The grime from the streets on my bare feet, dirt, oil, and a yellow-green sticky smear, pacing waiting in the hint of cranberry and urine atmosphere, the warehouse is empty of human life except for a few scuffles around the corner a sliding box, now a sliding metal drum.
Zoe rushes in “Is it true, no way, who will take your place?”
“Yes it's true, I'm waiting for you-know-who to help me tell the difference between my ass and my elbow, it's just overwhelming.”
“Io?!”
“Yes”
The soft sound like singing is in the distance, I can't make out any words, it's not a traditional hymn, it is Spirit I think. Zoe kisses me wet, with a lot of tongue, and puts a hand on my thigh, “Namaste.” Clothes fly off and while we were in the middle of things Io walks in, lights incense and sings a sacred song as we finish up.
Then Io kisses us both, sacredly. “We can find another.”
Both Zoe and I are silent. Zoe spoke up, “But...”
“It is your choice” Io said to me.
I was uncomfortable about the whole mess. “I don't want to die on the battlefield, tossed aside like a used condom, trounced on by the boots of soldiers in mud and blood of this inhumane, unnatural, sick game!”
“You don't have to” said Io.
“But we would be defying th— ”
“WE don't have to” said Io.
Io always said there is a time for defiance, a time for compromise.
“They don't like it when our religion interferes with government decisions.”
“It is your choice”
“But I don't want to do it just out of pride.”
“Then don't.”
“I don't know that I can honestly say it isn't my pride, my stubbornness, my whim.”
“You will die either way, which way is best?”
“We do need to defend ourselves, that is honorable, and yet there is little honor in the way I would die for them, and you need me.”
“Another could take your place.”
“And yet another can take my place in battle.”
“This is true. There is honor in either path, if you bring honor to it. If you fight, then kill without despising the ones you kill, do not imitate the ignorance of the others and do not be cruel. You will have helped restrain great cruelty of the others, on either side, and maybe your spirit will help reduce the ignorance. Our side is too proud, too bloodthirsty, too cruel, you can allay that by being there, or we can allay it in our own capacity, here. The other side is even more ignorant, as if it were possible. You are the one chosen, you are the one called, we respect your path.”
“I believe my path is to die here.”
“Then is that your choice.”
“Yes, I've fasted half the moon, I've walked the city for insight, in preparation, and I've enjoyed the feasts and the love — “ I had to stop for a moment — Zoe's smile was so sweet.
“ — for the last two weeks. I know you respect life, respect death. THEY kill without human connection, disrespect the opponent, and leave the body to decay in filth. YOU will care for me, stroke my body with gentle caresses, give me the sacred pain killer, and dine on me as a lover with thanks at my sacrifice. How could I betray my values, the values that took humanity up out of the void and chaos of unconsciousness, for this war?”
“And so in thanksgiving we will honor you.”
I hugged and kissed Io, and Zoe. Tonight instead of donning combat boots and meeting a government official to take me off to war, I would become part of a sacred celebration. Instead of those grey-green wafers that just gave us enough tasteless nutrition to get by, smeared on the bread-ration, and the other food we could afford, our community would feast, and have the sacred blessing of taking in my devotion, my love, and any wisdom and skill I possess. I do not want to waste that on my country.
Those soldiers don't even know how to eat a wafer-ration with honor and sensitivity, and yet they would let my blood run charging with filthy slurs against the enemy, their bigotry, rage, and bitterness tainting my death. They barely tolerate the cannibalism, and they may give my community trouble for my decision ... but Io and Zoe will claim ignorance that I was drafted, and we will have a great Thanksgiving feast, the way it should be.
