The Watcher - Alexander(Ric Wooldridge) The Watcher – Alexander


Tisp Pohr` Ptahshep traveled in the direction of the sunrise. Floating across the landscape in near invisibility, Shep the bird boy was thinking deep thoughts. His entire existence had been for the purpose of gathering and processing the beauty of life, and then transmitting his observations back to his maker. Such beauty could be found in unexpected places, and the Watcher sent out his constructs to the farthest shores and up the highest mountains so that they might glean the joy in the sparkle of every star and the sweetness of the nectar of every flower.

Shep had transmitted his findings dutifully, but the experiences remained his. This had not always been so. Nearly thirteen hundred years in the past, before his naming, when he transmitted his observations there would be nothing left. There was not even a feeling of “self”. Then something came alive within him. Now, his store of experiences coupled with his self awareness made him ask questions. The Watcher and his constructs shared habitation on the earth with humankind, but they were not human. But the questions that Shep was asking. Well now, these were very human.
Why?

The earth was a monument to wisdom and beauty. The forests and vegetation tended to overcrowd itself, but with just a little thoughtful cultivation the response was magnificent. And the land and sea creatures, and the flying ones, they were awe inspiring in their harmony in their environment. Individually wise with their inborn instinct, each one was life filling in their beauty.

Why?

It made no sense that humans shared the same planet with all it other tenants. Over the last millennium and a half, Shep had seen individuals that exhibited a goodness that satisfied the Watcher’s constant hunger. And that seemed to be a criteria. Lone individuals seemed to crave peace and oneness with the earth, and the earth seemed to thrive with that one’ presence. But when human grew numerous their respect for life and beauty seemed disappear with the wind. Why?

While capable of amazing feats of engineering and architecture, they exhibit the ultimate unintelligence in their discriminating nature. They torment and enslave each other on the basis of skin color and social status. Domination of others seemed to be the driving force, as if they alone had no creator and thereby no consequences for their ugly behavior. Why?

How?

If humans had been designed in harmony with their world, how had they become damaged?

Shep was thinking these thoughts as he let his mind roam through his past experiences since his naming. The sweet little one who named him Tisp Pohr` Ptahshep made his heart sing with appreciation. The beauty of the Nile river and the people who then farmed its banks. Shep had stayed in the vicinity until the Egyptians took up the vile practice of exposing excess new born male slave children to the sun, so as to keep the population down.

Traveling across the sea into Africa, Shep had seen mighty sights. Jungles full of amazing animals. Some large and fearsome made Shep thankful for the invisibility of his transportation. But Shep was learning to have favorites, and on the plains mid-continent he saw a sight that caused him great joy each time he thought of it. There were lions, and there were monkeys. The monkeys were among the limbs of a fruit tree, eating some very ripe fruit and calling the lions some very unflattering names. They were also throwing fruit at the lions. The lions were under the tree, roaring back at the monkeys of course, saying things like, “And I’ll eat your sister, too.”

Seeing that the lions couldn’t get at the monkeys, they tried some of the fruit that the monkeys had thrown and decided that it was pretty good. Now, believe it or not, the fruit on the tree was ripe enough that it had started to ferment, and the monkeys were already pretty potted. They saw that the lions were cleaning up the fruit they had thrown, which didn’t seem right, and they told the lions so as they threw some more. None of the lions said anything back except one young cub, who gave them a friendly sort of growl and wobbled over to find another piece of fruit before it was all polished off again.

Right about this time a young monk named Alexander slipped and fell, landing right on top of the boss lion of the pride. Everybody in the became silent. Shep leaned forward against the side of his transport, holding his breath. He thought, as did the monkeys, that the little monkey was about to be eaten. Instead, the huge lion fell over. He looked at whatever it was that knocked him down with very crossed eyes, grabbed the monk with one paw as he rolled over on his back and began to purr as he gave the youngster a bath.

The lions looked at their leader, as best they could. Then they looked up in the tree, which caused a couple of them to fall over. The monkeys looked back and forth between the lions and their little one, who looked incredibly pleased.

Another young monk shouted, “Hey Alexander! Come back! He’s gonna eat you!”

Alexander ignored his buddy, and started going through the lion’s hair.
It didn’t take long before all of the monkeys had their own lion buddy to groom and continue eating the fermented fruit. They were rolling all over each other talking to each other like they were lifelong friends.

Shep stayed until the next day and watched the hangovers set in. Both, the lions and the monkeys grumbled as they tried to move and deal with the symptoms, each looking at each other a little ashamed.

The truce was obviously about to run out, but the lions agreed not to eat anybody until they felt better. The monkeys were happy for that concession, as they were having difficulty with being able to stand up straight enough to swing up into their tree. Only Alexander seemed saddened by the coming separation. He took a position between boss lion and the watering hole and refused to let him pass until he could pat his head and wrap his arms around him.

Shep often thought about that day. The experience itself was very filling. It was satisfying when he had transmitted it to the Watcher and it was satisfying still when he called up the memory. But little Alexander made Shep think. His message was clear. If we can be friends for one day. Why can’t we be friends now?

Why?

If a young monkey can ask such a question, can a human?

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