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Then The Deluge Comes (The Generations) (Volume 2)

By Caryl McAdoo

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Chapter One


The shofar’s blast stopped Lamech mid-swing. He dropped the sickle and ran.
“Wait, Son. Padam will not die until we get there.” His father tied the last sheath then set it in place.
Lamech turned and waited. The old man—except at only two hundred forty-three years, Methuselah, son of Enoch, seventh from Adam—could work a full day and more. His father soon caught up, and Lamech walked in silence for a few strides.
“You really think his time has come? Last month when he brought us the gopher saplings, he looked like his same old self.”
Methuselah grinned, then became solemn. “Seth reported Padam told him that he could feel the end in his bones.”
“He is nine hundred and thirty years. A long life, but still….” Lamech left that thought for another he hated, but why not ask? It wouldn’t be prudent to bring the matter up around his father’s fathers. “What about his and Meve’s rooms?”
“What?” His father chuckled. “You want them? Your mother and I have no interest in moving. We love our suite.”
“I like that bath of theirs, twice the size of mine.”
“Say nothing, but should it fall to me, you may have the suite.”
He also wanted to inquire about the painting of Lion and Lamb, but knew for a fact neither that masterpiece nor any of the other pictures the first man had painted would come to him. Too many firstborns ahead, with him being the youngest of the generations, but still, Lamech loved none more than the beautiful depiction of Lion and Lamb.
Such colors, so vibrant and beautiful.
Bless God. Someday, it would all be his.
Three steps and repentance welled, crowding his heart. He wanted Padam and all the other elders, not their things. His blessings were plenty enough; he possessed so much more than he’d ever need.
Once inside the grand stone and brick home, Lamech followed father to Padam and Meve’s suite. He loved the first man’s home and could hardly think of the ancient one building the first rooms and main halls all alone. Living under the same roof as his elders brought such comfort.
It filled him with a sense of his place in time as the years had marched on.
But now everything would change.
He took his place beside the bed. Padam looked to Seth first then went around to each eldest son until his gaze rested on Lamech. “Eight generations.” He lifted Meve’s hand. “The Lord blessed us indeed, Mother.”
Smiling, she nodded, but said nothing. The centuries had robbed her hair of color, left it as white as the clouds, billowing around her face. So pale and old, yet beautiful. Her eye still held its sparkle.
“Today, my sons, we will die, as one day will all of you men.” His gaze fell on Enoch. “You, my son…. God has wonderful plans. You will.…”
“What Padam?”
“Continue seeking the Lord, walk in His ways…. He has something very special in store. You will not be disappointed.”
Grandfather Enoch nodded as though he, too, knew he walked a different path. Padam breathed in a full breath, as deep as seemed possible, yet his chest barely lifted.
“Evil has overtaken the sons of Cain. The Lord says His Spirit will not always strive with man. You must continue with preparations.”
Padam looked to Lamech’s father. “Methuselah, the gopher trees flourish?”
“Yes, sir. They thrive.”
“You will need a forest of them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do not forsake the sin offerings, my sons.”
Around the bed, the grandfathers all voiced agreement, as did Lamech.
“Come, lean down, hear what the Lord would have me say to you, individually.”
One by one, the first man, fashioned by God’s own hand, spoke to his son and his son’s sons, placing his hand on their heads and speaking softly to each. Lamech’s turn came and he bent low his ear close to Padam’s mouth.
“Be strong, my son, gird your loins with righteousness and choose wisely.” The first man pulled him close, kissed his cheek as he had so many times when only a boy, then patted his head. Lamech leaned back.
“Blessings to you all.” He wrapped his arm around Meve, drew up his legs and closed his eyes.
Then, as they had lived all of her life, Adam and Eve, the world’s first couple, drew their last breath and entered death together.



Downward, Adam floated. Eve’s arms wrapped tight around him, but seemed so much stronger now. He held her firmly. Winged men surrounded him, slowing his descent, and his wife snuggled in closer, covering her scar in his side like she had so many times in the past. Blue sky, greenery, and flowers, just as he’d seen in the vision.
Then it all vanished, and he found himself back in Eden. The Great I Am Himself, bent down on one knee and scooped a handful of clay.
The Father’s heart swelled with love as he fashioned his man. Tears welled as Adam witnessed his own creation and knew Abba’s overwhelming, everlasting love. What a wonderful gift, being allowed to see such a marvel. Then the first time he successfully climbed onto Lion’s back and raced through the garden with his hands flung high into the air. He laughed aloud.
What fun!
How he had missed his old friend, yet so many years passed without thinking of him in the valley. Hadn’t realized how lonely he was without his Lion and all the rest to run and romp with. And now, he’d see Him again and be able to thank Him for His great sacrifice, repent for his sin that had separated him from the best friend he’d ever known.
“Look, beloved, Abba is putting me in your arms.” The baby girl wailed then cooed.
“Yes, and not the first time I’d deal with your crying.” He pulled his wife even tighter and grinned. “The happiest day of my entire life. Oh, I love you, woman.” Then it all disappeared as his feet touched down.
“Padam, Meve! It’s been so long.” Abel and his sister stood in front of a large crowd. Hundreds of folks smiled and welcomed him and his beloved.
He opened his arms wide and his daughter ran into them. “Dear Sheriah, how I’ve missed you.” He’d spoken, though no sound made it to his ears. Very strange. He held her long and joy filled his soul. Then, his daughter traded places with Abel and hugged her mother while he and his gone-too-young boy reunited.
Utter bliss filled him to see them both again.
“Who are all these people, Son?”
Though Abel opened his mouth, before any words passed his lips, a fog engulfed Adam. Abel wrapped an arm around his shoulder, as Sheriah did her mother. “Come, Padam. I’ll show you your new home, and you may rest before meeting everyone. We’ve all of eternity for introductions.”



987 years after creation

After patting the dirt around the last sapling, Lamech stood and leaned on the shovel. The new stand of gopher trees warmed his heart, but how many more would he need? Not counting the sprouts, the grove had grown to over five thousand trees. He faced his father.
“Any idea how many more we’ll need?”
Methuselah laughed. “Any idea how long I will live?”
Using the shovel like a staff, he joined him, chuckling, and fell in beside the older man he loved and respected with his whole heart. Could a son love his father more?
How Abba blessed him.
“Well, let’s see, we celebrated the three hundredth anniversary of your birth last month, so I say you’re still a young man, barely reaching your prime. At least another six hundred and thirty years, maybe more.”
“Who knows? Just because Padam lived that long does not mean we all will.”
“Father Seth is already over eight-fifty, and his beard not even completely grayed yet.”
“True, but your grandfather is already totally white-headed. How do you explain that?”
“I cannot, unless it’s all that time he spends on God’s Mountain.”
Methuselah fell silent a few steps then stopped when he stepped out of the forest’s shade and that very peak came into view. “Each year since Mother’s death, he spends more time on the summit.”
Lamech wanted to kick himself. He should have known. Hated it of all the mothers, his Gram would be the first to follow Meve. “One fine day.”
His father turned his face from the mountain then looked to Lamech. “Yes, Son, one fine day indeed, but until, we have much to do. I’m not getting any younger.”
“Oh, you’ll probably live to be a thousand.”
Again, he and his father fell in step together and walked in unison up the hill toward the big house Padam had started, but each of the firstborns had added to. Lamech’s suite needed so much work, but then his sister was only ten. He had plenty of time. Except, did he?
If what he’d been seeing in his dreams proved anything like what he needed to build, then he might need an extra thousand years to get ready. And he’d certainly need his father’s help, too. What a gargantuan task. He could hardly imagine the trees to be felled once they matured.
A rumbling boom froze Lamech. The mountain shook. Two long shofar blasts sounded louder than any horn he’d ever heard. A tiny spark of blue crackled around the peak then expanded wide over the summit, racing around, encircling the mountain top. He’d never seen anything like it.
“Is Grandfather there?”
Without taking his eyes from the erupting skies, Methuselah wagged his head. “I do not think so.”
A fiery horse burst through the blue circle of light. The steed tossed his mane, pulling a two-wheeled cart. Two songs sung by a thousand voices filled the valley. A chill raced up Lamech’s spine. His heartbeat quickened. What was happening? Never anything like that when Abba accepted his sacrifices the few times the lot fell to him.
“Hurry, Son.” Methuselah pulled up his tunic and ran. “It’s just as my dream. We must run.”
“What dream?” Lamech didn’t wait for an answer, but sprinted to catch up.
The horse and cart swooped downward. Six of the firstborns and their wives stood on the porch of the big house. The other sons and daughters ran in from all directions. Grandfather strolled to the clearing beyond Meve’s garden. He reached the grassy area just as Methuselah and Lamech neared.
Enoch nodded at his firstborn. “Blessings, my Son. Tell your mother that I love her.”
Methuselah reached out his hand, but the horse and fiery chariot swung low. His father rose from the ground as if a bird and was somehow lifted, as by the hand of God, caught up into the chariot. Just then Lamech’s mother ran from the house.
“Father!”
He waved from the blazing barrow. “Shalom, daughter. We will all be together again after the reconciliation.”
Away the stallion raced toward the crackling circle of blue light. The songs increased to deafening level, then once his grandfather disappeared and the circle closed, the quiet proved almost as deafening. Only his mother’s gentle sobs broke the silence.
His father knelt beside his wife and held her tight.



The war songs faded then vanished, but Adam continued to stare at the sky’s rend. An extra-large winged man he didn’t recognize floated downward through the circle. With only two easy flaps of his mighty wings the angel glided to the grass a few arms’ lengths away. From the being’s size and Abel’s description, he must be Abba’s messenger.
“Greetings.”
“Gabriel, right?”
“Yes.” The archangel smiled. “Enoch made it through. Evil could not waylay the fiery chariot.”
“Excellent. Will the builders return now?”
“No, Michael’s legions were decimated. Did you not hear?”
“I heard, but my ears….” Adam shrugged. “Might you ask Abba if I could watch the next battle, then perhaps I could see better with my eyes than my ears can hear.”
“I will repeat your request, but He knows already. Namrel says He knows our words even before we speak them—or think them.”
“Namrel’s the old cherub, right? The one who stayed with Abel so long ago?”
“First of the Cherubim, yes.” Gabriel spread his wings. “Peace be with you, first man. I must fly now. The Lord has need of this one.”
“Wait. What about the builders? When will they return? The babies are coming by the handfuls each day.”
The angel shrugged. “The watch should change soon. Perhaps they will come back then, but evil grows stronger. Violence and sin fills the world.” Gabriel pulled hard and shot skyward. Another flap and he disappeared through the portal. Two notes sounded, and the circle sparked and crackled as it closed.
Adam sank to his knees and bowed his head to the ground. “Oh, Abba, my sin…it multiplies and threatens to ruin the world You love so much.”

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