Standing in a grassy knoll when Earth was in its infancy, Adam looked up towards Heaven and asked, “Where do babies come from?”
It was a topic that weighed heavy on his mind. He had been living in the Garden of Eden for months without any companionship other than the animals God created. After talking to most of them, Adam found they were disinterested in what he had to say. The language barrier didn’t help. He often wondered why God hadn’t populated the planet with interpreters to help with the attempted conversations, but that was a question for a different day.
Under a fruit tree, obscured by the grass, a serpent lay eavesdropping. Propagating his species was of equal interest so the question asked piqued the snake’s curiosity. A few minutes later, an elderly gentleman with a long white beard approached Adam from behind. Without saying a word, the man stepped beside the inquisitive lad and looked towards the sky.
“Why are you looking up when I’m standing right here?”
“Have you been here long?” Adam asked, startled by God’s sudden appearance.
“Been here? I live here. The Garden of Eden is our commune where you, me, and the animals all live like one big happy family.”
“The animals have been no help. And I think they’re talking about me behind my back.”
“You’re just being paranoid,” God advised. “They love you as I do.”
“I’m going a little stir crazy here, that’s why I asked where babies came from. I was hoping to have someone that looked and talked like me.”
God rubbed the back of His neck and turned away, shifting weight from one foot to the other. “Reproduction is a more complicated question than you realize. I’d tell you go to ask your mother but since I created you, I’m both your mother and father.”
“You impregnated yourself?”
“Again, it’s complicated.”
Adam hung his head with disappointment. When it came to this topic, it seemed his parents knew less than the animals. Sensing dismay, God wrapped an arm around His son’s shoulders and offered a suggestion.
“You’re birthday is coming up. How about instead of a surprise party, I get you a woman?”
With narrowed eyes and a crinkled nose, Adam replied, “A prostitute?”
“No, not a pro!” God snapped back. “A woman…a wife. She’ll be able to better explain where babies come from.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea too.”
“I’ll take care of it over the next couple of days. In the meantime, I want you read this book.”
God handed Adam the children’s book “Are You My Mother?” before disappearing amongst the fruit trees. He knew it wouldn’t answer Adam’s question but was thankful to have postponed an uncomfortable conversation.
Adam sat down and leaned against the heavily knotted trunk of the Knowledge Tree. Planted in the center of the Garden of Eden, it was said to have a memory that extended far beyond it gnarled limbs. With arms outstretched, the tree worshiped the heavens, desirous only to be left alone; to grow old without interference. Eating fruit from this tree was forbidden.
With great interest, Adam read the gifted book and learned about an unhatched baby bird who’s left behind when his mother flies off to find food. After he takes his first breath but unable to fly, the hatchling falls from the nest. He walks around town asking animals and vehicles alike if they are his mother. In the end, the mother and baby bird are reunited. The book didn’t address Adam’s curiosity over where babies came from but at least he enjoyed looking at the colored drawings.
A few days later, God removed one of Adam’s ribs while he slept. When he awoke the next morning in a tub filled with ice and no explanation for the scarred incision on his chest, Adam felt his paranoid distrust of the animals was justified. From the rib, God created a fully grown mate named Eve. He provided her with paternal guidance about how a lady was expected to act. He also issued a stern warning about which fruit trees could be harvested and the one tree that could not.
All the while, the serpent lay in wait, listening to the instructions and learning about his roommates at the commune.
When it was time for her to leave home, to branch out on her own, Eve stood apprehensive of the path laid out before her. The promise of a future yet to be written was offset by concern over the unknown. With all the potential possibilities that existed, she remained wary of the pitfalls. Differentiating between good and evil felt as though it might become a full time job. The heaviest weight on her mind was the hope that Adam would be receptive to living together.
“I’ve taught you everything that I know,” God reassured. “Now it’s time for you go live your life.”
“But what if I need you? What if I have questions?”
“I appear in many forms. In the birds that sing to you from high above, to the bees that pollinate the fruit. I am everywhere. I reside inside your heart.”
A forced smile crossed Eve’s lips as she nodded with feigned understanding. She sighed and headed in the direction God pointed. When she approached Adam’s campsite, Eve cleared her throat to get his attention. The moment Adam saw her, a broad smile spread across his face. His eyes lit up as he gawked at her naked form. Looking to the sky, he thanked God before walking over to greet her.
“Is that a fig in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?” Eve asked as he approached.
Ignoring the spunky attitude, Adam replied, “Have you ever heard of Cinderella?”
“No, but then again I’m only a week old. Who’s that? An ex-girlfriend?”
“Prince Charming searches the countryside with a glass slipper, looking for the woman whose foot fits into it perfectly.” Before continuing, Adam reached for the closest tree and yanked a fig leaf from its branch. “That’s how he finds his soul mate Cinderella. To make sure you’re the one God told me about, I need to see how this fig leaf fits on your body.”
“I hope this isn’t a ploy for you to get a cheap thrill. My father warned me about guys like you.”
Adam stopped walking and held the leaf in her direction, suggesting she secure the garment herself. It couldn’t have fit better. For the next few months, Adam and Eve lived in perfect harmony. The cuddled and talked and spooned with one another. Life was everything they hoped it would be.
Shortly after their seven month anniversary, Adam developed an itch. It was different from the poison ivy contracted while foraging for new leaves to wear. He became restless from the mundane routine of their relationship. He wanted more. Any time he initiated a conversation on the subject, the discussion was abrupt and ended in an argument. It was time for a different approach.
One day, while lounging under the Knowledge Tree, Adam handed Eve the children’s book about the hatchling and asked, “Do you know where babies come from?”
“I know where I came from…from one of your ribs.”
Disoriented for a moment, a heavy feeling settled in Adam’s stomach.
“You mean I have to go through elective surgery every time we have a child? I never realized childbirth would be so painful.”
“Don’t you think we should plan parenthood better?” Eve replied. “I mean, how are we gonna afford children when you’re unemployed?”
“Is it my fault that no one is hiring? And besides, you always complain about equal rights. Why don’t you get a job?”
“I have a job. I’m a housewife.”
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Adam protested with a wave of his hands. “What’s this nonsense about being my wife? I thought we were just shacking up and, y’know, having a good time.”
“If we owned a couch, you’d be sleeping on it tonight,” Eve replied with a stern gaze of disapproval.
Adam stormed off. After he disappeared beyond the fruit trees, Eve flipped through the dogeared pages of the book. Engaged by the story, she didn’t notice the serpent slither towards her, and didn’t look up from reading until after the snake coiled his body around her leg.
“Hungry?” the serpent asked.
“I have a thirst for knowledge, if that’s what you mean.”
“I’m sure I could teach you a thing or two.”
“Adam thinks this book is the Kama Sutra of motherhood,” Eve replied. “That there’s a hidden meaning in the pages, like when you play a vinyl record in reverse.”
“There’s two ways to make babies. The old fashioned way and the fun way.”
Eve leaned closer with keen interest and asked the difference between the two options. The serpent explained The Immaculate Conception. Pregnancy without intercourse. In comparison, he also explained the intricacies of sex, how some body parts fit in others. Eve squinted her eyes and looked at him with confused bewilderment.
The serpent added, “It might be easier if I show you.”
“But we don’t have the same body parts?”
“I can appear in many forms. From the birds and the bees, and everything in between. I am inside of you, or soon will be.”
