Long, long ago, the God of Palindromes looked down upon the land and was displeased. He decided he would erase the current crop of humanity from his Earth with a mighty flood. Whoosh.
He did not want to start a new crop of humanity, though. No, for he had pulled a muscle the last time. And it didn’t stop hurting for a long, long time. So he decided he would save one person. And that person would continue the human race. And then, when he realized that wouldn’t work, he decided to save two people, preferably of different genders.
He couldn’t decide who to save. No one was any better than anyone else. So he chose to do it by lottery. He would save whoever had a singular name. He looked about and saw several Nabobs, a few Rachels, a plethora of Amulechs, a pair of Johns and a wide assortment of Jaheezabits, which he thought strange. But suddenly, he saw a man with a singular name, and in his glee, be that the word for it, the God of Palindromes called out—
“Ha, one Noah.”
“Yes, Lord?” Noah responded, hearing the voice come out of the firmament.
“Going to destroy the world again, eh? Well, thanks for the tip. What leads you to believe that I could build a craft that would lift me above the water, however? We’re in the desert. Where would I get the wood? Then there’s the problem of finding pitch to seal the joints. What do you suggest, damp sand?”
“Not much of an answer really. OK, I’ll do it. I’ll figure it out somehow. Of course, it would have to be more than a raft. The kids will want their own rooms. It would have to be a good sized boat, I’m guessing. Then it’s got to have a name. What do you suggest I call it?
“Ark O’ Noah! Ha! On! Okra!”
“What’s that last part supposed to mean? The thing about okra.”
“Well, it was weak. And I don’t know about Ark O’ Noah. Strikes me as a bit arkaic. Ha. Get it? Arkaic? Archaic? Building an ark? Naming it in an archaic way? It’s a pun. Get it?
“You bet. A gate buoy.”
“No, a pun. Never mind. Either way, I don’t like naming it after myself. Seems boastful. Pride and all that. One of your sins, you know. Plus the neighbors will know who the idiot is.”
“Sail an alias.”
“Hm. How about Mark’s Ark? Toby’s Ark. Ark of the Covenant—no, it would have to be small and we’ll probably get lost. Well, I’ll sleep on it. So, fine, I build this big boat. But what direction am I supposed to head in? Where do we stop? What do we do in the boat all the time we’re waiting to get there?”
“West. Ararat. Sew.”
“OK. I’ll tell the wife we’re leaving. I’ll gather the children. I’ll make sure we have a sturdy ark and that it has sufficient supplies—no okra though. Then we’ll all get on board and await your flood. Do I need to do anything else before that?”
“Slam in animals.”