“Or remember a truth or a comfort or a reminder to action,” I said. “People do that all the time. They reach back to the Bible, the Talmud, the Koran, or some other religious book that helps them deal with the frightening changes that happen in life.”
“Change does scare most people.”
“I know. God is frightening. Best to learn to cope.”
“Your stuff isn’t very comforting.”
“It is after a while. I’m still growing into it myself. God isn’t good or evil, doesn’t favor you or hate you, and yet God is better partnered than fought.”
“Your God doesn’t care about you at all,” Travis said.
“All the more reason to care for myself and others.
All the more reason to create Earthseed communities and shape God together. `God is Trickster, Teacher, Chaos, Clay.’ We decide which aspect we embrace— and how to deal with the others.”
“Is that what you want to do? Set up Earthseed communities?”
“Yes.”
“And then what?”
There it was. The opening. I swallowed and turned a little so that I could see the burned over area. It was so damn ugly. Hard to think anyone had done that on purpose.
“And then what?” Travis insisted. “A God like yours wouldn’t have a heaven for people to hope for, so what is there?”
SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 2027
I think Travis Charles Douglas is my first convert.
Zahra Moss is my second. Zahra has listened as the days passed, and as Travis and I went on arguing off and on. Sometimes she asked questions or pointed out what she saw as inconsistencies. After a while, she said. “I don’t care about no outer space.
You can keep that part of it. But if you want to put together some kind of community where people look out for each other and don’t have to take being pushed around, I’m with you. I’ve been talking to Natividad. I don’t want to live the way she had to. I don’t want to live the way my mama had to either.”
I wondered how much difference there was between Natividad’s former employer who treated her as though he owned her and Richard Moss who purchased young girls to be part of his harem. It was all a matter of personal feeling, no doubt. Natividad had resented her employer. Zahra had accepted and perhaps loved Richard Moss.
Earthseed is being born right here on Highway 101-on that portion of 101 that was once El Camino Real, the royal highway of California’s Spanish past.
Now it’s a highway, a river of the poor. A river flooding north.
I’ve come to think that I should be fishing that river even as I follow its current. I should watch people not only to spot those who might be dangerous to us, but to find those few like Travis and Natividad who would join us and be welcome.
And then what? Find a place to squat and take over? Act as a kind of gang? No. Not quite a gang.
We aren’t gang types. I don’t want gang types with their need to dominate, rob and terrorize. And yet we might have to dominate. We might have to rob to survive, and even terrorize to scare off or kill enemies. We’ll have to be very careful how we allow our needs to shape us. But we must have arable land, a dependable water supply, and enough freedom from attack to let us establish ourselves and grow.
It might be possible to find such an isolated place along the coast, and make a deal with the inhabitants. If there were a few more of us, and if we were better armed, we might provide security in exchange for living room. We might also provide education plus reading and writing services to adult illiterates. There might be a market for that kind of thing. So many people, children and adults, are illiterate these days… . We might be able to do it-grow our own food, grow ourselves and our neighbors into something brand new. Into Earthseed.
.
Parable of the Sower
19
The ground beneath your feet moves, Changes.
The galaxies move through space.
The stars ignite,
burn,
age,
cool,
Evolving.
God is Change.
God prevails.
EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
FRIDAY, AUGUST 27, 2027
(from notes expanded SUNDAY,
AUGUST 29)
Earthquake today.
It hit early this morning just as we were beginning the day’s walk, and it was a strong one. The ground itself gave a low, grating rumble like buried thunder.
It jerked and shuddered, then seemed to drop. I’m sure it did drop, though I don’t know how far. Once the shaking stopped, everything looked the same-except for sudden patches of dust thrown up here and there in the brown hills around us.
