The Book of Steve
'Adam and Steve'
On the first day, exactly 6,128 years and 14 days ago, God created America. Realizing her mistake, She shrouded the land in darkness until such time as the Great Race (for there was ever only one) should spring forth and begin its endless intersquabbling.
On the second day She turned, and from the watery depths rose the Supercontinent Pangaea, replete with strange and exotic reptiles and plants, all very primitive in their make and function. She promptly hit the Supercontinent with a comet, making with Her lips a loud 'KAPEW' noise, wherein Pangaea sank beneath the waves. She was a young God, you see, and prone to tantrums.
"Not good enough," She intoned. Then, realizing that She was talking to Herself, She hastily created seven more continents with trees and cute furry animals.
On the third day, God began working on Her masterpiece. Rough draft complete, She tore off a hunk from the midsection that was magically almost as large as the original piece (She was, after all, God) and formed a much neater and slightly less hairy version, minus the messy bit between the legs.
"You're Adam," She said to the rough draft, now scratching it's behind and staring contentedly out on the dim world it would eventually bring to the brink of destruction.
"And you..." She searched through all of Creation for a most appropriate name, "shall be... Steve." And Steve was Fabulous, and all was well.
On the fourth day, after watching Creation stumble around in the dark for a while and bonking into itself, God had a quite literally Brilliant idea (like I said, She was God), and lo, there was light. Adam leapt on the opportunity to count and recount his toes, and try though Steve might, she could get very little by way of conversation out of her rough draft.
With God elsewhere in Creation (as She had put it, there was nothing like a 3 day vacation), Steve had very little to do but explore the very nicely mowed lawns and topiary that Eden had to offer. The second afternoon of her lonely rambles took her into an area of somewhat unkempt looking lawns. Not knowing anything as remarkably useful as fear, or even having a sense of foreboding, Steve rambled on until, rounding a corner, she walked smack into a creature walking about on its hind legs like it owned the place. Steve was naturally polite and, excusing herself, attempted to step around the odd creature. Once again she ran smack into it. Once again, she apologized and made to continue on her way. This time, however, the creature Spoke.
Now, other than Steve herself, Steve had only ever heard God speak. Steve had yet to learn that God's word could be taken with a grain of salt, and had nodded vigorously along whenever God ranted about "God damned Lucifer, the brat" or "Why won't all the flowers just be pink? I ordered pink!" God wasn't much for conversation, being the managerial type. Steve, therefore, was entirely unprepared for an actual conversation.
"You," said the creature, and its eyes grew wide, "you are like me."
Steve didn't understand what this meant, and shrugged while checking diligently on her toenails.
"Like you?" said Steve. "But we are all alike, all born of dust to live in the garden of Eden."
"No. You and I... we... have you never seen yourself?"
Now this was a ridiculous question. See oneself? With who's eyes?
Steve had seen a great deal of the young earth and it's glories; water, fish, trees, tigers, cows, the hill with the pond on the side of it instead of at the bottom (God scoffed at that one, but refused to explain beyond muttering something about the 'Law of Gravity'. Steve didn't always understand God.), the glorious sun and formidable moon. She had seen God in Her glory, walking amongst the trees with blossoming flowers trailing in her wake. She had seen Adam. At this thought she sighed, knowing not why. But herself? Steve laughed aloud, realizing as she did so that it was the First Laugh, and the Laugh echoed and reverbated to all corners of Creation, startling birds from their perches and rerouting rivers as wide as the Euphrates.
"Why, see myself? How could I see myself? I look upon everything else; why look upon myself? Even if I could, why would I want to?"
The creature shifted from foot to foot, scanning the horizon with an expression unfamiliar to Steve. Seemingly decided, it turned back to Steve.
"What if I took you to a place where you could gaze full upon yourself? Would you go?"
"Go where? Is it someplace new?" Steve's dormant curiosity was suddenly piqued. "Could there be such a place?"
"There most certainly is, and I will take you there. But first, let me introduce myself. I am Lilith."
To be continued...
