Eve: In the Beginning (7 page)

“I don’t know,” Eve said, taking a step away from the mat. “Did you find it somewhere?”

He met her confused gaze, feeling as if his heart had just leapt from his chest. “You didn’t bring it into the alcove and drape it over yourself?”

“No,” Eve said, her voice a whisper.

“Then who did? Because I found it on you,” Adam said, barely able to choke out the words. The sun had crested the horizon, and suddenly it felt too hot on his skin.

Someone had been in their alcove. Someone, or something, had touched his wife. He walked to where Eve stood, and with her, he examined the mat carefully, his stomach twisting with each moment.

Again, he knew it was from an animal. A deer? The pale color was similar to the color of the deer in the garden, although it was lighter and not quite the same color. Did that mean this deer came from outside the garden, from someplace in the wilderness? Did whoever brought it come from outside as well?

Eve touched his arm. “It looks like —” Her voice broke off, as if she couldn’t say what she thought aloud.

“Perhaps cattle or deer.” He stared down at the mat stretched across the boulder. “It was made from an animal’s skin.”

Her grip tightened on his arm. “How can that be so? That would mean ... something else has died.”

Adam nodded. He hated looking at the thing, hated that it represented death — and a torturous death, no doubt. He turned to face Eve. Her normally light blue-green eyes were gray and troubled. “Another beast has been killed,” she said. “What does this mean?”

“I don’t know,” he said in a toneless voice. He quickly dismissed the possibility of Elohim visiting in the night and placing a covering over Eve. It had to be someone else. He crossed to Eve and took her hands in his, looking her in the eye. “Do you remember anyone coming into the alcove last night?”

She shook her head, but she didn’t meet his gaze.

“What is it?” he asked. “Please tell me.”

She hesitated, which alarmed him even more. When had she ever kept her thoughts to herself?

“I had a dream,” she said slowly. “Or at least I thought it was a dream.” She looked down at their intertwined hands. “I’ve been having the same dream for many days.”

Adam waited. Her hands were moist in his, and her breathing increased in tempo.

“In my dream is always a shadow, although I’m not sure of what. I don’t know if it’s a person or some sort of animal.”

“What does it do in your dream?” he asked.

“It’s just there, and if I wake up right after, it’s as if the shadow is still near me, although I can’t see it anymore.”

“But how can a
shadow
kill animals?” Adam said. Eve didn’t answer him; he was not surprised. He didn’t have the answer either.

And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night.

Genesis 1:16

My hands tremble as I smooth them over the mat made of animal skin. I have never seen anything like it, nor could I have imagined it. The bristles of hair that remain on the skin are stiff and prickly. The smell has faded a little beneath the sun. Today, Adam has told me we are not leaving the dwelling. Tomorrow is the seventh day, and he hopes that Elohim will visit.

I have many questions to ask Elohim.

My heart cries out for the poor beast that met its death. I don’t like to consider how the animal died, what methods could have possibly been used to remove its entire skin, or who could perform such an act.

It’s unfathomable, yet it happened. It’s real. The evidence is before me.

Adam is within sight, as he always is now, watching me from time to time. I know that he is thinking about all my questions, and I know that he’s added his own to them now. In the past two days, we’ve come across two instances of death — in our Garden of Eden, where there is no death. The impossible has happened.

It troubles me, but I believe that Elohim wouldn’t put us in direct danger. We are his creations, and he knows all things. He must know what is happening in our beloved garden. He
must
.

Then I wonder if Elohim knows about my dreams ... and of the shadow that haunts them. When Adam calls my name, I turn slowly in the direction of his voice as if in a daze. I feel weary today, and I think it’s because of the wondering. Is the shadow in my dream a real, tangible thing? How can a shadow have the form and agility to bring death to the garden?

I leave the skin mat behind on the boulder and walk over to where Adam’s looking out over the pond. When I reach him, he points to the far side of the pond that cuts into a grouping of bushes and vines.

“Do you see the vines, how they’ve been cleared?”

I stare across the water, trying to remember how that area looked the morning before, when I last bathed in the pond. I probably wouldn’t have noticed the vines if Adam hadn’t drawn my attention to them. But now I realize the blooms on the vines have been crushed, and some of the blooms have fallen to the bank of the pond.

“Wait here,” Adam says. He wades into the water, the quickest way to reach the other side. I step into the water to follow.

“Has someone been living here?” I ask as we reach the opposite bank.

Adam helps me out of the water, locking his hand over mine. Up close, there is more visible disturbance to the vines. It’s almost as if someone, or something, had trampled a pathway through the foliage.

Adam looks at me, and I know what he wants to tell me.

“No,” I say before he can speak. “I’m coming with you.”

His jaw tenses, but he faces forward, and we walk through the crushed opening separating the tangled vines — he in front, I behind.

The ground starts to slope upward, and we follow the trail that seems to have been freshly made. I look behind me frequently, wondering who or what we are about to encounter.

When Adam stops, I move to his side to see what he sees. The grass and plants have been tramped down to create a circular space. The flattened space is not large enough for someone — at least someone our size — to sleep on. But it still appears that someone has been sitting here — and not just once.

Adam releases my hand and crouches down to inspect the ground. He runs his fingers along the collection of leaves and grass, turning over leaves as he goes. I don’t know what we are looking for, but anything different, we should notice — like a mat made of a dead animal.

As he searches, I look at the surrounding bushes. I try to imagine what might have been here and what might have been strong enough to kill animals. I listen for any unusual sounds but hear nothing except a few birds in the trees above and the sound of Adam brushing through the bed of leaves.

Finally, he stands. The expression on his face tells me that he’s very worried, and I grab his hand. “We’ll stay together,” I say.

When the darkness of night comes, Adam refuses to lie by my side or let sleep claim him. He keeps watch at the opening of the alcove. At first I sit by him for a long time, but when the moon is high in the sky, my eyes grow heavy.

I fall asleep watching Adam’s back, the shadows of the trees turning into shadows in my dream.

Adam moved toward the boulder draped in the skin mat. He thought he’d seen a shadow — the form of a man or a woman just beyond the border of the dwelling. One moment it was there. Then it was gone.

As reluctant as he was to leave Eve alone in the alcove, he had to see what passed between the trees beyond the boulder. Adam crouched behind the boulder, waiting and listening. Something rustled. A leaf? A branch? And then he saw it — not
it
but
him
.

It was not a shadow but a human. In the moonlight, it was clear he was a man, tall and lean. Adam tensed, disbelief and confusion colliding in his mind. How could there be another person in the garden? Had Elohim created him too? Adam exhaled, and the barest noise caused the man to turn. For the briefest of moments, their eyes locked.

Then the man was gone, disappearing into the trees without a sound.

Staring at the space that the intruder had just occupied, both curiosity and dread coursed through Adam. Should he follow the man? He had to, he decided.

Adam raced around the boulder in the direction where the stranger had stood, but there wasn’t even a whisper of the man’s passing. Adam crouched to the ground, hoping to hear the sound of footsteps more clearly. For there had to be the sound of footsteps, even if they were leading away.

The moon was a nearly full sphere tonight, and the stranger shouldn’t have been able to disappear so completely, so swiftly. But he was faster than any animal Adam had encountered.

Who is he? And what does he want?

Adam picked his way through the underbrush as quietly as possible. Had the stranger gone toward the pond? Had he fled to another part of the garden? Adam slowly turned around, looking for any evidence of the man’s whereabouts — a moving branch, a bird awakening with a start, a critter scurrying to get out of the way.

But there was nothing.

Had the man been watching he and Eve when they discovered the lair on the other side of the pond? Or would the stranger return there now, believing he was concealed from discovery?

Adam cast a look toward the alcove where Eve slept. He could just see the opening from his position. Had that been where the stranger was going until he saw Adam?

Heart pounding, Adam took a deep breath. He had to find the man — tonight.

Adam decided to check the perimeter of the pond, then return to the alcove. He didn’t want to be gone too long, but he had to find out more about the intruder. Until he heard further instruction from Elohim, Adam would do everything he could to get answers from the man.

Adam made his way toward the pond, keeping beneath the trees when possible, creating more shadow for himself. He hoped to come upon the strange man unexpectedly. At one point, he stooped and picked up a rock that was long and narrow. Normally, the rock was something he’d use as a tool to turn soil, but tonight it gave him a way to defend himself. Adam didn’t know what to expect from someone who had killed animals.

Creeping around the pond, Adam stopped every few paces to listen. The stream running into the pond masked a lot of sound that he might otherwise hear. He looked frequently toward the south, where Eve slept, as if he could hear her if she awakened.

He switched the rock he carried from one hand to the other. Its solid weight in his hand gave him some comfort.

Adam stopped on the north side of the pond. It was impossible to get to the newly discovered habitation without getting into the water. The stranger had picked a well-concealed place to keep his lair. Adam was about to step into the water when he thought he heard a voice — a whisper. It was incomprehensible, and he questioned whether he’d heard anything at all above the sound of the trickling stream running into the pond. Still, he waited.

Above the noise of the water, it was hard to tell where the sound came from. Should he go back to the alcove? Or should he continue through the pond? Adam slipped into the water, determined to see if the lair was empty. Then he’d return to the alcove. Just as he reached the other bank, his foot caught on something, and he splashed forward into the water. He pulled himself out of the water and onto the bank. He didn’t remember large rocks being at the bottom of the pond before.

He waited on the bank for a moment, listening to see if his disturbance had attracted the man in his direction. But he heard nothing out of the ordinary.

Soaking wet, he climbed to his feet and walked through the opening in the vines. As he had the day before, he followed a trail of sorts until he reached the tramped area. Everything looked untouched in the moonlight. There was no one there, and he hadn’t heard any sounds since he waded through the pond.

It was time to get back to Eve.

As Adam turned, something moved in front of him, but he didn’t have time to comprehend what or who it was before a hand shot out toward his face. Adam stumbled back, trying to avoid the thrust by raising the rock he carried in front of him, swinging it wide, but he hit nothing.