THE

MINORITY

I looked up upon the high cliffs which towered above all our heads. Atop of them stood human guards; standing in their fancy armor, the steel glistening. They scoured down upon us, they, the conquerors of the known world. At least they thought they were. We on the other hand knew them as the tyrants of the known world, murderers of life. We were the Lobsters of the land called Splinter, a small part of the shared lands. When the wars broke out, most everybody in the land had been human, and we were soon captured by them, and many of us were now gone forever. We had lived in peace before the war, but soon the evil in the humans came out, they were beasts, they possessed an evil only a human could possess. A least that’s what the leaders still among us claimed to be true. Those of us still alive lived in prison camps such as this one, with the tyrannical humans, with no desire to keep us alive, keeping us working until our job was done. We were slave- building a new human tower, an incredibly large one, to commemorate what a human could accomplish and build. Odd how we were the ones building it.

"Get back to work # 203!" a human yelled, running over and knocking me down. He was a small chunky human, the demon obvious in his eyes, and at the moment, seemed rather angry. He was not armored, however. I got up, turned as if to go back to the work-line, and spun around and punched the human in the stomach.

The next thing I remember I was lying on the ground, my claws tied, a fully armored human holding the end of the rope. And I wasn’t the only one. Around me many other of us were in a similar situation, each one with a fully clad human guard. Many of my kind were giving me rather critical stares. I felt a tug on the rope. The human was looking down upon me, and simply gave a few more tugs of the rope. I figured out his intent easily enough, and I walked along behind him. We walked toward the cells, standing everywhere. It was a long walk to my particular cell, and the human, apparently not familiar or smart enough to figure out the way, got lost. Eventually he stopped. Slowly, he turned his head toward me, and after giving a look of disgust asked, "Where is your cell?" I was not about to just tell this to the human, he was a beast, and did not really deserve to know. "Why don’t you just follow our ways?" he asked after awhile. "I like ours," I responded. The fact that I actually responded seemed to startle him, as if he was stunned that I could speak. "Why are you doing this to us?" I continued. I already knew the answer, the humans were demons, who had been hiding themselves for centuries. The wise lobsters had told that to us soon after the wars broke out. The guard didn’t seem to like the question, and simply tugged at my rope again. We continued on. After a long walk he finally found my cell, #203. He shut the door and I asked my question one last time. After a long glare he finally responded. "The world, it is better without Lobster ways, without the fool ways. This war is to perfect the world." "No," I said, "This war is to kill it."

I woke in the morning and found the same human back at my cell. He said nothing, just opened the cell. "Why are you doing this to us?" I asked. He looked rather dismayed at hearing the question again. "Because you are idiots," he said bluntly. "How do you know that?" I continued. "It is common sense." "How do you know it is common sense?" I returned. He was beginning to redden. "Because the King, the generals, the great men, they all say so." I was not finished. "You cannot decide for yourself if we are idiots?" I asked. He did not say anything more, his face red, and he just tugged my rope harder. I could not resist... "You look like a lobster."

As we approached the work-site, the human tower looming down upon us, the cliffs encroaching upon what was left of our lives; the human walked us over to a notice posted up on one of the temporary support beams. After reading it for a second he said to me, "My friend, you may want to read this." Obviously he wasn’t my friend, but I looked at the notice. "I can’t read Human very well," I told him. "Can’t read human?" he asked. "Can you read Lobster at all?" I asked back. He changed the topic. "Well my friend, it looks like you are to be executed, Friday."

I asked no more questions on the way back to the cell, which again the human had trouble finding. Truly a beast-demon I thought. A stupid one, too. I did, however, have the "pleasure" of walking back this time with my arms untied. The site, however, was a horrible place for lobster labor. Water was scarce, even by human standards, making us weak and slow. This combined with the fact that I was apparently going to die on Friday took away the pleasure of having free claws. I sat alone in the dark night of the cell, thinking about the evil of the demon humans.

Sunrise came, and our scarce rations were handed to us from the human demons. The human guards came and one by one my fellow lobsters were let out to do their day’s labor. My guard, however, did not show up as usual. It was several hours later before he came in. He approached my cage as if he was afraid, glancing to his left and right. When he came upon my cell he said nothing. He merely looked at me, thoughtfully. "What do you want?" I finally asked, his demonic game getting on my nerves. "I’m going to help you," he said, while nervously glancing around. I was not one to so easily fall into a human trap as this; obviously he did not want to help me. "A human would not help me, all humans are demons." I replied. "Demons?" he was a bit confused. "How do you know we are all demons?" The answer was simple. "Because the wise lobster, our great lobster, they all sa.." I froze stiff. I looked up at the human, but obviously disgusted, he left. I called out "human!" but he did not return.

Terror was in me, as I realized that I had had that exact conversation the previous day, except with our roles switched. How could it have been? In all that I hated of the humans, of all the hypocrisy that I saw in them, I had failed to see it in myself. I was no better than that man, the one who stood for all that I hated. If we were the oppressor and the humans the oppressed, would we act no differently? If the tables were turned would we be as cruel? I had failed to follow my own words, to think for myself. The world was suddenly not as black and white as it had seemed. The humans were not all bad, and we were not all good. The known world was suddenly a very different place.

I had plenty of time to think in the cell that day. The human had offered me help, and I had rejected it. I wondered what he thought of me. If we had been the oppressors would I have given him so kind an offer, risking myself to do so? I had forgotten that being the oppressed did not necessarily make one right. I thought of all those, like myself, and like that man; who lived in their own ways so much they failed to see, to accept, the ways of others. How much of the world lived like this? We, my kind, were apparently not immune to it. That human, that man, was a lot like me, I realized. In a different time and place we could have been friends, but as it is, we are trying to kill one another. It was a pity that we could all be so blind.

When the guards returned, bringing my friends with them, I watched for the human who was in charge of watching me. I had trouble telling most humans apart, especially in their artificial armor; and with the darkness coming on, only the torches some of them carried hinted at their facial features. It had been a rough day I could tell. The humans were grumbling, we were grumbling, it and everyone was dirty. I continued watching for my human for some time, but he never came. As I rested in my cell, I looked up to the moon directly overhead. It was a half moon, one side beaming forth, the other side shrouded in darkness.

"Wake up #203!" I woke suddenly. There was the human. "Get up!" he shouted again. He was apparently not going to ask to help save my life again. "I am sorry," I said to him. He did not answer, just gave an odd look. "I am no better than you," I continued. "You are inferior," he corrected. I felt that perhaps I should just stop right there, the human had given me his chance and I turned it down. But I did continue. "You are not a demon. You are not blind. You know the truth. And even if I am inferior, this is not a matter of right of wrong, better or worse. This is a matter of life." He said nothing, did nothing for a long time. I have no idea how long it must have been. He would look at me, then at the ground, then back to me. He just sat. And sat. "The cliffs to the north are unguarded," he suddenly said, unlocking my cage.

He did nothing more, merely stared ahead. I was free, but I could not leave. I knew it was not a trap, but I could not leave. My kind were still trapped here, and I realized that, in a way, so was he. We, he and I, would have to help to save more lives, to destroy the blindness in both of our races. We might get caught, we might get stopped, we might get killed, but in the end, it was the right thing to do. I looked at him, his head down in his lap. And then, knowing the future was uncertain, knowing that this was not really the end of our tale, of the story, I said:

"I will help you."