My voice may tremble and my hands may shake,
But I refuse to sit on those sidelines any longer.
I stand here as a representative of the army of chosen ones
Here to create change.
The enormity of what I have been called here to do is enough to swallow me whole.
And some days it does,
But not today.
I swallowed hard, choking down emotions from the power in her voice and the knowledge of what this woman would have seen in her lifetime.
“What a bunch of nonsense,” Boulder muttered beside me, but I was too much in awe of this battle cry from a time long past to answer him.
I wasn’t sure exactly when this had been recorded. Nicole’s and Hera’s clothing, the flash drive, and the surroundings indicated some time between the years 2010 and 2020.
“I have to show this to Pearl,” I said softly, my heart beating like a drum from the excitement of finding such a treasure.
“What’s so special about it?” Boulder asked. “Except that it’s painfully long and boring.”
I looked up from my position on the floor. “Did you even listen to her?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“And what did you hear?”
“A lot of fancy words.” He sighed with annoyance. “She looks like one of those hesitators.”
“Hesitators?” I drew my brows together. “What are you talking about?”
He crossed his arms. “You know, one of those people who sit and do nothing in quietness. Feeling all big and mighty because they’re sitting and hesitating. As if that’s somehow better than getting stuff done.”
I tilted my head. “Do you mean meditating?”
He shrugged. “Is that what it’s called?”
“Yes, Boulder. And meditating is not the same as hesitating.”
“Looks the same to me. They don’t do shit. Just sit there and roam around their feelings and emotions or whatever. It’s all bullshit to me.”
I got up from the floor. “Have you ever tried meditation?”
He snorted. “That’s for Momsies.”
His answer provoked me, and already fired up from Hera’s feisty poem, I faced him. “Thank you. I know you mean it as an insult, but if you’re implying that you’re incapable of mastering your mind and it takes female power to do that, then I’ll take the compliment. Although, just for the record, it’s untrue. There are plenty of deeply spiritual men who master meditation. Nmen are just not disciplined enough to stay quiet for that long.”
“We could,” he defended himself. “We just don’t want to. It’s a waste of time.”
“You know what’s a waste of time?” I said without looking at him. “Discussing this with you. You’re not evolved enough to appreciate something as fine as that poem or meditation.”
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked when I gathered up the converter and the flash drive and moved to the door.
“I’m going to see Pearl, and I suggest you give me some space.”
“Space – what’s that supposed to mean?”
