Page 91 of The Pacifist
People like Mila were as rare as pearls in the ocean. I’d known that from the first time I met her. How had I let a jewel like her slip through my fingers when I should have grabbed on with both hands?
I’m the biggest fool in the world.
I wanted to call her and beg her to forgive my stupidity and pride, but some things were better said face to face.
Leaning my neck back again, I swallowed hard, and asked a last favor from the stars.
“If you can’t grant me my first wish, will you at least make sure that she marries someone kind and worthy of her?”
There was no answer from above.
Only the sound of my quiet sniffling broke the night air as I texted a few words to Mila. “Good night, my North Star, I love you.”
It was a text I’d sent so many nights, but never had I understood the significance of the level of love I truly felt for her. Would she sense it this time?
Her answer came fast. “Good night, wise one, and good luck tomorrow.”
Staring at Mila’s text, all I could see were the three missing words.
She doesn’t love me anymore
CHAPTER 19
The Vote
Jonah
All day, I’d walked around in a daze feeling strangely detached from the result of tonight’s vote.
In the scheme of things, my role was minimal and insignificant. We humans liked to believe we were on top of the world, but the Toxic War had showed us we were as vulnerable as any other species on the planet.
How strange that we spent so much time discussing what rules to live by and held such strong opinions about how others ought to live their lives.
I doubted any other species on this planet wasted as much time worrying and arguing about such senseless things.
This time, I wasn’t required to give a speech in the Council but merely answer any follow-up questions that might be lingering from Wednesday’s hearing.
As I heard them make arguments about my unworthiness on the Council, my mind wandered back to the time I was eleven and my granddad was diagnosed and told he had only weeks left to live. I had grieved his passing while he was still alive, just waiting for the inevitable to happen.
That’s how this felt. Like a slow but steady road to the end.
“Jonah, you may answer the question.”
The mention of my name made me come back to the present and stand up. “May I have the question repeated, please.”
A Council member as young and new as me cleared her throat. “In regards to your suggestion to modify censorship on entertainment, can you clarify where you wish to draw the line? If we allow free speech in books and movies, then what about in real life? How will it affect our laws on proper communication?”
I didn’t speak with the same enraptured energy that I’d presented my speech with on Wednesday night. In the acceptance of the inevitable, there was a quiet freedom. I no longer longed for the approval they would never give me.
“I believe language holds a significant power in our lives. A power that can be used for good and bad. In the olden days they had a word that described the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions through language. The word was catharsis. The limitations we’ve put on our people by denying them the use of certain words have consequences that I don’t agree with. We are easily offended and sensitive. No one dares speak their mind freely for fear of being reported for improper communication.
“I’m not in favor of hateful words, but there has to be a balance where we can show a higher level of tolerance for people who wish to express themselves with a more colorful style of communication.
“To answer your question, I would like to see a higher level of freedom in both entertainment and real life.”
“Does that include profanity?” the same young Council member asked me.
I shrugged. “In my opinion, yes. Whether you want to use it is up to you, but I can tell you from experience that when you bump a toe it feels good to use the worst words you know.”
