Even those who are lost can find their way home with the right guidance.And I could—andwould—be Cain’s version of a blessed amulet, warding away those who would hurt and consume him for their own gain.
Chapter 27
Cain
We strolled throughman-made walkways, meandering around biomes of animals in their enclosures. From the penguins of the polar ice caps to the mighty lions of the savannah, Phoebe pulled me along, pointing out specific evolutionary features which had helped the animals survive.
Her exuberance and passion for this place infected me, just like her bright smiles and even brighter hair.
With the cleansing rain earlier this morning, the fresh air revitalized my sense of smell and for the first time in a while, I let the memories in, of those early days with my parents, before everything turned so wrong.
Though they’d been tossed out of Eden, they’d retained the knowledge and expertise of caring for nature and had passed it on to my brother and me. Abel had been better with animals, and I’d been skilled with cultivating the gardens. With studious care, I’d created splendid forests and jungles on our land in Nod.
And then Abel had to ruin everything.
I tried to shut down the thought as soon as it bloomed in my head, but his dead eyes and bloody mouth flashed in a memory, stabbing pain into my heart.
He’d always needed to prove he was the better son.
Perhaps he’d been right.
“Come on, slowpoke.” Phoebe tugged my hand. “The elephants are right around the corner. Or at least they used to be, back when Dad and I used to visit.”
“Your father was a good man, then?” Her voice, smooth and light, soothed the turmoil in my soul. I could listen to her talk forever. In a small way, I envied her obviously great childhood. Even though she’d lost a parent, she’d always been surrounded by love and acceptance.
“The best.” Her smile dropped a fraction, and she fingered her necklace. “This place is the last time I saw him. Wish I could remember what happened.”
I stopped in front of a half-circle enclosure, its size at least an acre. Several gray elephants trundled along, lifting logs with their trunks or wallowing in a wide pool of water.
“I could see if someone tampered with your memories.”
“Uh, not sure I want you poking around in my head with that creepy shadow power.” She gnawed on a fingernail, moving her stare from my face to the animals then back.
“If there’s a memory wipe in place, I can’t remove it, but I can rule out any kind of demonic tampering.” Inwardly, I cringed, not wanting to remind her of what I represented, yet also needing to help her.
“Would it hurt, like how Malachi—”
