All Living : A Seedvision Saga (9781621473923) (9 page)

Kole had many such thoughts and questions in his mind that night as he sat and stirred his fire. The Creator had left much unrevealed. The family had prospered when they realized they could collect animals and train them, raise them, encourage them to have offspring. They had marveled that some animals became loyal if they were fed regularly and well. Adam had devised a means of growing certain fruits and vegetables all in one place rather than depending on the mercy of the earth to randomly provide food, and Cain had discovered a way to bring water to areas God had not originally caused water to flow.

“If God had meant for the stream to branch in all directions through this valley, He would have done so,” Abel had once remarked to Cain. But Cain had his own ideas, and many times they were good ones.

“If God had meant for us to eat our fish cooked,” Cain had retorted, “He would have created them on fire.” Kole smiled at the memory.

He poked at the fire with a stick and watched as the wood popped and sparks bloomed in the air.
Sparks fly,
thought Kole,
not like birds, but they do fly.
What makes them fly,
he wondered. They have no wings, and there is no breeze. He plucked a leaf from a nearby bush and held it above the heat of the fire. He let it go and it fluttered erratically up into the air until it was far enough from the flames that it drifted back to the ground. “Could it be the heat that makes things fly?” questioned Kole. “Could the air be hotter the higher up you are? Or do the birds and insects carry their own heat with them. Do the birds flap their wings until they find rivers of warmth up there in the heavens? Is there one means to fly and perhaps another to float?”

Kole’s eyes grew heavy as he stared into the flames and questioned the unknown. Soon he would have his answers. He would ask God to help him understand these mysteries. He lay back and looked up into the night sky. The stars were bright in their places and the moon, although not quite full, seemed to shine its own nameless light down upon him.

“What holds you in place, Moon? How do you hang there in the heavens without flapping wings, without the sun’s heat? What causes you to shine so bright and change your shape from an eye to a smile? For what purpose do you leave your place above and visit the earth just before the sun rises and sets? God made you too. Has he withheld you from our dominion? If I had wings and wind enough I would fly up to your lonely patch of sky and sleep in your smooth curve. I would explore your hidden places and feast on stars and bathe in the warm waters of your company. Do not be so bold, moon, as to think you can elude me forever.”

He held up his thumb and forefinger to the moon as if to pinch it. “My sons will pluck you from the sky and shape you into fine jewels for their wives. My grandsons will inherit your habitat and raise fine families where once you alone held dominion. You will not forever remain exempt from the blessings God has bestowed upon us. We will devise a means to reach you. We are His children and you will be our plaything.”

Kole smiled at his own fantasies. He looked around and felt alone within the vastness of the world and beneath the broad expanse of the night sky. His fire had burned low, and the night was cool. He wished Kesitah were there to share her warmth with him. He had not realized until then how much he ached for her companionship. Thinking sweet thoughts of holding her to his chest, he drifted off into a melancholy sleep.

Kole was up with the dawn and having eaten, called to his sheep and started on again toward the west. His parents had been banished from the eastside of the garden and had traveled east. All he had to do was retrace their steps. He followed the stream until it gradually turned south then struck out across a sea of grass, sparsely dotted with low scrub trees. After a quick break around midday, he noticed the land rising slightly, the grass giving way to barren earth. The way became more and more rocky and harder to traverse. He spotted two hills shortly after and aimed his face directly between them. There seemed to be a natural path cutting straight through the middle of them, and Kole hoped that on the other side of the hills he would get his first glimpse of Eden. His sheep had no trouble keeping up, and occasionally he would catch sight of the small bird, flying just ahead of him, almost as if leading the way.
I hope that’s a good sign
, thought Kole.

The sun had not moved much in the sky when he realized that he was close. The two opposing hills had become sheer, rocky walls that rose on both sides of him like stone fences.
This must be the canyon I’m seeking,
Kole thought. His stomach knotted with anticipation.

The canyon meandered gently back and forth between the two walls of rock. Kole climbed over large boulders, fallen haphazardly along the path, while his sheep stepped or leaped nimbly over them. Occasionally he caught sight of the small bird high up in the crisp, spring sky.
Can’t be much further now,
he thought.

The rubble-strewn path ran alongside a small stream, and Kole stopped for a drink. When he stood up he noticed for the first time a cave up ahead. The canyon walls converged at that point, and if not for the cave, the way would have been a dead end. “Well, what have we here?” Kole asked himself.

He picked his way up toward the cave and stopped at the entrance. He peered in but could make out little inside the dim interior. “This must be the place,” he muttered. He took a deep breath and ducked inside. The cave was faintly lit by the outside light, enough so that he could make out the path continuing further into the dark recesses. His sheep hesitated for a moment, but when Tso’n followed Kole in, the rest fell in line.

He moved cautiously forward, feeling his way with his hands stretched out before him. Just as the light from the entrance began to pale into nothing, light from the far end caught his eye. He moved toward it as best he could, slowly so that his timid sheep could keep up. As he reached the exit, he paused so his eyes could adjust again to the brightness of the day. He raised his eyes and viewed a broad meadow, waist-high grasses swaying gently in a slight breeze.

The meadow was filled with birds and flying insects, darting and diving and dodging each other as they enjoyed the freedom of life, but what caught Kole’s eyes were the woods on the far side of the meadow that stretched in both directions as far as he could see. The path seemed to lead straight and narrow across the expanse of the field and enter the forest. Kole smiled, readjusted his pack, and started across the field with long strides.

He was almost to the trees when a figure emerged from the shadows of the trunks, causing him to come to an abrubt stop. The being was one that Kole had never seen before, but he had heard tales from both his mother and father that made him certain of what he was looking at; a cherubim.

The living being looked human in stature, but its face, the face that examined Kole with deep steadfast eyes, was the face of a lion, golden brown and furred with a broad muzzle and hot breath. To either side of its head, where its ears should have been, were other faces. On the right was the face of an eagle, and on the left was a human face. It had four faces and two pairs of wings. Its legs were long and formed as a man’s legs but with the split hooves of a calf as feet, and they shone bright and polished like butterfly wings or changing leaves. Beneath each of the wings were human arms and hands. And in his one hand was a flaming staff so bright that it caused Kole’s eyes to burn and water when he looked at it. He fell down upon the earth with his face pressed to the grass and could not form his words.

“No,” boomed the voice of the cherubim like thunder on a mountain, “do not do that, son of Adam, for I am your fellow servant. Rise.”

Kole looked up into the dark eyes of the angel. He stood slowly, noticing his sheep grazing unconcerned upon the sweet meadow sedge. “Are you not Kole, the son of the man Adam and the woman Eve?”

“I am that same Kole.” He felt his unsteady legs tremble and his voice break.

“Do not be afraid,” said the angel, “for I have been placed here to keep man from entering the garden of the Lord.”

“I have come to seek answers from the Lord,” said Kole. “I have come to enter this garden.”

“From the day you first set forth upon this purpose, it has been known,” said the cherub. “You alone may enter the garden. Your sheep may remain in this vale, safe and well tended.”

Kole hesitated. He looked at his sheep for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. He took a step toward the angel. The cherubim swung the fiery staff up before him. “Caution, son of Adam, do not eat of any of the fruit of the garden unless instructed by the Lord to do so. Do not eat or drink anything nor let any food touch your lips for three days. Do not eat of the fruit of the trees nor of the produce of the ground. Do not eat nut or berry nor meat, nor drink any of the water. This is His will.” As he spoke, all four of the mouths moved at once; the mouth of the lion, the mouth of the man, the mouth of the oxen, and the mouth of the eagle.

“I understand,” said Kole. The angel lowered his staff and moved in the direction that the human face was facing. Kole took a step forward and then another. He passed the angel and turned to look back. The cherubim had resumed its original position, but the fourth face, that of the oxen, watched him with intelligent eyes.

Kole turned and looked through the trees. They were not as close together as he had imagined them to be. The woods were spacious and well tended. The moment he had stepped under the canopy of trees he realized that the breeze was sweet and mild, almost as if the branches had brushed the breath of the air with leaves of mint.

He took a deep mouthful of the air and swallowed it, feeling it flow through his body and fill his chest with its rich luxury. He walked, not knowing or caring which direction he went. He walked as his eyes found wonders to walk toward, to examine. The breeze ruffled the leaves and branches of the trees all around him, playing a merry game of chase with itself through the boughs. It whispered to him among the limbs and teased him with its mastery of motion.

The birds were everywhere, pausing to rest among the dappled shadows and flying back and forth with their young. Animals drifted amongst the trunks of the trees, creatures he had seen and creatures he had never seen, but he knew their names: horse, lion, elephant, bear, giraffe, and squirrel; monkey, dog, zebra, mouse, kangaroo, and camel. They paused in their grazing as he passed, some so close to him that he reached out and touched them.

The sound of water sang to him and he followed it to its source, a wide river of water rushing between pebbled banks to disappear in the distance. Many of the animals slept beside its coolness, the soothing gurgle of its passage lulling them to stillness. Wild vines and flowers grew in organized disarray, colorfully bedecking the shady shoreline.

The trees on either side of the river stretched their fruit-laden limbs toward each other, dipping to brush the surface of the liquid as it flowed past. But it was the fruit and the scent of its juices that captivated Kole’s attention most. He had never witnessed such a profusion of colors and aromas. The grapes and berries were thickly gathered and individually enormous. Each grape was the size of a man’s fist and so darkly purpled as to rival sunset’s last fleeting moments. Each berry bent the tendril of its vine and although smaller in size, colored the landscape every imaginable hue—reds, blues, and blacks, whites, yellows, and oranges. Vines and creeping branches produced melons the size of a man’s head with a variety of solids, speckles, and stripes. The fruit trees provided an equal canopy of ripe, luscious delights; silver and gold and clear designs, and shapes with unknowable names, all in the peak of their perfection.

They hung everywhere. Each tree bowing with the weight of its bounty, bent toward the earth to generously present its offering. Kole licked his lips but turned away. However, there was no escaping the abundance in the garden. Trees with no fruit on them offered the meat of nuts, their hulls blanketing each circular patch of earth around their roots and bases. Some of the shells had cracked open from falling, and Kole could smell the rich, wooden headiness of their pungency. Beneath the limbs of the garden it was cool and shady, and Kole noticed for the first time that the sun was much lower in the sky. He was hungry but dared not eat any of the delicacies around him. The angel had warned him neither to eat nor to let food touch his lips. In his pack he still had some of his dried fish but even that was off limits. Kole smiled to himself and found a soft patch of grass to lie down upon. He thought briefly of lighting a fire, but he was tired and the air was not in any way unpleasant. He comforted himself with the first amiable thoughts that he had had in a long time and closed his eyes. Thoughts of the garden’s beauty began to heal the bruised thoughts of his brothers. Within moments he was dreaming.