Margaret's Ark

two of her students in the hall run in the direction of the main office, Margaret knew she needed to collect her daughters from school before word got to them or, worse, their teachers.

*     *     *

She closed the bedroom door, careful not to let the click of the latch wake the girls. It took a while for them to fall to sleep, even at this late hour. Little Robin had asked the bulk of the questions, sweet, innocent curiosity about her mother's visions and God's warning to the world. Katie was able to ask a few of her own, but for the most part simply cried out her fear - of what Margaret told them after supper and the fact that her mother was actually saying these things at all.

The world to a seven year-old is frightening enough to a little girl, without her mother saying the world was about to be destroyed. Margaret had played out the day mostly as a ruse, explaining that she wanted to surprise the girls with a short school day and take them to McDonald's, then the latest Disney flick. This she did. In truth, she was hiding, not wanting to face anyone from school in person or on the phone. She’d turned off her cell after leaving work and it remained off. As the day wore on, she became increasingly uncertain. How was she supposed to sit her children down and explain that God had chosen her for such a frightening thing? Maybe she really was insane.

They’d been sitting at home watching Wheel of Fortune, Margaret wondering how to talk with the girls, not wanting to begin at all, when the evening's false calm was shattered by a phone call from Robert Kaufman, the high school principal

“Margaret, what was that all about today? I had two girls come into my office crying, saying Mrs. Carboneau is telling everyone that they’re going to die.”

“I'm sorry, Bob. I really am.” Again, she felt on the edge of some abyss, waiting to see if she'd have the guts to step off, to see how much she trusted herself.

“And?” Margaret wondered if the principal had waited to call until now to let some of this anger dissipate. She glanced over at the answering machine - something she'd avoided doing all evening. The red light was flashing, and above that the number '12'. Since the chip had a storage limit, she guessed the number of unrecorded calls was even higher.

He continued, “Is what they said true? Not that I didn't try to find this out as soon as the girls came in. No, ma’am. I called you into the office, and you know what?”

Margaret didn't think he was done, so she remained quiet.

“I'll tell you what. I found out from Irene that Mrs. Carboneau had left the school. That you left your students alone, in an emotional mess. A lot of them were crying when I showed up, Margaret. Some weren't scared about what you'd told them, just that you said it at all. 'Is Mrs. Carboneau having a nervous breakdown?' they asked me. Margaret are you there?”

“I'm here. Are you done?” Her voice was stronger than she'd expected, a tone that meant she'd already taken that last fateful step into whatever chasm these dreams had laid in front of her.

“Yes, for now. I apologize for shouting. It's been a rough day and I haven't been able to reach you.” He didn't sound sorry. Kaufman was simply trying a new tact.

“I took the girls out of school early,” she said. “I needed to let some of the heat blow over.”

“You mean you wanted to let me take all the....” He sighed. “Listen, how much of what they said is true? What happened?”

She felt lightheaded. “The other day,” she began, “I had a dream. But it wasn't a dream after all. An angel informed me that the world will be flooded in two months, and everyone will die, unless I and others receiving these visions build a boat – he actually used the word ark --  and bring on board thirty people. No animals, just people. Everyone aboard the boats, wherever they might me, will be spared, and the rest will not.” She said all this calmly, like giving directions to a wandering motorist.

Silence on the other end of the phone.

She leaned one hand against the door jamb between the kitchen and the living room. “I've had more than one dream, and now I know that it wasn't just me. A lot of others have been given this warning as well. We don't have a lot of time - “

“Are you completely insane? I heard something like that on the radio, and assumed it was just a few psychopaths. Are you telling me one of them was you?”

“No, I haven't called anyone.”

“You decided to spread this mania to your students instead!” Now he was shouting.

“I had to make a decision, Bob. What if it's not a dream? What if I do nothing? I've only been given the right to save thirty people, and yes, maybe I am having a nervous breakdown, but it doesn't feel like that. It feels right!” Now she was yelling. She stopped, closed her eyes. Why was she wasting her breath with this man? She should be -

Oh, no . Margaret turned around. Robin and Katie were staring in horror from the couch in the living room. Someone shouted “R” from the television, and there were “two of them”. Ding. Ding.

Margaret couldn't pull her eyes from her daughters' faces.

“I assume you aren't returning to your classroom, Mrs. Carboneau. Not until you and I have met, and you've given me certified proof from a licensed psychologist that you're able to -”

Margaret wasn't listening. She hung up the phone, and walked slowly to her reserved spot on the couch.

“S!”.

“No S's. Amy, it's your spin.”

She reached for the remote and shut off the television. The phone rang. She ignored it. “Come on, girls, let's talk in your room.”

Eleven Fifty-Six. Coming on midnight and the girls had been sleeping for nearly two hours.

Eleven Fifty-Seven. Three more minutes until a new day. Fifty-four days and three minutes until a billion souls were lost. Or saved. Maybe. Maybe not. How many people would actually do this thing?

She'd stepped into a new world, one which terrified Katie but filled her younger daughter with excitement. God had spoken to her Mommy, just like the people they talk about in Sunday School. That was how Robin had phrased it. Margaret didn't think girls her age ever paid attention in those classes. Serves her right for never volunteering to teach them.

Midnight. Time floated away. Margaret leaned on the couch in the darkened living room and stared out through the picture window to an empty street. She played out what David the angel had shown her. Even to her previously untrained mind, the design seemed flimsy. Most of the ship would be constructed of plywood, material she could get at any home supply store. She turned her head and gazed out at her Taurus station wagon. She played out the dimensions of the wood. There was no way even one sheet would fit in the back. She’d have to measure the tailgate, see what might fit. There were the support beams, two-by-fours, and the glue, and tape and... she needed to build the thing in the middle of the town, in front of everyone.

So many things, all of them nuts. She was a middle-aged women in the twenty-first century in the same position that Noah found himself in... how long ago... five thousand years? Ten? Depends whom you asked, she supposed.

Margaret buried her face in the crook of her arm and cried herself to sleep. She awoke in the same position, early morning light casting the former nightscape into sharp detail. After a few minutes of staring at the houses across the street, now and then a neighbor hurrying off to work, she realized she hadn't dreamt. In a way, she missed talking to David. If anything, for those few moments when he visited her, what was going to happen next felt like the right thing to do.

Fifty-four days. She’d fallen down a rabbit hole into some new world. No climbing out now, so she might as well get to work. Margaret got stiffly up from the couch and wondered what time the lumber store opened.

54

The rock sitting in Margaret's stomach lessened somewhat as the morning waned. After checking that her phone's battery was juiced up and the signal clean, Margaret had to believe her daughters weren't having too bad a time of it in school. She'd made a decision to let Katie and Robin go in, if for no other reason than to free her to do some initial errands with minimal distraction. She left her cell number with both girls, along with a note for their respective teachers. If anyone bothered them, they or the school were to go to the office call her and she'd come