Twenty Birds on The Wire a novel ariellopez

      It was a crisp February morning as I gazed through the glass door all I could see was blue sky.

While still in bed pondering what the day would bring; these had been the most trying of times.

Another birthday had just passed the previous week and with it all the years of loneliness.

Seeping through the festering wound was this insistent thought that I had to evolve.

And as such I had to recognize the animal that had been hiding under my skin. As foul and degenerate as it was, it and I were the same.

Where and how we became one would be the eternal question. I suspect it might have been in the slums of Bogota or maybe the shanty towns of Kingston. Somewhere along the way as I lay asleep it crawled under my skin.

The volume and the frequency of my internal warfare were too much to go unnoticed. It became clear to me as my actions and my conscience quarreled.

I had grown up with all the love of and affection a rosy cheeked well-mannered little boy can expect.

But how and why did I let myself become undermined after all; I had an army filled with five star generals from all the tragic incursions that time and dust couldn't part.

Ending strung up on the rope gasping for breath how lamentable was that.

The birds are gone.....

 

 

     As the storm subsided all we could hope for was a beam of light to pierce the grey that had been.

Intensely we waited for reassurance that the sand had not eaten the beach out of existence.

For it had been at the beach were the lovers had met and if there was no beach how can there be romance. And without romance how could they exist.

And if they didn't exist then all they had created was a mirage if the beach was gone.

This is how I see. Not by sight, but guided by the smell of salt in the air and the shadows of the sun as it comes in and out of my day.....

 

     The rocks in the distance seemed to be protruding more and more as if we were getting closer to them.

Yet we were standing still.

Was it an optical illusion?

No it was the sea subsiding, the foamy turquoise blue water was receding back home.

Holding unto each other’s hand interlacing our fingers, not too tight but just tight enough to transmit the kind of cosmic energy that says: "I would walk across the sea to be with you."

We walked along the shore toward the rocks; soon we would be lying on the sand near the jetty.

The sound, it was immense the crashing waves, the sea spray.  It was intoxicating as was the smell, her smell. Oh the odor it was that of the sun and emeralds all glistening of joy and musk.

Running my fingers thru the curls of her sun colored hair as I gently caressed the back of her neck all I could think of is how delicate she was.

Drop after drop I felt the wetness but knew not where from it came. Slowly my eyes opened and there she was, a girl not just any girl, but my girl. The one destiny had cast my way and then the rain consumed us.

Craving as we all do for the flesh, this was my first bite into the apple.

And so the road turns.....

 

 

     Before I continue with this treeless forest of a story; let me tell you about myself so that if it’s me you are tortured by you will have an image to guide you.

I was born Tomas de la Candelaria Ramirez in a small hillside municipality of Agüimes in the Canary Islands of the west coast of Africa. Thirty five Januaries ago. I am one hundred ninety and a half centimeters tall, my weight usually around a hundred Kilos, high cheekbones a strong chin all balanced by my castaño wavy hair and eyes all encompassed by my olive colored skin.

Growing up my friends called me Tom.

Ours was a fishing village. All my relatives fished the Atlantic and all did the same from cradle to the grave the opportunities for something else were nonexistent.

I was saddened and tormented by the early knowledge that I would have to follow my father’s footsteps.

As a teenager I was drawn to the ships: the tall sails, the mast, their teak, the gloss of the metal, the foreigners that came and went the whole enterprise.

My grandfather Modesto was a goat farmer he had the kindest blue eyes. He would always speak to me about his Dulcinea and how he had lived all of his summers with regret of what could have been. Theirs was an impossible romance.

It struck me like a bolt of lightning and the cinders never died. The importance of a life without regret this was to be his legacy.

Never ever let opportunities pass you by, for if you do your soul will suffer.

The opportunities come.....

 

 

     Sitting under a mature and verdant olive tree, the idea started to become flesh. It might have been the warm caress of the Sahara winds that blow in the summer mixed with the aroma of the ripening olives. Something inside me was changing and I would never be the same.

Late June or early July, I couldn't tell you for as long as I can remember time and I haven't been friends. It was definitely in the summer when I devised my escape from the rock.

I had through the years helped my grandfather sell cheese and goat milk to the passengers in the ships and the gantry workers on the docks. Not aware of it as it was happening rather later in life I would warmly remember and recognize that it was through this labor that the bond between my grandfather and me grew. I always wonder how much of him there is in me.

And as such I was Tom the goat kid! Even though I wasn't a kid anymore, at sixteen the lines between man and child are blurred.

There was this particular ship, the Magdalena ,she was a multipurpose cargo ship. She was eighty five meters long; not large by cargo ship standards. It was all blue steel except for the deck, it was green. Her portholes were copper and all had turned green.

I was familiar with the Magdalena. I would as a cachoro run through the galleys and sneak into the staterooms. I knew the ship like the back of my hand. As my grandfather delivered his goods I would roam through the ship imagining myself on the open ocean on some journey.

The captain was a portly man in his mid-sixties he had a scruffy beard and always wore a cap, the kind seaworthy man wear, his name was Fernando. He looked rough and tough although I had known him for several years and can attest to him being soft and warm hearted. His outward projection only served to protect him from what I knew not.

And the journey begins.....

 

 

     This undertaking of mine wasn't easy it's the substance of spy novels.

I waited for the feast of Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria, she is our patron saint and the town celebrates for two weeks.

Everyone comes although no one is invited; they just show up like moths to the flame.

I confided my plans to my cousin Ana. She and I had a special bond having lost our mothers at an early age; mine to the sanitarium and hers to the eternal peace.

Our bond grew as the years wore on as only fear and desperation can foster.

Off to the bay we went early one morning fishing in a small skiff or at least I did she went for the sun. She was always such a coquette.

I was nine and she was twelve. I remember it clearly because school had just set out for Easter break.

As the day wore out we suddenly found ourselves far from shore the weather started to turn, as it does around this time of the year. All of the sudden bobbing like an apple in the inclement weather; the sea was angry.

Frightened and cold, she took charge telling me to put on my life vest and grab an oar. We turned the boat into the waves and kept it from breaking apart.

 

She reassured me that all would be well. We set out to pray and just as it had come from nowhere it went the sea was our friend once again.

Brief yet scary however she was calm and serene as I was frightened out of my skin.

Ever since I think a part of me started to look at her as a surrogate mother. She was certainly a heroine in my eyes.

Expressing to her that leaving the island and experiencing the world was a thirst I had to quench I wanted to feel like Christopher Columbus and discover the world for my own.

Sneaking into the Magdalena and hiding in the engine room when they were all enjoying the festivities was my plan, she said that I was crazy and believed I wasn't going to go through with it.

And the plan unfolds.....

 

 

     Going through town like an Olympian without a torch; I visited my friends and relatives in preparation for my departure. 

 

Pleaded with Bartolo, the baker, to make the Sunday crackers that I so loved. Being a Tuesday it took some arm twisting though not a problem; being persuasive is like breathing for me.

I waited for dawn to break, there would be enough sunlight. Although they were all in a drunken stupor and wouldn't be awake till mid-morning.

I went down by the seaside with a sack filled with provisions not knowing how long I would have to hide. I brought enough Sunday crackers, Serrano ham, and obviously my grandfather’s famous goat cheese.  Some pears and a jug of water. I was hoping it would last me until we were offshore and a retreat would be unlikely.

The hardest part was sitting down with my abuelo Modesto and saying adios when we both knew the truth was goodbye forever.

As I began to tell him; he said "mi niño I know it’s time when you are as old as me you can sense these things." What transpired afterwards has been engraved in the infinite expanse that is my brain.

We stared at each other and without uttering a word he transmitted to me that I was the extension of time that he had yearned for. I was his dreams and hope incarnate.

As I walked down the boardwalk and up the dock I sensed that the palm trees and the hawks, anything with life and lack thereof was staring at the center of the back of my head. It felt as if all the inhabitants; those with souls and the ones without were using all there might to hold me back from taking one more step towards my escape. A magnet like force tugged at me an appendage onto the land they couldn't part from, yet I felt so drawn to the adventure the little boy in me would win.

Wondering as you might if I parted with my sweetheart in good terms. I would have to tell you having known that this day would undoubtedly come I never afforded myself the luxury of falling in love.

With a smile from ear to ear, I approached the ship maybe my nerves maybe I was truly happy this I knew courage is moving forward when fear and comfort seduce you.   

Onward into the ship.....

 

     The rot in my soul began as the odyssey breathed. My cardinal sin was the selfish act of abandonment.

Leaving all; leaving it all behind.

Steadily I walked like a Roman into battle. One more step and I was in the ship, as soon as I crossed the threshold into the Magdalena I was forever changed.

I quickly made my way down to the engine room. I opened the bulkhead door quiet as a church mouse. I hid in a metal cabinet and made the best of it for now.

I would wait and see the usual comings and goings of the ship to make my next move.

In the afternoon the ship set sail and I had no clue where it was headed although I was ecstatic.

"In three days’ time we will be in Portugal" I heard Fernando the captain tell and older man. I think he said his name was Boligan, he was the ships cook, an Italian from Bologna. I recognized his voice.

My abuelo had dealt with him throughout  the years, him being in charge of the commissary. I couldn't see them; all I could do was hear them. Keen as I was on the smell I knew that the cook had a fascination for French perfume. I knew it was him.

The sea as we reached the outer fringes of the coast past our bay and further than our fisherman dared go. It's where we were and sea sick, home sick misery was mine.

At the croosroads of danger and excitement; it’s then that you are alive.

As this chapter winds down you would think: all rosy cheeked well-mannered little boys only dream of bounty.  But I would leave you with this kernel of wisdom: little boys yearn for adventure.

Knowing that no one makes it out alive; I thrust myself into the winds of change.

Adventure here I come.....

 

     Hours…..how many I don't know. My legs would get numb form the rigid state; the lack of movement was intolerable.

Pain crept up from the sole of my foot to just below my knee. I couldn't take it anymore and out of desperation I removed myself from my safe, yet painful confine.

I was now exposed. Luckily, if my calculations were correct we were far enough; retreat was unlikely.

My first encounter was with Fernando. His eyes opened to the point I thought they would leave their sockets. His jaw stayed opened for what I thought was an eternity. He began to gasp for air and I just stood there with a grin from ear to ear. His words were hard to understand, still gasping he stuttered: "mi mi mi hijo what have you done?  What have you done? When your grandfather finds out he will kill me if I survive Genaro. He will surely skin me alive if you are discovered."

"Come if you are to hide. We need to find somewhere for you my child; we are both in danger if you are found. You volunteered me without my permission into this mess. Ay carajo mi hijo!"

He motioned for me to follow him and I knew he would take care of me. My instincts were true he was warm hearted.

He led me down to the back of the ship to a storage room. He said that this was as good as it got under the circumstances. I told him I still had some food that I had brought but he said that Boligan had made a great casserole of Fabada and that I needed warm food.  He would bring me some when all were asleep.

Opportunity shows up maybe if you are lucky once in your life. Grab it.  Make it yours. Asphyxiate it. Put it out like a match; the lack of your plunge will torment you beyond repair.

I heard my abuelos words like the church bells of my adored little hillside hamlet of the Atlantic. Insistent these thoughts were, I was so driven it was frightful.

Apparently Fernando was spotted by Mercurio. He was the ships latest arrival, young and trying to make his way up the food chain by currying favors with Genaro. He was eager to give me and Fernando up; the bottom feeders are never far miserable beings they.

I was brought to the deck were this devil of a man wanted my flesh he wanted me gone erased this was manageable as he saw it.

He scorned and abused my savior Fernando. He threatened him at one point he took out his Sevillana and placed it on his Adam's apple. He held it there and screamed "maricon what we will do now,  we will all be exposed our secret will be no more."

"Once you were and now no more!" Is what Genaro growled at me!

Not moving until the wind pushes me; otherwise as steady as the wick.

Submissive only to my maker.

I stood like the hills that bore me like the sky and the sun I held my ground.

Treason transforms you.....

 

     This beast crawled out of the gutter.

Holding my savior by his short hairs and desirous to send him to meet his maker; all on my account.  I felt so dirty, complicated. How did this impulse of mine now become the brimstone to this kind man?

Genaro said that he would kill us or at least that's what I understood as he motioned for me to walk the plank.  Still holding his razor sharp Sevillana on the neck of the captain, I thought he was in charge. Slowly I would learn the hierarchy of this vessel and hence my station in life or at least at this passage.

With all I could muster from the pit of my stomach I implored him to free Fernando from his death grip. I begged him to listen to me: he looked up at me with his grey cold eyes and said these words.  "What do you know about life, who are you to talk to me in what condition do you ask of me what's in it for me?" I told him that Fernando was not involved in my adventure.

He didn't care he was fuming he needed his pound of flesh and being this cold calculated venomous being he said " if I spare your lives you are mine. Your loyalty is to me I own you today, I will give you what you crave."

One more breath.

 

With lighting rapture he removed the knife from Fernando's neck and in the same violent motion, with surgical precision; he cut of the top digit of Fernando's right hand. His smallest phalanx was now gushing rose colored liquid; the rubies of his life spilling on to the deck. This I thought is as naked as one can be.

Fernando looked up as if to say why? Genaro knew, I knew, Mercurio knew. All present knew without uttering a word, this gentle soul in his state of agony wanted an answer. And with Machiavellian wit.

Genaro replied.

"If you were a loyal being as you profess to be to our family and our crest at first sight of this wretched soul you should have tossed him overboard. You, you, you my brother exposed us all our families! Our comfort, our way of life was at the mercy of your indiscretion and as the wolves on this pack; we are not ourselves but rather the collective."

"Never let your emotions place us in jeopardy, for if you do" and this he growled to all present, "a pound of flesh will be expected of you or yours for your sensitivities."

Passion feeds the predator.....

 

     Ten paces to the end of the plank.

 

I was like a bird on the perch.

Shaking like a leaf I started to utter these words.

 

At first I thought it was someone else speaking slowly I recognized the sound of my own voice.

 

"I fear you I do, I swear. Kill me, send me to the deep; nonetheless my purpose lives on. The desire to overcome will manifest itself. I am not me. Rather the manifestation of those who came before me. And there desire is strong. Do away with me and destiny will ensure that we meet again."

As I spoke these words he recognized me. He knew who I was. I was his adversary natured in love but built by the fire. And like a predator he recognized his own kind.

Grinding my teeth to the point of almost locking my jaw. I swore by the emeralds of my savior that I will overcome. I swore this to the most sacred thing I knew. Myself.

He said "what have you to bargain?"

I looked at him as Ahab looked at Moby.

"Nothing. Only the eternal solitude that when the time comes you will be slain by a mightier force than thee."

The wind and nothing else.....