So this bogeyman came into the Hearth from San Francisco, creeping and sneaking his way closer to the main settlement. Mana-ma took great delight in explaining how horrible he looked, with green hair and metal studs, moving tattoos and Impure clothing, none of it made from good cotton, silk or leather.

Why did he come? Let’s see … perhaps he ran out of money and thought he’d be able to steal from us. (That would have been a failure—we didn’t have anything worth anything, except some vintage stuff in not-too-good condition. Well, at least that’s what I thought at the time.) Mana-ma said he thought he’d be able to get away with a crime more easily here. And that was maybe true, but she left out how low crime in the evil, Impure world really was, which would have made a few people wonder if it was really that bad if it was so safe.

This bogeyman came right into the center of the Hearth and stole a young girl from her own home. He drugged her and dragged her, kicking and screaming (evidently not loud enough to wake anyone up), into the forest. Under the silent redwood trees he had his way with her, holding a knife to her throat and saying if she screamed that he’d give her another smile. So he hurt her and she stayed quiet. Just as she was about to give up and scream so he would kill her (because people would somehow hear that scream), a brave member of the Hearth came to her rescue.

This upstanding member of the Hearth fought off the intruder and the miscreant was slain. Though the girl was obviously traumatized by events, through the help of the Hearth she was able to release the darkness the man had planted within her, at least for a time. Later, the darkness took hold of her again and nothing could be done for her.

“This tragedy is why we must remain separate,” Mana-ma would cry, holding her arm up high at the pulpit. “This is what we seek to prevent. For the Impure can poison the minds of the Pure, and we must guard that untainted spark within us all.”

It was always that sort of lesson—that the Impure would blemish us all and we were the last true humans, unaltered, unsullied.

The thing is: that’s not remotely what happened.

The Real Story

The man who came to the Hearth came to rescue the girl, not hurt her.

A gap in the story is, I have no idea how he knew her. Perhaps they met in the forest: her on one side of the former chain-link fence around the border, and him on the other. I could imagine the romance developing—putting their fingers through the metal wires and touching for the first time.