A tale of the Black Freighter
By Shaman
I can ill imagine if you’ve experienced awakening at the smell of dead carcasses but it begs to wonder how we were ever capable of surrendering awareness to slumber. We fear the lack of fresh air, food and water would be the cause of this. Not to mention that the enduring heat and humidity do not lend a helping hand. The maximum amount of strength we can gather is close to none and yet… God’s will is for us to awake… every morning, leaving us to experience what Fate has preordained.
Every time we see the daylight, peeking through the cracks of the floor above us, memories hit us like the weight of a mountain, of the days passed and how became of what is to be our lives. Having nothing to cling to but our chains and the sacs made of wool used to cover our heads it is no mystery how clearly we are able to recollect past events as if we were still a part of them. Remembering the warmth of the sun at his highest, glaring down on our dark skin, making the breeze seem cooler than it should be in the never ending fields of our homeland, brings a much more powerful perception of the word “freedom”. No matter how long it’s been, I can still see the wind going through the fields, making it seem like it was alive and moving like a lion’s mane floating in the opposite direction than the king’s prey. The memory of the perfume that the trees sprinkled on the gusts of wind could almost bring a smile to my face if the stench of the rotting corpses beside me didn’t overwhelm it. The sound of the flies circling the carcasses never hindered our capacity to delve into our memories since we had plenty of them back home… but the stench brings us back… it always brings us back.
The light that was oozing out of the cracks at a very specific time of day made me notice how darker the bite marks I had left on my neighbor’s calf had become. I fear the metallic taste of blood pales before the need of survival and the hunger that forever haunts us. The blood had dried and the muscle had stiffened. I had already eaten a fair amount of it since my neighbor’s passing however the rest had become soiled. He hadn’t surrendered to his hunger but never had a chance against the long sleep. The stubborn ones always pass first but thank heavens for them for the rest of us would cease to exist. We remain forever silent in respect for their gift of life. After them, all that are left are the survivors. Brother for brother, we never go against one another. We wait… for one to make the sacrifice… to take the decision… to never again awaken. Alas, I am the last. I fear the only way out of here, wherever I am, is through my dreams yet my gut prevents me from giving out. It appears to be convinced that there would still be some hope left. Commotion is heard above making me lose my trail of thought however the chamber holding us captive makes the noise very muffled. The rumbling up top even makes the floor vibrate slightly but the sea seems very calm and the sun seems to shine as brightly as ever. The sun however, no longer creeps through the cracks as the afternoon is ripening. An abrupt silence makes me tilt my head upwards as it has never happened before. But as the silence persists making me rest my head back down, the stench brings me back… back to my trail of thought. How I would give my very life for a breath of fresh air, for a drink of pure water, for a bite of a sweet and juicy fruit…
We could always tell when the dead of night reared her head because the heat that the sun embedded into the wood fled from the fibers. And the moon made the freshness of the depths rise above the waters. I remember now how we could ever fall from our awareness beyond the stench of rot to the sweet bliss of reverie. The subtle freshness arisen made the stench less noticeable and the temperature more bearable so we could surrender the little amount of will we held onto to retain life… or whatever was left of it. As my eyes closed and my breath deepened, a tumbling noise was heard getting louder and louder near the entrance of our chamber. As the noise got even louder, I slowly opened my eyes and looked towards the entrance. God knows I’d love to have the strength to be startled but all I can do is look and wait for these seconds that seem to last for hours to be over. Crashing through the door and ending his tumble at my feet is what appears to be one of my captors. A very heavy, very fat, middle aged white man laying in front of me seemingly dead. I remain still as I am sure one of his shipmates would come for him eventually. But the more I wait, the more I realize just how eerie this silence is. No voices, no movement, nothing can be heard. As I look at the forced upon entrance, I notice that the light that is shed in this chamber through the doorway is cool and subtle. It appears to be emanating from the moon itself as of sole source of light this night. No torches, no fires, nothing is lit or appears to be from my point of view. Never have I ever felt so alone. No one is there to rescue me yet no one is here to keep me captive either.
After what seemed to be an eternity, I realized that nothing had moved, not even the fat man that landed in front of me. Even the angle of the moon’s light seems to have remained still. Given the fact that I am still human despite the ghastly treatment I have been given, curiosity had gotten the better of me. As I made an effort to slowly approach my new neighbor, my sensitive eyes had adjusted to the subtle yet at the same time intense lighting coming from the staircase leading down from the main deck to our chamber. Closing in on his face, I could recall seeing him in the past… yes I remember now… he is… the very person that captured me… pretending to be a nice person… and then hitting me from behind. Our tribe had encountered white men before them that at least had some decency but him… he is vile beyond measure. I remember more… awakening to the sight of him… raping… my wife… she was… pregnant, with our first… I tried to stop him but… I was already in these… chains. The sac… the bag I hold in my hands… it was put on my head… while that bastard was having his way. I couldn’t see… all I could hear was her screaming… which appeared to end… with gargling sounds… probably caused by her own blood… after her throat getting cut. Before I could even scream for my love, I was hit again… and awoke in this… chamber. Could it be? Could this be what my gut had tried to warn me of? Could it be that…I would once again experience a breath of fresh air, a drink of pure water, a bite of a sweet and juicy fruit… yes a fruit… a fruit is juicy… and sweet. But revenge… revenge is even sweeter. Looking ahead at the entrance, finding no one to come after this bounty, I took a risk… what else did I have to lose? I sunk my teeth in his neck and ripped out his throat! Awakening in panic from the excruciating pain, not knowing what was happening, he tried to push me away but… to my surprise, he had drank to much… to much to master his movements… to much to even roll over. Trying to scream… all we could hear is him gargling… gargling on his own blood… dying from suffocation and loss of blood. The hunger had caught up from tasting his flesh. Although he was dirty, his flesh was fat and juicy and tender compared to my brethren. The hunger hurts so I have no choice but to obey it. So without hesitation, I enjoyed the feast that was provided while his right leg still jerked about.
Having drank nothing but blood in the last while, my thirst had never truly vanished. But it would appear as if Fate itself had smiled at me on this night as I notice my meal still crisping onto his bottle like it was his most treasured possession. “A treasure for a treasure” sounds like poetry to my ears. His dead and crisped hand never letting go of the bottle, I had struggled with his heavy arm before I bit off his thumb. Acquiring the bottle and letting his heavy arm drop to the floor, a faint tinkering was heard on the other side of his mass. Mounting over his body and sliding my hand every which way, the tip of my fingers reached an object that tinkers when touched. As I stretch out in that direction, I grabbed the object I sought after and bringing it closer to my eyes, I noticed it was a set of keys. Quickly I searched my chains to find if by some miracle they were meant to be unlocked by these. Having found the keyholes around my wrists and ankles, I tried every key on the ring with much success!!! One was meant for my wrists and another for my ankles. Oh how it seamed too good to be true… after all this time… after all that had happened. Freeing myself from my chains, the sheer joy of loosing this weight and finally being able to move around, unbound, was enough to finally give me hope that I could be able to eventually escape this retched ship and her crew! But the moment was too much to bear, so I sat and marveled at my newfound freedom, drinking whatever was left of whatever this oaf endeared. It seemed like the logical choice to rest and gather strength as I neglected to know what else Fate had in store.
After having finished the quarter bottle that my captor so graciously provided me, I had gotten bored of waiting and listening to nothingness. I had decided to go ahead and tried to stand and walk to the breached door of my chamber. Not realizing how potent the liquid I had drank was until trying to stand, getting to the door and walking up the stairs would provide quite a challenge. Never the less, the opportunity of freedom I was apparently given was motivation enough for me to steady myself and proceed cautiously upstairs. Putting a foot in front of the other, balancing myself with my arms, I was in awe at finding that the silence was still present and even the old wood under my very feet couldn’t provide an ounce of noise. Had it not been for the everlasting stench around me, I’d swear I was dreaming. The stairs themselves provided an amount of silence that would have made a giant rock jealous. Nearing the top of the stairs, I noticed that nothing on the main deck appeared to be lit. There were no shadows dancing about, no crackling sound made by torches as there didn’t even appear to have any movement at all what so ever. Surely, with the profoundness of the silence around me, my hunter ears would have heard someone breathing from far away. Yet nothing, not even a slight breeze appeared to occupy the air around me. The sheer mass this monumental ship had could never be so silent. I was alone… the ship was deserted. Darkness itself seemed to desert the ship as the moon’s rays were shining upon me. I walked on the deck to the side of the ship seeing nothing but the never ending sea. I could never swim to shore since I didn’t have the strength nor did I know where I was. Never in a million years could I pilot such a ship. The very little hope I had gained seemed limited to this very ship. Unless someone would find me, and even so, the chances that these “people” would be more courteous than my captors would appear very slim indeed. And so I sighed and waited to hear what opinion my gut would have on the matter.
As I turned my head to the other side of the ship, to my astonishment a second ship appeared before my eyes as if it was there the whole while but never did I notice it’s presence before. A cool breeze started to come from the direction of the ship making the tattered rags the ship had for sails, move about in an eerie manner as if they were alive and clinging to they’re yard for dear life, dangling by mere threads. The calm breeze whistling through the bow’s cracks and wholes generated a faint sound that seemed similar to a bamboo flute. The wood appeared to be darkened and deteriorated as if the ship had sunk ages ago and by some miracle resurfaced and dried to the ocean winds. The ship is in no condition to be floating let alone navigate in these waters. My gut seems terrified at the sight of this ship and yet… I can’t explain it. The movement of the sails dancing at the sound of the breeze is comforting. As if it was appeasing me and calling to me. As I approach the ship, my gut won’t seem to agree with me yet the ship is deserted. Just as the one I’ve been a captive of for the longest time. As I turn my head to the right, I see a plank that appears to be tied to each ship as a means to transfer the crew from one ship to the other but no one is aboard the other ship and aside from the sound the breeze makes, it is as silent as the one I’m standing on. And so I walk slowly to the plank as my strength doesn’t plan to make her presence felt much more than this. Raising myself up with the help of the railing to step over the side of the ship, I suddenly feel pain in my stomach as if my gut really didn’t approve of my intentions. But the coast was clear and both ships were as secure as they would ever be. And so I decided to let my self down from the railing and put both feet on the plank. I braced my toes for impact but right before touching the plank the whole ship vanished into thin air, making me fall to the water!!! Struggling for air all I could notice were my limbs desperately and insignificantly attempt to make me swim! Yet as I was sinking, all I could do is gargle… gargle for air.
Never would I have thought of such a thing possible. Lacking the strength needed to swim, I looked up to notice that there was nothing on top of me, none of the ships appeared. All there was was the flickering reflection of the moon fading away. As I neared the bottom of the ocean, and could hardly see the light from above I relaxed my neck muscles and let my head down. Opening my eyes to try and see what awaited me at the bottom, I could see a darkness getting bigger as I approached. The darkness had a shape which appeared clearer as I neared it. It seemed to reach for me as if it wanted to engulf me whole. It was… it was… the ship. The very ship which earlier called upon me was waiting in the depths patiently, beckoning me to seek it… to join it… forever… and ever.
T'is "The Shaman's" tale!
Rock "The Shaman" Briand