Six Crime Stories

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  "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 other 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 a
nother 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.

  *****

  Through tear-filled eyes, I watched as the glittering black serpent flowed toward Eden, his long, thin body curling like liquid over the red earth.

  He hesitated at the boundary, head weaving back and forth, forked tongue flittering. I held my breath, hoping he wasn't reconsidering his course of action. I didn't think my performance would hold up to much scrutiny...and he was, after all, the original trickster.

  When the serpent backed away a few inches from the boundary, I decided that he was indeed on to me...but all was not lost. If I acted quickly enough, I could still do the job myself with a rock or a branch or even my feet. Breaking my embrace with Adam, I looked around frantically for a weapon.

  And stopped.

  I heard the sound of something sliding through the brush. When I looked at the boundary line, the serpent was gone.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened. I stared after him, wondering if perhaps he had gotten lucky and was slipping back in without penalty after all. It would have been just my luck, I thought, for the serpent to find welcome in paradise after instigating the murder of my son.

  I stepped closer to the boundary, squinting into the shimmering vegetation for a sign of my enemy.

  Then, suddenly, something crashed down through the trees on Eden's fringe, dropping so fast and with such force that I gasped and fell backward. As I toppled, I glimpsed a blur of silver and flame flashing downward, leaving a trail of billowing black smoke.

  The object struck the ground with a deafening crack. When it hit, the serpent's body flew out of Eden, twisting in midair...and flopped in the dirt at my feet.

  It was headless.

  Inside the Garden, I caught a glimpse of the fallen object at rest: a giant silver sword with a broad, curved blade, at least as long as Adam and I laid end to end. Red and yellow flames rippled and crackled along its entire length, dancing over the spine and flat of the blade, encircling the glittering, golden hilt, shooting off sparks that set fire to the flowers and brush among which it had landed.

  I gazed upon the instrument of death for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of it, realizing it would have done the same to Adam and me as it had to the serpent if we had crossed the boundary. Then, the fiery sword heaved itself from the earth and shot back up through the trees, a blur of silver, flame, and smoke.

  It leaped into the heavens and was gone.

  *****

  "Was that what I think it was?" said Adam, shading his eyes as he gazed up at the lingering smoky trail left behind by the sword.

  "Uh-huh," I said, staring down at the headless body of the serpent.

  Adam watched the sky a moment more, then walked over to join me. "That isn't the wayward child, is it?" he said, nudging the dead serpent with his big toe.

  "Apparently," I said with a shrug.

  "I guess his invitation got cancelled," said Adam.

  "Guess so," I said. "You still want to try to get back into Eden?"

  "Maybe some other time," Adam said with a little smile.

  "You know who this is, don't you?" I said, kicking the serpent's corpse.

  Adam cleared his throat and nodded.

  "You know he's the one who talked to you last night, right?" I said.

  Adam hesitated, sliding his eyes from me to the serpent and back again. "Yeah," he said finally, nodding as if he'd been perfectly well aware of the complexities of the situation from the start. "Of course I do."

  "And he's the one who encouraged Cain to kill Abel."

  "Right," said Adam. "It figures."

  I kicked the serpent's body again. "And you realize God wasn't really talking to me just now," I said. "God never told me he loved the serpent more than you. It was all a trick."

  "Oh, sure," said Adam, grinning. "I didn't think that part rang true."

  I smiled, because of course he hadn't figured out any of it on his own and it was just like him to act like he'd been in the know all along.

  It was just one of the many things I loved about him.

  "I think we should go find Cain," I said, "and take him home."

  "Sounds good to me," said Adam. "The sooner, the better."

  I'd never thought I'd hear him sound eager to leave Eden, but there it was. Maybe, after witnessing the flaming sword in action and finding out that his invitation to the Garden had been a trick of the serpent's, Adam was finally getting over his Eden fever.

  Or, maybe, I was just as addicted to hope as he was...the hope that he would forget about paradise and make the most of the life he had. Maybe, we had more in common than I'd ever realized. And why not?

  After all, we really were made for each other.

  *****

  As it turned out, Cain decided to stay in Nod, because it was the place he loved best in the world...and returning home with us would have brought back too many bad memories. I can't say I blamed him.

  He carried enough guilt with him as it was. He managed to do all right for himself in Nod, running a farm and eventually marrying a younger sister (like I said, things were different in those days)...but he never got over what he'd done to his brother. He never forgave himself, which I guess was a good thing, because he never committed another murder, either.

  Unfortunately, that isn't to say that murder ever went out of style.

  I wish I could say it was the last murder I was ever involved with...but you know how people are. I can't even say it was the last involving a family member, because after all, everyone in the world is a family member of mine.

  Murder, as you know, has become commonplace in our world. Sometimes, I feel guilty about that, as if Adam and I are responsible for the violence of men and women because we were bad parents to mankind. I know we tried our best, but things haven't turned out all that well, have they?

  Sometimes, when I'm feeling really down--especially when I've just seen or heard of the latest atrocity committed by one of my descendants--I think the world might have been better off if Adam and I had crossed the boundary and let the fiery sword decapitate us that day. Or, at least, if
we hadn't had so many children.

  The kids came fast in the years after Abel's death, that's for sure. After drifting apart for so long, Adam and I finally came back together, in more ways than one.

  He finally got over his obsession with Eden...more or less...and I finally stopped blaming him for blaming me for getting us thrown out of paradise. We came to love each other more than ever...more than in the Garden even, if you ask me. Maybe because we'd been through something terrible together.

  So I guess maybe one good thing came out of Abel's murder after all.

  Make that two good things.

  Let's just say that snakeskin makes a great pair of shoes.

  *****

  Special Preview: Backtracker

  A Thriller by Jason Koenig

  Chapter 1

  For a split-second, he tasted cool air and opened his eyes to look around. Then, he hit the water with a sudden, violent force, and could no longer breathe.

  As he sank, the water rushed into him, flooding his lungs, freezing him from the inside as well as the outside. Stunned and numb, he dropped further into the icy reaches, propelled by the momentum of his fall. Down, down he plunged, a senseless, dead weight, stars flashing behind the lids of his eyes, blooming and winking like holiday fireworks.

  Then, instinctively, desperately, he flung away the shock, heaved it off like a blanket, and he realized what was happening.

  He was drowning! For God's sake, he was drowning!

  With renewed awareness, he fought the water, flailed and kicked and twisted wildly. Still sinking, he writhed and pedaled, battered at the frigid envelope, struggling to end his descent. He couldn't let it stop him; there was so much to do.