A Story of Kindness

You wonder if the Great Ones have abandoned us? If the world is meant to be devoured by the night? Or maybe you wonder if many are meant to go hungry, or to burn slowly from the invisible rays left over from the days of the Great Burning? I can say I am almost certain. Yes. Yes.

I tell you we wander through evil days, my friend. Evil, evil days. But there was a time when a ray of hope shone in the dark. Yes, there was. And I was entrusted to deliver such hope, but it was stolen from me. Stolen, I tell you! Life stolen from me and from us by beasts! Such unruly animals, and without a shred of decency in their hearts. Such monsters, I tell you, such brutal beasts the likes of which even Hell would fear. Beasts that would just as soon slit your throat in your sleep without an offer of trade, such–

Oh, but I ramble. Forgive me. So sorry. My thoughts have the tendency to possess me, spring to life. You know how it is....

(Ah-hem.)

Ah, that fire is a lovely thing, my friend. Such warmth, lovingly given, lovingly taken, and I thank you for letting me share it with you. I sense such kindness in you, my friend, as is rarely seen in this world. Yes, I do. And I am grateful, but....

Shall I show you what real kindness is? Hum? A trade. Yes? I will trade, trade with you this moral story, my story, my friend, before I continue on my way. And even an old tale can be worth something. Could I interest you in this antique, then? Would you be interested in the ramblings of an old fool? Would you like to hear it then? Yes?

Good.

I shall begin when I was younger and roamed the wilds, trading–oh, stories for food mostly, stories of glorious antiquity, when the world was young and alive, and of course some odds and ends, useful things. Let me see....I once stopped off in a little village of bone and ash. So long ago it was, what year anyone can guess, for who has taken note of such things since the Great Fire burned? Ah, these days of anguish....

But I digress.

(Ah-hem.)

Let me see. Yes, a trader I was.

No, no. A bringer of hope in the darkness....

Yes! Yes! Come forward my wayward friends, come and let me show you something the likes of which you have never seen before. Yes, don’t just stand there. Come. You give me five minutes—just five—and I’ll show you something worth having. Yes, sir, just for you. For you. And you, my darkly dressed friend. And you too, sir. Yes, yes, no need to push and shove like beasts, come now, there is plenty for everyone. Plenty. We’re civilized people here.

Good. That’s it. Oh, is that wristband gold? Good barter, good barter. You may not wish to part with it now, but just wait until you see what I have in store for you! Useful things, and stories of such adventure. No need to look elsewhere, I guarantee you!

(Ah-hem.)

Yes, I know. Not much of a place. But what is these days? Just a carriage, some wooden walls and a leaky tin roof on rubber wheels. Just big enough for me and my stock. But what a stock! And I want not. No sir. Hey! You there! Stop pushing. Let’s be civil, shall we? A little kindness, please. Good.

Now where was I? Ah, yes, who could know that down here at the end of this lonely little street, this cul-de-sac of our little world, could hold such treasure? See here, a rare find! An antique they used to say. Could I interest you in this antique? Of the finest quality, I’m sure. And it’s authentic! A canteen they used to call them. Holds a good day’s water supply. Much needed when crossing the wastes between the black cities. Yes sir, let me tell you.

And these? Yes, good protection against the radiation, they used to say. Just put them over your body. Somewhat heavy but hey, could save you from becoming a sterile wretch. Know what I mean? Of course you do. Hey? Hey? Ha, ha!

Yes, it is a dark time indeed, my friends, and more reason why you should trade for some of these items. Could mean your very survival! I have everything anyone might need here. Yes, sir. Right here. But don’t delay; I must be off for the next settlement in two sun-passings. Much joy to spread. Yes, indeed.

So what will it be, good people? But, of course, what do you have? Something for me? A little gold? Some silver, perhaps? Something useful? Remember this is an honest trade. I am doing you a great service, for you and your children.

Review the picture: Deep bronze light filters through the thick, cloudy sky where the children scavenge. Your children. In their tatterings they grip at each other, pulling at useful things found in the heaps left behind from the Days of Mania, sometimes with shouts or whines in their mouths. And you sit, perched upon a lone stone wall, a sentinel guarding the pathways, watching for the creatures once your pets, whom you devour, and who now hunt you down for eats.

And if it’s not the creatures, it’s your neighbour, stealing from your backyard and slitting your throat. Some even steal children. Can you imagine?

But let me slow down, pace myself here. I can see you’re getting tired, agitated. Why don’t I begin with a story. Yes! I shall begin with a story, a story for precious minutes of your time, time to browse through my goods. Agreed?

Well, I shall begin with a very special story, very special, the holiest of stories. You have not heard of such a tale? No?

You see, in the days before the Fire there were windows in every home. Indeed, there were great buildings of windows that reached up to the tip of the sky! But no window before or after can be compared to such a window as the Window of Plenty. Such a special window, a holy window, such light and vision....

You have not heard this one? Well, gather close, my friends.

(Ah-hem.)

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And now....

The Dark Wastes, the endless expanse beyond the black cities, holds little but death for us, as we all know. Only when a day has been very kind can one find something useful between the blasted rocks and wind-blown sands—if you are brave enough to travel the endless Dark and make it back that is!

You see, by the Mountains of Time, between the Hills of Yesterday, out on the edge of the Great Empty Lake, I had a home in a village. Not much: a woman, our boy, and a small wooden box to keep out the night. We had enough to live on; breeding cattle-dogs for meals, trading some for water and other things. All was good. We did not want as much as most.

But the virus of the Days of Mania lingers like a spectre, just out of sight....

One day a man came to us, from where none of us knew, but he had a dozen or so men with him, all armed, all angry. They shouted at us, and when they didn’t feel like shouting their metal pipes shouted for them in great bolts of lightning and with a cracking sound. The man rounded us up like cattle-dogs, made us work, built a high fence of needle-wire around the village so none could leave.

He instilled terror in our hearts by killing a few of us often. They were usually the old, who could not work, or those among us who resisted. The pipes would flash and then crack! They fell dead like flies. And when that wasn’t enough, they began taking our wives and daughters, making us watch with rage in our silent mouths....

One day, the man, who called himself “The President,” took our son as his slave boy. When he finally took my wife, I protested. When he was done with her he slit her throat and had me chained and beaten for three days every sunrise; held me in a dark shed for how long I do not know, but I’d almost forgotten the sun and his warmth.

I was broken, you see? Broken. But when I healed and was released I devised a plan and escaped in the dead of night by digging with my bowl, under the ground like a mole, under the fence. And I ran with nothing in my arms or on my back to sustain me.

I ran into the desert and they pursued me with anger in their mouths. So I went into the Dark Wastes where they dared not go, hoping the Great Ones would see me, remember me their child, and take pity.

Well, hope beyond hope; take pity they did! I wandered, perhaps for days, maybe longer, I cannot recall, as I was ill and near death from lacking. But one day there it was, shining in the forever burning sun, glistening with hope and waiting. Waiting for me.

It stood long and tall in the middle of the hot sun, among the rocks and fallen walls of a deserted and lost village, silent and majestic and holy. I touched it and it shimmered, the glass seemed to ripple in the heat. I looked through, and it showed me things, great and wonderful things beyond its ancient frame.

I saw a field of green waving in a breeze, with colours on the tips of thin stalks. And I saw many creatures the likes of which I’ve never seen before. Some even flew through the air! Can you imagine? And there were blue skies. Blue! And puffy white clouds, so nice and clean and pure.

And each time I touched the glass it shimmered again and changed pictures. I saw a great body of water that stretched to the far horizon; I saw great cities of shining metal, and people, millions upon millions of people, laughing and playing and dining on such fine meals.

And then a thing happened that I could never expect: the ground shook, the glass rippled and seemed to reach out to me, sucking at me—and I fell through! Yes, I fell through the Window and into such a place as I could never have imagined. And there were people there, holy people who took care of me as though I were one of their own, and all my needs were granted.

Oh, it was a place of great joy, great hope, where no one was in want and all was provided for. It was a place where brutality did not exist, and peace reigned in the hearts of men.

Such a place brings life back into the soul, and kindness back into the heart. And although I did not want to leave I knew I had to return, so they kissed me and cried and gave me all that I could carry in my arms and on my back. And they bade me share a little bit of that kindness back to you, my brothers and sisters.

Oh, I feel your destitution, my friends, and have sympathy. But I have come back! Come back for your benefit!

Yes, it is true! And I’ve brought back with me a story of kindness and these precious necessities, to trade and to provide hope. Hope that we may be smiled upon by the Great Ones, as I have been, and find a little bit of that kindness to spread to others that we may rebuild our broken world.

And so....What? No, I had gone back several times before, but upon arrival I found the Window gone. Gone, I say. But who knows where it may show up next? In someone’s time of need? Yes. But that one time was all that was needed to bring to you hope. Who knows, maybe you may be blessed to come upon it one day, in your own need, to fall through into paradise.

Not a bad story, hey? No, a wonderful story. So keep your eyes sharp for that glitter of glass, that sparkle of salvation, that....Why do you shake your heads at me? Why do you mumble? What are you saying there? You! What is this? Why, I do and say these things for you, and—and what do you hold in your hand?

Get back! What is this? Don’t push, there is plenty for all to trade. Wait! We must be civil! We must be like those holy people. We must—you’ll knock my carriage over! Wait I tell you! It is true. Your destitution can end, and—don’t hit me with that! You monsters, monsters all of you! Stop! Stop I tell you! Stop!

Ah-eeee!

Oh, evil days. Oh, hard pressed and broken bones. All my precious things gone. Gone! My offer of hope, shattered! Gifts of salvation, stolen!

Savages! Undeserving beasts!

Suffering. Great suffering now. Oh, I fear it. Yes. Ah, cruelty. Shall Death come now? Shall night fall hard upon me? Upon all children? Does the heart ever warm? A curse! A curse, I say. We are cursed! What to do, what to do....What are you looking at? Yes, you! You mock me? Laugh at me? You find something funny here? Be gone with you! Be off, I say, you....What?

Oh, so sorry. So sorry indeed, my friend. Yes, I remember you. Forgive me my wild mind....You have something there. What is it? Something useful, maybe? Yes? A bit of meat from that fire over there? I see you have a kind heart. A very kind heart indeed. Did I say I would show you what real kindness is? I did, yes?

Ah....Look here, then, take this piece on my belt for instance. Been around ten thousand years and a day, I was told, back before they built what were called the Eyes in the Sky, or the mechanical beasts of burden, those ancient of ancient days, glorious antiquity. And still in good condition! See the perfection of the blade?

Come closer. Come. That’s it. That’s right. See? Glistening with hope. Yes, that’s it. Hope. Long, shiny, pretty, something sharp, yes. That’s it! Something sharp and kind, so very, very kind. Come closer.

(Ah-hem.)

Here, let me interest you in an antique....