Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [31]
“I’ve been reading in Genesis lately, and just yesterday I studied the chapter about the fall. I noticed something that I’d never thought about before. Funny, isn’t it? You’ve read a passage so many times. And suddenly you see something new.”
Vanessa fidgeted with her wedding ring, staring at it as she turned it back and forth; Maureen sat as rigid as a statue and rather than look at Sherry, she too gazed elsewhere—out toward the view of St. John’s Bay again. Only Emilie stared warily into Sherry’s eyes.
“You know how it goes … God tells them the curse, he makes clothes for them out of animals’ skins, the first blood sacrifice.”
Maureen balled her hands into fists so tight that her fingernails stabbed her palms.
“In the past, I’ve always skimmed right by that.” Sherry shook her head. “But this is what struck me yesterday.” She stopped, leaning forward over the table. The dramatic pause drew Maureen’s and Vanessa’s eyes to her face now, joining Emilie’s. “The skins didn’t just magically appear on Adam and Eve. God had to kill those animals. And then this possibility hit me: We don’t really know for sure since Scripture doesn’t say, but I doubt that God shielded them from having to watch what he had to do. Think about it. Would he take the animals elsewhere, protecting Adam and Eve from the horrible thing he had to do? Would he have gone to a different part of the garden, killed the animals there and then brought those skins back to Adam and Eve?”
Each question drove home her point. Maureen flinched at the reality Sherry so graphically painted for them.
“Do you suppose he simply put the skins on them, ones all cleaned up and minus any hint of the blood that had been shed? Like the coats and purses and shoes that we buy, you suppose?” She smirked then, adding a small laugh. “Considering the immense gravity of what they’d done—the grievous sin they’d committed—would he actually have desired they not make the connection of their sin to the actual killing of an animal?”
Maureen glanced at Emilie and Vanessa; their gazes remained fixed on Sherry, eyes widened. Vanessa’s lips were slightly open, but Emilie’s mouth was set in a grim, hard line.
“And then it dawned on me: Adam had named those animals. Naming had major significance in biblical times. Surely Adam felt honored to be given that task as God brought them before him, one by one. How he must’ve loved it—and loved those animals, too. And now … now one or more of them had to die … because of him. Because of what he’d done.”
Sherry shivered as if she’d felt a chill. “Can you feel the foreshadowing of Christ there? Adam knew his beloved animals were innocent. They hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet they died. When it was his fault.”
Tears filled Sherry’s eyes and she bowed her head, embarrassed by the naked display of feelings. Maureen blinked back tears also, but noticed a rustle of activity next to her. It was Emilie. Gathering purse and keys, pushing her chair away from the table. Maureen reached out for her, questioning, “Emilie?”
From Vanessa, “Where … why are you—?”
The only response was a slight shake of her head, a clear warning. Before any of them could say another word she had snaked through the crowded restaurant. And was out of sight.
The abrupt and unexpected exit jolted the remaining three. Sherry folded her napkin and put it on the table, stuttered out, “It’s—it’s completely my fault. I don’t know what I was thinking—clearly I wasn’t thinking at all.”
“No.” Maureen interrupted, her voice shaky. “It’s my fault, Sherry. Emilie and I had a difficult conversation yesterday. It was about blame … it came out all wrong and I never got the chance to set it right.”
“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come with all the grading I have … I’m behind and …” Sherry’s voice trailed off. She looked up at Vanessa and then Maureen. “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I? I hope … I hope our friendship can survive this.” She bit her lip, rose, and walked away.
When