The Other Side of Tomorrow : Book Three: Trois / Future Promise

By Bevin Sinclair Turnbull

The saga of Johnu Benin and his family continues
(circa 2052-2096) from THE OTHER SIDE OF
TOMORROW, Books I & ll.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479712656

Bevin Sinclair Turnbull

The Author-- Composer, Pianist, Educator, native New Yorker, worked and studied with trumpeter, Dr. Donald Byrd. While at the Juilliard School and Lehman College, he recorded on Strata East and Nilva labels. He earned a B.A. in Education at Howard, later a Master’s degree from the State University of Pennsylvania and has begun a doctoral program at the University of Phoenix. He appeared at the Village Gate, broadcast live on WRVR-FM. His group--TRIAD appeared at NY clubs, ie. Mikell’s, Eric and Sweetwater’s. They opened at The Beacon Theater for Al Green; Trenton’s War Memorial Theater for Pieces of a Dream; did a seven-week Japanese tour. Bevin produced his first CD, BEVIN:NOW on TURN-TAY-BULL ENTERPRISES label in 1989; later--eight albums, including O.S.T. SOUNDTRACK on Cdbaby.com. Bevin worked with violinist Noel Pointer; flautist, Bobbi Humphrey; with Ralph Mac Donald; arranged/performed film and theater music for Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee; performed for Bill Cosby at the HUNDREDTH YEAR OF JELLO celebration. Bevin’s ballet -- TARA’S FIRST CHRISTMAS was performed at The Plaza Hotel, Manhattan. Currently, he is producing in his digital studio--TARAH/SARAH PRODUCTIONS. Bevin’s first novels--THE OTHER SIDE OF TOMORROW: Books 1-3 --he hopes to make into a screenplay(3) and compose the score. Artistic/Executive Director of BRONX RENAISSANCE COMMUNITY THEATER-- innovative, intergenerational not-for-profit - -Bevin’s engaged in school, community center; church, gigs, teaching privately-- piano, drums, violin, trumpet- expanding his catalog containing hundreds of pieces in various genres.

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Copyright © 2012 by Bevin Sinclair Turnbull.

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Contents

PART ONE

Prolog

Chapter One: Johnu Benin Iii

Chapter Two: Beyond Beyonce

Chapter Three: Niqui Consuela Daily-Benin

Chapter Four: Twenty Twenty Vision:: War On Ignorance

Chapter Five: What Are You Worth?

Chapter Six: Actual Presence

Chapter Seven: Sermon On The Moon

Chapter Eight: Just Browsing

Chapter Nine: Incarceration

Chapter Ten: Back Down To Earth

Chapter Eleven: The Cemetarium

Chapter Twelve: Nairobi Debates

Chapter Thirteen: Cabo San Lucas, Mexico

PART TWO

T I M E L I N E

Chapter Fourteen: Lecture/Concert Circuit

Chapter Fifteen: Kristian Romano

Chapter Sixteen: Nightdreamer

Chapter Seventeen: Prophetic Promise

Chapter Eighteen: London

Chapter Nineteen: Mtume: Eye Of The Beholder

Chapter Twenty: Creator’s Master Plan

Chapter Twenty-One: The Trial

Chapter Twenty-Two: Catherine Benin’s Diary

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Trial Continues

Chapter Twenty-Four: Crescent Earth

Chapter Twenty-Five: Children Of The Twenty-Second Century

Glossary

Appendix 1

Appendix 2

At the time of my completing the writing of this third novel, my dear aunt, Mrs. Jean Ann Piper Rock is struggling for her life. This book is dedicated to her.

PART ONE

PROLOG

September, 2052

The Warp Shuttle from Jupiter’s moon, Europa, is about three hours late. I’m standing on this floating platform that keeps vibrating annoyingly every time the Jet Pack Police zoom by. I told my mom that I would be on time for her service. She has been preparing this sermon for weeks. I know she wants me there from her very first words, but It looks as though I’m going to have to view her opening lines by TELEPATH. Yes, that’s the best way.

It seems that ever since I returned from The United States of Africa, things here have changed drastically. With so many Americans migrating to space colonies on the moon and Mars, the populations here seem so different from what I remember back when Dad was alive. Everyone is so occupied with leisure that complacency, and even ennui has set in. Dad used to say that sometimes people can be too happy for their own good. Ironic.

Back in the U.S.A.—of Africa that is—there is much more productive activity to be excited about. The common man and woman are rising up, sort of like in America during the first part of the 20th Century. There’s a buzz in the air. Now Africa is leading many world markets, finally having gained control of her superabundant natural resources and having united her diverse people under one flag.

Anyway, it’s great to be back in the land of my birth, on the planet of my birth. This place is where my dad established himself as a powerful cultural force, and Mom has built her worldwide ministry. I’m proud of my American roots, but even more proud of how the people of this planet have practically abandoned war as a means of trying to solve problems. Utterly remarkable turnabout!

I closed my eyes and mentally switched on the Telepath just in time to catch Mom’s opening remarks:

The days of strife against one another are over. We have ushered in an era of peace and tranquillity. How have we accomplished this over the past two decades—only a moment in God’s time? Through FORGIVENESS and COMPASSION. We realized sometime during the 2030’s that if we continued along the path we were taking and had been taking, particularly since the 20th Century, we would surely destroy one another and this wonderful earth of ours . . .

Mom went on in her beautifully french-tinged accent, looking and sounding so vital at eighty-three years of age. Now as trim as she was back in the days when she first met my dad, Johnu Benin ll, she has matured spiritually to the point where she can help millions of others fight whatever demons plague them spiritually. She often quotes Dad and Grandma Catherine too, making sure that Dad’s music is played by the best musicians on earth and beyond at every service. I look forward to joining them today on my flute, whenever that damn Warp Shuttle finally gets here with my clothes and instruments. It’s over three hours late!

The Interview (from a network transcript earlier that week)

Solar Systemwide Known-Female Commentator: So Io, welcome to our program. We appreciate your making it here amidst the heavy travel schedule you keep. Let me begin by asking you how you find the energy at around 60 years of age to accomplish all the things you do in a day?

Io: Well, eating properly—my vegetarian diet—and making time to exercise—mostly yoga and tennis—all help me keep my energy level up. Of course, loving what I do—that certainly helps a lot too.

Commentator: You are known to millions of our viewers as a true Renaissance woman—a virtuoso flautist, singer, composer, best-selling author, educator, diplomat, environmental activist, producer . . . How do you do all of these so effectively? What’s your secret?

Io: Time is our life’s capital. If we don’t waste it, we find that we have sufficient time to pursue many interests. It also helps to be organized.

Commentator: Speaking of being organized, your mom has quite a huge ministry; your dad became phenomenally successful in his later years. I’m sure they both influenced your own remarkable career.

Io: Sure. I think I get my determination from Mom and my creative ability from my dad. My professors at Yale guided me about the whole genetic thing; how we can make the most of the genes we are given. I guess I have been well blessed genetically and otherwise.

Commentator: Allow me to be totally frank with you. It is no secret that your mom spent a few years in prison. Our audience is curious to know . . .

Io (interrupts): To know what? That I had a hard life; that being black was . . . No, In fact, I was well cared for growing up. Yes, Mom made errors in judgment—as we all do—and she had to atone for them. But by then, I was on my own. While she was away, she changed her outlook and her ways. An epiphany.

Commentator: What do you mean, epiphany?

Io: Just what the word implies. You see, she exorcised her demons, so to speak. She has internalized what Christ was talking about. Next question, please.

Commentator: Okay . . . ah . . . ah I see on your calendar that you’re doing a concert of Johnu Benin’s Greatest.

Io: Yes, my dad always did special performances around the winter and summer solstices. Although he did not necessarily subscribe to astrology and stuff like that, he was finely attuned to nature and the marvels of our universe (tears well up). Shortly after I received my Ph.D. from Yale, Dad gave a grand performance at Lincoln Center of Galileo Park Revisited. It was that June. The solstice. In my honor.

Commentator: We can see that this is obviously quite an emotional subject for you. Let’s break for a commercial then talk about you, Io, a famous personality in her own right. We’ll be back after this . . .

Commentator (after the break): Why did you choose the Iranian nuclear disaster as the subject of your new moviebook?

Io: Because it was the single most horrific man/woman-made disaster of the 21st Century. Millions of people across the middle east lost their lives and cities; millions are still affected by it, over twenty-five years later. I wanted to illustrate in detail what can happen when people aim so much will and energy toward destructive intentions. I wanted to show how it backfired, literally, getting out of hand and accidentally yielding God-awful results.

On the other hand, I believe that the nuclear accident led human kind toward the peace we finally have enjoyed since the 2030’s. Imagine, through the utmost devastation and horror, Muslims, Christians and Jews had no choice but to join together cleaning up the Iranian mess. You can’t make this stuff up, folks.

Commentator: Wow! on another subject, your Pulitzer Prize-winning Concerto for Flute and Piano (Opus 777) will be performed at the International Lunar Colony next June, at the solstice, of course. When you and your dad composed this piece, did you have any idea that it would receive such universal recognition?

Io: Apart from the time of most of my teen years when we were separated, Dad and I had been composing since I was about three. Then by the time we wrote the concerto, Dad was already pretty famous. So, I had confidence that it would go far. It did. The allegro and adagio sections were played by the Systemwide Orchestra at the opening ceremonies on Jupiter’s moon, Europa. I’d say it went pretty far, huh? I really, really miss that man. (Huge tears well up in Io’s eyes again) . . . Can we . . . (sobs) . . . stop now, please?

Fade to black. Commercial.

I arrived at Mom’s service just in time to hear her closing. Now send us out into the world to do good, be kind, and peaceful at heart. Amen. Then the ensemble played and sang The Patience of Job, by Johnu Benin, of course. I recognized several of Dad’s students, now in their forties, playing and singing soulfully.

It has been many years since Mom moved from Pennsylvania to, of all places on earth, the Bronx. She still keeps the Benin name and heads one of the language learning centers within the Benin Educational Complex (BEC). She teaches french there.

The house where Dad lived most of his first 70 years is no longer standing (on its foundation), but every tree on that tree-lined block must still be there, including the tallest oak tree in the area is still standing in what was once our backyard. In fact, shortly after the demolition of the Eden Projects across the street from the house, Congress voted to declare the grounds where the Benin home once stood, a national landmark. Later that year practically the entire BEC was air lifted into place in prefab modular parts, one gorgeous building at a time.

By 2040 The Bronx Renaissance Community Theater Building, hovering 8 feet off the ground, was set in its place, along with hovering laboratories, observatories, greenhouses and a mostly underground tectonic community field power station. Presto, A-la-ka-zam, in one year the whole North East Bronx was transformed. Soon there would follow a great social transformation too. A true Renaissance.

Chapter One

JOHNU BENIN III

So, this story actually begins the day that Johnu Benin was born again. Not in the way you might think. Let’s say that even though I never had a son and I’m Dad’s only child; that Johnu did not have a brother, yet Johnu llI was born. You see, Dad knew that he would one day expire, he had a team of brilliant scientists clone some of his cells. The first attempts did not succeed, so those genetic engineers almost gave up after months of tireless work. Then on December 7, 2038 Johnu llI was incarnated in vitro. I was forty-four at the time with one eight-year-old daughter, Cleopatra. We call her Patra for short.

Ironically, through most of his young life, Johnu llI believed that I was his mother. We did all the things that Dad used to do with me when I was young. The parks, Yankee games, ice skating, playing tennis, biking, hiking, horseback riding, you name it. Deep inside I knew and feared the day would come when I’d have to tell Johnu Benin lll that I was not his mother; that he was actually a genetic replica of . . . himself. Tell me, how does one explain that to anyone?

Our secret was out of the bag when Johnu llI, then eight years of age, discovered a cache of thousands of photos and videos of, well . . . himself at various ages. He came to me inquisitively. "Who is the boy in these retro pictures. He looks just like me, but everything in the background is so weird and retro. We don’t use cameras anymore to capture images. And who are these people around me in this one (points)?"

Well that’s your Uncle Pete, and your Aunt Bertha; your Aunt Jean and Cousin Linda; that’s Vee and Uncle Wilfred, Great Grandma Sarah, Grandma Catherine, and on and on. He was totally confused after a while. I had no choice except to tell him and explain. Now that wasn’t easy, but I did it.

Thinking ahead with Mom’s wise advice, I had always had him call me Io, not Mom. Kids at school teased him, saying that his mother’s name was Ten, whenever they saw my name written. I never called him Johnu either. I called him Trois. Trois Benin. At each stage he looked exactly like my dad. Exactly, except for the teeth, which I made sure were orthodontically perfect.

It is uncanny how Trois learned so easily to play the piano, trumpet, and drums. He was composing at 4 years old. He and I played duets and created songs. Just like Johnu lI, Trois does not sing all that well, but certainly gets a melodic point across from his fertile composer’s imagination. In other words, he can carry a tune but not nearly as well as I can.

At Yale, one of my favorite classes was Epigenetics. How are human traits really passed from one generation to the next? What impact does a parent’s experience and environment play? I wondered about these things greatly and wrote my second Master’s thesis on the subject. More than half way through the Twenty-first century there have been relatively few successful human clones. My dad/son is one of them.

Chapter Two

BEYOND BEYONCE

Beyonce Knowle’s 70th birthday was celebrated last week. I was invited but respectfully declined. Certainly, she has done great humanitarian acts of kindness, but I mention her because of where things have gone in popular culture. What she was doing back in the early part of this century is quite innocent and naive compared to stage acts today.

After Beyonce’s party, the after party show began at 1:00 AM. It starred the latest teen rage group called GANG RAPE. They performed their recent hit songs, including Just Take It From Me. Being the daughter of Johnu and Ketous Benin, I would not be caught at such a scene. First of all, we do have our family reputation to protect, plus I’m too old for that kind of thing. I really don’t understand stuff like that. Kids say I’m much too retro, but personally, I find it sick.

I read the MTV review through my multidimensional teleglasses (eye-pod:

Translunar and earth sensation, GANG RAPE appeared at producer, Beyonce’s after party on Saturday. They were simply sensational! Singrapper, Little Jane ran out, synthguitar in hand, completely nude and laid down on a revolving bed, legs spread from here to yonder screaming the provocative lyrics into a dildo microphone. When she got to the chorus, the rest of the band appeared, wearing only multicolored space helmets and pogo boots, bouncing about the floating stage ship.

One by one, each member, including the female backgrounders performed every kind of oral, genital and anal sex with Little Jane who undulated, flexed and went into a flurry of orgasmic gyrations. This was only the opening song. X-ray close ups of every of penetration pulsated to the rhythm and flashed hypnotically on the multidimensional screens surrounding the audience of about 30,000 screaming teenagers and adults.