Following Amelia dot Calm
An eBook on Radical Social Evolution
Written by: Jos van Poederooyen
‘Our World doesn’t need ‘fixing’,
it needs a chance to become the best it can be’ Amelia
Chapter 1 – A Glass World
It hangs lush and radiant, romancing its domain, a gorgeous garden in a glass globe, flirting with its place in space. As beautiful as Earth’s little sister, it waits patiently for sunbeams to find it in that wood-paneled corner of the room. A magnificent world this terrarium is, full of life, and living large in Amelia’s bedroom.
The entire room is in relation to that artistic piece of living love; it has the room’s purpose in mind and is the only real life there, except for, of course, Amelia; she’s there too, sleeping in her bed. Together, they are the room’s reason for being; they are its conscience and its life.
The terrarium is forty-five centimeters across. It’s been painted with Earth-like clouds and blue marble oceans on its lower half while healthy green vegetation grows inside, thriving against the top half of clear glass that beckons the light in the room. It’s supported by a gracefully curved wooden stand artfully crafted and stained; the stand is about 2 meters high and reaches out from the corner so that the terrarium clears the walls and allows the little world to revolve effortlessly. A halo of soft light sifts from behind the sphere, shimmering the wood wall while glowing the garden growing inside.
A hue of moisture lingers on the glass above the soil line where the painted oceans end and the flourishing greenery rises. It is alive, this beautiful little world, and well thought out to be naturally harmonious. Amelia’s living art is a testament to her that life prefers balance. It’s wondrous to look at; healthy and vibrant and it seems to float out from the corner like a planet in the cosmos…a naturally balanced and flourishing ecosystem.
Amelia, the room’s steward, is 15 years old and intends on making a difference. Amelia is a composite of typical everything, blended perfectly; if there is such a thing. Her thick locks bounce along her shoulders, framing her youthful face. Her bright eyes are sharp and clear, inquisitive and aware. Her strength is her character and it possesses her face and lanky frame whenever she expresses her passions and ideas benefitting nature and saving the planet from greed and control, or worse.
Her purpose is to be a fierce advocate for social evolution: Creating Social Conscience, Enacting Environmental Stewardship, and Eliminating Poverty and War. She sees all of the world’s challenges as connected and they absorb most of her thinking time. The evil players at the helm of global systems are her adversaries and she is certain that purposeful change is essential and possible. Her Gramps taught her that we are all responsible for how we live and interact with the planet.
‘Forget about fighting for it, conflict breeds conflict,’ he’d say in one of his many rants, ‘we’re advanced enough to make decisions for the planet on a global democratic level; we have the technology. Let’s vote on things as the people of Earth, in unison. That’s global, that’s progress. Be aware together instead of divided up into competing nations; that costs us lives, freedom, and abundance. Leaders like division, in fact, they need it; without division, they wouldn’t have their jobs. It’s the old divide and conquer battle strategy to control the masses, but age-old systems of division don’t have a place in today’s global world; that’s a fact.’
After all, Gramps had shown her many things to question; how to question, whom to question, and now, at least in her mind, there is no question about her being an advocate for change. She believes socially evolving is the solution to the ineffective, top-down leadership which is at the core of the global issues. Change is required for the planet, for humanity’s sake, and for humanity’s conscience going forward. She’s certain about her purpose and it shows in her actions and her rooms décor and message.
Her room, at the top of the stairs in the older country house, is a statement of activism and awareness of all living things and the human races’ place amongst them. Posters of Earth, Vegan lifestyle, Peta for animal rights, pictures of Pamela Anderson and Steven Hawking, The Beatles ‘Love’ poster, and an old green ‘70’s bumper sticker stating in white block letters ‘Whirled Peas’ are all hanging proudly on the walls. There are handwritten commitments to the world signed by Amelia pasted here and there. The terrarium is the focal point and proof of balance, while the rest of the room pleads for environmental sanity and peaceful global contribution. We can do better on being human, for each other and the planet; that’s what Amelia’s room believes.
Gramps helped plant the lush ecosystem before sealing the glass terrarium and that same flora flourishes in it now, even though he passed more than three years ago. Amelia sees it as a validation of their beliefs and, that they are still somehow connected.
Gramps taught Amelia to keep the government honest and to cherish quality and craftsmanship as honorable to people and the planet,
‘Get things for life,’ he’d say. ‘If you have an electric drill made in the sixties, it’s probably still working and will most likely outlast drills that you buy today. Today, we’re going backward in quality and engineering so things intentionally break down, creating consumerism to fake an economy to support the capital model that creates the class structure. Don’t play party to it, those ways don’t serve us anymore, it’s that straightforward,’ he would say.
Amelia lies sleeping in the sunlit room until she throws herself awake,
“NO! Not Hawking! He’s not food. Darn it; don’t you EAT HIM!” she demands desperately while waking thrust up in bed to reality. Amelia turns hurriedly to pull Hawking off the shelf and snuggle cuddles him before she swings her legs over the edge of the bed to sit and regroup.
“I’d never let them harm you, Hawking . . . I’d save you,” Amelia pledges to the teddy bear lamb in a fairy tale moment of loving friendship. She’s earnestly addressed Hawking since she was a child, and occasionally still does. Gramps gave him to her when she turned three.
Now fully awake and satisfied Hawking is safe, she places him on her pillow and slides from the sheets to the jade-green rug on the wood floor, deftly slipping into her handmade pink and white slippers.
Now ready to start her day, she ambles over to the dresser where she keeps her 1970’s component system turntable and goes through her daily ritual to make music happen. For the last step, she flicks the lever down to drop the tonearm, enjoying the ‘dwopsquish’ sound of the needle hitting the vinyl. She steps back as the needle finds the groove to rumble the sound of recorded silence until finally, the music begins to play.
It’s an old one, ‘All You Need is LOVE’ by ‘The Beatles’ given to her on her 10th birthday. Amelia gleefully gyrates at the start of the song doing her patented, ‘it’s playing’ swivel move.
The Beatles were Gramps favorite band and he made many references to them when he spoke about change and evolution, and how much better vinyl sounds ‘than today’s consumer crap’ as he’d say often enough.
She lets the song pick up her mood for a while as she stands in front of the turntable thinking. Then Amelia begins swirl dancing in her sanctuary, alone at first, but after a while she picks up Hawking and sings, “Love! Love! Love!” along with The Beatles.
She hugs Hawking and declares,
“We can guide the world with Love, Hawking,” as she spins, “When Love’s the main ingredient, society will be fascinating. We’d be an amazing race,” she acknowledges as she basks where the bright morning sun shines igniting the thought, “Technology, Love, and Contribution. Ya, that’s it, ‘TLC’ and that would equal paradise. ‘TLC’ for the win; Alex!”
Spinning to the space in front of the terrarium, Amelia quietens and speaks directly to the little world as the song refrains its ending and Hawking listens in,
“Love, it really is all we need; caring for our planet and all Life on it. Stewardship; Right, Gramps?”
She smiles up to where he might be, then returns to the turntable and flips the tonearm up before the next song on the album plays. Her eyes rise to the Earth poster above the stereo and she imagines all of humanity in love with Earth and themselves.
Her thought is broken with her clashing awareness and she says,
“Power stirring greed is just a bad recipe for humankind, and we know it. We know better; it all leads to pain and corruption. Humans instinctively contribute to family and community but the way they organize the world now, it stresses us all out to the max, and most people act out on that stress, making a mess in most of society. If humanity could vote on it, we sure wouldn’t vote for this.”
Turning to the mirror beside the poster, Amelia questions herself,
“Holy Smokes! What’s up, Amelia?” she queries herself, “I sound like a rogue teacher preacher today. Is Ms. Petty rubbing off on me or what?” she giggles.
She puts her fingers to her temples while bending her head down and squeezes her eyes shut to make a wish,
“Oh, I wish I could change the system! I wish I wish, I wish I could.”
Amelia opens her eyes slowly; feeling determined. She takes three deep breaths with purpose; closing her eyes inhaling and opening them on exhale. Relaxed and reinvigorated, she starts humming ‘Love’ again and enthusiastically says,
“It’s so true. With our level of technology and knowledge, the whole world could easily be happy if that’s what we set our minds to,” but shaking her head she adds remorsefully, “It’s pretty obvious they don’t think love is the answer; I wonder what they really do think is the answer?”
She turns to give the terrarium another gentle caress, adoring it thoughtfully.
Mom calls faintly lilting from downstairs,
“Amelia, please come down, time to eat and get ready for school.”
“Oh great, time to do what they say; eat this, learn that, don’t question anything, and be a quiet follower.” She sighs in challenge, “Time to get straight ‘A’s’ so I can become a successful monster and proudly help destroy the world in the name of progress. Yuck!”
She glides her hand over the terrarium one last time and says,
“I love you. It’s so obvious that we could steward paradise, just like you Terra, if we worked with love and caring instead of profit and control.”
Amelia goes to the bathroom and comes out dressed in jeans, sneakers, and her favorite blue t-shirt. It has the blue marble Earth on the front with the words, ‘Our Home’ below it and it makes her feel optimistic about another day.
She walks over to the dormer window and wonders while looking at the field beyond that has the tree, stream, and cows.
She whimsically shares to the serene scene in general,
“Oh well, time to go downstairs, might as well make the best of it. After all, Life is what you make it.”
Amelia twirls once more before leaving the room lighthearted and optimistic, once again humming ‘Love’ happily. At the top of the stairway, she hears the TV news anchor state that the top three things citizens are most concerned about this election are the economy, corporate corruption and war.
‘Not if you took a real poll,’ she reasons in her mind, then she says,
“We’d say we want enough food and shelter, protection from calamities and disease, we want time with family, we want peace and freedom so we can live out our passions anywhere in this world. Duh!” she mutters while descending into her Mother’s world.
Chapter Two – The Kitchen Gauntlet
Amelia walks down the hallway marveling that her Mom believes the spin the newscast offers and muses sadly,
“Sheesh, Mom thinks it’s OK for us to be hooked on news and advertising; as if it didn’t instruct us what to think. What to desire. Who to believe. How to be normal. Yikes.”
As Amelia walks into the bright white and yellow country kitchen, Mom raises her head up from the pot on the stove to say “Good morning, honey,” but doesn’t turn around. Mom is tall and her hair falls casually simple to a few inches above her shoulders; she looks stylishly country in her blue summer dress adorned with white polka dots.
Amelia replies, “Morning, Mom,” then surveys the table to see milk, meat, and eggs with bread and fruit all neatly arranged on the red and white checkered tablecloth. Feeling insulted, she says,
“Oh Mom, you know I’ve made up my mind and I won’t eat animals anymore. And your old school offerings aren’t enticing me; I’m not a hard-core carnivore anymore,” she says, then, “ OK, please?” she adds for good measure, scratching on some leftover irritation from her morning nightmare.
Mom’s face is etched in sorrow after Amelia’s remark, and she’s stays turned away from Amelia.
A moment passes before Mom responds, first talking toward the stove,
“I wish you never got interested in this whole ‘Save the World’ thing. Your Gramps should have kept his views to himself. Vegan this and PETA that, and then question everything else. Everything! You seem to think most of what society does is wrong.”
Mom turns around to add, “You’ll never enjoy life that way, honey.”
“Do you enjoy life, Mom?” she asks looking straight into her mom’s eyes, “Always working, stressing about money, hardly having time to see Dad or me, always worried about the politics and crime and economy. When Dad gets home, he’s more interested in the news than you until it’s over, and then all he does is talk about it. Most adults are so stressed or depressed they’re frustrated and angry; it’s true, right?”
Amelia hears herself and wonders if her rebellion is part of growing up, still, she asks acidly,
“Am I right, Mom?”
Her Mom, visibly shaken with her daughter’s accusation, can only muster,
“Amelia, please eat something.”
“I’m not eating something that was tortured and killed in front of friends and family, treated like a villain by humans for being alive and worth more dead . . . that’s not my style, Mom. I’ll take the fruit, thanks.”
Mom responds with terse confidence,
“Amelia, I’ve told you, you have nice ideas but they’ll never work. It’s not a simple world. There will always be war, poverty and slaughterhouses, it’s just the way people are; you can’t change that, honey. Money makes the world go round and that’s the way it works.
“Your Gramps had too much time on his hands and this whole internet thing affected him, and now it’s affecting you. It’s nice you care but you can’t let it destroy your life. Really honey, I love you. Let it go. The world doesn’t need saving; not by you anyway.”
“Mom, I know you believe what you’re saying to me, but I don’t think you know what you’re saying because none of that’s true at all,” and she looks pleadingly at her mom before she adds, “I don’t believe anything because some government told me this is the way it is or has to be, and neither should you.”
Amelia tries to calm down her voice, but fails,
“It’s up to the people to be ‘We the people!’ Real change comes from within, from ‘real people’ that really care.” Amelia peaks with, “Our world needs people that believe in stewardship and it’s being led by people intent on ownership!”
Amelia’s voice begins to tremble near the end of her speech and she just wants to get out now, to get away. Amelia feels sad about Mom’s belief that change can’t happen and it frustrates and irritates Amelia that her own family is so intentionally docile about making the world a better place.
“I’ll never believe we have to torture life to be civilized or that greed is something to aspire to!” she blurts out, “Never! It’s Neanderthal. It’s all a lie to stifle human evolution! Propaganda blinds us to buy into the horror so a few people can make money from the masses. I believe in love and caring and nurturing things; I don’t believe chasing money serves a purpose anymore!”
Her Mom stays turned away, now simply staring into the sink. Mom obsessively thinks Amelia has lost her way and Amelia senses this.
“Mom,” she stammers, eyes wide, “Mom, can’t you see change is desperately necessary? Evolution is a normal part of all life.”
Mom just shakes her head quietly sad, fidgeting over the drain, ‘what does that even mean?’ she thinks dispassionately.
Amelia feels unheard, trivialized and she spins toward the door, cross that her eyes are tearing up against her will. After all, Mom has never discussed Amelia’s beliefs with her; Mom only tells her it won’t work, it can’t happen and it’s a waste of time and effort. Despondent, she feels completely let down by her Mom and she just wants to get out.
She storms out of the kitchen with the screen door noisily slapping against the metal frame. She escapes toward the dirt lane that leads to the school. The green weed lined lane runs along a fence that borders the large pasture her dormer looks out on to; the one with the stream and trees near the middle, the one with the cows.
After a short while, Amelia slows down to a reflective walk thinking about discrimination, poverty, and money; and how people are okay with just leasing a life they don’t own. Close to the school, she stops at the entry gate to the field. Bright dandelions and tall weeds adorn the post hinged to the gate. She loves the view with the tree so far in the distance, beside the lazy stream. ‘It would be so beautiful to be there now,’ relishes Amelia while absorbing the scene.
In a few moments, her mood begins to soften as the field of beautiful life on the other side of the fence works its magic on her. She knows her only choice is to go to school and begins to walk on again, but happier than she was.
Chapter 3 – The Telling Machine Gets Told
‘Civilization’ and ‘System’ are the only two words written on the blackboard, with a line pointing from each to a large circle below the words.
Amelia gazes out the window to the field as the teacher, Ms. Petty, begins teaching by telling, or as Amelia likes to think of it, the Petty Preacher Teacher Program.
“So, in this lesson, I will teach you how modern systems and science feeds our world and protects our health; take notes because this will be on the test,” as she scans the class engagingly, “Without modern systems, people couldn’t survive due to overpopulation. Systems make our cities livable by transporting food, and all necessities and services to the people. Science helps us maximize livestock and agriculture yields and science also protects us from disease and premature death. The system is complex and we are completely dependent on it; thank god for that!”
Still looking out at the field, Amelia shakes her head and grunts, giving in to the frustration that’s been welling inside her all morning. The teacher notices but continues,
“Our system of …”
Amelia whispers into her fingers,
“Greedy, creepy, cruel … inhumane profit centers,” and she shakes her head low and close to the desk.
“Something to say, Amelia?” asks Miss Petty who is no stranger to Amelia’s save-the-world beliefs.
Feeling feisty, Amelia jumps up with,
“Ya, OK! It’s not modern supply chains, they’re archaic money makers, we’ve evolved enough to be better than that now on multiple fronts. We’re inhumane. We’re barbaric. Wise use of technology can do so much better. It’s kept like this for profit and control. That! And … that’s exactly why I grunted!”
“OK, I understand your empathy, Amelia, but how would you feed the world?” Ms. Petty slyly adds while opening her arms wide to the class, “Or, should we starve so that animals can live?”
“That’s right; animals would live fabulously if we didn’t. You know it too; although, we could all live together well but that depends on humans. Live with life and nature as guides instead of corporations chasing unbalanced profit, creating pain in the process. A few people benefit while most of the world suffers from the corporate business pyramid you call necessary. It’s evil.”
The class sits spellbound by the tug of war; Amelia’s really on it today.
“If we want a good life and world, we must do well for life and world! As the self-appointed masters of this planet, we are the ones empowered to promote balance. Let’s do that! Let’s do well for everything since we’re in charge.”
The teacher feels Amelia’s power of belief surging and knows she must quell this new-found confidence the child is displaying in front of the others. It’s imperative to remain in control of the class, and the telling of the way it is, and how it must be.
She replies logically and calmly,
“Well, profit creates our standard of living and lifestyle. This is how the world works and there’s no good reason to change it. It’s our system and it serves us well.”
The teacher nods curtly, agreeing with herself certainly.
“Well, your system is corrupt and self-serving. Yes, we’re advancing our technology but some things are so much worse because of how we manipulate progress. We’re selling our souls and the planet for military and corporate control of everything; politics, governments, and the environment. This system totally disgraces our evolution, our humanity, our potential, and the planet’s health.
“We were enhancing our society for ages and ages, but now we’re going backward; we’re destroying our world and misusing technology to further mindless greed, power, and control. Why can’t you see that? Money doesn’t make things better, it creates abusive competition. Contribution improves things. Caring improves things. Love improves things!”
The teacher feels like a lost cause so Amelia turns to the class to say,
“This system they say is essential for humans is actually creating mass dependence on corporate offerings. It’s stealing the world and natural living from humanity to put it all into a stock market.”
Some of the kids chuckle quietly, but most remain wide-eyed at Amelia’s conviction today as she states her case.
She turns back to Ms. Petty to continue the assault,
“It’s all propaganda that you’ve bought into without question; and now you preach teach it to us! We have to continue evolving; these times are the twenty twenties, it’s not the Industrial Age anymore. Your model is like old steam trains being used in today’s world; they can still do what they were intended to do, but they’re outdated now, they don’t serve these times so it’s dumb to use them.
“A capital social model today is impractical; it might still be operational, but it doesn’t serve these digital global times. Class structure is unnecessary today and it creates so much poverty and pain. Let’s reap the full benefits of our unified race and end war to boot.”
She glances back at her friend Kevin for a moment, looking for support and he looks right back at her in proud agreement. He sits straighter in his seat and he nods his head certainly. He looks directly at Ms. Petty as he nods, taunting her, then back to Amelia, who, unable to process the frustration of the moment, begins to break down and wheels back to the teacher, glaring through tear-filled eyes.
Critical of the absolute faith the teacher is parading without considering all the options, she thinks, ‘the teacher is unwilling to question anything, she’s teaching the narrative she was taught 30 years ago.’ Nevertheless, Amelia knows enough to draw the line.
Fuming, Amelia escapes through another door, the second one this hour. She bolts from the classroom, out the building and runs across the schoolyard, scaling the wooden gate with the ‘Do Not Trespass’ sign on it to run far into the field, where the tree, the stream, and the cows are.
When the teacher walks out the door toward the office to report the child’s behavior, her classmates all run to the windows watching her, debating if she’s got a point or not. They start voicing their real opinions without the teacher present and most think Amelia’s pretty bang-on with most of her views. They’re all warily watching for the teacher as they speak in hushed tones.
“Man, Amelia’s got balls”, says Boomsie, probably the most popular kid in the school, “You’ve just got to respect her belief and conviction,” he assures as many agree.
Kevin, Amelia’s most loyal friend and supporter says in earnest belief,
“We’re being programmed in school to buy into rule and system and we’re taught to believe it without question, and that’s stupid. We should question everything because we are changing all the time. Media programs us too. And News. And, commercials affect us, that’s why companies and politicians pay huge money to run them, they influence us.”
Feeling his oats, Kevin points his right hand with stretched index toward the blackboard with the words civilization and system to make his next point. He says,
“The powerful all pay to influence your opinions: politicians, corporations, industries; they know how propaganda works and they pay up big time because it’s been made legal. They spend more money influencing our thinking than on solving the world’s problems.”
Chapter Four – House Call
The phone rings in Amelia’s house and her mother answers the call upstairs, near Amelia’s room. Mom listens while looking into the room and finally says,
“Oh, I am sorry, Ms. Petty. She was a little wound up here this morning too.”
Mom meanders into Amelia’s room admiring the various elements of her daughter’s statement of concern décor as she engages the conversation thoughtfully.
Ms. Petty continues,
“She has nice intentions but she can’t see how impossible her ideals are. They’re unattainable. Our world doesn’t work that way; and it never will.”
Nodding, her Mom says,
“Well, she gets a lot of ideas from those books and websites.”
As she speaks, she lovingly runs her hand over an old globe elegantly supported on a small wooden stand on the desk,
“Normal people just want things to stay the same, same as they’ve always been,” she says as her fingers trace over the letters, U.S.S.R. She’s oblivious to the irony between her beliefs, her words and, her fingers.
“Well, no more outbreaks because she can’t save the world, no matter how much she cares or thinks she can. Besides, it’s disruptive to the other students. We need common ideas to keep this world the way we want it,” scolds Ms. Petty
Mom spins the globe as she turns away frustrated. She thinks of Amelia standing up to the teacher the way she did to her this morning and it disturbs and saddens Mom. She turns and drifts toward the terrarium her daughter loves so much. ‘It’s a great example of balance in life,’ Amelia would always claim. Mom marvels Terra while speaking, sliding her fingers over the smooth surface, sensing the thriving life within.
“She does believe in her ability to make a difference,” says Mom, idly wishing Amelia would simply grow up. “The world won’t change, not by her anyways; it’s too bad,” she agrees.
“It is,” the school lady confirms, “but the world doesn’t need saving, and certainly not by a child whose only solution is love.”
Mom laughs as she says,
“That’s my Amelia. She thinks love will fix everything in her world. Where is she now?”
“In the field by the school,” says the teacher, “we’ll keep our eye on her. She appears to be talking to a cow. She’s fine for now.”
Mom ends the call by saying,
“Well, I hope the cow and her can find a solution together,” while still caressing the terrarium and looking out the dormer window to the faraway field her daughter is in, “thanks, goodbye.”
At school, the teacher shakes her head walking back toward the disrupted class. The children immediately stop voicing their opinions when Miss Petty enters; she knows they are scared of her hearing their real thoughts, and the control over them pleases her. The kids and teacher contemplate Amelia, so small and insignificant in the distance.
“It’s too bad,” the teacher muses, “a waste of a good mind.”
Kevin shakes his head as he looks at Ms. Petty ruefully.
Most of the class admire Amelia and believe she’s on the right track; extensive change is necessary, they seem to agree. This way isn’t working very well at all, all things considered; even though they’re trained to not consider all things. In fact, they’ve been trained to not think for themselves at all.
Martin says, “Some things definitely require a change or a fixup, and that’s for sure.”
‘We’re better than this’ is the classes general perspective. ‘Change will happen sometime’ is their hope.
Ms. Petty can sense her class’s overall sentiment and knows she has to correct it.
Chapter 5 – Where Are Your Ears?
Hugging the cow underneath the tree, Amelia has her arms stretched lovingly around its neck. The cow is enjoying the attention and gazes at Amelia soothingly. The ducks in the lazy stream by the overhanging tree are comfortable enough with Amelia being there, so close, crying and muttering.
“It’s not right. It’s not fair. This isn’t learning, this is forced fed stooge training. They’re cruel, they just want control of people and more profit without conscience. Their way certainly isn’t the only way; I’m not theirs to mold and shape.”
She shudders and further laments to her newfound sanctuary,
“It’s inhuman,” she tells the cow, “I hate being human. I want to love and be love, love our planet, to love all life; like you littles duckies, and you, Mr. Tree, and you, you loveable cow,” nodding with her arms still around the cow’s neck. “Love Life! That’s who I am. Teach! Me! That!” she says loudly to Ms. Petty, who’s not there at all.
She looks over her shoulder to the schoolhouse scornfully, and as she turns back her eye spies Cawfwee with a jolt.
He’s rising from under the water and is still neck-deep, though his head and hair are perfect. Without ripples or splashing, he struggles out of the stream, though his clothes are dry as a bone. He mutters, “Slippery slopes,” as he blunders out trying to keep his balance, passing near the ducks who watch him unfazed, quietly observing and intrigued.
He gingerly totters along the shoreline in his suit with his arms winged out to the sides for balance, and his shoes leave no prints on the smooth boulder shoreline. Accompanying him is a shiny round tech device, with a lens, that intuitively floats beside him like a helium balloon might.
Cawfwee is middle-aged with thick grey hair. He’s tall with a noble grace and a gentle, child-like demeanor; he looks almost human except he doesn’t have ears and he introduces himself proudly once near Amelia.
“Hello, my name is Cawfwee, may I comfort you, assist you, help you in any way? You seem to be in a bit of a kerfuffle,” he begins genuinely in his halting, gaited speech.
Cawfwee speaks in rhythmic cadences, in three or four word groupings, and his choice of phraseology tells of a well mastered, second language proficiency.
A stiff white collar is paired with his finely-tailored suit made from splendid materials in a gleaming blue sheen and hangs well from his lean physique. His grey hair dignifies his sculpted facial features and Cawfwee looks like a foreign diplomat.
She has a strong sense of his earnest nature though, and in her surprise, she timidly replies,
“Hi, my names Amelia . . .” and then she adds more boldly, cocking her head with teenage curiosity while studying him, “Hey, how did you do that? You’re not at all wet and you, you don’t even have ears! And, there’s a camera, thingy, drone, floating above you, um, somehow!”
More determinedly, she asks,
“C’mon, what’s going on?”
Cawfwee replies quickly,
“I am sorry. I forgot to do my mirror check when I heard you so flummoxed.”
He pulls out a pocket mirror out of nowhere and looks into it,
“Better?” he asks, as his ears appear with a ‘ploop’ sound. He waves them back and forth a couple times while looking at Amelia and says,
“I like doing that with my ears.”
He puts the mirror away and smiles mischievously.
With ears, Cawfwee looks like a well-dressed avant-garde fellow; although there is still something uncommon about him she senses, something she cannot quite define, and it’s not only the fact that he can easily move his ears back and forth like a cat might.
Even so, Amelia is happily startled,
“Oh my! How . . . did you do that? Who are you? What are you?”
Her eyes bulge at him, trying to take it all in.
Cawfwee responds informatively while trying to be being polite,
“The camera drone is a doohickey for a documentary I am doing on you Marau …, sorry, I mean the human race. It responds when I call it Cam, and it records whatever I require; it has intuitive intelligence. I will answer more of your questions if you tell me why you hate being human, and why you are crying, and why you appear to love the cow … and nature?”
“Wow, OK,” Amelia reasons. ‘Gramps always said everything happens for a reason, so let’s see what this is about,’ she muses to herself. She’s looking directly at Cawfwee, eager to state her case to someone who’s actually asked.
Besides, she believes that the Universe creates synchronicities, ‘and this is that,’ she concludes.
She looks at Cam, then back to Cawfwee and purposefully begins,
“I’m crying because society is so cruel; we mistreat animals, people, and our planet. Plus, they’re trying to train me to become like them, that’s what schools are for, to normalize the systems. I don’t want to live like that. I want to live in harmony and love with all living things and especially our planet.”
Cawfwee is dumbfounded. His ears are twitching wildly and his eyes are questioning Amelia. His mind is racing with the possibility that the assessment was somehow flawed, incorrect, bad science. Perhaps the intelligence was skewed, superficial. By being overly secretive and unobtrusive, they may have gotten the planetary data incorrect.
Thunderstruck, he utters,
“I am gobsmacked. You care about the Life Force? We thought this to be a race of Marauders, but listening to you, I am changing my mind swiftly. Amelia, are there others like you? Do others sense the Life Force?”
Amelia giggles at his choice of words and notices, ‘he doesn’t seem to use contractions when he speaks.’
Cam moves back to capture both of them in frame, remaining keenly intuitive to their actions and discussion.
Amelia tracks Cam’s positioning warily as she continues,
“Yes, there’s many more that think like I do but we are silenced within the unquestioning masses. And, of course, I believe in Life Force! It’s … it’s how life works; everything supporting everything, everything sharing toward the whole! Energy everywhere, empowering and dancing the love of life purposefully impassioned; it’s the Life Force we all naturally share! It’s what makes everything, everything.”
Cawfwee is taken aback; he asks probingly,
“However humans are destroying this planet; they are a barbaric society; humans behave as if they are Marauders; morbid, cruel, and destructive. If you are not Marauders and if you are aware of life force and disagree with how things are run, why do you allow the carnage? How can you live with yourself knowing that?”
Confidence swells in Amelia; she wants to answer these questions. Standing up straight she demonstratively puts her hands on her hips. ‘This’, she thinks, ‘is going somewhere.’
“Poverty exists because class structure needs a class that nobody wants to be. War details the need for militaries and militaries control the citizens, us or them, it doesn’t matter; militaries control whomever militaries are paid to control. What’s good for humanity or our planet is at best secondary to leadership’s mandates and that’s based mostly on profits.”
Amelia looks trustfully toward Cawfwee and continues,
“We are indeed advancing as a race, but we’re also held back by old concepts and a political structure that no longer serves our world. They don’t plan long term for natural disasters even though we know they’re coming. Governments do plan for war without planning for healing. We are taught to fear the enemy and our enemies are taught we’re the enemy; and that’s just not right, or true.”
Amelia looks at the cow who is still right beside her, quietly listening, as is Cawfwee, and he’s transfixed.
“We wouldn’t be able to provide food to cities if something drastic happened, like an earthquake; cities create mass dependence on corporate offerings. They started as businesses but now they’ve become corporate, and they’re frighteningly greedy. In our digital world, cities don’t make sense anymore, they’re outdated, but they sure do serve corporations well. Food is one of our primary needs and the only plan we have is maximizing the profit made from controlling it. Can you believe it?” Amelia’s conviction shows as she scans his reaction.
“How do our governments even permit systems without contingency plans for food during emergencies? Why does corporate wealth come first?”
Cawfwee gazes at Amelia while slowly shaking his head, unable to answer, let alone comprehend the truth within her tower of questions.
“It’s stupid and short-sighted based on our technological abilities, we’re misusing our intelligence to fulfill greed,” announces Amelia adamantly. “It’s mass dependency so governments and corporations can profit from the basic needs of people. It’s unbelievable,” she assures, dramatically stomping her foot on the sod underneath.
She looks at Cawfwee wide-eyed and certain,
“We have the technology and knowledge. Populate Mars? Of course they will use technology wisely. Here? Not so much. Maybe they don’t want to get it right because they’ll be out of a job; no more ruling class. After all, inequality has no place in an advanced society.”
Amelia feels the load coming off her shoulders as she pontificates and Cawfwee listens intently.
“That’s why we’re taught what we are taught; to keep the class structure for the top eighty million people to have their lifestyle; they’re the one percent the rest of the people dream and wish to be.”
Bewildered, Cawfwee is in wonderment and perplexed at the same time.
“But . . . the people are The Many. The leaders are so few. Why do their bidding? That is strange; your dogma is blatant gobbledygook. Humans have the technology to be a unified collaborative race; the responsibility of choice is the right of The Many once you reach this stage. An intentionally peaceful world will then be your home and paradise.”
As Amelia nods in agreement while Cawfwee considers the human plight and says,
“You have reached that stage of digital evolution where it is important to socially evolve to become all you can be. Your race is realized enough to know you are all one on this planet; just like the many other civilizations on any of billions of planets. Maximize your knowledge and technology to experience actualization and the peace that comes with it, it is always the best outcome. Why not be the best race you can be? Humanities next step is to become one to empower your full potential.”
Amelia vigorously agrees by nodding her head followed by counting out each reason out on her fingers,
“Media. Advertising. Propaganda. History Training and Education. It’s government systems of indoctrination; it normalizes this way of life to children and we can’t question it without intense opposition. They program us to accept a ruling class, politics, and inequality then test us to ingrain this system into the students before we can pass; and passing in school is everything; education is fundamental to keeping the status quo. Most people will swear education and propaganda don’t affect their opinions; try to believe that! They think their opinions are theirs and that the media just happens to think like they do.”
Cawfwee’s ears flap back and forth while his jaw is slack and mouth slightly agape.
“Media’s been shaping most people for the past 200 years; they trust in the media like it’s gospel. Most don’t even want to see it as propaganda; they’ll tell you right away you’re a conspiracy theorist; they believe themselves when they say the things they’ve been trained to say.”
Amelia thumps her head with the heel of her hand and exclaims,
“I’m not making this up! The people behave like zombies that honor and idolize people that are slowly stealing their liberties and disrespecting their planet. They’re perched on the edge of global war, poverty, pollution, and disease and they patriotically defend this lifestyle and disparity by saying, ‘It’s the way it is, live with it,’ without a further thought. Can you believe it?”
Amelia stares at Cawfwee and warps up with,
“We’re easy I guess, easily led people; we’re sheeple. The Few control us; easily,” she finishes mournfully certain.
Visibly shaken, Cawfwee’s eyes are bulging and his ears swaying.
“Is? That truth?” he stammers out questioningly.
She nods ‘yes’ but feels somewhat uncertain now. She’s been watching his ears and remembers that she feels there’s something odd about him. Her body language grows more tentative; Amelia takes a step back as Cawfwee says excitedly,
“Then we must act quickly, there is no time to lose. Will you come with me?” Cawfwee tries to look both urgent and calm and achieves antsy awkwardness as he waits for her answer.
‘This is kind of weird,’ Amelia thinks and takes another step back. She folds her arms, looks up at the camera floating off to the side, and spews out,
“Hey, I told you about me, now you; how did you grow ears and not get wet coming out of the water. . . and Cam just floats somehow, well, I mean, um, . . . just what are you?”
Hurriedly, Cawfwee reasons with her,
“I am not from here, not from your solar system, or even your galaxy. Do you want to make a difference?” he asks, “Would you like to help evolve your world? In fact, would you like to help save your world? Um, well, maybe with some luck; actually, it will take a lot of luck, but anyway,” he adds hurriedly, “your world is in danger; grave danger. Will you please come with me? It is very important.”
He gives her the most earnest look he can imagine. He wonders if humans can adapt quickly or if they’re challenged that way.
Amelia thinks, ‘An alien; wow, that’s pretty cool for sure,’ however, she steps back yet another step, folds her arms tighter, then asks,
“To where? What do you mean, ‘grave danger’?”
“Well, to my home away from home. Your world is under the scrutiny of The Universe at large. If you lock arms with me, we will be at my home in an instant, just like I grew ears. I am not of this world however my home away from home is safe,” he laughs aloud, “well, a lot safer than your world. This place is scary. I know it is a lot to take in, or even believe, but you have helped already. Can you and will you please trust me? It could mean great change for your world.”
He’s certain she wants to but Amelia hesitates, she has to be careful and he understands and respects that.
“Well, will I be safe? Can I come back when I want to? Can I really make a difference?”
“You will be safer than here, Amelia, and for sure that is the truth, I mean, just saying,” as he swings his arms out to suggest all of Earth. Cawfwee snickers and shakes his head at his truth, then, “Your word will be my command for your safe and immediate return. And, yes you can! Make a difference, that is. Your world is scheduled for termination.”
Cawfwee finishes matter-of-factly nodding affirmative and idly scanning the horizon after he says it. Then he adds,
“I strongly suggest we skedaddle so we can get a few things straightened out; please, trust me, Amelia.”
Amelia takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for a moment, and says,
“This better not be a joke. How? Why terminate us?”
Cawfwee looks first at the cow then back to Amelia and replies,
“For the lack of Humanity exercised on this planet,” and he seems embarrassed to have said it and looks downward. “Mostly because of the barbaric violence and slavery but there is also pollution and destruction of habitat, torture of animals, devotion to class structure and ownership of land. Your race is escalating your space activity and nobody wants your virus spreading out there into the greater Universe. We are scared of your kind; we thought you were Marauders, which is the worst insult in all the Universe. Still, overall, humans are barbaric and disrespectful, and these kinds of shenanigans have never worked out well on developing planets. Your race indulges in activities that are over the top disgraceful for your level of development. Humans make a mess of a good world, but at least it is a flaw in your development and it is not because you are Marauders, so there is hope.
“Essentially, we were protecting ourselves from you,” Cawfwee finally asserts, thinking he’s being quite agreeable, honest, and appropriate, “We are spooked by your behavior; humans are a bad horror movie. Now, I think there is another way and I will require your help.”
‘I’m going to have to get used to this guy’s approach,’ thinks Amelia while looking at the cow who is taking it all in. The cow appears to be conveying something with her eyes and Amelia gets a notion and says,
“OK, if I can make a difference, now’s the time to rock and roll. Let’s dance! This isn’t the time to be scared to make a change; anything worthwhile will always have risk involved. Let’s go, Cawfwee. Let’s pitch in to save the world.”
Cawfwee gives a sigh of relief then he steps up and offers his arm, which she links with her arm and they simply fade away, while the cow nods her head wisely grinning a lopsided grin. The cow offers a melodic ‘moo’ to commemorate both Amelia and Cawfwee’s alliance and departure.
‘This little bit of the Universe craftily arranging people, places and events is’, the cow muses, ‘very fortuitous indeed.’