Read Online In the Shadow of the Ark by Anne Provoost - Free Book Online Page A

Japheth got undressed first. They sat in the water and made scratching movements over the surface to keep the insects away. The servants were next. They made their toilet in their own way: They scraped the dirt off the backs of their hands with their teeth and poured pond water over their shoulders. They all suffered from itching: You could tell from the way their faces relaxed when they sat down in the water, as if they put outa fire deep inside their bodies. Ham was fiddling with his belt, which was hopelessly tangled and seemed to need all his attention. Even after he stood with his feet in the water, his gaze kept avoiding me. He was only knee deep when he threw himself into the water, as if he had felt a snake brush against his calf, and a moment later he plunged his head underwater.
    As Shem and Japheth came out of the water to put their cloaks back on, they smelled my oils. They stood next to me, their legs spread, examining my jug, the bowl with the water, and the sponge that floated in it like a hunk of bread. “What do you do to her that makes her weak as wax?” they asked.
    I stood up and bowed my head. My shell-covered tunic made soft clicking sounds and hid the rapid rise and fall of my breast under it. “We are marsh people,” I said, fearful that my voice would betray me. “We have a talent for water. With this, I can wash you the way I wash my mother.”
    Shem had a hairy chest, Japheth was hairy just about all over. They looked at each other and smiled. They took the belts their servants held out to them and tied them low and tight around their waists. They walked to the red tent, looking back now and then, and went each into his own part of the tent. Ham went after them, but he did not look back.
    I packed up my gear. I stood in front of the tent, made a greeting, and offered the Builder’s sons a wash and oil treatment. They wanted to stand up, but I told them that was not necessary. I put down my bowl and knelt. I ignored the fact that they had just bathed in the pond, washing them the way it should be done. Because they were not used to me yet, I began with their hands,their arms, their feet, Shem first as he was the eldest. He was a bit giggly and friendly, talking with his brothers, but not with me.
    Next I washed Japheth. His skin was gray. I was generous with the water, letting it drip from the sponge onto the pebbles and grit, something he watched with amazement. He asked me to braid his beard. His reactions were more sensitive than Shem’s, almost irritable. He seemed to find my touch pleasant, but had no patience to enjoy it. He squinted, so I had no idea what he was looking at. I could not relax his tension.
    Last I washed Ham, the same way as the others, no longer or more slowly. As I rubbed his arms, I could feel his pulse beat. He had not dried himself properly after his bath in the pond. Water was dripping from his hair down his neck, and as I wiped the drops with my sponge, I could see him repressing an urge to close his eyes. His breath was not wheezy, he was breathing more freely and lightly than before.
    There was another part to the tent, made from much heavier canvas. Its curtain was down, the gaps plugged up with straw. Sounds came from behind it at times, the knock of stone against stone, low male voices. There the Builder lived; there also lived the dwarf I had seen near the pitch pots. But the Builder could not leave his sickbed, and nobody asked for a boy to bathe him. I could feel Ham grow tense under my hands when the dwarf came and looked at us through the curtain and said, “How curious, a boy who is as particular as a girl. Didn’t you have a sister who is terribly like you?”
    “His sister gets the water. She is away at the spring,” Ham replied quickly, and the dwarf went back.
    From that day on, I was assured of work. They did not ask me to come again, they simply assumed I would. They asked bystanders where he was, this washerboy who dragged his crippled mother