Watching the City from the Stream

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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