"Oh some dark bitu!" The optician exclaims as we enter the shop. Ve is a light-gray furred bitu wearing brown trousers and an off-white button-up shirt, with a pair of circular eyeglasses resting on ver snout. Ve wears a smile that disarms me and simultaneously makes me worry that ve might make the conversation uncomfortably personal. "You are my favorite kind of customer! Come in, come in. My name is Demo. Let me be of service to you!"
The sudden shift in tone from the vitriol of the officers to the enthusiasm of Demo is quite jarring. I'm not sure if I appreciate it or if it's a bit too much.
The store is clean and well-built, likely receiving government grants since its services are a matter of healthcare. However, it is still privately owned, so there will be a price for whatever glasses we choose. Nonetheless, the extra funds are probably what allows the store to have an indoor space with a large window that lets in light. There are several dozen spectacles adorning the walls, and a counter displaying a large wheel of lenses.
We approach the counter, and Demo hurriedly grabs an incense stick and lights it using the fire from an overhead lantern. "Allow me to make you a bit more comfortable. I know how you like these sorts of smells."
The scent wafting from the incense stick smells somewhat like cheap firewood.
"Uh, thanks," Miya remarks.
"I appreciate your kindness," I say, "but please treat us like any other customer."
"Oh, of course." Demo says.
"It's okay." I say.
"No, you're right. We really are all the same." Demo says.
"Right." I say.
"We all work hard to get to where we are. I'm sure you have worked just as hard as I have and have weathered similar trials." Demo says confidently.
"Right..." I say.
"Why do you sound so uncertain about that?" asks Demo, "Don't listen to anyone who tells you that you are lesser than or otherwise disadvantaged just because your fur is dark. You are living proof that if you work hard, you can rise out of poverty. Besides, dark vetu are not the only ones who reside in Hosudiha."
"Okay, thanks." I say sharply, trying to let on that I would really rather stop talking about this.
"No, I'm serious." Demo says, "Racists will always try to tell you that you are lesser or somehow disadvantaged. They will tell you it's the fault of the light vetu and that light vetu should be ashamed of being what they are despite having no choice in their complexion. They only divide us and encourage dark vetu to give up, perpetuating the stereotype. Now, would you please put your head here and let me know which looks clearer?"
I place my head against the crazy wheel of lenses.
"I'm sorry," Miya cuts in, "but there are some differences between the experiences of vetu of lighter complexions and vetu of darker complexions..."
"There, you see. You have bought into the racist propaganda. Tell me, what difference does complexion really make?" Demo continues to go back and forth between the conversation and testing our vision as do we.
"I mean, it makes no biological difference. Honestly, I think you are right about a couple of things, but I disagree with what you seem to believe we should do about it. I agree that race is ultimately a mechanism invented to divide and control us." Miya says.
"Exactly, it is an illusion," Demo asserts, "and the sooner people stop seeing race, the sooner dark vetu will stop giving up and populating Hosudiha disproportionately."
YOU ARE READING
Disarm Evil
Ciencia Ficción**Story complete!** Dima, the disowned heir of a nobel family, and Miya the pious legacy of a family of peacekeeping giant moths, are your standard white saviors sent by god to save the people of lower society from themselves. They start their mis...
