The Sixth Day
A bug crawled across his face, waking him up.
“All right, all right. I’m up. Jesus.” He wasn’t sure who Jesus was since he was the only living human in the Universe; it just seemed like the right thing to say. The bug crawled across his face every morning around this time, so he never overslept. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he did since he didn’t have a job. He rolled over to check the alarm clock by his nightstand. But there was no alarm clock. Or nightstand. Or time.
The bug was hungry. Adam found a large bright green leaf, picked it up off the ground, blew off the dirt that had accumulated on it, and set it in front of his bug friend. Why the insect couldn’t find his own damned food was beyond him. But his was not to question the ways of the Universe.
He went to a corner of the room where he slept in his hut and went to a tall thing he called a “bureau” made from mud and leaves. He had cleverly added “drawers” that slid in and out to hide and protect the delicate leaves he used to make the clothes. And to feed the bug. He opened the top one. The drawer was full of the same species of leaf, each slightly different aesthetically for variety and style. Each leaf had a vine tied in a large loop pushed through it. There was no need for clothing since modesty was a thing of the future. No, this wasn’t out of modesty at all. This was totally utilitarian, to keep the sheep from nobbling at his privates. He had made several hundred versions of these leaf clothes, primarily out of boredom. On the last few he had made, he figured out how to make the knot adjustable in case he gained or lost weight. There were plenty of animals for him to slaughter, so he never had to go hungry. But it was a giant pain to hunt, kill, prepare, and then cook an animal every single day. So, some days, he went without eating and lost a little weight. Fruits and vegetables were abundant, but they did very little to keep the weight on. Plus, he was getting sick of the lack of variety.
One food he was curious about was the Fruit that hung from the special tree in the garden’s center. He was very tempted to eat one, just to see what it tasted like since it looked delicious. But God said no. He was never sure why God said no. Something about how the tree possessed knowledge; if he ate the fruits that blossomed from it, he would suddenly know things. At first, it all sounded a little like science fiction to him (and a lot like bullshit). And, so what if he knew these so-called “forbidden” things? What was the harm in that? But who was he to question God? Soon, however, he began to think maybe there really was some truth to this “knowledge” thing. He often caught one goat eating a fruit that had fallen from the tree, and he started to believe that the goat was becoming smarter than him. It had even learned to walk on its hind legs and begun speaking Arabic. This seemed a little too close to evolution, and it surprised him that God didn’t stop that immediately. If this kept up, soon the monkeys may turn into people. And that was some really messed up stuff. He stared at the tree. Some day, he would eat one of those Fruits. He’d be damned if he was going to be outwitted by a goat.
He stood at the edge of his garden, watering it. And what a vast garden it was! Although vast compared to what, he wasn’t sure. There were fig trees and pear trees, juniper bushes and blueberry bushes. He would have been proud of it, were pride not a sin. It was beautiful, and he took great pains to make it that way. If any visitors showed up, it would greet them with the most amazing sights and intoxicating smells. He had enough to feed an army; it was a shame to let this all be for nothing. He couldn’t help but feel that it was all wasteful. No matter; it wasn’t he that was wasting it. It was whoever created this garden. Was it sinful to think things like that? He hoped not. So far, he was without sin and wished to keep it that way.
He had never been far enough out into the garden to lose sight of his hut, so he did not understand how massive it was. He had plenty to eat all around him, and there was no need to venture out farther. But he was sure there was more to see out there. More delights and wonderments that he hadn’t discovered yet. So, why not? He was curious and bored. He was hoping curiosity and boredom weren’t sins. He couldn’t wait until God came out with a list. Or handbook. Or something.
Get A is for Adam at these fine retailers: