Butler, Octavia - Parable of the Talents

I stared back at him amazed. "Marc, my daughter—"

"You think you're supposed to care, so you pretend to. Maybe you even want to, but you don't."

I think I preferred it when he hit me. I couldn't react ex­cept to sit staring at him. Tears spilled from my eyes, but I didn't realize it at the time. I just sat frozen, staring.

After a while, my brother turned and walked away, tears glistening on his own face.

By then, I wanted to hate him. I couldn't quite, but I wanted to.

"Brothers!" Len muttered when I told her what had hap­pened. She had waited for me at the Elford guesthouse. She listened to what I told her and, I suppose, heard it according to her own experience.

"He needs to make everything my fault," I said. "He still can't let himself admit what Christian America did to me. He couldn't stay with them if they did such things, so he's decided that they're innocent, and somehow everything is my fault."

"Why are you making excuses for him?" Len 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 said I thought you would do it."

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, september16, 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.

sunday, september30, 2035

I've found a potential home for Travis and Natividad. I've called them several times, and gotten no answer. I worried about them until last night when I reached them. They've been living in a squatter camp a few miles from Sacramento. They went there on a rumor that some of Acorn's children had been seen there. The rumor was false, but their money had run low. They'd had to stop and take jobs doing agricultural work. This was rough because the work paid little more than room and board in horrible little shacks.

They'll come here with the Mora girls and the new Mora baby. I can't restore their children to them, but I can see to it that they have work that sustains them and a decent place to Live. They'll live in the big house that is to be our first school. The house belongs to one of my supporters—one who said those magic words: "What can I do? What do you need?"

What don't we need!

The house is a big empty shell that the Douglas and Mora families will have to work hard on. It needs paint, repairs, landscaping, fencing, everything. But it has living room for a big family upstairs and teaching and working room down­stairs. It will be a new beginning in so many ways. And the people who own it have relatives in both city and state gov­ernment. They're the kind of people Jarret's Crusaders have learned to let alone.

Also, next month, Len and I are invited to teach at several homes in the Seattle area.

tuesday, november13, 2035

I've finally talked Harry into coming north. He's run across the Figueroas and joined with them for the trip. He hasn't found Tabia or Russ, I'm sorry to say, but he has picked up three orphans. He found them on the road just north of San Luis Obispo. Their mother was hit by a truck. He saw it hap­pen and went straight to the kids. There are more and more vehicles on the road during the day now. Walking is becom­ing more dangerous.

As horrible as the hit and run was, I get the feeling it's given Harry what he needs—children to protect, children who need him, children who run to him and hold his hands when they're scared. He and Zahra always said they wanted a big family. He's such a good daddy. I have a teaching job for him in Seattle. I believe he'll thrive in it if he can let him­self.

Jorge Cho and his family are coming. I've found work for Jorge and Di in Portland.

Now I have to look around for places for the Figueroas.