Butler, Octavia - Parable of the Sower

I gave him a pat on the shoulder and sent him on his way, checking when his back was turned to see that he hadn’t lifted anything. The world was full of thieves. Old people and young kids were often pickpockets.

Nothing missing.

Another man nearby smiled at me— an older, but not yet old black man who still had his teeth, and who pushed his belongings in twin saddlebags hanging from a small, sturdy metal-framed cart. He didn’t say anything, but I liked his smile. I smiled back. Then I remembered that I was supposed to be a man, and wondered whether he had seen through my disguise. Not that it mattered.

I went back to my group where Zahra and Natividad were comforting Dominic and Harry was picking up something from the roadside. I went to Harry, and saw that he had found a filthy rag knotted into a small, tight ball around something. Harry tore the rotten cloth and a roll of money fell out into his hands. Hundred dollar bills. Two or three dozen of them.

“Put it away!” I whispered.

He pushed the money into a deep pants pocket.

“New shoes,” he whispered. “Good ones, and other things. Do you need anything?”

I had promised to buy him a new pair of shoes as soon as we reached a dependable store. His were worn out. Now another idea occurred to me. “If you have enough,” I whispered, “Buy yourself a gun. I’ll still get your shoes. You get a gun!” Then I spoke to the others, ignoring his surprise. “Is everyone all right?”

Everyone was. Dominic was happy again, riding now on his mother’s back, and playing with her hair.

Zahra was readjusting her pack, and Travis had gone on and was taking a look at the small community ahead. This was farm country. We’d passed through nothing for days except small, dying towns, withering roadside communities and farms, some working, some abandoned and growing weeds.

We walked forward toward Travis.

“Fire,” he said as we approached.

One house down the hill from the road smoked from several of its windows. Already people from the highway had begun to drift down toward it. Trouble.

The people who owned the house might manage to put out their fire and still be overwhelmed by scavengers.

“Let’s get away from here,” I said. “The people down there are still strong, and they’re going to feel besieged soon. They’ll fight back.”

“We might find something we can use,” Zahra argued.

“There’s nothing down there worth our getting shot over,” I said. “Let’s go!” I led the way past the small community and we were almost clear of it when the gunfire began.

There were people still on the road with us, but many had flooded down into the small community to steal. The crowd would not confine its attention to the one burning house, and all the householders would have to resist.

There were more shots behind us— first single shots, then an uneven crackling of exchanged fire, then the unmistakable chatter of automatic weapons fire. We walked faster, hoping that we were beyond the range of anything aimed in our direction.

“Shit!” Zahra whispered, keeping up with me. “I should have known that was going to happen.

People out here in the middle of nowhere gotta be tough.”

“I don’t think their toughness will get them through this day, though,” I said, looking back. There was much more smoke rising now, and it was rising from more than one place. Distant shouts and screams mixed with the gunfire. Stupid place to put a naked little community. They should have hidden their homes away in the mountains where few strangers would ever see them. That was something for me to keep in mind. All the people of this community could do now was take a few of their tormentors with them.

Tomorrow the survivors of this place would be on the road with scraps of their belongings on their backs.

“Sounds like women,” Harry said.

I sighed. “Let’s go see. It might just be a matter of pushing some wood off them or something.”

Harry caught me by the shoulder. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” I took the gun out and gave it to him in case someone else’s pain made me useless. “Watch our backs,” I said.

We went in wary and tentative, knowing that a call for help could be false, could lure people to their attackers. A few other people followed us off the road, and Harry hung back, staying between them and us. Bankole shoved his cart along, keeping up with me.

There were two voices calling from the rubble. Both sounded like women. One was pleading, the other cursing. We located them by the sound of their voices, then Zahra, Travis and I began throwing off rubble— dry, broken wood, plaster, plastic, and brick from an ancient chimney. Bankole stood with Harry, watching, and looking formidable. Did he have a gun? I hoped he did. We were drawing a small audience of hungry-eyed scavengers. Most people looked to see what we were doing, and went on. A few stayed and stared. If the women had been trapped since the earthquake, it was surprising that no one had come already to steal their belongings and set fire to the rubble, leaving them in it. I hoped we would be able to get the women out and get back on the highway before someone decided to rush us.

No doubt they already would have if there had been anything of value in sight.

Natividad spoke to Bankole, then put Dominic in one of his saddlebags and felt to see that her knife was still in her pocket. I didn’t like that much. Better she should keep wearing the baby so we could leave at a run if she had to.

We found a pale leg, bruised and bleeding but unbroken, pinned under a beam. A whole section of wall and ceiling plus some of the chimney had fallen on these women. We moved the loose stuff then worked together to lift heavier pieces. At last we dragged the women out by their exposed limbs— an arm and a leg for one, both legs for the other. I didn’t enjoy it any more than they did.

On the other hand, it wasn’t that bad. The women had lost some skin here and there, and one was bleeding from the nose and mouth. She spat out blood and a couple of teeth and cursed and tried to get up. I let Zahra help her up. All I wanted to do now was get away from her.

The other one, face wet with tears, just sat and stared at us. She was quiet now in a blank, unnatural way. Too quiet. When Travis tried to help her up, she cringed and cried out. Travis let her alone. She didn’t seem to be hurt beyond a few scratches, but she might have hit her head. She might be in shock.

“Where’s your stuff?” Zahra was asking the bloody one. “We’re going to have to get away from here fast.”

I rubbed my mouth, trying to get past an irrational certainty that two of my own teeth were gone. I felt horrible— scraped and bruised and throbbing, yet whole and unbroken, undamaged in any major way.

I just wanted to huddle somewhere until I felt less miserable. I took a deep breath and went to the frightened, cringing woman.

“Can you understand me?” I asked.

She looked at me, then looked around, saw her companion wiping away blood with a grimy hand, and tried to get up and run to her. She tripped, started to fall, and I caught her, grateful that she wasn’t very big.

“Your legs are all right,” I said, “but take it easy. We have to get out of here soon, and you’ve got to be able to walk.”

“Who are you?” she asked.

“A total stranger,” I said. “Try to walk.”

“There was an earthquake.”

“Yeah. Walk!”

She took a shaky step away from me, then another.

She staggered over to her friend. “Allie?” she said.

Her friend saw her, stumbled to her, hugged her, smeared her with blood, “Jill! Thank God!”

“Here’s their stuff,” Travis said. “Let’s get them out of here while we still can.”