Eve: In the Beginning (15 page)

Adam and I follow Elohim’s gaze as he points to the tree of life, nestled in its grove.

When Elohim’s gaze is back on us, I feel every part of my body tremble in anticipation. “Thou shalt never return to the Garden of Eden. I will place cherubim and a flaming sword to prevent you from partaking of the tree of life.”

Adam’s arm moves from being around me, and he clasps my hand in his.

“Come,” Elohim says, motioning for us to follow him.

Adam takes the first step, and I walk with him toward the east. Will we use the entrance to the garden that has been used only by Elohim?

My eyes become wet again as we walk toward the east border. Elohim has probably chosen to escort us to the east entrance to make sure we do not linger in the garden. As we pass the animals in the garden, the moisture in my eyes comes faster. I won’t see these animals again. I wonder if their bodies will change too. Have I caused them to Fall? Will they die?

I think of our dwelling and all of the care we have put into it. I think of the marks on the stone wall inside the alcove and of the rivers where Adam and I swam.

With each step taken in the direction of the east border, my legs feel heavier and heavier. So many times I’ve wondered what it is like outside the garden. I wanted to see more of our world — to know what else it contained — but now ...

Adam stops as I slow down. I look at him in the morning light. His eyes are nearly green today, the brown faded, and he is perspiring from our walk. “I don’t want to leave,” I say.

His expression is a mixture of understanding and concern. “I know,” he says, touching my cheek and drawing me close to him. I lean into him, feeling his heart beat rapidly against me.

When he releases me, he looks toward the garden entrance, then back to me, hesitation on his face. Elohim is near the entrance, and when we pass him, we’ll leave the garden forever.

But this must be. “We’ll do this together,” I say, my voice quiet but determined. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Adam says, the hesitation faded. We clasp hands tightly and walk the last few paces to the low rock wall. I can hardly believe we are actually going to cross the border and stand on soil that is not of the garden.

Adam stops before the entrance, where there is a sizeable gap in the stone wall. A tree grows on each side of the opening, and the branches from the two trees touch one another above us. The only being who has ever crossed this way has been Elohim.

We move closer to the entrance, standing to one side. Adam runs his hands against the stones that he’d stacked so long ago. I place my hands on the stone as well, feeling the solid coolness beneath my skin. I breathe out slowly.

Before I know it, Adam has stepped through the garden entrance. I glance at his extended hand and place my hand in his. Placing one foot in front of the other, I step through the entrance and across the border. My stomach flutters, and new moisture enters my eyes.

We have left the Garden of Eden.

Adam puts his arm around me, and we take a few steps together. We both look back at the same time, and we cannot see Elohim beyond the trees.

Then it happens. My legs give out, and I collapse to the ground. I gasp for air as my breathing feels suddenly shallow. Images of rock and dirt blur before me, and one part of me realizes that Adam too is on his knees, struggling for breath.

My strength leaves my body completely, and I fall forward. My hands scrape against the rocks, bringing stinging pain.

“Adam,” I call out, but no sound comes. I try to speak again, to know that Adam is all right, but I can’t even whisper. He is a huddled mass next to me. The only comfort that I have is that I can hear him breathing.

I concentrate on moving my arms, but my limbs are weighed down as if I am suspended at the bottom of a river. I can’t tell if Adam is trying to move as well. My eyes are open, but they feel heavy, as if I’ve missed sleep for several nights in a row. I force my eyes to stay open as I keep my gaze on Adam.

My stomach feels empty and numb. Then the numbness grows, moving through my body like a vast emptiness. I still can’t move, but finally I can manage a whisper. “What’s happening to us, Adam?”

I think I hear a whisper, but I can’t make out any words. My body starts to shiver. The heaviness is lifting, but it’s replaced with a hundred different sensations. Lifting my hands, I see that my skin is scraped. Lines of red peek through my palms among the grooves of torn skin.

It’s blood — just like the blood I saw on the snake. I have blood.

“Adam, look at my hands,” I say in a hoarse voice.

His head slowly turns. “You’re bleeding,” he says, his voice low and rough like my own.

Our eyes connect. His are reddened, and I know that mine must be too.

He exhales and reaches for my hands to examine them. “Does it pain you?” he asks.

“I think so.” I feel the sting anew as Adam lifts my hands toward him.

He touches one of the scrapes with his finger, and the blood smears. He looks at me with concern.

I look at the blood on both of our hands. “We have Fallen,” I whisper.

Adam stared into Eve’s eyes that were now rimmed in red. It was unmistakable. They had Fallen. Adam’s body felt different and even seemed to breathe differently. His stomach was tight with hunger, as if he hadn’t eaten for more than a day, and Eve’s hands were bleeding.

But the most noticeable difference was the emptiness he felt inside. Not only had he and Eve been cast out of the garden, but they had been cut off from the presence of Elohim, who was nowhere to be seen.

It wasn’t something that Elohim had told him, but Adam’s new knowledge circled in understanding. What they had in the garden couldn’t be duplicated outside. The Garden of Eden had been a special place, an exclusive existence.

Eve was shaking. Adam’s arms felt extremely tired, but he held her as they sat in the dirt. She sniffled and clung to him. Closing his eyes, he mouthed a prayer to Elohim. They may have been cut off from Elohim’s presence, but that wouldn’t stop Adam from sending pleas heavenward.

There was so much to learn, he was sure.
Now I am the one with the questions.

By the time he and Eve climbed to their feet, the sun was high in the sky. Without the luxury of soft grass, walking was a slower process. The rocks jabbed into Adam’s feet, and they quickly grew dirty. He and Eve continued north, staying near one of the rivers that flowed into the garden, for lack of any particular desire to go in another direction.

When Eve stopped to look back at the garden, Adam turned as well. They had traveled a fair distance, but he could still see the rock wall, the lush trees, and the incredible contrast between the garden and the landscape in which they now stood.

“I don’t want to lose sight of it,” Eve said in a quiet voice.

“Neither do I,” he said. “We should look for a place where we can prepare for the night while there’s still plenty of light.” He scanned their surroundings. Large mountains rose toward the east, and smaller hills moved westward. It seemed Adam and Eve were heading into a valley of sorts.

Not far was the river they’d been following. It was narrow, and scrubby bushes grew along its banks. Beyond the river was nothing but rocky terrain dotted with thin-looking trees. The wind rushed at them in gusts, stirring up the dirt at their feet. They’d already stepped into the river a few times, but, finding it quite cold, they’d lasted only long enough to wash off their feet and Eve, her hands.

“How far will we go, Adam?”

He looked at Eve. The red of her eyes had faded, but her face was as pale as the stones beneath their feet. “Not too much farther today,” he said. The base of the rising mountains was still a good distance, and they wouldn’t be able to reach the mountains before dark fell. She leaned against him, wrapping one arm around his waist.

He hadn’t realized that his skin had grown cold until she pressed against him. The warmth radiated from her, warming him where they touched.

“I’d like to visit the seas,” Eve said.

The words filtered up to Adam, and he nodded, realizing that this was a courageous statement for Eve. She was already looking past today and beyond the garden.

“We’ll visit the seas and the rest of this wilderness,” he said. “There will be plenty of days to see everything.” Although he said the words, he wasn’t sure how many days they’d live or how far they needed to travel. Mortality would be much different than immortality.

He smoothed the hair resting on Eve’s shoulder and felt her shiver beneath his touch. “It’s definitely cooler out here in the wilderness,” he said. He draped the coat of skin that Elohim had given him over her shoulders.

“This is yours,” she said, trying to give it back.

“I’m not cold,” Adam said. He secured the coat around her shoulders.

She finally accepted it but said, “We’ll need to make clothing that gives us more warmth and protection. We’ll be at the mercy of the sun, it seems.”

Adam let out a breath. The land was practically barren here compared to the garden. There was so much they had to prepare for, so much they had to learn. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of securing animal skins for him and Eve to clothe themselves in. Perhaps there was another way to cover their bodies without killing animals.

“Come on,” Eve said in a small voice. She linked one of her hands in his.

“How are your hands?” Adam asked.

“Better,” Eve said. “The cold water helped.”

They’d reached a bend in the river, where it turned east. The river widened, and the current slowed at the bend. To the north, the land sloped, dipping into a valley. The trees were thicker there, although they weren’t deep green like those in the garden. Instead, the trees were a mixture of pale greens, oranges, and browns.

Eve seemed to notice the varied trees at the same time as Adam did. “They are beautiful in their own way,” she said. “What do you think makes the trees different colors than those in the garden?”

Just then the breeze picked up, wrapping itself around Adam. “The cold air?” he said.

Eve blinked rapidly and looked down at the ground as they walked.
“Are you all right?” he asked.

She lifted a shoulder, and Adam noticed the tiny bumps along her arms. “I’m really hungry,” she said.

If Adam hadn’t been so hungry himself, he might have smiled at the way she said it. He hadn’t seen any fruit trees or berries growing on bushes in their travels so far. He looked farther along the river; none of the plants looked like the herbs they cultivated in the garden.

Eve followed his gaze as she rubbed her arms as if she could make the cold disappear. “I’m not hungry enough to try those plants.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She seemed to sag against him until he felt as if he were holding her up. “Let’s stop for a while and rest. I think we’ve walked equal to the whole perimeter of the garden.”

They sat together on the bank, just above where the water flowed. Little insects kept landing on Adam’s arms and biting him. He swatted them away, but they kept coming back. “What kind of insects are these?”

Eve was busy waving insects away from her own arms.

Then something growled from behind them. Adam turned with a start. A bear, its coat matted and brown, lumbered about a dozen paces away. It was slowly moving in their direction, its wary gaze on them.

“Oh, poor creature. It looks so lonely.” Eve started to climb to her feet, but Adam grabbed her arm.

“Wait,” he whispered. “It doesn’t look friendly.”

Eve glanced at him. “What do you mean? Maybe it’s just hungry like us.”

“Exactly,” Adam said, and Eve’s eyes widened.

“You don’t think —”

“Shh,” Adam said, searching the ground for a rock that he could use to defend them. He picked up a rock, although it wasn’t as big as he’d like. The bear was probably on its way to the river, but now that it had seen them, it might be deterred.

Eve grabbed a rock that was even smaller than Adam’s. He noticed she was trembling, but she kept her chin up, staring the bear down.

“What should we do?” she whispered.

“Stand up slowly,” Adam said, even though he had no grand ideas. “There are two of us, and we’re bigger. That might intimidate it.”

As he stood, Eve stayed right next to him. Eve had been right. The bear looked hungry — desperately so. Its eyes had a wild look to them, unlike the those of the beasts they’d known in the garden — the beasts that had never known hunger.

Another growl came from the bear.

“We’re going to cross the river,” Adam whispered. “Slowly walk backward with me.” With his right hand, he felt for Eve’s hand. He kept the rock gripped in his left hand. Eve’s hold was tight as they took a step back, then another. Soon, they’d made the few steps to the river’s edge.

Crossing the rocky riverbed while keeping their gazes on the bear proved difficult. Adam held Eve’s arm, helping to keep her steady. Thankfully, the river reached only their knees as they pushed through the sudden coldness.

By the time they reached the far bank, Eve was shivering. The bear had stepped into the river at the bend where the water slowed and created something of a pond, but its attention was no longer on them. Adam watched in fascination as the bear swiped at the water with its large paw.