Earth Sentinels: The Storm Creators

This story shows that our struggles around the world are connected and that ordinary people have the power to change the world for the better.

Excerpt:

A shadow glided over the crowd, capturing everyone’s attention. Overhead, an angel flapped his blue-tipped wings. He softly landed on the courtyard. The angel had jet-black hair and pale skin that resembled translucent marble reflecting the clouds in the sky. He was stunningly handsome with a strong jaw line and piercing ultramarine eyes. Over his tall frame, he wore a sapphire-blue robe tied with a light-blue sash.

The fallen angel announced, “I am Bechard, Master of the Elements. I invited each of you here today because all of you have been impacted by environmental disasters in some way. Some caused by greed and others because humans were playing God…using materials and processes beyond their ability to control.” He made his way to the crystal ball, waving his hand over it. The mist cleared, revealing planet earth slowly rotating. Everyone gasped.

“Is that really earth?” Chief Keme asked, spellbound by its authentic resemblance.

Bechard smiled, “Think of it as a reflection. However, look closely and you will see actual events taking place.”

Haruto stepped forward to find Japan, then her city of Fukushima. The image magnified, showing the nuclear plant and the workers who scrambled outside the facilities in their protective suits trying to control the radioactive wastewater that leaked out of control, spilling into the boiling sea. She jumped back in horror. On the beach lay dead whales, sharks and porpoises. “Oh, my God! It’s getting worse!”

Bechard responded to her concern, “Yes, it seems that mankind is constantly making blunders that are detrimental to its own health, as well as the planet.”

Billy nudged Zachary, who was still staring at Conchita, prompting him to step up to the glass globe. Together, they scanned the northeastern corner of the United States for the general vicinity of Pennsylvania.

“Should be there,” Zachary said, pointing with his finger. The region came into view, displaying his family’s farm. The panorama shifted a mile to the east where the terrain was littered with active oil wells. 

“They know it’s contaminating the water supply, yet they keep pumping!” Zachary exclaimed, visibly upset.

Billy put his hand on the young man’s shoulder to comfort him. “Let’s move out of the way,” he suggested, partly so that Mahakanta and the other spirits could have a turn, but also because the scene seemed to be more than Zachary could handle at the moment.

Mahakanta stepped up to the globe searching for his beloved India. Former sights and smells flashed through his mind. He smiled, remembering how vibrant India’s culture had been for him. His dusty farm appeared. The house sat vacant. A nearby city came into view. He saw his family begging on a street corner.

“Oh, sweet devas, not my family! They are the lowest of low!” he cried, unable to watch any longer. A few of his fellow spirits also observed the circumstances of their farms and families. Each was overcome by the indignity, suffering and loss. Most of the farmers chose not to gaze into the ball, finding it unbearable.

Zachary felt compassion for Mahakanta, putting his arm around him. The farmer dipped his head, crying. Pahtia and Conchita, who were heading to the glass ball, stopped to comfort him as well.

Mahakanta lifted his head. With tears running down his face, he asked, “Have you ever been hungry while the earth seemed plentiful? Have you ever felt alone in a place filled with millions of people? I raised my arms to the heavens crying for help, but my plea fell on deaf ears. The world went on without me. It still ignores my family. How can this be? Does no one care?”