Parable ofhet
Sower
by Octavia Butler
Theodysseyofonewomanwhoistwiceas feelinginaworldthathasbecomedoubly dehumanized.Thetimeis20
25;theplaceis Californiaw, heresmallwalledcomunitiesmustprote ct themselves fromdesperate hordes of scangersandroamingbandsofdrugaddicts.Whe nonesuch community is overurn, LaurenOlamina,an18-yea r-oldblackwoman,setsoff onfoot,movingnorthalongthedangerous coastalhighways.Laurenisa"sharer,"one whosuffers from hyperme pathy -- the ability to feel others' pain as whelelroaws n.
"Butler's spare, ivid prose style invites comparison withelitkhes of Kate Wilhelm and Ursula Le Guin."
--Kirkus
"Moving, figr htening, funnyand eerily beautiful." --The Washington PGosetneralFiction ScienceFiction
2024
Prodigy is, at its essence, adaptability paenrsdistent,positiveobsession.Withoutpersistence, whatremainsis
anenthusiasmofthemoment.Without adaptability, what rme
ains may bcehanneledintodestructivefanaticism.
Withoutpositive obsession, therei snothingat all. EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
byLaurenOyaOlamina
.
Parable of the Sower
1
All that you touch

YouChange.
All thatyou Change
Changesyou.
The only lasting truth
IsChange. God IsChange.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING SATURDAY, JULY 20, 2024
I had my recunrgri dream last ignht. I guess I should have ecxtpeed it. Ictomesto me whenstIruggle--
whenI twist on my ownersponalhookand try to prented that nothinugnusual ishappening. It comes to me when I try to be my fathera'sugdhter.
Today is
uor birthday-- my fifteenth and my fat'hserfifty-ffith. Tomorrow, I'll try to psleahim-- him
and the community and God. Soaslt night, I dreamed a renmdeir that it's all a lie. I think I need toa write boutthedreambecausethisparticularliebothersmeso much.
I'm learnnigto fly,to levitate myself. No one is teinacghme. I'm just learnionngmy own, little by little,
dream lesson bdyream
el sson. Not a very subtle aigme, but a peirsstent one. I've had amny lessons, and
I'm better at flying than I used to be. I trust my abilityowm,orbeutnI'm still afraid. I can't quoitnetrocl my directionsyet.
Ileanforwardtowardthedoorway.It'sadoorway liketheonebetweenmyroomandthehall.Itseemsto be a long way fromm e, but I lean toward it. Hnogldimy body stiff and tense, I let go of werhaIt'emv grasping, whateverhas kept me from irnisg or falling so far. And I lean into t,hsteraainiring upward, not moving upward, but not quite falling down eithere. nTI hdo begin to move, asoutghh toslideontheairdriftingafewfe etabovethefloor,caught betwee nterrorand joy.
I drift toward the
odroway. Cool, pale light ogwl s from it. Then I slide a little to the right; and a little
moreI.canseethatI'mgoingtomissthedoorandhit the wall beidse it, but I can't stop uorrn.t I drift away
from the
odor,a way from the cool ogwl intoanotherlight.
Thewallbeforemeisburning.Firehassprungfromnowhere, hase aten in thruogh the wall, habsegun
toreachtowardme,reachforme.Thefirespreads.Idrift into it. It blazes aupround me. I thrahsand scramble and try to swimacbkout of it, grabbinhgandfulsofairandfire,kicking,burning!Darkness. PerhapsIawakea
little.Idosometimeswhenthefire swalol ws me. That's bad W.
henI wakeup all the way, I can't get back to
sleep. I try, but'veI
neverbeenableto.

This time I don'takweupall the way. I fade into stehceondpartofthedream--thepartthat'sordinary andreal, thepartthatdidhappenyearsagowhenIwas little, though at the time it didn't seem to matter.
Darkness. Darknessbrightening. Stars.
Starscastingtheircool,pale,glintinglight.
"Wecouldn'tseesomanystarswhenIwaslittle,"my stepmother say sto me. She sepaks in Spainsh,herown firstlanguage.Shestandsstillandsmall,looking up at the broad sewpe of the Milky Way. ShaendIhavegone outafterdarktotakethewashing downfromtheclothesline.Thedayhasbeenhot,as
usual, and wbeoth like the codoal rkness of early night. Therneo'smoon, but we acn see very well. The sky is full of stars.
The neighborhood walilsa massive, loomnig presencenearby. I see it as a crouchainnigmal, perhapsabo
ut to sprnig, more threateinng than proetctive. But my stepmother iserteh, andsheisn't afraid. I stay close to her. I'm seevn years old.
I look up at the stars anddetheep, black sky. "Whcyouldn'tyouseethestars?"Iaskher."Everyonecansee
them." I sep
ak in Sapnish, too, as seh's taught me. Ist'an intimacysomehow.
"City lights," she syas. "Lights, porgress, growth, all those tnhgi s we're too hot and
ptoooor to bohter
withanymore."Shepauses."WhenIwasyourage, mymothertoldmethatthestars--thefewstarswe couldsee--w
erewindowsintoheaven.WindowsforGod to lo kthrough to
ekep an eye ouns. I believed her formaolst a
year." My stemp other hands me aanrmloadofmyyoungestbrother'sdiapers.Itakethem, walk
abck toward
theh ouse where hse has left her big wickerunladry basket, and pile the diearps atopthe rest of the cloeth
s. The
absket is full. I look to see that my stepemr oisthnot watcnhgi
me, then let myself fall bacakrdw
onto thesoft mound of stiff, clnecalothes. For a moment, the
ifsallilkefloating.
I lie there, lookinugpat the stars. I pick out some of
theconstellationsandnamethestarsthatmakethem up. I've learend them from aan stronomy book that belonged to my father's mhoetr.
Iseethesuddenlightstreakofameteorflashingwestwarda cross the sky. I stare after it, hopinsgeeatonother. ThenmystepmothercallsmeandIgo backtoher.
"Thereare city lights onw," I say to her. "They dhoind'etthestars."
Sheshakesherhead."Therearen'tanywherenearas manya stherewere. Kids today havneoidea what a of light cietisused to be-a-ndnot thatlongago."
abzle
"I'd rather have
ethstars," I say.
"The stars are free." Shehrusgs. "I'd ratehrhave
the city lights back myself, thenesor othe better. But we can afforedsttahrs."

2
A gift of God
Maysearunreadyfingers.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING SUNDAY, JULY 21, 2024
At least three yearsgoa, my father's
oGd stoppedbeingmyGod.Hischurchstoppedbeingmychurch.And
yet, today, because I'm aowcard, I let myself be
initiated into that ucrhch. I let my father baptmizeein all three naemsof that Gdowhoisn't mineany more. MyGodhasanothername.
We got ueparly this morningbecause we had to go across town tuorcchh. Most Sudnays, Dad hodl schu rchservicesinourfrontrooms.He'saBaptist miniset r,andeventhoughnotallofthepeoplewho livewithinourneigh borhoodwallsareBaptists, thosewhofeeltheneedtogotochurcharegladtocome tou s. That way they don't have to isrkgoingoutsidewherethingsaresodangerousandcrazy.It's bad eonugh that some epople-- my father for one--havetogoouttoworkatleastonceaweek.Non eof us geos out to scohol any more. Adults getnervousaboutkidsgoingoutside.
But today was escpial. For tdoay, my father madaerrangementswithanotherminister--afriendofhis whostill hadarealchurchbuildingwitharealbaptistery.
Dadoncehadachurchjustafewblocksoutsideourwall. He
ebgan it beof
re there were so many wlasl. But
after it had been esplt in by the homeesls, robbed, and vnadalized several times, someonepouredgasoline inandarounditandburneditdown. Sevenofthehomelesspeoplesleepinginsideonthat last night burnedwith it.
Bust omehow,Dad'sfriendReverendRobinsonhas managedtokeephischurchfrombeingdestroyed.
We rode our biskteo it thsimorning-- me, two of mbryothers,fourotherneighborhoodkidswhowereready
to be
abptize d, plus my fathernda some other neighborhoodadultsriding shogt un. All the adults weremar
ed. That'sthe rule. Gout in a bnuch, andgoarmed.
Thealternativewastobebaptizedinthebathtubat homeT. hatwouldhavebeencheaperandsaferandfine with
me. I said so, but onnoe paid any attenotni
to me. To the adults, gooinugtside to a real ucrhchwaslike
steppingbackintothegoodolddayswhen therewerechurchesallovertheplaceandtoomany lightsandgasolinew asforfuelingcarsandtrucksinstead of for torching things. They enermv iss achancetorelivethegoodolddayso rtotellkidshow greatit'sgoingtobewhenthecountrygetsbackon itsfeetandgoodtimescomeback.

Yeah.
Touskids--mostofus--thetripwasjustan adventurea, nexcusetogooutsidethewall.We wouldbebaptizedout ofdutyorasakindofinsuran ce, but most of us aren't that muchncceorned with reigl ion. I am, but then I have a different reliogni .
"Why take chnaces," Silvia Dunn said to me a dfaeywsago."Maybethere'ssomethingtoallthisreligion stuff." Her parents thought there was, so shweaswithus.
MybrotherKeithwhowasalsowithusdidn'tshareany of my beliefs. He jusdt nd'ti care. Da dwanted him to
be baptized, oswhat the hell. Tehre wasn't much that Keith did care about.ikHeed lto
ahng ouwt ithhisfri
endsandpretendtobegrownup,dodge workanddodgeschoolanddodgechurch.He'sonlytwelve, the oldest of my threeb rothers. I don't like him much, but he's mymosthper's favorite. Theresmartsonsandonedumb one,andit'sthedumb oneshelovesbest.
Keith looekdaround more thananyone as we rdoe. His ma bition, if you coducl all it that, is to get out of theneighborhoodandgotoLosAngeles.He'snevertoo clear abou twhat he'll dohet re. He just wants to go to
the big city and amke big money. According to my father, the cbiitgy
si acarcasscoveredwith too many
maggots. I think h'se right, thoguh not all the magtgsoare in L.A. They'reereh, too.
But maggots ntednot to be early-morning types.Werodepastpeoplestretchedout,sleepingonthe sidewal ks,andafewjustwakingup,buttheypaid noattentiontous.Isawatleastthreepeoplewhoweren't goin gto wake up again, ever. Oenof them
washeadless.Icaughtmyselflookingaroundforthehead. After that, I tried not to lookunadroat all.
A woman, young,akned, and filthy stumbledloang pastus. I got a look at hlearcks expressionandreali zedthatshewasdazedordrunkorsomething.
Maybeshehadbeenrapedsomuchthatshewascra zy. I'd heard ostries of that hpapening. Or mabyeshewas
justhighondrugs.Theboysinourgroupalmost fell off their beisk, sta ring at ughts they would ebhavingforawhile.
ehr. What wnoderful religoi us tho
Thenakedwomanneverlookedatus.Iglanced backafterwe'dpassedherandsawthatshehad settleddowninthe weedsagainstsomeoneelse's neighborhoodwall.
Alotofourridewasalongoneneighborhoodwall afteranother;someablocklong,sometwoblocks,some five. . .
. Up toward the hills there weweralledestates--onebighouseandalotofshackylittledependencies where the servants lived. We didn't pass anythinikge lthat today. In fact waessped a coupleofneighborhoodssopo orthattheirwallswere made upof unmortared rocks, chunks of cnocrete, and tarsh. Thentherewere the pitiful, unwalled resdientialareas. A lot of the hoeusws eretrashed--burned,vandalized,infestedwithdrunkso
rdruggies or squatted-in by
mhoeless families with their filthy, gaunt, half-naked children.irTkhides were
wideawakeandwatchingusthismorning.Ifeel sorry for the little ones, but tnhees omy agae ndoldermakeme nervous.Weridedownthemiddleof thecrackedstreet,andthekidscomeoutandstand alongthecurbtostareatus. Theyjuststandand
stare. I think if tehwerere only onoertwo of uso,rif they coulnd't seeour guns, they might try to pull us downandstealourbikes,ourclothes,ourshoes,whateve r. Then what? Raep? Murder? Wecouldwinduplike
thatnakedwoman,stumblingalong,dazed, maybe
uhrt, sure to attract ndgaerous attention unlessshecould
stealsomeclothing. I wiswh ecouldhavegivenhersomething.

Mystepmothersayssheandmyfatherstoppedto helpaninjuredwomanonce,andtheguyswhohad injuredherju mpedoutfrombehindawalland almoskt illedthem.
Andwe'reinRobledo--20milesfromLosAngeles, anda, ccordingtoDad,oncearich,green,unwalled littlecity thathehadbeeneagertoabandonwhen hewasayoungman.LikeKeith,hehadwantedto escapethedullnessof
Robledoforbigcityexcitement. L.A. was beetrt
then--less lethal. Helivedtherefor21years.Thenin2010,hisp
arents weremurderedandheinheritedtheirhouse. Whoeverkilledthemhadrobbedthehouseandsma shed up the furniut re, but they didn't toracnhything.Therewasnoneighborhoodwallback then.
Crazy to live without a wall to protect you. EvReonbliendo,mostofthestreetpoor--squatters,winos, junki es,homelesspeopleingeneral--are dangerous.They'redesperateorcrazyorboth.
That'senoughtomakeanyonedangerous.Worse for me, they often have thinswgrong with
them. They cut off each eor'tsh ears, arms, lges. . .T.heycarryuntreateddiseasesandfesteringwounds. Th ey have no money to snpde on waetr to
washwithsoeventheunwoundedhavesores.Theydon't get enuogh to eat so they're lmnoaurished-- or they eat bad food anpd oisonthemselves. As I rode, I tried not to look around at them, bludtn'tI hceolupseei ng--collecting--someoftheirgeneralmisery.
I can take a lot of pain owutithfalling paart. I've had to learn to do that. But it was hard, today, to keep pedalingandkeepupwiththeotherswhenjust abouteveryoneIsawmademefeelworseand worse.
My father gnlaced back at me everyown
and then. He tells me, "You ceaant
bthis thing. You don't have
to give in to it." He hlawsayaspretended, or
perhapsbelieved, that my hypemr pathy syndromewassomethingIcouldshakeoffandforgetabout. Theshari ngisn'treal,afterall.Itisn'tsomemagicorESP that allowsme toshare the pain or the pleasure of otheorplpee. It's delusional. Even I admit that. My breorthKeith used to prentde to be uhrt just to tricmkeintosharinghi ssupposedpain.Onceheusedred ink as afke blood to make me belde. I was
eleven then, and I still bled tghhrouthe skin when I
sawsomeoneelsebleeding.Icouldn'thelpdoingit,
and I always owrriedthat it would give mawe ay to peoploeutside the family.
I haven't sahred bleedingwith anyone since I aws twelve and got my firsetriopd. What a relief thatasw. I
just wish all the rest of it had agwonaye, too. Keith only triecdk me into beleding that
noce, and I
beat the hell out of him for it. I didn't fight meunchI was little because
uitrthme so. I felt every blow
that I struck, just as
uthgoh I'd hit myself. So when I deicdidde that I had to fight, I set out to hurt the
otherkidmorethankidsusuallyhurtoneanother.I brokeMichaelTalcott'sarmandRubinQuintanilla'snose. I knocked out four of Silvia Du'snnteeth. They all enaerd what I did to them two oere thtirmes over. I got punishe devery time, and Iesrented it. It was doubpluenishment, after all, and my father and stephmerot knewit. But knowing idn't stopthem. I think they did it to satisfy the oitdhse'r pakrents. But wehnI beat
up Keith, I knew thatorCy or Dad or
both of them wlodu punish me for it-- mpoyor little brotehr, after all. So I had to see that my poor little brother paid iandvance. What I did to him had to be hwwohritlein spite of hwat they wouldoto me.

It wsa.
We both got it later from Dad-- me for huyrtoiunnggearkidandKeithforriskingputting"familybusiness" into the street. Daidsbig onprivacy and
"family busienss." There's a whole ragne of things
we neevreven hint aobut outsdi ethe family. First among etsheisanything about my mother, mhyyperem
pathy,andhowthetwoareconnected.Tomy father, the wholeusbin ess
si shameful. He'sapreacheranda
professorandadean.Afirstwife whowasadrugaddictandadaughterwhoisdrug damagedisnotsomethinghe
wantstoboastabout.Lucky for me. Being the most nveural want to bosatabout.
ble person Iknow
si damnedsure notsomething I
I can't do a thinbgouat my hyperme pathy, no matter what Dad thinokrws ants orwishes. I feel what I see
others feelingorwhat I believe they feel. Hyperempathsywhiat the
odctors call an "orgaicn delusional
syndrome." Big shit. It hurts, that's all I know. Thanks to Paracetco, the smartEipnisltle,inthpeowder,the particulardrugmymothercho se to abusbeefore my birth killehder, I'm crazy. I get a lot of grief that doesn't belong to me, and that isne'at l.r But it hurts.
I'msupposedtosharepleasurean dpain, but theriesn'tmuchpleasurearoundthesedays.Abouttheonly pleasure I've found that I enjoy snhgarii ssex. I get the guy'soogd feeling nad my own. I almost wIish didn't.Iliveinatiny,walledfish-bowlcul-de-sac community,andI'mthepreacher'sdaughter.There'sa real limit
to what I can
adosfarassex goes. Anyway, my neuroantrsmittersarescrambled and
they're gonigto stay scrambled. But I can
odkoayaslongasotherpeopledon'tknowaboutme.Inside ournei
ghborhoodwallsIdofine.Ourridestoday,though, wereh ell. Going adncoming, they were all the worst thgisn
I've ever felt-- shdaows andghosts, twistsand jabs of unexepctedpain.
If I don't look toonglaot old injuier s, they don't uhrtmetoomuch.Therewasanakedlittleboywhose skinwas amassofbigredsores;amanwithahuge scaboverthestumpwherehisrighthandusedto
be; a little girl, naked, measyebven years old withbloodrunningdownherbarethighs.Awomanwithaswollen, bloody, beaten face. . . .
Imusthaveseemedjumpy.Iglancedaroundlikea birdn, otlettingmygazerestonanyonelongerthanit took me to
see that they
ewren't coming in mydirectionoraiminganythingatme.
DadmayhavereadsomethingofwhatIwasfeelingin my expression. I try not to leyt famceshow anything, but he's good at reaidng me. Sometimes peoplesay I loogkrim or agnry. Better to have them think that than know the truth. Better to have them ktahninything than let thekmnow just how esayit is to hurt me.
Dadhadinsistedonfresh,clean,potablewaterforthe baptism. He oculdn't afford it, of coursW.e hocould? Thatwastheotherreasonforthefourextra kids:
Silvia Dunn, Hector Quintanilla, CisuTrtalcott, and DerwBalter, aol ng with my brhoet rs Keith anMd arcu s.Theotherkids'parentshadhelpedwith costs.Theythoughtaproperbaptismwasimportant enoughtospend
somemoneyandtakesomerisks. Iwastheoldestbyabouttwomonths.Curtiswasnext. As mucah
sI hated being
there, I hated even more that Csuwrtais there. I acre about him more than I want to. I cahraet thinks of me. I worry that I'll fall apart in public somned dhaey'lla see. But not today.
whe

By the time we reached thetrefossr-church, my
jaw-muscleshurtfromclinchingandunclinchingmy teetha, ndoverall,Iwasexhausted.
There were only five or sixozdenpeople at the sericve -- enough to fill up ouronftr
rooms at home and
looklike a
ibg crowd. At the church, thgohu, withitssurroundingwallanditssecuritybarsandLazor wireandits
hugehollownessinside,anditsarmedguards, the cor
wd seemed a tiny scaetrting of people. hTat was all
right. The alst thing I wantewdasabigaudiencetomaybetripmeupwithpain. Thebaptismwentjustasplanned. Theysentuskidsoff to the bathromos ("men's," "wmo en's," "please do not put pearpof any kind into
toilets," "waet
rfor washing in bucket at le.f.t".) . to undress and put on
whitegowns.Whenwewereready,Curtis'sfather tookustoananteroomwherewecouldhearthe preaching-- fromthefirstchapterofSaintJohnandthe secondchapter of ThAe cts-- and wait our tusr.nMy turcname last. I assume that wsamy father's idea. First the nebigohrkids, then my broethrs, then me. Forearsonsthat don't make a lot ofnse to me, Dad thinks I need more humility. I think my partioicluolgaicr abl
humility-- or humiliation-- misorethanenough.
What the hell? Smoeone had to beaslt. I just wishcoIuldhavebeencourageousenoughtoskipthe thing altogether.
So, "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the
Holy Ghsot. .."
Catholicsget this stuff over whwithen they're babies. I wish Baipstts did. I almost iswh I oculd believe it
was re.
mi portant the way a lot of peospeelem to, the way my father sesetom. Failing that, I wish I didna't c
But I do. The idea of Goduicsh mon my mind etshe days. I've been panygi attention to what oetrh peo ple believe-- whether they beiel ve, and if so what kind of God they believe in. KesiGthodsaiys just the
adults'way of trying to asrce you into dnogi what they want. He
edson't say that aruond Dad, but he says
it. He belieevs in what he esse, and no matter wh'saitn front of him, he edson't see much. I
supposeDadwouldsaythataboutmeifheknewwhat I believe. Maybe 'hde be rgi ht. But it wouldn't stop me from seeing what I see.
A lot of people seem to bveiine a big-ddady-God or a bg-icop-Godora big-king-God. They beiel ve in akindofsuper-person.AfewbelieveGodisanother wordfornature.Andnatureturnsouttomeanjustabout anything they ahppe nnot to unedrstand or
feel in control of.

Some say Goisda spirit, a force, an
mulatite realityA.
sksevenpeoplewhatallofthatmeansandyou'llget
seven different naswers. So what is oGd? Just anothernameforwhatevermakesyoufeelspecialand protecte d?
There's a igb, early-season storm bol wing itself out in the Gulf of Mexico. It'nscbedouaround the Gulf, killing people from Floidra to Texas and down iMntoexico.Thereareover700knowndeadsofar.One
hurricane.Andhowmanypeoplehasithurt?Howmany are goni gto starve later
ebcause of destroyed
crops? That'snature. Is it God? oMst of the dead athreestreetpoorwhohavenowheretogoandwho don'the arthewarningsuntilit'stoolatefortheirfeetto ta kethem tosafety. Wheres' safety for thema,nyway?Isitasinagain stGodtobepoor?We're almostpoorourselves.Therearefewerandfewerjobs among us, more of us nbegibo rn, morekids growingupwith nothni gto look ofrward to. Oenway
or anohter, we'll all be poor some day. Thedualts say things will get better, but they nevveer. hHaow
will God-- my father's God-- behave toward us
wee'rnepoor?
IsthereaGod?Ifthereis,doeshe(she?it?)care aboutus?DeistslikeBenjaminFranklinandThomasJeffersonb e lievedGod was somethnig that made
ust,henleftusonourown.
"Misgudi ed,"DadsaidwhenIaskedhimabout Deists."Theyshouldhavehadmorefaithinwhattheir Bible stold them."
I wonedr if the people oneGthulf Coast still havfeaith.Peoplehavehadfaiththroughhorribledisasters befo r
e. I read a lobt oaut that kind of thing. I read a loot dp.eMri y favorite book of the Bible is Job. I think it says moreabout my fathe'srGod in
particularand gods ingeneral thananything else I'veeverread.
In the book of Job, dGsaoys hemade everythingandheknowseverythingsonoonehasanyrighttoquestion w hat he deos witha ny of it. Okay. That works. That OelsdtaTment God deosn't violate thwe aythingsaren ow.ButthatGodsoundsalotlike Zeus--asuper-powerfulman,playingwithhistoysthe way my younegst brothe rs play with toy soeldrsi . Bang, bang! Seven toys falladd.e If they're yoursy, oumaketherules.Whocares whatthetoysthink.Wipeo ut a toy's family, then give it a brand new
family. Toy children, like Jsocbh'ildren, areinterchangeable. MaybeGodisakindofbigkid,playingwithhistoys.If he is, what diffenrece does it make if 700 oppeleget
killedinahurricane--orifsevenkidsgoto churchandgetdippedinabigtankofexpensive water?
But what if all that is w?roWnghat if Goids something else altogehter?
3
WedonotworshipGod.
We eprceive and attnedGod.WelearnfromGod.

Withforethoughtandwork, WeshapeGod.
In the end, we yield to GWoeda.daptandendure, ForweareEarthseed, AndGodisChange. EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING TUESDAY, JULY 30, 2024
One of the astraounts on the leastt Mars missoin hasbeenkilled.Somethingwentwrongwithherprote ctive
suit and the rest oferhteam cuoldn't get her abck to the sheelrt borhoodaresayingshehadno
in time to saveer.h Peoplehereintheneigh
business going to Mars, anyway. All that mowneaystedonanothercrazyspacetripwhensomanypeopleh ere on earth can't afford water, food, sohrelter.
Thecostofwaterhasgoneupagain.AndIheardon thenewstodaythatmorewaterpeddlersarebeing killedP. eddl erssellwatertosquattersandthestreet poor--andtopeoplewho'vemanagedtoholdontotheir homes, but not to pay their utility bills. Peddlerasrebeingfoundwiththeirthroatscutandtheir moneyandtheirhandtrucksstolen.D adsayswater nowcostsseveraltimesasmuchasgasoline. But, exceptforarsonistsandtherich,mostpeoplehave given up buying asoline. Noone I konwusesa gaspowered car, utrck, orcycle. Vehicleslike thaat rerusting indrivewaysandbeingcannibalizedfor metaal ndplastic.
It'salothardertogiveupwater.
Fashion helps. You're supposed to be dirtyown . If youe'rclean, you make a target of yourself. People think you're showing off, trying to be better than athree.yAmongtheyoungerkids,beingcleanisagreatway to start a fight. Cory own't let us stay dirtyereh in the neighobrhood, but weall have filthy clothes wtoear outsidethewalls.Eveninside,mybrothers throwdirtonthemselvesassoonastheygetawayfrom the huose. It's better tha ngetting beaet nup all the time.
TonighthelastbigWindowWalltelevisioninthe neighborhoodwentdarkforgood.Wesawthedead astronaut withallofred,rockyMarsaroundher.We sawadust-dryreservoirandthreedeadwater peddlerswiththeirdi
rty-bluearmbandsandtheirheads cut halfway off. And we saw whole blockbsooarfdedupbuildingsburning inLosAngeles.Of course,noonewouldwastewatertryingtoputsuch firesout.
ThentheWindowwentdark.Thesoundhad flickeredupanddownformonths,butthepicture wasalwaysasprom
ised--likelookingthroughavast, open wni
dow.
TheYannisfamilyhasmadeabusinessofhaving peopleintolookthroughtheirWindow.Dadsays thatkindof unlicensedbusinessisn'tlegal,buthelet usgotowatchsometimesbecausehedidn'tsee
any harm in it, and it helped thnenisYeas. A lot of smalul sibnessesare illegal, even thuogh they donh'turt
anyone,andtheykeepahouseholdortwoalive. The YannisWindow
si aboutasoldasI am. It covers thenglow
est wall of their living room. Tmheuysthavehadplentyofmoneybackwhentheybought it. For the past ucop le of years, though, they've been chargaidnmg ission--only letting in
peoplefromtheneighborhood--andsellingfruit,fruitjuice,a corn bread, orwalnuts. Whateverthey had too much of in thegiar rden, they found a way to sell.

They sohwedmovies from their blriary andlet uswatchnewsandwhateverelsewasbroadcast.Theycouldn't afford to subscribe to any of the new multisensory stuff, and thdWeirinodlow couldn't haveecr eived mo st of it, anyway.
They had no reality vests, nuochto-rings, and noheadsets.Theirsetupwasjustaplain,thin-screened Wind ow.
All we have left now are etshmreall, ancient, murkylittleTVsetsscatteredaroundtheneighborhood,a couple ofcomputersusedforwork,andradios.Every househol dstill has at alest one worknig radio. A lot of our everyday news is ofrm radio.
IwonderwhatMrs.Yanniswilldonow.Hertwosiste rshave moved in wihther, and the'yre workingsomaybeit
willbeallright.Oneisapharmacistandthe other is na urse. They usefreeandclear.Itwasher parents'house.
odn't earn muchb,ut MrsY. annisownstheho
Altlhreesistersarewidowsandbetweenthemtheyhave twelve kdi
s, all younegr than I am. Two ayrseago,
Mr.Yannis,adentist,waskilledwhileridinghis electriccyclehomefromthewalled,guardedclinic whereheworke d.Mrs.Yannissayshewascaught inacrossfire,hitfromtwodirections,thenshotonce moreatcloserange.Hisbike wasstolen.Thepoliceinvestigated, colel cted their fee, nad couldn't find a thing. People get ekdilllike that all the time. Uensls it
happens in fornt of a police station, there naerveer any witensses. SATURDAYA, UGUST3,2024
The daed astronaut is going
btoebrought back to Earth. She waendtto be buired on Mars. She saitdhat
whensherealizedshewasdying.Shesaid Marswastheonethingshehadwantedallherlife, andnowshewouldbep artofitforever.
But the Secraerty of Astronauict s saysno. He says herodby might be aonctaminant. Idiot.
Canhebelieve that any microorganism living ionr on hebrody would have a prayer of survivinngd agoing native in that cldo, thin, lethal ghost of aatmn osphere?Maybehecan.Secretariesof Astronauticsdon'thaveto knowmuchabout science.Theyhavetoknowaboutpolitics.Theirsisthe youngest Cabinet departme nt, and already it'sfightingforitslife.ChristopherMorpethDonner,oneof the men rnu ning for Presdient this yaer, has
promised to
baolish it if he's eledt. My fatheargreeswith Donner.
"Bread nad circuses," my father syaswhenthere's spacenews on the radio. "Politicnisaand big coropration sget the bread, adnwe get the irccuses."
"Spacecould be our future,"saIy. I believe that. As far as I'm concerned, space explorantdioncoloa nizationare among the few thginsleft over from
the last ecntury that cahnelpusmore than htey hurt us. It's hard to get anyone to see that, thohuegnh, w there'ssomuchsufferinggoingonjustoutsideour wals.
Dadjustlooksatmeandshakeshishead."You
don't udnerstand," hesays. "You dno't have any idea what a crimlwinaaste of time and mneoy that
so-caled space program is." eH'sgoing to vote foDronner.He'stheonlypersonIknowwho'sgoingtovote at

all. Most people have givuenpon poliitcians. After all, politicianhsave been promising to return us to the
glory, wealth, anodrder of the twentieth ceunryt
every snice I cnaremember. Thats' what the sapceprog
ramisabout these dyas, at least for politicnisa. Hey, wecanrun a sapce station, astationonthemoon,and soon,acolonyonMars.That proves we'restill a great, forward-looinkg, powerful naotin, right?
Yeah.
Well, w'ere barely a nation at all anoyrme, but I'm glad wees'rtill in space. Wehave to be going some place other tahndown the toilet.
And I'm sorry that aosntraut will bberought back from heorwn chosenheaven. Hername was Aliica CatalinaGodinezLeal.Shewasachemist.Iintend torememberher.Ithinkshecanbeakindofmodel forme.Shesp entherlifeheadingforMars-- preparingherself,becominganastronaut,gettingon
a Mars crew,
ignog to Mars, bengni ing to figure out how to terraform Mars,nbneinggi
to creaetsheltered
placeswherepeoplecanliveandworknow.... Marsisarock--cold,empty,almostairless,dead.Yet it's heaven in a way. Wecansee it in the nigshkty,awholeotherworld,buttoonearby,tooclose withinthereachofthe peoplewho'vemadesuchahell of life here onarEth.
MONDAY, AUGUST 12, 2024
MrsS. imsshotherselftoday--orrather,sheshot herselfafewdaysago,andCoryandDadfoundhertoday. Cory went a little crazy foawr hile afterward. Poor, asnctimonious, old Mrs. Sims. She used to sit in oonur fr t-room church eevry Sunday, lagre-print Bible in hand,nda shout out her respnoses: "Yes, Lord!" "Hlael
lujah!" "Thank you, Jesus!" "Amen!" Dinugr
the rest of the ewkeshe sewed, made basktse, took care of h
er garden, sold what hsecouldfromit,tookcareofpre-schoolchildren,and talkedabouteveryonewhowasn'tas holyasshe thoughst hewas.
ShewastheonlypersonI'veeverknownwholived aloneS. hehadawholebighousetoherself becausesheandthe wifeofheronlysonhated eachother.Hersonandhisfamilywerepoor,butthey wouldn't live with her. Tooadb.
Differenpt eoplefrightenedherinsomedeep,hard,ugly way. She didn't like theufHams ily beca usetheywere ChineseandHispanic,andtheolder Chni esegenerationisstillBuddhist.She'slivedacou ple of dooruspfrom them for lnogerthan I've been alive, but theyerew still from Saturn aasr fasshewas concerned.
"Idolaters," she wodulcall them if none of them waeroreund.Atleastshecaredenoughaboutneighborly relationstodohertalkingaboutthembehindtheir backsT. heybroughtherpeachesandfigsanda lengthofgood cottonclothlastmonthwhenshewas robbed.
That rbobery wasMrs. Sims'sfirst major targedy.Threemenclimbedovertheneighborhoodwall, cuttingthro ughthestrandsofbarbedwireandLazorwire on top. Lazor wiresteirriblestuff. Its' sofine and sharp that it slic esinto the wignsorfeet of birds who eeitrhdon't see it rosee it and try to settle on it. People,ghth, ocuan la ways findaway over, udner,orthrough.

Everyone broguht Mrs. Sims thginsafter the robery, in spite of the way she is. Woaosd. ,Fclothing, mo ney. .. We took up coeclltionsfor heratchurch.Thethieveshadtiedherupandlefther--after one of thema r pedh er. An old lady like thTaht!eygrabbedallherfood,herjewelrythathadonce
belongedtohermother,herclothes,andworstofall,
her supply ofasch. It turns otsuhe kept that-- all iot-f-inablueplasticmixingbowlhighupinherkitchen cabinet. Poor, car zy old lady. She mcaetomyfather,cryingandcarryingonaftertherobbery becausenowshe couldn'tbuytheextrafoodshe neededtosupplementwhatshegrew.Shecouldn'tpay her utility bills oer rh upcoming property taxes.Shewouldbethrownoutofherhouseintothe street!Shewouldstarve!
Dadtoldheroverandoverthatthechurchwouldnever let that happen, but hse didn't believe imh . Shetalkedo nandonabouthavingtobeabeggarnow, while Dad an dCory tried to raessureher. Thefunnythingis,shedidn't likeuseitherbecauseDad hadgoneandmarried"thatMexicanwoman
Cory-ah-zan." It just isn't that hard to say a"zCoonr" ifthat'swhatyouchoosetocallher.Mostpeoplejust calhl erCoryorMrs.Olamina.
Cory neevrlet on that she aws offended. She and Mrs. Sismwere sugary sweet to noe another. A little morehypocrisytokeepthepeace.
LastweekMrs.Sims'sson,hisfivekids,hiswife, herbrother,andherbrother'sthreekidsalldiedina
housefire--anarsonfire.Theson'shousehadbeenin an unwallead
reanorth and east of us, oclserto the
foothills. It wasn't a bad area, but it was Npoakoer.d.Onenightsomeonetorchedthehouse.Maybe it was a vengeance fire set by mso eenemy
of a family member or mbeaysome crazy ujst set iftorfun.I'veheardthere'sanewillegaldrugthat makespe oplewanttosetfires.
Anyway, no one
okwn swho did it to the Sims/Boyer families. No one saw anything, of course.
And no one gooutt of the housOe.dd, that. Elevepneople,andnoonegotout.
So about thredeays ago, Mrs. Sims shoterhself.Dadsaidhe'dheardfromthecopsthatitwasabout threedays ago.Thatwouldhavebeenjusttwodays aftersheheardaboutherson'sdeath.Dadwentto seeherthismorningbe causeshemissedchurchyesterd ay. Cory forcehderself to go alognbecauseshethoughtsheshould.Iwishshe hadn't.Tome,dead bodie sare disgusting. They stink, nad if they're old eungoh, there are maggots. But
what the hell? They'dreead. Theyaren't suffering, and if you didn't like them when they were alive, why
get so
pusetabouttheirbeingdead?Corygetsupset.Shejumps onmeforsharingpainwiththeliving,butshetriesto
shareitwiththedead.
I began writing thaibsout Mrs. Sims ebcauseshe killed
ehrself. Thats' what'supset me. She believed, like
Dad, that if you kill yourself, you go to hebllurannfodrever.Shebelievedinaliteralacceptanceofeverything in the Bible. Yet, when thginsgot to bteoomuchforher,shedecidedtotradepainnowfor eternapl aininthehe reafter.
Howcouldshedothat?

Did sheear lly believe in anything at all? Was it all hypocrisy?
OrmaybeshejustwentcrazybecauseherGodwas demandingtoomuchofher.ShewasnoJob.Inreallife, how many people are?
SATURDAYA, UGUST17,2024
I can't get Mrs. Siomust of my mind. Somehow,
ashnedhersuicidehavegottentangledupwiththe astronauta
ndherdeathandherexpulsionfromheaven. I need to write about what I believe. I need to begin to put together the scatteerd verses that I'vebeenwritingaboutGodsinceIwastwelve.Mostofthem aren't much
good. The ysay what I need to
say, but they don't say it very well. A few are the way they sThhoeuyldprbeess.
on me, too, like the
two deaths. I try to hide in all the woerrke tihs to doerheforthehousehold,formyfather'schurch,andforthe
schoolCorykeepstoteachtheneighborhoodkids.The truth is, I don'atrecabout any of those
nthgis, but they
keep meb usy and make me tired,nda most of the time, I sleep withoeuat mdirng. AndDadbeamswhenpe opletellhimhowsmartand industriousIam.
I love him. He's theestbperson I konw, and I care what henkthsi. I wish I didn't, but I do. For whatever 'sitworth, here'swhat I believe. It took
me a lot of time to undenrdstait, then a lot more time with a daicrytioand a theasurus to say it just right-- just the way it has to be. In the paars, tity'se gone throguh twenty-five or thirty lumpy, oinhcerent
rewrites. This is
ethright one, the uter one. ThisistheoneIkeepcomingbackto:
God is Power-- Infinite, Irresistible, Inexorable, Indifferent. And yet, God is PliablTer-i-ckster,
Teacher,Chaos, Clay.
God exists to be shaped. God is Change. This is the literal truth.
Godcan'tberesistedorstopped,butcanbeshapedand focused. This
emans Godi snot to be praeydto.
Prayers only help theerpsondoing thepraying, and then, only if they strengtahnedn focus that
eprson's
resolve. If they're used that way, they can uhsienlpour only real laretionship withGod. They helupstosha peGodandtoacceptandworkwiththeshapes thatGodimposesonus.Godispower,andintheend, Godp revails.
Buwt
ecanrigthegameinourownfavorifweunderstand that God eixsts to be shaepd, and wiblle shaped,
withorwithout our forethought, with owr ithoutourintent.
Thats' what I konw. That'ssomeof it anyway. I'm not like Mrs. Sims. I'm noetkisnodmof poteniat l Job, long suffering, stiff necekd, then, at last, either humbbeleforeanall-knowing almighty, or
destroyed. My God
edson't love me or hate omrewatch over moerknow me at all, and I feel no love for
or loyalty to my God. My Gosdt jsiu.
Maybe I'll be moriekel Alicia Leal, the astroanut. Lki eher, I believe
sinomething that I thkinmy dying,

denyingb, ackward-lookingpeopleneed.Idon'thave alol fityet.Idon'tevenknowhowtopassonwhatIdo have. I've got to learn to do that. Itescamre
how many things I've got to l.eHaornwwill I learn them? Isany of thsireal?
Dangerousquestion.SometimesIdon'tknowtheanswer. I doubt myself. I doubt what I thinko Iw.knI try to forget about it. After all, if it's real, why daoneysonn'teelseknowaboutit.Everyoneknowsthat changeisin evitable.Fromthesecondlawofthermodynamics to Darwinain evolution, fromBuddhism'sinsistencethatnothi ngispermanentand alslufferingresultsfromourdelusionsof permanencetothethirdchapterofEcclesiastes("To
everything there is aasoen. . . . "), change aisrt pof life, of existence, of the coomnmwisdom. But I
don't believe we'redealing with all that that me.aWnse haven't even ebgun to deal with it.
We give lipersvice to acceptnace,asthoughacceptancewereenough.Thenwegoontocreate super-people-- super-parents,super-kingsand queens,super-cops--tobeourgodsandtolookafter us-- to sntad betweenu s
and God. Yet Gohdasbeenhereallalong,shapingusandbeingshaped by us manywaysatoncelikeanamoeba--orlikeacancer. Chaos.
nin oparticularway or in too
Even so, whyanc't I do what oetrhshave done-- ignore the obvuios. Live a nomral life. It's hard eungoh just to do that in this world.
Buthisthing(Thisidea?Philosophy?Newreligion?)won't let me anloe, won t'
let me forget it, won't let me
go. Maybe. . . . Maybe it's like maryinsgh: One more weirdenss; one more crazy, deep-rooteddelusion
that I'mstuckwith. I amstuckwith it. And in time, I'll have to
mdoethsoing about it. In spite of what my
father will say or do to me, in spite of itshoenopuos rottenness outside the wall wehre I might be exiled, I'll have to do somenthgi about it.
That reality scares me teoatdh.
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 2024
President Willai m Turner Smithosl t yesterday'selection.ChristopherCharlesMorpethDonnerisournew President--P resident-elect. So what are wefoinr?Donnerhasalreadysaidthatassoonas possibleafterhisin augurationnextyear,he'llbeginto dismantle the "wasteful, ipnotless, unnecessa ry"moonandMarsprograms. Nearspaceprograms dealingwithcommunicationsandexperimentationwill be privatized--sold off.

AlsoD,
onnerhasaplanforputtingpeoplebackto workH.
ehopestogetlawschanged,suspend
"overly retsrictive" minimumwage, environmental, and workeprrotection
al ws for those emploeyrswilling
totakeonhomelessemployeesandprovide themwithtrainingandadequateroomandboard.What' sadequate, I
wonder: A huoseorapartment?Aroom?Abedinasharedroom?Abarracksbed? Spaceonafloor?Spaceonthe
ground?Andwhatabout people with
ibg families? Wno t'
they be seen as
abd investments?Won't it make
much moresenseforcompaniestohiresinglepeople,childlesscou ples,or, at most, peoepwl ith only onoertwo kids?Iwonder.
And what about those suspended laws? Will it be legal to poison, mutilaetec,t opreoinpfle-- as lnogas you provide thmewith food, waetr, and psace todie?
Dad dceided not to vote for Donner after all. He didn't vote for anyoneid.pHoleiticsians turnedhisstom ach.
2025
Intelligence is ongoing, individual adaptabyi.lAitdaptationsthatan intelligent species myamake in a singe generation, other species make over myagnenerations of selective breeding and selectivyeindg.Yet intelligenceis demanding. If it is misdirected by accidentyionrtebnt, it can foster its own orgies of
breeding and
yding.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
by LauernOya Olamni a
4
A victim of God mTayhr,oughlearningadaption, BecomeapartnerofGod.A victim of God may, Throughforethoughtandplanning, BecomeashaperofGod.
Or a victim of God may, Throughshortsightednessandfear,Remai nGod's victim, God'splaything, God'sprey.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING

SATURDAYF, EBRUARY1,2025
We ahd a fire today. People worry so mubcohuta fire, but the little kids will play with it if they can. We
were lucky with thsifire. Amy Dunn, three yesaorld, managed to start it in her fam'siglyarage.
Once the fire gbaen to crawulpthe wall, Amy got sceadrand ran into theouhse. She kenwshe haddone somethingbad,soshedidn'ttellanyone.She hidunderhergrandmother'sbed.
Outback,thedrywoodofthegarageburnedfast andhot.RobinBaltersawthesmokeandrangthe emergencybell ontheislandinourstreet.Robin'sonly ten, but sh'se a brgiht little kid-o-ne of mystepmother'sstarstudents. Shekeepsherhead.If shehadn'talertedpeopleassoonasshesawthe
smoke, the fire could havepresad.
Iheardthebellandranoutlikeeveryoneelsetosee whatwaswrong.TheDunnsliveacrossthestreetfrom us, so I
couldn't miss the som ke.
Thefireplanworkedthewayitwassupposedto.The adult meannd womenp ut the fire out wgitahrdenhoses,s hovels,wettowelsandblankets.Those witho ut hosesbeat at the edegs of the fire andmosthered themwith dirt. Kids my age hpeeldoutwherewewereneededandputoutanynew
fires satrted by flying emebrs. We brought ubckets tofillwithwater,andshovels,blankets,andtowelsofouro
wn. There were a lot of unsd, awekept our eyes
poen. The very old oppelewatched the little
dksi and
kept them out of the way oauntd of troubleN. oonemissedAmy.Noonehadseenherinthe Dunnbackyard,so noonethoughtabouther.Her grandmotherfoundhermuchlaterandgotthetruthout of her.
Thegaragewasatotalloss.EdwinDunnsalvaged someofhisgardenandcarpentryequipment,butnot much. Th egrapefruit treenext to the gagrae andthetwopeachtreesbehinditwerehalf-burned,too,but they might
survive. The carrot, suq ash,collard, and potato
apnl ts were a tramepdl mess.
Of course, noone called the fidreepartment. No ccupiedgarage.Mostofourhouseholdscouldn't
noe would tkaeon fireservice feesjust tosave anuno
affordanotherbigbill,anyway.Thewaterwastedon puttingoutthefirewasgoingtobehardenoughtopay for.
What will ahppen, I wonedr, to poor little Amy DuNnno.onecaresabouther.Herfamilyfeedsherand,nowa
nd then, cel
ansher upb, ut they don't love her or even like her. HehrermTroatcy isonly a yeaorlderthanI
am.Shewas13whenAmywasborn. Shewas12whenher27-year-oldunclewhohadbeen rapin gher for years managed to make ehrpregnant.
ProblemU: ncleDerekwasabig,blond,handsomeguy, funny and bgrhi t and wel-lliked. Tra cy was, is, dull and homely, sulky nad dirty-looking. Even wehnshe'sclean,shelookssplotchy,dirty.Someofher problemsmi ghthavecomefrombeingrapedby UncleDerekforyears.UncleDerekwasTracy'smother' syoungest brother, her favoritebrother, butwhenpeoplerealizedwhathehadbeendoing,the neighborhoodmengottogetherandsu ggestedhego live somewhere else. People didn't want himaroundtheirdaughters.Irrationalasusual,Tracy's

motherblamedTracyforhisexile,andforherown embarrassment.Notmanygirlsintheneighborhoodhave babie sbefore they dargsome boy to my father and have uhniimte them in holy matrimony. But
there wansoone to marry Tracy, and no money forprenatalcareoranabortion.AndpoorAmy,asshe grew, lookedmoreandmorelikeTracy:scrawnyand splochy withpsarse, stringy hair. I don't think she'lle erbvepr etty.
Tracy'smaternalinstinctsdidn'tkickin,andIdoubt thathermotherChristmasDunnhasany.TheDunnfamily has a rep utation forcraziness. There are sixteen of them living in thnenhDouse, and at least a third aretsn. u Amy isn't carzy, though. Not
yet. She's neegcl ted and lonely, and like any little kid left on heroo mn utch, she fdins ways to amuse herself.
I've never seenanyone hit Amy or curhseeroranythinglikethat.TheDunnsdocarewhatpeoplethink of them. But no one payas ny attention to heeri,ther.Shespendsmostofhertimeplayingalonein thedirt.Shealsoeatsthe
dirtandwhatevershefinds in it, inclundi gbugs. But not long agou,stj out of cuorisity, I took her to ohou s
e, sponged her offt,aughtherthealphabet,andshowedherhowtowrite her name. She loevd it. She's got a hu ngry, able little mind, and she loves atotenn.ti
Tonight I askdeCory if Amy couldasrt schoolearly. Cory
odesn't takekidsuntil they're five or ocsle to
five, but she sdasi he'd let Amy infI iwould take cahrge of help with the five and six yeladrs,oanyway. I've
ehr. I expected that, though In'dt olike it. I
beentakingcareoflittlekidssinceIwasone,andI'm tired of it. I think, though, that if somdeooensne't help
Amynow,somedayshe'lldosomethingalotworse tha nburningdown her famil'ysgarage.
ProblemU: ncleDerekwasabig,blond,handsomeguy, funny and bgrhi t and wel-lliked. Tra cy was, is, dull and homely, sulky nad dirty-looking. Even wehnshe'sclean,shelookssplotchy,dirty.Someofher problemsmi ghthavecomefrombeingrapedby UncleDerekforyears.UncleDerekwasTracy'smother' syoungest brother, her favoritebrother, butwhenpeoplerealizedwhathehadbeendoing,the neighborhoodmengottogetherandsu ggestedhego live somewhere else. People didn't want himaroundtheirdaughters.Irrationalasusual,Tracy's motherblamedTracyforhisexile,andforherown embarrassment.Notmanygirlsintheneighborhoodhave babie sbefore they dargsome boy to my father and have uhniimte them in holy matrimony. But there nwooasne
to marry Tracy, and no money forprenatalcareoranabortion.AndpoorAmy,asshe grew,lookedmoreandm orelikeTracy:scrawnyand splochy withpsarse, stringy hair. I don't think she'lle erbvepretty.
Tracy'smaternalinstinctsdidn'tkickin,andIdoubt thathermotherChristmasDunnhasany.TheDunn
family has a pruetation forcraziness. There are sixteen of them living in thnenhDouse, and at least a
third are ntus. Amy isn't
aczry, though. Not
yet. She's neegcl ted and lonely, and like any little kid left on heroo mn utch, she fdins ways to amuse herself.

I've never seenanyone hit Amy or curhseeroranythinglikethat.TheDunnsdocarewhatpeoplethink of them. But no one payas ny attention to heeri,ther.Shespendsmostofhertimeplayingalonein thedirt.Shealsoeatsthe
dirtandwhatevershefinds in it, inclundi gbugs. But not long agou,stj out of cuorisity, I took her to ohou s
e, spongedher offt,aughtherthealphabet,andshowedherhowtowrite her name. She loevd it. She's got a nhu gry, able little mind, and she loves atotenn.ti
Tonight I askdeCory if Amy couldasrt schoolearly. Cory
odesn't takekidsuntil they're five or ocsle to
five, but she sdasi he'd let Amy infI iwould take cahrge of
ehr. I expected that, though In'dt olike it. I
help with the five and six yeladrs,oanyway. I'vebeentakingcareoflittlekidssinceIwasone,andI'm tired of it. I think, though, that if someodneoesn'thelpAmynow,somedayshe'lldosomethingalotworse tha nburningdo wn her famil'ysgarage.
.
Parable of the Sower
WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 19,
2025
Some
ocusins of old Mrs. Sims havneheiritedher house. They'relucky there'sstill a house tonhierit. Ifit
weren'tforourwall,thehousewouldhavebeengutted, taken oev
rby squatters,ortorchedassoonasitwas
empty.Asitwas,allpeopledidwastakeback thing sthey had given to Mrs. Sims afterwsahserobbed,andtake
whateverfoodshehadinthehouse. N osense letting it rot. We nces.Wecouldhave, but we dnid't. We arne't thieves.
nd'itd take
ehrfurnitureorherrugsorherapplia
Wardell Parrish and oRsalee Payne think otehrwise.They'rebothsmall,rust-brown,sour-lookingpeoplelike Mrs. Sims. They're the cldhrie nof a first cuosin that Mrs. Simsadh managed to kepecontact andgood relationswith.He'sawidowertwiceover,no kdi s,andshe'sbeenwidowedonce,sevenkids.They'ren ot only brother andsister, but twnis. Maybe that helps thegmet alongwith each otehr. They damn sure wn'ot get along withanyone else.
They'removing in today. They've ebne here a cuople of times boefre to lokthe pal ce over,
nad I geuss
they must have liekdit better than thepirarents'house.Theysharedthatwith18other peopleI.wasbusyinthe
denwithmyclassofyounger school kdi
s, so I didn't meet thuenmtil
today, though I've heard Dadlkitnag to them-- ehard them sit in our living roonmd ainsni uate that whead cleaned out Mrs. Simssh' ousebefore they arrivedD. adkepthistemper."Youknowshewasrobbed durni gthe monthbeforeshedied,"hesaid."Youcan checkwiththepoliceaboutthat--ifyouhaven'talrea dy. Since then the
community has prtoected the huose. We haevn't used it or
isptpr ed it. If you ocohse to live among us,
you should understand that. We helpaceh other, andwe don't steal." "I wouldn't exepct you to say you did," Wardell
Parrishmuttered.
Hsi sisterjumpedin before he codusl ay more. "We're not acucsinganyone of anythnig," she lied.
"Wejustwondered....WeknewCousinMarjorie hadsomenicethings--jewelrythatsheinheritedfrom herm o

ther. . . Very valuable... .
"Checkwiththepolice,"myfathersaid. "Well, yse, Iknow, but. . . ."
"This iassmall community," myfather said. "We aklnl oweachotherhere.Wedependoneachother." Therewa sasilence.Perhapsthetwinsweregetting themessage.
"We're not veryocsial," Wardell Parrish said. "Wemindourownbusiness." Againhissisterjumpedinbeforehecouldgoon.
"I'm sure everything will belrigahl t," she said. "I'm suree'wll get along fine."
I didn't like themhewn I haerd them. I liked them even lessenwI hmet them. They lookusaats thoughwe smell and they dno't. Of course, it doesn't matterhewther I like theomrnot. There are other people in nthe
eighborhood whom I don't like. But I donu'st t trthe Payne-Parirshes. The
ikds seem all right, but the
adults. . . . I wouldn't want to have teonddeopn them. Not even for little things. Payne and Parrish. Whaet rfpect namesthey have.
SATURDAYF, EBRUARY22,2025
We arn into a apck of feradlogstoday. We went to the hills today fogrettapr ractice--me, my fatherJ,oa nneGarfield,hercousinandboyfriendHarold--Harry-- Balter, my boyfriend Curtis Talcott, hbirsother Michael,AuraMossandherbrotherPeter. OurotheradultguardianwasJoanne'sfatherJay. He'sagoodguyanda goodshot.Dadlikestowork withhim,althoughsometimesthereareproblems. TheGarfieldsandtheBaltersare white,andtherest ofusareblack.Thatcanbedangerousthesedays. Onthestreet,peopleareexpectedtofearand
hateeveryoneb ut their own
nkdi , but with all of usmeadr
and watchful, poeple stared, but they let uso al
ne.Ourneighborhoodistoosmallforustoplaythose kindsofgames.
Everything wenatsusual at first. The Talcotts got into agnumaernt first with aech other, then with the
Mosses. The Mossesare always
lbaming oht er people ofr whatever they do wrnog, so they tend to have
disputes outstanding with most of us. Peter Moss is tohrest wbecause he's always tryni gto belikehis father,andhisfatherisatotalshit.Hisfatherhas three wievs. All at once. Keanr, Natalie, and Zahra. They've
all got kdi
sby him, though so far, Zahra, the yoeustngandprettiest, only haosne. Karenisthe one with the

marriage
ilcense, but she let him get away wiitnhgibngr in first one, theannothernewwomanintothehousea
ndcallingthemhis wives. I guess the way tghinsare, she
iddn't
thinkshecouldmakeitonherownwiththreekidswhe nhe brought in Natalie nad five by the time fohuendZah ra.
TheMossesdon'tcometochurch.RichardMoss hasputtogetherhisownreligion--acombinationof theOld TestamentandhistoricalWestAfricanpra ctices. He clami sthat God wants men to be patarrichs, ruel rs and protectors of wmo en, and fathers oasfmany childrenaspossible. He'sanengineerforoneofthebigcommercial watercompanie s, sohecan afford to pick upeabutiful,younghomelesswomenandlivewiththemin polygynou srelationships.Hecouldpickuptwenty
women like that if heoucld afford to feed themh.eaIrthere'salotofthatkindofthinggoingonin otherneighbor
hoods.Somemiddleclassmenprovethey're men by hanvgi
a lot of wives in teomrparyorpermanentrelation
ships.Someupperclassmenprove they're men by havionnge wife anda lot obfeautiful,disposableyoungse rvantgirls.Nasty. Whenthegirlsgetpregnant,iftheirrichemployerswon'tp rotect them, the employers' weisv throw them out to starve.
Is that the way it's going to be,ndIewr?oIs that thfueture:LargenumbersofpeoplestuckineitherPresi dent-elect Donner' sversion ofslavery or Richard Mo'sss.
WerodeourbikestothetopofRiverStreetpastthe lasnt eighborhoodwalls,pastthelastragged,unwalled houses, past the last stretch bofrokenasphaltandragandstickshacksofsquattersand streetpoorwhostareatusintheirh orrible,empty waya, ndthenhigherintothehillsalongadirtroad. Atlastwedismountedandwalkedourbikesdown thenarrowtrailintooneofthecanyonsthatweandothers use for tgaet pra ctice. It looekdall right this time, but we alwayshave to be careful. Peloep usecanyonsfor a lot of thisn.gIf we fincdorpsesin one, wsetay away from it for a while. Dad sttroieshieldusfromwhatgoesonintheworld,buthecan't.Knowing that, he also etsri
to teach us to shield ourselves.
Most of us hapvreacticed at homewith BB guns ohnomemadetargetsoronsquirrelandbirdtargets.I've
done all that. My aim is good, but I don't lwikieththitebirdsandsquirrels.Dadwastheonewho insistedonmy learningtoshootthem.Hesaidmoving targets would begood for my aim. I think there mwaosre to it than that. I think he wantedsetoewhetherornotIcoulddoit--whethershootinga birdorasquirrelwouldtriggermy hyperempathy.
It didn't, quite. I didn't like it, but it wasn't painful. kIet faeltbilgsi,oft,strange ghostblow, lki egetting hit with a huge abll of air, but with no cnoeossl, no feeling of wind. The blow, though still soft, was a
littleharderwithsquirrelsandsometimesratsthanwith birds. All three ahd to be killed, thgohu. They ate our foodo rruined it. Tre-cropswere theirspecialvictims: Peaches,plums, fgi s,persimmons, nuts...Andcrops likestrawberries,blackberries,
grapes. . . . Whatever weanpteld, if they could getit,atht eywould.Birdsareparticularpestsbecausethey can fly in, yetI like them. I envy their ability to fly. Sometimes I get up and go outusatt sdoawIncnaj watch them witohut anyone sacring them orshootingthem.NowthatI'moldenoughtogotargetsho oting on Saturdays, I don't intend tohosot anymorebirds,nomatterwhatDadsays.Besides,just becauseIcanshootabi rdorasquirreldoesn't
meanIcouldshootaperson--athiefliketheoneswho robbed Mrs. Sims. I don't oknwwhether I could do

that. And if I did it, I dono'twkwnhat would happen to me. Woldu I die?
Its' my fathers' fault that we pay so
cmhuattention togunsandshooting.Hecarriesaninemillimeterautomatic pi
stol wheneve rhe leavestheneighborhood.Hecarriesitonhishipwherepeople canseeit.Hesaysthatdiscoura gesmistakes.Armed people do get killedm-- ost often in crossfires or by snip-ebrsu-t unarmed people get killed a lot more often.
Dadalsohasasilencedninemillimetersubmachinegun. It stays at home with Coryaisn escomethinghappens therewhilehe'saway.Bothgunsare German--Heckler&Koch.Dadhasneversaid wherehegotthesubmachineg un.It'sillegal,ofcou rse, so I don't bmlae him. It must haveosct a hell
of a lot. He's only had it awoamy fhrome aewf thesamefortheboyswhenthey'reolder.
times so he, Cory, and I ldcoguet the feel of it. He'll do
CoryhasanoldSmith&Wesson.38revolverthat she'sgoodwith.She'shaditsincebeforeshemarried Dad. She loaned that one to me today. Oursn'at rethe best or tnheewest guns in thneeighborhood,buttheyallwork. DadandCorykeepthem in good cno dition. I have to help with that nAonwd.theyspendthenecessarytime onpracticeand
money on amunition.
At neighborhod associationmeetings, Dadusedtopushtheadultsofeveryhouseholdtoownweapons, maintain them, andknowhow to use them. "Know howusteo them so well," 'hsesaid more thanncoe,
"that you're able to defned yourself at two a.m. as you are at two p.m." Atfirsttherewereafewneighborswhodidn'tlike that--olderoneswhosaiditwasthejobofthepoliceto protect
them, youngero neswhoworried that theirlittlechildrenwouldfindtheirguns,andreligious oneswhodidn'tthinka
ministerofthegospelshould needguns.Thiswasseveralyearsago.
"The poicl e," my father told them, "may be able to avenge you, but nt'ht epyrocteact you. Thingasre
getting worse. And as for
uyrochildren. . . . Well, yes, thesrreiski. But you can put yogunrsout oftheirre
achwhilethey'reveryyoung,andtrainthemas they gor
wolder. That'swhat I mean to do. I believe they'll have
a betterchance ofgrowing up if you cparnotect them." He puased,staredat the people, then went on. "I
have a wife and five children," he said. "I will pray for them all. I'll also see to it that they know how to
defend themselves. And for asngloas I can, I will standtwbeeenmy family and any intreurd." He again."Now that's what I have to do. You all do what you have to do."
apused
By now thearere at laest two gnus in every huosehold. Dadsayshesuspectsthat some of theamresowellhid den--likeMrs.Sims'sgun--thatthey wouldn'tbeavailableinanemergency.He'sworkingon that.
Altlhekidswhoattendschoolatourhousegetgun handlni ginstruction.Oncethey'vepassedthatandturned fifteen, twoo rthree of the nigehborhoodadultsbegintakingthemtothehillsfortarget practice.It'sakindofriteof passageforus.My brotherKeithhasbeenwhiningtogoalong wheneversomeonegetsashootinggrouptogether, but the age rlueis firm.
IworryaboutthewayKeithwantstogethishands ontheguns.Daddoesn'tseemtoworry,butIdo. Therearealway safewgroupsofhomelesspeople andpacksofferaldogslivingoutbeyondthelast hillsideshacks.Peopleanddogs huntrabbits,possum s, squirrels, and each oethr. Both scavegnewhateverdies.Thedogsusedtobelongtopeo ple-- ortheirancestorsdid.Butdogseatmeat.These daysn, opoorormiddleclasspersonwhohadan ediblepiece ofmeatwouldgiveittoadog.Rich peoplestillkeepdogs,eitherbecausetheylikethem orbecausetheyusethemto

guardestates, enclaves,andbusinesses.Therichhaveplentyofother security deviec insurance.Dogsscarepeople.
s, but the dgos are extra
I did some shonogti today, and I waesanlingagainst a bouledr, watching oht ers shoot, wehnI realized therewasadognearby,watchingme.Justone
dog--male,yellow-brown,sharp-eared,short-haired.He wasn't big eonugh to make a meal of me, and I still had the Smith & Wessos,no while he was loionkg me over, I took aodgolookat him. He was lean, but he dind't lookstarved. He loked alert andcurious.Hesniffedtheair,andIrememberedthat dogsweresup posedtobeorientedmoretowardscent than sgi ht.
"Look at that," I said tonnJoeaGarfieldwho wasstandingnearby.
She turend, gasped, and jerked hrgeunupto aim at the dog. Thoegdvanished into thdery brush and boulders. Turning, Joanne tried to look eevrywhereasthoughsheexpectedtoseemoredogsstalking usb, ut therewasnothing.Shewasshaking.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn'ot wkynou were afraid of them." Shedrewadeepbreathandlookedattheplace wherethedoghadbeen."Ididn'tknowIwaseither," shewhispe
red."I'veneverbeensoclosetoonebefore. I. .I.
wish I had gotten a betteorkalot it."
At that moment, Aura Mossesacmr edand firedherfather'sLlamaautomatic. Ipushedawayfromtheboulderandturnedtosee Aurapointingherguntowardsomerocksand
babbling.
"Iwt
asoverthere!"shesaid,herwordstumbling overoneanother."Itwassomekindofanimal--dirtyyellow with
big teeth. It had its moutpheno. It washuge!"
"You stupid bitch, you almtsohsot me!" MihcaelTalcottshouted.Icouldseenowthathehadducked down behindaboulder.HewouldhavebeeninAura' sline of fire, but he nd'itd seem to bheurt.
"Put your gun away, Aura," my father saeidk.epHthisvoicelow,buthewasangry.Icouldseethat, whether
Auracouldornot.
"It was an amnai l," she nisisted. "A big one. It misgthilltbearound." "Aura!"Myfatherraisedhisvoiceandhardenedit.Aura loo ked at him, thneseemed to realize that shhaedmo
rethanadogtoworryabout.Shelookedatthe gun in ehr hand, frowned, fumbled it safe,nda putitbackintoher holster.

"Mike?" my father said.
"I'm okay," MichaTelalcott said. "No thanks toerh!"
"It wasn't my fault," Aura said, rignhctueo. "There was an animal. It could have killed you! Istnewakaisn guponus!"
"Ithinkitwasjustadog,"Isaid."Therewasonewatchingu soverhere. Joanne movedand it ran away."
"You sohuld have kliel d it," Peter Moss said. "What do you want ?tWo adito until it jumps soemone."
"Whawt
asitdoing?"JayGarfieldasked."Just watching?"
"That's all," I said. "It didn't loicokorsstarved. Itwasn'tverybig.Idon'tthinkitwasadangerto anyonehere. Therearetoomanyofus,andwe'reall too big."
"ThethingIsawwashuge,"Aurainsisted."Ithadits mouthopen!"
IwentovertoherbecauseI'dhadasuddenthought.
"It was panting," I said. "They pant when'rethehyot. It doesn't manethey're angry or hnugry." I
hesitated, watching
ehr. "You've nevreseenonebefore, haveyou?"
Sheshookherhead.
"They'rebold, but they're notandgerousto a gorup like this. Youond't have to
owrry."
Shedidn'tlookasthoughshequitebelievedme,but sheseemedtorelaxalittle.TheMossgirlswereboth bullied na
d sheltered. They
ewre alm ost neverallowedtoleavethewallsoftheneighborhood.They wereeducatedat
homebytheirmothersaccording tothereligiontheirfatherhadassembled,andthey were warnedaway from the sainnd contamni ation of
the rest of theorwld. I'm suprrised that Aura wallowedtocometousforgunhandlinginstruction andtarget practice.Ihopeitwillbegoodforher-- andIhopetherestofuswillsurvive.
"All of you stay where you are," Dad said.
nHceedglat Jay
aGrfield, then went ahosrt way uapmong
therocksandscruboakstoseewhether Aurahadshotanything.Hekepthisguninhishandand the safety off. He was out of oursight for no more atnha minute.
HecamebackwithalookonhisfacethatIcouldn'tread. "Put your gnusa way," he said. "We're going home."

"Did I kill it?" Aura daenmded.
"NoG.
etyourbikes."HeandJayGarfieldwhispered togetherforamoment,andJayGarfieldsighed. JoanneandI
watchedthem,wondering,knowingwewouldn't hear anything form them until they were ready to tell us. "Thisisnotaboutadeaddog,"HaroldBaltersaid behindus.Joannemovedbacktostandbesidehim. "It'sabouteitheradogpackorahumanpack,"I
said", ormaybeit'sacorpse."
It was, as I found out later, a family posfesc:oAr
woman, a little boy of about four yeanrds, aa
just-born infant, all partly eaten. But Dadn'dt idtell me that until we got home. At the canyon, alel we kn wwas that he wauspset.
"Iftherewereacorpsearoundhere,wewouldhave smelled it," Harrsyaid. "Not if it were fresh," I countered.
Joannelookedatmeandsighedthewayherfathersighs. "If it's thaI,t
wonder wehre we'll
ogshooting next
time. I wonder
hwen there'll be naext time." Peter Mossnda the Talcott broethrshad gotten intaonarg
umentoverwhosefaultitwasthatAurahad almostshotMichael,andDadhadtobreakitup.Then Dad ceh
cked
with Aura otsee that she was all right. He said a fenwgs tthoi ownherface.Shecrieseasily. She always ahs.
ehr that I couldn't heanr,dIsawatearslided
Dadwalkedawayfromherlookingharassed.Heledus up thpe
ath out of the canyon. We weadlokurbikes,
andweallkeptlookingaround.Wecouldsee nowthattherewereotherdogsnearby.Wewere beingwatchedbya bigpack.JayGarfieldbrought uptherear,guardingourbacks.
"Hesaidweshouldsticktogether,"Joannetoldme. Shehadseenmelookingbackatherfather. "You and I?"
"Yeah, and
aHrry. Hesaid we shouldool kout for onaenother."
"Idon'tthinkthesedogsarestupidenoughorhungryenough to attacuk street person tonight."
"Shut up, for godsake."
sin daylgi ht. They'll go after msoe lone
Theroadwasnarrowgoingupandoutofthecanyo n. It would have ebne a bad
apcl e to have to fight off
dogs. Someonecould trip adnstep off the
ucmr blingedge. Someone couldbeknocked off the edge by a
dogorby one oufs. That woulmd ean falling seevral hundred feet.
Downbelow,Icouldheardogsfightingnow.We mayhavebeenclosetotheirdensorwhatevertheylived in. I
thought maybe we ewre just close to
hwat they were fedeingo n.

"If thecyome," myfathersaid in a quiet, even cveo,i
"Freeze, aim, and fire. That lwsaivl e you. Notihng elsewill. Freeze, aim, and fire. Keepuryeoyesopen and stay calm."
Ireplayedthewordsinmymindaswewentupthe swtichbacks.NodoubtDadwantedustoreplaythem. I could see that Aura wasstill leaking tearasndsmearingandstreakingherfacewithdirtlikea littlekid.Shewastoowra ppedupinherownmiseryand fear to be ofucmhu se.
We got almost to the top befoarneything happened. We werbeeginning to rleax, I think. I hadn't seen a dog for a while. Then, from the front of our lihnea, rwdtehreeshots.
We all ofrze, most of us unaleb to sewhat hadhappened.
"Keep moving," my father ceadl.l "It's all right. It wjuasstonedoggettingtooclose." "Are you okay?" I ceadl.l
"Yes," he said. "Just comeanodn keep yuoreyesopen."
One by one, we mceaabreast of the dog that hbaedenshotandwalkedpastit.Itwasabigger,grayer animal thantheoneIhadseen.Therewasabeautyto it I.t looked like icptures I hdaseenof wolves. Iwt aswedgedagain stahangingboulderjustafew stepsupthesteepcanyonwallfromus.
It moved.
I saw its oboldy woundsas it twisetd. I bit mytongue as the pina I knew it umst feel became my pain.
What to do? Keepwalking?I coudl n't. One more step the pain. Or I might fall into the ocna.ny
nad I would fall and lie in tihrte, hdelpel ss agani st
"It's still alive," Joaensnaid behindme. "It's moving." sIftorefeet were mkaing little running motiosn, itscla wsscrapingagainsttherock.
I thought I would othwr up. My belly hurt more and munotriel I felt skeewred through the middle. I
leanedonmy bikewith my left arm. With my right hande, wI thder beautifuldogthroughitshead.
Smith & Wesson, maei d, and shotthe
I fettlhe impact of the bullet ahsarad, solid bolw-- something beyond pain. TehnI felt the dog dies.awI it jerk,shudder,stretchitsbodylong,then
freeze. I saw it die. I felt it die. It went out like a matcdheninvanissuhding of pina. Its life flared up, then went out. I went a little numb. oWutiththebike,Iwouldhavecollapsed.
Peoplehadcrowdedclosebeforeandbehindme.I

heard them boefre I colud see tehm cel arly.
"It's dead," I hedaJroanne say. "Poor thing."
"What?" my father mdeanded. "Another
noe?"
I managed to focounshim. He must have skiretd close to the cliffd-ege of the raodto have gotten athlle waybacktous.Andhemusthaverun.
"Thesameone,"Isaid,managingtostraightenup. "It wasn't dea.Wd e saw it moving."
"I put three bulsleintto it," hseaid.
"It was moving, ReervendOlamina," Joanne insisted. "It was suefrfing. If Lauernhadn't shot ist,omeoneel sewouldhavehadto."
Dadsighed. "Well, it isn't suffinegr
now. Let'sget outofhere."ThenheseemedtorealizewhatJoannehad said.
He loo kedat me. "Are you all right?"
I nodded. I don'nt okwhow I loked. No one was raecting to me as otuhgh I lokedodd, so I must not haveshownmuchofwhatIhadgonethrough.Ithink only Harry Balter, Cui rstTalcott, and Joanne had seen me shoot the dog. I looked at thaenmd
Curtisgrinnedatme.Heleanedagainsthisbikeand
in a oswl shot.
, lazy motion, he dreawnimaginary gun, took careful aim at theeadd dog, and fireadnimaginary
"Pow," he said. u"sJt likeshedoesstuff like that every day. Pow!"
"Let's go," My fatherids.a
We ebgan walking up the ptha
again. We left the caonnyand made our way
odwn to the street. There
werenomoredogs.
I walekd, then rdoein a
adze, still not quite free of the dog I haed. kIillhad felt it die, andtI yhead not
died. I had felt its pain asugthhoit were a huamn being. I had felt its life flare and go out, alive.
Pow.
asdstIillw

5
Belief
Initiatesandguidesaction--Or it doens
othing.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING SUNDAY, MARCH 2, 2025
It'sraining.
Weheardlastnightontheradiothattherewasastor msweepingin from the aPcific, but most poeple didn't believe it. "We'll have inwd," Cory said. "Wnid
andmaybeafewdropsofrain,ormaybejustalittle coowl eather.Thatwouldbewelcome.It'sallwe'llget." That'salltherehasbeenforsixyears.Ican remembertherainsixyearsago,waterswirling aroundthebackporch,
nothighenoughtocomeinto the houseb,
ut high eonugh to attract my broetrhs who wanetdto play in it.
Cory, forever worrieadbout infection, wouldn't let them. She idsathey'dbesplashingaroundinasoupofallthe waste-watergermswe'dbeenwateringourgardens
with for years. Maybe she wiagsht,r but kdisall overtheneighborhoodcoveredthemselveswithmudand earthwormsthatday,andnothingterriblehappenedto them.
Buthatstormwasalmosttropical--aquick,hard, warmS, eptemberrain,theedgeofahurricanethathit Mexi co's
Pacificcoast. Thsi isacolder, winterstorm.Itbeganthismorningaspeoplewerecomingto church.
Inthechoirwesangrousingoldhymns accompaniedbyCory'spianoplayingandlightning andthunderfromoutsi de.Itwaswonderful.Somepeople missedp art of the sermon, tuhgoh, because they went home to put out
all the
abrrels, buckets, tubs, anpdots they colud find to catch the free water. eOrsthwent home to put
potsand bucketsinsidewheretherewereleaksintheroof.
I can't rememberwhen any of uhsave had a roorefpairedbyaprofessional.WeallhaveSpanishtileroofs, and that'sgood. A tile roof is, I pseucst, more secureandlastingthanwoodorasphaltshingles. Butime,wind,and earthquakeshavetakenatoll.Tree limb shavedonesomedamage, too. Yet noonehasextramoneyforanythinga snonessential asroofrepair.Atbest,someoftheneighborhood mengoupwithwhatevermaterialstheycan scavengeand cre ate makeshift patches. No one's even done that faowr hile. If it only rainsncoe every six or seven years, why boethr?
Ourroofisallrightsofar,andthebarrelsandthingswe put out after seirvces thsi morningare full or filling. Good, clean, free water from etshky. If only ciat me more often.

MONDAY, MARCH 3, 2025
Still raining.
No thnuder today, though there aws some alst nightS. teadydrizzle,andoccasional,heavyshowersallday. All day. So different and abuetiful. I've never felt so ovehrewlmed by water. I went out dawnalked inthe rainuntilIwassoaked.Corydidn'twantmeto,but I did it anyway.twIassowonderful. Howcan
shenotunderstandthat?Itwassoincredibleand wonderful. TUESDAY, MARCH 4, 2025
AmyDunnisdead.
Threeyearsold,unloved,anddead.Thatdoesn't seemreasonableorevenpossible.Shecouldreadsimpl ewords and count to thirty. I taught her. She so mucehd lgoevtting attention thathes stuck to mdeuringschoolhou
rsanddrovemecrazy.Didn'twantme to go to the bathormo
witho ut her.
Dead.
Ihadgottentolikeher,eventhoughshewasapest. TodayIwalkedherhomeafterclass.Ihadgotten intothehabitof walkingherhomebecausethe Dunnswouldn'tsendanyoneforher.
"Sheknowstheway,"Christmassaid."Justsendher ove r. She'll get here all right."
I didn't doubt thateschould have. She cuold look across the trseet, andacross the center isnlad, and see
her house from
uors, but Amy had a dteenncy to wnader. Sent hmo e alone, she might geterteh
orshemig
htwindupintheMontoyagarden,grazing,or in the Moss rabbit
ohuse, trying to let the rabbiotsutS. oIwalked
heracross,gladforanexcusetoget out in the raingaain. Amy loved it, too, and wlinegeredforamomentunder thebigavocadotreeon theisland.Therewasanavelorangetreeatthe backendoftheisland,andIpickedapairof
ripe
oranges--oneforAmyandoneforme.Ipeeledboth
of them, and we ate themhilewthe rianplasteredAmy'sscantcolorlesshairagainstherheadand madeher lookbald.
I took her toerhdoor and left her inecthare of hemr other.
"You didn't have to get her so wet,"
cTormacpylained.
"Might as well enjoy thenwrahiile it latss," I said, and I left them.

I saw Tracy take Amy into the haonudseshut thdeoor.YetsomehowAmywoundupoutsideagain, wound upnearthefrontgate,justoppositethe Garfield/Balter/Doryhouse.JayGarfieldfoundherthere when hecame
out to investigaetwhat hethoughtwasanotherbundlethatsomeonehadthrown over the gate.
oPeple toss us
things sometmi
es-- gifts of envy and hate: A gmoatyg, dead animal, a bag of shit, even anasioocncal seve
redhumanlimboradeadchild.Deadadultshavebeenleft lying just beyond oruwall. But these were all oudtesi rs. Amy was noe of us.
Someoneshot Amy right thorugh the metaglate. Ithadtobeanaccidentalhitbecauseyoucan'tsee throughour gatefromtheoutside.Theshootereither fired at someon ewho was in front of the gate or fired at the gate itself, at the neighborhood, at uasndoursupposedwealthandprivilege.Mostbulletswouldn't have gotten
through
ht e gate. It's spu posed
to be bulletporof. But it's been npeetrated a cuople of times before, ghhiup, near the top. Nwowehavesix newbulletholesinthelowerportion--sixholesand a seventh dent, a long, smooathuggewhere a bullet had glanced off without bareking through.
We ehar so much gunfire, day and
gnhi t, singleshotsandoddburstsofautomaticweaponsfire,even
occasional blasts from heavy artillery
eoxr plosoi nsfromgrenadesorbiggerbombs.Weworry most baout
those last thign buytheillegal
s, but they're rarIet.'shardertostealbigweapons,andnotmany peoplearoundherecanaffordto
ones--orthat'swhatDadsays.Thethingis,weheargunfir eso much that wdeon't hear it. A couple of the Balter kdi ssaid they haerd shooting, buat susual, they paid no attention to it. It was outsidoe,ndbetyhe wall, after all. Most of uesarhd nothing xecepttherain.
Amy wsagoing to turn four aicnouple of weesk. I had pnlaned to give ehr a little party with artners.
God, I hate thisacpel.
kminyderg
I mean, I love it. It's home. Tahresemy peolpe. ButIhateit.It'slikeanislandsurroundedbysharks-- except thatsharksdon'tbotheryouunlessyougointhe water. But ouranld shark sare on theriway in.
Its' just a matter of how long kitestfaor them to gheut ngryenough. WEDNESDAY, MARCH 5, 2025
I wakled in the rain again stmhiorning. It wsacold, but good. Amy haslreaady been crme ated. I wodner
if her mothersrielieved. She deosn't lookrelieved. She never leikdAmy, but now she she'sfaking.Thefamilyhasspentmoneyitcould
ecsri. I don't think
not afford to get the police involved to try to find the kusilplec.t Ithsat the only good stwhiill do will be tochaseawaythepeoplewholiveonthesidewalks andstreetsnearesttoourwall.Isthatgood?Thestreet poo rwill
be back, and htey won't lovuesfor sickni g the cposon them. It's illegal to camoupt on the street the way they do-- tehway they must-- so the pcsoknock themaround, rob tehm if they have anythingorwth stea

ling, thenorder them away or jail them. The misle awbill be made even mmorieserable.Noneofthatcan helpAmy.Isuppose,though, that it will make theunDns feel betetr about the way they treateedr.h
On Saturday, Dad will preach Amy's funeral. I wish I didn't have to be tehrearlseh. aFvuennever bothered me beofre, but this noe does.
"You cared baout Amy," JoannGe arfield said to mwehenIcomplainedtoher.Wehadlunchtogethertoday. We ate in my beodrom because its' still
rainni goffandon,andtherestofthehousewasfull ofallthekidswhohadn'tgonehometoeatlunch.But my room is still mine. It's the onea pcle in thwe orldwhereIcangoandnotbefollowedbyanyoneI don't invite in. mI'the only person I know whoasha bedroom toerhself. Thesedays, even Dad adnCory knock before they
open my dor. That's
noe of the best thgisnabout being thoenly daughet rin the family. I heatvo kick my
brothers out of hear ll the time, but at least I can kick them ount.e Jiosanaonnlychild,butshesharesaroom withthreeyounger gircl ousins--whinyLisa,alwaysdemandingandcompl aining, smart, giggly Robniwith her
near-geniusI.Q.,andinvisibleJessicawhowhispers andstaresatherfeetandcriesifyougiveheradirty lookA. ll threeareBalters--Harry'ssistersandthe chidl renofJoanne'smother'ssister.Thetwoadult siset rs,theirhusbands, theireightchildren,andtheir parentsMr.andMrs.Doryareallsqueezedintoonefive-bedroomh ouse. It isn't the most crowdedhouse in the neighobrhood, but I'm glad I nd'tohave to livliekethat.
"Almost no oencared about Amy," Joanensaid. "But you did."
"After the fire, I d"iId,said. "I got scaredor fher then. Before that, I ignohreerd likeeveryoneelse." "So now yo'rue feelingguilty?"
"No."
"Yes, you are."
I looked at h,seurrprised. "I mean it. No. I hate sthhea'stdead,andImissher,butIdidn'tcauseherdeath. I
just can't
edny what all thsisays about us."
"What?"
I felt on the verge of talking tobhoeurt
athingsI hadn't talked baout before. I'd writtenboaut them.
Sometimes I write to keep from nggocirazy. There's a wolrd of things I don't feeeletfor about.
talk to anyone
BuJt oanneisafriend.Sheknowsmebetterthanmost people, an dshe has abrain. Why not talk to hero?oSne r or laetr, I have to talk to somnee.o
"Wha'tswrong?"sheasked.Shehadopeneda plasticcontainerofbeansalad.Nowsheputitdownon my night table.

"Don't you evrwe onder if maybe Amy and Mrs. Sims areutchkey lones?" I asked. "I mean, nd'toyou everwonderwhat'sgoingtohappentotherestofus." Therewasaclapofdull,muffledthunder,anda suddenheavy shower.Radioweatherreportssaytoday's rain will be thaestl of the four-adyserie sof storms. I hope not.
"Sure I think oaubt it," Joanne said. "With oppele shooting little kids, ohw can I not think oaubt it?" "Peoplehavebeenkillinglittlekidssincethere've
beenpeople,"Isaid.
"Not in here, they haven't. Not until now."
"Yes, that's it, isn't it. We got a wpackael-lu. Another one." "What are you talkianbgout?"
"Amy was the first of us etkoillbed like that. She won't be tahset."l
Joannesighed,andtherewasalittleshudderinthesigh. "So you think so, too."
"I do. BtIu didn't know you otuhght about it at all."
"Rape, robbery, andown
murder. Of course I think about it. Everyone thinokust aibt. Everyone
worries. I wish I clodu get out of here." "Wherewouldyougo?"
"That's it, isn't it? Thereo'swnhere to go." "There might be."
"Not if you don't have money. Not if all yoowu hkonw to disotakecare of babeisandcook." I shok my head. "Younokw much more thanthat."
"Maybe, but none of it matters. I wonab'tlebeto afford cloelge. I won't baeble to get a jobmoorveoutof myparents'housebecausenojobIcouldget wouldsupportmeandtherearenosafeplacestomove. Hell, my parents are still livingwith their parenst."
"I know," I said. "Andbaads as that is, etrhe's more."

"Whoneedsmore?That'senough!"Shebegantoeat the bean salad. It lookdgeood, but I thought I might be about to riunit for her.
"There'scholeraspreadinginsouthernMississippiand Louisiana," I said. "I heardboaut it on the radio yesterd ay. There are too amny poorpeople-- illiterate, jobless, hmoeless, without decent sanitatioonrclea nwater. They have lepnty of water down there, but a lot of it is polluted. Anndowyothuatdkrugthatmake speoplewanttosetfires?"
Shenodded,chewing.
"It'sspreadingagain.Itwasontheeastcoast.Nowit's in Cih cago. The reportssay that it maeks watching a firebetter than sex. I don't kwnwo hetherthereportersarecondemningitoradvertisingit."I drewadeepbreath. "Tornadoesaresmashinghellout of Alabama, Kentucky, Teensnsee, and two orthreeotherstates.Threehun
dredpeopledeadso farA.
ndthere'sablizzardfreezingthenorthern midwest,killingevenmorepeople.InNewYo
rkand NewJersey,ameaslesepidemiciskillingpeople. Measles!"
"I heard baout the maesles," Joanne said. "Strange. Even if peoplaen'tc afford immuinzations, measles sh ouldn't kill."
"Those peopelare half dead lraeady," I told her. "They've comehrtough the winetrcold, hungry,
already sick with
hoet r diseases. And, no, of course they can't afformd uinmizations. We're lucky
uor
parents found the money to pay for all our imizmatuionns. If we haevkids, I don't seeowh do even that for them.
"Iknow,Iknow."Shesoundedalmostbored.
we'll be able to
"Thingsarebad.Mymotherishopingthisnewguy,President Don ner, will satrt to get usacbk tonormal."
"Normal," I muttered. "I wonrdwehat that is. Do you
eaegwr ith yourmother?"
"No. Dnonerhasn't got a cahnce. I think he owuld fix things if heoucld, but Harry says scary.Harrysayshe'llsetthecountrybackahundred years."
"My fathesrayssomething lki e that. I'msurprised that Harry ageer s."
ihs ideas are
"Hewould.HisownfatherthinksDonnerisGod.Harry wouldn't agre ewith him on anything."
Ilaughed,distracted,thinkingaboutHarry'sbattles withhisfather.Neighborhoodfireworks--plentyofflash, but no real fire.
"Why do you want to talk abouststuthffi," Joanneasked,bringingmebacktotherealfire."Wecan'tdoanything about it."
"We have to." "Havetowhat?We're15!Whatcanwedo?"

"Wecangetready.That'swhatwe'vegottodonow.
Get ready for wh'sagtoingto happen, get raedy to survive it, get ready to emaaklife afterward. Getfocu sedonarrangingtosurvivesothatwecandomore tha njust get batteadround by crazy epople,desperatepeo ple,thugs,andleaderswhodon'tkno wwhat they're diong!"
She just asrted at me. "I don't okwnwhat you're talking baout."
I was roinllg-- too fast, maybe. "I'm talkinbgouat this place, Jo, this cduel-sacwith a wall
oarund it. I'm
talkingaboutthedayabiggangofthosehungry, desperatec, razypeopleoutsidedecidetocomein.I'm talking aob
ut what we've got to do oberef besomethingotherthan beggars."
thathappenssothatwecansurviveandrebuild--orat leastsurviveandescapeto
"Someone'sgoingtojustsmashinourwalland comein?"
"More likely blast it downrb, laost the gate open. It's going toppheansomeday. You konwthat as well as
I do."
"Oh, no I don't," she proetdes. t She sat up stigraht, almoststiff, her lucnh forgotten for the moment. I bit into a piece oacf orn bread that was full ofedrifruit and ntsu. It's a favorite of mine, but I managcehde to wandswallowwithouttastingit.
"Jo, w'ere in for otruble. You've laready admitted that." "Sure,"shesaid."Moreshootings,morebreak-ins.That' swhat I meant." "Andthat'swhatwillhappenforawhile.IwishI couldguesshowlong.We'llbehitandhitandhit,then the big hit will
come. And if we're nota redy forit,itwillbelikeJericho."
Sheheldherselfrigid,rejecting."Youdon'tknowthat! You can't
are dthe future. None can."
"You can," I said, "if you want to. aIrt'ys, sbcut once you get past the feare,asity's. In L.A. some weadll communitiesbiggerandstrongerthanthisonejustaren't there any more. Nothing left but rnusi, rats, and
squatters.Whathappenedtothemcanhappento us. We'll die hinereunlesswe get waystosurvive."
ubsy nowand workout
"If you think that, why don't you tell yourtsp?arWenarn them nad seewhat they say."
"I intend to asosnoas I think of a way to do it that will reach them. BesIitdheins.k . th. e.y already konw
. I think my father doaensy, way. I think
omst of the aduslkt now. They don't want to okwn, but they do."
"MymothercouldberightaboutDonner.Hereally coulddosomegood."
"NoN.
o,Donner'sjustakindofhumanbanister."

"A what?"
"I mean he'sikel. . .like a symbol of thaest pfor us to hold on to a'srewpeushed into the future. H'se nothing. Nosubstance. But having him etrhe, thelatestinatwo-and-a-half-century-longlineof Americanpresi dentsmakespeoplefeelthatthecou ntry, the culture that they gruepwwith is still
here--thatwe'llgetthroughthesebadtimesandback to normal." "Wecould,"shesaid."Wemight.Ithinksomeday wewill."No,shedidn't.Shewastoobrighttotakeanything but
the most sup erficial comfort from
tried another tactic.
ehr denial. But evenupserficial comfort is beetrt
than none, I egsus. I
"Didyoueverreadaboutbubonicplagueinmedieval Europe?" I asekd.
She noded. She erads a lot the way I do,dsreall kidns of things. "A lot of the continent waos dep pulated," she siad. "Some usrvivors thought theworldwascomingtoanend."
"Yes, but oncehety realized it wasn't, they alsroealizedtherewasalotofvacantlandavailableforthe taking, and if they had aadter, they reail zed they colud demand betterpay for their work. A lothionfgschangedf orthesurvivors."
"Wha'tsyour point?"
"The hcanges." I thought for a meonmt. "They were
sol wchangescomparedtoanythingthatmight happenhere,butittookaplaguetomakesomeof thepeoplerealize thatthingscouldchange."
"So?"
"Thingsarechangingnow,too.Ouradultshaven't beenwipedoutbyaplaguesothey'restillanchored inthepast, waitingforthegoodolddaystocomeback. But things havechanged a lot, and theyc'hllangemore.Thingsare alwayschanging.Thisisjust one of the bigmjups instead of the little
step-by-step chagnes thatare easierto take. Peoplheavechangedtheclimateoftheworld.Nowthey're waitingfortheolddaystocomeback."
"Yourfathersayshedoesn'tbelievepeoplechangedthe climate in spite of what sciiesntstsay. He syasonly
Godcouldchangetheworldinsuchanimportant way." "Do you believe mh?i "
She opneed her mouth, looked at me, nthcelosed it again. After a while, she said, "I don't know."
"Myfatherhashisblindspots,"Isaid."He'sthebest personIknow,butevenhehashisblindspots."

"It doesn't make any diffnecre," she said. "We can't makeectlhimate change back, no matter why it ach nged in the first apcle. You and Ianc't. The neigbhorhoodcan't. We cna't do anything."
Ilostpatience."Thenlet'skillourselvesnowandbedonewit hit!"
Shefrowned,herround,tooseriousfacealmostangry. She tore then?"shedemanded."Whatcanwe do?"
tbisof peel fromasmall naveol range."What
I put the last bite of my acorn dborewandand wentaroundhertomynighttable.Itookseveralbooksfrom the dee pbottom drawerandshowed them toher."ThisiswhatI'vebeendoing--readingandstudying the se over the past few monhts. These boksare old ikl e all the books in this huose. I'vealsobeenusingDad'scomp uterwhenheletsme--to get newstuff."
Frowning,shelookedthemover.Threebookson survivailnthewilderness,threeongunsand shooting,twoeach onhandlingmedicalemergencie s, California native nad naturalizedplantsandtheiruses,andbasicliving:log
cabin-building, livesot ck raising, palnt cultivations, oapmaking--thatkindofthing.Joannecaughton atonce. "What are you dogi?n" sheasked. "Trying to alern to live off the land?"
"I'm trying to learnhawtever I can that might lpheme survive out etrhe. I think we shlodu all study books
likethese.Ithinkweshouldburymoneyandothernecessities in thge
round where thieves won't find
them. I think wehosuld makeemergency packs--grabandrunpacks--incasewehavetogetoutofhere in ha u rry. Money, food, clothing, matecsh, a blnaket. .. I think we should fix placestsiodue where we camn eet
in casewe get seaprated. Hell, I thkina lot of thinsg. And kInow--Iknow!-- that no matterowh
many thin
gsI think of, they won't be uegnho. Every time I go outside, I try to imagine what it might be like to live out therewithout wals, and I reiazle I don't nkow anything."
"Thenwhy--"
"I intend to survivSe.h"ejuststared.
"I mean to learn everyntghIi can while I can," I said.
"If I find myself outside, maybe what I'veeldeawrnilhl elpmelivelongenoughtolearnmore." Shegavemeanervoussmile."You'vebeenreadingtoo many adventure ost ries," she said. Ifrowned.HowcouldIreachher."Thisisn'tajoke, Jo."
"What is it then?" She ate athste sel ction of her onrage. "What do yuowant me to say?"
"I want you to be osuersi. I reaizle I don't konwvery much. None ousfknows very much. But we acn all learnmore.Thenwecanteachoneanother.Wecanstop denying reality or hopni git will go away mbyagic."

"That's not
hwat I'm doing."
I lookeodut for a moment at the rain, calming myself.
"OkayO.
kay,whatareyoudoing?"
She looked uncomfortable. "I'm still not sure we can really donga."nythi
"Jo!"
"Tell me what I cdaonthat won't get me inoutrbleor make eevryone thni k I'm carzy. Just tell mseomethi ng."
At last. "Have you read all your fa'smbiolyoks?"
"Some of them. Not all. They aren't all weoardthingr. Books aren't gnogi to saveus."
"Nothingisgoingto save us. If we nd'tosave ourselevs, we're dead. Now use your imgaination. Is there anythingon your family bookshelves that mighhtelpyouifyouwerestuckoutside?"
"No."
"You answer too fast. Go homaned lookagain. And like I sauids,e your imagination. Any kind of survival
informationfromencyclopedias,biographies,anything that hepl rselves. Even some fiction migbhet useful."
She gave me adesliongglance. "I'll bet," she idsa. "Jo, if you never needisitnhformation, it won't do
syou learn to live off the land adefend uo
you any harm. You'ullstj knowa little more than you did before. So what? By the way, do youetake not swhenyouread?"
Guarded olok. "Sometimes."
"Readthis."Ihandedheroneoftheplantbooks. ThisonewasaboutCaliforniaIndians,theplants theyused,andh owtheyusedthem--aninteresting, entertaininglittlebook.Shewouldbesurprised. Therewasnothinginittoscareh

erorthreatenher orpushher.IthoughtIhadalreadydoneenoughofthat. "Take notes," I told her. "You'll remember better if you do."
"I still don't believe you," she said. "Tshdionng't have to be asadb as yuosay they are."
I put the book inteor hhands. "Hang on to your notes," I said. "Paeyciaspl attention to the pltasnthat growbetweenhereandthecoastandbetween hereandOregonalongthecoast.I'vemarkedthem."
"I said I don't believe you." "I don't care."
Shelookeddownatthebook,ranherhandsover theblackcloth-and-cardboardbinding."Sowelearnto eat grass and live in the bhuses," she muttered.
"We laern to usrvive," I said. "It's a good boToakk.e care of it. You knowowh my father aisbout hisbooks." THURSDAY, MARCH 6, 2025
Therainstopped.Mywindowsareonthenorthside ofthehouse,andIcanseethecloudsbreakingup. They'reb eingblownoverthemountainstowardthe desertS. urprisinghowfasttheycanmove.Thewind isstrongandcoldno w.Itmightcostusafewtrees.
Iwonderhowmanyyearsitwillbebeforewesee rainagain.
6
Drowningpeople Sometimesdie Fightingtheirrescuers. EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING SATURDAY, MARCH 8, 2025
Joannetold.
She told her mhoetr who told ehr fatherwho told mfyatherwhohadoneofthoseserioustalkswithme. Damnh er. Damnher!
IsawhertodayattheservicewehadforAmyand yesterdayatschool.Shedidn'tsayawordabout whast hehadd one.Itturnsoutshetoldhermotheron Thu rsday. Maybe it was spuopsed to be a secret

between them rosomething. But, oh, PhillidGaarfieldwassoconcernedforme,soworried. And shedidn'tlike myscaringJoanne.WasJoanne scared?Notscaredenoughtouseherbrain,it seems.Joannealwaysseemedsose nsible.Didshe thinkgettingmeintotroublewouldmakethedangergo away? No, thatn's ot it. This is just more denial: A
dumb little game of "If we don't tbaolkut abad thigns, maybe they won'taphpen." Idiot! I'll never be able to tell her anything piomrtant again.
What if I'd beenomre open. What if I'd talked reloigni to
talk to anyoneboaut that?
with her? I'd wanted to. wHwoill I ever be able
What I did say workesdwiaty back to me tognhi t. Mr. Garfield tkaled to Dad after the funeral. It was
like the whisepringgame that little kids play. The megsesawent all
ethway from, "W'ere in
adnger hereand
we'regoing to have to workardh
to save ourseelvs." to "Laureinstalking about runinng awaybecauseshe's
afraidthatoutsidersaregoingtoriot andteardownthewallsandkillusall." Well, I had idsasomeofthat,andJoannehadmade
it clear thathes didn't garee with me. But I hadn't ljeuttshtebadpredictionsstandalone:"We'regoingtodie, boo-hoo." What would be the point of that? Still, only the negative stuffehocamme to me.
"Lauren, what did
uysoay to Jaonne?" my fathedremanded.Hecametomyroomafterdinnerwhen
heshouldhavebeendoinghisfinalworkon tomorrow'ssermon.Hesatdownonmyonechairand sta red at me in a way that meant, "Werhe isyourmind,girl?What'sthematterwithyou?"That lookplusJoanne'snametoldmew hathad happened,whatthiswasabout.MyfriendJoanne. Damnher!
I sat on my bed anodkelodback at him. "I told her we were risnomfoebad, dangeroustimes," I said. "I
warnedherweoughttolearnwhatwecouldnowsowe coul dsurvive."
Thawt
aswhenhetoldmehowupsetJoanne's motherwas,howupsetJoannewas,andhowtheyboth thought I
needed to "talk to msoeone," because Ithoughtourworldwascomingtoanend.
"Doyouthinkourworldiscomingtoanend?"Dadasked, and with no waring at all, I almost setadrt crying. I
had all I coldu do to hold it back.haWt I thought was, "No, I thkyinourworld
si coming to an end, and
maybe you with it." That was terrible. I hadnu'tghtht oabout it in such aersponalway before. I turendand lookedout a wnidowuntil I felt calemr. When I faced himgaain, I said. "Yes. oDn'tyou?"
He forwned. I don't think he eexcpted me to say that. "You're fifteen," he idsa. "You don't really

understand what'sgoingonhere. The porblemswehavenowhavebeenbuildingsincelongbeforeyouwere born."
"I know."
Hewasstillfrowning.Iwonderedwhathewantedme to say. "What ewre you diong, then?" haesked. "Why did you sayosthe thingsto Joanne?"
I decieddto go on telling the truthafsolorngas Icould. I hate to lie to him. "Wshaaitd Iwastrue," Iinsisted. "You don't have to say evernygthyiou think you konw," he said. "Haven't you figured that out yet?" "Joanne and I were ifernds," I said. "I thought I couldktotalher." Heshookhishead."Thesethingsfrightenpeople.It' sbest not to tkalabout them."
"But, Dad, that's like. . .like iignngora fire in tlhiveingroombecausewe'reallinthekitchen,and, besides,ho usefiresaretooscarytotalkabout."
"Don't wanrJoanneorany of your oethr friends," hesaid. "Not now.kInow you thiknyou're right, but you'renotdoinganyoneanygood.You'rejust panickingpeople."
Imanagedtosuppressasurgeofangerbyshiftingthe subject a little. Sometimes the way to move Distoadgoat himfromseveraldirections.
"Did Mr.
aGrfield give you abck yourbook?" I asked.
"Whabt ook?"
"IloanedJoanneabookaboutCaliforniaplantsandthe way Indinas used them. It woanse of your books. I'm sorry I loaned it to her. It's so neutral, I
didn't think itoucld cause trouble. But I guess iat sh." He lokedstartled, then he alomst smiel d. "Yes, I
will have to have that onaeckb, all right. Yowuouldn'thavetheacornbreadyoulikesomuch withouthatone
--nottomentionafewotherthingswe take for granted."
"Acorn bread. . . ?"
He ondded. "Most of the people inistchountry don't eat aocrns, you konw. They have noadtrition of
eating them, they don'tnokwhow to preapre them, and for someasroen, they find the idea of eating them disgusting. Some of our ingehbors wanted tocutdownallourbigliveoaktreesandplantsomethingu seful. You wouldn't beileve the timehIadchangingtheirminds."

"Whadt idpeopleeatbefore?"
"Breadmadeofwheatandothergrains--corn,rye,oat s. . .thinsglike that." "Too expnesive!"
"Didn'ut setobe.YougetthatbookbackfromJoanne." Hed rewa deep breath. "Now, le'st kandbackontothemaintrack.What
were you pnlaning?Did you try to talkaJnone intorunningaway?" Then I shiged. "Of cuorse not."
"Her fatehrsaysyou did."
get oftfhesidetrac
"He'swrong.Thiswasaboutstayingalive,learningto live outside so thate'wdb eable to if we everadh to." Hewatchedmeasthoughhecouldreadthetruthinmy mind. When I aws little, I used to think he could.
"All right," he said. "You may have meant well, but no morelks.c"are ta
I thought he wlodu yell at me or pisuhn me. His voice had had that warnindggee to it that my brothaenrs d I had come to call the ratatlsein--arattlesnake's warningsound. If you pushedimh past the rattle,
you were in trolueb. If he called youon"s" or
"daughet r"youwereclosetotrouble. "Why?" I insiesdt .
"Becauseyoudon'thaveanyideawhatyou're doing,"hesaid.Hefrownedandrubbedhis forehead.Whenhespo keagain,theedgewentoutof his voice. "It's better to teachopplee than to sac re them, Lauren. If you scare them andnothing happens, they lose their feanr,d you olse some of your auothrity with them. It's hdaerr
to scare them saecond time, harder to tceha them, harder to win back their trust. Best to beginacby te hing." Hismouthcrookedintoalittlesmile."It'sinterestingthat
youchosetobeginyoureffortswiththebookyou lentoJoanne.Didyoueverthinkofteachingfromthat book?" "Teaching. . .my kindgearrtners?"
"Why not. Get them starotendthe right foot. Yocuouldevenputtogetheraclassforolderkidsandadults. Something likeM r. Ibarra's wodcarvingclass,Mrs.Balter'sneedleworkclasses,andyoungRob ert Hsu's as tronomy lectures. Poeple are boredT.heywouldn'tmindanotherinformalclassnowthatthey've lost the Yannis
television. If you can
nthki of ways to eentrtain them nad teach them at themsea time, you'll get your
informationout. And all without mankgianyone lookdown." "Lookdown. . .?"
"Into the abyss, aDughter," But I wasn't in troleubany more. Not at the moment. "You've just endotic the abyss," he conntui ed. "The daults in this comunity have beebnalancing at the dege of it for more ayr e s thanyou've been alive."

I got up, went over to him aonkdhitsohand. "It'sgettingworse,Dad." "I know."
"Maybe it's time to look down. Time to look for somendhafnodota hodlsbefore we ujst get pusehd in."
"That's why we have target pircaectevery wekandLazorwireandouremergencybell.Yourideaforemergen cy packs is aoogd one. Some peolpe
already have them. Forarethquakes. Somewill assemblethem if I sugegst it. And, of course, sowmoen't doanythingatall.Therearealwayspeople whowon'tdoanything."
"Will you suggest it?"
"Yes. At the next neighborohdassociation meeting." "What else cnawedo? None of this iasstf enough."
"It will have to be." He stood up, a taldl,wbarlloaofaman."Whydon'tyouaskaround,seeifanyonein the
neighborhoodsknowsanythingaboutmartialarts. You dableunarmedcombat."
I blinked. "Okay." "CheckwitholdMr.HsuandMr.andMrs.Montoya." "Mr.an dMrs.?"
"I think so. Talk to themouatbcal sses, not about
Armageddon."
ened more than aoobko rtwo to laerngooddepen
I lookeudpat him, and he olkoedmore like a wathllanever,standingandwaiting.Andhehadoffered mealot-- allIwouldget,Isuspected.Isighed.
"Okay, Dad, I proisme. I'll try not toarsec anyone else. I just us to do it your way."
pheo thingshold together longenough for
And he echeod my sigh. "At last. Goodo. wN come out back with me.heTreare some important things buried in the yard in seedacl ontainers. It's time for you toowknwhere they are-j-ust in case."
SUNDAY, MARCH 9, 2025
TodayD,
adpreachedfromGenesissix,Noahand theark:"AndGodsawthatthewickednessofmanwas gre at in

the earth, and that every igminaation ofthethoughtsandofhisheartwasonlyevilcontinually. And it repented
theL ord that hhead made man on the aerth, and it grieved him aist
heart. And theoLrd said, I will
destroy man whom I have created ofmr
the face of thearteh; both mana,ndbeast,andthecreepingthingand
thefowlsofthe air; for it repenteth me that I havde emthaem. But Noah fonud grace in the eeysof the
Lord."
And then, of ucrose, later Godsays to Noah, "Maktheeeanarkofgopherwood;roomsshaltthoumakein the ark, and hsalt pitch it within adnwithout with pitch."
Dadfocusedonthetwo-partnatureofthissituation. GoddecidestodestroyeverythingexceptNoah,hisfamily,
and some ainmals
B. utif Noah sigoing to be saved, he hasenptyl
of hard
owrk to do.
Joannecametomeafterchurchandsaidshewassorry for all the craziness. "Okay," I said.
"Stilflriends?"sheasked.
And I hedged: "Nont eemies, anyway. Get my fathsebr'ookbackto me. Hewantsit." "My mother took it. I didn'ot wksnhe'd get so puset."
"It isn't hers. Get it back to me. Or hauvrdeadyogive it to mine. I don't care. But he wisanbtosohk." "All right."
Iwatchedherleavethehouse.Shelooksso trustworthy--tallandstraightandseriousandintelligent-- I still feel inclined to trusther. But I canI'td.on't.Shehasnoideahowmuchshecouldhavehurt me if I had given her just a few more words to usaegain st me. I don't think I'll eveurst trher gaain, and I hate that. She was me y b st friend. Nwo sheisn't.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 12, 2025
Garden thieves got in last night. They psptreidcitrus trees of fruit in the Hsu yard and tlhceottTayard. In the process, they tramlped what was left of wintgerardensandmuchofthespringplanting.
Dadsayswehavetosetuparegularwatch.He triedtocallaneighborhoodassociationmeetingfor tonightb, utit'sa worknightforsomepeople, incul dingGaryHsuwhosleepsoverathisjob wheneverhehastoreportinperson.
We're supposedtogettogetherforameetingonSaturday.Meanwhile, Dad got Jay Garfield, Wyatt and Kayla
Talcott, Alex Montoya, and Edwin Dunn together to patroltheneighborhoodinshiftsinarmedpairs.That

meant that except for thelcToatts whoare already paair(andwhoaresoangryabouttheirgardenthatIpity any thief who gets in therwi ay), the others havtoefindpartnersamongtheotheradultsofthe neighborhood.
"Find smo eone you trust to protect youracbk," I heard for two housrfrom just before dakrto just after
aDd tell the little group. Eapcahir was to patrol
dawn. The first patrol, lwkiang through or loking intoallthebackyardswouldgetpeopleusedtotheideaof watchers whlie they were still awake enough utnoderstand.
"Makesure they see you if you get firsttchw,"a Dad said. "Tehsight of you will reinmd them that there will be wtachers all thruogh the night. Wdeon't want any of them mistnagki you for thieves."
Sensible.Peoplegotobedsoonafterdarktosave electricity,butbetweendinneranddarknessthey spendtimeon theirporchesorintheiryardswhereitisn't soh ot. Some listen to their radio on frobntacokrporches.Nowand thenpeoplegettogethertoplay music, sing, play baordg ames, talk, or get out on the pavaerdt opf the
street for volleyball,
utoch football, basketbalol,rtennis. People used to play baseball, but wuset jcan't
afford what that ocsts inwindows.Afewpeoplejustfindacornerandreada bookwhilethere'sstilldaylight.It'sa good,comfo rtable, recreational time. What a pity to spoil it
with reminders of erality. But it can't be pheedl .
"What will you do if you catch a thief?" Cory asked my fathehrewbenfotreout. He
aws on the second
shift,andheandCorywerehavingararecupof coffeetogetherinthekitchenwhilehewaited. Coffeewasforspecial occasions.Icouldn'tmissthegoo dsmell of it in my roomewreh I lay aawke.
I eavesdrop. I don't put drningkgilasses to walsl
or coruch with my eagr ainst doors, but I do often alwie
akelongafterdarkwhenwekidsareall supposedtobeasleep.Thekitchenisacrossthehall from my room, the
dinin groom is
enarby at the end of the hall, and meyntps'arroomisnext doorT. hehouseisoldandwellin
sulated.Ifthere'sashut doorbetweenmeandtheconversation,Ican'thearmuch. But at night with all oorstmof the lights out, I caenavle my door poen a carck, and if other doors arealsoopen,Icanhearalot.Ilearnalot.
"We'll chase him off, I hope," Daid. s"aWe'veagreedtothat.We'llgivehimagoodscareandlethim kno w there are aesier ways to get a daorl.l"
"A dollar. . . ?"
"Yes, indeedO. ur thieves didn't setal all that foobdecausetheywerehungry.Theystrippedthosetrees-- too keverything they colud."
"Iknow," Corysaid. "I tokosome lemonsandgrapefruitstoboththeHsusandtheWyattstoday andtoldthem theycouldpickfromourtreeswhen
they needemd ore. I took thmesomeseed, too. They both had a lot of youanngtsptlrampled, but this early in the saeson, they sohuld be bale torepairthedamage."
"Yes." My father paused. "But you see my point. Peeoapllethsatt way for money. Th'reey not
desperate. Justgreedy and
adngerous. We mgiht beabletoscarethemintolookingforeasierpickings."
"But what if you can't?o" ryC asked, almost wishpering. Her voice fell so low that I wasidaIfwraould misssomething.

"If you can't, will you shoot them?" "Yes," he said.
"..yes?" she erpeatedin that samesmall voice.
"Just..'yes?'"ShewaslikeJoannealloveragain--denial personified. What plnaet do poeple like that live on? "Yes," my fathesraid.
"Why!"
Therewasalongsilence.Whenmyfatherspokeagain, his own vioce had gone very soft. "Babyt,heisfep eoplestealenough,they'llforceustospend morethanwecanaffordonfood--orgohungry.Welive on the edgae s it is." You konwhow hard thignsare."
"But. . .couldn't wuestj call thpeolice?"
"Forwhat?Wecan'taffordtheirfees,andanyway, they'renotinteresteduntilafteracrimehasbeen committed. Even then, if you call them, they swhoown'ut pforhours--maybenotfortwoorthreedays." "I know."
"What are you sayingenth? You want the dksito gohungry?Youwantthievescomingintothehouse once they'vestrippedthegardens?"
"But they haven't done that."
"Of course they have. Mrs. Simass wonly thier latest vcitim."
"Shelivedalone.Wealwayssaidsheshouldn'tdothat."
"You want to trust thneomt to hurt you or thedskjui stbecausetherearesevenofus?Baby,wecan'tlive by pretendin gthis is still tewnty or thirty years ago."
"Buyt oucouldgotojail!"Shewascrying--not sobbing,butspeakingwiththatvoice-full-of-tears thatshecanman agesometimes.
"No," Ddasaid. "If we have toosoht someone, we're together in it. After we'hvoet shim wecarry him into the nearest ohuse. It's still legal toosohthousebreakers.Afterthatwedoalittledamageandget our sot straight."
Long, lognsilence. "You coudlstill get in trouble."
ries

"I'll risk it."
Another lnogsilence. "`Thou hsalt not kill,'" Corwyhispered. "Nehemiah four," Dad said. "Verse 14."
There was nothni gmore. A few minutes elart, I heard
aDd leave. I waited until I hdeCaor rygoto her
room and shut the door. hTen I got up, shut my door, moved mypsloamthe light wounld't showunderthe door,thenturneditonandopenedmy
grandmother'sBible.ShehadhadalotofBiblesand
Dadhadletmekeepthisone.
Nehemiah, chapterfour, Verse 14: "And I lookaenddroseupandsaiduntothenobles,andtotherulers, and to the rest of the oppele, be not afiradof
themr:emembertheLordwhichisgreatandterrible,and fight for youbr rethren, yoursons, and yuordaughters, yourwivesandyourhouses."
Interesting. Interesting that Dahdad that verse ready, and that Coercyogr nized it. Maybe they'vheadthis conversationbefore.
SATURDAY, MARCH 15, 2025
Its' official.
Nowwehavearegularneighborhoodwatch--a rosterofpeoplefromeveryhouseholdwhoareover eighteeng, o odwithguns--theirownandothers'--and con sidered responsible by my fathernda by thpeeoplewhohavealr eadybeenpatrollingthe
neighborhood. Since none of the watcehrs haveeverbeencopsorsecurityguards,they'llgoon workingin pairs,watchingoutforeachotheraswell asfortheneighborhood.They'llusewhistlestocallfor help if they need it. Also, they'll meet once a wekteo read, dicsuss, and prcatice martial arstand shoot-out techniques. The Montoyas will give their martialtsacrlasses, all right, but not at myggesustion. Old Mr. Hsu hiasving back problems,andhewon'tbeteachinganythingforawhile,butthe Montoya sseem to be neough. I plan to sit in on the cal sses as often as I cannsdtato shareveryone'spracticepains.
Dadhascollectedallhisbooksfrommethismorning. All I have left are my notes. I don't mThinandk. stothega rdenthieves,peoplearepreparingthemselve sfor the worst. I feel almost grateful to the tsh. ieve
They haven't comeacbk, by the way-- our theiesv. Whenthey do, we hsould beable to give them something they don't exepct.

SATURDAY, MARCH 29, 2025
Our thieevs paid us naother visit alst night. Maybe they weren't the samnes,o but their intentiosnwere the same: To take away what
someoneelsehassweatedtogrowandverymuch needs.
Thsi time they were after Richard Ms'ossrabbits.Thoserabbitsaretheneighborhood'sonlylivestock except forsomechickenstheCruzandMontoyafamilies tried to raise a few years ago. Those wstoerlenassoonas theywereoldenoughtomakenoise and let ouitdsers know htey were there. The Mosasbbr its havebeeno ur secret until this yaerwhenRichardMossinsistedonsellingmeatand whateverhiswivescouldmakefromraworta
nnedrabbit hdi
es outbeyond the wall. The Mossheasd beenselling tousall along, of course, meat, ehsid,
fertilizer, everything except live rabtsb.i Those hheoardedasbreedingstock.Butnow,stubborn,arrogant, andg reedy, he had edcided he couledarnmoreifhepeddledhismerchandiseoutside.So, nowthewordisouton thestreetaboutthedamnedrabbit s, and alst night smo eone cameto get themT.heMossrabbithouseisa convertedthree-car
garageaddedtothepropertyinthe1980saccordingto Dad. It's hard to believe anyushehoold onceh ad three cars, and ags fueel dcars at that. ButreImembertheoldgaragebeforeRichardMoss convertedit.Itwas hugewiththreeblackoilspotson thefloorwherethreecarshadoncebeenhoused.Richard Moss repiared the wallsand roof, put inwindowsforcrossventilation,andingeneral,madethe place almost fit for people to live in. In fact, it's
muchbetter than what a lot of people liveowin onntheoutside.Hebuiltrowsandtiersofcages--hutches-- and put in more electric lights and ceilfianngsT. hefanscanbemadetoworkonkidpower. He'shookedthem uptoanoldbicycleframe,and everyMosskidwho'soldenoughtomanagethe pedalssoonerorlatergetsdrafted intopoweringthefans. The Mosskidshate it, but they kwnowhat they'll get if they don't do it.
Idon'tknowhowmanyrabbitstheMosseshave nowb, utitseemsthey'realwayskillingandskinningand doin gdis gusting thingsto pelts. Even a little mopnooly is worth a lot of trouble.
Thetwothieveshadmanagedtostuff13rabbitsintocanva ssacks by the time our twchaersspotted
themT. hewatcherswereAlejandroMontoyaand JuliaLincoln,oneofShaniYannis'ssisters.Mrs. Montoyahas twokidssickwithflusoshe'soffthe watchrosterforawhile.
MrsL. incolnandMr.Montoyafollowedtheplanthat thegroupofwatchershadputtogetherattheirmeeting s. Without a word of comamnd orwarning,theyfiredtheirgunsintotheairtwoorthreetimeseach, at the same time, blowing thei rwhistles fulbl last.Theykepttocover,butinsidetheMosshouse, someonewokeupandturne dontherabbithouse lightsT. hatcouldhavebeenalethalmistakeforthewatchers, but they were hdiedn behind p

omeg ranate bushes.
Thetwothievesranlikerabbits.
Abandoningsacks,rabbits,prybars,alongcoilof ropew,
irecutters,andevenanexcellentlongaluminum al dder,
they scrambled up that dladera ndoverthewallinseconds.Ourwallisthreemeters highandtoppedoffwithpiece sofbrokenglassas welal stheusualbarbedwireandtheallbutinvisible Lazorwire.Allthewirehadbeencutinspiteof
oureffort s. What a pity we couldn't afford toctreiflye
it or set other traps. But at least athsse--gltheolde
st, simpel st of our itcrks--had gotten one of them. Wfouendabroadstreamofdriedblooddowntheinsideof the wall this morning.
WealsofoundaGlock19pistolwhereoneofthe thieveshaddroppedit.Mrs.LincolnandMr. Montoyacould
havebeenshot.Ifthethieveshadn't beenscaredoutoftheirminds,therecouldhavebeen a
ugn battle. Someonie n
the Moss
ohuse or a neighboinrg housecould have been hurt or killed. Cory went afatedr aDbout that
once they weraeloneinthekitchentonight.
"Iknow,"Dadsaid.Hesoundedtiredandmiserable.
"Don't thnik we haevn't thought baout those thigns. Thats' why wewant to scarehet ooting into the airsni'tsafe. Nothings' safe."
"They raanway this time, but they won't always run." "I know."
thievesaway. Evensh
"So what, then? You protect ratsbobri
oranges, and maybe get a cldhi killed?"
Silence.
"We can't leivthis way!"Cory shouted. I jumped. I'vneeverheardhersoundlikethatbefore. "Wedolivethisway,"Dadsaid.Therewasnoanger inhisvoice,noemotionalresponseatalltoher shouting.There
wasnothing.Weariness.Sadness.I've never haerd him sonud so tierd, so. . . almosbteatenA.
ndyethehad
won.Hisideahadbeatenoff apairofarmedthieveswithoutourhavingtohurtanyone. If the thieves hadurth themselves, that was theirproblem.
Of course they woduclomeback, or othesrwouldcome.Thatwouldhappennomatterwhat.AndCorywas right. The next thieves igmht not lose their ngsu andrunaway.Sowhat?Shouldwelieinourbeds andletthem takeallwehadandhopetheywere contentwithstrippingourgardens?Howlongdoesathief stay content? And what'sit like to starve?
"Wecouldn'tmakeitwithoutyou,"Corywassaying. Shewasn'tshoutingnow."Thatcouldhavebeenyou out there, facin gcriminals. Next time it might yboeu.Youcouldbeshot,protectingtheneighbors'rabbit s."
"Did you notice," Dad said, "that every off-duty watcheransweredthewhistleslastnight?Theycameo ut to defend threciommunity." "I don't careboaut them! It's you I'morwriedabout!"

"No," he said. "Weanc't think that way anyorme. Cory, there'nsobody to help us butodG andourselve s.IprotectMoss'splaceinspiteofwhatI thinkofhim,andheprotectsmine,nomatterwhathe thinks of me. We all
loo kout for itallrightif--"
noe another." He puased. "I've got plenty of insurance. You andkidthssehouldbeabletomake
"No!" Cory said. "Do younkthithat's all it is?oMney?Doyouthink--?"
"No, Babe. No." Pause. "I
wknwohat it is to be
aleloftne.Thisisnoworldtobealonein."
Therewasalongsilence,andIdidn'tthinktheywould say any more. I lay on my bed, wionngdeifr I soh uld get up nad shut my door so I could turn on my lamp and write. Butasthearelitwtle more.
"Whaat rewesupposedtodoifyoudie?"she demanded,andIthinkshewascrying."Whatdowedo if they shoot you over some dman rabbits?"
"Live!" Dad said. "Th'saatll anybody candoright now. Live. Hooldut. Survive. I don't know wheertghood timesarecomingbackagain.ButIknowthatwon't matter if wdeon't survive these times."
Thawt
astheendoftheirtalk.Ilayinthedarkfora longtime,thinkingaboutwhattheyhadsaid.Cory wasrightagain.
Dadmightgethurt.Hemightget
killed. I don'tnokwhow to thnik about that. I can writbeouat it, but I don't feel it. On soemepe dlevel, I
don't believe it. I guess I'mgoaosd at
ednial asanyone.
So Cory isighr t, but it doesn't matter. dADnad isright,buthedoesn'tgofarenough.GodisChange,and in the end, God prevails. But God ext issto be sahped. It isn't enuogh forusto just usrvive, limpingalong,playingb usinessasusualwhilethingsgetworseand worse. If that's the asphe we give to oGd, thensomedaywemustbe cometooweak--toopoor,too hungry, too sick-- tdo efendourselves. Then we'bllewipedout.
There
ahs to be more that waen cdo, a better destiny thaet cwan shape. Another
lpace. Another way.
Something!
7
We are all Gdsoeed, but no more or elss so thaanny otheraspect of the universGe,odseedisallthereis--all thatChanges. Earthseedi sall that spredas Earthlife to newareths. The universies
Godseed. Only we are Eharsteed. And the
eDstiny of Earthseed is to taekroot amongthestars.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
SATURDAYA,
PRIL26,2025

Sometimesnamingathing--givingitanameor discoveringitsname--helpsonetobegintounderstand it. Knowing then ame of a thginand knowingwhatthatthingisforgivesmeevenmoreof ahandleonit.
TheparticularGod-is-Changebeliefsystemthatseems right to me will be lceadl Earthseed. I've tried to name it before. Failing that, I've tried to leave itmuedn.naNeith er effort has mdaeme comfortable.Name pluspurposeequalsfocusforme.
Well, today, I found the name, found it whialeswIeewdingthebackgardenandthinkingabouttheway plants seedthemselves,windborne,animalborne,waterbo rne, far from thire parent plants. They have no ability at
all to travel great distances under irthoewnpower, and yet, they do travel. Even they don't have to just sit in one palceand wait to be wiped
outT. hereareislandsthousandsofmilesfrom anywhere--theHawaiianIslands,forexample,and EasterIsland-- whereplantsseededthemselvesand grewlongbeforeanyhumansarrived.
Earthseed.
I am Earthseed. Anyone cnabe. Someday, I think there will be a lot of us. And I think we'll headve to se ourselvesfarther and afrther from this dying
place.
I've never felt that I smwaking any of tshui p-- not thneame,Earthseed,notanyofit.Imean,I've never felt
that it was anything hoetr than eral: discovery rahter thaninvention, exploration rather than creation. I wish I couldbelieve it was aslulpernatural,andthatI'mgettingmessagesfromGod. But then, I don't believe in that kind of God. All I do is obsernvde taaken otes, trying to put thgisn
down in ways thaarteaspowerful,assimple, andas direct as I feel them. I can ndeovtehrat. I keep trying, but I can't. I'm not good uegnhoasa writer or poet or whatever it is I need to be. I dwonw'thaktnoto do about that. It drives me fracnstoimetimes. I'm getting better, buot slsowly.
The thing is, envwe ith my writinpgroblems, every time I understand a little more, nIdewr owhy it'tsaken mesolong--whytherewaseveratimewhenI didn'tunderstandathingsoobviousandrealand true.
Here'sthe only puzzle in it all, the onlyadpoaxr, orbitofillogicorcircularreasoningorwhateverit shouldbe called:
Why is the universe? ThoapseGod. Why is God?
To shape the universe.
I can't get rid of it. I've tried to change
mit porit,dubutcaI n't.I cannot. It feels like the etsrut thing I've
ever written. It's as mystoeruisandasobviousas any other exapnl ation of Goodrthe universe that I've ever read, except that to me the others feel iqnuaadtee, at best.

AltlherestofEarthseedisexplanation--whatGodis, what God does, what we are, what
ewshould do, what
we can't help donig. . . . Condseir: Whetheryou'reahumanbeing,aninsect,amicrobe,orastone, this versie s true.
All that you tohu,cYouChange. All that you Change Changesyou.
The only lasting truth
Is Change. God
Is Change.
I'mgoingtogothroughmyoldjournalsandgatherthe ver sesI've written into one volume. I'll put them into one of the exercise noteoboks that Cory handsouttotheolderkidsnowthattherearesofewcomputers in the ngei
hborhood. I've written
I'll put one to betuterse.
epl nty ofuselessstuffinthosebooks,gettingmyhighschoolwork out of the way.owN
Thens, omedaywhenpeopleareabletopaymoreattention to what I say than to holdw Ioam, I'll use these
verse sto pry them
olose from the rotting apst, and maybe upsh them into sanvgi themselvesand building a
future that maksesense.
That's if everythginwill just hold together for a mfeowreyears. SATURDAY, JUNE 7, 2025
I've finally assemlebd a smallusrvival pack fomr yself--agrab-and-runpack.I'vehadtodigsome thingsIneed outofthegarageandtheatticsothat noonecomplainsaboutmytakingthingstheyneed. I'vecollectedahatchet,for
instance,andtwosmall,light, all-metal pots. hTere s'
plenty of stuff like thaartoundbecausenoonethrows
anythingawaythathas any possibility of someday being usefulsaolarble.
Ipackedmyfewhundreddollarsinsavings--almosta thousand. Itmigh tfeedmefortwoweeksifI'mallowed to kee pit, and if I'm very carefuhl awt I buy and where I bu.Iy'veit kept up with icpers,questioningDadwhe nheandtheotherneighborhoodmen do the essential shpoipng. Food pricesareinsane,alwaysgoingup,neverd own. Everyonecomplainsaboutthem.
Ifoundanoldcanteenandaplasticbottlebothforwater, and I resolved to keehpemt
cel an and full. I
packedmatches,afullchangeofclothing,including shoesincaseIhavetogetupatnightandrun, combs, oap,tooth
brushandtoothpaste,tampons,toilet paper,
abndages, pin s, needlesand threada, lcohol,aspirin,acoupleof
spoonsandforks,acanopener, my pocket knife, packetsaocforn fol ur,driedfruit,roastednutsandediblesee
ds,driedmilk,a little sugaarnd salt, my survival notes, plantablerawseed,myjournal,myEarthseed
eseravl plasticstoragebags,largeandsmall,alotof
notebook, and elngthsof clothesline. I stowed all thiniaspairofoldpillowcases,oneinsidetheotherfor strength. I rolled the pillowcases into a blanket pack and tied it mwietohf stohe clotehslineso that I

couldgrabitandrunwithoutlosingthings,butImade it easy to
eonp at the top so that I could get my journal in
and out, cahnge th ewater to keep firtesh,andlessoften,changethefoodandcheckon theseed.ThelastthingIw
antedtofindoutwasthatinstead of carrying
apl ntable seedoredible food, hIadaloadofbugsandworms.
IwishIcouldtakeagun.Idon'townoneandDadwon't let me ekep one of his in my room. I mean to try to
grab one if trouleb com es, but I may not be able to. It wouldazbye tcr wind up
tosuidewithnothingbuta
knifeandascaredlook,butitcouldhappen. Dadand Wyatt Talcott toouk sout for target pacr tice today, and afterward I tried to ktaDl ad into
letting me keepone of the gnus in my room.
"No," he sa,isditting down, tired anddusty, behni dhisdeskinhisclutteredoffice."Youdon'thaveanywhe re to
keep it safdeuringthe day, and the boys are aylwsina
andout of your room."
I hesitated, then told himouatb the emegrency pack that I had put together.
Henodded."Ithoughtitwasagoodideabackwhenyou first sgu gested it," he said. "But, think, Leanu. r Itwoul dbelikeagifttoaburglar.Money,food,water,a gun. . . . Most blaurrsg don't find what they want ablul ndel d upandwaitingforthem.Ithinkwe'dbetter makeitalittleharderforanyburglarwhocomeshere to get hldo of a gun."
"It will just be a rolled up blanket mixed in with some other rolldled oberdfoclothes in my ocsl et," I
said. "No one will even notice it." "No,"heshookhishead."No,thegunsstaywherethey are."
And that's that. I think mheo'sreworried about thbeoyssnoopingaroundthanaboutburglars.My brothers havebeentaughthowtobehavearoundguns all their lives, but Grego insly eight and Beisn nine. Dadusjt isn' t ready to put temptation in their paths yet. uMsaatrc11 is moreutsrtworthy than a lot of adults, but Keith at almost 13 is uaesqtion mark. He wounld't steal frmo Dad. Hewouldn't dare.Buthehasstolenfrom me--onlylittlethingssofar.
He wants aung, though, the way thirsty peleopwant water. He wants to be alolwgnr maybeDad'sright.Ihatehisdecision,butmaybe he'sright.
up--yesterday. So
"Wherewouldyougo?"Iaskedhim,changingthesubject. "If we were forced out of heree, wre hwouldyou takeus?"
Heblewoutabreath,puffinguphischeeksfora second."Totheneighborsortothecollege,"he said". Thecollegeha stemporaryemergency accommodationsforemployeeswhoareburnedordriven out of theiromh es."
"Andthen?''
"Rebuliding, fortifying, doing whateevrwecan do tloiveandbesafe."
"Would you eevrthinkabout leavinghere, headingnorthtowherewaterisn'tsuchaproblemandfood ischeape r?"
"No." He asrted inot space. "My job downerhe isassecureasajobcanbe.Therearenojobsupthere.Ne wcomers work for food if they work at all. Exnpeceriedoesn't matter. Education deosn't matter. There are just too many edsperate people.Theyworktheirlivesawayforasackofbeansandthey live on the streets."

"Ihearditwaseasierupthere,"Isaid."Oregon, Washington,Canada." "Closed," he sida. "You've got to sanke intoOregon
if you get in at.Eavllen harder to snaek into Washington. People gteshot every day trying stnoeakinto
Canada.NobodywantsCaliforniatrash."
"But people do leave. Peleopare
lawaysmoving north."
"They try. They'reesdperate and they have nothing to lose. But I do. This is my home. Beyond taxes, I
don't owe a pneny on it. You and your tbhreors haveneverknownahungrydayhere,andGodwilling,you never will."
In my Earthseendotebook, I've written, A tree
Cannot grow
In its parents' shadows.
Is it neecssary to write thginslike that? Everyone konws them. What do they amnenow, anyway?Whatdo esthisonemeanifyouliveinacul-de-sac withawallaroundin?Whatdoesitmeanifyou'redamned lucky to live in a cul-de-sa cwith a waallroundit?
SATURDAY, JULY 19, 2025
Tomorrow, I'll be sixteen. Only sixteen. I feel older. I want toerb. eI onldeed to be kid.Timedrags!
eorl.d I hate being a
TracyDunnhasdisappeared.She'sbeendepressedsin ce Amy was killed. Whneshe talked at all, it was aboutdyingandwantingtodieanddeservingtodie.
Everyonekepthopingshewouldgetoverhergrief-- orherguilt--andgetonwithherlife.Maybeshe couldn't.Dad
talkedwithherseveraltimes,andI knowhewasworriedabouther.Hercrazyfamilyhasn't been anhy treat her the way she treated Amy: They ignore her.
elp. They
Therumoristhatshewentoutsidesometimeyesterd ay. A group of Mossnda Payne kdissay theysawhergo outofthegatejustaftertheyleftschool. Noonehasseenhersince.
SUNDAY, JULY 20, 2025
Here'sthe birthday gift that came into my mindmthoirsningasIwokeup--justtwolines: The Destiny of Earthseed
Is to take root among the stars.
ThisiswhatIwasreachingforafewdaysagowhen thestoryofthenewplanetsbeingdiscoveredcaughtmy attention. It's true, of course. It's obuviso.

Right onw, it's also imopssible. The worlidsinhorribleshape.Evenrichcountriesaren'tdoingas welal shistory
saysrichcountriesusedtodo. PresidentDonnerisn'ttheonlyonebreakingupandselling off scine
ceand space
projects. Noone is expandnigthe kni dof exploratoi n that deosn't earn an immediapterofit, or at leapstromi se big future profits. Terhe's no mood now for dinog anything thactouldbeconsideredunnecessaryor wasteful.And
yet,
The Destiny of Earthseed
Isto take root among the stars.
Idon'tknowhowitwillhappenorwhenitwill happen.There'ssomuchtodobeforeitcanevenbegin. I guess th'ats to be exepcted. There's always a lot to do before you get to go to heaven.
8
To get along with God,
Considertheconsequencesofyourbehavior.EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING SATURDAY, JULY 26, 2025
TracyDunnhasnotcomehomeandhasnotbeenfound by the police. I don't think she will be's. oSnhleybeen goneforaweek,butaweekoutsidemust belikeaweekinhell.Peoplevanishoutside.They gothroughourgatelike
Mr.Yannisdid,and everyonewaitsforthem,buttheynevercomeback--or they cmo
Tracy Dunnisdead.
eback in aunrn. I think
BiancaMontoya ispregnant. It isn't just gossip, it's true, and it matters toommeeh,ows . Bianca is17,unm arried,andoutofhermindaboutJorgeIturbe wholivesattheIbarrahouseandisYolandaIbarra's brother.
Jorge damits to being the faetrh. I don't konwwhy
they didn't just get marrbieedfore everything got so puibcl. Jorge i2s3, and he, at least, gohut to have
somesense. Anyway, they'rgeoing to get
amrriednow.TheIbarraandIturbefamilieshavebeenfeuding with
theMontoyas for a week over tih s. So stupid. Yo'du think they handothing else to do. At least they're both Latino. Nionterracial feud thitsime.LastyearwhenCraigDunnwho'swhiteand oneofthesanermembersof theDunnfamilywas caughtmakinglovetoSitiMosswho'sblackandRichard Moss' soldest daughterto boot, I thoughtsomeonewasgoingtogetkilled.Crazy.
But my point isn't w'shosleepingwith whom
rowho'sfeuding.Mypointis--myquestionis--howinthe worldc
ananyonegetmarriedandmakebabieswiththings th eway they are now.
I mean, I knoweopplehave alwaysgotten marriedandhadkids,butnow....Nowthere'snowheretogo,
nothing to do. A ucople getsmarried, and if they'reuclky, they get a rooomra garage to live in-- with no hope of anything bettaenr d every raeson to expect thginsto get worse.
Bianca'schosenlifeisoneofmyoptions.It'snotonethat I intend to exercise, but it is pretty much what

theneighborhoodexpectsofme--ofanyonemy
age. Gorwup a little more, get mieadrr, have baibes. CurtisTalcott says the new Iturbe family will get half-a-garage to live in after they mJaorrryg.e's
siset rCeliaIturbeCruzandherhusbandandbabyhave the othehr
alf. Two cuoples, andnot onepayingjobam
ongthem.Thebesttheycouldhope forwouldbetomoveintosomerichpeople's compoundasdomesticservants andworkforroomand board. The re's noway to save any mneoy or ever do any better.
And what if they wanted tonogrtoh, try for a better life in Oonregor Washingtnoor Canada? It woulbde muchharder to travel withbaby or two, nad muchmoredangeroustotrytosneakpasthostileguards andover statelinesorinternationalboarderswith babei s.
I don't konwwhether Bai ncaisbrave or sutpid. Sheandhersisterarebusyalteringtheirmother'sold weddingdr
ess,andeveryone'scookingandgetting readyforapartyasthoughthesewerethegoodolddays
H. ow can they?
I klie CurtisTalcott a lot. Maybe I love him. SomestiImtehinkI do. He sasyhe lovesme. But if all I had to
look forward to
aws marriageto him anbdabiesandpovertythatjustkeepsgettingworse,Ithink I'd kill myself.
Back at ohme, my brotehr Keith sliped out of thneeighborhood--outthroughthefrontgatesand awayH. e
stoleCory'skeyandtookoffonhisown.Dadand I didn't nkowu ntil we got home. Keith was still gone, and by thenCory knewhe must be
outsdi e. She had cehcked with otehrs in thneeighborhoodandtwooftheDunnkids,twinsAllison and Marie, age six, said they saw him go tohuegt ate.ThatwaswhenCorywenthomeanddiscovered that herkey was g one.
Dadt,iredandangryandscared,wasgoingtogoright backo ut to look for him, but Keith got houmsteajs
Dad was leavnig. Cory, Marucs, and I hagdone
to the front porch with Dad, all thruesespoefculatingaboutwhereKeithhadgone,andMarcu sand I volunte ering to go out with Dad tolpsheearch. Itwasalmostdark.
"You get back in thatusheo and stay there," Dad said. "It's ebnaodugh to have one of you out theHre." checkedthesubmachinegun,madesureitwasfully loaded.
"Dad, lok," I said. I had spotted somnegthimovingthreehousesdown--quick,shadowymovement along
sidetheGarfieldporch.Ididn'tknowitwasKeith. I was attraecdt round,tryingtohide.
by its furtiveness. Somo enewassneakinga
Dadwasquickenoughtoseethemovementbeforeit was hdiden by the took the gun, nad went to cehck. Th erest ofuswatchedandwaited.
aGrfield house. He got up at once,
MomentslaterCorysaidsheheardanoddnoisein thehouse.IwastoofocusedonDadandwhatwas goingonoutsi detohearwhatsheheard,ortopay
any attention to her. Sheenwt in. Marcuasnd I were still on the phowrchen she screamed.
Marcusand I glnaced at each ohet r, then at the frodnotor.Marcuslungedforthedoor.IyelledforDad.Da dw as out of sight, but I heard ahnismwermy

call.
"Comequick," I shouted, then I ran intohothuese. Cory, Marcus, Bennett, and Gregory were inkittchhe en,clusteredaroundKeith.Keithwassprawled, pantingo, nthefloor,wearingonlyhisunderpants. Hewasscrape dandbruised,bleeding,andfilthy.Cory knelt beside him, examining him, qeustioning him, crying.
"Whaht appenedtoyou?Whodidthis?Whydidyou gooutside?Whereareyourclothes?What--?" "Where'sthe key you slteo?" Dad cut in. "Did they take it from you?"
Everyone jumped, looked up at Dad, theonwdn at
Keith.
"I couldn't help it," Keith said, still npga.nt"iI couldn't, Ddady. There were five guys." "So they got the key."
Keith nodedd, careful not to meet dD'sa eyes.
Dad turned nad strodeout of the house, almost arut na.ItwastoolatenowtogetGeorgeorBrianHsu tochan gethegatelock.Thatwouldhavetobedone tomorrowa, ndnewkeysmadeandpassedout.Ithought Dad musbt e goingout to warn peolep and
to put more wtcahers on duty. I wanted to offer to herpt pael ople, but I didn't.adD looked too
nagry
to accept help fromone of hsikidsright then. Anwd henhegotback,Keithwasinforit.Washeeverin forit.Apair ofpantsgone,andashirtanda pair of sheos. Cory had neevrbeen willing to let us run uanrdo barefoot the way a lot of kids did, except in the house. Her definitionsgocifviblieziend did not involve dirty, heavily
callused feet any more atnh they involved dirty, diseased skin.
eSshowere expnesive, and wewere
always growing out of ours, but Cornysisited. Each of uhsad at laest one piar ofwearableshoes,inspiteof whattheycost,andtheycost a lot. Now mnoey wouldhave to be found to agneetxtrapairforKeith.
Keithcurleduponthefloor,smudgingthetilewith bloodfromhisnoseandmouth,hugginghimselfandcryingn ow that Dad was gnoe. It took Cory two or threenumteis to get him aunpd half acrry him to the batohorm. I
tried to help her, but shearesdt
at me like Iaswthe one whoeabt him up, so I let them alone. Int 'twas
as though I wanetdto help. I just thought I slhdo. uKeith was in reaplain, and it aws hard ofr me to enudre sharing it.
Icleanedupthebloodsonoonewouldslipinitortrack it aruond. Then I fixed dienrn, ate, fed the threyeounger boys,andputtherestasideforDad,Cory,
andKeith.
SUNDAYA,
UGUST3,2025
Keithhadtoconfesswhathehaddonethismorningat church. He had toansdt
up in ofr nt of the whole ncgore
gationand tell them everything, inclundgi what the five thugsadh done to him.hTen hehad toapologize--to God,tohisparents,andtothe congregationthathehadendangeredand inconvenienced.Dadmadehimdothatove rCory's objections.

Dadnever hit him, thoughaslt night he
umst have been temepdt . "Why wolud you do such a thing!" he
keptdemanding."Howcouldanysonofminebesostupid! Wher eare yourbrains, boy? What did yotuhinkyou weredoing?I'mtalkingtoyou!Answerme!"
Keithansweredandansweredandanswered,but theanswersneverseemedtomakemuchsensetoDad. "I ain't no baby no more," heepwt. Or, "I waent dto showyou. Just wantedto show you! You alwysalet Lauren
dostuff!" Or, "I'm a man! Iouslhdn't be
ihding in the ohuse, hiding in the wall; I'm a man!"
ItwentonandonbecauseKeithrefusedtoadmithe haddoneanythingwrong.Hewantedtoshowhewas a man,
not a sac
red girl. It wasn't his fault that a gang of
ugmuypsedjhim, beat him, robebd him. He
didn't do anytnhgi . It wasn't his fault.
Dadstaredat him in utter disgust. "You disoebde,y"hesaid."Youstole.Youendangeredthelivesandthe prop
erty of everyonhe
ere, includingyour mother, your siesrt, and yuorlittle brothers. If yowuerethemanyouthin
kyouare,I'dbeatthehelloutof you!"
Keith staerdstraight ahead. "Bad guys come in even if they don't have a key," he muttered.om"Tehey c in and steal stuff. It's not my fault!"
It took Dad twhours to get Keith to admit thwatasithisfault,noexcuses.He'ddonewrong.He wouldn'tdo itagain.
My brotheirsn't very smart, but he makeuspfor it ipnurestubbornness.Myfatherissmartandstubborn. Keith didn'thaveachance,buthemadeDadwork forhisvictory.Thenextmorning,Dadhadhisrevenge. I don't believe he thought of Keith's forced coensfsion that way, but Keith's pexressiontold me that he did.
"How do I get out ofsfathmiily," Marcusmuttered to me as we waetcdh. I sympathiezd. He hadotshare a roomwith Keith, and the two of them, only a year apagret, ifnouaght all the time. Now gthsiwnouldbe worse.
KeithisCory'sfavorite.Ifyouaskedher,shewouldsay she didn't have a favorite, but sheesd. oShe babei s him and lets him gaewt ay with skipipng
chores, a little lying, a little stealing. . . . MaybewhthyKat'esiththinkswhenhescrewsup,it'sokay.
Thismorning'ssermonwasontheten commandmentswithextraemphasison"Honorthyfather and thy moeth r," and "Thou hsalt not setal." I think Dad got rid of a lot oefr angd furstration,preachingthatsermon.Keith, tall,stone-faced, lookingolderthanhisthirteenyears,kepthisanger.I could see him keienpg it inside, hldoing it down, chokingonit.
MONDAY, AUGUST 18, 2025

Dadwent out loking for Keith
dtoay. He even claeld in the police. Heyshae doesn't knowhow we'll
afford the fee, but 'hsescared. The lnoger Keithis gone, the more likely ishtoe
get hurt rokilled. Marcussa
yshe thinks Keith went loionkg for the guys who beat
uhpim. I don't believe it. Not eKveenithwouldgol
ookingforfiveguys--orevenoneguy- -with nothingbut a BB gun.
Cory'sevenmoreupsetthanDad.She'sscaredand jumpyandsicktoherstomach,andshekeepscrying. I talkehd er into giong back to bed, then taught rchleasses myself. I've done that four or tifmiveesbeforewhenshe wassick,soitwasn'ttoo weirdforthekids.IjustusedCory'slessonplans,and during the first part of the day, I partnere dthe
olderkidswith my kidnergartners and let everoynegetatasteofteachingorlearningfromsomeonedifferent. Some of my studenats re my agaendolder,andacoupleofthese--AuraMossandMi chael Tacl ott--got up and left. Thekynew I unedrstood the work. I got the last of my higoholwscohrkandtestsoutoftheway
almosttwoyearsago.Since then I've dnoe uncredited (free )college work with ow all that, but they're much gtrooown up to alern anythni g from the likes
aDd. Michael and Aura nk
of me. The hell with them. It's a pity, though, tChuatrtimshyastohaveabrotherlikeMichael--notthatany of us gets to choose our brothersT. UESDAY, AUGUST 19, 2025
NosignofKeith.IthinkCoryhasgoneintomourning forhim.Ihandledclassesagaintoday,andDad
went out searcinhg again. He came ohme lookingexhaustedtonight,andCoryweptandshoutedathim.
"You didn't try!" sheidswa ith me nad all three of my breortsh looking on. We'd all come to seheetwher
DadhadbroughtKeithback."Youcouldhavefoundhim if you'd tried!"
Dadtriedtogotoher,butshebackedaway,stillsho uting: "If it were yourecpirousLauren out theraelone,youw ouldhavefoundherbynow!Youdon'tcare about Keith."
She'snever said anything like that before.
Imean,wewerealwaysCoryandLauren.Shenevera sked me to cahlel r "mother," and I never thought to do
it. I always kenwshe was my stepmother. But still. . . I always loved her. It mystified me that hKeeith was r favorite, but it didn't
makemelove herany less. I waserh kid, but noterh kid. Not quite. Not really. But I always thought she loved me.
Dadshooedusall off to bed. He quietedoryC andtookherbacktotheirroom.Afewminutesago,he came to see me.
"She didn't mean it," he said. "Shesloyvou atshoughyouwereherdaughter,Lauren." I just looekdat him.
"Shewantsyoutoknowshe'ssorry." Inodded,andafterafewmoreassurances,hewent. Isshesorry?Idon'tthinkso. Did she mean it. She did. Oh, yhe ,mseant it.

THURSDAYA, UGUST30,2025
Keith came abck last ngiht.
Hejustwalkedintothehouseduringdinner,as thoughhe'dbeenoutsideplayingfootballinsteadofgon esince Saturday. And this time he looked fNinoet.amarkonhim.Hewaswearingacleannewsetof clothing-- evenn ewshoes. All of it was of much better quality than he had when he left, and much
moreexpensivethanwecouldhaveafforded.
He still had the BB ugnutnil Dad tokit away from him and smashed it.
Keithwouldn'tsaywherehe'dbeenorhowhe'dgotten the new tnhgi s, so Dad beat him seen Dad like that once fobree-- whe nIwas12.Corytriedtostophim,triedtopullhimoff
Keith, screamedat him in English, then inanSipsh, then without words.
obol dy. I've only
Gregory threw uopnthe floor, and Bnenett started to cry. Marcubsackedaway from the whleo scene,and slippedoutofthehouse.
Thenitwasover.
Keithwascryinglikeatwo-year-oldandCorywas holdinghim.Dadstoodoverbothofthem,looking dazed. IfollowedMarcusoutthebackdoorandstumbledand almost fell down the backe spts. I didn't knowhatIw
asdoing.Marcuswasn'taround.Isatonthe stepsinthewarmdarknessandletmybodyshakeand hurt and vomit in helples sempathy with KeithT.henIguessIpassedout.
Icame tosometime later with Mcaur sshaking me and whpiseringmy name.
I got up with Muasrhcanging on to my arm, trying to steady me, and I got to omoym.bedr
"Let me sleep hienre," he wihsperedonce I was sitting on my beadz,edand still in pain. "I'll esple
on the floor, I dona'trec."
"All right," I said, not caringerwe hheslept. I ladyownonthebedwithouttakingoffevenmyshoes,and drew my body into a fetal ball on top of tdhcelobthees. I either fell aselepthat way or Iaspsed out again.
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 2025
Keith came ohme tonightwhile Dad was visiting eorv at the Talcott
uhsoe. I susepct that Keith hunagrou
ndandwatchedthehouseandwaiteduntilDadleft. He had cmo doneupin a fat roll.
eto seeCory. He brought her a lot of money
She stared at it, then took it, dazed. "So much, Keith," isspheerewd.h "Where did you get it?" "It's for you," he said. "All for you, not him."
Hetookherhandandcloseditaroundthemoney-- andshelethimdoit,thoughshehadtoknowitmust bestolen moneyordrugmoneyorworse.

Keith gave Bennett aGndregory big, expnesive barsofmilkchocolatewithpeanuts.HejustsmiledatMarcu s and me--anobvious "fuck you" smile. Tehn,beforeDadcouldcomehomeandfindhimhere,heleft again. Cory hadn't realize dthat he was leavinaggain,andsheallbutscreamedandclungtohim.
"No! You'll be
lkeidl
out ther!eWhat'sthe matter with you? Stay home!"
"Mama, I won't let him beat mein,a"gahe said. "I
don't ned him hitting me and tneglli me what to do. Pretty soon, I'll be able to make more money in a daythanhecaninaweek--maybeinamonth.
"You'll be killed!"
"No I won't. I okwnwhat I'm doing." He kisseder,hthen,withsurprisingease,tookherarmsfrom around him."I'llcomebackandseeyou,"hesaid.
"I'lbl ringyoupresents. Andhevanishedoutthebackdoor,andwasgone.
2026
Civilization is to groups what intelligence is to individuals. It is a means of combining the intelligence of manyto achieve ongoing group adaptation. Civilization, like intelligence may serve well, serve adye, quatel
or
fail to serve its adaptive function. When civilization fails to serve, it must disintegrate unless it is acted uponbyunifyinginternalor external forces.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
by LauernOya Olamni a
10
Whenapparentstabilitydisintegrates,A sit mustÑ GodisChangeÑPeople tend to give in Tofearanddepression, Toneedandgreed. Whennoinfluenceisstrongenough
To unify people They diviTdhee. ystruggle, Oneagainstone, Groupagainstgroup,

For survival, posoitni , power.
Theyrememberoldhatesandgeneratenewones, Theycreatechaosandnurtureit. They kill and killdaknill,
Untitlheyareexhaustedanddestroyed, Untitlheyareconqueredbyoutsideforces,Or until one of themecbom es
A leader
Mostwillfollow, Oratyrant
Most fear.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING THURSDAY, JUNE 25, 2026
Keith came ohme yeset rday, bigger than eevr, as tall and leaasnDad is tall nad broad. He'snot quite14, buthealreadylookslikethemanhewantssomuchto be. We're like that, weamOilna s--tall, sturdy, fast gorw ingpeople. Except for Gergory who iosnly nine, we all tower orCveory. I'm still the tallest, but my height seems to annoy ehr these days. She leosvKeith'ssize,though--herbigson.Shejusthatesthefact that he deo
sn't live with uas nymore.
"I got a room," he said to meerydeasyt. We tlaked,heandI.CorywaswithDoroteaCruzwhoisoneof herbe stfriendsandwhohasjusthadanotherbaby. Theotherboyswereplayinginthestreetandonthe island.Dadhadgon etothecollege,andwouldbegone ove rnight. Now, more than eerv, it's saefst to go out just aatwdn, and not to try comngi homeuntil just at dawn the next mnogrn. i That's if you havegotooutsideatall,whichDaddo esaboutonceaweek. The worst parasites still prowl at night anedp sllaete into the moinrng. Yet Keith lives outside.
"I got a room in a building woimthe sotherpeople,"hesaid.Translation:Heandhisfriendswere squattinginan abandonedbuilding.Whowerehisfriends? A gagn? A flock of prostietust? A bnuch of astronauts, flying
high ondrugs? A
edn of thieves?
All of the above? Wenheverhecameto seeushe
brought money to oCry and little gifts to Bennett and
Gregory. Howcouldhegetmoney?There'snohonestway.
"Doyourfriendsknowhowoldyouare?"Iasked.He grinned. "Hell, no. Whyhosuld I tell them that?I" nodded."Itdoeshelptolookoldersometimes.
"You want sometnhgi
to eat?"
"Yougoingtocookforme?"

"I'vecookedforyouhundredsoftimes.Thousands."
"I know. But you alwhayads
to beofre."
"Don't
ebstupid. You thnik I coulnd't act the way you did: Skip out on my responsibilities if I felt like it? I
don't feel like it. You want to enaot t?o"r
"Sure."
Imaderabbitstewandacornbread--enoughfor Coryandalltheboyswhentheycamein.Hehung aroundandwat
chedmeworkforawhile,thenbegan to talk to me. He'svenredone that beof ch other, he nad I. But
re. We've neevr, never ikl ed ea
hehadinformationIwanted,andheseemedtowantto talk. I must have been the saferstopn h ecould talk to. He wans't afraid of sohcking me. He dnid'tmuchcarewhatIthought.Andhewasn'tafraidI'dtell Dad or Cory anythni g he said. Of ucrose, I woludn't. Why acuse them pani?I've never ben much ofr tattling on people, anyway.
"It'sjustanastyoldbuildingontheoutside,"hewas sayingofhisnewhome."Youwouldn'tbelievehow great it looksncoe yougoin, though."
"Whorehouseorspaceship?"Iasked.
"It's got stuff like you never saw," heedev. a"dTVwindowsyougothroughinsteadofjustsittingandlooking
at. Headset s, belts, and
utochrings. . .you seaend feel everything, daonything. Anything! There's lapcesa
nd thingsyou can get into with that eqmuiepnt that aren-isane! You dno't ever have to go into theesttr except to get food."
"And whoeveorwnsthis stuff took you in?" I eads.k
"Yeah."
"Why?"
He loked at me for oangl
time, then asrtted to laugh. "Becuase I can readnda write," he said at last.
"And none of them can. They're alleroltdhan me, but not one of themnrecaador write anything. They
stole all thigsreat stuff and they codunl't even use it. Before I got there they even bormokee osf theycouldn'treadtheinstructions."
bitecause
CoryandIhadhadahellofastruggle,teachinghim toreadandwrite.Hehadbeenbored,impatient, anythingbuteag er.
"Soyoureadforaliving--helpyournewfriends learntousetheirstolenequipment,"Isaid. "Yeah."
"Andwhatelse?"
"Nothine' lse."

Whatapiss-poorliarheis.Alwayswas.He'sgotno
conscience. He ujst isn't smart enough to tell connvciing lies. "Drgus, Keith?" I asekd. "Prostitution?Robbery?"
"Isaidnothingelse!Youalwaysthinkyouknoweverything." Isighed."You'renotdonecausingDadandCorypain, are you?Not by a long shot."
Helookedasthoughhewantedtoshoutbackatmeor hit me. He might hadvoene one or the oht er if hIadn'tm entionedCory.
"I don't give a shit about him," ihde, hsais voice loawndugly.Hehadaman'svoicealready.Hehadeverything but a mna s' brain. "I do moreorf her tahn he deos. I bring ehr money and nice things. And my fdrise.n . .
myfriends knowshe lives
ehre, and they let this placleonae. He'snothing!"
Iturnedandlookedathimandsawmyfather'sface,lighter-skinned, younger, thinner, but my father's face, unm
i stakable. "He's you," I whispedr . "Every time I look at you, I see him. Every time you look at him, you see yourself.
"Dogshit!" Ishrugged.
It was a long time obre hespokeagain. At last he said, "Dheidever hit you?" "Not for aobut five years."
"Why'dhehityou--backthen?"
I thought about that, and deditdo tell him. He aws oldenough."HecaughtmeandRubinQuintanillain thebushestogether." Keithshoutedwithabruptlaughter."YouandRubin?Really? You were dnoi git with him? Youe'kr idding." "We were twelve. What the hell."
"You're ulcky you didn't get epgrnant." "I know. Twelve cbaena dumb age."
He lokedaway. "Bet he didn't beat yaosubadas he beat me!"
"He esnt you boys over to play with thlecoTttas." Igavehimaglassofcoldorangejuiceandpouredone for myself.
"I don't remember," he said.

"You were nine," I said. "bNodoy was goni gto tell you what aws going on. As I mreember, I told you I
felldownthebacksteps."
He forwned, perhapsremembering. My facheadbeenmemorable.Dadhadn'tbeatenmeasbadlyashe beat
Keith, but I looked worse. Hheousld remem berthat. "HeeverbeatupMama?"
I shok my head. "No. I've never saeneyn sign of Iitd.on'tthinkhewould.Helovesher,youknow.He really does."
"Bastard!" "He'sourfather,andhe'sthebestmanIknow." "Did you think that whenbehaet you?"
"No. But later wenhI figured out ohw stupid I'd ben,
Iwasjustgladhewassostrict. Andbackwhenithappened, I was just gal gain--twiceinjustafewminutes,and
dhe didn't quite kill meH."elaugheda
both times at thgisnI'd said. Mabye he was ready topenupalittlenow. "Tell me about the tsoiude," I said. "oHwdo you live out there?
He draiend the last of shsei cond glass of juice. "I
told you. I live real good out there."
"But how did you live ewnyhou first went out-- when you went to stay." Helookedatmeandsmiled.Hesmiledlikethat yearsagowhenheusedredinktotrickmeintobleedin gin empathy
with a wuond he dind't have. I remmeberthat particularnasty smile. "You want to go out yourself, don't youd?e"mhaended. "Someday."
"Whati,nsteadofmarryingCurtisandhavinga bunchofbabies?" "Yeah. Instead of that."
"I wonedred why you were bnegiso nice to me." The food smelleudst jabout ready, so I got unpdtaook thebreadfromtheovenandbowlsfromthe cupboard. I wsatempted to tell him toshduip hisownstew,butIkne whewouldspoonallthemeatout of the stewnda leave nothni gbut potatoes and vegetabelsfor the erst of us.
So I served imh
and
myself, coveerd the pot, left it on the lowoessibple fire, and put a towelerothve bread.
I let him eat in peace for a whileg,hthIouthought the boys wouledcobmingin any time now,asrvt ing.

ThenIwasafraidtowaitanylonger."Talktome,Keith," I said. "I really want to knowow. Hdid you survive when you first went out there."
Hsi smile this time wasesls evil. Maybe the food had mellowed him. "Slept in aoacradrbdobx for three daysandstolefood,"hesaid"Idon'tknowwhyI
kept giong back to that box. Cdohual ve sel pt in any oldorcner. Some kdiscarry a piece of carodabrd to sleepon--sotheywon'tberightdownonthe ground,youknow.
"Then I got a spleseack from an ldo man. It was new, like he enruesved it. Then I-- " "You stole it?"
He gave me oaokl gun-- Mama's38."
of socrn. "What you think I was going to do? nI't dhidave no mnoey. Just
ahd that
Yes. He ahd brought it back toerh three vistsi ago, along with towboxesof ammunition. Of ocursehe neversaidhowhegottheammunition--orhowhe gothisreplacementgun--aHeckler&Kochninemillimeter just like Dad's. He just showed up with thaindgs claimed that if you had the money, youldcobuy anything outside. He had neev radmitted howhegot the money.
"Okay," I said. "So you stole
eapsaleck. And yokueptstealingfood?It'sawonderyoudidn'tget caught."
"The old guy dhsaomemoney. I used it to buy food. Then I dswtaartlkeing
ot ward L.A."
That old dream of hiso.r Freasons that make sense to him alone, 'hsealways wanted to go to L.A. Any sanepersonwouldbethankfulforthetwentymilesthat separateu sfrom that ozingsore.
"He takled to you. He wsfariendly to you. And you shot him."
"Whawt
asIsupposedtodo?WaitforGodtocomeand give me some omney? What was I suposed to do?"
"Comehome." "Shit."
"Doesn'titevenbotheryouthatyoutooksomeone's life--youkilledaman?"
He seemed to thkianbout that for a while. Then hoeoskh his head. "It don't bother me," heid.sa"I was scaredat first, but then. . .after I did it, I didn't feel notohbinogd.y Nsaw me do it. I just toiosksthuff and left him there. Beidses, maybe he wasn't deaPde.opledon'talwaysdiejustbecauseyoushootthem."
"Youdidn'tcheck?"
"I jsut wanted hsistuff. He wsacrazy anyway. Alsaka!"
I didn't say any more to himn, 'tdiadsk any more
eqsutions. He talekda little about meetginsomeguysand
joiningupwiththem,thendiscoveringthateven though they were all oldear tnhe was,
onne of them codul
readorwrite. He was haelp to themH. emadetheirlivespleasanter.Maybethat'swhythey didn't just wait until he wasa sleep and kill himandtakehislootforthemselves.

After a while, he noticed that I wasn't saying anything, aanudghheed. l "You better marry uCrtis and ma ke babies," he said. "Out there, oudtes,i you woludn't last a day. That heyrepmpathy shit of youwrsould bringyoudownevenifnobodytouchedyou."
"You thiknthat," Isaid.
"Hey, I saw a guy get both of
ehsisgoeuygedout. After that, they set him on fire and watchmerdunhairo
undandscreamandburn.Youthinkyoucouldstand to see that?" "Yournewfriendsdidthat?"Iasked.
MONDAY, JULY 20, 2026
Keith came to see me toduasyt jbefore
adrk. HefoundmewalkinghomefromtheTalcotthouse whereCurtis
hadbeenwishingmeaveryhappybirthday. We've been
evry careful, Curit sand I, buftromsomewhereoroth
er,he'sgottenasupplyofcondoms. They're
lod fashoi ned, but they work. And
there'sanunuseddarkroominacornerofthe
Talcottgarage.
Keithscaredmeoutofaverysweetmood.Hecame frombehindtwohouseswithoutmakingasound.He hadalmo streachedmebeforeIrealizedsomeone wasthereandturnedtofacehim.
Heraisedhishands,smiling."Broughtyoua
birthdaypresent," he said. He puot msething into my left hand. Money.
"Keith, no, givettoi
Cory."
"You give it to her. You want her to have it, you give it to htetro.
yI ogua."ve i
I walekdhim to the gate, nccoerned that one of the watchers might spot hidmshoanot him. He aws that muchtallerthanhehadbeenwhenhestopped
livingwithus.Dadwashomesohewouldn'tcomein. I thanked him for the nmeoy and told him Iouwld give it
to Cory. I wanted him toowknthat because I didn't
awnt him to bring maneything else, ever.
He seemednot to mind. Heisksed the sdieof my face said, "Hppay birthday," and went out. He hsatidll
Cory'skey,andalthoughDadknewhehadit, hehadn'thadthelockchangedagain.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 26, 2026
Today, my paretsn had to gdoowntown to iedntify the body of my brother Keith.
SATURDAYA, UGUST29,2026
Ihaven'tbeenabletowriteawordsinceWed nesday. I don't konwwhat to write. Theodby was Keith's. I
never saw it, of course. Dad said he trikeedeptoCory fromseeing it. The things soemonehad done to
Keith beforehedied. . . .I don'tanwt to write aobut this, but I need Stom. iteasierto stand.
etimeswritingaboutathingmakes
Someonehad cut and ubrnedaway most of mbyrother'sskin.Everywhereexcepthisface.They burnedouthis
eyes,butlefttherestofhisfaceintact-- like they
awnted him to be recoigzned. They cut and they cauitezred
and they cut nad they cauetrized. . .S. ome of the woudns weredays oldS. omeonehadanendlesshatredof mybrother.
Dadgotusalltogetheranddescribedtouswhathad been done H.
e told it in a flat, dead moneo.toHe
wanted to csare us, toscare Marcus, Bennett, and Greogry in parictular. He wanteudstounderstandjusth owdangeroustheoutsideis.
The poicl e said drug edalers torture people the waKy eithwastortured.Theytorturepeoplewhostealfrom them andpeople who cmo pete with them. Wedon'tknowwhetherKeithwasdoingeitherofthesethings. We
just knowh e'sdead. His
obdy was
dumped across otwn fromhere in front of a bneudr outoldbuildingthatwasonceanursinghome.It wasdump edonthebrokenconcreteand abandonedseveralhoursafterKeithdied.Itcould havebeendumpedinoneofthe canyonsandonly thedogswouldhavefoundit.Butsomeonewanted itobefound,wantedittoberecognized.Had one ofhisvictims'relativesorfriendsmanagedtogeteven at last?
Thepoliceseemedtothinkweshouldknowwhokilled him. I got the feeling fromir thqeuestions that they would havebeenhappy to arrest Daod rCory or both of them. But they both lead very pubelsi,canldiv neitherhadanyunexplainedabsencesorother breaksinroutine.Dozensofpeoplecouldgivethem
alibis. Of ocurse, I said noitnhg about what Keith hatodldmehehadbeendoing.Whatgoodwouldthat do? Hewasdead,andinahorribleway.Byaccident orbyintent,allhisvictImswereavenged.
Wardell Parrish felt calledpoun to tell the poliacbeoutthebigfightDadandKeithhadhadlastyear.He'dheard
it, of course. Half the gnhebi orhood had heardit.Familyfightsareneighborhoodtheater--and Dad, the minist e r, after all!

IknowWardellParrishwastheonewhotoldthe cops.HisyoungestnieceTanyaletthatmuchslip.
"UncleWard said hheated to mention it but. . . ." Oh, I'll bet he hated to mentionedit. baDsatamrd! But nobody abcked him up. Tehcopswent nosingaroundtheneighborhood,butnooneelseadmittedkno w
inganything about a fight. After all, they knew Dad didn't kill Keith. And they knew tikhedcotops l
solve cases by "discoevring" evidence against whomever they
edcided must bgeuilty. Best to give them
nothing. They neevrhelped when adsituationworse.
epople calel d for help. They came elra,t and more oftenthannot,madeab
Wehadtheservicetoday.DadaskedhisfriendReveren dRobinsonto take care of it. Dad justwistahtCory andtherestofusandlookedbentandold. So old.
Cory creid all day, most of the time without inmgakasound.She'sbeencryingoffandonsinceWed nesday. MarcusandDad tried to comofrt her. Even I tried, though the whaey losoked at me. . .tahsoughIhadhads
omethingtodowithKeith'sdeath, asthoughshealmosthatedme.Ikeepreachingoutto her. I don't
oknwwhat
else to do. Maybe in time, shbeallble to forgive meorf not beinhgerdaughter,forbeingalivewhenhersonis dead,forbeing Dad's daughte rby someone else. . . ? I doknn'ot w.
Dadnever shed a ater. I've never esen him cry in my life. Today, I wishohueld.wI wish ehcould. CurtisTalcott sort of hnug aroundwith me today, and we talkaendd talked. I guess I n edd to talk, andCurtiswaswillingtoputupwithme.
11
AnyChangemaybearseedsofbenefit.Seek them out. AnyChangemaybearseedsofharm.Beware.
God is infinitely malleabGleo. disChange.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
SATURDAYO,
CTOBER17,2026
Wearecomingapart.
The community, the families, individual family meerms.b . . .We're a rope, abkrieng, a snigle strand at a time.

Therewasanotherrobberylastnight--oranattempted rob bery. I wish that aws all. No agrden theft this time. Three gusycame overthe wall ancdrowbarredtheirwayintotheCruzhouse.TheCruz familyo, fcourse, hasloudburglaralarms,barredwindows, and security gates at all theords ojust like the rest of us, but that doesn't seem to matter. When peoepwl ant to ocme in, they come in. The theiseuvsedsimplehandtools--
crowbars,hydraulicjacks, thingsanyonecanget.Idon'tknowhowtheydisabled the cut the
ubrglar aal
rm. I konwthey
electricalandphonelinestothehouse.That shouldn'thavematteredsincethealarmhadback-up batteries. Whateve relse they dido,r
whatever wetnwrong, the alarm didn't go off. Aafntedrthethievesusedthecrowbaronthedoor,they walked intothekitchenanduseditonDorotea Cruz'sseventy-five-year-oldgrandmother.Theold
ladywasalightsleeperandhadgottenintothehabit ofgettingupatnightandbrewingherselfacupof lemongrasstea. Herfamilysaysthat'swhatshe
wascomingintothekitchentodowhenthethieves brokein.
ThenDorotea'sbrothersHectorandRubinQuintanilla, came running, guns in hnad. They had the bedroom n earest to the kitchennda they heardaltlhenoise--thebreak-initselfandMrs.Quintanilla beingknockedagain stthekitchentableandchairs.They killed twoof the thieves. The third agwotay,perhapswounded.Therewas
alotofblood.Butold MrsQ.
uintanillawasdead.
ThisistheseventhincidentsinceKeithwaskilled. Moreandmorepeoplearecomingoverourwalltotake what we have,o rwhat they think we have. Seven intorunsinto houseorgarden in elss than two mohnst-- in an 11
-householdcommunity. If this is hwat's happening to us, what umst it be like fpoeroplewhoarereallyrich--a lthoughperhapswith theirbigguns,privatearmiesofsecurityguards,and
up to date suercity equipment, they're better laeb to fight back. Maybe that's why'rewegettingso much attention. We have a few staeballes and we're not that well pecrotetd. Of the seevn intrusions, three were successful. Thieves got in nad out witshomething--acoupleofradios,asackofwalnuts,whe at flour, ocrn
meal, pei cesof jewelry, an anicent TV, caomputer. ..If theycouldcarry it, they made off wit.hIf itwhat Keith told mestirue, we're getting the poorrcelass of thievehsere. No doubt thetougher,smarter,moreco urageousthieveshit storesandbusinesses.Butourlower-classthugsare kililng us slowly.
Nextyear,I'llbe18--oldenough,accordingtoDad,to stand aergula rnight watch. I wish I coduoldit now. As soonasI candoit, I wi.lBl ut it won't beenough.
It'sfunny.CoryandDadhavebeenusingsomeofthe money Keith borughtu sto help the poeple who'vebeen robbed. Stolen money to help vmicsti of theft. Half the money is hidden in our back cyaasredofidnisaste r.Therehasalwaysbeensome moneyhiddenoutthere.Nowthere'senoughto makeadifference.Theotherhalfhas goneintothechu rch fund to heolpur negi hbors in emergnecies. Itwon'tbeenough.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 20, 2026
Somethingnewisbeginning--orperhapssomethingold and
ansty is reviving. A copmany calel d Kagimoto,
Stamm, Frampton, nad Company-- KSF-- hastakenovertherunningofasmallcoastalcitycalled Olivar. Olivar, incorporated in the 1890s, is justonemorebeach/bedroomsuburbofLosAngele s, small nad wel
-to-do. It has little industmryu, chhilly,vacantlandandashort,crumblingcoa stline. Its peolpe, like some ehre
in our Rboledoneighborhood,earnsalariesthatwouldoncehavemade them por
sperousand comfortable. In
fact,Olivarisalotricherthanweare,butsinceit'sa coastalcity,itstaxesarehigher,andsincesomeofits land is nu

stable, it has extra probmles. Parts of istometmi
escrumbleintotheocean,undercutordeeply saturated by
salt water. Sea level kee psrisingwiththewarmingclimateandthereistheoccasionale arthquake. Olivar'sflat,
sandy beach is alraedy just a meomry. So are the
uhsoes andbusinessesthatusedtositonthatbeach.Like co
astalcitiesallovertheworld,Olivarneedsspecialhelp. It's an upper mdi
dle cal ss, white, literate
community of people whoncoehad a lot of weight to tharorowund. Now, not even the poicliitansit's helped to elect willasntd by it. The wheosltate, thecountry,theworldneedshelp,it'sbeentold.What
the hell is tiny Olivar winhginabout?Somewhatricherandlessgeologicallyactive
communitiesaregettinghelp--dikes,seawalls, evacuationassistance,whatever'sappropriate. Olivarl,ocated betweentheseaandLosAngeles,is gettinganinfluxofsaltwaterfromonedirectionand desperatepoorpeople fromtheother.Ithasasolar powereddesalinationplantonsomeofitsflatter, morestableland,andthatprovidesitsp eoplewitha dependablesupplyofwater.
But it can't protect itself fromenthcreoaching sea, the
ucrmblingearth, the crumbinl geconomy, or the
desperate refugees. Even getting backnda forth to work, forosthe fewwho can't work at home,asw becomingasdangerousfor themasit is for oupreople--akindofterriblegauntletthathastoberun overandover again.
Then the epople of KSF sohwedup. After many proimses, much hgagling, suspicion, fear, hope, nad legal wrangling, the voters and the officials of Olivar permitted othwenir tto beakt en over, bought out, privatized. KSF will expand theesdalination pal nt to vast size. That plant will be the first of many. The company intends to dominate farming and the seollfiwngaterandsolarandwindenergyovermuchofthe south
west--whereforpenniesit'salreadyboughtvast tract sof fertile, waterleslsand. So far, Olivar is one of its smaller coastal holdings, but with Olivar, it
getsaneager,educatedworkforce,peopleafewyears older tha nI am wohse optionsare very limited. Not as limitedasours, of ocurse, but limited. And the'sreall that foremrly public alnd that they now control. They mean toown great waetr, power, and agicrultural industriesin anarea that most people have given up on. They have logn-term plans, andthepeopleofOlivarhavedecidedtobecomepartof them--toacceptsmallersala riesthantheir
socio-economicgroupisusedtoinexchangefor security,aguaranteedfoodsupply,jobs,andhelpin theirbattle withthePacific.
TherearestillpeopleinOlivarwhoareuncomfortabl ewith the chnage. They pany towns in which thceompaniescheatedandabusedpeople.
nkowabout early Ameicr an com
But this is to be different. Tehoeplpe of Olivar anre't frightened, impoverished victims. The'yre able to lookafterthemselves,theirrightsandtheirproperty. They'reeducatedpeoplewhodon'twanttolivein thespreadi ngchaosoftherestofLosAngelesCounty. Some of themsaidsoon the radio documeanrty we all liesnt ed to l ast night-- as themyadeapublicspectacleofsellingthemselvestoKSF.
"Good ulck to them,"
aDd said. "Not that they'll have mucuhckl in the long run."
"What do you mane?" Cory demanded. "I think the
wholeideaiswonderful.It'swhatweneed.Nowifonly some bigcompany would want to do thaemsething withRobledo.

"No," Ddasaid. "Thank Godn, o."
"You don't know! Whyosuhldn't they?"
"Robel do'stoobig,toopoor,tooblack,andtoo Hispanictobeofinteresttoanyone--andithasnocoa stline. What it does haviesstreet poorb, odydumps,andamemoryofoncebeingwell-off--ofshade trees, big houses, hills, and canyons. Most of those things are still here, but no company will want us."
Atheendoftheprogramitwasannouncedthat KSFwaslookingforregisterednurses,credentialed teachers,and afewotherskilledprofessionalswhowould be wilnlig to move to Olivar and work for room aanrdd.bTohe
offer wasn't put that way, of ucorse, but that's
hwat it meant. Yet Cory redcoedr
thephonenumberandcal
leditatonce.SheandDad arebothteachers,bothPh.D's.Shewasdesperate togetinaheadofthecrowd.Dadjusts hruggedandlet her call.
Shemadeasharp,wordlesssoundofdisgust."You knownothingabouttheworld.Youthinkyouhaveallthe answ ersb ut you konwnothing!"
I didn't aruge. Therewasn't much point in my arguingwithher.
"I doubt that Olivar is lionogkfor famielis of balcks and Hispanics, anyway," Dad sida. "The Balters or theGarfieldsorevensomeoftheDunnsmightgetin, but I don't think we would. Even if I wu esrtiengtr enough to put my family into KSF's hands, they ldwno'tuhaveus."
"We oculd try it," Cory inseisdt. "We shoul!dWe wouldn't be any worse off than awree now if they turn usdown. And if we got in and we didn't lwikeecoiut,ldcomebackhere.Wecouldrentthehouse tooneofthe bigfamilieshere--chargethemjustalittle, then-- "
"Thencomebackherejoblessandpenniless,"Dadsaid. "No. I mean it. This bnuessi
sounds half antebeulml
revival andh alf scei nce fiction. I don't trust it. Froemed is
adngerous, Cory, but it's pecr ious, too. You ca
n't just thorw it away or let it aswlipay. You can't sell it for abdreand pottgae." Cory satredat him-- ujst stared. Herefused to lok away. Cory got up adnwent to their ebdroom. I sawherthereafewminuteslater, sittingonthebed,cra dling the urn of Keith's ashens,d acryni g.
SATURDAYO,
CTOBER24,2026

Marcustellsme the Garfielsdare trying to get into
OlivarH.
e'sbeenspendingalotoftimewithRobin
Balter adnshe told him. She heastthe ideabecauseshelikeshercousinJoannealotbetterthanshe doeshertwos isters.She'safraidthatifJoanne
goesawaytoOlivar,she'llneverseeheragain.I
suspectshe'sright.
I can't imagine isthplace wiht out the Garfileds. Joanne, Jay, Phillida. . . . We've lost indivlsibdeufaore,ofc
ourse,butwe'veneverlostawholefamily. I mean.
t.hey'll be alive, but. . .they'llgobnee.
I hope they're refused. Iowknit's selfish, but I don't care. Not that it ems aakny differnecewhat I hope. Oh hell. I hope they get whaetrewvill bebest for theirusrvival. I hope they'll be all right.
At 13, my brother Muasrhcas becomethe only person in the familyhowm I woudlcall beautiful.Girlshisag estareathimwhentheythinkhe'snot looking.Theygigglealotaroundhimandchasehimlike cra zy, but he sticks
to Robin. Sh'es not pretty altl--allskinandbonesandbrains--butshe'sfunnyand sen sible. In a year or two,
she'llstart to fill out and my berorthwilgl et beauty alognwith all those brnasi. Then, if the two of theme ar still together, their lives will get a lot more interesting.
I've chagned my mind. I used to wait foerxtphloesion,thebigcrash,thesuddenchaosthat woulddestroythe
neighborhood.Instead,thingsareunraveling, disinet
grating bit by bit. Susan Talcott
BruceandherhusbandhaveappliedtoOlivar. Otherpeoplearetalkingaboutapplying,thinkingabout it. Ther'es
a small colelge in Oliav
r. There arleethalsecuritydevicestokeepthugsandthestreetpooro ut. Thereare more
jobsopening up. . . . Maybe Olivsathrei future-- one
cfaeof it. Cities controlled bygcboimpanies are old
hat in scinece fiction. My granmdother left a hwole bookcase of olsdciencefictionnovels.Thecompany-city subgenre alwaysseemedtostaraherowhooutsmarted,overthrew, orescaped "the cmo pany." I've never
seenonewheretheherofoughtlikehelltogettakenin and udnerpaid by the cmopany. In real life, that's the way it will be. That's the way it is.
And what sholdu I be doin?gWhat can I do? In ltehsasnayear,I'llbe18,anadult--anadultwithno prospects exceptlifeinourdisintegratingneighborhood.O rEarthseed.
To begin aErthseed, I'll have to go oiudtes. I've konwn that for a nlgotime, but the idea scarmese just as muchasit alwayshas.
Next year wehnI'm 18, I'll go. That mesannow IhavetobegintoplanhowI'llhandleit.SATURDAY, OCTOBER31,2026
I'm going to goornth. My gradnparents once traveled a lot by carh.eyT left us old ardomapsof just aob ut every cuonty in the state plusveseral of
other
aprts of the country. The neeswt of them is 40 yearlsd, obut that doesn't matter. Theadrsowill still
be there. They'll just be in worse sphea than thewy erebackwhenmygrandparentsdrovea
gas-fueel dcarover them. I've put mpsaof theCaliforniacountiesnorthofusandthefewIcould findof

WashingtonandOregoncountiesintomy pack.
Iwonderiftherearepeopleoutsidewhowillpayme toteachthemreadingandwriting--basicstuff--or peoplewho willpaymetoreadorwriteforthem.Keith started me tnhki in gabout that. I might even be able to teamche so Earthseed verses along with the reaindg and writni g. Given any cahnce at all, teacinhg is what I woudlcho ose to do. Even if I have to take othders koifn work to get neough to eat, I canacteh. If I do it well, it will drawpeople to me-- to Earthseed.
All successful life is Adaptable, Opportunistic, Tenacious, Interconnected, and Fecund. Understand this. Use it.
Shape God.
I wrote that verse a few mhsoangto. It's true like all
the veress. It seme s more true than eervnow, more useful to me when I'm afraid.
I've finally got a title for my book of Earthseeeds--veErsarthseed: The Bokof the Living. There aretheTibetanandtheEgyptianBooksoftheDead.Dadh ascopiesof them. I've never ahred of anything caell
d a bok of the living, but I wouldn't be
surprised to
idscover that there is somenthgi. I donc'tare. I'm trying
stopeak-- towrite-- the truth. I'm
trying to be caler. I'm not intesrted in benigfancy, or eveonriginal. Clarity and truhtwill be plenty, if I can only achieve tehm. If it happnes that theraere
otherpeopleoutsidesomewherepreachingmytruth,I'll join them. Otheriwse, I'll adapt where I must, take whatopportunitiesIcanfindormake,hangon, gatherstudents,andteach.
12
We are Earthseed
The life that perceives itself
Changing.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
SATURDAYN,
OVEMBER14,2026
TheGarfieldshavebeenacceptedatOlivar.
They'll be movinngext month. That soon. I'venokwn them all my life, and they'll be gonaen.neJaond I
have had
uor differences, but we gerwup together. I
thought somehow that when I left, she ldwostuill be here. Everyone would still be here, frozen in time just as I left them. But no, that's fantasy. GCohdanigse.

"Do you awnt to go?" I asdkheer this monring. Wehadgottentogethertopickafewearlylemonsand naveol ra ngesandsomepersimmons,almostripeand brililant orange. We picked at my housen,d athenathers, enjoyingthework.Theweatherwas coolI.twasgoodtobeoutside.
"I have to go," she said.ha"Wt elseisthere for me-- for anyone. It's all nggotoi
hell here. You
okwn it is."
I stared at her. I egsus discussing such thignsis all right onw that shheasaway out. "So you move ianntooth erfortress,"Isaid.
"It'sabetterfortress.Itwon'thavepeoplecomingover the walsl, killing
lod ladies."
"Your motehrsaysall you'll have aisnapartment. No yard. No garden. Yohua'lvl e less money, but you'll have to use more of it to buy food."
"We'll mnaage!" There was
barittle quality to her vcoei.
I put down the old rake Iuswinagsasa fruit
ipcker.
Itworkedfineonthelemonsandoranges."Scared?"I asked.
She put down hoewr nreal fruit
ipcker with its
awkwardextensionhandleandsmallfruit-catching basketI.twasbestforpersimmons.Shehugged herself". I've livedhere,livedwithtreesandgardensall my lifeI. . . . don't knowowh it will be to bheuts up in an aap rtment. It does sacre me, but we'll magnea. We'll have to."
"You cnacomeback here if thingasren't what yohuope.Yourgrandparentsandyouraunt'sfamilywill stilbl e here.
"Harry will still be here,"ewshispered, lookingtowardherhouse.Iwouldhavetostopthinkingofitas the Ga rfield house. Harry and Jonane were at leaast scloseasCurtisand I. I hadn't thought oaubt her leavnig him-
-what that must be like. I like HBaarrlyter.IrememberbeingsurprisedwhenheandJoanne first startegd
oing
together. They'd lived in the samhoeuse all their leivs. I had thought ofarHry almosat sher brother. But
they were
noly first cuosins, and
gaainst the ods, they had maanged to fall in love. Or I thought they had.
They hadn't gnoewithanyoneelseforyears.Everyoneassumedtheywould get aruond to marryingwhen they were a littloelder.
"Marry him nad take hmi with you," I said.
"He won't go," sehsaid in that same whpiesr. "We've talkeadnd talkedabout it. He wants me to staeyre h with him, get married soaond gonorth. Just. . .go with no proescpts. Nothing. It's crazy."
"Why wno't he go to Olivar?"

"He thinks the way your fadthoeers. He thinkOs livar'satrap.He'sreadaboutnineteenthandearlytwentieth
century compa ny towns, and andlossoffreedom."
ehsays no matter ohw great Olivar looks, all we'll get from thiteeindisdebt
I knwe Harry had snese. "Jo," I said, "you'll be of age next year. Yodustacyouhl ere with the Balters until then and marry. Or yuocould talkyour fatherinto letting you marryown ."
"And then whaGt?ojoin the tsreet poor? Stay and stuff more bbieas into that
ocrwded house. Harrydoe
sn'thaveajob,andthere'snorealchanceofhis gettingonethatpaysmoney.Arewesupposedto liveonwhatHarry's parentsearn?Whatkindoffuture is that? None! None at all!"
Sensible. Conservative and senisble and mature and wrong.VerymuchincharacterforJoanne.
OrmaybeIwastheonewhowaswrong.Maybethesecurity Joanne will find in Olivar is the only kinsed of
curitytobehadforanyonewhoisn'trich.Tome,though, security in Olivar nis t' ecurity Keith has finally found inurhnis.
much more attractive than the s
Ipickedafewmorelemonsandsomeorangesand wonderedwhatshewoulddoifsheknewIwasalso plannni gto leavenextyear.Wouldsheruntoher motheragain,frightenedforme,andeagertohavesomeonep rotect me from myself? She might. She
wantsafutureshecanunderstandanddependon--a future that looks a lot hlikeer parents' present. I don't think tha'tspossible. Thingsare changing toomuch,toofast.WhocanfightGod?
We put abskets of fruit inidse my back door on pthoerch,thenheadedforherhouse.
"What will you do?" she asked me as wlkeedw. a
"Are you just gnogito stay heer?I mean. . .are you going to staymarrdy Curtis?"
I shrgugedand lied. "I don't
okwn . If I marry anyone, it will be Curtis. But I ndoowna'tbkout marrying. I
don't want to have chdirlenhereany more tahnyoudo.Iknowwe'llbestayinghereforawhilelonger,though.
Dad won't let Cory eveanpply to Olivar. I'm glad of thatabuesce I don't
awnt to go there. But there'll be
other Olivars. Who knowswhat I might wind duoping?" That last
dni 't feel like a lie.
"You think there'll beorme privatizedcities?" sheasked.
"Bound to be if Olivaurccseeds. Thiscountry isgoingtobeparceledoutasasourceofcheaplabor andcheapla nd.WhenpeoplelikethoseinOlivarbeg to sell thmeselve s, our survivigncitiesareboundtowinduptheeconomi ccoloniesofwhoever can afford to buy them."

"Oh, God, there ygoouagain. You've lawaysgot a disasterupyoursleeve."
"I see wh'astout there. You see it too. You just deny it."
"Rememberwhenyouthoughtstarvinghordeswere goingtocomecrawlingoverourwallsandwewouldhave to
run away to the mounntaisand eat garss?" Did I rememb?eIr
turned to
cfaeher, first angry--
furious--thentomyownsurprise,sad."I'llmissyou," I said.
She must have read my fegesli.n"I'm sorry," shwehispered. Wehuggedeachother.Ididn'taskherwhatshe wassorryfor,andshedidn'tsayanymore.TUESDAY,
NOVEMBER 17, 2026
Daddidn'tcomehometoday.Hewasduethis morning.
I don't konwwhat that means. I don't kwnwo hat to think. I'm sceadrto death.
Corycalledthecollege,hisfriends,fellowministers,co-workers, the
ocps, the
ohspitals. . . .
NothingH.
eisn'tunderarrestorsickorinjuredor dead--atleastnotasfarasanyoneknows.Noneof hisfriendsor
colleagueshadseenhimsinceheleft workearlythismorning.Hisbikewasworkingall rightH. ewasallright. Hehadriddenofftowardhomewiththree
co-workerswholivedinotherneighborhoodsinour
area. Each of theessaid thesamething: That they had left himusausal at Rievr Street where it intersetcs
Durant Road. Tha'stonly five blocks from here. We're at the tip-enduroafntDRoad.
Sowhereishe?
Today a group of us,aramlled, rode
ibcyclesfromhometoRiverStreetanddownRiverStreettothe colel ge.
Fivemilesinall.Wecheckedsidestreets,alleys, vacant buli dings, every palce we
oculd think of. I went. I
took Marcuswith me
ebcause if I hadnh'te, wouldhavegoneoutalone.IhadtheSmith& Wesson.Marcushado
nlyhisknife.He'squickandagile with it, and strong foisr hage, but he'ns
ever usedit on anything alive. If
anything had hapened to him, I don't think I would hareed dto ghoome. Cory is lraeadyout of her min dwith worry. All this on top of losing Keith. . . . I don't know. Everyon.JeayheGlpaerdfieldwill be leavni
g soon, but that didn't stop him from inlegadthe search.
eH'sa good man. He did eeryvthing he colud
think of to find DaTdo.morrowwe'regoingintothehillsandcanyons.
We have to. Nonoe wants to, but what else can dwo?e
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 18,
2026
I'veneverseenmoresqualor,morehumanremains,more feral dgos than I asw today. I have to write. I

have to dump thoinsto paper. I can't keep it idnesoi fme.Seeingthedeadhasneverbotheredmebefore,but thi s. ..
WewerelookingforDad'sbody,ofcourse,thoughno on esaid so. I oculdn't deny that reality or avoid
thinkingaboutit.Corycheckedwiththepoliceagain,with the ew Dad.
Nothing.
ohspitals, with eev
ryonewe could thnik ofwhokn
So we had to go to thles. hWil henwe go ofr target parctice, we don't
olokaround, except to insure
safety. We don't
olokforwhat we'd rathernot find. Today in ogurpsof threeorfour, wecombed through the
areanearest to the top of River Street. I kept uMswairtch me-which was not aesy. What is it yionung boysthatmakesthemwanttowanderoff aloneandgetkilled?Theygettwochinhairsandthey're trying to prove they're men.
"You watch my back and I'lltcwh ayours," I said. "I'm not going to let you get ohnu'rtt.yoDu let me down."Hegavemethekindofnear-smilethatsaidheknewexactly what I aws trying to do, and that haes w going to do ashe pel ased. I got mad and gbraebdhimbytheshoulders.
"Damnit, Marucs, howmany sisters have you got? oHw many fathers have you got!" I never used even mild profanity with him luenss thingswere veryserious.Now,itgothisattention.
"Don't worry," he muttered. "I'll help."
Thenwefoundthearm.Marcuswastheonewhospotted it-- smo following.Itwashungupinthelowbranchesof ascruboak.
ethingdark lying just off the trailwweere
Thearmwasfreshandwhole--ahand,alower,and anupperarm.Ablackman'sarm,justthecolorof myfather'sw herecolorcouldbeseen.Itwassla shedand cut all over, yet still peorfwul looking-- long-boned, long-finge red, yet muscualrand massive. . . . Familiar?
Smoothw, hitebonestuckoutattheshoulderend.The armhad been cut off with a sharp knife. The ebon wasn't broken. And, yes. It could haveenbheis.
Marcusthrewupwhenhesawit.Imademyselfexamine it, search it for something familiar, for incetyrt.aJay
Garfield trei d to stop me, and hIovsed him away and ltodhim to go to hell. I'm sorry for that, and I told him so later. But I had to know. yAetn,Idstilldon'tknow.Thearmwastooslashedandcovered in dreid blo
od. I coulnd't tell. Jay Garfieldtookfingerprintsinhispocketnotebook,butweleft thearmitself.Howcouldwet akethatbacktoCory?And we kept esarching. What lese could we do?
George Hsu fuond a rattelsnake. It didn't bite anyone and we didn't kill it. I don't thine waansyoin a mood to kill thgins.
We sawdogs, but they kept away from us. I eavwen as cat watcnhgi us from udner a runlikehellorcrouchandfreeze.They're
interesting to wtach, somehow. Or, at any other timthee,y'dbeinteresting.
ubsh. Catseither
Then somoene began to scream. I've nevereahrdscreamslikethatbefore--onandon.Aman,screaming, beg
ging, praying: "No! Nmo
ore! OhG,
od,nomore,please.Jesus,Jesus,Jesus,please!"Thentherewerewordless,

gratingcriesandhigh, horriblemewling.
It was a man's voice, not like my 'fsabtuhternot that different fromis.hWe coulnd't locate the suorce. Theechoesbouncedaroundthecanyon,confusingus, sendingusfirstinonedirection,theninanother.The canyon wasfulloflooserockandspiny,vicious plantsthatkeptusonthepathwayswherethere werepathways.
Thescreamingstopped,thenbeganagainasakind ofhorrible,bubblingnoise.
I had let myself fall back to ntdheoef the line of us by then. I wasn'tubinle.troSound sharing.Ihavetoseeanotherpersoninpainbefore
Idoanysharing.AndthiswasoneI'ddoanythingtoavoidseeing. Marcusdroppedbackbesidemeandwhispered,
"Youokay?"
"Yeah," I said. "I just don't want otowaknnything about what'hsappening to that man. "Keith," hseaid.
"I know," I agerde.
odesn't trigger my
Wewalkedourbikesbehindtheothers,watchingtheback trail. Kayla Talcott drpoepd back to see if we were all right. Sheadhn't wantedu sto come, bustincewehadcome,shehadcome,shehadkeptan eyeonus. She'slikethat.
"It doesn't suond like your adddy," shesaid. "Doesn't sound like hmi at all." Kayla is from Texas like my biologicalmother.Sometimesshesoundedasthoug hshe'd never left, and sometimes she
soundedasthoughshe'dneverbeennearanypartof the south. Sheeesmed to bae
ble to turn the accent on
andoff. She tended to turn it on for
ocortminfg people, and forhrteatening to kill them. Sometimswehen
I'm with Cursti, Isee her in hfiasceandwonderwhatkindofrelative--whatkindof mother-ni -law--shewould make.TodayIthinkboth MarcusandIweregladshewasthere.Weneeded tobeclosetosomeonewithherkindof mothering strength.
Thehorriblenoiseended.Maybethepoormanwasdead and out of his ismery. I hope so. Weneverfoundhim.Wefoundhumanbonesand animabl ones.Wefoundtherottingcorpsesoffive peoplescatter
edamongtheboulders.Wefoundthe
coldremainsofafirewithahumanfemurandtwo humanskullslyingamongtheashes. Atlast,wecamehomeandwrappedourcommunitywall around us and huddled in our illussioofnsecurity.

SUNDAYN,
OVEMBER22,2026
No one has fuond my father. Almost everydualt intheneighborhoodhasspentsometimelooking. Richard
Mossdidn't,buthisoldestsonanddaughter didW.
ardellParrishdidn't,buthissisterandoldestnephew did. I
don't kno wwhat else peoplecould have done. If I did know, I ldwobue out dinog it.
And yet nothing, nothing, nontgh!i The poicl e never cameupwith any isgn of him. He neervturnedup anywhere.He'svanished,gone.Eventhesevered arm'sfingerprintsweren'this.
Every night since eWdnesday, I've deramed that horrible screaming. I've gone out
itcwe more withteams
huntingthroughthecanyons.We'vefoundnothing but more of the deadand thepoorest of thleiving--people whoareallstaringeyesandvisible bones.Myownbonesachedinempathy. SometimesifIsleepforawhilewithouth
earingthescreaming, I see
eth se-- the living edad. I've always seenthem. I've never esen them.
A team I wasn't with nfdoua living childeibngeaten
by dogs. The atme
killed thdeogs, then wtached,helplessastheboydied.
I spoke at seicrvesthis morning. Maybe it was my duty. I don't know. ePceaomplefor church, all uncertainand upset, not konwing what they should do. I think they wanted atwo todgrether, and they had
years of habit draiwng them togehter at they came.
uorhouseonSundaymorning.Theywereuncertainandhesita nt, but
Both Wyatt Talcott and Jay Garfield oefdfetrospeak.Bothdidsayafewwords,bothinformallyeulogizing my father, though neithe radmitted that that wsawhat they were doing. I was afraeidveryonewoulddothatand theservicewould becomeanimpossibleimpromptufuneral.WhenIstoodu p, it wasn'tusjt to say a ucpole of words. I meant to give themmseothing they oculd take home-- something that might make them feel that enoughhadbeensaidfortoday.
Ithankedthemallfortheongoing--emphasizeongoin g-- efforts to find my father. Then. . .well,Itathlkeend aboutperseverance.Ipreachedasermonabout persevera nce if an unordnaei d kid cabnesaidtopreachaserm
on.Noonewasgoingtostopme.Cory was thoe
nly one who might have terdi , butCorywasinakindofwalking
coma.Shewasn't doinganythingshedidn'thavetodo. So I preached froLmuke, chapter eighteen, verses
onethrougheight:theparableoftheimportunate widow.It'soneI'vealwaysliked.Awidowisso persistent,inher demandsforjusticethatshe overcomestheresistanceofajudgewhofears neitherGodnorman.Shewearshimd own.Moral: Th eweakcan overcomethe strong if the wakepersist. Persistingisn't always safe, but iotf'sten necessary.
Myfatherandtheadultspresenthadcreatedandmaintaine dourcommunity in spite of the scarcity and the violence outside. Now, with my fathoer without him, that community had to go on, hold together,
survive. I talked aobut my nightmaers andthesourceofthosenightmares.Somepeoplemightnot have wanet d
theirkids to
ehar thni gs like that, but I didn't care. If Keith had known more, maybe he
would still be alive. But I didn't mention Keith. PceooupldlesaywhathappenedtoKeithwashisownfault.No one could say that aobut Dad. I didn't awnt anyone to be laebto say it about this comunmity someday.

"Those nightmares of mine are our ufruet if we fail one ahneort," I said, wndi ingup. "Starvation, agonayt thehandsofpeoplewhoaren'thumananymore. Dismemberment.Death.
"WehaveGodandwehaveeachother.Wehave ourislandcommunity,fragile,andyetafortress. Sometimesitse emstoosmallandtooweakto
surviveA. ndlikethewidowinChrist'sparable,its enemei sfearneitherGodnorman.Butalsolikethe widow,itpers ists.We persist. This isuro place, no matter what."
That was my messgae. I left it there, hangbinegfore them with an unifsinhed feel to it. I could feel them expectingmore, thenrealizing that I awsn't goni gto say more, then bitingowdn onwhat I had said.
At just the right moment, Kayla Talcogttanbean
lod song. Others took it up, gsiinngslowly, but with
feeling: "We hsall not, weshall not be moevd. . . ."
I think this might have sdoeudn weakor even pitifuslomehowifithadbeenbegunbyalesservoice.Ithink I
might have asng it wae
kly. I'm only a fair gseinr. Kayla, on the othhearnd, has a big voicbee, autiful,clear,
andabletodoeverythingsheasksof it. Also, Kayla has a reputationn fotr movingunlessshewantsto.
Latera, sshewasleaving,Ithankedher.
She looked at me. I'dowgrn past her yeasrago, and shhead to looukp. "Good job," she said, and ed and wlakedaway towardher house. I lovheer.
dnod
Igotothercomplimentstoday,andIthinktheyweresin cere. Most said, in one way or haenro, t "You're right,"
and "I didn't konwyou couldpreach
ilke that," and "Your faetrhwould beproud of you."
Yeah. I hope so. I did it for him. He builtncthhis bu
of houses inatocommunity. And now, h'se probably dead. I wounld't let them bury him, but
oI wk.n I'm
nogoodatdenialandself-deception.ThatwasDad's funeratlhatIwaspreaching--hisandthecommunity's. Beca
use asm uch as I want all thsaat idI
by whom, nad in howmanypieces.
13
Thereisnoend
To what a living world
Will demand of you.
to be true,
sitn'it. We'll be moved, all right. It's just a mattehr eonf, w
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING

SATURDAYD, ECEMBER19,2026
Today ReevrendMatthew Robinson in whosechurch I wsabaptized came to preach my father's funeralC. orymadethearrangements.Therewasno bodyn, ourn.Nooneknowswhathappenedtomyfather.
Neither wen or the poicl ehave been able tfoindout.We'resurehe'sdead.Hewouldfindaway tocomehomeif hewerealive,sowe'recertainhe's dead.
No, w'erenot certain. We're not certain at all. Is he sick somew?hHeurert?Held against his will for who knowswhatreasonbywhoknowswhatmonsters?
ThisisworsethanwhenKeithdied.Somuchworse.As horriblea sthat was, we kenwhe wasdead. Whatever he suffered, we nkewhewasn't suffering any more. Not inswthoirld, anyway. Weknew.Now,we don't know anything. He iseadd. But we dno't know!
TheDunnsmusthavefeltthiswhenTracyvanished.Cra zy as theayre, crazyasshe was, they must have felt this. What do they feel now.acTyr nevercame back. If shen'sot dead, what must hbaeppeningtoheroutsid e?Agirlaloneonlyfacedonekindof
futureoutside.Iintendtogooutposingasamanwhen I go.
How will they all feel ewnhI go? I'll be dead to them-- to Cory, the boys, gthbonrheoi od. They'lhl ope
I'mdead,consideringthesupposed alternativeT. hankDadformytallnessandmy strength.
I won't have to leaveadDnow. H'esalready left meH. ewas57.Whatreasonwouldstrangershavefor kee
pinga57-year-oldmanalive?Oncethey'drobbed him, they woldu either let him go or kill him. If they let him
go, he'd cmo
ehome, walking, limping, crawling.
Sohe'sdead.That's that. It hsato be.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 22, 2026
The Garfields left for Olivar today-- Phillida, Jay, anadnnJeo. An amr ored KSF truck acme from Oliavr
tocollectthemandtheirbelongings.Theadultsofthecommunity had all they couddl o to
ekep the littlkeidsfrom
climbingalloverthetruckandpesteringthe drivers to death. oMst kid smy brothers' ages have never eben close to a truck that runs. SomteheoyfoungerMosskidshaveneverseenatruckofany kind. The Moss kid s weren't even aollwed to
visitheYannishousebackwhentheYannistelevision still worked.
ThetwoguysfromKSFwerepatientoncethey reailzedthekidsweren'tthievesorvandals.Those twoguyswith theiruniforms,pistols,whips,and clubs,lookedmorelikecopsthanmovers.Nodoubt theyhadevenmoresu

bstantialweaponsinthetruck. My brotehr Bennett sia dhe saw bigergunsmountedinsidethetruckwhenhe climbedontothe hoodB. utwhenyouconsiderhowmuchatruckthatsize is worth, anhd ow many people might want to relieve them of it and itstecnotsn, I geuss theweaponryisn'tsurprising.
Thetwomoverswereablackandawhite,andIcould see that Cory ncosidered that hpoeful. MaybeOlivarwo uldn'tbethewhiteenclavethatDadhad
expected.
Cory cornered the abclkguy and talked to him afsolrongashewouldlether.Willshetrynowtogetusinto Olivar? I think she will. After all, withoaudt'sDsalary,she'llhavetodosomething.Idon'tthinkwe haveapraye rofbeingaccepted.Theinsurance companyisn'tgoingtopay--ornotforalongtime.Its peopl echoosenot to believe that Dad disead. Without proof he can't beecldared legally dead ofr seven yaers. Can they hold
on to
uor money for that long? I don'towkn, but it wouldn't spurrise me. We coldu starve many times
over
ni seven years. AndCorymustknowshealonecan'tearnenoughinOlivar to feed anhd ouseus. Is she oh
ping to get work for me, too? nI't dkonowwhat we're going todo.
JoanneandIcriedallovereachother,saying
good-bye. Wepromised to
hponeeach other, to stay in touch. I don'tkwthein'll beable to. It costs extra
to call Olivar. Wewon't be able to afford it. I don't thinewk ilslh either. Chances are, I'll never see her again. The people I've grownpwuith are falling out of my life, one by one.
Afterthetruckpulledaway,IfoundCurtisandtookhim back to the oldarkdroom to make love. We hadn't d
one it for a long time, and Idendeeit. I wishIcouldimaginejustmarryingCurtis,stayinghere,and having da e cent life with him.
It isn't poisbsle. Even if there ewre no Earthseed, itwouldn'tbepossible.Iwouldalmostbedoingthefamily a favor if I left now-- oneessl mouth to feed. Uensls I could somehowg et a job. . . .
"We've got to get out of here, touor,"tisCsaidaswe lay together afterawrd, lingering, tempting fate, not wanting to olse the feel ofaceh other so son. But that wasn't what hhaed meant. I turned my head to look at him.
"Don't you want to go?"ashkeed. "Wouldn't you like to get out of this deadneiegnhdborhood, out of
Robledo.
I nodded. "I wausstj thinking that. But-- "
"I want you to marry me, and Iuwstoantget out ohfere,"hesaidinanearwhisper."Thisplaceisdying." lookeddownat
him. The only light in themrcoaome from a snigle window up near the ceiling. Nothing covered it any more, and the glass was broken out of it, but still, only a little light camise's infa.ceCuwrtas full oshfado ws.
"Where do you want to go?" I asked him.
"Not Olivar," he idsa. "That colud turn out to bebigagerdeadendthanlivinghere."

"Where,then?"
"Idon'tknow.OregonorWashington?Canada? Alaska?"
I don't think I gave any sign odfensudexcitement. People tell me my facoeesdn't showthem what I'm feeling.Mysharinghasbeenahardteacher.Buthe sawsomething.
"You've alreadbyeen thni kingabout leavni g, haven't you," he demdaend. "That'swhy you won't talk aobut getting married. "
Irestedmyhandonhissmoothchest.
"Youwerethinkingaboutgoingalone!"Hegraspedmy wrist, eseme dready to to it, kept it. "You weurest jgoing to wlka away fromhereand leave me."
Iturnedsothathecouldn'tseemyfacebecausenow I had a fenegli my emotino
upsh it away. Thehne held on
swere all too obviou:Csonfus
ion, fear,
ohpe. . . . Of course I had intended tolongeo, and of cuorse I hadn't told anyone that aIs w
leaving. And I had noet cdided yethowDad'sdisappearancewouldaffectmygoing.That rai sed frgi htening questions. What are my responsibilities? What will happen to my brothleerasveiftheImtoCory?They're hersons,andshe'llmove the earth to takearec of them, keephetm fed andclothedandhoused.Butcanshedo italone? How?
"I want to go," I admitted, moving around, trybinegcotmofortableonthepalletofoldsleepsacksthatwe had put down on the ncocrete floor. "I planned to go. Don't tell anney."o
"Howcan I if I go with you?"
I smiled, loving him. B..ut..
"Cory and my bhreorts are giong to ned help," I said. "Wenh my father aws
here, I planed to go next year when I'm 18. Now. .
.I don't know." "Wherewereyougoing?"
"North. Maybe safar asCanada. Maybe not." "Alone?"
"Yeah."
"Why?" Why alone, he manet.
I shrguged. "I coulgdet killedassoonasI leavehere.Icouldstarve.Thecopscouldpickmeup.Dog scould get me. I colud catch a disease. Anything coduhlappen to me; I've thought oaubt it. I haven't namdhealf the badpossibilities."
"That's why you neheedlp!"
"That's why I counl'dt ask anyone lsee to walakwayfromfoodandshelterandasmuchsafetyasthereis inour world.Tojuststartwalkingnorth,andhope youwindupsomeplacegood.HowcouldIaskthatof you?"

"It's not that bad. Fartheorrtnh, we can gtwe ork."
"Maybe. But people haveeebn flooding north for years. Jbosare scarceupthere, too. And statenlei sandb ordersareclosed."
"There'snothingdownhere!" "I know." "SohowcanyouhelpCoryandyourbrothers?"
"I want to marry you," I said. I hesitated, andwathsaebresolutesilence.Icouldn'tbelieveI'dheardmyself say such a tnhgi , but it was true. Maybe aIs wju st feeling bereft. Keith, my father, the Garsf,ielMd rs. Quintanilla. . .P. eople could disappearsoeasily.Iwantedsomeonewithmewhocaredabout mea, ndwhowo uldn'tdisappear.Butmyjudgementwasn't entirely gone.
"When my family isacbkonits feet, we'll marry," I said. e"nThwecan get out oferhe. I just have to know that my brothesrwill be all right."
"If we're going toarmry anyway, why not do it now?" BuseecaI have thginsto tell you, I thought. Because if you reject me orakme mereject you with your arcetions, I don't want to have to haaronugnd a ndwatchyouwithsomeoneelse.
"Not now,"saIid. "Wait for me," Heshookhisheadinobviousdisgust."Whatthehell doyouthinkI'vebeendoing?" THURSDAYD, ECEMBER24,2026
It'sChristmasEve.
Last ngiht someoneset fire to the Payne-Paisrhr
house. While tehcommunity tried to put out the fire, and
then trei d to kepit from spreaidng, three ohterhouseswererobbed.Ourswasoneofthethree. Thievestookall ourstore-boughtfood:wheatflour,
sugar,cannedgoods,packagedgoods....They tookourradio--ourlastone.Thecrazythingis,befor ewe went
to bed we hadeebn listening to haalf-hournewsfeatureaboutincreasingarson.People are settinmg
ore fires
to cover crimes-- althoughwhy they wolud bother these days, I don't okwn. The poicl eare no htreat to criminals. Peoplearesettingfirestodowhatourarsonistdidlastnight-- to get the neibgohrs of the arson victim
to leavetheirownhomesunguarded.Peoplearesetting fires to get rid of owmhever they
idslike from person
alenemiestoanyonewholooksorsounds foreignorraciallydifferent.Peoplearesettingfiresbecause they're frustrated, angry, hopelessT. hey have no opwer to improve thire lives, but they have
the power to make power is to use it.
eortsh evenmore miserable. And the only way to prove to yourself that you have
Thenthere'sthatfiredrugwithitsdozenorsoname s: Blaze, fuego, flash, suirnef. . . . The mpoospt ularnameis

pyro--shortforpyromania,It'sall thesamedrug,andit'sbeenaroundforawhile.From what Keith said, it'se b coming morepopula r. Itmakeswatchingtheleaping,changingpatternsoffire a better, more intense, loenr-gla sting high thansex.LikeParacetco,mybiologicalmother'sdrugof choice,pyroscrewsaroundwithpeople's neurochemi stry. But Paracteco beganasa
legitimatedrugintendedtohelpvictimsof Alzheimer'sdisease.Pyrowasanaccident.Itwasahome -brew-- aba sement drug inventdeby someonewhowastryingtoassembleoneoftheother
higher-pricedstreetdrugs.Theinventormadeavery smalcl hemicalmistake,andwoundupwithpyro. Thathapp
enedontheeastcoastandcausedanimmediate increase in the nmuber of senseel
ssarsonfires,largeandsmall.
Pyro worekdits way west whiot ut making nearly as much troubalesit could have. Now its ppoularity is gr owing. And idnry-as-straw southern California, itcancausearealorgyofburning.
"MyGod,"Corysaidwhentheradioreportwasover.And in a small, wi hspery voice, she uqoted from the
Book of Revleation: "`Babylon thgereat is faelln, is fallen, and isecbome the habitaotinof devils. . . .'" And the devils set fire to the Payne-Parrisohushe.
At about two a.m. I awoke to the injagngolf the beEll:mergency!Earthquake?Fire?Intruders?
But there wasosnhaking, no unfamiliar noise, snmooke.Whateverwashappening,itwasn'tatour house.Igot up,threwclothingon,debatedforasecon dwhether to snatch my survival pack, thenit.lOefut rhousedidn't seemtobeinimmediatedanger. Mypackwassafeinthecloset,mixedinamongblankets and bundle sof old cloth es. If I had to haitv,Iecouldcomebackandsnatchitinseconds.
Iranoutsidetoseewhatwasneeded,andsawatonce. The Payne-Parrish hou se was fully involvesdu,rrounde dbyfire.Oneofthewatchersondutywas stilsl oundingthealarm.Peoplespilledfromallthe houses,andmusthavese enasIdidthatthe
Payne-Parrishhousewasatotalloss.Neighbors werealreadywettingdownthehousesoneither sideA.
liveoak
tree--oneofourhuge,ancient ones--wasafire.Therewasalightwindblowing, swirlingbitsofburningleavesandtw igsintotheair andscatteringthem.Ijoinedthepeoplewhowere beatingandwettingthegrounds.
WherewerethePaynes?WherewasWardell Parrish?Hadanyonecalledthefiredepartment?Ahouse full of people, after all, it wasn't like uarnib nggarage.
I asekd several people. Kayla Talcott said sheadh calel d them. I was grateful aansdhamed. I woludn't
have asked if Dad weesrtill with us. One of us would have just calloewd. wNe
oculdn't afford otcall.
NoonehadseenanyofthePaynes.WardellParrish IfoundintheYannisyardwhereCoryandmy brotherBennett werewrappinghiminablanket.He wascoughingsomuchthathecouldn'ttalk,and wearingonlypajamapants.
"Isheokay?"Iasked.
"He breathed a lot omfoske," Cory siad. "Hassomeonecalled-- "
"Kayla Talcott caeldl
the fire dpeartment."
"Good. But no o'nseat the gate to let them in."
"I'll go.I"turnedaway, but she caguht my arm.

"The others"?she whispered. She maent the
Paynes, of cuorse. "I don't konw." Shenoddedandletmego.
I went to the gate, borrowinlgexAMontoya's
eky on the way. He always msed to have his tgea key
in his
opcket. It was ebcause of him that I didn'tbagcokintoourhouseandmaybeinterruptarobbery andbe
killedformytrouble.
Firefighet rs arrived in no gear t hurry. I let them in, locked the gaeter tahfet m, and wahtcedasthey put out the fire.
NoonehadseenthePaynes.Wecouldonly
assume they ahd nevergotten out. Cory terdi untilhefoundoutonewayortheotherabouthis
twinsisterandhisniecesandnephews.
to take Wardell Parrish to hoouurse,but he refused to leave
Whenthefirewasalmostout,thebellbegantoringagain. We all looked arounC.d aroline Balet r, Harry's mother,wasjerkingandpushingatthebelland screaming.
"Intruders!" hse shouted. "Thieves! They've borken into the houes!"
Andweallrushedwithoutthinkingbacktoourhouses. Wardell Parrish cma
ealong with my familsyti,llcou
ghing,andwheezing,andasuseless--as weaponless--astherestofus.Wecouldhavebeenkilled, rushing in that way. Instead, we wereuclky. Wescaredawayourthieves.
Along with orustore-bought food and the riaod, thethievesgotsomeofDad'stoolsandsupplies--nails,wire, scre ws, bolts, that kdinof thing. They didn't get the phonecothmputer, oranything in Dad's office. In fact, they didn't get into Dad's office at allp. pIosseu wescared them away before they cldosuearchthewh olehouse.
TheystoleclothingandshoesfromCory'sroom,butdidn't touch my rooom rthe boys'. They got some of our money-- thekitchen money, Cory calls it. She had dheind it in the khitecn in a box of detergeSnhte. had thoughtnoonewouldstealsuchathing.In factt,hethievesmighthavestolenitforresalewithout realizing that it was n't just detergent. It could have bneweorse. The kitchen money was onlayboutathousanddollarsforminor
emergencies.The thieves somehidden
idd not find theesrt of our mno ey, some of it hidden out by our letrmeeo,n and
withourtworemaininggunsunderthefloorinCory'sclo set. Dad
ahd gone to a lot of trouble to make a kind

of floorsafe, not lockedb,ut completelyconcealedbeneatharugandabatteredchestof
drawersfilledwithsewingthings--salvagedbitsofcloth, button s, zippers, hooks, thignslike that. Thcehestof
drawerscouldbemovedwithonehand.Itslid fromone sdi secondsyoucouldhavethemoney and thge unsin your
eof the closet to the other if pyuosuheditright,andin ahnds. The cnocealment trick woudln't have defeaet
dpeople whohad time to make a thougroh search, but it had defeatedurothieves. They had dmuped some of the dawr ers onto the folor, but they had not thgohut tolookunderthechest.
ThethievesdidtakeCory'ssewingmachine.Itwas acompact,sturdyoldmachinewithitsowncarryingcase. Both
case and machin ewere gone. That was a real
oblw. Cory and I both use that miancehto make, aelrt,
and repairclothingfor the family. I had thought I might even be abalrenstomeemoneywiththemachine, sewingforotherpeopleinthe neighborhood.Nowthemachineisgone.Sewingforthe family will have to be
done by hnad. It will take mumch ore time, anmd ay not look like hwat we're used to. Bad. Hard. But not
a fatal blow. Corcyried over the loss of
mhearchine, but wecanget along without it. Sheu'sstj being worn
down by one
oblwafteranother.
We'lal dapt.We'llhaveto.GodisChange.Strangeh ow much it heplsme to rme emberthat. Curtsi Talcott justcame to my window to tell me that
thefiremenhavefoundcharredbodiesandbonesin theashesofthePayne-Parrishhouse.Thepolice arehere,taki ngreportsoftherobberiesandtheobviousarson. I told Cory. She can tell WardellisPhaorrrlet the cpostell him. He'slying down on one of our livingmrcooouches. I doubt that 'hsesleeping. Even though I've neerv
likedhim, I feeslorryforhim.He'slosthishomeandhisfamily.He'sthe only survivorW. TUESDAY, DECEMBER 29, 2026
hat must that beikel ?
Idon'tknowhowlongitcanlast,butinsomewaythat I susep
ct is not quite glael, Cory has taken oevr part of
the job Dad held for so nlgo. She'll give thcelassesDadgave.Withthecomputerhookupswe havealreadyin place,she'llissueassignments, receivehomework,andbeavailableforphoneandcompu-confe rences. The da ministrative part ofDad'sworkwillbehandledbysomeoneelsewho canusetheextramoney,andwhoiswillingtos howup at the colgle emore often than noceortwice amonth.ItwillbeasthoughDadwerestillteaching, buht add ecidedtogiveuphisotherresponsibilities. Coryhasarrangedthisbypleadingandbegging,bycryingand cajolinga nd calling in eev ry favor and
everyfriendshecouldthinkof.Peopleatthecollegekno wher. She taught there before Benn'settbirthb, efore shesawtheneedhereandbeganthe
front-roomschool that esrvesall the children of tnheeighborhood.Dadwasallforherquittingthe colel gebecau
sehedidn'twanthergoingbackandforth outsdi
e, exposed to all the dgaenrs that involved. The nehibgorspay
a per-kidfee, but it isnm'tuch.Noonecouldsupportahouseholdonit.
Now Cory will have to go ioduetsagain. She'aslreadydraftingmenandolderboysinthe neighborhoodtoe scortherwhenshehastogoout. Thereareplentyofunemployedmenhere,andCory wilbl epayingthemasmallfee.
Soinafewdays,thenewtermwillstartandCorywill do Dad's work--while I do her work. I'll hanthdele schoolwithhelpfromherandfromRusselDory, JoanneandHarry'sgrandfather.Heusedtobea highschoolmathte
acher.He'sbeenretiredforyears, but
eh' sstill sharp. I don't think I neeids help, but oCry does, and h'es
willing, so tha'stthat. Alex Montoya and Kayla Talcott will takerDoavde'spreachingandotherchurchwork. Neitherisordained, but both ave substituted forDad in the past. Both have aourtihty in the comumnity
and the cuhrch. And, of course, bhoktnowtheir Bible.

Thisishowwewillsurviveandholdtogether.Itwillwork. I don't nkow how lon git will last, but for noww, ililt work.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 30,
2026
Wardell Parrish ahs finally drgaged hmi
self back to his epople-- to the aprt of his family that he lived with
beforeheandhissisterinheritedtheSimshouse. He'sstayedwithussincehissisterandallherchildre nwere killed. Cory gave hmi someof Dad'sclotheswhichweretoobigforhim.Muchtoobig.
He wanedred around, not talknig, not seme ing to
seeanything, not eating eonugh. . . . Then yesdtaeyr
he siad, like a little boy, "I want to go home. I can't
stay here. I hate it here; evoenrey's dead! I have
gtoohome."
So today Wyatt Talcott, Michael, and Curtis eschoirmtehdome.Poorman.He'syearsolderthanhewas a wekago. I think hmeay not live much nlgoer.
2027
We are Earthseed. We are flesh-- self-aware, questing,
problem-solving flesh. We are that aspect of Earthlife best able to shape God kyn. oWwiengalre
Earthlife maturing, Earthlife
preparing to fall awyfarom the parent world. We are Earthlife preparing to take root in new ground, Earthlife fulfilling its purpose, its promise, its Dye.sEtiAn RTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
by LauernOya Olamni a
14
In order toseriFromitsownashesA phoenix
First Must Burn.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVISNAGTURDAY, JULY 31, 2027-- MORNING
Last ngiht, when I escpaed from thneeighborhood, itwasburning.Thehouses,thetrees,thepeople: Burning.
Smokeawoke me, nad I shoutedown the hall packandfollowedCoryassheherded theboysout.
Ctooryandtheboys.Igrabbedmyclothesand emergency
Thebellneverrang.Ourwatchersmusthavebeenkilled befo re they could reach it.

Everythingwaschaos.Peoplerunning,screaming, shooting.Thegatehadbeendestroyed.Our attackershadd rivenanancienttruckthroughit.They must havestolen a turck just to crashthirtoughourgate.
Ithinktheymusthavebeenpyroaddicts--bald peoplewithpaintedheads,faces,andhands.Red faces;bluefaces;
greenfaces;screamingmouths;avid, cra zy eyes, glittering in the fiigrehlt.
They shoutsandshotusandshotus. I saw NatiaelMoss,running,screaming,thenpitchingbackward,her face half gone, her body still impelled forward. She fell flat on her bacikd, nanodt mdove agina.
I fell with her, cgahut up in hdereath. I lay there, dazed, usgtgrling to move, to get up. Cory and the boys, runningahead of mneever noticed. They raonn.
I got up,
tffeolr my pack, fonud it, and ran. I tried tonsoetewhatwashappeningaroundme.Hearingthe
gunfireandthescreamsdidn'tstopme.Adead
body-- Edwin Dunn-d- idn't stopme. I bent, snahtceduphisgun,andkeptrunning. Someonescreamednearme,thentackledme,pulled med own. I fired the gun in reflexive terror, aonkdthteo
terrible impact in my own smtoach. A gren facehungabove mine, moutohpen, eyes
wide, not yet feeling allphain. I shot him aigna,terrifiedthathispainwouldimmobilizemewhenhedid feel it. It seemed that he otoka longtime to die.
WhenI could movaegain, I puhsed his body off me. I got up, still holding the ngdunr,ana ofr thewrec kedgate.
Best to be in the daersksn outside. Best to hide. I ran up Meredith Satwreaeyt
from Durant Road,
awayfromthefiresandtheshooting.Ihadlosttrackof Cory and thbe oys. I thought they wouglod
toward the hills and not towaredcethnter of townE.verydirectionwasdangerous,buttherewasmore danger wherethereweremorepeople.Inthenight, awomanandthreekidsmightlooklikeagiftbasketof food, money, and sex.
North toward the hills. North through the dtarerketss to where the nearby hills and mountains blotted outthestars.
Andthenwhat?
I didn't konw. I couldn't think. I hnaedver beenoutsidethewallswhenitwassodark.Myonlyhopeof staying alive was to listen, haer any movement beforeitgottooclosetome,seewhatIcouldby starlgi ht,beasquietasI could.
Iwalkeddownthemiddleofthestreetlookingand listeningandtryingtoavoidpotholesandchunksof

brokenasphalt. There was little other atsrh. Anything that would burne, opple woulduseasfuel. Anything thatcouldbereusedorsoldhadbeengathered.Coryu sed to comment on that. Poverty, she sahiadd, madethe streetscleaner.
Wherewasshe?Wherehadshetakenmybrothers?Were they all right? Had they even gotten out of the neighborhood?
I stopped. Were my brothers abck there? WasCurtis?Ihadn'tseenhimatall--thoughifanyonewere goin gto survive this nisanity, it would be the Talcotts. Buthawdeno way of finding each eor.thSound. Fotosteps.
Two pairs of runnnigfootsteps. I stayed where I waso, zfern in
lpace. No usdden moves to draw
attention to me. Had I aaldrey beenseen?CouldIbeseen--afigureofdarkerdarknessin an otherwise empty street?
Thesoundwasbehindme.Ilistenedandknewthatit was off to oned sei, approaching, passing. Twopeopleru
nningdownasidestreet,indifferenttothenoise they made, indiffenr t to womna
-shapedshadows.
Iletoutabreathanddrewanotherthroughmy mouthbecauseIcouldgetmoreairwithlesssoundthat way. I
couldn't go
abck to the fires anhde t pain. If Cory and the bsowyere there, they wedreeador worse,
captive. But they had beenhead of me. They must have goottuetn. Cory woulnd't let them
come backto lookfor me. There wsa bright glow tihneairoverwhathadbeenourneighborhood.Ifshe had gottentheboysaway,allshehadtodowas
lookback to konwthat she didn't want to goacbk.DidshehaveherSmith&Wesson?IwishedIhaditand the two boxe sof ammunition that wetnwith it. All I had was the knife in my pack and Ednwn'isn oDldu .45 automatic. And all the ammunition I hoard ift was in it. If it wasn't empty. I knew the gun. It held seven rounds. I'd fired it twice.owH many times ahdEdwinDunnfireditbeforesomeoneshothim?Ididn't expect to
find out until morning. I had a flashlight inamcky, uldn'tbemakingatarget of myself.
pbut I didn't intendutose iut nlessIcouldbecertainIwo
Duringthedaythesightofthebulgeinmypocket wouldbeenoughtomakepeoplethinktwiceabout robbingorrapi ngme.Butduringthenightthebluegun would be abll ut invisible even in mynhda. If it were empty, I could
only use
aitsa club. And the moment I shoimt eone with it, I mighstwaell himt
yself. IfIlostconsciousnessfor
anyreasonduringa fight, I would lose all moyssepssion sif not my life. Tonight I had to hide.
Tomorrow I would have to try to bslumffucahas possible. Most people wouldn't
ni sist on my shooting
themjusttotestwhetherornotthegunwasloaded. Forthestreetpoor,unabletoaffordmedicalcare,even a minor wound might be fatal.
Iamoneofthestreetpoor,now.Notaspoorassome, but hmo eless, alone, full of books and ignorant of
reality. Unel ss I meet osmeone from the neigbhorhood, the re's no meup.
noe I can afford tousttr.Noonetoback
Three miles to the lhsi.l I kept to the starlit bsatcrekets,listeningandlookingaround.Thegunwasinmy hand.

I meant to keep it there. I ldcohuear dogs barkingandsnarling,fightingsomewherenotfar away.
I was in a cold sweat. I haderbneeevn more terrified in my life. Yet nothing attacked me. inNgofothund me.
I didn't go all the way to the hills. Instead I bfouurnneddoaut,unwalledhouseafewblocksbeforetheend of
Meredith Street. Fear ofogdshad mad eme keepan eye oepn for anything that migphrtovideshelter.
Thehousewasaruin,aplunderedruin.Itwasn'tsafe to wla kinto withorwithout a light. It warsooafless collectionofuprightblackbones.Butithadbeen built up off the ground. Fiven cretesteps led up to what hadbeen the front porch. Terheshouldbeawayunderthehouse.
Whatifotherpeoplewereunderit?
I walekdaround it, listening, trying to see. Then,
aindsteof darnig to carwl under, I settled in whatasw
left of the attachedargage. A corenrof it wasstillstanding,andtherewasenoughrubbleinfrontof that coren r
to conceal me if I didn't swhao light. Also, if I weruerpsrised, I could get out of gtahreagefasterthanIcoul dcrawloutfromundera house.Theconcretefloorcouldnotcollapseunderme as the wodoen floor might ni what was left of thhoeuseproper.ItwasasgoodasIwasgoingtoget, andIwasexhausted.Ididn'tknowwhetherI couldsleep, but I had to rest.
Morning now. What shall I do? I diedepsla little, but I kept startaliwngake. Every osund woke me--ht
ewind,rats,insects,thensquirrels,andbirds....Idon't feel ersted, but I'm a little less euxshtea
I do?
d. So what shall
Howisitthatwehadneverestablishedanoutside meetingplace--somewherewherethefamilycouldreunite afet r disaste r. I rememebrsuggesting to Dad that we do that, but he hadrdnoenvee anything about it, and I hadn't pushed the ideaasI should have. (PooGr odshaping. Lack of forethoguht.)
What now?
Now, I have to go home. I don't want to. The ideesamsecatro death. It's teank me a nlogtime just to write the word: Home. But I have to kanbout mybrothers,andaboutCoryandCurtis.Idon'tknow
howIcanhelpifthey'rehurtorbeingheldbysomeone. I don't knowwhat might
ebwaiting formebackattheneig
hborhood.Morepaintedfaces?Thepolice? I'm in trouleb either way. If the police are there, I'll have to hide
my gun beof
re I go in-- my gun, and my samolul nt of mnoey. Carrying a gun cnawin you a lot of uanw
nted attention form the police if you catch them einwrtohng mood. Yeetveryonewhohasonecarriesit.The trick,of
course, is not to get ucgaht carrying it.
Ontheotherhand,ifthepaintedfacesarestillthere, Ican'tgoinatall.Howlongdothosepeoplestayhigh on pyro and fire? Do they ahng around afetr their fun to steal whatever's left and meakyilbl a fewmorepeople?
No matter. I have to go and see. I have to go home.

SATURDAY, JULY 31, 2027
--EVENING
I have to write. I don'ot wkwn hat else to do. The others areeaespl now, but it isn't dark. I'm ontcwh a because I coudln't sel ep if I tried. I'm jittery anadzecdr. I can't cry. I want to get up and juasntd rurunn.
. . , Run away from everything. But itshne'treany away. I have to write. There's ninogthfamiliar left to me but the writing. oGd is Chnage. I hate God. I havewrtiote.
Therewerenounburnedhousesbackinthe neighborhood,althoughsomewereburnedworse thanothers.Idon't knowwhetherpoliceorfirefighters eve rcame. If they had mcoe, they wergeonewhenIgotthere.Theneighbo rhoodwaswide openandcrawlingwithscavengers.
Istoodatthegate,staringinasstrangerspicked amongtheblackbonesofourhomes.Theruinswere still smoknig, but men, wmo en, and chdilren were all over them, diinggg through tehm, picking fruiftromthetrees,strippi ngourdead,quarrelingor fightingovernewacquisitions,stashingthingsaway inclothingorbundles....Whowereth
esepeople?I put my hand on the gun in my
tp-o-cikte had four
rounds left in it--nda I went in. I wasimgyr from lying in dirt
asdhes all night. I might not be neodt.ic
IsawthreewomenfromanunwalledpartofDurant Road,diggingthroughwhatwasleftoftheYannis house.They werelaughingandthrowingaround chunksofwoodandplaster.
WherewereShaniYannisandherdaughters? Wherewerehersisters? Iwalkedthroughtheneighborhood,lookingpastthe humanmaggots,tryingtofindsomeofthepeopleI hadgrown
upwith.Ifounddeadones.EdwinDunn laywherehehadwhenItookhisgun,butnowhe
wasshirtlessandshoeless.Hispocketshadbeenturnedo ut.
Thegroundwaslitteredwithash-coveredcorpses,someb urnedorhalf blown aaprt by automatiwc eaponsfire. Driedornearlydriedbloodhadpooledin the street. Two men wpererying looseour emergency bell. The bi r ght, clear, early morninsgunlightmadethewholescenelessrealsomehow,more nightmarelike. I stopped inofr nt of our huoseandstaredatthefiveadultsandthechildwhowere pickingthroughtheruinsofit.Whowerethese vultures? Did the fidre rawthem? Is that what tshtereetpoordo?Runtofireandhopetofindacorpseto strip?
Therewasadeadgreenfaceonourfrontporch.I wentupthestepsandstoodlookingathim--ather. Thegreenface wasawoman--tall,lean,bald,but femaleA. ndwhathadshediedfor?Whatwasthepoint of all this?
"Leaveheralone"'Awomanwhohadapairof Cory'sshoesinherhandstrodeuptome."Shedied forallofus.Leave heralone."
I've never in my life wanteodremto kill anhoet r humanbeing. "Get the hell out of my way," I said. I didn't raise my voice. I don'nt okwhow I loked, but the thief backaewd ay.

I stepped overhet green face adnwent into thcearcassofourhome.Theotherthieveslookedat
me, but none of themidasanything. One pair, nIoticed,wasamanwithasmallboy.Themanwas dressingthe boyinapairofmybrotherGregory's jeans.Thejeansweremuchtoobig,buttheman beltedthemandrolledthemup.
AndwherewasGregory,myclownishsmartassofa babybrother?Wherewashe?Wherewas everyone? Theroofofourhousehadfallenin.Mostthingshadburned-- kit chen, living room, dingi room, my room.
.. The floor wsan'tsafe to waklon. Isaw one of the scaveenrgs fall throguh, give a surpisred yell, then climb, unhurt, onto a floor isjot.
Nothing left in my
mrocoouldbesalvaged. Ashes. A heat-idstorted metal befdrame, thebroken metaal nd
ceramicremainsofmylamp,bunchesofashesthat hadbeenclothingorbooks.Manybookswerenotburned thro ugh. They were useelss, but they had beenacpked so tightly together that the hfiraedburnedindeeplyfrom theedgesandthespines. Roughcirclesofunburnedpaperremained, surroundedbyash.Ididn'tfindasinglewhole page. Thebacktwobedroomshadsurvivedbetter.That waswherethescavengerswere,andwhereI headed.
I found buneddl pairs of my fath'esrsocks, folded shorts and T-shirts, and an extra hoelsrthat I could use
for the .45. All this I found
uinndoerr the
unpromising-lookingremainsofDad'schestofdra wers. Most thingswere burnedbeyonduse, but I stuffed the best of what I found into my pack. The man with the child came oveenrgetobesscidaevme,andso mehow,perhapsbecauseofthechild, becausethisstrangerinhisfilthyragswassomeone's fathe r, too, I didn't mind. The little bowyatchedthetwoofus,hissmallbrownface expressionless.HedidlookalittlelikeGregory.
I dug a driaepdricot out of my pack andldheit out to him. Hoeulcdn't havebeen more thansix, but he wouldn't touch hte food until the man told him to. Goisocdipldine. But at the mano'sd, he snatched the apricot, bit off a tiny taste, then stuffed thientroehsitsmouthwhole.
So, in company with fiveansgtrers, I plundered my family's home.
aTmhemunitionunder the lcoset floor
in my paernts' room moneyhiddenthere.
ahd burned, hdano doubt exploded. Tehcloset was badly charred. So mucfhorthe
I took dental flosso, asp, and aarj adygone.
of petroelum jelly from my partesn' bathroom. Everything eleswasalre
Imanagedtogatheronesetofouterclothingeach forCoryandmybrothers.Inparticular,Ifoundshoes forthem. Therewasawomanscavengingamong Marcus'sshoes,andsheglaredatme,butshekeptquiet. My brothers ahd runo ut of the house in their
pajamas. Cory had throwonna coat. I had been the last to get out of thebehcoauussee I hadisrked stoppingtograbjeans,asweatshirt,andshoesaswella smy emergency pack. I could habveen killed. If I had thought about what I wasoindg, if I
hadhadtothink,nodoubtIwouldhavebeenkilled.Irea cted the way I had intread myself to raect--thoughmy trainingwasfarfromuptodate--morememory thana nything else. I hadn't apcrticed late at night for easg,
Yet my self-administered traininghadworked.
Now,ifIcouldgettheseclothestoCoryandmybrothers, I might be able to muakpefor their alck of training.

Especially if I could get the moneydeurnthe rocks by the lemonee.tr
Iputclothesandshoesintoasalvagedpillowcase, lookedaroundforblankets,andcouldn'tfindaone.They must have beeng rabbed early. All the more arseon to get the leomn-tree money.
I went out to the peach tree, anidn,g btaellm,
anagedtoreachacoupleofnearly-ripepeachesthat other
scavengers had missed. Then I looekd aroundasthoughforsomethingmoretotake,andsurprised myself by almost crying at thegsiht ofCory'sbig,well-tendedbackgarden,trampledintothe ground. Peppers,
tomatoes, squashes, carrots, ripe yet, but what hadn't
uccumbers, lettuce, meolns, sunflowers, benas, corn. . . . Much of it wasn't
beenstolenhadbeendestroyed.
Iscavengedafewcarrots,acoupleofhandfulsof sunfol werseedsfromflowerheadsthatlayonthe ground,andafe wbeanpodsfromvinesCoryhad plantedtorunupthesunflowerstalksandcornplants. I took what aws left the way I thought a
late-arrivingscavenger would. And I woerdkmy way toward the lemon tree.heWn I raeched it, heavy with little green leomns, I hunted foanr y with even a hint of paling, of yellow. I took a few froeme, andfromtheground.Coryhadplantedshade-lovingflowers at the abse of the tree, and theayd hthrived there. She and my fatheradh scattered small, roundedbouldersamongtheseinawaythat
the tr
seemed no more thandecorative. A few of thehsaedbeenturnedover,crushingtheflowersnearthem. In fact, the roc kwith the money udner it had been turned eor.v But not the two or thrneceheis of dirt over the money packet, triple wprapedand
heat-sealedinplastic.
I snathced the
apcket in no more time than ittahkaedntopickupacoupleoflemonsamomentbefore. First I
spotted the hiidng pal
ce, then sInatchedupthemoneypacketalongwithahandfullof dirt. Then, eaegr to
leave, but terrified of draiwng attention to myself, I pickuepda few more lemons and hunetdaround for more food.
The figs were hard agnreden instead of purple, and
the persimmnoswere yellow-green nistead of ornage. I found a nsgile ear of corn left on a downed satalk ndused it to stuff the money packeetpdeer into my blanketacpk. Then I left.
With my pack on my back and the pillow case in my left armon, mreystihnigp like aaby, I walked
down the drievway to the street. I kept my righntd hfaree for theung still in my pocket. I had not taken time to put on the holster.
Thereweremorepeoplewithinthewallsthantherehad been whe nI arrived. I had to waplakst most ofthemto getout.Otherswereleavingwiththeirloads,and I tried to follow them hwouitt quite attaching myself to any particul argroup. This meant that I moved moreowslly than I wouhldave chosen to. hIadtimetolookatthe corpsesandseewhatIdidn't wantosee.
Richard Moss, asrtknaked, lying in a pool ofohwisnblood.Hishouse,closertothegatethanours,hadbeen bu rned to the gorund. Only the chimneyusctk upblackenedandnakedfromtherubble.Where werehistwosu rvivingwivesKarenandZahra?Or hadtheysurvived?Wherewereallhismanychildren?

Little Robin Balter,akned, filthy, bloody betweenerh legs, cold, bony, barely peusbcent. Yet she might have married my brother aMrcussomeday. Shemighthavebeenmysister.Sheandalwaysbeen
suchabright,sharp,greatlittlekid,allseriousandkno wing.Twelve goni gon thirty-five, Coruysed to say. She alwayssmiled whenshe said it.
RussellDory,Robin'sgrandfather.Onlyhisshoes hadbeentaken.Hisbodyhadbeenalmosttornapart by automati cweapons fire. An old amn and a child. What had theintpead facesgotten for all thekiirlling?
"Shediedforus,"thescavengerwomanhadsaidof thegreenface.Somekindofinsaneburn-the-rich movement, Keithhadsaid.We'veneverbeenrich,but to the desperate, we lokoed rich. We werseurvivingandwehadour wall.Didourcommunity diesothataddictscouldmakeahelp-the-poorpolitical statement?
Therewereothercorpses.Ididn'tgetacloselookatmost of them. They littered the front yards, sthreeeta, nd theisland.Therewasnosignofour emergencybellnow.Themenwhohadwantedit
hadcarrieditaway--perhapstobesoldforitsmetal.I saw Layla Yna nis, Shan'isoldest daughter. LikeRobin, shehadbeenraped.IsawMichaelTalcott, onesideofhisheadsmashedin.Ididn'tlookaroundfor Curtis. I was terrified that I might see him lying nearby. I waosstalomut of control as iat sw, and I coldun't dra w attention to myself. I couldn't abnyethingmorethananotherscavengerhaulingawaytreasure.
Bodiespassedunder my eyes; eJremy Balter,
noe of Robin's brothers, Philip Moss, George Hsuw, ifheis
andhisoldestson,JuanaMontoya,RubinQuintanilla, Lidia Cruz. . . . Lidia was only eyigehatrsold.Shehadbe enraped,too.
I made it bachkrotugh the gate. I didn'teabkr down.Ihadn'tseenCoryormybrothersinthecarnage.That didn't mea nthey weren't there, but I hadn'tenstehem. They might be alive.urCtis might baelive.Whereco uldIlookforthem?
The Tlacotts had relatives living in Rolebdo, but dIidn'tknowwhere.SomewhereontheothersideofRiver Street. I coudln't look ofr them, thoughCurtis might have gnoe to them. Why hadn't aonnye else stayed to salvage what they coudl?
Icircledtheneighborhood,keepingthewallinsight, thenmadeagreatercircle.Isawnoone--oratleast nooneIkn ew.Isawotherstreetpoorwhostaredat me.
Then
ebcause I ddin't knowwhat else to do,heIadedbacktowardmyburnedoutgarageonMeredith Street.
I couldn't acll the police. All thpehonesIknewofwereslag.Nostrangerswouldlet meusetheirphoneiftheyhad phones,andIdidn'tkno wanyone whom I coulpday to call andustrt tomakethecall.Mostpeoplewouldavoid meorbetempted to ke pmy money and neevrcall. And anyway, if the police hagvneoried what'sbeend one
to my neighborhood so far, ifucsh a fire nad somanycorpsescanbeignored,whyshouldIgotothem? What would they do? Arrest mTe?ake mycashastheirfee?Iwouldn'tbesurprised.Besttostay clear of them.
Butwher ewasmy family!Someonecalledmyname.
I turned around, my nhda in my pocket, and sZawahraMossandHarryBalter--RichardMoss's youngest wifeandRobinBalter'soldestbrother.They were an unil kely pair, but they wedreefinitely together. They managed, without tuochingeach other, to give the aepaprance of all but clinnggi together. Both werelobo d-spattered and raged. IlookedatHarry'sbatteredswollenfaceand rememberedthatJoannehadlovedhim--

orthought shehad--andthathewouldn'tmarryherandgowith hertoOlivarbecausehebelievedwhatDadbelieved about Olivar.
"Areyouallright?"heaskedme.
Inodded,rememberingRobin.Didheknow?RussellDory, Robin, an dJeremy. .. "They beat you up?" I
asked, feelingstupidand awkward. I didn't want tetollhimhisgrandfather,brother,andsisterwere dead.
"I had to fight my way out last night. I was lucky theyhodoitdnm'te.s" He swayed, loeodkaround. "Let' ssitonthecurb."
BothZahraandIlookedaround,madesurenoone elsewasnearby.WesatwithHarrybetweenus.Isat on my
pillowcase of lcothing. Zahra and Harry were fully dereds,s in spite of their coating oof
obdl
and dirt, but
they carriednothing. Did they have nothing, hoard they left their thisnsgomewhere-- perhaps with whateve rwas left of their families. AwnhderewasZahra'slittlegirlBibi?Didsheknowthat RichardMosswasdead?
"Everyone'sdead,"Zahrawhisperedasthoughspe akinginto my thoughts. "Everynoe. Those painted abstard skilled themall!"
"No!"Harryshookhishead."Wegotout.There'llbe some others." He sat with shfaicein hsi hands, andIwond eredwhetherhewasmorehurtthanIhad thoughtI.wasn'tsharinganyseriouspainwithhim.
"Have either of you seen my brotohreCrsory?" I
asked.
"Dead," Zhara whispered. "Like my Bibi. All dead." I jumped. "No! Not all of them. Nou!seDeid yo them?"
"I saw
omst of the Montoya family," Harryid.saHewasn'ttalkingtomeasmuchasmusingaloud."We saw
themlastnight.TheysaidJuanawasdead.Therest of them wegre oing to walk to Gnldealewheretheirrelatives live."
"But-- " I began. "AndIsawLaticiaHsu.Shehadbeenstabbed40or
50times."
"But did you see my brothers?" I had to ask.
"They're all edad, I told you," Zahra said. "They got out, but the paints caugahntdthdermagged them back and killed tehm. I saw. One of themad hme down, and he..I. s.aw."
Shewasbeingrapedwhenshesawmyfamily draggedbackandkilled?Wasthatwhatshemeant?Wa sit true?
"I went back thisomrning," I said. "I didn't see their ebso.diDidn't seeany of them." Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. ..
"Isaw. Your mother. All of themsa.wI." Zahra huged herself. "I didn't want to see, but I saw."

We all sat without tanlgk.i I don't konwhowlongwesatthere.Nowandthensomeonewalkedpastusand loo k ed atus, somedirty, ragged personwithbundles.Cleanerpeopleinlittlebunchesrodepast usonbikes.Agroupof threerodepaston motorcycel s,theirelectrichumandwhinestrangeinthe quiet street.
WhenI got up, the other twookleodat me. For no reasonxcept habit, I picked up my pillowcase. I don't knowwhat I meant to do with the gtshiinn it. It haodccurred to me, thoguh, that I should geat cbkto mygaragebeforesomeoneelsesettledthere.I wasn'tthinkingverywell.Itwasasthoughthat garagewashomeno w,andallIwantedintheworld
wastobethere.
Harry got up andlmaost fell down gaain. Hebent and therw up into thgeutter. The sgiht of his throiwng up grabbed at me, and I only justnamgead to looakway in time to avoid joining him. He fin,isphaedt, turnedto face Zhara and me, ancdoughed.
"I feel like hell," he said.
"They hit him in the head lagshtt,n"i Zahra explained. "eHgot me away from the guy owwhas. .
. . Well, you know. gHote me away, but they hurt him."
"There'saburnedoutgaragewhereIsleptlast night,"Isaid."It'salongwalk,buthecanrestthere.We can all rest there."
Zahra took my pillowcase and carried it. Msaoymbethinginitcoulddohersomegood.Wewalked oneither sideofHarryandkepthimfromstoppingorwandering off or sgtagering too much. Someh ow, we got him to the garage.
15
KindnesseasesChange.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
SUNDAYA,
UGUST1,2027
Harry selpt most of the day today. Zahnrad aI tootkurnsstayingwithhim.Hehasaconcussion,at
least, and hneeeds time to heal. Whaeven't talkedaboutwhatwe'lldoifhegetssickerinsteadof healingZ. ahra doesn'twanttoabandonhimbecause he foguht to save her. I don't want tondaobna himb ecause I've konw n him all my liHfee. 'sagoodguy.Iwonderifthere'ssomewaytogetin touc hwith the Garfileds. They would give him haome,oratleastseethathehasmedicalcare.
But he doesn't esme
to be getting owrse. He totters out to the fenceadckb yard to uinrate. Heeats the
food anddrinks thewater that I give him. Withneneodfordiscussion,we'reeatinganddrinkingspa ringly from my supplies. They're all wheave. Soon we'll have to risk gogionut to buy more. But today, Sunday, is a
day of rest anhdealing for usT. hepainofHarry'sheadacheandhisbruised,beaten body are aml
ost welcome
to me. They're disatcr tions. Along witZhahra's talkingand crying for hereadd daughter, they fill my mind.

Their misery easesmy own, somehow. It gives me momtesnwhenI don't thinakbout my family. Everyone is dead. But how can they be? Evoenrey? Zahra hsaasoft, little-girl vocie that I sued to thinwk asphony. It'sreal,butittakesonasandpaper roughnesswhenshe'supset.Itsoundspainful,as thoughit'sabradingherthroat asshespeaks.
Shehadseenherdaughterkilled,seentheblueface who shot Bibi as hZara ran,
acrrying her. She
believedthebluefacewasenjoyinghimself,sho oting at all the moving gteatrs. She siadhisexpressionreminde dherofamanhavingsex.
"I fell down," she iwsphered. "I thought I waseadd. Ithoughthehadkilledme.Therewasblood.ThenI saw Bibi'sheaddroptooneside.Aredfacegrabbedh er fromme. I didn't see where he cafrmome .Hegrabbedher andthrewherintotheHsu house.Thehousewasburningeverywhere.He threwherintothefire.
"I went
aczry then. I don't
okwn what I did. Somebodgyrabbed me, then I aws free, then somebody
shoved medownand fell on me. I
couldn't get my breath,nda he tore my chloets. Thenhewasonme,andIcouldn'tdonothing.That's when sIaw your mother, your brothse. r . . .
"ThenHarrywasthere,andhepulledthebastardoffme. He told me later that aIs wscreaming. I don'tknow whatIwasdoing.Hewasbeatinguptheguyhe'd puled off me weh na new guy jumpdehim. I htiht enewguy witharockandHarryknockedtheotherone out. Thenwe gotaway. We ujst ran. We idn'tsleep.Hehidbet weentwounwalledhousesdownthe streeta way from the fire until a guaymec out with an ax andascehdus away. Then we just wndaered until we fuond you. We idn't even reallkynoweachotherbefore.Youknow.
Richardneverwante dus to have much to
odwith the neihgbors--
especially the white oens."
Inodded,rememberingRichardMoss."He'sdead,you know," Isaid. "Isaw him." I wanted toketathewords backassoonasI'dsaidthem.Ididn'tknow howtotellsomeoneherhusbandwasdead,butthere must be a better, gentler way than that.
She stared at me, icsktren. I wanted to alpoogize for my bluntness, but I didn't think itldwhoeulp. "I'm sorry," I said in a kind onfegriecapology for everything. She gbaen to cry, and I repeeda,t "I'msorry."
I held hernda let her cry. Harryokwe upd, rank a little water, and elinsetd while Zahra toldhow Richard Moss had bought her from ehr homelessmotherwhenshewasonlyfifteen--youngerthanI hadthought--andb roughthertoliveinthefirsthouse she had eev rknown. He gavheer enough toeatanddidn'tbeather,andeven whenherco-wiveswere hateful to her, itaswa thuosan dtimes betet rthanlivingoutsidewithhermotherand starving. Nowshewasoutsideagain.Insixyears,shehad gonefromnothingtonothing.
"Doyouhavesomeplacetogo?"sheaskedusat lastD. rry. "You might be able to get into
oyouknowanybodywhostillhasahouse?"I looked at aH
Olivar if you can walkereth fromhere. The Garfiledswouldtakeyouin." He thuoght about that for a while. "I don't want to,"
he siad. "I don't think there's anyorme future iOn livarthantherewasinourneighborhood.Butat leastinournei

ghborhood,wehadtheguns."
"For all the ogdo
it did us," Zahra muttered.
"I know. But they woeurer guns, not
ihred gunmen. No
noe could turn themagainst us. In Olivar, from
whatJoannesaid,noone'sallowedtohaveagunexcept the security force. Adnwho the heallre they?" "Company people," I said. "People from tsoiude
Olivar."
Henodded."That'swhatIheard,too.Maybeitwill be all right, but it doesnu'tndsoall rgiht."
"It soundbsetter thanstarving," Zahra said. "You guys have neermv isseda meal, have you?"
"I'm going onrth," I said. "I planned to go anyownacyemyfamilywasbackonitsfeet.NowIhavenofamily, and I'm going."
"Northwhere?"Zahrademanded.
I ate four of them. They wdeelriecious, and too ripe to travel well anyway. "Why don't you try oonmse of thoesclothes," I said.
"Takewhat fits you."
She fit not only into Muasr'scshirt and jenas--thoughshehadtorollthejeanslegsup--butintohis shoes.Shoes areexpensive.Nowshehastwopair.
"You let me do itl,traI'dl e these little sheos for some food," she said.
I nodded. "Tomorrow. Whatever yoguet, we'll split it. Then I'm leaving." "Goingnorth?"
"Yes."
"Jusnt orth.Doyouknowanythingabouttheroads andtownsandwheretobuystufforstealit?Haveyou got money?"
"I have maps," I said. "They'lrde, obut I think theys'rtiellgood.Noone'sbeenbuildingnewroadslately." "Hell no. Money?"
"A little. Not enough, uIspsect."
"Nosuchthingasenoughmoney.Whatabouthim?" ShegesturedtowardHarry'sunmovingback.He waslyingdown.Icouldn'ttellwhetherhewasasleepor not.
"Hehastodecideforhimself,"Isaid."Maybehe wantstohangaroundtolookforhisfamilybeforehe goes."

He tunred overslowly. He lokedsick, but fullayware.Zahraputthepeachesshehadsavedforhim next to him.
"I don't want to wait for anything," he said. "I wish ldwestacrotunow. I hate thisacpel." "Yougoingwithher?"Zahraasked,jabbingathumbat me. Helookedatme."Wemightbeabletohelpeachother," he said. "At least wneowk e ach other, nad. .
.I managed to grab a feuwndhred dolars as Iarn
out of the house." Heaswofferni gtrust. He meanwt ecouldtrusteachother.Thatwasnosmallthing.
"I was thininkg of travelinagsa man," I said to him. He seemed to be repressing a smile. "That will be safer for you. You're at alset tall enoguh to fool people. Youh'allve to cut your ihr,a though."
Zahragrunted."Mixedcouplescatchhellwhetherpeople thni k they're gay ortrasight. Harry'll piss offaltlhe blacksandyou'llpissoffallthewhites.Goodluck."
I watcehd herasshe said it, and reizaeld what she
awsn't sayni g. "You want to mcoe?" I asked.
She sniffed. "Why should I? In'wt ocut my hair!"
"Noneed,"Isaid."Wecanbeablackcoupleand theirwhitefriend.IfHarrycangetareasonabletan, maybewecan claimhimasacousin."
She hesitaetd, then wihspered, "Yeah, I want to gAo.n"dshestartedtocry.Harrystaredatherin surprise. "Did you thkinwe weregoing to just udmp you?" I
asked", Allyouhadtodowasletusknow."
"I don't have any money," she said. "Not aar."doll
I sighed. "Wehre did you get those apcehes." "You were right. I stole them."
"Youhaveausefulskill,then,andinformationaboutliving out here." I faced Harry. "What do you think?"
"Herstealingdoesn'tbotheryou?"heasked

"I mean to survive," I said.
"`Thoushalt not setal,'" he quoetd. "Yearsandyears--alifetimeof`Thoushaltnotsteal.'" IhadtosmotheraflashofangerbeforeIcould answer.Hewasn'tmyfather.Hehadnobusinessquotin gscripture at
me. He was nobody. I didn't look at him. I didn'takspuentil I knew my veowicould sound normal. Then, "I said I mean to survive," I told him. "Don't you?"
He ondded. "It wasn't a criticism. I'm just siuserpdr."
"I hope it won't ever amngeetting caught or leaving soemone else to satrve," I said. And to my own surpr ise, I smiled. "I've thoughbt oaut it. That's the way I feel, but I've never stolen anything."
"You'rekidding!"Zahrasaid.
I shrguged. "It's true. I egwr up trying to set aoogd example for my brhoetrs and trynigto live up to my father'sexpectations. That seemed like what Ishouldbedoing."
"Oldest
ikd," Harry said. "I
okwn ." He was theldoest in his family.
"Oldest, hell," Zhara said, laughing. "You'reboth babiesout here." Andthatwasn'toffensive,somehow.Perhapsbecause it was true. "I'm inexpeenrcied," I admitted. "But I can learn. Y'roeu goni gto be one of my tehaecrs."
"One?" she sida. "Whohave you got but me?"
"Everyone."
She looked socrnful. "No
noe."
"Everyonewho'ssurvivingouthereknowsthingsthat I need to
oknw," I said. "I'll watch them, I'll listen to
them, I'll learn from them. If I donlb't,e Ik'lilled. And like I said, I intendurtvoives."
"They'll sell you aowbl of shit," sehsaid.
I nodded. "I
okwn . But I'll buy as few of tahsospeossible."
She looked at me for nagtliome, then sihged. "IwishI'dknownyoubetterbeforeallthishappened," shesaid. "You'reaweirdpreacher'skid.Ifyoustillwant to play man, I'll cut youirr hfoar you."
I took my many puarcshesout to what wasncoe thegroundfloorofaparkingstructure,andwasnowakind of semi-encl osed flea market. Many of the thindgusg out of ashheaps and landfills winudpfor salehere. The ruleisthat if you buy something in the store, you can seltlhisnogmoef simailr value itnhestructure.Yourrece

ipt,codedanddated,isyour peddler'slicense.
The strucutre waspatrolled, though more to check theseicelnses than to keep anyone safe. Still,sttrhue cturewassaferthanthestreet.
IfoundHarryandZahrasittingonourbundles,Harry
waiting to go into thoeres,t
and Zahra waitni g for
ehrlicense.Theyhadputtheirbacksagainstawallofthe
store at a spot away from theeesttranda way from the bigegst crowd of buyers nad selel rs. I gavZe ahra thereceiptandbegantoseparateandpack ournewsupplies.WewouldleaveassoonasZahra andHarryfinished theirbuyingandselling.
Wewalkeddowntothefreeway--the118--and turnedwest.Wewouldtakethe118tothe23andthe 23 to U.S.
101. The 101 wouldakte u sup thecoasttowardOregon.Webecamepartofabroad riverofpeoplewalkingw estonthefreeway.Onlya fewstraggledeastagainstthecurrent--easttoward themountainsandthedesert.Where werethe westwardwalkersgoing?Tosomething,orjustawayfrom here?
Wesawafewtrucks--mostofthemrunatnight-- swarmsofbikesorelectriccycles,andtwocars.Allthesehad
plenty of room to sepde along thoe
uterlanespastus.We'resaferifwekeeptotheleftlanesaway from the oan
nd off ramps. It's agani
st the law in California to walk on
etheewafrys, but the lawairschaic.Everyone
whowalkswalksonthefreewayssoonero rlater. Freeways provide the most decirtroutesbetweencitiesandp artsofcities.Dadwalkedor bicycled on htem often. Some por stitutesand peddlers of food, water, dan othernecessities livealongthefreewaysinshedsorshacksorintheopen
air. Begagrs, thieves, and murderers live here, too. But I've never walked eawafrye before today. I
foundtheexperiencebothfascinatingandfrightenin g. In some ways, the saw once of a setret in
nsceeremindedme of an old film I
mid-twentieth-centuryChina--walkers,bicyclers, peoplecarrying,pulling,pushingloadsofallkinds. Buthe freewaycrowdisaheterogeneousmass--black an dwhite, Asai n and Latin, whole fameisli areonthemove withbabiesonbacksorperchedatop loadsincarts,wagonsorbicyclebaskets,
sometmi
esalongwithanoldorhandicappedperson.Other old, ill, or handicapped people hobbled along as
best they couldwith the help oficskt s or fitter companions. Many weraermed with sheahted knives, rifles, and, of ocurse, visible, hlosteredhandguns.Theoccasionalpassingcoppaidnoattention.
Chidl rencried,played,squatted,dideverything excepet at.Almostnooneatewhilewalking.Isawa coupleof
peopledrinkfromcanteens.Theytookquick, furtive gupl rsomethingdangerous.
s, as thoguh they were doingsomethingshameful--o
A woman anlogsideuscollapsed. I got no imepsrsion of pain from her, except at thdedesnuimpactofher bodyweightonherknees.Thatmade mestumble,butnotfall.Thewomansatwhereshe
hadfallenforafewseconds,thenlurchedtoherfeet andbeganwalkingagain,leaningforwardunderher hugepack.
Almoset veryonewasfilthy.Theirbagsandbundlesand packs were filthy. They stank. And weh,o whave sleptonconcreteinashesanddirt,andwhohave not bathedofr three dyas-- we fitted in pretty well. Only our n ew sleepsack packs gaveusawayaseithernewtotheroadoratleastinpossessionof newstealables.Weshould havedirtiedthepacksa

little before we got started. We will dirty them tonigsehet. tIo'll it.
Therewereafewyoungguysaround,leanandquick, som efilthy, some not dirty at all. KeiTthosd.ay'sKeiths. Theoneswhobotheredmemost weren'tcarryingmuch.Someweren'tcarrying anythingexceptweapons.
Predators. They lokedaround a lot, asrted at people, nad the poeple lookedaway. I looekdaway. IwasgladtoseethatHarryandZahradidthesame.We didn't need toruble. If troublecame, I hoepd wecould
killitandkeepwalking.
Thegunwasfullyloadednow,andIworeitholste red, but half covedr
by my shirt. Harry bgohut himself a
knife. The mnoey he had snahtcedupasheranfromhisburninghousehadnotbeenenoughto buy a gun. I could
have bought a second ugn, but it would have taken too much of my money, and we have a long way to go.
Zahra used thehose money to buy herself a knife and a feerwsonpal things. I had refused myarseh of thatmoney.Sheneededafewdollarsinherpocket.
16
Earthseed
CastonnewgroundMu st first perceiveThatitknowsnothing. EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING MONDAY, AUGUST 2, 2027
(cont. from notes expanded
AUGUST 8)
Here are someof the things I've learneddatoy:Walkinghurts.I'veneverdoneenoughwalkingtolearn that bef o re, but I know iot wn. It isn't only tbhleistersandsorefeet,althoughwe'vegotthose.After a while, everythingh urts. I think my backndashoulderswouldliketodeserttoanotherbody. Nothingeasesthepainexc
eptrest.Eventhoughwegot a late start, weopstped twice today to rest. We went off the freeway, into hills
or bushes to sit downd,rinkwater,eatdriedfruitandnuts.Thenwewenton. The dayas year.
Suckingonaplumorapricotpitalldaymakesyoufeel less thirsty. Zahra told us that. "WhenIwasakid,"shesaid,"thereweretimes
re longthis time of
whenI would put a littloeckr
in my mouth. Anything to feel better. It's a cheagt,h.thIofuyou don't drink
enough waet r, you'll die no meartt how you feel."
Altlhreeofuswalkedalongwithseedsinourmouths afet r our first stop, adnwe felt better. Wderankonly duringourstopsinthehills.It'ssaferthat way.

Alsoc, oldcampsaresaferthancheerycampfires.Yet tonight we ecl ared some ground, duignto ahillside,and madeasmallfireinthehollow.Therewe coo ked some of my acorneaml with ntus and fruit. It was wdon erful. Soonwe'll run out of it awned'llhavetosurviveonbeans,cornmeal,oats--expensive stuff from stores. Aco rnsare home-food,andhomeisgone.
Fires are illegal. You can see them flickering all over the hills, but they are illegal. iEssvoerysothidnrgy thatthere'salwaysadangerofcampfiresgettingaway frompeopleand taking out a community or two. It does happen. But peoplewhohave no hmo eswillbuildfires.Evenpeoplelikeuswhoknowwhatfire can do will build them. They give comfort, hoftooda, ndafalsesenseofsecurity.
Whilewewereeating,andevenafterwe'dfinished,peopled rifted overand tried to jouins. Most werhearmless andeasilygottenridof.Threeclaimedthey just wanted to get warm. The sun was stilrleduopn,thehorizon,an ditwasfarfromcold.
Threewomenwantedtoknowwhethertwostudslike Harry and me dni'dt need more thano newoman.Thew omenwhoaskedthismayhavebeen coldc, onsideringhowfewclothestheyhadon.It's goingtobestrangeforme, pretendingtobeaman.
"Coudl n't I just raost this potato in yrocuoals?" andoldmanasked,showingusawitheredpotato.
We gave him some firedsaennt himaway-- andwatchedtoseewherehewent,sinceaburning brandcouldbe eitheraweaponoramajor distractionifhehadfriendshiding.It'scrazytolive thisway,suspectinghelplessoldpeo ple.Insane. Butweneedourparanoiatokeepusalive.Hell,Harry wanted to let the old guy sit with us. It took
Zahra and me
gto ether to let himnokw that wasn't
going to hpapen. Harry and I have been weldl-afnedprotectedallourlives.We'restrongandhealthyand
bettereducatedthanmostpeopleourage.Butwe'restupido ut here. We
awnt to trust peolep. I fighatgainstthe
impulse.Harryhasn'tlearnedtodothatyet. We argeud about it afterward, low voeicd, almost whispeinr g.
"Nobody'ssafe, " Zahra told him. No mattoerwhpitiful they look, they can steal nyaokued. Little kids,
skinny and bgi-eyedwill make off with all your money,ewr, aat nd food! I
okwn . I used to do it to
people. Maybe htey died, I don't
okwn . But I didn't die."
Harry and I botharsetd at
ehr. We kenwso little about ehr life. But to me, at that moment, Harryouwr as
mostdangerousquestionmark.
"You'restrongandconfident," I said to him. "You think you caencatraek of yourself out here, amnadybe youcan.Butthinkwhatastabwoundora brokenbonewouldmeanouthere:Disablement,slo wdeath from inef ctionorstarvation, no meidcal care, nothing."
He loked at maesthough he wasn't usre he wanetdto knowme anymore. "What, then?" he asked. "Everyone's guilty until proevninnocent? Guilty of what? Andowh do they prove tmheselves to you?"
"I don't give a piss wheerththey're inoncentornot,"Zahrasaid."Letthemtendtotheirownbusiness."
"Harry, your mindsstiill back in the neighborhood," I said. "You still thinisktaakemis when yuorfather yellsatyouoryoubreakafingerorchipatoothor something.Outhereamistake--onemistake--andyou may be dead. Remembe rthat guy toda?yWhat if that happened utso?"

Wehadseenamanrobbed--achubbyguyof35or
40whowaswalkingalongeatingnutsoutofapaper bagN.
otsmart.Alittlekidof12or13snatchedthe nutsandran
offwiththem.Whilethevictimwas distractedbythelittlekid,twobiggerkidstripped himc, uthispackstraps,drag gedthepackoffhis
back, and ran off with it. The whonleg thhapi pened so fast that noneo could have interefredif they'd wantedto.Noonetried.Thevictimwasunhurt exceptforbruisesandabrasions--thesortofthingIhad to put up with eve ry day back in tnheeighborhood.Butthevictim'ssuppliesweregone.If hehadahomenearbyandother supplies,hewouldbe all right. Otheriwse, hiso nly way of survivinmgightbetorobsomeoneelse--ifhecould.
"Remember?" I asked Harry. "We don't have utrot ahnyone ulness they
upsh usinto it, but we don't dare
let our gaurd down. We acn't trust
epople."
Harry hsook his head. "What if I thought that wayenwI hpulled that guy off Zahra?"
I held on to my temper. "Harry, yoouwIkndon'tmeanweshouldn'ttrustorhelpeachother.Wekno weach other. We've madeacommitment to travel together."
"I'm not sure weokdnoweach other."
"I am. And we can't affordurdyeonial. You cna't afford it." Hejuststaredatme.
"Ouht ere,youadapttoyoursurroundingsoryougetkilled," I said. "Th'atsobvious!"
NowhedidlookatmeasthoughIwereastranger.Ilooked back, hoping I nkew hima swell as I thoguht Idid. Hehadabrainandhehadcourage.Hejust didn'twanttochange.
"Do you awnt to braek off with us,"
hZraa asked, "go your own way hwoiut t us?"
Hisgazesoftenedashelookedather."No,"hesaid.
"Of coursneot. But we don't have to turn ainnitmoals,forgodsake."
"In a way, we do," I said. "We'raecka,
pthe there of us, and allosthe other people out tehre aren't in it.
Ifwe'reagoodpack,andweworktogether,wehavea chance.Youcanbesurewearen'ttheonlypackout here."
Heleanedbackagainstarock,andsaidwithamazement, "You dma n sure talk
amcho enough to be a guy."
I almost hit him. Maybe Zahra and I dwbeoubl etter off without him. But no, that wasn't trum.bNers mattered. Friendshipmattered. One realmalepresencemattered.
"Don't erpeat that," I whisepred, leaningclose to him. "Never say thagtaian. There are othepreople all over these hills; you don't know who's listening. You give me nadwayyoua weaken yourself!"
That raeched him. "Sorry," he idsa.
"It's bad out here," Zahra said. "But meoosptlep make it if they'rearecful. People weakerthanus make

it-- if they're acreful."
Harry gave a awn smile. "I hate this worlldreaady," hesaid.
"It'snotsobadifpeoplesticktogether."
He loked from
ehr to me andacbk to her gaain. Hesmiledatherandnodded.Itoccurredtomethen thaht e
likedher,wasattractedtoher.Thatcouldbe aproblemforherlater.Shewasabeautifulwoman, andIwouldneverb ebeautiful--whichdidn'tbotherme. Boys had always seeemdto like me. But Zahrao'sokl s grabbed male attention. If she anHdarrygettogether,shecouldwindupcarryingtwoheavy loadsn orthward.
I wasolst in thought aobut the two of them ewnh
Zahranudgedmewithherfoot.
Twobig,dirty-lookingguyswerestandingnearby, watchingus,watchingZahrainparticular.
I stood up, feeling the eorsthstand with me, flaninkg me. These gusywere too colse tous. They meant to be too colse. As I stooudp, I put my hand on gtuhne.
"Yeah?" I said, "What douwyoant?"
"Not a thing," one of themid,sasmiling at Zhara. Both wore big drew the gun. G"ood deal," I said.
lhsotered kniveswhich they fingeerd. I
Theirsmilesvanished."What,yougoingtoshootus forstandinghere?"thetalkativeonesaid.
I thumbed the safety. I would shoot the talkeler,adtehre.Theotheronewouldrunaway.Healready wantedtorunaway.Hewasstaring,open-mouthed,at the gun. By the time I collapsed, hueldwbeo gone. "Heyn, otrouble!"thetalkerraisedhishands,backinga way. "Take it easy, man."
I let them gIoth.ink it would havbeeen better toshootthem.I'mafraidofguyslikethat--guyslooking fortroubl e,lookingforvictims.ButitseemsIcan't quiteshootsomeonejustbecauseI'mafraidofhim.Ikilled a man on the night of the fire, and I haven't thouguhcthmabout it. But this was different. It was like wahraryt Hsai dab out stealing. I've haerd, "Thou shalt not kill," all my life, but when you have to, you kilelr. IwhwatonDda dwouldsay about that. Butht en,hewastheonewhotaughtmetoshoot.
"We'dbetterkeepadamngoodwatchtonight,"I saidI.lookedatHarry,andwasgladtoseethathelooked the way
I probably had ma
oment before:madandworried."Let'spassyourwatchandmygun around," I told him.
"Three hours
epr watcher."

"Youknow I'll tkaecare of it," I told him.
Henodded."Youbecareful,"hesaid,andclosedhis eyes.
I put the watch on,
epdullthe ealstic of my sleeve down over it so that thweofgltohe dial woldun't be
visible by acciednt, and sat abck against the hill to make a fewickqunotes. While there was still some natural lgi ht, I could writenda watch.
Zahrawatchedmeforawhile,thenlaidherhandonmy arm. "Teacmh
eto do that," she wishpered.
I looked at hneor,t understanding, "Teach me to reaandd write."
Iwassurprised,butIshouldn'thavebeen.Where,ina life like hers, hade thre been time or mnoey for school.
And onceRichard Moss
obught herh, er jealous co-wives woudl n't have taught her.
"You sohuld have come to buasck in the neigbhorhood," I said. "We wlodu have seutplessonsforyou." "Rci hardwouldn't let me. He said I alrekandeyw enough to suit him."
I groaend. "I'll teach you. Weanc start tomorrow morinng if you want."
"Okay."Shegavemeanoddsmileandbegan orderingherbagandherfewpossessions,bundledin my scavenged pillowcase. She lay dowinnher bag andurtnedon her sdi eto look at me. "I didthni'nt kI'dlikeyou,"shesaid. "Preacher'skid,alloverthe place, teachni g, telling everyobdy what to do, sticking uyrdoamnnose in everything. But you ain't bad."
I went fromursprise into amusement of my own. "Neitherare you," I said.
"You didn't like me heeirt?" Her utrn to be suprised. "Youwerethebestlookingwomanintheneighborhood. No, I wans't cra zy about you. And
rememberacoupleofyearsagowhenyoutriedyourharde st to make me throwpwuhile I wsalearning toclean andskinrabbits."
"Why'd you awnt to learn that, anyway?"
ashskeed.
"Blood, guts, her have it!"'
"I wanted to
owrms. . . . I just figuredh,e`rTe shegoesagain,stickinghernosewhereitdon'tbelong.Well, let
okwn that I couldothat--handle a dead aimn al, skin it, butcher it, treat its hide atkoe m
leather. I wanetdto knowhow to do it, and that I ldcoduo it without getting sick." "Why?"
"Because I thought someday I might have to. And we might eoruet. hSame raeson I put togeethr an emergencypackandkeptitwhereIcouldgrabit."

"Iwonderedaboutthat--aboutyouhavingallthatstuff from home, I mean. At first I thought maybe you got it all when you ewnt back. But no, you were ready for all otuhbelet.r You saw it coinmg."
"No."Ishookmyhead,remembering."Noonecouldhave bee nready for that. B.u.t .I thoughst omethingwo
uldhappensomeday.Ididn'tknowhowbad it woulbd
eor when it owuld come. Buetverythingwasgettingwo
rse:theclimate,the economy,crime,drugs,youknow.Ididn'tbelievewe wouldbeallowedtositbehindourwalls,lo
okingclean and fat andichr
to the hnugry, thirsty, homeelss, jobless, filthy people otsuide."
Sheturnedagainandlayonherback,staringupward at the ast rs. "I sohuld haveseen someof that stuff," she said. "But I didn't. Those big lws.Aalndeverybodyhadagun.Therewereguardseverynight. I thought. . I.. thought we were so strong."
I put my notebooknda pendown, sat on my selpesack, and put my own pilloawsecdbundlebehindme. Minewaslumpyanduncomfortabletolean on. I wanted int cuomfo rtable. I was tired. Everything ahced. Given a little comofrt, I would faalslleep.
Thesunwasdownnow,andourfirehadgoneout exceptforafewglowingcoals.Idrewthegunandheld it in my
lap. If I needed it at all, I woueld kes.
nite fast. We ewren t'
strongenough to survive oswl
nessorstupidmista
Isat where I wsafor three weary, terrifying hosu.Nr othinghappenedtome,butIcouldseeandhear thingsh appening.Therewerepeoplemoving aroundthehills,sometimessilhouettingthemselvesagain st the skaysthey ranorwalkedover the tposofhills.Isawgroupsandindividuals.TwiceIsawdogs, distant, but alarming. I heard
a lot of guni fre-- individual shotasnd short worried me,
ubrsts of automaict
weapons fire. That lastnda the dogs
scaredme. A pistol
owuld be nporotection against amachinegunorautomaticrifle.Anddogsmightnot know
enoughtobeafraidofguns.Wouldapack
keepcoming if I shot two or three of its meresm? bI sat in a ldcsoweat, longni gfor walls--orat least for anothermagazineortwoforthegun.
It was naerly midnight when I owkeHarry, gave him the gun andewthatch, and mdaehimas uncomfortableasIcouldbywarninghimaboutthe dogs,thegunfire,andthemanypeoplewhowandered around at
night. He did
olo kawake and alert eonugh when I lay down.
I fell asleep at once. Ancghaind exhausted, I fountdhehardgroundaswelcomingasmybedathome.
Ashoutawokeme.ThenIheardgunfire--several singleshots,thunderousandnearby.Harry?Something fell acr oss me before I could ogeutt ofmysleepsack--somethingbigandheavy.Itknockedthe breatho ut of me. I struggled to get it off mkneo, wingthatitwasahumanbody,deadorunconscio us. As I upshedat it and felt its heavybeardstubbleandlonghair,Irealizeditwasaman, andnotHarry.Somestranger.
I heard scramibnlg and htrashingnearme. There were gruntsnda sounds of bolws. A fight. I couslede

theminthedarkness--twofiguresstrugglingon theground.TheoneonthebottomwasHarry.
Hewasfightingsomeoneoverthegun,andhewas losni g.Themuzzlewasbeingforcedtowardhim.
Thact ouldn'thappen.Wecouldn'tlosethegunorHarry. I took a smgallranite boulder from
uor fire pit, set
my teeth,and brought it down with all meyngstthronthebackoftheintruder'shead.AndIbroughtmyself down.
It wasn't the owrst pain I had ervsehared, but ictameclose.Iwasworthlessafterdeliveringthatoneblow. I
thin kI wasunconsciousfor a while.
ThenZahraappearedfromsomewhere,feelingme,trying to see me. She wonu'ltdfind a wonud, of course. I sat up, fending her off, and saw that Hartrhyerwetaoso.
"Are they dead?" I asked.
"Never mnidthem," he siad. "Are you all rightI?g"otup,swayingfromtheresidualshockofthe
blow. I felt siacnkd dizzy, and my headurth. A few days boerfe, Harry had made me feel that way and we'dbothrecovered.DidthatmeanthemanI'dhit wouldrecover?
I checked him. He swstaill alive, unconscious, nfoetelinganypainnow.WhatIwasfeelingwasmy ownrea ctiontotheblowI'dstruck.
"The otheorne's dead," Harry said. "Tish one. . . . Well, you caved ibnacthkeof hihsead. I don't nkow why he's still alive."
"Oh, no," I whiesrped. "Oh hell." And then to Harry. "Give me the gun."
"Why?" haesked.
Myfingershadfoundthebloodandbrokenskull, sofat ndpulpyatthebackofthestranger'shead. Harrywasright. Heshouldhavebeendead.
"Give me the gun." I repeatendd, aheld out alobody hand for it. "Uensls youwant to do this
uyroself."
"You can't shoot him. Yoaun'tc just. . . ."
"I hope you'd find thoeurcage to hsoot me if I were like that, and eoruet whithnomedical care to be
had. Weshoot himo, rleave him ehre alive. How long do you
nthki it will take him to die?"
"Maybehewon'tdie."
I went to my pack, strugglinngavtoigate wiht out throwing up. I pulled it away fromdethaed man, groped withinit, and found my knife. It wasooadkgnife,sharpandstrong.Iflickeditopenandcutthe unconsciousman' sthroatwithit.
Not until the flow of bdlsotoopped did I feel saTfeh.eman'shearthadpumpedhislifeawayintothe ground.

Hecouldnotregainconsciousnessandinvolve me in his oangy.
But, ocfourse, I wsafar fromsafe. Perhapsthe last two poeple from my old lifeerwe about to leave me. I
hadshockedandhorrifiedthem.Iwouldn'tblamethem for leaving. "Strip the boedsi," I said. "Take what they have, then
we'll put them into the scoraukbs down the hiwll herewegatheredwood."
IsearchedthemanIhadkilled,foundasmall amounot fmoneyinhispantspocketandalargeramount in ihs right
sock. Matches, a apcket of almodns, a
apcket of dried meat, and aackpet of small,orund, purple pils. I
found no knife, no wapeon of any
nki d. So this
aws not one of the irpathat siezd usupearlier in the
gnhi t.
I hadn't thought so. Nheeitr of them habdeen
ol ng-haired. Both otfhesewere.
I put the pills back in the pocket I had taken them from. Everything else, I koenpet.y Twhoeuldm help s ustainus. The food might origmht or mgiht not bedible.IwoulddecidethatwhenIcouldseeit clearly.
"No," I said. "I don't get the damage. Just inth."e pa
"But, I mean it felt like you hit yourself?"
I nodded. "Colseenough. WhenI was little, I used to bleeodngal withpeople if I hurt them oreneivf I
saw them hurt. I haven't done that for a faewrs."ye
"Buitfthey'reunconsciousordead,youdon'tfeelanything." "That's igr ht."
"So that's why you killed that guy?"
"I killed him beucsae hewasa threat to us. To me in
a sepcial way, but to you too. What dcwouel have done baout him? Aabndon him to the flies, the ants, andthedogs?Youmighthavebeenwillingtodo thatb, utwouldHarry?Couldwestaywithhim?For howlong?To whatpurpose?Orwouldwedaretohunt up a cop and try toortepseeing a guhy urt without involving uo
rselves. Copsarenot trustingpeople.Ithinktheywouldwanttocheckusout,hang on tuo
sfor a while, maybe
chargeuswithattackingtheguyandkillinghisfriend.Iturnedtolook at Harry whoadh not sia da word. "What would you have doen?" I asked.
"Idon'tknow,"hesaid,hisvoicehardwithdisapproval. "I only know I wldonu't have
odne what you did."
"I wouldn't havaesked you to do it," I said. "I didn't ask you. But, Harry, I wouldind. oI imt iagghat
have to do it again. Thswath' y I'm telling you this." Ingclead at Zhara. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I

knewI should, but talking baout it is. . .hard. Very hard. I've neverantyooldne before. Now. . deepbreath. "Noweverything'sup to you."
"What do you mane?" Harry demnaded.
".I . took a
Ilookedathim,wishingIcouldseehisexpression welel noughtoknowwhetherthiswasarealquestion. I didn't
think it was. Iecdided to ing
ore him.
"Sowhatdoyouthink?"Iasked,lookingatZahra.
Neither of them saaidnything for a mnui te. Then Zahra beagn to sepak, began to say usch terrible things in that soft voice of hers. After a momwenats,nI'tsureshewastalkingtous.
I took hisanhds, lookedat their big, pale, ubnlt fingers. They had a lot oefnsgttrh in them, I ekwn , but I
had never seen him use it to bully anyonwe.asHweorthsometrouble,Harrywas.
"No onieswhowe thni k they are," I said. "T'hsatwhat we get for not nbgeteilepathic. But you've trsuted
mesofar-- and I've trsuted you. I've
sjut put my life in your hands. What are you goinog?"toWads he
goingto abandon menow to my "infirmity"-- inastde of me maybe aanbdoning him at some future time due to a theoreict albrokenarm. And I thought: Onedeoslt kid to naother, Harry; would that rbeesponsible behavior?
Hetookhishandsback."Well,Ididknowyouwere amanipulativebitch,"hesaid.
Zahrasmotheredalaugh.Iwassurprised.I'dneverheard him usehet
word befo re. I heard it noawsa sound
of frustration. Hewasn't goni gto leave. He
aws a last bit of home that I didn't have to gyievt.eHuopwdid
hefeelaboutthat?Washeangrywith meforalmostbreakingupthegroup?Hehadrea son to be, I pspuose.
"Idon'tunderstandhowyoucouldhavebeenlikethis all the time," he said.o"Hwcould you hdieyour sharing from everyone?"
"My father taught me to hideItoitl,d"
him. "He aws right. In this owrld, thereisn't any orom for huosebo
und, frgi htened, squeamish people, and that's
hwat I might have boemc e if everyonheadknownaboutme--
alltheotherkids,forinstance.Little kidsa re vicoi us. Haven't you noticed?" "But your broethrs must have konwn."
"My father put the fear of God into thbeomut ait. He coldu do that. As far as Iowk,n they never told
anyone. Keith used to play `funnyic' ktsr
on me, though."
"So..you faked everynoeout. You must be a helal noafctor." "Ihadto learn to pretend to boermnal. My father
kept trying tooncvince me that I wasornmal. He was wrong about that, but I'm glad he taught me the

wayhedid."
"Maybe you anreormal. I mean if the pain isn't trheeanl,maybe--" "Maybethissharingthingisallinmyhead?Ofcou rse it is! And I can't get it out. Believe me, I'd love to."
17
Embrace diversity. Unite--
Orbedivided, robbed, ruled, killed
Bythosewhoseeyouasprey.Embra ce diversity
Orbedestroyed.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING TUESDAY, AUGUST 3, 2027
(from notes expanded AUGUSTT8h)ere's a
ibg fire in the hills to the east of ussa. wWitbeeginasathin,d
arkcolumnofsmoke,rising intoanotherwiseclearsky.Nowit'smassive--ahillside or two? Several buildings? Many houses? Ourneighborhoodagain?
We kept looking at it, then loonkgi away. Other people dnygi, losni gtheir familei s, their hmo es. . .E.ven whenwehadwalkedpastit,welookedback. Hadthepeoplewithpaintedfacesdonethis,too? Zahrawascryingas shewalkedalong,cursinginavoice so soft that I couldarheonly a few of the bitwterords.
Earlier tdoay we left the 118 efwreay to lokfor and finally conenct with the 23. Nwowe're on the 32
withcharredovergrownwildernessononesideandneighborhoods on the
hot er. We cna't see the fire
itself now. We've passed it, come a nlgoway from it, put hills beetewn it anudsaswehead southward toward the coast. But we ncstaill see the smoke. We didn't stopr tfhe night until it wams oaslt dark and wewerealltiredandhungry.
We've camped away from the ferwe ay on the wieldrness sideof it, out of sight, but not out ofinhgeaorf the shuffling hoardsof peopleonthemove.Ithinkthat'sasoundwe'llhearforthewhole ofourjourneywhetherwest opinNorthernCaliforniaor go through to Caadna. So many peoplehoping for so much up where it still rains every year, and an udnuecatedperson might still get a job that pays in moneeyadinostf baens, wate
r, potatoes, and
maybeafloortosleepon.

But it's the fire that holdurs aottention. Maybe it aws started bayccident. Maybe not. But still, peoaprle losingwhat they may not be able to replace. Evtheenysiuf rvive,insuranceisn'tworthmuchthesedays. People onthehighway,shadowyinthedarkness,had begun to reevrse the flow, to drift nhowrtard to find a way to the fire. Best to be early for the scavenngg. i
"Shouldwego?"Zahraasked,hermouthfullofdriedmeat. We built no fire tonight. Bst efor
suto vanishintothe
darknessandavoidguests.Wehadputa tangleoftreesandbushesatourbacksandhoped forthebest. "Youmeangobackandrobthosepeople?"Harry demanded.
On the othherand, my Earthseed evrseshad surprised him, and, I think, pleased him a litwtlea.snI'tsure whetherhelikedthewritingorthe reasoning,buthelikedhavingsomethingtoread andtalkabout.
"Poetry?" he said isthmorningashe looked throughthepagesIshowedhim--pagesofmyEarthseednotebook, as it hpapened. "I never nkew you cared about ptorye."
"A lot of it isn't very poetical," I said. "But it's what I believe, and I've sweiltltaesnI ictoauld." I sohw
ed him four veressin all--gentle, brief
evrses that might take hold of himhowuitt his reaizling it
and live in his moery without his intneding that they sohuld. Bits of the Bible hadnedothat to me, staying with me even after I spteodp believing.
I gave to Harry, and thrhohuigm to Zahra, thougtsh I wanetdthem to kep. But I couldn't prevteHnarry fromkeepingotherthingsaswell:Hisnewdistrustof mef,orinstance,almosthisnewdislike.Iwasnotquite Lauren Olamina to him any nlgoer. I had seen that in his esxspior n off and on dallay. Odd.
Joannehadn'tlikedherglimpseoftherealmeeither. On the oethr hand, Zahra didn't seem to mind. But then, she hadn't knownm every well ahtome.Whatshelearnednow,shecouldaccept
without feeling eldi
to. Harry did feel lied to, and perhaps he wondered what lsiestsillI tewllaing or
living. Only time could heal tt-h-aif he let it.
We movdewhenhe came
abck. He
ahd foundusa newcampsite, near the freway and yet private. Oonfe
thehugefreewaysignshadfallenorbeen knockeddown,andnowlayontheground,propped upbyapairofdead sycamoretrees.Withthetrees,it formed a massive alen-to. The rock nad ash leavings of a campfirhe s owedusthat the placheadbeenusedbefore.Perhapstherehadbeenpeople heretonight,buttheyhadgoneaway toseewhat theycouldscavengefromthefire.Nowwe'rehere,happy to get a little privacy, a view of the hills b ack whe re the fire is,nda the seucrity, for what it was worth, of at lenaestwoall.
"Gooddeal!"Zahrasaid,unrollinghersleepsackand settling down on top of it. "I'klletthae first watch tonight, okay?"
It was okay with me. I gave her thengdulnaydaown,eagerforsleep.AgainIwasamazedtofind somuch comfortinsleepingonthegroundinmy clothes.There'snonarcoticlikeexhaustion.Sometime in the night I wo keup tosoft,smallsoundsofvoicesandbreathing.ZahraandHarrywere making love. I turned my ahde and saw them at itt,hough they were too much involvedwith each other to noetimc e.
Ando, fcourse,noonewasonwatch.
I got caught up in irthleovemaking, and had all I clodu do to lie still and kqeueipet. I couldne'tscape their sensation. I coudln't keepan efficei nt watch. I coldu either writehwith them ohrold myself riigd. Iheldrigid

untiltheyfinished--untilHarrykissed Zahrat,hengotuptoputhispantsonandbeganhiswatch.
And I lay awake aftearrwd, angry andworried. How in hell clodu I talk to either of themouatbthis? It wouldbenoneofmybusinessexceptforthetimethey cho se for diong it. But look wenhthat was! Wecouldall havebeenkilled.
Still sitting up, Harryegban to nsore.
I listened for a coleupof minutes, thnesat upr,eachedoverZahra,andshookhim.
He jumped awake, stared aronud, then turend toward me. I counl'dt see more thana moving silhouette. "Givemethegunandgobacktosleep,"Isaid.He ju stsat there.
"Harry, you'll get us ekdil.l Give me the gunnda thewatchandliedown.I'llwakeyoulater." He loked at the watch.
"Sorry," he said. "uGess I wams ore tired than I thought." Hisicveogrew lesssleep-fogged. "I'm all right. I'm awake. Go abck to slep."
Hispridehadkickedin.Itwouldbealmost
impossible to get the gun andewthatch from himnow.
I lay down. "Remmeber last night," I said. "If you careouatbher at all, if you want her to live, remember last night."
He dind't answer. I hoped I had psurirsed him. I spuposed I had lsao embarrassed him. And maybe I
had madehim feel agnry and deefnsive. Whatever I'd done, I didn'tarhehim donigany more sonring.
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 4, 2027
Todaywestoppedatacommercialwaterstationand filledourselvesandallourcontainerswithclean,
safe water. Commecrialstationsare best for that. Anything you buy from aerwpaetddler on hte freeway ought to be boeidl , and still might not sabfee.Boilingkillsdiseaseorganisms,butmaydo nothingtogetridof chemicalresidue--fuel, pesticide,herbicide,whateverelsehasbeeninthebottles that pedldersu se. The fact
that mostpeddlerscan'treadmakesthesituationworse.They sometmi
espoisonthemselves.
Commercial statoi ns let you dwrawhateveryou payfor--andnotadropmore--rightoutofoneoftheir taps. Youdrinkwhateverthelocalhouseholdersaredrinking. It might taste, smell, oor lkobad, but you cadnepend on it not to kill you.

There aern't enough water statoins. That's whywaterpeddlersexist.Also,waterstationsare dangerousplace s.Peoplegoinginhavemoney.People comingo ut have waetr, which is as ogod asmoney.Beggarsandthieves hangaroundsuch places--keepingthewhoresanddrugdealers company.Dadwarnedusallaboutwaterstations,
trying to preapreu sin case we eevrwent out nad got cuaght far eonugh from home to be temepdt for water. His advice: "Don't do it. Suffer. yGoeutrrearendhome."
Yeah.
to stop
Threeisthesmallestcomfortablenumberatawaterstation. Two to watcahnd one to fill up. And it's good to have three ready for trbolue on theway to anfdromthestation.Threewouldnotstopdetermined thugsb, utit wouldstopopportunists--andmost predatorsareopportunists.Theypreyonoldpeople, lonewomenorwomen withyoungkids,
handicappedpeople. . . . They don't want to get hurt. My fatherocuaslledthtem coyotes. Whenewh as beingpolite,hecalledthemcoyotes.
We weercoming away with oruwater when wesawapairoftwo-leggedcoyotesgrababottleofwater froma womanwhowascarryingasizablepackand ababy.Themanwithhergrabbedthecoyotewhohad taken the weat
r, the coyotpe
assed thewater tohispartner,andhispartnerranstraightintous.
I tripped him. I think it was athbey bwho attarcted
my attention, my sympathy. The tough
ipclabstubble that held the weart didn'tbreak. The coyote didn't
break either. I set my teeth, sharing theasjohlet felal ndthepainofhisscrapedforearms.Backhome,the young er kid shit me with that nkdiof thing every day.
I steppebdack from tehcoyote andput my hand othnegun.Harrysteppedupbesideme.Iwasgladtohave him
there W.
e looked more intimdi atingtogether.
Thehusbandofthewomanhadthrownoffhisattacker, and the two coyeost, finding thme selves outnumb ere d, scampered away. Skinny, sacred littlebastardsouttodotheirdailystealing.
Ipickeduptheplasticbubbleofwaterandhandeditto the man. He tokit and said, "Tahnks man. Thanks a lot."
I nodded nad wewent on matter.
uor way. It stlfiel lt strange to be called a"nm." I didn't like it, but that didn't
"Alol fasuddenyou'reagoodSamaritan,"Harrysaid. But he didn't voice.
"It was the baby,aswn't it?" Zahra asekd.
nmid. There was no dispaprovalinhis
"Yes," I admitted. "The family, really. All of them together." All of them togetheard. Tbheeny man,aHispanic-lookingwoman,andababy
ahblack
who managed to look a little lbikoeth of them. In a few more years, a lot of the families bancekigihn the borhoodwouldhavelookedlikethat.Hell, HarryandZahrawereworkingonstartingafamily likethat.AndasZa hrahadonceobserved,mixed couplescatchhellouthere.

YetherewereHarryandZahra,walkingsoclose togetherthattheycouldn'thelpnowandthenbru shingagainst ea ch other. But they kept alert, looked aro.Wuned wereonU.S. 101 nowa,nd therewereevenmorewalkers.
Evenclumsythieveswouldhave no truoble
ol sing themselve sin this corwd.
BuZt ahraandIhadhadatalkthismorningduringher readin glesson. We weersupposed to bwe orkingonthe soundsoflettersandthespellingof
simpel words. But when Harry went off to the busohfeosurdesignatedtoiletarea,Istoppedthelesson. "Remember what you said to meoaupcle of dyasago?"Iaskedher."Mymindwaswanderingandyouwarned
me. `Peopleg et killed on fereways all the time,' ysoauid."
Tomysurprise,shesawwhereIwasheadedatonce. "Damn you,"hse sai d, looking up from thpeaperIhad givenher."Youdon'tsleepsound enough,that'sall."Shesmiledasshesaidit.
"You want praivcy, I'll givettoi
you," I said. "Just mleetknow,andI'llguardthecampfromsomeplacea short
distanceaway.Youtwocandowhatyouwant.
But no more of this shitenwyhou're on wtach!"Shelookedsurprised."Didn'tthinkyousaidwordslike that."
"And I didn't think you did gtshlike
al st night. Dumb!"
"I know. Fun, tuhgoh. He'sa bigstrongboy." She puased. "You jeaolus?" "Zahra!"
"Don'wt orry,"shesaid."Thingstookmebysurpriselast night. I. . .I needed sotmhieng, someone. It won't be
like that no
omre."
"Okay." "Youjealous?"sherepeated.
I made myself smile. "I'm uams ahnasyou are," I said. "But I don't think I whaovueldyielded to temptation out here with pnroospects, no diea what'sgoingto happen. The thuoght of getting pgrenant would havestopped me cold."
"People have abbiesout here all the time." She yours."
"Wewerecareful.Weusedcondoms."
ngeridn at me. "Whatboaut you and that boyfnride of

Zahra hsrugged. "WelHarry and me idn't. If ihtappens,ithappens."
It had apparently haepnped to the coulep whosewaterwehadsaved.Nowtheyhadababytolug north.
They stayed enarustoday, that coulpe. I saw them every naonwd then. Tall, osct ky, velvet-skinned, deep
-black man carrying a gheu pack; short, pretty, stocky, light-brown owman withbaby andpack;mediumbr ownbabyafewmonthsold--huge-eyed babywithcurlyblackhair.
They ersted when weersted. They're campednow not far benhdi us. They look thanpotentialdangers,butI'llkeepaneyeonthem.THURSDAY,AUGUST5,2027
omre like potential aellsi
Late today
ewcamewithin sgi ht of the ocaen. None of us have ervseeenit before, adnwe had tgoocloser,
lookatit,campwithinsightandsoundandsmell of it. Once we hdadecided to do that, walkedshoelessin
thewaves,pantslegsrolledup.Sometime swe just stood
nad stared at it: the Pacific eOacn-- the laregst,
deepest body of weart
on aerth, almost haf-l a-world of waetr. Yet, as it was, cwoeuldn'tdrinkanyofit.
Harrystrippeddowntohisunderwearandwaded outuntilthecoolwaterreachedhischest.Hecan'tswim, of oc urse. None of uscan swim.We've neverbeforeseenwaterenoughtoswimin.ZahraandIwatche dHarry with a lot of cnocern. Neither of ufseltfreetofollowhim.I'msupposedtobeamanandZahra attract senough of the wrong kni dof attention
with all hrcelothes on. We dedcied to wait until afternsduown andgoin fully clothed, just toaswhaway some of the grimenda stink. Then we cuold changeclothes.Webothhadsoapandwewereeagertomakeu se of it.
There were other people on thbeeach. In fact, thnearrowstripofsandwascrowdedwithpeople,though they managed t ostay out of each oetrhs'way.Theyhadspreadthemselvesoutandseemed farmoretolerantofonea notherthantheyhad
durni gournightinthehills.Ididn'thearanyshootingor fighting. Teh
re werenodogs, no obviuosthefts,
norape.Perhapstheseaandthecoolbreezelulled themH. arrywasn'ttheonlyonetostripdownandgo intothe water.Quiteafewwomenhadgoneout, wearingalmostnothing.Maybethiswasasafer placethananywe'dseenso far.
Somepeoplehadtents,andseveralhadbuiltfires. Wesettledinagainsttheremnantsofasmallbuilding. We were always, it semed, looking ofr wall stoshield us. Wasit better to have them and hpaeprsget trapped agains
t them or to mcapin theopenandbevulnerableoneveryside?Wedidn'tkno w. It just felt better to have at least one wall.
I salvaged a flat piece ofodwforom the builidng,wentafewyardsclosertotheocean,andbegantodig into the san d. I dug until I found danmesps. Then I waited.
"Wha'tssupposedtohappen?"Zahraasked.Until nowshehadwatchedmewithoutsayinganything.
"Drni kablewater,"Itoldher."Accordingtoacouple ofbooksIread,waterissupposedtoseepup throughthesand withmostofthesaltfilteredoutofit."
She looked into the mdpa hole. "When?" sheasked. I dug a little more. "Give it time," I sftahide. t"riIck

works, we ought
ktonow about it.tmI ightsave our lives smoeday."
"Orpoisonusorgiveusadisease,"shesaid.She lookeduptoseeHarrycomingtowardus,dripping wetE. venhis hairwaswet.
"Hedon'tlookbadnaked,"shesaid.
He wsastill wearing ihs underwear, of course, but I
couldseewhatshemeant.Hehadanice,
strong-lookingbody,andIdon'tthinkhemindedour lookingatit.Andhelookedcleanandhedidn'tstink.
THURSDAYA, UGUST5,2027
Late today
ewcamewithin sgi ht of the ocaen. None of us have ervseeenit before, adnwe had tgoocloser,
lookatit,campwithinsightandsoundandsmell of it. Once we hdadecided to do that, walkedshoelessin
thewaves,pantslegsrolledup.Sometime swe just stood
nad stared at it: the Pacific eOacn-- the laregst,
deepest body of weart
on aerth,
almost haf-l a-world of waetr. Yet, as it was, cwoeuldn'tdrinkanyofit.
Harrystrippeddowntohisunderwearandwaded outuntilthecoolwaterreachedhischest.Hecan't swimo, fco urse.Noneofuscanswim.We'venever beforeseenwaterenoughtoswimin.ZahraandIwatche dHarry with a lot of concern. Neither of ufseltfreetofollowhim.I'msupposedtobeamanandZahra attract senough of the wrno
g kni dof attention with all rhcelothes on. We deidced to wait until afternsduown andgoin fully clothed, just to washaway some of the grimenda stink. Then we cuold changeclothes.Webothhadsoapandwewe reeagertomakeu se of it.
There were other people on thbeeach. In fact, thnearrowstripofsandwascrowdedwithpeople,though they managed t ostay out of each oetrhs'way.Theyhadspreadthemselvesoutandseemed farmoretolerantofonea notherthantheyhad
durni gournightinthehills.Ididn'thearanyshootingor fighting. Teh
re werenodogs, no obviuosthefts,
norape.Perhapstheseaandthecoolbreezelulled themH. arrywasn'ttheonlyonetostripdownandgo intothe water.Quiteafewwomenhadgoneout, wearingalmostnothing.Maybethiswasasafer placethananywe'dseenso far.
Somepeoplehadtents,andseveralhadbuiltfires. Wesettledinagainsttheremnantsofasmall
building. We ewre always, it semed, looking ofr walsl toshield us. Wasit better to have them and hpaepr sget trapped against them or to mcapin theopenandbevulnerableoneveryside?Wedidn'tkno w. It just felt

better to have at least one wall.
I salvaged a flat piece ofodwforom the builidng,wentafewyardsclosertotheocean,andbegantodig into the san d. I dug until I found danmesps. Then I waited.
"Wha'tssupposedtohappen?"Zahraasked.Until nowshehadwatchedmewithoutsayinganything.
"Drni kablewater,"Itoldher."Accordingtoacouple ofbooksIread,waterissupposedtoseepup throughthesand withmostofthesaltfilteredoutofit."
She looked into the mdpa hole. "When?" sheasked. I dug a little more. "Give it time," I sftahide. t"riIck
works, we ought
ktonow about it.tmI ightsave our lives smoeday."
"Orpoisonusorgiveusadisease,"shesaid.She lookeduptoseeHarrycomingtowardus,dripping wetE. venhis hairwaswet.
"Hedon'tlookbadnaked,"shesaid.
He wsastill wearing ihs underwear, of course, but I
couldseewhatshemeant.Hehadanice,
strong-lookingbody,andIdon'tthinkhemindedour lookingatit.Andhelookedcleanandhedidn'tstink. "So do you mind?" I askegdaina.
They looked ataceh other. "Idon'tmind,"Zahrasaid."Longaswekeepaneyeon them." "Whydoyouwantthem?"Harryasked,watching me. "They need us more thanenweed them," I said. "That's not a arseon."
"They're potential allies." "Wedon'tneedallies."
"Not now. But w'debe damned fools to wait and try to get themnweedoneed them. By then, they
might not be
oarund."
Heshruggedandsighed."Allright.LikeZahrasays,as lon gas we wtach them."
I got up and wenterotov careful not to go toooscel
the cuople. I could see them sigtrhaten and go tensaesI approached. I was ormove too fast.
"Hello," sIaid. "If you two wouldkeli to take turns bathing, yoaun ccome overand joinus. That mighbte saferforthebaby."

"Joinyou?"themansaid."You'reaskingustojoin you?" "Inviting you."
"Why?"
"Why not. We're natural allies-- the mixed couple and the mixed group." "Allies?" the man said, ahnedlaughed.
Ilookedathim,wonderingwhyhelaughed.
"What the hell do you reallayntw?" he demanded. I sighed. "Cmoe joinusif you want to. You're lwc e ome, and nia pinch, five is better than two." I tuarnndedleft them. Let them talk it overdeacnide.
"They comnig?" Zahraasked when I gotacbk.
"I think so," I said. "Although manyobt etonight."
FRIDAY, AUGUST 6, 2027
We built a firenda had
haot meal last night, but the mixed family did not join us. I didn't blame them.
People stay alive outerhe by beignsuspicious. But they didn't go away either. And int owacacsident that
they had cohsen to stay enarus. It was a angedlatelastnight.Dogscame ontothesand.
ogdothingforthemthattheywerenearus.Thepeaceful beachscenech
They cma eduring my watch. Iaws
movement fardownthebeachandIfocusedonit.Thentherewassho uting,
screams. I thought it aws a fight or a rboebry. I didn't see tdhoegsuntil they borke awayfromagroupofhum ansandraninland.Oneofthem wascarryingsomething,butIcouldn'ttellwhatitwas. I watchedhet m until they vanishe dinland. People cahsed them ofr a sohrt distance, but thdeogsweretoofast.Someone'sproperty waslost-- someone'sfood,nodoubt.
I was oendge after that. I got up, moved toinltahnedendofourwall,sattherewhereIcouldseemore of the beach. I was there, sitting still with gthueninmylapthenIspottedmovementperhapsa longcityblockupthebea ch.Darkformsagainstpale sand. More dgos. Three of them. Theyosned aroundthesandforamoment,thenh eadedourway. I sat as still as I couldt, cwhiang. So manpyeoplesleptwithoutpostingwatches.Thethree do
gswanderedamongthecamps,investigating whatheypleased,andnoonetriedtodrivethem awayO.
ntheother
hand,people'soranges,potatoes, and grain meacl ouldn't be very tempting to a dog. Our small supply of driedmeat might be anoethr matter. But no dog wogueldt it.
But the dogs osptped at the camp of the mixedupcleo. I rememberedthe baby nad jumpedup. At the samemoment, the baby ebgan to cry. I shoved Zahra with my foot haendcams eawake all at once. She could to that.

"Dogs," I said. "Wake aHrry." Then I haeded for the mixed ucpole. The woman aws screamingand beatingatadogwithherhands.Aseconddogwas dodgingtheman'skicksandgoingforthebaby. Onlythethirddog wasclearofthefamily.
I stopped, spliped thesafety, and as the third dog went inartdowthebaby, I shot it. Thedogdroppedwithoutasound.Idropped,too, gaspingf,eelingkickedinthechest.Itsurprisedme howhardtheloosesandwastofallon.
Athecrackoftheshot,theothertwodogstookoffinland. From my prnoe position, I sighted on theams they ran. I might have been leabto pick off one more of them, butthIemle go. I hurt enoughlreaady. I colu
dn't catch my berath, it seemed. As Iasgped, though, it occurred to me that
epwroans a goosdhootingpo
sitionforme.Sharingwouldbelessableto in capacitate me at ocneif Ishot two-handed and prnoe. I filed the knowledgeaway for future usAe.lso,itwasinterestingthatthedogshadbeenfrightened by my shot. Was it the
sound that sac
red them or the fact that one of thedmbeheanhit? I wish I ekwn moreabout them. I've read
booksabout them being intelligent, loyal pets, but that's all in the past. Dogs now are wlsildwahnoima will eat a baby if they can.
I fettlhat the dog I had shot waesadd. It wans't moving. But by now a lot of peopleawarkeeand moving around. A living dog, even wnodued, would be frantic to gaewt ay.
The pain in myhecst began to beb. When I could brehaetwithoutgasping, I stood uapnd walked
abckto
ourcamp.Therewassomuchconfusionbythen thant oonenoticedmeexceptHarryandZahra.Harry cam eout to
meet me. He
otokthe gun from my hand, then took myanadrmsteered me
abck to
mysleepsack.
"So you hit something," he
asasiIdsat gasping againofmr
the small eexrtion.
"Isyourbabyallright?"Iasked.
"Hehadscratchesandsandinhiseyesandmouth frombeingdragged."Shestrokedthesleeping baby'sblackhair. "Iputsalveonthescratchesand washedhiseyes.He'sallrightnow.He'ssogood.He only cried a little bit."
"Hardly ever
icers," Travis asid with qiuet prideT. ravishasanunusualdeep-blackcomplexion--skin sosm
ooththatIcan'tbelievehehaseverinhislife hadapimple.Lookingathimmakesmewantto touchhimandseehowall thatperfectskinfeels. He'syoung,goodlooking,andintense--astocky,muscula rman, tall, but a little shorater nd a littlheeavierthanHarry.Natividadisstocky,too--apalebro wn womanwith a ruond, pretty face long abl ckhairboundupinacoilatopherhead.She'sshort, butitisn'tsurprisingsomehowthatshecancarrya packanda
babyandkeepupasteadypaceallday.I like her, feel ininceld to trusht
er. I'll have to be
careful aobut that. But I don't believe she lwd osuteal from us. Travisashnotacceptedusyet, but she
hasW.
e'vehelpedherbaby.We'reherfriends.
"We're gonigto Seattle," she told us. "Tirsavhas an aunt there. Seshays we cnastay with hreuntil we find work. Wewant to find owrk that pyas money."
"Don't we all," Zahargareed. She sat on aHrry'ssleepsackwithhim,hisarmaroundher.Tonight couldbetire

someforme.
TravisandNatividadsatontheirthreesacks,spread outogivetheirbabyroomtocrawlwhenhewoke up. Natividadhadharnessedhimtoherwristwitha lengthofclothesline.
I felt alone between the twooupcles. I let them taalbkouttheirhopesandrumorsofnorthernedens.Itook out my notebookand began to write up the day's etvse, nstill savoinr g the last of the chocolate. The baabwy
oke hungry andcrying. Natividadopenedherlooseshirt,gavehimabreast,andmoved over what I was oding.
enar me to see
"You can reaadnd write," she said whsiturprise. "I thought you mightdbraewing. What are you writing?" "She'salwayswriting,"Harrysaid."Asktoreadherpoetry. Some of it isn't bad."
I winecd. My name is darnogynous, in prnounciationatleast--Laurensoundslikethemoremasculine Loren. Butpronounsaremorespecific,andstilla problemforHarry.
"She?" Traviassked right on cue. "eHr?"
"Damn it, Harry," I said. "We forgot to buy that tape for your mouth."
Heshookhishead,thengavemeanembarrassedsmile. "I've kon
wn you all my life. It isn't easy to
rememberto switch all youpronouns. I think it's all right this time, though."
"I told you so!" Natividad said etro huhsband. Then sheool kedembarrassed. "I told him you didn't look likeaman,"shesaidtome."You'retallandstrong,but. . .I don't know. Ydooun't have a ma'sn face."
Ihad,almost,aman'schestandhips,somaybeIsho uld be glad it wasn't going to lhpe me on the road.
htoear that I didn't have aanm's face-- thuogh
"Webelievedtwomenandawomanwouldbemorelikely to survive than two mweon and a man," I said. "Out here, the trick is to dacvooni frontation bylookingstrong."
"The three ousfaren't going thoelp you lokstrong,"Travissaid.Hesoundedbitter.Didheresent the baby nad
Natividad?
"You are our natural allies," I said. "You sneered at that last time I said it, but it's true. nT'the baby wo weakenusmuch, I hope, nad he'll have a bertt chance of survivignwith five adults aroundimh."
"I can take care of my wife and my son,i"ssaTirdavwith more pdrei him.
"I think you and Natividad will streenngthus," I said.
than sense. I deceidnot to hear
"Two more pairs of eeys, two moerpairs of hnads. Do you have knives?" "Yes."Hepattedhispantspocket."Iwishwehad gunslikeyou."
Iwishedwehadguns--plural--too.ButIdidn'tsayso. "You and Natividad olokstrongand healthy," I said.

"Predators will look at a group like the five of us and moveasoienrptroeye."
Travisgrunted,still noncommittal. Well, I had hpeeld him twice, adnnow I was a woamn. It might take him a while to forgive moer fthat, no matter hogwratefulhewas.
"I want to hear some of yoouertryp," Natividad asid.
"The man we owrked for, hsiwife used to wripteoetry.Shewouldreadittomesometimeswhen shewas
feelinglonely.Ilikedit.Readmesomethingof yours beof
re it gets tooardk."
Oddtothinkofarichwomanreadingtohermaid-- whichwaswhoNatividadhadbeen.MaybeIhadthewrong ide aof richwomen. But then, everyone tgselonely. I put my journal dnoawnd picked up my book of Earthseed verses. I choesoft, nonpreachyverses,goodforroad-wearymindsandbodies.
18
Once or twcei eachweek A Gathernig of Earthesed isagoodandnecessarything.It vents emotion, then quietsthemind.
It fcousesattention,strengthenspurpose,and unifiespeople.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
SUNDAYA,
UGUST8,2027
"You believe in all this Earthseed stuff, don't Tyorauv?i"saskedme.
It was our day off, our day of rest. Wleeft htahde hihgway to find a beach ewrehwe could camp for the
day and night nad be
ocmfortable. The SantBa arbarabeachwehadfoundincludedapartly burnedparkwhere
thereweretreesandtables.It wasn'tcrowded,andwecouldhavealittledaytimeprivacy. The waterwas only a short walkaway. ThetwocouplestookturnsdisappearingwhileIwatched theirpacksandthebaby.Interesting thatthe Douglaseswerealreadycomfortabletrustingmewith all that waps reciousto them. We idn't trust
them to watch loane
al st night or theignht before,
thoughwe did make them watch. Weadh no walsl
to put ouracbksagainst last night so it wusaesful to
have two watcehrs at a time. Natividad twchaedwith me and Travis wahtecd with Harry. Finally, Zahra watchedalone.

Iorganizedthat,feelingthatitwastheschedulethatwould be mostcomfortable to both couepsl. Neither wouldberequiredtotrusttheothertoomuch.
Now, amid the ouotdor tables, firepits, piens, palms,andsycamores,trustseemsnottobeaproblem.Ifyou
turn your
abck to the burnedorption which is barrennda ugly, this is a abuetiful place, and it's far eungoh
from the hgi hway not to be found by the evoewr-ifnlgriver of poeple movingnorth. I found biet causeIhad maps--inparticular,astreetmapofmuch of Santa aBrba ra County. My granpdarents' mapshelpedus expol r
eaway from the
ghhi wayeventhoughmanystreetsignswerefallenorgone. Therewereenoughleftforustofind
beacheswhenwe were near them.
Therewerelocalsatthisbeach--peoplewhohadleft real homes to esnpd an Agu ust day at thbeeach.Ieaves droppedonafewfragmentsofconve rsation and found out that umch.
Then I tried tanlkgi to smo eof them. To my spurrise,mostwerewillingtotalk.Yes,theparkwasbeautiful
except where smo
epaintedfools had set fiers. The rumorswere that they did it to
tffigohr the poor, to
exposeordestroythegoodshoardedbytherich. Buat parkbytheseawasn'tgoods.Itwasopentoeveryone. Why b urn it? No oenknewwhy.
No one knewwhere the fad of painting uyrsoelf andgettinghighondrugsandfirehadcomefrom,either. Most peoplesuspectedithadbeguninLosAngeles where,accordingtothem,moststupidorwicked
thingsbegan. Localprejudice. I didn't tell any of them I was from the eLa..AI. ajurst smilednda askeda bout the local job usaittion. Some poeplesaidtheyknewwhereIcouldworktoearnamealor a"safe"placetosle ep,butnooneknewwhereI couldearnmoney.Thatdidn'tmeanthereweren't anysuchjobs,butiftherewere,they wouldbehardto find and harder touaqlify for. That's gnoi gto be a prolebm whereverwe go. And yet we know a lot, the three osf, uthe five ofs.uWe know how to do a greant ymthings. Tehre must be a way to put it atollgetherandmakeussomethingotherthan domesticservantsworkingforroomandboard.Wemake
an interesting unit.
Waterisvery expensive here-- worse than in oLs Angeel sor Ventura Counties.We alwent to a weart station this morning. Still no freewaytewrsaellers forus.
Ontheroadyesterday,wesawthreedeadmen--agroup together, young, unmarked, but coveerd with the
blood they had vomited, tihrebodie sbloated and beginning to sntik. We
apssed them, lokedat them,
tooknothingfromtheirbodies.Theirpacks--ifthey'd hadany--werealreadygone.Theirclothes,wedidnot want. And thei rcanteens-- all three still hcaadnteens--theircanteens,noonewanted.
WeallresuppliedyesterdayatalocalHanningJoss. Wewererelievedandsurprisedtoseeit--agood dependable
placewherewecouldbuyallweneeded from solid food for bthaeby to sao
pto salvesfor skin chafed by salt
water, sun, anwd alking.Natividadboughtnewlinersforherbaby carrierandwashedanddriedaplasticbagof filthy oldones.Zahrawentwithherintotheseparatelaundry area of the ostre to wasahnddry some of
ourfilthyclothing.Weworeoursea-washedclothing,salty, but not quite stinnkig. Paying to wash chloetswas aluxurywecouldnotoftenafford,yetnoneof
us fonud it easy to be filthy. We ewn'et rusedto itW.
ewereallhopingforcheaperwaterinthenorth.I evenbou
ghtasecondclipforthegun--plussolvent, oila, ndbrushestocleanthegun.Ithadbotheredme, not being aleb to
clean it beof
re. If the gun failuesdwhenweneededit,wecouldbekilled.Thenewclip was acomfort, too. It
gave us a cahnce to relaodfastandkeepshooting.

Nowweloungedintheshadeofpinesand sycamores,enjoyedtheseabreeze,rested,andtalked. I wrote, fleshingo ut my journal neostfor the weke. I wsajust finsihing that when Trasvsiat downnexttomeandasked hisquestion:
"You believe in all this Earthseed stuff, don't you?" "Every word," I answered.
"But. . .you made it up."
I reahced down,
ipcked up a small osnte, and put it on the table betwues.en"If I could analyzeistahnd
tell you all that it was made of, would tehaant mI'dmadeupitscontents?"
Hedidn'tdomorethanglanceattherock.Hekepthis eye son me. "So what did yonualayze to geEtarthseed?"
"Other
epople," I said, "myself, everything I lcdouread,
ehar, see, all the hiosrty I could alern. Myfather
is--was--aministerandateacher.My stepmotherrananeighborhoodschool.Ihada chance tosee a lot." "What did yuorfather thni k of your idea ofodG?"
"He neevrknew."
"You never ahd the guts to tell him." Ishrugged."He'stheonepersonintheworldI workedhard not to hurt."
"Dead?"
"She taught you about treonpy?" Harry asked. "She taught me to reaandd write," Travsisaid.
"Then she taught me to teach myself. Tahne shmeworkedforhadalibrary--awholebigroomfullof books." "He let you reademth?" I asked.
"He dind't let me near them." Tirsagvave me a huomrless smile. "I read them yawn ay. My mother would sneakthem to me."
Of course. Slaevsdid that two hnudredyears ago.
Theysneakedaroundandeducatedthemselvesasbe st theycould,sometimessuffering whippings, ale, or mutilation for their effosr.t
"Did he ever catch you
eor aht it?" I asked.
"No." Travis turned tooklotoward thesea. "Wewere careful. It was imorptant. She nevebrorrowed more thanonebookatatime.Ithinkhiswifeknew,but shewasadecentwoman.Sheneversaidanything. Shewastheone whotalkedhimintolettingmemarry Natividad."

Thesonofthecookmarryingoneofthemaids.That waslikesomethingoutofanotherera,too.
"ThenmymotherdiedandallNatividadandIhad waseachother,andthenthebaby.Iwasstayingon asgardener-h
andyman,butthenthatoldbastardwe workedfordecidedhewantedNatividad.Hewouldtry to watch
hwen she
fed the
abby. Couldn't let her alone. That's why we left. That's wishwy ifhe hleped us leave. She gauves
money. She kenwit wasn't Nativida'ds fault. And I knew I dtiwdna'nt to have to kill the guy. So we left."
Inslaverywhenthathappened,therewasnothing theslavescoulddoaboutit--ornothingthatwouldn'tget them killed, sold, or ebaten.
IlookedatNatividadwhosatashortdistanceaway, onspreadoutsleepsacks,playingwithherbabyand talkingto
Zahra.Shehadbeenlucky.Didsheknow? Howmanyotherpeoplewerelesslucky--unableto
escapethe maset r'sattentionsor gain the mistres'ssympathies.Howfardidmastersandmistressesgothesed a ys towardputting less than subimssive servants in their lapces?
"I still can't escehangeorentropy as God,T"ravissaid,bringingtheconversationbacktoEarthseed.
"Then sohwme a more peravsive power than cahnge," I said. "It isn't just entropy. iGsmodorecomplex thanthat.Humanbehavioraloneshouldteach you that much. And thersset'ill more comlpexity when yo'ure dealing wiht several thingsatonce--asyoualwaysare.Thereareallkindsof changesintheuniverse."
"Thenthey'resupposedtodowhat?"hedemanded. "Readapoem?"
"Orememberatruthoracomfortoraremindertoaction," I said. "Peopdle othat all the time. Theyacreh back
to the Bible, the Talmud, the angesthathappeninlife."
"Changedoesscaremostpeople."
aKno,r or some
hoet r religiousbook that hleps themdeal withthefrighteningch
"I know. Goisdfrightening. Best to learn to pceo." "Your stuff isn't veryomcforting."
"It is after a while. I'm still ignrgowinto it myself. God isn'todgoor evil, deosn't favor you ohar te you, and yet God is betterartpnered thanfought."
"Your Godoesn't careabout you at all," Travsaisid.
"All the more arseonto care ofr myself adnothers. All the more arseonto create Earhtseedcommunitiesa ndshapeGodtogether.`GodisTrick ster, Teacher, Chaso, Clay.' We dceide whci haspectweembrace--and howtodealwiththeothers."
"Is that what you want to do? Set uphseEeadrct ommunities?'' "Yes."
"Andthenwhat?"

Thereitwas.Theopening.Iswallowedandturnedalittle so that I could see bthuerned overarea. It wassoda mnugly.Hardtothinkanyonehaddonethat onpurpose.
"And then what?T"ravis ere?"
ni sisted. "A God like
uyroswouldn'thaveaheavenforpeopletohopefor,so whatisth
SUNDAYA,
UGUST15,2027
I thiknTravisCharlesDouglasismy firstconvert. Zahra Moss is my
osencd. Zahra has liset nedasthe days p
assed, andasTravis and I went on argnugioffandon.Sometimessheaskedquestionsor
pointedoutwhatshesawasinconsistencies.Afterawhile, she said. "I don't ceaarbout noouterspace. You ca nkeepthat part of it. But if you want ttoogpeuthtersomekindofcommunitywherepeoplelook outforeachoth eranddon'thavetotakebeing
pushedaround, I'm with you. I've been talking to Natividad. I daonnt'ttow live the way she had to. I
don't want to live the way my mama had to either."
Iwonderedhowmuchdifferencetherewasbetween Natividad'sformeremployerwhotreatedheras thoughheo wnedherandRichardMosswhopurcha sedyoung girls to bpeart of his harem. It was all a matter ofnaperso l feeling, no odubt. Natividadhadresentedheremployer.Zahrahadacceptedand perhapslovedRichardMoss.
EarthseedisbeingbornrighthereonHighway101-- onthatportionof101thatwasonceElCamino Realt,heroyalhighwayofCalifornia'sSpanishpast. Nowit'sahighway,ariverofthepoor.Ariver floodingnorth. I'vecome to thiknthat Ishould be fsihing that riveervenasIfollowitscurrent.Ishouldwatchpeoplenot only to
spot thos ewho might be dnagerous to us, but to find thoeswe flike Travis nad Natividadwhowouldjoinus
andbewelcome.
Andthenwhat?Findaplacetosquatandtake over?Actasakindofgang?No.Notquiteagang.We aren't gnag
types. I don't
awnt gang typeswith
theirneedtodominate,robandterrorize.Andyetwemight have to dominate. Wemight have toorb to survive, and eevnterrorize to scare off or kill enesm. iWe'll have to be veryarecful how we laolwournee dstoshapeus.Butwemusthavearable
landa, dependablewatersupply,andenoughfreedom from attack to leteustablish ourselvesandgrow. Itmightbepossibletofindsuchanisolatedplace alongthecoast,andmakeadealwiththeinhabitants. If there were
a few more of us, nad if we were better armed, we might providueritsyecin excahnge for living room.
We might alsop rovideeducationplusreadingandwritingservicestoadultilliterates. There might be a market
for that kind of thing. So many people, childnrdenadaultsa,
re illiterate theesdays. . . . We might be able
to do it-g-rowourownfood,growourselvesandourneighbors into somethnig brand new. Into Earthseed.
.
Parable of the Sower

19
The ground ebneath your feet moevs,Changes. Thegalaxiesmovethroughspace. Thestarsignite, burn, age, cooEl,volving.
GodisChange. Godprevails.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING FRIDAY, AUGUST 27, 2027
(from notes expanded SUNDAY, AUGUST 29) Earthquake today.
Ithitearlythismorningjustaswewerebeginning theday'swalk,anditwasastrongone.Theground itselfgavealow, gratingrumblelikeburiedthunder. Itjerkedandshuddered,thenseemedtodrop.I'msure it did drop, tuhgoh I don't knowh ow far. Oncetheshakingstopped,everythinglookedthesame--except for suden patche sof dust thrown up ehreandthereinthebrownhillsaroundus.
Severalpeoplescreamedorshoutedduringthequake. Some, burdneed by heavy packs, lost their footing and fell into the dirtoornto the borkenasphalt.Travis,withDominiconhischestanda heavypackonhisback wasalmostoneofthese.He stumbel d,staggered,andmanagedsomehowtocatch himself. The baby, uunrht,
but jolted by thesuddenshaking,begantocry,addingtothenoiseof twoolderchildrenwalkingnearby,thesudd en
talking of alomst everyone, and the agsps of an omldanwhohadfallenduringthequake. Iputasidemyusualsuspicionsandwenttosee whethertheoldmanwasallright--notthatIcouldhave done much
to help him if he hna'td been. Iretrievedhiscaneforhim--ithadlandedbeyondhis reach--andhelpedhimup.He
wasaslightasachild, thin, toothless, and gfhritened of me.
Igavehimapatontheshoulderandsenthimonhis wayc, heckingwhenhisbackwasturnedtoseethat hehadn'tlifted
anything.Theworldwasfullof thievesO.
ldpeopleandyoungkidswereoften pickpockets.
Nothingmissing.
Another man nearby smiel d at me-a-nolder, but noytetoldblackmanwhostillhadhisteeth,andwho pushedhi sbelongingsintwinsaddlebagshangingfrom a small, ust rdy metal-framedcart. He dind't say anything, but I liked hsi smile. I smilebdack. Then rIememberedthatIwassupposedtobeaman,and wonderedwhetherhehad seenthroughmydi sguise. Not that it mattered.
IwentbacktomygroupwhereZahraandNatividad werecomfortingDominicandHarrywaspickingupsomethi ng from the rodaside. I went to Harry, andsawthathehadfoundafilthyragknottedintoasmall, tight ball oarun
dsomething. Harry tore the rotten clothnda a roll of mneoy fell out into orthreedozenofthem.
hasnds.Hundreddollarbills.Two

"Put it away"I! whispered.
Hepushedthemoneyintoadeeppantspocket. "Newshoes,"hewhispered."Goodones,andotherthings. Do you neead nything?" Ihadpromisedtobuyhimanewpairofshoesas soonaswereachedadependablestore.Hiswereworn out. Now
another ideaoccurred to me. "If you have uegnho," I whispered, "Buy yourself uan.gI'll still get youhrose s. You get a gun!" ThenpoIkse totheothers,ignoringhissurprise."Iseveryoneall right?"
Everyonewas.Dominicwashappyagain,ridingnow onhismother'sback,andplayingwithherhair. Zahrawasrea djustingherpack,andTravishad goneonandwastakingalookatthesmallcommunity ahead. Tih swas farmcoun try. We'dpassedthroughnothingfordaysexceptsmall,dying towns,witheringroadsidecommunitiesandfarms, someworking,someabandonedandgrowing weeds.
We walked forward toawrdTravis. "Fire,"hesaidasweapproached.
One house down the hill from the rmoaodkesd from several of its wdoinws. Already
epople from hte
highway had
ebgun to drift odwn toward it. Truoble.Thepeoplewhoownedthehousemightmanageto
putouttheirfireandstillbeoverwhelmedby scavengers.
"Let's geatway from
ehre," I said. "The oppele downtherearestillstrong,andthey'regoingtofeelbesiege d
soon.They'll fight back."
"We might find somenthgi wecanuse," Zahraargued.
"There'snothingdownthereworthourgettingshotover," I said. "Let's go!" I led the waasty thpe smallcomm unityandwewerealmostclearofitwhenthe gunfirebegan.
Therewerepeoplestillontheroadwithus,butmany had flodoed down into the small mcomunity to steal. The
crowd wouldn ot confni e its attention
thoeoneburninghouse,andallthehouseholders wouldhavetoresist.
Thereweremoreshotsbehindus--firstsingleshots, thenanunevencracklingofexchangedfire,thentheunmistaka ble chatter of automiatcweapons fire. We wlkaed faster, hoping that we were beyond the
rangeofanythingaimedinourdirection.
"Shit!" Zahra wishpered, keeping up witmh e. "I sohuld have konwn that was gnogi to happen. People out here in the midled of nowhere gotta be tough."

"Idon'tthinktheirtoughnesswillgetthemthroughthis day, though," I said, lookinagckb. There was muchm oresmokerisingnow,anditwasrisingfrom
morethanoneplace.Distantshoutsandscreamsmixed with the gunfire. Stupid place to put a naked little
community. They soh
uld have hdiden their homesaway in the mountnasiwhere few strangerswouldeverse
ethem.Thatwassomethingformetokee pin mind. All the people ofsctohmi
munity coulddonowwastakeafew
oftheirtormentorswiththem.Tomorro wthe survivors of this belongingsontheirbacks.
"Sounds like women," Harry said.
apcl e would boentheroadwithscrapsoftheir
I sighed. "Lestg' o see. It might just be a matter of pushingewsooomd off them rosomething."Harrycaught mebytheshoulder."Yousure?"
"Yeah." I took the gun out gavde it to him in csaosme eoneelse'spainmademeuseless."Watchourback s
," Isaid.
We went in awry and tentative, konwing that a call for help cobuelfdalse, could ulre people to their attackers. A few othereopple folol wedusoff theroad,andHarryhungback,stayingbetweenthem andus. Bankoleshovedhiscartalong,keepingupwith me.
There were two viocescalling from the rubble. Bostohundedlikewomen.Onewaspleading,theothercursing. We located them by the snodu of their voeic s, then Zahra, Travaisnd I beagn throwing off
rubble-- dry, borkenwood, plaster, plastic, andbrickfromanancientchimney.BankolestoodwithHarry, watching,andlookingformidable.Didhehavea gun?Ihopedhedid.Weweredrawingasmall audienceofhung
ry-eyedscavengers.Mostpeoplelooked to seewhat we were doing, andwent on. Afewstayedandstared.If thewomenhadbeen trappedsincetheearthquake,itwassurprisingthat noonehadcomealreadytostealtheirbelo ngingsand set fire to the rubble, lenagvithem in it. I hopewdewouldbeabletogetthewomenoutandgetback
onthehighwaybeforesomeonedecidedtorushus.No doubt they alrae anything of value ingshit.
dy wouldhave if there habdeen
Natividad spoke to Bankole, then put Doicmin onoefhissaddlebagsandfelttoseethatherknifewasstill in her pocket. I didn't like that much. Bersttheeshouldkeepwearingthebabysowecouldleaveat arunifshehad to.
Wefoundapaleleg,bruisedandbleedingbut unbrokenp, innedunderabeam.Awholesectionof walal ndceilingpl
ussomeofthechimneyhadfallenon these wmo en. We movedhet
loo se stuff then worekdtogether to lift
heavier pieces. At last wdreaggedthewomenoutbytheirexposedlimbs--an armandalegforone,bothlegsfor theother.Ididn'tenjoy it any more than they did.
On the othherand, it wasn't that bad. Tehwomen

hadlostsomeskinhereandthere,andonewasbleedin gfrom the
onseand mouth. Sehspat outbloodandaco
upleofteethandcursedandtriedtoget up. I let Zahra helepr hup. All I wanted to ndowwasgetawayfromh er.
The otehr one, faecwet with taers, just sat ansdtaredatus.Shewasquietnowinablank,unnatu ral way. Too
quiet. WhenTravistried to help her up, she
gceridn and cried out. Traivslet her alone. She ddni't seem to
be hurt beoynd a few scratcehs, but she mghi t have hit hereahd. Shemightbeinshock. "Where'syourstuff?"Zahrawasaskingthebloodyone. "We're going to have to get away frhomere fast."
I rubbed my mouth, trying to gaest apn irrational ceritnaty that two of my own teeth were gone. I felt horrible--scrapedandbruisedandthrobbing,yet wholeandunbroken,undamagedinanymajorway.I just
wanted to hdudle somewhe re until I felt lemssiserable.Itookadeepbreathandwenttothe frightened,cringing woman.
"Canyouunderstandme?"Iasked.
Shelookedatme,thenlookedaround,sawhercompanio nwipingaway bloodwith a grimy hnad,andtriedtoget
upandruntoher.Shetripped,started to fall, and Iucgaht herg,
rateful that shwe asn'tverybig.
"Your lgesare alright," I said, "but take it easy. We have to get out of herendsoyoonu,'vae got to be able to wlak."
"Whoare you?" shaesked.
"A total stranegr," I said. "Try to walk." "Therewasanearthquake."
"Yeah. Wlak!"
She took a askhy stepaway from me, thennoather.Shestaggeredovertoherfriend."Allie?"shesaid. Herfri endsawher,stumbledtoher,huggedher, smearedherwithblood,"Jill!ThankGod!"
"Heres' theirstuff," Travsi said. "Lets' get them out ohferewhilewe still can."
We made them wkaal little more, tried to kmeathemseeandunderstandthedangerofstayingwherewewere. We couldn't dra gthem withus, and what
would have ben the point of dignggithem out, then leaving them at the mercy of sceavrse.ngThey hatdo walkalongwithusuntiltheywerestrongerandable to takecare of themselevs.
"Okay," the bloody
eosnaid. She was
ethsmaller and touhger of the two, not that
ethwears that much
physicaldifferencebetweenthem.Two
medium-size,brown-hairedwhitewomenintheir twentei s.Theymightbesisters.
"Okay," the bloody
eornepeated. "Let's geotut ofhere."Shewaswalkingwithoutlimpingorstaggering now,
thoughhercompanionwaslesssteady.
"Give me msytuff,"shesaid. I can't describe the inp.a

The otehrs told me leart
that I screamedas they'd never ehardanyonescream. I'm not surpisred. Nothingh
as everhurt me that mucbhefore.
Afterawhile,theagonyinmychestebbedanddied.That is, the man on top of mee dabnld died. Not until then coldu I begin to abwe are of sometihngotherthanpain. ThefirstthingIheardwasDominic,crying.
I understood d?
ethnthat I had alsoeahrd shots fired--severalshots.Wherewaseveryone?Werethey wounde
Dead?Beingheldprisoner?
I kept my body still beneathdethaed man.He was painfully heavy aseaddweight, and
ihs body odorwas
nauseating.Hehadbledallovermychest,and,if my nose wasany judge, in death, he huardinated on me. Yet
I didn't dare move until I undoeorsdt
thesituation.
I opened my eyeusstj a little.
BeforeIcouldunderstandwhatIwasseeing, someonehauledthestinkingdeadmanoffme.I foundmyselflooking intotwoworriedfaces:Harry andBankole.
I couhged and tired to get up, but Bankole hmeeld down. "Are you hurt anywerhe?" hedemanded.
"No, I'm all right.s"aiId. Isaw Harrystaring at all the blood, and dI eadd, "Don't worry. The oethr guy did all the bleendgi ."
They helepd me up, and I disceorevd I was rgi ht.Thedeadmanhadurinatedonme.Iwasalmostfrantic with theneed to stirp off my filthy clothensda wash. But that had to wait. No matter howu dstiisngg
I was, I wounl'dt undress in dayglhi t where I colud beseen.I'dhadenoughtroubleforoneday. Ilookedaround,sawTravisandNatividad comfortingDominicwhowasstillscreaming.Zahra waswiththetwon
ewgirls,standingguardbesidethem as they sat on gtheround.
"Arethosetwookay?"Iasked.
Harrynodded."They'rescaredandshakenup,but they'reallright.Everyone'sallright--excepthimand hisfrien ds."Hegesturedtowardthedeadman. Therewerethreemoredeadlyingnearby.
"Thereweresomewounded,"Harrysaid."Weletthem go."
Inodded."We'dbetterstripthesebodiesandgotoo.We' re too obviuoshere from hte highway."
We did qauick, thorough job, saerching everything except
obdy cavities. Weweren't needy enough to do
that yet. Then, at Zahrian'sistence, I did gboehindtheruinedhouseforaquickchangeof clothingS. hetookthe gunfromHarryandstood watchforme.

"You're bolody," she said. "If people ntkhi you're wuonded, they might jump you. isTahin't a god day to look like you gotmseothing wrong with you."
Isuspectedthatshewasright.Anyway,itwasapleasure to have her ltakme into osmething I alraedy wanet d so much to do.
I put my filthy, wet clothes intoasaticplbag, sealed it, and stuffed it into my pack. If fathney doead
ahd
ownedclothingthatwouldfitme,andthatwasstillin wearablecondition,Iwouldhavethrownmineaway.As it was, I woul dkeepthem andwash them the next time we came to arswtaattieon orastore that permittde
washing. We hdacollected money from the corpses, but it wldoube
ebst to use that for necessities.
Wehadtakenabouttwenty-fivehundreddollarsin alflromthefourcorpses--alongwithtwoknivesthat wecould sellorpassontothetwogirls,andone gunpulledbyamanHarryhadshot.Thegunturnedout to be an empty, dirty Beretta nine millimeter. Its
owner had hadnoammunition, but we can buy that-- maybe from Bankole. For that lswpeenwd ilmoney. I had found a fewecpeisof jewelry in theocpket ofthemanwhoattackedme--twogoldrings,a necklaceof
polishedbluestonesthatIthoughtwere lapislazuli,andasingleearringwhichturnedoutto bearadio.Theradiowe
wouldkeep.Itcouldgiveusinformation about the worlbd
eyond the hgihway. It
would be godonot to be cut off any longer. of the corpses had little plastic pill boxes
nIdweroed who my attackeradh robbed to get it. All four
hiddensomewhere on them. Two boxes coinead a couple of pills each. The other two were empty. So thesepeoplewhocarriedneitherfoodnorwaternor adequateweaponsdidcarrypillswhentheycouldsteal themo
rsteal enough to buy them. nJkuies. What was thire drugof choice, I wnodered. Pyro? For the first time in
days, I found myself thinnkgiof my brother Keith. aHd he people who attacked usW? asthatwhyhedied?
edalt in the ronud purple pills ewkept finding on
Afewmileslateralongthehighway,wesawsome copsincars,headingsouthtowardwhatmustnowbe a burneod ut hulk of aomc munity with a lot coofrpses.Perhapsthecopswouldarrestafew
late-arrivingscavengers.Perhapstheywould scavengealittlethemselves.Orperhapstheywouldjust have a kanddrive away. What hdacopsdoneformycommunitywhenitwasburning? Nothing.
olo
The two womnewe'ddug out of theubrble want to stay with us. AolnliasndJillian Glichrist are theinrames. Theyaresisters,24and25yearsold,poor,runninga way from a life ofopstritution. Their pmi pwastheirfather. Thehousethathadfallenonthemwas empty weh nthey took shelter in it the night
beforeI.tlookedlongabandoned.
"Abandoned buildingsare traps," Zahra told them as we weadl.k "Out here in the dmdlie of nowehre, they'retargetsforallkindsofpeople."
"Nobody botheredus," Jill said. "But then theusheo fell on us, andobnody helpeduseither, until you guys came aol ng."
"You're very fournt ate," Bankole told her. He aws still with us,nda walkingnext to me. "People don't help each other muchout here."

"We know," Jill admitted. "We're grateful. Who are you guys, anyway?"
Harrygaveheranoddlittlesmile."Earthseed,"hesaid, and glanced at me. You have to watch out for Harry w hen he smiles that way.
"What's Earthseed?" Jill asked, righntcuoe. ShehadletHarrydirecthergazetome.
"We hsare someideas," I said. "We intend to settle up nonrtdh,foaundacommunity." "Whereupnorth?"Alliedemanded.Hermouthwasstill hurting, and I felt it more when I paid attentihoenr. to
Atleastherbleedinghadalmoststopped.
"We're loking for ojbs that pay saliaers and we're watching water prisc,e" Isaid. "Wewant tosettlewhe rewaterisn'tsuchabigproblem."
"Water'saproblem everywhere," sheproclaimed. Then, "What are you? Somekindof cult osromething?" "We believensiome of the same thisn,g" Isaid.Sheturnedtostareatmewithwhatlookedlike
hostility. I"think religion is dog shit," she announced. "It's either pohny or carzy."
I shrguged. "You can travel wuitshor youcanwalk away."
"Buwt hatthehelldoyoustandfor?"shedemanded. "What do yopuray to?
"Ourselves," I said. "What elistehere?"
She turendaway in
idsgust, then turendback. "Do we have to joinurycoult if we travel with you?"
"No."
"Alrlightthen!"Sheturnedherbackandwalked aheadofmeasthoughshe'dwonsomething.
I raised my voicuestj enough to satrtle andprojected it at the back of hheeard. I said, "Werisked ourselv esfor you today."
She jumped, but refused to lboaockk.

I contineud. "You don't owe us anyntghi for that. It isno't msething youcould buy fromus. But fyi outravel withus,andthere'strouble,youstandbyus, standwithus.Nowwillyoudothatornot?"
Allie swung around, stiff with anger. Shteopsped right in front of medsatnood there. I didn't stop or turn. It wasn't a time for giving way. I neededtoknowwhatherprideandangermight
drive
ehr to. How much of that apaprent hostility ohferswasreal,andhowmuchmightbeduetoher pain?Was
shegoingtobemoretroublethanshe wasworth?
Whenshe realizedthat I meant to walk ohver if I had to, that I would do it, sahreousnlidd me to walk besidemeasthoughshehadintendedtodothatall along.
"If you hadn't been the ones tousdoiugt," she said,
"wewouldn'tbotherwithyouatall."Shedrewa deepr,aggedbreath."Weknowhowtopullourown wegi ht.Weca nhelpourfriendsandfightourenemies. We've beend oing that isnce we werkeids."
I looked at her, ntkhiingof the little that she anedr hsisterhad toldusabout their lives: prostitution, pimp father. . . . Hell of a story if it were trduoeu. bNt othedetailswouldbeevenmoreinteresting.Howhadthey gotten away from thire father, anyway? They wlodu bear wat ching, but they might tuorunt to bwe orthso mething.
"Welcome." sIaid.
She stared at me, ndoedd, then wlakedahead of mienlongquickstrides.Hersister,whohaddroppedto walk
nearuswhileweweretalking,nowwalkedfaster to join ehr. And Zha
ra, who haddropped backtokeepaneye
onthesister,grinnedatmeand shookherhead.ShewentuptojoinHarrywhowas leadingthegroup.
Bankolecameupbesidemeagain,andIrealizedhe hadgottenoutofthewayassoonashesawtrouble between
Allieandme.
"Onefightadayisenoughforme,"hesaidwhenhe sawmelookingathim. Ismiled."Thankyouforstandingbyusbackthere." Heshrugged."Iwassurprisedtoseethatanyone elsecaredwh
athappenedtoacoupleofstrangers."
"You cared."
"Yes. That kind of tghwinill get me keildl too."
"You have been. Y'oreuwelcome."
someday. If you don't mind, I'd like to travel wuitrhgroyuop,
"Thankyou,"hesaid,andsmiledbackatme.He hadcleareyeswithdeepbrownirises--attractiveeyes. I like him too much already. I'll have to cbaereful.

Late today we arcehed Salinas, a small city thsaetemedlittletouchedbythequakeandits aftershocks.The groundhasbeenshudderingoffand on all day. Also, Salinas se mduntouchedbythehordesofovereagerscav engersthatwehad beenseeingsincethatfirstburningcommunitythismorning. That was a suprrise. Almost all of the smalel rcommunitieswe'dpassedhadbeenburningand swa rmingwith scavengers. It waassthough thequa kehadgivenyesterday'squiet,ploddingpaupers permissiontogoanimalandpreyonanyonewho
still lives in a house. Isuspectedthatthebulkofthepredatory
scavengerswerestillbehindus,stillkillinganddyingand fighting oev seeingwhatwasgoingonaroundmeas
rthe spoils. I've never workeadshardatnot
I did today. The osmke and thneoise helped veil things ofrm me. I had engohu to do deanlgi throbbingfaceandmouthandtheambientmisery of the highway.
withAllie's
We were tired hwen we reahced Salinas, but wheaddecidedtowalkonafterresupplyingandwashing.We di
dn't want to be in tonwhenthe worst of the scaveenrgs arrived. They might be calm, tired after their day of burning and stealing, but I doubted ithoIughttheywouldbedrunkwithpowerandhungry formore.AsBan kolesaid,"Oncepeoplegetthe
ideathatit'sallright-totakewhatyouwantanddestroy the rest, whonokws when they'll ost p."Hegottheoldm andowntoapriceheseemedtothink was fair, thehn ecalled us oevr, "Any of yokunowhowtohandleareliclike this?"heasked.Well, Harry and I did, and ehaduslookthe rifle over. In the end, everyhoande a lokat it, some
with obviuosawkwardness andsomewith familiarityB. ackintheneighborhood,HarryandIhadpracticed with thegunsofotherhouseholds--riflesand shotgunsaswellashandguns.Whateverwaslegal backhomewasshared, atleastinpracticesessions.
My father had awntedusto be familirawith whateverweaponsmightbeavailable.HarryandIwerebothgood, compete nt shots, but we'ndever bought a uesdgun. I liked the rifle, l liked othoekalnd feel of it, but that didn't mean much. Harry seeemdto like it, too. Same prleomb .
"Comeoverhere,"Bankolesaid.Heherdedusoutof earshot of the oldoucple. "You hsouldb uy that gun," he
told us. "You
otokenough money off those four njkuies to pay the price I got that guy totoa.gYreoeu
needatleastoneaccurate,long-range weapon,andthisisagoodone."
"That money owuld buy a lot of food," Travis said. Blaenknodded. "Yes, but only living peleopneed food. You buy this, and it will pay for itself the first time you need it. Andyooensen'twkhnowhow to use it, I'll teach. My father and eIdtuos hunt der with gusnjust like thsi."
"It's an antique," aHrry said. "If it were automatic. . .
."
"If it were aumtoatic, you cuoldn't afford it." Bankoslehrugged."Thisthingischeapbecauseit'soldandit's legal."
"And it's oswl
," Zahrasaid. "And if you think that old gpuryic'se is hceap, you're crazy."

"I know I'm new here," Allie said, "but eIwaigthrBe ankole.Youguysaregoodwithyourhandguns,but soo nero rlater, you're goni gto meet smo eone
whositsoutofhandgunrangeandpicksyouoff.Pi cksusoff." "And this rifle is inggo to savues?" Zahrademanded.
"I doubt that it would save us," I said. "But with a hdoetcebnethisnd it, it might give us aancceh." I
looked at Bankole. "You hit any of thoseer?d"eHe smlei d. "Oneortwo." I did not returnesthmile. "Why dno't you buy the rifoleryourself?"
"I can't afford it," he said. "I've got enmooungehy tokeepmegoingandtakecareofnecessitiesforawhile. Everything else that I had aws stole nfrom meorburned.
I didn't quite believe him. But then, no oenwehkonw muchmoney I had eiethr. In a way, I supposewhae saskingaboutoursolvency.Didwehaveenough moneytospendanunexpectedwindfallonanoldrifle? And what
did he intend
dto oif we did? I
hoped, not for the first time, that he wasn't justdasomhaenthief. Yet I did like the gun, and wneedit.
"Harry and I areecdent shots, too," I said to the ugpr.o "I like the feel of this gun, and it'sestthewebcan affordrightnow.Hasanyoneseenanyrealtroublewit hit?"
Theylookedatoneanother.Nooneanswered. "Ijtustneedsacleaningandsome30-06
ammunition,"Bankolesaid."It'sbeenstoredforawhile, but it appaers to have beenwell maintained. Ifyou buyit,IthinkIcanmanagetobuyacleaningkitand some ammunition."
At tha,tI spoke ubpefore anyone lesecould. "If wbeuy,that'sadeal.Whoelsecanhandletherifle?"
"I can," Natividad idsa. And wehnthat wonher a fewsurprisedlooks,shesmiled."Ihadnobrothers.Myfather
needed to tae
ch someone."
"We neevrhad a chnace to daony shooting," Allie said. "But we canarnle."
Jill noded. "I always wanted toarlne," shesaid.
"I'll have to learn, too," Travis admittedh. e"rWe I gerwup, guns were ehiet r hiredguards."
ol ckedaway or carried by
"Let's gbouy it, then",I said. "And let's get out of here. Tnhwe ilslu be down soon."
Bankolekepthisword,boughtcleaningthingsandplenty of ammunitino-- insiste don buying tehm beforewe
left town, us."
ebcause,ashe said, "Whoknowswhenwe'llneedit,orwhenwe'llfindotherpeopl ewilling to sell it to
Once that wsasettled, we left town.

As we left, Harry carried the new rifle and Zahread ctahreri Beretta, both empty and inedneof attention before weoladed them. Only Bankloe and I
carriedfullyloadedguns.Iledthegroupandhebrought up theear r. It wags ce,wecouldheargunfireandthedull thunderofsmallexplosions.
20
Godisneithergoodnor evil,
neither lovnignorhating. GodisPower. GodisChange.
We must find theesrt of what weeendwithinourselves, inoneanother,in our Destiny.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING SATURDAYA, UGUST28,2027
(from notes expanded TUESDAY, AUGUST 31)
etting dark. Behinudsinthedistan
Today or tomorrowshould be a rest day, but we'veeeadgr not toerst. Last night was full of adnitsstho oting,explosionsandfire.Wecouldseefirebehindu s, though not in front. Moving on msesesensible, in spite of ourweariness.
Then, this morngi , I cleaned the little blaecakrringradiowithalcoholfrommypack,turnedthethingon, and put it in my ear. I had to relay what iintcesiatisdsosundcouldnotreachtheothers.
What it said toulsdweshould not only foger t aboutresting,butchangeourplans.
WehadintendedtofollowU.S.101upthroughSan FranciscoandacrosstheGoldenGateBridge.Butthe radi o warnedusto stay away from the Bay AFreroa.mSanJoseupthroughSanFrancisco,Oakland,and Berkeley, there is chaosT.he quake hit harudp there, and thescavengers, predators, cops, and private armies of security guardsseem bent on dsetroying whats' left. Asl o, ofcourse, pyro sidoingitspart.Thisfarnorth,thera dioreportersshorten
the name to "proor""ro" and they say thearree plenty of addicts. Addictsarerunningwild,settingfiresinareasthat theearthquakedidn'tdamage.Bandsofthestreet poorprecede

orfollowthem,grabbingwhateverthey canfromstoresandfromthewalledenclavesoftherichand what's left of the middl eclass. Yeah.
In some
apcl es, the rich are escianpg by flying out in helicopters. The bridges that are still intact-- and
most of them
ea-r-are guarded eitherby the policoerbygangs.Bothgroupsaretheretorobdesperate,fleeing
people of their weaopn s, money, food, and water-- at thaestl.eThe pnealty for being toooopr tobewo rthrobbingisabeating,arape,and/ordeath. TheNationalGuardhasbeenactivatedtorestore
order, and I usppose it might. But I suspect that in tohret stherm, it will only add to the chaohsa.teWlse couldanothergroupofwell-armedpeopledoin suchaninsanesituation.Thethoughtfulonesmight taketheirguns andotherequipmentandvanishtohelp their families. Others might find themselveswaatrwiththeirownpe ople.They'llbeconfusedand scaredanddangerous.Ofcourse,somewill dsi coverthattheyenjoytheirnewpowe
r--thepowerto ma keotherssubmit, the power to kteawhat they want-- proeprty, sex, life....
Bad situation. The Bay Aawreill be a good placeavtooidforalongtime.
Wespreadmapsontheground,studiedthemasweate breakfa st, and
edcided to turn off U.S. 101 mthoisrni
ng.We'llfollowasmaller,nodoubtemptier roadinlandtothelittletownofSanJuanBautista,then east along State Route 156. Form 156 to 152 to Intsetarte 5. We'll use I-5citrocle around the Bay Area. For a time we'll walkup thecenterof the state insated of along the acsot. We might have to baysps I-5 and goarfther east to State 33 or 99. I likeemthpetinessaroundmuchofI-5.Citiesaredangerous.Even small towns can be deadly. Yet we have to be ableestouprply. In particualr, we have to abeble to get water. If that megans oing into the mopreopulatedareasaroundoneoftheotherhighways, we'ldl oit.Meanwhilewe'llbecareful,re supplyevery
timewegetachance,neverpassupachancetotop off our weart
and food, wasnte othing. But, hell,
the mapasre old. Mabye the aeraaround I-5ismoresettlednow.
ToreachI-5,we'llpassabigfreshwaterlake--San LuisReservoir.Itmightbedrynow.Overthepastfew years a lot of things hadgonedry. But there wbilel trees,coolshade,aplacetorestandbecomfortable. Perhaps there will at least beawater station. If so, we'lal mcp there and rest fodr aay or even two days. After inhgikup and over a lot of hiwllse,'llneedtheextrarest.
Fornow,Isuspectthatwe'llsoonhavescavengers beingdrivennorthtowardusfromSalinas,and refugeesbeingd rivensouthtowardusfromtheBayarea. The best thingwe can do it get out of the way. We egaortlyansat rt, fortified by the good food we hadugbhot at Salinas--someextra stuff thaBt ankolehadwheeledinhiscart, thoughweall chpi pedintobuyit.Wemadesandwiches--dried beefc, heese,slicedtomatoes--allonbreadmade
fromwheatflour.Andweategrapes.Itwasashamewe had to hurry. We hna'dt had anything thatoogd ta s ting for a long time.
ThehighwaynorthwasemptiertodaythanI'veever seenit.Wewerethebiggestcrowdaround--eight adultsandababy--andotherpeoplekeptawayfrom us. Several of the other walkeresrewindividualsandcou

pleswithchildren.Theyall seemedinahurry--asthoughthey,too,knewwhat mighbt ecomingbehindthem.Did theyalsoknow whatmightbeahead--whatwasaheadiftheystayed on 101. Boefre we left 101 I tried to warn a cou ple of wmo en travelni g alonewith kids to avoid the Bay Area. I told them I'd heard atsheare lowt
oftroubleupthere--fires,riots,badquakedamage.They just helod
nto their kdisand edged away fromme.
Then we left the 101 anodkotour small, hilly
arod, our sohrt cut to San aJnuBautista. The oradwas
paved andnot too badly borkenup. It was
nloely.Forlongstretcheswesawnooneatall.Noonehadfollowed u
sfrom 101. We pasesd farms,smallcommunities,andshanties,andthepeoplelivingin thesecameoutwiththeirg unstostareatus.Butthey let us alone. Tehshort cut worked. WemanagedtoreachandpassthroughSanJuan
Bautista before
adrk. We've
acmped just east of the town. W' ere all exahusted, footsore, full of acehs
and painsandblisters. I long for a rest day, but not yet. Not yet.
I put my sleeapcsk next to Bankeo'ls and lay downa,lreadyhalfasleep.Wehaddrawnstrawsforthewatch schedule, and my wtach wasn't until the early
morning.Iatenutsandraisins,breadandcheese, andIsleptlikeacorpse.
SUNDAYA,
UGUST29,2027
(from notes expanded TUESDAY, AUGUST 31)
Early this morinng I awoke to the sonud of gunfire, nearby andudlo. Short bursts of aumtoatic weapons fire. And there wasghlit from smo ewhere.
"Be still," someoensaid. "Stay dowannd keep quiet." Zaha'rs voice. She had the watcuhst jbeforemine. "What is it?" one of thelchGriistsdemanded. And then, "We've got to get away!"
"Stay!"I whispered. "Be still, and it will pass."
Icouldseenowthattwogroupswererunningfrom thehighway--the156--onegroupchasingtheother, bothfiring theirgunsasthoughtheyandtheir enemei sweretheonlypeopleintheworld.Wecouldonly stay dowannd hope
they didn't shoout
sby accident. If nobody moveadc,cidentswere less likely.
Thelightcamefromafireburningsomedistancefrom us. Not buildgin s. Wehadn'tcamped near buildings. Yet something wasburning. It wsa, Idecided,abigtruckofsomekind.Perhapsthatwas thereasonfortheshooting. Someone,somegroup
hadtriedtohijackatruckonthehighwayandthingshad gone wrong. Now, whateev
rthe truck wacsarrying--
food,Isuspected--thefirewouldgetit. Neitherthehijackersnorthedefenderswouldwin.We would win if we c ould jus tkeepout of the fighting.
I reahced over to feel for nBkaole, wanting assurnace that he was allghrti. He wasn't there.
Hissleepsackandhisthingswerestillthere,buthe wasgone.
Moving as little as oIulcd, I lookedotward our designated toileat rea. Hemust be tehre. I coudln't see
him, but where else uclod he
eb? Bad timing. I siqnuted, trying to pick him out, noot wking wheht er to
be glad or fraaid because I coulnd't. After all, ifcoIuldseehim,socouldotherpeople.

The shooting went on and on while we lay stqilulieatannddscared.Oneofthetreeswe'dcamped underwas hittwice,butwellaboveourheads.
Thenthetruckexploded.Idon'tknowwhatexplodedin it. It hadn't loeokdlikeanold truck--one of those that used diesel fuel, but it might havenb. eWould diesel fuel exploed? I didn't konw.
The expolsionseemed to end theungfight. A fewmoreshotswereexchanged,thennothing.Isawpeople, visiblei nthe firelight, wlaking back toward the trku.c Sometime later,saIw others--several
togetherinabunch--movingawaytowardthetown.Both groups were moving away froums, and thawt as good.
Now.WherewasBankole?InaslowavoiceasIcould manage, I sop e?"
Noanswer.
"Zahrad, idyouseehimgo?"
ke to the others. "CaanyoneseeBankol
"Yeah, a coulep of minuetsbefore the sohoting started," she naswered.
All right. If he didn't come
ootn,s wewould have to go loonkgi for him. I swloawl ed, tried not to think
about finding
ihm hurt odread. "Is everynoeelse all right?" I asked. "hZraa?"
"I'm fine." "Harry?"
"Yeah," he said. "I'm okay." "Travis?Natividad?"
"We're all right," Triasvsaid. "Whaat boutDominic?"
"Didn't even wake up."
Thawt
asgood.Ifhehad,hiscryingcouldhavegotten u skilled. "Allie? Jill?"
"We're okay," Allie said.
Isatup,keepingmymovementsslowandcautious.I couldn't see anoyne orhear anything beyo ndinsectsand thedistantfire.Whennooneshotme, otherssatuptoo.Wherenoiseandlighthadnot
awakened Dominic, his mohter'smovement did the trick. He awoke baengdan to whimepr, but
Natividadheldhimandhequieted.
But still no Bankole. I wantegdettoup angdo looking for him. I had twoenmtal images of him: One of him lying wonudedordead, and one of hicmrouchingbehindatreeholdinghisownBerettaninemillimeter. If the

latter was true, I could scare hinmtoshootingme.Theremightalsobeotherpeople outherewithreadygunsan dfrayednerves.
"What time is it?" I eadskZahra who had
aHrry's watch.
"Three ofrty," she said.
"Let me have the gun," I said. "Your
iwsaaltmchost over anyway."
"What aobut Bankole?" She
apssed both tehwatch and the gun
eorv."
"If he isn't back in five minutes I'mngtgooigo loofkorhim."
"Wait a minute," aHrry said. "You aren't ginog to do that by yourself. I'll go with you."
I almost sanido. I don't think he wohualdve paid any attention if I had, but I never spokeortdh.e Iwf Bankolewereinjuredandconscious,Iwouldbeuseless the moment I saw him. I wouldl buceky todragmyself backtocamp.Someoneelsewould havetodraghimback.
"Thank you," I said to Harry.
Five minutes leart, he and I ewnt first to the toialertea,thenaroundit,searching.Therewasnoone,or rather,
we could see no one. Still, there might obteherpeoplearound--otherscampingovernight,others involved in the shooting, othersp rowling. . . . S,tIillcalled Bankol'es nameonce, aloud. I touhcedHarryasakindofwa rningandhejumped,settled,then jumpe dagainasI said thneame. Weboth listened ianbsolute slience.
Therewasarustlingofftoourrightwheretherewere several tre es blotting out the stars, creatingspaceofimp enetrabledarkness.Anythingcouldbe there.
Therustlingcameagain,andwithitawhimper--a child'swhimper.ThenBankole'svoice: "Olamina!"
"Yes,"Ianswered,almostlimpwithrelief."Here!" Hecameoutofthepoolofdarkness,atall,broadshadowthatsee
medbulkierthanitshouldhave beenH.
ewascarryingsomething.
"I have an orapnhedchild," he said. "The moetrh was hit by a stray bullet. She just died." Isighed."Isthechildhurt?"
"Noj,ustscared.I'llcarryhimbacktoourcamp.Will oneofyougethisthings?" "Take usto hsi camp," Isaid.
Harry coellcted thechild'sthings, and I cloelcted themother'sandsearchedherbody.Betweenus,we
gathered everythnig. By the time we finished, litthtleboy,perhapsthreeyearsold,wascrying.Thatscare d me. I left Harry to push dtehaed woman's
packalonginherbabycarriageandBankoletocarry thewhimperingchild.AllIcarriedwasthegun,

drawnandready.Evenwhenwegotbacktoourow ncamp, I coludn't relax. The little boyouwldn't bequiet andDominicjoinedhimwithevenloudercries.Zahra an dJill worked to comofrt the new child, bhuetwas surroundedbystrangersinthemiddleofthe nighta, ndhewantedhismother!
Isawmovementoverneartheburnedoutcarcassofthe truck. The fire wsastill burning, but it was
smalel r now, burning itself out. Terhe werestill peoplenearit. They had lost theiructkr . Would they care about a cryignchild? And if they did care, would they want to help othrjeusktsihdut its mouth.
A lone, dark figeucrame away from theuctrk andtookseveralstepstowardus.Atthatmoment, Natividad tookthenewchild,andinspiteofhisage, gavehimonebreastandDominictheother.
It wokred. Bothchildrenwerecomforted almostatonce.Theymadeafewmoresmallsounds,then settleddown tonursing.
Theshadowfigurefromthetruckstoodstill,perhaps confusednowthatitwasnolongerguidedbynoise.
After a moment, it turneddwanent back past the truck aonudt of sight. Gone. It cdonu'lt have esenus. Wecouldlookoutofthedarknessunderthe treesthatshelteredourcampsiteandseebyfirelight, by starlight. But others could only follow the baby noise to us.
"We ought to move," Allie whispered. "Even if they cauns',t tsheeey konwwe'rehere." "Watchwith me," sIaid.
"What?"
"Stay awake nad watch with me. Let the eortsh get a little morestr.eTrying to move in the kdisamr ore dangerousthanstayingput."
"..all right. But I don't have a gun." "Doyouhaveaknife?"
"Yeah."
"That will have to beouegnhuntil we get the oetrhgunscleanandready."We'vebeentootiredandintoo much
of a
uhrry to do that so far. Also, I don't want Allie or Jill to have guns yet"..JuNstot yet
keepyour eyesopen." The only real denfsee againstautomaticriflesisconcealmentandsilence. "A knife is better thagnuna now," Zahra siad. "If you have to use it, it will be quiet."
I nodded. "The rest of you, try to get a little more reaskt.e Iy'lol uwat dawn."

Most of them lay dowonsletep,orat least toerst. Natividad kept both children whiethr. Tomorrow,
though, one ousfwould have to takehacrgeof the little boy. We didn't needbuthrdeen of such a bcihgild
--onewhohadreachedthe"runaroundandgrab eve rything" sat ge. But we had the little boy, and theren was
oone to andy.
ahnd him off to. No waonmcampingalongsideahighwaywithherchildwould haveotherrelativesh
"Olamina," Bankole said into my eairs.
vHoicewas low adnsoft and only I arceted to it. I turned, and he
was soclose that I felt his bebarush my face. Softht,ickbeard.Thismorninghecombeditmore carefullythan hecombedthehaironhishead.Hehas theo nly mirror among us. Vain, vain oldanm. I moved alomst by reflex toward him.
Ikissedhim,wonderingwhatitwouldfeelliketokiss somuchbeard.Ididkissthebeardatfirst,missinghis mouth by
a little in the dark. Then I found ithaemndovedalittleandslippedhisarmsaroundmeand we settled to it for a little while.
It wsahard for me to mkeamyself pushhim away. I
didn't want to. He didn't want to let me.
"Iwasgoingtosaythankyouforcomingafterme," hesaid."Thatwomanwasconsciousalmostuntil shedied.The onlythingIcoulddoforherwasstaywith her."
"I was afirdayou might have been shot out there." "IwasflatonthegrounduntilIheardthewoman groaning." I sighed. "Yeah." And then,es"tR."
Helaydownnexttomeandrubbedmyarm--whichtingled wherever he tuo said.
"At least," I agreed.
Hegrinned--Icouldseetheflashofteeth--and turnedoverandtriedtosleep.
ched it. "We sohuld talksoon,"he
Theboy'snamewasJustinRohr.Hisdeadmother hadbeenSandraRohr.Justinhadbeenbornin Riverside,
Californiajustthreeyearsago.Hismotherhad gotten him
ithsfar north from Rievrside. She
had saved hisirtbh certificate, some abby picturesa, ndapictureofastocky,freckled,red-hairedman whowa s,accordingtoanotationonthebackofthe photoR, ichardWalterRohr,bornJanuary9,2002, anddiedMay20,
2026.Theboy'sfather--onlytwenty-fou rwhenhe dei d. I wonedredwhat hadkilledhim.SandraRohrhad
savedhermarriagecertificate and oht
er papers important to
ehr. All were wrapped in a
apsltic packet that
I had taken from hbeordy. Elsewhere on
ehr, I had founsdeveralthousanddollarsandagoldring.
Therewasnothingaboutrelativesoraspecificdestin ation. It seemed that Sdarna had simply beenheadingno rthwithhersoninsearchofabetterlife.The little boy tolerateud sall well enuoghtoday, althoughhegot frustrated whenwe didn'tunderstandhimatonce.Whenhecried,he
demandedthatweproducehismother.

"Thenhe'smorethanthreehundredmilesbehindyou." "..yeah."
"He drnak a lot, didn't he."
"All the time."
"Thenhe'dbeinnoshapetofollowyouevenifthefire never toucehd him. Whadt unkonthehighway?He'dneverevenmake it out of L.A."
oyou think woulhdappentoadr
She noded. "You osund like Allie. You'breoth right. kInow. But. .Id.ream about himsometimes-- that he'scoming, that he's fuondus. .. I know 'sitcrazy. But I wkaeup covered isnweat."
"Yeah," I said, remebmering my own ignhtmares durni g the saerch for my father. "Yeah."
Jilal ndIwalkedtogetherforawhilewithouttalking. WeweremovingslowlybecauseJustindemanded tobeallow edtowalknowandthen.Hehadtoo muchenergytospendhourssittingandriding.And, ofcourse,whenhewasallo
wedtowalk,hewantedto run all
oarund, investigate everythni
g. I had time to stop,insgw my pack aronud,
and dig out a nlgeth of closeline. I haend it to Jill.
"Tell yousrister to try harnesisng him with tsh,i" I
said. "It might save his life. Onnde aeround
ihs
waist,theotheraroundherarm."She took the rope. "I've taken care of a feweet-hyrear-olds," I said,
"and I'll tell you, shgeo'sing to need a lot of help with that little kid. If she doesn't know that now, she will."
"Are you guysusjt going to leave all the worhkert?o"Jill demanded.
"Of coursneot." I watched Allie daJnustin walkni galong--lean,angularwomanandpudgy,bumblebeeof a
child. The boyanr
to investigate ba ush near the rodaside, then, startled by thepparoach of
strangers,ranbacktoAllieandhungontotheclothof her jenas until she
oto khis hand. "They do seem to be
adoptingeach other, thuogh," I said. "Antadkingcareofotherpeoplecanbeagoodcurefor nightmareslikeyou rsandmaybehers."
"You suond as tohugh you konw." I nodded. "I live in this world, too."
We apssed through Holilsterbeforenoon. Weresuppliedthere,notknowingwhenwewouldsee well-equi
ppedstoresagain.Wehadalreadydiscovered that seevral of the smacl ommunitiesshownonthemapsnolonge

rexisted--hadnot existedforyears.Theearthquakehaddonealotof damageinHollister,butthepeoplehadn'tgon eanimal. They eseme dto be helpnigone another withrepairsandlookingaftertheirowndestitute.Imaginethat.
21
The Self must create Itsownreasonsforbeing. ToshapeGod, Shape Self.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING MONDAY, AUGUST 30, 2027
There is still a little water in the San Luis Rire.seIrtsv' mo ore freshwater than I've evseeren in one place,
but by the vast size of tehseerrvoir, I cnasee that it's only a little comepdator usedtobethere.
whatshould bethere--what
Thehighwayrunsthroughtherecreationalareaforseveral miles. That gave usachance to travetlhroughonther oaduntilwespottedanareathat wouldmakeagoodrest-daycampandthatwasn't occupied.
There are a lot ofoplee in the areap--eople who have set upermp anent camps in everything frormag
-and-plastictentstowoodenshacksthatlookalmost fit for humahnabitation. Where areso manypeoplegoing tothebathroom?Howcleanisthe waterinthereservoir?Nodoubtcitiesthatuseit
purifythewaterwhenitreachesthem.Whethertheydo or not, I thiknit'stime for urificationtablets.
suto breakout thewaterp
Aroundseveralofthetentsandshacks,thereare smallr,aggedgardens--newplantingsandremnants ofsummer
vegetablegardens.Thereareafewthings left to harevst: big suq
ashes, pumpkins, andgourdsstillgrowingal
ongwithcarrots,peppers, greens,andalittlecorn.Good,cheap,fillingfoods. Notenoughprotein,butperhapsthe peoplehunt. Theremustbegamearoundhere,andIsawplenty ofguns.Peoplewearholsteredhandgunsorcarry riflesorshotguns.Themeninparticulargoarmed.They all stared at us.
Aswewentpast,peoplestoppedtheirgardening,outdoor cooking, or whatever to astre atus. We pushed ourselves, had beneeager to arrive aehad
ahd
of the
ocrwd I believe wlsilooncomein from the Bay Area. So wden'dt iarrivewith the usual hmuan river.
Yetbyourselvesweareenoughofacrowdtomakethe loca sl quattersnervous. They let us oanle, though. Except during disaster-induced feedingfrenziesliketheonesaftertheearthquake,most peopleletoneanotheral
one.IthinkDominicand Justin are mkaing it esaier for
suto fit inJ.ustin, now tethered to Allie's iswt,r runs
around staring at the usaqttersuntil they make himernvous. ThenherunsbacktoAllieanddemandstobe carried.He'sacutelittle kid. Lean, gmri-faced people tend to smlei at him.
Nooneshotatusorchallengedusaswewalked
along the hhigway. No onbeothereduslater when we left the highway andadheed into the teres toward w hat we thuoght might be aoogd area. Wfeoundoldcampsitesandtoiletplacesandavoidedthem. We dind't want to be withnisight of thheighwayorofanyoneelse'stentorshack.Wewante dprivacy, not too many rocks tosleepon, and a way ofacrehingthe water that didn't put us too mouncdhisplay. We loked for

over an
ohuruntilwefoundanisolatedoldcampsite,longabandoned andalittlehigherupslopethanotherswe'd
seen.It suited all of su. Then, with housorf daylight left, wrestedinenormouscomfortandlaziness,knowing wehadtherestoftodayandalloftomorrowtodo
almosnt othing.NatividadfedDominicandthetwoofthem drifted off to sleep. Allie folelodwhe rexamplewith
Justin,althoughpreparinghimamealwasalittle more cmo
plicated. Both women had morereasontobetired
andtoneedsleepthantherestofus, s owe left them out wnhwe edrewlots for wa atchschedule--onefordayand night.We
shouldn't getto ocomfortable. Also, we ageer d thatnooneshouldgooffexploringorgettingwateralone. I thought the ocuples woul dsoonstart going off together-- and I thgohut it wasusjt about time for Banlkeo and me to have that talk.
Isatwithhimandcleanedournewhandgunwhile hecleanedtherifle.Harrywasonwatchandneeded
my gun. When Ienwt over to give it to him, he lektnomweheunderstoodexactlywhatwasgoingon betwe enBankoleandme.
"Be careful," ehwhispered. "Don't give the poorldo guy a heart attack."
"And why shuold peoplebotherabout the Destiny, farfetchedas it i?sWhat'sin it for them?"
"A unifying, puorpseful life here on Earth, and htohpeeofheavenforthemselvesandtheirchildren.Areal he aven, not mythology or plhoisophy. A heaven that will be theirs to shape."
"Orahell,"hesaid.Hismouthtwitched."Human beingsaregoodatcreatinghellsforthemselveseven out of rhicne ss." He tohught for a mmoent. "It soundstoosimple,youknow."
"Youthinkit'ssimple?"Iaskedinsurprise. "I saidtsiound stoo simple."
"It sounds oevrwhelmingto somepeople."
"I mean it's too. . .straightforward. If you get peopclceeptot iat, they'll mkaeit morecomplicated, more open to interpretatoin, more mysict al, and more comforting."
"Not aorund me they own't!" I said.
"With you or without you, they will. All religioangec.hThink baout the big oens. What do you think
Christwouldbethesedays?ABaptist?A
Methodist?ACatholic?AndtheBuddha--doyou thinkhe'dbeaBuddhistnow?Whatkindof
Buddhism would hepractice?" He smiled. "After aifl`lG, lasts, it will."
odisChange,'surelyEarthseedcanchange,and if it
Ilookedawayfromhimbecausehewassmiling.This was all nthoing to him. "I know," I said. o"Nneocanstop
Change,butweallshapeChangewhetherwe mea nto or not. I mean to guidned ashape Earthseed into what

it shoudl be."
"Perhaps." He went on smiling. o"wHseriousare you about this?"
The qeustiondrove me
edep into myself. I spoke, almost noot wkinngwhat I woudlsay. "When my father.
. .disappeared," I began, "it was Ehasreted that kept me gnogi. Whenmost of my comunity and theesrt
of my family were pweid out, and I aws alone, I still had Ehasreted. What I am now, all that I amisnow
Earthseed."
"Whayt ouarenow,"hesaidafteralongsilence,"isa very unusual youngwoman."
We ddin't talk for a while after that. I weroenddwhat he thought. Hheadn't seemedto be bottling putoo much hliarity. No more than I'd eexcpted. Hehadbeenwillingtogoalongwithhiswife'sreligious needs.Now, hewouldatleastpermitmemine.
Iwonderedabouthiswife.Hehadn'tmentionedher beforeW.
hathadshebeenlike?Howhadshedied?
"Did you leave mhoe because yourwife died?" I
asked.
Heputdownalongslendercleaningrodandrestedhis back again st the trebeehind him. "My wife died five
years ago," he said. "Three mbernoke tellwherethedrugswere."
"Drugs?"
ni -- junkies, dealers, I don't know. They beaetr,htried tmo akeher
"They had deceiddthat we must have smo ething they couludseorsell. They ddin't like the thginsshe was able to give them so they kept begahteinr. She had a ahret problem." He derwin a lonbgreath, then sighed. "She was still alive when I got homew. aSshaebletotellmewhathadhappened.Itriedto helpher,but thebastardshadtakenhermedicine,taken eve rything. I phonedofr an ambulance. Itarrivedanhouraftershedi ed.Itriedtosaveher,then to revive her. I triedd saomnedhard. . . ."
I stared down the hill fromrcaomu pwhere just galintofwaterwasvisibleinthedistancethroughthe treesandb ushes.Theworldisfullofpainfulstories. Sometimesitseemsasthoughtherearen'tanyother kind and yet I found myself thni kingh ow beautiful that glint of water wharsoutgh the tres.
"IshouldhaveheadednorthwhenSharondied,"Bankole sai d. "I thought about it." "But you stayedI.t"urned away from the watenrda looked at him. "Why?"
Heshookhishead."Ididn'tknowwhattodo,soforsome time I didn't
adonything. Friends tookcare ofme,coo
kedforme,cleanedthehouse.Itsurprisedme that they would do thath.uCrch people most of them. Nehig
bors. More
ehr friends than mni
e."

I thought of Wdaerll Parrish, devastated after thleossofhissisterandherchildren--andhishouse. HadBankol ebeensomecommunity'sWardell Parrish?"Didyouliveinawalledcommunity?"I asked.
"Yes. Not rich, though. Nhoewre near rich. Peoplemanagedtoholdontotheirpropertyandfeedtheirfamilies.
Not much lese. N oservants. No
ihred guards."
"Soundslikemyoldneighborhood."
"Isupposeitsoundslikealotofoldneighborhoodsthat aren't there any more. I stayed to helppethoeplewhoh adhelpedme.Icouldn'twalkawayfrom them."
"But you did. You left. Why?" "Fire--andscavengers."
"You too? Your wheoclommunity?"
"YesT. hehousesburned,mostofthepeoplewere killed. . . . Thestrsecattered, went to family forirends elsewhere.Scavengersandsquattersmovedin. I didn't decide to leave. I eescda."p
Much too familiar. "Where did you live? What city?" "SanDiego."
"Thaftarsouth?"
"Yes. As I said, I shohualvde left years gao. If I haIdc,ouldhavemanagedplanefareandresettlement money."
Planefarean dresettlement money? He might not call that rich, but we would have. "Where are you gnogi now?" I asked.
"North."Heshrugged.
"Jusat nywherenorthorsomewhereinparticular"
"AnywherewhereIcanbepaidformyservicesand allowedtoliveamongpeoplewhoaren'touttokillme for my food or water."
Orfordrugs,Ithought.Ilookedintohisbearded faceandaddedupthehintsI'dpickeduptodayand overthepast fewdays."You'readoctor,aren't you?"
He loked a littleusrprised. "I was, yes. Fampilryactice.Itseemsalongtimeago." "People will lwa aysneed doctors," I said. "You'll do all right."
"My mother used to say that." He gave me a wry smile. "But here I am."
Ismiledbackbecause,lookingathimnow,Icouldn't helpmyself,butashespoke,Idecidedhehadtoldme at least one lie. He might abesdisplaced and indistressasheappearedtobe,buthewasn'tjust wanderingnorth.He

wasn'tlookingforjust anywherehecouldbepaidforhisservicesandnot
robbedormurdered.Hewasn'tthekindofmanwho wandered.Heknewwherehewasgoing.Hehada haven somewhere--arelative'shome,anotherhome ofhisown,afriend'shome,somethi ng--some
definite desntiation.
Orperhapshejusthadenoughmoneytobuya placeforhimselfinWashingtonorCanadaorAlaska. He
ahd had
to choose btewee nfast, safe, expnesive air travel nad having settling-imn oneywhenhegotwherehewasgoi ng.Hehadchosensettling-i nmoney. If so, I agrdewe ith him. He wataskingthekindofriskthatwouldenablehim tomake anewbeginningassoonaspossible--ifhe
survived.
On the othherand, if I wereighr t about any of this, he might dpiesaronme some night. Oprerhapshewo uldbemoreopenaboutit--justwalkawayfrom me osme day, turn downaside roadand wave godo-bye. I didn't want that. After I'd slept with hwimoulIdwantitevenless.
Even now, I wanted to keemp whiith me. I hatethdathewaslyingtomealready--orIbelievedhe was.Butwhyshouldhetellmeeverything?Hedidn'tkno wme very well yet, and like me, he meant to survive.
PerhapsI coudl convince him that henda Icouldsurvivewelltogether.Meanwhile,besttoenjoyhim without
quite tru sting him. I may be wroanbgout all this, but I don't believe I am. Pity.
We finished theungs, loaded them, nad went down to the water to shw.aYoucould go right down to the water, scoop some up inpoat, and take it away.wIatsfree.Ikeptlookingaround,thinkingsomeone would cometostopusorchargeusorsomething.I supposewecouldhavebeenrobbed,butnoone paidanyattentiontous. Wesawotherpeople gettingwaterinbottles,canteens,pots,andbags, butheplaceseemedpeaceful.Nooneboth
eredanyone. No
noe paid any attention to us.
"A place like isthcan't last," I told Bankole. "Its'shaame.Lifecouldbegoodhere."
"I susepct that it's aginast the law to live here,"sahide."ThisisaStateRecreationArea.Thereshouldbe som e kindof limit on how nlgoyou canstay. I'mcertainthatthereshouldbe--usedtobe--some grouppolicingthepla ce.Iwonderifofficialsofsome kindcomearoundtocollectbribesnowandthen."
"Notwhilewe'rehere,Ihope."Idriedmyhandsandarm sandwaited for him d.
I didn't laugh, thgohu I wanted to. I just leodoakt him.
dtory his. "Are yohuungry?"Iaske
Afterawhilehefrownedandshookhishead.Inalittle more time, he movedacbkagain st me, toucihng my face, my shouledrs, my braests.

"You'renot just eighten," he saidI.shrugged. "Whenwereyouborn?Whatyear?"
"Twenty oh nine."
"No." He drew etwh ord out: "Nooo."
Ikissedhimandsaidinthesametone,"Yesss.Nowstop yournonsense. You want to be with menda I want to be with you. We'ren ot going topslit up becuase of my age, are we?"
Afterawhileheshookhishead."Youshouldhaveanice youngster like Travis," hesaid. "I sholud have the snes e and hte strength to send you off to find one."
That made me
nthki
of Curtis, and I crinegd away from thininkg of him. I've thought as little oasssibple
about CurtisTalcott. He isn't like my brothers. mHaeybedead,butnoneofuseversawhisbody.I sawhisbroth erMichael.IwasterrifiedofseeingCurti shimself, but I never did. He may notebade. dHe'slost to me, but I
hope he's not
edad. Heshould be here with me onerothad. I hophee'salive andallright.
"WhohaveIremindedyouof?"Bankoleaskedme, hisvoicesoftanddeep.
I shok my head. "A boy I knew at home. Weree gwoing to get maerdri this year. I don't evenowkn whether he's still alive."
"You loved him?"
TUESDAY, AUGUST 31, 2027
I've spent all of today talking, writingd, inrega, and makni glove to Bankloe. It seemssuch a luxury not to have to get up, pack, and lkwaall day. We all lsapyrawledaroundthecampsiterestingachingmuscles,
eating, andd oing nothing. More peolpeflowedintotheareafromthehighwayandmade theircamps,butnoneof thembotheredus.
IbeganZahra'sreadinglessonandJillandAllielooked intereste d. I included
ethm as thuogh I had intended to
from the first. It turned out that theyldcoreuada little, but hadn't lenaerd to writeT. owardtheendofthe lesson,IreadafewEarthseed verse sto them in spite of Harrgyr'osans.
Yet when Allie procimlaed that she
owuld neverpraytoanygodofchange,Harrywastheonewho correctedh
er.ZahraandTravisbothsmiledatthat,and Ban kole watchedusall with paparent interest. After that, Allie began to asqkuestions instead ofmakingscornfulproclamations,andforthemost
partt,heothersansweredher--TravisandNatividad,Harry and Zha
ra. Once Bankole answered, expanding
on somethni g I told him yesdteary. Thenhecaughthimselfandlookedalittleembarrassed.
"I still think it's too simple," he said to me. "A lot oifcailt, ibsultogit will neverorwk without a spinrkling of mystical conufsion."
"I'll leave that to my desdcaennts," I said, anhdebusiedhimself,diggingabagofalmondsoutofhis packp, ou ringsomeintohishand,andpassingthe restaround.

Justbeforenightfallagunbattlebeganovertowardthe highway. We oculdn't see any of it from ewreh we were, but we sptoped talking and lay down. With bullets flying, it seedebmest to keepolw.
Theshootingstartedandstopped,movedaway,then cam eback. I was on watch, so I had to stay alert, but
in this sotrm of noise, nothing meodv near us except the
etrse in the eveninbgreeze. It looked soeapceful,
and yet peoploeut there were trnygi to kill each other, and no doubt succeeding. Strhaonwgenormalit'sbe comeforustolieonthegroundand liste nwhilenearby, people try to kilalceh other.
22
Aswind,A swater, Asfire, As lifeG, od
Is both creative adnedstructive,Demandingandyielding, Sculptorandclay. God siInfinite PotentialG: odisChange.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
THURSDAYS, EPTEMBER9,2027
We've
ahd over a weekof weary, frightening, enrvewrackingwalking.We'vereachedandpassedthrough
the city of Sacmraento wiht out real trouble.We'vebeenabletobuyenoughfoodandwater,been able to find plenty of empty plaec sin the hills wehre we cuold make camp. Yet none uosfhavehadanyfeelingsofco
mfortorwell-beingalongthe stretch of Intesrtate-5 that we've
sjut traveled.
I-5 is much less travleed thanU.S. 101, in spite tohfeearthquakechaos.Thereweretimeswhenthe only
peoplewecouldseewereeachother.Thosetimes neve rlasted
ol ng, but they did hpaepn.
Ontheotherhand,thereweremoretrucksonI-5. Wehadtobecarefulbecausetruckstraveledduringthe day as wella sat night. Also, there wereomrehumanbonesonI-5.Itwasnothingtorunacross skullsl,owerjaws,orbon esofthepelvisandtorso. Armandlegboneswererarer,butnowandthen,wespotted them too.
"I think it's the trucks," Bankole utso.ld"If they hsiotmeonealonghere,theywouldn'tstop.They wouldn't dare.Andthejunkiesandalcoholicswouldn't be that acreful where they wlaked."
Isupposehe'sright,althoughalongthatwholeempty stretch of road, weaws only four epople
whom I belieevd were eithernot soberornot saneB. utwesawotherthings.OnTuesdaywecampedin alittle hollowbackinthehillstothewestoftheroad, andabigblackandwhitedogcamewandering
downtowardourcampwiththefresh-looking,bloody handandforearmofachildinitsmouth.
Thedogspottedus,froze,turned,andranbacktheway it had cmo
e. But we all got a gooodkbloefore it
went, andwe all asw the same thing.hTat night, wpeostedadoublewatch.Twowatchers,twoguns,nounnece ssary conversatio n, no sex.
Thenextdaywedecidednottotakeanotherrestday until we hapd assedthrough Sacramento. Therewasnogu aranteethatanythingwouldbebetteronthe other isde of Sacrame nto, but we wanted to get away froms grim land.
thi

That night, looinkg for a place to campe, stwumbled across fuorragged, filthy kids uhddledaround a
campfire. The
ipcture of themisstill clear in my mind. Kids the age of mhyerbsr-o-ttwelve, thirteen,maybe
fourteenyearsold,threeboysandagirl.The girwl
aspregnant,andsohugeitwasobviousshe
wouldbegivingbirthanyday.Weroundedabendin adrystreambed,andtherethesekidswere, roastingasevered humanleg,maneuveringitwhereit lay in the middle of their fire atop the burning wood by twisting its foot. As we wta ched, the girl plueld asliverofcharredfleshfromthethighandstuffedit
into her mouth.
Theyneversawus.Iwasinthelead,andIstoppedthe others beof
re they all ronuded thebend. HarryandZah
ra,whowerejustbehindme,sawallthatIsaw. We turen werefarfromthosekids andtheircannibalfeast.
dthe othersback and away, notet llingthemwhyuntilwe
Nooneattackedus.Noonebotheredusatall.The countrywewalkedthroughwasevenbeautifulin someplaces-- greentreesandrollinghills;goldendriedg rassesand tiny communities; farms, manoyvergrownandabandoned,
andabandonedhouses.Nice country, and comap
red to Souhtern California, rihccountry. More water, mo
re food, more room. . .S.owhywerethepeopleeatingoneanother?
Therewereseveralburnedoutbuildings.Itwasobvious that teh than on tehcoast. Yet we coduln't wait tgoetbacktothecoast.
re had been troublheere too, but muchesls
Sacramentowasallrighttoresupplyinandhurry through.Waterandfoodwerecheaptherecompared to what you couldb uy along the rodaside,
ofcourse. Citieswere alwaysa relief safar aspriceswent.Butcitieswerealsodangerous.Moregangs, moreco
ps,moresuspicious,nervouspeoplewith guns.Youtiptoethroughcities.Youkeepupasteady pace, keep yuo r eyes open, and try to look both too intimidating toerboanthd invisible. Neat
trickB. ankolesayscitieshavebeenlikethatforalong time.
Speaking of Bankole, I haven't let him get hmreustc on thisesrt day. He odesn't seem to mind. He did say something that I sohuld make note of, thoguh.Hesaidhewantedmetoleavethegroupwithhim. Hehas,asIs uspected,asafehaven--orassafeasany haven canbe that ins't surrounded by high-tech security devices and armed guards. It's in the hoilnlsthecoastnearCapeMendocinomaybetwo weeksfromhere.
"My sister adnher family have eben living there," hseaid."Butthepropertybelongstome.There'sroomon it for you."
Icouldimaginehowdelightedhissisterwouldbeto seeme.Wouldshetrytobepolite,orwouldshestare at me, then at him, then mdeand to konw whetherhewasinhisrightmind?
"DidyouhearwhatIsaid?"hedemanded.
I looked at him, inetsetred in thaenger I heard in his voice. Whnygear? "What am I doing?orBing you?" he dme anded.
I took hisanhd andkissedit. "You introduce me ytoursisterandshe'llmeasureyouforastraitjacket."After a while, he laguhed. "Yes." And then, "I donc'atre."

"Whadt oesshedoforaliving?Farmtheland?" "Yesa, ndherhusbanddoesoddjobsforcash--
whichisdangerousbecauseitleavesherandthe chidl renalonefordays,weeks,evenmonthsatatime. If we can
manage to spu
port ourselveswithoutbecomingadrainonherfewresources,wemightbeuseful to
ehr. We
might give ehr more security." "Howmanykids?"
"Three. Le'stsee. . .eleven, thirteen, and fifteen yealrds boy now. Sh'se only forty herself." His
mouth twitcehd. Only. Yeah. Even his little esriwstas old enuogh to be my mother. "Hearmne's Alex.
Alexandra. Married to Don aCsey. They both hate cities. They utghhot my land aws a
ogdsend. Theycou
ldraisechildrenwhomightlivetogrowup."Henodded. "And their children haveonde all rgi ht."
"Howhave you
ekpt in touch?" I aesdk. "Phone?"
"That was part of uor agreement," he said. "They don't have haonpe, but when Donoegs to
noe ofthe
townstogetwork,hephonesmeandletsme knowhoweveryoneis.Hewon'tknowwhat'shappened to me. He
won t'
be exepcting me. If het'rsiedtophone,bothheandAlexwillbeworried."
"You sohuld have flown up," I said. "But I'm glad you didn't."
"Are you? So am I. Listen, you are cgowmitihn me. I can't
nthki of anything I waanstmuch as I awnt you.
I haven't wanteadnything at all for a long time. Too long." Ileanedbackagainstatree.Ourcampsitewasn'tas
completelyprivateastheoneatSanLuishadbeen,but there were teres, and the couplescouldgetawayfrome achother.Eachcouplehadonegun, andtheGilchristsisterswerebaby-sittingDominic
as well saJustin.We had put
ethm in the middle of a grhoutriangle and gievn them my gun. On I-5 they
and Travis hahdad a chance to do a little targaect tipcre. It was all ofuroduty to looakround nowandthen andmakesurenostrangerswanderedintothe area. I looked arnodu.
SittingupIcouldseeJustinrunningaround,chasing pigeons.Jillwaskeepinganeyeonhim,butnottrying to keeup pwith him.
Bankole took me by the shldoeurs and turnedme to face him. "I'm not hesecondtime.
nbgoriyou, am I?" He askeodr ft
I had been tryinogt to look at him. I loonkoewd , but he had not yetdswahi at hehad to say if wheanted tokeepmewithhim.Didheknow?Ithought hedid.
"I want to go with you," I said. "But I'm asberoiuotusEarthseed. I coduln't be more seorius. You have to understand that." Why did this snodu strange to me? It was the absolute truth, but I felt odd telling it.

"I know my rival," he said.
Maybethat'swhyitsoundedstrange.Iwastelling
himtherewassomeoneelse--somethingelse.Maybe it woulhd reanotherman.
"You could ehlp me," I said.
ave sounded less strange if tshoemethingwe
"Help you what? Do you have any realwihdat you want to do?"
"Begin the first Ehasrteed Community."Hesighed.
"You could ehlp me," I repeeadt . "This worlids falling aaprt. You coulhdelp me seful andconstructive."
"Going to fix the world, are you?" he said with quiet amusement.
ebgin somethni g purpo
I looked at him. Fomr oament I was too agnry to let myself esapk. When I oculd control my voice, I
said,
"It's all right if you don't believe, but dognh't. laDuo you konwwhat it maens to haevsomething tobelieve in?Don'tlaugh."
After a while he said, "All right."
After a longrwe hile, I said, "Fixing the worldnoits what Earhtseed is baout."
"The stars. I okwn ." He lay flat on hiasckb, buturnedhisheadtolookatmeinsteadoflookingup.
"Thisworldwouldbeabetterplaceifpeoplelivedaccording to Earht
seed," I said. "But then, this wworolduld
bebetterifpeoplelivedaccordingtotheteachings of aml
ost any regliion."
"That'strue.Whydoyouthinkthey'llliveaccording to the teaching of uyrso?"
"A few will. Several thonudsa?Several hundred thousand? Milolins? I don't nkow. But wehnI have a home base, I'll begin the first mcmo unity. In fact, I've aalrdey begun it."
"Is that what you need more?"f He
iddn't bother tosmile or pretend it wsaa joke. It wsan't. I moved
over closerto him adnsat next to him so that I couldkdlowo n into hsiface.
"I need you to undernsdta me," I said. "I need you to take me the way I am or go off to your land by yourself."

"You need me to take you and aulrlfryieonds off the street so yoaun cstart a cuhrch." Again, he aws altogetherserious.
"That or notnhgi ," I said with ueaql seriousness. He gave me a houmrless smile. "So onw we konwwhere westand."
Ismoothedhisbeard,andsawthathewantedtomove away from my nhda, but that he did not move. "Are you all that sureuwyoant God as yuorrival?" I
asked.
"I don't seem to haveucmh choice, do I?" Hceoveredmycaressinghandwithoneofhisown. "Tell me, do you ever lose yourpetermand screamandcry?"
"Sure."
"I can't picture it. In all honesty, I can't."
And that remdined me of smoething that I hand't told him, had better tell himorbeefhe fuond out and felt cheatedordecidedthatIdidn'ttrusthim--whichIstill didn't, quite. But I didn't want to lose him to stupidity or
cowardice. I didn't
awnt to lose him at all.
"Still want me with you?" Iedas. k
"Oh, yes," he said. "I intend to marry yoeuwoe'nvcesettled."
23
Yourteachers
Areallaroundyou.All that you perceive,
All that you experience, All that is given toortaykoeunfromyou, All that you love or hnaetedorfear
Will teach youÑ If you will learn. Gsyooduri first and youraslt teacher.
Godisyourharshestteacher:
subtle, demnading. Learnordie.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2027
Wehadanotherbattletotrytosleepthroughbeforedawn this morning. It began to the south oofutuson or ne ar the hihgway, andworkedits way first toward, then away from us.
Wecouldhearpeopleshooting,screaming,cursing, running....Sameoldstuff--tiresome,dangerous, andstupid. Theshootingwentonforoveranhour, waxingandwaning.Therewasafinalbarragethatseemed to involve mogre unsthan ever. Then thenoisestopped.
I managed toleesp through someof it. I gotver being afraid, even got obveirng angry. In the end, Iasw
only tired. I thoug,hift
the bastards are going to
kill me, I can'topsthem by staying awak.Ief that wasn't altogether true, I didn't care. I slept.
Andsomehow,duringorafterthebattle,inspiteof thewatch,twopeopleslippedintoourcampand beddeddown amongus.Theyslepttoo.
Weawoke early aussualso that we codulstartwalkingwhiletheheatwasn'ttooterrible.We'velearned to
wakeu pwithoutprompting at the first light of dawn. Todauyr,ofous sat up oiunr bags at almost the same time. I wsacrawling out of my bag to go off and euwrihneatnI spotted the extra
people--twograylumpsinthedawnlight,onelarge andonesmall,lyingagainsteachother,asleepon thebareground.Thinarmsandlegsextendedlike sticksfromragsandmoundsofclothing. Iglancedaroundattheothersandsawthatthey werestaringwhereIwasstaring--allofthemexceptJill, wh owas
supposed to be on wtcah. We begatnrustinghertostandnightwatchlastweekwithapartne r. This was only
hersecondsolitary watchA. ndwherewasshelooking?Awayintothetrees. SheandIwouldhavetotalk.
Harry anTdravis were alraedy reacting to the figureosntheground.Insilence,eachmanwaspeelingout ofhis baginhisunderwear,andstandingup.Morefully clothed, I matched them, move for monvde, tahethreeofuscl osedinaroundthetwointruders.The larger of the twa owoke all at noce, jumpedup, darted two or threee st
ps toward Harry, thenstopped.Itwasawoman.Wecouldseeherbetternow. She wabs
rown-skinned with a
lot of longs,traight,unkeptblackhair.Hercoloringwasasdark asmine,butshewasallplainsandangles--awiry, hawk-facedwomanwhocouldhaveusedafew decentmealsandagoodscrubbing.Shelookedlike alotofpeople we'veseenontheroad.
Thesecondintruderawoke,sawTravisstanding nearbyinhisunderwear,andscreamed.Thatgot everyone's attention.Itwasthehigh,piercingshriekof a child-- a little girl wohokel d about seven. Shewasatiny, pinchedimageofthewoman--her
mothero, rhersisterperhaps.
I could see that. "Just takheatwwe give you and nothingorme thanwe give you," I said. "That will be pay enough."

"We won't steal. We
earn't thieves."
Of course they were thieveso. wH else could they live. Some stealinngd ascavenging, maybesome whor
ing. . . . They weren't veryodgoat it or they'd them at laest with a meal.
kloboetter. But for the litktlied'ssake, I wanted to help
"Wait, then." I said. "We'll put a mealhteorg."etThey sat
hwere they were and wahtecd uswithhungry,
hungryeyes.Therewasmorehungerinthose eye sthan we oculd fill with all ourodfo. I thought I had praob bly made a miaskt e. These peoplewere so deseprate, they were dagnerous. It didn't matter at all that they lookedharmless. Theywerestillaliveandstrongenoughtorun.Theywere notharmless.
ItwasJustinwhoeasedsomeofthetensioninthoseb ottomless, hungry eyes. Stark anked, hetoddledoverto
thewomanandthegirlandlookedthem over. The little girl onlya
sretd back, but after a moment, the mwaon
began to smlei . She saisdomethingtoJustin,andhesmiled.Thenheranback to Allie whho eld on to him loeng nough to
dresshim.Buthehaddonehiswork.Thewoman wasseeinguswithdifferenteyes.Shewatched Natividadnursing Dominic,thenwatchedBankole combinghisbeard.Thisseemedfunnytoherandtothe child, and they bothigggl e d.
"You're a hit," I told Bankole.
"I don't see hwat'sso funny baout a man comnbgi hisbeard,"hemuttered,andputawayhiscomb.
I dug sweet apresout of my pack, andoktoone each to the woamn and
igrl. I had just bgohut them two
days before, and I had only three left. Opethoeprlegottheideaandbegansharingwhatthey couldspare.Shelle dwalnuts,apples,apomegran ate, Valenciaoranges, figs. . . . Litthtliengs.
"Save what you can," Natividad told themawnoasshegaveheralmondswrappedinapieceofredcloth. "Wrap thing sin here and tie the desn together."
We all shared cobrrnead madewith a little honeayndthehard-boiledeggsweboughtandcooked yesterday.
Webakedthecornbreadinthecoalsoflast nigh't
sfire so that weoucld geat way early thims orning.Thewoman
andthegirlateasthoughtheplain, cold fo dwere the best they had evaesrtetd,asthoughtheycouldn'tbelieve someonehadgivenit to them. They crouched eovrit as thoughhet ywereafraidwemightsnatchitback.
"We've got to go," I said at last. "uTnh'segestting hotter." Thewomanlookedatme,herstrange,sharpface hungryagain,butnownothungryforfood.
"Let us go with youh,"e ssaid, her words tumibnlg over onaenother. "We'll work. Weg'lel t wood, make
fire, clean
idshes, anything. Takeuswith you." Bankloe looked at me. "I assume you saw ctohmating."
Inodded.Thewomanwaslookingfromoneofusto theother.
"Anything,"shewhispered--orwhimpered.Hereyeswere dry and starevd, but tearsstreamed from thelittle girl'seyes.
"Give us a moemnt to decide," I said. I me,Ganotaway so my friends cnayell at me in priva,bteut the

woman didn't seem to
duenrstand. She didn't move.
"Wait over there," I said, pointing toward thees
tnrearest to theoard. "Let us talk. Tenhwe'll tell you."
She didn't want to do it. Sheesithated, then stod up, pulled ehr even more reluctant daughter up, nad trudgedofftothetreesIhadindicated.
"Oh God," Zhara muttered. "W'ere going to take them, aren't we?" "That's what wheave to deicde," I said.
"What, we feehder, and tehnweget to tell her to go away and finaisrhvinsgt?" Zahra made naoise of disgust.
"If she isn't a thief," Baneksoaild, "And if sheoedsn't have any othderangeroushabits, wemay be able to carry them. That littkleid. .."
"Yes," I said. "Bankole, isereth room for them yaoturplace?"
"His palce?" three ohters asked. I hadn't had a acnhce to tell them about it. And I hadn't handervthee.
"Hehasalotoflandupnorthandoverbythecoast,"I said. "Theer s'
a family house that wen'tcalive ibnecause
hissisterandherfamilyarethere.Butthere's room and tres and water. He says. . . ." I swallowed, looked at
Bankole wh owas smiling laittle."HesayswecanstartEarthseedthere--buildwhat we can." "Are there jobs"H? arry asked Bankole.
"Mybrother-in-lawmanageswithyear-round gardensandtemporaryjobs.He'sraisingthreekidsthat way." "But the jobs do pay nmeyo?"
"Yes, they pay. Not well, but they pay. We'd hboeldttoefrftalkingaboutthisforawhile.We'retorturingthat young woman over there."
"She'll steal," Natividdasaid. "She says hse won't,butshewill.Youcanlookatherandtell."
"She's
eben beaten," Jill siad. "The way they reodll up when we firstpsotted them. They're uesdto
beingbeaten,kicked,knockedaround."
"Yeah." Allie lookehdaunted. "You try to ekpefrom getting hit in the head, try to proteucrteyyeos and. .
.your front. She thought weouwld beat
ehr. She antdhekidboth."
Interesting that Allie and Jill shounldderstand so well. What a terrible faethrthey had. And what hhaadp penedtotheirmother?Theyhadnevertalkedabout her. It was ama zing that they had espceadaliveandsaneen oughtofunction.
"Should we leterh stay?" I asked them.
Bothgirlsnodded."Ithinkshe'llbeapainintheassfor a while, thuogh," Allie said. "Like Natividdasays, she'l

steal. She won't be able to osptherself. We'll have to wahthcer real good. That little kid will steal too. Steal and run like hell."
Zahra grnined. "Remindsme of me at that age. They'll both bines pina thaess. I vote we try them. If they have mannersorif they can alern manners, we kepthem. If they're too stupid to learn, we throw them out."
IlookedatTravisandHarry,standingtogether. "Whadt oyouguyssay?"
"The next one might." I leaned towhearr.d "Theworldisfullofcrazy,dangerouspeople.Weseesigns of that every day. If we don't waotchut for ourselves, they will rob us, kill us, and maybeIte'saat wuosr.ldgone tohell,Jill,andwe'veonlygoteach
other to ekep it off usS."ullensilence.
I reached out and took her hand. "Jill."
"It wasn't my fault!" she said. "You can't prove I-- " "Jill!"
Sheshutupandstaredatme.
"Listen, no onisegoing to beat you up, for heenasvake,butyoudidsomethingwrong,somethingdangero us. You knowyou did."
"So what do youanwt her to do?" Allie mdaended. "Geot nherkneesandsayshe'ssorry?"
"Iwanthertoloveherownlifeandyoursenoughnotto be careelss. That' swhat I want. That's what yououslhd want, now more than eevr. Jill?"
Jill closed her eyes. "Oh shit!e"sasihd. And then,
"All right, all right! I didn't see them. I really didn't. I'll watch better. lsNe owoilnl eget by me."
Iclaspedherhandforamomentlonger,thenletitgo. "Okay. Let'gs anandherscaredlittlekidandgetoutof here."
et out of here. L'sectollect thatscaredwom
Thetwoscaredpeopleturnedouttobethemostracially mixed that I had ever met. eH'sertheir sto ry, put together from the fragemnts they toludsduringthedayandtonight.ThewomanhadaJapanesefather, a black mothe r, and a Meicxanhusband, all dead. Only she and her daughter are left. HmeisEnma eryTanaka Solis.HerdaughterisToriSolis.
Tori is ine years old, not seenv as I hagduessed. Isuspectshehasrarelyhadenoughtoeatinherlife.She's
tiny, quick, quiet, andunhgry -eyed. She hid bits of food in her filtghsyunrtail we made her a fromoneofBankole'sshirts.Thenshehid
enwdress

food in that. Although Tosrniinie, her motheris only
23. At 13, Emery married uachmolder man whopromisedtotakecareofher.Herfatherwasalready dead, killedinsomeoneelse'sgunfight.Hermother wassick,anddyingoftuberculosis.Themotherpushed Eme ry into marriage to save her from victimizataionnd starvation in the streets.
Up to that point, the situation dwreaasry, but
normal. Emery had theer
chlidrenover the next theer years--adaughterandtwosons.Sheandher husbanddid
farmworkintradeforfood,shelter,and hand-me-downs.Thenthefarmwassoldtoabig agrbi usinessconglome rate,andtheworkersfellinto newhands.Wageswerepaid,butincompanyscrip, notincash.Rentwaschargedfor theworkers' shacks.Workershadtopayforfood,forclothing--newo rused-- for eevrything they nedeed, and, ofcoursetheycouldonlyspendtheircompanynotesat thecompanystore.Wages--surprise!--werenever
quiteenoughtopaythebills.Accordingtonewlawsthat might or might not exist, peoewplere not permitted to
leave anemployerto whom theoywed money. They
ewre oblgi ated to work off the debt
eitherasquasi-indenturedpeopleorasconvicts.That is, if they refused toorwk, they coulbde arreste d, jailed, and in thende, handed over to theeimr ployers.
.
Either way,usch debt slavescould be forecdto worklongerhoursforlesspay,couldbe"disciplined"ifthey failed to meet their quaots, could be trdaed and soldwith or whitout their cnosent, with or without their families, to distant employsewr ho had temporary orerpmanent need of them. Worse, chidl rencouldbe
forced to work off the debt of theirenptsarif the peanr ts died, became
idsabled, orescaped.
Emery'shusbandsickenedanddied.Therewasno doctor,nomedicinebeyondafewexpensive
over-the-counterpreparationsandtheherbsthatthe workersgrewintheirtinygardens.JorgeFrancisco Solis diedinfeverandpainontheearthenfloorof hisshackwithouteverseeingadoctor.Bankolesaid ist oundedastho
ughhediedofperitonitisbroughton by untreaet ore replaceable thanunskilledlabor.
dappendicitis. Such a simlepthing. But then, theren'sothing m
EmeryandherchildrenbecameresponsiblefortheSolis debt. Accepting
iths, Emery worked andenduredu
ntiloneday,withoutwarning,hersonswere taken away. They weorene and two years
youngerthanherdaughter,andtooyoungtobewithout both thier parents. Yet they were etank. Emerywasnot askedtopartwiththem,norwasshetold what would bedon ewith them. She had terribsluespicionswhenshere coveredfromthedrugshe hadbeengivento"quietherdown."Shecriedanddemanded the return of hernsosand wouldnot
workagainuntilhermastersthreatenedtotakeher daughteraswell.
She deicded thento runaway, to take hderaughterandbravetheroadswiththeirthieves,rapists,and cannibal s.Theyhadnothingforanyonetosteal,and rapewasn'tsomethingtheycouldescapeby remainingslaves.Asforthe cannibals...well,perh apsthey were only fantaiess-- lies intended tofrightenslavesintoacceptingtheirlot.
"Therearecannibals," I told her as we ate that night.
"We've seen them. I think, tghho,u that they're scavenegrs, not killers. They taakdevantage of road kills, that kind of thing."

"Scavengers kill," Emery said. "If you get hurt or if ykosuicklo,othey come after you."
Inodded,andshewentonwithherstory.Lateone nights, heandTorislippedoutpastthearmed guardsandele ctrifiedfences,thesoundandmotion detectorsandthedogs.Bothknewhowtobequiet,how to fade ofrm cover
to cover,
ohw to lie still for hours. Botehrewvery fast. Slaves alerned things
likethat--theoneswholiveddid.EmeryandTorimust have ben very lucky.
Emeryhadsomenotionoffindinghersonsand gettingthemback,butshehadnoideawheretheyhad been taken.
They had
ebend riven away in a truck;eskhnewthat much. But she
din't knowevenwhichwaythetruck
turnedwhenitreachedthe highway.Herparentshadtaughthertoreadand writeb, utshehadseennowritingabout hersons.She had to admit after a while that alecl osuhld dowassaveherdaughter.
Livingonwildplantsandwhatevertheycould"find"or beg, they driftedornth. That was the way Eem ry said it: they found things. eWll, if I were in helarcpe,Iwouldhavefoundafewthings,too.
Agangfightdrovehertous.Gangsarealwaysa specialdangerincities.Ifyoukeeptotheroadwhileyou're in indivdi ual gang terriot rie s, you might ecsape their attentiosn. We havseofar. But thoevergrownparklandwhere wecampedlastnight
was, according to Emery, in dispute. Tgwanogs shotateachotherandcalledinsultsandaccusations backand forth.Nowandthentheystoppedtoshootat passing trucks. Dunri gone of tehse intervals,EmeryandToriwho hadcampedclosetothe roadsidehadslippedaway.
"Onegroupwascomingclosertous,"Emerysaid.
"They would sohot and urn. Whenthey ran, they got
col ser. We had to gaewt ay. We coulnd't let them heuasrorseeus. We found yuorclearing,but wedidn'tsee you.Youknowhowtohide."
That, I suppose waacsompliment. We try
dtoisappearintothescenerywhenthat'spossible.Most of the time
it isn't. Tonight it isn't. And tonight we watch two at a time.
"He deosn't trust us. Why sohuld he? We'llhave to watch all four of them for a while. They're. . .odd. They might be stuidp enough to try to gbrsaome ofourpacksandleavesomenight.Oritmightjustbea matterof littlethingsstartingtodisappear.Thechildrena re more likely to get caught at it. Yet aifdutlhtsestay,itwillbefor thechildren'ssake.Ifwetake it easy on tehchildren and protect them, I think the asdwulitll be loyal to us."
"Sowebecomethecrewofamodernundergroundrailroad," I said. Slavery agna-i- eve nworse than my father thought, or at leastoosner. He thuoght iwt ouldtakeawhile.
"None of thiissnew." Bankolemade himself comofrtable against me. "In the early l9s9w0hile Iwasincolle ge,Iheardaboutcasesofgrowersdoing someofthis--holdingpeopleagainsttheirwillsand forcni gthemtowork withoutpay.LatinsinCalifornia, blacksandLatinsinthesouth....Nowandthen, someonewouldgotojailforit."
"BuEt merysaysthere'sanewlaw--thatforcing
peopleortheirchildren to work off debt that thceayn'thelprunningupislegal."

"Maybe. Ist'hard to know what to believseu. pIpose the politicinasmay have passed aawl
that oculd be
usedto support debt slavery. But I've heard niontgh about it. Anyone dirty engohu to be a slearvis dirty enoughtotellapackoflies.Yourealizethatthat woman'schildrenweresoldlikecattle--andnodoubt sold into prostitution."
I nodded. "Shenokws too." "Yes. My God."
"Thingsarebreakingdownmoreandmore."Ipaused. "I'll tell you, though, if we can convince exes-sltahvat they canh ave freedom withus, no
onewillfighthardertokeepit.Weneedbetterguns,though. And we need to be so careful. . . . It keeps getting more dangerous out here. It will be especiadlalyngerouswiththoselittlegirlsaround."
"Thosetwoknowhowtobequiet,"Bankolesaid.
"They're little
brabits, fast adnsilent. Tha'tswhy they're still alive."
24
RespectGod:Pray working. Praylearning, plannni g, doing.
Praycreating, teaching, reaching. Pray worknig. Praytofocusyourthoughts,still your fears, strengthenyourprupose. RespectGod. ShapeGod.Pray working.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 2027
WereadsomeversesandtalkedaboutEarthseedfor a while thsimorning. It wsaacalming thing to do-- aolm st like church. We endeedsomething
calmni gandreassuring.Eventhenewpeoplejoined ina, skingquestions,thinkingaloud,applyingthe versesto

theirexperiences.
Godi sChange,and in the ned, Goddoesprevail.
But we have msoething to saaybout the whnes and the whys of that end. Yeah.
It'sbeenahorribleweek.
We've taken both dtaoy and yesetrdayasrest days. We might takoemtorrowaswell. I need it whheetr theothersdoornot.We'reallsoreandsick,in mourningandexhausted--yettriumphant.Oddtobetriumphant. I
think it's becuase most of us are still alive. We ahrearvaest of survivors. But then, that's what we've always been.
Thisiswhathappened.
At our nonostop on Tuesday, Tori adnDoe, the two little girls, waewntay from the group toinuarte. Emery went with them. Shhaed kindof takenchargeofDoeaswellasherowndaughter.Thenight befores, hean dGraysonMorahadslippedaway fromthegroupandstayedawayforoveranhour. HarryandIwereonwatch,and wesawthemgo. Nowtheywereacouple--allovereachother,butatarm's length from everyno eelse. Strange p eople.
So Emery took the lsgiroff to peen--ot far away. uJst across the hill face and out gohft sbiehni dapatch ofdeadbushesandtall,drygrass.Therestofus sat eating, dnrki in g, and sweatnig in what shadewecouldget fromacopseofoaktreesthatlooked
onlyhalfdead.Thetreeshadbeenrobbedofagreat numberofbranches,nodoubtbypeopleneeding firewood.I
waslookingattheirmanyjaggedwounds whenthescreamingbegan.
First there were thegh,i needle thin, needelsharp shrieks of the little girls, then weardheEmeryshouting forhelp.Thenweheardaman'svoice, cursing.
Idiedwithsomeoneelse.Someonelaidhandson meandIcamewithinafinger'stwitchofsqueezing thetriggeronce more.
Bankole.
"You stupid asshole!" I whimpered. "I almost killed you." "You'rebleeding,"hesaid.
Iwassurprised.ItriedtorememberwhetherI'dbeenshot. Maybe I hadusjt comed own on a hsarp piece of wood. I had onsense of my ownodby. I hurt, butcoIuldn'thavesaidwhere--orevenwhetherthepain was mineorsomeoneelse's.Thepainwasintense,yet diffu sesomehow. I fe.l.t.disembodied.

"Iseveryoneelseallright?"Iasked. "Be still," he said.
"Is it over, Bankole?"
"Yes. The usrvivors have rnuaway."
"Take my gun, thenn,da give it to Natividad--cainsetheydecidetocomeback."
I think I felt him take the gun from my hand. I heard muffled talk that I didne'rtstqaunidte. Tuhndat was whenIrealizedIwaslosingconsciousness. Allrightthen. At least I had held on elonnogughto do somegood.
Jill Gilchisrt is dead. Shewasshotinthebackassherantowardthe
treescarryingTori.Bankoledidn'ttellme,didn'twantme to kon
wbefore I had to beucsae, as it turendout, I
was wounded myself. I was lucky. My wdowunas minor. It hurt, but other than that, it didn't matter much. Jilwasunlucky. I found out about heeratdh whenI came to anhdeard Allie'shoarse screaming grief.
Jilhl adgottenToribacktothetrees,putherdown,then, without a sound, folded to gthroeund asthoughtaking cover.EmeryhadgrabbedToriandhuddle d, cryni gwith her in terror nad reliefE. veryoneelsehadbeenbusy, firsttakingcover,then firing or irdecting fire. Travis was the first to tsheeebloodpoolingaroundJill.Hesho utedfor Bankole,thenturnedJillontoherbackandsawblood welling form what turnedo ut to be an ewxiot und inherchest.Bankolesaysshediedbefore hereachedher,Nolastwords,nolastsightofhersiste r, not even the ass
urance that she ahd saved the little girl. She had. Toarsi
bwruised, but fine. Everyone was fine except Jill.
Myownwound,tobehonest,wasabigscratch.A bulleht adplowedafurrowstraightthroughthefleshof my left side, leaving little damage, a lot of blood,uaplceoof hoelsin my shirt, and a lot of pain.wTohuendthro bbedworsethanaburn,butitwasn't disabling.
"Cowboywound,"HarrysaidwhenheandZahra
came to
olokme over. They looked dirty and meriasble, but Harry tried to bebeuapt for me. They had j
ust helped to ubry Jill. The grouhpad, withhands,sticks,andourhatchet,dugashallowgrave forherwhileIwas unconscious.Theyputheramong thetrees'roots,coveredher,androlledbigrocks atophergrave.Thetreeswere tohaveher,butthe dogsandthecannibalswerenot.
Thegrouphaddecidedtobeddownforthenight wherewewere,eventhoughouroakcopseshould havebeenreje ctedasanovernightcampbecauseit wastooclosetothehighway.
"You'reagoddamnfoolandtoobigtocarry,"Zahratold me. "So just rest there and lent Bkoale take care of you. Not that anyone clodu stop him."
"You'vejustgotacowboywound,"Harryrepeated.
"In that book I bought,oplee are always gettinsghotinthesideorthearmortheshoulder,andit's nothing--
althoughBankolesaysagoodpercentageof them woulhd
ave died of tetauns orsome other infection."
"Thanksfortheencouragement,"Isaid.

Zahra gave him aoklo, then patted my arm. o"nD't worry," she said. "No germ will get past that old man. He'smadashell at you for getting uyrsoelf shot. Says if you had annyses,e you would havestayed backherewiththebabies."
"What?"
"Hey, he's ldo," Harry said. "What do you exepct." I sighed. "Ho'wsAllie?" "Crying."Heshookhishead."Shewon'tletanyone nearherexceptJustin.Evenhekeepstryingtocomfo rt her. It
upsets him that sh'es crying."
"Emery and oTri arekind of beaetnup, too," Zahra said. "Th'erey the otehr reasonwe'renot moving." She paused. "Hey, Luaren, you eevrnoticeanything funny about those otw-- Emery and Tori, I mne?a And about that guy Mora, too."
"Howmany times did you ed?i" Mora askemd e.
"Three at least," I anesrwed, as thuogh this were a nseaconversation. "Maybe fuor. I never did it like that before-- overand over. Insane. But you olkowellenough."
HisexpressionhardenedasthoughI'dslappedhim.Of course, I hadnsiulted him. I'd saidW,
here were
you, man and fellow sharer, while your woman and
your group were in dan.gFeurnny.ThereIwas, speakingalanguageIhadn'trealizedIknew. "I had to get Doe out ofgedra,"n he said. "I had no gun, anyway."
"Canyoushoot?"
He ehsitated. "Nevershot before," haedmitted,droppinghisvoicetoamumble.AgainI'dshamedhim-- thi s
time without meaning to.
"Whenwe teach you to hsoot, will you, to protect the group?"
"Yeah!" Though at that meonmt, I think he wlodu have preefrred to hsoot me. "It hurts like hell," I nweadr.
He shurgged. "Most thignsdo."
Ilookedintohisthin,angryface.Wereallslavessothin--underfed, overworke d, and taguht that most thinghsu rt? "Are you from istharea?"
"Born in Sacraemnto."
"Then we need all theoirnmfation you can givues. Even without a gun, we need you ltpo uhsseurvive here."

"My information is to get out of here behfoosrethtingsupthehillthrowpaintonthemselvesandstart shooting peopleandsettingfires."
"Oh, shit," I said. "So that's what they are." "What'dyouthinktheywere?"
"I didn't have a cnhcae to thnik about them. It woldun't have mattered anyway. Harry, did you gsturiyps thedead?"
"Yeah." He gave me a thin smile. "Wengoothtera gun-- a .38. I put some stuff in yaocukr fprom thoene syoukilled."
"Thank you. I don't
okwn that I can acrry my pack yet. Maybe Banek-o-l "
"He'salreadygotitonhiscart.Let'sgo." Weheadedouttowardtheroad. "Isthathowyoudoit?"GraysonMoraasked, walkingnexttome."Whoeverkillstakes?"
"Yes, but we don't kill usnsleosmeone threatens us," I said. "Woen'dt hunt poeple. Wedon't eat human fl esh. We fight togheet r against enemei s. If one of iusisn need, the rest heolupt. And we dno't steal fromo
ne another,ever."
"Emery said that. I didn't believeer aht first." "Will you live as we do?"
"..yeah. I guess so."
I hesitated. "So what else isonwgr? I cnasee that you don'tutsrt us, even now." He walekdcloserto me, but did not touch me.
"Where'd that white man comeomfr?" hedemanded.
"I've known him all my life," I said. "He and I oatnhdersthaevekeptoneanotheraliveforalongtime,now." "But. . .him and those eorsth, they dno't feel anything. You're the only one whols."fee
"We call it asrhing. I'm the only one." "But the.y... You...."
"Wehelpeachother.Agroupisstrong.Oneortwo peopleareeasiertorobandkill."
"Yeah." He
olokedaround at the others. Terhe was no gerat trust orikling in ihs expression, but he
looked more rleaxed, more satisfeid. He lokedasthoughhehadsolvedatroublingpuzzle.

Testing
ihm, I let myself stumble. It was easy. I still
had little feeling in my feet and legs.
Morastepped aside. He
iddn't touch me or oefrf help. Sweet guy.
I left Mora, went over to Allie, anldkedwwaith her
for a while. eHrgrief and resentment wereikel
a wall agnasit me-- agianst everyone, I supose, but I
aws
the one bothernig her at the mmoent. And I was
aliveandhersisterwasdead,andhersisterwastheonly family she had left, and why didn't I just get the hell out of her face?
She nevresaid anythni g. She just pretenedd I wasnt'there.ShepushedJustinalonginhiscarriageand wiped tearsfromherstonyfacenowandthenwitha swift, whiplki emotion. She wsahurting herself, doingthat.Shewas rubbingherfacetoohard,toofast, rubbingitraw.Shewashurtingmetoo,andIdidn'tneed any more pain. I stayed with her, thuogh, until herdefensesbegantocrumbleunderanewwaveof crpi plinggrief.Shestoppedhurtinghe rselfandjustlet the tearsrun down her face, let them fall to heesrt cohr to the brokenacbkl top. She seme
ed to saugnderasuddenweight.
I hugged ehr then. I put my hanodnsher shouldersandstoppedherhalf-blindplodding.Whensheswunga rou nd to face me,oshtile and hurtni g, Ihuggedher.Shecouldhavebrokenfree.Iwasfeeling far fromstrongjust then, but after a fiarsntgrypullingaway,shehungontomeandmoaned.
I've never haerd anyone moanlike that. She
icerdandmoanedthereattheroadside,andtheothers stopped
andwaitedforus.Noonespoke.Justin begantowhimperandNatividadcamebackto comforthim.Thewordless messagewasthesame forbothchildandwoman:In spite of your loss and
pain, you rean't alone. You still heapveoplewho
care about you and want you to be all right. You still have family. Shenodded,thenglancedsidelongatBankole.
"He
nkows," I assuerd her. "But. . .look, you and Grayasreonthe first sharers I've okwnn whohadchild
ren."Therewasnoreasontotellhersheand GraysonandtheirchildrenwerethefirstsharersI'dkno wn period. "I
hope to have
dkismyself someday, so I need tonokw. . .do they always inherit shthaering?"
"One of my boys didn't have it," she said. "feSeolmeres--sharers--can'thaveanykids.Idon'tknow why. AndIknewsomewhohadtwoorthreekidswho ddi n't have it at all. Beoss,s though, they like you to have it."
"I'lbl ettheydo."
"Sometimes," hse continued, "sometimesthey paymoreforpeoplewhohaveit.Especiallykids."
Herkids. Yet they had taken a boy whaosn'wt asharerandleftagirlwhowas.Howlongwouldithave beenb e fore they cambeack for the irgl?
Perhapstheyhadalucrativeofferfortheboysasapair, sothey sold them fsitr.

"My god," Bankole said. "Tschoiuntry hasslippedback200years." "Thingswere betterwhen I wsalittle," Emerysaid.
"My mother alwyassaidthey would get better gaain.Goodtimeswouldcomeback.Shesaidtheyalways did. Myfatherwouldshakehisheadandnotsay anything."ShelookedaroundtoseewhereToriwas andspottedheron GraysonMora'sshoulders.Then shecaughtsightofsomethingelse,andshegasped. Wefollowedhergazeandsa wfirecreepingoverthe hillsbehindus--farbehindus,butnotfarenough. Thiswassomenewfire,whippingalongin thedryeveningb reeze. Either the epoplewho attacked us had followeuds, setting fireso,rsomeone was imitating them, echiong them.
We went on, moving fears,t trying to see werhe wecouldgotobesafe.Oneithersideofthehighway,there was d ry grass, there were teres, living andead.Sofar,thefirewasonlyonthenorthside. Wekepttothesouthside, hopingitwouldbesafe.
There was a lake aehad, according to my map of athrea--ClearLake,itwascalled.Themapshoweditto be large, and the hihgway followed its onrthern shoreforafewmiles.Wewouldreachitsoon.How soon?
Icalculatedaswewalked.Tomorrow.Weshouldbe abletocampnearittomorrowevening.Notsoon enough. Icouldsmellthesmokenow.Didthatmeanthewind wasblowingthefiretowardus?
Otherpeoplebeganhurryingandkeepingtothe southsideoftheroadandheadingwest.Noone wenet astnow.Th erewerenotrucksyet,butitwas gettinglate.Theywouldbebarrelingthroughsoon. Andweshouldbecampingfor thenightsoon.Did wedare?
Thesouthsidestillseemedfreeoffirebehindus, butonthenorthsidethefirecrawledafterus, comingnocloser,but refusingtobeleftbehind.
We went on for a while, all ofouksinglo back often, all of us tiredo,mse of us uhrting. I called haalt and gesturedusoff the road to the south at aacepwlheretherewasroomtositandrest.
"We acn't stay here," Mora said. "Theecfoiruld jump the roaadny time." "Wecanresthereforafewmoments,"Isaid."Weca nsee the fire, and it will tell us when we'dstbaertttweralki
ngagain."
"We'dbetter start now!" Mora sida. "If thtafire gets going good, it will move faster theacnanwrun! Best to keepwell ahead of it!"
"Best to have the sntgreth to kepahead of it," I
said, nad I took a weart bottle from my packndadrank.Wewerewithinsightoftheroadandwehad madeita

rulenottoeatordrinkinsuchexposedplaces, but today that ruleadh to be uspe nded. To go into the hills away from the road might mebaeningcutofffromtheroadbyfire.Wecouldn'tknow whenorwhereawindblown pieceofburningdebrismight land.
Othersfollowedmyexampleanddrankandatealittle dried fruit, meat, andeabdr . Bankole nad I sah
redwith
Emery andTori. Mora esemed to want to leave in spite of us, bduatughhister Doe wassittinghalfasleepon thegroundagainstZahra.He stoopednexttoherandmadeherdrinkalittlewaterand eat some fruit.
"We might have to keep moving iaglhlt,n" Allie said, her voice aolsmt too soft to hear. "iTs hmight be the only rest we get." And to Travis, "You'derbeptut tDominicintothecarriagewithJustinwhenhe'sfinishede a ting."
Travisnodded.He'dcarriedDominicthisfar.Nowhe tuckedhiminwithJustin."I'llpushthecarriageforawhile," he said.
Bankolelookedatmywound,rebandagedit,andthis time gave meoms ething for the pain. He biuerd the bloody bandageshehad removed, dgiging ashallowholewithaflatrock.
Emery, with Torionge to selep against her, looked to seewhatBankolewasdoingwithme,thenjumped andlookedaway,herhandgoingtoherownside. "I didn't konwyou were hurt so much," shewhispered.
"I'm not," I said, and dmema yself smlie. "It looks nasetrithan it is with all the obdl,o but it isn't bad. I'm damned lucky cmo pared to Jill. And it doesn't stop me fromkinwga."l
"You didn't give me anynpwahienwe werewalking,"shesaid.
I nodded, glad to okwnI could afke her out. "It's ugly," I said,"but not too painful." Shesettleddownasthoughshefeltbetter.Nodoubt shedid.IfImoanedandgroaned,I'dhaveallfourofthem
moanin gandgroaning. Thekidsmight evenbleedalongwithme.Iwouldhavetobecarefuland keeplyingatleastas longasthefirewasathreat-- oraslongasIcould.
Thetruthwas,thoseblood-saturatedbandagesscare dthe hell out of me, and the nwdouhurt worse than ever. But I knew I had to keeipngg orburn.Afterafewminutes,Bankole'spillsbegantotake
the edge off my pain, and that made thele wwhoorldeasiertoendure. Wehadaboutanhour'srestbeforethefiremadeustoo nervou sto stay where we were. hTen we got up and
walked. By then, at some point ibnedh us, the fire hadlready jumped the road.
oNw, neitherthe
north
onr the south dsielookedsafe. Until it wadsark,allwecouldseeinthehillsbehinduswassmo ke. It was a
terrifying, looming, movignwall.Later,afterdark,wecouldseethefireeatingitswaytoward us. Teh
rewere
dogs runningalong
ht e road with us, but they paid no atotennttio us. Ctsaanddeerranpastus,andaskunk
scuttledby.Itwasliveand let live. Neithher umans nor animalswerefoolishenoughtowastetimeattackingone another.Behindu sand to the onrth, the fire beagn to raor.WeputToriinthecarriageandJustinandDominic betweenherlegs.Thebabiesneverevenwokeupwhile we were moving them. Tori herself smwaore than half asleep. I worried that the carriageighmt break down with the extra wigeht, but it held. Travis, Harry, and Allie traded off pusihng it.

Doe, we put atop the load oankBole's cart. Shecouldn'thavebeencomfortablethere,butshedidn't compl ain.ShewasmoreawakethanTori,andshe hadbeenwalkingonherownmostofthetimesince ourencounterwith thewould-bekidnappers.She wasastronglittlekid--herfather'sdaughter. GraysonMorahelpedpushBankole's
cart.Infact, onceDoewasloadedaboard,Morapushedthecartmost of the time. The man in his loveforhisdaughter,hewasadmirable.
nw'taslikeable, but
At some point in the lessd ngi ht, more ms oke andashthaneverbegantoswirlaroundus,andIcaught
myself thinkinghatt we might not amke it. Without stopinpg, we wet sirhts, scarves, whatever we had, andtiedthemaroundournosesandmouths.
Thefireroaredandthundereditswaypastusonthe norths,ingeingourhairandclothing,makingbreathing a
terrible effort. The abbie swokeupandscreamedinfearandpain,thenchokedandalmostbrought me
odwn.
Tori, crying
ehrself with theipr
ainandherown,heldontothemandwouldnotletthem struggleoutofthecarriage.
I thought we would die. I believere thwasnoway for us toursvive this sea of fire, hot winmdo, kse, andash.Isawpeople--strangers--fall,andweleftthem lying on the hhiwg ay, waiting to ubrn. I stopepd looki ngback.Intheroarofthefire,Icouldnothear whethertheyscreamed.Icouldseethebabiesbefor eNatividad thre wwet ragsoverthem. I knew they weesrcreaming. ThenI coudl n't see tehm, anditwasablessing.
Webegantorunoutofwater.
Therewasnothingtodoexceptkeepgoingorburn. Theterrible,deafeningnoiseofthefireincreased, thenlessen ed,andagain,increased,thenlessened.It seemed that the fire went noartwhay from threoad,thenwhippedba ckdowntowardus.
It teased like a living, malenot l thing, intent on ucsaingpain and terror. It drove buesfore it like dgos ch asing a arbbit. Yet it didn't eat us. It could
have, but it didn't.
In the end, the worst of itedrooafrf to the northewst. Firestorm, Bankolecalled it later. Yes.ikLe atorna dooffire,roaringaround,justmissingus,playing with us, eth nletting us live.
We could not rest. There swstiall fire. Little fires thcaotuldgrowintobigones,smoke,blindingand chokings moke. . . . Nostr.e
Buwt
ecouldslowdown.Wecouldemergefromtheworst of the smo keand ash, anedscape the alsh ofhotwin
ds.Wecouldpausebythesideoftheroad foramoment,andgaginpeace.Therewasalotof gaggni g.Coughingand gaggingandcryingmuddytrac ksonto our fcaes. It wsaincredible. We were going to survive. We ewstiellr alive and togetehr-- scorchedand miserable, ingreat need of waetr, but alive. We ewre going to make it.
Later, when we dared, we went off the ruonaldo,adedmypackfromBankole'scart,anddugouthis extra water bottle. He udg it out. He'd touldshehaditwhenhecouldhavekeptitforhimself.
"We'll reach Clear Lkeasometime tomorrow," sIaid.
"Early tomororw, I think. I don't okwnhow far we'vceomeorwherewearenow,soIcanonlyguessthatwe'll get the re early. But it is there wnagiti forus tomorrow."

Peoplegruntedorcoughedanddownedswallowsfrom Bankole's extra bottle. The khidads
to be
preventedfromguzzlingtoomuchwater.Asitwas, Dominicchokedandbegantocryagain.
We camepdwherewe were, witihnsight of the road. Two ofhauds to stay awaekon watch. I volunteered forfirstwatchbecauseIwasintoomuchpaintosleep. I got my gun back fmrNo atividad, checked toseethat shehadreloadedit--shehad--andlooked aroundforapartner.
"I'll watch with you, " yGsroan Mora said.
Thast urprisedme.Iwouldhavepreferredsomeone whoknewhowtouseagun--someoneIwouldtrust witha gun.
"I'm not going to be ableleteop suntil you do," shaeid. "Its' thatsimple. So lest'both put our pain gtoodu se."
IlookedatEmeryandthetwogirlstoseewhetherthey'd heard, but they semeed to be already leasep.
"All right."saIid. "We've got to wcaht forstrangers and fire. Give me a yell if you see anuynthuisnugal." "Give me a gun," heid.sa"If anybody comseclose, I
can at alest use it to scare them."
In the dark,urse. "No gun," I said. "Not yet. dYoonu'tknowenoughyet." Hestaredatmeforseveralseconds,thenwentoverto Bankole. Heurtne dhis back to me ahsespoke to
Bankole. "Look, you konwI need a ugn to do angyuardinginaplacelikethis.Shedoesn'tknowhowit isS. he thinksshedoes,butshedoesn't."
Bankole shrugged. "If you can't do it, man, go to sleep. Onsewiollf tuake the wahtcwith her."
"Shit," Mora made theorwd longandnasty. "Shiiit. Fisrt time sIaw her, kInew she wsaa man.Justdidn'tkn owshewastheonlymanhere."
Absolutesilence.
DoeMorasavedthesituationtothedegreethatitcould be saevd. At that moment she spteepdup behindh er fatherand tapped himonthe back. He supnaround, more than ready to fight, snpwuithsuchspeedandfury thatthelittlegirlsquealedand jumpedback.
"Whathehellareyoudoingup!"heshouted."Whatdo you want!"
Frighet ned, the little girl justarsetd at him. Aftermaoment,sheextendedherhand,offeringapomegran ate. "Zahra said we couhldave this," she wishpered. "Would you cut it?"
Good thniking, Zahra! I didn't turn tookloat her, butwIasawareofherwatching.Bynow,everyonestill awa kewaswatching.
"Everyone's tired nad everyone'shurting," I told him.

"Everyone, not just you. But we've mgeandato keep ourseelvsalive by worknig together and by not dnoi g or saynigstupid things."
"And if that's not goondouegh for you," Bankolaedded,inavoicelowanduglywithanger,"tomorrowyou can g oout and find yourself a different kind of
grouptotravelwith--agrouptoogoddamnmachoto wasteitstimesavingyourchild'slifetwiceinoneday." SUNDAYS, EPTEMBER26,2027
Somehow,we'vereachedournewhome--Bankole'sland in the cao stal hils of Hmu bolt County. Thehigh way--U.S.101--istotheeastandnorthofus, andCapeMendocinoandtheseaaretothewest.A fewmilessoutha restateparksfilledwithhuge redwoodtreesandhoardsofsquatters.Thelandsurroundin gus, however, is aes mpty and wilads any I've seen. It's ceorevd with dry brush, treesn, da tree stmu ps, all far removedofmr any city, and a long, hilly walk from the little towns that hliignhewtahye.There'sfarmingaroundhere,andlog ging,and just plain isloated living. Accoridng to Bankole, it's best to mindu yroown businessand not pay toomuchattentiontohowpeopleonneighboringplots
of land earn a living. If they hijack trucks on 101, grojuwanma,adriistill wihsky, or brew up more compl icated illegal sbustances. .. Well, live and let live.
Bankoleguidedusalonganarrowblacktoppedroad thatsoonbecameanarrowdirtroad.Wesawafewcultivated fields, som escarsleft by past fireosr logging, nad a lot of land that msed unused. Theroadallbutvanished beforewecametotheendof
it. Good for isoloatni. Bad for getting thinignos rout. Bad for travelinbgack and ofrth to get work. Bnka olehadsaidhisbrother-in-lawhadtospendalotoftimein various towns, away from his family. Thaatsweasier tounderstandnow.There'snopossibilityhereof comingh ome every day or two. So what did hyaovuetodoto savecash?Sleepindoorwaysor
parksintown?Maybeitwasworththe inconveniencetodojustthatifyoucouldkeepyour family together adnsafe-- far form the deseprate, thecrazy,andthevicious.
Orthat'swhatIthoughtuntilwereachedthehillside whereBankole'ssister'shouseandoutbuildings weresuppose dtobe.
Therewasnohouse.Therewerenobuildings. Therewasalmostnothing:Abroadblacksmearonthe hillside; a fe wcharred planks sict king up from the rulbeb, some elaningagainst others; and a talblrickchimney,standing
blackandsolitarylikeatombstone in a piuct re of an s.
25
CreatenoimagesofGod. Accepttheimages
dol-stylegraveyard. Atombstoneamidthebonesandashe
thatGodhasprovided. Theyareeverywhere,in everything.
GodisChangeÑSeed to tree, tree to fosrte;Raintoriver, rvi ertosea; Grubstobees, beestoswarm.

From
noe, many;
from many, one;
Forever uniting, growing, dissolvingÑ foreverChanging. Theuniverse isGod'sself-portrait.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING FRIDAY, OCTOBER 1, 2027
We'vebeenarguingallweekaboutwhetherornot weshouldstayherewiththebonesandashes. We'vefoundfive skulls--threeinwhatwasleftofthe houseandtwooutside.Therewereotherscatteredbones, but not one complet eskeleton. Dogshavebeenatthebones--dogsandcannibals,perhaps. Thefirehappenedlongenougha goforweedstobegin to grow in the ruleb.bTwo months ago? Three?Someofthefar-flungneighborsmightkn ow.Some of the far-flunng eighbors mgi ht have set thfiere.
Therewasnowaytobecertain,butIassumedthat
thebonesbelongedtoBankole'ssisterandherfamily. Ithink Bankole assmu ed that too, but he cldonu't bring himself to just bury theonbesand
write off his seisr.t
The day after wgoet here, he anHdarryhikedbacktoGlory,thenearestsmalltownthat we
had passed through, to talk to thoecal l cop s. They were, or they proefssed to be, sheri'fsf deputies. I wonder what you have to do to becomcoep.aIwonderwhatabadgeis,otherthanalicenseto steal. What did it used to be to make ple pBankole'sage want to trust it. I know what theboolkdssay,butstill,I
wonder.
ThedeputiesallbutignoredBankole'sstoryandhis questions.Theywrotenothingdown,claimedtokno wnothing
. They treated Bnakole as tohugh they doubted that he eenvhadasister, or that he wwashohesaidhewas. SomanystolenIDsthesedays. Theysearchedhimandtookthecashhewascarrying. Fees for piolceservices, they said. Hhead beencareful to carry only what heoutghht would be enuogh to kepthem sweet-tempe red, but not enuogh to make themusspiciousormore greedythantheyalreadywere.Therest--asizablepacket
--he left with me. Heu tsrted me neough to do that. isHgunheleftwithHarrywhohadgoneshopping.
JaiflorBankolecouldhavemeantbeingsoldintoa periodofhard,unpaidlabor--slavery.Perhapsifhe hadbeen younger,thedeputiesmighthavetaken
hismoneyandarrestedhimanywayonsome trumped-upcharge.Ihadbeggedhimnottogo,notto tru st anpyo lice or goevrnment official. It seemetodmesuchpeoplewerenobetterthangangswith theirobbingandslaving.
Bankole agreedwith me, yet he inseisdton goni g.
"She was my little sister," heids.a "I have to try, at least, to find out wphpaetnheda
to her. I need tookn
wwho did this. Most of all, I need to knwohwetheranyofherchildrencouldhavesurvived.One orm ore of th ose five skusllcouldhave belonged to the arsoisnts." He stared at the ceocltlion of bnoes. "I have to risk goingto the sehriff's office," he contuined. "But you don't. I don't want you with me. I danotn'thewm

getting any idaes about you, maybe finndgiout by acciednt thayt ou'reasharer.Idon'twantmysister'sdeathtoc ostyou your life or youreefdrom."
We foguht about it. I was afraid fiomr ; hhe wasafraidforme,andwewerebothangrierthanwehad everbeen ateachother.Iwasterrifiedthathewouldbe killedo rarrested, andwe'dnever findout what hapened to him. No one hsould travel alnoe in thiws orld.
"Look,"hesaidatlast,"youcandosomegoodherewith the gorup. You'll have noe of the four ngsu left herea, n dyouknowhowtosurvive.You'reneededhere. If the cpo sdecide they want me, you won't be
able to do a thing.orWse, if they decide theyanwtyou,there'llbenothingIcandoexcepttake revenge,andbe killedforit."
That solwed medown-- the thought that I migchat usehisdeathinsteadofbackinghimup.Ididn'tquite believe
it, but it slowed me dowH.narrysteppedinthenandsaidhewouldgo.Hewantedto anywayH. thingsforthegroup,and h ewanted to lokfor a job. He awnted to earsnomemoney.
"I'll do what I can," he told me juosrtebtehfey left.
ecouldbuysome
"He'snotabadoldguy.I'llbringhimbacktoyou." Theybroughteachotherback,Bankoleafewthousand dolal rs
poorer, and Harry still jobless-t-houghtheydidbringbacksuppliesandafewhandtools. Bankole ken
wno
more than hehad when hleeftabouthissisterandherfamily,butthecopshadsaid they would come out to investigate the fire andthebones.
We worried thatoosner or laetr, they might sohwup. We're still keepniga lookout for them, adnwe've hidden--buried--mostofourvaluables.Wewanttobury the bnoes, but we don'tarde. It's botehring Bankol
e. Bothering him a lot. I've suegsgted we holdafuneralandgoaheadandburythebones.Thehellwith the ocps.
But he sya
sno. Best to give them as little provonatai spossible. If they came, thweyoulddoenoughharm
withtheirstealing.Bestnot
to give them reason to dorem.
There'sawellwithanold-fashionedhandpumpunder the ruble of an ouutbilding. It still works. Thseola
r-poweredelectricpumpnearthehousedoesnot. We
oculdn't stay
ehre lon gwithout adependablewaterso
urce.Withthewell,though,it'shard to leaev--h ard to walakway frompossiblesanctuary--inspiteofarsonistsa ndcops.
Bankoleownsthisland,freeandclear.There'sa hugeh, alfruinedgardenpluscitrustreesfullof unrpi efruit.We've alreadybeenpullingcarrotsanddiggingp otatoeshere. Thereare plenty of other fraunitdnuttreespluswild pines,redwoods,andDou glas firs. None of these last ewre very big. Tishareawasloggedsometimebefore Bankoleboughtit. Bankolesaysitwasclear-cutbackinthe1980sor l990s,butwecanmakeuseofthetreesthat have grownsincethen,andwecanplantmore.Wecanbuild a hselter, put in a weintrgardenfrom the seeId've
beencarryingandcollectingsincewelefthome.Grante d, a lot of it is old seed. I hadnne'wt erde
it as often as
I should have while I aws at home. Stragne that I hadn't. Thisnkgept getting worse nad worse at home, yet I had paid lessnda less attention to tphaeckthatwassupposedtosavemylifewhenthe mobcame.Therew assomuchelsetoworryabout-- andIthinkIwasintomyownbrandofdenial,asbadin its way as Co'rysorJoanne
's mother's. But all that
feelslikeancienthistory.Nowwaswhatwehadtoworry about. What
ewre we going to doown?
"I don't think ewcan make it here," Harry saeiadrlier this eveninagswe sataround the acmpfire. Theresho

uldbesomethingcheerfulaboutsittingarounda campfirewithfriendsandafullstomach.Weevenhad meat tongi ht freshmeat. Bankole took the rifle and went off by himself for a whileh. eWcahmeenback,hebroughtthree rabbitswhichZahraandI skinned,cleaned,androasted.Wealsoroasted sweetpotatoesthatwehaddugoutofthe
garden.We should have ben content. Yet all we were
ndgoi wasrehashingwhathadbecomeanoldargume
nt overthepastfewdays.Perhapsitwasthebonesanda shes just oevrthe rise that were boetrhingus. We
ahd
campedout of sight of the
nbeudr
area in the hope oefcorvering a little paece of mind, buthaitdn'thelped.
Iwasthinkingthatweshouldfigureout a way to cauptre a few wildabrbits alive nadbreedthemforasuremeats upply.Wasthatpossible ?Why not, if we stayereh? And we shousldtay.
"Nothingwe find farther north will be any better or any safer isth,"anI tshaid. "It will be hard to live here, but if we work together, and if'rewecareful, it sohuld be possible. Weanc build a comumnityhere."
"Ohg, od,thereshegoeswithherEarthseedshit
again," Allie said. Butesmiled a little as esshaid it. That was
ogdo. She hand't smiled much lately.
"We acn buildacommunity here," I reepated. "It'sdangerous,sure,but,hell,it'sdangerous everywhere,and themorepeopletherearepacked togetherincities,themoredangerthereis.Thisisaridiculou splace to builadcom
munity. It's isolatedm, ilesfromeverywherewithnodecentroadleadinghere, but four
s, for
onw, it's perefct."
"Excepthatsomeoneburnedthisplacedownlasttime," GraysonM orasaid. "Anything wbeuild out here by itself is aartget."
"Anything we budial nywhereisa target," Zahra aruged. "But the people ouet rehbefore. . . . I'm sorry Bankole, I gotta say this: They cdonu'tl havekeptagoodwatch--amanandawomanandthreekid s. They would have workedhard aldl ay, thensleptallnight.Itwouldhavebeentoohardonjust twogrownpeopletotryto situpandwatchforhalfthe night each."
"Theydidn'tkeepanightwatch,"Bankolesaid.
"We'll have to keepneo, though. And weouclduse a cuople of dogs. If ewcould get themaspuppiesand trainthemtoguard--"
"Give meat to dogs?"oMrademanded, outraged. "Not son." Bankole shrugged. "Not until we have
enough for
uorselves. But if we cgaent dogs, they'lhl elpuskeeptherestofourgoods."
"I wouldn't give a dnoogthingbut a bullet or
oackr ,"Morasaid."Isawdogseatawomanonce."
"Thereare no ojbs in that town Bankolenda I went to," Harsrayid. "There wsanothing. Not even work
for roomand board. I asked all
eorvtown. No one evennekw of anything."

Ifrowned."Thetownsaroundhereareallclosetothe highway," I said. "They must get a lot of ppeoaspsliengt
hrough,lookingforaplacetosettle--ormaybe a pal
ce to rob, rape, kill. Thoecalls wouldn'twelcomenewp
eople.Theywouldn'ttrustanyonethey didn't kon
w."
Harry loked frommeto Bankole.
"She's irght," Bankoel said. "My brotehr-in-lawhad ahardtimebeforepeoplebegantogetusedtohim,and he move dup here before thignsgot so bad. Hkenewplumbing,carpentry,electricalwork,andmotorvehicle me cha nics. Of ocurse, it didn't help that whaesblack.Beingwhitemighthelpyouwinpeopleover faste rthan he
did. I think, thoguh, that any sieorus money we
amke here will comeofmr
theland.Foodisgoldthesedays,
andwecangrowfoodhere. We have ugns to protect uorselves, so wecansellourcropsinnearbytownsoron thehighway."
"If we survive longnoeugh to gorwanything to sell," Mora meurtet d. "If there's neough water, if the bugs don't eat uor crops, if no one burunssout the way they did those people over the hill, if, if, if!"
Allie sighed. "Shit, it's if, if, if anywhere you igso.plTache isn't so bad." She swsitating on hesrleepsack, holdingthesleepingJustin'sheadinherlap. As shespoke, she stroked the b'osyhair. It ocurred to me, not for the fisrt time, that no matter how tough Allie tried to seem, that little boykewyastothheer. Children were the kesyto most of the adulptsresent.
"Therearenoguaranteesanywhere,"Iagreed."Butif we'r ewilling to work, our chances are good here. I've
got some seed in myacpk. We
acn buy more. What we have to do at this pmoionrte iilske gardening
than farmni g. Everything will have todboenebyhand--composting,watering,weeding,picking wormso rslug sorwhatever off the cropasnd killing them noe by one if that's what it takes. As for water, if our well still has water in it now, in October,
I don't think whaeve to worry about it godinrgy on
su. Not thsiyear, anyway."
"And if people teharten usorour crop, we kill them. That's all. We kill them, or they kill us. If we work together, we acn defend ourselves, and we acn protect the kids. A community's first responsibilittoy is protectitschildren--theoneswehavenowandthe ones we will have."
Therewassilenceforawhile,peopledigesting,
perhapsmeasuring it against hwat they had to look foarrwd to if they left this placedcaontinued north. "Weshoulddecide,"Isaid."Wehavebuildingandplanting to do ehre. We have to buy moreo fdo,moreseed
andtools."Itwastimefordirectness: "Allie, will you stay?"
She looked acorss the dead fire at me, esdtahrardatmeasthoughshehopedtoseesomethingonmy facethatw ouldgiveherananswer.
"Whast eeddoyouhave?"sheasked.
I drew aeedp breath. "Most of it is sumermstuff--corn,peppers,sunflowers,eggplant,melons,tomatoe s,
beans,squash. But I havseome winter things; epas, carrots,
acbbage, broccoli, winet rsquash,onions,aspar

agus,herbs,severalkindsofgreens. . . . We can buy more, and we've got the stuff left in thislusgarden p what w ecanharvest from the local oak,nep,i and ctirus trees. I broughttreeseedstoo:moreoak,citrus,pe ach,pear,nectarine, almond, walnut, a few others. Theyonw't dousanygoodforafewyears,butthey'reahellof
an inve stment in the future."
"So is a kid," Allie said. "I didn't think ldI wbeoudumb neough to say this, but yeah, I'll stay. I want to build something too. I never had a ncchea to build anything before."
Alliea, ndJustinwereayes,then. "Harry?Zahra?" "Ofcoursewe'restaying,"Zahrasaid.
Harry frowned. "Wait a mtien.u We dno't have to."
"I know. But we are. If we caakne ma communitylikeLaurensaysandnothavetohireoutto strangersandtru stthemwhentheyshouldn'tbetrusted, then we sholdu do it. Ifyou grewupwhere Idid,you'dknowweshould."
"Harry," I said, "I've known you all my life. You're the closest thing to a brother that I have left. You aren't really thinikng about leaving, are yuo?" It wasn't thweorld'sbestargument.Hehadbeenbothcousinand lovertoJoanne,andhe'dlethergowhenhecould havegonewithher.
"I want someitnhg of my own," heids.a "Land, a home, maybe aorestora small farm. Something that's mine. ThislandisBankole's."
"Yes," Bankoelsaid. "And you'll bgeetting the use oitrfentfree--andallthewateryouneed.Whatare thosethin gsgoingtocostyoufarthernorth--ifyou cangetthematallfarthernorth--ifyoucangetyourself out of Califorian."
"Buthere'snoworkhere!"
"Not to work inosthe places.The women warned me."
"I've heard of apcleslike that," Bankloe said. "Theyweresupposedtoprovidejobsforthat northward-flowingriverofpeople.President
Donner's all for them.hTe workers are more
throwaways thnaslaves. They breathetoxic fumesordrinkcontaminatedwaterorgetcaughtinunshielded ma chine ry. .. It doesn't matter. Th'ereyeasytoreplace--thousandsofjoblessforeveryjob."
"Borderworks," Mora siad. "Not all of them are that bad. Idshoemarepay cash wages, not cmopanysc ript."
"Is that where you want to go?" eId.as"kOr do you want to stay here?"
He looked down at
eDwohowasstill nibbling at a piece ofeeswt potato. "I want to stay here," he said,
surprisingme. "I'm not sure yhoauve a hope
hinell of building anytnhgi
here, but you'reusjt crazy enuogh
to make it work." And if it didn't wor'kd,behneoworseoffthanhewaswhenheescaped slaveryH.
ecouldrob
someoneandcontinuehisjourn ey north. Or mabye not. I'd been thinkianbgout Mora. He did a lot to keep

people away from imh -- keepthem from konwing too muchabout him,
ekep them from seeingwhat he
was feeilng, or that hweasfeelinganything--amalesharer,desperatetohide his terrilbe vulnerability? Sharing
would be harderonaman.Whatwouldmybrothershavebeen like assharers? Odd that I hadn't that before.
uthgoht of
"I'm glad youe'srtaying," I said. "Weeend you." lIookedatTravisandNatividad."Weneedyouguys,too.
"You're stayinga,
ren't you?"
"You konwweare," Travissaid. "Although I think I aegermore than I want to withorMa. I'm not sure we haveaprayerofsucceedinghere."
"We'll haevwhateverwecan shape," I said. AndtuIrnedtofaceHarry.HeandZahrahadbeen whisperingtog ether.Nowhelookedatme.
"Mora's rgi ht," he said. "You're nutIss."ighed.
"But this is aazcyr
time," he conntui ed. "Maybe youe'rwhat the time needs--orwhat we ned. I'llstay. I
may besorry for it, but
sI'tlaly."
Nowthedecisionisacknowledged,andwecanstoparguing about it. Tomorrow we'll bieng to perpare a winter garden. Next week, several of us will go into town to bus,ymtorelseed,supplies. Asl o, it's time we began to build a sherlt. There are etres enough in the area, and waen cdig into the grnoduandintothe hills.Morasayshe'sbuiltslavecabinsbefore. Sayshe'seager to build somethingbetter,something fit for human
beings. Besides, thsi far north nad this
enar the coast, we might geotmserain.
SUNDAYO,
CTOBER10,2027
TodaywehadafuneralforBankole'sdead--thefive peoplewhodiedinthefire.Thecopsnevercame.Atlast
Bankole has decided that they aren't
ignog to comea, ndthatit'stimehissisterandherfamilyhad
a decent buarli. We collectdeall the bnoes that we coldu find, and yeesrtday, Natividad warpped them in a shawl that shhead knitted years ago. It was mthoestbeautifulthingsheowned.
"Athinglikethatshouldservetheliving,"Bankole saidwhenshe offered it. "You are living," Natividdsaaid. "I like you. I wish I couldhavemetyoursister."
Helookedatherforawhile.Thenhetooktheshawland hugged her. The n, beginning to cry, he went off by himself into the teres, out of ourigsht. I let hiamloneforanhourorso,thenwentafterhim.
Ifoundhim,sittingonafallenlog,wipinghisface.I sat with him
rfosome times, aying nothing. After a while, he
got up, waited for me toansdt, thenheadedbacktowardourcamp.
"I would like to give thegmrovae of oak teres," Isaid."Treesarebetterthanstone--life commemoratinglife. Heglancedbackatme."Allright."
"Bankoel ?"

He sotpped, lookedat me with an perxessionI couldnotread.
"None oufsknewher," I said. "I wish we had. I Iwhaisdh,nomatterhowmuchIwouldhavesurprisedher."
Hemanagedasmile."Shewouldhavelookedatyou, then looek
dat me, then, right in front of you, I
think she owuld havesaid, `Well, there'nsofool like an old fool.'ncOe she got that out of hyesrtesm, I
thinkshewouldhavegottentolikeyou."
"Doyouthinkshecouldstand...orforgivecompanynow?"
"No." He drew me tios
hsideandput one arm around me. "mHaun beings will survive of course. Some
othercountries will survive. Maybe they'll abbsowrhat'sleft of us. Or maybe we'll bjurestak up into a lot of little states quarrelinagnd fighting with each other over whatrecvruembsare left. That'aslmosthappenedno wwithstatesshuttingthemselve soff from onaenother, treating state nlei s as natoinal borders. Asbrightasyou
are, I don't
thinkyouunderstand--Idon'tthinkyoucan understandwhatwe'velost.Perhapsthat'sablessing." "God is Chagne," I said.
"Olamina, that deosn't meananything." "It means everything. Everything!"
Hesighed."Youknow,asbadasthingsare,wehaven't even hit bottom yet. Starvation, daisse,drugdamage, andmobrulehaveonlybegun. Federal,state,andlocalgovernmentsstillexist--in nameatleast--andsometimes theymanagetodo somethingmorethancollecttaxesandsendinthemilitary. And the money is stillodg.o That
ama zes me. However much more you
ened of it to buy
anything theesdays, it is still accepted. That mayahboepefulsign--orperhapsit'sonlymoreevidenceof what
I just said: We haven't hit bottom yet."
"Well, the gruop of us ehredoesn't have to nski any lower," I said. Heshookhisshaggyhead,hishair,beard,and seriousexpressionmakinghimlookmorethana littlelikeanoldpictu
reIusedtohaveofFrederick Douglass.
"I wish I believed that," he said. Ppesrhiat was his grief talnkgi . "I don't think whaeve a hope cceedinghere."
I slipped my aramround him. "Letg'soback," I said.
hinell ofsu
"We've got
owrk to do."
Sotodaywerememberedthefriendsandthefamily memberswe'velost.Wespokeourindividual memoriesandq uotedBiblepassages,Earthseed verses,andbitsofsongsandpoemsthatwere favoritesofthelivingorthedead.
Thenweburiedourdeadandweplantedoaktrees.Afterward, we sat togethaend talked andate amealandd ecidedtocallthisplaceAcorn.

A sower went out to sow his seendd: aashe sowed, some fell by the way sidned; ait was trodedn do wn, and the fowls of the air devoured it. And some ofnella uorpck; andassoonasitwassprungup,itwithere daway becau se it lacekdmoisture. And some
fell among thorns;nda the thonrssprang up with it, and ockhed it. And other fell goonodground,and sprangup,andbarefruitan hundredfold.
TheBible
Authorized King James Veorsni
St. Luke 8: 5-8