The Ark

Author's note: These chapters are NOT stand-alones...The story starts here.

What was and what will be...9

The school year has begun.

Until I got Eva to enroll in college, she was offering to take Reyna to school on the bike, but she doesn’t have a license. No one here seems to care about such legalities, but I do. I had declined her offer to relieve me of the task for that reason, but now, she is riding a bike to get to college. I can’t win for losing.

Eva is on a teaching track. She wants to teach math.

I haven’t seen Debbie, though Reyna tells me she is at the school and asks about Eva. When Reyna tells Debbie that Eva is attending Leyte Normal University, Debbie cries.

Reyna asks her why she is crying and, according to Reyna, Debbie says, How such a bad and evil man do such a good thing? I will do whatever he make me do, if he do this for a child! Why he so mean to me and so good to others?

Reyna tells me she doesn’t know what to say, so she just holds her teacher for a bit before getting on with her day. Nothing more is said later.

Cincer has gotten Nelia a job where she is the bookkeeper, and word has it that Lorie may also get hired next month.

Bim and Jessa will take care of the house. Our peripatetic Ann has become a fixer connected with Tacloban city hall and in the city of Catbalogan, Samar’s provincial capital. She tends to be out of the house early each day and returns only after the government offices close. The only days she is likely to be around are when there’s a government holiday.

Ann did report on something of a commotion the other day. It seems like my architect is well regarded in the government offices in Catbalogan, and our potential project is being discussed up there. It’s so different that it has caused some consternation.

The question arises to me, how can our project be discussed and I don’t even have a drawing?

And so, this morning I’m meeting the architect with the hope that I’ll return with the drawing that seems to be circulating in the provincial capital offices.

I have a preliminary sketch. The reason for the commotion in Catbalogan, it turns out, is that the design is not in compliance with the building code. It’s not that it isn’t good. It’s more like they had not considered a structure like it when the codes were created. That’s why my architect got the provincial government involved.

As of this moment, there’s no decision as to whether I’ll be allowed to even build the thing. It’s a little bit frustrating, but it’s nice to know that they take their building codes seriously. They are most concerned with earthquakes. It makes sense, as we have them here. But the issue of massive storm surges and tsunamis are not factored in.

I gather some up in Catbalogan think I’m an alarmist.

Once I explain all this to my gals during supper, following my time with the architect, and with the drawings in hand, we have a lively discussion at the table.

Cincer and Bim are in agreement with my skeptics. Nelia is giggling, which stops all conversation cold as all eyes focus on her.

Ira, remember? … I say you take two from Manila, two from Panay, and two from Leyte and Samar. Now we add two more from Samar… Always pairs! Like Noah! Debbie not a pair she so not allowed! And Ira! Now you will build the Ark! … Ira, you doing what God Jesus want! He want us to have an ark. You must build it. It must happen, my love. You are building an Ark for us!

I guess I should be grateful that Debbie did not come with a plus-one, or that would have made it a pair, and Nelia would think I would need to accept the gal.

Crazy as Nelia’s beliefs sounds, it also stops any criticism. It has been resolved. The Ark must be built. Ann looks troubled, but it’s Jessa, in a quiet moment later after supper, who asks me, Ira? You really hear God tell you? You do this for Him?

No, Jessa, I don’t think so. But they say that God works in mysterious ways. This wasn’t even my idea for a design. It was the architect’s. I know Nelia believes it is God’s will. I never thought any such thing. But I guess I have to ask you, does it matter? Is it important that God should be directing me? What if we never need what the building offers in the manner of safety? Was I just a crazy old man who had silly fears?

I not know. I hear from a preacher. He tell us about crazy prophets. He tell us about Isaiah who walk around naked! About Jeremiah and something call a cattle yoke, like we use for carabao! He tell us about others, but he say God was in them. Maybe this like that!

So I’m a crazy prophet?

Jessa smiles, kisses me and says, Maybe. Maybe just crazy! And kisses me again.

But eventually, Ann does approach me. Ira, maybe I can help.

How?

Help get you the permit.

How?

It what I do. You know.

Really? You can fix what the architect can’t?

I think, yes. It OK that I try?

Yes and no. I do not want a permit yet, as I don’t have the cost for the project. The architect doesn’t want to price it out until the provincial government tells us we can build such a thing. It’s a lot of work for nothing if there will neither be the possibility of a permit allowing us to use such a design. What we need is for the Samar government to agree to accept such a plan if submitted. If you can do that, then yes, but, let me tell him what you will be doing before you start.

Sige na.

Explaining to a man in his fifties that a sixteen-year-old will fix what he has been unable to do, takes some tact, something that I’m not known to have in abundant supply.

So, instead of presenting it as a fact, I present it as my crazy friend is convinced that she can do what the adults can’t and, to keep peace here, I’m going to allow her to try her hardest and will not demean her when she fails. The guy laughs and says something to the extent of, might as well. He doesn’t think she can do any real damage.

He thinks it’s pretty funny, and so the call ends without rancor. Truth be told, I suspect Ann just may succeed. She has a talent when it comes to working the system.

I haven’t heard any more from Ann on the matter of the building design and the provincial government. The architect is not having any luck either. I’m frustrated. We are fast approaching September and nothing has happened.

I’ve not heard from Debbie at all. Reyna mentions her infrequently.

Every once in a while, there are meetings for ‘parents’ at the high school and, weird as it seems, these days I’m expected to attend with Jessa. I do see Debbie when I’m there, but she keeps her distance from me. Other teachers do not stay away, however, and that gets a little dicey. Luckily, my sweet Reyna is not heavy with child, and having Jessa on my arm allows all to behave as if I’m a quasi-step-father.

Reyna tells me most of them actually know better, but we all play our part as in a Noel Coward comedy of manners. It does make for some hilarity at the supper table, as Reyna and Jessa frequently relate what was originally said in Cebuano that I had not understood at the time, and the others are just now learning about.

Things are stable and quiet here. We are happy with each other. And if there’s any friction at all, I’m truly unaware of it. But, I’m really beginning to strongly dislike this house. In all other ways, things are fine.

Nelia and Lorie are gone most days because of employment. It’s just Bim and Jessa with me most days. Throughout the work week, the others show up at the end of the day only.

Spending my time with just the two of them hasn’t changed my relationship with Bim, but it has with Jessa. This is maybe going to sound as crazy in its own way as Nelia sounds about Jesus. I know all the gals say they love me, and I really do love all of them, but this thing with Jessa… it’s taking on proportions of emotional commitment that have me wondering if this is what is meant when you hear someone say, ‘We were made for each other.’

All I have to do is begin thinking of something and Jessa is already making it happen, or getting it, or… answering that which was not asked yet. It’s a combination of thrilling and spooky as all hell.

Yes, there’s a sexual component to it and that is beyond great, but it’s far more than that. It’s the everyday, the mundane. It’s the being handed ibuprofen for a headache, when I just this moment realized I had a headache. It’s seeing a dress in a shop window and Jessa saying, I agree. She will like it. I was thinking of Bim, but I never said a word. I never said anything. How did she know I was even looking at the dress? It’s not science fiction. She just gets me on a really basic level. She tells me I was rubbing my forehead and that told her I had a headache. She is paying attention… to me, all the time.

And to think, the only reason she is with me is that her partner became a drug user and they split up. It’s so fucking random.

There’s sad news from the USA. I don’t follow things back in the States very much but this has become international news.

There has been a hurricane in the US that, for a while I guess, was listed as a category five. It was maybe a category three by the time it made landfall, not nearly as bad, but New Orleans is under water. I guess the levees were topped or there was a storm surge, or maybe it was just a more damaging storm than folks assumed. Hell, there’s no way to know from here.

Anyway, it’s a mess. People are stranded, starving and some are dying. I hear news of incompetent governmental responses, but that may just be Monday morning quarterbacking. I sure don’t know.

What it has done, locally, is moved some in provincial government to reconsider my proposed house plan. It was not done at the architect’s urging; it was at Ann’s intercession.

Sixteen-year-old Ann tells me she got in their faces and said, ‘The climate is changing. Even big powerful nations can’t cope. We need to change our attitude. Just because we haven’t had big storms and tsunamis yet doesn’t mean they’re not coming. The world is changing!’

Enough of them bought it that, though Ann didn’t initially know she had been successful. The architect got a call afterward that they will approve it if we still want to go ahead with the plan. I’m told that a cost analysis is in process. I should have the numbers in a couple of weeks.

Nelia’s pregnant. She has known, or at least suspected, for three months, but it’s official now. At the end of October she will end her employment. She has seen a doctor and all is fine.

This house just doesn’t work for us. I’m in the process of grouching to all of the gals that we have to do something about that very thing, when I get a call from the architect. He has the numbers on a four pod house complex. It’s a rain free day and I ride over on the bike to get them.

We can do it. Surprisingly so! But the four pod design, as it is now, isn’t going to work if we have a lot of children. Looking at the numbers, it seems like adding another pod is not much more costly than adding another floor on an existing pod. The architect tells me it will also be safer, and gives us more roof area for solar panels and wind turbines.

So we are now at five independent pods with floating walkways that can move somewhat or just break away if needed, allowing each pod to move independently. Small movements will not cause the loss of the walkway. There’s a flex and telescope function allowing for some movement, but there’s that breakaway if all goes to hell.

The carpark will be accessed via a ramp. At the bottom of that pod will be a concrete pad that will extend out beyond the pod, but the ramp will not be attached to it. It’s connected to the car park structure and can be raised/tilted and slid in tightly underneath the carpark floor level via electric motors and cables. During the day, we can leave the vehicles on the lower pad, but at night we can put them in the carpark and roll up the ramp.

The design of all the pods quasi-floating on the pilings way up high means that, as the ramp is pulled up at night, we really don’t need a ‘fence’ to protect the house.

However, to secure everything else that would have been on the ground and needing a fence, I have to move all I might have otherwise put in a free-standing shed, up on the carpark. Rather than solid walls on the level, we will have a chain-link walled room for that stuff.

I kid the architect and suggest we attach boat anchorage to the outside of the Carpark. He must think I am serious! A drawing I have in front of me has it drawn in! I tell the girls I’ll have him remove it, but Nelia wants it to stay. That doesn’t surprise me one bit, but no, it’s gotta go.

The most expensive elements for the house are the safety glass panels for the exterior walls, and all the louvers that will be custom made to provide shade and protect the glass during major storms.

I’ll say this for the design, it will be the only one like it in the Philippines. I agree to the design and, though we do not have the stamps from the government yet, the steel beams have been ordered. All the exposed steel will be powder coated black.

The birthday season is upon us. I turned sixty-seven last week. Lorie’s birthday is just around the corner.

Time! Time just slides by. As there are no real seasons like we have in the States, you just don’t notice it and then, holly shit, it’s been a year!

Cincer and Ann are pregnant! Three pregnant gals. Who’s next? Jesus, I need this house built!

Cincer’s employers don’t want her to quit. That pleases her in one way, but she doesn’t want to work after the birth. She hasn’t really decided what she wants to do.

We now have officially approved plans. The steel is on site and we are pounding the posts in and then welding them to the horizontal I-beams three meters below ground. Other vertical I-beams, sitting on top of the horizontal beams, attach in a way that allows them to slide back and forth a little. Once the next level’s horizontal beams are in place, the crossbeams are also welded and bolted in to the upper beam and to their mate, but use the same sliding technology as at the base.

It allows the house to sort of float above the foundation, and be safe when the ground shifts during earthquakes, while preventing it from being washed away by massive water events. This is one of the issues that caused so much of a problem in the permitting process.

It’s slow getting the basics installed, but I’m told once that’s done the rest happens pretty quickly. As we don’t have any concrete in the house, there aren’t issues of allowing for curing times until we pour the pad for the driveway and, as that is not weight bearing, the delay is minimal. Plus the ‘floating technology’ is not used on the upper levels, so the bolting and welding happens very quickly.

We have dug a well. I place a very large septic tank with leach field quite a ways away from it. Until the house is up, we have a temporary water holding tank for use during construction.

There’s commercial electric service, provided by Samelco II, of a minimal type. As we expect to generate most of our own electric, I’m hoping that we won’t need very much of the Samelco II service. So, even though the house isn’t up, we have water and power. A crude toilet and sink has been fabricated with some plywood walls to provide some privacy, though it’s without a proper roof. It has a tarp covering to keep the sun and rain off, and the damned thing threatens to blow away frequently enough.

Now that the crazy prepper comment has been fully accepted as something I’ll just have to live with, and as I’ve accepted the suggestions about solar and wind, my new long-term idea and goal is to live ‘off-grid’ as much as possible.

I’m looking into storage batteries, but so far I think the thing to do is wait on that. I read that newer technology batteries will be coming in a few years.

There are lithium-ion batteries now, but they can catch fire, especially when they get hot, and we specialize in ‘hot’ here. They also lose efficiency when too warm. There are technologies to cool them, but that pretty much defeats the reason to have them. I guess if you are using them in a car in a cooler climate, you can cool them via air flow, but I don’t see the point in it unless we are generating enough excess power that cooling them doesn’t really amount to a real significant loss of stored capacity or limited supply.

That’s something I’ll only be able to evaluate once we have the solar system in place and in use.

But, with our own water and our own power, so long as the house stands and we have enough food, we will be OK. I’ve been reading up on the type of people called ‘preppers.’ When I look at them, I see people with bunkers and weapons, radiation protection and storerooms of MRE’s enough for years. I’m not expecting that type of Armageddon. It’s natural disasters and the aftermath of such that is my concern.

If shit can go as bad, and it sure has in New Orleans, imagine how bad it might get in a third-world nation such as this. On the positive side, it’s so much cheaper to build here that the cost of proactive mitigation is not only really possible, but possible with some amount of style and class.

I’m spending all my days at our property. After taking Reyna to school, I travel to our land and stay until it’s time to pick Reyna up at four-thirty. Jessa brings me a lunch each day so I can stay out here.

Ann is really happy that our storable ramp for the vehicles will provide us with added security from the kawatan¹ if we retract it each night. I had not been thinking about it, but Ann insists that our new home will attract bad men.

I mention it to the engineer. He agrees and then adds, It is good that you use it every day. Then you know it will work if the bad weather comes. If you not use it regularly, maybe it not work when needed? Yeh, maybe. He’s got a point.

The architect rarely comes by, but the engineer has been keeping a close eye on the creation of this radically different foundation. Ann tells me that some of the folks in the permitting office are leaning on him for regular updates and reports. The engineer tells me that, because of the nature of the project, we can plan to move in to the place before next Christmas. That thought excites me.

Speaking of Christmas, this is what the gals call the ‘ber’ months. From September through December, the ber months comprise their Christmas Season.

Christmas is only a few days off now. It will be my first in the tropics, and the vibe is very different here. Maybe it’s that the weather does not announce it as in the States. Maybe it’s that I’ve been seeing Christmas displays for four months now, and it loses its specialness in a way because of the commonness of it.

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1 - Thief.

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What was and what will be...10