The high tides lapped around the ship's blistered belly as we coursed aimlessly along the South American coast. My fiancée and I leaned against the rails on deck inhaling the pleasantly salty air, soaking in the Pacific breeze. Her red hair whipped across her face and back like a flame, her golden speckled eyes kindled an animated spark. I stroked her raindrop-smeared face, wiped away her running mascara and locked her lips with mine. Unconsciously, while I was exploring the plush insides of her mouth a pirate ship was exploring the Amazon River near the coast. Soon their mast would peak out from mist as they gushed from the river into the ocean. It was about as pleasant as an unnatural death could be. Shot thrice in the back while kissing the love of my life...how much could my material possesions really matter at that point?
The clouds scattered loosely in the sky, the salty breeze gently propelled us forward. We were headed towards a lush green coast where last traces of the pirates had been seen. I watched the dull scene from my celestial window, thinking how strange it is to watch one's body amble about the unattainable earth. My body was a pitiless marionette, my sprit the puppet master stuck with a bucketful of strings and zoom option. One in a million Betsy had said. One in a million chance that someone would end up like me. They called it a "grace period", a generous, unexplainable extension of time you have of freedom. Freedom to use your body on earth, freedom to enter and exit different districts, the ability to still have a few last days of your soles impressed against the earth's soil one last time.
It feels like a vacuum, like someone is trying to wrench my heart out of my body. S**t, sharp pain...my body is spiraling away. What's going on?...After about five minutes of the clarity of rollercoaster vision I end up in this dump. It looks like a creepy Chicagoan railroad underpass during the 30's. Well, it is a train underpass and I can't see the end of it on either side. The only source of light is coming from these patches of glass randomly placed on the ground. There are seven windows total, each window looks upon a different continent. This is so weird. There are drops of who know what splashing on my collar. Looming stalactites perch from the rusted tracks, everything is dark and grim. There are few shops here but they're all deserted, one has a shattered door and a flickering LED sign reading CHNSE CUISE, which I'm guessing originally said Chinese Cuisine who knows how long ago. I slowly start walking forward and all of a sudden beams of light shoot out in all directions. I‘m temporarily blinded, I stagger and fall. When I open my eyes at first all I can see are floating purple dots...now I can see this humongous sign hovering in front of me. In perfectly intact LED letters the sign blinks DISTRICT 9, and then RULES OF DISTRICT: GET ALONG WITH DISTRICT MEMBERS, DO NOT REMOVE ANYTHING FROM THE SHOP UNLESS YOU CAN PAY FOR IT, BE REASONABLE WITH WINDOW TIME IF ANOTHER DISTRICT MEMBER SHARES YOUR CONTINENT, DON'T TRESPASS INTO OTHE DISTRICT* I follow the star to a little indecipherable scrawl in the corner of the sign. Before I can read it the sign dissolves into thin air and in front of me appear five very strange animals that seem to have undertaken a major getaway from some exotic zoo. I hope these aren't my "district members"...
"So what are you going to do during your seven day grace period during the time you have with your vaguely humanoid soul?”
"Become a worthy vigilante and undertake acts heroism and revenge, Hamster." Hamster's soul resembled a disgruntled alligator. He stared at me with his lazy droopy-lidded eyes and told me to suite myself. I had just acquainted myself with the members in my district. There was Hamster, Corona, Giordano, Acapella and Betsy. All were strange personalities embodied in animals ranging from the safari to the poles. The only reason I bore with them was because they helped me navigate towards the my public enemy number one. They stole everything away from me, which I was going to gain back in a grand, infallible escapade.
"Seems like there's a coast up no more then a mile ahead..." Acapella remarked wistfully. She still hadn't gotten used to the idea of being detached from earth after seven years of looking down upon her old home from behind the impenetrable European window.
"Thank you Acapella, you might be the only person here who isn't trying to dishearten my cause." The lumbering hippo looked at me sadly and said a welcome along with a self-pitying monologue.
"For Christ’s sake get the hell over yourself! Stop gaining unattractive fatness while moping around the window and do something with yourself.”
This is where a daily squabble would start and I would slink away as to not be caught up in the heat.
It was around dusk when I finally arrived at shore. I settled my ship into an empty lot and set the anchor. It was a small South American village, one spared from the endearing areocentric technology of everywhere else. There was still a thick coat of nature cradling the settlement along with innocent swirls of chimney smoke and radio static. I decided to wander about the little village and embrace the untainted purity.
I spent three hours of aimless walking looking for someone to ask information from. No one here spoke English. Bored of an endless I soon became a customer at the Prancing Mule subject to a loud mouthed, big breasted waitress screaming for an order.
"What'll y'ave sweets?" She practically screamed over the blaring music, shouts, shatters and shuffles.
"An ale and a tid bit of information on your part." I'm pretty sure she took this the wrong way because she stomped her foot on the bench next to me, pinning me up against the wall and leaned in to whisper something about a price. I politely pushed her off and told her the real theme of my question. She took offence, grunted and strode away in a heated mess. Without delivering my beer. So I decided to forget the beer and wander around in pursuit of someone within miles of self-possession.
"Do you have a minute?" I asked a stooped over bearded man.
"How little minutes do you think I have if I'm here?" I chuckled and asked him about the remembrance of a certain clan of pirates. His brow furrowed and he scratched at a zit on his face as he thought.
"Ah yes...black and purple flag, lots of canons...I was bird watching two days ago and saw a ship just of the sorts! It seemed as if it was heading a little more south from here, more towards Fortaleza."
"Do you know a way I can get to Fortaleza from here?"
The next day I was on top of a haystack traveling on a jolting wagon towards Fortaleza. While we lumbered across uneven roads I watched myself perform common human habits produced by boredom. Then out of my own boredom I would zoom out my vision until my body became an insignificant spec then zoomed in until I could count the single pores on my face.
"Well 'ere we are sir!" These little towns were just the places that my fiancée and I had hoped to escape too. We wanted to have a marriage, honeymoon and family upbringing in a place safe from overbearing clouds of smoke, air traffic (which obliterated any type of city bird) and especially the different economy levels of the city that bore into people’s mind. All of it disgusted us and we yearned for the sweet simplicity of the earth's natural gifts.
"Thank you sir." I sort of wandered aimlessly, looking for someone who might now something about these pirates. I figured a pub would be a good place to start. It took a while to find a pub considering the neighborhood I was dropped off into was a posh, refined neighborhood with cocktails and social statuses held at high value. It was even modernized with only slightly older hovercrafts zipping across the scene, transporting dressed up socialites.
Finally I reached a place where gutters overfilled slightly and specs of dirt were allowed to mantle the cobblestones. I knew I was near the area I wanted to be in when a group of smashed teens staggered past me. So I entered an over filled pub with sparse lights, topless women roaming about and laughing ruddy faced sailors. I sat down on the counter, and this visit actually received a drink from a very nice bartender. She slid me a beer and asked if there was anything more she should could do for me. I found myself stammering. The more I zoomed in on this oddly reminiscent face the more I became unnerved. Her cinnamon colored hair, expanse of freckles, inviting emerald eyes brought images of Lucy Althea Morton. Something cracked the impassive shell about me. I burst in tears in front of her. She became an opaque collage of my favorite colors. I expected her to leave me until I collected myself.
"Who's the girl?" I slowly elevated my head from the cradle of my clammy hands to meet her compassionate gaze.
"Sh-she was my fiancée." A sweet, nightingale laughter tinkled in the back of my mind. Planning a marriage in Brazil with the most beautiful woman alive replayed in my head.
She took my hand, walked around the counter and led me upstairs.
"Diego what do you think of this town? It’s called Tabatinga...look at the landscape! When was the last time you saw something this green bigger than a crayon? The air must be divinely pure, I really think this is the place."
"It looks amazing, it'll be great to start up our family." She holds my face in between her long, slim fingers and looks into my eyes. We share a moment with many unspoken words interchanged.
"You know Diego, its ridiculous how much I love you."
"You know Lucy, if you decided to live in a tank full of piranhas, I would pull on my oxygen mask, muster up the balls…and follow. Now tell me how much I love you isn’t ridiculous.”
"Ridiculously creative, I find that romantic." She giggles and breathes onto my neck. I pull her face closer to mine and I gently share a kiss with her, I move down to her neck, embracing the placid curves, gleaming with an ancient Greek beauty. I slip her shirt lower; I feel the smooth, silkiness of her chest, the subtle bumps of her collarbone. We are soon one; we are rising and falling, entering in a psychedelic nirvana.
I woke up tangled in sheets with a ten-pound check and a folded up piece of paper on my chest.
You talk in your sleep, heard of some pirates down by Mariacha harbor. Hope you find her.
Take care.
I surprisingly didn't feel guilty about what I had done last night. To me it was as if that woman was merely a host to my fiancée’s soul. She was a window to accessing Lucy. So with the weight of longing shifted off my shoulders I left the inn with even more drive. But it was burning quietly inside of me. It wasn't like I could loudly burst out the door, twirl my cloak, grab a horse and gallop off into the sunset...my means were a little more simple. I just had my body clad in tattered clothes. The only thing that set me apart from the other commoners milling about setting was the uncommon glint in my eye and uncommonly upright stature. I didn't exactly get looka of admiration, but more a look of unsettled qualm by passer-byers. I looked like a hobo trying to pass off as royalty. But at the moment I wasn't thinking about first impressions, I was thinking about seeing the graceful loping curves of her body, finding it and embracing her soul. I needed to find her body in order to bring her soul to my district. I had only a one more day left to do this.
I finally got to Mariacha harbor after asking several people who led me in opposite directions. I walked over to a small cherub faced man carrying cargo to a ship. I stopped him and asked of the whereabouts of the pirate ship. He told me that I could find someone who did business with them in the Casa Rosa. The man was dubbed the Fairy Godfather; supposedly he was able to grant wishes and complete transaction with a magical ability to please both sides of the handshake. I found him by his trademark of a hunched back and large, Dumbo ears. I tapped his shoulder and I made out another one of his marks, a grotesque looking cleft lip cleaving his mouth in two. His grin stretched the gap and showed of the jumble of teeth.
"Can I help you?"
"Um...yeah...I hear you're familiar with a certain pirate group...?" He looked at me as if I were an idiot. It was then that I realized I would have to stress other measures on this man before I chose the latter. I took a good handful of his blouson and drew him uncomfortably close to me.
"Now listen...Fairy Godfather, you have a very important choice to make, because unfortunately you can’t make everyone happy right now. You can choose a bunch of one toothed, unhygienic, illiterate inbred morons or me. I beg that you take care." I flicked out my knife and let it very subtly hid it under his collar and pressed ever so slightly against his neck. No one noticed. He shuddered and nodded his head.
"A_Alright...their called the Capricorns...they harbor just Northwest of here, up the pebble beach. They hide out in a little cave only I know of...I will have to show you..."
"Alright, take me there."
"Give me five minutes."
"Why do you need the time?"
"To call them, to prepare them for my visit...they won't open their door otherwise."
"I'll be there when you make the call."
"Fine." He dialed the number and called them, said that he had some slight concerns on cocaine he was selling to them, told them he had an updated version, more refined. After the call we took a carriage to the outskirts of the town where the beach was. The ocean lapped onto the uneven shore then pulled back, lapped again...and unbreakable, steady routine that calmed me. The Godfather was just telling me about his business with the King of England when I saw someone dressed in all black shrink behind a rock. I swung around just in time to get two bullets to my arm. My body fell to the ground and I watched as the Godfather chuckled and told me that a cocaine transaction had never occurred and to be more attentive to lying scoundrels with codes like himself. The stretch of his cleft lip gave me so much sickened motivation to spring up and punch him in the face...so I did. I was well beyond the feeling of pain. My body took the blows like the resilient nine headed snake Hercules was set against. So I stood up, first flamboyantly swung myself in front of three approaching bullets that hit me in the chest, head and leg, then, not crumpling up as expected I lunged for the nonplused hunchback and knocked him to the ground. I then quickly took care of the hitman. Once I got the full satisfaction of the Matrix scene I pulled the Godfather back up from the ground and told him once again that it would be unwise to mess with me. The shivering bundle of a man led me with no further interruptions.
"H-here it is..." We stopped in front of what seemed to be just another cliff face along the shore. But after a rhythmic knock a rectangle cracked into the rocky surface and large door slowly cranked forward.
"What do we owe the pleasure dear Fairy?" A slithering voice inquired. It was a heavily coated British accent. He had a clean-shaven face adorned with multiple scars, a thin, bent nose and prominent deepest callous eyes that scanned the hunchback disinterestedly. This is when my body sprung out from its hiding place and socked the man right in the face. Before I knew it six other figures sprung out from the dark depths of the unwelcoming cave and tore me away from my prey and almost carelessly shot the Godfather for his disloyalty. I was soon shot, stabbed; punched, kicked...every possible assault was tested on me. I was a unyielding Guinea Pig. When they realized that nothing was affecting my body they ran. I caught one of them by the collar and simultaneously strangled him while pulling him to where I stood.
"Do you remember me?" He shook his head frantically while his face started to turn purple and he squirmed like a worm. I released my grasp so he could speak.
"Well one day you decided to loot me and my fiancée’s ship,” a look of recollection dawned upon him, "You know we were going to get__”
"Hot damn…”
“What?”
“Y-you supposed to b-be dead. Oh my G-God that girl…wait we saw you die…and that girl scammed you. She wasn’t actually gonna marry you man!” I was quite in shock. In shock for this near-death, redneck’s stupidity. The barrel bodied, scarcely toothed man didn't seem like the suicidal type.
"Would you care to elaborate on that before I slit your throat?" I growled through clenched teeth.
"Sh-she scammed you man...I'm sorry, I really am...but she scammed you." I slapped him across the face and asked where they dunked her body. He stammered and this time I punched him in the face.
"She ain't dead man!" He sputtered through coughed up blood, "sh-she ain't dead...she's in the cave." I started laughing with tears rolling down my eyes. I laughed that he dared to try and say that my fiancée had been with me for two years of kisses, gifts, lovemaking and marriage plans to one day get me killed by some egotistical, demented pirates. It didn't seem like he got the humor in the situation.
"Sh-she's the captain's w-wife...th-they pl-players. Th-they get her t-to play them then they c-come and kill them like you…look man! I swear I didn’t do nothin! I had part in this!”
I took out my knife and stabbed him.
"He-her name w-w-was Jenifer Mariah Parsley...n-n-not Lu-Lucy Al-Althea Morton." Where his last words. Her name stung me like thin sheets of ice had slicing my flesh off. Like a delusional caveman, I stumbled into the cave. There she was. Caught red handed, desperately trying to stuff leftover gold in her sack before her escape. She begged for me to spare her in a pool of tears, uncombed hair and a distressed posture, crumpled on the floor beneath me. At that moment I thought about all those years...all the glass figures from Venice, all the Friday night massages, all the Tango classes, all the lipstick kisses filled to boiling point brim with deceit...in fact overflowing. Each time she made love to me, she really made love to that slime ball, lowlife b*****d who led a pirate ship and felt all mighty. Then I thought how I was actually going to marry her. I pictured it with a flickering eye.
She is more beautiful then ever; her neck is a Corinthian pillar to the head of a goddess. Her face is perfectly sculpted, her lips, nose perching above, eyes like peacock feathers on a divinely white and smooth canvas. Her auburn locks are piled upon her head; loose strands embrace the elegant curves of her neck which then leads to her milky smooth chest and tantalizing cleavage. He doesn't dare look at her in fear that direct eye contact will make the angel spread out her wings and fly away. He is so awed by the spectacle before him that he barely hears the priest rambling in front of them until the important part comes. He clears his throats and dares to look into the emerald windows of the goddesses’ face. He stumbles over his pledge. Her milk and honey smooth voice begins hers.
"I Lucy Althea Morton, take you Diego Laurence Applegate, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish 'till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness."
I thought about the little snippet, black and white, scratchy, splattered sporadically with black splotches. A jazzed up processional music, scratched by age is the last thing I here as the scene slowly fades out. I smile wryly...I feel strings tugging on me. I see the sun has started its descent and my day is done. There's a rumbling in my soul, my vision is shaking and then goes black.
When I reawake my body is pale, cold-blooded and dead.
This is where we part my beloved.
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