Human (11 page)

A hand broke through the dense crowd, briefly grazing the ivy leaf birthmark as it sought out her aching fingers through the jostling feet. Ivy grabbed it, struggling to regain her footing with stinging eyes. One-handed, she pulled her skirt across her thighs. Her face burned with embarrassment as she looked up into the eyes of her rescuer.

Orrin.
For the third time in a short morning she cursed her own stupidity as he led her through the crowd to a space beside the empty podium.

“That was quite a spill, you all’right?” Orrin asked. Ivy cringed at his sympathy; he'd obviously seen the whole thing. The
whole
thing. His eyes seemed to linger on her skirt.

“Yeah fine, I'm fine, thanks…” The crowd had escalated their feverish chanting and cheering, but Orrin seemed oblivious.

“Jaysus,” he muttered vaguely, still staring at her skirt.

“It's a birthmark,” Ivy offered unnecessarily. Her smile bordered on ridiculous.

As if caught with his finger in a jar, Orrin quickly looked up.

“An ivy leaf…
Ivy
… my parents weren't very imaginative,” Ivy said. As much as she refused to entertain the thought, this was not the way Ivy had hoped he'd find that birthmark. She could almost see Orrin consciously regaining his composure, pulling his casual charm on like a suit. She, on the other hand, wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Orrin smiled. “You sure you're alright, didn't break anything?”

“No I don't think so, just my self-respect…” she muttered, smoothing her skirt down and tucking her hair behind her ear again.
Damn fringe.

“Not on my account,” Orrin said gently. He cleared his throat, pulling his hand from his pocket. “Actually, you might have broken something; this was on the ground where you fell.” Ivy's silver chain hung through his fingers, the black stone swinging. “Seems okay now.” Orrin studied the stone for a few seconds. The initials IC stood out in sharp relief under the morning sun. The warm amulet fell between their hands as his fingers grazed her palm. Her body reacted instantly to the touch and for a split second she saw herself as something else entirely.
Beautiful. Wait, no- I didn't think that.
The emotions that coursed through her were overwhelming. Orrin wanted her. Ivy was suddenly sure of it. But it felt all wrong - she felt easy, confident, enamoured, even intrigued… by herself? Conflictingly, Ivy felt racked with humiliation at the same time.
Just breathe…. What?
She took the amulet, dropping her hand from his.

The grass beneath her feet suddenly became very interesting as Ivy fumbled to clasp the chain behind her neck again. By the time she looked up again, Orrin stood straight and poised with a crooked smile.

“Can I get you a coffee?” Orrin asked. “Seriously, you look like you need one, or maybe something stronger? I’ve a throat on me and I really need an excuse.” His eyes danced as he held out his hand to her once again. Ivy offered him a smile, confident now that she looked slightly less manic. Her fringe brushed against her eyelashes and she pushed it back.

“I'd love to Orrin, but I -”

Orrin interrupted. “No again? Seriously? Please, just grant me the pleasure of a single, terrible refectory coffee. Just one. I saved you after all.” He gestured back to the crowd.

Ivy looked around, suddenly conscious of the burgeoning rally. The protestors had driven them to fever pitch with their war-cries and now the people were growing restless. They were waiting for a speaker to ignite their passion and direct it. The orange shirt, his sales pitch complete, directed his attention and banner at the empty podium. The eyes of the crowd followed expectantly and silence fell.

Yes, god damn it. I deserve this. Ivy nodded. “One terrible refectory coffee then, I promise.” She drew confidence from Orrin's boyish victory smile. “You'll have to wait though.” A flicker of confusion clouded his eyes as she turned away.

Ivy took a deep breath and stepped up to the podium.

A sea of eyes washed over her as she stood before the hushed crowd gathering her thoughts. Finally, inspiration took Ivy by the shoulders, as it always did, and directed her voice.

“Insatiable.”

Ivy drew her eyes across the multitude, gathering strength from their collectively held breath. “Think on that word, because that is what we are facing. An
insatiable appetite
for Palm Oil. If we do nothing, then within a decade - that's in
your
lifetime,” she pointed for emphasis at the middle of the human sea, “…
ninety-eight
percent of the rainforests in Borneo and Sumatra will be burnt to the ground and replaced with Palm Oil plantations.” Ivy’s eyes were aflame and her long hair whipped her shoulders with each movement. Her reclusive nature had been evicted and she was vibrant with passion.

“Every hour,
three hundred
football fields of primary forest are destroyed in South East Asia alone. Over twenty-two million acres are already gone. It’s an epic loss, but I guarantee you, we have much more to lose. Production is set to triple within ten years.” Ivy paused and took a moment to look directly into the eyes of audience members.

“So let’s put a face to the destruction.
Elaeis guineensis.
A seemingly innocuous palm tree which is mass cultivated to create the most widely produced vegetable oil in the world.”

“In the last 24 hours,
every one of you
used palm oil. But you didn’t know it, because
they
don’t want you to know it! It’s been a part of your
cooking
, your
chocolate
,
snack foods
, your
cosmetics
,
soaps
,
detergents
and maybe even the
fuel in your car
! But you don’t know what you’re buying because it’s labelled as ambiguous, generic ‘vegetable oil’.

Ivy took the microphone from its stand and stepped in front of the wooden podium instead. There was now nothing between her and the swelling crowd and just for this moment, she wanted it that way.

“So,” she called bitterly, “considering a lot of us here didn't know what palm oil was a few minutes ago, I'd say it is high time we gave it some attention!”

The microphone rang and cheers of support from Ivy's orange-clad crew sounded through the crowd. A rush of applause and affirmations rose to the podium. She let a moment pass.

“There are at least two and a half billion acres of abandoned land around the world that could be used for palm oil plantations with nearly sixteen million in Indonesia alone. Enough to cover the projected need our world has. So why burn our forests and take the homes and livelihoods of the indigenous people that need them?” Ivy’s jaw clenched. Her eyes were hard and cold.

Ivy threw her fist onto the podium. “I'll tell you why! Because it’s cheaper to burn forest than to resurrect ruined land. And not just their own land! After they’re ravaged and sold off as timber, the forests become great blazing walls of fire as far as the eye can see.” She paused for dramatic effect but her audience didn’t need it. “Massive amounts of carbon dioxide are released, pushing climate change. They cause drought, soil erosion and uncontrollable fires. Toxins drain into the oceans bleaching the Great Barrier Reef.”

Ivy let the words flow from memory. She never worried she would forget what to say anymore, only the consequences of saying nothing.

“
This
is unsustainable.
This
is criminal. And to compound the problem, these plantations are financed by major international banks.
Your
banks,
your
money. Flowing to the pockets of a handful of people with strong political influence -and because of their influence, it’s almost impossible to enforce laws on them.”

From the crowd below the podium, Liam jumped up onto the platform. Ignoring the microphone in Ivy’s hand, he yelled toward the audience.

“Ten years ago, these villagers had the most biodiverse forests in the world to provide their food and shelter! Now they work for pitiful wages under dangerous conditions. They’re angry!” Liam’s voice rose provocatively. “The
legacy
they leave for their children will be ruined land and a broken economy.” His face was red and sweaty. Ivy ushered him back off the stage with a minute shake of her head and a glare.

“This is about more than employment,” Ivy replied evenly, moving back behind the podium. “Pesticides are being leached into rivers, killing fish and leaving no fresh water for drinking and bathing. There are chronic illnesses and breathing problems in plantation workers and brain defects in newborn children.”

Visions danced before Ivy’s eyes of violence and sacrifice and the most innocent of victims. The fire within her mellowed. This was always the hardest part.

“Setting the forests alight is the cheapest and fastest way to clear land. But hese fires destroy everything in their path. Animals that try to escape, like these Orangutans,” Ivy threw her arms wide to the wall of the photographs in the information stands, “Flee to the only remaining trees for food and safety.
The plantations.
But there’s a price on their heads. Palm oil workers are
paid extra to murder.
Orangutans are beaten and attacked. Burnt alive in their desperation to escape, when they have nowhere else to go. Any infants that survive are captured, only to be sold into a life of misery in the illegal pet trade. There is no escape for them.”

Ivy drew her eyes slowly across the courtyard; even the air seemed not to breathe.

“Not a single tree is left to shield these creatures from one of their closest cousins.
Us.
Humanity.
A cousin that shares
ninety-seven percent
of their DNA. A cousin that has already murdered more than fifty thousand of them and leaves them clinging to the very edge of extinction. An endangered listing holds
no
weight against profiteering and industry.” Ivy's voice rang out. Appalled silence caught even the orange crusaders, who were well versed with the horrors she spoke of.
When did humanity become so inhumane?

Ivy’s thoughts flicked to Kyah, whose wounds were reflected in the eyes of each orphaned orangutan plastered on the information booths. She imperceptively shook her head and her voice dropped to almost a whisper into the microphone. “They are gentle, benevolent and highly self aware. I guarantee each and every one of you, that if you look into their eyes, you will see a reflection of your own humanity.” Ivy searched the eyes of her audience and tried to find her own.

She took a deep breath. It was time for action, strong and clear.

“These forests are the most biodiverse place on our planet. The cure for cancer could be hidden in them, burning as we speak. This is on
our
head;
we
must act now.
We
must take on this challenge!
We
must be their voice!”

Cheering erupted from the crowd and orange banners flew. The released tension of hundreds of protesters shot through the chilled morning air like lightning.

“We
cannot
leave this to the corporations that feed their own pockets first!” Ivy yelled. More cheers came. Banners waved. Those who had been watching from the sidelines surged forward to join the throng.

“We must make financiers accountable
for their impact!
” Ivy's fist hit the podium as she spoke and with each resolution came a resounding applause.

“We must ensure that sustainable resources are the
only
trade companies that we will accept!

“We must enforce environmental impact assessments, effective law enforcement and humane wildlife management
on the ground
!

“We are the consumers! We drive the economy! This is our money and we will decide how it’s spent!”

The crowd roared. Ivy's heart thumped as she stepped down from the podium. Her audience began moving and the orange shirts set to work once more. They milled through the masses with banners held high, dispersing leaflets and sponsor forms, information sheets and a limitless supply of enthusiasm.

Ivy's eyes searched the crowd and quickly found Orrin. He was leaning against an information stand, staring at her with an unreadable expression. Ivy took a deep breath and walked towards him.
I don’t care what he thinks.

But she knew it was a lie.