by David Smith
~ ~ ~
TIME, if it exists at all in this place, passes much more slowly than it does in your world. But if it were accounted for after of the manner of the reckoning of your world, a great deal of time did pass in this place, after the great events that would forever after be called, “The Great Battle,” and more reverently, “The End of the Cherubs.”
Indeed it was centuries later, after the manner of your reckoning of time, that Sally and Diane were lying on one of the porches of one of the many spacious, beautiful homes – palaces really – that they and the animals had built since The Great Battle. This particular palace lay at the edge of a peaceful lake that stretched into the distant valley beyond. Huge trees framed the porch.
Except for a few very minor and really rather endearing squabbles that had happened between a few animals, the time had passed peacefully, idyllically, and happily. In fact, once the Evil had been destroyed, few spoke of it, and in time, fewer and fewer even remembered.
Diane, for her part, was wearing a tunic that she had been wearing for a very long time. Without day and night nor seasons to measure the time, it passed unnoticed. And because this world is so clean, everything tended to be clean. Even clothes that were worn for a very long time stayed relatively fresh. Her tunic had the appearance of a well-worn garment. Sally, for her part, had dispensed with wearing clothes altogether, centuries ago. And although she went around with nothing on, it really didn’t matter. After all, they were still just two girls, and the animals took no notice of whether they wore clothes or not.
As Diane lay on the porch and smelled the sweet air, Sally leaned over her for a moment, then walked to the side and sat down, looking across the lake. It was quiet for awhile.
“So many things,” Sally said, with a distant, sorrowful sound in her voice.
“What?” Diane asked, raising up on one arm.
Sally paused for a long time. In this place, one didn’t take notice of long pauses the way they do in your reality.
“So many times,” Sally continued, “I think that I can remember things. I think I can remember a time when things were not like this – a time when there was – when there was badness in the world. I can even remember a time when I had a mother and father, and there were other people like us.”
Two communication beetles flew up and began to flash green.
Diane spoke. “It looks like some of them are having some games at the main castle. Should I send for some transport so we can go? Do you want to go?”
Sally looked over the lake, and there was a long pause again. “No,” she said.
And one of the communication beetles flew away. But the other stayed, hovering.
Sally looked at it, and then unexpectedly, tears welled in her eyes.
“Blue,” she said. “Flash blue.”
But the beetle just hovered. Diane and Sally would never see the beetles flash blue again.
“I’d give anything to see one of them flash blue again . . .” Sally said, and her brow furrowed.
But Diane interrupted her. “Don’t . . .” she said to Sally.
Tears appeared in Sally’s eyes. “I’d give . . .”
And then after another long pause, the communication beetle flashed yellow. This time, the beetle was speaking for itself.
“Do not cry for what you have done, Sally. For it is true; I will never flash blue again. But although you caused the end of the cherubs, we gained something in return. We destroyed all the Evil forever. And more than this, we learned what Evil is. We learned to defeat it, to remove ourselves from it. This is a valuable thing to know. For to truly know the good, we must first meet the Evil. To know the sweet, we must know the bitter. And to know true happiness, we must first experience true sorrow.” And the beetle flew away.
Sally cried for a little while, as Diane touched her gently on the shoulder.
Sally shook her head. “It isn’t true,” she said. “It was happy here before. I didn’t give this world anything.”
And then, after a long pause, she said, “I’d give anything just to see one of them flash blue – just blue, just once again. I’d give . . .”
And her voice trailed off.