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Noah & his Ark
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This is a book written and published by a good friend of ours. A whole chapter in it is
about Noah (John) and his Ark (Mahuffer's).
Closing Time and After Hours
A Novel by Tennyson-Moon (a very good friend of ours and a
wonderful person)
Lesley Hamilton provides you with an up-close and personal view into her life
as
she takes you on her journey in search of her-Self and her spiritual growth. She's
intent on finding a route that may enable her to heal, and rid herself of the ever-
present pain stemming from ongoing Sexual Abuse experienced since her early
childhood. Though Lesley's soulful trek takes you through ominous territories and
over bridges spanning most troubling waters, you will frequently find yourself filled
with laughter, for Lesley's vehicle is her bright and positive thought fueled by her
vivid sense of humor.
Chapter 24
Noah and his Ark
Page 261
Now, let me tell you, even if you've traveled to both ends of the
earth, you have never experienced a place like Noah's Ark. It has got to be one of the
most unusual places anywhere and it's owned by a most unusual old man of infamous renown.
One might first assess him to be a crotchety old recluse and in a sense perhaps, that is
true! However, he completely contradicts that theory once you get to know him for, beneath
his gruff exterior is buried a warm and kindhearted man. (Though Law officials and
politicians may be of a different opinion... But, hey, what do they know?)
Noah's home is his business and vice versa. He opens the doors to
anyone who possesses enough adventure in their spirit to brae entrance. Using the tiniest
of loopholes in the low and, any and every Grandfather clause ever written, he has owned
and operated a Drinking and Eating Establishment for thirty some-odd years within the
walls of this beaten down Shack he calls, Home.
He entices business by advertising" Warm Beer, Lousy Food... Wurst
place in town. Despite his claim of warm beer, the brew is actually the coldest in
town as he refuses to employ the use of conventional beer coolers.
Page 262
"Hell No! Those damn things are too expensive and they sure as
hell, are not dependable," he grumbles.
As an alternative, he gathers his ice from the antiquated, but reliable
Ice Machine he has standing just outside the door. He then packs it into numerous
Styrofoam Containers pre-filled with canned beer.
The kitchen is atrocious, but if you open the refrigerator, you'll find
the freshest meats and vegetables to be had. The main area of activity is a long
split-level L-shaped space. In the middle of this space sits a circular stone-based
fireplace with a metal hood that extends up and through the roof. Around this heating
device sits three couches, two lounging chairs and several coffee tables methodically
grouped to create an atmosphere conducive to good conversation and relaxation. A bar, able
to seat twenty thirsty patrons, extends down the side of the room on the North wall. A
pool table sits upon the upper level.
A glass sliding door separates the inside rooms from the rambling
cement patio off the back. Now, on this Patio, we find another bar and enough tables and
chairs scattered about to seat at least a hundred or more curious folk. The tables are
made from upside down surfboards and various other objects painted with colorful Key West
type designs. Extending beyond the cement patio and out beneath the stars is a wooden deck
with more tables gaily topped with yellow umbrellas...though most of the
Page 263
umbrellas had been removed just prior to the storm. Amidst this array of seating is a
rotted old sailboat where one, preferring privacy, may enjoy their cocktails by crawling
inside to the intimate little cabin.
Gaining entry into Noah's Ark, strange little place that it is,
requires keen awareness and agility. For, suspended from the already low ceilings is a
vast assortment of ornamental oddities. Cowbells hang and clang. Dangling shoulder straps
of various contoured Brassieres obtrusively threaten your lynching. Parrots shout
obscene and intimidating messages as you stroll beneath their metal cages. Misjudging your
coarse may cause brightly painted neon buoys to bounce off the side of your head or tangle
their vines in your hair as a means of avenging your lumbering ineptness.
Signs are displayed everywhere:
"Fat Girls Welcome!"
"If assholes could fly, this place would
be an airport!"
"Picture Spot"...that one hangs over
the pedestal-based toilet positioned on the far wall directly across from the entryway. An
old beat up Harley Davidson, geared to go nowhere, is kick standing in the right hand
corner. Oh yes, this is all true.
Page 264
On the wall to the left. you'll find the hull of still,
another old boat and from it's cabin extends the naked lower half of a mannequin. She
obviously couldn't take another day of being mauled by Sale Day shoppers at Macy's and so
, opted to dive aboard the first ship, leaving the East River.
Melodies stream from a vintage Nickelodeon which features the latest
hits of the forties era, along with some other tunes still waiting to make the Top Ten
Charts. Songs such as "Blow Me" sung by a Frank Sinatra sound-alike and "My
Little Pussy" with vocals done by some famous unknown in the style of Wee Bonnie
Baker.
Noah's living-quarters are tucked away in an off-limits area behind the
back walls of the kitchen and bar. His private space, however, adjoins the Publics domain
via a common toilet and shower stall in the back...a most unique arrangement, to say the
very least.
As I may have mentioned before, you'll hear Parrots and other Tropical
birds screeching loudly and constantly from their perches above. They torment not only the
patrons but also the assortment of cats lying lazily atop the bar, below. The only
inhabitant, who seems unaffected amidst this jungle and jubilee of junk decor, is Ira. Ira
is the shaggy old dog with the kerchief around his neck. He meanders slowly about in
search of a table uninhabited by humans, beneath which he can comfortable lay and attend
to his fleas.
Page 265
If Ira could talk, I can hear him saying, "Yeah man, I'm still
pretty high. Good music! Good drugs! Let's go back for more. What d'ya mean Woodstock's
over?"
Noah had gained notoriety over the years, not just as the eccentric
proprietor of the Ark, but for his involvement in politics, as well. One year, he ran for
mayor and lost by only forty votes...but then again, only forty-one people voted!
Word has it, that he's taken as many as seven or eight women as his
bride while continuing to conduct numerous affairs on the side. Some believe it is old age
that has slowed his pace with regard to philandering but I oppose that theory. I rather
believe it is Erika that's responsible for putting a gimp in his stride.
Erika has been his companion for the last five years. She's a
small-boned woman but she carries the stamina and strength of a good hearty Kraut from the
finest German stock. (No offense meant. My Mom used to make reference to herself with use
of the term Kraut. She used it jokingly but with pride.) Erika's outward demeanor is that
similar to Noah's. She demonstrates a character of strong will and determination. It was
these traits that first drew the attention and respect of Noah. In the same light, he
recognized a warm and tender soul, much like his own, concealed deep beneath her surface.
A bond had formed and the two became best friends.
Page 266
After Erika arrived on the scene, many changes took place, not only
with Noah, but with the Ark, as well. Erika added more plants and filled empty walls with
the Key West style paintings. She created a new and refreshing ambiance amidst the ramose
of rubble and in no time, the business took off on a marked upward swing. This was no
longer a place just for lost locals. Tourists from all different areas of life began
braving the inside walls of Noah's Ark and for many it became a customary part of their
annual vacation itinerary.
Noah was a dedicated Blues fan and he despised the fact that great
artists of Afro-American decent were treated so poorly in years past, by the music
industry. So, Noah began promoting the Delta Blues and paying top price to any Black
performer who wanted his music to be heard. Though it appeared that Noah might be
demonstrating prejudice by booking only Blacks to perform, it was because he loved Blues
and felt that only Blacks possessed talent enough to truly sing and play the Blues in its
intended fashion. Noah always stood by his convictions, even if it meant crossing lines
set by law.
Blues speaks in a Universal language to which most everyone can relate.
The music taps into the spirit and even those insecure with dance movements will often
cast aside their inhibitions and allow their bodies a natural rhythmic display. Ah! Such
good energy here at Noah's.
Page 267
As Luanne and I made it through the door, Erika greeted us with a
warm embrace in spite of our water-soaked clothing. We sank into a cozy seat in one of the
couches and drew warmth from the orange-red embers glowing in the fireplace. We sipped our
red wine slowly, trying to relax after the drenching and driving ordeal.
We discussed the Ark; it's proprietor and his companion. We agreed that
this place would set a precedence for Designs found in the Millennium issues of Wild and
Weird Homes, though one might nor find it endorsed by Good Housekeeping let alone worthy
of their Seal of Approval.
We pondered whether the patrons would picket in support of keeping this
place a Shrine should anything ever happen to Noah. Surely, they would, though we figured,
most likely the Ark would just self-destruct upon his demise.
Lu and I continued our wine consumption while darting from one subject
of conversation to another. The deepening of our cheek color was accompanied by our
deepening conversation. We started reminiscing and telling stories, as we'd done so many
times in the past, about our childhood's and the towns we grew up in. We talked about our
teenage years, Proms, favorite oldies, academic studies, teenage idols and son on.
Hesitantly, I started to reflect a little more in depth than I had in prior conversation.,
of my struggle with the abuse shit and the impact of it.
Page 268
Lunne remained silent, for what seemed to be a very long time. I
asked her if everything was all right and if I'd said something that offended her or was
she, perhaps, not feeling well? She looked up and explained that she needed to confide
something in me...something she'd never told anyone.
"Leslie, I've never admitted this to you or anyone before.
Actually, I try hardest to keep it hidden from myself. But, because of the courage you've
recently demonstrated, I've realized that I can also be brave."
"I, too, was sexually abused as a child," she said.
"Oh my god, Luanne! I never had a clue. Why haven't you ever said
anything? All this time, you've been so supportive of me and here, you're carrying the
same ugly burden."
"I know, Les...but, I knew that in helping you, I was drawing
closer to someday helping myself. Well, someday is finally here, I guess. I think I am
ready to start talking which is the first step on the road to recovery. Right?"
"Right, Luanne. It's the first and probably most important
step."
"Well, Les, I was only at the hands of one abuser but nonetheless,
the damage done has been overwhelming. He lived next door to us and was a close friend of
the family. He'd lure me into his house or in the barn in his backyard on the pretense of
having to something to show me or having
These are the first eight of eleven pages of the Chapter. We will add an additional
page each month. Within a year you will know the whole chapter, LOL. BUT, hopefully you
won't be able to wait that long and will get the book. We have several copies available
here or you can go to Tennison-Moons website: http://www.womanspath.net and place your order.
Make sure to check out the following
pages before you go.
Thanks and have a great month!

Photo Album

Happenings Page
Mahuffer's
Home Page

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Perfect Present.


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