demanded.
'I'm not. I think that's really what he's feeling. He had tears on his face when he walked away from me. He didn't want me to see that, but I saw it. He has to drive me away or he can't have his dreams. Christian America is teaching him to be the only thing I think he's ever wanted to be—a minister. Like our father.'
She sighed and shook her head. 'So what are you going to do?'
'I... don't know. Maybe the Elfords can suggest something.''
'Them, yes.... Irma asked me while you were gone whether you would be willing to speak to a group of her friends. She wants to have a party and, I suppose, show you off.'
'You're kidding!'
I got up and went to look out the window at a pear tree, dark against the night sky. 'You know, if I could only find my daughter, I would think my life was going along beautifully.'
sunday, september 16, 2035
I've managed to get Marc to meet with me again at last.
He may be the only relative I have left on earth. I don't want him as an enemy.
'Just tell me you'll help my Larkin if you ever find her,' I said.
'How could I do less?' he asked, still with a certain coldness.
'I wish you well, Marc. I always have. You're my brother, and I love you. Even with all that's happened, I can't help loving you.'
He sighed. We were sitting in his building's vast, drab dining room again. This time there were other people scattered around, eating late lunches or early dinners. Most were men, young and old, individuals and small groups. Some stared at me with what seemed to be disapproval. 'You can't know what Christian America has meant to me,' he said. His voice had softened. He looked less distant.
'Of course I can,' I told him. 'I'm here because I do understand. You'll be a Christian American minister, and I'll be your heathen sister. I can stand that. What I find hard to stand is being your enemy. I never meant for that to happen.'
After a while, he said, 'We aren't enemies. You're my sister, and I love you too.'
We shook hands. I don't think I've ever shaken hands with my brother before, but I got the feeling that it was as much contact as he was willing to endure, at least for now.
************************************
Allie and Justin have come to Portland to live. I phoned Allie and told her to use some of the money I left with her to buy a ride up with the Georges. The Elfords have agreed to let the two of them live in their guest house. Len and I have been given rooms above the garage at the home of another supporter—a friend of the Elfords.
That's how I've come to think of these people—as supporters. We speak to groups in their houses. We lead discussions and teach the truths of Earthseed. I say 'we' because Len has begun to take a more active part. She will teach on her own someday, and perhaps train someone to help her. As I write those words, I miss her as though she had already gone off on her own, as though I already had some new young skeptic to train.
Through the Elfords and their friends and the friends of their friends, we've received invitations to speak all over town in people's homes and in small halls. I've found that in each group there is one person, perhaps two, who are serious, who hear in Earthseed something that they can accept, something they want, something they need. These are the ones who will make our first schools possible.
In Acorn, it was no accident that the church and the school were the same. They weren't just the same building. They were the same institution. If the Earthseed Destiny is to have any meaning beyond a distant mythical paradise, Earthseed must be not only a belief system but a way of life. Children should be raised in it. Adults should be reminded of it often, refocused on it, and urged toward it. Both should understand how their current behavior is or isn't contributing to fulfillment of the Destiny. By the time we're able to send Earthseed children to college, they should be dedicated not only to a course of study but to the fulfillment of the Destiny. If they are, then any course of study they choose can become a tool for the fulfillment.