Do you dare linger in the impossible question of the self?
The memory emerges: you were on a beach, a sort of family vacation.
A drive to a coast, dangling your face out car window, the wash of cool sea air upon closed eyelids, the flickering shadows of gnarled cyprus trees as the car wound between sand dunes. Music played, your father drove, singing along, happily off-key.
You recall a drive to a coast, dangling your face out the car window, the wash of cool sea air upon your closed eyelids, the flickering shadows of gnarled cyprus trees as the car wound between them and sand dunes. Music played, and your father drove the car, singing along, happily off-key.
Your father. Can you remember him? His face? His touch? His smell?
No. All that remains is smudged outline.
And your mother. There, in the front passenger seat; you can’t see her face, either. Just the warm reassuringness of her voice, like a gathered quilt when going to bed. Good night, sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite, my angels.
Angels. Plural.
There were two of you.
Another one there in the backseat of the car, pinching your arm, your leg. Or in the bedroom: you’d awaken at night to face peering down at you. Or daytime, on the beach. The other who when no one else was watching would gather you into his arms and press you down beneath the waves. Until the color of your mind went away, until your lungs would burst with tears, and pain, and anger.
The boat shifts, the candles flicker, the madman in the poster yet leers at his reflection.
“—you are telling the truth,” the Captain says, “we would be helpless to resist. No one can stop the Company.” He presses out the cigarette. “We sail for Antibes. We must offload our cargo—it’s not safe for the crew any longer. We’re two days out. So do what you will do. You have the upper-hand here. I am tired,” he admits. “Death comes as it will, when it will. It doesn’t need my assistance. Does it need yours?”
When you remain silent, he nods. “Two days,” he repeats. “Then we unload our awful cargo. I’m sure you know that once we have delivered it, certain structures in the world will change. We are the first domino. The match to light the powder keg. You don’t have to fight me. Maybe you don’t want to. If you want to share in this,” he says, “I have a mission for you.”
Getting a little bored with this guy?
If you’re ‘on-board’ with the Captain because you care deeply about things like socioeconomic equity and equal rights and universal basic income, well here you go!
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