Ein Bisschen Mehr Von Unserer Geschichte

 

I had some major questions. What was the connection between our local goons, and World Com.? Why did they care what we did over here in a small American city? 

We packed up sleeping bags and locked the house as best we could.

*O*

I guessed Roop’s place must be considered headquarters then. We were sitting around with him again on his ratty assortment of old living room furniture, while he roosted in his big creaky office chair. He had the same black knee pants on and the whole same look, including beanie. But he wasn’t grinning so much. He looked large and rather imposing when not goofing around.

We all had some more of his instant coffee and some dry cookies.

“Who is World Com., really,” I asked him.

“There is a war going on in the cosmos Jen,” he began. “World Com. is the earthside representative force of the Black Ones. The Spooks are with them too. Their goal is to scour the planet. I am not sure why they desire this so badly.

“The Shorties, the ETs who do the bidding of All Being and manifest in those Lights, are in opposition to World Com. and all the works of the Black Ones, who seem to hate all life. They seem to have a violent revulsion against warm blood and sentience in the warm blooded. They hate All Being with all their might and their minds.

“You remember how all the O positive blood people died from the spray? That wasn’t an accident. They were experimenting. The Bugs were meant to cause such an uprising in the people that they begged for relief. Besides, they enjoyed watching people getting injured and killed by their Bugs.”

Doug sat up, elbows on knees and said, “I don’t understand how they even know I exist and what they think I might be able to do to them.”

“The Shorties tell me that you have a gift. The gift to persuade and lead. You don’t feel it yet, but you will. That urgency inside you is the birth of this gift. The Black Ones, who exist outside of our time, see a mark on you. They tried to kill everyone with your lineage, but they messed up. It had nothing to do with O positive blood.

“Apparently, you are descended from some prophet in the holy land, and you are enough like him, that they are worried,” said Roops. “It bred true in your case. I’m sure you must have felt some of this.”

Doug looked stunned, but also not really surprised. Elvin looked wise and kept his thoughts to himself.

“So, how does P-Sec fit into this?” I asked Roops. 

“P-Sec is nothing. They are very weak and can’t last long. They are the last manifestation of the old-world governments. It is the same all over this country, and most of the other countries have something similar. But they are dangerous to you kids. They can still imprison you if they catch you, and they can execute you also. Who would stop them?” he said.

“They must do the bidding of World Com., it’s the only way they can continue to have any power at all. World Com. has directed them to capture all four of you and put you down immediately.

“World Com. is a spooky outfit. They aim to have total control. Their rule will be spiritual, they believe. They have a vision of earth stripped of human life completely. Their story is that the earth would be better without humanity. The Black Ones hate us more than you can know. It is the fruition of their hatred of our Creator.” Then he sat quietly.

I missed Lou, all of a sudden, and what passed for our weird boring life out beyond the river. My grief over my parents threatened to emerge too. But this was no time for bitter tears.

Roops, Elvin, and I looked toward Doug. He stood up and walked the length of the room and back again. I was starting to see something new in him. He looked as though he was puzzling on something internally. He stopped and sat down again.

“Are Jen and Lou in danger too,” Doug asked. “How about your mom and Bubby? Do they know about them too?”

“In the long run yes. The girls are in this now too, but it really makes no long-term difference. Death is the desired result for all of us, mom and Bubby included.”

We took a lunch break. Canned bean soup and brown bread and butter. I thought about the things my mom used to cook. Well, those days were gone. I washed the few dishes in the little kitchen off the main room and then went back to my seat with the others.

I pondered the contrast. Washing dishes and war in the cosmos. Maybe that war had always been waged unseen by most of us. Yes, I decided, it had. Nothing else would explain the history of earth.

“What next, oh guru, wise one, saintly cosmic advisor,” said Doug. “What should I do? I don’t know how to save the world. Do you?”

He pulled out that mysterious pack of Camels and offered them around. Roops took one and they smoked for a bit without speaking.

“That isn’t your job, Doug. You can’t save the world. You are not Him. Your job is to be a contagion for life. You must stay alive, which won’t be easy, and infect the survivors with the desire to live, in spite of World Com. and all  the Black Ones and their fellow travelers. You will be speaking for All Being on earth for these days.

“You must inspire others to pick up from where the world has left us now and begin again. The Lights will guide you about where to go and who to speak with. They promised to help you. You will be the emissary of life to the scattered groups of people still living. Those you have infected will go further than you do and infect other clusters of survivors. And so on. The people are full of death, and they need to live again. Once long ago there were fewer people than live now. It can be done again.

“And you better figure on staying here tonight at least. Jen’s house is too hot for you right now.”


In the morning, we packed up our sleeping bags and headed to Mrs. Steele’s house. I wanted to check on Lou and maybe get Bubby to come along with us.

No one was home there.

link to all of it: In the tenth year of the pandemonium.docx