The Good Humans
The old car had been beat about by the world. The last sand storm had left the windshield crazed. When the sun shown through, the world looked as though it were studded with diamonds. She drowsed in the warmth of the rays and her head rest upon the cold glass at her right.
On the out skirts of town a sign welcomed visitors sweetly…Welcome to Evil, the place where Snamuh Doog cannot survive. ” Who would name a town Evil?” she mused.
“Have we been here before? I don’t remember this at all.” He had said they were going to a place she liked when they were children.
“Yes, you remember…when we were little kids. Mom brought us here to camp. We learned about how to be strong and we took our first steps here. You remember!”
“No! I have no memory of this place.” It scared her a little when this happened. Her family had not lived long and she was left with her brother to finish the job of growing old. It didn’t seem right that she would not remember a place like this.
There were only four buildings on the street. They were each marked clearly. Jail, Church, Pool Hall and School. The church gleamed in the sun but the school had no roof or door.
“Where are the rest?” she whispered as she turn toward the only one that remained. He was very old, bent, broken….he looked as though he may drop to all fours simply because of the weight that lay on his shoulders. He stood behind the lone lamp post with the church stairs at his back. The stick he had in his hand had been carved to a point and a locket hung about his neck. When his face turned she recognized it. It was not one that she knew but still she recognized the eyes and the brow. She saw that he knew how it would end. One and only one would remain…the one that judged.
Then she knew. This is what it would all come too. In the places she had been this was the one that represented all the rest. If something was not done…if someone did not give up…they would all be like this. When they had began and the first steps were taken, the mind had led them away from the herd. The first lesson they had learned was how to hurt the other, the weak and the ones that did not belong. The church of Right and Retribution had taught that Snamuh Doog should be judged weak and would be stamped out. They had learned their lessons well.
The car crept though town and the sign on the on the far edge could be seen clearly in the rear view mirror. The words in red letters rimmed with diamonds jumped from the sign. Even though the other words were backwards the two in red said simply Good Humans. A gasp passed her lips as she realized she was one of those.
She felt fear rise and the bump in the road left her feeling as if she had been shot. When she opened her eyes, her mother smiles back at her.
“I’m sorry about that honey,” she said. “I wasn’t paying attention to what was on the radio. I know it frightens you when they talk that way.” Over her shoulder she could hear her little brother snoring as he slept. When she looked out the side window, there the man was with a stick in his hand and around his neck hung a locket! The billboard advertised a church that was asking everyone to come and receive the man’s blessing.
She turned back toward her mother. She was almost afraid to ask.
“Mom, where are we going?”