Ark (4 page)

“Modulate the signal,” said Dan. “The vortex would act like a speaker, I’d guess.”

#

Jim thought over his conversation with Dan. His own knowledge of electronics was limited, but he knew Dan was a natural mechanic, always seeming to know how things worked. Now, with Monday morning upon him and deadlines to be met, Jim had driven Dan to the hotel and was on his way to the studio as fast as possible. He still couldn’t get their conversation out of his mind. In just a few sentences, Dan had managed to answer some fundamental questions that had lingered in Jim’s brain for twenty years. As Jim navigated his station wagon toward South Philadelphia he tuned the radio to WMMR. Jim’s radio had been permanently tuned to that station for twenty years, except when he wanted a traffic report.
Stairway to Heaven
was playing, perhaps for the billionth time. He remembered first hearing that album many years ago. It was Gene who had explained the Zep to him. “People like a little bitch in their music these days.”

As Jim thought back to the early 70’s he remembered his friendship with Gene vividly. Gene the mysterious, the enigmatic. The straight man. The scientist. He could be discussing traffic one minute, then in the next breath he’d be discussing the finer points of quantum mechanics, usually over Jim’s head. Over everybody’s, really. When they last talked about the Ark of the Covenant, Gene was pondering the possibility of rebuilding the ark using modern materials. It would certainly be cheaper. Even if the cherubim were made of relatively thin sheets of gold, to follow the original plan would cost a fortune. However, that led to a central question. Could you compromise the plans? Where does one step aside and ignore the Word of God?

Dan had told him about little resonating cavities in the guts of microwave receivers, little gilded aluminum boxes designed to trap microwave transmissions.

“The mind never forgets a question,” Gene used to say. “One day someone will unlock this thing, but meanwhile, as a Jew, I don’t want to risk the anger of whoever is on the other end.” Gene had said it all when he asked, “What if it works?” Jim had wondered about the mystery of the Ark of the Covenant for twenty years. Now, finally, he had some answers, but they only led to more questions.

When Jim entered the Raftworks, Lou was on the phone. Lou didn’t seem pleased, handing Jim the phone and saying, “Here, Susan, let me put Jim on. He’s the man in charge of this thing.”

From that moment until he arrived home that night Jim didn’t think of the ark once. The day for shooting the board members had arrived. The upper staff of the Montel Corporation was waiting, ready to pose for their annual report pics. Jim loved board work. He loved to design, but he dreaded directing CEO’s and reassuring them that they looked great. Of course they wouldn’t, and he’d have to retouch the images on his Macintosh. To add another wrinkle to the day, the digital camera went dead and the shoot had to stop until the photographer could charge it up.

Arriving home after eight that night, Jim fell into his sofa like a sack of apples. When Kas asked about his day, he only managed to groan something about the pain behind his left eye. Within a minute Kas was at his side with two aspirin and a glass of milk.

“Here,” she said. “Dan called. Around seven. Said he was at the airport hotel and would be around for a few days on business. He left his phone number. Oh … and Gene, Gene Henson, from long ago?” she added. “He called, too, just a few minutes after Dan.”

“Gene?” said Jim, opening one bloodshot eye. “Get out! What did he want?”

“He didn’t say, but he left a number. It’s on the fridge.”

“That’s weird,” said Jim.

“I thought so, too.”

“Anything to eat?” asked Jim as he felt his stomach growl.

“Steph and I got some pizzas,” she said. “There’s lots left.”

“Nice to be home,” said Jim. “Alligators all day. Hungry ones, I might add.”

“I see that,” said Kas sympathetically.

Later, after the aspirins had soothed his headache, and he’d eaten, Jim called Gene.

After a few amenities Jim fell silent for a long time, listening. Then Kas noticed that he made a strange face and said, “Okay, tomorrow, then.”

#

Gene arrived at Philadelphia Airport the next day. The flight was on time. Jim, Kas, and Lou were at the gate as Gene came up the ramp and into the terminal. When they saw each other, the inevitable assessment of the damage the years had wrought dominated the conversation. “How long has it been?” said Lou.

“Must be at least a month,” said Gene. They all laughed and fought to help Gene carry his bags. Kas ripped her panty hose in the fray. Cursing Gene’s sharp edged luggage, she lifted a suitcase and headed toward the sign pointing to Parking Garage B. The car was still over a half mile of corridors away and by the time they all arrived at Lou’s van none of them had the breath for conversation. They piled the things into the back and got into the van. Soon Lou was dodging expressway traffic on the way back to his house.

“Weird that you called, I mean when you did,” said Jim, looking at Gene in the back seat next to Kas.

“Just popped into my mind,” said Gene, looking out the window at the Tinicum marshes. “Things look the same,” he said. “Same swamp.” Even though Gene had been fed on the flight from Chicago he agreed to a stop along the way for Chinese food. Soon they were all gathered in Jim’s living room feasting on at least seven different kinds.

The day had been relatively quiet for a Tuesday and Jim was glad to be able to relax a bit during Gene’s visit. Lou brought Gene up to date with a dozen jokes about born-again Christians and Gene countered with some appalling anti-Irish jokes that he told badly.

“Glad to see nothing’s changed since we last ...”

“Not a thing,” said Lou, with a grin. “Same old bunch of loonies with a few more gray hairs.”

As the evening wore on with more than a few beers consumed, Lou produced a reefer “for old time’s sake,”

“Jeez, Lou,” said Kas, “suppose Stephie walks in?”

“I guess we’d have to be polite and offer her some,” said Lou.

“You piece of shit, Lou,” hissed Kas, “I’d skin your ...”

“You’d have to catch me first,” said Lou with a giggle, lighting up.

“Come on, Lou. Not in the living room,” said Jim. “It’ll stink up the place. Stephie’s friends, you know.”

Lou snuffed the joint with two spit soaked fingers and stashed it into his pocket with an annoyed grunt.

Jim ignored Lou. “So what’s this about the ark,” he asked Gene.

Lou groaned ominously. Then there was silence. It lingered too long. Sensing a serious conversation, Kas got up and said, “I have some grapes I have to press,” and left the room.

“There you go again,” said Lou to Jim, mimicking the voice of Ronald Reagan.

Jim sat drop-jawed as he watched Kas leave the room. “But ...”

Lou threw an empty beer can at Jim. “She won’t tell ya,” he began. “I will.”

“What?”

“You’re obsessed with that Ark thing, Jim,” said Lou in the voice of Spock.

“Go smoke your joint,” said Jim. “You know where the back yard is.”

“Right,” said Lou.

Gene held up his hand, interrupting them. “May I?”

“Go for it,” said Jim, folding his arms defensively and leaning back to listen.

“I want to try to build the ark,” said Gene. “I have a guy who wants to back it.”

“You’re shitting me!” roared Lou.

A feminine protest arose from the back of the house. “Keep your voices down if you’re going to talk smut!”

“Jesus, what a shrew,” said Lou.

Jim glared at Lou, then he looked back at Gene and smiled. “You’re joking, of course.”

Gene looked deadly serious. “I wanted to talk to you about your plans, you know, the ones you drew. I wondered if you still had them, and if you’d thought about it over the years.”

“From time to time, sure. In fact, I just dug them out.”

“Well, for me it never went away,” said Gene. “Not ever. Recently I’ve been talking to a lawyer friend and he told me about a project he’s going to start. He wants to rebuild the ark as a research project. Maybe a documentary. He has money but the film rights might help with the cost.”

“Give me a break,” said Jim. “We talked about this long ago, Gene, and you decided that there wasn’t enough information available to do it right. That the big question mark, as I recall, was the configuration of the cherubim. Besides, you said it gave you the creeps.”

“That was then, Jim,” said Gene, “but I think I’ve figured out how the thing worked.”

Lou held up his hand. “Okay, okay,” he protested. “Is this going to be a tech talk?”

Jim smiled but ignored Lou. “So why do you suddenly want to build the ark after twenty years?”

“Damned fair question,” answered Lou with a macho swing of his fist.

“It tasks me,” said Gene. “I couldn’t let it go. I still have copies of your drawings.”

“Your timing is amazing,” said Jim. “Stephie and I were cleaning the studio a day or so ago and came across the sketches of the ark. Almost threw them out. I have them over there in my studio room. Then along comes Dan and he ...”

“Dan?” asked Gene.

Lou’s eyebrows lowered as he stoically sipped a beer and listened to Jim explain. “Bullshit weirdness,” he mumbled.

Gene ignored Lou. “Who’s Dan, and what’s he to do with all this?”

As Jim explained Dan Slater’s connection to Jim and to the story of the ark, Lou sat sullenly and listened. Jim admired Lou’s brash honesty, and over the years he had seen Brooks get away with things he wouldn’t dream of doing. Lou was tough on folks, but he never turned them away when they needed help. Jim had heard all the criticisms of Lou but he’d given up listening to them. He loved Lou like a brother.

Kas, however, was not among Lou’s admirers, and she made no secret of it. Still, as Jim’s best friend she felt duty bound to tolerate him. Her world centered on Jim and right now, knowing that Lou probably had a joint or two in his pocket to share with his friends, she decided to make up some reason to get Stephanie out of the house.

The phone rang. Claire was coming over soon to pick up Lou. “Saved by the bell,” Kas muttered as she hung up the kitchen wall phone.

Jim noticed that Kas suddenly seemed more relaxed. He knew how she felt about Lou and guessed she was still afraid that he would light up a reefer if he got too bored. He found himself conscious of Lou and unable to focus on the discussion with Gene, but it didn’t seem to matter to Gene. It was as if he’d been waiting years to talk to Jim about the ark.

“This is a weird coincidence, I guess, Jim,” continued Gene, pouring another glass of soda. “I decided to do some CAD work with my computer. I fed in the parameters of the ark based on your drawings and worked up a wire frame. I even had a friend write a radio wave simulation. Then we took the file to Columbia University and ran a simulation on one of their biggest computers, the ones they use to calculate the orbits of space debris and stuff.”

“Anything happen?”

“The program wouldn’t run,” said Gene with a shrug. “Some software glitch.”

“I don’t get it, said Lou. “Are you saying you want to build the ark based on that?”

Gene frowned. “I wasn’t finished. What I’m saying is that the program never ran. I tried five times. No one knows why it wouldn’t run.”

“So what was the program supposed to do?” asked Lou, now finally interested in the discussion, “and why after nearly twenty years are you pursuing this? I still don’t get it.”

“This happened within the last few months,” said Gene. “I want Jim involved in this. After all, he did the original drawings.”

“Well, it’s good to see you again, anyway,” said Lou, “whatever the reason.”

“Same here,” said Gene, raising his soda glass.

Lou apparently detected the doubt in Gene’s voice. “No, I mean it.”

Jim wore a slight smirk as Lou spoke, expecting Lou to give Gene a verbal jibe before long, but it never came. This pleased him so much that when Claire finally arrived he was a little disappointed to see Lou leave, but it did make it easier for Jim and Gene to continue their discussion.

“I don’t recall a Dan Slater,” said Gene. “He was your buddy?”

“From college. He was in the Air Force working on microwave receivers while you and I were getting high in South Philly.”

“So he really knows his shit,” said Gene. “Well, I think he’s right about the ark being a resonator, but that, all by itself, has little real significance.”

“What?” said Jim. “I thought it was a specific type of electronic component.”

“Well, every box is a resonator of a kind. This room, for example. If the music from your stereo hits the right frequency the room will hum or vibrate. Haven’t you noticed?”

Jim nodded. “Sure.”

“A double layered box of non resonating wood is interesting, but it can be explained as a decorative thing. The gilding could be just decorative.”

“So why are you so excited about it, then?”

“It’s the cherubim. They are the key,” said Gene. “The configuration you came up with was new. It hadn’t been seen before. Apparently your ignorance of the subject matter meant that you had no preconceived ideas. We hadn’t seen
Raiders
yet, so your interpretation was unique. You realized that the cherubim weren’t sculptural.”

Jim blinked. Then he smiled. “I never really thought about it. Interesting.”

Kas came back into the kitchen where the two men sat. “Lou and Claire will be back tomorrow. You will be around for a few days, won’t you, Gene?”

“Thanks, Kas,” said Gene, “but I have a friend in town I have to visit.”

Jim looked clearly disappointed. “We have a spare bedroom.”

Suddenly Kas was reminded of Fostia, Gene’s wife.

“Gene,” she said. “Where’s Fostia? She’s not with you?”

“She was killed in a bar fight,” said Gene without expression.

Jim glanced at Kas, wide eyed. “Bar fight?”

“Full bottle of Brewers Gold. Got her in the temple,” said Gene.

“I’m so sorry,” said Kas.

“You’re probably the only one,” said Gene. Then he frowned and added, “I guess I shouldn’t have said that.”