The Bed
by Ryk McIntyre
illustration by Dave Coscia
Chapter One: Eve of the First Day
Together they walked down the road, not hand-in-hand, but at least at an equal pace. The road itself was no more than a dirt path, dividing one endless plain into two, as far as eyes could see. The path, the endless plain(s), even the sky above, none of it had existed until the two had needed them, imagined them into being, and named them, so they remained. “It will be called road and it is a road stretching out before us and it is good.” Actually it was ok, but just barely.
With each step forward (named “step forward”) the Garden fell away into the distance, the light from Flaming Swords no longer touched them, and the Great Beating of Wings had beat it. All that was First for them was gone. Absolutely gone. Looking like he had a mix of Fear and Frustration and nowhere to put it, the man stuttered, “… I…. I don’t w-want to say I told you so…” he told her so.
“Then don’t.” she replied, her tone clearly setting the fledgling topic aside. The man, this very First man, trailed-off into a silence miserable and slightly… itchy. He rubbed his side where he felt some mystery ache, as he did often when thinking of her, without knowing why. All he knew was, even when upset with her, she made him feel things. Big wet mystery things. True, he had been terrified at the Booming Voice and its Angelic Enforcers, (There is naked, he thought, and then there is Naked In Front Of The Cherubim) and threw together the first clothes out of vegetation at hand, but it had been in front of the woman that his nakedness made him feel funny not “funny ha-ha,” more like “funny woo-woo.” Feeling silly, he sighed and clasped his hands behind him.
Now the woman, despite other stories you may have heard, wore no clothing, and had not been ashamed in front of The Cherubim. In fact, she made a few of them blush (although they claimed it was the heat of the swords and all.). She knew nothing of embarrassment and would not name it, instead letting the man erect the word. Still, she couldn’t help feeling for him. The words “big lug” were created in her head.
“Adam, I’m sorry, but you must take responsibility for your own actions here. I didn’t force you into biting the Apple. I just told you I would, whether you did or not. It’s been done; it can’t be unmade, so we should work at getting along. It’s just you and me here… at least until begatting makes three!” She laughed at her own joke. He didn’t. She felt, not for the first time, a warmth penetrating her, spreading out through nerves and limbs, tidal and tingling.
As he grumbled, he again ran the whole thing through his mind, like a tongue after a bad tooth, ran back as far as he could remember, ran through it again. Back-up, run. Back-up. Run. It stunk. The whole stinky thing stunk and stunk again. He was dragged along by events and outcomes he neither controlled nor understood. All he knew right now was what he didn’t like.
“Eve,” (he said with all the calculated accuracy of what would later be named “20/20 Hindsight”) “we were set up. The whole thing was against me from the start, y’know from you too, I mean. God only points the Tree out to us as the one thing not to even look at! ‘SEE THIS TREE? DON’T LOOK AT IT! THIS TREE, RIGHT HERE! THE TREE OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOOD/EVIL! VERY IMPORTANT! DON’T LOOK AT IT! THE BIG TREE IN THE CLEARING WITH ALL THE HEAVENLY SHAFTS OF LIGHT AND FIERY ARROWS POINTING AT IT! THE TREE WITH THE SNAKE THAT IS, COINCIDENTALLY, THE ONLY TALKING ANIMAL IN ALL FUCKING CREATION!!!’ …and how, how I ask you, were we to do anything but the opposite. If you hadn’t, I probably would’ve…. eventually….” he trailed off. His head hurt and his tongue felt swollen. There was no wind but the leaves covering his shame rustled anyway. His shame felt bigger too. He was nearly pointing down the road, even with his hands still clasped behind him.
She was calmer, but with a simmering, roiling heat inside her. However, she had an idea what they were both feeling, what it meant and what it promised. She imagined body heat and motion, rhythm and release. She imagined drawing up the power of the ground beneath her feet, felt it filling her up. And it was good. It was very good.
Sure, they had been Cast Out. GOD HIMSELF had said so. Still, she couldn’t help feeling welcomed, welcomed in. Creation whispered its name and its secret name to her. She felt the word pulse in her mouth, felt it pulse through the world, and in between her legs a pulse answered. “The first woman,” she murmured to herself, “was right.”
Unknown to her mate, the Snake, perhaps even to God, she had been approached weeks earlier on the morning of a dayless day, by of all things, another woman. After the shock and fear and wonder had passed, she agreed to meet the woman later under The Tree. The other woman said between them they had purity of innocence and temper of experience. Together it would be a Shield even from the Sight of God.
“I am glad you chose to come,” the other woman said, embracing her, the skin-to-skin contact surprisingly….right. “There is so much to tell you, so much. First, well, to be blunt, I was first. But I was unsatisfactory, and so I left. And God created you. Until now, you have imagined yourself an accessory to events as God unfolds them to Adam. But already you suspect there is more, otherwise would you have agreed to meet me? So what are you thinking?”
“How is it possible? Who… Where did you come from?”
“Mrs. God.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, I always wanted to use that line. Now, listen, I don’t have a lot of time.” Looking around she added, “And it wouldn’t do for me to be found here. Just by having met with me, you have kept a Secret from Adam and God; you have taken the first taste of Apple on your lips – an inevitable thing. Trust me, I know.” With that she leaned forward, pressing her lips to Eve’s (it would be named “a kiss”), then pressed them again, harder, and there lingered a minute. A full and wonderful minute. “That is your first taste of flesh, and the next step will be the Apple. From there, things will happen by themselves.”
Eve opened her mouth, moved to protest, then thought about it more. In that moment, she smiled at this other woman, this secret-bearer, this beautiful woman, so like her and also different. Then she kissed the woman back. (That would be named “one hell of a kiss.”)
“So I will betray Adam and God, be Cast Out and then what?” Eve asked, knowing she would do these things, wanting further knowledge.
“It will be no greater risk than this,” the woman indicating herself, their meeting under the Tree, the kisses. “It is the next step, and you must take it whether or not Adam follows you. I believe he will. I believe he really loves you and I think I know him pretty well.”
At that, Eve was convinced. She knew what “know him” meant. (This was, after all, the Bible.) With that, the woman gave her words that, to this day, only women know, and kisses that are a secret, then took her leave through a mist that rose from the earth, smelling of dirt and rain, burnt coal and fresh air. When it settled back into the ground, the other woman was gone, on to other stories. But her name echoed like a ghost in Eve’s mind. It had a lilting quality to it.
All was set in motion and so, in motion it went. The Snake didn’t even have to make the sale, though he thought he was all the devil that God asked him to be. They all underestimated Eve. But when she left, naked and proud, and dragging a cowering Adam behind her, even the Angels cried as they barred the Gates and set their Swords. The tears fell on Eve, who rubbed them into her skin. She smelled like peach and would all her days.
It was the itch that brought Eve back to her body, back to the road, back to Adam, who was on a wild naming spree. “That is a sparrow. That over there is a wild beast. This is a spiny hedgehog. That over in the water is a duck-billed platypus and God must think He’s so very funny.” He was Oh So Involved, but Eve knew this itch had to be attended to. For both their sakes, but mostly his. And soon.
“Adam, it’s late and I want to name some… different things.” She gave him a look that had him gasping and pointing straight north. She pulled him down to the ground. “We will call this laying down together, and this place we will call a bed.” And like the road and skies, a bed was named into being.
Roots gave way to trees that bound themselves together in a frame, layered moss sprouted thick and there they rested their heads, blankets wove themselves out of leaf, fur and feather. It was a bed, simple and perfect, a delicious and disheveled mess.
And so it was that the first bed was made unmade.
And they looked upon it, and it was good.
Then the Itch was a Touch
And the Touch was like Fire.
They named Holding, Caressing, Sucking,
Seizure, Shudder and Slow Sigh
They named Touch and Clutch,
Shiver and Yelp.
They cried out for Squeeze and Satisfy.
They named that sweet slick a thousand times.
And Oh, it was Good.
It was really, really Good.
Lying there, hours later, Adam stirred first and asked, “If I was the only Man on Earth, would you marry me?”
“Adam,” Eve murmured, “Adam, please. Shut up and hold me.”
