"Bankole wants me to move to Halstead," I said. "You know mat I don't want to go. I think we've got something worthwhile going here, and it's ours."
“I heard they offered you a house by the ocean?"
"Within sight of the ocean, but not that close. You don't want to be too close to the ocean in Halstead."
"But a real house, I mean. A house like back in Robledo."
"Yes."
"And you turned them down?"
"Yes."
"You're crazy as hell."
That did startle me. "You mean you want me to go, Zee?"
"Don't be stupid. You're the closest thing I got to a sister. You know damned well I don't want you to go. But... you should go."
"I'm not"
1 would."
I stared at her.
"I'd go to a better place if I could. I got two kids. Where do they go from here? Where's your little baby going from here?"
"Where would they go from Halstead? Halstead is like Robledo with a better wall. Why do you think there are people there who are planning to emigrate to Russia or Alaska and others who are just trying to hang on to their little piece of the twentieth century until they die? None of them is trying to build anything to replace what we've lost or to boost us to something better."
"You mean like Earthseed? The Destiny?"
"Yes."
"It ain't enough."
"It's a beginning. It's a way of trying to build tomorrow instead of cycling back into some form of yesterday."
"Do you ever stop preaching?"
"Am I wrong?"
She shrugged. "You know I'm not religious the way you are. Besides, even if you go to Halstead, we'll still be here. And Earthseed will still be Earthseed."
Would it? Maybe. But Earthseed is a young movement I couldn't walk away and leave it to a "maybe." I wouldn't walk away from it any more than I'd walk away from the baby I would soon be having. Someday, I want people to go from here and teach Earthseed. And I want what they teach to still be recognizable as Earthseed.
"I'm not going," I said. "And, Zee, I think you're a liar. I don't think you'd go either. You know that here at Acorn we're with you if you get into trouble. And you know we would take care of your kids if anything happened to you and Harry. Who else would do that?" She had been raised in some of the nastier streets of Los Angeles, and she knew about loyalty, about depending on her friends and having them depend on her.
She looked at me, then looked away. "It's good here," she said, staring out toward the hills to the west of us. "It's better than I thought it could be when we got here. But you know it's nothing like as good as we had back in Robledo. For your baby's sake, you ought to go."
"For my baby's sake, I'm staying."
And she met my eyes again. "You sure? Think about the future."
"I'm sure. And you know damned well I am thinking about the future."
She was silent for a moment. Then she sighed. "Good." Another silence. "You're right. I wouldn't want to go, and I wouldn't want you to go either. Maybe that's because I'm as big a fool as you are. I don't know. But... we do have something good here. Acorn and Earthseed—they're both too good to let go of." She grinned. "How's Bankole dealing with things?"
"Not well."
"No. He tries to give you what any sane woman would want and you don't want it. Poor guy."
She went away, smiling. I was heading back to the reading and my sketch pad when Jorge Cho came up to me, sweaty and filmy from the game. He was with his girlfriend Diamond Scott, tiny and black and every hair in place as usual. I saw the question on their faces before Jorge spoke.
"Is it true that you're leaving?"
thursday, january 20, 2033
Jarret was inaugurated today.
We listened to his speech—short and rousing. Plenty of "America, America, God shed his grace on thee," and "God bless America," and "One nation, indivisible, under God," and patriotism, law, order, sacred honor, flags everywhere, Bibles everywhere, people waving one of each. His sermon—because that's what it was—was from Isaiah, Chapter One. "Your country is desolate, your cities are burned with fire: your land, strangers devour it in your presence, and it is desolate as overthrown by strangers."
And then, "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they will be as wool. If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land. But if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured with the sword: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it."
Then, he spoke of peace, rebuilding and healing. "A strong Christian America," he said, "needs strong Christian American soldiers to reunite, rebuild, and defend it." In almost the same breath, he spoke of both "the generosity and the love that we must show to one another, to all of our fellow Christian Americans," and "the destruction we must visit upon traitors and sinners, those destroyers in our midst."
I'd call it a fire-and-brimstone speech, but what happens now?
sunday, february 6, 2033
Yesterday Marc told Bankole that he intended to hold services of his own on Gathering Day. He would, he said, speak just before our regular gathering. It seemed that he was remembering his time with the Durans in Robledo, remembering his carport church, and wanting to recapture that image of himself.
Bankole sent him to me. "Don't go out of your way to make trouble," Bankole told him. "Your sister has been good to you. Tell her what you intend to do."
"She can't stop me!" my brother said.
"Do what's right," Bankole told him. "You have a conscience. Don't go behind your sister's back."
So later in the day, Marc found me sitting with Channa Ryan, sorting and cataloging books. We're always behind in that, and it needs to be done. All of our kids work on projects as part of their education. Each kid does at least one group project and one individual project per year. Most kids find the two unrelated projects influencing one another in unexpected ways. This helps the kids begin to learn how the world works, how all sorts of things interact and influence one another. The kids begin to teach themselves and one another. They begin to learn how to learn. With their mentors' help, they each choose some aspect of history, science, math, art, or whatever and learn it well enough to teach it. Then they do just that. They teach it. To do a good job, they need to be able to find out what information we have available here and what they're going to have to go to the nets for. Since we aren't rich yet, the more we can offer them from our own library, the better.
Still, cataloging is tedious. I was almost glad when Marc came and interrupted my work. He and I went outside to talk.
"I want to get back to what I really care about," he said as we sat together on a handsome bench that Allie Gilchrist had made. Allie's discovered a real liking for building furniture, and she's worked as hard to learn to do it well as she has to learn to assist Bankole well.
"What?" I asked Marc, hoping that what he wanted was something that we could accommodate. No one wanted more than I did for him to find his own interests and get into work that he cared about.
"I want to start my church again," he said. "I want to preach. I'm not asking your permission. I'm just letting you know. With Jarret in office, you need someone like me anyway so that you'll be able to say you're not a Satanist cult."
I sighed. All of a sudden I could feel myself all but sagging with weariness and dread. But I only said, "If Jarret noticed us and wanted to call us a Satanic cult, your preaching wouldn't stop him. Would you be willing to speak at Gathering?"
That surprised him. "You mean while you're having your services?"
"Yes."
"I won't talk about Earthseed. I want to preach."