Fall from Grace

My over-riding recollection of that time is its softness. There werent many jagged edges or sharp corners, certainly fewer than you find in this abrasive age. Gliding through the undergrowth, I encountered scarcely any thorns or thistles, and I may claim to be something of an authority on what is - the myths about the thickness of my skin notwithstanding - rather a sensitive point.

What with it all being absolutely brand-new, I suppose there just hadnt been time for anything to dry up or harden. Wherever I slithered, things were caressingly fresh. It wasnt merely the tender green of the vegetation, though as Ive remarked, that was quite a boon in itself. No, the softness pervaded everything: the light, the air, the sunshine, the breeze, the sounds. There was a gentlenesss about it all. Round and soft, that just about sums it up.

Sums Her up too.

She wasnt my type, of course - right from the outset, each species kept to its own (which was for the best you must admit; look at the mule for heavens sake!) - and there was nothing about her to turn me on or arouse any ulterior thoughts in my mind, at least not that kind. But in place of the gut responses of sheer raw sex, I could fall back upon what you might call a valuable intellectual aptitude (heaven-sent, possibly, I really couldnt say). Without being over-modest about it, I would claim that, even at that early phase in my development, my tastes were already characterized by a certain maturity. I dont actually know how I came to acquire it, but its a fact: inexperienced as I was, I possessed a measure of sophistication which far transcended the judgement of your run-of-the-mill philistine with his "like/dont like." My approach, I would argue, was an incisive blend of analytical detachment with aesthetic warmth.

It was this critical poise which I brought to my observation of Her - a study which, under the circumstances of the time, naturally placed the principal stress upon the creative aspect. I found her well-crafted, with a high quality of artistry testifying to close attention to detail: the proportions were carefully judged, the lines deft, and the colouring, albeit subdued, applied with a sure hand. The result was pleasing to behold: white and shapely, soft, with round eyes and wavy hair and delicious curves and all kinds of other attractions clearly designed to appeal to the senses; among her own kind, I could well imagine her arousing keen interest.

Or so I thought until I looked at Him lolling nearby. (A well-built fellow, clean-cut and pleasant-looking; without any claim to her sensual opulence, he possessed his own endowments which I might characterize, without being vulgar, as nothing to sneeze at.) I was immediately struck -disconcerted would be a more apt term - by his attitude towards her: I would categorize it as warm and friendly, but hardly frenzied. He treated her with a kind of teddy-bearish affection, but no sign of excitement or whetted appetite. He was relaxed, but totally, if you see what I mean. You recall the term I employed: "lolling?" Thats it in an anatomical nutshell: not so much as a stirring of interest to be seen. Of course, at the time I didnt have any clear idea of what ought to be; but I definitely sensed that something was amiss.

It wasnt just him. She was the same: totally unaroused, with no hint of any agitation of the senses. She laughed and giggled a lot, flashing her lovely white teeth and tossing her hair, but it all seemed rather Girl Guide-ish, even if the uniform wasnt much in evidence. She was gentle and soft - indeed, glancing at him, softness seemed to be the order of the day - but, in her no less than in him, it was a bland mushiness lacking flavour or spice.

The mottled sunshine was breaking through the trees when I caught my first glimpse of them. They were romping around: running back and forth, picking flowers and weaving them into garlands, nibbling fruit straight off the trees, flinging themselves to the ground beside the spring to drink the waters. It was all very light-hearted; they played little games they made up as they went along, hide-and-seek and that kind of thing. Their mood was elated and high-spirited, and they were obviously having a grand time; there was a kind of easy companionship between them - but nothing more, if you see what I mean: absolutely no undertones. It was kids stuff - wholesome, theyd say nowadays - just good fun for its own sake, not leading anywhere. (In times to come, that kind of scene would inevitably lead up to the moment when one of its participants would say: "Your place or mine?" But not then, not at that particular moment in time.)

I know its difficult to grasp, particularly for those brought up on the notions now prevalent, but I think the best way of putting it is this: there was nothing intimate about their intimacy. There they were, two apparently healthy persons, male and female, besporting themselves in glorious isolation, in a saturnalian setting of almost archetypical perfection - and, moreover, in apparel ideally designed to arouse and inspire - and it all led to nothing. Nothing - well - piquant. Just to give you an inkling: she was chasing him - they were playing Catch - and when he swerved and dodged out of her way, she, without a moments hesitation, reached out and grabbed him by it!

Just like that. As though it were an elbow or toe or something of the sort.

From what I know now, his reaction should have been dramatic. At the very least, her grasp ought to have raised some response on his part, if you see what I mean.

No way. Not a thing. Nothing stirred.

She might just as well have grabbed him by his ear or hair.

He merely gave a little squeal and broke free, bouncing - and I mean, bouncing - away.

Bizarre, I thought. Very strange. I began to have my doubts about this whole Creation thing. Was there some basic flaw in the planning? Did the design meet specifications? Had there been a ghastly blunder? (He was facing her, just out of reach, his smile boyishly teasing; I dropped my gaze from his face to his middle and the word that came to mind was "flop.")

Unbelievable. Surely no-one could have envisaged humanity being launched on its course by a couple of gays?!

This matter had to be looked into.

Uncoiling myself, I glided away, seeking a quiet corner where I could think it over. I made smooth progress through the undergrowth, parting the grass and creepers, wriggling under bushes and over protruding tree-roots. As I advanced, the voices of the two humans receded until they became almost inaudible. (There were birds chirping overhead, and I passed a mouse or two and a couple of rabbits; but in keeping with the protocol of those distant days of innocence, they didnt bother me and I didnt bother them).

Reaching a small clearing which seemed as good a place as any, I was about to curl up for a few moments quiet reflection when I spotted the plants...

Ive never been a great botanist, and flora arent my province, but there was no mistaking the great bushes (the official chronicle, which has achieved wide circulation, employs the term "tree"; this is without doubt an error, though understandable in view of their stature). In future times, such a fine plantation would be better camouflaged; but in those days of innocence, when "law-enforcement agency" was an unknown concept, matters were more casual. Basking in the bright sunshine, they stood out in all their splendour: handsome specimens, tall and well-developed, their five-pointed leaves of a lush green interspersed with paler hues marking bunches of flowers and seed clusters.

I poised there for a moment, admiring the sight, when something suddenly caught my eye.

I stared at the lower stems...

There could be no doubt. Someone had been harvesting. There were as-yet unhealed scars where the leaves had been torn off - evidently with an unpractised hand because long slivers of stem had also been ripped away. Exercised upon less sturdy plants such savage treatment would have been fatal, bleeding the sap and permitting penetration of fungi. "Hell!" I reflected, briefly giving way to nostalgia. "Somebody must have been devilish eager for a smoke." Whoever could have been guilty of such barbarity? I wondered. In view of the unbridled force evidently applied, I briefly toyed with a wild suspicion... Oh God, no...

But I soon dismissed such unworthy thoughts from my mind, which I turned instead to reconsider the couple I had so recently observed at their innocent gamboling. It was all very vivid in my mind: he and she and the woods and the soft turf and the intoxicating scent of spring in the air, and all that... And nothing doing.

It seemed such a waste.

I took the matter as a personal challenge.

Was there nothing I could do to help matters along?

I raised my eyes to the great plants and savoured the pregnant promise of their softly sensual leaves.

When I got back, the man was nowhere to be seen. He may have gone off to climb a tree or take a nap or something, I really didnt know and cared even less. The main thing was, hed left her on her own, and that seemed promising. For all my lack of experience, I somehow guessed that the proposition would be better popped on a one-to-one basis.

Anxious not to waste the opportunity, I glided over to her, wracking my brains for an appropriate way of striking up a conversation.

Slithering to within earshot, I spoke up.

"Whats a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" I demanded, boldly hitting upon a rather original gambit which, so I understand, has since achieved considerable popularity. "How would you like me to show you something youve never seen before?"

I didnt quite catch her response, but it sounded something like: "Aw gowwon...!"

I led the way, taking care to stay a little way ahead - she was lightly built but all the same, I didnt fancy the idea of her stepping on my tail. She followed me willingly enough, tripping along with nimble steps.

After a few minutes, I halted. "Here it is!" I cried triumphantly, turning my head to her in anticipation of her exclamation of delight.

But instead, all she managed was something that sounded like: "Aw!"

"Aw?" I echoed rather foolishly, taken by surprise.

"Izzat it?" she demanded petulantly.

"Uhuh," I confirmed, puzzled by her evident disappointment. I endeavoured to fire her with my own enthusiasm. "Isnt it striking? Intriguing? Exciting? Doesnt it grab you?" I peered at her. "Whats wrong?"

She shook her head. "I seen it," she mumbled dully, "When I cum. We wuz told - its a no-no - All the rest is OK, e says, eat and enjoy. But not this, e says, not thisun, keep orf, e says..."

"E? Er - He?"

She jerked an explanatory thumb in a vaguely upwards direction. "Its a killer, e says. Dont eat it e says, dont so much as touch." Her voice dropped to a whisper: "Lest ye die, e says."

"When was this?" I demanded.

"Afore I cum," she said dully.

I stared at her in surprise, perplexed by her contradictory account. How could she have heard a ban proclaimed before her arrival? But for the moment, that was neither here nor there. The discrepancy, however puzzling, was best left to be quibbled over by historians.

With that, her tale, however crude its presentation, was clear enough to revive the suspicions I had entertained earlier. I flung another glance at the savaged stems. The finger pointed in a clear direction - that indicated by her thumb...

...Which would explain the prohibition, I deduced. A bit petty of the Old Man, trying to keep all this bounty to Himself; theres enough to go round, surely...

It didnt take me long to reach a decision.

No! I resolved: such selfishness is not to be taken - not even by me - lying down. Ill teach the old egoist a lesson he wont forget.

Losing no time, I flung her a crafty smile. "Awe cummon," I hissed, resorting to terms she would find familiar. "Youre chicken!"

"E says Lest ye die," she reiterated stolidly.

"Dont give me that shit," I riposted cheerfully, "You try this stuff, its a real eye-opener. Youll feel - divine!" (The official record, evidently drawn up by some pompous bureaucrat, reads somewhat differently; but I guarantee that those were the actual words employed.)

She didnt really understand what I was saying - I think the words were unfamiliar - but she got the gist. Anyway, it didnt take long to talk her around.

She was munching the second bunch of leaves when the man unexpectedly appeared. Seeing what she was at, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide in alarm. He opened his mouth, as though about to reprimand her. But then, catching a glimpse of her expression, he must have thought better of it and stood there speechlessly, gazing at her in a blend of dismay and curiosity.

And ultimately, when she, noticing his presence, held out a handful of leaves, he hesitated only momentarily before stretching out his hand to snatch them. "Hm," he mumbled, chewing vigorously, "Hmmmmmm."

Silently, I slithered a few paces away before turning to survey them. This was the big moment. It would be now or never.

For a long moment, no sound was to be heard but the steady chomping of teeth.

And then it started.

She was the first, lowering her lashes to fling a sidelong glance towards him; without warning, she broke into a loud giggle.

Uncomprehending, he returned her gaze, staring at her as though seeing her for the first time. Suddenly, a dark flush flooded his countenance; his eyes were bright and his lips parted with a strange eagerness...

She giggled again, dropping her gaze to stare at his midriff with a growing fascination.

Following the direction of her regard, he too looked down, and a rich red blush covered his face, going on to diffuse his entire body.

She giggled yet again, her eyes flashing. For a brief fraction of a second, she tore her gaze away from his middle to survey me, running her eyes over my entire length from head to tail. (Thats it, I thought; the birth of a Freudian image!)

But then her eyes turned to him, moist with desire, and when he took a step forward, she met him halfway, and now they were both smiling. A wild smile. A knowing smile.

After that, matters took their own course, as was to be expected. Primordial passion erupting, you might say. In view of their common lack of experience, I must say the performance was marked by a relatively swift acquisition of proficiency, obviously helped along by a high measure of enthusiasm.

Later, the inevitable happened: the Old Man turned up, getting absolutely livid when He found out about the fun theyd had in His absence. I suppose it was plain jealousy (thats one of His worst traits: He doesnt deny it, even boasts about it). But above all, I suspect Him of being peeved over having His plants raided. Otherwise, theres no accounting for the sheer vindictiveness of the sentence He handed down, on the two of them and on me.

The verdict is in the record, and I wont go into the rights and wrongs of it just now.

But it did Him no good, of course. Matters were well beyond his control.