THE LOCUSTS
Once a plague of locusts decided to stay put. The fertile land upon which they’d descended in thick clouds that cast an ashen pall far and wide would do quite nicely for now. In the locusts’ minds, the place offered an open invitation to have their voracious cravings endlessly supplied. The decision not to move on was one that seemed to say to the original inhabitants of the place, “We’re the fittest species we know, and there’s not a chance in hell we won’t survive. The rest of you might as well clear out while you can.” Many did clear out, fleeing like refugees in their own land. Some hoped even in leaving that the locusts would eventually grow weary of gorging themselves on whatever they could find and a return would be possible, but most were convinced it was a lost cause. Their home was cursed, they lamented. “Nonsense,” was the invariable reply the locusts made to such complaints. “We’re just better at exploiting whatever resources might lie in our path. Besides, if we’re so bad for things around here, why are we this fat and happy, while you’re not?” Those who’d risked staying behind after the flight of their neighbors were forced to admit that to all appearances the locusts were indeed living what might easily be called “the good life.” They lacked for nothing. Their every wish and whim was met, often before they were aware they even had it. They consumed and overconsumed as if there were no tomorrow, and any challenge to the instant gratification of their appetites was over-whelmed by the sheer force of their numbers and gulosity. They seemed to be everywhere and into everything. Hushed questions began to circulate among what was left of the pre-plague community. Was it possible that the locusts were, as they never ceased to proclaim, destined for inevitable dominance wherever they turned up? Were they really meant to rule the earth and demand for themselves all of its gifts? If so, then wouldn’t one’s own fortunes be improved by joining them? There must be plenty of places still out there that were ripe for enterprising types to sweep across the land and prosper on whatever was to be found. Soon the locusts were pressed with appeals to share the secrets of a successful plague. There were no secrets, they replied, other than letting the rapacious locust spirit rule your every thought and action. But it did take time and unwavering effort to actually turn yourself into one who would not hesitate to eat their neighbors out of house and home. Meanwhile, the best that might be done for those begging to share in the bounties of the plague before it moved on was to proclaim them “honorary locusts.” “If you dedicate yourselves day and night,” these honorary locusts were assured, “your children’s children’s children may one day cover the globe.”
Copyright © 2020 by Geoffrey Grosshans