Our present narrative moves off the Island and out onto the high seas. We've gone off location before, but always in the flashback or in historical sequences.
Did Nu really "act out" as an act of psychological self-actualization and escape from the Island on Andou's boat as the Professor suspects? Is she even there on Andou's vessel? Mu's pretty sure. And mothers are usually right. Especially these mother and daughter pairs who all have slept and breathed next to each other in bed really since the daughters were born. I myself think Clete is right when he suggests that they all really need some separation. Dog Island is a place with no privacy, no personal space. Clete, bless his selfish, iconoclastic heart, is the epitome of a separated, discrete individual, sundered and apart from anyone and anything, to these women. It's why they are both appalled and enthralled by him.
If you're looking for long passages of descriptions of the marine scene, I'm going to disappoint you. The ocean is just a surface that our hero needs to cover to get to the next scene of enactment. I've been on boats the size that Clete is piloting; and they make me ill. So, it's not an experience I tend to want to dwell on very long.
So, take a dose of your literary Dramamine, batten down your hatches, and put on your flotation gear, cause we're heading out.
Lee gave me an abbreviated refresher on the boat’s
operation. She showed me where there was an ancient copy of the operating
manual; it was in English. I even had a vague memory of reading a manual for
the same model of vessel for some reason. I had certainly reviewed many ship
manuals in my time. For some reason I remembered the technical illustration of
the craft on the cover. Lee believed there was enough fuel for the mission and
getting back. If the pursuit went farther, I was to proceed to the next Island
and refuel, but under no circumstances was Nu’s foot allowed to set foot on
foreign soil. I was going to tell her
they had watched too many fantasy flicks, but we were in a hurry.
I questioned the off-course route she had given me, but she
said there were a series of seamounts that I was avoiding just under the
surface. They were the cause of many of the shipwrecks that brought people to
their shore (or who alternatively provided a varied source of nourishment to
the native sharks). The route she gave me would have it’s own set of submarine
hazards, but they were much fewer and she trusted me to spot them in addition
to using the sounding map.
I broke out of the harbor and proceeded to the place where I
would shift course. Sure enough, I could
see it was a maze to the east—more like a Minefield really. There were even a
few places where rocks broke surface. More skilled sailors than I, like Andou,
are probably able to read the current swirls that signaled danger beneath.
However, all this time I noticed that there was a large albino orca swimming in
front of me. It kept its distance but then it stopped. It was like it was
waiting for me. Lee’s instructions were to veer north, but the orca took a turn
to the east, exactly the direction I needed to be going. If it took a dive, I
would be in trouble, but it had been staying at the surface within eyeshot. I silently
apologized to Lee in my head in abandoning her safe-course route, and decided
to do like I did in other foreign countries and try to “drive like the locals.”
Finding the orca seemed like good luck such that I now questioned my own sanity
as I seemed to be adopting the Islanders’ practice of following a portent. It was
a good call though, as the orca stayed with me until we cleared “The
Minefield.” I checked my watch and I had made up for all of the time lost in my
arguing with Mu back at port.
An open sea pursuit is pretty boring, at least mine was. Set
your course, read your instruments, and just keep heading toward empty horizon
until something hopefully shows up. I carried out all instructions given to me.
Sure enough, my quarry came within viewing distance and I now had a visible
target. I made sure all Dog Island colors were flying as directed. The ship cut its engine and waited for me as
I pulled alongside and secured us together.
So far, everything went as Mu had explained. I had her statement in my
pocket. I conjectured that it would be some phonetic workout of whatever language
those guys would respect.
“Put on that garment on before you board,” she said, “and keep it on when
you read my statement.”
It was a robe of golden silk material and black and red
trim. The figures of the four directions, the words and the animals were
embroidered on each quadrant of the robe. The sleeves were much too long for my
arms. There was an odd hat of black silk which looked awfully silly to me, but
I put them on as instructed. By strange coincidence there was a large embroidered
square on the front which featured the Chinese character for my last name,
Wong. I stepped over onto the supply ship. Hari and his two cousins stood there
waiting for me. Skipper and the other man were nowhere in view. Hari gave me his hand and helped me on board.
I got out the statement and read the first sentence. He took me to the mast.
The three of them then dropped down on one knee. Hari looked up and yelled
suddenly. I felt a shadow fall on me and then something hard and blunt on my
head and then it went black.
When I awoke I was down in some room below. The rocking of
the ocean was making me nauseous because the up-and-down motion was very heavily
pronounced, or at least seemed so to me. The room was packed with crates as I
would expect any freighter to be. In the room were myself, Nu, and Skipper. Apparently
we were locked in. Skipper was very deliberately facing away from Nu. They were
obviously avoiding any eye contact. I had been laid out on a fold-down cot.
“Nu? Are you all right?” She was facing a
bulkhead.
“I’m fine. How’s your head Professor? You
had quite a bump, but no skin was broken.”
“It hurts. Why did they do that? I was not
armed. I made no threats.”
“They are idiots,” said Skipper. “Watch
too much movies. Did you call the navy?”
“You’re here too? Mutiny then?”
“Yes. Stupid child of mine.”
“I radioed my coordinates and asked them
to investigate if I did not re-establish contact in two hours. How long have I
been unconscious?”
“They have 40 minutes then. Will serve
them right to sit in prison. My worthless son.
Locking me up like this. He will have hell to pay, I tell you.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, why are you
two talking to the walls? And not facing each other?”
“Dr. Wong, on Dog Island at least, the man
in this room, I am not allowed to speak with him or to interact directly in any
way. We do not know the rules at sea, so I am maintaining as large a ceremonial
distance as I can as is called for by protocol.”
“Why?” Nu did not answer. “Is it a caste
thing? Is it the royal status or something like that?”
“Dr. Wong,” Nu said, “I’m not sure if I
should be even talking to YOU right now because of what you have on. Why are
you wearing that robe and that hat?”
“Your mother told me to dress like this before
I boarded this ship and to have it on when I read her message to the crew
here.”
“MY mother, the Dragon Guardian Princess …
gave you that robe?”
“Well, not to keep, I’m sure, but I assume
it has the meaning of an office? It’s an emissary’s outfit then? I’m taking
them off right now.”
“That is NOT the robe of an emissary. You
are right now something much greater. Keep everything on,” said Nu, “your life
may depend on it.” She said something in Something spoken in Manchurian to
Skipper. Back to English. “I am become a silent vessel, who sees and hears nothing.
Speak freely to Captain Andou.”
“Nu, what the hell is going on?”
“Dr. Wong, you will now speak to me. She
will be silent. It is as if she were not here.”
“Skipper, what is this about?”
“You call me just Andou.”
“I am just Clete.”
“While you wear that robe, I call you
Wong. Hari!”
A rap came at the door, and a grunt in some vernacular
tongue. It was one of his two nephews.
“Call my son here. He does not realize who
has boarded us. Tell him his very life is in peril. All of us!” He turned to
me, “My son was not born nor raised on the island. He does not know all of the
Island ways. My family moved after the flood.”
“The one in the early 1980s.”
“Yes. There was more Island when I was child.
The Water God gives and takes back. Sometimes the Earth God pushes back and it
grows. They struggle. The Sea Witch’s power, right now, I think is in gain.”
The door unlocked and a young man of about 25 stepped in. “My son, the jailer.”
“Father, I’m sorry, but this had to be
done.”
“This is Wong.”
“I know his name Father, we met last
night.”
“Wong is not his name. Wong is his title”
“Wong, I’m sorry you were hit over the
head,” said Hari.
“Young man, that was totally uncalled for.
I mean you no harm or coercion myself.”
“I am terribly sorry. I will beat my
deckhand myself.”
“Do what you need to do,” I said, “I was
asked to read a statement to you by Princess Mu, and I promised I would.”
“Go ahead.”
I took out her paper. “OH, this is in
English. I’m supposed to stand. ‘In the name Four Guardians of the Compass, the
protectors of Dog Island, the Dragon, the Phoenix, the Unicorn, and the
Tortoise, and by the will of the Five Elements that give and sustain life, and by
my authority as the Great Prince of Southern China, the Exalted Lord of Dog
Island and All Its Tributary Domains, you will return the princess to her
appointed place or forfeit that your family and lineage continue. Let every
knee turn to water and every forehead and every hand hit the floor and tremble.’
Hmm. Nothing diplomatic or flowery there.”
When I looked up, the men were bent with heads to the floor.
I turned around and saw that Nu was likewise prostrated. I guessed that I had
read some kind of protocol bomb.
“Are you all kissing the floor for a
reason? I don’t think Mecca is in that direction.”
“We didn’t have a choice, Ah Wong,” said
Andou. He then yelled at the other men. “SEE! I TOLD YOU HE WAS RAJA! The gods
save us! He has the power of The Witch besides!” said Andou.
“There something else here. It’s looks
like a kind of curse, ‘By the power of God Over All Gods, the Great Ten, I
command the spirits that indwell us all …”
“RAJA!” said Andou, “Do not finish that
sentence, or you will need to get both ships to port by yourself.”
“Hunh?”
“It is a curse. It is a death call on your
enemy. No need to pronounce it.”
“I have no weapon. It’s just words.”
“You don’t need a weapon against us. Your
very word is deadly. Our own bodies will kill themselves if you speak that
curse. Please. We are at your full service. Please conduct yourself and order
us however you will,” said Andou.
“OK, I will.” I stood in front of the
Hari. “Heads up son, look me in the eye. Hari, is it? Explain yourself.”
“Raja, I was trying redeem my sister’s
life.”
“Son, I appreciate that. We have the same
goal, you and I. She’s your sister you say?”
He nodded. I walked over the Nu who still had her head on
the floor.
“Nu? Are you Hari’s sister?”
Her head made a nodding motion.
“Did you plan this escape with these young men?”
She shook her head.
“Are you here against your will?”
Again, the nodding motions.
“Hari, putting aside this belief in
magical words, here’s a real threat. You now have about 30 minutes for me to
get to my phone, or a group of ships will come with all force necessary to liberate
this Princess of Dog Island and me, a citizen of the United States. You will most
likely be boarded, killed, and your ship scuttled unless you cooperate with me.
Are we clear on this?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“I’m glad we’re all on the same page.
Everyone rise.”
“All men stand down! Bow!” Andou yelled out.
“Follow me, Raja.” He led us out onto the deck. The kinsman with the meander
tattoo had my phone in his hand. Andou retrieved it and handed it to me. “Please
make your phone call, but I call for equanimity and restitution first before we
can proceed.”
He handed me a bamboo rod and then all four men assumed a
prostrate position.
“Now what?” I asked Andou.
“There were 10 parties levying accusation
in your pronouncement. So apply 10 strokes to each mutineer and the debt is
addressed. They must be firm and delivered with conviction. The 10th
stroke, the one that is yours, must be stronger than the rest.”
“What part of the body?”
“Any part you want. I suggest the upper
back. You don’t want cripple them or they will be no use to you in the future.”
“Why don’t we wait. It’s probably not best
to do this kind of thing in the heat of the moment.”
“On the contrary, it is the best time.
Your stroke will match the intensity of your outrage or your mercy. If you wait
to give a cold-blooded stroke, it will probably be more damaging, and less
fair.”
“Can’t I just levy a fine?”
“They have no money. We pay with our
bodies.”
“In that case, how about they work it off
with labor whenever I need it?”
“You already own that, Raja. You are not
accustomed to giving a beating before have you?”
“It shows?”
“Pitifully, but I say that with respect.
They will honor the punishment that is meted out by you. They will even prefer
that you leave a mark.”
“Fer Chrissakes! You know, I thought the
women from your Island were REALLY fucked up in their thinking, but you guys
are just as bad in your cultish devotion to the mortification of the flesh. Is
there something in the water there?”
“You
are closer to the truth than you realize. If you prefer not to sully your hand,
you may have the Princess Nu administer the beating in your stead, but you must
deliver your stroke, the 10th.”
“I don’t think she would be capable. Nu is
a very shy and gentle girl.”
Hearing that Nu stepped up and took the bamboo from my hand.
She pointed to her head, and then pointed to the tattooed boy for confirmation.
“I now speak and am your servant. Is he the one that struck you?”
I nodded, whereupon she loosed her hair letting it fall to
her calves. She swiveled, raised the rod and screamed shrilly. She later told
me it translated to: “In return from my father and my king! Baba! Yi!” She delivered
a firm blow to same point on his head as I was struck. He did not lose
consciousness as I had, but he shuddered and faltered a bit under the blow. She
turned to me and bowed three times. She held out nine fingers, her face shining
bright in jubilant glee, apparently waiting signal from me to continue. I held
up my hand in restraint and she then stood by for instruction.
“A worthy blow,” said Skipper.
This was not the compliant, eager-to-learn,
intense-but-cheerful Newton who sat in the classroom. An anthropologist
colleague who was advising me on working in foreign lands talked about how we
sometimes cross out of the real world into “Ceremonial Space” where we cease to
be who we are, but instead become actors or proxies enacting truths much larger
than what we are ourselves. I felt we all had entered Ceremonial Space. We were
about something bigger than us now, something huge, essentially human. You
don’t know what to do and yet you know exactly what to do.
“Thank you my dear,” I said to Nu, “but
Wong Wong, Raja, or whatever I am, is exercising executive authority and doing
a changeup. Stand up men,” I said. They complied. “This raja is from the Western
world so I will do this a bit differently. I will strike the face, as a subject
with the back of my hand. You will turn the other cheek and offer me to then
strike you on the other side, as a man. My hand is old and weak, so if you
really want a mark, I suggest you get a tattoo.”
“Would you like a glove, Raja?” asked
Andou.
“No. My dad always slapped me upside the
head with an open hand when I deserved it. He told me once, ‘Son, when you
discipline your own son with a physical blow, use an open hand as I do. Use an
open hand because even if the sin against you hurt and you are justified in
correcting and punishing an insult, you need to hurt yourself too in delivering
a blow to someone one you care for.’ So that’s what I’m doing. We must all feel
it.”
And so it went as I found myself modifying some godawful
ritual I really didn’t want to participate in, but you do what have to do. I
don’t need to describe it, but finally Andou then presented himself to be
struck.
“Why? You had nothing to do with it,” I
said.
“I raised him. Don’t hold back.”
So I obliged. It was the only thing to do. I clobbered dad
too. I’m sorry to say it, but delivering all that physical justice to guys who
wanted it and demanded it felt pretty damn good.
© Copyright 2012 by Vincent Way, all rights reserved.
Cloud cover over land and water, but the breakup is starting. It was very hot for L.A. over the weekend, 90s-100s, as we go into September, which is typically one of our hottest months.
Hey, here's a feature that I've not been able to share for a while, but I felt sure that the good citizens of the City of Angels would not let me down. So, here near the end of August, last Wednesday, I found an subject for "The Christmas That Will Not Die" series.
I'm probably cheating a little bit, because you will notice a bell shape in front? It's the outline of a little shrine in which a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary stands in a blue hooded robe. (If you saw such a person in real life today, you'd assume she was a Muslim girl.) So, maybe it's not Xmas lights, but Virgin Mary lights? Fair enough ... but who did all the hard labor on Christmas night? Joseph? The angels? The shepherds? Jesus? Nope. That's what I'm talkin' about...
We've got some low-horizon red-orangeness and sunbeams bursting out both above and below. Cool no?
There is much moisture in the air this morning. Low clouds over the ocean, but much clearing just up above.
