All Living : A Seedvision Saga (9781621473923) (10 page)

The next morning Kole awoke happy and full of energy. He started to open his pack to grab a bit of food but stopped himself. “No food today,” he said aloud. He rose and stretched, feeling more refreshed than he had in a long time, perhaps ever. He walked down to the river and kneeling, scooped up a large handful of water, but then stopped himself again. He poured the water out and carefully rubbed his forehead and neck with his wet hand, being careful not to get any on his lips. He stood and was surprised to find that he was surrounded by animals, curious to inspect him. He rubbed each of them in turn, pleased with this reception. He marveled at the many furred and feathered faces around him; amazed that his own father had named each one. “You, my friend, are called moose,” he said to one largely inquisitive creature, then knelt to stroke the fur of another. “And you, I believe, are a skunk.”

The procession of beasts and birds lasted until midday. He decided then to wash in the river and, removing all his clothing, stepped in to the soothing waters. He was careful not to get his head too near its surface. As he watched the sunlight filter down through the leaves and sparkle on the ripples of current, he admired the many fish that swam around his legs. Reaching down he cupped his hands underneath a large trout. It did not try to swim away. Lifting it out of the water he held it up to his face, admiring its texture and shimmering scales. “You are a fine specimen,” he said before releasing it once more to the flowing fluid of the river.

Kole climbed out of the water and looked at his clothing. The skin that his mother had once made for him was stained and torn, stretched thin at its stitching. He considered dressing briefly then changed his mind. The idea of clothing suddenly seemed odd and he left them lying on the ground. He decided instead to run. The feel of the grass on his bare feet invigorated him, and the air around him dried the water from his lean muscles. He stretched his legs to lengthen each stride. The animals around him, only momentarily startled by his strange behavior, kept pace, and he led them swiftly through the garden. Not knowing where he was within the garden, he was surprised to suddenly burst forth into an open clearing filled with bright sunlight. He slowed to a stop and looked around, catching his breath in wonder.

In the center of the clearing stood two enormous trees, both equal in height and girth. They stood taller than all the other trees and spread their limbs to cover an expansive swath. The meadow was far larger than it appeared, and the trees spaced so that not a branch from one touched a branch of the other. A thought flashed through Kole’s mind,
the trees; the two trees.

He was about to walk over to them when he realized he was no longer surrounded by animals. He turned and saw that the edges of the meadow, just within the tree line, was filled with animals, all watching him but none daring one step into the clearing. It made Kole uneasy to see them that way.
They are not water, and this is not a riverbank,
Kole thought.
Why do they not approach? I feel no warning issuing from these leaves of grass. I feel no caution within the voice of the wind. I sense no natural resistance to my presence from this pasture. The land is large and the grass is green, and the Lord makes no evil thing.

Kole turned to look at the two trees again. He could not tell one from the other at this distance. He walked toward them for a long time. The trees were even bigger than he had imagined. As he stepped into the shadow of their company, he felt the wind grow cool against his skin. Their trunks were thick, and he could not wrap his arms around them. Ten men, in fact, could not join hands around one of them. The limbs were much too high to reach, nearly halfway up before branching out. He could not climb up nor reach the branches, but looking up he spotted the fruit.

Both had flowering blossoms and young buds among their leaves, both also had a few fully mature fruits dangling from thin stems. They were different than any he had yet seen. One tree had more of an oval fruit spangling its features while the other had fruit that was round and full. Yet that, to Kole’s eyes, was the only slight difference in appearance. Both types were milky mother-of-pearl, iridescent in their luster, capturing the light and shadow both upon the contours of their shape and reflecting it back outward in a myriad of colors. It was beautiful, intoxicating, and captured Kole as easily as a fire captures a spark.

“No wonder,” Kole whispered to himself with sudden empathy for his parents. A sweet, tangy breath of air made the limbs of the trees dance and sway seductively, and Kole stood firmly rooted to the ground, staring up into the shadows until the sun went down.

In the morning, Kole awoke beneath the shared shadow of the two trees. His mouth was dry, and his throat ached from lack of water. His stomach growled for a morsel of food, and he felt weak in all his limbs and weak in his resistance. The first thing that he saw upon opening his eyes was a large, flat stone a few cubits away. Upon the stone, resting perfectly in the middle, was a pearly piece of fruit from the tree above him. As he crawled toward it, it did not occur to him that this fruit could not have itself fallen from the tree during the night without splitting, or at least in some way bruising. On his hands and knees he approached the rock and watched as the morning light flickered off the translucent skin of its orb. He was so hungry. Clear, cold morning condensation glistened on its surface and slowly, antagonizingly, rolled in rivulets down its curved silhouette. He was so thirsty. His hand seemed to reach out of its own accord, and with trembling fingers, he wrapped the tender body of the fruit in his hand and picked it up off the slab. He sat up with it and looked down into the depths of its skin, to its core, where lights with life of their own seemed to burn with eagerness.

This was a fruit that wanted to be eaten. This was a fruit that had as much desire in it to give as any man has ever had to receive.
This fruit, this fruit needed a purpose to exist, a reason for being,
Kole suddenly understood,
and man is that purpose. The whole of creation premeditated to center and circle around singular moments, like ripples on the surface of a still pond after a pebble has been tossed, ready to reveal patterns and meaning, but only if one were still enough to discern the moment and mindful enough to appreciate it. And those ripples…oh, what ripples they would be. Spreading out in perfect symmetry to brush against each shore, then lifting from the surface of the waters to disperse a continual harmony of involvement through the air to every living being.

Kole cradled the object of his whole attention in both hands and brought it up closer to his face.
Eating this fruit will join me to my mother and father or separate me from them
, he realized.
Eating this fruit will fulfill a destiny that was designed for this very reason. To eat and become full. To fill and become All.
This fruit,
Kole thought.
This fruit…

Suddenly, he looked around him, aware of the animals at the edge of the wood watching him, waiting. Aware of his own nakedness in a world large and empty. Aware of creation holding its breath; of his vulnerability. Aware.

Kole set the forbidden fruit back down upon the stone. “No food today,” he said aloud, and the sun rose over the trees and warmed the air, and just like that, the spell was broken. “No food yet,” he said, remembering the words of the cherubim at the gate. He rose, and with one last look at the stone and its single occupant, he walked back toward the woods. And the world let out its breath, and the breeze felt good.

Kole walked back to the bank of the river where he had bathed the day before. His clothing and pack still lay in a tangle amongst the grasses and berry bushes. He picked it up and rinsed it in the clean waters, rubbing it and beating it against the rocks in the way his mother always had. In a natural shallow on a rock he crushed a particular kind of green sprout that grew along the edge of the water and watched as foam appeared. This he worked into the skin with some sand from the bottom of the river until most of the stains were gone. After laying his clothing on a bush to dry in the sun, he stretched out on the bank to nap. He had been in the garden for nearly three days now. He was feeling weak from hunger and was anxious to meet the Lord. He closed his eyes and pictured his sheep, the way they followed him, vying with each other for his attention. He missed them almost as much as he missed his family and hoped they were enjoying themselves in the fragrant meadow under the watchful eyes of the angel. He imagined each one of them in turn, naming them and visualizing their individual characters and personalities. One ewe, Mamel, was getting very heavy and Kole knew that she would soon have a lamb. His flock would increase in size. Kole started to mentally count his sheep, but counting the sheep always made him sleepy, and he began to drift off into a restless doze.

In a dream he saw a lamb walk up to him. It was not one of his lambs. This lamb had a glistening coat of wool and seemed to be larger than the rest. He knew it was not one of his seventeen, nor was it Nod, but it had a familiar look to it, nonetheless. Kole walked up to the sheep but hesitated to touch its head. The sheep had deep, liquid eyes that seemed to see past Kole’s skin and into his thoughts. They looked at each other until Kole felt an urgent need to look down at his feet. “Kole,” said the lamb.

Kole looked up in surprise, his mouth hanging open. “Kole,” the Lamb said again.

“You spoke to me?” Kole said stunned. “You are a speaking sheep? What manner of new creation is this?”

“Kole,” said the sheep.

“I am hearing you, lamb, but I do not know how to answer.”

“Wake up,” said the lamb.

“What did you say?”

“Wake up, Kole,” repeated the lamb.

Kole opened his eyes and saw that he was lying near the stream in the soft grass. His clothes were hanging from the bush, nearly dry, and many of the animals were lying in the grass as well, sleeping through the heat of the day.

“Kole,” said the same voice from his dream. Kole rolled over onto his belly and looked up the bank. A few cubits away from him was a man.