Bunker Time (Five Years Post “The Virus”)

Bunker Time (4)

In the musty bunker that Grandpa Knowles had called home for the previous four years, two candles flickered; casting darting images upon the stone and cement walls. Minda, his eight-year-old granddaughter, who had been sitting on one of the two wicker chairs they had scrounged from a nearby dump, suddenly stood.

“Persmission to go outside?” she said to her grandpa. “I have to use the latrine.”

“Certainly,” replied her grandpa, as he looked into her bright eyes. “But be careful, and you know about what.” Minda nodded and said, “Uh, huh.” She knew it wasn’t about the virus that she needed to be careful. A couple of days ago, her grandpa had told her there were rumors of persons lurking nearby. One had to be careful.

Minda took hold of one of the candles and made her way up the damp cement stairs that led outside. At the top, she blew out the candle as her grandpa had instructed her to do. Light was a sure give away. She did her business in the nearby latrine, and then carefully made her way back into the bunker.

“Better?” asked Grandpa Knowles when she returned. He took the candle from Minda and relit it, doubling the shadowy light of the bunker

“You bet,” Minda said. She smiled, took a sip of water from her canteen, and sat back in her wicker chair. “Tell me again,” she said.

“How we got here?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Well, the events that led to this happened over many years; a long slow forgetting, I call it. That forgetting painfully revealed itself in the year 2020. It was really about ignorance, which really just means not knowing.”

“What do you mean?” said Minda.

Grandpa Knowles leaned forward, his chair creaking. “I mean a forgetting of our true nature. For simplicity, let’s say that human beings are made of two parts. The first part is what’s Real; It’s the Essence that God gave us. It can never be taken from us, ’cause it’s what we are. The second part is the personality; it’s the false part invented by the human mind. Trouble is, the majority of human beings are unaware of their Essence; they’ve totally lost recognition of it. That’s why they act the way they do–the false part has taken over, but they don’t know that. And because they believe they’re only the body and the mind, they’re really frightened of it coming to an end. As a result, personalitites do all sorts of terrible acts; either one to one, or collectively.”

“Like what?” asked Minda.

“Hmmm, not sure now is a good time to tell you. It’s almost your bedtime, young lady.”

“Please,” Minda said, “I want to know.”

“Well, because the majority of humans have forgotten that we are One in Essence, they have even gone to war against one another. If they realized that we were all One under the skin–where it counts–they would never think of harming one another.”

“What about this, though?” said Minda. “What about the story of the virus?”

“Well,” said Grandpa, “human fear is the real threat–not the virus. It would have been wise to take precautions; but if humans had realized What they truly are, the situation wouldn’t have spun so out of control. That’s the main reason why life came to this point; humans actually believe they are the body-mind.”

“That’s funny!” blurted Minda. “I know I’m wayyyy more than my body.”

A soft smile touched Grandpa Knowles’ face, hinting of nearby tears. The thought of his daughter–Minda’s mother–was caressing his mind. She’d been part of  “Resistance,” and paid the ultimate price; just for peacefully defending what she knew to be true. His hands rubbed the arms of his chair, as by their own volition.

“You okay, Grandpa?” Minda said softly.

Grandpa Knowles nodded. “Yup.” He was glad that Minda knew her true nature; his teachings–and her daily meditation–had pointed her to Truth. Now, though, it was time to tuck her in for the night. Minda realized that, too. She stepped to the cot against the end wall of the bunker and snuggled into her sleeping bag. Grandpa Knowles hugged her and then blew out the nearby candle. “Above Ground,” as it was called, giving hugs was punishable by death; in the name of protection. He was glad that he still knew the intrinsic power of Love. He would sit in relative darkness until he heard her drift off to sleep–all the while keeping one ear attuned to sounds of  any approaching persons.

With warms regards,

Art

Copyright © – 2020–R. Arthur Russell

 

 

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