Don't Label Me! (20 page)

“
So side effects?” Roger
quizzed.

Jnarn sighed, no he really hadn’t read the
document had he? “Gastrointestinal disturbance, grey hairs and
teeth with fillings falling out, that sort of thing.”

“
And the teeth that fall out?” Roger
had a few fillings.

“
They’ll grow back. You might want
some mushy food for a week or two.”

Lewis patted Roger reassuringly, glad his
own teeth were intact. “Aren’t you glad you chowed down on
breakfast this morning?”

“
Yeah, hmm!” He shrugged his shoulders
then took the offered pen and signed the form. “Okay, so
injection?”

“
No, just a puff pack. We developed
them for the babies and young children in the town but quickly
found that the rest of the townsfolk prefered the retrovirus
administered that way rather than injection.”

“
Would have been better hidden in some
jam on toast.” Lewis muttered quietly to himself.

While the guys were getting their genetic
repair Sathi decided it was a good time to formally catch up with
her guru. Hideo had pointed out the two storey colonial sandstone
house overlooking the park. House number 7, how appropriate, the
number of supreme consciousness. She knocked tentatively on the
elegantly plain wooden door that was sandwiched between two panels
of etched rose colored glass. The man that opened it wasn’t a day
older than when she’d seen him last. Except his hair had changed.
It was much, much shorter. “Guru.” She bowed slightly. “May I come
in?”

“
No bowing here Sathi, and call me
Simon. It’s what I go by these days. My mates will only give me a
severe teasing if you start referring to me by titles.” He took her
hand and grasped it affectionately. “Come!”

Sathi kept her grin to herself. There was a
time she might indeed have come just at his command. She felt a
ripple of laughter in her head but dismissed it. She followed him
to the back of the house, to a large open plan dining room and well
equipped kitchen. Walls of almost white, maybe tinged with pink,
were framed by windows and doors edged in age-honeyed timbers. The
dazzling auras of those seated at the table nearly blinded her but
it was the screams coming from some nearby building outside that
caught her her breath. “Ah, is whoever that is alright?”

Simon placed a cup of her favorite tea in
front of her, surprising her that he remembered. “The mating
rituals of the planet Delta-Epsilon. Pay it no mind. Now, Sathi,
let me introduce you. The imposing guy there with the blue-black
war braids is Commander Alexios Thex but we just call him by his
spiritual path name Thex. His second in command, Arion, also a
right hand path follower and our beloved Tyra who follows the
middle path of love and compassion.”

Tyra rose and gave her a hug. “Pleased to
meet you Sathi. Simon has shared everything about you with us so
please don’t be shy, we aren’t.”

“
Ah, so...you know about my
past?”

“
That Simon tutored you in some of the
ways of the left-hand path, in particular the ways of a sacred
prostitute. Yes we know. We certainly don’t judge Simon for his
path or his past and we have no intention of judging you either.
I’m very glad if what he taught you made your ensuing life an
easier one.”

“
It did.” Sathi breathed a sigh of
relief knowing this woman wasn’t about to judge her or worse hate
her. “I think I might have become a victim otherwise. Instead I
made the most of my fate and used it to give to others as I could.
I also kept up my hopes and studied for a future I couldn’t be sure
I’d ever have.”

“
But you did, an MBA I believe.” Thex
leaned back in his chair, assessing her.

Sathi shrugged her shoulders, dismissing its
importance. “You could say it was in the family. My father would
have been an astute businessman, rather than a mid ranking public
servant, if his family had not disowned him for marrying my
mother.”

“
Then would you also say that you
follow your heart like your father did?” Arion quizzed.

“
If you mean following my intuition,
yes I do. It hasn’t steered me wrong, only at times into things a
little unexpected, like the fate that led me to
Australia.”

“
You’ve studied economics haven’t you?
What do you think of the current system.”

“
I think it’s driven by extreme greed,
self-interest and unnecessary competition. It enslaves many into
passive, unfulfilling lives where they achieve little of their
dreams, drowning their disappointments in material possessions,
food, drugs and tv.”

Arion eyed her with curiosity. “So does that
mean you disavow those things they use to distract themselves from
the mess?”

“
No, not at all. I just think the
distractions become an end in themselves, keeping people from
reaching their full potential.”

“
Which is?” Simon asked.

How did she put this without ranting on?
“Simply to be, to be who they are. To experience all the joy and
love that...Oh, I don’t know. Just that there should be more to
life than what most people get lumped with. The wealthier chase
after status and fame. The poorer struggle to just get food and a
roof over their heads. Few ever really seem to blossom, making a
vocation out of what they enjoy. It’s such as waste don’t you
think?”

“
We do.” Tyra agreed wholeheartedly.
“That’s why I’d like you to work with us on making sure that the
people of Boswell get that chance. Who knows, it may even inspire
change elsewhere. You in?”

“
Damn, yes!”

“
Goodo! Let’s get some butcher’s paper
and start fleshing out some ideas to put to the townsfolk
tonight.

The pub was filled to capacity. Jeff and
Rachel were busy at the bar, serving an array of freshly squeezed
juices, barely alcohol beverages and herbal teas. They’d roped
Melissa in, given her past waitressing skills, and she was busy
distributing drinks and assorted bar food. Simon called the small
food morsels he and Jeff had prepared earlier tapas but then he was
a bit trendy. Nobody really cared what it was called. It just
tasted good. They were all based on Simon’s secret recipes after
all. Melissa passed a plate of dolmathes to Tyra and her mates.

Tyra bit into one. “Yum, these didn’t come
out of a can.”

Simon pursed his lips. “Of course not. The
grape leaves were freshly picked in the Barossa.”

Tyra smiled when her mind received a sudden
image of Simon non-local teleporting to South Australia that
morning. “You nicked them!”

Simon shrugged. “It was only a few leaves. I
thanked the plants for their contribution and sent them healing
energy. The whole vineyard should have a particularly good harvest
this year.” Then he paused on another thought. “ I must let John
know so he can keep an eye out for that vintage.”

Tyra chuckled. “Yeah, being a Meta being
hasn’t kept him from his wine.”

“
Alcohol can be detrimental to one’s
vibratory rate and hence your spiritual evolution but John sort of
bypassed that. He’s seen past the illusion of the universe. The
rules no longer apply to him. And anyway, a little alcohol, though
poisonous, has a ceremonial, ritual and social value which is
greater than its detriment, for some people. I’m not saying it’s
good, a poison’s a poison, but everything has to be considered on
its relative merits and context. It would be foolish to be
absolutist. Rules should guide our actions, not shackle us. The
consideration should always come down to what is of harm or benefit
to yourself or others.”

“
And what about you Simon?” She knew
he partook of all kinds of things, not just alcohol, as part of his
mind expanding rituals. She suspected he was just as enlightened as
the so call Meta beings, if not more so, if that was even possible.
“Do the rules apply to you?”

He simply shrugged his shoulders. “I follow
the left hand path Tyra. It’s my duty statement to challenge the
rules at every turn. Sort of like yeast really, without it the
whole cosmic loaf of bread would turn out flat.”

Tyra rolled her eyes. Trust Simon to come
out with a cooking analogy. “Well I don’t know about bread but I
need to get this meeting underway.”

“
How do you propose getting their
attention?”

“
I have an idea.” She passed the rest
of the dolmathes to Arion and Thex and then walked over to the bar.
“Do you mind if i sit up on top of the bar Jeff?”

Jeff made a show of looking right and left.
“Can’t see any hotel inspectors here. Go for it.”

Tyra cleared her throat. “If I could have
everyone’s attention?”

There was no change in the noise level as
everyone continued on with their chatter and eating. No one had
heard. Jeff smiled and went over to the old ship’s bell he used to
use to get people’s attention at bar closing time. He picked up his
official waddy stick, a piece of pink and mahogany sassafras
timber, hand whittled by one of his regulars one rainy afternoon.
He used it to give the bell a swift belt, its piercingly sharp peel
ringing out, suddenly grabbing absolutely everyone’s attention.

Tyra uncovered her ears and grinned. She
hadn’t expected it to be quite that loud. “Um, well, right.” She
shook herself back into some sort of focus. “Thanks for coming
everyone. I guess you all know the news by now so here’s just the
dot point summary. Since we joined the dimension of fairy the
Valeton council feels that it doesn’t need to provide us with
services any more. It certainly doesn’t consider me to reside in
the council area any more, disqualifying me from holding the
position of mayor. Fortunately Valeton will have a good replacement
in Peter, who a while back saw the error of his ways and now agrees
with us on most things we consider important. Unfortunately we have
too many enemies in the outside world and Peter would be up against
it if he tried to push for our services to be reestablished. I’m
therefore suggesting, and I underline suggest because I in no way
want to be seen as dictating to any of you, that we govern
ourselves and work out how we are going to deal with those basic
tasks like rubbish collection, road and park maintenance, education
of our kids, building and construction...all that.” She paused and
looked around the room, waiting for a response of any kind. She was
somewhat relieved but surprised when she saw her usually
behind-the-scenes mother, Annie, take to her feet.

“
It would seem to me that we are well
underway with some of that. I already project manage the building
and construction. With a bit of help I could extend that
facilitation and finance management to other essential projects.
Although I have to ask the obvious, if we can all non-local travel,
do we even need roads?”

George winced at the thought of a world
without his beloved cars but saw the sense in what Annie was
asking. Maybe there could be some compromise. “We’ll still need a
main route in and out of town for those cars that do come through.
I propose we keep the main road and a circuit through the town,
taking a route past the shop, park and pub. That would help with
rubbish collection too. The rest of the roads we could evaluate
whether we really need. We could let them grow over or put over to
common space for food production or other activities.”

Tyra quietly gave George a mental thumbs up,
she wasn’t in a hurry to give up her Bentley either. She’d only
just mastered it. She turned to the stocky work muscled girl who
was leaning against the pub’s entrance door. “Another suggestion
I’d like to put forward is that that lady at the back become our
expert on waste management and recycling. Some of you would already
have seen Ang who comes with her truck each week to do our rubbish
run. Does anyone object to Ang advising us on this key service we
need?” Shoulder shrugs and shakes of the head indicated there
wasn’t. “Great, Ang would you like to come forward and introduce
yourself?”

Ang blanched but came up to the bar and
stood near where Tyra held court. “Okay, well I’m not much one for
public speeches but here goes. I know I’m new here but I’d really
like to work with you on how best to minimise our waste, recycle
what we can and run a collection service for what we can’t.” She
looked knowingly at George, knowing he was Simon’s chauffeur and
mechanic as well as the town’s engineer. “I’d be happy to work with
you all to sort out rubbish collection points that would minimise
the number of roads we need to maintain. There’s some good waste
management examples overseas we can explore, particularly in Sweden
where they manage to recycle 99% of their rubbish.” She looked
nervously at her fingernails for a moment, steeled herself with a
deep breath and then took in the crowd again. “I’ve also been
nominated by the Delphines to be their liaison with you and fairy.
I know it was not a post I was elected to, except by the Delphines.
I hope that’s alright.” No one seemed to object. They all knew they
weren’t exactly flavor of the month with the Delphines, being ‘two
legs’ like most of the mortal humans they despised.

Tyra thanked Ang who returned to her post by
the door. “Speaking of elections and how we go about choosing the
other experts we need to run the place there are a number of
governance models we can consider.”

“
How about no governance.” A lone
voice yelled from the back.

Tyra smiled at Daniel. Until recently the
Irish-Australian’s whole world had been his truck. “Well anarchy I
suppose is one option but I for one don’t think we’re all quite
ready for that yet. Each of us is at different stages along our
path to evolving to our highest potential. Many still strongly
identify with their relative egos, even if many of us now
communicate on a common telepathic pathway. I think that until we
learn to maintain our uniqueness within the common consciousness we
are now sharing it might be more prudent to adopt a transition
model with some coordination to bring everything together.”