Eve: A Novel (26 page)

“I do.” And she meant it but even as she said it she felt herself resisting.

Internally Lilly stepped back a bit. “I mean, I really want to.”

The hug squeezed a bit tighter and Adonai spoke. “Lilly, you have always been worthy of being loved and I have always loved you. That has always been true, but you didn’t know.”

If there was anything deeper to undo, any lies, insinuations, or accusations that were closer to the bedrock of her self-awareness, she couldn’t have imagined it. She let the waves engulf her and sweep her back together, the fiery flame of His affection disintegrating everything that was not Love. For a moment it felt as if nothing would remain, but that thought itself ignited and burned away and she no longer cared, because in this single moment she trusted.

When the tumult and tides all settled down, Lilly realized that she was still curled up on Adonai’s lap as He leaned against the tree.

“Lilly,”—Eternal Man’s voice was gentle—“trust is about relationship, not power. When two dance, each is always respectfully attuned to the other. There is a timing to relationship, and that is Ruach’s playground.”

“And You trust the Holy Spirit?”

“I do,” Adonai laughed. “I mean, I really want to.”

Now Lilly laughed, recognizing her own words. “Trust has never been an easy thing,” she said with a sigh.

“It is not a thing at all, Lilly. It is the giving of your very self to another, to be weak and naked and unashamed. You have history and experience that tells you trust is a mountain impossible to climb. But you can and will.”

“Will I, Adonai? Will I ever climb that mountain?”

“Yes, dear one, you already are climbing, one step at a time, and not alone.”

She leaned back against his chest and closed her eyes, letting the sun caress her face and the sounds of insect activity capture her attention.

“How did You find me? I was sure I was going to die. It seemed easier for everyone, especially me.”

“You have never been lost to Me. Lost to yourself, but not to Me.”

That made Lilly smile, comforted and assured. “Now what? Can we stay here like this forever?”

“Come,” He said, and standing up, He lifted her to her feet. “Lilly, do you trust Me?”

“I do!”
And together they walked holding hands until they rounded the bend of a creek and she saw the fire of Eden’s boundary.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, perplexed and anxious.

“I am here to take you back inside. Lilly, do you trust me?”

“I can’t go through there,” she gasped. “I don’t belong there.”

“You are partly right. Lilith can’t go through the fire, but Lilly can, and it is Lilly who has always belonged here.”

Another choice, another crossroad. To dare to enter through that wall would mean that lies would be burned away. Could she let Lilith go? She felt an intense war within, as if Lilith were pleading.

“Lilly,” Adonai said, “look up and into My face. I am here and will never leave you. In any dance you sometimes lead, but always both submit. So now, dear Lilly, you must choose, and I submit to you.”

Holding out both hands, Eternal Man now backed into the fire. As he did, His eyes turned into flames, His robe cascading brilliant light, His feet like burnished brass.

Three times He had asked her to trust, and for the third time she made her choice. Reaching up, she took His hands, and He slowly led her inward until they were engulfed in a mass of blazing fire. The pain of holy judgment poured through her like a torrent raging and she gave herself to it, allowing it to rend from her the lies that had inhabited her spirit, soul, and body.

And when it seemed that all was undone and nothing remained, Almighty Voice of furious Love made an ultimate declaration. “Whatever
is alive will never die, and what is dead will be completely burned away.”

Lilly stepped through and opened up her eyes.

•  •  •

“L
ETTY
?”
SHE RASPED
. “W
HAT
are you doing here?”

“I’m knitting. Can’t you see? Knitting!” As if nothing had happened, the tiny woman returned to her familiar and welcome humming and her knitting.

“Where are we?”

“You are back in your room in the Refuge. The others have gone to catch some sleep. You have kept them up long hours, but your fever finally broke awhile ago and already you are rapidly improving, praise be to God. We thought you were a goner.”

Lilly laughed, her voice hoarse. “A goner? Really? So you drew night duty? Shortest straw?”

“I volunteered. I don’t need sleep like the others.” Letty allowed her needles to rest in her lap a moment, and she leaned in close to Lilly’s face. “What happened, Lilly? What brought you back? We thought you had lost all hope and we didn’t know how to reach you.”

“Adonai!” Lilly cleared her throat. “Adonai made the difference. He came and found me and healed me inside fire.”

“Ah, yes!” Letty smiled. “Everyone goes through fire, dear one, but the flame of His affection is
for
not
against
you. It purifies anything that is not Love.”

“Is it permanent?”

That made Letty laugh. “Hah, dear one, the truth is always
permanent, but you will still have to work out your new life with trepidation and trembling, being as you are so fragile and naked.”

“We were created to be that way, weren’t we? Naked and unashamed?”

“Indeed.” The little woman nodded, concentrating on her needlework once again.

“Letty, what are you making?” Lilly asked, curious. “It doesn’t seem like knitting is anyone’s
thing
around here.”

“I actually have no idea, but it helps me think and pray. I have dozens of these . . . these
things
that have no rhyme or reason. One day I will gather them all up and see if together they make any sense.”

“You are the best,” Lilly said with a giggle, letting the quiet of the night enfold them. Finally, Letty put down her tools and spoke, in a different tone entirely.

“Lilly, I have a confession to make.”

“You did something wrong?”

“Oh no, not that kind of confession. This is more like saying out loud something that you have been keeping to yourself.”

“Great, more secrets. I’m done with secrets.”

“No, not a secret either. A good surprise that has been waiting for the right time.”

“So is this the right time?”

“It is. Lilly, I am not exactly, well, I don’t really know how to say this, but I am not human.”

“Really?” Lilly laughed as if it were a shock. “That’s your surprise? Letty, I was never sure what you were, but human wasn’t
one of my guesses. So, if not human, then what are you?”

“Well?” She let out a little laugh. She was enjoying this. But the chuckle then led to a giggle, and that to a snort, which got them both laughing.

“Just tell me already,” Lilly insisted between her chuckles.

When Letty had finally settled down enough, she leaned forward, the clicking of her needles resuming again. “You know that Han-el is John’s Guardian, right?” Lilly nodded. The woman waited a moment. “Well, I am yours.”

“Mine?” Lilly was completely surprised. “Like my Angel Guardian?”

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?”

Lilly lay back in the bed, flabbergasted. “But aren’t you the town mayor or something, on the council and who knows what else?”

“I multitask.”

“Have you always been my Guardian?”

“Yes, always.”

“But I thought Guardians, you know . . . guarded.”

Letty stopped her knitting. “Did someone tell you I was good at this?” She laughed her shrill giggle. “Lilly, what we do would be simpler if humans weren’t so complicated. Most of you have such a low opinion of yourselves, you don’t begin to realize how powerful your choices and dominion are. Even human choices that are born of shadow-sickness must be treated with respect, because it is human beings who make them. So we watch and attend and
then interfere when allowed, which is my favorite part. It’s one of the reasons your prayers are so powerful. It lets us mess with things.”

They could hear John coming down the hall, whistling his usual melancholy tune.

“Does he know?” asked Lilly.

“No.” She grinned. “He just thinks I’m old and odd. A Curmudgeon is what I think he calls me.”

John entered, glanced at Lilly, and looked so relieved that she thought he might cry.

“Lilly!” he exclaimed, and gave her a hug, which she returned. Something had changed inside her and she felt none of her usual hesitation or caution. “To see you awake and looking so well is the best gift I can imagine. You two have been catching up, I see.”

“Some,” acknowledged Lilly. “But I still have lots of questions. I take it you know about Simon and the mirror?” It felt good to not have secrets to hide anymore, and Lilly was determined to keep it that way.

“Yes, we know,” John said. “Simon has been shadow-sick from the first day he arrived here with Anita and Gerald.”

“You knew and didn’t tell me?” Lilly was shocked.

“Would you have believed us?”

“Probably not,” she acquiesced. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“We needed time to determine what he was after. To tell you without proof would have driven you deeper into the dark that you were fighting.”

“Well, he said some pretty terrible things about you and the others.”

“In
the nicest sort of way, I imagine,” grunted John. “You have to give him an A for effort.”

“So where is he? Simon?” Lilly wondered, and again the other two exchanged glances.

“I set a trap, which he voluntarily sprung. As we speak, he is miles to the south being companioned, like Karyn is to the north. They need to discover they are not alone before they can really be together.”

“Karyn. His wife? But I thought she was—”

“Karyn was the Scholar who became shadow-sick before they even got here. That mirror of hers probably had a lot to do with it. Terrible device. Anyway, our hope is that after their individual healing they will be reunited, embarrassed but better.”

“So why did he want me to use the mirror?”

“When I confronted him, he said he truly believed that you could use the mirror to change history and return his wife to him.”

“Where’s the mirror now?”

“Locked away deep in the Refuge. Scholars will try and mine its secrets. A preventive measure.” John clapped his hands as if to end the discussion. “So, Lilly of last questions, anything else come to your mind before we take you to the kitchen and feed you? Oh, and by the way, I came just now to see if the Healers were right. They said you have made remarkable progress.
Unprecedented
, I think was their term, an ambitious term for experts. They told me that you could even try and walk, if you are up for that. But very slowly and with a lot of help.”

Lilly was thrilled. First, John helped her sit at the edge of the bed, which they then lowered until her feet touched the floor.
Carefully, she stood for the first time since her arrival. It was liberating, such a small success, but the effort left her light-headed, and after only a couple of wavering steps, she returned to the bed now converted into her chair.

“Amazing,” John declared, and Letty smiled ear to ear. “We will work on that and more. What do you think sparked such an
unprecedented
recovery?”

“Adonai,” Lilly replied.

“Of course,” affirmed John. “Adonai, and timing. Something I will never quite understand, but for which I am grateful!” He spoke it into the air as though talking to Someone invisible.

Letty led the way as John wheeled Lilly out. To Lilly, everything felt different, almost new, her senses heightened. She was thankful too and silently whispered such to Whoever might be listening.

Gerald and Anita, upon arriving in the dining area, rushed to give her hugs, which again she returned easily and openly.

They had barely sat when Lilly blurted out, “My thankful heart today is my best offering.” The others looked at her, bemused. “Well, I figured if I was ever going to learn to pray, this was as good a start as any.”

Over a comforting meal of soft eggs and buttered bread that tasted better than anything Lilly had ever put into her mouth, each person told their version of the past few days, with many laughs and occasionally a tear or two.

“Was I awful to you?” asked Lilly. “I was, wasn’t I? I am so sorry.”

“Not to worry, dear,” offered Anita. “We all were aware that
there was much more going on behind the curtain than we could see.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Lilly. “It was a lot worse than you could have imagined. Simon and the mirror convinced me I was Lilith.”

“Lilith? Really?” Gerald blurted, obviously irritated by the mere suggestion. “Sheer fabrication! Mythology that has no truth in history.”

“I remembered how you feel about her, but it didn’t matter. That mirror and its poison reflected back the lies I already believed about myself. That I was a worthless, ugly girl, who might redeem herself by doing one good thing—save the world by stopping Mother Eve from turning.”

“Wow!” stated John, surprised. “And how were you supposed to do that?”

“I’m embarrassed to say,” stated Lilly slowly. “I thought if I gave myself to Adam as a substitute for Eve, he would stop trying to get her to leave the garden and join him, and then the world would be changed.”

“I didn’t know about this,” admitted Anita, “but I don’t think anything has changed.” She looked back at Lilly. “Has it?”

“I don’t think so,” Lilly replied, now herself a little uncertain.

“What happened?” asked John.

“Adam rejected me, or rather, Lilith. He chose Eve. That’s when I thought I was going to die, and Adonai came and found me.”

“So if nothing has changed,” surmised Gerald, “then at some point Eve must have left the garden.”

“I don’t know,” stated Lilly sadly. “But that seems to make sense. And Adonai seemed to think she would. Why would she do that?”

No one had an explanation that aligned well with what Lilly knew about Eve.

As the conversation continued, Lilly became aware that Anita and Gerald seemed to be hesitant about finishing their meal, as if they were keeping something from her. Finally she asked, “What is going on, you two?”