MAROONED

A tribe has been living on an island for millions of years. The island has plenty of everything they need to survive and they take of it’s bounty freely, thinking that it will always be there. Their legends speak of how they came from the stars, or how they rose up from the earth, but they don’t really know what’s true. All they know is that their ancestors lived in caves and discovered fire. Their island is no longer the paradise it once was. They have sent ships out looking for other races like themselves, but they seem to be alone in the world.

The island is getting really hot, and what’s more, the fuel that they have used to get around and protect themselves from the elements is getting scarce. There is a hole in the sky through which the sun’s rays send down a killer disease. The water around them is poisoned by their own thoughtlessness, and is undrinkable. The fish are dying too. Nobody knows quite what to do, and they can never agree on one plan of action because there are too many of them, and they all have strong opinions that polarize them into camps. It begins to dawn on some of them that their children are going to inherit a very troubled future, and it is their fault. But what to do? How to do it?

Most of the world is asleep, and all they ever seem to do is make movies or watch movies. They tell stories to entertain themselves, and lull themselves. Movies, in fact, are the only things that can reach all over the world and touch every human heart.

But what is the message that will touch every human heart and galvanize them into action. Movies have been made about catastrophes, like a comet hitting the earth, and these don’t seem to be enough. Some people hope for a new messiah to be born to save them, or die for their sins. But the island is so crowded that there is no one figure who stands taller than the rest. Finally they decide that they will tell their story. Their history, as though it were fiction. They will tell the story and imagine a happy ending. How would this story have a happy ending? It would take an act of God, to inspire every human heart with the awe of creation, like their ancestors must have felt when they discovered fire, or made music for the first time. So a little band of warriors decide to make a movie called The Last Buddha.

It is about 640 people, living on a small island, only 30 miles in diameter. A microcosm. These 640 people live in 4 tribes divided by a lake, or a few hills, or just an imaginary line. There are 5 people on this island who have an enlightened view of life and it’s purpose. The rest live in various stages of selfishness, good at heart, but unable to make goodness prevail in their lives. And it is destroying their world. The fish are dying, the sun, once their benefactor is getting hotter, the water is undrinkable, the fuel is getting scarce, disease is spreading. There is not enough room for all of them and yet each one lives alone, and they are unable to take care of each other.

Finally the report comes in from the chief of the most powerful tribe that they only have enough food on the whole island for 20 of them, and therefore they must go to war to kill the rest of the island, so that their tribe can survive. The tribe begins to prepare for war. Except for the 5 people. They are sitting in their room and singing a song. It is a very beautiful creation song, exquisite music, inspiring words, singing the praises of all the bounty they see around them…the sunrise, the softness of a child’s cheek, the smile on an old-mans face, the tears that they cry when they suffer. They are in their room, singing. At first no-one hears them. But then a few passers by who are on their way to a city council meeting, or to the blacksmith’s to sharpen their swords, pause to hear the music wafting through the window. It captivates them, with it’s angelic tones and lilting melody . They begin to hum the tune or whistle it as they walk on, a little smile on their faces. Some stay and start singing along. One little boy knocks on the door and asks if he can join them. Others drift in and join them. Now they are singing in the next house. And the next. All the children begin to sing the song. Now there are so many people singing that the song can be heard for miles across the island. The words of the song penetrate the hearts and soul of the people and soon their fear and anger begins to melt away. They sit and sing the praises of the world around them, even as the world is falling apart. Soon everyone in the tribe is singing this song of praise, except for their despotic leader and a few of his deaf friends who are bent over their war plans. The singing is interrupted by the deafening sound of guns going off in a war-game. A silence falls over the singers, a shadow ripples through the room. One man gets up and says…look, if we were to stop eating so much, we would not have to fight this war. We would be able to feed everybody. If we’re selfish and keep fighting like this, we’ll just destroy half the island, and then we might win, but we’ll have killed all these people. I don’t want to kill, do you? NOOOOOOOO came the resounding cry. Well, let’s march on down to the capitol and sing our song to the leader. Maybe it will soften his heart too.

They all get up, and the fiddlers are fiddling, and the drummers are drumming, they are a marching band, singing the greatest story ever told, and they reach the capitol.

They start serenading under the window of the war-room. The deaf old captain hears the melody. What’s that sound, he asks? I don’t know, let’s test the second gun, answers the admiral. Then suddenly, the leader’s 5 year-old granddaughter bursts into the room, saying Grandpa, can you hear!!! They’re singing my song. The melody of the song is like the lullaby that the leader heard from his mother when he was a child, and that he hummed to his daughter, and now to his granddaughter. He hears the words of the song for the first time. All he had ever known was the tune. He sees his grandaughter’s innocent face shining and his brittle old heart breaks open. It flowers. His face crumples in tears that he has long withheld in his terror.

He drops the war map and picks up his granddaughter and goes to the window.