The Groundling

My name is Terra, it means Earth. That is the stuff deep below the surface of our planet. I am a Groundling, and, I think, since Mother died…the last one. My people have always been Groundlings. I used to ask my parents why we were the only ones who did not have the ability to fly and live in the sky with all the other people, they always had the same answers. Mother would always seem to change the subject. Father was my teacher.

He would say things such as, “history says that man would do good to cherish and honor his own piece of the Earth.”

I’m not really sure what they meant by that.

He would also say, “the sky people have simply adapted to the ever-changing climate that we inflicted upon ourselves.”

All my life I’ve heard about a past Earth. A planet full of life and a place where all humans stayed on the ground. Water flowed out of the earth and covered a large portion of it. There were things called plants everywhere. Some were almost as tall as the sky people’s homes. My father told me about animals, some you could even ride on, that would kind of be like flying. I have dreams that I’m flying, but not over the garbage below. In my dreams I’m flying over ground such as my father described; ground full of beautiful rich colors, textures, and shapes. The feelings of warmth, intoxicating aromas, and textures of the plants were vivid and real.

I miss my family. I saw another human the other day. I was foraging outside. He was just hanging there in the air, floating above me as if he were standing on nothing. He saw me too.

Terra gazed upward often, trying to catch a glimpse of a sky person. The sky culture was the evolutionary result of a people who basically killed their planet, buried it, and forgot. As the planet was slowly dying, mankind was dying as well. All humans had developed the ability to fly, and had migrated to the sky. Once all plant life was dead, the air became toxic and an outer shield was created to seal-off the Earth; a sort of stain-glass bubble-wrap. The surface of the earth was sealed to prevent future growth of plants, as too much oxygen would upset the balance of conditioned air within the atmosphere. The remaining water had been collected and was being recycled. Sky-people homes and buildings were suspended just below the outer-sphere. There were no animals or insects. Since there were no plants, nourishment was created from cells they had captured before the death of Earth. The people were human, but more akin to robotic worker bees. They moved about with minimal distraction, tuned to their hive-goals, busy in their own minds. The waste they produced was mostly recycled, but inevitably much of it was simply dropped into the darkness below. No one ventured into the depths below.

From childhood Firma had been different. He possessed a zeal for adventure and a sense of curiosity not shared by his peers. His father, likewise, was also awake to the world around him. Firma’s father would tell him stories of people who lived in the vast wastelands below. He had even snuck down, once, in his youth, to see if the stories were true. His father had seen them, he told Firma; a ghostly white people, with shining blue eyes. Firma was intrigued, and he knew that he would one day look for them himself.

All his short life, Firma had experienced a recurring dream. A dream rich with a vibrancy his waking mind had never encountered, set in a land unlike any he had ever seen, but still familiar. There his senses were awakened by the warmth of the sun shining directly on his body. Sometimes the cool night air would bring a chilly refreshing breeze. Sounds of water and birdsong trickled together harmoniously. The trees were everywhere, in every manner of shape, size, and color. Flowers flowed out of the rich, dark earth. And intermittently, she would appear; a girl, with glowing blue eyes.

Except for this girl, the visions in his dreams had seemed impossible to be true. He had to find her. Travel down into the abyss was forbidden, but Firma could not resist the urge to sneak away and explore the darkness. The abyss was richer than commonly known. Firma’s adventures sometimes rewarded him with unopened food, other times, he found pictures of strangers. His greatest treasure was a key, found under a discarded gel cartridge; a tiny key that he kept on a chain around his neck. Occasionally, fleeting flickers of light would emanate from the key, though these never recurred once he would focus his gaze on it. Gradually, he thought he noticed the flashes and colors coming from the key increasing in frequency, however, the more he focused his attention on it, the more it appeared a simple creation of an unfamiliar world. Then one day, while briefly resting during a trip to the place below, he saw her: a pale beauty, with luminescent blue eyes that pierced through him. He sensed that she saw him, too.

Firma felt embarrassed at his inability to look away from her. He had never in his life seen such beauty. In her eyes he saw the world of his dreams.

“Nice day … nice day,” Firma said awkwardly. “I’m Firma, are you alone here?”

“I’m Terra, and yes,” she answered quietly.

Firma stammered, “Do you need me? I mean, do you need help?”

Uncharacteristically, he probed further, suddenly feeling a multitude of urgent questions.

He asked, suddenly feeling rushed and self-conscious: “Would you like to live in the sky? Do you fly? Do you love me? Have you always lived here?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Firma could not understand what was happening to him. He could not communicate, but had to speak.

“Why don’t you fly?” he asked.

“I can’t,” she answered.

The thought of someone who could not travel through the air was perplexing to Firma.

“Just think of flying and you will,” he suggested.

Terra squinched her eyes, concentrating. Nothing. She gave it another try and jumped into the air only to come right back down with a thud.

“Don’t worry you will fly,” Firma said softly.

Each day, after his lessons, Firma would steal away and visit the Groundling. Sometimes they spent their time running amongst the heaps of rubbish, exploring the swirling hills of cast-away detritus; other times they just sat and talked. During each visit, though, Firma insisted on at least one flying lesson. One day, they decided to fashion a rudimentary harness out of some rubbish she had packed away. Her legs stuck out, awkwardly, and she couldn’t seem to get comfortable. He hoisted her up and she scrambled to find her balance. All the while, she could only think of how close she was to him in this moment, and she hoped he couldn’t feel her heart pounding. He barely got her off of the ground, before they both came pummeling down to the ground.

“Maybe this is not the way,” Firma said, between laughs.

Terra eventually shared with Firma how her people had become Groundlings.

“Long ago, when the earth was dying, the plans for the great sealing of the planet were underway. My people discovered a vast network of caves deep within the earth. In these caves they had discovered the last collections of water. They gathered enough of these stores to sustain themselves for some time. The Groundlings made a choice to hide deep within their chambers at the risk of never being able to walk the surface of the earth again. Over time they became dim and dreamless, and free thought dried. Everything was homogenized and sterile. They survived in their cavern for many years until their supplies ran out and people started dying. Eventually they found a way to slowly peel back the layers of the seal until they finally made it out. By then there were only a few of them left. I was the last child born of the Groundlings. Now I’m the only one.”

One day Terra took Firma to a place deep underground, to the door of what was once the home of her family. A long, narrow tunnel led to a large chamber that became brightly lit by her glowing skin. Upon entering her home, he touched the hard, cold surfaces which were composed of a substance both foreign and familiar to him. The furnishings inside looked just like every other home in the sky, yet they didn’t seem to belong there.

“Today is the day. I know you will learn to fly. I have given it some thought. You simply need to empty your mind and really concentrate,” Firma said with confidence.

Terra did her best to think of nothing, jumped into the air, felt a moment of suspension, then abruptly crashed back to the ground. As Terra stood up a beautiful shiny heart-shaped pendant escaped her blouse.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“My parents gave me this heart locket when I was a child. They wore one too, only father’s also had a key,” Terra said.

“Like this one?” he yelled, and then, without being able to contain himself, quickly asked once more, “like this one?” in the calmest voice he could muster up.

Their eyes locked. Then they embraced. Without words he reached for his key. It just felt like the most natural thing to do. Never lifting his gaze, he gently reached for her pendant. Together they used his key to turn her heart. The charm opened and began to spill forth a flowing waterfall of tiny substances neither one had ever seen. The stream of matter seemed to have a life of its own as it touched down on the surface below and created a swirling mini galaxy that immediately began tearing back the ground beneath their feet. The couple could only just stare down below at the destruction unfolding before their eyes.

“Wait, you're floating!” he exclaimed.

She was, she could fly! It was amazing. Evidently, the locket was the connection between Terra and the earth. This is what had been holding her down all her life. In her excitement, she took a couple of quick trips around Firma before she looked down and remembered that the ground was alive. The vast expanse was now a moving jumble of energized matter. The seeds that were sealed in her heart locket began to immediately bring forth life, shifting the balance of air causing the outer shell to crack. The result was catastrophic. The couple knew where they had to go. The cave sheltered them and they dared not go out into the storm for some time. Then one day, they finally decided to leave the security of their home, as their food stores were running low and they needed to find a way to survive.

Everything they had both dreamt was there. The sun was shining without the hindrance of the bubble sphere. Everything they knew was gone. Everything and as far as they know everyone. The couple ventured out into their new world. It was Just like the world Firma’s father had described. There were rolling fields of soft green plants under foot. The orbs hanging from some of the larger plants seemed to call out to them to pick and enjoy the nourishment. A babbling brook sent forth water quenching their thirst. The piles of destruction had seemingly transformed themselves as living matter. Terra and Firma wondered if what they had lost was greater than what they had gained. The price was steep, but the earth below Terra and Firma’s feet was a living foundation to cherish and honor. They realized the importance of keeping their feet planted on the ground, so that they could remember their roots.