The Pole Shift

Mnem Understands

When Mnem got back to the flat the little female sparrow had recovered, she was bloodied and some of her new tail feathers were missing. The little one wasn't emotionally affected and her double barrelled chirrup was bright. Mnem knew sparrows fought all the time and the attack was part of the birds psyche, Mnem accepted what had happened as customary. She was troubled though, there was something that happened that wasn't normal. The man. She had sensed his awareness of her was thorough, he knew her in some way. She could tell it from, well, she didn't know how. Was it love? Is this what love was? Her heart did not skip a beat and she decided that if it was love it was only on his side. She had felt desire from men,  she felt her sex herself, but very rarely had she felt any understanding of her from men. Who was the man?

                "He loves me." She neither smiled or frowned, but turned to the little one, a moth between thumb and fore finger. Outside on the ledge the meinie of sparrows had gathered. They had followed her home. The male leader with the chestnut bib was double barrel chirruping like a lord and hopping along the window ledge. She opened the window and whilst the sparrows did not venture in, they knew they had been made welcome.

                The sparrows made a home upon the ledge. They were noisy, quarrelsome and active. The city provided for them very well, and they were robust and a proud host. The male leader would hop along the window ledge, occasionally stretching his neck to peer in, usually at the little hen, who still preferred to roost in the apartment. She did venture out with the sparrows though and it thrilled Mnem, who held no fear for her safety. She wished she  was a sparrow too and would lay on her bed thinking about it.

                Around her, the great southern city had changed. After the  Mad Weekend's passionate lunacy, an equilibrium had been found.  Society was now not grounded in work, there was no looking into the future, no capacity for growth. It was if the working man had been thrust into their own innate selves. There was danger. The Pole Police were ruthless, they would kill on suspicion of illegal behaviour.  The supply of fresh food was the only growth activity, it had become free, the supermarkets and street markets were full.

                Mnem took to walking the streets with the sparrows. She got to know all twelve of them and could discern them from other meinies. They were reluctant to leave the immediate area around her building and she realised that their territorial instinct was very strong. They would follow the little sparrow though, she didn't have the same instincts it seemed. She would always flit along to the river, and investigate the party boats that lined the banks. The boats had had one last hurrah on the Mad Weekend, and since had been sold to groups of people who thought they had a chance on them. They were jealously guarded. Mnem would sit up on the vaults of Banana Alley that over looked the Yarra.  Here the river had been called the turning basin, where tall ships could manoeuvrer back out to sea in the early days. Europeans had landed here, and it had a feel of commotion again, of thing happening.

                Sometime she watched the guarded boats and the confrontations as people got too close.

                "Step Back!"

                " Why, what have we done?"  People would say.

                " Room for us?"

                " Can we buy it?"

                " I'm gonna burn this boat if you don't let us on."

                Most of the answers were emotional and angry, but Mnem could see other faces looking at the boats that didn't ask questions. For the first time she wondered what was going on, she hadn't engaged with the Pole Shift news, that was in the future, it wasn't happening now so she disregarded it. Seeing the people angry and scared, playing a game of cat and mouse with the party boats  was here and now though. She felt a note of alarm, should she be looking for a boat too? Her parents had been calling but she had been ignoring them, she should ask what they thought. She returned to her 9th floor apartment, wondering how high nine floors were. The sparrows flitted behind her in treble helix movement.

         When Mnem opened her door there was a note laying at her feet. She picked it up and read it carefully, the hand writing was precise and clear, nearly beautiful. It read:

Mnemosyn,

I am the man you met in the park. I am very interested in you and want to help you understand what is coming. I can explain what you need to do. Meet me in the park at the same time tomorrow. Bring your sparrow. I am a friend.

M.

                It was the man who loved her. She expressionlessly contemplated the note. She didn't ponder how he knew where she lived or  that he knew her unusual name. She dutifully believed that the instructions were for her benefit.  Instead of calling her parents she looked to the window sill where her little hen was tapping to come in.

                The next day Mnem walked the sublime streets of the city. More people had gathered and like at the boats there was and edginess that prickled her skin. Eyes followed her, and even  though the Pole Police were there, there was an undercurrent of dissent. The man was sitting on the bench even though she was early. The sparrows who had been weaving around her feet darted every which way, happy to be back at the bench it seemed.

                "Hello." she said and he looked up. She knew he had been aware of her long before her greeting.

                "Hello Mnemosoyne."

                "No one really calls me that, how do you know that's my full name?" Her facial expression  was detached and Macka decided to tell truth.

                "I am from the government, sometimes our surveillance highlights certain behaviour. You are strange, peculiar to the vast majority,  and we want to know if it is worth us helping you survive the Pole Shift.

                "Survive it?"

                "Most will perish Mnem."

                "What is the Pole Shift again?" She was feeling like she should call her Mum and Dad, but instead sat down on the bench and listened to the man tell the story of the Pole Shift. When he had finished she understood for definite that soon everything would be gone and she might live or she might not. If she did live then the Man said she would have help from special people who had systems that could send drones to assist. She need only ask out loud for food, or medicine or how to do something. Things would be listening and hear her ask.  He told the story very well, she felt like it was bed time, and images of her childhood fleeted in and out of memory. She looked up at him after there had been a steady silence.

                "How will I survive it?"

                "Ah, now that's your test. We are watching very many people and we can only help once things are settled. Some say get to high ground, some say find a boat. Some dig themselves in deep underground."

                "What will you do?" He paused, he knew that what he was telling her was being recorded, for instant appraisal or playback. He had been told not to divulge plans.

                "My part of the government have places high up in the mountains. The old Ski Towns, some of the higher villages. They are restricted. Whatever you do don't get caught up with the idea that safety lies there. it won't be the Pole Shift that kills you, it will be The New World Order."  He knew she didn't get it, but obedience shone in her eyes.

                "I won't." She thought for a moment. "Maybe I will hit the road, I wonder if I can get a campervan and see the deserts again?"

                "What you do is up to you. Think hard, think of everything you see being in a washing machine, including you, how would you survive that?" She giggled at the imagery.

                "Washing machine." She chuckled, as if it was the punch line to a joke.

                 Macka left saying he would see her again. He wanted to let his revelations settle on her. He was unsure how wise it was to travel, but he did not want to involve himself with this part of her story. He had given her a heads up, and like a chicken farmer with incubating eggs, he didn't want to count which ones he thought would hatch.