Parable of the Talents - Octavia E Butler Page 0,26
may bear seeds of harm. Beware.
God is infinitely malleable.
God is Change.”
“We have an opportunity that we have to take advantage of,” Travis said. “We have the truck, and we have no real competition. I’ve gone over the truck, and in spite of the way it looks, it’s in damned good shape. The solar wings just drink sunlight—really efficient. If we recharge the batteries during the day, we should save a bundle in fuel. For short trips there isn’t even any need to use anything but the batteries. We have the best vehicle in the area. We can do minor professional hauling. We can buy goods from our neighbors and sell them in the cities and towns. People will be glad to sell us their stuff for a little less if we’re the ones who do the work of getting it to market. And we can contract to grow crops for businesses in Eureka-Arcata, maybe down in Garberville.”
Several of us have talked about this off and on, but today was our first Gathering on the subject since we got the truck. Travis, more than most of us, wanted to risk becoming more involved with our neighbors. We could contract with them to buy the specific handicrafts, tools, and crops that they produce well. We know by now who’s good at what, who’s dependable, and who’s honest and sober at least most of the time.
Travis and I have already been asking around on our now more frequent trips to Eureka to see which merchants night be interested in contracting to buy specific produce from us.
Travis cleared his throat and spoke to the group again. “With the truck,” he said, “only our first truck if we’re successful, we’ve got the beginnings of a wholesale business. Then, instead of depending only on what we can produce and instead of only bartering with near neighbors, we can grow a business as well as a community and a movement. It’s important that we become a self-sustaining economic entity or we’re liable never to move out of the nineteenth century!”
Well put, but not all that well received. We say “God is Change,” but the truth is, we fear change as much as anyone does. We talk about changes at Gathering to ease our fears, to desensitize ourselves and to consider consequences.
“We’re doing all right,” Allie Gilchrist said. “Why should we take on more risk? And why, when this guy Jarret is liable to win the election, should we draw attention to ourselves?” She had already lost her infant son and her sister. She had only her adopted son Justin, and she would do almost anything to protect him.
Michael surprised me. “We could do it, I suppose,” he said, and I waited for the “but.” There was bound to be one with Michael. He obliged. “But she’s right about Jarret. If he gets elected, the last thing we’ll need is higher visibility.”
“Jarret is down in the polls!” Jorge said. “His people are scaring everyone to death with their burning churches, burning people. He might not win.”
“Who the hell do they poll these days?” Michael asked, shaking his head. And then, “We’d better keep an eye on Jarret anyway. Win or lose, he’ll still have plenty of followers who are eager to create scapegoats.”
Harry spoke up. “We aren’t invisible now,” he said. “People in the nearby towns know us, know what we are—or they think they do. I want my kids to have a chance at decent lives. Maybe this wholesaling idea will be the beginning of that chance.”
Next to him, his wife Zahra nodded and said, “I’m for it too. We didn’t settle here just to grub in the ground and live in log huts. We can do better.”
“We might even improve things for ourselves with the neighbors,” Travis said, “if more people in the area know us, know that we can be trusted, it might be a little harder for a rabble-rouser like Jarret or one of his local clones to make trouble for us.”
I doubted that that would prove true—at least not on a large scale. We would meet more people, make more friends, and some of these would be loyal. The rest…well, the best we could hope for from them would be that they ignore us if we get into trouble. That might be the kindest gesture they could manage—to turn their backs and not join the mob. Others, whether we thought of them as friends or not, would be all too willing to join