Short Story - THE DAY EVE SAID NO
Another wonderful challenge from my writer’s group. I was asked to write a historical story and twist it, so new and exciting things could happen. The thing is this, though…
I hate history.
Like…slept in class kind of hate it. The only reason I passed as a senior is that I convinced the teacher to let me go buy him a coolata every time it was time for class. I would literally be gone for almost half the class, and yet - I passed.
STILL!
This is a “historical” story, as historical as I get anyway, twisted up into something new in under 500 words.
THE DAY EVE SAID NO
“Take it,” the serpent intoned sweetly.
“Nope!” Eve said, lifting her nose into the air. “I’m not supposed to, and you know it.”
“But it’s delicious,” the scaly snake tempted, slithering his way over with the apple in tow. “Red. Round. Juicy. So yummy it will blow your little mind.”
Eve tipped her head higher, closing her eyes and refusing to look. “I said nope!”
A rush of leaves swirled around Eve’s feet, tumbling over the serpent’s scales, and working their crimson way towards the tree of life. It sat there, fat and beautiful, glowing with a light that seemed to purify everything around it. Even the air smelled sweeter here. More real. Crisper. Every inhale the serpent took filled its lungs with freshness even as a deep irritation pulled at its thrumming heart.
The snake thought for a moment. “What if I got Adam to do it?”
Eve’s unintended snort was crass but honest. “Yeah, I’d like to see you make Adam do anything.”
“So that’s a no, then…” The serpent relented with a sigh.
Before saying goodbye, Eve reached down and patted its head with heavy and innocent thwumps, making its headache even worse. God had tasked it with one thing: corrupt one of His creatures, and out of all the choices in the garden of Eden, the serpent wanted the humans. It liked their unique facial expressions, eyebrows scrunching and lips pursing. It would have kept it entertained over the next few centuries. Who else could it possibly fool?
“I’ll eat it.” The sound came out blunt and monotone, as if someone had taken a voice and squashed it.
The snake reared its head back to see who spoke. It was…a bush baby. A tiny bulbous-eyed male that the snake would have gladly eaten on any other day.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The apple.” The bush baby gestured. “I said I’ll eat it.”
The hiss as the snake’s tongue flicked past its lips allowed the moment to breathe, more leaves tumbling by, in oranges and yellows this time.
“You know this is the knowledge of good and evil, right?” the serpent said, trying to dissuade the thing. What fun would it be to corrupt a squishy hunk of meat?
“I know.” The bush baby shrugged. Walking closer, he held out a stubby paw. “I’m Carl.”
The snake dipped its tail into the creature’s awaiting palm and gave it a polite shake. With an internal groan and an Oh, what the hell, the snake said, “You’ll need to share this with your mate.”
“Can do.”
“And you’ll need to eat the whole thing.”
“Not a problem.” The bush baby made an a-ok sign with his tiny fingertips.
“And then we’ll have a chat later about what you come to think about the world.”
“Sounds good,” Carl said, scratching the back of his ear idiotically. “We can be friends.”
The snake hissed again, writhing to bring the apple over to the doomed male. “Oh yes, we absolutely will.”
