Parable of the Talents - Octavia E Butler Page 0,73
with their own hands. Now…now most of the people here accept the Destiny. They believe me and follow me, and…damned if I don’t worry even more.”
“You never said so.” Bankole reached out and took my hands between his.
“What could I say? That I believe in Earthseed, yet I doubt my own abilities? That I’m afraid all the time?” I sighed. “That’s where faith comes in, I guess. It always comes sooner or later into every belief system. In this case, it’s have faith and work your ass off. Have faith and work the asses off a hell of a lot of people. I realize all that, but I’m still afraid.”
“Do you think anyone expects you to know everything?”
I smiled. “Of course they do. They don’t believe I know it all, and they wouldn’t like me much if I did, but somehow, they do expect it. Logic isn’t involved in feelings like that.”
“No, it isn’t. I suspect that logic isn’t involved in trying to found a new religion and then having doubts about it either.”
“My doubts are personal,” I said. “You know that. I doubt myself, not Earthseed. I worry that I might not be able to make Earthseed anything more than another little cult.” I shook my head. “It could happen. Earthseed is true—is a collection of truths, but there’s no law that says it has to succeed. We can always screw it up. I can always screw it up. There’s so much to be done.”
Bankole went on holding my hands, and I let myself go on talking, thinking aloud. “I wonder sometimes whether I’ll make it. I might grow old and die without seeing Earthseed grow the way that it should, without leaving the Earth myself or seeing others leave, maybe without even focusing serious attention on the Destiny. There are so many little cults—like earthworms twisting and feeding, forming and splitting, and going nowhere.”
“I’ll die without seeing the results of most of your efforts,” Bankole said.
I jumped, looked at him, then said, “What?”
“I think you heard me, girl.”
I never know what to say when he starts talking that way. It scares me because, of course, it’s true.
“Listen,” he said. “Do you really think you can spend your life—your life, girl!—struggling and risking yourself, maybe risking our child for a…a cause whose fulfillment you…probably won’t live to see? Should you do such a thing?” I could feel him holding himself back, trying so hard to discourage me without offending me.
He let my hands go, then moved his chair around closer to me. He put his arm around me. “It’s a good dream, girl, but that’s all it is. You know that as well as I do. You’re an intelligent person. You know the difference between reality and fantasy.”
I leaned against him. “It’s more than a good dream, babe. It’s right. It’s true! And it’s so big and so difficult, so long-term, and as far as money is concerned, it’s potentially so profitless, that it’ll take all the strong religious faith we human beings can muster to make it happen. It’s not like anything humanity has ever done before. And if I can’t have it, if I can’t help to make it happen…” To my amazement, I felt myself on the verge of tears. “If I can’t give it the push it needs, if I can’t live to see it succeed…” I paused, swallowed. “If I can’t live to see it succeed, then, maybe Larkin can!” I found the words all but impossible to say. It was not a new idea to me that I might not live to see the Destiny fulfilled. But it felt new. Now Larkin was part of it, and it felt new and real. It felt true. It made me frantic inside, my thoughts leaping around. I felt as though I didn’t know what to do. All of a sudden, I wanted to go stand beside Larkin’s crib and look at her, hold her. I didn’t move. I leaned against Bankole, unsettled, trembling.
After a while, Bankole said, “Welcome to adulthood, girl.”
I did cry then. I sat there with tears running down my face. I couldn’t stop. I made no noise, but of course, Bankole saw, and he held me. At first I was horrified and disgusted with myself. I don’t do that. I don’t cry on people. I’ve never been that kind of person. I tried to pull away from Bankole, but he held me. He’s a big man.