"How did the poison affect Noah?" Na&apos;amah asked her sister.
"After he drank from the goblet he let out the largest belch I&apos;ve ever heard in my life," Skippy answered. "Other than that, nothing I know of. He&apos;s a big strong man, much bigger than me. Maybe it only affects women. To this day he still believes I drank the poison that night."
"You never bore Noah a child?"
Skippy smiled. "I did. And a fine young man he is growing up to be. I can&apos;t wait for you to meet my boy. Noah said it was a miracle, a gift from God. He named our son Ham. I call him Hamzilla, in honor of our mother. I owe her his life and perhaps even mine."
"Praise be our mother Zilla," the sisters said in unison. The two collapsed in giggles as they remembered the many times they uttered the same phrase sarcastically when they were younger. Laughter gave way to tears. The twins held each other close and wept. It felt so good to be reunited, but they missed their mother more than ever before. What they wouldn&apos;t give to have their mother in their arms at that moment. They owe all that they have and all that they are to Zilla&apos;s strength and vision.
Na&apos;amah and Skippy cuddled together all night in the cot, plotting and scheming.
"What would mother do in this circumstance?" the sisters asked themselves.
The two came up with a plan for the next day. Skippy looked forward to a whole day of rest while Na&apos;amah served in her stead. Na&apos;amah would help the other wives prepare breakfast and lunch. After lunch she would show Noah the Shamir.
Na&apos;amah got up bright and early in the morning. She dressed in Skippy&apos;s clothes and did her best to remember the names of the women she worked with in the kitchen, but out of fear of getting them all mixed up, she kept quiet and only spoke when spoken to.
"Where&apos;s my favorite ladle?" Arbasisah, Japheth&apos;s wife, asked in a big booming voice.
"They&apos;ve packed it for the ark, praise the Lord," Salib, Shem&apos;s wife, replied.
"So soon? There&apos;s nothing but a pile of timber out there," Arbasisah protested.
"Skippy, hand Arbasisah a ladle from the cabinet," Emzara ordered. Emzara was Noah&apos;s first wife, the old woman Na&apos;amah met on the path the day before.
Na&apos;amah took a deep breath and tried her best to keep her composure. She looked at a row of cabinets, opened the one closest to her. There was no ladle. Only plates.
"Oh, Skippy. Only good for one thing," Emzara spat. "I&apos;ll get it myself."
Sambethe, Ham&apos;s wife, narrowed her eyes at her mother-in-law. She was all too aware of Skippy&apos;s low status in the family. One wrong move and Skippy, Ham, and Sambethe may not be going on the ark after all. Sambethe had to make sure everyone knew whose side she was on.
"I&apos;ll get it, Emzara," Sambethe jumped to action and produced a ladle from one of the cabinets. "Here you go, Arbasisah."
"I&apos;m sorry," Na&apos;amah said. "I&apos;m a little out of sorts this morning. That time of the month must be approaching."
Na&apos;amah tried to stay out of trouble all the way through breakfast, which was laid out on a large open buffet table for all of the workers. Na&apos;amah was relieved that she didn&apos;t have to make morning pleasantries with Noah or any of his sons. The men were preoccupied with plans for the workday ahead of them.
After washing dishes, she hung her apron and headed out of the large kitchen with a basket. The hanging of her apron was the final straw for Sambethe. Even though the hooks did not have names painted over them, Skippy should have known better than to hang her apron on Sambethe&apos;s hook. Sambethe rolled her eyes and followed Skippy as she left the building. Something was going on with Skippy and she intended to find out what.