Parable of the Talents - Octavia E Butler Page 0,122
anonymous. All you can do with them is call and receive, voice only. No screen, no net access, no message storage. But at least we’ll be able to talk to one another.”
“But your chances of surviving alone on the road—”
He got up and walked toward the door.
“Harry!” I said, standing myself.
“I’m tired,” he said. “I’ve got to get some sleep. I’m half dead.”
I let him go. His depression was bad enough. Depression and exhaustion together were too much to fight against. He hadn’t been himself since Zahra’s death. I would let him rest, then try to make him see reason. I wouldn’t try to make him stay, but going alone was suicide. He knew it. Once he had rested, he would be able to admit it.
But the next day—today—Harry was gone.
He left George’s early this morning, buying a ride in a truck headed for Santa Barbara. I didn’t know about it until I saw Dolores this morning. She handed me the note that he had left with her for me.
“I have to go, Lauren,” it said. “Keep the phone with you and stay put. I’ll come back. If I don’t find the kids down south, I’ll help you continue the search up here. Don’t worry, and take care of yourself.”
All his life, he’s been a funny, gentle, bright person with an undercurrent of seriousness. We’ve known one another all our lives, and felt comfortable enough together to be brother and sister. He and Zahra were my best friends. I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve saved one another’s lives.
And now it’s over. Truly over. Zahra is dead. Harry is gone. Everyone is gone. Allie meant to live in Georgetown with Justin. She had the one thing she cared about: her son. And Nina Noyer just wanted to get married and settle down with people who could take care of her and protect her. I don’t blame her, but I find I don’t like her much. Her little sisters might be wearing collars now or living with people who abused and terrorized them in God’s name. Or they might be in some huge warehouse of a children’s home, lost in the crowd, but separated from one another if Justin was right—lost to everyone who had ever loved them.
It isn’t that Nina doesn’t care. She just doesn’t think she can do anything to help them. “I’m not Dan,” she’s told me more than once. “Maybe it means I’m weak, but I can’t help it. I can’t do what he did. I can’t! It’s not fair to expect me to. He was a boy—almost a man! I just want to get married and be happy!”
She’s 16. Her brother was only 15 when he rescued her and brought her to us. But as she says, she’s not him.
SEVENTEEN
❏ ❏ ❏
From EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING
All prayers are to Self
And, in one way or another,
All prayers are answered.
Pray,
But beware.
Your desires,
Whether or not you achieve them
Will determine who you become.
I WONDER WHAT MY life would have been like if my mother had found me. I don’t doubt that she would have stolen me from the Alexanders—or died trying. But then what? How long would it have been before she put me aside for Earthseed, her other kid? Earthseed was never long out of her thoughts. If it didn’t comfort her during her captivity—and I suspect it did—at least it sustained her. It enabled her to survive without giving up or truly giving in to her captors. I couldn’t have helped her. I was her weakness. Earthseed was her strength. No wonder it was her favorite.
FROM The Journals of Lauren Oya Olamina
SUNDAY, APRIL 8, 2035
I’m on my own.
I’ve left Georgetown, left my students old and young, left my room furnished with junk. I left some of my money and one of my guns with Allie so that I’ll have something to fall back on if I’m robbed. I’ve come first to the message cache—two days’ walk—to see whether anything has been left. I’m there now. I’ll sleep there in the shelter of a living coast redwood tree that time and rot have hollowed out enough to hold a human or three. I’ve found unsigned messages from Travis and Natividad and from Michael and Noriko. Both identified themselves by referring to incidents that any member of the community would remember and understand but that would mean nothing to strangers. I did the same in the message I left.