Man works both for and against the earth, In these seven variously mystical, damning, challenging, and humorous Earth Day–themed stories, habu strips the relationship of human beings to the Earth and heavens—at or near the beginning of time—down to the basic elements of man’s relation to nature and spirit in a primitive-beat, erotic mix of different approaches to shared fundamental questions. Who is in charge here? And how do we, as human beings, connect to and adjust our own basic wants and desires to the glories and delicate balance of the universe?
Starting back before time began, “Strip Evolution” is a tongue-in-cheek explanation of the creation story. Moving along in time, “Out of Sun” depicts primitive man seeing earth rhythms as messages from the gods that man had to serve and try to manipulate. The attempt by man to both serve and manipulate the earth in a primitive environment continues with “The Provider.” “Hey, Good Buddy,” moves the anthology into the modern world with a humorous ditty of two park rangers using environmental concerns to score with a young, unwitting fisherman. The humor continues with a misunderstanding in dealing with hazardous electronic waste in “Hijacked.” Turning serious, both “Marsh Assault” and “For the Glory of the Earth” deal with the fight of environmentalists against those who would defile and degrade the Earth in their greed for short-term profit.
From “Hey, Good Buddy”
The two stood there, behind bushes and trees, watching the young guy for quite some time before they made a move. Joe had assured Al that it would only be a matter of time before they could make a move.
“See that pile of beer cans there? He can’t last too much longer.”
The guy was young, one of those blonds with spiked hair—too blond to naturally be his, although he probably wasn’t too far off blond, they discovered when he took his T-shirt off and was just in shorts. The hair on his body was a light, blondish down.
He was thin, what you’d call willowy, with a nice body that was only lightly muscled, but muscled enough to say he wasn’t too girlish. His face was sort of girlish, though, more pretty and sultry than manly handsome. His eyes were sort of broodish and his lips sensual and thick. He obviously liked jewelry, because he had multiple piercings with silver rings in them: an eyebrow, an ear, his lip—and when he finally rose up from where he was sitting and stretched and turned half facing Joe and Al, they could see he had a ring in his navel too. His shorts hung low on his slim hips. The curls of pubic hair from his groin peeking out from below his waistband showed light auburn tones.
“There, told you he wasn’t a natural blond,” Joe whispered.
“Sortta close, though. Looks kinda sissy to me,” Al answered with a little snort.
“Out here beggars and choosers and such,” Joe whispered back. “Besides, chances are good we won’t be stuck with a third top with nowhere to go. I think he’s kinda cute. You don’t seem to be put off yourself. You’ve been workin’ your yang for several minutes now.”
“I’m so keyed up now, I could probably fuck a deer. I got a yin to use my yang.”
“Shhh,” Joe admonished. “I think we’re about to be in business.”
The young guy had been sitting beside a stream where water was racing across rocks in the streambed. He had been sitting next to one of several deeper pools of water, lazily casting into the pool with a fishing line on a bamboo rod and frequently looking away from the pool and taking a swig of beer from the six-pack he’d brought. He looked like he was down to his last can. And he hadn’t caught anything, even though the flash of light off of fish scales where the stream raced between the rocks promised that there were, indeed, fish to catch.
The young man stood and stretched. He pulled his pole back from the water and wedged the end of it between two rocks, leaving the line dangling in the water.
The shorts the guy was wearing were cut-off jeans, with practically no leg to them. A beam of sunlight caught his body as he grasped his fists behind his neck and stretched, working out the kinks, showing off his torso to the best effect. Al gave a little growl.
“Down, boy,” Joe whispered. “You’re going to get a piece of that.”
“You sure?” Al answered. “He’s going to get away.”
“I don’t think so. Wait for it. Just a couple of seconds more.”
The young man was gingerly moving out into the stream, moving from one smooth-topped rock to another, being very careful because he was barefoot. His sandals were sitting by the side of the stream next to his T-shirt.
Reaching the middle of the stream, the young man turned toward where the water was rushing from.
Al moaned as the young man unbuttoned his fly, spread the sides of his skimpy denim shorts, and fished out his cock. Holding that in his hand, he arched his back and began to piss in a long, steady, golden arch—into the onrushing waters of the stream.
“Now,” Joe growled. Not caring how much noise he was making, he strode out of the tree line and to the bank of the stream. Al stumbled out of the scrub too, in Joe’s wake.
“Hey, good buddy. Watcha doin’?” Joe called out in a thunderous voice.
