Woman Overboard

Chapter 5 : Pigs (3)

Jaiye

August 22nd, 1820

(9:28 AM)

Jaiye wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead, watching the crew labor over sails and ropes. The work had become even more difficult, as there weren't enough jobs to go around. Every once in awhile, Jaiye would hear the thunk of two sailors tripping over each other followed by numerous apologies. Though the deck was spacious, the men found themselves crowded in the same little area, trying to do the same work.

Mary Ann had taken as many crew members as could down below deck to help clean and scavenge for supplies for Aless's crew to use. The white men, however, were reluctant to leave the deck and therefore made the operation one hundred percent more difficult.

Afiba and Alessandra were below deck, reviewing plans or maps or something. Jaiye wasn't too sure. But in their absence, he, Reece, and a man called Edward were left to govern the men above deck.

He recognized Edward. He was the man who had snapped at him for trying to bandage the little girl's arm last night. Edward himself gave no indication of recognition, side from a volley of warning glares and disapproving grimaces.

Jaiye sighed, sitting back on his barrel. He didn't like this arrangement at all. He felt like the white men were constantly judging him, constantly trying to intimidate him into reverting to the compliant slave boy he had once been.

"Hey," said his brother. Reece gave him a slap on the back, taking a seat on a neighboring barrel. "Whewee, it's hot out 'ere. How you still got yer shirt on, Jayjay? This ain't no weather for that."

He nodded. The fabric of his shirt stuck to his back and stomach like a magnet, stifling him in its tight grasp. But if he took it off, he would reveal the ugly canvas of scars on his back, an unwelcome reminder of what white men had done to him.

Reece himself sported some pretty gruesome marks, but paid them no mind. He scratched his head, running his fingers through his afro. "You's quiet today."

Again, he nodded. He felt as though the moment he spoke every white ear on deck would perk up to listen, and he felt compelled to withhold whatever he could from them, even if it was the the open door of his words.

"Aww c'mon," Reece complained, giving his hair a ruffle. Jaiye scowled, leaning away. "Aye, somebody drank th' cranky coffee this morn'." With that, Reece offered a half smile, a bridge Jaiye chose not to cross, and walked away with a shrug that said, I tried.

He watched Reece mold himself back into the crowd, shouting out orders and gentle reprimands to the men. What he wouldn't give to be Reece, encapsulated by that impenetrable dumb confidence that his brother carried so casually. Reece never doubted that he had a place in the world, or that he would always be free, or that what was his would always be. He strode through life with a smile on his face and a blurry could of obliviousness surrounding him.

Sometimes, he wondered if Reece's ignorance was a different kind of intelligence. It certainly seemed that way at times like these. Being deaf to the shouts of his ancestors, being blind to the segregated landscape in front of him, having his tongue dumb to cruel words and his skin removed of past pains seemed like it would be the biggest blessing in the world today.

Jaiye allowed himself to smile, watching Reece giving Hany a hand with the rope she was trying to pull. He knew he shouldn't envy his brother. Rather, he should sit back and enjoy him while life allowed him to.

Suddenly, a cry erupted from the quarterdeck, the vicious shout of pain ringing out over the deck like a bell. Another roar followed it, this one a vengeful scream, followed by the sound of air leaving a set of lungs. Jaiye sprang to his feet, looking left and right for the source of the noise.

He caught sight of Edwin on the quarterdeck, his hands locked on the shoulders of an unfamiliar white man. The other man grunted with effort, shoving Edwin back. "Don't you touch me, you pig!"

Edwin's nostrils flared, the veins in his neck and forehead jumping out like threads on a spider web. He released a furious roar, rushing toward the white man with his head down like a charging bull.

"Stop! Stop it!" Reece cried, shoving his way through the overcrowded foredeck. "Edwin, don't --"

But neither man listened.

"Dont -- you -- dare -- call -- me -- a -- pig!" shouted Edwin between blows. He pinned the man to the deck, his huge fists landing on alternate sides of his face with every punch. The man wheezed, but did not give up.

"Pig!" he yelled. "Vermin! Get off of me, you dirty negro!"

"Hey! Get off of 'im, Eddy!"

A crowd had gathered around the two, evenly split between blacks and whites. Some cheered on their own crewmate while others yelled for them to stop. Jaiye pushed his way forward, trying to reach the inner ring of the circle for a better view of the action.

Favors had shifted by the time he reached the front. Now, the white man had Edwin in a headlock and was ramming his skull into the ground again and again as Eddy screamed in protest, his body fidgeting in resistance like a fish flopping in a waterless pail.

"Enough!" Reece called, shoving Jaiye aside to reach the fight. Before he could stop him, Reece launched himself into the brawl.

"Hey!" Jeered a white man. "That's not fair, it's two against one, now."

A cry of agreement followed. Suddenly, the circle dissipated into chaos as more and more men threw themselves into the throes of battle, screams and grunts and insults filling the air like acid rain.

Jaiye backed away, his heart thrumming wildly as his friends lunged into a fight they could never hope to win. We can act as one crew, he heard Captain Broderick saying as Charles landed another blow on a face and Paki keeled over, taking a heel to his stomach. In this crew, there were two worlds, and both of those worlds could never dream of fitting onto this one vessel.

He looked over the landscape of bloodied, bruised bodies and sighed. They could escape slavery, but they would never be able to escape their own skins.