Battling the Tide

Another body drifted past, this one small enough to be a child. Em turned her face away from it.

The railing brought no respite after all. It was rough under her palms, and the sea spray cold and fresh on her face. She had leaned into it for only a moment, to gather herself. Focusing on the feel of splintery, hastily-hewn wood against her hands helped her to ground herself. Gulping stinging lungfuls of the salty air was all that was stopping the waves of nausea that threatened to engulf her.

I must not vomit. I must not pass out.

A moment was all she could afford. Her family were still frantically heaving bucketloads over the side. Reluctant, holding a rag to her nose and and mouth, she turned back into the chaos.

The deck lurched under her feet. The sudden motion sent her eldest son skidding into her. They almost toppled overboard together. It would at least be a cleaner death.

She helped the tall and strapping young man back to his feet. He barely paused to thank her, or mutter "sorry ma!". Right now, he was too consumed by the same panic that could swallow them all.

He staggered, yelling "Grab another bucket!" to his youngest brother. "We’re taking on water!" There were all bailing now. Em worked alongside her husband, trying to breathe as little as possible. Their sons, and their sons' wives all pitched in as well. Each with the desperation of someone fighting a losing battle against a rising tide.

"Faster, Shem! shouted one of her inter-changeable daughters-in-law. "We’ll be swimming in it soon!" The cacophony assaulting the nose was matched only by the one stampeding into their earholes. The cries and calls of desperate animals threatened to suffocate them, but then, at least they'd be free from the smell.

Elephants trumpeted. Goats maaaa'd. Even the doves, nestled in the rafters, watched, their beady little eyes blinking and smug. “Keep bailing, lads!" her husband shouted, throwing his long white beard over his shoulder so it would't trail in the muck. "The Lord will deliver us!"

"He should get his holy arse down here with a shovel, then," Japheth muttered.

They shoveled long into the night, backs aching.

"I worried we might drown," Ham said, panting, sweat gluing his robes to his skin, "but I didn't think it would be in shit!"

When exhaustion threatened to overwhelm them, Emzara insisted they split the shoveling into shifts. It meant slower going, but the youngest daughter-in-law looked as though she was going to pass out.

All the while, wicked water crept further and further up the sides of the boat. The lapping waves seemed to snicker at them all. Mere cubits separated them from a better kind of drowning, but drowning all the same.

Hours turned to days, the waste piling up overboard, until- The ark lurched again, this time violently enough to send them tumbling into (thank God) the walls, and not the mountains of dung that still surrounded them.

Ham scrambled up, staring ahead in disbelief. “Father… we’ve run aground!” Noah rushed forward, gripping the railing and holding his breath. There was no escape from the stink, it seemed.

And lo! The hull had creaked to a halt on... well, not dry land, not as such. It was quite wet and squelchy, actually. Shem leapt lightly down on to the shore to investigate. He crouched, and scooped up a handful of dirt. He frowned. Sniffed. He looked back up at his family, their anxious faces peering over the railing.

"It's not soil,” he said, brushing his hands off against his robes (which were filthy anyway). "It's crap." Noah inhaled deeply (through his mouth) surveying the miracle of their salvation. “Next time," he said, "We're gonna need a bigger ark.”

+

Thank you for reading!

CW: If you are religious, this story may cause offence.

Last Sunday I wrote about Moses, and this week I thought, hey, it's Sunday again! Why not butcher another Bible story? As a kid, I always wondered about this. What did they do with all the poop?

This story was a lot of fun to write. I mean, it's poop humour, so of course. Bible lore is fun to look up, as well, though.

I've been as accurate as I can be with the names, and I think I got the birth order right. Mrs. Noah's first name isn't specified in the Bible as far as I know, but apparently she might have been called Emzara. Details are vague about the sons' wives (but of course, they were only women) so we don't know their names or how many there were. I hesitate to assume they only had one each.

Thanks again! See you tomorrow!