Free The First Detect-Eve by Robert T. Jeschonek

The First Detect-Eve
    By
    Robert T. Jeschonek
    The Tree of Knowledge didn’t exactly teach us everything we needed to know...like what to do with a dead man’s body, for example.
    From experience, we knew that when an animal died, its body would rot and stink after a while. We’d figured out it was best to burn or bury them, but I guess we still thought people were different. The Voice had told us we would die someday, but it never really sank in until we finally saw a dead man.
    My dead son, that is. Sweet, beautiful Abel, the light of my miserable life.
    When we found him, lying out in the field, we just didn’t know what to do with him. To tell you the truth, we didn’t even realize he was dead at first. He wasn’t breathing, and he wouldn’t respond when we shook him and spoke to him, but we weren’t too bright back in those days. Maybe he was just sleeping soundly. Maybe he was in a trance. Maybe it was some kind of magic. Anything was possible back then.
    I figured it out before my husband, but that didn’t come as a surprise. Adam had his good qualities, don’t get me wrong, but when God was handing out brains, he kind of got an early model, if you know what I mean. Not to mention that he was drunk a lot of the time, including that particular day. Unfortunately, he’d discovered the joys of fermented grapes before learning how to work out his problems constructively.
    Let’s just say, ever since we got thrown out of Eden, Adam had his share of problems.
    Anyway, once I finally got it through my head that something bad had happened to my boy, I got upset. My husband was no help, of course, because he was convinced Abel would wake up at any moment. There I was, in more pain than I’d experienced since Abel’s birth, just crying my eyes out...and Adam insisted on carrying Abel back to his bed at our camp so he’d be comfortable for the rest of his nap.
    After which, Adam proceeded to stretch himself out on his own bed of straw to sleep off the grapes.
    So I was left alone to mourn for my dead son, and it was terrible. Keep in mind, this was the first time I’d lost a loved one...the first time anyone had lost a loved one, in fact. These days, I’ve had a lot more experience with that kind of thing, which still doesn’t make it easy, but it’s never been as bad as that first time.
    I cried and screamed all afternoon and all night. Sometimes, I’d calm down a little and sit there in a daze, like nothing had happened...but then, I’d look at my dead boy again and remember everything in a rush, and I’d start right back up again with the weeping.
    Once, I pretended to convince myself that Adam had been right, and Abel was just sleeping after all. I knelt beside my boy and caressed his hand, calling his name in the darkness.
    This, of course, accomplished nothing. The crying caught up to me again, worse than ever.
    I think I cried for three days straight. My husband chimed in on day two, by which time Abel’s body had started to stink...but thanks to his stockpile of rotten grapes, Adam never went as far as I did. Before I knew it, he was snoring on his bed again.
    As for me, I eventually passed out from sheer exhaustion. By the time I keeled over, my stomach ached, my throat was sore, and my eyes burned like open wounds.
    Miraculously, when I awakened, I wasn’t sad anymore. I was angry.
    Furious would be a better word. More than anything in the world, I wanted to find out who had done this to my boy.
    And do the same to him.
    *****
    That much was clear to me, even then. What had happened to Abel was no accident.
    At first, it wasn’t obvious, because of the way he’d been killed. It wasn’t like someone had stabbed him with a sharp object or bashed his head in with a rock. There was no blood, no gaping wound.
    But his throat was bruised purple and crushed. There were two circular bruises in front, on either side of his windpipe, the size of fat grapes. Or thumbs.
    Though I’d never seen the