The wipers fought to clear the water from the windshield, but it was a losing battle. The rain would not stop, and Jake drove fast, too fast for the sloppy roads.

So he didn’t make it by midnight! What the hell! Right? Surely, his father had nothing THAT urgent! Like what was Jake missing, a family party? Sibling banter? Scrabble? Nothing new! Still, the nagging doubt persisted, and even though he tried to convince himself there was no hurry, Jake’s foot pressed harder on the accelerator.

He turned off the highway and headed toward his dad’s place. The road was graveled all the way. It usually stood up well under rain, but this rain was different. He hurried onward. Familiar landmarks always looked strange at night, but he knew where he was going. The road wound back between the timbered hillsides. The twin headlight beams probed the dark tree trunks and underbrush as the truck took the curves, picking out stumps, fallen logs and creeks that, usually dry, were now swollen bank full. Everything was dark and dripping.

With Carol Ann gone, Jake had plenty of time to think while he drove, and he began sifting through things that he kept in the back of his brain because he was not sure what else to do with them, mainly all the stuff his father had been studying the last few years. Normally, Jake dismissed that stuff as interesting but harmless, but in light of the midnight ultimatum thing, he got them back out for another look. Jake’s father always kept busy with something, reading, research, meditation, whatever, and it was the whatever that bothered Jake the most.

A lot of it was okay, especially the meditation. That was one thing Jake had learned from his father, one thing that in fact kept him going. The best part of Jake’s day was when he emptied his mind and thought of nothing. Finding the brain’s off switch and actually turning off the incessant chatter was not an easy thing, but if you could manage a few minutes, even seconds, and enter the silence, the peace was incredible.

His father studied a lot of ancient earth stuff, and that was okay too, stuff that seemed random at first, but upon closer inspection painted a broader picture. Jake found a lot of it fascinating. Part of his dad’s research was studying anomalies from around the world that could not be squeezed into the tight framework of Western Judeo-Christian history, especially since the end of the last Ice Age.

Things like human skeletal remains ten feet tall found in parts of the upper central United States which carbon dated to be ten thousand years old. Where did giants come from?

Mayan remains discovered in Florida. The Mayans were supposed to be in Mexico. Why Florida? And then the entire Mayan population flourished, and then didn’t. They just disappeared. Why?

There were stories of entire continents, Lemuria and Atlantis, that sank beneath rising seas, broke apart through cataclysms, or both. Were there remains, and if so, where? Scholars wouldn’t even know about these places if not for myths passed down orally by the earth’s oldest remaining cultures, and for surviving writings by Greek philosophers. The real evidence probably went up in flames when the Christians burned the ancient library at Alexandria.

Or perhaps the best evidence of lost civilizations was found in other parts of the earth. Perhaps the most compelling proof of Atlantis and Lemuria could never be destroyed by those wanting to erase history, and could be traced to fledgling cultures that suddenly exploded into advanced ones, places like Sumeria, Egypt, Mexico and Peru, places where migrant people fleeing global catastrophes might have gone for refuge, taking their higher technologies and more evolved sciences with them.

Another possibility could be that researchers were not looking in the right locations for these vanished civilizations. Perhaps the evidence for their existence was not where it should be at all, but somewhere entirely off the radar.

Jake’s father spoke of a theory called Earth’s Crust Displacement, which gained credibility when Albert Einstein thought it to be quite plausible. According to the Theory, when subjected to enormous tensions from inertia and gravity, the top layers of the earth’s crust broke loose and shifted atop the underlying mantle, moving the surface of the earth intact and relocating it many hundreds of miles away, probably to the south, and, in the process, creating incredible earthquakes, and tsunami waves hundreds of feet in height, that would either topple entire civilizations, or wash over anything in their paths. The phenomenon occurred when the sun reached the furthest point in its own elliptical orbit and turned the corner, so to speak, taking its orbiting planets with it, and placing extreme gravitational pulls on them in an archetypal game of crack the whip. That happened approximately every thirty-two thousand years, or at this point in time, maybe eighteen thousand years ago. Ancient myths described the stars falling from the sky, which is probably how the view of the heavens appeared as the surface of the earth shifted hundreds, maybe thousands of miles in an instant. Along with massive flooding of Biblical proportions, such a theory might explain the evidence of abrupt climate changes found by scientists in different parts of the world. Some researchers even surmise that Atlantis, said by Plato to be somewhere west of the Mediterranean, might now be under the Antarctic ice cap. The Crust Displacement Theory could also explain what caused or ended the Ice Ages, depending upon your location on the shifting crust.

All this was plausible, perhaps even possible. It was the stuff after that, his dad’s research into alien extra-terrestrial theories, that, for Jake, descended into varying depths of weirditude.

Some of it was okay, like cave drawings or depictions on canvas, wood or stone of beings in what appeared to be space suits or flying craft. In all fairness, the pictures looked an awful lot like space helmets and flying saucers, but it was difficult to tell today what the artists tried to convey thousands of years ago.

And what about all the gigantic monuments around the world? Jake’s father was into that big time. Who built them, and how? Furthermore, not only how, but why? Jake did not find the traditional explanations remotely believable. Ancient civilizations could not have done it with hordes of builders alone, rolling enormous stones on logs or whatever to get them into position. Modern technology would be hard pressed to do it. Arts of levitation seemed the best bet to Jake. And were these monuments all just burial places? That too seemed hard to believe.

Many origin myths from ancient civilizations around the world claimed that their first gods came from the stars. If so, did they go back? Maybe they never left and were still here. The Pleiades and the three stars in Orion’s belt came up often as places of origin for these “gods”, and that pattern of three recurred in ancient sites around the world, most notably in the great pyramids at Giza in Egypt. Maybe the structures were landmarks to guide returning space craft. And they were not just random piles of rocks, either. They were put together using the most advanced mathematical and astronomical principles. It was shades of Chariots Of The Gods.

Perhaps it was not all accomplished peacefully, either. There was soil content in parts of the world that could only be attributed to nuclear blasts. Stone Age civilizations that purportedly existed on earth did not have nuclear wars with each other. Jake’s father believed the combatants to be extra-terrestrial, and perhaps they were. But whether they were terrestrial with a high technology that evolved on this planet, or extra-terrestrial with a superiority that was brought here with them from the stars, a nuclear war was all the same, and it would make no difference to a Stone Age culture.

The weirdest of all, however, was the animal DNA research. That was the most recent kick, and the part of which Jake knew the least. Jake’s father got into that just in the last year or so, and Jake had no idea what it was all about. It didn’t really fit with any of the other stuff. It was off on a tangent. Why did he want to know about animal DNA? Jake couldn’t figure that one.

It all kept Jake’s head spinning as he drove the graveled road.  

Finally, Jake’s truck passed through his father’s open gate. Jake’s dad always left it open when he expected company. It seemed to beckon like waiting arms. The house was just around the driveway’s final bend. Then, perhaps it was the rain, perhaps the beer, perhaps Jake drove too fast, or maybe it was just too much distracted thinking, but the tires slid on the gravel, and Jake lost control of the pick-up. He tried to steer with the skid, whipping the wheel left and then right. He hit the brakes, but it was too late. The truck left the road and smashed into a big tree.

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________

Naked thighs sliding languorously over silken sheets. Impassioned voices caught in the throes of love softly sounding sighs and moans. Warm palms tracing circles on yielding flesh. Swollen nipples. Lonely rain drops spattering the window pane on the other side of the room, or the other side of the world, too far away to alarm, too close to comfort and soothe. Someone calling. Who? For whom? Stern old men with hoary hair and flowing robes, arms raised and staffs held high toward lightning-streaked heavens. Wordless warning. Running. Moving toward a bright light at the end of a long tunnel. Hurry. Too far. Too fast. Freely flowing, oozing. Salty taste.

 

Jake licked the corner of his mouth. Something warm and salty. He moved his fingers. His senses drained back to him. He opened his eyes. His head ached, and it occurred to him that he must have hit the steering wheel. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t still dreaming. He was not sure where he went while he was unconscious, but he felt like he had been somewhere. At least he felt the pain from where he pinched his arm. He licked again at the salty taste on his lips. It was still dark outside, so he had not been unconscious very long.

The trunk of the tree he hit stood halfway into the crumpled hood. One of the truck headlights was still on. It looked weak, but it shone past the tree and the wrecked hood, and through the pouring rain. There was some building out there that Jake had not seen before, maybe a new barn or something.

He took a flashlight from the glove compartment and got out of the truck. He walked around the back and shined the light down the road. The beam picked up ripples of water. He moved down closer, shining the light around. There shouldn’t have been water, but there was. It covered the road to the point where he stood, where the ground began to rise more sharply. The fence and gate were half submerged. The flashlight beam picked out the tops of trees, but it was all water as far as Jake could see! My God, he thought! This was massive! It was way more than the river being out of its banks. The dams upstream must have burst. It looked like a lake. The whole valley must be flooded.

He walked around in front of the truck to see the new building, looking it over in the flashlight beam, and what he saw stopped him in his tracks. It was no barn. It appeared to be some kind of a long, low boat, all built in with a flat bottom. It wasn’t huge, maybe the size of a long, two-story house boat. Jake’s light picked up the end of it near the edge of the water. There was something very strange about it, though. More than strange, it was creepy. The gnawing in Jake’s stomach that he had been feeling all night began turning into dread.

He ran to the house and looked in all the rooms. The electricity was out, so the only light came from his flashlight. Everything was in order, beds made, kitchen clean, things picked up and in their places. No people, though. His father’s desktop was bare of papers and letters, unlike its usual clutter. The tidiness seemed deliberate, final, and creepy like the boat. When Jake opened the back door, his flashlight picked up more water and half submerged trees, just like on the front side.

Jake searched for computers and cell phones, but as he feared, there was nothing. He kicked himself for forgetting his phone at Carol Ann’s. In his mind’s eye, he could see it on the nightstand.

Back out in the rain, Jake skirted around the boat or ark or whatever it was, examining it from different sides. When he got  close and walked around, it was bigger than it seemed at first, maybe a hundred feet long and thirty or forty wide. Definitely not big enough for all the animals. The thing about animal DNA came back to Jake. That would have been the thing, even for the Biblical ark. The Sunday School version of Noah and his family loading the pairs of animals was cute but stupid. There were no windows in the sides, and Jake could not see what it looked like on top. There was only the outline of a door painted with a black substance. He rubbed some of it between his thumb and forefinger. It was greasy, like tar or pitch, the kind used to make boats watertight.

“Dad!”

He whacked the side of the boat with his flashlight. No answer.

“Dad! Open up!”

For a moment, he panicked. He beat and kicked at the door, yelling to be heard. His imagination went wild leaping first to legends of a great flood and an ark that floated away to safety, then to lost civilizations sinking beneath the waves like Atlantis and Lemuria, and then to cycles of time that began and ended without a trace, save for incredible pyramids and gargantuan monuments. Finally, he just slumped against the door.

Drained of energy and emotion, he sat there in the pouring rain. What was the use? It was funny in a dark sort of way. He began turning the events of the entire night over in his mind. Either this was flooding that he would soon read about in the newspapers, or he had been out screwing around on the night that began the end of an eon.

There were different ways to look at it.

The best case would be to wake up in the morning with the rain stopped, the skies clearing and some neighbor calling him from a boat. His father would eventually come out and start putting his life back together. The other times when his dad had been laughing stock would pale in comparison to this one. The whole thing would probably make national news, the crazy old guy who thought he was Noah. Jake might even go on all the late night talk shows with his own story. He would never live it down with Carol Ann, but so what? It would bring a book deal with big bucks. Jake would be rich. He could move far away, live wherever he wanted.

He could even have his own version of the ark. It was called a YACHT! Jake Noah, they would call him. He would paint it on the back of his boat. The late night hosts would take it and run with it.

No, wait, wait. Jake of Ark. Oh yeh! Jake of Ark! That rocked! Jake would be famous all over the world! He could see himself doing all the exotic places–the Riviera, Monaco, Rio, Hong Kong. There was no end. Who wouldn’t want to party with Jake of Ark? Australia! The Aussies love to party! He could party all over the world!

Jake might have champagne and wine on board, but beer would be king on the Jake of Ark. He would have entire cooler rooms below deck full of beer. Any kind you wanted! It could replace the ballast in the hull of the yacht! And there would be no such thing as “free beer yesterday” on Jake’s ship. It would be “thank you, drill sergeant, may I have another”?

Jake could go on and on with that scenario. He liked that one.

Then, there was the worst case. His dad could be right! He obviously THOUGHT so. Taking the time to build a boat and setting a deadline to get inside and make it watertight kind of spoke for itself. If he was right, there would be another Great Flood. Bad news. The rains had already fallen for many days, and Jake and the rest of humankind could be well on the way to disaster.

Okay. Maybe so. Still, the thing that bothered Jake the most about the Great Flood thing was why Noah, or why his dad? Why did he get to be Noah? Why did he get away and leave everybody else behind?

In the Bible story, God liked Noah, and said that everybody else was evil, wicked, mean and nasty. Seriously? What got Noah on the Good Boys and Girls List? Did he somehow pray harder? Was he more humble? Or did God just play favorites? SOMETHING got Noah the best present under the tree!

What did everyone else do to get on the Naughty List? Did they cuss too much? Did they drink too much beer? Did they believe in a different God? Did they swap wives and husbands and party all night? Whatever it was, it was bad enough to erase the whole chalk board and start clean. God was pretty judgmental! Don’t catch this Guy on a bad day! And what happened to free choice? The Bible said there was violence on the earth. What did that mean? Was everyone shooting dice and playing poker? Were the fights at the pool tables and the apartment robberies a total deal breaker?

And speaking of deals.This flood thing wasn’t supposed to happen again, was it? Wasn’t there some kind of a covenant about that? After the rain stopped and Noah got to dry land, didn’t God promise He would never flood the earth again? He supposedly brought out a rainbow as a symbol of good faith, right? So, what about all that? Was that just a pinky promise?

And actually, besides the first two, there was a third scenario. It was a lot like the second one, but without the Santa Claus God part. Maybe all this just WAS. Maybe another Great Flood was Mother Earth regenerating herself. Mankind hadn’t exactly taken the best care of the old girl. People polluted the air until it was unbreathable, poisoned the water until it was undrinkable, tested bombs under ground, fracked for oil, cut down all the rain forests and destroyed the entire ecological balance. That could only go on so long before something had to give. Maybe the earth was taking it all back now and washing things off. Maybe Mother Earth was saying enough was enough. Time to restore. There was no judgment. It just was. And for Jake, there was a sort of peace in that. It just was!

However Jake looked at it though, the bottom line in the present moment was that it was pitch black, raining to beat hell, he had no phone or internet, no way to reach anyone to find out what was truly happening, and he was stuck on a hilltop with water rising on all sides. It was his worst day ever! He wasn’t just late for his dad’s deadline, he was REALLY late. And the six pack to go was a six pack to GO.

Tilting his head up to the heavens, he cried out.

“Are you shitting me?”

The rain and dampness absorbed the sound as quickly as it left his lips.

Giant raindrops pelted his head and shoulders as he returned to the truck. His flashlight batteries were almost spent. The water level might have risen, but he couldn’t tell. It seemed like it had. He got in the truck. Maybe things would look better when it got light. There were still two cans of beer on the floorboard. He opened one and turned on the radio. Searching for stations brought nothing but static. It cackled at him like derisive laughter.

 

 

THE END