I Met a Drifter Who Walked out of the Darien Gap - [Part 4]

Table of Contents
Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3

I looked between Junior and Cassara.  

The way she spoke so casually about it, and how accepting Junior was about the whole thing, just made me scoff, “You’re fucking with me, right?”

Junior’s eyes moved to me as if to inform me, sternly, to shut up. His fingers clenching around the machete also implied I should remain silent.

“So, Penthesil is under new management?” Junior asked.

Cassara nodded.

“Where yah ‘eaded?” Junior asked.

Cassara sighed, shrugging, “North? Away? I don’t know. I kept walking the second I ran out of road,” Cassara admitted.

Junior nodded, “Yah did good ‘elpin’ me boys unloadin’ today. Could use some extra muscle. Don’ get many Penthesilean soldiers snoopin’ around a ship just ferrying supplies around the gulf dese days,” Junior’s eyes took a far away look for a moment before he turned back to Cassara, “Iffin’ yah looking fer work anna place ta’ lay yer ‘ead, I’d not ‘ave a problem wit it.”

I sighed in relief until Junior’s machete was pointed to my throat once more.

“But don'chya go keepin’ secrets from me on me own ship again, yah hear?!” Junior narrowed his eyes on me, “Yah know ‘ow many blanc go missin’ in da Gulf?”

I narrowed my eyes, “I’m not-” I was cut off as Junior’s eyebrows lifted up high as he glared down at me.

“Enough of ‘em,” Junior hopped off the chair and headed down below deck, “We shovin’ off soon. Best get ready to ‘ead back to sea,” he turned to Cassara, “Me offa’s on the table ‘til we leave Haiti. After dat, yer on yer own, Cass.”

Cassara in mockery with a serious tone, “I'll think about it, Captain.”

Junior laughed as he walked down the hallway, his voice calling from down the steps, “Captain! ha-ha!”

I rubbed my temples as I tried to calm myself, I had never seen Junior that pissed before.  “So, that’s why you’re running?” I looked up to Cassara, “But the new empress is an Angel?  I mean, are you sure?”

“You don’t believe me?” Cassara asked as she turned to the door, “After everything you’ve seen so far?”

“I mean,” I paused trying to take everything in, “A black angel?  That’s a bit apocalyptic isn’t it?” I added nervously.  

“Apocalyptic?” Cassara asked.

“Yes, because from what you’re describing it sounds like the Horseman, er, woman, of War has descended upon earth,” I trailed off.

Cassara just took a deep inhale from her cigarette and pushed the smoke from her nostrils, her eyes saying everything I needed, or didn’t need to hear.

“No,” I shook my head, unsure if it was me feeling overwhelmed by everything or if I was in full blown denial, “No, this is crazy!”

“You think that’s crazy then I doubt you’re going to want to stick around for whatever happens next,” Cassara hissed as she slipped through the doorway, ducking as she went.

I got to my feet and headed after Cassara down to the bunks.  “I’m not calling you a liar or anything!  I’m not even saying I don’t believe you it’s,” I paused, “It’s more that I don’t want to believe you, is that better?”

Cassara ignored me as she got to her room, “See you tomorrow,” and she shut the door.

We left port without much incident and after I laid down in my cabin I eventually passed out.

…

As we traveled I suffered strange visions in my dreams.

A tall man in a top hat was wreathed in smoke standing far from me.  

I looked around, confused as I staggered through what looked like a graveyard.  

“I felt yah comin’ boyo, like Serendipity” the voice of the figure echoed, smoke escaped from his lips from the end of a thick cigar, “But seems it ain’t me you got to fear, count yerself lucky,” he chuckled deep and low.

I looked around, “Who are you?”

At my feet was a large python that quickly slithered past me. I staggered away in shock, noticing that the snake was weaving around old tombstones and mossy grass.

I was in a graveyard, somehow.

It was then I realized that the figure, wearing the top-hat, was digging.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my stomach sinking. 

“Me job,” the figure turned and I nearly fell over myself as I saw his face. His eyes were milky and white, a large cigar clenched in his rather gnarly yellow teeth. His nostrils were plugged up with some kind of cotton and his face was covered in white face paint resembling a skull. There was a cross on his hat and he fixed me with a wide and eerie grin, “But ain’t no excuse to look like a slob.”

He was dressed in a suit with a tailcoat and wore a pair of gloves, though the fingers were cut off, showing his black fingers contrasting with the white gloves.

He drove the shovel into the ground and took the cigar out of his mouth for a second, “Dat’s yours yah know. Dug it for yah, ain’t just for show!” He grinned wide.

“W-Why?” I stuttered.

“Everybody who’s gotta body comes tah me someday,” he laughed, “Thought I’d keep yer spot open, keepin it comfy,” he approached me slowly.

I tried to run but my legs wouldn’t work as the tall figure loomed over me, grinning ear to ear.

“I said I wasn’t comin’ fer yah! Yah thinkin’ I lied?” His milky eyes looked upwards, “Course… I ain’t the only Loa tah come tah greet yah from da’ oth’r side.”

“Loa?” I asked, turning to where the white-faced man was glancing. As I did, I let out a yelp of shock.

Crouched behind me was a man with almost no lips covering his teeth, his eyes wide and yellow. His whole body looked to be covered in white flour and he wore loose fitting clothing and a pair of rubber boots.  

On his back was what I could only refer to as a large square funnel, a shoot on one side and a crank on the other.

Drool began to leak from his nearly lipless mouth.

The white-faced man laughed, “Eh! Watchyah doin’ in dis poor man’s vision? He ain’t deserve such a hauntin’, man o’ his position”

The wide eyes of this strange humanoid creature looked me over, “Tasty…”

The white faced man’s hot breath was on my neck as he leaned down and spoke into my ear, “Less yah wanna hop into dat grave early, boy, I suggest you run. Congo-Savanne lookin’ at you and thinkin’... ‘Yum’!” 

The creature’s jaw opened and shut like a trap, clicking in a terrifying chattering noise that sounded less like a human jaw and more like a wooden instrument clattering open and shut. 

Without much thought I turned to run, only to feel a set of hands on my shoulders.  

“Grind yah… Tasty…” the monster hissed as it pulled me up and forced me towards the funnel on it’s back.

…

I woke up screaming, feeling my face and shoulders, looking around frantically.

I froze when I saw the face of a snake, calmly flicking its tongue at me.  

I froze as the large python slowly slipped from the ceiling down to the floor, slithering around me for a moment before slipping out of the room through my half opened door.

I rushed out of the room only to bump into Cassara.

Cassara looked down at me, “You okay? You were screaming like a little bitch in there.” 

“S-shut up!” I stammered, “There was a snake in my room! You didn’t see it? It was huge!”

Cassara looked down the hallway in either direction, “Nope.”

I ran my hands through my hair, “I’m losing my mind.”

“Yeah,” Cassara said, patting me on the shoulder, “We’re docked by the way.”

“Thank God,” I sighed in relief as I grabbed my backpack and headed out of my small cabin.

Fresh air would be a welcome relief to the insanity going on inside my head.

…

After a hard day’s work on the docks, I finally found my contact, who had arrived with her delivery trucks and a group of men to load supplies.

“You must be David, yah?” Savannah, the woman who was my local contact here, called out to me. I’d never met her before, but she seemed nice. Her hair was in short dreadlocks, her brown eyes kind as she approached me. She wore tattered work clothing, clearly not what she would wear around the hospital where she said she worked.

“Savannah, right?” I confirm as I head towards her to shake her hand. “How did you know it was me?”

“You’re the only white boy here,” Savannah laughed, instead hugging me and I could swear she sniffed my hair, “You stand out.”

“My mother’s Honduran, you know,” I groaned.

Savannah shrugged, “White by our standards,” she laughed, “Come on, we’ll get you all set…” she trailed off, as Cassara passed by her. Her nostrils flared and her eyes lingered on Cassara, “Who’s… this?”

Cassara glanced at Savannah, “Junior’s new deck-hand,” she said as she continued on, dropping the box she was carrying onto a forklift on the dock.  

Savannah licked her lips, looking out of sorts for a moment.

“Savannah? You okay?” I asked.

“...Why doesn't she come along? Maybe she can help us unload?” Savannah asked.

I turned to Cassara, smiling, “What do you say, Cass?”

Cassara looked to the boat and then to me, “Kind of rude to leave Junior on what would be my first day, yeah?”

Savannah smiled, “Junior’s in port for a week, dearie. Why not come and stay at the hospital with us. I promise it’ll have better beds than whatever Junior’s got on his rusted bucket.”

“Ey!” Junior called out from the docks, laughing, “No one calls Da Baron a rust bucket but me!” Junior laughed, hugging Savannah and kissing her on either cheek, “Savannah, Bébé! ‘Ow ‘ave yah been?”

“Well enough,” Savannah said, looking at Junior, “Do you mind if I borrow your new deck-hand for a bit?”

Junior looked Savannah over with an apprehensive grin, “Wha’ fer?”

“Feedin’ the hungry, as always,” Savannah said with a disarming smile.

Junior looked Cassara up and down, then to Savannah, “Yah tink she can help yah? Den it’s up tah her whether she go.”

Savannah turned to Cassara and me, “That seems settled then,” she beamed.

Junior approached Cassara, “Watch yer’self, Luv. Be careful, eh?”

Cassara nodded, “I will, thanks Captain.”

Savannah grinned at Junior, “Oh, she call yah Captain!”

“I know,” Junior gushed his tone shifting again, “Why yah tink I hire her? Ha-Ha-Ha!” He laughed.

I headed to one of the trucks, followed by Cassara as we loaded in.

Soon enough, we were driving over bumpy roads through run-down streets and various houses either half fixed or falling apart.

Cassara looked over the state of the houses we passed, “Things seem pretty rough.”

I nodded, “Get knocked down by a couple of hurricanes and a shitty infrastructure to start with and it’s hard for people to stand back up. It’s why we bring medical supplies out here.”

Cassara nodded, “They need builders, not medics.”

“No one wants to help, it seems. For the most part it’s a fun hot-button issue for a month or two after the disaster, folks donate money, then the politicians pocket it and nothing happens,” I sighed, “It’s depressing but that’s reality.”

Cassara was silent for the rest of the drive as we made our way to the hospital.

Once we got there, it was more work. Unloading medical supplies into the hospital.

Cassara and I sat outside afterwards, drinking large bottles of water after a hard day's labor.

It was amusing to me that Cassara didn’t seem to complain at all about working. In fact she seemed to enjoy it, like it kept her mind off of things.

That being said, it was clear Cass’s mind was wandering.

“Hey, David,” Cassara whispered.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“If you… Before I left, Ragna had some lofty goals,” Cassara admitted.  

“Lofty how?” I asked, “Like… World domination?”

Cassara was silent as she looked around, “If you lived here, and someone showed up and said you wouldn’t ever have to worry about a roof over your head, food in your stomach or your health, and they could make good on those promises… Would you give up your freedom for it?”

That was a heavy concept. 

I took a swig of water and swallowed hard, “I think, if someone’s asking that of people they have an ulterior motive, you know?”

“Right. But, let's say you still get all of that stuff that was promised,” Cassara suggested, “Would you care?”

I sighed, thinking of places like Communist China and the USSR. “I think governments that do that always push someone down as a result. Sure, it all seems like a good idea but then you have a tyrant rising up. So to give up your freedom for comfort seems like a bad deal.”

Cassara paused for a few more moments, “Are you really free if you can’t afford your next meal? Or if you have no home to live in?”

I gave that some pause, not sure how to answer.

“You can’t be free if you’re dead,” Cassara said softly, “And a whole lot of people would die if nothing is done. When you’re forgotten about, and no one gives a shit, can you blame someone for taking a deal, even if it seems bad?”

“Are we talking about the people here or you?” I asked.

“I gave up everything,” Cassara sighed, “Because I didn’t want to be part of her plot to remove freedom but…” Cassara looked around, “That was before I saw all of this. It just seems like, you can’t be free if you don’t even know when your next meal is going to come. If it’s going to come.”

“Prisoners are given food,” I pointed out, “They aren’t free.”

“But what’s the difference if the only other option was to die free or live well and just… Not having a choice in what the country does?” Cassara asked as she looked at folks coming and going out of the hospital, “What’s it matter to the average citizen?”

I heaved a sigh, “I don’t know, Cassara.”

“I just feel like, I don’t know, what’s a choice worth?” Cassara mused.

“Worth a thousand meals,” Savannah chuckled as she approached us, “Worth plenty.”

“Hey Savannah!” I smiled at her, “Seems we’re all set for the day.”

“Seems it,” Savannah said, turning to Cassara, “So… When I saw you at the docks I couldn’t help but see the spirits all around you.”

“Spirits?” Cassara asked, turning to her, “What spirits?”

“Fire Loa, all round,” Savannah said with a smile, “You don’t see them?”

“No,” Cassara said simply, “And I don’t have much desire to.”

“Even if some spirits might ‘elp yah speak to your birth mother? Find out why she left?” Savannah asked.

Cassara narrowed her eyes on Savannah, “What?”

Savannah sat next to us, looking at the trucks as they drove off, “The Loa whispered to me, told me yah were lookin’ fer your mother’s truth. She’s left the mortal world, true, but she ain’t gone, yah know.”

Cassara’s face softened as she looked Savannah over.

“I have some friends who could help yah talk to ‘er,” Savannah explained, “Ask ‘er some questions, maybe get an answer.”

Cassara scoffed, “Right. Listen if I believed you at all-”

“Reese,” Savannah whispered.

Cassara’s eyes went wide.

“Yer mother’s name?  It’s Reese,” Savannah said as she stood up, “See me later, we’ll talk.”

“Cassara? You okay?” I asked.

Shock lingered on Cassara’s face before she shook her head. She stood up as the lights around the outside of the hospital clicked on, evening finally upon us, “No, no I’m not. How did she know my mother’s name?”

“Lucky guess,” I shrugged.

“Really?!” Cassara snapped, “That’s not a common name!”

Before I could object Cassara was running inside.

I heaved a sigh and got to my feet, following her.

Inside was Savannah, smiling to us holding a hurricane lantern, “Come along, I’ll show yah.”

We followed Savannah out of the hospital and through the streets.

Before I knew it we were walking to a church, heading through the courtyard.

For some reason I could have sworn I had seen this place before, despite never having been here.

I assumed it was because many churches look the same, but it was curious how it wasn’t the church that seemed familiar, but the courtyard itself.  

“Swear I’ve been here before,” I whispered.

Cassara was silent as her eyes were set on Savannah’s lantern.  

“Loa are special spirits you know, they guide all sorts of folk, living an’ dead,” Savannah explained as we walked through the courtyard, “Speakin’ to Baron Samedi, for example, can help you commune with the dead. Of course, ‘e needs an offering of some sort.”

A chill ran down my spine when she spoke the name Baron Samedi, and for some reason I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise up, recalling when the strange man smoking a cigar in my dream told me to run.

I felt the urge to run kick in, but I pushed it back. We reached the side of the church and I realized the courtyard had transitioned to a graveyard.

The same graveyard from my dream.

I turned around to see if someone was behind me, some creature or the tall white faced man. Was that Baron Samedi? The white faced man from my dream?  

“And can you help me speak to him?” Cassara asked.

“Yes,” Savannah whispered, “But yah gotta offer something to the Loa.”

My eyes went wide as she approached a strange device.

It had a large funnel at the top, a crank on the side and a shoot. Under the shoot was a bucket, covered in rust.

No. 

No, that wasn’t rust!

“Sometimes they need something,” Savannah whispered, her eyes shifting color as she turned to Cassara and I.  White powder rose up from the device she stood in front of, collecting around her hand holding the hurricane lantern as the light flickered, “Sometimes a spirit gets hungry, yah?”

My eyes went wide as I recalled the cigar-smoking man’s words from my dream, “Better trust yah gut, before you find yourself in one,” I gulped, grabbing Cassara’s wrist as the next words lilted through my mind, “What yah waitin’ fer boyo? Run, run, run!”