“All the more reason to care for myself and others.
All the more reason to create Earthseed communities and shape God together. `God is Trickster, Teacher, Chaos, Clay.’ We decide which aspect we embrace— and how to deal with the others.”
“Is that what you want to do? Set up Earthseed communities?”
“Yes.”
“And then what?”
There it was. The opening. I swallowed and turned a little so that I could see the burned over area. It was so damn ugly. Hard to think anyone had done that on purpose.
“And then what?” Travis insisted. “A God like yours wouldn’t have a heaven for people to hope for, so what is there?”
SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 2027
I think Travis Charles Douglas is my first convert.
Zahra Moss is my second. Zahra has listened as the days passed, and as Travis and I went on arguing off and on. Sometimes she asked questions or pointed out what she saw as inconsistencies. After a while, she said. “I don’t care about no outer space.
You can keep that part of it. But if you want to put together some kind of community where people look out for each other and don’t have to take being pushed around, I’m with you. I’ve been talking to Natividad. I don’t want to live the way she had to. I don’t want to live the way my mama had to either.”
I wondered how much difference there was between Natividad’s former employer who treated her as though he owned her and Richard Moss who purchased young girls to be part of his harem. It was all a matter of personal feeling, no doubt. Natividad had resented her employer. Zahra had accepted and perhaps loved Richard Moss.
Earthseed is being born right here on Highway 101-on that portion of 101 that was once El Camino Real, the royal highway of California’s Spanish past.
Now it’s a highway, a river of the poor. A river flooding north.
I’ve come to think that I should be fishing that river even as I follow its current. I should watch people not only to spot those who might be dangerous to us, but to find those few like Travis and Natividad who would join us and be welcome.
And then what? Find a place to squat and take over? Act as a kind of gang? No. Not quite a gang.
We aren’t gang types. I don’t want gang types with their need to dominate, rob and terrorize. And yet we might have to dominate. We might have to rob to survive, and even terrorize to scare off or kill enemies. We’ll have to be very careful how we allow our needs to shape us. But we must have arable land, a dependable water supply, and enough freedom from attack to let us establish ourselves and grow.
It might be possible to find such an isolated place along the coast, and make a deal with the inhabitants. If there were a few more of us, and if we were better armed, we might provide security in exchange for living room. We might also provide education plus reading and writing services to adult illiterates. There might be a market for that kind of thing. So many people, children and adults, are illiterate these days… . We might be able to do it-grow our own food, grow ourselves and our neighbors into something brand new. Into Earthseed.
.
Parable of the Sower
19
The ground beneath your feet moves, Changes.
The galaxies move through space.
The stars ignite,
burn,
age,
cool,
Evolving.
God is Change.
God prevails.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
FRIDAY, AUGUST 27, 2027
(from notes expanded SUNDAY,
AUGUST 29)
Earthquake today.
It hit early this morning just as we were beginning the day’s walk, and it was a strong one. The ground itself gave a low, grating rumble like buried thunder.
It jerked and shuddered, then seemed to drop. I’m sure it did drop, though I don’t know how far. Once the shaking stopped, everything looked the same-except for sudden patches of dust thrown up here and there in the brown hills around us.
Several people screamed or shouted during the quake. Some, burdened by heavy packs, lost their footing and fell into the dirt or onto the broken asphalt. Travis, with Dominic on his chest and a heavy pack on his back was almost one of these. He stumbled, staggered, and managed somehow to catch himself. The baby, unhurt, but jolted by the sudden shaking, began to cry, adding to the noise of two older children walking nearby, the sudden talking of almost everyone, and the gasps of an old man who had fallen during the quake.
I put aside my usual suspicions and went to see whether the old man was all right— not that I could have done much to help him if he hadn’t been. I retrieved his cane for him— it had landed beyond his reach— and helped him up. He was as light as a child, thin, toothless, and frightened of me.
I gave him a pat on the shoulder and sent him on his way, checking when his back was turned to see that he hadn’t lifted anything. The world was full of thieves. Old people and young kids were often pickpockets.
Nothing missing.
Another man nearby smiled at me— an older, but not yet old black man who still had his teeth, and who pushed his belongings in twin saddlebags hanging from a small, sturdy metal-framed cart. He didn’t say anything, but I liked his smile. I smiled back. Then I remembered that I was supposed to be a man, and wondered whether he had seen through my disguise. Not that it mattered.
I went back to my group where Zahra and Natividad were comforting Dominic and Harry was picking up something from the roadside. I went to Harry, and saw that he had found a filthy rag knotted into a small, tight ball around something. Harry tore the rotten cloth and a roll of money fell out into his hands. Hundred dollar bills. Two or three dozen of them.
“Put it away!” I whispered.
He pushed the money into a deep pants pocket.
“New shoes,” he whispered. “Good ones, and other things. Do you need anything?”
I had promised to buy him a new pair of shoes as soon as we reached a dependable store. His were worn out. Now another idea occurred to me. “If you have enough,” I whispered, “Buy yourself a gun. I’ll still get your shoes. You get a gun!” Then I spoke to the others, ignoring his surprise. “Is everyone all right?”
Everyone was. Dominic was happy again, riding now on his mother’s back, and playing with her hair.
Zahra was readjusting her pack, and Travis had gone on and was taking a look at the small community ahead. This was farm country. We’d passed through nothing for days except small, dying towns, withering roadside communities and farms, some working, some abandoned and growing weeds.
We walked forward toward Travis.
“Fire,” he said as we approached.
One house down the hill from the road smoked from several of its windows. Already people from the highway had begun to drift down toward it. Trouble.
The people who owned the house might manage to put out their fire and still be overwhelmed by scavengers.
“Let’s get away from here,” I said. “The people down there are still strong, and they’re going to feel besieged soon. They’ll fight back.”
“We might find something we can use,” Zahra argued.
“There’s nothing down there worth our getting shot over,” I said. “Let’s go!” I led the way past the small community and we were almost clear of it when the gunfire began.
There were people still on the road with us, but many had flooded down into the small community to steal. The crowd would not confine its attention to the one burning house, and all the householders would have to resist.
There were more shots behind us— first single shots, then an uneven crackling of exchanged fire, then the unmistakable chatter of automatic weapons fire. We walked faster, hoping that we were beyond the range of anything aimed in our direction.
“Shit!” Zahra whispered, keeping up with me. “I should have known that was going to happen.