Large, but seemingly virtual hands were hard at work on something that resembled an orang-utang. Moulding, kneading, shaping, and correcting. When the full form of the mammal stood before the glassy pair of hands, almost animatedly, the same hands simply sliced some strategic points, and each single whole part which belonged to the member of the baboon family thudded on the cushioned ground. There appeared a face, hands, butt, legs, bones of all shapes, sizes and fittings, nerves, tendons and ligaments, intestines, everything. As swiftly as the parts had fallen to the ground, the hand had resumed work again, gathering them into a cocooned container. It was only then Adamu spoke up, having witnessed the latter part of the work.
‘What are you doing, sir?’ he quizzed, even though he had a faint idea what was going on.
‘Oh, just spare-parting for your animals’, the Voice was still, cool, and reeked peace and friendliness. ‘I watch that Ame by the day, and I am sure he is soon to break those limbs, the way he launches from tree to tree. Do you think the spring I put in his leap is too much? I can cut it down in their next generation, you know.’
‘I think its rather okay that way, sir. Or rather, let’s watch and see how it plays out in the next generation. We can then effect the adjustments. But it actually gives me pleasure, the way these animals leap’, he added, a smirk breaking from his red, well positioned lips.
‘Okay…you are the boss on this…just wanted your opinion…so how are you finding your new mate?’
‘What is that latest nickname of yours again…..isn’t it Lord, sir? You are just too perfect for me to handle. I couldn’t have had it any better. She is so beautiful; sometimes I get lost looking at her. Though she asks too many questions, but that is small fry, compared to being alone in all this magnificence.’
The glassy hands dropped the baboon parts, and travelled five metres to rest on his shoulders. It patted him gently and reassuringly. ‘My son……all yours to enjoy.’
He stirred from sleep to look dreamily into eight pairs of eyes, and stares. The long mane and growl of the lion had been ineffective, so the cobra thought it was his turn to try. Meandering and slithering round his body the eighth time, he was soon to discover the futility of his effort, until the elephant had doubled up and lifted him gently by the waist a few inches high, and dropped him the same way.
‘Oh, fellas, I am so sorry, the communion was sweet. Lets go!’
He leapt up and ran some metres in the direction of the orchard, the lion following hard at his heels. Time for games. Adamu parted the hedge of shrubs that served as the door, got in, and picked a tomato. He did not like the taste he got, and he knew the reason.
‘I need moisture for these fruits’. He looked back at them. The thought of forfeiting this hour’s games did not sit well with them, particularly the elephant who had boasted what he would do to the giraffe at the catch. They ogled at him, confused.
Suddenly and blessedly, the ground underneath them felt wetter and wetter. The seeping up of underground water threatened to cover the grasses that formed both carpet and cushion, but did justly, and spread round. In moments, the colour of fruity ripeness appeared on every fruit tree, and the glee of the animals was deafening.
Her jet-black hair was of the creamiest and healthiest kind, tapering luxuriantly down to her hour-glass waist. Her full and naked behind was carefreely flaunted, which balanced well on the most appropriate set of thighs and legs, which ran a good distance southwards at least a metre and half. The innocent, perfect, bright-skinned and rounded form of Iva had discovered the blueberry today and could not wait to take one home to Adamu, of course after tasting three of it herself. The taste was heavenly, and she would ask Adamu how it was grown. She popped two more into her mouth, and savoured contentedly. Her lush eyelashes parted open and turned sharply when a rustle in the leaves startled her.
‘Hi’. Smooth as silk was the voice.
‘Hello. I haven’t seen you before. I live here alone with Adamu. He tells me he is my husband.’
The figure behind her, which she had turned to face squarely, smiled. It was a knowing smile, one so pregnant, of his vast knowledge of this kind of species, and of a knowing of her naivety, which felt good to notice.
‘My name is Bon’.
You look so much like Adamu, but your voice is so different, if not more beautiful.’
Í haven’t seen you around too. You look new….and beautiful too.’ There was a strange emphasis on the last adjective.
‘So how are you finding our garden? Sweet? Enjoyable?’ He asked, as he gently settled down beside her on the grass, eyeing her intently.
‘I am enjoying every bit of it. This place is so heavenly!’
‘Speaking of heaven, you haven’t seen anything yet. Wait till you experience my heaven.’
‘What do you mean? Do you have a heaven? Show me!’
‘It depends….. I have to run along now. Be seeing you!’
Iva glared at the receding form that was Bon. He was arguably more handsome than her husband. Where Adamu was of average height, this here was at least six feet, with shoulders and a hairy chest which promised so much succour and protection. She had never seen Adamu shave, so she wondered how Bon managed to have that snaky, curly length of hair running smoothly from the side of his head to his chin. Adamu’s eyes were strong and always tired, but Bon had deep, soft, searchy eyes that bored like a drill. She needed to know him, and wanted to hear the ring of his voice again. She had decided she liked him, and it surprised her. She would look for him tomorrow……..
Iva woke with a start. Sweet start, for looking deep into her dreamy hazel eyes was another which she could have sworn had some distant flame in it. She had seen a flame before, but the sheer hue and form of the one she was now looking at was one she needed to feel and touch. He had added tons to his handsomeness today. If it were the eyes alone, it could have been more bearable; today his face seemed to have that perfect chisel and fit that was strangely pleasing and alluring. She also thought she perceived some sweet smell around him. He radiated finery in a strange way.
‘Hi.’ His voice drew her the more. She couldn’t stop herself reaching for his face, tracing appreciatively the ‘L’shape of the curly burn of hair that ended in a large mass on his chin.
‘Your hands are unbelievably soft. Woow’.
‘How did you get here?’
‘Óh come on Iva, you are everywhere I look.’
‘Everywhere you look? Is that possible?
‘Everywhere I see.’
‘Mmmm. How do you mean?’’
‘Oh, never mind that. Its just my way of saying you are everywhere I imagine.’
‘Everywhere you imagine?’
‘I think about you all the time!’ he said it so bluntly, with some dose of emphasis, one that he felt like accentuating with a touch of her fair, soft face, and he did. His hairy hands did touch, actually, more than her face; it travelled down towards, and ended up on the mounds on her chest, which turned pink at his touch. The hand spent some seconds there.
‘That felt sweet.’
‘Yes. Can you do it again?’
‘Why?’ Silence replied.
‘You were telling me about your heaven yesterday.’
‘Oh, that’, he was staring far now, face taut, yet not losing the imposing handsomeness. Suddenly he turned, facing her squarely, and pinned her with his eyes. His eyes travelled slowly but surely from her face, lips, rested a little as it reached her breasts, continued to the stomach, navel, and berthed at the dark hairy parting in the middle of her legs, and anchored. She followed his gaze till she could trace it. She parted her legs a little further. ‘What?’
‘That. My heaven.’
‘I don’t understand.’ He smiled, knowingly, and generously.
‘You do, you just do not know.’
‘Okay, but I will die if I do. It is the tree we are not supposed to eat of.’
‘I can’t believe you have learnt to lie. How old are you in this place, and you lie you don’t understand?’
‘I am sorry I said I didn’t understand, but my husband said we will die if we eat of the tree. I don’t know what eating of the tree means. Do you know?’
‘It depends…..’ that faraway look, taut face again.
‘It depends on you, Iva. I love you, and I can’t hide anything from you. All my knowledge I am willing to give you. You are being deceived, Iva. I suppose the Creator told your man that. He wants to retain control over you, to keep ordering you about, to keep you depending on Him for everything. That is why He gave you those ridiculous set of rules. If you try what I am willing to show you, the world and universe will be open to you. You will have superb control over everything, and above all, you will be wise. You will not die.’
‘This sounds reasonable. No wonder. I have been asking Adamu about this tree but he refuses to say anything. Can you show me? I want control too. I hate having to ask him everything all the time.’
‘You really want it?’ A nod of accent.
‘Then lie down.’
Bon took time to fully explain the intricacies to Iva who was now feverish with desire, until he graduated smoothly from theoreticals to practicals, making sure he had her full consent at each stop. The initial pain she felt was nothing compared to the waves of heaven she knew, but little did she notice the darkening of Bon’s face, and the deep reddening of his eyes, his glee at injecting his seed into the specie inexplicable and intense.
‘Can we do this again?’
‘Adamu’, she cooed to him later when they were together.
‘I want to teach you something. A new trick.’
‘Wow, what is it about?’
Without another word, she lay on her back, parted her legs, and pointed to the limp small pipe between his muscular thighs, and showed him what to do with it, gesticulating with her hands, saying nothing. With a puzzled look, he brought it close to target, and the rest of the leading, initiation and consummation was chaired by Iva. The new trick lasted five minutes, but as soon as it was over, everything became strangely different, and became worse as the seconds ticked by.
It started with a rushing feeling of guilt, to the extent he could not face the animals, though he could not lay a finger on what it was, and why he felt so lost and alone . He called on the tortoise for the usual morning advice, but it pretended it did not hear him. When it happened with the hippo, tiger and giraffe, he knew it had to do with that trick he had been taught.
Several changes had occurred on his body. He was now broad-chested, taller and muscular, and he felt used and spent most of the time. These days when he slept, he could no longer connect seamlessly to the laboratory where there was more spare-parting to do. No more word from the Creator anymore, no more interactions. When he looked at Iva these days, he felt in the place of love and admiration, a strange familiarity and contempt, and wanted less and less to do with her. She seemed to know, also, for she also kept her shamefaced distance. They talked less and less, and were hardly seen in each other’s company.
One day, Adamu could stand the atmosphere no longer, and combed the garden for his wife. When he found her, he moved towards her, and was not up to ten yards close to her when an unprecedented happened.
How she got to know she was being watched Adamu could never tell, for she spun round instinctively, using one hand to cover her bosom, and the other the dark part under her navel. She did a very bad job of it, turning her face westwards. Adamu was about to inquire after what had come over his wife, when the boom of the Creator’s voice sent the both of them scampering for cover under the shrubs, Iva hiding behind him. ‘Take, cover yourself’, he said, offering her some loosely tied fig leaves.
‘Where are you, Adamu?’ the voice was straight, formal, and expressionless. He did not answer.
The voice boomed again, laden with threat and proximity, assaulting Adamu, and he was forced to stagger and fall back, and only then did he manage a reply.
‘I cannot face you, sir.’
‘What happened? Why?’
‘I am unclothed.’
‘So you now know that? Have you eaten of that tree?’
‘It was Iva, sir, and you gave her to me.’
‘Iva, is that true?’
‘The serpent deceived me, I am sorry.’
A small party had gathered around the scene, and Bon, nudged on and pushed helplessly by the elephant, eyes transfixed to the ground, propelled to stand near Iva, and kept there by the numerous pairs of eyes, curious to know the next move.
‘I had my reasons for not allowing you eat of that tree’, the Voice began, and for disobeying me, all of you must suffer the consequences. Bon, for allowing yourself to be overtaken by that old evil spirit, you will crawl on your belly, and dust will be your food. There will always be war between your children and the children of light.’
‘To you, Iva, for allowing yourself to be defiled by a beast first instead of your husband, I will not spare you. Giving birth will be painful for you and may kill you, and you will begin to menstruate every month. Your husband WILL rule you, and you will cede all your glory and honour to him, since you did nothing good with yours.
‘Adamu, for choosing to identify with a woman in sin instead of obey me, nothing will be easy for you to get. You will sweat before you eat, and you will no longer live forever, as was my initial plan, but you will grow old, get sick, and die. You will pay for anything you get; nothing shall be free for you anymore.’ like the rumble of thunder, the voice echoed far into the deep, and ended like it started.
Like he was being hypnotized, Adamu felt like he was being unskinned, spirit separated from his body and soul. The same happened to Eve before his eyes, and he could see her light VIRTUAL float around, and away. In a flash, both of them felt empty, sensual and heavy. The animals, grunting their disapproval, went their separate ways.
By the next day, all the greenery of the garden had waned considerably, and his first five steps, of the rest of his life made him cry out in sharp pain. He had stepped on a thorn, which was the first of many to come, and he began to name them all over again. He was also greeted some mornings later with the sight of a dead and bloodied goat, mauled to death by the lion which he could see walking gingerly away.
Some months later, he came home after a long day’s hustle to find his wife in a messy pool of some whitish substance.
‘I’m pregnant, Adamu!’