My eyes flutter open. Have I slept? It feels like only moments ago that I stretched out onto this mound of grass. Uncertainty had pressed upon my chest like the hand of God settling me against the ground. Now, I blink at the vibrant green canopy above, the leaves etched in contrast to the brilliant blue of the sky. I sigh at the comforting sight, and the air is sweet with blossoming flowers.
A mass of white and yellow blooms lift their happy countenance on vines which race up the tree. A fluffy little creature—a squirrel, I believe—trounces around the trunk as if making a game of avoiding the petals.
Peace, love, contentedness . . . they swirl inside as tangible as the grass beneath me. They’re a natural response to the communion I experience each day with my Father and His creation; even the breeze and sunshine seem to sing in response to the joy I feel.
And yet when my Father recently visited, He revealed that He wasn’t quite finished with the world.
“But it’s perfect!” I told Him. “I love it here.”
He only grinned. “Do you enjoy the many animals I’ve given you?”
I happened to be stroking a sleek black panther curled at my feet. “Of course! They’re beautiful, powerful, even playful. There are so many. Everyday I discover new creatures to name.”
He nodded. “I thought you’d enjoy the task. But look about,” he gestured at the menagerie of animals that gather round whenever Father visits. “There are many of each creature.”
“Yes. Especially the rabbits.” I had been watching a colorful group of fat, floppy-eared rabbits nibble their way through a patch of clover. “They’re everywhere.”
Father laughed, making furry ears perk up, and shining, reflective eyes peek through the foliage. “Indeed.” He glanced at me, suddenly serious. “But you, Adam. Wouldn’t you enjoy having someone like yourself?”
What did He mean? “I have you.”
Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. Although we share some physical similarities, I was as different from Father as the rabbit was from me.
“True.” He grinned. “But you don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Missing?” I had never heard this word.
“Ah, never mind.” He chuckled softly. “It’s something people will say in the future.”
“People? Future?” More new words.
He had tossed His head back with a deep, meaningful laugh. “Adam, I think it’s time for a nap.”
That was yesterday. Or, maybe this morning. I’m not certain. But I know I’ve not felt so refreshed since Father placed me in this garden, so I must have slept.
What’s that? I sit up, listening. I can identify the footfalls of the many animals, but I’ve never heard this particular sound pattern before. It’s joined by another, which I do recognize: Father.
I leap to my feet, excited to see Him. Crossing the little clearing, I stop with a gasp.
The most amazing creature is stepping out from between the trees. A creature like me. Though, not entirely. This woman—the word springs to mind unbidden—this woman is full and soft and curved even as I am all hard angles and flatness.
I see her assessing my angles as she approaches.
Without taking my eyes from hers, I am aware of Father following behind her. I sense how pleased He is with my reaction. Gratitude wells at His great care. This woman is exactly, precisely, completely what I need. My fingers drift to my ribs, remembering what He had planned to do.
“Hello,” I whisper, reaching my hands toward her, unable to move. She closes the gap between us. Something in my chest is pounding hard, as if there’s an animal trying to get out.
Her fingers reach for mine and her touch makes me hot and cold and thrilled and happy and—well—even more happy than I’ve ever been. Her lips part into a smile. They are pink and perfect. Like the strawberries that grow alongside the creek. I wonder if they will taste as sweet if I put my mouth upon them.
Our fingers twine like the vines on the nearby tree. Can she feel my body vibrate in rhythm to the beating inside my chest?
Father stands beside us, grasping our hands with his own. I feel approval and blessing in His touch.
I look to Him. “She is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. What a gift! Thank you.”
His brows lift in that playful, mischievous way He has. “Indeed she is, Adam. My creation is always good, but you two are special. You both are very good.”
Love surges in response to the love that emanates from Him.
“I’ll be back to check on you soon.” He squeezes our fingers. “Get to know each other in the meantime. Talk. Laugh. Explore. Be fruitful and multiply.” He winks. “Trust me, it’s going to be epic. You two will make history.”
Author Heather L.L. FitzGerald writes from her home in Texas, while dreaming of being back in the Pacific Northwest, where she grew up. When she’s not drinking copious amounts of coffee or planning her next escape, she’s taming dragons, teaching leprechauns manners, and judging animal tricks among her gnome friends. Many of these antics can be discovered in The Tethered World Chronicles, Heather’s award winning YA Fantasy trilogy.
