she manages to say between sobs. Her
voice is trembling.
Is it Methuselah? Ena?
Then what is it? I ask, sitting down beside her. It cannot
be . . . Enoch? My voice drops to a whisper. My son. My
precious son.
She nods.
My legs go weak. It is a good thing I am already seated. I have
not had this sensation of weakness since the time when we
witnessed the death of Tikvah.
He kissed me goodbye this morning, says Edna. I should
have known by that. Then she is silent.
I do not understand. But I do not want to speak. Jared kisses
me every morning before going out to chop wood. The only time
he does not is when we are going out together.
But then, of course, for a solid orbit of the earth around the
sun, Enoch has gone to Methuselah's settlement everyday. Why
should he choose to go somewhere else today?
Edna is staring at my brown walls. There is very little about
my walls to hold her attention.
Where did he go? I ask.
With Yah, she says, dully.
But he is always with Yah.
Now he will always be with Yah.
The subtlety of this reply is beyond me. What has changed?
The kiss was . . . different, says Edna. Perhaps you do not
understand this, Baraka, but when a man like Enoch shows extra
affection, it concerned me. I did something I never did before.
Now it is my turn to be silent.
I followed him, she continues. Right into the woods. I do
not think he was aware of my presence and I kept well behind.
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265
Did you see Yah? I ask, momentarily forgetting my fear and
breathless at the thought that Edna might have glimpsed the
Almighty One. Perhaps this is the cause of her tears! A vision so
terrifying and wonderful that mortals can hardly bear it!
Well, in a way, but I am not quite sure.
I am sorry. I should not have interrupted. I pat her hand to
encourage her to continue.
He passed through the forest and to the star map.
This is a surprise. The star map is too neglected to enjoy and I
never got the sense that Enoch thought it was of any value
anyway.
What did he do there? I ask.
He waited, says Edna. He stood in the shadow of the
largest pyramid for the longest time.
I ponder this quietly.
I waited too, says Edna.
What did you see? I ask.
Edna is quiet for so long that I almost think that she has sunk
into a stupor. At long last, when she replies, I can hardly believe
her.
I watched him disappear.
Disappear?
She nods.
You mean, you turned away and then he was gone?
No. He had been standing so still that I was startled to see
him raise his arms in the air. Then he was taken away.
Taken away? By whom? In horror, my mind turns to
marauders, violent men.
By Yah, I suppose.
This is not the answer I expect.
What do you mean, Edna?
He was gone, Edna sniffs. Up, I suppose, though it is hard
to say. It was blinding, a flash of light . . . And then she is
sobbing again. It takes me another fifteen minutes to determine
that when the light subsided, Edna looked for Enoch, more
looking for his body, expecting him to be dead from such an
experience, but found no sign that anything had happened on the
spot where he stood.
She is so weary from crying that I put her to bed in the room
266
that used to belong to Kalah. Sending her back to an empty
house is not an option. First, Jared and I must determine what
has happened to Enoch.
I make myself a cup of tea and wait for my husband.

Jared is stunned.
He came to me, he says, sitting down beside me and my cup
of cold tea. I think it was around the time of the last full
moon . . . He stops to think. Jared has a tendency to choose his
words and talk slowly. Usually I am patient. Not today.
Yes! Yes! And what? What did he say?
Something I did not understand, but praise to Yah, I do
remember. He said to me that Yah will come with innumerable
angels to execute judgement on all . . .
My eyes widen.
And something along the lines of, to convict the ones who
do not serve Yah of all their deeds of unrighteousness that they
have committed in such an unrighteous way and of all the harsh
things that unrighteous sinners have spoken against him.
My eyes widen.
Against Yah?
I do believe so, yes, says Jared. He said many things that
day. I had intended to discuss the matter further with him, but
now . . .
But it is not possible, I say. A man does not just disappear
into a flash of light . . .
Not all men are Enoch, says Jared.
That is so true.
But what was he trying to say to you?
I think he was warning me, perhaps. Telling me so I would
pass it on to the sons of Seth.
Then he knew, I say, staring into my cup. He must have
known. No wonder he was concerned about Lamech taking a
wife.
I would still like to go to the star map, says Jared, standing
up. Neither of us is thinking about an evening meal. Edna is still
upstairs sleeping.
Though the sun is low, we get to the star map in time to
confirm Edna's story, at least the part of it that there is no
indication that anything unusual has happened here.
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When we return to the house, I go upstairs to Edna's room.
She has left! I say, hurrying back downstairs. Jared is
drinking water from the well in the courtyard.
She probably went to her house, he says.
Knowing Edna, I think it is more likely she went to
Methuselah, I say. Edna would seek consolation in her son.
That would be a foolish thing to do, says Jared. I know what
he means. The night animals are bad enough, but the marauders
who travel along the river edge often stray into the forests at
night. Hungry, they look for food . . . and anyone unfortunate
enough to be in the woods.
We should make sure she has not come to harm, I say.
I imagine she is beyond caring.
I am halfway to the door.
Should Methuselah lose a father and a mother in the same
day? I demand over my shoulder.
He acknowledges this and follows me.
Should we bring one of Rasujal's beasts? he asks, as we
hurry across our settlement.
I shake my head.
Surely it is better to die at the hands of men than by the
claws of a beast.
My reply makes him smile.
First, we stop off at Enoch's house. Edna does not answer the
door and we are emboldened to enter the house. A quick tour
tells us she is not there.
Yah be with us, I murmur, almost to myself, as we enter the
dark forest.
Jared agrees, taking my hand.
The moon is only a sliver and in the forest it would hardly
help if it were full.
My ears strain for sounds the growl of an animal, the songs
of drunken men, the cry of a woman calling for help. But the
forest is quiet.
We stay on the familiar path. Our feet break twigs and leaves
crunch.
Then I hear a low rumble.
It is nothing, says Jared. Only a bear. Kenaz says they have
become more common here.
Only a bear? I do not agree with his assessment. A bear is
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something to be concerned about. But Jared is right. The bear
does not approach.
Next is a snarl.
Wolves, says Jared. Now I hear concern in his voice. He
breaks off some branches from a nearby tree.
I hear the snarl again. It might be two animals. Or more.
Now I wish I had not been so flippant about bringing along a
dragon. Rasujal boasts to potential buyers that his dragons
consider wolves to be a light snack.
I think we are surrounded, Jared murmurs, handing me one
of the branches. Now I see the eyes of the wolves and realize to
my terror that he is right.
I do not know what to say, what direction to face. Perhaps
Edna's mauled body is lying nearby and we are to be the next
meal.
And despite my prayer, doubt fills my mind. If Enoch is gone,
perhaps Yah is too. Perhaps Yah took the only man he could talk
to and the rest of us will be left to judgement . . . and death.
But then I remember Enoch's sense of urgency. Lamech must
have a wife. Which means Lamech must have a child! Surely Yah
has not abandoned us if the line of Seth must continue!
With bravery I have not felt since the day I set out from
Enoch, I grip my branch and say, Let them come!
The comment makes Jared laugh. It was spoken from the
heart, but I see now how it must have come across. Baraka ready
to fight off the surrounding wolves. I laugh and that makes Jared
laugh harder and soon we are so weak from laughing that I do
not think we could hold our branches tight enough to fight off
one wolf, never mind the whole pack.
My eyes are adjusted to the darkness and I see the wolves turn
and amble away.
What happened? I ask, when I have recovered. The laugh
was as much nervous energy as it was genuine amusement.
No fear, says Jared, simply. They no longer sensed we were
afraid and therefore we were not worth preying upon.
I take a deep breath and we continue walking. But neither of
us tosses away our stick.
When we arrive at Methuselah's settlement, all is quiet. We go
straight to Methuselah and Ena's house and knock. After a few
minutes, Methuselah answers. He is startled to see us and within
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seconds we learn that Edna is not here.
But why would she come here? he asks, leading us into the
dim home. An oil lamp has accompanied him and provides
enough light for the three of us to see each other. And what
would bring you out to us this late at night?
Ena, hearing the voices, comes down the stairs with another
lamp.
And so it is our sad responsibility to tell Methuselah what his
mother has seen today.
His eyes widen. Ena clings to his arm. We all end up sitting on
their linen cushions while Methuselah and Ena adjust to this
news.
It is awful for Mother, yes, he says, slowly. But I cannot
help but think that it is wonderful for Father.
This thought had not occurred to me. But it is true. And how
true! Enoch has been taken by Yah! Such a thing has never
happened to any man, not even Father Adam. Perhaps it will
never happen again.
I must go to her, says Methuselah, standing up. She should
not be alone.
Ena looks fearful at the thought of him traveling the woods at
night.
If she is not here, she is back in the settlement, says Jared
calmly. We will wait until morning and return then.
Since he is the patriarch, Methuselah defers to him.
We settle down for the night and sleep well despite the
unusual circumstances. The morning comes and the settlement
awakens. Methuselah is up early, eager to go even before the
morning meal. He embraces Ena with an admonition not to
worry and to carry on as usual until he returns.
She nods, tearfully.
Please bring her back here, she says.
I will, promises Methuselah.
The walk through the forest is less threatening in daylight, but
I am bracing myself for the discovery of Edna's body in the
woods. Jared was right to wait until morning. If she is here
somewhere, we would not see her in the dark.
But there is no Edna.
When we get back to the settlement, Rasujal is feeding live
chickens to his dragons. Edna is still not in her home.
270
We divide up to look for her. Jared goes to see if she returned
to our home. Methuselah goes to Pyramides's house. I go up the
steps to Nava's house.
Much to my surprise, Edna is sleeping on a plush sofa in one
of Nava's sitting rooms.
She came to me last night, explains Nava. I did not
understand her story. Something about Enoch disappearing.
Nava sighs heavily. Men, she says in disgust. No consideration
for women. I gave her some of my berry wine. It always helps me
when I am miserable. She drank the whole jug. Nava shakes her
head as she looks down at the sleeping Edna. She is not used to
it.
I sit down and stroke Edna's forehead.
Dear Edna, I say.
She groans and shifts on the sofa.
Ohhh! My head!
Methuselah is here, I whisper.
He must not see me like this, she moans.
You look fine, dear, says Nava. You just do not feel fine.
I nod.
I help her to her feet. Nava runs a brush through her hair and
pins it up for her. I fetch her a jug of water since she is thirsty.
Then we all go over to my house.
Rasujal has told the men that Edna is resting in his house, so
Jared and Methuselah are no longer worried and are waiting for
me and Edna at home.
Edna manages a weak smile for her son and he embraces her.
Mother.
She clings to him.
Your father, she says.
I know, I know, he says, holding onto her. It is not easy for
us. But I will take care of you. Ena and I will be your family
now.
Nava is watching this and I am sure she is left with the
impression that Enoch has left Edna, not as an act of Yah, but as
a faithless man.
I prepare us all a meal and then we return to Edna's house to
pack up all her belongings. She is surprisingly resilient now that a
mug of coffee has cleared her head. Edna has not acquired much
more than two baskets worth of clothing and personal items, so
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it is no burden for Methuselah to carry his mother's possessions
on his back. She has little interest in the furniture and larger items
but murmurs that perhaps they will be useful when Lamech takes
a wife.
We all nod and Jared and I walk with them to the edge of the
settlement where the forest begins. With a kiss on both of my
cheeks, Edna says goodbye. I promise her that we will come to
visit her soon. She nods. And then they disappear into the forest.
We walk slowly back to our home.
And that is when it fully sinks in that I am not going to see my
son again. My son! Enoch! No mother has ever had such a son!
And my heart feels like it is breaking . . . again. I start to cry. It is
a low moan that turns into a wail. Jared is practically carrying me
up the steps and into our house.
Oh my son! I am sobbing. There are tears in Jared's eyes
too. He gently puts me down on one of our chairs and then
walks away, to look out a window with unseeing eyes. Enoch was
both of ours, but as it is with all grief for the children of Adam,
we mourn alone.

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Chapter Thirty
t was his final desire that you be married, I say to Lamech.
He nods gravely.
Great-grandfather has told me, he says. And I will
honour my grandfather's wishes.
Lamech is now a mature man. Having studied at the Great
Pyramid, he has returned home to catch up on over fifty years of
family history. Edna has given him her former home, preferring
to continue to live with Methuselah.
He is one of the few people who know the true story of
Enoch's disappearance. Lamech has been spending time with
Jared and they have pondered Enoch's final words to his father, a
seeming message from Yah to the sons of Seth. Knowing the
skills of a scribe, Lamech has recorded it on animal skin.
Furthermore, when going through Edna's house, Lamech found
some more writings in the hand of Enoch. He may have been
silent about his talks with Yah, but it would seem that he
recorded many of his experiences.
They are incredible, Jared says to me one evening as we are
in our bedroom. He and Lamech have been reading them
together all day. If they are to be believed, our son has seen the
I
274
very heavens themselves!
Why should they not be believed? I say, sitting down on the
bed.
Only in that they are fantastical. But some parts explain great
mysteries. Enoch talks of beings in heaven called angels and
angels who have taken women as their wives . . .
He pauses to look at me for a reaction.
Semjaza, I whisper.
Jared nods.
It is something we long suspected, is it not? Enoch has seen
the ends of heaven, a place of darkness and pillars of fire
reserved for the angels who took wives from among the
daughters of men.
He climbs into bed and pulls the cotton sheet over himself.
The giants are their children, he adds.
We knew that, I say, stretching beside him.
Well, yes, says Jared. But it is something he dwells upon. I
do not think the end will be good for them. But it will be worse
for the children of men.
I do not like the sound of this.
Father Seth must read these writings, I say.
Jared agrees.
Lamech is making a copy for the Great Pyramid. It can be
studied more there. He glances over at me. And then he can
take a wife.
I would like to read these writings too, I say.
Of course, says Jared, yawning.
And so, the next day, I am with them around our large table.
The writings contain answers to questions I was never able to
ask my son. My son did not just take simple walks with Yah in the
forest. He was swept up into Yah's heavens, to walk crystal fields
of fire, to see stars bound up for their disobedience, to talk with
angels who watch over the people of Yah - such things that we
never knew of on earth.
And he saw the fiery prison reserved for the fallen angels. My
heart is chilled by the fate that awaits Semjaza and his brothers.
What pleasures could they gain here on earth that could possibly
make it worth enduring this fiery bondage?
Enoch also enlightens me about the nature of Semjaza's
relationship with the children of Adam. I left before I could learn
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of his dark skills. I did not know that he has been teaching them
charms and enchantments.
No wonder Enoch did not speak. Who would have
understood? Who would have believed him?
And Jared is right.
The giants, though benign in our area, have turned violent
elsewhere. We have heard isolated reports, but Enoch's writings
tell us that they consume the acquisitions of men and when men
can no longer sustain them, they turn against them and devour
the men themselves.
Is this to be taken literally? I ask Lamech, who has, after all,
studied and heard more from the traders than I have recently.
I am afraid that it is, he says. The traders have always been
afraid of the giants, but there are rumours that men disappear
and no one hears of them again.
They devour like beasts? I ask, in disbelief.
I believe so, says Lamech. Though please do not worry,
dear Mother. We now know we have unseen angels that guard us
against the evil ones.
I nod, hardly knowing what to say. On one hand, the news of
the earth is disturbing and terrifying, even more so now that we
understand the darkness behind it. But Enoch has seen the Glory
of Yah, a magnificence, he says, that no mortal could look upon.
Yah was surrounded by a fire that made him unapproachable. He
was accompanied by innumerable angels that never left him. Is it
possible that my forest pulsated with the life of heavenly armies
every time I had a sense of Yah's presence?
It would seem they eat the flesh of animals too, Jared says,
his eyes on the writings, bringing me back to earth.
Yes, says Lamech nodding. Father was often able to sell his
surplus livestock to the traders. I did not believe the stories at the
time, but it was said that the traders freely gave the giants animals
as a way to appease their blood-lust and thus save themselves.
I think of the gentle giantess living in our settlement and her
children working at Methuselah's settlement. Surely, when
mingled with the blood of Seth, some of these offspring of
fallen angels have become no more than giant men?
Jared points to another passage.
It would seem that the very serpent who deceived Hawwa
lives among the fallen ones, this one known as Azazel who
276
teaches them the ways of war.
Lamech nods.
They are perhaps the same being, he agrees.
I am deeply saddened to read that Azazel teaches the men to
make swords and shields and breastplates of metal for war. Surely
then, my brother Tubal-Cain must work with him.
Azazel's other interest is to teach women how to ornament
themselves with metals, as well as how to paint their eyes and
their hair. My sister Naamah, no doubt, has been taught by him
as well. Finally, he teaches them how to beautify themselves with
costly stones. I think back to the first day when Semjaza came
into Tubal-Cain's store with his mysterious stones. We did not
know what evil we were welcoming that day.
My son, who never discussed Semjaza or my days in Enoch,
records that Yah asked him to deliver a message to Azazel and his
brothers and my son obeyed.
I am startled, to say the least.
Enoch, transported in some way by Yah, actually met with
Azazel to deliver a heavenly message. The message was that since
they had brought such destruction to the earth, they too would
watch the destruction of their children. They would have no
peace, nor forgiveness, though they plead for mercy for eternity.
All my thoughts of peaceful walks with Yah have been
shattered. My son, delivering messages to these fallen ones! And
the reply of the fallen ones was that they wanted Enoch to
represent them and beg Yah for mercy! And though Enoch
created a petition for the weeping fallen ones, he could assure
them that Yah would not receive it.
In fact, later Enoch was taken to see the very chains prepared
for Azazel and his brothers, the ones that will bind them in their
fiery imprisonment. He met the four angels who will bind these
fallen ones.
This is the first day that I do not make a meal for the men in
my home. I am so intent on reading my son's writings that I do
not eat. Jared makes some tea for him and Lamech, but they too
have little appetite.
But we are finished reading by the end of the day and
Lamech, who is staying in Edna's house, gathers up the writings
and says that he will continue to copy them there. Little do we
realize that the writings of Enoch are not yet complete.
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Now I understand why Enoch named Methuselah as he did,
I say, over the morning meal the next day.
Jared nods. Judgement was a large portion of Enoch's
writings. Yah revealed to him that there would be a deluge of
some sort.
I think I understand it better now, I say. I am not cheerful
this morning. The words of Enoch, or more accurately, the
words of Yah, have settled in my mind. There is a place of
holding for the dead. From there, the spirit of Abel cries out and
Yah has promised that the seed of Cain will be destroyed in
judgement. Had I grown up among the sons of Seth, I would not
have understood this loss. And yet, in all fairness, I mourn only
three people - my adopted mother, adopted brother and adopted
sister. I do not mourn their offspring, for they have gone the
ways of men and giants.
What I do not understand, Jared says, is why Hawwa did
not choose the Tree of Life.
I sigh with agreement.
It seems Enoch was transported to visit the Tree of Life.
Hawwas choice seems particularly tragic when we read Enoch's
report that the Tree of Life was beautiful and fragrant, unlike any
other, its blooms delightful in appearance. Just reading about it,
my heart longs to be near Yah!
Yet an angel tells Enoch that the Tree of Life will be eaten, by
the righteous, at the time of judgement. But I question whether it
is the judgement at the end of Methuselah's life, for this one is a
consummation of all things and a time when there is a temple to
Yah. Such a word, temple, has never been spoken among us,
though I gather it is to be a place of worship for the righteous.
But from the sounds of it, I say, The Tree of Wisdom was
attractive too. On a different occasion, Enoch visited the Tree
of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden. By a
curiosity, it sounds very much like the tree that is now on Father
Adam and Hawwa's grave.
There is a knock at the door.
Not surprisingly, it is Lamech. The document is safe in Edna's
home, but he is red-eyed from reading it over again in the night.
I decide that this is a good time to make a pot of coffee.
I could not stop myself, he says to Jared while I am in the
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courtyard boiling the water. In all my years of studying at the
Great Pyramid, we never knew the things that Enoch had seen.
I still cannot believe that my son witnessed the heavens,
Jared agrees.
He speaks of the secrets of lightning and thunder, says
Lamech, waving his arms. He has seen the chambers that hold
the wind and clouds and hail.
Jared nods as I come back into the room.
And the chambers that hold the sun and moon, he says.
He learnt the secrets of their orbit, Lamech says, shaking his
head. He has listened to Yah call the stars by name. Has any
man ever been so blessed?
No wonder he had no interest in a star map, I murmur.
As soon as I am finished copying the manuscript for the
Great Pyramid I must take it to my father, says Lamech. My
grandmother did not read these writings so she did not know that
they were intended for him.
We nod.
Enoch says at the end of his writings that these were written
down for his son, Methuselah, and for all who were to come after
him who remembered the ways of Yah.
Though we came to the end of Enoch's writings late into the
night, I still recall his final words. They are a warning. Yah loves
those who do not love gold or silver. Yah loves those who do not
love food but regard their lives as a passing breath. Yah tries
them and their spirits are found pure so that they continue to
bless the name of Yah. They love heaven more than their life on
earth and though they are trodden under the feet of wicked men
being abused, reviled and put to shame they continue to bless
the name of Yah. They will be honoured by Yah for days without
number.
I cannot pretend that this is an easy understanding of Yah.
While I once longed for a whisper from him, now he shouts to
me in the writings of my son.
Over many mugs of coffee, we drink and discuss the world we
live in, particularly now that we know there have been events
occurring that we were not aware of, that no other child of Adam
is aware of.
It is troubling, I say. I am still thinking of the final words
that admonish those who love Yah not to love their lives.
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Yet Grandfather wrote that our spirits should not be
troubled because of the times, says Lamech, squeezing my hand.
He is a good boy. I smile.
Sin shall perish in darkness forever, agrees Jared, also
quoting Enoch.
But despite these great truths, life goes on. After Lamech
leaves, Jared and I must go down to the river to wave down the
traders. We have a surplus of vegetables to trade and I need a
small iron pot.
While waiting by the river with our baskets of spinach and
tomatoes and potatoes, we talk about Enoch.
Jared admits he was always a bit jealous of Enoch's walk with
Yah.
Yet, I have to say now, I do not know if I would have wanted
to confront fallen angels. To take such marvellous journeys
through the heavens, perhaps . . .
The first boat that comes along is full of traders willing to
take our vegetables in exchange for a small pot. The man also
tries to interest me in some new items, strange little statues of the
female figure. I have never seen anything like them.
They are made of the wood of the very fir tree that grows
over Mother Hawwa's head, says the trader.
Jared's jaw drops.
But what on earth are they for? I ask.
Fertility, says the trader. You will have no concerns with
one of these, he says, stroking it and then handing it to me. I
sell so many to women along the way and they all say they are
bearing children for their husbands . . .
I do not want to roll my eyes in front of him. I hand the
statue back to him.
Is it possible they desecrate the very tree that grows over
Hawwa's grave? asks Jared, shaking his head, as we return to our
settlement with our pot.
I doubt it, I say. The fir tree is found elsewhere. They
know very few people travel as far as Hawwa's grave. They can
say what they like.
True, says Jared. They would certainly run out of wood if
they could only take it from the one tree. But such foolishness.
His sigh is heavy. Fertility because of a piece of wood.

280
But it works! Chaya is insisting.
Today, all the sons of Seth in the area have come to our
settlement to celebrate the wedding of Lamech. Lamech, and his
soon-to-be wife, Betenos, will live in Edna and Enoch's former
home, so our settlement was chosen to host the wedding.
Lamech has decided that his wedding will be held at the star
map. He and Jared have spent months, nearly a year, in fact,
clearing it of its weeds and repairing broken stones.
Betenos, a descendant of Sofer who Lamech met when he
was studying at the Great Pyramid, is a strong woman but with a
gentle disposition. She will be loved and welcomed to our
settlement.
Chaya is talking to me in the courtyard, proud of her huge
belly. She will be giving birth any day now. It is the fertility
statues sold to me by the traders, she says. I bought several
from them and that very night I conceived.
I shrug. Who can argue with such logic? And I am too busy to
argue. I have about five hundred people to feed. People have
come from as far as the Great Pyramid to celebrate this day. Our
settlement is filled with temporary shelters.
He is certainly old enough, says Chaya, groaning and
holding her back.
I know what she is saying. Lamech recently turned 181.
I have given the bride one of my statues, Chaya continues.
I do not say anything. Hopefully Betenos will have the good
sense to burn it. She is a sensible girl and knowledgeable in the
ways of Yah, having studied in the Great Temple. She, too, has
read the manuscript left behind by Enoch and has had many
eager discussions with Jared and Lamech about its contents.
Very few of the cousins know about Enoch's disappearance.
Most believe him to be dead, although some speculate that he has
left Edna for a more attractive woman. I am annoyed on her
behalf, but she is so busy helping Betenos prepare her dress for
the following evening that I do not think she hears any of it.
But Jared and Methuselah and Lamech all agree that the
patriarchs of the settlements should be told about Enoch's
manuscript. So the evening before the wedding, they all gather in
our sitting room to read it together. I serve tea and listen in from
the courtyard.
When they are finished reading it, the older men are quiet,
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looking at one other. This is as surprising to them as it was to us
when we first heard these words.
But Mahalalel has some startling news for us.
It makes sense to me, he says thoughtfully. He was young
when he started having these visions.
What do you know of it? Jared asks, curious.
Before he was married, as you know, he came to our
settlement.
We all nod. Ena is from Mahalalel's settlement.
I join the men in the sitting room. I want to hear this.
He was sleeping in my house, in my room in fact, Mahalalel
says. My wife was with Chaya, for some reason or another.
Chaya always seems to need her mother. In any case, I was
startled to hear Enoch cry out in his sleep and in concern, I woke
him up. I asked him why he was crying out and making such a
lamentation.
I lean forward.
He confided in me, Mahalalel continues. He had seen a
vision. Heaven collapsed, was borne off and fell to the earth.
And when it fell to the earth, earth was swallowed up in a great
abyss. Mountains were suspended on mountains.
Eyes are wide.
Hills sank down on hills. High trees were rent from their
stems and hurled down and sunk in the abyss. Mahalalel looks at
everyone as he speaks. What he had called out was, the earth is
destroyed!
Now Mahalalel looks down at his hands. I said to him, you
have seen a terrible thing, my son. If it is so, let it be so. But I
said to him, my son, arise and make a petition to Yah, the
Glorious One, since you are a believer, that a remnant may
remain on the earth and that He may not destroy the whole. I
said to him that I believed his vision, that such destruction would
come on the earth . . .
There is murmuring among Seth, Enosh, and Cainan.
As I recall, says Mahalalel glancing at Jared, Enoch did arise
and pray and implore Yah for a remnant to be saved. I could
hardly sleep, but I was still in my bed and heard his words. He
was a remarkable man. After such a vision . . . Mahalalel shakes
his head. He prayed all night and when the moon and stars set
in the west and the sun awoke the earth in the east, he greeted it
282
by praising Yah. He praised and blessed the Master of Judgement
and sang praises to him because he had made the sun to go forth
from the windows of the east and to ascend to the face of
heaven and continue to traverse the path shown unto it.
What beautiful thoughts resided in my son! Mahalalel
continues.
I was still in my bed and I heard his praises continue. He
praised Yah as Master and King, Creator of heaven and earth. He
praised him for his power and greatness and his dominion over
all generations, now and forever. The heavens are his throne, the
earth his footstool.
We are all silent.
I admit, I am ashamed, says Enosh, breaking the silence.
Would I have praised Yah after such a vision?
Why did it not bother him that Yah would destroy everything
he had made? asks Cainan.
I believe it was because he praised Yah for having made
everything, says Mahalalel, who has had many years now to
ponder these things. He saw Yah as ruler over everything and
therefore, worthy to judge everything.
Mahalalel leans forward.
We have forgotten Yah, but Enoch never did. And Yah never
forgot us. Enoch said in his prayers that day that Yah knows
everything, sees everything, hears everything. Nothing is hidden
from Yah. So Enoch knew that judgement was fair for the sons
of Adam. He knew Yah was angry. He did not ask for judgement
to be averted, only that a remnant survive and that such a
remnant would come from his own flesh.
Mahalalel buries his face in his hands and groans before
looking up again.
He spoke many words that day to Yah. He prayed that the
earth would not be eternally destroyed, nor that it would be
without inhabitants. He accepted God's judgement as just but
begged Yah that uprightness be established as a plant of the
eternal seed . . .
What did he mean by that? Seth asks.
I do not know, says Mahalalel.
It is clear that Enoch knew the secrets of Yah, says Cainan.
The men exchange uneasy glances. Every man in this room
knows that Enoch walked with Yah and each cannot help but
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measure himself by this knowledge. And find that he fell short
of such honour.

284

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ather Seth is now gone.
Mourning consumes the sons of Seth and our
settlements are united in grief. To grow old is to watch
those ahead of you die. Each generation watches uneasily as the
generation ahead of it slowly passes away. It is inevitable and
unescapable.
But joy comes to our particular settlement when a tiny son of
Seth is born to Lamech and Betenos.
Chaya is exuberant.
I told you, the goddess works!
I am visiting her and her new son, an energetic boy, rosy with
activity. Rasujal had some business to do in the settlement of
Mahalalel and I go along with him to deliver the wonderful news
that there is a new son of Seth.
What is this goddess you speak of ? I ask, holding her son
on my lap. He is sleeping at the moment, otherwise I would have
a hard time containing him. I am sitting in her courtyard and the
boy has a firm grip on my finger. He has brought great joy to
Chaya, both for his own qualities and for the praises she has
received from her husband for giving him another son.
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It is the way, says Chaya simply. The way for women.
I do not understand, I say.
Oh Baraka, she says impatiently. She is preparing us some
cocoa to drink and is moving quickly around as she assembles the
ingredients of the beverage. You never know what is going on
in the world.
That is true, I admit.
All women, except for you apparently, follow the way of the
goddess. You are the only one who does not have a fertility icon.
I do not tell her that Betenos destroyed the one given to her
by Chaya at the time of her wedding.
But who is the goddess? I ask.
Mother Hawwa, of course, Chaya says, impatiently, turning
back to me with two mugs of steaming cocoa. Carefully, I put her
son in his playpen and then take one of the mugs.
But Hawwa is dead, I say.
She lives on in her icons, says Chaya, sounding quite assured
about it.
I do not feel like arguing that this sounds impossible to me. So
the conversation turns to Edna.
Has Jared found her another husband yet? asks Chaya.
No, I say. She is not interested in such things. She has
Lamech and Betenos, and now Noah, to look after. I am seeing
more of Edna now that we have a baby in the settlement.
She should have her own children, says Chaya. She is not
too old. The goddess could help her.
Once again, I do not feel like commenting on this.
So we discuss the name Noah, the name given to his son by
Lamech.
What does it mean? Chaya asks.
Peaceful, I say.
Chaya makes a face.
What a strange name, she says. Her son's name is Mordecai,
which means Warrior. Nowadays, people give their sons strong
names in the hope of intimidating their future enemies. By
contrast, naming a child Noah seems to doom him to ridicule.
But the name gives me hope. Perhaps it will be a peaceful life for
my great-great grandson. Since the judgement spoken of by
Enoch is to occur at the end of Methuselah's life, it would seem
that this new child, Noah, will live to see a new world, a world of
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peace. I think he is a comfort to us all. In fact, his father, when he
first held him said, This one will comfort me for all my trouble
and work, and for the ground which Yah has cursed.
But one does not discuss such things with Chaya.
Even the walk back with Rasujal is not one of two minds
meeting in understanding. With him, I also discuss the mundane
the news of Mahalalel's settlement I picked up from Chaya,
while he tells me of his business negotiations. He is aware that
his brother left behind some kind of manuscript but has no
desire to study it. Nor, it would seem, did Enoch expect that he
would. The manuscript is addressed to Methuselah and the
admonition is to pass it on, presumably to his son.
We live in a world where brothers kill brothers. I suppose I
should be grateful that my sons live in peace - if not in harmony,
then at least in mutual respect.
Rasujal is in a hurry to get home so we part as soon as we
reach the settlement. I am looking forward to an evening in my
room. Knowing that I was to be gone the whole day, Jared will
have already had a meal, perhaps with Edna, Lamech and
Betenos.
Havilah!
No one in our settlement calls me by that name.
I turn to see Semjaza.
I never thought I would see him again. Something about
Tikvah's death made me think that we had paid the highest price
to be left alone by these fallen ones.
You are not welcome here, I say, terror beginning to swell in
my heart. But I take a deep breath and think of my son, who
while still living, confronted these beings.
I did not expect to be, he says.
I know your ways, I say. My son . . .
I am well familiar with your son, he interrupts. He refused
to intercede for us . . .
I know, I say sharply. I am about to tell him that it is a right
and just decision.
So I come to you, he says simply. I detect something I have
never heard in his voice before, humility.
We are condemned. He is not looking at me, but slightly
down.
Or is it false humility?
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Our children will fight one another until they destroy one
another. Oh Havilah! Now he looks at me. Would you want
that to be your condemnation?
I did not introduce enchantment and sorcery into the world,
I reply.
For a moment, I see his eyes flash with anger and I am afraid.
Oh Yah, I whisper. You are everywhere . . .
Then his voice changes, soft as silk, sweet as honey.
You are the one woman I trust, he says, sounding genuine.
And perhaps it is true. I come to you as my only hope. Havilah,
think of my children.
Naamah's children, I cannot help but point out. That is a
mistake.
Yes! he says. Naamah's children. Think of your dear sister!
She suffers as I do . . .
She suffers because of you! I burst out, looking around.
Where is everyone in my settlement? It is always quiet, but today
everyone is either in their own home or over at Lamech's.
His eyes grow dark.
There is only Yah. Jared is nowhere to help when needed.
Semjaza moves closer to me.
Will you help, Havilah? he says. His voice is still smooth, but
I detect a threat in the question.
No, I will not, I say, knowing this may be the death of me.
And for one moment, I do not care. The world is violent. I have
played a part in its violence. By running from Semjaza, I brought
violence to the house of Lamech. By bringing Rasujal into the
world, I have been responsible for dragons ripping men to
shreds.
I feel his hand, just one hand, go around my neck . . . and
squeeze.
Oh Yah! is all I gasp. I feel close to losing all consciousness
when I see Semjaza wince with pain. His hand loosens and he
groans.
I am gasping for breath, but I am not so dazed as to miss that
Semjaza twists around and pulls an arrow right out of his back.
With a glance at me - I almost see amusement in his eyes - he
turns and walks away.
I collapse.
What manner of man was that? Kenaz, brother of Jared and
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Chaya, helps me to my feet.
Kenaz! I stumble, but he has a firm grip on my arm. What
are you doing here? He has emerged from the woods, his quiver
of arrows on his back, his bow in his hand.
Your fool of a son left the settlement before talking to me. I
come to impose on your hospitality and spend the night so I can
speak to him.
It will be no imposition, I say, still weak. We are now
heading for Jareds house and mine.
Again Kenaz asks, What manner of man was that? He looks
back into the forest where Semjaza has disappeared.
One of the fallen ones, I say. The father of giants.
You can kill a giant, says Kenaz. He is still looking at the
spot where we last saw Semjaza. I do not think that one is so
easily killed.
I think of the place of darkness Enoch wrote about and the
chains reserved for Semjaza and his brothers.
No, I agree. They are not easily destroyed.
Kenaz shakes his head and we go up the stairs into my house.
Jared is resting in our sitting room, oblivious of the whole
drama that has occurred within an arrow's throw from our home.
Kenaz is quick to dispel his ignorance.
Jared is outraged that Semjaza should come here again and has
to sit down when Kenaz gets to the part of glimpsing me being
strangled by the fallen one.
And the worst part of it is, Kenaz concludes. I do not
think I could have killed him, had I wanted to. He left by choice.
Oh Yah! Yah! Jared is murmuring. His face is in his hands.
It is all my fault. I am sure of it.
I am about to tell him that it is an unavoidable result of me
having lived among the children of Cain, but then I realize, this
visit was different. Semjaza visited me this time because I am the
mother of Enoch and a daughter of Seth.
So perhaps Jared has reason to feel he should have been more
diligent to protect me from the fallen ones.
I have recovered enough to make the two men a light meal.
Kenaz eats with the appetite of a hunter and the resilience of a
man who can face a beast and be philosophical when the beast
almost gets the best of him. Jared, on the other hand, hardly
touches the lentil soup and bread. Then I show Kenaz to one of
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the bedrooms.
He thanks me with true graciousness and warns me to be on
my guard and not to travel alone. The fallen one may still be in
our area. I nod and thank him for saving my life today.
Baraka, I believe it was Yah who saved your life today, he
says with a grin before wishing me a good night.

It is Rasujal who delivers the shocking news.
Uncle Kenaz has been found dead! he gasps for breath,
practically falling into our courtyard. Jared and I look up, startled.
We are making a large batch of sweetened fruit to have
something on hand to trade with when necessary.
What do you mean? asks Jared, slowly lowering the pot to
the ground before turning to face his son.
Rasujal nods.
I did not see him, he says. I went back today with a dragon
and did not see him . . .
He is not making any sense. Quickly, I push a chair over so he
can sit. Rasujal is pale and shaken. Yesterday, Kenaz left us to
return to his settlement. How can he be dead? A terrifying
thought occurs to me. I remember his last words to me. Yah
saved my life, but the fallen one may still be in our area . . .
My head is spinning and I, too, need to sit down.
His wife was worried, naturally, Rasujal continues, no longer
out-of-breath, but not entirely coherent. As they all are. But we
all told her not to fear. He must be out hunting. I returned home,
the same way, but saw nothing. But the wife must have persisted
because they sent out a party to look for him in the forest and
they found him . . .
Oh Yah! I moan. I am trembling. This is all because of me.
Strangled, says Rasujal. Not an animal. He is bewildered.
Who would do such a thing? He had no coins, no stones,
nothing of value on him. Even his bow and arrows were left
behind. Rasujal is shaking his head. He looks dazed. If this were
a distant cousin, it would not be so tragic. But Kenaz is an uncle,
and a close friend to all of us. A congenial man. I remember the
first day I glimpsed him in the woods and found myself among
the sons of Seth. How could it end this way?
Although, says Rasujal. Whoever did this thing, for
whatever reason, took one of Kenaz's own arrows and stuck it in
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his back. Again, Rasujal is shaking his head. What manner of
person does such a thing?
I am moaning, almost unable to bear it. I cannot stop rocking
back and forth and weeping. As I sink and fall off to the ground,
Jared catches me and I remember nothing after that.

Only Jared knows why I continue to mourn for a man who is
neither my husband nor son. I did not weep like this when
Enoch was taken and I was strong when Tikvah was lost to us.
But that a man who showed me kindness should have to pay for
it with his life is beyond my ability to endure.
I weep all day and then am sick at night because of all the
weeping.
Edna brings me over vegetable soup and I only eat to please
her and Jared. Jared is concerned but he does not order me back
to my senses, and for that I am grateful. This despair must run its
course. I cannot hold it in. It will kill me if I cannot weep until I
am empty of tears and ready to live again.
The rest of the settlement is bewildered. They too mourn
Kenaz. All of the sons of Seth mourn him. He is Jared's own
brother and Jared spends weeks in a mood of sadness. We all feel
the loss. But that the loss should be on my account is the load I
carry.
Jared does not blame me. He blames himself. He blames
Rasujal for not bringing me safely home but he never says a word
to his son. We are the only two people who know who murdered
Kenaz.
I must confess, there was a flicker of pity in me when I first
heard of the place of darkness and chains reserved for Semjaza
and his brothers. But now that flicker is gone and is replaced by
hatred and a longing to see the beasts chained up sooner, rather
than later.
But after weeks of lying in my bed in darkness and having
time to think of Enoch and what I know of Yah, I do not want
that hatred to live inside of me. Yah is just. Yah is good. Kenaz
was a child of Seth, but he was not a child of Yah. Did not Chaya
say his wife had bruises on her arms too? And even if the
righteous should perish, Abel's blood cried from the earth and
nothing but justice silenced it.
After two full moons, I am able to get up again and return to
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the mundane tasks of living. But Jared and I are once again
united in sorrow. It is not a bad thing. He is the only other living
person to know the evil that has reached our settlement. We have
shared the loss of a daughter and then the loss of a son. Now we
share the loss of the sense that we are untouched by the violence
that torments the sons of Cain.

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Chapter Thirty Two
he young child is precocious. Or maybe it is just his
attentive father and mother. Lamech and Betenos pour
themselves into their son, Noah.
Lamech has all his years of study at the Great Pyramid to pass
onto his son.
I think, in a way, we all look at Noah with hope and try to pass
on the best part of ourselves to him. I teach him what I can
about gardening and edible plants in the forest. Jared shows him
how to construct furniture out of wood. Edna dresses him like a
prince.
There are also frequent visits to Methuselah's settlement
where Methuselah and Ena dote on their grandson.
Despite our attention, he is a modest child.
Jared, Methuselah and Lamech always include him when they
are discussing matters of Yah. He is well familiar with the
writings of his great-grandfather.
When he is fifty, Jared brings up the topic of a wife for Noah.
But his father shakes his head and says, Not now. Not now.
Uncharacteristically, Jared loses his temper.
Not now! Not now! If not now, when? Why does everyone
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seem to have secret information that they do not share with me?
If there is something you know, by all means, disclose it! He is
gesturing wildly.
I stifle a laugh. The four men are sitting around my large table.
I have never seen my husband become this emotional.
Does Yah speak only to you and never to me? Jared
continues. Am I not also a son of Seth and . . .
My husband abruptly runs out of words, and anger. We are all
smiling.
I have no special message from Yah on the matter, says
Lamech. I only know that the woman for Noah must be special
and I have never met her.
Noah nods shyly.
It is a valid point. The daughters of Seth are swept up in the
enchantments that have been brought into the world by Semjaza
and his brothers. Their eyes are painted and they are given over
to the worship of the goddess, as they now call Hawwa.
I have a special girl in mind, though. But she is young. A mere
child, really. Her name is Emzara and her father is Rakeel. They
are a quiet family who live in Methuselah's settlement, children of
Seth, of course. The mother is one of Ena's weavers and Rakeel
helps in the fields. Little Emzara is a sweet child who I often
encounter in Ena's courtyard. She is curious about everything
how to make coffee, how to make pink dye, how to feed a goat,
how to embroider linen, how to make a mug . . . I enjoy her lively
questions.
But I know better than to suggest anyone at this point. I think
Lamech does not want a wife for his son yet and if it is to be
Emzara, she must grow to adulthood first.
So Noah turns his attention to raising animals. It is a
knowledge passed onto him from Methuselah who still has a
small flock that he maintains. Noah also starts a vineyard and
soon his wine becomes a regular feature at our get-togethers,
although Nava maintains it lacks the depth and complexity of her
berry wine. Noah is good-natured and always defers to her,
saying it is a poor effort on his part, to be sure.
Violence touches us once again, although, praise to Yah, we
are not harmed. There is an altercation down by the river,
between some traders and some passing young giants. The giants
were unarmed but fearless. Although it happened near our
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settlement, we do not know how it started, only how it ended.
The traders had spears and hurled them at the giants. Two were
killed. Enraged, the other giants waded into the rushing river and
promptly sank the traders's ship. What was left of the whole
conflict was a collection of spears on the shore. Bodies and boat
all disappeared into the river. The giants continued on to their
destination, mercifully, not opting to pay a visit to our settlement.
Noah took the spears and with a little help from the tools at
Methuselah's settlement, shaped them into pruning hooks. He
even made a present of one of them to Nava, for her berry
plants. She declared it gruesome but I notice she uses it
frequently.
It is Noah who becomes the centre of attention at our family
get-togethers. He has a way of bringing us all together, whether it
is to celebrate a harvest or a new moon. There is always a reason
to celebrate with Noah, a reason to celebrate Yah.
I see more of my children as a result. Rasujal and Pyramides
and their growing families always come out for the celebrations.
The star map grows over once again, but we have meals outside
under the stars themselves. Lamech and Noah take great pleasure
in pointing out the different stars.
Each has its own glory, says Noah. It is quite different
from the glory of man. The sun rules by day, the moon and stars
by night, we observe it all and Yah's love endures forever.
Such talk in a violent world is soothing to the spirit and those
who love Yah cannot help but be drawn to the young man. He
does not walk with Yah as his great-grandfather did, but he seems
blessed with favour nonetheless.
Even Kalah and her husband journey more often to be with
us, although I fear for their safety every time they travel. But if
Yah does not move among our settlement anymore, hope does.
And soon Kalah and her husband and their extended family are
back with us, staying in our home until they build themselves a
house from the timber in our forest.
My house is full again and my days are busier.
It is different here, says Kalah to me, now a mature woman
and hardly my daughter anymore. I cannot explain it.
It is Noah, I am sure of it.
Surprisingly, Kalah agrees with me. It is rare to have that.
Usually if I am of one opinion, she takes the opposite line of
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thought.
He worships Yah under the stars while the rest of the world
worships the stars, says Kalah.
Today, I am in my garden harvesting spinach. Noah and Jared
are sharpening their tools near my garden and discussing the way
earthly bodies and heavenly bodies differ.
What can we deduce from this? Jared is saying as he
sharpens his scythe with a stone.
I think it suggests that though this body is perishable, there
are imperishable forms . . .
But how can this be . . . ?
I take my basket of spinach and return to the house. These
conversations can go on for hours.

While the men take an interest in Noah, I cannot help but
focus my attention on Emzara. The girl is engaging, and unlike
the others of her age. When we are at Methuselah's settlement, I
take the time to talk to her. She has so many questions! Alas, I do
not always have the answers, but I seek them out for her. I am
afraid her parents consider her a bit of a bother with all her
questions and most of the other people at the settlement just
ignore her because she is a child. But they cannot ignore me!
My knowledge of plants is limited to my garden and the ones
in the forest, but for Emzara's sake, I talk to the cousins and
aunts who know about the medicinal qualities of plants, as well.
When I have exhausted all of their knowledge, I turn to Lamech
himself and with good-natured humour, he shares some of his
Great Pyramid education with me. Today, we are working side-by-
side in his father's flax fields.
And what is the reason for all these questions? he asks, at
last.
Ruefully, I grin.
It is for the sake of a precocious child.
A precocious child? he says, straightening his back and
groaning. We have been bent over for two hours now, pulling
weeds, a necessary but backbreaking job. I know of only Noah.
The one I am thinking of is a girl.
A girl? Lamech is puzzled.
The daughter of Rakeel, I say. Lamech glances across to
another field where the father of my special friend is also
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weeding between the flax plants.
Does she really need such knowledge? he asks.
I nod.
She is special.
Lamech continues to stand there, looking thoughtful. At that
moment, I know I have planted an idea in his mind. Emzara. A
special girl for his special son. I will speak no further to him
about the matter. It is better that he thinks it his own idea.
We continue weeding and I continue asking him about the
genealogies at the Great Pyramid. It is a topic that has always
interested me since I learnt of my true father's mission to the city
of Cain. Of course, the genealogies are far more extensive now,
but Emzara has taken an interest in her origins and wants to
know all she can about not just the sons of Seth, but the other
children of Adam too. I have shared what I know of the
different sons and daughters of Adam, and Emzara has listened
with rapt attention to my story of the journey from Enoch to the
I am able to share all that Lamech can tell me as well. Emzara
is even learning to write and she and I practise writing out what
we know of the sons of Cain and the sons of Seth. We use
leftover dye that makes nice ink when you dip a feather from a
bird into it.
There is a bark that makes a lovely surface to write on and
soon she and I have a collection of writings.
When her interest turns to metal and all the things that you
can do with it, I share my knowledge of the craftsmanship of my
brother, Tubal-Cain. Other men have mastered the art now and
so the metal products are not always made by him or his
craftsman anymore, but he was the father of them all, whether
they know his name or not.
Perhaps it was my conversation with Lamech, but Noah
occasionally joins us. The young girl is growing up and though
his talk is light, I sense that he might be looking at her with
different eyes. One thing is certain, there is no other candidate
for a wife in his life.
Mostly, Emzara and I work in the courtyard. There are always
meals to make for the flax and linen workers and I teach her
everything I know about preparing food, which is not a little at
this point in my life.
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I know my efforts are not in vain when one day we are in
Ena's garden, harvesting tomatoes for the sauce I want to make.
Noah joins us.
Although he lives at Jareds settlement and mine, he has been
here at Methuselah's settlement almost as often as we have.
No man has every joined us in the garden. But Noah is not an
ordinary man. He is soon filling up Emzara's basket with such
speed that I envision at least three days worth of sauce out of
this batch. Though slightly awed at having this masterful
assistant, Emzara remains her delightful, unassuming self. She
asks Noah why the stars are so bright.
He pauses and says that they are all, as far as we know, similar
to our sun and completely able to provide their own light, unlike
the moon who's light comes from the sun's reflection. Emzara
boldly asks him why some stars are brighter than others and this
causes Noah to immediately begin to share everything he knows
on the topic of celestial bodies, which is significantly abundant. I
smile to myself and return to the courtyard with some of the
tomatoes.
Emzara still seems to have stars in her eyes when she joins me
several hours later.
It is obvious to me that I am no longer the only one who
thinks that Noah and Emzara would make the perfect couple.

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Chapter Thirty Three
here should be a wedding, Jared grumbles.
In time, in time, I say, soothingly.
The whole settlement knows that Noah's attention is
focused on Emzara.
She is still young, I say. Not really. Emzara is a full-grown
woman. I am just having a hard time letting go of the lively little
girl that used to ask me a hundred questions between the mid-
morning coffee and the mid-day meal. Now she asks Noah all her
questions and what he cannot answer, he finds out from
someone who can.
But I can understand Jared's concern. The sons of Adam are
multiplying at a rapid rate, and yet, since Noah, there has not
been the birth of a direct descendant of Seth in our settlement.
He is certainly not getting any younger. My husband coughs.
It is a new thing for him, this cough. We are feeling aches and
pains that we have not known in the past. He is 179-years-old.
Not much older than you when you asked me to marry you,
I tease him.
He acknowledges this with a sigh. He is now 775-years-old
and it seems a long time ago. But that afternoon, news comes
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from upriver that seems to make his point about Noah and the
need for a wedding.
It is not traders who bring the news, but a grandson of
Cainan, who arrives with the sad announcement that his
grandfather is dead.
Jared is also a grandson of Cainan and we welcome his cousin
into our home.
He tells us more.
He has suffered ever since he turned 900, says the grandson.
That would be about . . . Jared pauses to think. Ten years
ago?
The grandson nods.
Turning nine hundred is an unsettling experience. It is the
indicator that one is nearing the end of his life. Adam made it to
930, Seth to 912, and Enosh to 905.
And how is your father? the cousin asks Jared. It is a
pertinent question. Mahalalel is now the oldest of the sons of
Seth.
He is well, says Jared, clearing his throat. Though I cannot
say the same for myself.
Oh we are young men! says the cousin, heartily. I think it is
more to reassure himself than to make any statement of truth.
After a night in our home, the grandson of Cainan moves on,
now accompanied by Jared, to take the sad news to Mahalalel's
settlement.
I will be gone a few days, says Jared, giving me a tender kiss
and a wave when we say goodbye the next day. I nod. I expected
as much.
Kalah and her family have their own home in our settlement
now. I will, perhaps, spend some time with Kalah. Her children
are all grown, some with children of their own.
It is with a heavy heart that I move through my quiet home.
Death again. And it will continue to come to each one of us.
Mualaleth, Cainan's wife, died a few years ago. It is almost a
routine matter now to hear a report that someone has died.
Almost. I have not quite gotten used to it.
Despite my initial thought that I might spend some time with
Kalah, I never actually make it over to her home. She seems
oblivious of the obvious destiny of us all. For my Kalah, death is
something that happens to other people. She will have new
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curtains to show me or a dish of pickled beans she wants me to
try. And right now, I have no heart for everyday living.

Jared returns to report to me that his father seems to be
enjoying his status as the oldest son of Seth, although he is
genuinely grieved by his own father's death.
But, of course, they do not see each other very often, so his
loss will not be felt right away.
It takes time for the idea of someone being gone to settle
in, I say. I have spent the last few days in a listless state, hardly
able to even prepare meals for myself. Only Edna and her kind-
hearted attention has been my company.
Having Jared home helps. He is someone to take care of and
gradually the death of Cainan recedes from my mind and I can
get back to visiting with my family and helping them in any way I
can.
My days of instructing Emzara over, nonetheless, she is to
become a large part of my life. The circumstances that bring it
about, however, are sad.
Her mother is still young and one of Ena's finest weavers. She
becomes pregnant and when I do see Emzara at Methuselah's
settlement, she is excited about having a brother or sister in the
near future. We talk in the courtyard as we make the mid-
morning coffee for everyone.
I wish Mother would rest more, sighs Emzara. She loves
making linen too much to take a break from it.
No doubt she has made something special for the baby, I
say, smiling.
Emzara nods.
A beautiful embroidered blanket will welcome him, or her. I
prefer a sister.
I nod.
How is Noah? Emzara asks, shyly.
Busy with his livestock, as usual, I say. You are the only
woman in his life, but I am afraid you will always have to
compete with his interest in livestock and grapes.
Emzara laughs.
Emzara! You must come quickly! It is Ena suddenly
appearing in the quiet courtyard. Your mother needs you!
Immediately, Emzara follows, looking concerned. I am right
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behind her.
Is it her time? I ask. I was under the impression she had a
few months to go.
She does, says Ena. But I think the baby may be coming
early.
That is not good.
We go into Ena's house and she takes us upstairs to one of
the bedrooms. Emzara's mother is stretched out on a bed,
propped up by cushions. She is pale.
Emzara, she moans, reaching for her daughter. Emzara
hurries to her side and takes her hand.
Where is the midwife? I ask Ena.
We have sent for her. But she is in the settlement of Cainan
and it will take time. She was not planning on coming to the
settlement for another two months . . .
Ena has had only one child but I have had enough to know
that this is not going well. Giving birth is never easy, but
Emzara's mother is as white as a sheep.
Is it the pain, dear? I ask, moving closer.
She barely has the strength to nod.
Do you feel the birth pains, though? I ask. If she is in this
much agony, she should be close to giving birth. There should be
intense cramping. But Emzara's mother shakes her head.
Only pain, she whispers.
I am not a midwife but there is no one else who seems to
know what to do. When I was giving birth, the child in me
struggled to come out. I crouch down beside her but feel no
movement in her belly. Although I have no experience with
animals, I recently watched Noah assist a sheep giving birth. Like
Emzara's mother, the sheep seemed to be unable to do it herself.
It was messy, but Noah reached right in to get the lamb out.
I take a deep breath.
Bring me water, I say to Ena who has been standing still.
She hurries off. And clean linen! I call out to her back.
Can I help? asks Emzara, pale but calm and determined.
Hold your mother's hand. Tell her it is going to be fine and
she will soon have a child to hold.
Emzara whispers soothing words to her mother.
Ena is back with water and cloths. Just in time. I have pulled
my fingers out of the birthing area and though I can feel that she
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is definitely ready to give birth, there is no indicator that the baby
is trying to come out.
Oh Yah! moans Ena as I wash my hands and tell her what I
have discovered. What are we going to do?
I think for a moment.
Get Noah! I say suddenly.
Ena looks at me as if I am out of my right mind.
He has done this before, I whisper. With his livestock.
I find out later that one of the young men is sent to run all the
way back our settlement and ordered not to stop even to take a
breath. By afternoon, Noah has joined us in the small room.
Emzara's mother is near to death. I can sense it. I see the life
seeping out of her eyes and her body is getting weaker. For all
her pains, none of them are producing the necessary labour to
bring forth her child.
Noah moves to the mother's side and speaks gently to her,
stroking her forehead.
She responds slightly. We have been putting cool damp cloths
on her forehead but Noah's firm touch is reassuring.
Everything he does is tender, but with assurance. When he is
done checking on the child, he turns to us and quietly says, I am
not sure that the child still lives. But her pain will not stop until
we bring it out. I have done this before.
Would you like us to stay? Ena asks bravely.
Noah glances at some fresh water in a bowl and the clean
cloths that have just been brought in.
No, he says, simply.
So even Emzara, supported by Ena and myself, leaves the
room.
Emzara's mother is so weak now that she only whimpers in
pain. And that is the last thing I hear before the door closes.
Wearily, we go downstairs. Morning coffee was long forgotten
and the whole settlement now knows that Rakeel's wife is in
labour, but that it is not going well. The house is subdued, the
workers having turned instead to quiet reflection or soft prayers
to Yah.
Emzara is led to her father who sits alone on a couch, his head
in his hands. She puts her arm around him and he reaches out to
grasp her hand.
It seems like a good time to go into the courtyard and make a
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large pot of mint tea, a soothing drink for a troubled time.
The tea has barely been distributed before Noah comes
downstairs and asks that Emzara and Rakeel accompany him
upstairs.
We all look at one another in hope. Has a child been born?
Will the mother's strength return? Already I am thinking about
milk for the child. A wet nurse will have to be found for him or
her if the mother is not strong enough. Or, if the situation is
desperate, the midwife who attended me told me a story of how
she used goat's milk to feed a child until a wet nurse could be
found. Certainly, we can find a mother goat . . .
Quietly, we sip our tea and wait for some news. But instead of
the cry of a child we hear the cry of a man.
Now the looks we exchange with one another are of horror. It
is Rakeel.
Noah comes downstairs looking drained and joins me in the
courtyard. I hand him a sweetened cup of tea that he finishes in
one gulp.
Now tell me, I say, taking his arm. The child is dead?
Noah nods, his eyes troubled.
He does not speak.
Please, Noah, I say to my great-great grandson. The
mother is well, though?
He shakes his head.
But surely, with the child out of her, she will recover her
strength? She was always a strong young woman . . . ?
Noah shakes his head again.
Not when it really mattered, dear Mother. He kisses my
cheek and returns into the house where he will have to deliver the
heartbreaking news.
I stay by myself in the courtyard. Poor Emzara. Now without
a mother. And death. Once again, death. But this time, far too
young. On weak legs, slowly, I return into the house.
I have heard it happens. Every birth is a risk.
She was the sweetest of women. But did she really need
another child . . . ?
Poor Rakeel. But he is young. He will find comfort
again . . .
It is all very natural, the comments. I think it is a way to
distance themselves from the news of death.
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I go upstairs to see if I can help.
Rakeel and Emzara spend the rest of the day weeping. Emzara
is holding the dead child, a tiny girl. It is not until morning that
she is willing to give her to me. When she and her father finally
return to their rooms, Ena and I are left alone with the mother
and child, both so white and lifeless.
Gently, I put the baby in the mother's arms.
Though by now, we are both exhausted, Ena and I prepare the
bodies for death, wrapping them in linen. The child is in the
blanket that her mother so lovingly prepared for her. Then
Methuselah is summoned to talk to Rakeel about having his wife
and child buried in the settlement. Rakeel dully agrees and the
burial plot is prepared by Methuselah and his grandson, Noah.
In the afternoon, the whole settlement gathers for the burial.
Rakeel, too grief-stricken to do anything but stand supported by
Emzara and Ena, allows Noah to speak.
And Noah gives a beautiful talk about how every woman is
like Hawwa, Mother of All Living, risking her life to bring life
into the world. He speaks of Emzara's mother's last moments.
She knew she carried a girl and was able to hold her for just one
moment before she herself drifted off.
I do not think she realized the child was not alive, says
Noah, his voice cracking with emotion. She had hope and joy in
her eyes when she held her child.
Many standing by the burial plot are now quietly crying as
Noah continues.
For Rakeel and Emzara, you may know that she did not die
of pain, for at that time, her pain had passed. And she did not die
in hopeless despair, for at that time she was holding the one she
loved, the one for whom it was worth the pain.
Now all the settlement is weeping.
Emzara's mother died at that moment of joy when a mother
is rewarded for her labours and holds her own child in her arms.
But as I weep for the dead mother, I weep for myself.
For it would seem that the moment of birth is the only time
when the child is wholly your own. The child grows. The child
goes his or her own way. Even Jared by my side cannot take away
the pain of bearing children who I can no longer call my own.

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And so, Emzara comes to live at our settlement. She has a
room in our house and though she is in grief, I am more than
happy to have her with us.
It is not just the death of her mother that has nearly shattered
her, but the shocking remarriage of her father to one of the
other linen weavers.
Emzara can in no way understand how her father could so
quickly turn to another woman. For weeks, we listen to her rage
against this other woman and against her father.
Noah is entirely sympathetic and proves his nobility by only
listening and not commenting. It is left to Jared, in the end, to say
one night at dinner, Your father has found comfort with one
woman. He believes he can have the same comfort with another
woman.
Emzara's eyes flash anger, first at Jared (who is oblivious to it,
his focus being on his pea soup) and then at her father who is, of
course, not with us. She stirs her soup vigorously, almost spilling
it on the table.
And then, a calm comes over her and she shrugs and turns her
attention to the soup.
Her time of mourning over, she is soon seen with Noah,
laughing and helping him with his grapes or his animals. Now
that they are in the same settlement, they are together daily and
Jared finally goes over to Edna's house where Noah is staying and
firmly tells him to start building a house for his bride-to-be.
Good-naturedly, Noah agrees. But first, he asks Emzara if she
is willing to marry him. Of course, she is.
He is the only family I have now, she says to me, on the day
that she agrees to be his wife. I have lost my mother and my
sister. My father is a stranger to me.
You will have a new family with Noah, I say, patting her
hand.
Noah surprises us though. Jared assumed he would build his
house in our settlement. But Noah requests that he be permitted
to build his home by the enormous portion of land that was
designated for Enoch's star map. It is a vast forest, waiting to be
cleared, except that Enoch never carried on the tradition of his
fathers.
What could he possibly want with all that forest? Jared
muses, one night while we sit on our porch watching the stars
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come out. Noah and Emzara are eating with Edna tonight. And
surely it is safer to be living with us?
I murmur possibility. The sons of Adam are rapidly claiming
the earth and perhaps Noah just wants to make sure that the
portion of land stays with the sons of Seth.
I always have the feeling that my children are not telling me
everything, complains Jared.
I laugh.
Do you think that Yah has told Noah that he should claim
the land and the forest for some unforeseen purpose? I ask.
Jared shrugs.
I would not be surprised. And he would certainly not tell me
if he did.
I do not know whether it is Yah or Noah he is referring to. In
any case, it is an idle conversation and we slip into comfortable
silence as we watch the stars.

The wedding is not the celebrated event that the marriage of a
son of Seth has been in the past. For one thing, Seth himself is
gone, as is his son and grandson. So it is Mahalalel who presides
over the ceremony and the guests are mainly from his and
Methuselah's settlement.
The festivities are held at our settlement so once again, I am
preparing food for larger numbers.
Though Noah is a man who seeks Yah, it strikes me how little
Yah plays a part in the day. He is mentioned in the wedding
ceremony itself and then after that, hardly referred to again.
Instead, the talk among the sons of Seth is about personal
security and wealth.
One could hardly accuse Methuselah of being a man who
pursues wealth but he is held up in high esteem for the success he
and his wife have had with their linen industry. The only
comparable success is one of the cousins in Mahalalel's
settlement who has become well known for his pottery and the
delicate designs painted on his pieces. He and Ena have much to
discuss about various dyes that they use.
For me, the conversation leaves me listless and heavy. I have
no interest in the matters of the world and I hardly expect
anyone to inquire about my daily routine, nor indeed, would I
want to talk about myself. But everyone else, it seems, is eager to
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boast of their achievements, or else the achievements they aspire
to. The women, if they have no ambitions of their own, certainly
have many for their children.
Emzara joins me in the courtyard and I shoo her away.
This is your wedding day! I say. Relax and enjoy it!
She shakes her head and smiles as she starts to arrange some
almond cookies on a platter. The girl is like me, I realize. Bored
by the conversation and restless for something higher and more
noble. Her father is here, among the men, with his second wife
and their newborn son. The second wife does not seem
interested in including Emzara in the raising of this half-brother.
Emzara fills a bowl with dates while I make a cauldron of tea.
Most people are drinking wine, but after it has worn off, some
will want the soothing effects of the tea. We work in silence, but
it is an understanding silence. I do not inquire about her and
Noah's future plans. Many of the men have asked Noah already
how he will make his fortune. He smiles and says it is in Yah's
hands. While I think it is a splendid answer, the men take it to
mean that Noah has no idea what he will do and that he and
Emzara will be eating roots and berries from the forest to
survive.
I do not point out to them that, though Nava has contributed
some jugs of berry wine to the festivities, the majority of what
they are drinking is from Noah's vineyard. I imagine he will be
busy beginning another vineyard by his new home. He will take
with him the livestock, and he and Emzara have already created a
garden of their own.
But I know what Noah means.
He is a direct descendant of Seth. When he was born, his
father was inspired to cry out, This one comforts us concerning
our work and the toil of our hands, because of the ground which
Yah has cursed!
It is not a simple matter of subsistence, but perhaps, of doing
something great for Yah, something yet foreseen.

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Part Six

310

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Chapter Thirty Four
gain, the settlement is quiet and routine carries us from
day-to-day, month-to-month, year-to-year.
My husband is convinced that he has enough aches
and pains in his body that he will not outlive his father. But then,
one day, the news comes to us, Mahalalel is dead at 895-years-old.
Jared, now 830-years-old, is the patriarch of the family.
He did not even make it to 900, says Jared grimly.
I nod. It is a sobering thought. The last time we saw Mahalalel,
there was talk of the celebration that his settlement would have
when he turned 900.
Jared spends several days in deep thought and then makes a
startling announcement. He and I will make a journey to the
Great Pyramid, and beyond. It will be a river journey and we will
follow the water until we come to the Great Sea.
But why, Jared? I ask. I am not opposed to the idea as much
as I am curious.
I cannot expect his words to come out in a rush, so I wait
patiently. We are eating soup and bread for our evening meal and
have the table to ourselves tonight.
All my life I have believed the stories, says Jared, slowly.
A
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The Garden, the two trees, a flaming sword guarding the way to
the Tree of Life . . .
I nod. It is the most familiar of the oldest stories. New stories
of recent exploits get passed on now, mostly tales of the
Nephilim, but the prudent patriarch still takes his newly-born
grandsons and great-grandsons and great-great-grandsons and
tells them the most ancient story of all.
But I must see it for myself, says Jared. If there is a way to
Life, I must take it, no matter what the risk.
Now it is my turn to speak slowly.
Yes, I see what you mean . . . If it is only a matter of a
journey, albeit a difficult one . . . perhaps Life is still possible.
If such were the case, though, what about the people who
have already died?
But then I think of how Enoch had such little interest in the
everyday matters of life. And he walked with Yah. Perhaps it is
time for me and Jared to abandon the cares of this world and
seek Yah.
This time, there is no need to find a trader to take our
furniture. Noah left us with a healthy vineyard and Jared has
diligently tended it and reaped its fruit. Some of its harvest was
eaten as grapes, but most of it was turned into wine. Since
festivities are few in our settlement (I cannot say the same for the
rest of the sons of Adam!) Jared sold the wine in wooden casks
to the traders and now has a small fortune of coins in a chest
under our bed. Coins are the means of exchange now. They, too,
are a metal product and if Tubal-Cain is still alive, he must be a
wealthy man if he has anything to do with the production of this
currency.
The advent of coins has also brought a form of security. The
traders themselves organized it. It is bad for the economy to have
people living in fear and stockpiling their coins. So the trading
districts of any town are generally guarded by giants and anyone
who steals, either coins or merchandise, can be assured of a
bloody end. The trading boats are also manned with armed men
who do not hesitate to rid the earth of anyone who should rob
either a customer or a merchant. For an added fee, you can have
one of the armed men escort you right back to your home with
your purchase.
Jared and I do not tell anyone of our real reason for the
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journey. I think Jared does not want someone to tell him that he
is being absurd and that it is an impossible quest. For my part, I
feel hope. Enoch's writings say that he visited the Garden once.
So it cannot entirely be off-limits to the children of Adam.
Everyone understands Jared's desire to visit the Great
Pyramid, though. He is the oldest son of Seth, and perhaps even
the oldest man on earth.
And so, one day, we quietly take passage on a trader's boat and
set off down the Tigris.
It has been so long since I have travelled any further than
Methuselah's settlement. In fact, that is our first stop. Bales of
embroidered linen are exchanged for bags of coins, the whole
transaction being carried out by Nava's giant grandchildren, now
older men, and well-established members of Methuselah's
community. They grin and give us a wave as they head back to
the settlement. I doubt anyone will attempt to deprive them of
their bag of coins. They are not only large, but they have long
metal daggers at their sides. Their loose linen pants could also
hide knives strapped to their legs.
Over the next few days, we spend most of our hours along
the boat's railing, waving when we recognize someone. These are
our people, the older ones anyhow. We do not recognize all the
younger faces.
The Great Pyramid is still a hub of activity and learning. Most
of the star maps are now waist-high in weeds and grass, but here,
everything is cared for and the grass is regularly trimmed.
This is where we encounter our first obstacle.
The head-trader had assured Jared that we would spend a day
or two in the vicinity of the Great Pyramid. Thus assured, Jared
had paid our passage for a journey to the Great Sea.
However, arriving at the Great Pyramid, there is no one at the
dock and so the traders just drift right by.
I thought you said we would stop! says Jared, watching in
horror as the dock gets further and further away.
The head-trader shrugs.
It is unusual not to. But there was no one here today.
But I need to stop!
I can stop, says the trader. But only to let you off. There is
no one to trade with.
So you would just carry on and leave us?
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The trader nods.
Jared looks grim. He is making a decision. Finally, he sighs and
just turns back to the rails. The head-trader takes that as the
indicator that the discussion has ended. When he has gone below,
Jared explains to me why we are continuing on with the traders.
I do not think that any of the maps in the Great Pyramid
would have the precise location of the Garden. How could they?
No one knows for certain where the Garden is, only our
deceased Father and Mother. It seems prudent to carry on right
to the Great Sea. From there, we will have to figure out where the
Garden is.
But that very evening, he is discussing the matter with the
head-trader, who though not a lover of Yah, has certainly seen
the world.
I have never known anyone who knew where it was, says the
head-trader, thoughtfully. We are now sailing down the Pishon
River. It surrounds the land of Havilah, my original name.
Despite its reputation for violence, the night is quiet.
My understanding is that the Garden of Eden is on the edge
of the Great Sea, says Jared, to the man. It is an interesting
phenomenon that my normally quiet husband finds it easy to
share his desire to find the Garden with a trader and not his own
kinsmen. This particular one says he has seen most of the
inhabited world and even knows of some men who have chosen
to explore the Great Sea, although, beyond sight of the shore
they say it is just water, water and more water.
My understanding is that one large river came out of Eden,
says the trader. In fact, that it watered the garden. And then
outside the garden, it turned into the four rivers.
True, true, says Jared. Has nobody sought after it?
The trader laughs.
There is no profit in seeking out Eden.
No, but there is Life, Jared murmurs.
That is your greatest strength, says the trader, still smiling.
Let everyone know your destination and surely you will travel
unmolested. All will think of you as lunatics and there is no
profit in lunacy.
I could be wrong, says Jared, that night in our tiny cabin.
What do you mean? I ask, glad that we brought along my
favourite cotton sheet to sleep under. It is needed along the river
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where the breeze can be cool at night.
The Great Sea, says Jared, climbing into bed with me. We
almost have to sleep on our sides to both fit. I should not be
seeking the Great Sea. The point where the Pishon meets the
Great Sea is not necessarily the location of the Garden. The
trader is right. One river came out of the Garden. I need to find
the point where the four rivers meet.
I suppose you are right, I say, yawning.
Despite the trader confessing that for all his travels, he does
not have the slightest idea where the four rivers meet, he and
Jared continue to talk.
I am left standing on the deck by myself. We are moving
through a well-populated area and there will be many stops today.
What on earth is that? I ask, pointing to a towering
structure. It is similar to a pyramid but looks like it is made of
earth rather than stone.
The young man who I ask glances at it and says, It is a temple
to the goddess.
I have never seen such a thing, I say.
The young man grins.
They do not have such things in the settlements of Seth. We
always find it dull to pass through your villages.
Dull? I ask, surprised. What do you mean?
You have no women, he says.
Women? I say. We have many women!
He laughs.
Not the kind you find in there, he jerks his thumb in the
direction of the temple before moving along to coil some loose
rope.
Our first stop provides us with an unsettling example of what
life is like for many of the sons of Adam.
Herded to our boat are a small group of people, a family
consisting of a mother and her four children.
You know I do not handle slaves, says the head-trader to the
man who wants to sell them.
I am bewildered. Selling people?
I look down at the woman. Her head is bowed. She looks
broken by life. The children cling to her and she seems helpless
to protect them in any way.
The young man who told me about the temple sees the
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expression on my face.
You do not have slaves in the settlements of Seth either, do
you?
I shake my head.
With worldly knowledge, he leans on the railing and explains it
to me.
They are being sold to pay off debts. Probably the debts of
that man over there. He points. A tearful man is being held back
by two men.
Such a thing should not surprise me. The sons of Cain had
the same system. And yet, looking at this small family and the
terror on the children's faces makes me feel as if I have never
seen anything as evil as this in all my life.
Jared has been standing behind me and now he moves
forward, down the ramp to the man who wants to unload the
slaves on our boat.
How much? he asks the man.
The man looks at him with interest.
Fifty silver pieces for the woman. Ten for each of the
children.
It is a huge sum of money. It may be all that we have. But at
that moment, I want my husband to hand it entirely over if it
means saving these people from slavery.
Our head-trader hurries down the ramp to stand by Jared.
That is a ridiculous sum, you cheater.
The man grins, like, I tried.
Twenty for the woman, then, he says.
Our head-traders is still glaring at him. Finally, it is worked
down to five pieces of silver for the woman and one for each of
the children.
I still think you got cheated, says our trader. But, at least,
you have yourself some healthy slaves. He glances at the mother
and her children huddled under her arms. The father is quietly
weeping, no longer being held back, but certain that he has lost
his family forever.
I have no need for slaves, says Jared, patting one of the
children on his head. He waves at the father and calls out, They
are yours now.
The father looks at him in disbelief. Then, slowly, he realizes
his family is free. And then he is laughing and embracing his wife
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and children.
I have never been more proud of my husband than I am at
this moment.
But the young trader beside me is shaking his head.
Your husband is a fool, he says. Next time we pass this
way, they will be up for sale again.
You are saying the man will run up his debts again? I ask,
concerned.
The young man nods.
Greed is an addiction, he says. It is why we are so wealthy.
He goes off to help his fellow traders weigh anchor to move on.
We are on one of the large boats that do not just rely on tying up
at the dock to stay steady.
Is that true what he says? I ask the head-trader who has
been listening to our conversation with interest.
He nods.
I am afraid so. I have known men who sell one family to pay
off their debts and then turn around and take a second wife and
do it all over again. We are moving on the water now and he
glances back at the man walking away with his family, carrying a
child on his shoulders with his arm around another. But perhaps
this situation will be different.
I hope so. It is not for the sake of the money that Jared spent,
but for the sake of that poor woman.

Unfortunately, we see many other wretched sights as the
Pishon carries us all around the perimeters of the land of
Havilah. The young man seems to take particular glee in pointing
out to me the various fields worked by people who have made
themselves bonded servants to a strong man. Many of them are
young children.
These are violent times, says the young man. No one can
be his own master. In these parts, anyway.
So they band together and work in some man's field in
exchange for protection? I say. I am watching the scene. There
are as many armed men as there are field workers.
It is not a bad life if you have the right master, the young
man says.
But that young girl back there . . . I am leaning over the
railing to see what looks to me like a baby out harvesting cotton.
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I have lost all interest in cotton now that I see who must work to
bring it to me.
They are only expected to work twelve hours a day and the
rest of the time is their own.
Twelve hours a day! I say, looking at him incredulously. The
fields provide no relief from the blazing sun. Our settlements are
shaded, but here, the trees have all been cleared to increase the
number of fields. Such a hard life . . .
A young girl can have the soft life in one of the temples, he
says, pointing at yet another abomination to Yah on the horizon.
Please, I say, holding up a hand. Do not tell me more about
the temples.
He grins.
It is not all about the goddess. Some of them are erected to
honour the moon, others the sun . . .
They are all Yah's creation, I burst out. The woman, the
moon, the sun. Where is the temple to Yah?
The young man shrugs.
As far as I know, no such temple exists.

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ne thing that astounds me is how, despite the cruelty of
the world they live in, the women flock to the boat of
the traders to buy the fertility goddesses in order to
bring more life into this fallen world. The head-trader assures
them all that each fetish is made from the same fir tree planted
above Hawwa's grave.
A remarkably huge tree, I say to him drily one day.
With an amazing capacity to replenish itself, he says,
grinning.
Jared spends his evenings making a map based on the stories
of some of the traders. The head-trader is relatively young, only
about 300-years-old, but has seen more than most men. In
addition, some of the older men enjoy sharing with Jared all that
they have seen and heard.
That night, in our cabin, Jared shows me the map he has put
together.
We will come out here, he points on his map. He has a
shoreline with the Pishon running into the sea. The oldest man
here tells me that the Gihon runs around the whole land of
Cush. He has travelled it many times but he could not tell me at
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what point it runs to the sea, if at all. We ourselves know the
point where the Tigris and the Pishon meet but this offers very
little clue as to where all four converge . . .
He is musing to himself.
It would have been a lot easier had we stopped at the Great
Pyramid to look at the maps, I say.
The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that the
information would not be there. How could it be? Why would
Father Adam tell Seth where the four rivers meet? says my
husband climbing into the bed with me. Reluctantly, I pull the
cotton sheet over us. When I get home, I am exchanging all my
cotton sheets for Ena's linen sheets. At least I know they were
made by workers who are not slaves to fear. For I am sure that
even if this cotton comes from Dalath, the hearts of men there
are the same as in Havilah.
Perhaps we will learn more at the sea, says Jared. They tell
me it is a place of great exploration. The bravest take their boats
and set out looking for new shores. Perhaps, along one of those
shores, they have seen the Garden . . .
He is still looking over his map as I drift off to sleep.
It is five days later when we arrive at the Great Sea. It is a
remarkable sight, both the city and the water. I have never seen
so much water and it stretches on forever. We moor at one of the
hundreds of docks lined along the shore and step out onto the
rocky ground. We wish the traders Godspeed and with genuine
warmth, the head-trader wishes us well in our journeys.
Jared takes my hand and we walk along the shore.
What a marvellous vision of Yah, says my husband.
His way of putting it is perfect.
It is a scene of infinite splendour, the light playing on the
water's surface. But all around us is the bustle of boats being
loaded and unloaded with merchandise. We have to walk quite a
distance to get to a quiet spot. There are some large rocks, and of
one mind, we sit and watch as the sun goes down.
Perhaps we are fools for letting the day slip away before
finding a lodge for the night, but we have never seen the sun set
over such a vast panorama of water.
In any case, the city is filled with life and light at night. Many
traders stay here for a few days before returning down the river.
Taverns are full. We do not peek in to see what pleasures they
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offer for the passing traveller. Instead, we head up some stairs to
a tall building offering rooms by the day, week or month. We
enter into a large foyer with some chairs and tables scattered
around. But it is quiet. This seems to be the one place in the city
by the sea that does not want to stay up. We notice a door and a
notice on it that says to Knock for Service. We comply.
But the sign is misleading. We do not receive service as much
as a begrudging acknowledgement of our existence by a tired-
looking older woman who says to come back in the morning.
I suppose we will have to sleep in your lobby, says Jared.
We are good people and we will not take refuge in a tavern.
The woman sighs. She tells us to wait and returns with a key
for a room.
One night? she asks.
A week, I think, says Jared.
Our room is on the top floor and offers us an incredible view
of the Great Sea.
I will enjoy the sunsets, I say.
Jared nods. But he is already pulling out his map and lighting
the oil lamp in order to study it.
I examine the bed. It will be a much more comfortable sleep
than the one I had last night on the boat.

The next morning we set out for breakfast.
The taverns offer nothing by way of morning meals. They are
closed and some of them even have men sleeping in their
doorways.
The marketplace is waking up and we buy some hot bread and
a mug of sweetened coffee from a woman who has a small but
thriving eatery. Benches and tables are filled with people all eating
the same as us. There is nothing else on the menu. There are a lot
of single men here, young and old.
Jared starts talking to one of the older men, asking him if he
has done a lot of sailing in his life. The man shakes his head. He
does not want to talk and keeps his eyes on his mug of coffee.
A young man speaks up.
I have sailed all four rivers, he boasts.
Jared's eyes light up. But he quickly discovers that it is an idle
boast. The youth hardly knows anything beyond the Pishon.
We stay longer than any of the patrons and Jared makes many
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attempts to get a conversation going. I notice that the large, red-
headed lady who runs this establishment is washing mugs and
watching us with amusement.
You are seeking information, she says when we are, at last
alone. The morning meal has passed and it is a natural lull in
business for her.
Yes, I am, says Jared earnestly. He is not aware that she has
been following everything that has gone on so far.
My husband is a sailor, the lady says. That is why I came
here. I got tired of never seeing him. She shrugs. Now I see
him a few times a month.
Would he be able to tell us where the Garden of Eden is?
Jared asks eagerly.
The woman just stares at him and then laughs.
The Garden of Eden! she says. I thought that was just a
myth!
No, says Jared. It is real. Our Father Adam lived there.
Our Father Adam, says the lady, shaking her head, as if she
doubts his existence too.
Then I take it your husband would have no idea where the
Garden of Eden is, I say, leaning forward. Perhaps this
conversation would go better if it were woman-to-woman.
The woman snorts.
Oh, you can talk to him and he will tell you some wild tales. I
expect him back two or three days from now . . .
We will be back, Jared promises. We pay for our breakfast
and head out into the sun. We are still within sight of the sea,
even in this bustling market. Every street seems to lead down to
the water and there is moisture in the air, a quite different
sensation than being by the banks of the Tigris.
The city is as big as Enoch, but with the feeling of being less
permanent, more of a trader's outpost. Only the occasional giant
is here and they are security guards escorting rich traders.
What do we do now? I ask.
Jared glances at the stores surrounding the crowded plaza.
Many of them have sea products shells, huge bags of salt,
sponges, edible sea plants, skincare products. Most of the
business here is related to boats whole stores devoted to rope,
anchors, pitch to prevent leaking, replacement rudders and oars,
barrels, baskets. The final industry that thrives is weapons and
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shields for defence.
As we keep walking, we pass a whole yard full of planks for
boat repair. A signs advertises boats made to owner's
specifications.
Jared turns in to the yard. It is fenced in and there is a giant on
guard at the entranceway.
Yes? he grunts.
We would like to talk to someone, he says. At first I think
that Jared has decided that we need our own boat for exploring. I
am semi-alarmed.
Your oldest employee, Jared continues.
The giant grunts again and we end up in the office of the
yard's manager.
Now, he says, folding his hands on his desk. It is filled with
blueprints for boats. Would you like your own boat, then?
I am looking for the point where the four rivers converge. I
was wondering if any of your men might have come across it in
their travels.
The manager just stares at him and then laughs.
I will tell you a secret, he says.
Jared leans forward.
The best boatbuilders are the men who have never sailed the
Great Sea.
I sigh. Jared looks disappointed.
Why do you want to know? the man asks. A cunning look
crosses his face. Is there money to be had in discovering the
point where the four rivers meet?
It is only a personal journey. He stands up. I am sorry to
have taken up your time.
Think nothing of it, says the man, walking us to his door.
And remember to come to me if you ever need a boat.
Jared agrees and we are soon back on the street.
We might have to seek out the more disreputable places, I
say.
I do not want to do that, Baraka, says Jared. And no one
would give the information away for free. The love of money
would cause many to fabricate a story and how would we verify it
without actually travelling . . .
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His voice drifts off in discouragement.
My eyes scan the streets. Dilapidated signs above tavern doors
advertise wine, beer and female company.
Maybe we are talking to the wrong people, I say. I take
Jared's hand and drag him into a tavern. He resists at first and
then follows me, but looking at me as if I have lost my reason.
I go straight up to a long wooden counter where a middle-
aged man is cleaning some mugs with a cotton rag.
No service until afternoon, he says.
We do not want a drink, I say. We want some female
company. Jared and the man are equally as shocked.
Well, that is a first, he mutters. I suppose I could dig up
something for you, though most of the ladies like to have a sleep-
in after their late nights. Any preference? Golden hair? Dark
hair?
Grey hair, I say, grinning.
Grey hair? We do not have too many of those.
OK, I say. I just want to, er, visit with your most, how shall
I say this? Mature lady.
Well, says the man. There is Mara and I daresay she will be
awake. She does not get too many customers these days.
Perfect, I say. Can we see her?
There is a matter of money, says the man, putting down the
mug and the rag. But since you are clearly crazy and Mara will be
thrilled to have some customers, I will give you to her for the low
price of one bronze coin.
It is the same price as our breakfast and Jared passes the coin
over to him without complaint. I think Jared figures out that I am
trying to go at this a different way.
Mara is hardly prepared for company, but the man
thoughtlessly opens the door on her and calls out, Customers!
I see the surprised look on the older woman's face. She is,
perhaps, only 500-years-old, but her face is worn with care and
rough living. Her presence here is, no doubt, a testimony to the
tavern owner's kindness in continuing to provide for the women
even after they are no longer desired by his customers.
What is this? says Mara, staring at Jared and I. She is seated
on the edge of an unmade bed, wearing a robe that slips off her
shoulder in a provocative way. She has a dresser covered in
skincare products and cosmetics, as well as a mirror to apply
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them in front of.
I glance back to make sure the man is gone.
We just want to talk, I say, sitting down beside her on the
bed. Jared remains standing in the doorway.
I have not done anything wrong, she says, looking first at
me and then at Jared.
I know, I know, I say quickly. It is just that my husband and
I are on a journey and we thought that you might be able to help
us.
Mara is just staring at me. I cannot imagine what she must be
thinking right now.
We want to find the Garden of Eden, I say quickly. And we
know that it should be near the point where the four rivers meet.
We were hoping that you might know of a sailor who has been to
that location.
Mara continues to stare at me.
That is all? she asks. That is all you want?
I nod.
Well, that is easy then, she says, tossing back her long
greying hair. The man you want to talk to is Harpatka.

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do not know if it is customary but Mara gets another
bronze coin from us and a warm thank you for directing us
to Harpatka. He is an old sailor, older than me, says Mara.
And from what we gather, he is her only steady customer
anymore. They go way back together, to the days when Harpatka
first arrived in the city.
He is one of the few people who now makes the city his
permanent home. He had a wife and a child in Cush, but Mara
gathered that the wife died when giving birth to a second child
and her parents would not let him have the first child since they
never particularly liked the idea of their daughter marrying a
sailor.
But he has seen more of the earth than any man I know,
says Mara. Those were the days when the traders were looking
for new routes. Now they just stay on the Pishon and the Tigris.
It became a dull life for men like Harpatka. I am sure one day he
will buy his own boat and disappear on the horizon.
With this thought in mind, Jared and I hurry to the one other
place where Mara thinks we might find Harpatka. She has never
been to his apartment, but she knows he favours a tavern along
I
328
the water when he is not visiting with her.
It is too early in the day for Harpatka to be frequenting the
tavern, the bartender tells us. Like the one at Mara's tavern, he is
cleaning mugs before his customers begin arriving again.
But he will be here when the sun goes down, the man
assures us. I get the impression he has very few other places to
go.
We nod and say we will come back later.
He eyes us and says we are not the usual type of people that
frequent his establishment. I think he is concerned for our safety.
Jared acknowledges this with a nod and says, That is the price
we must pay.
This enigmatic answer intrigues the man and we end up
staying longer in his tavern. In fact, he serves us a free meal, the
conversation becomes so interesting to him. He apologizes for
the simple fare seasoned potatoes and breaded onions, both
fried in oil. They are excellent accompaniments to his beer, he
explains. Being seasoned with salt, they make his customers
thirsty so that they order more beer. Although, to us, he offers
some sweetened wine that he purchased from the traders.
Our plan to journey to Eden fascinates him.
I am so tempted to drop everything and just join you, he
says, his mugs forgotten. I have to admit, very few people talk
about Yah here, but one of the reasons I came here was to find
something. I do not know what, really, but to hear you talk, I
honestly believe it is Yah that I wanted to find.
You are welcome to join us, says Jared.
The man stares out at the water. He has a magnificent view of
the Great Sea.
It is that water that made me stay, he says, after a moment
or two. It was so vast and grand, I suppose I mistook it for Yah.
Do you suppose we can know him through his creation?
Jared stares out at the ocean. It is a profound question.
No, he says, at last. He made the Great Sea just because he
is that way. But to know him we must meet him. My son Enoch
knew him.
Yet you came here to look for him, says the man shrewdly.
Jared nods.
I missed my opportunity. So, as you say, now I am here.
Trying to return to the Garden, the man muses. Yes, I
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think Harpatka may be able to help you. He has seen the world.
But his god is adventure, not Yah.
I think to know Yah is the greatest adventure of all, I say.
The man looks at me and nods slowly.
You could be right. But to whom does Yah grant that
adventure?
I have ceased to ask that question, says Jared. I only know
that I must pursue him or die in the attempt. Life is meaningless,
otherwise. He glances at me. My wife and I have seen a lot and
heard a lot, but none of it is of any value to me unless I see Yah
and hear his voice. If he is the last sight I see and the last thing I
hear, so be it.
The man grins at us.
Your devotion is commendable and you almost had me
convinced. But I think I cannot travel as far as you are willing to.
He looks back out at his spectacular view. I have my sea and I
think that will be all of Yah I ever know.
We part on good terms, promising to come back in the
evening.
The Great Sea is too tantalizing to just return to our room.
Today I feel as if I have seen my husband's heart. I take his hand
and we watch the scene in silence. Again, activity is everywhere as
crates and baskets and casks and huge clay jars are loaded and
unloaded from ships by muscular men.
Jared suggests we stroll along the pathway by the docks again.
When we arrive at the rocks where we sat the first night, we
discover that, by day, the sea is for swimming in. The water is
filled with bathers who are splashing around, although some of
them, further out, are doing strokes with their arms that keep
them above water. I have seen swimmers on the river, but these
ones seem braver to me. The river has the comfort of a shore on
either side.
We walk even further until we come to a quiet spot and once
again, just sit and watch the waves on the water. It is both
soothing and mesmerizing, like watching the flames of a fire.
There is randomness and yet, an unseen hand controls it. This
vast, mighty sea has its boundaries set in place by Yah.
When the sun starts to drop to the horizon, we return along
the water's edge to the tavern.
The tavern owner greets us with a smile and nods his head
330
slightly toward an older man sitting at the end of one of the long
tables.
We sit beside him.
Buy you a beer, my friend? says Jared.
Harpatka looks surprised.
I do not usually get such an offer. But I will not say no.
Jared smiles.
I have an ulterior motive.
Everyone does, says Harpatka, draining his mug. A woman
who puts me in mind of Mara comes to our end of the table to
see if we want anything. Jared orders beer and potatoes and
onions for all of us. Harpatka looks impressed with this act of
generosity.
We are looking for the point where the four great rivers
meet, says Jared, not wasting any time.
Harpatka looks amused.
And you thought that I would know of such a point?
Jared nods.
I do not know who you have talked to . . . I am expecting
him to tell us that we have been misinformed and am surprised
when he finishes by saying, . . . but you have come to the right
man.
Then you do know? says Jared, eagerly.
Oh yes, says Harpatka, nodding. In my younger days I did
a lot of travelling. It is one of the many sights I have seen and a
mighty sight it is.
The woman returns with our drinks and food.
Would you be able to take us there? Jared asks as Harpatka
downs half his mug before it even makes it to the table.
Harpatka shakes his head.
Only a fool would go there.
What do you mean?
It is death. We wait for him to explain.
I only narrowly escaped dying there myself. There was a time
when we could navigate it. Not that there was any good reason to
do so, just the thrill of passing Eden . . .
Jared grips my hand.
And some of the animals still live there, continues Harpatka.
It was a good place to get animal hides too, when they came
down to the water. But it was a bit of a wild place. We always
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came in on the Gihon. A choppy, white river . . .
I can tell that my husband is eager to ask questions but is
masterfully restraining himself as Harpatka seems lost in his own
thoughts.
And then, one day, says Harpatka, his eyes on his mug. A
few of us spotted some zebras in the woods, along the shore of
the Pishon. Now, at that time, no one knew of zebras. Horses, of
course, but not zebras. We all agreed that if we had some of
those hides, the coins would fill our pockets to overflowing. But
the creatures saw us and they began to gallop along the banks of
the river. The wind was with us and we pursued them until they
were tired and paused to drink.
Jared nods understandingly.
We were all pretty good with a bow and arrow, but the water
had become too choppy to take careful aim so there was fear that
we would miss. We agreed that we would shoot from the shore,
rather than the boat. The only question was, how to retrieve the
hides? We were now within a bow's shot away from where the
four rivers turn into one. One of the more brave sailors
suggested going to the point where the rivers meet and then
coming upstream on the Pishon, before returning to pick us up.
Naturally, for a feat like that, we would all share in the profits.
More nodding on our part.
We took our position behind some bushes and waited.
Harpatka's eyes are on the wall but in his mind he is back along
the banks of the Gihon. The boat carried on. It had never gone
that far before. It was a matter of pride to always go past the
entrance of the Garden. You always got a glimpse of the
cherubim guarding the entrance to the Garden on the east side
and it was a fearful sight. None of us would admit it, but it was.
Almost looking at the thing made my knees go weak. I cannot
imagine what the experience would be to face that thing head on.
But we were men and we proved ourselves by turning the boat
around at that very point where you could see the terrifying light
that the heavenly creature gave off. This was the only day we
went further.
I look at Jared. His eyes are wide, no doubt, as wide as mine
are.
At first, my eyes were on the zebra. But then we began to
realize that something had gone wrong for our men on the boat.
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Very wrong. The boat wasn't turning around, it was twirling
around and the men on board were helpless to do anything about
it. We watched with increasing concern. We stood up, forgetting
about the zebra. But there was nothing we could do to help. We
watched in horror as the boat turned faster and faster until finally
it was sucked right into the great river.
Harpatka drains his mug and stares into his empty cup. Jared
quickly hands him his own untouched mug and Harpatka begins
sipping it without even looking at Jared.
All around us, the tavern is bustling with rowdy patrons. Like
the tavern that Mara lives in, this one also has women and private
rooms. The patrons enjoy calling out lewd remarks to any man
going off to one of them. But at our little end of the table, it is
quiet.
I do not think any boat has returned to the spot, says
Harpatka, at long last. We spread the word, of course. It took us
about one full turn of the moon to get back to a point where a
boat could pick us up. Even in those days, very few people went
that way, except a few crazy adventurers like ourselves. Eden is
probably a trader's paradise if one could get past that cherubim.
But no one has tried, as far as I know.
Again, we fall to silence. It is Jared who breaks it this time.
Would you be able to make a map of how to get to that
point?
Of course, says Harpatka. He glances at us shrewdly. I am
a little behind on my rent. It would be helpful if I could pay up til
next year. I work down by the docks but my back has been giving
me trouble and I would not mind taking a rest.
And how much rent would we be talking about? asks Jared.
Harpatka thinks for a bit and decides that two pieces of silver
would give him a nice long vacation from the docks.
Jared does not look annoyed at this extravagant request.
That is acceptable, he says. If you make the map, we will
return tomorrow with the two pieces of silver.
I admire the wisdom of my husband. He has all our money in
a hidden pouch, but it would not be prudent to pull it out in this
rough environment and even if he did, we would not have a map.
Harpatka agrees to meet us tomorrow at the same time.
Jared and I set out, in the breezy night air, for our room. I
breathe a prayer to Yah for protection, both now and in the days
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to come. A whirlpool! What sailor is going to risk his life, and his
boat, on a journey to Eden?
Jared is thinking the same thing.
We will need a small boat, he says.
I smile in the darkness and reach for his hand.
Are we sailors now?
I see him nod.
Now we just need a map.

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Chapter Thirty Seven
xcept that Harpatka does not appear the next night.
Or the night after.
We ask the tavern owner if he has any idea where the
older man might be, but he just shrugs, not interested. We even
go back to Mara's tavern. But she has not seen him.
If you do, send him my way, she says with a wink.
When he does not appear at the tavern the third night, Jared
and I have to conclude that we probably will not see him again.
We have also had morning coffee and bread every morning at the
same establishment, but the woman's husband has not returned
and she is grim.
He does this some time. He could be as far as Enoch by
now.
Well, that is that then, I say, back in our room. No map.
Not necessarily, says Jared, pulling out the map that he put
together on the trader's boat. I was assuming that the coast runs
from north to south. We are here. He points. But I have been
thinking of this logically. The Pishon runs into the Great Sea.
That is what made me think that this must also be close to the
point where the four rivers meet. But what if . . .
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He runs his finger north of where we are, and then slides it
east.
What if the coast turns this way?
I am paying close attention now.
It would be the only way, I say slowly.
He nods.
If the Pishon joins up with the other rivers, it would have to
do so at some point far east of here, some point in our travels
that we have not visited. Therefore, the coast must turn at some
point . . .
Now it is my finger that is tracing that speculative route of a
coastline that turns rather than continuing straight.
So we can do this, I say, looking up at Jared. But why go
north? Why not go south and then east?
Jared shrugs.
We are south and yet I have never heard of anyone who has
seen Eden, or even mentioned passing near it.
I nod.
That makes sense. So we will go up the coast then, I muse,
still staring at the map.
We will avoid the whirlpool that way, says Jared. And we
will be most cautious.
It is a good thing we talked to Harpatka, I say, or we could
have easily decided to navigate the one river, rather than return
home down the coast.
Jared is silent. Perhaps he has no intention of returning home.
But, in any case, the next few days are too busy for us to think
about home.
We go back to the boatyard and the manager is pleased to see
us. We tell him we want to do some sailing on the Great Sea, but
do not need anything large as it is just the two of us.
What adventurers! he says with approval. I rather doubt he
has ever been on the water himself, but he proves himself worthy
by showing us a small boat that he acquired in a wager. It has
both a sail and a rudder to steer it.
You would have to use the oars if the winds were against
you, he says, looking at us with doubt. Perhaps we do not look
strong enough to row. He does not know how many trees Jared
has felled and split into firewood, nor the number of hours I
have worked in my garden and courtyard.
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I never cared for this boat, says the trader turning back to
the boat. But it was either that or sell the man into slavery to get
my money. And I am not a harsh man. He beams at us. I will
give it to you for five pieces of silver, which is what the man
owed me. And for an extra piece of silver, he adds, I can have
my men go over it and make sure it is seaworthy.
That seems like a good investment, so we leave our boat with
him and promise to return the next day for it.
The remainder of the day is spent purchasing supplies from
the market, dried fruit and oil and flour and whatever else we can
find that will hold up to a long journey. We will certainly not be
able to prepare any food in our small boat, so we will be going
ashore anytime we want to make a fire, or even sleep for that
matter.
Unlike Harpatka, the owner of our boat is trustworthy and we
return the next day to find it ready to go. He tells us that his
boatyard has a dock, number 157, and if we carry the boat down
to there, we can use it to load our supplies.
We thank him and two men help us to turn the boat upside
down so that we can carry it ourselves, on our shoulders. Among
the settlements of Seth, we would be a strange sight moving
through the streets like this, but this is a city devoted to sailors
and boats so we do not cause anyone to take even a second
glance at us.
By midday, we are loaded and ready to go. Having never sailed
on our own, it is a matter of trial and error. In order to navigate
these heavily populated waters, we start with me at the rudder
and Jared with the oars. Thankfully, dock number 157 is on the
north side of the city and very few people, if any, go in the
direction that we are headed. Everyone either goes south, where
it is heavily populated with villages, or down the Pishon.
Just the fact that very few people built settlements on the
north side of the Pishon makes me wonder, says Jared, who has
turned his attention to the sails. There must be a reason, even if
it has long since been forgotten.
He licks a finger and holds it up to the wind, then sighs.
The wind is against us, I am afraid. It looks like it will be the
oars for us.
Jared arranges two sacks of potatoes on either side of the
rudder to keep it in place, while we each take an oar. At least it is
338
calm along the coast. I would not want to venture out too far
though. Who knows what the water is like past the horizon?
After years of working separately, it feels right that Jared and I
should now be doing something together. We get a rhythm of
rowing going and then we talk. There are new sights different
trees and bushes, even some animals we have never seen before.
As the sun gets lower on the horizon, Jared is keeping an eye on
the shore for a place for us to land and spend the night. Finally, at
twilight, he sees a cove. Most of the shore is rocky, but here, the
rock has been ground down into fine sand and we can just drift
right into it without doing damage to the bottom of our boat.
How far inland should we go? asks Jared, grinning.
Our boat is safely on the sand and I am going through it to
see what to have for dinner.
I turn to look at him.
We passed a settlement of some sort about an hour ago and
since then I have not seen a single person on the shore. But we
did see some animals that I would not want to encounter. Adam
might be able to tame a lion but I am not so sure that Jared and I
would be naturals at calming the beasts with our words. Still, God
gave Adam and his children dominion over the animals.
I grin back.
I am willing to go as far as you are.
I call his bluff. After collecting some fallen branches for our
evening fire, Jared is content to get comfortable on the sand. I
roast some potatoes. We brought freshwater along with us, but
we will have to keep our eyes open for rivers that run into the sea
so we can replenish our supply.
We stretch out on the sand, with me using Jared's chest as a
cushion. He is soon asleep but I find it difficult to sleep. It is not
just the discomfort of the ground, or even the real or imaginary
sounds coming from the forest. It is more a matter of not
knowing where this is going to end. I would be content to find
Yah in our own forest, but perhaps Jared is right. Perhaps we
must go further now to find Yah. Though my mind is prepared
to stay up late into the night mulling these things over, my body is
exhausted and sleep comes.
I awake to a small bear licking my face. My scream wakes Jared
and the creature runs into the woods.
I am sorry, I say, now almost laughing as I wipe my face.
339
He startled me. Such an odd little bear. He had black circles
around his eyes, like a mask.
We boil water for tea and eat some of our bread before
starting out again. I feel stiff and sore but soon we are both
pulling in rhythm and making good progress.
We pass a settlement but do not stop.
Perhaps we should stock up on more supplies, I say, turning
around.
I imagine they are self-sufficient and not used to traders,
says Jared. We have not passed any other boats since the
Pishon.
That night we make camp in a small grassy patch by the
water's edge. It has the advantage of a small stream running into
the sea.
I want to conserve our supplies and move into the forested
area to look for something edible. A line of acacia trees are
growing near the edge of the forest. I harvest some of their
pods.
I think you worry too much, Baraka, says Jared, following
me, no doubt to protect me from small masked bears.
I nod in the dim light.
I probably do, I say. It is one of my few faults. No dear,
that one is poisonous. Jared has selected a particularly lovely
large mushroom. Nava learnt that the hard way and Edna and I
had to purge her with mustard to get it out of her system.
Jared tosses the mushroom back down on the ground. I hand
him my basket and he holds it as I fill it with herbs and edible
mushrooms.
Oh good, I say, as we encounter an almond tree. The rest of
my basket is filled with as much of the fruit as we can reach on
the ground. We will save these.
We head back to our spot by the stream.
I mix some of the rice in with a stew of mushrooms and
herbs and acacia pods.
Sleep comes easily after a hard day of rowing, with only the
light of the moon and stars to illuminate. No animal disturbs my
sleep tonight, but I am well aware that they are in the forest,
moving around its edges. Our fire is the only deterrent to them
coming any closer to us.

340
I was not aware the earth was so large, says Jared. We have
been rowing or sailing, depending on the wind, for three weeks
now. There have been no more settlements. Right now we are
taking turns rubbing each other's stiff shoulders.
At least your theory that the shore curves east was proven
right, I say.
Jared groans, as I massage his aching muscles.
It certainly appears that way, yes. Though we would need a
bird's view to be sure.
I nod.
I had thought that we would encounter the Great River in our
first week, thinking back to the time when Father Adam and
Mother Eve were expelled from their first home. I doubt they
travelled any further than a week. But now I am realizing that the
settlement I visited was probably not their first home outside of
Eden. My theory is that they moved on when Cain did. After all,
I never saw any kind of marker to indicate the burial site of Abel
when I was there.
Perhaps it is the memory of this first murder that makes this
land undesirable to settle in.
We are in desperate need of fresh water so my mind
continually dwells on the hope of the Great River. Tonight, what
has saved us from despair is the discovery of a cucumber vine
growing near the edge of the shore. Jared and I devoured three
cucumbers each in our thirst. Tomorrow, before we set out, I will
harvest the rest for eating in the boat.
I have been a fool, Jared says the next day. The sun is high
above, we are down to our last cucumber each. There is no river
flowing into the sea.
I shake my head as we continue to row. Today, the air is still
and sailing is impossible.
Pursuing Yah is not foolish.
I am dragging you to your death, says Jared.
I came along willingly.
You are a mother. You should be home with your children.
My children stopped needing me years ago.
Jared sighs and pauses to rub his eyes. I take a break too.
Oh Baraka, I will not . . .
I do not know what he is going to say because suddenly, I hear
a noise. It is distant. I would not have heard it except that we
341
stopped rowing. The coast takes a sharp curve so we cannot see
what is ahead. But I can hear it.
So can Jared.
His eyes light up and there is new life in him. He does not
have to tell me to row. We just both start and do not stop until we
have made it around the bend.
There, an awesome sight is waiting for us. It is the majesty of
one river pouring into the sea a river that is wider than the
Pishon, Gihon, Tigris and Euphrates all combined together.
We will be pushed out to sea! murmurs Jared.
Already, the force of the river is carrying us out further from
the shore. With all our strength, we row against it and manage to
make it to the water's edge. Jared uses his final bit of strength to
haul our boat up with us onto the dry land.
Then, with the sound of rushing waters so close by, we both
fall onto the ground, exhausted.

I move first and look over at Jared. Reaching for his hand, I
move closer to him and in his half-asleep state, he puts an arm
around me.
We made it, I whisper.
We did, he whispers.
Slowly, we sit up and look at where we are. The river is
terrifying. Where it meets the sea, it is frothing and foaming. I can
see why only the adventurers chose to come this way, while the
traders who wanted to come back alive did not take a scenic
detour to Eden.
But how do we get across? The side we are on is not
Paradise. In fact, there is a thorn bush a few feet from my head.
Jared stands up and looks inland at the raging river.
We will walk down the bank, he said. There will be a place
to cross . . . But he sounds doubtful.
I stand up and join him.
As long as we avoid the whirlpool, I say.
We will, he says, starting to pack up our small camp. We
will have to carry everything. So hopefully it will not be a long
trek.
But it is a long trek. And as we struggle under the load of our
boat, the Garden is on the other side. The plants are lush,
overgrown, and my impression is they are more vibrant in colour
342
than what we have in the fallen world.
Jared is also captivated by the Garden. His eyes do not leave it.
We stop occasionally so that Jared can toss a stick into the river.
The stick gets carried away by the water and does not disappear
into a whirlpool so we know we have not passed it yet.
But when we do encounter the whirlpool, we need no stick to
tell us that this is the spot where Harpatka witnessed the demise
of his fellow-adventurers.
We put down our boat and stare in awe.
I have never seen anything like that, says Jared. It sounds
like a whisper but he has had to shout to be heard. The waters
swirl at the point where the one river turns into four.
Cautiously, I step back further from the bank. No one would
survive such a force should they have the misfortune to lose their
footing and fall into the water.
Perhaps we will be able to cross one of the rivers, says
Jared, looking further inland. But immediately we see the
problem. The rivers go in different directions. The most natural
course for us to take is to follow along the banks of the one
closest to us, the most southern one. In fact, its shore and the
shore of the one river are the same. We would have to walk quite
a distance before we could cross it because it is still a raging river
in its own right. But crossing over the smaller river will not bring
us to the Garden, only to more land and the second river. We will
end up having to cross all four rivers in order to get across to
Paradise.
It is not an easy undertaking, I say.
It makes me wonder if Yah has intentionally put this
whirlpool here as a deterrent. And what more obstacles await us
if we choose to continue?
I look across at the Garden. It is only the outer edges of it,
but it is different from the land surrounding it. Longing overtakes
me. It is not the effortless greenery, as much as it is the presence
of Yah. Does Yah still inhabit this one piece of His perfect
creation?
Jared looks down at the boat.
Let us leave this here and walk on until we know what to do.
I am happy to leave behind this burden. We have no more
supplies, so we will be able to walk completely unencumbered.
343
Able to move faster now, we walk for an hour, maybe two.
And then there is a flash of light on the other side. It pierces
my heart and I grab Jared's hand. Wordlessly, I point. But he has
seen it already.
It is only a glimpse of light, but I feel terror. Not the terror of
Samjaza's fingers around my throat. This is a different sensation,
one of holy terror and awe.
Jared hesitates. Part of him wants to get closer, part of him
wants to run.
Harpatka saw the being and survived, he says to himself.
But we cannot see it, I say. We are not close enough. We
have the disadvantage of being on the river that is furthest from
the Garden.
There must be a way to get closer . . . says Jared, looking
around.
For my part, I do not need to see the heavenly being. But
Jared does. He has now turned away from the river and is
examining some of the tall trees that run along the edge of the
forest.
Surely not . . . I begin.
I know I am not as young as I once was, says Jared, already
reaching up for a low branch to pull himself up onto. From there
he moves up with surprising speed, driven by eagerness to see the
entranceway to the Garden. I stand below and watch him. He
reaches a sturdy branch and uses it as a ledge. I am expecting him
to call down a report, but he does not. He just stares and stares at
a fixed point.
There is a loud roar that fills the sky. I jump and Jared grips
the trunk of the tree. I scan the sky for signs of a flying lizard or
any other menacing creature. Then I look back up at Jared.
Jared is scanning the whole area. Then he comes down a lot
slower than he went up, looking pale and weakened.
He sits right down on the ground and I join him.
It takes a few minutes before he can speak.
Such a thing I have never seen, he says finally.
Tell me! I say eagerly.
Such a face. Jared just shakes his head. And not just one,
but from what I could tell, four faces! All of them different.
How could this be?
Jared has to think before answering.
344
One was a face unlike any I have ever seen. Then there was a
second face, more human. Then a third like a lion.
I think of Adam's pet, Ariel.
The fourth was more like, well, like an eagle.
He looks down at me and nods.
It is incredible, is it not? And the creature had wings.
What was that noise? I say.
That was the creature moving his wings. I think he was
looking at me.
I stare across the river, though I can see nothing except the
water and the green.
I was terrified, says Jared. But I had to see the Garden. So I
looked. I thought it might cost me my life. He takes my hand.
But I had to see it.
I nod.
And what did you see? I ask softly.
Paradise, he whispers.
I sit and say nothing.
My husband has risked all for his one look of what Man has
lost. I will not pry and tear the memory from him. He is just
staring at the mighty river with unseeing eyes.
Perhaps this is the closest we will get, says Jared at last,
sounding almost normal. I am fine with that. This is not my
journey. This is his. I have felt Yah's presence in our very woods
at home. I long, just the same, for this Garden, but do not know
if Yah would ever let us see more than what we are looking at
now.
Life is on the other side of that river, says Jared. But
Harpatka is right. Certain death is in front of us.
We continue walking, following the bank of the southern-
most river. But it will not take us closer to the Garden, only
further if we keep following it.
Like Harpatka, we can see some wonderful creatures emerge
from the foliage of the Garden. The enormous grey creatures
with huge ears, long white tusks and noses that look like hoses.
Large cats like Ariel but with stripes. Brown bears that would
tower over us if we were beside them. Now I am glad there is a
river between us. The creatures come to the edge of the Gihon
for a drink before ambling back to their refuge. For surely, there
345
is no safer home for an animal than this Garden.
But we are no closer to Paradise on this side of the river.
We will return, says Jared. And so we go back, tightly
holding hands as we pass the flash of light.
After a couple of hours, we are back to the whirlpool and our
boat.
Jared sits down in the dirt on the edge of the forest. If we had
been on the other side of the river, we would have verdant grass
to lounge on.
This is where Yah has put the obstacle, so this is where we
will stay? I say to him.
Something like that, says Jared, half-smiling. He detects the
amusement in my voice. I still have not seen Yah.
Yah does not appear to us, but there is enough to keep our
minds occupied. Birds swoop down from the tall trees of the
garden colourful, exotic creatures that I have never seen before.
As far as I can tell, they fly for the sheer joy of it. No doubt, the
Garden provides them with their food and they are spared the
hunt for insects and seeds that occupy the birds outside of
Paradise.
It is not until nighttime that I have my encounter with the
Divine.

346

347
Chapter Thirty Eight
araka! Baraka! It is a whisper. I look around.
We drifted off to sleep, not easy with a swirling
whirlpool nearby and nothing to eat. I fell asleep
practically in the forest, having no desire to accidentally roll into
the river in the night. But Jared chose to stay closer to the shore.
He stayed up later than me too, tending the fire, his eyes on the
Garden across the river, watching and waiting.
By the light of the remaining embers, I can see he is still there,
now stretched out sleeping.
A rustling in the trees makes me look up.
Baraka.
The voice is in my heart, not in my ears.
Yes, Yah? I whisper.
Go home. It is a gentle admonition and I do not get the
sense that it is due to any urgency back home, only that what we
are seeking is not here.
Yes, Yah, I whisper.
The rustling in the trees dies away. The night is still.
I crawl to where Jared is sleeping and shake him awake.
What! He sits straight up. Did you see something?
B
348
No, I say. I heard something.
It was just an animal, Jared murmurs, lying back down,
obviously tired. Sleep here by me, Baraka, if you are afraid. Do
not worry so much.
I sigh.
The message from Yah was for me, not for Jared.
I try to get comfortable on the ground, but sleep does not
come easily. Will I turn around and go home by myself
tomorrow? I suppose I will have to. Jared may be prepared to
remain here on the riverbank for the rest of his life.
The next morning, I do not know how I am going to present
the idea to Jared that I am going home.
We are sitting by the cold fire. There is no food to merit
starting it again. Water is not a problem though. Jared has bravely
gone to the shore and scooped us out enough to quench our
thirst. There is even some leftover to cook something in, if we
had anything to cook.
I stand up to go forage in the forest. Jared stays by the
riverside, moodily staring across at the inaccessible Garden.
This forest does not offer anything edible near its edges. It is
unusual for a forest. Usually, you can expect the sun-loving plants
near the boundaries to yield some fruit.
I go deeper into the forest. There is not even a mushroom on
the floor. My eyes are scanning everywhere. But, though there are
trees and growth, there are no seeds, no fruit.
I ponder this. And then it occurs to me with stunning clarity
that this must have once been part of the Garden too. The
manuscript my father carried said that the four rivers flowed
from the Garden. But today, my search for food, for seeds of life,
has shown one thing, that the Garden is dying. Though it may
offer shelter on this side of the river, it no longer rejuvenates
itself. In time, all life here will simply die.
Returning to Jared, I report the interesting phenomenon that
although there be an abundance of plants, they do not contain
any seeds for me to glean.
He looks up.
That is ridiculous, Baraka, he says. It is the first time he has
questioned my judgement on such a matter. I have fed him now
for hundreds of years so I feel confident in my abilities, even if
Jared does not at this moment.
Chapter Thirty Eight
349
I shrug. Jared stands and goes into the forest with me right
behind him.
What about that one? He points.
It is poisonous.
Look! A raspberry bush!
It has no fruit.
Are those not asparagus?
They are ferns. Alas, not one of the edible kinds.
Finally, Jared has to admit we are defeated. We will starve if
we stay.
Well, that is that, says Jared. Home it is.
And so, with one final longing look at the part of the Garden
that is still fertile, we pick up our boat and carry it along the
river's edge.
Our first task when we reach the Great Sea is to find
something to eat.
Back to the mundane, says Jared, as we forage along the
shore. The world of mortals. Dust we are and to dust we shall
return.
I smile sympathetically. There are tears in my eyes. It could be
the salty water or it could be the failure of finding our Tree of
Life.
There is plantain, as well as some kelp, for our late morning
meal.
We eat it in silence. Shared experiences have always brought us
closer together, but it is a sharing of sorrow. What joy we would
have shared had we succeeded! But I cannot dwell too much on
the possibilities of what we missed. Yah has spoken to me and
shown me that our home is among the sons of Seth.

350

351
Epilogue
1422 years after Creation

ared was 830-years-old when his father, Mahalalel, died.
I think, in a way, Jared died that day too. He never found
pleasure in being the oldest of the sons of Seth. For him, it
was just a reminder that life was ebbing away.
Today, Noah turned 365. He reminds me so much of my son
at that age, a man who seeks after Yah. A sense of tranquility
surrounds him. Yet, I do not think it is Yah's intention to carry
him away as he did Enoch.
There is no reason to celebrate Noah's day of birth. Birthdays
come and go. It is a private matter in my heart, to observe the
birthday of my eldest son's great-grandson and to watch him as
he goes about his life. In the last few years, we have journeyed
often to his settlement. It is still just him and Emzara. Yah has
not blessed them with children, but I am sure he has his reasons.
But on this day of Noah's birth, everyone in our settlement,
including Noah and Emzara, is gathered in my home. Jared is in
bed.
It is such an unusual event. My husband has complained of
J
352
aches and pains, but he has never taken to his bed like this. He is
962-years-old and he has no illusions about his situation.
I am dying, Baraka, he says simply. I sit by his bedside
holding his hand.
I nod, anticipating the people that will be arriving soon from
the other settlements to say their goodbyes, once the news goes
out. I barely have the strength to receive them myself.
Then Jared makes a surprising recovery. The next day, Noah
and Emzara help him downstairs and he sits in one of the chairs
he has made so long ago. Emzara will not let me into my own
courtyard to make tea. She has been a delight these last couple of
days, preparing all the meals and letting me sit by my husband.
But I am numb. I have been with Jared too long to be able to
imagine life without him.
Methuselah and Lamech and Noah are all in the sitting room.
Soon, Methuselah will be the patriarch of the sons of Seth. If
there is any wisdom to pass onto him, the time has passed. My
husband sits quietly while the others talk. We are joined by
Rasujal and Pyramides who arrive together, without their families.
All their children were here yesterday to kiss Jared's forehead and
mutter their goodbyes. Jared's two sons pull chairs up to be closer
to their father. I can see the concern in their eyes. They are old
themselves, but they did not have to think about it until this
moment. Not only will they lose their father soon, they will join
the oldest generation.
But even more than that, I can see the sorrow in their eyes,
the sense of lost opportunities. I almost start to weep at the
softened hearts.
Kalah also arrives alone and comes over to kiss her father on
the cheek. She seems to forget about me. I think they all just take
it for granted that Mother will carry on as usual. But within, my
heart is failing.
Kalah joins Emzara in the courtyard and soon they are
returning with a tray of tea.
The conversation is gently and meandering.
In the final days of Jared's life, they do not discuss the ever-
increasing violence in the world or any pending judgement.
Instead, they talk about everyday matters. Rasujal asks Noah
about his grapes and there is a conversation about the upcoming
harvest.
Epilogue
353
The earth is full of Yah's steadfast love, says Jared suddenly.
There is a murmur of agreement among the men, even from
Rasujal and Pyramides.
When I was younger, Jared continues. I did not see that.
But I see it now. It is everywhere.
True, true, the men agree, nodding.
His mercy will surely prevail, Jared whispers. Respectfully,
they wait for him to continue, but that is all he has to say.
Then the conversation returns to life around the settlement.
At this point, I excuse myself, saying I am tired.
Respectfully, the men, even Jared, rise as I leave the room.
It is not until I am upstairs, stretched out on my bed, that I
begin to weep.
I weep for my firstborn son, my precious son, who I have not
seen for 435 years. I weep for the world that has become so
wicked and for my kind husband who is dying. But most of all, I
weep for Yah, who I have not encountered since that night across
from the Garden.
I think it is time to sleep. Noah has given me hope, but still, I
am tired. It is time to rest now. Before he was taken, Enoch knew
his time had come. I have the same premonition. One last prayer
and then I will close my eyes.
Oh Yah! I whisper. Come soon. Come soon.

THE END

Author's Note:

Controversy surrounds the Nephilim. All that is really known
is that the Nephilim were giants. They reappear after the flood of
Noah, in the land of Canaan, when the Israelite spies report that
they saw the Nephilim the sons of Anak, who come from the
Nephilim and we seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers and so
we seemed to them. (Numbers 13:33)
But were they the children of the union of the sons of God
and the daughters of men in Genesis 6:4? I chose to interpret the
passage as, yes, they were. The controversy is really centred
around the term, sons of God. In other passages in the Old
Testament, this term is used to describe angels. Some people have
preferred to understand the Genesis passage to mean that royalty
was attracted to the daughters of men, or even that the sons of
Seth took wives among the daughters of Cain. I don't think this
is consistent with the Hebrew and so chose the more sensational
interpretation that angels and women produced a race of giants.
The apocryphal book of Enoch (quoted in Jude 14-15)
supports this idea too.
The New Testament offers interesting insights into the topic.
First Peter 3:18-20 and 2 Peter 2:4-5 indicate that some of the
angels sinned at the time of Noah and were held in chains in
darkness until a time of judgement. Jesus says in Luke 20:35-36
that angels do not marry which would explain why it was
considered a sin for them to do so.
In Joshua 15: 14, three of the descendants of Anak were
driven out of Hebron by Caleb, an event that is also referred to
in Judges 1:20. This is the last we hear of the enigmatic
Nephilim.

Other novels by Jennifer L Armstrong

The society for the betterment of mankind
Revolution in C Minor
Pink gin
Somewhere between Longview and Miami
Last king of Damascus
The Unlikely Association of Meg and Harry
Death Among the Dinosaurs
Prophet
A Good Man

The Kent famil y adventures

The Treasure of Tadmor
The Strange sketch of Sutton
The Hunt for the cave of Moravia
The Search for the sword of Goliath
The Buried gold of Shechem
The Cache of Baghdad
The Walls of Jerusalem
The Missionarys Diary

Non-fiction by Jennifer L. Armstrong

Dreaming in Arabic (A non-fiction narrative)

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