Ron Hubbard: Black Genesis

Heller was laughing. “Watch it, you’ll get ice cream on you!”

“And then,” said Semantha, “did she sort of walk around like this? Oh, you’ve got to watch her! And pick up her robe like this? And pretend she’d just noticed she was naked, like this, and trail her robe behind her like this and go into your bedroom, looking back at you like this? You watch that Myrtle, pretty boy!”

“The bed isn’t made,” said Heller.

He could see what she was doing now from the multiple reflecting mirrors in the bedroom. “Then,” continued Semantha, “did she poke at your bed like this? And then wonder if it was softer than hers and could she please get in it like this?”

Semantha had gotten in, but not under the covers. She was stretched out stark naked on the bed, legs apart. “And then did she stroke her body like this? Did she, pretty boy? She takes some watching, that Myrtle does! And then did she raise her arms toward you like this and move her hips around like that and tell you that she was feeling sort of empty and needed…”

“Semantha,” said Heller. “Get out of that bed and come in here.”

“Oh, pretty boy,” she pouted. “You’re going to make me stand up and hold that position while you…”

The interference came on. Well, I didn’t need to see any more. It was obvious that he was one of those weirdos that liked odd positions.

Why the Hells couldn’t that (bleeped) taxi driver rush up Utanc? I went out petulantly to call him. He didn’t know what he was putting me through. I tried for quite a while and couldn’t get him. I kicked around the yard and then had dinner.

Actually, I was outraged at Heller’s idea of preparing himself for a Nature Appreciation class. How he could go from his dark den of vice into the bright sunlit world without his conscience withering, I did not know. He was not fit to associate with the dear little children and the charming Miss Simmons in their coming outing. But I knew I could count on Miss Simmons! Heller would catch it! A firm character, Miss Simmons!

The first Nature Appreciation class was apparently being held in the United Nations park between 42nd Street and 48th Street and bordering the East River-just a few blocks from where Heller lived.

It was a beautiful September afternoon: the grass and trees were green and the sky and water were blue. The enormous bulk of the Secretariat Building reared its white slab behind the General Assembly Building and the Conference Building.

Some of the class had already gathered, as scheduled, in front of the Statue of Peace. They were college kids, mostly in jeans and rough clothing; some wore glasses, some did not; some were fat and some were thin. Heller looked them over. None of them were talking to one another or to him: obviously, they were all mutual strangers.

Heller was wearing, I knew from the elevator mirrors, very tailored brushed jeans, his baseball cap and spikes. He must look,a bit out of place — neater and more expensively dressed aside from those two items, cap and shoes. He was also taller than the rest. And he carried a little brushed denim haversack while the rest had satchels or just big purses. It must make him stand out for an occasional eye flicked in his direction, especially the girls.

More class drifted up and now there were about thirty.

And here came Miss Simmons! She was marching with a purpose! She was wearing heavy hiking shoes and, despite the heat of the day, a heavy tweed skirt and jacket. She was carrying a walking stick that looked more like a club. Her brown hair was tightly swept back and imprisoned under a man’s shooting hat.

She came to a halt. She pushed her horn-rimmed glasses up on her forehead so she could see them. She looked them all over. When she came to Heller, she let go of the glasses and let them fall back on her nose. Ah, this was a good sign. I had confidence in Miss Simmons. If all else failed, this was the one who would stop Heller cold! And her opening words encouraged me greatly!

“Oh, there you are, Wister,” she said in front of the whole class. “How is the young Einstein today? Suffering from a swelled head? I hear you used more INFLUENCE yesterday to get out of further tutoring. Well, have no fear, you are not through the barbed wire yet, Wister. The war you so ferociously favor is barely begun!”

She raised her glasses again so she could see the class and proceeded to address them. “Good afternoon, tomorrow’s hope. I always start our Nature Appreciation itinerary here at the United Nations park. The United Nations was founded in 1945 to prevent the further escalation of WAR and atomic war in particular. This hope was then entombed here in these great white mausoleums.

“It is of historical significance that this part of Manhattan was once an area covered with slaughterhouses. It is a very apt and fitting fact.

“The UN, this dark grave of all man’s greatest hopes, has money, authority and POWER! Yet, I must call to your attention that, despite that, these greedy, self-seeking and egotistical MEN sit in these tombs all day every day, all year every year and do nothing but plot ways and means of avoiding their true duties, duties to which they were pledged by the most sacred vows!

“If these craven, base scoundrels had their way, they would blow up the whole world with thermonuclear fission and fusion! Wister, pay attention.” She lowered her glasses and scowled at him.

She raised her glasses and addressed the rest. “So, class, we start with a could-have-been, the United Nations. Everything you see alive throughout this course will soon be dead forever — destroyed by the vicious idleness, the indecision, the behind-the-scenes plotting and downright craven cowardice of the UN. Wister, what are you looking at?”

Heller said, “This grass is standing up pretty good despite the foot traffic. If they didn’t water it with chlorinated water, it would do better.”

“Pay attention, Wister,” said Miss Simmons, severely. “This is a class in nature appreciation, not the use of poison gas! Now, class, and I hope you are taking notes of the important data I am giving you. Do you see that group of men there? I want to call your attention to the smug, maddeningly blithe expressions on the faces of those UN people stalking about the park.”

Heller said, helpfully, “It says on their blue and gold caps and badges ‘American Legion Post 89, Des Moines, Iowa.’ Is that a member country?”

Miss Simmons quite rightly ignored him. “So you must note, class, and note with horror and indignation, the attitude of irresponsibility which prevails here. If these men would only do their duty… Wister, what are you looking at?”

“These leaves,” said Heller. “All in all, these trees are doing pretty good in all these oil fumes from the river. I think the soil is probably slightly demineralized, though.”

“Pay attention to your classwork!” snapped Miss Simmons. “Now, class, if the UN would ever do its duty,

we could end utterly and forever man’s lemming fixation on self-destruction.”

“What’s a lemming?” said a girl.

“They are hordes of horrible rats that go plunging in masses into the sea annually, committing mass suicide,” said Miss Simmons helpfully. “If it wished, in a single, soul-stirring surge, the UN could rise up with clarion voices and cry ‘DEATH TO THE CAPITALIST WARMONGERS’ Wister, what in the name of God are you looking at NOW?”

There were three seagulls lying along the concrete parapet. Their feet were stuck into black blobs of oil, pinning them to the concrete. Two were dead. The third, his feet stuck and his feathers saturated with oil, was still making feeble efforts to get free.