Liberty,Equality,Fraternity - by Cunien
Please forgive obvious typos and mistakes - I'm not the most observant person.
Warnings: As a series - Mild swearing, not so mild racism and slavery. Also violence and torture, mostly aimed at Jack - Don't worry your pretty little head about it - Jack doesn't.
Chapter 12 -Moonlit Moots
That next day passed as slowly as they always do, when you want them to pass quickly. Does that make sense? I don't care - it's me that's telling this story, right? I see by your face you understand.
So where was I? Yes - the slowly dragging day. That night I had both a meeting with the slaves, and later with Megan, where I would hopefully boast of my masterful plans.
But that was the night, and this was the day. So I worked. I worked as hard as I could and as fast as I could and tried with all of my might to clear my mind and let the time slip by.
But that never works.
So I spent the whole day scheming away.
By evening the work and the thoughts had worn me to the bone, and it was with a heavy, dragging step that I heavily dragged myself back to Sarah and Nathan's house. We sat and ate cold stew, and chatted idly. Almost too idly in fact, because after a while Nathan began to look at me and his wife with suspicious eyes.
Later, when darkness fell, I slipped outside to lay with my stars and sky. Inside, the quiet voices of Nathan and Sarah died down to nothing, but still I lay. I'd begun to worry that Sarah had forgotten about our little rendezvous, when a dark figure slipped between the patterned curtains that served as a door on hot nights such as this.
Sarah asked, looking down at me. She offered a hand to hoist me up, and I studied it for a moment. In the bright moonlight the calluses and scars stood out like markings on a map. It was a hand like my own - used to work, hard and cruel sometimes, but necessary. It was a determined and proud hand, and I didn't feel in the least bit ashamed to take it and let it help me up.
So I stood up and followed Sarah to the church, glancing once behind me, and wondering if that shadow, flickering for a moment in the doorway of the hut was a trick of the light, or my tired mind.
Passing the huts on the way through the village, I saw many a shadowy figure. Some slipped out and joined us, walking behind us silently. Others watched carefully, or whispered to each other from doorways.
The church stood tall and dark and unfamiliar to us all in night light. It's dark shadows stretched out over the hill and pointed towards the sea. Perfect cover for a secret meeting.
Sarah led me to the front doors and motioned for me to sit beside her in a small circle of people. Others could be seen standing restlessly, outside the group, watching but unsure. In the darkness I could see nothing of the Africans' faces - only their eyes. But me - my skin stood out like the moon itself, like a bloody beacon for all to see.
For a while there was silence, and I was too wrapped up in watching them to notice that they were all watching me. Waiting for me to talk, see.
says I, clearing my throat a little too noisily.
Why have you called us here? Someone asks, looking at Sarah this time.
The Pink Man has something to say, she answers.
The Africans turn to me, but I look back at them just as blindly.
A laugh to my left seemed to melt through the dark. I turned to look at a boy, no more than fourteen I'd say.
You are the Pink Man. You were once a white man but the sun made you brown. But not brown like us. Now the sun shines all day and paints you pink, he laughed.
Thankyou very much, I grumbled. That's very flattering and all, you know.We cannot be here long. Talk, snapped a voice from the across the circle. I couldn't make out his face, but a vision of the Skeleton Man wafted into my mind like a chilly wind. I'm sure this was him. The other Africans stopped their quiet laughing and looked expectantly between the two of us.
says I. So...well...Nathan told me once that there were thousands of your people here. I looked at Sarah, who nodded encouragingly.
And only a hundred or so of Gabriel and his bastards. And with barely a brain between them either.So here we are, I said, relishing the words and feeling that now familiar revolutionary flame crackling away inside me, outnumbering them ten to one.But they have many weapons, said someone.
agreed another, and we have nothing but our hands.But there you have it! I said, jumping to my feet in excitement. Think what you've done with your hands already - all that cane you've harvested!But we have scythes, tools.Exactly again! Anything can be made into a weapon, believe me!Have we forgotten Dawit? called a voice - the voice of the one I had an inkling was the Skeleton Man.
I stopped and sat down, feeling like the breath had been knocked right out of my lungs.
No. I've not forgotten him, I said, so quietly I thought they might not have heard me.
Yes, we have many tools that can be used as weapons, but if it were as easy as that, do you not think we might have tried it long before you came, Pirate? We have been suffering here as slaves for many years. Longer than you could possibly survive in this place.I know - I said.
You saw what happened to Dawit. These men have dark souls. They feel no pity, no compassion. No guilt. They do not care how many lives they take. They would kill our children, our babies, without a single thought. We have much to lose, and we stand on a knife's edge.I know, I said again, But if I can help...I think he can.
We turned then, and looked at Sarah, head held high in the moonlight.
Dawit was killed by the Master and his men, she spat at the ground in hatred. Not Jack. We cannot live like this, like animals. We are people. We are Olinka. We are Mbole and Yele and Lengola, and our children? Our babies you speak of? We are teaching them to be slaves, to have no pride. We are teaching them that we are lower people, beneath our Masters and fit only to work. We are better than this! And we cannot live like this. If we do not try now, then when?If we can surprise the guards somehow. Make them look the other way and suspect nothing..Ah, see - you want a distraction. And Jack Sparrow has always been rather good at those, I said, studying my nails.
Gabriel hates me, I continued, Can't fathom why, myself. But my point is, he won't miss a chance for a good gloat and whatnot. All you have to do is wait for my signal. Then let loose all hell.
The Africans looked at each other, muttering in a language I couldn't understand.
I'll take care of Gabriel, and you deal with the guards. Do we have an accord? I prompted, after a while.
What kind of signal do we watch for? The Skeleton Man asked.
Oh - you'll know it when you see it. It'll be big.
Later, I sat outside the hut, in my old familiar spot, and looked at the sea. I didn't doubt for a moment that Megan could resist my allure. I knew she'd be there, and sure enough, without a sound a figure emerged from the darkness and sat beside me.
she said. Are your great plans afoot?Afoot my darling. So very afoot. Almost aleg, in fact.
She giggled a little, but not high pitched and annoying like the girls in Tortuga. No, this was like rum, slipping down your throat so easily and warming you from the inside out. It was like the sun that peeks out between the clouds and shines through your sails like golden honey.
And for moment then I felt like the king of the world.
So do I get to know of these plans?
I thought for a moment. I said, slinging an arm around her, and smiling a little as she rested there instead of pulling away. She fitted so neatly in the crook of my arm - it felt like belonging.
I said again. It's best you don't. All you need to know is that we'll be out of this place soon. Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your aunt. Like that. I snapped my fingers. You, me, the slaves - all except Gabriel and his scum. she said. Seeing is believing. But for what it's worth - thankyou.It's worth a lot, love.
We sat in silence and looked out at the moonlight glittering on the sea. And I thought, this is heaven. All I needed was some rum, and a ship. And my freedom of course. But apart from that, it was paradise itself.
And just like that, the slight breeze that had been tickling behind our necks, blowing from the other side of the island since I'd gotten here, turned.
Just like that. It turned. It swivelled round and blew in our faces, smelling of salt and sails and water.
It blew in from the sea.
Something was stirring inside me - something was coming.
We looked at the sea as though watching for something.
TBC...