Apples to Eden3

Apples to Eden

“He who chokes to death on eternity, thrives on hunger.“ Folk Saying

The queen hurried over to a little white dome built at the edge of the embankment near the tree, while guards cleared the way for her through the bystanders. There by the river she packed her son for over an hour in mud. The caretaker in charge of the little shrine provided her with the prayers that usually accompanied such mud-bath purifications. The queen followed each step according to the instructions. The prince was even offered a drink, with which the queen insisted he gargle. When the prince made faces, everybody present heard the queen cry out, “Drink it! It’s for your own good!” At this cry, the onlookers who had gathered about the place for their own baths, or simply for picnics, came over to have a closer look. They had never seen anybody from the royal family, let alone royalty, consuming the sanctity of the river. They hence hailed the event as god’s own hand extending to the prince and queen. Immediately after, a welcoming party took place at the site with food garnered from picnic baskets, but the queen managed to slip away with her son, gliding swanlike back to the royal quarters.

When he learned about the ritual his son had endured, the king turned very red indeed. “Don’t even say it!” interrupted the queen before he could speak. “The holy water of Eden can but cure our lad.”

“Holy?” scoffed the king, “It’s mud!”

“Mud from Eden,” countered the queen sternly, while peering at the king who stalked through the guest suite, cursing and accusing.

“I can’t believe you would do something so irresponsible with our son!” he bellowed.

“Well, if you can’t believe, you can’t believe,” retorted the queen, still calm, though keeping her distance from the king with a few backward steps.

This mention of belief halted the king in his tracks, for he suddenly became aware that any misstep might backfire. Any unholy statement regarding Eden could easily be spread, casting doubt on his faith as well as his honesty. His majesty therefore abstained from uttering the more frightful phrases crossing his mind. “After all,” he thought to quiet himself, “Nothing bad can come of this. We can always cure a touch of dysentery.”

Dysentery still looming in his mind, the king summoned shortly thereafter the advisor appointed to manage the propriety of Eden, and conferred with him about matters of cleanliness. Unaware that the king was really inquiring about the possible ill effects of the muddy water, the advisor went through a long description of the ailments affecting Eden’s residents. He did briefly touch on the river, and calmed the king’s curiosity by noting that not only the water but everything around it was virulently unclean as well. “No reason,” he quipped, “to get sickened over one patch of Eden, when our whole city is unhealthful.” This remark, while spurring his majesty to speed up his cleanliness campaign, at the same time somehow made him feel less worried about his son, since the mud was just one of a myriad risks.

The king wrapped up his visit to Eden, and the royal entourage proceeded back to the palace. The trip had taken place only a few weeks before the prince’s thirteenth birthday, and as the birthday approached, clear signs of a cure embellished the lad’s face. He appeared rosy-cheeked, visibly put on weight and at every moment showed new eagerness to play outside and to discover the world. Few were surprised, because most believed in the healing power of Eden. Yet the king and queen felt a shared but unexpressed disquietude. The prince’s newfound health, albeit welcome, nevertheless knocked the king out of tune.

When the queen would blissfully mention her visit to Eden without overtly linking it to the prince’s health, the king would angrily dust the front of his robe, as if to brush away any possible connection between Eden and the cure. The queen would then interject ever so politely to remind him that she hadn’t mentioned a connection, but if his majesty insisted on denying such a link between events, she would seriously consider doing so. One of these fights progressed to just this point when the king bellowed, “By the gods! Say exactly what you mean!”

“I wouldn’t want to contradict your highness,” his sweetheart replied, “But the truth is that Eden cured our son.”

“It did not,” said the king, taking ample time between each word. “The boy simply outgrew his frailness.” Nothing could be said or done to weave the royal couple back together as far as the health of their son was concerned. Each departed in a different direction of thought, though still living under the same roof.

One day, turning in a huff away from the queen, the king indulged himself in a loud long laugh, then turning back to make sure she was not listening, whispered, “If that dirty water cured our son, then an apple from the tree I planted will grant me eternity.” He chuckled at his own curious thought, and added, “I can’t believe she believes that I could believe such a thing!” On and on he chuckled, though not for too long, because the thought of the apple had taken hold. The thought turned all night in the king’s mind, golden and crisp, until by early the next morning he had resolved to pay a secret trip to Eden. This decision was shared with no one; he simply rode his horse straight through the dust until he had entered Eden, and reached the apple tree. A snake slithered across his path. No one was by the tree at that moment. His royal majesty reached up with both hands, grabbed an apple, wiped it on his tunic, mounted his horse and just as simply trotted away, straight back to the garden of his palace. There, quite alone, he knelt down before proceeding to take a bite.

Oddly enough with the first bite of that apple, the king choked and could not clear his throat. In fact he could breathe no air at all due to the obstruction. Waving his hands to seek help, he suddenly found himself facing the angel of death, who happened to be dallying on the palace lawn. “Hey, king,” called the angel with a breezy laugh. “You’re a lucky fellow, for blessed is he who chokes to death on eternity.”