My college
friend Bob’s stories about his Uncle Jim might have given the impression that
the man totally lacked any sense at all. Bob told us that, despite lapses from
time to time, Uncle Jim was an intelligent, widely-read man who was a prize-winning
farmer. His livestock and crops on his
land in western New Jersey consistently won awards, and other farmers in the
area sought his advice. It was just
occasionally he had one of his ideas.
Bob went to
the farm during fall break one year to find Uncle Jim in the middle of one of
his brainstorms.
“Bob,” he
said, “Are you still dating that young woman who was here some last summer”
Bob had a
series of rather attractive girlfriends although he looked like he was dressed
by a committee and had few social skills beyond telling outlandish stories.
“No,” said
Bob. “I’m between girlfriends right now.
Why?”
“Hmm,” said
Uncle Jim. “I had been looking for a way to thank people in the area for their
kindnesses to us over the years and wanted to have a living Noah's Ark pageant for Halloween.
"Noah's Ark pageant?" Bob asked.
“Yep, got
everything I need right here—animals, people, a barn we can make look like an
ark. Kids will love it. Older people
will, too.”
At that
moment Dot shouted from inside the house: “I am NOT playing Noah’s wife!” She knew from a literature course that Noah's wife in medieval pageants was a notorious scold. Which Dot was not.
Uncle Jim sighed
and went back into the barn. Over the next few days the elements of the pageant
came together. Uncle Jim was to be Noah and Bob one of his sons. The idea was that
they would give visitors a tour of the ark. They only had one horse, and Uncle Jim
wanted to put a mirror in its stall to make it look like two horses, but Dot
refused to let him take one out of the house.
She did agree to sell tickets, and all the money they collected would go
to charity. They put up signs at the farmers’ co-op and other places they
frequented in town.
Bob and Uncle Jim
fixed up some old boards to look like a prow of a ship on the end of the barn
and built a ramp for people to walk up. Uncle Jim insisted on putting a sign over the
door which read “Noah’s Ark,” although Bob told him Noah probably did not name
his boat.
The first
night of the pageant they were ready.
They had their horse, cows, pigs, chickens, goats and a couple of ducks. Uncle Jim was disappointed that his daughter Emily, who had moved to the city when
she finished college, no longer was there with the doves she raised when she
lived at home. They rigged lights along the length of the stalls so
everyone could see the animals.
Uncle Jim and Bob
dressed in their costumes they had made from feed sacks. Jim had a beard left
over from the time he portrayed Abraham Lincoln in a Fourth of July pageant.
They took their stations inside the ark and waited for their visitors.
One feature
of the tour that Uncle Jim had come up with was to fill four or five 55-gallon drums
with water and send it coursing down the length of the stable. Bob pointed out that the flood was outside
the ark, not inside, but Uncle Jim said he liked the effect. Who was to say that there wasn’t some water
inside the ark?
Their first
guests of the evening happened to be a Brownie troop of about twenty little
girls. Bob and Uncle Jim could hear Dot talking to them. The troop walked in, herded
by their leaders.
“Welcome to
Noah’s Ark!” exclaimed Uncle Jim. “I’m only dressed as Noah—I’m still Uncle Jim.” Uncle Jim was
nothing if not honest. “This is my son
Shem, who is actually my nephew Bob.” That was Bob’s cue to go around and pull
the lever that would tip the barrels of water.
The troop of
Brownies was about halfway down the line of stalls when the barrels fell over
with resounding crashes and about 2500 gallons of water came rushing along the
floor. It wasn’t enough to wash even the smallest girl away, but it frightened
them. And they did what frightened children do: they screamed. The animals, startled by the high unearthly
noise, slammed against their stalls. With strength born of panic, they broke
out and stampeded down the ramp.
Fortunately, the girls were far enough removed from the larger animals
not to be harmed by them. They were
still shrieking as their leaders removed them.
Bob and Uncle Jim
straggled out of the barn. “Flood must be over,” Dot observed. “Guess it’s time for Noah to round up his
animals.”
Bob and Uncle Jim
gathered up what animals they could that evening, and the rest came back when
it was feeding time. Uncle Jim’s only comment was that they wouldn’t have to clean
the barn floor that week. Bob was glad.
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