Two groups, Ooches and Yobs, lived on a mostly barren world that circled a shimmering yellow sun. The smaller, meek Ooches, who grew and gathered the food eaten by all, worked for the wavy-haired, much larger Yobs, who owned all the fertile land.
After declaring it was their destiny to rule over the Ooches, the Yobs forced the Ooches to live in the stark, clammy caves located in the rocky foothills that surrounded the lovely lush valley occupied by the Yobs.
Along with bountiful fruit and nut trees, sparkling spring-fed ponds and a steady flow of warm air, the valley had helpful bobbers—flying pudgy purple bumblebee-like residents that busily attended to whatever needed to be pollinated. Thanks to the golf-ball-size bobbers, there were many tasty treats and a wide-range of colorful, eye-catching flowers.
Different from Yobs, the Ooches saw bobbers as much more than carriers of pollen. They also saw them as special teachers to be studied and modeled. When spotting one of the pretty flying baubles swoop and sway through the air, the Ooches often took time to watch it pull up a foot or so from its target and proceed to bob as if facing a steady headwind. To the Ooches, the bobbing of the bobbers was a delicate dance—a beautiful ballet that revealed bobbers knew not only how to pollinate but also how to live with patience, grace and honor.
Though Yobs had a much easier life than Ooches, they weren’t without troubles. A big problem for Yobs was the way they travelled about. Thought by them to be a show of progress, the popular wups Yobs used often crashed. Wups were one- and two-person wooden wagons powered by motors that were wound by hand.
The wagons were called wups because they made a wup-wup-wup sound when underway. Making the wind-up motors used in wups more and more powerful had made traveling about more and more dangerous. By far, riding in a wup was the leading cause of injuries.
Another huge problem for the Yobs was one shared by the Ooches: It was eating uh-oh berries. The uh-ohes grew on bushes that sprang from foothill crevices. Long ago, the berries were only eaten to lessen physical pain. Over time, though, some Yobs and Ooches also ate them to feel less anxious, sad or angry. The pesky drawback was eating the uh-ohes made it hard for Yobs and Ooches to concentrate, which, in turn, made both groups more prone to mishaps.
To avoid blame for mishaps due to eating the uh-ohes, those doing so would usually deny they’d eaten them. Once family or friends found out the truth, which often happened, there was much quarreling. Just about everyone eating uh-ohes found it harder to avoid mishaps and harder to get along with others.
Like all children, young Yobs were curious. Sometimes, their curiosity helped them learn new and useful things. Other times, it led them to discover the adults didn’t always have good answers.
One Yob child, Bree, had become very interested in understanding why adult Yobs treated the Ooches poorly. Her curiosity led her to ask questions that caused her mother and teacher to see her as rebellious.
Bothered by her daughter’s willful readiness to question adults, Bree’s mother, who happened to be a top official, decided to take Bree to a nearby park for a talking-to. On their way, they passed an orchard, where Ooch children were picking fruit and nuts. Spotting a familiar Ooch girl who had always smiled back, Bree slowed and waved.
Seeing the girls wave to each other caused Bree’s mother, Mih, to bristle. “You haven’t befriended that oo, have you?” sternly asked the mother. Calling an Ooch an oo was a popular putdown—a common way for Yobs to belittle Ooches.
After cringing a bit when she heard the Ooch girl called an oo, Bree answered. “She’s someone I like to wave to. Isn’t thinking she’s not good enough to be a friend not nice?” she asked.
“The ooes don’t make good friends. All Yob parents make sure their children don’t befriend ooes,” said the mother as she nudged Bree to walk faster.
“I’ve never seen any Ooch be unkind or unfair. Why wouldn’t they make good pals?” wondered Bree.
“The ooes don’t want to improve themselves. Let’s sit and chat about the talk I had with your teacher. She’s concerned about you,” replied the mother while starting for a bench by a shady tree.
“She and I sometimes clash,” shared Bree as they sat. “Yesterday, she said wups were a great invention. When I disagreed by saying too many get hurt while traveling in wups, she got grouchy.”
The mother sided with Bree’s teacher. “Five minutes of cranking gets a wup rider from one end of Yob Valley to the other. Because of how fast wups are, Yobs have time to do other things, such as make the gings we’re wearing.” Gings were two-piece outfits the Yobs made out of a crop picked by Ooches.
Bree was puzzled. “But isn’t it more important to prevent injuries? I don’t understand why adults and teens don’t walk more and crank less,” she posed.
“Many of the wup accidents happen after drivers have eaten uh-oh berries, Bree,” explained the mother. “Though properly used to ease physical pain by those who are very ill or badly injured, weaklings wrongly eat uh-oh berries to ease mental distress.”
“What’s mental distress?” asked Bree.
“It’s what weaklings feel when life gets difficult,” answered the mother.
“Maybe Yobs should stop using wups until they figure out how to lessen distress?” pressed Bree.
“You can forget about the Yobs giving up on wups. Making, selling and repairing them, as well as using them to haul all sorts of things, are important ways Yobs make yims,” explained the mother. Yims were the coins the Yobs used to pay workers and buy goods.
“I think being safe should be more important than making yims,” said Bree as two adult Ooches carrying full baskets of fruit on their backs began passing by.
Already annoyed with Bree, the mother scowled when one of Ooches stumbled, causing him to drop some fruit onto the ground. “Those clumsy ooes have probably been eating uh-oh berries,” accused the mother.
Dressed in the Ooches’ usual garb—ruffled hand-me-down clothes—the passersby quickly crouched to pick up what had fallen.
Becoming even more irritated when she heard the Ooches chatting, the mother grumbled loud enough for them to hear. “Though we’ve told them to speak correctly, the defiant little ooes hold on to their twang to make it hard for Yobs to know when they’re saying bad things about us,” claimed the mother.
“Why do you think they’re saying bad things about us?” asked a perplexed Bree as she watched the Ooches hurry off.
“I just told you that they refuse to speak correctly. If they won’t follow simple rules for speaking and dressing, they can’t be trusted,” answered her mother.
“I understand them fine, and I don’t see what’s wrong with their clothes,” said Bree.
“Wearing worn, wrinkled, patched gings is a way to be defiant,” replied the mother.
“Maybe Ooches think dressing differently won’t help them get respect,” offered Bree.
“Respect is something that must be earned, Bree,” noted the mother.
“Everyone knows, even kids, that without the Ooches to climb trees, the Yobs wouldn’t have the food they need to live. Isn’t that a good enough reason to think well of Ooches?” asked Bree.
That wasn’t what the irked mother wanted to hear. “You’ve heard me and other adult Yobs again and again explain the way things are. Why, as of late, are you so disagreeable? You’ve become determined to create a fuss every chance you get!” accused the mother.
Bree scratched her head. “Something has changed for me. Unlike before, I need to know why sometimes not being nice is OK. How the Ooches are treated, especially making them live in the caves, seems unkind and unfair to me,” she answered.
“The ooes are cave dwellers for a good reason!” claimed the mother.
“What’s the good reason?” asked Bree.
The mother was quick to answer. “They don’t just have stunted bodies. Their minds are stunted, too. If the stronger and smarter Yobs didn’t rule over them, they’d be worse off. . . . They won’t even use yims to buy food!” she carried on.
“Don’t they pick the food they need?” asked Bree.
“They can’t just pick what they need. All the food belongs to the Yobs. After the ooes gather it, the Yobs give them an agreed upon portion,” explained the mother.
“I didn’t know all the food belongs to the Yobs. That doesn’t make sense,” said Bree, even more confused.
“It makes perfect sense!” firmly stated the mother.
Bree turned palms upward. “How can those who don’t grow or gather the food own all of it?” she wondered.
“Like I already told you, being better in all the ways that matter has destined the Yobs to rule over the Ooches!” declared the mother.
“I’ve heard adult Yobs say climbing trees with baskets is scary. It doesn’t seem fair that the ones brave enough to climb are ruled by the ones too frightened to climb,” pointed out Bree.
“That’s because you don’t appreciate how progress comes about. Once again, without the Yobs, the Ooches would be worse off,” insisted the mother.
Bree had another question. “What could be worse than living in the dank, gloomy caves?”
Frustrated, the mother rose, then turned to Bree. “Why do you think the land on which the food grows is called Yob Valley? The answer is because the Yobs, not the ooes, own the land. You understand what it means to own something, right?”
While walking alongside her mother as they headed for home, Bree continued to speak up for the Ooches. “I’ve heard the Ooches don’t like being called ooes. It’s unkind to call them something they don’t like, isn’t it?” asked Bree.
“You haven’t been listening to me!” complained the mother before smugly spouting what she believed to be obvious. “Calling them ooes is the natural thing to do!”
“How is it natural?” challenged Bree.
Now quite perturbed, the mother again explained why she believed the Yobs were superior. “The answer is as plain as anything can be. Use yourself as an example, Bree. You’re already taller than adult ooes. Also, you don’t find using yims unnecessary!”
Though she knew her mother was aggravated, Bree didn’t stay quiet. “But I’m only taller because I grew to be taller. And when it comes to using yims, I just do it because I’m told to. I have no idea why yims are necessary.”
Stepping in front of Bree to bring them both to a sudden halt, the mother looked down at her daughter, then curtly ended their talk. “Yobs are better than ooes. Calling them ooes reminds them and us of that fact. It’s that simple. Someone who’s had the good fortune to be a Yob shouldn’t fuss. So, don’t!”
After returning home, Bree and her mother spotted something unexpected and unsettling. The family wup had been badly smashed! Hurrying toward the wreckage as they watched a tow-wup drive away, their attention soon shifted to Bree’s teenage brother, Nib, who staggered a bit as he exited the front door of their adobe-style house with his forehead bandaged.
Moving to and leaning on the battered wup, Nib played down his accident. “I think the damage can be repaired in a few days,” he noted.
“Was anyone else involved,” crossly asked the mother.
“The woman I collided with may have broken her leg. The yobba took her to be looked at.” The yobba were the police. “I told them I swerved when a bobber zigzagged in front of me,” explained Nib.
The mother plopped hands on hips. “You’re trying to avoid the punishment you’d receive for driving a wup after eating uh-oh berries,” she contended.
“I didn’t eat uh-ohes. There’s no need to be ashamed of me,” lied Nib, hoping his mother would ease up.
Rather than calm down, the mother grew angrier. “Because I know you did eat them, I am ashamed!” she blared.
“I didn’t eat them!” again fibbed Nib.
“Then why did you wobble out of the house?” questioned the mother.
“The collision left me dazed,” claimed Nib.
“You’re lying!” shouted the mother.
Having seen her mother and brother argue fiercely in the past, Bree became more anxious.
Nib pounded his fist on the wup’s busted wooden fender, then brazenly confessed. “What if I did eat them?” he challenged.
“I’m one of The Three! It would be humiliating to have you get into a wup accident because you ate uh-oh berries!” hollered the irate mother. By saying she was one of The Three, the mother was reminding her son she was a member of the elected Yob Valley governing committee—the trio who made the rules all Yobs and Ooches had to follow.
“You may as well get the rest of my bad news: I’m quitting maru!” informed Nib. Marus were schools Yob children attended.
Saying that is sure to make things worse, thought Bree.
“That’s definitely not going to happen!” growled the mother.
“I’m tired of all the failing and bullying,” fought back Nib.
The mother screeched. “Stop being a weakling!”
“I am a weakling,” feebly said Nib.
“You got the uh-oh berries from ooes. Those conniving little troublemakers are trying to weaken the Yobs so that they can take over!” accused the mother.
“Don’t blame the Ooches. I got the uh-ohes on my own,” insisted Nib.
“You can forget about quitting maru,” said the mother. “And the next time you eat those berries, I’m having the yobba lock you up for a week! Don’t think I won’t put up with shame to straighten you out!” she threatened.
“You won’t even try to understand,” wearily said Nib as he turned to retreat to his bedroom.
An hour later, after things had calmed down, Bree went to Nib in search of answers. “I’d like to talk,” she told him from his bedroom doorway.
“Come in, then close the door behind you,” he replied as he sat up on his bed.
“I don’t understand why Mother always blames the Ooches,” said Bree.
A downhearted Nib had an answer. “After our ancestors decided it was their destiny to rule over the Ooches, they took up and passed on Ooch-blaming. Always blaming Ooches lets the Yobs continue to pretend it’s OK to mistreat them,” he explained.
“So, accusing Ooches of being troublemakers gives Yobs a reason to act as if it was and still is OK not to be nice to them,” said Bree, wanting to understand.
“Of course, finding another Yob who’ll admit that’s so won’t be easy,” noted Nib.
Something else was bothering Bree. “I wish you didn’t eat uh-ohes,” she told her brother.
Nib turned away. “I’m tired of struggling to learn maru stuff I don’t care about, and I’ve had it with getting teased because of my size. You don’t go to the same maru as me. So, you don’t hear me get called an oo because I’m smaller than all the other Yob boys. . . . I don’t feel so bad after eating a handful of uh-ohes, at least not for awhile,” he softly answered.
“We have to make Mother understand what’s happening to you at maru,” said Bree.
“Talking to her is useless. She’ll just again tell me to stop being a weakling,” said Nib, sighing before continuing. “One of The Three can’t have a weakling for a son.”
Bree was discouraged. “Adults aren’t spending enough time making sure kids learn to be nice,” she decided.
“That’s for sure,” said Nib.
“Being nice isn’t something to memorize for a test. It’s something everyone needs to keep going over,” proposed Bree before trying to better understand why uh-oh berries were so popular. “Do you always feel good after eating uh-ohes?” she asked.
A glum Nib answered. “Usually, but soon afterward, I often feel down and want more. . . . Uh-ohes make it easy to crash a wup, because they make it hard to pay attention to what you’re doing. The wup accident I had was my fault,” he revealed.
“Are you really going to quit maru?” asked Bree.
“As soon as I find an empty cave to move into,” answered Nib.
“You’re going to live among the Ooches!” replied a surprised Bree.
“It’s the only way for me and Mother to stop battling,” said Nib.
“How will you get yims to buy food?” asked a concerned Bree.
“Maybe I can sell uh-ohes to the Yobs who don’t want to go into the foothills to get them,” said Nib.
“But selling uh-ohes can get you in a lot of trouble,” fearfully warned Bree.
“I’ll be careful. . . . One thing is for sure: I’m done with wups. Knowing I hurt someone has me wanting more uh-ohes,” regretted Nib.
Bree tried to change Nib’s mind. “Won’t selling uh-ohes leave you knowing you may have helped someone else crash a wup? Besides, eating them must cause hurt in lots of ways,” she pointed out.
Nib remained silent.
“I think you know eating them isn’t a good way to take care of your mind,” gently said Bree, again trying to be helpful.
“The Three should put you in charge of making sure everyone’s mind gets the care it needs,” said Nib with a brief chuckle.
With arms lifted and palms held upward, Bree spoke with confidence. “If I was in charge of such care, I’d make sure Yobs knew that nothing can keep us from knowing when we’re not nice.”
“You’re right, Bree. We always know when we’re not nice. Sooner or later, we end up feeling bad about ourselves,” admitted Nib.
“We need ways to keep reminding ourselves how important it is to be nice!” said Bree as she looked out a window and spotted a bobber careen toward a flower. She then watched the bobber pause in order to flap and bounce in front of the flower’s long white tunnel-like petals.
“You’ll make that known to all Yobs one day, Bree,” flattered Nib.
Bree dropped elbows on to the sill, plopped chin into cupped palms and kept eyes on the plump purple pollinator as it bobbed every which way—up and down, side to side, forward and backward. “There must be a way to get Yobs to begin to at least talk about making sure everyone’s mind gets the care it needs,” she pondered as the bobber finally plunged into the flower.
While walking home from maru the following day, Bree again came upon the orchard where several of the Ooch children worked. Soon after spotting the girl who always returned a wave and smile, something unusual happened: The Ooch girl walked to the side of the road. Deciding to ignore her mother wishes, Bree approached the girl.
The Ooch girl turned, hesitated, then shyly spoke without looking up. “I’m Rue.” Though a head shorter than Bree, Rue was about the same age.
Trying to seem smaller, Bree slouched. “I’m Bree.”
“Thanks for stopping,” said Rue as she lifted her head to make eye contact.
Bree took a deep breath. “I’m nervous,” she shared.
“I’m nervous, too,” said Rue. “I came to the road because Ooches are passing on good news to our Yob neighbors. Would you like to here it?”
“Very much,” said Bree.
“The Ooches are offering the Yobs a gift tomorrow morning outside Yob Hall,” informed Rue.
“What is it?” asked Bree.
“It’s a surprise the Ooches want to present to as many Yobs as possible. The Ooch delivering it will be speaking for all Ooches when he relays we hope the gift will make us worthy of a better life in the eyes of the Yobs,” timidly explained Rue.
“Ooches make sure everyone has food,” admired Bree. “All of you surely deserve better lives.”
Rue felt encouraged. “Once our lives improve, we hope those among us who use uh-ohes will stop using them. Much hurt follows the use of uh-ohes by Ooches,” she admitted.
“The Yobs also cause much hurt by using uh-ohes. . . . There’s not enough kindness and fairness to change things,” sadly said Bree.
“That kindness and fairness need to be taught over and over is also an important lesson for Ooches to learn. We believe the uh-ohes weaken our oochla,” shared Rue.
“What’s oochla?” asked Bree.
“It’s being ready and willing to be kind or fair. Without a strong oochla, Ooches can’t like themselves. We believe the Yobs have a yobla that’s like our oochla,” noted Rue.
Bree understood. “Eating uh-ohes definitely weakens yobla?”
Not wanting to offend Bree, Rue shrugged.
“My brother says he eats uh-ohes to feel better, but he admits that not long after eating them he feels bad again,” shared Bree.
Rue was hopeful. “If the gift helps the Yobs respect the Ooches, it could strengthen the Yobs’ yobla. Even something simple like no longer putting down Ooches by calling us ooes could improve yobla.”
Bree was enthused. “That makes sense. The Yobs have to know that calling Ooches ooes isn’t nice. No longer doing something they know isn’t nice would help Yobs like themselves. Treating the Ooches better in other ways would strengthen yobla even more!” she added.
“The gift could change things for Ooches and Yobs,” said Rue as a nearby bobber caught her attention. “The Ooches believe that along with making food, the bobbers do something else that’s special: They teach us to keep bobbing until we’re ready and willing to be nice. We’re supposed to watch the bobbers whenever we get the chance,” she shared.
“I bet watching bobbers would help Yobs, too,” noted Bree as she turned to watch the bobber in front of them do what was usual for it—bob patiently before lunging to complete the task at hand.
After again facing Bree, Rue spoke with regret. “Eating uh-ohes makes watching bobbers less likely and being not nice more likely. . . . The Ooches are hurting. Their hurt makes a lot of sadness and anger,” she worried.
“The Yobs also have much hurt that turns into sadness and anger,” said Bree. “Tomorrow’s a no-maru day. That means my brother, Nib, and I will definitely be outside Yob Hall to see the gift.”
Pleased, Rue smiled.
“I’ve never been inside an Ooch’s cave,” said Bree, hoping their talk was the start of a friendship.
“I’ve never been inside a Yob’s home. Maybe the gift will change things,” said Rue.
“I hope so; I really hope so,” wished Bree.
That night, the Ooches came together in the foothills. After lighting the tall torches they’d wedged in the rocky terrain, they waited to hear from an elder Ooch, Erb, who had been chosen to bring their gift to the Yobs.
Feeling the weight of the task before him, Erb walked to the campfire outside his cave, then took a full breath as he looked over the gathering.
Rising not far from Erb, Rue’s father got the meeting underway. “Today, we told many Yobs about our gift. So, the morning crowd outside Yob Hall should be large,” he announced before turning toward Erb. “Your willingness to deliver the gift and speak with The Three is greatly appreciated, Erb. The oochla energy of us all goes with you.”
After running hands through gray hair, Erb dropped arms by sides. He then noted the hardship the Ooches had known. “We have long searched far into the foothills for a homeland. Unable to find one, we have done our best to bring warmth and light into the cold, dark caves we’ve been forced to inhabit.”
Many in the crowd shook their heads in agreement.
Erb continued. “Despite our effort to live with honor, the scorn we have suffered has caused some among us to try to replace oochla with uh-oh berries—a choice that’s added to our misery. Tomorrow, by way of our gift, we seek to improve the lives of the Yobs and, by doing so, better our own lives.”
“Bettering our lives will lessen the lure of uh-oh berries,” called out a mother.
“That is our hope,” continued Erb. “But please, everyone, remember that despite what happens tomorrow, the power to strengthen oochla will remain within us,” he concluded before bowing his head.
Hopeful that their gift and goodwill would be appreciated by the Yobs, the Ooches let themselves believe their lives were about to change for the better.
The following day was mild and sunny—ideal weather for the outdoor delivery planned by the Ooches. After getting help covering the gift with a canvass, Erb tugged it with a rope to Yob Hall’s front patio. Soon surrounded by Yob onlookers, he untied, but didn’t remove, the canvass. He then stood close to the gift while waiting for The Three to exit Yob Hall.
When the doors to the building swung open, the crowd’s chatter ceased. Flanked by the other two committee members, Bree’s mother, Mih, led the trio to the end of a patio—a spot that put The Three within a few feet of Erb. The Three then straightened backs and lifted chins to flaunt the fact they were a full head taller than Erb.
After folding arms, Mih took charge with a no-nonsense statement. “State your purpose so that everyone can return to their daily tasks,” she ordered.
Looking up at The Three, Erb trembled as he stammered. “My name is Erb. I’ve come, I’ve come to offer, to offer a gift from, from all Ooches,” he explained before turning to grab and yank the canvass covering the gift.
Dumfounded by what appeared before them, the speechless crowd turned to The Three.
Mih was the first to take offense. “It’s a strange, ugly orange wup!” she called out.
The middle-aged father and member of The Three on Mih’s left grimaced as he, too, derided the gift. “It’s the color of uh-oh berries. No one would want to look at such a thing, never mind be seen in one!”
“Gurb, a grandmother and the member of The Three on Mih’s right, spoke next. “It must be removed from sight as soon as possible!”
Rattled by their harsh remarks, Erb suddenly did something very unexpected—something that astonished everyone. He bolted to the driver’s side of the orange wup, leaped behind the steering stick and swiftly strapped himself to the seat. Then, after wuping full-speed toward a huge tree about 25 feet away, he rammed the wup into the tree’s massive trunk!
Stunned by the chilling crash, the Yob onlookers gave whoever was close by an eye-bulging gaze. Within seconds, though, something else unexpected became apparent. The crowd began noticing that, after absorbing the blow by bending inward, the spongy body of the wup had returned to its original shape. Seeing the wup had bounced back a few feet from the tree without a minor dent or even a faint scratch left all in awe. The onlookers were also astonished when they saw that the tree slammed into had only lost a bit of bark.
Yet more remarkable, the crowd came to realize Erb was safe and sound. While strapping themselves into their wooden wups had somewhat lessened the injuries of Yob riders, doing so had never prevented such a collision from causing at least some harm. Everyone knew that if Erb had been in a wooden wup, a bruised body and broken bones would have surely resulted.
To prove he was OK, Erb leaped from the orange wup and strolled toward The Three.
Fascinated by the incredible display, a Yob fellow rushed toward the wup and tree. “It’s amazing! No harm has come to the wup or its driver. The tree looks fine, too,” he noted.
An impressed Yob mother stepped in front of Bree and Nib. “It’s unbelievable! I could get used to the color. Is the wup actually made of uh-oh berries?” she asked.
Grateful for the positive comment, Erb turned toward the mother. “The berries are one of the ingredients,” he answered before again addressing The Three. “We made the body and wheels with molds. Even better, we can mold our discovery into head, neck, back and limb protectors suited for all sorts of activities. Our discovery is light and flexible, yet strong,” he added.
A distrustful elder Yob spoke up. “How many yims will one of your wups cost?”
“They’ll be no charge for more wups or other safety items,” assured Erb.
The elder Yob softened his tone. “That’s extremely generous of the Ooches.”
A young Yob father holding a baby offered praise. “The Ooches have made a wonderful discovery.”
Things are going well, thought Erb, deciding it was time to share the hope of the Ooches. “The Ooches only seek to show we wish to improve the wellbeing of all and, in doing so, be seen as worthy fellow citizens.”
Mih narrowed eyes, brought hands to hips and swaggered closer. “If your wup becomes popular, how will those who now make and fix wups earn yims? And what will happen to those who earn yims by giving loans to buy wups? You haven’t thought about the problems your gift will cause, have you?” she grilled.
As Erb’s shoulders sagged and head tipped, Yobs in the crowd who had stepped forward slid backward.
Slowly turning as she spoke, Mih scolded all who dared think the gift should be accepted. “Have any of you considered how this so-called gift would disrupt how we live our lives?”
Erb thought of a solution. Ooches will let the Yobs make and sell our discovery,” he offered.
Mih remained harsh. “Again, wups that seldom, if ever, need to be repaired or replaced will keep many Yobs from earning enough yims!”
The member of The Three with the most at stake, Gurb, faced the crowd and also pounced. “As the largest employer in Yob Valley, I can assure everyone that many jobs will be lost if the Ooches’ wup is allowed!”
Shile, the other member of The Three, took his turn bellowing disapproval. “Because the Ooches refuse to use yims, they can’t understand the need to earn them. They haven’t tried to give us a useful gift; they’ve tried to give us a big problem! Their discovery threatens our way of life!”
Again glaring down at Erb, Mih summed up The Three’s outrage. “Ooches don’t appreciate why striving to earn as many yims as possible must be continued. Therefore, further discussing why we must reject their wup is a waste of time!” she declared before turning toward the crowd.
Everyone braced for a warning.
“Each of you should remember,” continued Mih, “that, while not the only reason for using uh-oh berries, a lack of good-paying jobs is a major one! The Three will seek punishment for anyone who tries to obstruct the right of Yobs to earn yims!”
Devastated, Erb shook his drooping head.
Turning toward the elder Ooch, Mih ended the gathering with a command for all to hear. “After quickly taking your wup from Yob Valley, Erb, we expect you to destroy it. We also expect you to destroy your plans to make anything else out of your uh-oh berry concoction!”
With eyes watering, a shriveled Erb began cranking the wup to ready it for the trip to the foothills. “The Three will never allow the Yobs to respect Ooches. Instead of a reason to celebrate, I’m bringing back a reason to despair,” he softly muttered, dreading the task of sharing the awful outcome with the rest of the Ooches.
Still gloating over their show of authority, The Three had little concern the next day when no Ooch arrived in Yob Valley to gather food. Like other adult Yobs, they assumed the Ooches needed time to recover from having their gift turned down.
Then, when no Ooches came to the Valley a second day, The Three, as well as many other adult Yobs, became uneasy. And when a third straight day passed without seeing an Ooch, the adult Yobs became very worried.
Unsure how long the Ooches would continue to stay away, The Three held an emergency meeting in Yob Hall. With each sitting around a large circular table, Mih got things rolling. “Yobs can, if necessary, pick the fruit and nuts that grow on bushes and low-hanging limbs. But, as we all know, we’ll soon need the high-up foods that require the climbing done only by ooes.”
An angry Shile pounded his fist on the table. “The ooes eat the same food we do. That means they must be sneaking into Yob Valley and climbing our trees while we’re sleeping.”
Gurb feared what the future might hold. “One frightful thing is certain: Less food means higher prices in my markets. That means my other businesses will earn less yims, which, in turn, means I’ll need less workers. In short, what’s happening is very bad for earning yims and very good for bringing about chaos!” she warned.
“Panic will surely result in an increase in uh-oh berry abuse” alerted Shile.
Flustered by what she was hearing, Mih stood, then began circling the table. “Punishment is needed!” she declared.
With clenched fists pushing against the table, Shile briskly rose. “You’re right! The ooes need to be put in their place. Let’s begin with Erb. Locking up that troublemaker for a stretch will scare the other ooes back to work.”
“Yes!” agreed Gurb. “Erb’s surely the instigator who’s encouraged other ooes to bring about the chaos they believe will put them in charge!”
Mih didn’t need to hear more. “I’ll have Erb picked up by the yobba.”
After returning for the third time that day to the orchard where she’d seen Rue, Bree once again found there were no Ooches in sight. Unable to tell Rue it was wrong of the Yobs to turn down the Ooches’ gift, Bree headed to Yob Hall to talk with her mother. Refusing the gift was mean, she told herself while hurrying along.
Soon after entering Yob Hall, Bree found her mother in the room where The Three met.
“Hi,” greeted her mother as they sat on opposite sides of the room’s large table. “What’s going on?” she asked.
Bree took a full breath, rested forearms on the table, then shared what was bothering her. “I think The Three didn’t accept the Ooches’ gift because doing so would make it harder to continue to feel OK about treating them badly.”
Not wanting others to overhear them, Mih stood, then closed the room’s door. “Hearing you say such a thing reminds me you’re just a child,” said the mother.
“Refusing the gift because of yims was wrong. The Yobs can’t hurt Ooches without hurting themselves,” declared Bree.
The mother remained rigid. “You’re too young to realize why yims are important. Maybe knowing the Ooch who brought the gift is going to be locked up will help you grow-up!”
Shaken by what she just heard, Bree sprang from her seat. “Hearing you’re putting Erb in jail makes me feel sick!” loudly said Bree.
“The Three can’t let the food shortage worsen. More ooes will be punished if they don’t return to work,” coldly stated the mother.
“Punishing them will just make things worse!” argued Bree.
The mother folded arms and lifted chin. “Order must be maintained. The ooes agreed to work for a portion of the food they gather. Breaking that agreement disrupts order and eventually creates chaos. If The Three don’t take action, Yobs will suffer!” claimed the mother.
“What about the suffering of the Ooches? questioned Bree.
“The ooes are the cause of whatever misery they have! They’re troublemakers!” railed the mother, leaning forward as she slid palms over the table.
Hearing her mother again name-call brought a surprising outburst from Bree. “Stop calling them ooes! They’re Ooches!” she shouted.
While again straightening her back and folding arms, the mother clenched teeth.
Realizing she had disrespected her mother, Bree apologized. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I should have kept bobbing.”
“What’s this talk of bobbing? . . . It’s something Nib told you after he’d eaten uh-oh berries, isn’t it?” questioned the mother.
“It wasn’t Nib,” answered Bree.
After taking a moment to think, the mother guessed correctly. “You befriended the girl in the orchard you waved to—the one I told you not to befriend. She’s the one who told you that bobbing foolishness, wasn’t she?”
Bree tried to explain. “The Ooches believe watching the bobbers patiently bob is an important way to learn to be nice. That makes sense to me. It’s having a strong oochla and yobla that should matter!” she contended.
“That’s nonsense! How much time did you spend with that girl?” questioned the mother.
“Long enough to know she and I believe no one can ever be over and done with learning to be nice!” answered Bree.
“Rules are what make everyone behave properly, not talk of an oochla and a yobla!” roared the mother.
Bree didn’t back down. “Ways to practice being nice are needed, not rules and punishment!”
Too aggravated to remain seated, Bree’s mother also stood. “That oo girl has turned you against your own kind. And, yes, I’m calling that troublemaker an oo! You’ll soon be saying Yobs should waste half their morning watching bobbers bob!”
Bree continued to take a stand. “Yes, all Yobs should watch and learn from bobbers!”
Believing such a suggestion was crazy, the mother cast more blame. “That oo girl has gotten you to eat uh-oh berries, hasn’t she?”
She doesn’t understand, thought Bree, slouching shoulders. “I’ve never eaten uh-ohes, but because things are making less and less sense in Yob Valley that will likely change!” said a frustrated Bree.
“That sounds like a threat from someone who’s not been nice!” accused the mother, suggesting Bree should feel guilty.
“I know I haven’t been nice,” admitted Bree. “I also know that, if I continue to not be nice, I’ll find liking myself harder and harder. Before long, I’ll be gobbling uh-ohes.”
The mother replied with a firm order. “I forbid you to see that oo girl ever. . . .”
Before the mother completed her demand, the sudden, frightening sound of screeching wheels and mangling wood echoed through Yob Hall. As they yanked shoulders upward, Bree and her mother smothered ears with hands. They were, however, unable to prevent hearing the cries for help that followed.
Shivering in fear, they hurried to the window, where they saw the dreadful cause of their alarm: A tragic three-wup collision had left Yobs wailing in pain.
A few days later, Nib trudged to the doorway of his sister’s bedroom, where he spotted Bree at her desk. “No one has seen an Ooch in five days. It looks like the Ooches have set out to find another valley,” he noted.
“I’m glad The Three never got to lock up Erb, but the Yob adults say there are no other valleys,” replied Bree as she motioned for Nib to enter, then turned her chair to face him.
Nib stepped into the room and sat on Bree’s bed. “The adults can be wrong. I choose to believe the Ooches will find another fertile valley and a better life.”
Tears began flowing from Bree. “I choose to believe those things, too,” she whimpered.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about Erb saying Ooches want to be seen as worthy,” shared Nib.
Bree also had heard something that stuck in her mind. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what an Ooch girl, Rue, helped me better realize: To take good care of our mind, we have to keep reminding ourselves no one learns kindness and fairness once and for all!” she pointed out.
“You’re the one to convince every Yob of that, Bree. . . . Ready for some good news?” asked Nib.
“Very ready,” answered Bree as she wiped tears from cheeks.
“When another picked-on teen and I overheard some adults calling each other a coward because they were too scared to climb for food, she and I agreed to help each other learn to become tree-climbers,” shared Nib.
“That is good news!” said Bree.
“Even better,” continued Nib, “after finding and trying out the scootie straps the Ooches use when climbing, we made it half way up a very tall tree. Because we intend to stick to our pledge to stop eating uh-ohes, we believe we’ll be picking high-up food in a day or two.”
“You’ll do it, Nib. I believe in you!” cheered on Bree.
As many Yobs thought, the Ooches had left their caves in search of a homeland. At first, the Ooches were excited about their quest, but after many days of meandering around rugged, rocky foothills, they were exhausted, hungry and discouraged. Rather than imagining a paradise in which to settle, they were focused on finding the water needed to survive.
“We’ve gone at least 10 times farther from Yob Valley than ever before, only to find piles and piles of rocks,” said Rue’s father.
“Not even a wilting twig has been spotted. We should have stayed put,” said a famished mother who had been giving her share of food to her child.
“We have to try to return to Yob Valley,” creaked a weary fellow as everyone came to a stop.
Aware that rations were low and despair was high, a disheartened Erb stared in the direction they’d been headed as the others found a place to sit. Then, while gazing at the lifeless landscape before him, something surprising caused his heart to race: He spotted an airborne bobber roll into a backward loop about 30 feet ahead. “Did you see it?” he excitedly called out as he thrust a hand straight ahead.
“See what?” asked Rue’s father.
New life surged within Erb. “The bobber! There must be something to pollinate up ahead. We’ve got to keep going!”
Everyone stood, faced the same direction as Erb and searched for a reason to be hopeful. There was, however, no sign of a bobber.
Rue’s father finally broke the silence. “Before long, we’ll all be seeing bobbers that aren’t there. We should rest, then start back.”
Erb wasn’t ready to give up. “I know going back seems like the only reasonable thing to do, but please, everyone, stay here while I plod ahead a bit more. If I’m not back before the sun is overhead, start back without me. I’ll catch up.”
After a long hush, Rue spoke up. “Giving Erb the time he’s asked for makes sense to me.”
Rue’s father briefly discussed what had been proposed with others, then relayed agreement. “OK, Erb, we’ll do as you ask.”
As the others watched him wind around a foothill, then leave their sight, Erb kept a steady pace. Soon approaching an especially high hill, he decided that reaching its peak would allow him to see where the bobber had gone. While clawing his way up the steep slope, a moment of gloom struck. “Maybe I did imagine the bobber,” he fretted.
Then, after lurching to the top, Erb shook raised fists in joy as he gazed down upon a breathtaking vast valley dotted with green trees, blue ponds and beige homes. Realizing what he saw could belong to another group of Yobs, he begged for good fortune out loud. “Please, please don’t be another valley ruled by the Yobs.”
Fixed on the vision below, Erb didn’t notice the woman climbing toward him on his left. When she suddenly popped into view, he jerked backward, then stiffened while staring at a stranger who appeared to be an Ooch.
“Sorry if I startled you,” said the woman as she came to a standstill about 15 feet from Erb.
Erb gulped before introducing himself. “Hello, my name is Erb. I’m with a group of Ooches who’ve traveled far. The others are close by,” he told her.
“Welcome, my name is Troh. I enjoy climbing the foothills . . . I heard you mention Yob rulers,” cautiously noted the woman as she tugged the knee and elbow pads she wore over her hiking outfit.
“Yes, we’re from a valley ruled by the Yobs,” noted Erb.
Deciding Erb could be trusted, Troh let herself enjoy the moment at hand. “You and your group are Ooch Valley’s first visitors! Given you and I look and speak alike, it seems we likely share ancestors who split up and went separate ways.”
Looking toward the ground, Erb fidgeted as he searched for words. “We seek an opportunity to show our oochla makes us worthy of being fellow citizens. Possibly, there are empty foothill caves we might be allowed to occupy,” he timidly mentioned.
Troh grinned. “I only speak for myself, but hearing you note your group’s oochla is most encouraging. My guess is Ooch Valley Ooches will likely see your arrival as a chance to express their oochla. As a result, they’ll likely invite you to live among us in the valley,” said Troh before becoming somber. “Are the Yobs you mentioned the reason your group of Ooches made such a courageous journey?” she asked.
“Yes. The Yobs, who are much larger than Ooches, believe they’re destined to rule over us,” shared Erb.
“Is there a chance the Yobs have followed your group?” probed Troh with concern.
“Given they’re certain they posses the only valley with food and water, they’ve likely concluded we’ve perished on a desolate pile of rocks,” answered Erb.
Relieved, Troh lifted an arm to motion for Erb to lead the way to those traveling with him. “I’m looking forward to escorting all of you to Ooch Valley,” she happily told Erb.
As they began their descent, Erb decided it was best to be honest. “Unfortunately, our struggle for worth has caused some among us to misuse uh-oh berries.”
Troh was understanding. “Though uh-ohes grow here, too, we’ve been able to limit their use. Who knows, though, what would have happened if we, too, had been treated as less than equal by a group like the Yobs.”
A grateful Erb relayed how fortunate he felt. “If I hadn’t seen a bobbing bobber a short while ago, I and the others would have turned back and likely met with doom. Do the Ooches in Ooch Valley study and honor the gentle bobbers?”
“Not as much as we should. . . . Maybe our newfound relatives will help us improve,” suggested Troh.
“I’m sure it’s the newcomers who need such help,” meekly assured Erb.
“The humility I’m hearing tells me otherwise,” said Troh before slipping on a rock and bumping a knee. “Ouch! I wish someone would invent padding worth wearing so that hikers, like me, didn’t have to put up with pesky knee and elbow injuries.”
Erb smiled. “The Ooches you’re about to meet may be able to grant that modest wish,” he replied, guessing the orange sponge-like discovery rejected by the Yobs would soon be appreciated.
1. What did the Yobs and Ooches have in common that caused some from each group to find the uh-ohes too tempting?
2. What important lesson did the Ooches believe the bobbers taught?
3. Why did Yobs call Ooches ooes?
4. What did the Ooches hope would happen when they gave the Yobs their gift?
5. Why did the Yobs turn down the Ooches’ gift?
6. Why did Bree say seeing herself not be nice might cause her to use uh-ohes?
7. Do you think that people on Earth have something like an oochla? Why or why not?