THE GARDEN

The moon was a big, pale face in the clear, starless sky. Dry grass crunched beneath his sandals as Adam strolled through the garden. The nightmare had chased him from his sleep; he could still hear the hounds from hell nipping at his feet, their foul breath just behind his neck. His heart still beat unsteadily, his hands were shaking, little tremors up and down his forearms now and again, as if in memory of the blood he had been elbow-deep in his dream. The quiet night calmed him, and he used his footsteps to steady his breath, counting them at the same steady beat as his heart. He tried to stop it from plummeting into his stomach every few seconds.

He had taken this path a hundred times before, through the dense grove of white birch trees, the short lemon trees caressing his ankles, to the sloping orchard framed by red and purple willows, now just hairy silhouettes in the night, right to the centre of the earth where the tree stood. He had never named this one; he only named it the tree. No word he could think of could cover its magnificence. It was the only one of its kind. Standing over two hundred feet long, its massive trunk, the bark like a wrinkled old woman’s skin, was home to hundreds of different little animals. The gigantic branches spread out in supplication of earth, wind, and sky. Even if he stood on his tippy toes, he could never reach the lowest branch. The other trees spread out from around it: maple, ash, oak, and sycamore in vibrant mixtures. Little rivers and streams that swelled when it rained covered the forest floor intermittently. This was his home, his life.

The tree did not calm him as it once did; he looked at it, trying to find a glimmer of something—the words of a forgotten prayer, peace, or hope. Maybe even a denial of what has been haunting his dreams for over a month. All he found was the growing chasm of emptiness that had been there for what felt like an eternity. He was floating in a vacuum of misery, tossed either way by forces he couldn’t understand. He craved it; he longed to go back home. This was home as he had always known it; there was that tree on his left he had rammed into the first time he tried flying a Pellian, and the bark was still cracked. That calm mirror, where the moon was reflected, was where he first met and named the lake. He loved to jump in on hot days and play with them. Down that path is where he would take Eve when she was mad at him, because the paths were lined with moon flowers, and they made her sneeze and laugh. This was home and yet it wasn’t. Something was missing. He fell down, grief overwhelming him, hands on the protruding roots, and cried himself to sleep.

Eve, who had offered him a fruit.

Eve woke up to an empty bed again. She sighed and looked around at the empty room. The fire was crackling merrily, a sign that he was not so far gone this time. She sat up on the bed, the soft quilt sliding down her bare torso.

“Adam,” she called softly. Nothing. The cabin beyond was quiet.

She got out of bed, worry drawing her brows together. She grabbed her robe from the closet and put it on, tying it at the waist.

“Adam, are you home?”

Her voice echoed on the empty walls, settling on the sparse furniture Adam had made like dust. She woke out of her room, naked feet on the warm floor. She peeked into the two extra bedrooms: the study, which doubled as the library, and the wooden, rustic shelves stacked with books. The living area, large and inviting, was her last stop. Here she found him on the couch, head resting on the armrest, legs crossed on the opposite armrest. He stared at the sunrise through the glass walls, his brows furrowed in anguish. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, she noted. It broke her heart to see him like this—so anguished. She had tried everything to ease his burden, but Adam wouldn’t talk to her. She had no idea what was going on, and she was getting tired of his brooding science.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Adam…Are you ok?” He glanced over at her, saying nothing.

“When are you ever going to talk to me? I am trying, Adam. Look at me; I am really, really trying.”

She walked towards him, standing in his line of sight. He had lost a couple of pounds. His ribs were starting to show and he was overdue a shave. He said nothing, still. Lost in whatever hell he was stuck in.

“I am going to go for a swim, join me?” she asked, hesitantly.

He shook his head no, stood up and left the room.

Eve’s face fell; a thousand sharp shards pierced her heart. For this? This inhumane silence? She sacrificed everything for this. Ruined the garden, just for her husband to turn into this stranger, this husk of a human

She walked out of the cabin, the sun bathing her in light and illuminating the tears streaming down her face. Her angry footsteps led her straight to the centre, to the tree. Even Adam, blessed as he was with names, could not name.  She stared at it angrily. stared at her.

Lilith glided down the tree, her black hair flowing on a phantom wind. she was taller, taller than Adam by a few inches, her form lithe and strong. She had big brown eyes, with thick eyelashes, her petite nose and full lips fit her face perfectly. She landed daintily in front of Eve, smiling her maniac smile.

“Eveey darling, long time no see!”  her voice was high pitched, so at odds with her sultry figure, it always took Eve by surprise.

“Lilith, why are you still here? Haven’t you done enough?” With a worried glance behind her, Eve grabbed her and pushed her around the tree.

Lilith faded from her grasp like smoke, then reappeared behind her, flicking her hair.

“rellaaxx, Evee, your precious husband can’t see me, we have already established that, what brings  you to my office?”

Eve flipped around to face her, her eyes baulking.

“ You promised me, that if I ate of the fruit, we would be happy. You said, we would be free. So why,why are we stuck in this prison? Why is my husband fading away right before my eyes?”

“ you are free”

“ no I am not !”

“Evey, you came to me; I did not seek you out; you came to me tired of the garden, suffocating; you said you wanted out. Why would HE create a universe but stick you in a corner of it? You wanted to know about life. Why does the tree grow? Why this tree? Why do fish swim? Why is Adam Adam?. I answered your questions. I helped you; don’t you know now? Don’t you have the answers now? Sweet Evey?”

Eve looked at her shocked, a sinking unpleasant feeling spreading through her limbs. Her heart thumped in her chest, she felt light headed. The morning breeze was suddenly too sharp, too cold.

“I did not ask for this! I could not have asked for this and you know it!” she hissed.

“ you asked for freedom” Lilith laughed.

“I ASKED FOR LIFE!” Eve screamed, falling to her knees and crying into her hands

“This, Eve, darling, is life. This emptiness, this need for something more, something grand,. This walking around thinking you serve a bigger purpose, that there is more to you than just flesh and blood and air on bones. You are nothing but dust, Eve,” Lilith growled. “This is life; life is toil and sadness. Life is a heavy cloud surrounding your heart; darkness always follows you around, making it hard to breathe because you are darkness.”

Eve simpered, hugging herself. A thousand shards cut into her skin. The tree swayed and moaned with her beating heart. She hugged herself tighter, trying to shut out Lilith’s words. They hissed at her, biting her, tempting her. She wanted to scream, but she choked on her voice. Her guilt was like a thick, wet blanket smothering her, covering her head to toe. She had messed up. She had killed the garden; in her quest to know more, she had ruined her home and ruined her husband.

The wind picked up, shaking the trees. All she could see was Lilith. Lilith. The only one who answered her questions in the garden. Lilith walking with her, teaching her about all the animals Adam named and the crawlies that he did not like, so Lilith named them. Lilith, who taught her how to speak with the snakes and who, after a lot of begging, offered her the fruit from the tree. She only wanted to know; she wanted to do more than exist and serve.She offered the fruit to Adam. Now they were doomed, and it was her fault.

She was sorry. She was very sorry; if only she could go back.

The earth shook, and a magnificent light filled the garden. And a voice boomed from above.

“Eve, my child..”