26. CRACKING SKULLS IN PORTISHEAD
PT Seven
BY Tony M Richards
He took deep breaths of stale, stagnant air...... ....... Air from centuries past.
Antonio staggered through the maze of arteries that lead from The Head of Zues to the outside world. Antonios pain felt like a dull burn across his body..... His mind also......
....... The Christmas of '68 was a dark time for Antonio M Richards. As always, Uncle Frank had consumed way to much booze.....
The luxurious christmas dinner couldn't hide the tension; it was only alcohol that could dull the pain....
Once the pain had been dulled, tongues were loosened and the truth emerged. As always, Antonios mother and Uncle Frank began arguing over Antonio's father.
Auntie Jill quickly moved Antonio into the lounge to watch television and avoid the inevitable; Bob Monkhouse was hosting the Golden Shot Christmas special........
They could still hear the argument from the next room, even with the television set cranked up a few notches.
"HOW COULD YOU HAVE DONE IT?!!" Yelled Uncle Frank as he pounded the table with his fist, making the cutlery jump violently. "HOW COULD YOU HAVE SLEPT WITH A BLACK MAN?! WHERE'S YOUR SELF RESPECT GIRL?! DID YOU EVER HAVE ANY IN THE FIRST PLACE?!"
"BECAUSE I LOVED HIM! I FUCKING LOVED HIM FRANK! CAN'T YOU GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK HEAD?! JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE MONEY, IT GIVES YOU NO REASON TO JUDGE ME!"
Auntie Jill just stared ahead at the television- Pretending she couldn't hear what was transpiring in the next room. Avoiding what was being said. Hoping it would abate. Hoping the floor would open up and swallow her down into an abyss. No such luck- Hell was closed on Christmas day.
"THEY-ARE-MONKEYS!" Shouted Uncle Frank.
"YOU-CAN-TAKE-THE-MONKEY-OUT-OF-THE-JUNGLE- YOU-CAN'T-TAKE-THE-JUNGLE-OUT-OF-THE-MONKEY!"
Antonio had walked unnoticed into the hallway and stood against the wall like a naughty boy; tears poured down his face. A young boy, wishing for death. His mother chastised for sleeping with a monkey and producing Simian offspring.
Who the fuck calls a small boy a wild ape?!
Could somebody really be so cruel?! This....
This was humanity at its most wicked..... ...... Evil.
Pure evil...... Scarred.....
....... Antonio had been scarred for life.
And what now?
These strange memories of Christmas '68 haunted Antonio as he staggered down the long maze of dimly lit pathways. Past the flickering gas lamps...
Past the heads of lost souls....
These souls trapped in jars, perched on wooden shelves; the jars hovering constantly underneath the low ceilings....
..... Hell.
It occurred to Antonio that he was trapped in Hell.... Now he was attempting to escape....
Had others attempted to escape before? Certainly nobody had ever managed to escape. How could they? He asked himself. Over and over.....
...... Inside his head.
....... Soundbites from the past on constant loop; it was as if these gruesome sounds were trapped on a short spool of tape that rotated onwards constantly, playing inside his battered skull....
Had Antonio a knife, he would have made an incision into his own scalp and broken through the skull; he would have pulled the bloodied tape out with his own broken fingers!
..... He was haunted.
For a moment in time, Antonio felt all the remaining energy he had drain from his entire body. He dropped the makeshift cane and slumped down against the stone wall beneath the shelves.
....... Defeated.
He considered what it was worth to carry on....
Why not accept his fate?
What was left for him on the surface that lay above? It was just as savage as the hell below that Antonio was now trapped in. Maybe he should wait to be captured again? What's done is done, he thought. Why not wait to be slaughtered and hope that a peace awaits him on the otherside.....
"MONKEY! MONKEY! MONKEY! MONKEY!"
Uncle Franks words echoing around his head, escaping from his ears, bouncing off the stone walls, down past the maze of corridors and heads squashed into glass jars......
Now Antonio lay lifelessly on the dusty, stone ground..... Lost in the maze and lost in the past.....
Uncle Franks haunting words were enough to make him reconsider....... Emotions raced through him, tears pouring down his swollen face..... He would have gritted his teeth if he had any left........
Was this god's wish?
Was this how his life was supposed to end?
Antonio wasn't going to die..... Not like this......
He pulled himself up and soldiered on, determined to not let his legacy be that of a "brain-dead monkey".....
"A little black cunt".......
"A wog"..........
Uncle Frank was wrong.....
Dead wrong.....
Unkle Frank was uneducated; a fucking idiot in other words- Uncle Frank was the monkey......
A strange, unidentifiable force propelled Antonio down the dark, low-slung corridors- Some sort of freak power! A determination blown into Antonios empty body from a phantom force!
Was this god's intervention?!
Finally.......
Antonio had no time to ponder, that could wait.......
He seemed to float along, his legs and spine numb......
His mind had finally hit survival mode and turned off the past that haunted him; the past that was stopping him from re-surfacing.....
And there it was........
He stared up at the low ceiling to see the very doors he fell through at the beginning- Back to square one!
Then he saw something, like a block of gold in a sea of shit.
A rope ladder!
How had he not seen it in the first place?!!
There had been no need for him to fall through those hatch doors! He could have climbed! This was it....
Antonio inhaled the dank, stale air into his lungs.....
.... Back to the damp room, back to the cellar!
If he could break the trap doors above the cellar..... He could....
Possibly.......
...... Resurface back in the outside world.
Antonio was startled by the sounds of voices echoing of the walls, far away but pushing forward. The alarm had been raised.
Antonio exhaled.....
Now was the time to do something! Fuck the past and the evil bastards who meant him harm! Antonio had a sudden realisation it was time to protect number one....
He ran his arm along the shelf, sending the souls in jars flying and crashing beneath him- Glass shattering, the heads rolling along the ground!
Antonio wished the freed spirits well:
"GO FREE YER' CUNTS! GO FREE!"
BANG!
Antonio knocked over one of the large wooden statues.
.... Antonio was about to unleash hell!
He tore off his shirt, pulling one of the gas lamp covers off the wall, exposing it's naked flame as the glass cover smashed violently. He pushed the shirt to flame and smiled, tossing the shirt on top of the wooden statue.
With the shirt alight, Antonio grabbed a hold of the copper pipe underneath the lamp that was protruding outwards from the wall.....
Now was the time!
Antonio yelled into the abyss:
"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU YER' FUCKING CUNTS!"
He dropped to his knees with every inch of bodyweight, the pipe bursting violently.
Gas was now escaping from the broken nozzle:
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.........
Antonio pulled himself up the rope ladder; the phantom force propelling him to freedom......
Gods intervention......
Gods divine intervention........
Or maybe not.....
He was back in the cellar with the surgical implements and decaying newspapers..... Gazing down as the orange flames grew and grew...... ..... It was time to go, weather he escaped or not.
Pulling himself along the dank, damp carpet, Antonio realised he had dropped the makeshift cane climbing the ladder- The very stick that had taken him to safety......
The fire underneath was spreading rapidly and had already caught the rope ladder, spreading quickly into the damp basement room.
Thick black smoke, filling every available space..... Rapidly.
Zeus is on fire.....
Zeus was always on fire......
The fire was always burning.....
Inside the guts of hell.....
The Head of Zues was in Lucifers guts......
Let the fire burn for all eternity.......
It had been burning for centuries.....
In the deepest, darkest depths of society, the fire had been burning for years.... Many years in fact......
The Fourth Order had kept the fire burning throughout time.... Sailors had been captured...... Tortured... Eaten......
Society pretended it didn't happen, like Auntie Jill had pretended it never happened...... Just close your eyes. Hope it goes away...... Maybe it doesn't..... Hope for nothing.....
Pretend hell doesn't exist....
It's just a bad dream.... Forget about it as the rest of the world has....
Bury your head in the sand and hope for a peaceful life and dull afterlife.... Pray you were never born.......
Antonio found it hard to balance as well as breathe; he was choking on the smoke from centuries past.....
He banged at the trap doors above him until his hands hurt.
...... To no avail.
Antonio began to lose hope, realising he had fallen at the final hurdle.... So close! Yet so far......
The black bastard! The fucking monkey! The black cunt was succumbimg to hell! Burnt to cinders! Forgotten in time for eternity!
Over..... It was over......
Done.
........ Flames had now caught his vest and trousers.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Antonio suddenly realised something was forcing the trap doors that had defeated him twice from above:
"IN HERREEE! I'M HEREEE!"
As the doors burst open, Antonios despair disappeared.
RUFUS!
He heard the voice of Rufus:
"HEY BLOOD! DARE YOU ARE! GRAB MY HANDS! GRAB-MY-HANDS!"
Antonio could hear Rufus, but not see him through the thick smoke; Rufus pulled Antonio through the trap door, dragging him upwards, through a dark hallway and outside in the cold night air.
..... Back into the outside world.
Rufus removed his coat, hitting Antonio's torso with it, extinguishing the flames:
"ROLL OVER BLOOD! ROLL OVER TONE!! GET THE FLAMES OUT BLOOD!"
Antonio felt the wet grass underneath his head. Taking deep gulps of cold November air caused Antonio to choke violently, smoke trapped in his lungs, throat and nose.
"TONE! MY BROTHER! HOLD ON SON! HOLD ON!" Rufus shouted, cradling Antonios head in his arms. "I'm gonna call an ambulance! I had the police here! They said nobody was in the lighthouse! I knew those cunts were lying! I followed the fookin' van man! When I smelled the smoke, I knew you were in there!"
Antonio tapped his leg violently, pointing downwards:
"The...... B-B-Book! The..... Book! Don't let the cops.... Take the B-Book!"
Rufus was confused but tore Antonios trouser leg open; the book dropped onto the cold, wet grass.
"The book!" Coughed Antonio, "hide it.... Please! Hide.... The book. Please! Don't let the Rozzers take my book!"
Rufus stashed the book in a bush and quickly returned to Antonios aid:
"My bredrin! They hurt you! They always hurt you! Hey man! Hold on red boy! Hold on!"
Antonios neck and chest were badly burnt; the flames had narrowly missed his face; Rufus had dragged him to safety before the fire could take him to the otherside......
Despite Rufus cradling Antonios head in his hands, Antonio was unaware if he had actually escaped or if he was dreaming. Even if he was perhaps dead.....
Had he made it?
The pain shooting through Antonios body reminded him he was still very much alive:
"I wont make it. I won-"
"SHUT UP MAN! YOU'RE A SURVIVOR BWOY! DON'T TALK NO BULLSHIT TONY!!" Rufus cut in, annoyed.
Antonio was able to laugh- Even through the pain! Rufus understood, better than anybody.....
Black?
In the West Country?
Why bother.......
Antonio observed the lighthouse beam shoot out into the dead of night, cutting into the black sky above....
A safety light for the ships caught in a storm?
Just a magnet for the cannibals who lay in wait......
Crashing into rocks would be a blessing in disguise for the poor souls lost at sea, Antonio thought; that very thought turning off the tap of pain for two brief seconds, only for the pain to return with vengeance; his skin burnt, his gums raw and toothless, his foot now a mere burnt stump.
Antonio saw the blue lights reflect off the lighthouse.
"Hold on brother! Hold on!" Assured Ruffus, as he waved at the oncoming vehicles. "Hold on....
Just hold on bredrin....."
Antonio had the sudden realisation that fate has stepped in.....
Antonio had escaped! He'd won! It's an idea that only a couple of hours before he thought would never happen.....
Something kept him going......
But what?
Being an outcast? Being the black sheep of the family? Being the black kid in a white school?
Always waiting for the clock to strike three? Everyday day being one long struggle? Abused and looked down upon? Never having good clothes, never belonging? Hated for being handsome?
The will to survive was greater than the punishment that had been dished out. Antonio couldn't face rotting away underneath a bullshit seaside town, forgotten; a pile of bones, lost in a sad period of time....
Antonio had literally cut through his own leg to escape a miserable fate......
Antonio stared up at the night sky and once again observed the powerful lighthouse beam cutting into the black night. He wondered if any ships would ever come this way again. He hoped not. For the good of mankind, it was better they crashed or found another port- Even in a storm......
The sound of sirens alerted Antonio that his ordeal was soon to end. He turned his head to the side, looking back at the decaying lighthouse that he had been trapped under......
Black smoke seeped out of the windows, doors and cracks in the rotten brickwork; he hoped every bastard inside suffered a painful, miserable death as they had hoped for him.....
He hoped The Fourth Order would be sucked down into the burning guts of hell.....
He hoped Zeus choked on the Satans cock......
He looked at the bush, thinking of the book and what lay inside it; Rufus was running towards the Police and oncoming ambulances......
Antonio had a brief moment of hope before pain pushed him back into unconsciousness.....
Back into a brief moment of peace........