The First Detect-Eve (5 page)

*****

Usually, it didn’t bother me that Adam was a little slow. I liked being the brains of the outfit, quite frankly; it gave me an advantage to counterbalance his greater physical strength and enabled me to manipulate the outcomes of situations in my favor.

Sometimes, though, his mental limitations could be frustrating. This was one of those times.

From the beginning of Adam’s story, I knew exactly who had instigated this action and what his objective was. Adam, on the other hand, seemed to be completely in the dark.

If he had managed to see through the scheme as easily as I had, we wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. We wouldn’t have come all the way to Eden for this potentially disastrous showdown.

Then again, I wouldn’t have been in a position to taste the sweet revenge that could be mine if only I were cunning enough to trick the trickster.

*****

“What do you mean, Abel’s killers are in there?” I said to Adam. “Cain already admitted he killed his brother.”

“But I knew he couldn’t have,” Adam said intently, as if describing the process by which he’d solved a mystery. “He didn’t have it in him. When he confessed, he didn’t know what he was saying.”

“And you know this because God told you last night,” I said.

Adam nodded vigorously. “It was the New People,” he said. “The New People murdered Abel.”

It was clear to me that Adam’s head had been popped open and filled with pure, steaming crap, but my curiosity was piqued by the specifics his informant had dreamed up. “Who are the New People?” I said.

“God tried again,” said Adam. “We’d failed, so He created new people to replace us. He made them better than us so they wouldn’t let him down. He gave them the ability to come and go as they pleased, to move between Eden and the outside world at will. He thought maybe one of the reasons we’d rebelled was that we’d felt trapped and needed our freedom.”

“Sounds like they had it made,” I said evenly. “So why kill Abel?”

“Jealousy,” said Adam. “God had a soft spot for Abel. He was going to let him come live in Eden, and the New People couldn’t stand the thought of him horning in.”

“Abel wouldn’t have bothered them,” I said, playing along for the benefit of the enemy. Though I could neither see nor hear him, I knew he had to be listening nearby as the drama he’d designed unfolded.

Adam shrugged. “They wanted him out of the way,” he said. “So they killed him and ran back to Eden, thinking they’d be safe from us because we’re not allowed in. Only God cancelled our exile.

“He knows what the New People did. He feels terrible about what happened to Abel and that Cain blames himself for it.

“The New People are a bigger failure than we ever were, and they’re getting more uncontrollable by the day. God has decided to get rid of them, but He’s left the job for us. He said we can take care of His problem for Him and get revenge at the same time, which is supposed to make us feel better.”

“He’s right about that,” I said, though I was thinking of revenge against someone other than the supposed “New People.”

Smiling, Adam gazed into the shimmering Garden spread out before him. He rubbed his hands together as if he were about to devour a banquet. “The cherubim will not swoop down and attack us,” he said. “God promised. Nor will the revolving sword drop through our necks. We are free to enter.

“And once our work is done, Eve,” said Adam, “we are free to stay. We won’t be allowed to eat of the Tree of Life, so we won’t live forever, but we can raise a family here, and they can raise their children here, and on and on.”

Adam was so thrilled, he walked over and kissed me on the lips. “We can go home, Eve,” he said, pulling back to gaze serenely into my eyes. “What we’ve longed for all these years is finally coming true.”

As I looked at him, I was strangely affected by his recitation of false hopes. A tear ran down my cheek, and he brushed it away.

I was sad because I saw how badly he wanted the lies to be true. How he craved them more than anything in the world...more than his own children, though he would deny it...and more than me. More than life itself.

And because I loved him, I wanted him to have his heart’s desire...but I knew that he would not get what he wanted. Not now and not ever. He was doomed to unending hope and disappointment; in time, I feared, it would ruin him. Ruin us.

He kissed me again, and I was overcome with love and pity. As long as he lived, he would never break away from Eden’s orbit.

“Why are you crying?” he said as another tear rolled down my cheek.

“Because I’m so happy,” I lied, putting on a false smile for his benefit.

I cried because I understood him. I saw right through him, and knew that even if we survived this day, he would never change.

It was a sad realization, because I’d always hoped he might come around someday...but it led me to realize something else. Something of immediate value.

I realized that the enemy was the same, in a way, as my husband.

And realizing that, I knew how I could defeat him.

*****

“Take my hand,” said Adam, reaching toward me. “Let’s not wait any longer.”

I scrubbed away my remaining tears, then took his hand in my own. Though I knew his skin was callused from hard labor, his palm felt warm and soft against my own.

As we turned to face the Garden, he released a deep sigh. “I always knew this day would come,” he said. “The happiest day of our lives.”

I looked at him proudly and nodded. “You had faith,” I said. “You never gave up.”

“Because of you,” he said tenderly. “I did it because of you.”

Genuinely touched, I leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” I said, forgetting for an instant that we were on the threshold of a place that could kill us, being watched by an enemy who desired our undoing. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” said Adam, and then he squared his shoulders toward Eden. “Now let’s go home.”

He was eager to reach the boundary and walked fast; I had to hurry to keep up. We took one, two, three, four steps, each bringing us closer to the Garden. I judged it would take no more than ten before we crossed the line.

Five steps. Six.

I let him pull me further to build the suspense. I would wait until the last moment to make my move.

Seven steps.

“Get ready, honey,” said Adam, sounding giddy. “Here we go!”

Off in the grass, I imagined, the enemy was probably barely able to contain himself. This, I was certain, was what he had wanted all along.

Us, dead.

In the Garden, he had tricked us into eating from the forbidden Tree of Knowledge, which had led to our exile...but maybe, he’d been hoping for a more severe punishment. Later, pretending to be God, he had pushed Cain to the point of murdering his brother. Now, he wanted us to reenter Eden, where we would surely be killed.

Eight steps.

He hated us. It was the motivation for everything he’d done...but maybe, there was a reason for the hatred. Something I hadn’t considered until now.

Maybe, while masquerading as God, he had told my gullible husband a version of the truth. He had said that the New People wanted to kill Abel to keep him from horning in on their setup with God. Maybe it was the same for the enemy.

Maybe, his wanting to ruin us had something to do with love and longing like that which drove Adam. In fact, I was counting on it.

Nine steps.

“We’re home!” said Adam, dropping one foot in the outside world and raising the other to step into Eden.

Before his foot could cross the boundary and descend, I tugged him backward. He stumbled and bumped into me, knocking us a few steps from the edge of Eden. “Adam, wait!” I said.

“What?” he said, steadying me by putting an arm around my shoulders. “What is it?”

“Don’t you hear that?” I said, wincing. “Someone’s talking!”

Adam paused and angled an ear upward. Then, he frowned and shook his head. “I don’t hear a thing,” he said. “Who is it?”

I pretended to listen for a moment, then slowly turned to Adam with an expression of grave amazement. “It’s the Voice,” I told him. “Oh, Adam, it’s God.”

*****

Adam stared at me with a look of wide-eyed expectation. “What’s God saying? What does He want?”

Closing my eyes, I again pretended to listen. “He wants me to pass a message to someone else. Another of his children, he says.” Turning, I gazed into the greenery outside Eden. “Someone who’s here with us right now.”

Adam also turned to search our surroundings. “Who?” he said. “I don’t see anyone.”

Slowly, I took a step forward, away from Eden. “A wayward child,” I said. I paused for a moment, as if listening, and took another step. “One who has turned away and no longer hears the Voice of God.”

“What’s the message?” said Adam, walking over to stand alongside me.

Though I heard no movement from the grass and saw no sign of the enemy, I felt his eyes upon me. “You are forgiven,” I said. “Even for what you have tried to do here today. You are forgiven.”

“I don’t understand,” said Adam, shaking his head.

“That’s because the message isn’t intended for us,” I said, and then I pretended to listen again. “God says the wayward child is forgiven. He is welcomed back into the fold.”

Frowning, Adam turned to me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Long ago, you were banished from Eden,” I said, speaking for the enemy’s benefit. “Now, the way is open to you once more.”

“To us?” said Adam.

“To him,” I whispered, waving at the surrounding vegetation to indicate the intended recipient of the message. “Come forth,” I said, raising my voice again. “Return to your home. Return to Eden.”

I fell silent then, watching and listening for movement in the underbrush. It remained as still as if no creature lurked within it...but I had no doubt whatsoever that my enemy was there.

It seemed it would take more to flush him out.

I decided to make my performance a little more interesting. “Father, I have a question,” I said, looking skyward as if I were speaking directly to God instead of just listening. “What about my husband and I? May we return, too?”

For a long moment, I continued to look upward as if listening to God’s reply. When I finally lowered my gaze, I saw Adam staring at me expectantly, impatiently, desperately.

“Well?” he said simply, touching my arm with lightly trembling fingers.

“Not fair,” I said softly, disappointedly. “It’s not fair.”

Adam withdrew his hand from my arm. “Why? What did He say?”

“I’m sorry, Adam,” I said. “We’re not invited.”

Immediately, Adam looked crushed. “But last night, He told me we could return. He promised me.”

Gently, I reached out and caressed his cheek. “He doesn’t love us as much as his other child,” I said. “He doesn’t want us in Eden.”

Adam’s eyes glistened with tears as I pulled him close and wrapped him in my arms. I hated to hurt him with the lies about what God was telling me, but I thought it was necessary to convince the enemy.

And anyway, I knew that at least some of what I had said was true. I knew in my heart that God would never let us back into paradise.

It was a terrible thing to know, especially now that I had been reminded of just how wondrous Eden could be. It was enough to make me cry tears of my own as my husband sobbed against my shoulder.

“God forgives you,” I said, raising my voice for the enemy. “Go to him. Go before he changes his mind.”

Then, as Adam and I held each othe
r and wept, I finally heard it.

The rustle of grass. The whisper of something sliding through it, pressing soft blades beneath a long, supple body.

Then rasping over the ground. Slithering closer.

Hissing.

And then, I felt it. Rippling right over the tops of my feet.

I clutched my husband tighter and clamped my eyes shut, willing myself not to move.

*****

Slowly, for what seemed like an eternity, my enemy pulled himself over the bare skin of my feet. Instinct screamed at me to leap away from him, to escape before I felt his poisonous fangs sink into my flesh.

I stood my ground, but just barely. My heart hammered as inch by inch, he dragged himself over me. Echoes of my nightmare of being paralyzed beneath this very monster flashed through my mind like blasts of lightning, urging me to kick him off and run away as fast as I could.

And just when I thought I couldn’t bear it another moment, he stopped.

Shivering, I looked down at him.

His head lifted off the ground and curled around to face me. Blazing red eyes met my own.

His forked pink tongue fluttered at me, then withdrew. He opened his mouth, glossy black scales parting to reveal fangs and slimy flesh.

And then he laughed.

It was no more than a wheezing snicker, but I heard it. Adam was sobbing in my ear, but every sound that my enemy made was like a thunderclap to me.

“Loves me more,” he wheezed in his tiny, high-pitched voice, eyes bright with malicious glee. “No hard feelings.”

I gave him a look of extreme agony and fear. It wasn’t something I had to play at, what with his body stretched over my feet and his fiery eyes locked to my own...though my expression did not reveal everything I was feeling.

For instance, the victorious thrill I experienced at being right about the enemy’s true motivations. Outwardly an opponent of God’s will, he inwardly craved God’s affection; everything he did was a cry for attention or an effort to eliminate the competition for God’s love...namely, us.

What he failed to recognize, like Adam, was that he could never regain what he had lost. Perhaps, in his heart, he knew it...but he could never accept it. Like Adam, he was addicted to hope, unable to move on, trapped in orbit around an unforgiving Father.

And, like Adam, if promised the slightest chance for reconciliation--presented convincingly--he would leap at it like a fish gulping bait.

Twitching with nervous excitement, the enemy flicked his head toward Eden, then lashed it back around to stare at me. “Thanks for passing along the good news,” he said in that piping, otherworldly voice. “I owe you one.”

Then, with a wild flicker of his tongue, he whipped around and slithered toward Eden. As his tail slid from one foot to the other and was finally gone, I shuddered with overwhelming revulsion and relief.

And anticipation of what was to come.