He was angry!
He was preternaturally, foaming-at-the-mouth, eyes-flashing-fire, ears-emitting-smoke, raised to the nth index, irked. He had no business being here. Trying to keep a bunch that was as wild, cruel and murderous as it was thick, disgruntled and increasingly doubting, in line, entertained, deceived and believing. He really would not be here, not in a thousand eons, if not for that battle. The cataclysmic, all-changing battle that lost him his position and cost him his employment. And created a new power bloc and order that he, he, was expected to submit to. To think that it was a specie that was not even qualified to cower at his feet that had been put in charge. Well, they would see about that.
The unbidden thoughts collided with an outburst of ribald laughter at a coarse joke at the expense of one small, impish and sickly looking ghoul-like creature at one corner of the room. How dare they? He was in a foul mood and they did not even have the decency to look sober. His anger snowballed to proportions that would have scared any of them shitless if they had been in any way privy to it. He lifted his hand. He wanted to hurl a bolt of lightning at the circle—fry some and erase some. Remind them in whose presence they stood. He smiled instead. And the raised hand became a gesture for quiet. He enlarged the smile. A proper look by one schooled in those matters would reveal that the smile was nothing more than a mask—it had neither depth nor warmth. He forced himself to make it convincing. These were his generals. They had been with him for a long, long time. They had fought with him and bled with him. They were the ones who survived the battle. Ever since then, they had been his to command. And they had served well, in more ways than one. It was time for an all-out offensive.
The man was tired, it had been another long day. The garden was such a large place; over a thousand trees, four rivers and thousand-thousand animals on land, air and water. Naming them had been a simpler task—the animals had filed past and he’d bequeathed them names as caught his fancy or based on the characteristics they exhibited—than caring for them. Funny how he now perceived his first task, at the time he had wondered how just one man could be expected to handle all that.
There was so much to do, and only so much time in a day. He plucked some ripe fruits from a couple of trees nearby, they should be enough to serve as lunch. While he munched, he deliberated what to do about the sick hippo, then there was the bitch that gave birth and promptly ate the pup… When his eyes flew open, he knew instinctively that he was not alone. He turned slowly and took in the most amazing, breath-taking sight ever known to man. She was everything he was not: curvaceous, softer features, long, flowing hair, a smile like the morning sun and not so…well…manly. “This is it!” he exclaimed. He knew he would never be alone again. He reached for her and spoke impassioned words that would be forever used by many of his ilk, in various forms.
“Now, this is someone whose bones came from my bones, whose body came from my body. I will call her woman.”
There was something going on here he did not understand. First it was the man, now he had been given a companion. Thought-lines made ridges on his forehead. Then he smiled. This could be to his advantage. He cast a sardonic glance upwards as the plan began to crystallize. He turned to the motley crowd of demons that never left his side except he specifically instructed otherwise and bestowed a beatific smile on them. They knew something was afoot.
The day the plan played out, the man was not too far away. He had left his wife to attend to some matters that had to do with running Eden. She was to holler if she needed him. Once the coast was clear, he swung into action. He had decided to do this himself. Some of his generals had wanted to carry out this assignment but he had refused, he imagined Bel for instance, trying to sway the woman. If she did not cooperate quickly, he would run roughshod over her. That would have brought her husband in—which was one thing he wanted to avoid. What most of his underlings had failed to grasp was that all the man required was to issue a command and they would be chained or worse, imprisoned, for a long time.
Taking the form of a serpent he approached her. He was not going to tell her anything new—just introduce another angle to what she was aware of. He smirked at the thought of using her knowledge against her. He could not wait to see how HE would react when the ones HE had made to replace him on earth lost their place. He was sure of one thing, as the ball was already in play HE would not interfere. He laughed. It came out as a hiss. The woman turned.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Nothing really, just curious. So God said you should eat none of the fruit in the garden?”
“Of course we may eat them,” she replied.
“It is only the fruit from the tree at the centre of the garden that we're not to eat. In fact we must not even touch it or we’ll die.”
“That’s a lie,” the serpent hissed.
“You will not die. HE knows that the moment you eat of it you will become like HIM; your eyes will be opened and you will be able to distinguish good from evil.”
She looked at the fruit. For the first time she saw how fresh, fleshy and ripe it looked. She bet it was delicious. There was something inviting about it. She reached out…
She was taking a second bite when leaves parted to reveal her husband.
“Darling, you need to try this.”
“Is that not the fruit we were warned not to eat?” He asked suspiciously.
“It is…”
“—What?!” He wanted this to be a dream.
“…You have no idea how divine it tastes.”
“But…”
“—But what? I’m supposed to be dead. Am I? You worry too much man. Besides this will make us wise”
The man did not know what to say.
“Here, try it.”
He still hesitated. He had been specifically enjoined to avoid that particular fruit—at the penalty of death. But if that was so, how come she was still alive? He followed suit.
The one thing he did not ask himself was what status they were going to acquire that they they did not already have and what wisdom would they gain access to, they did not already possess. Maybe it was the prospect of becoming like HIM—whom they already were like—that tilted the balance. Either way neither husband nor wife took the risk of death to heart. It equally did not cross the minds that that when people submit themselves to someone ( to do that one’s will), the one obeyed is master, and they servants.
The instant he swallowed, two things happened: the serpent snuck away, snickering at how easy it had been. He would like to see HIM reverse this one. The man and his wife had an epiphany. They were stark, birthday-suit, taking-a-shower naked.
The man realized then that it was a death of innocence, a consciousness to evil (where there had been blissful oblivion) and the start of a lifelong struggle between good and bad on the inside. He wept.
The extremely tall men with heads in the tree tops became visible. Their dazzling white robes and majestic bearing were intimidating enough without the fiery, blazing swords in their hands. The one on the left turned to other,
“What happens now, Michael?”
“We leave here to prepare and watch; there will be battles to fight. By eating the fruit, the man has taken his wife’s sin and place, making room for the saviour to come through her.”
Both of them looked at each other, HE was coming through the garden.
© 2016 John Chidi
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