The Days of Peleg (64 page)

A wave of competitive anger washed over Peleg. No one should out-perform him when it came to simple counting.

“Don’t be angry,” Shem consoled. “I’m trying to demonstrate a point. After the
fall
, humanity’s mental abilities have progressively deteriorated. As a child, my friends and I could give totals for up to sixty items at a glance. My father could do this with over two hundred items.”

Peleg was not listening. He had collected the thrown stones, replaced them in the bag, and was pulling out a second random number of stones with both hands. He refused to consider the image of Shem as a child, and also deliberately ignored the fact that this was the first time Shem had ever spoken of his family.

He got down on his knees and tossed the new assortment across the floor, determined to give an accurate count before Shem.

Shem was still talking.

“Through the years in Haganah, I—.”

Shem interrupted himself as the stones clattered to a stop.

“Forty-four,” was Shem’s instant assessment.

With building irritation, Peleg quickly confirmed the number and stooped to collect the stones while Shem continued.

“—I watched as each generation could identify increasingly smaller amounts. These days, it is impressive for someone your age to be able to number anything higher than
ten
without actually counting. Who knows how low that number may go as humanity’s mental abilities continue to decline?”

While Peleg was preparing a third stone toss, Shem finally stopped talking and got on his knees next to him. Shem placed his hands around Peleg’s, which were filled with the next random collection.

“Peleg,” Shem insisted, “there is no reason to be upset.”

Peleg wrenched his hands from Shem’s and launched the stones more violently than ever. Most of them struck the wall and bounced before falling to the ground.

Peleg tried desperately to mentally group the bouncing pebbles into countable clusters. However, this time, Shem knelt beside him with his mouth clenched shut, refusing to speak. For a brief moment, Peleg thought Shem was stumped, but just as he realized that Shem was refusing to play, an unexpected voice came from above.

“
Forty-one
.”

They both looked up to see Bernifal, who had decided to compete with them. But before Peleg could confirm the count, Shem spoke, seemingly in contradiction to Bernifal.

“Thirty-two,” he stated confidently.

Peleg finished his own count, and saw that there were indeed forty-one stones scattered on the floor, as Bernifal had said.

Peleg looked at Shem with a mixture of puzzlement and glee.

“You’re wrong!” he declared. “Why did you say ‘thirty-two’?”

Shem shook his head in mock confusion.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was giving the number of stones remaining in the
bag
.”

Peleg’s anger peaked and broke. There was no use competing with Shem. He began to realize that this cave dweller was large mentally as well as physically. He looked in the bag to start counting, but decided it was pointless. Shem was watching him closely, and seemed to be trying hard not to laugh.

Peleg had a decision to make.

He decided to laugh
with
Shem.

He shook his head and gave a slight chuckle, which gave Shem permission to break into his annoying, body-shaking, gasping fits of laughter.

Peleg’s chuckles gave way to relieved laughter, and together, the two of them scoured the floor on their knees, picking up stones. Bernifal watched from overhead, joining in the laughter, until the bag (with all seventy-three stones) was placed in Shem’s outstretched hand.

A sudden bark from Bernifal jolted them, and they turned to see a man who had obviously been standing in the doorway for quite some time.

It took less than a second to see the family resemblance. Although he was lighter in complexion than Peleg, he had the same thick black hair and indigo eyes. He was dressed nicely, but nowhere near the opulence of Buan’s attire.

He was watching the laughing pair, who were picking stones off of the floor, and also giving sideways glances at the slight man dressed in an animal skin standing next to them.

His eyes were drawn to Peleg, and when they locked, the man furrowed his brow and spoke in the language of Ur.

“
Father
?”

Chapter 36

Insanity

“Outside of absolute truth, reality is non-existent.”

R
eu had just come from a long and tedious evening. That afternoon, the emissaries from Aratta had brought fine samples of rubies, turquoise, and lapis lazuli, but they continued to insist on a very unreasonable exchange rate for their gold—which completely undermined the financial basis for any possible future transactions! Lengthy and laborious negotiations had finally come to a standstill, and Reu could only hope that the luxurious accommodations which he provided for them would soften their preposterous demands by morning.

But before that, as he was preparing for their arrival, his servant, Buan, had returned (from
his
unsuccessful morning) and announced that Reu’s father, Peleg (whom he had not seen since he left Ur at the age of seventeen) was in town. In fact, he was right here at the Exchange Offices! Reu was certain that Buan was either mistaken, or the victim of a hoax, but his preoccupation with the emissaries had forced him to try and keep the intriguing possibility from distracting his business dealings. He attempted to keep the talks moving so he could get home and visit the gentlemen that Buan had met.

Where was Buan anyway?

He hadn’t been able to find him since the visitor quarters were cleared for his guests. After they were settled, he had finished his accounting for the day, tallied all of the floor activities, and (of course) extrapolated his profit margins for the month.

It was now dark outside as he rushed through his courtyard, then hurried along his central corridor which was covered with alternating sheets of cedar and polished bronze paneling. He nodded slightly in appreciation as his form flickered, capturing his movement as he passed each mirrored section.

He paused briefly at the curtains before the guest chambers, where the statuette of
Anu
rested on a short sculpted pillar in the right alcove. A stone tablet was mounted to the pillar, containing a lithograph about
Anu
and his heavenly origins.

The plaque told how
Anu
’s father was
Anshar
, offspring of the two serpents,
Lakhmu
and
Lakhamu
, and when
Anshar
mated with his sister,
Kishar
, they produced
Anu
, first of the great demigods. He was the overlord of all subsequent deities, but had little interest in the affairs of man. Yet his energy was available for those who meditated on him; and all who did were assured of success and profit—as long as their motives were for the betterment of all humanity.
Anu
was said to fight against higher powers who sought to bring misery and poverty into the universe.

He looked at the smiling statue which gazed beatifically towards the ceiling, with its horned head tipped slightly upwards. Reu certainly didn’t believe such stories, and he knew few people who did, but he had to admit that business success depended a great deal on such attitudes, and he
did
have one philosophy which he held with great conviction.

The creation of wealth is the highest form of spirituality
.

Only through
wealth
could one help his fellow man. Only through wealth could the burdens of life be lessened. And Reu’s business model was both modest
and
noble in its simplicity. His radical ideas had completely changed the way in which business was conducted in Uruk because it utilized a concept which, for most men, was despised. That concept was
servitude
. Reu devoted his time and energy to serving and helping
others
become wealthy. For a small percentage, Reu would help
anyone
turn his or her resources and talents into a profitable venture. Through investments, commodities trading, and the occasional lottery, Reu had more net worth than the city itself! And
that
meant he could help even
more
people.

The poorest of the poor could excel only when someone with more means reached out to aid them. And if that someone could benefit in the process, then nothing could create more fulfillment. A poor man could not gain employment from another poor man, and the wealthy could not remain wealthy if the common man had no money to spend.

Reu despised those cultures, mostly far to the east, who seemed to
venerate
poverty, as if
it
were something honorable and praiseworthy. Poverty was a
blight
, and he, for one, was determined to overthrow it (
cure
it, if you will) at every opportunity.

He looked at
Anu
again, and smiled with amusement at how the sculptor had chosen to give the statuette the likeness of Gilgamesh, the founder of Uruk. He was famous for having slain an attacking
ušemšutum
with his bare hands by jumping onto its back and ripping off one of its short, stubby forelegs, causing it to bleed to death. Their tiny front legs were extremely out of proportion with the animal’s gigantic size, and they were basically useless except for holding fruit, or swatting in intimidation.

Gilgamesh had returned to the city with its head on a cart, and was instantly a hero, about whom many songs and exaggerated stories had been written.

Anu
. A great symbol for all commerce to embrace.

He turned away and pushed through the curtains to the sound of men laughing. He put on his best businessman’s smile and turned into the first guest doorway on the right to find two men on the floor, laughing and collecting pebbles from the floor in what appeared to be a juvenile game. He glanced to his left and was startled by the presence of another, slender, man who was dressed in the crudest of animal skins. Reu was
sure
he had ordered proper attire for these men, and if the suits had not been delivered or fitted properly, someone would pay dearly.

The slender man called out in alarm, and the two men on the floor looked up hastily. Reu’s focus was drawn immediately to the piercing indigo eyes belonging to the dark man in the avocado colored suit.

Any thoughts that Buan was mistaken evaporated instantly. There was no mistaking the face of the man with whom he had spent the first seventeen years of his life. He noticed that the man’s nose, ears, and forehead were larger, which was the usual indication that someone had aged. But as he looked closer, (in the flickering lamp-light) he saw slight wrinkles in the face and streaks of gray winding through the thick black hair, which (for the briefest of moments) frightened him.

But the similarities with his own feature were unmistakable, and it was easy to see why Buan had been so adamant.

“
Father
?”

Although it was a question, it was said with mounting confidence. Reu reached down to help his father, who had just finished replacing the remaining stones into a nearby bag.

Peleg was thankful that Reu could not see him blushing beneath his dark skin. This was
not
the way he had envisioned his reunion with his first-born, but he smiled as Reu reached out his arm and pulled him up.

He winced slightly at the twinge in his knees, but soon he was standing before his son. There was a brief moment as they looked awkwardly into each other’s eyes—seventy years is a long time—but soon they both arrived at a simultaneous decision and dutifully embraced one another.

Eventually they separated, and Reu was the first to speak.

“I could not believe it was truly you,” he began, using the language he had been raised with. “How is it possible that you have arrived here in Uruk?”

Peleg shook his head.

“It is a very long tale,” he said. “The short story is: The Great Discovery brought us to the Western mouth of the Great Sea.”

He grimaced slightly and looked towards Shem.

“What is astonishing, Reu, is this: We survived our twelve year voyage, successfully traveling the world, only to be destroyed on the way home in known waters.”

A flush of anger against Shem passed quickly through him.

“You were aboard the
Urbat
, as I recall,” said Reu. “How was it destroyed?”

“As far as I know, I am the only survivor,” said Peleg, avoiding the question. For some reason, he didn’t feel the need to go into details in front of Shem. He could have switched to the language of Uruk, but that would probably cause additional problems later.

He pointed to Shem and Bernifal.

“This is Shem,” he said, “and Bernifal. I acquired these traveling companions from the mountains far to the west,” he said.

Reu strode towards the two men with a smile and called them both by name, grasping each by the forearm in greeting.

He looked back to Peleg.

“I see that you received the clothing I sent,” he said. “I trust that everything fits satisfactorily?” For some reason, Reu was deliberately ignoring the fact the Bernifal was not wearing his suit.

“Yes,” said Peleg. “I’ve never had clothing this fine before.”

Shem moved closer to Reu and spoke.

“I, too, thank you for your gifts of food and clothing,” he said, “and also for allowing us to remain here this night.”

He paused and looked at Reu with what only could be admiration.

“I am most honored to meet you,” Shem continued. “You see, I am your great-great-great-grandfather, and I am interested in tracing our lineage as far as is possible.”

Reu’s smile suddenly disappeared and was replaced by a confused scowl. He turned quickly to Peleg for an explanation.

Peleg shrugged.