Eve: A Novel (25 page)

“Why would I ever again choose such a devastating path?”

“You would have your reasons. You have the freedom to trust and the freedom to turn. This is the profound and sometimes painful mystery of community and love.”

“Will I always have this terrifying freedom?”

“Always! This is Love.”

In that moment Lilith loved Eve and felt more compassion for her than she’d ever felt for anyone else. She had to save her from Adam’s fate. Eve must not leave Eden. If Lilith could change Eve’s path, then she could change history, including her own story. She could save Simon’s wife and countless other girls. Perhaps it was possible to be something besides worthless. It was time.

“Stay here!” she ordered Han-el. “Don’t come with me.” The Angel bowed and held his place. She slipped easily through and out of Eden’s wall. Lilith knew she never would return here either.

•  •  •

“W
E FOUND IT
!” G
ERALD
exclaimed excitedly. “What Simon was hiding. We found it!” They
startled Anita in the middle of a bite of supper. Recovering, she looked at both men, confused, as John had a fist upraised as if to show her. But he was holding . . . nothing.

“Congratulations!” She rolled her eyes and wiped her mouth. “I send men to find something and they come back excited about nothing.”

“My dearest heart,” Gerald entreated, “it’s a blender’s bag. It absorbs the light to become virtually invisible: that’s why we didn’t see it before. But this time when we went through Lilly’s room, it was sitting hidden on her journal.”

Anita put down her spoon, the expression on her face shifting from annoyance to amazement. “Well, what’s in it? Did you find the ring and key?”

“No,” added Gerald. “Something sinister, an ancient blood-stone mirror.”

John drew it out of its sheath carefully, with two fingers by the handle until it was totally exposed. He laid it on the table. The three gathered around it.

“I’ve studied these,” said Gerald. “They are very rare, a dark arts favorite—mirrors that lie to you.”

Anita chuckled. “Personally, I have found this true of almost every mirror.”

“Not like this one,” continued Gerald. “Do you see how there is no image on the surface, just a swirling gray, and right here”—he pointed, keeping his finger at a distance—“is the blood stone,
in this case a diamond. This you mustn’t touch, for it will draw your blood. If you look closer you can see dried blood here and here. Lilly’s, I suspect. We’ll test it. The stone is said to absorb your life and then reflect your deepest truth of being, who you are at the very core of your soul.”

“It can do that?” asked Anita, astonished.

“Of course not,” reassured Gerald. “That is all hocus-pocus. The intention is to draw your attention to the blood, but that’s only misdirection. What it really does is inject you with a poison, whatever that might be, a drug or neurotoxin or combination to make the person highly suggestible. It plays on their worst fears and self-loathings.”

“I will get this to the Scientists right away,” said John, returning the mirror to its cover and putting them both into a box. “We can’t ascertain what Lilly saw, but I am certain it was not good.”

•  •  •

L
ILITH DIDN’T HAVE TO
go looking for the serpent. It found her soon after she had left Eden’s sanctuary.

“State your purpose,” it demanded, and Lilith smiled. The snake was barely able to raise its head above the ground, and she towered over it.

“A win-win plan,” she stated. Lilith had intended to go directly to Adam, but alliance with the beast could be helpful if Adam needed to be persuaded.

“I am listening,” the creature replied.

“I heard Adonai’s promise to Eve, that her child would one day crush your head.”

“I
have had better days. What do you propose?”

“As long as Eve remains in Eden, she can’t bear a child. Could one who has the power to crush your head be born apart from Adam? If they remain apart, won’t you rule in safety?”

The serpent was silent for a long time before speaking. Finally it said, “Adam is inconsolable. He seeks any means to bring her here.”

“He turned his face from God and from his counterpart. He is alone, but I can ease his loneliness.”

The beast understood. “You? You would offer yourself to him? Why?”

“To keep Mother Eve safe, and many others.”

“Ah, you are Eve’s daughter. But that makes you all the more dangerous, to Adam and to me. Adonai said her seed would crush my head, but could not that seed be you?”

Lilith was ready. “No! Eve said it would be a man-child. I was prepared for such a choice as this. I cannot bear a child and will never be a threat. I can serve a purpose both to Adam and to Eve.”

“And why would Adam want a miserable nothing nobody like you, who willingly would sell herself for this purpose?”

The serpent spoke the truth about her. She stopped walking and scowled down at it. “You think I am a whore? Does it matter if I am? No. What matters is that we will all get exactly what we want.”

The snake coiled itself as if to strike, then rested its head upon the ground. “Adam’s darkness is maturing, but it can’t compare with yours. You either have no idea who you are, or you no longer care. I will find Adam.”

The serpent slithered out of sight, leaving Lilith shivering in the
early evening cool. She sat on a rock, looking down at dirty hands and legs, her dress torn ragged by thistles and thorns. A brook and pond sang their innocent song, and Lilith washed her hands and face. A lingering sun reflected off its mirrored surface, and she beheld a young girl’s face that was strong and full of promise. Running her hand through the image, it rippled out and away. It only told the lie, not the truth beneath it.

Soon she heard Adam’s approach in heated conversation, but when he saw her, he stopped and stared, until Lilith became uncomfortable.

“Who sent you here?”

“Eve. She loves you and is sad that you are lonely.” It wasn’t an outright lie but was probably as far as truth could be bent without completely breaking. “Adam, I will be your companion. Leave Eve with God in Eden. She’s better off there. With me you won’t feel alone. I can satisfy you. Leave her with God, I beg you.”

Adam raised a hand to silence her and think.

“You are right,” he finally said. “I have been thinking only of myself and the things that I have lost. I understand clearly. I will no longer go each day and beg for her to leave and come to me. She is in the better place, where toil is not her existence and she is embraced by God’s Love.”

He sat down on the ground and repeatedly threw dirt up on his head, moaning, “I miss her to my bones. Each day I feel less reason to be living.”

Lilith took a spot next to him on the ground, close but not touching. Adam’s tears mixed with the dirt, and mud became his shroud. Without looking he reached out and took her hand.

“The
serpent tells me you are Eve’s daughter? Truly?”

“I am.”

“And you would do this for your mother? Become my wife?”

“Yes, by my own choice.”

“Can you promise me a son?”

And in that question Lilith was trapped. Did Adam know? Had the serpent told him? If she lied and he knew it, that could be the end of her plans. If she told the truth, that could also be the end.

“Some things take time and—”

“Lilith.” Adam squeezed her hand. “Can you promise me a son?”

Despair descended and gripped her heart, the words barely able to form. “No, Adam, I cannot.”

“Look at me,” he said tenderly. As difficult as it was, she raised her head and looked into his dark and gold-flecked eyes, his face a mess of dirt and tears, a tired smile embedded there.

“Even if you could promise me a son, I would have said no. Eve is my beloved and I will learn to live without her. I will not betray her a second time. Lilith, Eve has no substitute and neither do you. This deceptive darkness I perceive in you, that would cause you to sell yourself for less than love, I know I am its source. One day, perhaps, you will find a place within your heart to forgive me too, for I must be your father.”

Lilith came undone. She had been rejected. Her fury toward the men who had made her this damaged property now fueled her own self-loathing. She wrenched herself away from Adam and stood.

“I hate you!” she snarled, and turning, ran into the darkness of
the forest. Adam let her go. The only thing left for her was to find a place to die.

•  •  •

J
OHN RUSHED INTO THE
room where Gerald and Anita were poring over books.

“Lilly has taken a turn for the worse,” he announced.

“Who is watching her?” snapped Anita like a brooding mother hen.

“Letty is with her,” replied John.

“I was afraid of this,” moaned Gerald, slamming the tome he had been reading down on the table. He picked it up and slammed it down again. “I can’t find what it is that is catalyzing the poison. We know its chemical breakdown, we know the plants from which it is derived, we have given her every variation of antidote and antitoxin and anti-everything, but she is dying and I feel completely helpless. And I’ve been praying too, in case you are wondering. Haven’t stopped praying.”

“Me too, Gerald, me too!” Anita whispered.

She wrapped her arms around her husband and he let her hold him, the sobs of his pent-up frustration finding some release.

“Maybe there isn’t a cure,” John suggested.

“What do you mean?” asked Anita. “There has to be one.”

“Not if the poison is not biological or chemical or neurological. What if what Lilly saw in that mirror took away her hope? Or her sense of meaning?”

“Or significance or love,” added Anita. “That makes sense. Without hope, even an otherwise healthy person can die. And
Lilly had barely begun to heal physically, much less emotionally.”

“If this is true,” Gerald said, “what do we do?”

“Gerald, you’ve already said it,” John said. “We do the only thing we know to do and leave the rest to God. We will pray and sing and talk to her, and anoint her with oil. Are we not elders?”

Letty poked her head into the room. “Pardon my intrusion, but I have news. Don’t look at me that way, Anita. Lilly is never left alone. The Caretaker is arriving tomorrow, but we don’t know for whom he’s coming. Possibly Lilly.”

It was an unexpected blow and John recovered first. “Then we had better get busy praying and anointing, shouldn’t we? I know prayer is never magic or any other kind of manipulation, but right now, I am prepared to bargain with my life.”

•  •  •

L
ILITH’S LAST HOPE WAS
that death would find her quickly and painlessly. She curled up in a little ball under a massive, ancient tree. The irony of trying to stay warm while trying to die didn’t escape her. Sometimes natural survival mechanisms were a nuisance.

She could feel her soul slowly leaking out her life, fractured and full of holes that even lies could no longer seal. Her last words screamed at Adam were the ultimate proof of a wasted life. In this moment she was brutally honest: she hated everything. “Damn you, Adam! Damn you, God! Damn me! Damn us all!” she shouted. But who was she to make such withering pronouncements? She was nothing and no one.

It was as if someone had captured her entire life in a series of photographs. Lying there dying, she was forced to look at every one. Each picture of a memory was one more accusation. There was no Good in her.

Whether dreaming or delusional, she danced in ragged clothes, surrounded by broken toys and the clicks of locking doors. And in the mix of harsh colors, and as the music slowly faded away, she thought she glimpsed Adonai’s presence but then turned away. Peace washed over her. She was glad to die. Finally she would find the rest that would sweep her cares away. Heaven was no option, but hell could not be worse than the life she’d known.

There He was again, offering a smile, a kind look, a brief touch as she tried again to turn away.

The leafy branches she had gathered for a last bed now seemed a living cushion, the weight of her life lifted and held in tender mercy. Her last thought as the darkness of unconsciousness descended was, “If dying is this easy, I should have done it sooner.”

T
hey
were not soft branches that held her but the strong and tender arms of Adonai. He sat under the ancient tree and sang to her an ancient song of stars and of Beginnings, of joy and hope and all things Love where nothing was unkind. It was the sweet song of healing and rest. It called to deepest longings and welcomed her like home was always meant to.

Taking a deep breath, Lilly slowly opened her eyes. At another place and time she would have denied His presence, but here and now it felt as though nothing else had ever been as real. She was done with all her running, had fallen and hit the ground, then finally found a place on which to rest. So she did what any child would do. Turning, she buried her face into His chest, sobbing, tears cascading as He wrapped His peace and love around her.

She had been waiting her entire life for this. She was knowing and being known beyond understanding, grasping the deepest mystery of why music invades, ignites, and then dwells in the
soul, finding a forever habitation. There was nothing she wanted other than to be completely found inside this Eternal Man, to be heard and seen and celebrated.

“Lilly, it is you I love,” came the voice like healing waters. The words themselves were living and dismantling. She felt that she would never have to hear another sound or syllable. This was sufficient, and in this firm and everlasting embrace, all that had been broken or stolen could be found, restored, and celebrated.

“Lilly, do you trust Me?” It was a question not about belief but about person, character, and relationship, and only asked for this solitary moment suspended in the fabric of the time’s cosmos. It needed no justification, reason, or defense. It was simple and clean, and so too was her immediate response, delivered in a mixture of snot and tears.