Eve

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve always liked life. Loved it, even. It’s just that I've always been burdened with the thought of how much better things could be if I hadn’t been thrown into it at such a late date in human history. See, I’ve never believed in the conventional definition of innocence, adhering more to that line about the way the “sins of the fathers (and mothers)” get visited on the sons (and daughters). So I’ve always wondered what my life would be like if I could have somehow been reborn at the dawn of human history, before all my ancestral baggage, with all its inevitable hang-ups, had been created.

You won’t be surprised to hear, therefore, that when time travel was invented, I was one of the first ones to queue up as a volunteer to try out the new technology. I couldn’t wait to go as far back as possible, to see if it would make any difference.

My petition was accepted, partly because I was the head of a major think tank, and partly because it was already known that time flowed unilineally, so no one was particularly worried about anybody’s activities at any particular point in time. And time clutter wasn’t an issue yet.

So I packed up a few duds and headed out late one night. Right from the start,  they preferred to send you in the middle of the night. Less electrical interference, they said, and they were right.

In those days nobody even cared where you were going. Since everyone figured it was a one-way trip, you were the only one responsible for the outcome. A few speculative books and manuals were available, with lists of the times and places to avoid, as well of those that might be particularly fun or interesting. But that was mostly stuff you could figure out for yourself using common sense and a decent library. Essentially, when the big moment came, they just tossed you into the booth and let you set the dials to wherever and whenever you wanted.

Of course, no one knew I’d managed to scrounge up a little hypothetical return device. Naturally, it was still untested on the scale of the venture upon which I was now about to embark. But I had got it to work on a small-time basis within our underground lab out in the country. If you had been watching, it would have looked like we were making pigeons and mice disappear and then reappear an hour or two later. And though usually reappearing in a somewhat different spot than the one they'd left from, they'd all returned none the worse for wear, as far as we could tell.  So when I walked into the time booth, I had a miniaturized version of the thing we had used on them stuck in my pocket--just in case I found myself less than totally thrilled with my new destination.

As soon as I got the signal to begin, I began turning the dials without any hesitation. It had taken some work to figure out the right coordinates, and I still wasn’t a hundred percent certain about them—how could I be? But I knew I had come as close as was humanly possible, given the information available to me, so there was no point in worrying.

I yelled “ready” and I went.

The sensory experience was remarkably tame, particularly given how momentous the event. I’ve often noticed that the sensations that accompany truly life-altering phenomena, contrary to their treatment in works of fiction, are often quite subtle. For what seemed like a few seconds, I experienced the same feeling one gets while whizzing between stations on a subway, but without any roaring in my ears. Time travel, as everyone now knows, is a completely silent business. Then, quick as you please, I was there. I blinked and looked up to see myself surrounded by an immense forest, unquestionably greener and more highly oxygenated than any I had ever known.

What a thrill and delight. I felt better immediately! Now the only question was, how close was she? Once I knew that, of course, there would be other considerations, like, would I be able to get her alone, and so forth.

It was daylight. I had dialed for morning, being no dummy. I trudged for what seemed like hours, munching only occasionally on one of the energy bars from my pack. Travel was no problem. I had worn good shoes and the forest was dotted with plenty of clearings, and nowhere overgrown. In fact, it seemed to have been created entirely for my pleasure and convenience. There were even several streams and glistening pools of what turned out to be the best fresh water I had ever tasted.

My main problem was that, despite having brought a map and compass, I could not possibly expect there to be any landmarks or points of reference from which to get my bearings—at least not til I had been here awhile. Apart from the broadest geographical context, I was still fully in the realm of mythology at this stage. If my assumptions in this regard were to fail me, however, the whole enterprise would go for nothing, so there was no percentage in dwelling on it. I just pushed ahead, relying on luck and intuition to take over where science could no longer guide me.

Pretty soon thereafter I came to a bigger clearing than I had seen before. Some of the trees there even had thick, smooth trunks bent in strangely beautiful ways close to the ground, providing natural benches. The first park, I thought, and was about to smile at my own witticism when I heard a rustle of leaves behind me.

I turned and there she was.

Eve.

Now, I’ve always been a pretty self-assured and self-confident guy, but at that moment I was blown away by a couple of things. First, I must admit with some embarrassment, I just couldn’t believe I had predicted her location so accurately. I mean, I had just turned a journey of eons through time and space into a couple hours walk. So I later wondered how she might have felt if she had known that when I first shook my head at her, it was in simple amazement of my having found her, not just my response to her indescribable beauty.

But none of this seemed to matter to Eve, who simply looked at me as though she had been expecting me.

“Nice of you to have come.” Her smile was demure, if a bit sad.

“You knew I was coming?”

“Of course. I sent for you.”

“Huh?” My memory probed my scientific mind for some recollection of having been summoned here by anything other than natural curiosity, but to no avail. Still, I couldn’t resist the urge to play along. I made a slight bow.

“I am honored then. To what do I owe such an audience?

She was matter-of-fact, if you can imagine such an attitude coming from such an ethereal creature.

“I have something to tell you, to tell all of my descendents—and now seemed as good a time as any.”

“Time?” I couldn’t keep back a smile, but she didn’t react.

“I won't keep you long. The message is concise. What you do with it is entirely up to you.

“Alright.”

“You all know my story, what has been written is more or less close to the truth of things, and whether fact or metaphor, the result of it, as applies to me, and to the rest of you, remains more or less undebatable. What’s lacking, however, is the proper interpretation, conclusion, explanation—or perhaps more in line with your modern lingo, I should use the word spin.”

“You mean Genesis? The spin on Genesis?”

“Yes.” Here she allowed herself another slight smile. "The spin on Genesis.”

No adjective could describe the emotion I was feeling at that moment. I just found the nearest rock and sat down on it, ignoring its bumpy surface.

Her lovely face then took on an expression of great relief, as if she was about to unburden herself from something that had been much rehearsed.

“The human world,” she said, “is made of up two persuasions, each of which over the eons has attracted many followers, and each of which contains the same fallacy.

“Two? . . .”

“The love of power and the power of love.”

“Hmm.”  I thought a moment. “That sounds about right. And the fallacy?”

“That either by itself can ever be wholly effective.”

“And why is that?”

‘Simply put, power will always lack grace,” she said, glancing heavenward.

“And love?”

“And love,” she said, stretching out her arms as if to embrace the forest all around us, “lacks freedom.

“My mistake,”she continued, “was taking love for granted, not in choosing to be free. This holds true, of course, only so long as you continue to see me as a real person.” The sad smile again. “Actually, I sometimes think it would be far better if I were just a metaphor.”

“Would a metaphor have summoned me here, across time and space.”

‘I know you think you have made a clever point, but consider that, with your leanings toward the physical sciences, perhaps you haven’t fully appreciated the powers of metaphor.”

I still had a ton of questions. In fact, if I'd been the type to foam at the mouth in anticipation of indulging his curiosity, by now the front of my shirt would have been a mess. But I was already pretty certain that getting much satisfaction in that department was not to be.

I did manage to ask, “So it’s a hybrid of some kind we need then?”

“I have said all I came to say. Perhaps saying it was more for my own benefit than for yours. Who knows? In any case, it’s entirely up to you what you do with the information. You can rest assured that it comes from the heart and soul of truth so far as I can ascertain. Now, good luck and goodbye. Have a safe journey home.”

And then, just as you might expect, her form began to shimmer until it merged with the light that surrounded her, and she vanished, leaving me alone in the pristine forest perched on a hard rock, with a head full of wild, corroming thoughts, and a heart filled an ineffable longing.

Her last wish for me was fulfilled, though. I did make it back home in one piece. Intact enough, at least, to pass her message, for whatever it’s worth, along to you.

Lee Strauss (Copyright @ 2022)