Afro Fade Slave Braid Furor

A group of strangers are put in a situation to confront hatred, or to visualize achievement?

Slowly the lone figure stood to her feet in the quiet tunnel. She looked around in the cold, wet darkness for a hint of anyone or anything. The cavern came back with silence. She reached to her back pocket and pulled out her phone. No signal, but she used the light to see about her. There was nothing.
She steadied her footing and began walking, nowhere in particular. She put the phone away, so as not to run it down. There seemed to be faint hints of visibility running throughout this tunnel, she decided it was better to use that. Finally, in all the mute shadows, she spied another figure. Before she could attempt an inquiry of awareness, the other person spoke.

"Who there?" the voiced said, small and frail.

"I'm Taniqua. Who are you?"

The figure behind the faint voice stepped closer into view. Taniqua looked at the little woman, hunched over, gazing back at her. The woman's clothes were near rags. She was very dirty and was barefoot. In one hand, she held an empty bowl. Taniqua produced the phone once more to illuminate the two of them, so the woman could see her better. The little woman gasped at the light from Taniqua's hand and dropped her bowl, which rolled around on the floor.

"How you do that?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"It's a portable light, from where I'm from. Who are you?"

"I'm Jenny, from the Drywood plantation."

"Plantation?"

"Yes'm, I work the fields at Drywood." 
Taniqua stared at Jenny and put the light away.

"You're a slave."

"Yes'm, I work for massah Claude." Jenny reached down to get her bowl. "Gots ta keep up with mah bowl. It's important." She looked at Taniqua and asked, "where you get that light?"

"It was a present," Taniqua responded. "From my father."

"Yo father?" Jenny puzzled, almost mockingly. "You sho do got pretty hair, all wove up," Jenny said as she reached out to touch Taniqua's weave. "Sho is pretty." 

"How did you get here?" Taniqua asked.

"Dunno," Jenny replied. "I was heading down to the river to get some water and just suddenly seemed to be here. Must'a fallen in a hole or something."

A blustery sounding voice rang out near them.

"All I know is I got my brand new Airs dirty in this hole. Where is the exit? I can't be seen in dirty Airs. Who are you?"

"I'm Taniqua and this is Jenny. Who might you be?"

"I am one unhappy individual in a very dirty and wet cave in my brand new Airs and trotting them in dirt and mud! Which way is out of here?"

"We don't know. We just turned up here the same as you."

"Look! I got mud on my shorts. This is disgusting!" the youth cried.

"I can wipe that out," Jenny said, approaching the young man and beginning to paw at the spot. He looked at her somewhat peculiarly.

"Allright, Aunt Jeejee," that's enough. When's the last time you cleaned your fasionable garments there?"

"Massa lets us wash evy weekend."

"Massa? You got a massa?"

"Anybody around here got a massa, they need to let me know what's up and right now!" the fourth figure arriving on the scene bellowed in an astonishingly demanding voice.

"Lord have mercy," Jenny said as she spied the tall male in incredibly brightly colored garb.

"What flower bed did you just crawl out of?" the previous youth asked, laughing at this fellow's flowery printed get-up.

"No longer will there be slavery among our people," the new character commanded.

"There are no slaves here now," Taniqua stated.

"Ma'm?" Jenny asked, somewhat startled.

"Who are . . . who are you two?" Taniqua asked of the two new guys.

"I'm D'rontell," the first youth said, almost rhythmically.

"What is up with your hair?" the second fellow asked.

"That's my fade, flower pot," D'rontell answered. "You're one to speak with that nuclear mushroom you got goin' on."

"It's an afro, D'Rontell," Taniqua told him.

"For our people and our nation," came the response with an upraised fist.

"If you say so, Black Orchid," D'rontell quipped.

"Who is in charge here? If none of you are, then I will be."

"We don't know yet what is happening," Taniqua said.

"Then I'm taking over, and my name is Deveon, tin can, not black orchid," he said to D'Rontell.

"Then what do you recommend we do, Mister Woodstock?" D'Rontell asked.

"Tanni, bring out your light again, so we can all see better," Jenny said to Taniqua.

Reluctantly, she did so.

"What is that?" Deveon asked, surprised at seeing the lit-up, rectangular object. He was all but ready to remove it from her.

"It's a phone," she answered with hesitation.

"What kind of phone is that?" D'Rontell asked. He reached into his baggy pants pocket and produced a larger phone model, with the antennae. "It looks nothing like mine. That's a calculator, isn't it?"

"What kind of contraption is that?" Deveon asked of D'Rontell's phone. "Let me see that thing." D'Rontell handed the object over to him.

Taniqua observed D'Rontell's phone and asked, "you're from the 1990s, aren't you?"

"From the '90s? Yea, I guess I am. Where you from?"

"2019," Taniqua answered.

"What do you mean? You are both from the future?" Deveon inquired.

"What year are you from, big D?" asked D'Rontell.

"1971," he answered. "So you are over twenty years into my future, and you," he turned to Taniqua, "are almost half a century away."

"So what are we all doing here like this?" D'Rontell chimed.

"But don't forget," Deveon added, 'there's one more."

The trio turned to look at Jenny. She looked back upon them in astonishment.

"You all from far away?" she stuttered.

"Do you know what year you are from?" Deveon asked seriously.

"It's . . . . it's . . . . . 1817. Massa says so," she sniffed.

"Massa," Deveon snarled, turning to Taniqua, "and 1817. She'll always be a slave. She'll never be free."

"We can free her now," D'Rontell said. "You're free now!"

"We still don't know why we are here," Taniqua said.

"So why are we here?" Deveon asked.

Almost as if on cue, a very muffled, indistinguishable voice spoke up in a virtual slobber from the shadows. The quartet turned to the sound to see who or what it might be.

"Gonna be blackface minstrel, isn't it?" Deveon spoke more than inquired. "Taniqua, hold up that light so we can see."

Streams of light curved around the cavern walls as a clearly humanoid form became visible stumbling toward them.

"Is that . . . . ?" Taniqua started.

"It's an Aryan soldier," D'Rontell stated. "We're in a cave with an Aryan soldier."

"No," Deveon whispered, as the unpleasant-looking, bloated figure nervously came closer to the light. "That's Hitler. That's Adolf Hitler."

Upon seeing four African descendants staring back at him, der furer snorted and in an almost gurgling voice, blubbered out words they could not understand, without taking his eyes off of them.

"That can't be Hitler," D'Rontell quietly said.

"Sieg heil," Deveon called out. With those words, the furer perked up as tho someone there had an air of respect for his authority, but the light beam crossing their facades once more showed otherwise. He realized the salute was more as a mockery than anything else. This caused him to shiver in his perspiring condition. He spoke further, but again, in German and none of the others could understand him.

"Well, if it's not Hitler, it's a good likeness," D'Rontell said. "Ugly lookin' scofer, isn't he?"

Der furer spoke some more continuously, incoherent for them to understand.

"Shut up!" Deveon yelled at the man, giving him a start.

"Nein!" he stammered, his lower lip quivering.

Jenny observed everything without knowing. As the conversation progressed and she sought a distraction from the aggression, she had seen water pouring from a nearby crevasse. Nervously she had walked toward it and filled her bowl with splashing cold water. She turned back to the others and, seeking to calm things down, slowly drew near der furer with the bowl of water extended.

"This'll make you bettah, massa, yo be thirsty," she said, struggling with a smile.

Der furer slapped her hand, sending the bowl and its contents across the cavern. Jenny stumbled back as well into the dark, with Taniqua trying to keep her light where the woman could see and be seen.

"No, you don't go hittin' a sistah, Hitler," Deveon growled and lunged at the white man.

Hitler screamed his protests and D'Rontell was all but beside Deveon defending Jenny's attack.

Taniqua was helping Jenny while holding the light up for the others to continue seeing each other.

"This does . . . this does nothing for where we are," Taniqua yelled.

"Oh, lawd," Jenny said, watching the elderly white man being beaten up by two black youth.

"Awright, man, let up," D'Rontell gasped, "let up. At least it isn't some southern plantation fella or something."

"You don't ever strike a black woman!" Deveon yelled at the man on the ground, his arms folded over his head. More German was being spoken to no avail. Now he was spouting his words amid sobs.

"What is that thing doing in here?" Deveon yelled.

"I don't know," Taniqua said back.

"Who . . . who is he?" Jenny asked. "Is he a bad massah?" 

"Why is he here? Why are any of us here?" D'Rontell yelled. It was D'Rontell who spied Jenny's bowl in the barely visible darkness, so he retrieved it, but hesitated giving it to her when der furer spoke some more. 

"SHUT UP!" Deveon yelled back at him.

"Look, let's move out of here, one way or the other," D'Rontell said. Unaware, he was rubbing his hand in the bowl, feeling the water remnants as well as the ancient design of the utensil.

"Don't seem to be nothing to lose, so let's head this way," Deveon suggested and the two women offered no disagreement.

The four people began moving away, into the visionless territory, with illumination provided of course only by Taniqua's phone. Behind them, they heard the dialogue of der furer, but kept going.

"If he wants to follow us, he will," Taniqua said.

"He better not," Deveon commented. Menial chatter in the darkness seemed to suggest he was staying with the group, but at a great distance.

"Well, what does everybody remember last before they came here?" D'Rontell asked. "I was in the park."

"We was on a hiking expedition," Deveon volunteered his information.

"Seems we were all affiliated with the woods or forest at the time," Teniqua deduced. "Jenny said she was also in the woods."

"Yea, I was in the woods, . . . to get water." She wiped her hands on her dress.

Taniqua flashed the light around the rocky surfaces in case something turned up. Gradually, something did.

"There's writing of some kind on the walls, on the rocky surfaces, but there seems to be smooth paneling emerging from the rock," Taniqua said.

"What does that say?" D'Rontell asked, unable to decipher the text.

"I don't know," Deveon said. "Maybe Bozo can read it. is it German?"

"Looks Spanish to me," D'Rontell said, rather disinterested.

A gradually brightening light from up ahead drew the group towards it as Taniqua turned off her own light on her phone.  

"What is that?" D'Rontell asked as the group found their next mystery.

"It seems to be a door," Deveon said, touching and knocking at the item. "A very heavy door."  He grappled with the handle a bit to see if it was locked.

"And there is a window on the door," D'Rontell chimed. With Deveon and Taniqua, he peered into the awaiting location, while Jenny stood in back.

"It's a room, of some sorts," Taniqua noted. The light within the room shined through the glass partition, enabling them to see within.

"Well," Deveon said, as he operated the door handle and began pulling on the door, "let's go in and see where we are."

"Should be better than being in this cave."

Deveon pulled the handle and the heavy-laden door grinded on the floor out of their way. D'Rontell entered with Taniqua and the absolutely perplexed Jenny following, Deveon entering last.

"The whole room, full'a light with no candles," Jenny said, wide-eyed.

D'Rontell looked up at the ceiling and asked, "is it that flourescent light, you think?"

"I think it's electric," Taniqua said.

"Like the outside has come in," Jenny still marveled.

"Well," Deveon said, "now we got to figure out where this room goes. Where exactly do we go from here?"

No sooner had Deveon spoke, the sound of the door scraping back into place behind them was heard, being pushed back into place with metal clicks. Deveon moved to the door to push on it and through the glass paneled window, saw der furer looking back at him from the darkness. Deveon pounded the door, pushing on it, and D'Rontell came over to join him. Both of them together couldn't budge the door.

"He's locked it," Taniqua deduced.

"Open this door, you pathetic little toad!" Deveon screamed, knowing good and well der furer wouldn't understand him.

Outside the room, the stumbling figure was snarling in German, tho no one could comprehend him. He seemed to be boasting, almost confident in what he would do.

"What's he up to?" D'Rontell asked. Der Furer was near a rather archaic console off to the side and was slowly turning a large metal wheel. Rumbling in pipes could be heard.

"He's . . . . " Taniqua began, then observed the small porous areas on the roof above them. "It's a gas chamber like they had during that war! He must have read the writing and realized what it said."

Deveon stared out at the smug fellow while Taniqua, D'Rontell and Jenny looked about, really not sure what to expect. The muffled noise persisted and then was silent. Those who knew seemed to wait to be painfully, unmercifully exterminated, but then they heard a rather subdued hissing sound coming from beyond the door. Deveon watched as smoke became visible in the outer hallway where they had been earlier. Der Furer was screaming in protest, flailing his arms about. He gestured as if he intended to flee the situation. Taniqua and D'Rontell, with Jenny behind them, stepped closer to the window. The pale smoke became thick, looking nearly solid beyond the small glass window. Cries in German could be heard amidst coughs in the smoke, loud, gargling screams.

"He can't see where he is out there anyway," D'Rontell said. "There were no lights, but now he can't see in the smoke either."

"It's gas. The poisonous gas. Got to be. The pipes must have gave way, pouring out there instead of in here," Deveon said.

"Nazi gas chamber in a cave?" Taniqua questioned. "How can this . . . ?"

Before she could finish, a white palm pressed against the glass, followed by the face, eyes bulging, der furer's mouth open, pressing his tongue against the glass.

"Oh, lawd," Jenny fretted, putting her hands to her mouth. Taniqua turned her away from the image. Der Furer stumbled into the smoke, unseen on the floor.

"I guess that finishes him," D'Rontell stated, matter-of-factly. There were a few final kicks and hits at the base of the door.

Deveon inhaled deeply while staring at the choking cloud beyond the glass, then turned to the other three. "So," he said, "now why are we here?"

"To witness the death of the Furer?" D'Rontell answered. "I don't know."

Deveon turned back to the window. "Well, we can't go out that way. Least not now."  

"So is he dead for real?" D'Rontell asked.

"They never did know what become of him after the war, that he might have really been dead or not," Deveon said.

"But if he was still alive, in my time, he'd be one hundred, for you, he'd be in his eighties," D'Rontell noted, "and for you, he'd be over a hundred and twenty."

"Then it wasn't really him," Taniqua said. "Why did we see him? He had nothing to do with African-Americans."

"Not directly," Deveon theorized, "but he did cause the war that brought many black soldiers out of American segregation and saw them learning and realizing and comprehending what they could do in the entirety of the world. He was the cause."

"If he hadn't come to power and caused all those deaths, our grandparents or great-grandparents might still be sharecroppers on farms," D'Rontell stated.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Well, I'm sure not grateful to him for that," Deveon said confidently. 

"Hey," D'Rontell exclaimed, "Taniqua's gone!"

"D'Ron, where did you and Tee take off to? Leavin' me with the mammy here?" Deveon asked.

"Deveon, I'm right here. You can't see me anymore?"

"Where did they go, Jenny?"

The little slave woman didn't answer, still hopelessly confused.

"Taniqua must have been behind this, Deveon. Can't you see me anymore, Deveon?"

All the while, Taniqua stood and observed the past, distant and defined.

"D'Rontell! Taniqua!" Deveon called out.

"I'm right here, man!" D'Rontell yelled back, before gradually fading away.

"I don't understand any of this!" Deveon said, before he too disappeared.

Taniqua pondered her history as a person. Now it all truly was over, pondering these aspects of her past. Already the grey chamber they stood in was beginning to disappear from her view. It was then she heard the sound of scraping behind her. She spun around to see what the cause of the noise might be, and there stood Jenny, half-gazing at her.

"Jenny, can . . . can you still see me?"

"Always knew we would do good," Jenny said. "Always knew one day, one day we would do real good."

As the little woman faded from her presence, Taniqua looked down at Jenny's hand to see her holding her cell phone.

"Jenny, you took, she took my phone," Taniqua clapping her hand on her pocket where the item previously had been. The sky was now blue, the sun shining and the era was about her once more. She smiled approvingly.