Normally, I write about random ideas and topics that I’ve been mulling over. This week, I’m changing things up. I’m going to share Part 1 of this short story I’ve been writing and tweaking for a while now. The story takes place in.. well, why don’t you go ahead and found out.
All of this happened because Jehoshaphat had the bright idea of not paying the annual tribute to Shem, the eldest son of Noah, the man who saved the world. Now don’t take this the wrong way. Many in the village thought Jehoshaphat was a righteous man, but his village had fallen on hard times.
You see, since the Flood, the water had been receding steadily, and it was only very recently that the villagers began to notice this. One generation ago, the villagers didn’t even believe there was a bottom to the ocean that their huts rested upon. By Jehoshephat's time, things were different. Some of the stronger men said that if they dove deep enough, they found solid ground.
Initially, these reports of an ocean bottom were attributed to poor eyesight or lightheadedness from a lack of oxygen. But once Amos saw the ocean bottom on one of his dives, the worst fears of the villagers were confirmed. Amos was a sensible man, and his testimony could not just be dismissed. The village Council held an emergency meeting to hear Amos’ testimony.
“It is just as the others have described,” Amos recounted to the Council. “The surface extended as far as my eyes could see. And there were rocks that rested upon the surface. Things that looked like plants also lay upon the surface, and-”
“On the third day, God created vegetation on the ground after separating Land from the Sea. But apparently, our friend Amos thinks God may have made a mistake.” Eleazar chuckled. “Obed, motion to dismiss and end the discussion?”
Obed said nothing and merely scratched his beard. While Obed was the strongest man in the village and nominally the head of the village Council, he was not actually the most powerful man in the room. That man was Eleazar. By that time, many of the villagers, including myself, owed Eleazar favors.
Now in those days, the fish stock around the village had dwindled as the ocean began to retreat. Eleazar’s family, however, had been raising tuna in cages for generations. No one knew how they got a hold of these precious cages, and Eleazar’s family conveniently never bothered to share. This supply of fish became essential to the survival of the village over the years. By the time of Amos’ discovery, Eleazar’s family controlled one-third of the food supply in the village. Eleazar’s approval was essential for anything to get done in the village.
Jehoshaphat, the third and final member of the village Council, broke the silence. “Amos is the fourth person in just as many months to have seen the ocean bottom. Do we really think all four witnesses were deceived by their own eyes?”
“And do you really think that land will just bubble up from the ocean? Like eggs over a hot stone?” Eleazar retorted. “Please, Jehoshaphat, even if there was an ocean bottom, it’s likely just a submerged mountain peak that we were passing through. In case you didn’t know, our village does float.”
“Ah yes, so we just happened to pass through several mountain peaks in the past month,” Jehoshaphat turned to Obed. “We all know whose family benefits from the status quo. But the reality is, the waters are receding, and we need to do something about -“
“That’s enough Jehoshaphat,” Obed grumbled. “It doesn’t matter whether or not something benefits one’s family. What matters is what’s good for the village.”
Eleazar sneered. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“And that goes for you as well Eleazar.” Obed turned to Eleazar. “Amos is an honorable man. Do you have reason to believe that he is misleading the Council with his testimony?”
Eleazar shook his head. “Amos’ character has nothing to do with him perhaps making a mistake.”
“With all due respect, counselors, I know what I saw,” Amos muttered through gritted teeth.
“I understand, Amos. I need time to think.” Obed stood up and paced around the Council hut with his neck bent down so he wouldn’t hit his head on the roof. The next tallest man in the village at the time was a half-head shorter than Obed.
Eleazar, sensing the moment, cleared his throat as if about to speak, but Jehoshaphat spoke first.
“Obed, we must go visit the Ark. Our pact that our ancestors made with Noah cannot hold if the world around us is changing so rapidly.”
Eleazar and Amos looked at Jehoshaphat, mouths agape. Obed lifted his head instinctively and hit his head on the roof. Obed was a large man, so the room reverberated from the impact.
Cursing, Obed grunted. “Jehoshaphat, you and the other fisherman may want to lay off some of the grape wine.”
Jehoshaphat grinned.
You see, Jehoshaphat was young. Too young to be in the Council, in fact. Yet, he was the most beloved Council member in the whole village. And it was because of the fishermen.
Back in those days, the fishermen were the beating heart of the village. Yes, you had the mechanics whose job it was to convert floating debris into roof tiling or some other useful material. And certainly, the farmers were important as well. They were in charge of maintaining the set of potted plants that were becoming more essential to the villagers’ diet.
And there were other groups of workers also, which I won’t take care to name. But altogether, these groups didn’t even make up half the number of fishermen in the village. Given their sheer numbers, the fishermen needed to be represented on the Council.
And they would be represented by no one other than Jehoshaphat, much to the consternation of Eleazar and others. You see, the fishermen believed that God had granted the ocean’s favor to Jehoshaphat. It was often said that Jehoshaphat had never felt the wind at his face because he had the ocean’s wind behind him wherever he went. But it was more than just that.
For one, Jehoshaphat’s catch was worthy of ten strong fishermen. I’ve been told that whenever Jehoshaphat took out his boat to fish, dolphins would gently nudge his boat with their long snouts. Once they got Jehoshaphat’s attention, the dolphins would take him to a part of the water where the fish was large and plentiful. Jehoshaphat would catch so many fish that he would even give a few to the dolphins. “The least we can do in this life is to treat our friends well, no?” Jehoshaphat would say with a smile whenever a fisherman would balk at his generosity.
Some storytellers would disagree with me. They would insist that Jehoshaphat never took his boat out to sea because he could travel faster by swimming with his net in one hand and his fishing spear in the other. Several other storytellers, meanwhile, would insist that Jehoshaphat would rarely ever swim since he could just ride astride dolphins, whales, and all sorts of sea creatures.
This is all to say that it would take a dozen moons to tell all the tales of Jehoshaphat, so I will spare you the details and will return back to the Council meeting.
Jehoshaphat, undeterred by Obed’s barb about grape wine, didn’t back down from his suggestion to halt tribute payments.
“We have been paying the same one-third tribute to Shem since the times of my grandparent’s grandparents. With our fish stock being what it is now, there’s no way we can make those payments this year, much less next.”
Eleazar scowled. “Jehoshaphat, your proposal would leave our village outside of the covenant between Noah and God. We’d be defenseless, no different from those who perished in the flood.”
“Eleazar is right,” Obed said, continuing to pace the floor. “We can’t simply stop paying Shem and his clan. I don’t need to remind you of what happened to Azekah.”
Azekah was a village on the other side of the Ark, relative to Jehoshaphat’s village. Within weeks of disavowing themselves of Noah’s covenant, a powerful hurricane wiped out all of Azekah, leaving no survivors. Ham, the second son of Noah, ruled over those parts then, and he wasted no time in spreading the tale of Azekah throughout the known world.
“Friends, you misread me,” Jehoshaphat said smiling. “I don’t intend for us to be another Azekah. I’m merely proposing that we go over to the Ark and talk to Shem.”
“Hmmm, I see.” Obed turned to Eleazar. “You and your brothers have been the ones in charge of delivering the tribute. How do you think such a conversation would go with Shem?”
“Shem, if anything, is more cruel than his brother Ham, the caller of hurricanes. It would not be wise to upset him, Obed. We have no leverage.”
“I’ll go with you to the Ark, Eleazar,” Jehoshaphat offered. “Let me have the conversation with Shem. If it goes poorly, you can disavow of me to spare the village of any repercussions.”
Obed stopped his pacing. “You’re willing to do this Jehoshaphat?”
“It doesn’t matter if he’s willing,” Eleazar interjected. “We are in no position to bargain here. It is only out of Noah’s goodwill that our ancestors were able to get on the Ark 150 years ago. And it is only through his family’s continued generosity, that they keep us within their Covenant with God.” Eleazar let out a long, exasperated sigh and raised his hands. “Why ruin a good thing?”
Jehoshaphat laughed. “I wouldn’t call our current situation a good thing, Eleazar. People are disgruntled now. Next month, they’ll be hungry. And what will they say the month after, when the one-third tribute is collected?”
“Jehoshaphat is right,” Obed nodded. “With how poor the catch has been, many families have had to tap into their preserved fish. Eleazar, even your family might struggle in the coming months.”
Eleazar looked at Obed and then Jehoshaphat.
Seeing their resolute expressions, Eleazar smiled. “This isn’t about my family struggling. This is about the good of the village, is it not?”
Obed nodded. Jehoshaphat raised an eyebrow, puzzled.
“I’ll propose this then,” Eleazar continued. “In two days’ time, Jehoshaphat and I can travel together to the Ark to talk to Shem. I will make the introduction, and I will let Jehoshaphat take it from there.”
“While I can’t say I’m looking forward to your company, I accept,” Jehoshaphat said.
“Well then, it’s settled,” Obed said, cutting off Eleazar before more barbs could be traded. Obed turned to Amos. “Thank you for your testimony, Amos. Jehoshaphat and Eleazar will be sure to make the most of it.”
Abruptly, Eleazar stood up and left.
Jehoshaphat, generous as always, thanked Amos for his testimony and walked out.
Amos would later tell me that both Jehoshaphat and Eleazar left the meeting smiling. Jehoshaphat, because he would be making the trip to the Ark in 2 days’ time. And Eleazar, because he would have Jehoshaphat murdered by then.