Mother Earth

“The truth hurts, but silence kills.”- Mark Twain

Sarah stepped onto the sidewalk, steps measured and confident. It was Tuesday, and a brisk wind dashed through the pedestrians, inducing chills and minute shivers. Sarah, however, was well protected, as she had been wise enough to wear her long gray coat. It was a bit boring, but practical. 

As Sarah made her way down the sidewalk, she rummaged through her vocabulary, searching for the perfect word to describe this morning. It was normal enough; bright sunlight, chilly breeze, a modest crowd, but there was a spark in the air, a current of electricity that came alive in the drum of polished shoes on concrete, the whistle of the wind in the trees. Anticipatory, Sarah decided. That was the word for this morning, usual but a little unusual.

The shops lining the streets had just opened up, but a crowd was already trickling in. Sarah quickened her steps, the memory of the 3-block long line at Lucy’s egging her on. It was 8:39, and she needed to be at work by 9, so Lucy’s would only be a quick stop this morning-step in, smile, get the bag, hand over cash, and step out, a little poorer but buoyed by the delicious smell of coffee and warm hash browns mingling with the cold air. 

However, the Fates had not been informed of Sarah’s mundane plans and, instead, had scheduled a little encounter. It hadn’t been hard; Tiana was in the alley next to Lucy’s every morning at 8:35 sharp, which was impressive considering that she didn’t own a clock, or much possessions at all. She had only the torn clothes on her back, a woven basket dark with soot, and a cheap plastic comb, which she scraped through her matted hair in an attempt at grooming. Upon seeing her, Sarah tensed, frowning. 

“Good morning, Tiana.” she said in a polite voice, the kind you use when you thank your grandmother for gifting you underwear for Christmas. She noticed that Tiana was blocking the entry. “Can you…move?”

“Not today, Sarah.” Tiana replied, her voice husky and raw. “Today is special.”

Sarah pasted a smile on her face. “Yes, it is a nice day.” she agreed, not noticing the sudden drop in temperature or the sudden speed of the wind that whipped around her. “Now, if you’ll…”

The corners of Tiana’s mouth ticked up in a slight smile. “Not today.” she said, and the wind halted. She reached out and gripped Sarah’s wrist, the dark soot on her hands leaving smudges on her skin. “Today, I’ll tell you a story.”

Sarah’s smile dropped and was replaced by a frown. “Tiana, I need to-”, she began, but Tiana suddenly yanked her hand, cutting her off. She stumbled and Tiana pulled her down to sit beside her in the damp alley. The grip on Sarah’s wrist tightened, and Sarah sighed in resignation.

“Alright, what’s this story you have?” she asked, composing a tale in the back of her mind for the boss. Oh yes, sir, I’m late because a homeless woman, the mental kind, randomly decided she wanted to tell me a story and started rambling about a purple flower and her dead goldfish. She stifled a laugh and felt, for a moment, like she was seven, composing yet another fantastical story to be told to her dog, her parents, and anyone willing to put up with her.

But Tiana surprised her by leaning forward with a bright spark in her eyes. “This story is about a maiden.” she said. “A beautiful maiden named Ruby.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. These were the kind of stories that she’d hated as a child, the ones that clung to a universe with brave knights and cowardly princesses and nothing else, trying to come off as imaginative and creative and instead giving off the vibe of a sexist, lazy, monotonic doorknob. She had written many, many rants on the subject.

Tiana continued, oblivious to Sarah. “Ruby was an interesting woman, kind and cheerful, but also mysterious and surprisingly intelligent. Everyone loved her.”

Sarah was surprised to feel a burst of pain when Tiana said this. She wasn’t an introverted woman and she had friends, but she was busy with work and didn’t have much free time to socialize. Still, that didn’t mean she was jealous of some imaginary character.

“However, it wasn’t long before they started noticing weird things about her. She refused to give details about her past and her family, and she had an odd ability with the weather. One time, some little girls were sad because it was raining outside and they couldn’t play, and when Ruby heard about this she simply waved her hands and told them to look outside. When they did, they found that the rain had disappeared. Other incidents like this happened, and her neighbors became curious about her strange abilities. When asked, she simply winked and replied that people were a mystery, which only piqued their curiosity. And then came the storm.”

The wind picked up and the sky darkened, delivering an ominous crack that made Sarah jump. She looked up, eyes wild. The weather had been fine five minutes ago, but now it had changed, grown more restless and…angry? Sarah stifled a laugh. Ridiculous, she thought, I’m just ridiculous. Weather didn’t have emotions or anything, and she wasn’t going to read into a blustery wind like some kind of philosophical poet. She didn’t write crap like The wind howled with anger as it rushed through the trees, desperate to reach its forsaken love, as the moon smiled above. No, her writing was special. Humorous and whimsical, where her inner child could burst out of its dark corner and play in the sunshine. Sarah smiled, remembering the liberating feeling of writing down such fun stories, with sock-knitting gnomes and dancing kittens, filled with the joy and marvel that had never entered her life. It had been wonderful, until she stopped. 

Sarah was so wrapped up in her memories that Tiana had to tap her to draw her attention. “What’s wrong?” she rasped.

“Nothing.” Sarah replied. 

Tiana pulled back and studied Sarah. She looked the same; long gray coat, straight blond hair, pale skin, but there was a new sparkle in her eyes and a rosiness in her cheeks. It’s happening already, Tiana thought, surprised. 

Tiana cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she continued, “Where was i? Oh yes, the storm.”

Sarah leaned forward.

“This was no normal storm. It sent roiling waves against the shore, swooping winds against the trees, heavy rain against the boarded-up buildings, where families huddled in fear. Mother Earth and her spirits were very angry indeed.”

Sarah frowned. “Okay, but where was Ruby?”

Tiana smiled, pleased. “Ruby was preparing in her little house. She knew that she needed to stop the storm, but the spirits were very angry and her power was not as great as theirs. So she prepared some potions and offerings and went outside. The neighbors yelled for her to go back but she didn’t, walking all the way to the shore. There, surrounded by crashing waves, she offered a plant to Mother Earth and sacrificed her blood. Mother Earth, sensing the power in Ruby, came, and Ruby requested her to stop the storm. But Mother Earth refused. She was angry that humans, her children, had mistreated her for so long, and she was determined to teach them a lesson.”

A crease formed on Sarah’s forehead. “What does she mean, mistreated?” she asked.

Tiana paused and looked at Sarah, startled. “Climate change. The trees being cut down, the polluted waterways, the smoky air….Mother Earth is dying.”

Sarah scoffed, realizing what this was about. “Climate change isn’t real.” she told Tiana. “You must have heard that on the streets. It’s a hoax.”

Tiana raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well…climate change is….it’s normal. We don’t need to be panicked about it. The Earth changes all the time, and this is just another shift.”

“But the Earth is being forced now.” Tiana raised her head, eyes glittering like stars. Sarah felt a chill go down her spine.

Tiana shifted, cleared her throat, and continued the story as if nothing had happened. “Ruby begged Mother Earth, telling her that they would be better, that they would change and work with the earth. But Mother Earth had heard these promises a million times before. She wanted action. So Ruby gave it. She told Mother Earth that she would bind herself to the promise that humans would treat Earth better, and Mother Earth agreed to accept the offering. So Ruby stabbed herself, and as blood poured out of her body and seeped into the ground, Mother Earth took Ruby’s spirit underground and locked her there. She is still trapped there, waiting for the day her promise will be fulfilled.” Tiana looked up, and Sarah felt a stab of fear. 

“So, Sarah, what do you think now?” Tiana asked, voice dark and deep like the depths of the sea. “Do you still think what you did before?”

A cold wind swept through the alley, making Sarah shiver. A part of her brain dimly registered that it was 9:03. She was late. 

“I need to go to work.” she said out loud. It was what she did when she was scared or worried, it was what she’d done when her mother had torn up her pages of writing, what she’d done when her mother called her useless, what she’d done when her mother forced her to stop writing. It was ingrained in her brain. “I’m late.”

Tiana frowned, the wrinkles on her skin creasing further. “I understand that, Sarah.” she said. “But you are avoiding the question.” She leaned forward, her rotten breath making Sarah wince. “Where do you work?”

“Oil company.” Sarah said, trying to inject her usual briskness into her tone. But instead, her voice sounded weak and scared. Her stomach clenched. Get ahold of yourself, Sarah. “I’m in the marketing department.”

“Marketing…” Tiana mused. “At an oil company?”

“There’s more to the job that meets the eye.” Sarah said, finally managing to nail the tone. “And I’m late to said job.” 

“Alright.” Tiana said, unconcerned. “So that’s why you don’t believe in climate change? Because you work for an oil company?”

Sarah paused, frowning. She’d never taken climate change seriously, but it didn’t have anything to do with her job….right? “No, that’s completely unrelated.” she said. “I…I love my job. I do good things.”

Tiana bit her tongue to staunch the flow of the words that threatened to escape. What a poor soul, she thought. How sad that the world is in the hands of such ignorant people. She leaned back against the wall and let out a loud cackle, making Sarah jump. “Sarah,” Tiana said when she was done laughing. “Do you think you’re a good person?”

Sarah pursed her lips. “Yes.” she said. “Yes, I do.”

Sounds like she’s at a wedding, Tiana thought. The serious, formal, buttoned-up kind. She did not share her thoughts out loud-she’d learned long ago that no one wanted to hear what she knew-and instead asked, “So you think your job at the oil company does good things for the environment?”

Sarah hesitated, her eyes wide. “We-ell…” she said, stretching the word out like a rubber band. “It has a negative impact on the environment but we mitigate that through several efforts.” Her words were measured, chopped into perfect little syllables that were well-organized, wrapped in business jargon and academic vocabulary but not quite human. Tiana glanced at the sun. Only 9:11, she thought, And she’s already in the zone. Too bad I’ll have to shatter that. 

“What efforts?”

“Well, I don’t know but if you would like to know about it, then you can ask our public relations department.”

Tiana leaned back and scowled. She wasn’t getting anywhere, and the feral part of her, the one that lived for the joy and hardships of the streets, hated it. “So, you don’t know.” she said slowly, grasping for a foothold. 

“Yes.”

Tiana couldn’t take it any longer. “Sarah.” she barked. “You work for an oil company. Your employers pump oil out of the earth, spread smoke through the air, spread poison through the water. You just take and take from the earth, and now it has no more to give. Your company does all this, Sarah. And you-” She jabbed a dirty finger at her. “You are helping them.” Tiana’s eyes were wild with passion. “So tell me, Sarah, tell me-do you still think you are a good person?”

Sarah froze, caught by Tiana's penetrating gaze. “Well,” she stammered. “I-”

“Give me an answer!” Tiana stood up, and in that moment, Sarah saw who she was-not just a dirty homeless woman squatting in the streets, but a leader, a questioner, someone who held a mirror to the world and laughed in Death’s face. 

And who was she? Before, Sarah thought she knew. She was Sarah Thomas, of course. But beside the basic facts-she worked in marketing, she liked the color purple, she liked to read-she barely knew anything about herself. Who was she? Normally, she detested such vague, philosophical questions, but something made her pause and consider it. She was..nothing, really. She was like a pale charcoal sketch compared to Tiana, who was unique and passionate and observant and vibrant. She had a personality. Did Sarah?

Suddenly, with a flash of longing, she wished that she was seven again. No questions, no moral dilemmas, just fun and sunshine and a day of stories stretching out in front of her. Once, she was a writer, creative, bold, imaginative. It sounded stupid, thought Sarah, but she wanted to be like that again. 

“No.” she murmured quietly.

“What?” Tiana asked.

“I-Well-” Sarah stared up at Tiana, questions swirling in her eyes. She was so lost and confused that it made Tiana’s heart ache in a way it hadn’t for so long. “I think that-maybe-I can…do better.” She got up and faced Tiana, her movements determined but a little wobbly, like a baby goat walking for the first time. “Maybe…I’ll get a different job.”

Tiana peered at Sarah. She looked changed, more fresh and alive than normal. Tiana suspected that Sarah had been changed in ways both of them would never fully understand-and that was fine with Tiana. So she leaned back and nodded. Sarah nodded back, and she stepped away from Tiana. Suddenly, Tiana felt the urge to say something else. They’d been together for 30 minutes, and Tiana detested anticlimactic endings.

“Watch out.” she shouted as Sarah turned to leave. “The puddles are really slippery.”

Sarah froze and looked up. Indeed, the streets were covered in glittering raindrops, and the sky was dark and cloudy. Sarah checked her watch and stared at it. 5:45? She’d only been in the alley for 30 minutes…right? 

Suspicion wormed through her and she glanced over her shoulder, but found that the alley was empty. A shiver overtook her and she set off, running through the puddles without caring. As she took off, a laugh burst from her, echoing through the empty streets. Tiana watched her, smiling. “Good luck,” she murmured. Then she turned and stared up at the sky, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you sure do like drama, don’t you?” 

Lightning crackled, lancing across the sky and lighting up Sarah at the end of the street. And that is where we shall leave, with Sarah hopping from puddle to puddle, Tiana huddled on the street, and a watchful sky above.

Remember: Mother Earth is always watching. So look out….and you might catch a glimpse.