Parable of the Talents

earthworms twisting and feeding, forming and splitting, and going nowhere.'

'I'll die without seeing the results of most of your ef­forts,' Bankole said.

I jumped, looked at him, then said, 'What?'

'I think you heard me, girl.'

I never know what to say when he starts talking that way. It scares me because, of course, it's true.

'Listen,' he said. 'Do you really think you can spend your life—your life, girl!—struggling and risking yourself, maybe risking our child for a... a cause whose fulfillment you... probably won't live to see? Should you do such a thing?' I could feel him holding himself back, trying so hard to discourage me without offending me.

He let my hands go, then moved his chair around closer to me. He put his arm around me. 'It's a good dream, girl, but that's all it is. You know that as well as I do. You're an intelligent person. You know the difference between reality and fantasy.'

I leaned against him. 'It's more than a good dream, babe. It's right. It's true! And it's so big and so difficult, so long-term, and as far as money is concerned, it's po­tentially so profitless, that it'll take all the strong religious faith we human beings can muster to make it happen. It's not like anything humanity has ever done before. And if I can't have it, if I can't help to make it happen...' To my amazement, I felt myself on the verge of tears. 'If I can't give it the push it needs, if I can't live to see it suc­ceed ...' I paused, swallowed. 'If I can't live to see it succeed, then, maybe Larkin can!' I found the words all but impossible to say. It was not a new idea to me that I might not live to see the Destiny fulfilled. But it felt new. Now Larkin was part of it, and it felt new and real. It felt true. It made me frantic inside, my thoughts leaping around. I felt as though I didn't know what to do. All of a sudden, I wanted to go stand beside Larkin's crib and look at her, hold her. I didn't move. I leaned against Bankole, unsettled, trembling.

After a while, Bankole said, 'Welcome to adulthood, girl.'

I did cry then. I sat there with tears running down my face. I couldn't stop. I made no noise, but of course, Bankole saw, and he held me. At first I was horrified and disgusted with myself. I don't do that I don't cry on people. I've never been that kind of person. I tried to pull away from Bankole, but he held me. He's a big man. I'm tall and strong myself, but he just folded his arms around me so that I couldn't get away from him without hurting him. After a moment, I de­cided I was where I wanted to be. If I had to cry on some­one's shoulders, well, his were big and broad.

After a time, I stopped, all cried out, exhausted, ready to get up and go to bed. I wiped my face on a napkin, and looked at him. 'I wonder if that was some kind of postpar­tum something-or-other?'

'It might have been,' he said, smiling.

'It doesn't matter,' I told him. 'I meant everything I said.'

He nodded. 'I guess I know that.'

'Then let's go to bed.'

'Not yet. Listen to me, Olamina.'

I sat still and listened.

'If we stay here, if I agree that you and Larkin and I are going to stay here, this place is not going to be just one more squatter's shanty.'

'It was never that!'

He held up his hand. 'My daughter will not grow up grub­bing for a living through the ruins of other people's homes and trash heaps. This place will be a town—a twenty-first-century town. It will be a decent place to raise a child—a place with some hope of survival and success. Whatever other grand things we do or fail to do, we will do that much!'

'It's an Acorn,' I said, stroking his face, his beard. 'It will grow.'

He almost smiled. Then he was solemn again. “If I accept this, I'm in it for good! If you change your mind after a few hard times ...'

'Do I tend to do that, babe? Am I like that?'

He stared hard at me, silent, weighing.

'I helped you build this house,' I said, referring to the literal meaning of his name, help