by Brian Godawa
Enoch, Methuselah and Edna were not merely weary but wary. Betenos was transfixed in wonder.
Lamech started to snore. He had fallen asleep from fatigue.
Lili and Lilu brought ladles of the water to them. Enoch surmised that this strange angelic woman could not be offering them poisoned water since she indulged from the fountain herself. He nodded to the others and they drank deeply.
But Enoch also noticed something about Lilu that made him curious. Up close, it became apparent to him that Lilu was in fact a slender feminine young boy who had been dressed and groomed as a girl. But the promise of water distracted him.
The liquid felt like balm in their parched throats. It brought almost instant healing to their chapped lips and revived them from within. Their blurry sight became unclouded. Their foggy heads dissipated and they could think more clearly. They must have been dangerously dehydrated and had not realized it.
Lilith said to them, “It is the living waters.”
Edna felt a pain in her stomach. Nausea swept over her. She looked at the others. They seemed all right. It was not the water.
Lilith noticed Edna’s grimace with a look of concern, a display of preternatural sensitivity to others’ feelings. To Edna, she seemed the very embodiment of compassion. She was elegant and fair, like a hidden queen of this desert oasis paradise.
Methuselah, who sometimes had a wandering eye for beautiful women, was no doubt allured by her comeliness. He deeply loved his wife and poured all his passionate lust out upon her along with his tender love. She knew he worked hard at keeping his eyes focused on his beloved Edna. But she also knew her husband’s tastes. She suspected that he was trying very hard at that moment to not display an attraction to this exotic woman and her daughters.
She was right. Methuselah found Lilith sublimely beauteous. He tried very hard to listen without looking. He wondered if Havah had looked like this when she was first created in the Garden so long ago, the essence of woman.
Enoch felt surprised at himself. He had never been one to pursue the lusts of the flesh, and had trained his senses to be austere. But he truly had never seen such transcendent and feminine loveliness in all his wanderings. It stirred him in a way he had not been stirred for years. He wondered if he had become too mental and disembodied in his spirit. Perhaps Methuselah’s accusation of him was correct: he was missing out on the appreciation and worship of Elohim in his sensual creation. The beauty was awakening him to his own humanity.
Lamech had stopped snoring. In his dreams, he began to experience erotic thoughts he had not had before. His desire for Betenos was rising within his soul. He wanted to marry her. But she did not worship Elohim, and that was a problem. He had no desire to unite his body, a temple of Elohim, to a temple of other gods. She had listened and asked questions for a while. But she was unwilling to reject the gods she had known all her life and worship his god. But even if she did, she still did not want to marry and raise a family.
Yet, in the dream, Betenos came to Lamech as he slept. She whispered in his ears, “I will follow your god, but you must first know me.”
By knowledge she meant carnal knowledge. She writhed before him with the throbbing enticement of a seductress, bringing all his senses alive with desire. Her body began to sway and undulate with an inhuman flexibility, almost like that of a snake.
She brushed against his body and he was about to grab her and have his way, when her tongue flicked out and licked his chest. It was a split tongue.
It shocked him awake. His heart raced. He tried not to display his fear as he looked at Betenos sitting attentively listening to Lilith, completely unaware of Lamech behind her.
Edna thought she felt the sand move beneath them. It was a dizzy spell. She shook it off. She was feeling better.
Enoch said to Lilith, “Tell us about this Tree of Life you call the Great Goddess Earth Mother.” Enoch refused to be a pushover. Just because they had been rescued by these maidens, that did not mean he trusted that they had altruistic motives. The others knew he was testing Lilith. He did not mention that they had sojourned with the very first inhabitants of the Garden, the only humans to see the Tree of Life. It was not an insignificant omission.
Her daughters sat dutifully beside Lilith as she told her amazing story.
Chapter 26
Hundreds of cubits above the campsite, Ohyah continued to scale the mighty tree. Deep grooves and knots in the wood made for easy climbing. He stopped again to rest. For the first time, he looked more closely at the bark he had been grabbing for handholds and footholds.
What he saw almost made him lose his grip.
The bark seemed to consist of countless multitudes of human bodies fused indistinguishably into the wood in agonizing and convoluted tangles. It was as if the tree was made of these bodies melded into one large edifice that rose into the sky. Was this a tree of corpses or damned souls?
A tremendous caw overhead drew his attention back to his goal. The call of the Anzu. He planned to catch the great thunderbird. He could not see it yet, but knew he was close. It probably nestled amidst one of the branches in the heights. He continued to climb.
• • • • •
“You are familiar with our forefather Adam and the Garden of Eden?” Lilith asked her attentive group of resting travelers. They nodded their heads yes.
“And you have heard that he had a wife, Havah?” she added. They nodded again.
She let loose with her revelation, “What you no doubt have not heard is that I was Adam’s first wife.”
The travelers did not hold back their surprise.
“It is true. I do not expect you to believe me. For I know that Adam and his second wife have conspired to construct a myth that covers up the truth. You see, Elohim created me to be Adam’s equal in the Garden. But if you knew Adam, you would know that he is a controlling patriarchal male.”
Enoch and the others could understand that sentiment. They had come to know Adam. He had been a strong leader, at times a bit demanding. And he often had appealed to his status as the firstborn of humanity. When drunk, he would sometimes mumble, “I am primogeniture,” a term that meant the firstborn birthright to inherit an entire estate. Ironically, though, in his later years, his blindness made him depend upon Havah. Methuselah thought it was Havah, not Adam, that had become a bit more controlling than he thought appropriate.
Lilith continued, “Adam became so oppressive that I refused to submit to his authority out of fear for my safety. I had no desire for his position as head of the human race. I simply wanted equality. After all, Elohim had created me out of his side, not his rear end.”
The listeners chuckled. She had the good sense of humor to make light of what was an otherwise intolerable situation. Edna began to think of Methuselah and how much she had given up to follow him, and how he was often insensitive to her interests and absorbed in his own.
Betenos hung on every word, completely oblivious to any memory of her secret amorous interest in Lamech. All she thought of was his insufferable demands that she follow his male god Elohim, who did not display much interest in women as far as she was concerned.
“I gave in to his bizarre and abusive sexual demands,” continued Lilith, “and gave him the two daughters you see before you now.” Lili and Lilu were looking more attractive to Methuselah and Enoch. Enoch had already forgotten his discovery that Lilu was a boy.
It did not occur to any of them that Lilith and her offspring should appear much older than they did. If they had been with Adam before Havah, they would be close to nine hundred years old.
Enchantment lay upon Enoch and his party. The water from the tree had drugged their faculties of observation, reason, and morality.
“Unfortunately,” said Lilith, “Adam and his ‘god’ did not want girls, they wanted boys, the superior gender as they told me. They conspired to use this against me and cast me and my daughters out of the Garden, so Elohim could make a more ‘suitable’ partner for him, someo
ne who would remain barefoot in the Garden and bow to his every wish and whim. In other words, a slave.”
Edna now saw Methuselah as the exact replication of his forefather Adam, a patriarchal pig. Thoughts raced through her mind like gnats. He probably thinks of me as his slave, to fulfill his desires at the expense of my own. And all he ever thinks about is sex. What kind of spiritual leader is that? I probably need a man like a fish needs a pelican.
Betenos had already determined that she would never marry Lamech, the wild boar progeny of his father. Maybe what I really need is another woman instead, who understands me. Maybe one of these daughters. That way, I would never have to worry about birthing those clinging little screaming monsters called “children.”
Lilith said, “My daughters and I were exiled by the sky god and his violent male oppressor, but our Earth Mother, the Great Goddess, found us and gave us rebirth here at the true Tree of Life.”
Betenos suddenly broke out weeping. Lilith touched her gently.
“What is wrong, my dear?” she asked.
Betenos mumbled just clearly enough, “That is why I do not want to bring children into this world! My whole tribe was slaughtered by men and their lust for violence and war.”
“It is true,” said Lilith. “Perhaps if the nurturing gender were in charge, we might have peace in the world.”
Edna doubled over with crippling pain in her abdomen. She reached below her cloak and pulled her hand out. It had blood all over it.
Enoch recoiled with revulsion.
Methuselah refused to come to her aid.
Serves her right, he thought, the way she has been ignoring me lately with her hysterical emotional tantrums.
Lilith helped Edna up with gentle compassion. “I think this is something only another woman can help with,” she said. “Come for a walk, my love. I can help you clean yourself from impurities.”
Betenos jumped up. “May I come also, Lilith?”
Lilith kept her back. “Maybe later, dear.”
Betenos sat down again, disappointed.
Edna felt certain that something moved beneath her feet again, like something swimming in the sand.
Lilith called back to her daughters, “Lili and Lilu, will you please keep the others entertained.”
“Yes, mother,” they said in perfect unison. Lamech was sure their mouths did not move when they spoke.
However, their bodies did move. Their motion reminded Lamech of the seductive writhing dance in his dream. Exactly the same dance in his dream.
Enoch and Methuselah, with gaping mouths, watched the two girlish bodies undulate in an ebb and flow of lascivious sensuality.
The sinuous dancing wove the enchantment on the travelers tighter. But the three keepers of the tree had not anticipated one minor mistake in their perfect scheme: Lamech had not drunk the water.
The young man burst out, “Father, we have been enchanted by sorcery! In the holy name of Yahweh Elohim, awake!”
The secret covenant name of Yahweh broke the spell and ripped the men from their stupor. He would never have used it but for the lethal nature he knew they were in.
The girls cried out in unison, “Ningishzida, arise!” And then they fled.
Betenos tried to go after them, but Lamech held her back. She struggled and thrashed in his arms, trying to get loose. “Let me go! Let me go!” she screamed. It was as if she was possessed of an evil spirit. But Lamech would not let her go. He loved her too deeply.
Enoch and Methuselah gathered their weapons. They snatched up some burning logs for light, and ran after the two girls.
They saw the figures fleetingly, disappearing into the tree a short distance ahead of them. It was as if they dissolved into it.
When they reached the spot, they discovered a cleft that led deep into the tree, hiding a narrow passageway. They entered it, with lit torches and drawn dagger and javelin into the darkness.
Chapter 27
Ohyah stopped climbing the gnarled wood and pressed close to the trunk to avoid being seen. The Thunderbird nest was in sight. He could see its tangled branches and leaves molded into the arm of a large branch. For one moment, he reconsidered what he was doing. Not only was he about to risk his life attempting to capture the great Anzu with nothing but a rope he had attached to his belt, but he was planning on doing so after an exhausting climb of untold thousands of cubits.
The bird had made no sound since he first heard it. He did not know if it was still in the nest or had left it. He would have to take a chance and hope he caught it asleep. He thought he would make a quick prayer to Elohim just in case he might be willing to help him out, since he was a member of Enoch’s team of travelers.
• • • • •
Betenos finally broke down in Lamech’s unrelenting embrace. She wept as Lamech told her they had been victims of sorcery. He told her that he forgave her for all the cruel words she had bellowed at him while trying to escape his grasp. They had been vile, spiteful words and she was now deeply remorseful.
She could not believe such evil things could come from her heart. But they had. Lamech knew it was the same evil that lay in his heart and in every heart of every human. The sorcery did not create their wickedness, it merely unleashed it from its moral restraint.
Now he understood why she had fought against the idea of having a family. It created a bond of empathy in him. How could he blame her for not wanting to bring children into such an evil world? It was natural for her to think this way. Only faith could overcome such fear.
Betenos looked up at him and said, “Lamech, who is Ningishzida?”
It was the last thing the sirens had uttered before they disappeared. Ningishzida arise.
“I do not know,” said Lamech. He felt the ground move as if something burrowed beneath them. They got up to follow Enoch and Methuselah. But they were thrown backward by an explosion of sand in their path.
Out of the earth rose the head of a gigantic serpent. The creature must have been a good twenty-five cubits long. Its horned head was as big as Betenos’ body. Its girth was at least three cubits wide. It was black and its eyes glowed with the lapis lazuli blue of the gods. But its fangs gleamed pearly white.
“I think we just met Ningishzida,” said Lamech.
The head rose until it reached a striking position three cubits above the ground. It hissed fiercely. Lamech and Betenos could hear in their minds a whispering voice, You are going to die.
Lamech’s weapon Rahab lay where he had been sleeping. The path to it was blocked by the other end of the snake. The tail burst out of the ground and grabbed Lamech in its coils. It shoved Betenos aside into the sand.
Lamech struggled to free himself. But the strong coils of pure reptilian muscle held him fast. All he had been able to do was grab a handful of sand. He laughed at himself. A handful of sand. What a weapon! At best, he could throw the sand in its eyes and blind it for a moment — before it finished him as the first course of its two-course meal.
The tentacle-like tail raised Lamech into the air, squeezing the life out of him. The giant ophidian head gracefully moved to look its prey in the eyes. Its big split tongue shot out and tasted Lamech’s skin. His horrible dream came back to him like an unheeded omen. He should have foreseen this. He had been too concerned about Betenos to catch the signs all around him. Now, he was going to die and he could not even help the woman he secretly loved.
• • • • •
Enoch and Methuselah followed the labyrinthine passage under the tree deep down into the earth. The serpentine roots appeared to move under the heat of the torches. The men were so intent on their quest, they barely noticed that the roots all around them consisted of the tortured tangle of human corpses transmuted into the wooden essence of the tree.
Edna’s husband loved her so madly that he adored her through every one of his senses; visual, audible, tactile, taste, and olfactory. The perfume of spices she used to please him made him wild with desire. He stopped at various point
s in the pursuit and sniffed the air or a root where her clothes had brushed by and he knew exactly which way these “night hags” had taken her.
Soon they came upon a large opening in the ground, a subterranean chamber cut out of the rock. They remained quiet, hoping to maintain the element of surprise.
All four women were there.
But Edna lay upon a stone altar.
Lilith stood over her, while Lili and Lilu held Edna down. Her cloak was pulled back to reveal a plump belly. Three hyenas sat obediently on either side of the altar.
The hideous sight of the walls of the chamber shook Enoch and Methuselah to their cores. Skeletons, thousands of skeletons, not adult bones, but infant ones, all covered the walls. They both realized this was not the madness of grave robbers, but rather the evil of demonic murderers.
Then Methuselah realized what he had been too ignorant to see before.
Edna was pregnant.
• • • • •
Lamech gasped for breath. The scaly coils of the huge serpent crushed his lungs. He should have been awake enough earlier to be prepared. He started to black out. The serpent bared its fangs, ready for the kill.
Lamech managed to wheeze out one last word, “Ra — hab.”
He and Betenos heard a whisper in their minds tell them, I am not Rahab. I am Ningishzida, Lord of the Tree. But I welcome the comparison.
Lamech was not looking at the serpent, but at his beloved Betenos on the ground. He made his final gesture before collapsing, throwing the sand into the face of his enemy. Its protective lids closed for just a moment.
That was all that Betenos needed. The snake had ignored the weak female prey to focus on its stronger male opponent. It did not realize that Rahab was not a reference to the sea serpent of chaos, but rather to the name of Lamech’s weapon.
Betenos snatched the weapon and unrolled it behind her. She had watched Lamech enough times. He had even taught her how to use it in a pinch.