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