Dark Matter

by Sheree R. Thomas

  So I look at that bone. “What kinda voodoo you work with that mojo?”

  “This is a keybone to the culud man. Ain’t but one in the whole world.”

  “And you got it?” I act like I ain’t believe him. But I was testin him. I never rush upon a thing I don’t know.

  “We got it.”

  “We got?”

  “It belongs to the people of God.”

  I ain’t feel like the people of God, but I just let him talk on.

  “Remember when Ezekiel was in the valley of dry bones?”

  I reckoned I did.

  “… And the hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the spirit to the valley of dry bones.

  “And he said unto me, ‘Son of man, can these bones live?’ and I said unto him, ‘Lord, thou knowest.’

  “And he said unto me, ‘Go and bind them together. Prophesy that I shall come and put flesh upon them from generations and from generations.’

  “And the Lord said unto me, ‘Son of man, these bones are the whole house of the brothers, scattered to the islands. Behold, I shall bind up the bones and you shall prophesy the name.’ ”

  He walked on pass me and loped on down to the river bank. This here old place was called Deadman’s Landin because they found a dead man there one time. His body was so rotted and ate up by fish and craw dads that they couldn’t tell whether he was white or black, just a dead man.

  Headeye went over to them long planks and logs leanin off in the water and begin to push them around like he was makin somethin.

  “You was followin me.” I was mad again.

  Headeye acted like he was iggin me. He put his hands up to his eyes and looked far out over the water. I could barely make out the other side of the river. It was real wide right along there and take couple hours by boat to cross it. Most I ever did was fish and swim. Headeye, he act like he iggin me. I began to bait my hook and go down the bank to where he was. I was mad enough to pop him side the head, but I shoulda been glad. I just wanted him to own up to the truth. I walked along the bank. That damn river was risin. It was lappin up over the planks of the landin and climbin up the bank.

  Then the funniest thing happened. Headeye, he stopped movin and shovin on those planks and looks up at me. His pole is layin back under a willow tree like he wan’t goin to fish none. A lot of birds were still flyin over and I saw a bunch of wild hogs rovin along the levee. All of a sudden Headeye, he say:

  “I ain’t mean no harm what I said about you workin with the devil. I take it back.”

  It almost knocked me over. Me and Headeye was arguin a while back bout how many niggers there is in the Bible. Headeye, he know all about it, but I ain’t give on to what I know. I looked sideways at him. I figured he was tryin to make up for followin me. But there was somethin funny goin on as I held my peace. I said “huh-huh,” and I just kept on lookin at him.

  Then he points out over the water and up in the sky wavin his hand all round like he was twirlin a lasso.

  “You see them signs?”

  I couldn’t help but say “yeah.”

  “The Ark is comin.”

  “What Ark?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Noah’s Ark?”

  “Just wait. You’ll see.”

  And he went back to fixin up that landin. I come to see what he was doing pretty soon. And I had a notion to go down and pitch in. But I knowed Headeye. Sometimes he gets a notion in his big head and he act crazy behind it. Like the time in church when he told Rev. Jenkins that he heard people moanin out on the river. I remember that. Cause papa went with the men. Headeye, his old man was with them out in that boat. They thought it was somebody took sick and couldn’t row ashore. But Headeye, he kept tellin them it was a lot of people, like a multitude.

  Anyway, they ain’t find nothin and Headeye, his daddy hauled off and smacked him side the head. I felt sorry for him and didn’t laugh as much as the other kids did, though sometimes Headeye’s notions get me mad too.

  Then I come to see that maybe he wasn’t followin me. The way he was actin I knowed he wasn’t scared to be there at Deadman’s Landin. I threw my line out and made like I was fishin, but I wasn’t, cause I was steady watchin Headeye.

  By and by the clouds started to get thick as clabber milk. A wind come up. And even though the little waves slappin the sides of the bank made the water jump around and dance, I could still tell that the river was risin. I looked at Headeye. He was wanderin off along the bank, wadin out in the shallows and leanin over like he was lookin for somethin.

  I comest to think about what he said, that valley of bones. I comest to get some kinda crazy notion myself. There was a lot of signs, but they weren’t nothin too special. If you’re sharp-eyed you always seem somethin along the Mississippi.

  I messed around and caught a couple of fish. Headeye, he was wadin out deeper in the Sippi, bout hip-deep now, standin still like he was listenin for somethin. I left my pole under a big rock to hold it down and went over to where he was.

  “This ain’t the place,” I say to him.

  Headeye, he ain’t say nothin. I could hear the water come to talk a little. Only river people know how to talk to the river when it’s mad. I watched the light on the waves way upstream where the old Sippi bend, and I could tell that she was movin faster. Risin. The shakin was fast and the wind had picked up. It was whippin up the canebrake and twirlin the willows and the swamp oak that drink themselves full along the bank.

  I said it again, thinkin maybe Headeye would ask me where was the real place. But he ain’t even listen.

  “You come out here to fish or fool?” I asked him. But he waved his hand back at me to be quiet. I knew then that Headeye had some crazy notion in his big head and that was it. He’d be talkin about it for the next two weeks.

  “Hey!” I hollered at him. “Headeye, can’t you see the river’s on the rise? Let’s shag outa here.”

  He ain’t pay me no mind. I picked up a coupla sticks and chunked them out near the place where he was standin just to make sure he ain’t fall asleep right out there in the water. I ain’t never knowed Headeye to fall asleep at a place, but bein as he is so damn crazy, I couldn’t take the chance.

  Just about that time I hear a funny noise. Headeye, he hear it too, cause he motioned to me to be still. He waded back to the bank and ran down to the broken planks at Deadman’s Landin. I followed him. A couple drops of rain smacked me in the face, and the wind, she was whippin up a sermon.

  I heard a kind of moanin, like a lot of people. I figured it must be in the wind. Headeye, he is jumpin around like a perch with a hook in the gill. Then he find himself. He come to just stand alongside the planks. He is in the water about knee deep. The sound is steady, not gettin any louder now, and not gettin any lower. The wind, she steady whippin up a sermon. By this time, it done got kinda dark, and me, well, I done got kinda scared.

  Headeye, he’s all right though. Pretty soon he call me.

  “Fish-hound?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You better come on down here.”

  “What for? Man, can’t you see it gettin ready to rise?”

  He ain’t say nothin. I can’t see too much now cause the clouds done swole up so big and mighty that everything’s gettin dark.

  Then I sees it. I’m gettin ready to chunk another stick out at him, when I see this big thing movin in the far off, movin slow, down river, naw, it was up river. Naw, it was just movin and standin still at the same time. The damnest thing I ever seed. It just about a damn boat, the biggest boat in the whole world. I looked up and what I took for clouds was sails. The wind was whippin up a sermon on them.

  It was way out in the river, almost not touchin the water, just rockin there, rockin and waitin.

  Headeye, I don’t see him.

  Then I look and I see a rowboat comin. Headeye, he done waded out about shoulder deep and he is wavin to me. I ain’t know what to do. I guess he bout know that I was gettin ready to r
un, because he holler out. “Come on, Fish. Hurry! I wait for you.”

  I figured maybe we was dead or somethin and was gonna get the Glory Boat over the river and make it on into heaven. But I ain’t say it aloud. I was so scared I didn’t know what I was doin. First thing I know I was side by side with Headeye, and a funny-lookin rowboat was drawin alongside of us. Two men, about as black as anybody black wants to be, was steady strokin with paddles. The rain had reached us and I could hear that moanin like a church full of people pourin out their hearts to Jesus in heaven.

  All the time I was tryin not to let on how scared I was. Headeye, he ain’t payin no mind to nothin cept that boat. Pretty soon it comest to rain hard. The two big black jokers rowin the boat ain’t say nothin to us, and everytime I look at Headeye, he poppin his eyes out tryin to get a look at somethin far off. I couldn’t see that far, so I had to look at what was close up. The muscles in those jokers’ arms was movin back an forth every time they swung them oars around. It was a funny ride in that rowboat, because it didn’t seem like we was in the water much. I took a chance and stuck my hand over to see, and when I did that they stopped rowin the boat and when I looked up we was drawin longside this here ark, and I tell you it was the biggest ark in the world.

  I asked Headeye if it was Noah’s Ark, and he tell me he didn’t know either. Then I was scared.

  They was tyin that rowboat to the side where some heavy ropes hung over. A long row of steps were cut in the side near where we got out, and the moanin sound was real loud now, and if it wasn’t for the wind and rain beatin and whippin us up the steps, I’d swear the sound was comin from someplace inside the ark.

  When Headeye got to the top of the steps I was still makin my way up. The two jokers were gone. On each step was a number, and I couldn’t help lookin at them numbers. I don’t know what number was on the first step, but by the time I took notice I was on 1608, and they went on like that right on up to a number that made me pay attention: 1944. That was when I was born. When I got up to Headeye, he was standin on a number, 1977, and so I ain’t pay the number any more mind.

  If that ark was Noah’s, then he left all the animals on shore because I ain’t see none. I kept lookin around. All I could see was doors and cabins. While we was standin there takin in things, half scared to death, an old man come walkin toward us. He’s dressed in skins and his hair is gray and very woolly. I figured he ain’t never had a haircut all his life. But I didn’t say nothin. He walks over to Headeye and that poor boy’s eyes bout to pop out.

  Well, I’m standin there and this old man is talkin to Headeye. With the wind blowin and the moanin, I couldn’t make out what they was sayin. I got the feelin he didn’t want me to hear either, because he was leanin in on Headeye. If that old fellow was Noah, then he wasn’t like the Noah I’d seen in my Sunday School picture cards. Naw, sir. This old guy was wearin skins and sandals and he was black as Headeye and me, and he had thick features like us, too. On them pictures Noah was always white with a long beard hangin off his belly.

  I looked around to see some more people, maybe Shem, Ham, and Japheh, or wives and the rest who was suppose to be on the ark, but I ain’t see nobody. Nothin but all them doors and cabins. The ark is steady rockin like it is floatin on air. Pretty soon Headeye come over to me. The old man was goin through one of the cabin doors. Before he closed the door he turns around and points at me and Headeye. Headeye, he don’t see this, but I did. Talkin about scared. I almost ran and jumped off that boat. If it had been a regular boat, like somethin I could stomp my feet on, then I guess I just woulda done it. But I held still.

  “Fish-hound, you ready?” Headeye say to me.

  “Yeah, I’m ready to get ashore.” I meant it, too.

  “Come on. You got this far. You scared?”

  “Yeah, I’m scared. What kinda boat is this?”

  “The Ark. I told you once.”

  I could tell now that the roarin was not all the wind and voices. Some of it was engines. Could hear that chug-chug like a paddle wheel whippin up the stern.

  “When we gettin off here? You think I’m crazy like you?” I asked him. I was mad. “You know what that old man did behind your back?”

  “Fish-hound, this is a soulboat.”

  I figured by now I best play long with Headeye. He git a notion goin and there ain’t nothin mess his head up more than a notion. I stopped tryin to fake him out. I figured then maybe we both was crazy. I ain’t feel crazy, but I damn sure couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. So I let it ride. When you hook a fish, the best thing to do is just let him get a good hold, let him swallow. Specially a catfish. You don’t go jerkin him up as soon as you get a nibble. With a catfish you let him go. I figured I’d better let things go. Pretty soon, I figured I’d catch up with somethin. And I did.

  Well, me and Headeye were kinda arguin, not loud, since you had to keep your voice down on a place like that ark out of respect. It was like that. Headeye, he tells me that when the cabin doors open we were suppose to go down the stairs. He said anybody on this boat could consider hisself called.

  “Called to do what?” I asked him. I had to ask him, cause the only kinda callin I knew about was when somebody hollered at you or when the Lord called somebody to preach. I figured it out. Maybe the Lord had called him, but I knew dog well He wasn’t callin me. I hardly ever went to church and when I did go it was only to play with the gals. I knowed I wasn’t fit to whip up no flock of people with holiness. So when I asked him, called for what, I ain’t have in my mind nothin I could be called for.

  “You’ll see,” he said, and the next thing I know we was goin down steps into the belly of that ark. The moanin jumped up into my ears loud and I could smell something funny, like the burnin of sweet wood. The churnin of a paddle wheel filled up my ears and when Headeye stopped at the foot of the steps, I stopped too. What I saw I’ll never forget as long as I live.

  Bones. I saw bones. They were stacked all the way to the top of the ship. I looked around. The under side of the whole ark was nothin but a great bonehouse. I looked and saw crews of black men handlin in them bones. There was crew of two or three under every cabin around that ark. Why, there must have been a million cabins. They were doin it very carefully, like they were holdin onto babies or somethin precious. Standin like a captain was the old man we had seen top deck. He was holdin a long piece of leather up to a fire that was burnin near the edge of an opening which showed outward to the water. He was readin that piece of leather.

  On the other side of the fire, just at the edge of the ark, a crew of men was windin up a rope. They were chantin every time they pulled. I couldn’t understand what they was sayin. It was a foreign talk, and I never learned any kind of foreign talk. In front of us was a fence so as to keep anybody comin down the steps from bargin right in. We just stood there. The old man knew we was there, but he was busy readin. Then he rolls up this long scroll and starts to walk in a crooked path through the bones laid out on the floor. It was like he was walkin frontwards, backwards, sidewards and every which a way. He was bein careful not to step on them bones. Headeye, he looked like he knew what was goin on, but when I see all this I just about popped my eyes out.

  Just about the time I figure I done put things together, somethin happens. I bout come to figure them bones were the bones of dead animals and all the men wearin skin clothes, well, they was the skins of them animals, but just about time I think I got it figured out, one of the men haulin that rope up from the water starts to holler. They all stop and let him moan on and on.

  I could make out a bit of what he was sayin, but like I said, I never was good at foreign talk.

  Aba aba, al ham dilaba

  aba aba, mtu brotha

  aba aba, al ham dilaba

  aba aba, bretha brotha

  aba aba, djuka brotha

  aba aba, il ham dilaba

  Then he stopped. The others begin to chant in the back of him, real low, and the old man, he stop where he was, unro
ll that scroll and read it, and then he holler out: “Nineteen hundred and twenty-three!” Then he close up the scroll and continue his comin towards me and Headeye. On his way he had to stop and do the same thing about four times. All along the side of the ark them great black men were haulin up bones from that river. It was the craziest thing I ever saw. Knowed then it wasn’t no animal bones. I took a look at them and they was all laid out in different ways, all making some kind of body and there was big bones and little bones, parts of bones, chips, tid-bits, skulls, fingers, and everything. I shut my mouth then. I knowed I was onto somethin. I had fished out somethin.

  I comest to think about a sermon I heard about Ezekiel in the valley of dry bones. The old man was lookin at me now. He look like he was sizing me up.

  Then he reach out and open the fence. Headeye, he walks through and the old man closes it. I keeps still. You best to let things run their course, in a situation like this.

  “Son, you are in the house of generations. Every African who lives in America has a part of his soul in this ark. God has called you, and I shall anoint you.”

  He raised the scroll over Headeye’s head and began to squeeze like he was tryin to draw the wetness out. He closed his eyes and talked very low.

  “Do you have your shield?”

  Headeye, he then brings out this funny cloth I see him with, and puts it over his head and it flops all the way over his shoulder like a hood.

  “Repeat after me,” he said. I figured that old man must be some kind of minister because he was ordaining Headeye right there before my eyes. Everythin he say, Headeye, he sayin behind him.

  Aba, I consecrate my bones.

  Take my soul up and plant it again.

  Your will shall be my hand.

  When I strike you strike.

  My eyes shall see only thee.