7 Days Until Launch!
I
Paradise
"And God said, 'Let there be Light.' And there was Light."
(Genesis 1:3)
"By the labor of your hands you shall eat.
You shall be happy and prosper;
Your wife like a fruitful vine
In the heart of your house
Your children like shoots of the olive
Around your table"
(Psalm 128: 2-3)
Aleph
"Wake up, Cain."
"Memmi."
"Come on, wake up."
Cain grudgingly opened his eyes, and found a bright-eyed, innocent boyish face looking down at him. The fourteen-year-old boy it belonged to smiled as he saw his older brother stir.
"Oh, what is it, Abel?"
"Mother said I have to get you and Naomi up. It's time for breakfast."
Cain sat up and looked toward the mouth of the cave. Sure enough, the sun was out, and the sky was blue instead of black.
Cain grunted. "Why did you have to get me up first?"
Abel smiled, "You're closer, silly."
Cain spotted his sister, fast asleep against the back of the cave, and rolled his eyes. He was about to get up when he saw something crawling near his bed. Carefully, he picked it up.
It was a spider. Not a very big spider- it wasn't any bigger than his fingertip- or, by the look of it, a dangerous one. Cain looked back at his sister, a sly little grin stretching across his face.
"Hey Abel," he whispered. "Why don't you let me wake up Naomi?"
He showed him the spider. Abel gasped and covered his mouth, trying to suppress a mischievous laugh.
"Shhhh," said Cain.
Slowly, the two boys crept over to where their sister lay.
Holding the spider in his fingers over her head, Cain gently touched her arm.
"Naomi," he whispered. "Naomi, wake up."
"Hmm," said Naomi, giving a sweet little murmur before opening her deep brown eyes.
Cain dropped the spider right on her nose.
Naomi shrieked, and pushed back towards the wall. The spider fell to the ground and scampered away.
Cain and Abel fell on the ground, laughing like hyenas.
"You…" fumed Naomi, "You… You’re awful! Just awful! Both of you!"
The boys laughed even harder.
"Your face looked so funny," chuckled Abel.
"Mother!" shouted Naomi.
A rough "Ahem!" came from the mouth of the cave. Cain and Abel got up and stood at attention. Sure enough, their mother was there, like a stone pillar, her green eyes staring at them like those of a deadly hawk. The boys gulped.
"What is going on here?"
"They dropped a spider on my face!" shouted Naomi.
"I see," said Eve, her voice dripping with anger. She turned to the boys, "And whose idea was this?"
"His," said Cain and Abel, pointing at each other, each trying to look innocent.
It didn't work.
"That's it," said Eve, grabbing and twisting their ears. Both boys cried out in pain as their mother pushed them out of the cave. Even as big as they had gotten, Eve still had no difficulty disciplining them.
"Now get out of here and go help your father," said Eve. "Any more nonsense and you'll get no breakfast! Understand?"
"Yes, Mother," they squealed, scampering away.
Eve sighed, turning back to her daughter.
"Are you all right, Naomi?"
"Fine," she huffed, getting up and brushing herself off.
"It wouldn't have hurt you," said Eve, speaking softer now. "Your brothers are not that mean."
"Hmph," said Naomi. "Boys. Why did Elohim even make them?"
Eve smiled. "To make us laugh, dear."
"I'm not laughing," pouted Naomi.
Eve laughed.
* * *
Eve and Naomi made their way to the fire pit at the base of the hill. Adam was there, along with the two boys, still smarting from their mother's discipline. Naomi sat down with her brothers around the pit, who grinned at the sight of her. Naomi huffed, and looked away.
"Good," said Adam. "Now that we are all here, we can start."
Adam bowed his head, and Eve and the children did likewise.
Then Adam said, "Father Elohim, who made us and provides us all we need, we thank you for this food you have given us. May it make us strong and cheer our hearts."
He paused, and then said, "May it be."
The others answered, "May it be."
Adam handed the children each a little clay cup of water, while Eve set out the food. It wasn't much: just bread and some vegetables from Eve's garden.
"Aw," said Cain, "I wanted some meat."
"Then you shouldn't have eaten all of it last night," said Eve. "Honestly, you and your brother eat like mastodons. It's a wonder we haven't run out of food."
"But Mother," said Cain. "You always say that we're growing boys, and we need to eat."
"That's right," said Eve. "So eat your greens and stop complaining."
Adam laughed and said, “Don't worry, son. I'll take you and Abel hunting later after your chores are done."
Cain's face lit up, “Can we bring home a boar, Father? A big one?"
"We could," said Adam, with a smile, "But what are the rest of us going to eat?"
Cain laughed, and Eve sighed.
"Don't encourage him," she muttered.
Eve looked over at Abel and saw that his favorite lamb had crawled up when they weren't looking, and Abel was hand-feeding it.
"Abel!" said Eve, "I've told you before: no animals at meal-time."
"But Lamby's hungry too," he said.
"Lamby can eat grass," said Eve. "You can't."
"Careful, Abel," said Cain, smirking, "Or we might be having some meat for breakfast after all."
A dark look passed over Abel’s face as he put his arm around his pet.
“He’s mine,” said Abel, in a quiet but unmistakably fierce voice. “You can’t have him.”
Adam laughed.
"Now don’t worry, Abel," he said. "Cain's just playing. Aren't you, Cain?"
He turned toward his eldest son with a look that dared contradiction.
"Umm, sure," said Cain, laughing nervously. "Just playing."
Reassured, Abel let his pet go free.
Still wishing for the taste of roasted flesh, Cain turned back to his bread.
* * *
The sun had not risen much higher in the sky when Adam and Cain went out into the grain field. It was almost harvest time, but that only meant more work for the next few days. The rain had been scarce lately; to make matters worse, the well closest to the field had dried up two days before. So, Adam and Cain had to carry skins of water from the nearby river all the way back to the crops. It wasn't hard work, but Adam could see the repetition was starting to wear on Cain.
"Come on, son," he said. "Not much more."
"I wish Elohim would send water," said Cain.
"Oh, He could," said Adam, emptying his skin on the crops. "He's just letting us help out."
Cain emptied his own skin and sat down.
"Sometimes," he said, "I wish he'd let us help a little less."
Adam smiled. "Well, if you're tired of bringing water, why don't you check for weeds? I'll finish this patch."
"Yes Father," said Cain as he got up. "But don't water my patch, all right? It's mine, and I don't want any help from you this time."
"Of course, son. I remember. I'll be back."
Adam started back down towards the river. As he did, he looked back at Cain, who was crawling on the ground looking for weeds.
Cain: His son.
The thought was so strange and wonderful, even more so than when he had first understood it.
As Adam walked down to the river, he found himself thinking about the first time he had seen it. He was young then, very young. Elohim had just brought him out of the dirt, or so it had seemed. He remembered how vast and majestic everything had been: the blue sky, the running water, the sound of the wind in the grass, the majesty of the hilltops; And the mountains. Oh, the mountains!
“It's all yours.” Elohim had said.
And Adam had run through it, played in it, and explored every inch of it he laid his eyes upon. For many, many years he had wandered the wide world, finding new things every day and giving them names. Some of those names had been quite silly, but Elohim didn't mind.
And then, just when Adam had thought he had seen nearly everything, Elohim made something new. He made someone new.
Adam remembered how his eyes had shut, a deep dreaming overtaking him. And then, when he opened his eyes…
He saw her: his Eve; the delight of his eyes and the beat of his heart.
He remembered standing before her, too stunned to speak.
She had stared at him the same way. Then she smiled at him.
They danced and shouted and sang for… how long? It had seemed like days, maybe weeks. For he was no longer alone.
He, Adam, Master of the World, had someone to share it with.
And now, Adam thought as he approached the river, We have more.
It had been right here, he remembered, after he and Eve had come here.
After Eden.
Adam shuddered and tried to put the memory out of his mind.
There's no helping it now, he thought, and though it took a moment to regain his composure, he brought his thoughts back to happier times.
Adam stepped into the river. Yes, he thought, This was where Eve started to feel different, strange.
It was here, all those years ago, that Eve had started to get sick, and eat more, and feel as though her entire body was changing. It was here that her belly started to grow for the first time.
Adam had been in a complete panic, afraid that she was dying. And then, Gabriel, his dear old friend, had come, and told them the good news.
Someone was coming out of Eve, just like Eve had come out of him.
For nine months Gabriel was with them, telling them what would happen and what to expect when the new person came out. Even so, Adam had been completely unprepared when the time came. The fact that Eve had been screaming and yelling at him the whole time didn't help.
Elohim wasn't kidding about the pain, thought Adam, but all that was forgotten when they heard the first cry of their new baby boy.
Adam stepped into the river and bent down to collect water in his skin.
Yes, he thought, It was right here.
It was in this very river that Adam had washed his newborn son. It was here that he had cried out and laughed and thanked Elohim with all his heart for that tiny, fussy, adorable little version of himself. It was here that, in the presence of the angels, he had consecrated his child to Elohim as an act of thanksgiving.
Adam gathered up the water and turned back towards the grain field. He caught sight of his son as he approached.
Sixteen years, thought Adam. Sixteen years, and look how he's grown! The once tiny, hairless creature had grown nearly as tall and strong as his father, with a full mane of dark red hair on his head.
In such a short time Cain had gone from being unable to talk to speaking like an angel, from being unable to walk to nearly outrunning his father, from crying for his food to hunting his own game, from making only messes to making half the tools and dishes they had. And now he was growing his own field, and it looked as though it would be the healthiest and most abundant portion of the harvest.
Eve still called him "Little Adam" sometimes, but Adam had stopped long ago. The boy wasn't little anymore. And he wasn't Adam.
Cain, thought Adam, smiling at his boy, My son.
Slowly Adam realized that Cain had stopped working and was calling out to him. “Are you alright, Father?"
"Hmm?" said Adam, shaking his head and smiling. "Oh yes, sorry. I'm fine."
Adam walked over to one of the few remaining dry patches and dumped out his load of water.
"All done?"
"Yes," said Cain. "No weeds, and almost everything's been watered, except my part."
"Can you finish by yourself, son?"
"Yes," nodded Cain.
"All right then," said Adam, handing Cain his water skin. "I'll go check on your brother."
* * *
Adam made his way over to the pasture. As he walked along the river, his thoughts turned to his other son.
Abel had seemed to be just like his brother when he was born, except he didn't cry as much. As both boys grew older, however, it was clear that they couldn't be more different. Cain could build all kinds of things, from tools to pots to sturdy fences. Abel had tried to build a fence once.
Tried.
The “fence” resembled a thorn bush and fell to pieces as soon as Adam touched it.
Cain was good at farming and planting and growing crops; Abel had been given a plant of his own to take care of when he was younger. First he kept forgetting to water it. Then when it started wilting he drowned it with water until the topsoil had eroded away, taking the plant with it.
For a while Adam had wondered if there was something wrong with him, though he never said this aloud. After all, how else to account for the fact that all he seemed to want to do was sit around all day, playing with the dogs or the sheep, or staring at the sky, or playing around with mud and small rocks?
Then, when Able was nine years old, Adam discovered another side of his son.
Abel had taken to rising before dawn back then. He would get up quietly, disappear for a few hours, and then come back, never letting on where he had been or what he had been doing. One day, Adam had followed him to a small cliff on one of the nearby hills.
What he saw took his breath away: Abel was painting a sunrise on the cliff wall.
It was so beautiful that Adam couldn't help but run over and embrace his son, nearly crushing him in an overzealous hug, before shouting for the rest of the family to join them.
Eve and Naomi voiced their amazement, exclaiming at the smallest details. Abel, quite surprised and embarrassed, protested, "It’s not done!"
Cain, however, stayed silent, staring at the painting for some time. Finally, he turned to a bewildered Abel, put his hand on his brother's shoulder, and, with the biggest smile on his face, said, "I can't do that."
Abel wasn't so fussy after that.
While his paintings were beautiful, Abel still had to share in the family’s work. So, Adam had charged Abel with looking out for the animals, especially the sheep. It had worked out well, and had, mercifully, kept Abel away from anything resembling a tool.
Adam had expected to find Abel in his usual spot: sitting under the big oak tree in the middle of the field, with his staff in one hand and Lamby under his arm.
Abel was under the tree. And Lamby was next to his master.
However, Abel was not sitting but standing on his head.
"Oh! Hello, Father." He rolled down and stood upright.
"Whatever are you doing, boy?" asked Adam.
"I wanted to see an angel," said Abel.
"By standing on your head?" asked Adam.
"Well," said Abel with a sheepish smile, "You told me once that angels can walk on air, so I thought I could see one if I put my feet up towards the sky."
Adam blinked, then shook his head, “You…are strange."
Abel tilted his head, then laughed, “If you say so, Father."
"So," said Adam, "Did it work? Did you see an angel?"
"Well, no," said Abel. "But maybe they're just shy today. I'll try again later."
"And what would you do if you saw one?" asked Adam.
"Hmm," said Abel, "I didn't think of that."
Abel thought for a moment, then said, "I think I'd ask him a question."
"What question?" asked Adam.
"Don't know," said Abel. "I haven't decided yet."
Adam laughed, "You know, Abel, I can always answer your questions. I always have."
"Not all of them," said Abel.
"Well, no," said Adam. "But I can answer whatever question you can think up of now. Go ahead; ask me about the first thing you can think of."
"Hmmm," said Abel. He looked up at the sky, trying to think of something.
Finally, he said, "Why is the sky blue?"
Adam was about to speak, but paused for a moment, then threw up his hands in defeat.
"Why can't you ask simple questions like your brother?"
"Ha! I knew it."
Adam sighed, "Well, I'm no angel."
"It’s fine," laughed Abel.
"Why don't you tell me if you see one? I haven't seen an angel in a long time."
"Sure. I guess I'll have to, since you know what they look like and I don't."
Adam raised an eyebrow, "Then how would you know if you saw one?"
Abel shrugged.
Adam laughed. "Did you get the milking done yet?"
"Oh!" said Abel. "I'm sorry. I forgot all about it."
"Well then," said Adam, "Let's get your chores done now, and worry about angels later."
"Yes!" said Abel, leaping from his spot.
"Abel."
"Huh?" said Abel, stopping in his tracks.
"The sheep."
"Oh!" said Abel, slapping his palm against his forehead. He turned towards the sheep and gave a loud whistle.
"Fluffy! Wooly!" he called out, calling out each of the names he had given to them. They all came to him, bleating as they went. Last of all came "Baa-Baa" and "Thud," whom Abel had just named yesterday.
And I thought my names were silly, thought Adam.
* * *
Eve had planted her garden because she missed Eden. Even though it had flourished over the years, the garden couldn’t match the original. Still, there were some days when she sat alone among the beautiful trees and flowers, and felt she had never left that wonderful place of her youth.
This was not one of those days.
Unlike in Eden, the plants in Eve's garden died. Whether it was insects, stray sheep or cattle, or, in the present case, lack of water, the beauty Eve had worked so hard to cultivate was broken and marred, leaving her to try and repair it, before winter came and took it all away.
Eve sighed.
All this trouble for a few memories, she thought, At least some of these are good for eating.
"I think this one's good, Mother," said Naomi. They had just finished clearing out the dead branches from a flowering tree. Already the leaves had begun to change colors.
"I'll make sure," said Eve. "You can move on to the next one, dear."
"Yes Mother," said Naomi, skipping as she moved to the next tree.
Eve gazed back at her daughter and sighed.
Thank you, Elohim, she thought, that there are flowers that do not wither.
Eve remembered the planting of that garden, the flowerbed of her family. The pleasure of sowing the seeds of these new lives, the pain of reaping the fruit of her womb, and the joy of seeing them squirm in her arms, covering their eyes from the first sight of daylight.
She remembered Adam's reaction too, upon seeing little Cain for the first time: “Shouldn’t he be bigger?"
That was the first time that Eve had slapped him.
Her husband had a different reaction upon Naomi's birth, “Something’s missing."
Eve had been so amazed that she did not think to hit him for that. Of course, they had been sure that, if little Adams could be made, little Eves would come about too. After all, as Elohim had said, "It is not good for man to be alone."
How this would happen, though, had been a mystery. Eve had supposed that, someday, when the boys were older, they would fall asleep and a woman would spring out of their sides, just as she had out of Adam's side. But no, Naomi had come out of her, just as her brothers had.
"Mother," called Naomi, interrupting Eve's thoughts, "There's something on this one. Come and see!"
Eve walked over to the tree Naomi was standing by.
"Look!" said Naomi, pointing to a tiny green sac hanging from one of the branches.
"Oh!" said Eve. "A cocoon! We'll have at least one butterfly before winter."
Naomi's eyes were full of excitement. "I've never seen one come out of its cocoon before! When will it happen?"
Eve laughed, "Well, there's no telling. It is like with all living things; each growth and change comes in its own time, and not a moment sooner."
"Yes," said Naomi. She kept eyeing the cocoon, as if she was still hoping to see a butterfly break out of it at any moment.
Eve regarded her daughter once more. It was as though she was looking into a pond and seeing a reflection of herself. For she was certain that that same look of wonder was on her face when Adam had first told her about butterflies, the same look that Naomi had now.
Is this how you saw me, Adam? She thought, Did you wonder at my wonder, too?
And yet "little Eve" was not like Eve, not exactly. For Eve had emerged fully formed in the fullness of her womanhood. Naomi, after thirteen years of life, had not reached hers yet, and there was no telling what she would look like or be like when she did.
That was Naomi. That was "little Eve," familiar and yet a mystery, like a flower about to bloom.
A strange, soft humming sound distracted Eve from her musings. After a moment, she realized that Naomi was humming a tune, one that Eve had not heard before.
"Why Naomi," said Eve. "Do you have a new song?"
Naomi stopped humming and looked up at her mother.
"I think so," said Naomi. "Or at least, the start of one."
"If I finish your chores for you, could you have it ready by supper?"
Naomi's face lit up.
"Yes!" she said. "Yes, I could!"
"Wonderful!" said Eve. "Run along and work on it, dear."
Before Naomi could start off, Eve added, "And check up on how Cain and your Father are doing while you're out."
Naomi stopped.
"Aww Mother," she moaned. "Do I have to?"
"You're still upset about this morning?"
Naomi nodded, her face scrunched in a frown.
Eve sighed, “Naomi, you can't stay angry with him forever."
"Why not?" pouted Naomi.
"Because you have to live with him," said Eve. "And unless you forgive him you'll never be happy. Now go on."
Naomi sighed, her frown softening, “Yes, Mother."
She ran off to the grain field, humming her new tune as she went.
Tune in tomorrow for Part 2!