After the parade, Ori went home with Enlil and his family, who were remarkably welcoming – especially since Ori was a stranger and ostensibly from a higher class, being a scribe. They didn't seem to care. The kids in particular accepted Ori as a kind of older brother and wanted to play. Ori was touched: there was an odd feeling of disconnection to living in a city of 50,000 humans.

The family lived in a well-constructed reed house. Enlil and his cousins had done the work under instructions from Zimah, who had an eye for these things. Ori found out that women in Sumeria didn't usually learn to read and write, in spite of the example of the royal priestess Enheduanna, daughter of a king and the first named author in history. However, Zimah had learned from her brothers (who were glad to share what had given them no pleasure to acquire) and used her drawing skills to sketch out a quite attractive house.

'If we ever make enough money,' she told Ori, 'I'll design us one with sun-baked bricks like the rich people have. But this will do for now.'

Ori admired the work. 'At least your house won't melt in the rainy season.'

Dagan heard this and laughed. 'Yes, but reed houses leak, too. We have to do repairs every year.'

'You like to help,' laughed his father. To Ori he confided, 'The kid loves tools so much I'm thinking of sending him to my second cousin, the builder.'

In the centre courtyard of the house, Ori met the second cousin – and a lot of other relatives. It seemed the whole of Enlil and Zimah's families had gathered for the holiday. Ori was dazzled by the sheer volume of cheerfulness a few dozen humans could generate.

Ori enjoyed the dinner, which involved more vegetable dishes (Sumerians didn't eat much meat, thank goodness), homemade breads, and beer (also homemade, Zimah had serious skills). Ori watched Zimah feeding baby Zu on her lap.

'He will only eat from my plate,' she said with a laugh. 'He's afraid we will feed him something he doesn't like.' Zu chuckled happily as he munched on a fried slice of aubergine.

While they were eating, Ori noticed the children – Dagan, Zanah, Anunit, and even little Gibil – whispering with their cousins. They ran into a room in the house. As the dishes were being cleared away and more beer brought out, the children emerged into the clear space in the centre of the courtyard. It was getting dark now, and Anunit was lit by the braziers in the courtyard as she called for attention. She was wearing a headdress the children had fashioned of pigeon feathers.

'Listen, people!' she said in her loudest and most solemn voice. Everybody listened, although Ori could hear a few adults chuckling in the shadows. 'We're going to tell you a Very. Important. Story. It's all about the gods.'

As Anunit told the tale, the other children came up to act out the story. The first was Dagan. He was wearing a crown made of reeds and dyed yellow with some sort of plant dye. Dagan stood with his arms folded, surveying the crowd.

'Oh, look!' cried an aunt. 'Dagan is Gilgamesh!'

'Quiet, peasants!' admonished Anunit the storyteller. There was more adult giggling.

Anunit began the tale.

Once upon a time, there was a great king called Gilgamesh. This [pointing] is Gilgamesh, so you'd better be respectful. [glowering by Dagan, giggling by relatives] Gilgamesh was one-third god and two-thirds humans, and all ANNOYING. He made his subjects VERY annoyed, so that SOMETIMES they snuck into his room and stole his favourite things and fed them to the goats.
One day, Gilgamesh was bored and tired of annoying his subjects, which is what he did every day. He was a very annoying king.

I can see where that would be tiresome, said Prajapati. But since Prajapati was talking inside Ori's head, nobody else heard and Anunit didn't shush the only actual 'god' in the room. The story continued.

Gilgamesh decided to go into the forest. It was nice and cool there. There were lots of friendly animals. [Several children made up to be deer and rabbits and such gallop across the 'stage', to general applause. Gilgamesh waves his arms dismissively and they go away again.] Gilgamesh was still bored.

'Gilgamesh' said, 'I know! I will go to the far mountains and seek the Tree of Eternal Life!'

Anunit turned to her brother. 'Hey! Who's telling this, me or you?' [General laughter.]

Gilgamesh journeyed for 40 days and 40 nights. ['Gilgamesh' takes huge strides around the open space.] He fought monsters. [The 'animals' return but this time wearing monster masks.] Of course, being the great King Gilgamesh, he was always vict-, victor-, er, he always won!

Zimah stuffed the corner of her apron in her mouth to avoid a guffaw.

In the mountains, Gilgamesh found a beautiful palace. [Two children hold up decorated reed poles, the 'pillars' of the palace.] The king and queen made Gilgamesh welcome. [A boy cousin and Zana come out wearing reed crowns and mime welcoming Gilgamesh. They all sit down to a pretend banquet using some of Zimah's dinner plates containing cookies. Gigil, who is serving, sneaks a cookie and gets a dirty look from Anunit.].

'Queen': 'I hope you're having a nice trip, King Gilgamesh.'

'King': 'Will you be staying long?'

'Gilgamesh': 'Oh, yes, it's nice and no, not long. Hey, I happened to notice your boat when I passed the river. It's a nice boat. Have you had it long?'

'King': Oh, there's a whole story about that, it's very interesting…'

Anunit: 'I'M TELLING IT!'

Once upon ANOTHER time [said Anunit loudly] The gods got tired of humans. They decided to make it rain really HARD. For, er, 40 days and 40 nights. AND they decided to make the Euphrates move over. It flooded all the houses. The reed houses fell apart and the brick houses MELTED. And the people DROWNDED. It was AWFUL.

There was a dramatic pause so that everyone could appreciate just how awful it all was. When she was satisfied that enough awfulness had been comprehended, Anunit continued.

But the king and queen – the ones Gilgamesh was talking to –   [waving by participants] were warned ahead of time by a friendly god. The friendly god didn't agree with the flood idea. So he told the king and queen to build a boat and put their family and animals on it. That's what they did. And when it rained for 40 days and 40 nights and everything washed away, the boat floated. They floated until the water went away. Then they built a new palace in the mountains. The End.

Anunit bowed to much applause. Then she grabbed a cookie from Dagan's plate before she sat down with her parents.

Dagan stood up. 'But WAIT!' he boomed in his Gilgamesh voice. 'That's not all of the story! I'M going to tell this part.' The audience murmured agreement: obviously they knew that there was more to the story.

The king and queen thought that Gilgamesh was a good guest. After all, he was very polite and… [dirty look at sister]… didn't interrupt people when they were telling stories. So they decided to share their secret with him. Their very BIG secret.

'We are immortal,' said the 'king' in a stage whisper.

'That means we don't die,' said the 'queen' in a stage whisper.

The audience pretended to gasp in surprise. (Some giggled.)

'Now,' said the 'king', 'because you are such a good guest, we will tell you how to be immortal, too. Here is a map to show you how to get to the Tree of Eternal Life. You have to take our boat and dive into the deepest part of the ocean to find the Tree. Just take a branch from it and eat the leaves and you will be immortal. But first, you have to defeat the giant octopus. Good luck, and please bring our boat back in good condition.' He took a clay tablet out of the folds of his waistband. It probably contained his homework, thought Ori, who knew about writing teachers by now. But the kids pretended it was a map. 'Gilgamesh' promised to take good care of the map and the boat, and they all shook hands on it.

Ori was finding this fascinating: more interesting, even, than the Dance of the Seven Wonders back at The Penthouse.

'Gilgamesh' took up the tale again.

King Gilgamesh journeyed for a long time in the boat. When he got to the deepest part of the ocean, he dove in and swam to the bottom where the Tree of Eternal Life was growing in a magic cave. But before he could go in, the giant octopus showed up!

The Giant Octopus did indeed show up. Ori suspected there were several children inside it, holding up tentacles under the painted reed mat.

They are very creative with these reeds, said Prajapati. Glad I thought of them.

The fight against the Giant Octopus was epic. Gilgamesh had a (reed) sword. The Octopus had way too many arms. More than eight, even. Every time Gilgamesh hit one, the child representing that tentacle 'died' spectacularly, to massive cheering. Finally, it was over. Gilgamesh snatched a branch with what looked like a pomegranate on it from a wall sconce and exited stage left.

Zana took up the narrative while Dagan caught his breath by pretending to sleep.

Dagan…er, Gilgamesh was very tired after the big octopus fight. After he returned the king and queen's boat (in good condition), he went back to his own home. He decided to take a nap before eating the fruit of the Tree of Eternal Life. That way, he wouldn't be tired when he became an immortal. His bed was very comfortable. He was so tired he didn't even talk to himself before he fell fast asleep.[snoring noises from the 'bed'.] But while Gilgamesh slept, an evil enemy crept into the room…

Oh no oh no oh no thought Ori. Because what appeared next was…

A child. Dressed like a snake. Slithering into the room to grab the branch of the Tree of Eternal Life. And slither away with it, giggling.

Ori was mortified. You're in the collective unconscious now, commented Prajapati.

But I don't want to be, thought Ori.

Zana continued the narrative, which had turned needlessly theological.

When Gilgamesh woke up [Gilgamesh wakes up and stretches ostentatiously] and found the branch missing [he mimes doing this] he wasn't worried. After all, he could go back and get another one anytime. But Gilgamesh got busy and forgot. That's why he isn't here today. But we are. So we hope you enjoyed our story.

There was more laughter, wild applause, and at least six curtain calls before the kids were packed off to bed. After that, the adults poured more beer and brought out the musical instruments. Ori joined in the dancing, which was much more enjoyable than the choreography in The Penthouse.

Mentally, Ori could hear Prajapati humming along as they danced.

Dmitri Gheorgheni