As
the sun began to sink slowly towards the smudge of hills on the distant
horizon, Adam turned and gazed backwards for the last time. Far away in the
west lay that place which for a brief time he had called Paradise.
The glossy-leaved cedars and the tall swaying palms filled with chattering
monkeys and parakeets were no longer visible. There the breezes blew gently and
the grass was soft beneath your feet. Now the ground was sun scorched and hard
and no birds sang in the dusty, alien trees. The sky was darkening but where they
had come from there was a strange bright glow flickering. The angel with a
fiery sword stood guard over the entrance to Eden, barring forever their return.
Sensing the air around him growing strangely
colder with the darkening sky, Adam anxiously scanned the rocky cliffs ahead
for some form of shelter.
“Eve, hurry” he called over his
shoulder, “There’s a hollow in the rocks ahead. We must reach it before
nightfall.”
Eve nodded numbly, too tired to
reply. She stepped haltingly, her eyes fixed on the ground, following his
footprints, not caring really where they led.
As they approached the rocky cliff Adam was relieved to discover
that the hollow he had seen from afar was a spacious cave, with a clean dry
floor. He moved aside several large rocks and spread the soft sand evenly with
his hands. Eve had busied herself outside and now returned with arms full of
dry grass on which to lie for the night.
“Here,” she said softly, holding out a handful of small red berries
that she’d gathered during the day. He ate the strange fruit hungrily, its
taste bitter and barely satisfying the gnawing feeling in his stomach.
“We must soon find some land to grow our food,” Eve added, with a
voice filled with pain.
“There will be time enough tomorrow. Rest now Eve.” Adam watched as
she lay down on the bed of grass, her eyes closing in exhaustion, asleep within
a few seconds. He gently drew her fur skins close around her sleeping form with
a feeling of great tenderness. She blamed herself for what had happened, he
knew, and had not complained that he had driven them both so relentlessly
today.
It was fear that had driven him – fear and shame. He had been
tempted to be more than what God had made him. They’d had so much and still
wanted more. Then he had blamed the woman. It was hard enough to bear his own
punishment, but to see her suffering was even harder. They must both spend
their lives attempting to restore the happiness of the other.
And where now was God? God had made their beautiful home, with its shining
streams and dense forests and creatures of every kind. He’d made Adam to enjoy
it, and Eve to be his companion. God had seemed so close to them in the Garden
of Eden. Was He silently watching them now? Would they ever walk and talk
together, as before? There was a pain in his heart far worse than the
blistering pain in his aching feet.
Tomorrow, as Eve had said, they must look for land to farm.
Otherwise they would wander around until they were dead. This land of thorny
bushes and brackish pools was his to claim and till and hopefully produce
enough to exist on. He hoped that there would be other crops beside the bitter
berries. They must look for grains to plant.
Not only had the landscape changed, but so had the nature of all its
creatures. He’d noticed it all day as they
plodded through the alien territory, leaving a lone trail of footprints in
their wake.
In Paradise he’d been given the
task of naming all the animals. He’d call each by name and they’d willingly
come to him.
In Eden
he would cry “Horse”, and that majestic beast would prance to him at his call,
mane flying, and he would spring onto its bare back and gallop, his arms around
its neck.
“Eagle” he would call , and the great winged bird would spiral down
from its flight in the clouds, to alight on his outstretched arm.
Now when he moved towards a flock of birds they flew away quickly,
shrieking in terror. Mice and rabbits that would eat from his hands now
scrambled rapidly into the undergrowth. Why should they be afraid of him and
Eve? Strange annoying insects pricked their skin and buzzed around their eyes
and perspiring faces as they walked.
Worst of all, they’d stumbled into a clearing and discovered the
most hideous sight, one that made Eve moan softly before Adam placed his hand
firmly over her mouth and hurried her away. Tigress, that gentle, beautiful
great cat, was hunched over the torn body of one of their lambs, feasting upon
its carcass, her powerful jaws ripping into its carcass, her great striped head
smeared with blood. She fixed a stare of hostility upon them, and growled
menacingly. Never again would she walk beside him in the forest and swim with
them in the rippling pools.
As Adam sat alone in the cave, looking out at the stars, just the
memory of that moment was enough to make the fear rise in his throat again. He
must make them a shelter to live in, with a fence or a ditch to keep the
creatures away. They must always have a fire burning to protect them when they
were asleep.
They must make something to protect their feet from the sharp,
cutting stones. They must fashion some tools to dig into the hard earth, and
containers to hold carry water from the stream.
A sudden noise from outside the cave interrupted his thoughts. He
grasped the wooden stick that he carried. From now on he would always have to
carry a weapon to defend them both, much as his heart ached at the thought of
having to use it against any of the creatures that he had formerly loved and
trusted. All his senses were alert. Eve breathed softly beside him.
A small, dark shape formed itself in the moonlight at the entrance
to the cave.
“What is it?” Adam called hoarsely, raising the stick above his
head.
The shape came slowly towards him out of the darkness – two pointed ears,
a long, furry, wagging tail, a lolling tongue and two bright, affectionate,
trusting eyes. Adam lowered his club and without hesitation dropped to his
knees and held out his hand.
“Dog!” he cried. Without knowing it his arms
were around the dog and it was licking away the wet tears that rolled down Adam’s
cheeks. Adam stroked its head and patted its dusty, matted coat. The dog had
followed him from Paradise, tracking his
footsteps throughout the day. No doubt it was as footsore and tired and hungry as
Adam himself, and yet it had come after him.
The dog
stretched itself and lay down in the entrance to the cave, guarding it. Adam
too lay down beside Eve. As he closed his eyes in sleep, his lasting image was
of his dog, resting with its head still alert and one ear cocked.
There was much
to be done tomorrow, but he could sleep tonight, for he knew that God had not
abandoned him.
Copyright Josephine Collett 2012
