The Fall

God rose. Mostly for the effect, he preferred to take on a form much larger than logically possible. This did nothing to cow his son, who looked up at him with a steady gaze. God sighed.

“How simple did I make this for you? Create mankind, feed them the fruit and send them on their way. But suddenly its ‘Father, Adam wants to name the animals’, ‘Father, Adam wants to name the plants’, ‘Father, shouldn’t Ibe the one to join Adam and Eve in marriage’,” He scowled as he went on. “And then the fruit is gone. Buried in the ground. You’re lucky it grew at all, let alone this quickly.”

Jesus stood his ground. “You’re asking me to send a couple of kids into a world like that?”

“They’re full grown adults.”

“In body, maybe.”

God sighed. “If they were supposed to stay in Eden then we would have made it big enough for everyone.”

“The Earth isn’t ready. Doesn’t Eden exist so they don’t have to live on a half-baked planet?”

“Jehova,” Despite himself, Jesus winced. God only used his full name when he was in exceptional trouble. “You could have thrown the entire plan awry with the stunt you pulled, do you understand that? No other man would have set a foot on Earth. I absolutely forbid you from delaying any longer.”

Jesus wanted to argue more, God knew from more than the look in his eye, but the ferocity was quickly draining out of his expression. The resignation stirred something in God, and he knelt to meet his son’s eyes. “Please trust me, this is for the best.”

Jesus’s shoulders slumped and he looked away. “Thy will be done.”

Jesus found Adam and Eve sitting on a hill. They always watched the sky before going to sleep. Seeing them now, bare shoulders brushing one another, fingers laced together, he felt a monster of emotions rise inside him, a sickness of what he was about to do that burrowed into his bones, bitterness towards his father for making him do it. He always rushed things like these, dropping rocks on giant lizards and obliterating the world all in the name of progression, even though the dinosaurs were beautiful, and never deserved such a fate and no amount of “The dinosaurs were a mistake and you know it” would convince Jesus otherwise.

He sat down beside Eve.“How’s it looking tonight?”

Eve smiled at him, her small paradox of a face shining like all the stars were inside it. “The moon is smaller tonight, see?” She reached up like she could pluck the moon out of the sky, and traced the air around the new, smaller curve with her fingers. “That sides smaller.”

Adam looked thoughtful at this. He frowned up at the moon for a long time, then his face brightened and he nodded. “Gibbous.”

“Gibbous?” Eve looked back up at the moon and thought. “I think it sounds weird.”

Adam seemed to deflate a little. “Really?”

“Not weird in a bad way!” Eve fumbled, “I meant weird in a good way.”

“There’s a difference?”

“I think there can be.”

Jesus listened, smiling. He thought about standing up and leaving. Father wouldn’t like it. Well, let him be angry. The Earth had hardly even grown its first tree yet, and the ground was much too hard, and--

“I don’t think I’ve named that.” Adam was pointing to the absolute last tree Jesus wanted him to point to, one with silver leaves that shone like stolen moonlight.

“Actually, I’ve already given it a name. Sorry Adam.”

Adam pouted a bit, but nodded. It was fair game, and Jesus had gotten there first. Eve however, wasn’t ready to let the subject drop. She stared at the new tree the same way she’d stared at the sky, then beamed back at Jesus.

“What is it?”

“Never mind that.” It was a crazy sort of determination that welled up inside of Jesus at that moment. These humans wouldn’t be released into the world, not until Jesus saw fit. Everything he did, everything he’d end up doing in the future, would be for them. “It’s poisoned. Don’t you go anywhere near it, understand?”

God turned away and crossed the border between the garden and heaven, continuing until the air began to warm. Yes, he had been watching. He’d had a feeling his son wouldn’t go through with it. No matter, he already had a contingency. It was a bad idea, God knew that, but mankind couldn’t multiply, they couldn’t feel or learn or live in the garden. That was what the Earth was created for, and because of Jesus’s actions it may never happen otherwise. He had made his son too soft, something in the mixture had been off, and now he had to work with what he had. In short, it was the dinosaurs all over again.

Looking out at the threshold of Hell, God felt an odd sort of pride.Never again would he make a place so horrible. Jesus had offered to make it a little more comfortable, at least give it decent places to sleep, but the sole inhabitant would have none of it. He didn’t want pity. To his credit, the Devil looked remarkably well, comfortable almost. He leaned his head foreword, so his face was wreathed in flames. God could see the burns blooming on his skin, but the Devil didn’t seem to mind. He gave God a venomous smile.

“Well, well, well, company!Really, it’s been positively ages!” The Devil stepped out and held the curtain of flames aside with his arm, earning more burns. “Well, don’t just stand out there in the cold! Come in, come in!”

Despite the gentlemanly gesture, God stayed where he was. “Lucifer.”

Lucifer pouted. “I bet if Jehova had invited you you’d have gone.”

God took the bait. “Funny you should mention him, actually. He’s just what I wanted to talk about.”

Instantly Lucifer’s face soured. “All good things, I’m guessing”

“Oh, very good. He has such wonderful ideas. Did you know he created thousands of different animals almost by himself? I never would have thought of crossing a beaver with a duck or making a long-necked spotted horse.”

“Great.”

“And don’t get me started on the rest of the garden. He even made the one forbidden tree there gorgeous. I’m not sure how Adam and Eve have stayed away.”

“If this is all you’re planning on talking about, then why don’t you go bother someone who cares.”

“If that’s what you want.” God left. He could feel it in the quivering of the air, the gears were set in motion. He hadn’t lied, exactly. It was ungodly to lie. He had merely selected the best truths to serve his needs. That was all.

Of course, Satan had to ruin everything! He was Lucifer, he was the Devil, the corrupter of souls, it was his job, and to top it all off, it would kill him to see the look on his brother’s stupid dumb face. Satan crawled on his belly to the orchard and up the tree. Near the beginning of his hike he’d seen a snake for the first time, and he’d liked it so much that he’d cut it open and slipped into its body. It was so much easier to wind up the trunk of the Tree of Knowledge than to waste time looking for handholds. From up there he could see everything. Every single stinking flower and fuzzy/scaly/feathery whatever-the-heck-it-was wandering around. And there was Eve. Even Satan had to admit, they’d done a bang-up job creating mankind. They were sturdy looking, not as stupid and gaudy as all the other sideshow freaks Jesus came up with on his celestial acid trip. Eve was drifting from place to place, petting animals twice her size and weight in muscle, humming like nothing could ever bother her. Satan could work with that.

“Psst!” Satan’s tongue flicked out, and he lowered himself below the branches. “Psst! Hey. Hey!”

Finally Eve turned to look at him. She smiled. “Oh hello, Snake! What’re you doing all the way up there?”

“Sightseeing, kid. Now listen, I--”

“What sort of a snake are you?”

“The snakey kind, okay? Now just--”

“Anaconda maybe? Or Garter?”

“Hey!”

Eve looked slightly surprised at his tone, but otherwise remained tranquil. Satan took a breath. “Are we finished?”

Eve nodded.

“Well, good. Now listen, you must have eaten everything there is in the garden, right?”

“Everything I’m supposed to.”

“You mean to tell me there’s stuff in this garden you haven’t tried yet?” He flicked one of the fruits in the tree with the end of his tail. “At least tell me you’ve eaten one of these.”

Eve’s eyes widened, and for a second Satan was sure she had her then, but the next she shook her head. “Jesus said they were poisoned.”

Satan laughed. It was like they wanted his plan to work, they had made it so easy. “Oh, they’re poisoned!” He snapped a fruit off the branches and held it in his coils. “So you think if I did this,” He pushed the whole thing in his mouth and bit down. Juice spattered against the trunk of the tree and dripped down his neck. “I’d die on the spot?”

Eve didn’t say anything, but she did look monumentally confused, which earned a chuckle from the Devil. “Well, I don’t feel very dead.”

Eve stared for a moment, then slowly reached out and plucked one from a low-hanging branch. It was shining and red, inviting in a way that made it seem light in her grip. Eve looked down at it, hesitant. Satan lowered himself a little more, so his tongue flicked at her nose.

“Don’t you want to know what it tastes like?”

Satan almost laughed again at the look on her face. Of course that would get her, some stupid thing she didn’t know yet. Eve lifted the fruit slowly to her lips. She wasn’t thinking about the world. She wasn’t thinking about thorns that were sharp or the dust she came from, everything was in the fruit, and Satan knew that. He hissed his pleasure as she bit down, the smell filling his mouth with venom.