Paradise Losst

Jade leaned back against the tree that sat surrounded by a few meters of grass with a sign that said, “Dedicated to the memory of Howard Mack.” Beyond the grass lay leveled land-vehicle parking and travel lanes, a shuttle landing port, and the sprawl of commerce they serviced.

The lone tree she leaned against used to be one of hundreds. An accidental orchard of sorts, propagated by the squirrels that escaped the bounds of their “escape-proof” enclosure at the research center.

Years upon years were spent on research to perfect a sustainable, balanced ecosystem, only to have the squirrels make it all moot. Escaping with a handful of newly received English walnuts, the squirrels had done more to shape this area of Eden in a decade than humans did in the preceding sixty years.

“Hey, Jade. Taking lunch?”

Jade turned to see who was speaking to her. Zed, her coworker at the deli. Like Jade, Zed’s skin was a pale brown with a reddish undertone, and they both had straight, dark-brown hair. However, Jade’s eyes were a deep brown while Zed’s were a piercing green.

“Yeah. Have a seat.”

Zed looked at the ground next to Jade. “I, uh, don’t wanna sit on a grave.”

Jade laughed. “No problem, then. I didn’t invite you to sit on my lap.”

Zed sat next to her. “You’re okay with sitting on a grave?”

“I should be,” she said, “since I dug it with my own hands.”

Zed narrowed their eyes. “You’re telling me you buried your own ancestor?”

“No. I buried my dog here when I was nine.”

“But the gravesite that the builders built around….”

“Was where I buried my dog Howard.” Jade chuckled. “It’s not my mother’s fault that the builders didn’t bother to ask what was in the grave she marked on their map.”

“I always thought that Howard Mack was one of your relatives. Maybe a grandparent or something.” Zed chuckled. “That’s weird.”

“What?”

“When I thought it was a person buried here, it creeped me out. Now that I know it was your dog, it just…makes me sad.”

“It was almost twenty years ago.” Jade sighed. “You know what makes me sad, Zed?”

“What?”

Jade swept her arm in a broad gesture at the monument to commerce around them. “All of this. I used to spend my autumns here picking walnuts. For as long as I can remember.”

“But the land belonged—”

“To the village,” Jade finished. “We all picked here, mostly for our own use, but a few people started selling their share to other villages.”

Zed raised a finger. “Wait, I remember as a kid getting ‘Lake Village Walnuts’ in a net bag.”

 “That’s the ones.”

“You think they’ll change the name?” Zed asked.

“Of what?”

“Lake Village. I mean, it’s already got the population to be classed as a city.”

Jade shook her head. “Nah. It’s too good of a draw. People think they’re moving to someplace quaint and special, when it’s really just another exurb with no urban connection.”

“I just moved here a couple years ago, but it’s already gotten bigger since then. I can’t imagine how much change you’ve seen being born here.” Zed shook their head. “What happened?”

“Some corporation slithered into the garden, offered the council a shiny apple, and it’s all gone to hell from there.”

“Oh my god, Jade read a poem?”

“Shut up. You’re the one with the English Lit degree.” She nudged them. “I thought I’d put it in a framework you’d understand.”

“Lot of good my degree does here,” Zed said. “I wanted to be a teacher, but there’s not enough openings.”

“Maybe you should try to incorporate your degree into your day-to-day, see if helps any.”

Zed laughed. “Wouldst thou prefer mayonnaise or mustard, milord?”

“Yeah, class up the joint a bit.”

Zed pulled a blade of grass and began to roll it in their fingers. “Did you really read Milton, though? Or just the Cliff’s Notes?”

“Nah, I read it. A few times.” Jade sighed. “It’s bullshit, you know.”

“Well, yeah. It’s a retelling of a religious myth.”

“The myth is bullshit, though.”

Zed flicked the rolled blade of grass out to the middle of the tiny lawn. “That’s the thing about myths…they’re all fake.”

“It’s an excuse to make women second-class citizens,” Jade said. “The snake would’ve had a better chance of tempting Adam first, by telling him it would make him rich and irresistible to Eve.”

“Oooh, taking a stab at masculinity. Bold move.”

“Taking a stab at the patriarchy.”

“We’re past that now,” Zed said.

“Really? What’s your proof?”

“I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem to be big deal now. Hell, even the President of Earth is a woman.”

“Not good enough. I’ll state my points.” Jade turned to face Zed. “First, men still outnumber women in positions of corporate and political power. Second, for as long as women were on the village council, they turned down every offer to develop.

“Third, it was an all-male council that decided to sell off the village land to a developer, despite a vote to the contrary just a few months before. They claimed it was because the village needed to ‘grow up’ or something.

“Fourth, every one of those men from the council, despite being voted out for their actions, are now wealthy, and several of them now hold important positions in the corporations that settled in here.”

Zed put an arm around Jade’s shoulders. “That’s why you’re my favorite friend. You’re not afraid to paint yourself into a corner.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s assume that the snake tempted Adam first. Why would Eve follow? According to Milton, Adam followed because he couldn’t bear to be separated from Eve.”

“If anything, Adam probably made a bunch of promises about how he’d change and let her take the lead sometimes. I don’t know.” Jade snorted and exclaimed in a goofy voice, “I can change, Eve, I swear!”

Zed laughed. “You know what? It doesn’t matter which one bit the apple first.”

“Why?”

“Because it was just meant to enforce the cultural stereotypes. If the culture had been matriarchal, Adam would’ve been created from one of Eve’s ribs, and would’ve been the one tricked by the serpent.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I think what it comes down to is simple, human greed. It’s like me…no gender required.”

“Goof.” Jade leaned her head on Zed’s shoulder. “I miss the orchard.”