Ark by K.B. Kofoed Page B

written by a biblical journalist. He’d heard all the popular renditions of the story in Sunday School, but many details were left out. Because he’d used the Bible like a technical manual, he knew the full story of the Ark of the Covenant. He’d never known, for example, that before the ark was ever built God revealed Himself in person to seventy elders at the foot of Mount Sinai. There was even a description of God himself, standing above a pool of turquoise, His body having a ‘clearness, like unto Heaven,’ whatever that meant. Now he knew there were thousands of Israelite witnesses to the events described in the book, not just a small group of desert tribesmen. These people weren’t easily convinced. The Bible made that perfectly clear. He pictured a vast enclave trudging aimlessly from oasis to oasis, mostly wondering where the next meal or drink of water would be found.
    Jim understood now that the story of Moses was really about the Hebrew Law and how it had been forged into people’s hearts and souls. Unquestionably, the ark was central to all that. It communicated the Law and policed it. It was also a feared weapon in battle. Jim looked up and sighed deeply. “God will smite those who disobey,” he muttered softly. He was no biblical scholar, but he understood that the story with which he’d become so personally involved wasn’t just a manual for building ancient furniture. This was the story of the Prophet Moses, the cofounder of three major religions.
    Years before, when he first investigated the ark, Jim had the idea that Eric Von Daniken might have been right when he asserted that the story of Moses was a tale of ancient astronauts, but he had abandoned that notion long ago. Reading the story had changed his mind. The ark wasn’t just a weapon that some space alien handed to Moses, as Von Daniken had claimed. It wasn’t like that at all. It was the living presence of God in their midst. “This is big,” he said aloud.
    Now that he might actually witness the renewing of the ark, Jim found himself hovering between elation and fear. He might finally get the answers that had haunted him for so long, but what if those answers cost him his life?

    #

    On Thursday a woman from the military called to inform Jim she had reserved a ticket on a 7 a.m flight to Albuquerque, courtesy of John Wilcox. When the time came to go Lou drove him to the airport. He had promised to take on some of Jim’s work, but all the way to the airport Lou made sure that Jim wasn’t going to forget his obligations. He said at least three times, “I can’t run this business by myself.”
    By eight that morning Jim was leaning over an airliner tray, eating a piece of overly crisp honeydew melon and a stamped-out blueberry muffin. He gazed down from his window seat at the greenish brown folds of the Allegheny Mountains. In the two seats next to him a husband and wife chatted with friends across the aisle. The drone of the engines was making him drowsy. Jim fell asleep.
    He awoke to a large stuffed toy being dropped on his head. Jim opened his eyes to see a freckled gum snapping face an inch from his nose. “Sorry, mista,” said the kid.
    As Jim righted his chair, the captain announced the crossing of the scenic Mississippi River. He looked out the window and yawned. He had slept a long time. He caught a glimpse of the river, but they were at a great height and the ground below all looked the same.
    Clouds soon obscured the view and he opened his travel bag, taking out his notes and drawings. Staring at the sketch of the tabernacle Jim wondered if the drawing was accurate at all. What configurations had God and Moses discussed on the mountain? You can learn a LOT in forty days and nights on a mountain. He learned to drive in two weeks. He learned how to operate his computer in a week. He wondered how those untold instructions might have altered his drawing. The kid’s face loomed over him again. “Coooooooool,” said the boy.