And in so doing, moved himself out of the shadows and within my reach. Which was exactly where I wanted him to be, I realized.
Because now, more than ever, we had a score to settle.
*****
The closer we got to Eden, the sweeter the air smelled. The riot of floral fragrances wafting out of the place made every other garden I’d been to seem as aromatic as a pile of rocks.
When I drew a breath, I grew dizzy from the thick, unearthly perfume. It unlocked memories that hadn’t seen the light of day since I’d left paradise, memories of unicorn rides and singing fish and heatless flame and sun showers in which every raindrop had a different color and flavor and musical note.
As we approached our destination, the sky grew brighter, too. It had been a dreary day downriver, but as we gained on Eden, gray clouds filed away, exposing bright blue perfection and a sun of steady white radiance. Watching our shadows on the ground as Adam hauled me upriver, I noticed that their angle didn’t change, as if the sun wasn’t moving. Though I was certain that enough time had passed for morning to shift to afternoon and afternoon to evening, the day actually became brighter, as if time was working differently as we neared our old home.
Other things worked differently, too. I had a period of disorientation--and more than a little nausea--as I adjusted to the changes in the world...or maybe they were changes in my mind or some of both. I remembered that sounds had taste, and smells had rhythm, and everything, living or dead, glowed with energy of varying hue and texture and pitch. My sixth, seventh, and eighth senses reawakened, which spooked me because I’d forgotten they existed. I saw colors and creatures and impossible physical phenomena that shocked me, even seen upside-down as I hung over my husband’s shoulder, and brought back flashes of another world more intense than I had ever remembered in exile, in waking or dreaming moments or the wildest flights of fancy in-between.
And all this was just the drainage of Eden, the dimmest echo of a power too great to be contained from seeping into the world. All this flowed around and through us, and we hadn’t even taken a step into the forbidden land.
The one thing that didn’t change, though, was the sound of the enemy sliding through the grass and weeds alongside us. It accompanied us all the way to the borders of glittering Eden...mysterious, expectant, lethal, inevitable.
And doomed, if I had anything to do with it.
*****
When we got to Eden, Adam slid me from his shoulder. As my feet touched the ground, I could see that his eyes were already fixed on the Garden, his mouth gaping in thoughtless awe.
I had to shove my bound hands in his face to get him to untie them, and even then, he hardly watched what he was doing. As I rubbed my aching wrists, I twisted around and shoved the back of my head in front of him; he undid the strap holding the gag in place, but I was left on my own to untie my ankles. Still gazing raptly at his beloved Eden, Adam simply dropped the straps and gag on the ground and slipped away from me before I could demand he do the rest.
I undid the cords hastily, afraid that my husband would be so caught up in Eden’s spell that he would forget the death sentence promised to both of us if we ever returned inside.
“Adam!” I shouted, flinging the cords aside and whirling around to make sure he was still with me. “Don’t go in there!”
It was then that I saw Eden close-up for the first time in eighteen winters.
*****
There was no fence around Eden to mark its borders. It didn’t need one.
The boundary between Eden and the rest of the world was very clear. On one side, there were green trees and bushes and grasses and dusty red earth...all of it enlivened somewhat by Eden’s runoff, thriving under Eden’s perfect climate...perhaps the choicest real estate in all the world because of its proximity to paradise.
But unmistakably drab compared to what was on the other side. Like a drawing in the sand compared to an oasis.
Where the outside world left off, in a perfect, curving line, trees entwined with leaves of gleaming gold and limbs of silver. Fruits of every size and shape and texture exploded from every branch, spotted and striped and glowing and jumping, some flowing with moving images of nature, like windows on the beauty of creation.
Birds of every description flitted among the branches, singing intricate harmonies unlike those heard from any bird in the world outside. There were parrots and canaries and toucans and macaws, cardinals and bluebirds and doves...every one of them amplified, every one of them with plumage more colorful and elaborate than their cousins beyond the boundary. Hummingbirds of rainbow crystal. Silken purple parakeets with tiny peacock fan-tails.
Below, butterflies and bumblebees threaded among a blanket of flowers...blooms of every shade and combination of orange and blue and red and yellow and violet. Flowers like open hands or fragile cups or pillowy clouds. Flowers that twinkled like fireflies and glowed like the moon. Streaked and swirled and speckled and glossy...lacy and velvety, tall and short. Flowers within flowers, some singing like birds. Some twining stems and stamens in a delicate, deliberate dance.
Among them, a lion cub purred, curled alongside a sleeping fawn. A squirrel leaped up from a bobbing patch of sunflowers and spiraled its way up the trunk of a tree. Tiny monkeys swung between branches, chattering gaily, cries mingling with those of what sounded like a million different creatures in the unseen depths of the Garden.
The Garden of which this was the tiniest sliver, the surface, the outermost fringe.
The Garden of Eden.
*****
I stood there for what must have been a long time, for what could have been forever for all I knew on the outskirts of timeless Eden. I gazed at the wonders before me, breathless, helpless, hands folded over my chest as if to keep my heart from bursting.
Everything shimmered like a dream or a desert mirage: the trees, the flowers, the birds, the creatures, the birdsong, the flowers’ perfume. Sometimes, it wavered and blurred like a reflection on water, or the memory of a dead loved one’s face. Like a half-remembered tune.
More than anything, I wanted to step inside. I hadn’t expected that.
I had forgotten how it was. Maybe time had dulled the memory...or maybe I had forgotten by choice, because it was lost to us. Because of me.
And one other.
It was this--the memory of him, of what had happened between us--that finally enabled me to look away. That broke the spell of Eden and reminded me of the dangerous brink on which we now stood.
*****
Adam was three steps closer to the boundary than I, staring into the perfect vision that had haunted him every day since our exile. As I turned to him, he was raising a hand toward a sparkling golden pear that dangled over the Garden’s edge, just within reach.
Hastily, I grabbed hold of his arm and pulled it back just in time. His fingertips had been inches away from the skin of the fruit.
And certain death.
“Adam,” I said, and then I shook him by the shoulder. “Adam!”
Slowly, he turned his face to me. His eyes were heavy-lidded and unfocused, as if he’d been drunk or asleep.
“Why did you bring me here, Adam?” I said, giving his shoulder a harder shake.
He blinked and shook his head, emerging from the trance. “To go back in,” he said, sounding groggy. “To stay.”
“But we can’t,” I said. “We’ll be killed.”
Adam smiled. “Last night, when I went for my walk, God spoke to me. He said we can go back in. On one condition.”
I looked around, perfectly aware of who must have spoken to my husband in the night...aware also that the enemy’s eyes must be upon us even now. “What condition?” I said.
“Abel’s killers are in there,” said Adam, pointing into the Garden. “If we destroy them, we’ll redeem ourselves and win the right to return to Eden forever.”
*****
Usually, it didn’t bother me that Adam was a little slow. I liked being the b
rains 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 ea
r 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.
The First Detect-Eve Page 4