Eggshells
Once, before everyone left, I built a raft made of sticks. The sticks were green, living and sticky with sap. They stained my feet with their berries.
I remember grinning at my parents as they waved supine and lazily, the yellow sun beating gently.
The river was young and strong. I fashioned an oar out of coconut shells and twisted branches. The green leaves shivered delightfully in the cold water. I called out to the birds – they yelled joyfully back. The tree climbers informed me when a sharp turn was ahead.
I stopped at a sandy landing bank. I ate fruit and nuts, scolding the tree climber who had began hoarding his food.
The sun began to set. Vibrant oranges, purples and red danced on the water. I laid peacefully. The birds sang goodnight to the day and to each other. When darkness fell, a spotted leopard and a brown bear cub came and laid beside me. I cuddled for warmth and whispered sleepy good-nights into the tufts of their ears.
In the morning God was there. Hello, I said, have you come to ride on my boat?
He shook his head, his eyes were watery and grey – the color of the deep bottom of the river.
Well, I said, it is a good day for a walk. Would you like to walk?
We walked through the garden. I said hello to the tree-climbers, the feathered, the furry and slippery. I talked to Snake, my old friend, and God’s eyes became orange and sharp, like the stones we used to cut the vines for our beds. I ended our conversation quickly.
We walked until the sun set again. My limbs, though strong and vibrant with health, began to tire. I sat by a small stream and waited for a furry one to comfort me. I grew cold. I turned to Him. I am cold, I said.
His eyes were dark, like freshly turned earth.
Were are my companions, I asked.
Kill them if you want their warmth.
I shivered mutely. Soon I rose and wrapped myself tight with leaves and vines. I slept alone.
In the morning, I waited for the feathered to show me the juiciest berries and nuts. My call was not answered.
I turned to God, lips quivering. They do not answer, I said.
His eyes were blue and green and followed the sky.
They answer. You do not understand.
I walked for two days and two nights. My limbs tired and weak from hunger, until I came to the clearing. My parents favorite clearing.
I grew fearful.
Where are my parents, I asked. My brothers, my sister?
He said nothing.
Where are my parents, I asked again.
He looked at me, the lines of his face shadowed against the brightness in his eyes. He inclined his head.
I saw them then… alien, unseeing, huddling mutely. An familiar voice, ragged with grief and longing called out.
I turned back to Him, my heart beating hard against the cage of my chest. The garden stilled, a circle of terrible silence stole the strength from my tongue.
He trailed my cheek with his finger. His face was filled with sorrow. His golden eyes spilled silver tears.
“Love”, He commanded gently.
A rush of air, a sharp wrench in my gut that pulled and snapped. I cried out, falling to my knees.
I felt, incomplete.
I closed my eyes, opened them. I looked at the garden anew – the sky, trees and earth was a cacophony of incomprehensible sound and shapes.
I shivered suddenly, then I looked down, gasping in shame.
I realized that I was naked.
