Ruin

Adam and Eve contend with the idea, and reality of the curse.

The man held the serpent's head firmly in the grip of his left hand.  With his right hand he reigned down blows upon the monster's head. With a hissing and fluttering of its large wings the serpent writhed, snapping back at him. The two wrestled under the lush green of the fruited tree overhead.  The man slammed the creature to the ground, pressing it with all his might. The serpent thrashed as the man desperately attempted to hold it in place. The serpent coiled itself only to be unfurled by the man's well placed leg.  The serpent attempted to snap down on his arms but the man reached out, grabbing the serpent by its jaws. With its uncoiled body firmly held under his leg, the man pried open the creature's jaws. With a hard twist and a loud snap the serpentine body went limp.  The man collapsed, exhausted. The woman stood facing him with a stunned look upon her face.  She knelt down, drawing near to her husband.  Sweaty and exhausted he collapsed into her arms.  The world remained aglow, abruptly all at peace once more. In the distance but ever nearer the sound of a strong, gentle wind came towards them.

The man awoke with a start into the dull, gray world filled with long fields of dirt and grass. The muted colors could not compare with the world that had been.  He sat up from the moss bed with exhaustion in his movement.  Restful sleep had eluded him, as it had for some time.  Not since the world where he had been formed passed away had he known any rest.  The animal skin he wore was ragged, dirty from all his labors.  By its worn appearance alone, one could see he had little knowledge of how to clean or mend it. The woman wore a similarly  beaten skin. Clothing was still very new to the man and his wife. She had risen before him to set about cooking.  The wood he had gathered lay next to a rudimentary fire pit where his wife began building a fire. Slowly he began to rise to his feet. There was a bitterness to him, one the woman could not help but notice.  She caught a glance of him, then nervously turned to the fire.

“Morning,” the man said as he rolled out from under the small wooden shelter. “Making something I see,” he added as he set himself upright.

“Same dream?” the woman said, cutting the conversation short.  She placed some herbs on a platelike rock, before setting it in the middle of the fire pit.  She picked up a pair of sticks.  She rubbed them attempting to make fire as Adam rose to approach her.

“Yes. A dream of what should have been.  Haven’t had any others yet.  Not since our first night together.  The night in the garden.” the man said. His voice dropped, the woman’s body tensed by the fire.  She let out a sigh and looked to her feet.
“Can’t just let it go?” she asked in resignation.  Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to look away from his approaching figure.  He crouched next to her, his hot breath on her neck.
“How can I? What sense did any of that make?  The serpent, who God made?  Did he look like he ate of the tree? Was it working for him? You think there can be more than one most high?  You think God would make something like that?!  When God made boundaries, he made you and me!  It’s stupid to think that a damned lie could possibly be true, let alone a good idea! God’s boundaries are good woman. We had paradise and you ruined it!” the man yelled, aggression wracking his body.  He grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him.

“Where were you Adam?” the woman yelled to him as he turned her.  The anger in her voice matched the man’.  Letting her go he rose and turned to walk away.  She followed, pressing the issue. “You could have stopped it.  You were told to, to tell me what God said, to protect me and the garden and you just stood there!  And you knew better!”  Adam turned visibly indignant.

“Every step, out of the garden.  All of it was your fault,” he shouted to her.  He felt the anger which had lingered for weeks.  He was driven by it.  All of it was so new and so fresh to him that he could not hope to contain it.

“You think I didn’t feel that guilt too?”  the woman said pleading. 

Adam hung his head. Guilt, shame, not just for what had happened but what he had now done fell upon him.  With a heavy breath he raised his head to face the fiery mountain in the distance.  He stared at its fiery top.  The lush green on its sides seemed so far away.

“You remember the sound the angels made?” Adam asked.

“What? Yeah. Yeah I do,” the woman replied.  They both stood there in the silence.

“Or the sound of God walking in the garden, the first time.  When things were right?” Adam asked, sorrow saturating his voice. “I could have stopped it. I could have killed it.” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. The woman drew near to her husband.  She rested a hand upon his shoulder.

“I didn’t have to listen to it either Adam” she concluded. She rubbed her hand gently on his shoulder before resting her head upon him.

“We both failed, didn't we. Both of us did.  Fighting about it won’t get us back there.”

“No, I guess the good thing to come from this is God made a promise.  A seed, a child. Whatever that’s like, it’s hope.  Though the hope is in God isn’t it?” the woman said.  Their eyes met. They lingered and held their gaze.

“I’ve got a name for you,” Adam said with a soft smile.
“I have a name, it's woman” she said curiously.
“No, a proper one.  Eve.  The mother of all living,” Adam said.  With his arms he pulled Eve close. The two embraced, gentle tears wetting their faces.  They turned to face the mountain they had called home, off in the distance, thinking of their return to the world yet to come.