He watched her grow from among the
bushes. The flowers bloomed by the riverside, as the sky changed
from silver to bright blue, later fading to a dull, tired gray,
repeating day after day. She was beautiful in her own simple way, at
first. She lived deep within the woods, among the plants and
animals. She came to him often, but he hid in the water, uncertain
how to approach her, yet. Over time she changed. She cleared the
surrounding foliage, though she allowed some greenery to remain
undisturbed by the riverbank. He loved the trees and shrubs, viewing
them as part of his kingdom. The causal desecration of her action
required retaliation. A flood from the river swamped her crops. She
built a wall with stones to constrain the river's flow, but he
overwhelmed the feeble structure with larger waves, scattering the
stones. In his eagerness, the current caught a person, dragging them
down to drown in the depths. She reinforced the structure with cut
rocks and mortar, and feeling a hint of remorse he relented, for
awhile.
After his unintentional murder he
allowed her to restrain him, reverting to a passive watchfulness. He
swam day after day in the stream, and rested in the shade of the
remaining trees. When she had cleared the river, he had insisted on
these, refused to allow her to uproot them. Now he lay beneath them
and watched her. She came nearer to the bank than she ever had
before, and she stayed. She had grown and he wasn't quite sure what
to maker of her anymore. He didn't fear her, but dreaded what she
might become. He longed for a symbiosis, a joining of their
civilizations, but suspected they weren't compatible. He
contemplated his options; overwhelming her, acceding to all her
demands, or searching for some middle ground. He would not dare
allow her to contaminate his water.
He waited hopefully, but the problem
metastasized. She grew larger still, and spilled pollution by the
gallon into his home. Enraged, he sought revenge, but no matter how
he thrashed and splashed, no matter how many walls he tore down, or
people he dragged under, they returned relentlessly in greater
number. She threw gold chains into his waters to demonstrate the
futility of his resistance, but it inflamed him all the more.
She had seen him too since the
beginning, and appreciated him. She had bathed in his waters, and
swam from shore to shore. She needed him and she used him. It
wasn't careless, and it wasn't cruel, but she couldn't refuse the
temptation of clean water flowing at her doorstep. She couldn't
reject the invitation to grow. So though she started smaller than
he, she used his life for herself. She ate from the trees that grew
along his banks, until she learned to irrigate her crops with his
blood. She fed her livestock on the fruits of her labor, and with
the expanding food source she raised more and more families. Her
prosperity overflowed, crossing and encircling him. Later, within
her walls, she paid him less heed, viewing him as an integrated part
of herself.
Then he suffered the final indignity.
He had tolerated the deflowering of his banks, the displacement of
his favorite plants and animals for their cultivated
ecosystem. He had submitted to the draining of his life into the
myriad lives of lesser beings, the washing of their food stock,
dirtying his cleanliness. She deposited her trash as well, but one
day he saw her depositing refuse, the worst shame of all. She had
grown too large, and her walls no longer enclosed slums which
sprawled to the edge of his home. That day he rose from the water
and wrestled her into the depths where she couldn't resist.
“Who are you?” she yelled at him as
he rose from the water. He approached rapidly, moving through the
water like a bird through the air. It swirled out of his way, and
propelled him forward simultaneously. While she hesitated, he was
reached her, scattering her cattle. They fought then in the
shallows. One of her hands clasped in his, and the other beating
against his bare chest. She slipped on the wet stones beneath her
feet, swaying back and forth as the current buffeted their knees. He
seemed unaffected, sure footed feet firmly planted like rocks.
Losing the battle she sputtered, “Why?”
but he ignored the question. With a final wrench he dragged her from
the shore, her pleas unheeded. He drew her down into his home
beneath the waves, and she collapsed upon a chair.
He sat across from her revealing in his
power, but astonished for she stared back at him stern, and
steadfast.
“Now you will answer my questions,”
she said before he could begin.
“I rule here,” he replied, his eyes
roaming the familiar surrounding of his underwater chamber.
“Who do you rule? I see no
subjects,” she asked.
“My dominion is the water which flows
from the spring, the snowmelt of the mountains, and the rain which
runs in the watershed. My dependents are the fish who prefer the
river to the estuary, the insects which lay their eggs in its eddies,
the translucent tadpole, the house transporting turtle, and the
furred animals that frolic in the shallows. I have no concern for
the people who would drink up my realm, reserving it for their kind
and their cattle alone. Nor do those who pollute the purity of the
source of life with filth deserve respect or protection. I have
finally acted to preserve the water for its purpose.”
She looked at him, “And who am I,
that you've dragged me down to a watery doom? What do you hope to
enact by my death!”
“Aren't you,” he said, feeling
unsure of himself now, “A ruler in your realm?”
“No more than the fish of the river
bottom. No more than the ducks which float on the surface of the
sea. I am only me.”
He stood up, pacing uncomfortably.
“You're still responsible. You've tossed your refuse carelessly
away without a second thought for who or what it poisons.”
“Even if I stop, nothing will change.
Thousands of people do as I do, selfishly exploiting our
environment, because it doesn't cost the individual.”
“You have to make it pay. You can
wheedle away your responsibility, blaming others, but that does not
alter the inevitable outcome. Find your voice, speak for that which
can not speak for itself. Fight for right. Demand a better future
from the powerful. If you can't, speak to those who speak to those
who speak to those who do.”
“And if I don't? If that's too much
work, I can't be bothered?”
He laughed grimly, “If you don't I
will have my revenge.”
She stood, realizing he intended no
harm, that he planned to release her, in spite of his threat. “How?”
He sat back down, holding his head in
his hands as he proclaimed, “I will withdraw my waters from your
reach. I will cease to clean your waste from the fountain of life.
If you don't reconsider the toll you've exerted on the community of
creation, your life will become one of want and suffering. Though
humanity will survive, your cities, your civilization will contract,
will diminish under a scarcity of resources.”
He gently took her wrist and they
passed through the river water above and stood standing on the bank.
He released her hand.
“Why me?” she asked as he prepared
to sink back into the stream.
“Because you are here. Because you
are asking the question. The problem is, why aren't more of your
kind?”
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