Eve: In the Beginning (19 page)

I stay quiet for another moment, missing Adam’s arms around me and wondering if he slept as poorly as I did.

When I emerge from the shelter, Adam turns. There are shadows beneath his eyes, and it’s as I guessed: he has slept little.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, tossing a branch into a growing pile.

“Enough,” I say.

He gazes at me for a moment as if he is about to ask another question, but instead he turns back to his work. He is serious today, intent on working, it seems. I walk to the river to wash myself and to drink. Along the shore I discover that a few of the bushes grow berries. It seems we’ve found a good place to set up a dwelling.

When I step out of the river, I walk a little ways east, where the river tumbles down the rocks from someplace above. The thundering sound of the water fills my ears, blocking out the sound of breaking branches. I step closer to where the water falls from the mountain, feeling the water’s cold spray upon my skin. The water moves so fast, never stopping or slowing, that I marvel at its power and persistence.

When I step away, I hesitate. Two black eyes are watching me from near the falling water. On the other side of the river, across the gorge, is a leopard.

This one looks gaunt; the outline of its bones at its shoulders and sides angle sharply as if there is very little flesh on the animal. Its gaze narrows in my direction as it watches me.

I have stroked the leopards in the garden, but I know that this one is not like those that I knew. With this leopard, I can almost feel its hunger as it stares. Then I notice the collection of brown fur at its feet and the stain of red on the leopard’s paws and mouth. The small critter in front of the leopard has lost its life, becoming a meal.

My stomach jolts, and I want to turn and run, to scream for Adam. But I’ve seen leopards run, and I realize it wouldn’t be much of a task for the leopard to leap the river and chase me down.

I breathe out, my heart pounding furiously.
O Elohim
,
I pray silently,
I know that I’m unworthy of thy attention. But please deliver me from this beast.
As I pray, I simultaneously think of what I should do. Throw a rock? Turn and run? Not do anything? I think of the branches that Adam has collected, and I wonder how fast I could run to the pile and use a branch in defense.

The leopard tears into the critter in front of it, and even though I don’t want to watch its teeth sinking into the helpless flesh, I can’t take my eyes off the large feline. As I watch the animal eat, I realize the leopard is more protective of its prey than predatory, at least while there is still something left to eat.

As the leopard clamps into the next bite, I turn and start to run.

I don’t dare look back, but I’m listening for any sound of following — although above the sound of the water, I may not hear anything before it’s too late.

When Adam comes into view, my throat is too tight to call out. I run to the pile of branches and pick a branch up, spinning around, expecting a leopard to be running at full speed toward me.

But there is no threatening beast.

“Eve? What’s wrong?” Adam asks.

My breath heaves out of me as I say, “Leopard.” Adam is in front of me in an instant, gripping a large branch in his hands.

“Where?” he whispers.

It takes a couple of deep breaths before I am able to answer. “Where the river falls.”

“You walked that far alone?”

He is in front of me, so I can’t see his face, but his tone says it all.

“Yes, I wanted to see —”

“Shh,” he says.

We both stand still, looking in the direction that I ran from. A small critter scampers across the ground, and Adam visibly relaxes, but my stomach only clenches tighter.

“It was eating one of those animals,” I say in a quiet voice.

Adam turns slightly, glancing at me. “Which side of the river was the leopard on?”

“The other side, but it would have no trouble crossing.”

He is now fully looking at me. “I doubt it will cross, especially if it has something to eat over there.”

I look into my husband’s grim face. “You didn’t see how it glared at me.”

Adam gazes at me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “Don’t go anywhere without me. We don’t know what else is out there.”

“I won’t,” I say. My breathing is about to return to normal, but now that Adam is staring at me, it picks back up.

He brushes the matted hair from my face, smoothing it behind my ear. “You must remember that we can die out here.” His voice is quiet, almost reverent.

Something shudders through me, something I’ve come to recognize as fear. Our death can come unbidden. What if Adam dies first, and I am left alone? “I know.” I notice the scratches on Adam’s arms and hands from breaking branches. “Have you injured yourself?”

He looks down at his arms. “No. This is part of the work.”

I am silent, and I can’t look at him. I know he is not complaining, but we’re in this wilderness suffering this cold and hunger because of my choice.

“Eve,” he says, his voice just above a whisper.

I say nothing because my throat suddenly tightens.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” he continues.

I only nod. I know he couldn’t sleep. It was too cold, and he is probably much hungrier than I am.

“I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” he says.

My head snaps up, and I stare at him. He certainly sees my flushed face and tears.

“You’ve kissed me many times,” I say, my voice sounding raspy, as though I’ve just awakened for the day.

His head tilts, and he moves closer to me. “I have a desire to kiss you on your mouth.”

If his expression wasn’t so earnest, I might have laughed and pushed him away. But his eyes are holding mine, and there is a depth that I dare not make light of.

He is so close to me, and I’m not sure when he dropped the branch that he was holding, but his hands are sliding behind my back. His warmth consumes me as he draws me near, and I can think only that yes, I want to kiss him too.

Adam leans down, moving all too fast yet all too slow.

When his lips touch mine, I want to pull him even closer. I slide my hands up his chest and behind his neck, clutching him tighter. His mouth presses harder against mine, and a new numbness travels through my body. I feel as if I am no longer standing on the hard dirt but perhaps on a cloud, floating in the sky along with Adam.

His lips touching mine are like sunshine and mist in the same moment, warm and cool together. He breaks away slightly so that we can breathe, and then his mouth is on mine again, and we somehow manage to breathe together. Adam’s arms tighten around me, and my fingers tangle in his hair.

His lips move against mine, no longer still, and I am reminded of swimming underwater in the river, floating through the absolute silence as my body moves weightlessly.

“I see you’re enjoying the pleasures of this world,” a voice says, cutting through my body.

I break away from Adam, my blood still pulsing hot beneath my skin. I know whom the voice belongs to before I see him.

And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.

Genesis 2:23

“Lucifer,” I whisper.

He stands just within the shade of the trees. His black eyes seem to flash, even in the shadows. I feel his gaze touching my skin and moving along my body. Adam releases his hold on me, and I grasp his arm, staying close.

Lucifer wears a coat of skin the color of the earth. It wraps around his narrow waist. Across his torso, he wears a thin robe. He doesn’t move. He just slides his gaze to Adam, then back to me. And smiles.

I shiver under that smile and feel my skin heat. I am no longer floating. My feet and legs are anchored to the cold, solid earth.

“What are you doing here?” Adam asks. His voice is thick, and I tremble as I remember his kissing.

I release Adam’s arm but stay close. Our hands find each other, and we clench each other’s fingers.

“You’re in my world now.” Lucifer’s voice is smooth in the silence of the trees. “I can teach you everything you need to know.”

Adam’s grip tightens on my hand. “We aren’t looking to learn from you.”

I nod, but my neck is stiff, and I can barely move it. Going from the haziness that Adam’s kiss brought to facing the disgraced angel who led us to fall makes me feel as if I jumped into the deepest part of the coldest river.

“You’re looking for someone else?” Lucifer says. “And who will teach you how to live in this world?” He scans the pile of branches.

I breathe out. “We’re waiting for communication from Elohim.”

Lucifer’s smile twists in laughter. “
Elohim?
I haven’t seen him anywhere in this wilderness.”

The darkness of Lucifer’s gaze seems to press into me, making my skin feel heavy. Adam and I have been praying, but we have Fallen from Elohim’s physical presence. We have been so focused on finding food and creating shelter that we have talked little of our relationship with Elohim. I do have hope that Elohim will still speak to us, but Lucifer’s words are like a sharp rock against my chest.

Lucifer steps forward into the yellow light of day, his eyes muting.

Adam moves in front of me, his body a barrier between our brother and me.

“You don’t need to be troubled, my brother,” Lucifer says. “I’ve not come to separate you from your wife again.”

I can’t see the expression on Adam’s face, but I sense the tension in his hand that grips mine. “Leave us alone,” Adam says. “You have nothing to offer us.”

“I have more to offer than you think.” Lucifer moves forward again, and this time he keeps walking until he’s near.

Adam holds his place between Lucifer and me, but I meet my brother’s gaze. Lucifer may have persuaded me to listen to him before Adam and I Fell, but I will not let him mislead me again.

“Why have you come, Lucifer?” I ask.

“To help you further your knowledge,” he says, “just as I promised you in the garden.”

Adam lets out his own laugh. “We don’t believe any promises from you.”

Lucifer’s eyes are on me again, and I feel as if he’s moved closer
without
moving. “We will see.” His voice is slow. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Adam slides an arm around me. “Then we’ll leave.” We turn away from Lucifer, but I can feel his gaze still on me.

“Why do you hasten from me?” His voice is slow, measured, quiet, but it reaches us all the same. I can hear the smile in his tone as he says, “You are walking away from the one who can teach you all that you desire to know.”

Adam stops, and I anticipate him turning around to face Lucifer again, but he says only, “We desire nothing from you.”

“Is that so?” Lucifer’s voice arches.

Adam’s body is tense, and he turns around, bringing me with him. The space we’ve put between Lucifer and us allows me to breathe more freely.

Lucifer’s eyes slant as they slide over me. “I can teach you how to protect your wife from the roaming beasts and how to build a shelter that keeps her warm.”

I feel it — the slightest pause from Adam. For an instant, I feel the weight of his hesitation rolling with his desire to protect me, to care for me.

And I can see that Lucifer feels it too. His voice drops to a whisper, yet it reverberates all around us. “I can teach you how to feed your wife so that she’ll never feel the pang of hunger.”

I tug on Adam’s hand, pulling him away from our brother — away from the lips that curl with knowledge and the dark eyes that seem to see straight into our hearts. Adam steps back with me. Lucifer makes no move to come any closer.

“We don’t need your help.” Adam’s voice is low, resolute. “We make haste because the best protection I can offer my wife is to stay away from you.”

We take another step back and turn toward the river.

Lucifer is quiet as we walk away, but that doesn’t mean his voice isn’t still in my head. Adam is right: the farther away from him we are, the better off we’ll be. Even so, I want to bring up the possibility of the leopard still being at the riverbank, but apparently Adam prefers the danger of a hungry beast to the presence of our brother. He grips my hand so hard that pain shoots up it.

I don’t protest but follow where Adam leads me. We climb up a slope, higher and higher, until we are both out of breath. Finally, he stops and turns to look over the river and the place where Lucifer was watching us.

There is no sign of the leopard, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking there could be other desperate beasts nearby. Could Lucifer teach us how to protect ourselves? I dismiss the thought, wondering why I’d even consider it.

Adam and I sit together on the slope, and he says nothing about what Lucifer offered or the kiss that he interrupted. I can still feel the heat of it on my lips. My face flushes at my thoughts, and I’m grateful I’m sitting a little behind Adam. He tosses a rock down the slope.

“Should we find another place to build a shelter?” I say. “Now that Lucifer knows where we are dwelling?”

Adam throws another rock, this one landing in the river below. “He’ll find us no matter where we settle.”