Issue 24 by Challenging Destiny Magazine

Author:Challenging Destiny Magazine [Magazine, Challenging Destiny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2007-08-31T22:04:04+00:00

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There can be no peace without equitable development; and there can be no development without sustainable management of the environment in a democratic and peaceful space.

—Wangari Maathai, “The Nobel Peace Lecture for 2004” in The Ploughshares Monitor (Spring 2005, Vol 26 No 1)

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Abigail & Chang by Harvey Welles & Philip Raines

March 2

The visitors came back this week. The worst outbreak for over a year.

I'm sure it started by accident. I was in the shed, cleaning oil from the generator, when I heard trampling in the tomatoes. My new Jet Stars as well—good against the new diseases going around these past few seasons, and it'd taken some sharp bargaining to get the seeds. My gun was in the kitchen, but unless you catch a visitor with their back to you and you've got a silencer—well, guns weren't going to make any difference.

The visitor looked confused, very Where the hell is this? But as soon as he spied my Chieftains, he was gone. Sure enough, twenty minutes later, he was back with the rest. First count, looked like five of them, but they move so fast and in the last couple of years, they've all started cutting their hair the same way, so no one can tell them apart. Pretty soon they were munching on the Chieftains—raw and primitive, not even brushing off the dirt. They were all youngsters so there was no point trying to reason—only the older ones remember things like privacy or manners—but I was so angry that I grabbed my rake, thinking I could chase the visitors off the property like crows. Yes, yes, should have known. There I was, with my bad hip, swinging away like a batty old maid, and they dodged without even looking, until someone thought this was a good game, and they were all around me, playing tag. Smart thinking, Abigail.

Then one of them must have looked through the back window of the kitchen, and before I knew it, pop! pop! pop! they were all inside. I rushed indoors, but they just ignored me as they scavenged the house. They pulled my science fiction novels from the shelves, looking for travel or housey or any kind of picture books, what we used to call ‘coffee table'—anything with photos. I kept those upstairs in Mark's room, so I held my breath, hoping they'd lose interest before too long—and of course, they did. They always do. But an Oriental girl stared at one of the pictures on the wall, my photo of the temple at Banteay Srey from my year of trekking before I had Mark, and called over the others.

So, six of them. They stood around the photo, memorizing the image with that disturbing concentration of theirs. Then they were gone.

Stupid. I should have taken the picture down years ago. Now they'll be back looking for more images. Moving the furniture around won't make any difference so I'll have to redecorate and that will mean a trip

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