It has never been this silent in the mountains of Azalia, it was as if a thief had come in the night. They were indeed on the horizon disguised among the tribe. They were the workers of the white tigers of the west who had started transporting gorillas from the south. They stole from all over the continent, along with gold and precious diamonds came precious human commodities whose dark bodies glistened spectacularly in the Caribbean sun.
They came on the first boat to the west. It was one of those that could be easily populated by small critters as themselves. His mother was the size of a human hand, following her were the babies that were born that very morning. Her eldest Anansi led the family unto the wooden steps of the giant coffin. It was a trip of curiosity, they saw Africans disappearing by the day, with no explanation family and friends turned on each other, a war broke out over gold and many were traded for the commodity. The trickster and his family saw the opportunities for themselves, maybe there was something out there more desirable. They told their friends and family and they all felt it was a good idea to leave this side of the world in chase of another. They felt as if Africa was dying. Seven ships arrived on the shores of Nigeria in 1526 which accommodated the latest generation that spanned four hundred million years. This first batch left with these ships and would send for the rest when they settled in the new world. The darkness of the morning disguised their frames. Being seen by the captives was the least of their worries as noise meant certain death.
This was a joy for the trickster who took the opportunity to imitate the figure of a well to do business man dressed in a plaid suit and mouth supporting a slanted cigarette. He observed the bodies populating the floor of the vessel, all in chains from the palm of their hands to the ankles of their feet. All men, seemingly capable and stripped of clothing. Even a dog would pity their state. But he wasn't sad by what he saw because his eyes were searching, and when he found what they were looking for he paused. A young man returned his steer with menace, so menacing that he almost cracked a smile. He walked closer to the boy lying before, one of his eight legs attached to the wall hoisting his body up and over the ones below him. His hand formed into a claw small enough to fit the size of the keyhole. In one motion the young man was released. There was no smiling between the two, there was no time, the job had to be done. The ship had already caught wind. Two figures came around to inspect the cargo. One with a wip snuggled between his pant pocket and crotch, the other, accompanied by a less fashionable cutlass. Ansansi was back to his original form so as to not startle the men. The boy was prostrate as if back in bondage. The men ambled closer, each choosing a side of the semi circle of bodies to inspect. Chains rattled in expectation as the men neared almost to the point of breathing directly into the faces of their latest catch. All afraid except one who had the word Kunta burnt across his breast. His magnetic eyes drew his assailant closer. He was met with the same menace that faced Anansi. It was a look that can cause any man to lose his vigor. This type of resolve had to be beaten out of the guerrillas and with this realization the man recoiled to his wip preparing to land his blow but his decision to strike was unmatched as two veiny thumbs were swiftly pressed against neck. He quietly resigned to the floor as Kunta began his assent. He glanced toward the eight legged critter resting delicately on the rope that held shut the ships opening, they were as thick as a shoulder. The creature spoke to his mind, telling him everything he needed to do. The second assailant was on the other side of the wooden wall that blocked the captures from viewing those opposing their position. And name was called,
"Mc Pierre?"
No answer from the fallen assailant on the opposite side of the wall. He turned abruptly in search of a response from his colleague but was met with the squishing sound of his own rusted blade sinking into his lower intestines. His mouth was anxiously covered to avoid alarm from the men at the top harnessing the wind which steered the ship. It was brought to Anansi's knowledge that the voyage would take ten weeks so they would have to bide their time until the fifth week when they would be half way through their journey. They did not know what to expect from the new world but they knew that they would not arrive there in chains.
The following weeks would be spent laying down the plans to take over the ship. They had to first understand the route, also the mechanisms of the ship. Anansi being an astute learner, simply had to observe the men as they moved around to internalize all their movements and actions. He then returned to the lower cabins in his insect state to teach the captives. In each of the five weeks, at least four men were killed. Suspicions and daily routines led to further investigation and this is when they would be met with their death by the hands of Kunta whose mind was being guided by Anansi. Each kill was a step closer to fulfilling the overall plot. They had to be swift and lethal, there was no time for emotions or second guessing for their assailants refused to waste a single breath before throwing a captive overboard if anything was awry. The third kill left stains and bruises as a reward for his refusal to not go down without a squabble. There were seventeen men on the vessel, his suspicions led him to believe that at least one of his companions was missing. Deck workers were not allowed in the cabin unless the slaves had to be inspected. It was Charles Mc Pierre's turn the week prior. Those allowed into the cabin on a daily basis never communicated with those above, but something was amiss and he knew they were hiding it. Three body bags were offloaded into the sea and his intuition told him that not all three were slaves. Perched upon the cross which held ropes that anchored cloth bellowing in the wind his eyes fixated on the slightly tilted trap door which led to the underbelly of the ship. A foul stench has been emanating from it for some days now. It alerted the sharks around the ship's base as they awaited the next carcass. He could not hold it in any longer, it had to be done. Gripping the edge of the platform he pushed his frame upwards. A dingy handkerchief hung invitingly from his right hand which was tempted to grip. He placed the cloth over the rope which led to the floor of the deck and slid all the way down. Without causing a scene he entered the cabin, walking slowly while passing his hands along the wooden walls. He followed his nose in search of the stench that has been igniting his soul for the past days. The pathway stole his gaze revealing the natural underbelly artwork of the deck above that slightly let shadows in. Sometimes they startled him frozen in the fear that somehow he might be seen, but for now it was all in his mind. His eyes lurked toward every door that was closed except one that revealed a mirror and wardroom. The mirror's reflection helped in revealing that there was no one in the room. He stepped into the section of the cabin where the sun was met with caution. His body was absorbed by the dark shadows of the wall that seemed to take on a musty tone. His hands begged his mind to touch and they eventually conceded. The walls were damp with a substance that seemed to slip through the spaces in his fingers the more he tried to grasp a hold of it. The stench returned, accompanied by the smell of metal, he could almost taste it. This manifested a hesitation that was intensified by the blanket of gloom ahead. Behind it stood the eight legged beast unbeknownst to its soon to be prey. It summoned its' warrior who seemed to marry the dark. A broken chain hung lazily from his hand, wet footsteps pounded the floor starting slowly then rapidly increasing. The chains clinked and dragged on the floor with intention, fighting to match the heartbeat of its assailant who was now stunned with fear. With each step a body was gradually revealed. Purple ripples on the neck signified a struggle which ended prematurely, the result of a smashed face left eyes bulged, a spineless body meant no movement and an opened belly painted the floor with its insides. The investigator was left stunned, his palm hovering over the butcher knife resting at the rim of his boot. He convinced his mind in choosing fight over flight grabbing the blade that slashed the chest of his assailant but to his misfortune his rugged assailant unhinged the squealing mental from the grasp of his tightly gripped fingers ripping them off, proceeding to decapitate the head that stood before him. Even Anansi was impressed. Resigning to the depths of his gloom he turns to his mother, her legs covering her newborns that were growing by the day.
"Are you satisfied?"
Her voice is shaken yet firm. He looks upon her with admiration, he is a child again in her eyes, running effortlessly through the Congo Basin. Delinquency has always been in his nature, creating a name for himself that was not very welcomed among the animals in his tribe. He looked upon her again, this time as a fully matured beast. He knew his thirst for trickery could never be quenched. He understood her concerns and that his tricks have become more gruesome in recent years,but he felt justified, as his demolition streak could never match the height of dissemination caused by those that ruled the land. It was still not a pleasing thing for a mother to witness.
"Until the earth is rid of all these abominations I can never rest, I am sorry mother"
"Think of the children Anansi, what would your father think?"
"Our father would have done the same, we have to use our gifts for good, sometimes blood is necessary, as for the children, they will understand."
"Let the earth do what it needs to do, you are not Moses"
"But I am a god"
"You are a god my son, but not thee God"
"Oh really, well I am the only one answering the call of humanity"
"In time son, you will see how wrong you were."
"Ah time, time is what we do not have"
"Clean up your mess, spiderling"
