"Nancy Kress - Unto the Daughters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kress Nancy)

"Cain," Adam says firmly.
"All right, Adam."
 He will never know she was disappointed.
****
"Eve," I say. 'Listen."
She is bathing the two boys in the river, in the shallows just before the river splits into four parts and
leaves the garden. Cain is diligently scrubbing his small penis, but Abel has caught at some seaweed and
is examining how it hangs over his chubby fists. He turns it this way and that, bending his head close. He
is much more intelligent than his brother.
"Eve, Adam will be back soon. If you'd just listen ...
"Daddy," Abel says, raising his head. He has a level gaze, friendly but evaluative, even at his age. He
spends a lot of time with his father. "Daddy gone."
"Oh, yes, Daddy's gone to pick breadfruit in the west!" Eve cries, in a perfect ecstasy of maternal
pride. "He'll be back tonight, my little poppets. He'll be home with his precious little boys!"
Cain looks up. He has succeeded in giving his penis the most innocent of erections. He smiles
beatifically at Abel, at his mother, who does not see him because she is scrubbing Abel's back, careful
not to drip soapstone onto his seaweed.
"Daddy pick breadfruit," Abel repeats. "Mommy not."
"Mommy doesn't want to go pick breadfruit," Eve says. "Mommy is happy right here with her little
poppets."
"Mommy not," Abel repeats, thoughtfully.
"Eve," I say, "only with knowledge can you make choices. Only with truth can you be free. Four
thousand years from now -- "
"I am free," Eve says, momentarily startled. She looks at me. Her eyes are as fresh, as innocent, as
when she was created. They open very wide. "How could anyone not think I'm perfectly free?'
"If you'd just listen -- "
"Daddy gone," Abel says a third time. "Mommy not."
"Even thirty seconds of careful listening -- "
"Mommy never gone."
"Tell that brat to shut up while I'm trying to talk to you!"
Wrong, wrong. Fury leaps into Eve's eyes. She scoops up both children as if I were trying to stone
them, the silly bitch. She hugs them tight to her chest, breathing something from those perfect lips that
might have been "Well!" or "Ugly!" or even "Help!" Then she staggers off with both boys in her arms,
dripping water, Abel dripping seaweed.
"Put Abel down," Abel says dramatically. "Abel walk."
She does. The child looks at her. "Mommy do what Abel say!"
I go eat worms.
****
The third child is a girl, whom they name Sheitha.
Cain and Abel are almost grown. They help Adam with the garden dressing, the animal naming,
whatever comes up. I don't know. I'm getting pretty sick of the whole lot of them. The tree still has both
blossoms and fruit on the same branch. The river still flows into four exactly equal branches just beyond
the garden: Pison, Gihon, Hiddekel, Euphrates. Exactly the same number of water molecules in each. I
stop thinking He's theatrical and decide instead that He's compulsive. I mean -- really. Fish lay the exact
same number of eggs in each river.
Eve hasn't seen Him in decades. Adam, of course, walks with Him in the cool of every evening.
Now the two boys go, too. Heaven knows what they talk about; I stay away. Often it's my one chance
at Eve, who spends every day sewing and changing diapers and sweeping bowers and slicing breadfruit.
Her toes are still pink curling delicacies.
"Eve, listen -- "