She saved the correspondence to file and speed-dialed her daughter. Sector Five was complete. Over four years’ hard work and a testament to her skill. Thanks to Old Man McGee’s signature, her promotion to Senior Vice-President was as good as done.
“Mom, I’m busy.” Why must she snap her gum like a truck-stop waitress? “Do you still want to holiday in Ibiza?” She must be rolling her eyes. “We’ll book it tonight.” Her daughter shrieked, “Omigod! Really?!” She adjusted her Bluetooth. “Start packing. Were the groceries delivered?” The doorman had signed for the hamper. “They were out of organic tomatoes so I got regular.” She’d toss them out later. “Honey, always get organic,” she reminded her daughter. “Select from whatever’s available.”
***
Sam slumped on the sidewalk. His friends dropped their protest signs and sat down with him. “Maybe it’s a mistake,” Andy broke the silence. They couldn’t believe that Old Man McGee had sold out. “There’s still the town hall meeting next week. We have over 8,000 signatures.”
What did it matter now? Nobody said it aloud. The land was gone.
***
Hank McGee surveyed the fields from his porch. Four generations farming this land. Going up against Monsanto had eventually taken over his life, and he’d continued to fight every step of the way even after his neighbors sold. It had been worth it, especially when the local college kids rallied around him.
Then one day he saw it: Monsanto seeds had migrated to his crops. It was inevitable, of course. He could win every battle but he knew the war, for him, was lost. He could accept theoretical defeat to drought and locusts. But, corporate attempts to control nature? Ridiculous.
Sadness had crept into his face as he mourned the future; the outcomes of genetically engineering seeds and mass monocropping. Now, his eyes reflected a new serenity: Nature would win the bigger war. It might take a while. Maybe a few generations, he reflected. He absentmindedly answered the phone.
***
“Mr. McGee, it isn’t true!” Sam was dumbfounded.
“Try to understand, son,” Hank beseeched. “There was nothing more to be done. The fields were lost to genetic engineering.”
“What’s going to happen now?” Sam implored. “To the country? The world?”
“Nature will win it all back, Sam.” Hank reassured him. “In the end, Nature always wins….” His voice trailed off as he gazed out over the horizon.
This is such a good subject.
I get really ate up about this (no pun intended) because the food’s corrupted, everyone’s allergic to everything, the bees are dying, the farmers are hurting, people are prevented from collecting rainwater, corporations want to own the water, and I keep sitting here like, “You can’t own the world!” But they do, don’t they? And then when we have some terrible blight, we will forever forget what the sweet corn used to taste like, and our children will speak of it with nostalgia.
And I question why we own land — that’s where it began. Owning land and owning resources.
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Yes, it can be approached from so many perspectives: science; ethics; philosophy; private property; health; politics…. You raise so many thought-provoking points. Who would have predicted that water would be privately owned and sold for profit? Your comments made me think of the difference in taste between corn from small farmers’ markets and that found in large grocery store chains.
This also reminded me of a man I saw at a grocery store…he was reading package labels and checking the origins of the fresh produce. He started talking to himself — GMOs, GE, MSG, preservatives, pesticides — his shopping basket was empty except for some organic bananas. His frustration and volume escalated until he was openly ranting. He eventually left, waving his hands in the air. Nobody seemed to disagree with him and I thought he’d make a good college instructor :).
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The tone is bittersweet and resigned. Yes, nature will win the war, and to end it, it may have to take our species out. I often feel as if the human race is an obnoxious gifted child that may die before her promise is fulfilled. We can send an machine billions of miles across space to see a planet that is nearly invisible to us on Earth, but we can’t use reason to manage our instincts.
It will be so sad if we have to die so the Earth and the other life forms that she nurtures can live.
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You’re right, Rob, and very insightful. This wasn’t the ending I’d envisioned for the story but it’s the one that wanted to be written. (I still don’t know how that happens!)
Amid the destruction, we steadfastly hold hope and continue to combat the damage. I still believe that we can recover enough of our resources in time to flourish. Farmer Hank McGee may disagree though.
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It is interesting how characters and story lines take on a life of their own…
I hope, I hope, I hope….it would be such a waste for humanity to die because we decided not to use the evolutionary advantage endowed to us by our cerebral cortex.
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Absolutely! I didn’t know that happened until I started writing myself.
Rob, that’s an excellent quote! You called to mind Pablo Neruda: “You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming”.
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Right…I find what we are discovering in our solar system humbling, The universe is eternal, meaning that even when this one ends there is another, and another.
We can only destroy ourselves —
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That’s true too. Even complete disaster here is only a temporary blip in the context of the universe, or even our own solar system.
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To be mortal, yet eternal…it’s a gorgeous paradox.
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Beautifully said, Rob.
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I like that the local college kids rallied with the farmer. This helped to create intergenerational ties and created a unique feature. I have hope for nature over a company seed mix 🙂
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Thank you for your valuable feedback, Robin! I really appreciate it. I’m also glad that you have hope for nature :).
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