God Nudged Him

by Darby Mitchell

God nudged him.

The Creature did not move.

“Move!” said God

The Creature smiled.

God frowned. God asked the Creature, “What’s the matter with you?”

The Creature blinked.

God harrumphed. “Hey, we’re talking to you, four eyes!”

The Creature sighed at the apparent — absolutely no pun intended here or anywhere else in this story — interruption, then pronounced pontifically, “We are completely in solitude, and in solitude we are complete.”

God kicked him.

The Creature smiled beatifically.

God lifted the Creature’s eyelids, first one, then another, then another, then the other, and peered inside. The eyes were dark, unreflecting.

“Something’s amiss here,” mumbled God. “What could we have done wrong? So God pulled from His/Her pocket the single-page instruction sheet. God read the instructions aloud, distinctly, slowly, so as to be sure He/She hadn’t missed any little detail:

First, trackless void, darkness, face of the deep — hover. — Did that.
Second, light the light. — Check.
Third, water here, water there, not all together in one place. — Check.
Fourth, garden — flora consisting of trees, shrubs, little tiny flowers, miniscule things too numerous to mention. — Got it.
Fifth, separate the lights. — We did that.
Sixth, whales, mermaids, whatnot, followed by little flying things, followed by stomping puffing things with horns. — Check.
Now this one. If we get through this one, we get a weekend.

The Lord God kicked the Creature’s butt. “What’s the matter with you, anyway?”

The Creature smiled.

God scratched His/Her head. “Ah!” said God. The answer is always simple. “Roll over.”

The Creature rolled onto its side.

God searched for, and then found, the almost imperceptible length of fold that ran the length of the Creature’s body. “Aha!” said God.

And so God deftly put His/Her hands on either side of the fold, put His/Her foot against the small of the Creature’s back, and pulled.

The Creature frowned.

God pulled harder.

The Creature cried out in pain.

God pulled harder yet.

Light came into the Creature’s eyes. The eyes blinked — reflectively. The Creature, looking right at his Creator, said, with a tiny bit of anger, “What’d you do that for?”

And that’s when, right there, very there, that’s the precise moment when the Creature saw the bright and shining thing that was beside him in the open air, where no bright and shining thing had ever been before.

“Oh, my!” said Adam.

The thing beside him smiled. It was a moment to be savored by all the time-keepers in heaven.

Adam stood, then pulled the smiling thing beside him to her feet. “You are mine!” he told her.

The second Creature blinked.

Adam looked into her eyes.

Adam strutted his stuff in front of her. “What could be more obvious?” he asked her. He winked at her.

She blinked, uncomprehending.

Adam put his mouth next to her ear: “Halloooooooo! I’m talking to you, two eyes!”

The second Creature fluttered her eyelids at him.

Adam smiled into her eyes.

The second Creature’s eyes widened. She stepped back. The light of comprehension came into her eyes. She ran.

“Wait!” cried Adam, and ran after her.

Eve ran faster.

Adam ran faster still.

And so the Race was on.