Christmas Outside of Eden | Page 3

living
creatures the Man discovered himself to be the most incompetent.
Often and often he would creep to the gold-locked gates and peer
between the bars, hoping to see God walking there as formerly. But
God walked no more. As He had climbed back into Heaven, He had
destroyed the sky-blue stairs behind Him. There was no way in which
the Man could reach Him to ask His advice or pardon.
But it was the Woman who caused the Man most unhappiness. It wasn't
that she despised and blamed him. He'd grown used to that since
leaving Eden. Everybody, except the dog and the robin, despised and
blamed him. The Woman caused him unhappiness because she was
unwell--really unwell; not just an upset stomach or a headache. In Eden
she had always been strong and beautiful, like sunlight leaping on the
smooth, green lawn--so white and pink and darting. Her long gold hair
had swayed about her like a flame; her white arms had parted it as
though she were a swimmer. Her eyes had been shy and merry from
dawn to dusk. She had been a darling; never a cross word had she

spoken. The furry creatures of the woods had been her playmates and
the birds had perched upon her shoulders to sing their finest songs.
Now she was wan and thin as a withered branch. Like the elephant
uprooting trees, she often lost her temper. Sometimes she was sorry for
her crossness; more often she wasn't. When the Man offered her things
to eat, no matter what trouble he'd taken to get them, she'd say she
wasn't hungry. And yet he loved her none the less for her perverseness.
He was so afraid.... He couldn't have told you of what he was afraid, for
nobody had had time to die in the world as yet. He was filled with
dread lest, like God, she might vanish and walk the earth no more. So
he cudgelled his brains to find things to cure her. He invented wrong
remedies, just as in Eden he had invented wrong answers to the
animals' questions. He was never certain whether they would do her
good or harm; but he always assured her gravely that, if she'd only try
them, she'd feel instantly better. She never did; on the contrary she felt
worse and worse. Perhaps the wilderness was the cause. Perhaps it was
the forbidden fruit she had eaten. Perhaps it was a little of both, plus a
touch of Eden-sickness. She had never known an hour's ill-health up to
the moment when she had eaten the fruit and been turned out of the
garden. The poor Man was distracted. He didn't care what he did or
whom he robbed, if only he might hear her singing again and see her
once more smiling.
What he did wasn't tactful; it only made the animals hate him--all
except the dog and the robin--and brought new dangers about his head.
It was the month of October and nights were getting shivery. He had
scraped together fallen leaves to make a bed for her and had woven a
covering of withered grasses. In spite of this, from the setting of the sun
till long after its rising, all through the dark hours her teeth chattered.
She cried continually; every time she cried, out in the jungle the hyena
scoffed. The Man rarely got any rest until full day. All night he was
rubbing her back, her feet and hands in an effort to make her warm. As
a consequence he slept late and accomplished hardly any work. He
didn't even have time to notice how all the animals were building
houses. The Woman was so fretful that he never dared leave her for
longer than an hour. The poor thing was forever complaining that God
might have made her out of something better than a rib, if He was
going to make her at all.

It was a colder night than usual, when the Woman was crying very
bitterly and the hyena was doing more than his ordinary share of
scoffing, that the idea occurred to the Man. The hyena was scoffing
because he was comfortable; he was comfortable because of the heavy
coat that he wore. The Man determined to teach him a lesson by taking
his coat from him. It was another remedy; he hoped that if he clothed
the Woman with it, she might grow strong. Telling her that he wouldn't
be gone for long, he padded stealthily away, followed by the dog, and
faded out of sight among the shadows.
They found the hyena in an open space which the elephant had been
clearing the day before. He was seated on his hind legs, gazing up at
the moon with his fine warm