After all, this time it was his duty.
Chapter Forty: Creation
Hannah and Sarah had brought seeds with them from the Garden, and planting them was their first concern. They found a place near the stream with good earth and marked it with stones. The presence of the lions had driven the smaller animals away, so they didn’t need to worry about rabbits or rodents nibbling the stalks as they grew. Someday they would have fruit and nuts to supplement the meat Reu was teaching the other men to provide.
Most of the women settled into their new land easily, finding a routine for themselves and work to keep them busy. As the weeks passed, it was not just the seeds that sprouted and grew, but Tova’s stomach as well, becoming heavy and awkward. No one quite knew what to do to help her. Reu had mentioned watching a dog give birth once, but could offer little more than his witness that it had been messy and difficult for mother and child. Worse, Reu was certain the baby belonged to Adam, not Tova’s husband Enoch. One of several, it seemed, but Adam showed no interest in any of the women.
“I don’t understand,” she told Reu one night. Several moons had come and gone since the others had arrived. “Why is he still here? He does as he’s asked, keeps the terms you set without complaint. It’s not right, Reu. It isn’t like him to remain so subdued.”
Lilith had married Adam and lived with him outside the shelter of the caves. When Eve realized she was sleeping in the cold, she had given her the fur from an antelope to warm herself, but Lilith had sneered at her and the gift, even as her waist thickened. Adam kept his word, and no new bruises appeared on Lilith’s body, but there was little Eve could do to help her, and she did not trust Adam, even so.
Reu shook his head and settled her more comfortably against his body under the fur they kept as a blanket. “Maybe he’s changed. Maybe being thrown from the Garden taught him humility.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
“This has been difficult for everyone, Eve. Losing the abundance of the Garden, hunting to feed ourselves. I would be more surprised if he moved through this life unchanged and untouched.” His hands were warm and rough, calloused now from the work he did with them.
She drew his hand across her waist and pressed herself as close to him as possible.
He chuckled softly in her ear and then stopped, his hand passing across her stomach and abdomen again more firmly, searching. “Have I given you a child, Eve?”
“I have begun to wonder, too.” She twisted in his arms to look at him in the darkness, reminded suddenly of the first time they had spoken, when all she could see of him was shadow in the cave. “But I’m not sure I know how to be a mother, Reu.”
He kissed her, stroking her hair and face. “Nor I a father. But there will be other children before ours to learn from, and God made us for this more than anything. You mother us already, caring for Tova when she sickens in the morning and making sure we are all fed and clothed.”
“You give me more honor than I deserve, husband.”
“I give you the honors you have earned, wife.” He pressed his forehead to hers, and his voice became rough. “Keep Eri close.”
“Always,” she agreed, though the reminder made her frown. Eri protected her from Adam, first and foremost.
He sighed and held her close. “I love you more knowing you have my child within you. I cannot let any harm come to you now.”
“I’m safe, Reu. Here with you, I always feel safe.”
“It will be many months before the baby comes,” he said softly.
“Hannah says Tova’s child will come any day now. We stay by her side, waiting for signs. I think it will be reassuring to all of us to be able to witness our own futures, but I know she’s frightened.”
“Keep some of the willow bark at hand. If there’s pain, it should help.” He stared at the stone above them, his eyes unfocused. “I wonder if Adam knows anything of this.”
The idea he might had occurred to her, but she had not wanted to ask. “Perhaps.”
“I’ll speak with him during our hunt tomorrow.” He sounded determined. Eve silently wished him luck, though it was unlikely he would meet with much success. He yawned, and she felt his exhaustion creeping over her.
“Sleep, love,” she said, curling up against his body. “Sleep well.”
It was late the next day when Tova went into labor. Her cries echoed so loudly, Eve worried it would bring the hunters running in concern. Eve did her best to soothe her with soft words and cool water, but each time Tova’s body rocked with labor, her screams ripped through them all. Then the baby’s head appeared between her legs and Hannah was able to draw out its little body as Tova pushed and wept. It was a little boy, wet with blood. He cried almost as loudly as his mother, and Eve smiled.
“He’s strong like you, Tova. And beautiful. What will you name him?”
She looked startled at the idea, searching Eve’s face. “But he is yours, Eve. Won’t you name the children, as Adam named us?”
Eve shook her head, sitting back on her heels. It had never occurred to her the women might expect such a thing. “He is of your body, Tova, and it is your right to name him. I would not take that away from you. We live by Adam’s rules no longer.”
Tova looked back at the baby, her brow furrowed. “But what is a good name?”
“Any name you desire.” Eve stroked her hair back from her face and sighed. They had been living under her leadership for so many moons, and they still did not understand their own freedom.
The baby continued to cry, long and loud, and Eri joined them, his ears flattened against his skull, sniffing at the baby and its mother. There was a roar from outside, and Tzofi appeared with Reu not far behind. The lioness went to the baby and began licking the blood and fluids from his body, purring loudly. Eve watched carefully to be sure the baby would be safe, but there was nothing to alarm her in Tzofi’s mind.
Tova laughed when Tzofi’s rough tongue lapped over her arm, and Reu called both lions away, kneeling where Tzofi had stood.
“The first son,” he said, glancing from the baby to Eve, his eyes full of affection.
“Maybe I should call him Kefir.” Tova smiled. “Since the lions like him so much, and he roars like one. My little lion.”
“It is a good name,” Eve agreed, returning her smile. “Perhaps he will grow to be as strong and as skilled a hunter.”
Reu laughed. “If only it were so easy. That we could name ourselves lions, and become them.” He stood then. “I must return to my work. May God’s spirit bless you, Tova, and your son.”
Eve stayed with Tova until the baby fed and her exhaustion overcame her joy. Tova passed the baby to her, and Eve cradled him carefully to her chest. He slept too, like his mother, no doubt worn out from all his crying. Reu had carved steps in the rock to their overlook, and she took the baby with her to look over the valley. Eri followed at her heels.
It was a shame this boy would never know where he had come from. Would never know the bounty and splendor of the Garden, or the journey from it. She prayed he would never have cause to meet with the angels. He was a child born of the mountain and the grasses and the earth. Adam’s child, if Reu’s thoughts were true.
“You look out at the Garden as though you loved it,” a voice said behind her.
She did not have to turn to know who spoke. “Would you like to see your son, Brother?”
Adam came to stand beside her, ignoring the baby in her arms, and the warning snarl from Eri. “Do you miss it, then? What you chose to leave so quickly?”
“You exiled me, Adam. I did not choose to leave.” She frowned at him. “If not to see your baby, why do you come to me?”
