Chapter 3

A deeper look into the main character's thought process and opinion on the big questions that plague man.

3.

That night, while passing the herb pipe around, the men discussed their various tripped out thoughts, and, consequently, understood them no better than at the beginning of the session. In his many years and many times sitting in smoke circles, Worthmin learned that men do not discuss these ideas- ones of the metaphysical and abstract -in search of answers, as all know there are no answers to be found, but in the search of comfort. It is relieving to know that all men share in these intellectual struggles; the meaning, or lack of, in life; the infinite manner of the universe and our rudimentary understanding of it; or various meanings of morality. And, no matter how eloquently one expresses these thoughts, everyone is, more or less, equally demented by them. 

"When we were primates" Worthmin had said to the boys that night "we were only concerned with feeding ourselves from day to day. Now, with the development of agriculture and civilization, we have free time. And in that free time, we try to dissect the world around us, causing all to feel like we have too much work to do and too little time to do it. And in that, we get the futility of man. Human progress all leads toward the superiority of man, for him to have knowledge of all things. But one sees how this is a futile campaign, how our main purpose, biologically wired into us, is futile. So, considering this, we are left with two types of people: Great Men and Men that will be forgotten. Great men acknowledge this futility, but pursue the truth anyway, and add to the progress of man. This is what makes them great. Men destined to be forgotten, considering the futility of man, live their lives to the tune of silly rationales as "Life is meaningless, so I'll just try to be happy", thus never doing anything meaningful and left destined to be forgotten."

"We are men destined to be forgotten" Worthmin ended the thought with. 

"I think I'd rather be an ape" Steezy added "I would go back in time and stop the evolution of man. I think I'd be saving people a lot of stress." They all grinned at this idea, realizing how trivial it was to discuss, but also recognizing the truth in it. 

As for Cothe, he later admitted to being fucked up off some municipal medicine he had stolen earlier that day. Municipal medicine was, and lately more so, becoming a problem for Cothe. "I don't even do it that much" Cothe would say "only when I get my hands on it." But, as Worthmin and Steezy Boy knew, this was junkie denial that could not be trusted. "What do you mean 'get your hands on it'" Steezy shot back at him "the only time you 'get your hands on it' is when you rob a pharmacy or steal it off a truck. You make it sound as if it falls from the sky into you lap." Cothe was silenced. When a junkie is met with the truth, especially when delivered relentlessly and without remorse, he is given no wiggle room to avoid it. They will be left unable to retort and will most likely enter a state of deep introspection. This leads to two things, one more likely than the other. One being: the junkie may see his wrong doing and, if his life has not already been completely destroyed by his addiction, seek repentance. This is very unlikely. Two, and the more likely outcome, is: the junkie will want to get high. 

This exchange had surely sent Cothe into a state of deep introspection. But occurrences like this had happened before, and the outcome was always the same. Steezy Boy and Worthmin were growing more and more concerned over this. They were both aware of the limit they were nearing. The limit of how many times a junkie can take a clear look at his life before another option comes into play.

The scenario goes like this. A worthless junkie is delivered undeniable truth in an utterly remorseless manner. The junkie takes a good long look at its life and decides to face the truth. Now, this truth that is reached is the same one that causes a junkie to repent. The truth is the same, but the outcome may differ. The truth goes like this: I'm a worthless junkie and my life is pathetic. Now, a junkie may take this information as a motive to change his ways, and this would be the repenting junkie. But, and although sad to say, another reaction is more likely. A junkie will take this information at face value and choose to end its life. I'm not sure anybody can blame it.

 

Steezy Boy and Worthmin, the latter more deeply, knew this. 

The tall, dark Indian who later came to be known as Sky, didn't say much that night. He hit everything that was passed to him and advocated to keep filling the pipes, even though he brought none of his own herb. Worthmin noted his behavior, thinking it was very strange. Courtesy, especially when sharing herb, was essential to forging, and maintaining, comrades along the frontier. Later that night, after the Indian had fled for home with, hopefully, good words for the new settlers, Worthmin brought the matter up to his men. While they were laying in their bundles, he voiced his concerns. "There is something missing in that man" he said. There was no response for sometime. "He could sure hold down his smoke" Cothe spurted out. "Nobody along the Ohio River quite smokes like us, and I think most men would of passed out on their first time in this shed. I guess I give him a little respect for that." They all snickered. It was a reputation all three valued; don't smoke with Worthmin and his boys, unless you plan on spending the night. "I don't think we should have him back, though" Worthmin continued. "Actually, I think we should pay his tribe a visit, just so we can make our own impression and not have to rely on what Sky relays to them. I don't trust that Injin a damn bit."

This last cold sentence prompted the other two to revise their time with Indian more rationally. Worthmin solemnly damned people so decisively, but when he did, it was in good reason. On the Frontier, you encounter many people, all from different places and of different ethnicity. But there is a certain type of man, the empty one, who is almost identical to others like him. The lack of humanity, even in a place like the frontier which already has little, is a common characteristic. An empty one is not put off by murder, nor does he relish in it. It is simply a chore, something that has to be done and is not thought over much. Many can act as if killing does not affect them, Worthmin included, but it is never entirely convincing.

Worthmin knew an empty person when he saw one, and he had no doubt that this Indian, Sky, was hollow. Perhaps this gift comes from the emptiness in himself. As the old world saying goes: takes one to know one.

Steezy, playing off of Worthmin's damning of the Indian, busted out in rage. "You know, it pisses me the f**k off when somebody comes and smokes all our herb, saying 'pack another, pack another' but doesn't bring a gram himself. How the f**k does that guy get on being so inconsiderate."

"Yeah" Cothe began to add in "and it took him nearly two hours to give his name. His name, the first thing you tell someone when introduced."

Although this matter was concerning, Worthmin couldn't help but feel proud hearing these comments. "When I found these boys", Worthmin thought, "they were absolute crooks. Look at them now, speaking of frontier courtesy like they've known it their whole lives. If there is one thing I've done well in, something that has put positive force into this world, it has been through turning these boys away from their barbaric ways. Who is to say how many lives they would have ruined before, eventually, dying themselves?" Worthmin was no Godly man, never once prescribing to any faith, but as this good virtue washed over him, a thought occurred. 

"This is how men can donate their lives to selflessness and charity, this feeling I am overcome with, this is what drives the humble." 

"Let's get some sleep, we'll worry about it in the morning" Worthmin advocated to the other two. "After we get everything planted, we can arrange a visit at Sky's tribe."

Tomorrow would mark the 15th of May, 2033. The growing season had come. This would be Worthmin's first year tending to the soil not by himself. Although this meant more land could be worked and maintained, there would also be two inexperienced farmers trudging around in his fields. "We'll just have to expect some casualties" he thought.

Author's Note

I'd appreciate any feedback and will not be offended by any comment. I realize starting in the third chapter leaves out some context, but I feel this part of the book is not exactly plot based. This chapter is more abstract and deals with philosophical topics.