6 What to Want

            “Are you unhappy here, Ch’loi?” Chofa asked after the morning meeting had broke up and the counselors had all gone their separate ways.  She would normally go to her lessons, learning how to read and write and behave in a completely new society but she had lingered and he sensed she wished to speak with him alone.  She sat next to him on his divan, her smallness all the more pronounced by her posture, as if she were trying to fold herself even smaller.  He poured them each a fresh cup of coffee, adding a straw for hers; she was so nearly healed but still struggled with swallowing.  She examined the dark fluid in her fragile cup for a long time before answering.  He was comfortable with the silence.

            “One does not know ‘happy’.  One has heard the word but one cannot smell it.  It makes no fire.” 

            “It makes no fire,” he repeated.  He had learned by now what she meant.  “What is making fire for you?  Where do you burn, Ch’loi?” 

            “Purpose.”

            “Pardon?”

            “One is not useful.  One only takes.  One has no purpose.”

            “A child takes, does a child have no purpose?”

            “A child’s purpose is to grow, one is already in the adult phase.”

            “How did you know your purpose before?”

            “One has always been ruled by need.  The need to obey the Primary.  The need to harvest.  The need to feed the kin.  The need to defend the kin.  Then the Firemaker came and one needed to know where the fire came from, what the fire meant.  This new need was stronger than former needs; it chose a new purpose for one.  Then the kin rejected one and one needed kin.    The Firemaker fed one and made one kin to the Firemaker.  The Firemaker gave one a purpose and one obeyed the Firemaker.  One brought the Firemaker and one to this kin-home.  Now the Primary feeds one, the Primary has made one kin of the Primary.  The Primary defends one.  Now one has no needs but one, a purpose.”

            “You’re purpose is to heal.”

            “The procedures are complete.  One is nearly healed and utilizable again.”

            “You have your lessons…”

            “Learning is necessary, learning is vital, but learning without knowing one’s purpose is inefficient.  One does not know what is best to learn, what will be useful.”

            “Are you asking me for a reason for living or just a job?”

            “Are these not the same thing?”

            Chofa rubbed his eyes.  “I haven’t had enough coffee for this conversation.”

            “May one pour the Primary more?”

            “No, that’s not what I… yes, yes you can!  There, I’ve given you a purpose.” 

            She poured him a fresh cup, fixed it as he liked and handed it back to him.  “The Primary is joking.”

            “Yes he is.  He is stalling because he feels ill equipped to decide your fate, daughter.”

            “Is this not the purpose of the Primary?”

            “It is, but I am actually the Secondary.  Yahweh is the Primary.”

            “One studies the Firemaker’s book and is learning much but one still has this need.  How does the Primary..”

            “Secondary,” Chofa corrected.

            “How does the Secondary..”

            “I’d prefer Father.”

            “How does the Secondary determine the Yahweh’s will in such cases?”

            Chofa set down his coffee and motioned for her to do so.  He enveloped her hands in his great paws and said, “We ask Him.”

Vacation update

i'm on vacation but never fear, that means i have time to work on work that isn't work to me and no one acts like i should be doing something more constructive.  Well, no one but my son who thinks if i'm not throwing, bouncing, splashing, bumping or setting a ball with him then i'm doing nothing.

What Ch'loi wants

            “What is it you desire?” Kurga asked.

            “Pardon?” Ch’loi blinked.

            “Did I startle you?  I’m sorry, milady, I didn’t know how deep in your own thoughts you were.  But we are nearly to the Last Caravanserai and I only wish to know…what now?”

            “A topic I’m rather interested in myself,” Captain Rayjay said. 

            “As am I,” Amisbhake added.

            “You?” Kurga exclaimed, “I thought you were her counselor?”

            “I cannot counsel where my counsel is not asked for.”

            “Tell that to my mother.  Well then, it would seem we are all in the same boat.”

            “Did you really mean to say that?”

            “Say what?”

            “Never mind.”  Amisbhake turned to the small girl staring at the deck of the skiff.  “Child, the time has come.”

            She looked at him then turned to Kurga, “One would like to purchase slaves.”

            “Ah,” he smiled, “I see.  I could have guessed.  And what kind of slaves should I buy for you, children I suppose?”

            She slashed the air with one hand.  “Age is irrelevant.”

            “Oh.  Uh.   Well then, um, do you prefer males or females or..?”

            “Also unimportant.”

            “Well then…ah… could you give me something to go on?  What qualities are important?”

            She focused on the deck again and was silent a long time before she spoke.  When at last she looked at him, he shivered, “One only needs them to be dying.  Preferably of fever.”

Why i think we need more poets, artists and musicians

There are people in Kosovo kidnapping others and harvesting their organs for the black market.  There is a market for illegally harvested organs.  There are people kidnapping girls to use as sex slaves.  There is a market for sex slaves.  There are people selling their sons and daughters.  There is a market for sons and daughters.  There almost isn't a country left that doesn't have unrest and armed fighting in its streets.  There has never been a better time in history to be rich nor a worse time in history to be poor.  There has never been a wider gap between the two.  What used to be sins are now inalienable rights.  Murder is now contraception and assisted suicide.  The church now has a greater divorce rate than the secular world.  Faceless, soulless corporations now have the same rights as people but with far greater power and influence and no conscience.  Children are showing up on our doorsteps, homeless, hungry and afraid and we think the answer is more guns and laws on the doorstep.  Famine, drought and diseases we should have eradicated by now kill millions but we do nothing because those millions are in countries we don't care about.  We build elaborate homes for our cars while others sleep under tarps.  In a world where nothing is wrong, power is the only right.

It's not a lack of resources, laws, guns, money or power or will that's the problem, it's a lack of prophets.

It's a lack of the fear of Yahweh.  It is the prophet's job to call us back, to open our eyes and ears and turn them inward to see the sin in each of our hearts and outward to see the God-man wanting to heal those hearts.  The train of the world is running to the end of the track and it's only picking up steam.  Now more than ever we need to repent and return to God.  Who will call us back?

Destiny

            “Natural beauty ignored and hand built wonders disdained, here I find you with your nose in that book.”  Ch’loi looked up at the voice of Counselor C’yashi.  “If I did not believe you were Ch’voga’s disciple before, you have successfully removed all doubt.” 

            She looked out at the view of the city and surrounding countryside they had from the palace tower.  The quick refocus of near to far hurt her new eyes so she turned back to the book.  “There is much to learn and buildings and mountains are mute teachers with little knowledge.”

            “What?  Little…?  Could you be so blind, child?  Each building tells the story of the builder.  Each home reveals the life of those who dwell within its walls.  All collected they tell the history of a culture and a people and predict its destiny!

            And those mountains, they have seen it all. They stood there ancient, unchanging, unfazed and unmoved long before men dreamed up the words in Ch’voga’s book.”

            “One does not know how to read sticks and stones.”

            “Perhaps one just needs a teacher?”

            She looked at him as he sat down on a bench near where she squatted.  “Perhaps,” she allowed.

            “After all, once you didn’t know how to read the words in Ch’voga’s book either and apparently Chofa’s tutors have that remedied.  As you say, there is much to learn and not all of it can be found in books.”

            “Is the Counselor offering to teach one?”

            “Is one asking the Counselor to teach?”

            “One has teachers.”

            “Yes, I’ve seen.  Many teachers, yet all they teach is that book.  A rather narrow curriculum.”

            “One felt the words of this book make fire.”

            “I confess I have no idea what that means.”

            “One is content.”

            “Ah, I see,” he said.  She turned back to the pages and he seemed lost in thought.  He interrupted her reading a moment later, “you know, it’s a funny thing, destiny.”  She looked up at him.  “If you think about it.  Just a few short years ago, I sat in this same spot, having a very similar conversation with Ch’voga.  I have a.. a talent for seeing the future.  It's what gives me value as a counselor.  I hesitate to call it a gift.  It’s a blessing and a curse really.  Did you know it was I who convinced Ch’voga it was his destiny to be a missionary?  I sent him into that desert.  What grief I bore when he did not return!  What guilt! 

            But now I look at you and think, no.  No, I was right all along.  It was his destiny to find you.  I had not misread the signs.  So, in a way, I’m responsible for bringing you here.  And now here you and I are, in the same spot and destiny verily dances in the air around us.”

            “One is not familiar with destiny.  One heard the Fire-maker.  One made choices.  One obeyed the Fire-maker’s words.  One is here.”

            “Of course you did dear.  I’m not saying any of that is not true.  I’m just saying there are forces arrayed which we do not always perceive but are true as well.  As true as those mountains.”

            Ch’loi looked at the mountains, faded and hazy with distance and her weakened eyesight.  “Does the counselor perceive a ..destiny for one?”

             “No child, such is not the question you should be asking.  No one has the right to tell you what your destiny is.  I cannot claim to know your destiny.  I’m merely … a guide.”

            “To destiny?”

            C’yashi smiled. “To your destiny.  The question you would ask, if only you knew to ask it, is: what do you, Ch’loi, legacy of Ch’voga, most fervently desire?”

Please stand by...

The King of the Cockroaches staff would like you to know we are currently experiencing technical difficulties. Certain staff members are shirking their responsibilities, whining about how hard illustrations can be, day jobs and the like.  We assure you they will receive a thorough fonging.

In the meantime we ask that you please be patient and enjoy this picture of a goat.

Callings

            “Ah Aedlin!” Kurga said.  “They’ve stopped the waterfalls.  And I do believe the lake is smaller too.  Come to think of it, the whole place looks kind of run down.”

            “As long as they still can supply us with water, it could be a shed and a hand pump for all I care.  You will aid Captain Rayjay with the negotiations for our provisions?” Amisbhake asked.

            “Delighted.  The Emperor will probably gift us what we need, so excited will he be to see another holy person.”

            Ch’loi, sitting among the baggage, slashed the air in front of her, yet it was Amisbhake who spoke.  “No,” he said, “you will present us as traders.  Nothing else.”

            “But I thought..”  Kurga looked at the girl, “don’t you want to meet with the Emperor?”

            “Why,” her voice was as light and tremulous as dust lit by stained glass, “would one desire this?”

            “Why?  Why?  Why because I thought the idea was to proselytize.  To spread Yah’s message of peace, love and whatever comes after that.  Ch’Voga seemed rather keen on it.”

            “One is not the Fire-maker.  Aedlin is not one's calling.”

            “Not your.. well, what is your calling?”  But she would not speak anymore and Kurga knew from the look in Amisbhake’s eye that he was not welcome to push.  “Ah, well, all things reveal themselves to the patient.  Looks like a delegation is coming out to meet us anyway.” 

            They came alongside the quay and the gangplank was settled.  The delegation didn’t look threatening or welcoming.  It looked bored.  This was routine.  The toady at its head opened a scroll but never looked at it.  “The Emperor of the Sand Sea welcomes his honored guests to his capitol of Aedlin, the Jewel of the Empire.  He blesses you by the gods and prays your stay here will be one of fortune and good luck provided your papersareinorderandtaxesarepaidinfull.  Here is a list of currencies and trade goods no longer acceptable for tax purposes by order of the Chief Steward.”

            “And how is ol’ Khop these days?” Kurga asked.

            The toady turned one baleful eye in his direction.  “Dead.  Tea is provided for your refreshment as you are to enjoy the privilege of the search of your ship for impurities.  Please to step aside.”  They were made to exit the ship and stand on the quay as the desultory soldiers ransacked their goods looking for contraband. 

            “Probably looking to supplement their pay with whatever they find,” Captain Rayjay grumbled.  “’Impurities’ is probably code for ‘whatever fits in my pocket.’”

            “Oh cheer up Captain and have some lukewarm lake water with some leaves tossed in,” Amisbhake sipped his, “mm, poison sumac I think.”

            “It would seem the jewel of the Empire is anthracite.  Hear now, here’s a familiar face.  Ho there!” Kurga hailed the wharfmaster.  “Well met, friend, what’s the news?”  The wharfmaster began to tell them of his bunion and the horrible fee he would have to pay to have it removed, “yes, yes, I can see how that would be troublesome.  Almost as troublesome as removing and replacing a Chief Steward.”

            “Oh, has Rizzlethop gotten the axe too?  I hadn’t heard!”

            “I’m sure he hasn’t, (long life to him) I was referring to the Khop who was Chief Steward when last I weighed upon your hospitality.”

            “Really?  Had you not heard of his removal?  It came shortly after the succession of course, surely you must have heard.”

            “The succession?”

            “Oh now you’re just poking my belly.  Everyone in the Empire and beyond follows the successions.  Are you so removed from politics?”

            “You would be amazed how far one has to go to hear no news of the Empire.  So the child is no longer Emperor?”

            “Gods, no.  He was called to join a monastery in one of the far off provinces, I forget which one, not being a religious man myself and made his Vizier Emperor in his stead with full rights and lineage of succession.  Very generous.”

            “Yes, very generous indeed, one wonders if he knew what he was doing.  And the people, the people are happy with the new emperor?”

            “People are people,” a dismissive wave, “keep them fed, keep them busy and they don’t really care who sits in the throne room.  But overly principled people, religious fanatics, you know the type,” he elbowed Kurga, “Zealots who take their faith so seriously, they make normal people nervous.  Trust me, the people are better off with a bureaucrat than a crusader.  You know what I mean?”

            Kurga looked over the man’s shoulder at where Ch’loi was squatting and reading Ch’Voga’s copy of the Holy Scriptures under a parasol held by the Royal Counselor who was not a bodyguard.  “Yes, yes, I think I do.”