CHAPTER 9
At the next pre-shift meal, Joshua, pointing to Monty, Ernie and Syd, announced from the top of the hillock in his gruff voice: “You’re coming with me today.”
They were well into the red sun dawn cycle shift and there had been no problems or incidents. Emily had once again reported they had achieved excellent results. Why then were the three singled out?
As always, Alicia was concerned for Monty. Certainly, of late, he had not acted impulsively. She cursed herself for her excessive concern. She wanted to be his lover, not his mother Two Warriors showed up, and one handed shovels to the three men.
“We have an hour’s walk so let’s get going,” ordered Joshua.
They set off behind Joshua with the two Warriors walking behind and climbed the path past Joshua’s house.
“Mr. Joshua,” Monty asked, “where are we going and what will we be doing?”
“We’re going grave digging,” Joshua replied grimly.
The three men stopped so quickly that the Warriors following bumped into them. Joshua turned angrily. Both Warriors raised their truncheons high, ready to attack.
A vision of men digging their own graves prior to execution erupted in the imagination of the three. “If you think we’re going to dig our own graves, then you better kill us now, and dig them yourself,” Monty said, matching Joshua’s grimness and anger.
“You’re all touched,” Joshua shot back. He lifted his huge right fist, prepared to strike Monty down. “What is it with you? Can’t you follow a simple order?”
“Well, then, whose graves are we digging?” Monty persisted.
“Not yours. Now march along!” Joshua turned, muttering to himself and the men and Warriors moved on.
Alicia, walking to the beach, looked back one more time at the troupe as they were about to move out of sight behind the caves. She saw the threatening Warriors and Monty and Joshua in furious argument. Almost hysterical, she turned to run back. Thelma stopped her and dragged her away. “Alicia, I don’t know what’s happening there, but we can’t help them. We just have to wait until tonight.”
Ernie took Monty by the arm. “Let’s calm down and enjoy the outing. This will give us a chance to see more of the planet.”
“Ernie,” said Syd Clark, “only you would call grave digging an outing.”
It was after all a beautiful day. Their path led through more forest, the trees pressed closely in, shading them from the warm red sun. Soon they came to a large opening in the tree cover. The ground off the path was wet and dank. Here and there in the clear space, trees had taken hold, spreading their interlacing roots into the swampy soil.
The two Warriors stopped and seemed to be conferring. Then one of them stepped off the path, proceeded a short distance into the clearing, straddled a web of tree roots, and extended the tendrils on its legs and arms into the mucky soil.
“They’re gonna feed,” Joshua explained.
The feeding Warrior’s head fell forward and a high pitched hum emanated from it. It’s in ecstasy, thought Monty. After awhile, the second Warrior also entered the feeding ground.
“Either they trust us,” Monty said quietly to Ernie and Syd, “or the temptation was too much.”
Joshua looked uneasy. “Bad. Bad. If a yellow fellow comes along now, they in big trouble. Settle down.”
They sat down on the path while Joshua stood a few yards away. Syd commented, keeping his voice down “If we ran off, where would we run to? And besides, they can’t be too worried — they sent only two Warriors to guard four men, although Joshua would side with them, I’m sure.” The other two nodded.
“What’s interesting,” observed Ernie “are the lapses in discipline. These two are ignoring their guard duty, and at our rotation entertainment, twelve of them didn’t follow orders. I’m not sure how this helps us, but they’re not as rigid as we first thought.”
Monty agreed. “Based on these two examples, there seem to be some differences between the two species. Whether and how we can capitalize on this is the question.”
Soon the humming stopped, the Warriors extricated themselves from the muck, and the group resumed its march. They came to open country with low, rolling hills. Grass plants with thick stems and over six feet tall bordered the path and swept away in all directions. The path snaked along in front of them, winding its way over the hills. Gradually, the elevation increased. In the distance, they could see a steep bluff, its crest punctuated by thin plumes of smoke. They slowly climbed the hair pin curves that led up the bluff to the top.
A small village greeted them. A dozen cabins appeared to have been randomly dropped on the plateau. Behind the cabins, stretching as far as the eye could see, the land had been cleared and planted. Machines and workers tended the crops, fading into black dots in the distance.
The inhabitants of the village, elderly people, some bent over, some supported by makeshift canes or walking sticks, came out of the cabins and surrounded them.
“’Bout time you came, Joshua. We been living with the stink for a week,” a thin, tall, white-haired man complained bitterly.
A woman, a gnarled hand holding a cane, came over to Monty: “I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?” Her voice was cracked and thin, straggly white hair hung down to her bony shoulders, but there was still a gleam in her eyes.
“Yes,” he answered. “We’re in our third month. Have you been here long? What do you do?”
“I’ve been here a lifetime,” she replied, smiling sadly. “I was just a young girl when I was taken. What do I do? I do nothing. Sit and watch the suns rise and set. You might say I’m retired. When you get too old to work, they put you out to pasture. The cabin is small but comfortable enough. And we are fed, same as always.”
Monty had noticed that there were no old people in the caves or at the diggings and had wondered what became of workers too old to work. His fear had been that they were simply killed. Now, at least, he could count on retirement, albeit a dull retirement. “I suppose,” Monty said, “there is not much to do here.”
“Oh, some find things to do. Some of the men play golf.”
“Golf!? How can they play golf? Were they captured with a set of clubs?”
“No, they made the clubs out of tree branches and the ball by polishing a round stone. My man says that’s how the game started in Scotland. They fashioned a course as best they could, way off, past the burial ground.”
Joshua motioned them to follow him. Beyond the last cabin, the burial ground was an extensive cleared area dotted with upright sticks and crosses made from tree branches. Here and there, a knee high boulder was rolled into place, marking a grave. Joshua paced off an area. “Start digging.”
The soil was soft and alluvial, and the men were used to digging. The hole was chest deep when Joshua told them to stop. “Now we get the bodies.”
As they got nearer to one of the cabins set a little way back, they could smell the sweet stench of death.
“Hold your breath,” Joshua advised. “It’s gonna be pretty bad. There are two bodies. We’ll take them out and carry them to the grave.”
In the dim light of the cabin, they saw a shrivelled up old woman lying on a bed. Slumped in a chair beside the bed was the decaying corpse of a man. Monty and Ernie picked up the woman’s body and moved out of the cabin with haste. The smell was overpowering and nauseating. Joshua and Syd emerged a moment later with the man’s body. Both bodies were placed, one on top of the other, in the grave.
The white haired man who had complained to Joshua explained: “I think Celia died first because she had been sick, and I believe George decided it was time for him too. We found poisonous mushrooms on his lap. It took us a day to realize they were gone. Nobody wanted to touch them, so they just lay there. We’re glad you finally came.”
The cabin dwellers followed and congregated around the grave. The smell was still strong but was easier to tolerate in the open air. The white haired man, who seemed to be the village leader, carried a handful of fragrant tree branches and distributed them over the bodies.
“We say goodbye to our brother and sister, George and Celia. From dust we come and unto dust we return,” he intoned. “May God have mercy on their souls and give them the Paradise they deserve.”
There was a hushed ‘amen’ from the assembled villagers. The village leader cast a shovelful of earth into the grave. Several of the others followed suit. Monty, Ernie and Syd then filled the grave as quickly as possible. Two of the women busied themselves with fashioning a cross at the top end of the grave. The villagers stayed for a short while, then slowly drifted back to their cabins. The two Warriors appeared to understand what was happening, for they stood well back, their truncheons on the ground.
Monty watched Joshua walk into a further part of the burial ground. He stopped in front of a grave with two boulders marking it. He stood there a long time and then walked slowly back, his head bowed. When he came up to them, Monty could see his eyes still wet with tears. So Joshua was human after all, Monty thought. There’s someone buried there that was important to him.
On the return journey, Monty, Ernie and Syd kept a depressed silence. Finally, Syd voiced the thought that was uppermost in their minds. “If we live long enough, that’s our future, that village and its cabins. I wonder how decrepit you have to get before they pension you off.”
“It’s not what I had in mind for my retirement,” Ernie said morosely. “I planned to travel the world.”
“Come on, guys,” Monty said, as brightly as he could, despite his own feelings of despair. “I thought they would do away with us once we were too old to work. At least, a restful old age awaits us and maybe a golf game or two.”
Syd walked up to Joshua, a few paces ahead of them.
“Mr. Joshua,” he asked respectfully, “that awesome farm we saw — is that where our food comes from?”
Joshua turned his head slightly and nodded.
They passed the swampy area but did not stop, and soon they returned to their camp. The red sun had still not set, and Joshua sent them to the beach to complete the shift.
Alicia and Thelma had been anxious all day, fearing what they would discover when the shift ended. They were elated when they saw the three men returning to their posts, apparently unharmed. When the siren went, Alicia ran immediately to Monty. “What happened this morning?” she demanded, relief giving way to anxiety and anger. “I saw you arguing with Joshua. You can’t seem to control your temper! I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”
He looked at her incredulously. She was facing him, tears streaming down her cheeks, both fists raised, as though she were about to pummel him. He laughed and grabbed her fists in his two hands. “You know, I think the Warriors should recruit you. With a couple of their baseball bats, you would look even fiercer. There was a misunderstanding this morning and it got settled very quickly. I’m sorry it upset you.”
Thelma joined them, hand in hand with Ernie. “Alicia, Ernie explained what happened this morning, and it wasn’t just Monty who reacted.”
At the post-shift meal, Monty recounted the day’s events and described the burial. “The villagers gave the ceremony some dignity and were genuinely grieving,” he concluded.
Rebecca, accompanied by the Doctor, joined them at this point, and sat down on the hillock near Syd. “My father told us that today was difficult for him and for some of you,” she commented. “He is always fearful at the burial ground because the spirits of the dead may still be there.”
“Joshua is a firm believer in the spirit world. I’ve told Joshua that it’s all nonsense,” the Doctor said.
“What do you believe?” Rebecca asked, turning to Syd.
“I believe what the Doctor said is correct. If there are spirits, I’m sure they would want to go somewhere else as quickly as possible. If I become a spirit, I would fly back to Earth, or perhaps I would take the opportunity to explore the universe. Or I might even go to the home planet of the Guardians and Warriors to haunt and frighten them. Yes, I can just see a Guardian saying to a Warrior, ‘I was walking along and suddenly tripped and fell, smashing my crown which went off accidentally, eliminating part of our city.’ And the Warrior says, ‘It must be Syd Clark’s spirit again. I knew we should have been nicer to him when he worked for us.’ ”
Rebecca threw back her head and laughed uproariously, flashing bright even teeth.
“Syd,” the Doctor suggested, an amused smile on his face, “ you would be better off becoming a god and your female colleagues goddesses in order to control this planet and persuade the Guardians to worship you.”
“God? Goddesses?” Rebecca wondered. Her father had told her of the gods that roamed the Ashanti tribal lands. These were fierce and powerful spirits; they controlled the thunder and the lightning, the wind, the rain and the rivers that flowed through the land. Her father had also told her of the god of the white folks who had sent his son down to Earth to live among poor, ordinary people much like slaves.
Syd saw her confusion: “Rebecca, the Doctor is making a joke.”
She smiled gratefully. “I am sorry, Doctor, I did not understand the joke. Perhaps there are no gods or goddesses on this planet. My father has told me of the ones on Earth.”
“Rebecca,” replied the Doctor, “there is a goddess on this planet and it is you.”
The Doctor had tried to deliver his compliment with nonchalance, but the fervour with which he spoke did not escape the notice of Syd and Monty.
For Syd it was an abrupt realization that he had a rival for Rebecca’s affection, but with the usual insouciance of the young person, dismissed the Doctor as a serious contender.
Monty asked quietly: “Rebecca, I noticed your father at a grave with two stones. Was that for someone special?”
“That’s where my father’s pappy and mammy are buried,” she acknowledged sadly. “He goes there as often as he can to pay homage. My father was just a little boy, when he was captured with his pappy and mammy. My grandfather was an Ashanti warrior who had given his king some trouble and was sold into slavery. He met my grandmother in slavery. I remember them but I was only a little girl when they died. The Doctor says that, according to the symptoms, my grandfather died of a disease called cancer. I think my grandmother died of a broken heart. They were very kind and nice to us. I still miss them.”
“Rebecca, it’s a feeling we all share,” the Doctor said sympathetically and sadly, as he left the group to return to the clinic.
Rebecca bade them all a good sleep, and she and Syd exchanged a long lingering embrace with their eyes.
Alicia stayed behind with Monty. Sitting on the grass, they leaned close to each other, holding hands. The yellow sun was rising, erasing any shadows that might have given them some privacy. They watched the next shift streaming out of the caves towards the beach. For a long time neither spoke, enjoying the modest intimacy that their surroundings allowed.
“I think Syd is headed for disappointment,” Monty said. “The Doctor clearly has his eye on Rebecca. He meets with Joshua regularly, and I’m sure Joshua won’t need much convincing to favour the Doctor over Syd as a desirable suitor. Even if Rebecca prefers Syd, there’s not much they can do to defy Joshua. I’m not sure what to do. I’m ok at handling and reconciling warring factions in corporate life, but I don’t know much about solving love problems.”
Alicia reached up and caressed his bearded cheek. “I would agree with that. But, Monty, why should you do anything? Syd’s a big boy. You can’t make us all happy here. Let the situation play itself out. If Rebecca wants Syd badly enough, she may persuade her father. The little we have seen of that family together suggests a loving family. If a father loves his daughter, the daughter will frequently prevail.”
Monty chuckled. “That sounds like personal experience. Well, it’s good advice you’re offering.”
They kissed good night as the yellow sun mounted into the sky, obliterating the crimson dawn and painting the snow caps in the distance a brilliant white. This is such a beautiful, exotic place, he thought, as he took a last look before turning into the cave. I suppose if we’re to be slaves, we might as well be here.
At the next rotation, the entertainment committee prepared its plans for the evening. The moon was fading as the dawn lightened the camp site and the group sitting on the hillock.
The Doctor, who had arrived earlier for a meal with Joshua and family, sat with Rebecca, Emily and Noah on the path.
Syd faced his audience from the bottom of the hill, and announced in a loud, barker’s voice: “Ladies and Gentlemen, once again we are proud to present the hit of the Milky Way, the Songbirds Trio. Despite their success, and the fact that the Trio’s talent has earned them much gold — all of which has been donated to unknown charities — they have agreed to entertain us. Please welcome Miss Sylvie Gagnon, Miss Thelma Radko, and Miss Alicia Vines.”
To generous applause, the three women stood up and bowed.
“Accompanying them,” Syd continued, “Is Jeff Leibovitz on the Oral Accordion.”
“What, pray tell, is an Oral Accordion?” the Doctor interrupted.
“The Oral Accordion,” Syd explained haughtily, “is known as the Harmonica or Mouth Organ in less cool locales.”
Rebecca was startled. She thought, by his manner, that Syd was insulting the Doctor. But everyone was laughing, including the Doctor. She allowed herself a smile.
Syd was about to resume his introduction, when a loud voice hailed a “Hallo!” from the top of the hillock. The rising sun spotlighted a tall thin white haired man standing on the path that led past Joshua’s house. Monty recognized him — he was the one who seemed to be in charge at the retirees’ village. There was an equally loud but angry roar as Joshua erupted from his house and confronted the visitor.
“What are you doing here?” Joshua demanded, belligerently raising a huge fist. “You’re supposed to stay where you live.”
“Not so,” the man replied, calmly and confidently. “I can go wherever I want as long as I don’t get in the way or cause trouble. That’s the camp commander’s rule. Besides, how far can I go? It took me an hour to get here.”
Joshua was not to be deterred. “What are you doing here? Why did you come?”
Instead of answering Joshua directly, he turned and squinting against the sun in Syd’s direction, said: “Master of Ceremonies, I heard there was to be an entertainment, and I would like to participate in your programme. I play the fiddle.” He had been holding a hand behind his back and now he produced a small violin and bow. “I was captured with my fiddle which I’ve managed to keep intact all these years.”
Syd looked at Monty for guidance. Monty realized that Joshua was uneasy, and he did not want to challenge him, but he did want to include the man from the village.
“Mr. Joshua, if it’s a camp commander rule, perhaps the camp commander should decide,” he suggested, keeping his voice deferential and hesitant.
“That’s what I’m gonna’ do,” Joshua declared and disappeared into his house.
“How did you know there was going to be an entertainment?” Monty asked the man.
“Word gets around. Kitchen workers told the farm workers when they showed up with the food. We’re always talking with the farm workers. My name is Stu Corrigan.” There were introductions all around.
Rebecca and the Doctor knew him. “How are you feeling, Mr. Corrigan?” she asked solicitously.
“I’m fine,” Corrigan answered. “As long as I don’t do anything to strain my back. The moment I lift anything with any weight, out the back goes.”
“I hope, Stu, your fiddle isn’t too heavy,” said the Doctor smiling. Without an x-ray, he could not determine how serious Corrigan’s back problem was, but he strongly suspected there was nothing wrong, and that Stu had claimed back pain to accelerate his retirement.
“I play only light music, Doctor,” Stu replied with a broad grin.
Joshua stepped out of his house and shouted, “Doctor, the camp commander wants to talk to you.” The Doctor followed him into the house.
“Say a good word for me,” Stu called out after him.
“The camp commander can’t be in your house, Rebecca. How do you talk to him?” Monty asked.
“There is a machine where voices go in and out,” Rebecca replied. “It seems like magic, but the Doctor says there were similar machines on your planet.” Monty nodded.
“Stu, tell us your story,” Alicia suggested.
“My story is very simple,” Stu began. “I hail from Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, a little place called Margaree Harbour to be exact. When I wasn’t fishing, I was playing the fiddle. Sometimes I did both. I always took my fiddle with me. I was a young man then. One morning before dawn, I was all alone on the jetty, waiting for the rest of the crew, fiddling my favourite jig, when this awful noise descends on me, and out of the darkness comes what looks like a waterspout. The next thing I know, I am grabbed and pulled into the waterspout and thrown into a craft of some kind, still clutching my fiddle. Well, I’m sure you know the rest. I went from fishing to gold mining in faster time than the Mabou Jig. I left behind my parents, brothers and sisters, and a girl I was supposed to marry. It took me a long time to get used to my new life.
Stu left the top of the hill and walked halfway down. “I suppose you know, they call themselves Guardians and Warriors but a better name would be bastards — begging your pardon, ladies, but I have no love for them —.” He paused for a moment, choked by his hatred of his captors. “Eventually, I met a pretty young thing. We coupled, and this made things a lot better.”
“Where’s your wife?” Sylvie asked.
“You mean the girl I coupled with? She’s back at the village. Monty, you met her on your grave digging expedition.” Monty remembered the old woman who had talked with him.
“Did you have any children?” Thelma asked.
He shook his head. “No, we were very careful. They want you to have children — adds to the slave pool. But the thought of bearing a child for a lifetime of slavery was too awful. Mind you, some of the couples have children, but we decided against it — or maybe, we were just lucky.”
The Doctor returned at that moment. “It’s ok. The camp commander will show up soon to observe. Stu can stay and play.”
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Syd announced in his barker’s voice, “we are fortunate to have with us, Mr. Stu Corrigan, the well known fiddler, visiting us from the Village of the Elders. To start the programme, the famous tenor, Mr. Ernie Mathews, will sing Clementine, aided by the Songbirds Trio, and accompanied by Mr. Jeff Leibovitz on the Oral Accordion.”
Jeff played a few opening bars, and Ernie launched into the song.
“In a cavern, in a canyon/ Excavating for a mine/ Dwelt a miner forty niner/ And his daughter Clementine.”
The Songbirds Trio sang the chorus, “Oh my darling, oh my darling/ Oh my darling Clementine/ Thou art lost and gone forever/ Dreadful sorry, Clementine.”
On the second verse, Stu Corrigan joined in, fiddling softly.
By the third chorus, everyone joined in. The audience was growing in size as slaves poured out of the caves. They sat on the hard packed gravel in front of the hillock. Couples with small children occupied the front rows. Tiny hands clapped in unison with the music.
The camp commander arrived with his phalanx of six Warriors. They stood well back from the group, but their presence had a sobering effect. Slaves at the rear of the audience drifted back to the caves; no more slaves joined the entertainment.
The song ended amid much applause.
Syd introduced the Doctor who would sing “Kathleen.” The Doctor had written out the chorus for the Songbirds Trio. Only he seemed to have pencil and paper, thought Monty. The Doctor had a standard mid-range voice but what he lacked in musical quality, he made up for with passion.
“I’ll take you home again, Kathleen/ Across the ocean wild and wide…”
It’s the wrong kind of song for this gathering, Monty thought. Sure it’s full of love, but it’s also full of nostalgia for the homeland. The audience must have agreed with Monty because at the end of the song there was dutiful applause with some voices calling out “Too sad.”
Stu Corrigan stepped through the audience to the bottom of the hillock. “Mr. MC, with your permission, I’ve got a song that will cheer everybody up. The song is called ‘The Squid-Jiggin’ Ground.’” Without waiting for permission, he tucked his violin under his chin and sang and played.
“Oh, this is the place where the fishermen gather
With oil-skins and boots and Cape Anns battened down
All sizes of figures with squid lines and jiggers
They congregate here on the squid-jiggin’ ground.”
Jeff joined in. The rollicking music and Stu’s robust voice soon got all the hands clapping and a choir of “lah lah’s” from the audience following the melody. The Songbird’s Trio had kicked off their boots and were dancing to the music. Monty kept his eyes on the camp commander and escorts. He was watching for the slightest sign that their captors would decide to intervene. To his relief, the camp commander and three of his Warriors left the scene. The three Warriors remaining stepped even further back.
Stu took over the entertainment and played jigs and reels with hardly a pause. With complete abandon the audience joined the three women, formed long lines, weaving in and out, circling in pairs, arms thrust wide or encircling waists, occasionally colliding amidst uproars of laughter. Alicia pulled Monty off the hillock and they joined the lines of dancers. Weaving in and out and then circling polka-style, Monty surrendered to the infectious music. Round and round they went, exchanging partners as the line advanced but eventually returning to each other. Sylvie attached herself at one point, and the three danced together. Sylvie, despite her height, was light on her feet. Alicia watched in dismay as Monty’s arm encircled Sylvie’s waist, and she leaned into him. Monty did not seem to mind. Alicia claimed him on the next go-around, backing into him so that he put his arm around her waist and held her off the ground as they turned about. Then they were split apart by the revolving line.
For the first time in months, Monty was thoroughly enjoying himself. Aided by the energetic music, aroused by the thought that two beautiful women were vying for his favour, he forgot about his family back on Earth, forgot about the circumstances that had brought him to Planet Dawn, forgot abut the endless routine of the work and the living conditions, forgot even the rubber boots he was bouncing around in, and gave himself up to the joy of the dance. He eagerly held close as tightly as he could each of the two women as they came opposite him, and relished the feel of hip and breast against him.
At one point, he spotted Ernie and Thelma, holding each other in a long embrace as they slowly rotated to the music, outside the line of dancers. Could it be? he thought. And why not?
Sylvie was in his arms again, hotly pursued by a determined Alicia. If he were forced to choose between the two women right now, Monty thought, he would have difficulty — tall, exotic Sylvie whom he had rescued and who reminded him of Vivian or feisty, pretty Alicia whom he had known on Earth and had found enticing. But tonight he did not have to decide, and within the openness of the dance, he could show favour to both.
Rebecca watched for a moment and then flung herself into the melee. She sashayed in and out of the lines of dancers until she came opposite Syd. Reaching out they grasped hands and swirled in a circle on the hard packed gravel. They were touching each other in an activity where touching was allowed. Round and round they went, smiling happily, and for the moment unconscious of the world around them. Over the sound of the music and laughter and shouts of the dancers, she heard the words and saw his lips form the words, “I love you.”
Then he was snatched away by a line of dancing slaves and it was moments before they were holding each other again. She felt his arm around her waist as they twirled to the music, and then he was gone again, weaving in and out of the dancing lines, snaking his way back to her. Once again they held hands and bounced around, up and down to the music. Once again she saw his lips form the words “I love you” and this time she replied, “I love you” and watched his face beam with joy and pleasure. Then they were grasped apart by the converging dancers, and bobbing and weaving their way through the throng, they ended at the back of the group, not far from the Warriors.
They stood beside the Warriors, clapping to the music.
“I love you, I love you very much,” Syd declared. “I want to couple with you. Do you want to couple with me?”
“Yes, yes, I love you too, but we need my pappy’s permission.”
“I will talk to him.”
“No, not yet. If you ask him now, he’ll say no. We must be patient and wait. Pappy prefers that I couple with the Doctor.”
“The Doctor? He’s an old guy. How can your father prefer him?”
“Pappy believes he will give me a better future. Please, don’t say anything to the Doctor or to pappy. It will ruin every