“What is it?” Adam said.
“What do you mean ‘What is it?’ What’s it look like?” Eve replied.
“I don’t mean the tree. I know what a tree looks like. What is it you want?”
“What I want is for you to explain to me,” Eve replied, “why all this awesome fruit should be off limits.”
“Why? How about because God Almighty, the creator of heaven and earth, said so.”
“For heaven’s sake, Adam,” she said. “Are you sure God didn’t make me from a piece of your brain instead of your rib? It’s just a tree.”
“Excuse me,” Adam said. “This is not just a tree. This is THE tree. Knowledge … good and evil … ring any bells?”
“And your point is?”
“My point is that when the creator of the universe … and of you and I by the way … tells you hands off, that means it’s hands freakin off.”
“Adam, look. This tree is covered with what is pretty obviously the best fruit in the whole garden. Now if we don’t eat it, who will? It’s all just going to go to waste.”
“Eve, did you pay any attention at all during the briefing?”
“As a matter of fact I did, Mister Smarty Pants. Tree of knowledge, don’t eat the fruit. Off limits. Blah blah blah…It’s a test, that’s all. He’s just trying to see whether we’re mindless sheep who do whatever we’re told to do, or independent, strong-willed humans who have the cojones to see a situation for what it is and take a little initiative once in a while.”
“So now you don’t believe him? What is it with you? Enough fruit trees and vegetables from one end of this garden to the other to feed a whole damned civilization, but you want to mess with the one he tells us to leave alone. Are you mental?”
The pair is standing adjacent to and looking up at what is, without question, the biggest, most bountiful fruit tree in all of Eden. It’s been a week since it showed up, seemingly from out of nowhere, at which time God himself had made an impromptu appearance to explain the situation to the pair who were, to this point, the only extant humans in the garden, or anywhere for that matter. At this early stage of things, Adam and Eve weren’t much into questioning the things that God had to say. They’d only even met the guy a couple times and when he did show up, he tended to be huge and magnificent and frankly pretty intimidating, which didn’t exactly foster an environment of give and take when it came to dialog. In this case, though, he’d been pretty succinct. This is a special tree—let’s just say, in the interest of clarity, that it’s my very favorite personal tree—and it’s not to be touched. Mess with this tree and it’s your ass. God, in their admittedly limited experience, didn’t resort to that sort of language too often, and it seemed like he was pretty serious. Maybe it would’ve helped if he’d offered some explanation for why the tree needed to be right there in the middle of their area of the garden—in what seemed like a pretty taunting sort of place to be honest—but God also wasn’t big on explanations. So far he was turning out to be kind of a ‘my way or the highway’ sort of deity. Which Adam was actually cool with. Eve, for whatever reason, not so much.
“C’mon, Adam. When are you gonna grow a pair and take charge of things,” Eve said, placing her hand on the trunk of the enormous tree. “You’re the first-ever man, for Heaven’s sake. Do you want to set a precedent for all other men in the future that you’re just going to cave and do whatever some big scary deity tells you to do?” She reached out her hand and placed it on the trunk of the tree, smiling in a way that was making Adam decidedly uncomfortable.
“You’ve been talking to that damned snake again, haven‘t you,” Adam replied.
“The snake, the snake, always with the snake,” Eve said in exasperation. “Just because once in a while I might want to have a little conversation with someone besides you. What am I supposed to do all day? You’re off naming animals or whatever and I should … what … just sit around and marvel at the splendor of the garden or something? Well, here’s a newsflash, Mister. No matter how unbelievable and awesome it is around here, after about the second day of nothing going on it gets a little boring.”
“So the snake is a … diversion,” Adam said uncertainly.
“Exactly,” Eve replied. “Nothing to get yourself all worked up over.” Her demeanor suddenly changed from exasperation to cloying pleasantry. “You do want me to have friends, don’t you?”
“I guess friends are okay,” Adam conceded reluctantly. “But ix-nay on the ee-tray, or we’re both going to be in big trouble.”
Eve made a faux pouty face, lowered her hand, and stepped away from the tree. Adam gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ve got to go have a look at a batch of new reptiles that just came in. See you tonight, okay?” He turned and walked away, mumbling and shaking his head.
“This is so not going to end well,” Peter said, stepping back from the viewer. He and Gabriel had been watching the situation in Eden unfolding for the past couple of days and were increasingly concerned that God had badly misjudged the new creature’s capacity for comprehension and obedience.
“So do we give him a heads-up now,” Gabe replied. “or wait until they actually eat from the tree? Because you know there’s no question they’re going to do it. I mean c’mon.”
“Either way he’s going to be pissed,” Peter said.
“Yeah,” Gabe agreed. “He is.”
“Pissed…” Peter mumbled to himself as he returned his gaze to the earth viewer. Eve was still standing next to the tree, looking up at it with a vapid expression.
“Only question is who ends up taking the fall for this,” Gabe said. “Well, it’s sure as hell not gonna be me. I said from the very first project meeting ‘no free will.’ It’ll just be one big pain in the ass, you watch. Didn’t I say that? In fact, I should go back and check my notes, but I’m pretty sure I even said ‘no humans.’ Earth is a perfectly nice place with plants and animals. Humans will just make a mess of things.”
“But no,” Peter said, turning away from the viewer again, “someone had to have a creature made in his own image.”
“So what do you think he’ll do?” Gabe asked, taking a turn at the viewer. “I give it a day. Two max. Are you seeing this? She just can’t leave it alone.”
“What’ll he do?” Peter said. “He’ll freak is what he’ll do. And maybe, if he’s smart, he’ll wake the hell up and just whack the two of them and be done with it.”
“You’re dreaming, you know,” Gabe replied. “Those are his babies down there. He’s going to freak, yeah. Only then he’ll get all indignant and defensive and insist on teaching them a lesson.”
“Which means throwing them the hell out of the garden.”
“To where exactly?” Gabe said. “It’s not like there’s anyplace else to send them. We haven’t even finished terraforming the rest of the planet. They’ll be standing in the middle of a desert.”
“And since we put all the food in the garden…” Peter said.
“They won’t just be standing in a desert, they’ll be trying to grow crops in a desert. Even better,” Gabe said. “Hell, it’d be more humane to just kill them outright.”
“But, Gabe,” Peter said, “you’re forgetting the best part.”
“Which best part?” Gabe replied.
“Well, if he decides—when he decides—to throw them out, someone’s gonna have to go down there and do the deed. I mean he’s sure as hell not going. If he does, then it looks like he misjudged creation and the whole debacle is somehow his fault.”
The implications of Peter’s observation took a moment to sink into Gabriel’s reluctant head.
“Now hold on a sec—” Gabe said with sudden alarm.
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted ‘Messenger of God’ on his resume, not me, brother.”
“There is no freakin way,” Gabe retorted, knowing in his heart that Peter was right.
“There is every freakin way, my friend,” Peter said. “You get to do the dirty work. May as well start sharpening your sword right now.”
“Sword? What do I need a sword for?” he said.
“Well, if you’re going to toss God’s most beloved creatures out of the garden, you’re going to have to come across as all vengeful and terrifying. I mean, it’s not like you can just waltz down and say ‘Sorry, folks, but I’m afraid we’ve decided not to renew your lease.’ They’ve got to know that they seriously messed up. Otherwise what’s the point?”
Both men were now staring hard into the viewer, anxious to see what Eve’s next move would be.
She was now lying back on the soft cool grass at the foot of the tree of knowledge, gazing up at the sunlight that seemed to sparkle off the surface of the fruit. It really was remarkable how much better this fruit looked than the rest of what was available in the garden. From behind her on the grass, there came a subtle hissing sound.
“Pretty amazing looking, aren’t they?” the snake said, sliding up to a spot on the grass next to Eve’s elbow. “I don’t think they could be any more perfectly ripe.”
“Oh hey,” she said, smiling down at the snake. “Yeah, they look pretty awesome.”
“You give one a try yet? Pity to see all that go to waste.”
“No not yet. Adam says it’ll just get us in trouble with you-know-who.”
“Sheesh,” the snake said derisively. “Let me tell you something about God. I used to work for the guy, all right? First, he’s kind of got this power trip thing going on. Do this. Don’t do that. Second, he’s big on the whole test thing. He wants to see if you’ve got what it takes to push back.”
“Exactly!” Eve said. “That’s exactly what I was just telling Adam. But he’s Mister Doom and Gloom about us upsetting the boss.”
“Look, I totally understand,” the snake said. “You’ve got this whole domestic tranquility thing going on. Don’t rock the boat and all that. But Adam’s a busy guy, right? He’s trying to keep the garden organized and all that. He doesn’t have time to really think through this thing objectively. But, trust me on this, God doesn’t want sheep here. He’s looking for initiative, only he can’t just come out and say that, so he’s got to arrange these little tests.”
“Yeah,” Eve said, “but Adam’s just not buying it. He’s a pretty conservative guy.”
“Maybe you just need to try a different tack. See, right now you’re just speculating about the fruit being excellent and all. Even though you can see that it looks great, you aren’t in a position to tell Adam how good it really is until you have some first-hand experience. But if you give it a try, then you can show him. And if it turns out that it sucks—unlikely, but you never know, right?—then you just don’t say anything and no one’s the wiser. But if it’s as awesome as it looks, then you’ve shown that you know what it is to take charge of a situation. Plus, you have better evidence—first-hand evidence—to help convince Adam. Besides which, once you’ve given it a try, what’s he got to lose by trying it too. I mean, by then you’re already committed.”
Eve pondered the snake’s arguments as she continued to gaze up at the tree.
“I don’t know,” she said. “He seemed pretty sure about God getting angry. I mean, he’s the only man on earth and I don’t want to get him too upset. It’s not like I have a lot of alternatives here.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” the snake asked. “After all, he’s supposed to be this loving, forgiving god, right? If you try the fruit and he really does get annoyed, you just apologize and he lets bygones by bygones. He’s really pretty easy going, once you get on his good side.”
“Fucking snake,” Gabe said staring hard into the viewer. He pressed his palm hard against the side of his head and made a groaning noise.
“What’d I tell you?” Peter said. “Pack your bags, man. She’s a goner.”
“Afternoon, boys,” came the sudden booming voice from behind. Both Gabe and Peter jumped visibly at God’s sudden unexpected greeting. He was frightfully good at sneaking up on people. “How’s our little science experiment going down there?” he said with a broad smile.
“Uh…good…good, sir,” Gabe said uncertainly, briefly glancing at Peter. “Everything’s on track, sir. Just keeping an eye on our subjects. You know, make sure they’re sticking with the plan.”
Excellent, boys. Excellent,” God said enthusiastically. “You’ll let me know if any problems come up, right?”
“Oh, absolutely, sir. Absolutely,” Gabe said, mustering a wan smile.
“Good to hear,” God said turning to leave. “You’re doing a heck of a job, boys. Heck of a job.”
“Thank you, sir. Thank you very much.” God walked away, and Peter extended a hand and whacked Gabriel on his arm.
“On track? On TRACK?!” What the hell are you talking about, man. Now he thinks everything is hunky-freakin-dory. So he’s going to be even more mental when Eve goes over to the dark side, which, by the way,” he said, taking a quick look into the viewer, “ought to be any second now.”
The snake had crept across the grass and slid his way up the tree, hanging now from a lower branch immediately adjacent a particularly vibrant cluster of brilliant red fruit. Eve had a hand outstretched and was brushing a fingertip across first one plump fruit, then another.
“The red ones are for sure the best,” the snake said. “Sweetest thing ever.”
Eve gripped the fattest one and with a snap of her wrist, detached it from the branch.
“Feels excellent, right?” the snake said with a broad smile. “You’re taking charge of your life, and you’re doing Adam a huge favor at the same time. He’s a busy guy. You’re offloading some of his burden by taking on this decision yourself. You wait and see. He’ll thank you for it.”
Eve moved the fruit slowly under her nose, taking in the sweet aroma. The snake really was making a great deal of sense. Adam was pretty busy these days. He didn’t need to be worrying about little stuff like this. It’s only a piece of fruit, for heaven’s sake.
“Oh boy, here we go. Here we GO!” Gabriel shouted, unable to control his emotions, watching Eve caress the luscious piece of fruit. “I gotta go down there,” he said suddenly, a note of panic in his voice. “I’ve gotta stop her.”
“Calm down, man,” Peter said, placing a firm hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Free will, remember? You go down there and even if you stop her, we’re no better off than we’re gonna be when she bites the damned thing. It’s just a matter of time until she does it again. If she won’t listen to the boss, you really think she’s gonna listen to you?”
And at that moment, just as Gabriel turned away in disgust from the viewer there came the unmistakable sound of teeth biting into a firm, succulent piece of fruit. Gabe couldn’t even bring himself to turn back and look. He didn’t need to. He drew a heavy sigh and looked at Peter.
“Tell you what, my friend,” he said. “If I’ve got to go down there and deal with this shit, you’re sure as hell gonna go and deliver the bad news to the boss.”
“Fair enough,” said Peter without enthusiasm. “It’s the least I can do. Just don’t forget to pack your sword,” he said, turning to catch up with God.