Turtle Island

Raye was born in October of 2015, to an E.M.T. and a surgeon. Growing up, she spent most of her time roaming the halls of a hospital in Baltimore, MD, now called Resident 3. She spent her time making arounds, playing in the community funded greenhouse, visiting with patients, and had a reputation as the hospital fairy, skipping around with a mist bottle, a mix of sanitizer and glitter, offering spritzes of the stuff to hospital personnel, patients, and visitors. Raye's 'Fairy Serum' became so popular that she and her mother set up bins specifically to collect the small empty sanitizer bottles from around the hospital to make hundreds them, helping Raye to understand a bit of repurposing. Word of this special treatment got out and before her parents knew it, corporate collaborative offers were being made to patent and market the idea. Her parents were hesitant with the investors until Raye had a better idea. The bottles would be sold at stations all over the hospital, creating lemonade-stand like booths, and be manned by volunteer patients. It was a success! The money collected allowed for constant flow of supplies, and the idea spread like a wildfire across the other residential areas of the now sectionalized and militantly quarantined country.

One morning, a reporter showed up at the hospital, asking to interview the soon to be six-year-old about her efforts. Raye was summoned cheerfully over the intercom of the ICU where she spent most of her time, and was collected by her father, a tall, and handsome gentleman that most of the staff fawned over. Her father had Hollywood looks, a monk’s disposition, and to top it all off a charismatic wit that could turned anyone's knees to jelly. His chosen partner was anything but glamourous, and rather plain. Raye's mother was small in stature, oddly proportioned, and her laugh was unapologetically sudden and loud. People concluded she might have been a lesbian because of how she looked and carried herself. The women of the emergency room intake didn't like her at all, simply because she seemingly had it all being the wife of 'Doctor Dish' or 'double d' when he was in earshot, a widespread codename within the hospital.

Raye and her father stepped off an elevator onto the ground level and proceeded down the hall. Raye walked with confidence and independently, alongside her father. The sight was something out of a movie with a slow-motion effect. It was simply adorable, inspiring, and heartwarming! As they approached the open waiting room, Raye immediately spotted her inquiring party, slouched in a chair that looked like it would buckle at any moment, the fasteners of the wooden frame tilting with every uncomfortable shift the man made. His single-use face mask smudged with dirt (most likely from touching his face with his visibly dirty hands), was torn on one side, and dangling loosely, exposing a bulbus, greasy nose. Although Raye was not a shy child, the unkempt look of the reporter made her weary. She swung behind her father and skipped to the information desk, using ASL to sign to the hearing-impaired intern turned faculty (who had been teaching her since she was born) for a mask and single use gloves, and a bottle of the Fairy Serum.

Her father addressed the reporter and introduced Raye, who handed him a new mask, and the glittery gift of sanitizer. She stood close to her father, gladly maintaining six feet from the reporter, thinking to herself that one hundred feet wouldn't be sufficient distance to avoid his odor. She didn't judge him for it, she had been around fouler odors, however, his lack of self-maintenance was a choice. They decided to hold the interview in the greenhouse at the back of the hospital and settled in a spot Raye frequented to talk and sing songs to the plants to 'keep them happy!'. The reporter placed a weathered bag, complimentary to his 'ensemble' on the table, retrieving a recording device and placing it on the table before setting the bag back on the concrete foundation. He pressed a red button on the unit, going through disclaimers and permissions for the record. He mentioned that it would only take a few minutes as the segment was meant for a sweep for national news. Then the interview began.

"I have the unique opportunity to speak with Raye, a six-year-old humanitarian, who has started a glittery movement, bringing light to this terrible pandemic!" He started. "Raye, thank you for agreeing to speak with me! Would you be willing to share what you've started here?"

Raye looked at her father and upon receiving a nod, jumped right in.

"I was born in this hospital, and pretty much live here. Mommy and daddy work here, and I'm lucky because I have so many friends, and meet new people every day. They are sick, but mommy and daddy make sure they get better, and I get to talk to them when they feel sad. The hospital started to fill up and everyone was so upset. I tried to be brave, but I cried a lot because other people were crying. Mommy says I can feel what other people feel and that's why it's okay to cry." She paused to reflect, sought her father's comforting gaze, took a moment to gather her thoughts before she continued, "some of the sick people were hurt to move and get sanitizer on their hands, and so I asked for a big container and pressed the top for them. It was too heavy for me, and my arms started to hurt. I was tired after I carried it, so mommy made me a smaller spray bottle to 'mist' my friends’ hands with."

"Helpful. When did you get the idea to add glitter?" The reporter’s tone was indifferent as he blatantly looked at his plastic digital watch. This made her father laugh, in turn, making Raye smile. She straightened up and raised her chin. Her mother did this when she was 'rising above' while keeping a calm demeanor.

"Your time is important to you, so I'll make it quick. We were decorating the kids’ part of the hospital and I got glitter all over myself. I liked how it made my hands look. I showed my mommy and asked if we could put a little 'sparkle' into the hand mist! She said we could put a teenier-tinier bit in. So, we did, and now most of the sick people are shimmering. Now, if you don't have any other questions for me, I need to get back to work." With that she stood up, looked at her father, who had a proud smirk on his face, lifting his arms and placing his palms together in gratitude and asked that she tell his colleagues he would be there momentarily.

Raye made her way back to the ICU, greeting everyone she passed and high fiving the utility personnel. She passed by a staff lounge and saw her mother, who had just begun to rest her eyes. She entered the room and approached her batting her eyelashes on her cheek giving her a 'butterfly kiss'. Her mother smiled, keeping her eyes shut, asked, "how did the interview go?" Raye took a deep breath and slowly sighed, "I know what I want to do when I grow up." Her mother’s eyes opened and became alert. "Really? What's that?" Raye smiled and stared at the CPR instructions on the wall and replied, "I want to be a reporter. A helpful reporter." Her mother knew more information would be revealed over pillow talk tater with her tall drink of water.

"Did daddy ask you to do anything when you came back in?" Her mother asked, resuming her rest. Raye popped upright and scurried out of the room.

Turtle Island

Twenty years later.

Raye followed in her mother’s footsteps and became an E.M.T., interviewing those transported who wanted to share their experience, strength, and hope. She set up her own blog, which had become a local treasure, and advanced the passion project to a daily column for the only source of residential news media available, the Residential News. She followed her morning routine of packing her bag with essentials for the day, preparing her vegan smoothie, watering her plants, talking to her cat about her dreams, and spending time with her higher power. This day would be one she would never forget, and the journey to follow, would lead her directly to her destiny.

When she arrived at the hospital that she was born and raised in, her now elderly hearing-impaired teacher signed that a woman was waiting for her in the lounge, and she looked interesting. Raye was intrigued, signed 'thank you', and made her way to the lounge. Inside she saw a woman scoping the briefing posters, smiling as if they were completely useless.

"Good morning! I'm Raye. I heard you were waiting for me. I hope you didn't have to wait too long." The woman slowly turned, and her smile turned from sarcastic to what Raye would consider admiration.

"You are right on time. I would have been happy to wait all week." She graciously spoke as if Raye was a long-lost prophet, found in the most undesirable place. "I am Lana. I won't take up too much of your time. I am a representative of the safe zone, Turtle Island. Have you ever heard of it?" She asked calmly, her eyes gentle and assured. Raye had indeed heard about Turtle Island. “Well, I came to you today to personally invite you to come for exclusive insider access. Our Peace Leader came across your column in the Residential News and was moved by the efforts you put into place to bring hope to your community. She has proposed to bring you to the island to see exactly what it is that we’re accomplishing for the betterment of the world, and to secure a future, beneficial to all inhabitants. She regrets not being able to come herself. We have just accompanied some new refugees, and it’s imperative that she is present for acclimation. She hopes you understand and hopes that you will accept the invitation.” She explained. Raye was intrigued. She didn’t have any reservations, and simply nodded her head.

“I accept the invite.” She said, folding her hands on her lap. “Tomorrow just happens to be the start of my stay-cation. I think it would be nice to get away. I’ll have my mom watch my cat.” With that they both smiled and had a laugh together.

“Excellent! Thank you for your valuable time! I will collect your address and have a car pick you up. You will be taken to our private airspace and transported from there on a plane. Are you comfortable with those arrangements?” Lana asked, her eyes filled with sincerity.

“That would be fine, thank you.”

Raye and Lana said their goodbyes, and Raye walked back toward the intake desk. She informed them about the conversation. The news spread throughout the hospital, and before she knew it, some nay-sayers were beginning her not to go. Raye reassured them, her parents backing her decision.

The island was once the state of Florida, but after an unprecedented earthquake in 2032, the land was ripped effortlessly in minutes from the Gulf Coast through Perry, all the way across the state just below Jacksonville, sinking the countryside, creating a ten-mile gap. The aftershock pushed the coast of Miami into the Keys. Hundreds of thousands were killed, and countless were found injured. The catastrophe brought something powerful into play; the relief efforts were unbelievable. Resident 10, formerly known as California was scheduled for the biggest disaster along the San Andreas Faultline remained docile.

Many believed the event to be an act of God for the lack of effort to get COVID-19 and it’s multiple variants under control. The southern state was destroyed. Cruise ships, boat owners, and the Coast Guard were all involved with a grand rescue, bringing survivors further North. The chaos and stress of the forced re-settlement yielded more death and destruction. For the next few months, the area was quiet, and the media stopped covering its recovery efforts, making it irrelevant.

A fog began to form across the gap, hiding the gnarled landmass. No one cared to investigate it, until a photographer on a mission to document the remains charted a helicopter, and beyond the fog, discovered what looked to be a massive biodome. The sighting was radioed in, and it was all over the news. Upon its discovery, it was glorified, and explorers sought after it. The land offshore from the fog was then heavily restricted, as many explorers would wreck, and the remains began to wash up to the surrounding beaches. It was then scrutinized as an extension of the Bermuda Triangle.

During evening programming one evening in June of 2023, the station was interrupted with a strange broadcast, the signal was coming from the island. The broadcasted signal was coming from Turtle Island. In the broadcast, a silver emblem in the shape of the island turned and then the historical message was delivered.

::::Attention Resident Nation::::

:::::::::::::::::::In one hour, a fleet of highly armored trucks will be deployed across the nation, picking up anyone seeking shelter and resource. We are coming for all children unaccompanied, or under conservatorship, as well as women. A new, prosperous world awaits you, here in the solace of Turtle Island.::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The transmission ended and the news resumed mid-story.

The media responded immediately, making it out to be a hoax; claiming it to be a community driven by child laborers, governed by a lunatic feminist cult leader. Raye saw the photos but saw no proof of a hostile environment. It was simply an unexplained compound shaped like a turtle, with a large dome and four 'docks' resembling flippers. A narrow bridge with what looked to be a helipad, resembling a turtle head. No one would have noticed children or women gone missing, either, because the Resident areas were constantly patrolled and homeless women and children were run into the wastelands. Those in conservatorships would not have been noticed due to the secrecy of the families involved. Those women and children were never seen, only documented. Men were held to no standard, and had freedom to do what they pleased. As Raye had grown up, she knew plenty of men, and they were wonderful people. Those she saw outside of the hospital on the streets, she knew them to be part of the system, and therefore, lost. There were also women who joined a lower vibration, but were often shot, beaten, or starved to death in the streets. The women of the oppression were like Raye's mother, with no access to the same rights as men.

The following morning, Raye carried on with her normal routine, only today, she had more time for her precious cat. She sat down on her couch, glancing out the window for a car, laughing at her cat who joined her in the watch. A green Tesla pulled up to the curb of the compartment style building. Her cell phone rang. As she answered, the driver stepped out of the car and waved. She informed him that she would be right down. The car ride was pleasant. The driver recommended that she rest on the way to the port and would be happy to answer any questions she had along the way. Raye had none, enjoying the drive through the town, and then past the city limits. Upon arriving, Raye saw that her travel arrangements were beyond belief. A private jet and beautiful skies. She was escorted into the aircraft and welcomed jovially by the flight crew. She began to mingle with the crew, happy to be among such engaging people. The flight crew had her seated immediately for take-off. Raye stared out of the window and began to fall asleep. Upon awakening, the plane had already landed and coasting a small airstrip. The door was opened and the flight crew escorted her out of the plane, informing her that her luggage would be waiting for her in her bungalow.

Raye followed the flight crew to the bottom of an escalator leading up a beautifully lit glass overhang. When she reached the top, she saw a small waiting area, where a woman dressed in a single piece of heavy yellow fabric was waiting for her.

“Raye, I am so glad you could come. Your arrival has been much anticipated.” The woman’s voice was calm yet warm. She smiled and extended her arms, prompting Raye forward into the meeting area. “I am Sarah, the Peace Leader of Turtle Island. I trust your travels were peaceful?”

“Yes, thank you! It was refreshing!” Raye smiled as Sarah placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Please have a seat. I have much to share with you, and fortunately, all the time in the world.” They both sat down, adjusting only slightly, as the chairs began to fix to their body positions.

“That’s incredible!” Raye’s amazement was amusing to Sarah.

“That’s only the beginning. The engineers here have gone to great lengths to ensure comfort for the refugees of the island.” Sarah took a brief pause before looking at Raye directly. “I must admit that your reason for being here is not to simply tour and interview, but instead to assist us with a very important task. Do you remember when you were young, and you assisted your parents in the hospital?” Raye nodded. “Raye, you may be unaware of this, and I am pleased to be the one to tell you. You have a gift. You’re familiar with hospital healing practices, but are you familiar with the gift of spiritual healing?” Raye shook her head, her expression like that of a confused child. “You have the ability to heal others internal ailments, simply by being around them. We have thousands of individuals who come from zones such as yourself, who would be instantly healed upon your presence. Do you believe that?” Raye’s mouth was gaping. This was not the first time she had heard about healers. “If you wouldn’t mind accompanying me on an arial tour of our island, I would love the opportunity to take you to an area where I can prove it to you, by proving it to yourself.” Raye agreed. “Good. Let us begin. Your chair is a hovercraft. Press the button on the arm there, and we will begin. Raye saw a white button on the chair and pressed it. A quiet cover began to cover the chair. It looked like a bubble, and when Raye touched it, it was firm. Raye was pleasantly surprised when she could hear Sarah’s voice within the pod. “Are you ready?” Raye nodded yes, and the pods smoothly glided to a wall, which opened, revealing a paradise. The dome was an optical illusion!

The pods flew off out of the waiting area and glided out offering a 360-degree view of waterfalls, lush landscape, small houses, fields that Sarah identified as hemp fields, and wild animals that Raye thought had gone extinct were abundant and free roaming.

“Am I dreaming?” Raye asked from her pod. Sarah’s voice came through her pod.

“No, you’re wide awake, and this is very real. The way Turtle Island operates for its children. Each person here lives in freedom. We have hemp fields grown year-round attended by generational learned. We make clothes, medicines, building materials, and anything else one could possibly imagine. Each child is given free range to go where they wish, as they are all gifted, like you. They are here to teach us, not the other way around. We are here to protect the voiceless, and end oppression. Raye, you have been called here to be with the newest of the broken. You’re here to fill their hearts and minds with the comfort you so graciously provide.” Raye began to cry.

“My parents, my friends, I cannot leave them!” Raye couldn’t control her tears. The place was a dream. Her dream.

“They are already here. They are waiting for you at our destination. We have been planning for your arrival for a long time. You do not know of the destruction we pulled you from. The place you called home was bombed hours after you were essentially evacuated, but all those you love are safe here. We asked them to remain silent. They understood that you would want to save everyone, but the devastating truth is that your land is filled with deception. I know it is much to take in, but allow me to assure you, you’ve lost nothing in coming here.” Sarah continued. “Ah, here we are.”

The estate was large, surrounded by tropical plants, flowing pools, and a gathering of people were waving to her from the ground, among them, were her parents, her cat in her father’s arms. They looked younger. The pods settled onto the lush green grass and Raye watched as the bubble dissipated from around her. Sarah stood up from the pod chair, a motioned her open hand toward the crowd.

“Welcome home, Raye. Enjoy your life, for it is a special one, and you’ve shown your worthiness to be here, among the lightworkers.”