Arin Aye: The Middle Passage

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Arin Aye: The Middle Passage Page 1

by Alan D Jones


Arin Aye

  The Middle Passage

  Contents

  Darnell’s Dream 1

  Blood Ties 8

  Fallen Angels 15

  The First Fall24

  The Prize 30

  Perspective 35

  Color Blind38

  Credits and Notes:39

  Darnell’s Dream

  Year: 2009

  The Hero Darnell floated in and out of consciousness six feet beneath the rich African soil, laid low by the guile of an ancient nameless African Elemental.

  Darnell’s own unique heritage afforded him the ability hibernate near death for long periods of time, but that same gift which preserved what little air there was to breathe in the wooden box, also prevented him from being awake long enough to take any sort action. Not that there are many options six feet deep.

  In his dark prison, Darnell dreamed of his life just two days earlier when his girlfriend Patience had accepted his marriage proposal. But the brightness of that moment quickly transformed into a darkness cast by this nameless priest who took his Patience away. “I have been waiting, watching and hiding in the shadows for centuries and at last I see one capable of reclaiming my treasure,” the wretched man called from where Patience once stood only moments earlier. Speaking in a voice dripping in evil, “I am a priest of the house of Eshu*, murdered centuries ago by an ancestor of your beloved.  And still my blood calls out across the years over this debt still owed. But you, mighty Darnell can repay this debt.  Thus, I we have taken her hostage until reparations are made.”

  Darnell yelled, “What did you do with her?”, as he swung at the shade. But Darnell grasped nothing as the vapor slipped between his fingers.

  The demon cautioned, “While I appreciate your futile efforts, if your attempts to harm me were actually effective, you’d never get your love back from beyond. Better that you focus on the simple task I am to give you. Listen closely.  There is a key brought to this land through the middle passage around the neck of a slave known here as Sam. He was the son of an ancient gatekeeper who entrusted him with the key in his dying breath. You will find this key in a slave cemetery located just east of here near Athens, Georgia. There are many such cemeteries, but this one is known as the Circle Graveyard.  Ask and you will know. Retrieve this key from Sam’s grave.  Once you have it, do not tarry, but travel to Africa to what was once known as Mombasa. There you will find a lake in the valley of kings. With the key search the bottom of that lake for my treasure.  You will know the treasure when you see it, for the key will glow as brightly as the sun when you are near it. Bring my treasure ashore. Open it and I will appear there before you with your beloved.” After this final instruction the apparition disappeared.

  If it had been nighttime, Darnell could have taken to the air and been in Athens in minutes, but since it was not, he ran to the old Datsun he’d maintained since college and made haste down I-20 East from Atlanta towards Athens. His thoughts rushed back to when he first laid eyes on his love the day she walked into his bookstore. In her yellow sundress, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her chocolate skin was as flawless as her smile. As he sped eastward, the thought that his supernatural gifts had somehow put Patience in danger, weighed heavily on Darnell.

  On the road to Athens, Darnell stopped to ask an older gentleman about the Circle Graveyard.  “Oh, you mean the one where the slaves are buried. It’s not far from here. I can show you the way.” At the old man’s direction, the two of them arrived at the site. As the sun set the old man continued, “See on the right there is the cemetery for white folks, but on the left side, in the middle of pasture, that circle of trees and shrubs is the graveyard you seek.  Word is that no man who entered it at night, ever returned.  I don’t know if that’s true or not, but neither the county, the land owner nor the preacher man will step foot into that thicket at night. However, the story is told that back before the war, a black woman, being chased by demons and dogs escaped by hiding in there.  She went in, they went in, but only she came out the next morning.  Her name was Harriett.”

  Darnell thought for a minute, “What, do you mean the Harriett Tubman*?”

  “Yes, that one. Folks say that Harriett wasn’t fully spirit, but she wasn’t fully human either.” The old man winked as darkness fell.

  The old man witnessed the Hero Darnell, muscular and sporting an outdated afro, step across the tree line and disappear from sight by his second step.  The man wanted to blame it on his eyes, but his soul knew otherwise. Amidst the sound of country crickets from the left and right, the old man called out to his new friend, but only silence echoed back from the dark void.

  For Darnell the impenetrable dark of the brush was replaced by an openness, empty of life and a blood red sky above him. Before the Hero Darnell was a yard of open graves. The Hero Darnell realized instantly that he was somewhere in the Pit, a place out of step with our existence, where the illusions of our reality are stripped away and flesh and spirit walk side by side.  Immediately upon his entrance he was swarmed by hungry, talon armed shadows thirsty for his flesh.  But these beasts did not know that Darnell was no ordinary prey.  During the day he was a man with the strength of ten.  But at night, he was something more than that. At night, not only could he fly, he was pretty hard to kill and could emit fire from his eyes the like of which few mortals shall ever see.  To quell these creatures Darnell picked up a fresh bone from that killing field and swung it like a club bashing his opponents. And for those out of reach the flames from his eyes worked just fine.

  As the chaos abated, Darnell could see that he was indeed standing in a slave graveyard. Where the graves were marked, they were so with a small unscripted stone. In the Pit many constraints are no more. For instance, Darnell could see clearly that what lay in one grave was different from the others. He knew immediately, that this was the grave of Sam (Abioye was his true given name).  Darnell, who was familiar with the Pit and many of the perils that therein, moved with purpose towards his target that he might retrieve his prize and depart before some of the more dangerous predators in the Pit took notice of him. But as the Hero Darnell stood before the man’s grave a shade appeared before him to block his way and ask, “Why do you disturb the grave of this one?”

  The Hero Darnell paused for a moment, “He wears a key around his neck that I need to free an innocent woman.”

  “A high claim indeed. I’m sure there is little associated with that key which is innocent.”

  “Woman, why do you care about the one who sleeps below?  That key can do him little good now.” Darnell replied.

  “He is my husband. He was a good man. In his land he was an Eshu priest, like your dark master. But in this land he was a carpenter. I abandoned him for a chance to be free.  I heard that a group headed north was gathering not five miles away from our cabin. So, I dropped everything and ran barefooted in the evening dusk to meet that sweet chariot. I left my husband here and sought my freedom in life, only to be bound here by his side in death.  Teaching others to read and the liberty therein, is what got him lynched and laid low in this graveyard of murdered slaves. And here you are to disturb his rest? To this I must protest. Please do not do this thing. He is my husband.”

  Darnell, hesitated for a moment and then walked through the shade.  Quickly he dug and reached his goal buried just beneath the surface.  Darnell knelt down and said, “Sorry, my brother, but I need this to save someone who still walks the earth.” But as Darnell reached for the key, the corpse shuttered and its right hand reached for Darnell’s wrist.

  “See, you disturb his spirit! Oh misguided warrior, please step away. You know not what you do!” The wife cried out.

&n
bsp; But Darnell, using his free hand, grabbed the skeleton’s bony wrist and pulled himself free along with the key. Grasping the key, Darnell stumbled to his feet and stepped through the grieving wife back towards from whence he came into that odd land. The woman reached out her hand to the departing Darnell, “Surely one such as you knows that this is wrong. You cannot trade wrong for good on any day. Soon you will regret this moment.”

  Darnell exited the Circle graveyard to find the old man and two other old men leaning against his Datsun. A puzzled Darnell asked, “Who are these guys?”

  The old man replied, “Friends. They took me to dinner and brought me back out here to see if you’d come back.”

  “What? I wasn’t gone more than ten minutes.” Darnell said.

  The old men laughed, and Darnell’s new friend replied, “No sir, you’ve been gone for at least three hours. We were just getting ready to call it a night.  But seeing someone actually walk out of there was worth staying up for!”

  Departing from the old men, Darnell quickly found a secluded area in which to leave his car.  Then he took the night air.  Barely visible he would appear as a passing shadow to anyone who happened to see him.  Never catching the sun, Darnell flew across the Atlantic Ocean to the Valley of Kings in Mombasa, ancient land of heroes.

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