Caryl Phillips - A Distant Shore

“Until we reach France, you will be in charge.” His uncle scratches furiously at his mesh of grey hair. “Nobody must move in or out, unless it is to use the toilet. And then only with your permission. The customs police have been paid, but they do not wish to see us.”

Gabriel nods. His uncle knows that he was a major in the rebel army, and Gabriel imagines that Joshua assumes that his nephew is therefore familiar with issuing orders and having men obey him. But Gabriel knows that issuing orders is one thing; having men obey you is something entirely different.

When Gabriel returns to the compartment he has to force himself down and into a new space for, as he suspected, his seat by the window has been taken and everybody has spread out and made themselves more comfortable. Gabriel explains that they will have to stay in this compartment for two, maybe three, days. Whenever the train stops they will not be allowed into the corridor, and under no circumstances are they to look out of the window. They listen to Gabriel, who tells them that they will be passing through Italy before they reach France, and that when they reach France it will be a relatively short journey to England. Everybody listens intently, but Gabriel feels somewhat awkward in this new role of leader and so, having finished what he is expected to say, he soon falls silent.

Gabriel looks over at the young woman in the corner. She had been in one of the other groups, but had apparently found it difficult to understand everything that they were saying because she did not share the same language. When she heard Joshua’s group on the boat she realised that they might help her. Gabriel sneaks surreptitious glances at this quietly beautiful woman with large almond eyes, whose child is sleeping among the bundles of cloth that are swathed around her body. She looks up and catches Gabriel staring, and so he quickly lowers his eyes and listens intently to the sound of the train. Gabriel can feel his head beginning to roll about on his shoulders, but he continues to concentrate and think about what he will do once this journey is over and he has reached England. Some hours later Gabriel opens his eyes and he can see that his fellow passengers, with the exception of the woman, are now all asleep. She is breast-feeding her child, and when she feels Gabriel’s eyes upon her she looks up. Gabriel is momentarily embarrassed, but although he knows that the decent thing would be to look away, this time he continues to stare at her. To his surprise the woman ignores him.

In the morning, Gabriel eases himself out of his seat without waking the others, and he slides back the door and steps into the corridor. Through the partially shaded corridor windows he can see that the train is moving slowly through what appears to be pasture land. His uncle is seated on the floor with his back to the compartment, and, having cast a surreptitious glance at the uniformed men to his left and right, Gabriel takes a seat next to him.

“How much longer?”

“Suddenly you are impatient?” Gabriel says nothing, and so his uncle continues. “Are the men becoming restless, is that it?”

Gabriel glances behind him and whispers.

“What is the woman doing among us?”

Joshua smiles. “My nephew, everybody is leaving to go to a better place. Is she causing problems?”

“No, no.” Gabriel is quick to speak now. “I do not know what to think about the child.”

“Well, is the child your problem?”

“Of course not.”

Joshua chuckles under his breath.

“Gabriel, the woman would not be here among us if she did not know how to take care of herself and her child. Do not worry about her. We have enough troubles of our own.”

Gabriel turns to face his uncle. “What do you mean?”

“We are going only to Paris. These men say that if we wish to go to England, then we will have to do so by ourselves.”

“But we have paid our money for England. That is where they have to take us.”

Joshua shakes his head. “They say they can take us to a place on the coast of France, and then we can try to pass through the tunnel to England. But it is heavily guarded.”

“But the French will not give us papers.” Again Gabriel glances at the guards at either end of the corridor, and then he looks again to his uncle. “We cannot stay in France.”

“At least in France they will not kill us.”

Gabriel stares at his uncle and understands that their conversation is at an end. It is his responsibility to go back into the compartment and, when the time is right, tell the others. His uncle has closed his tired eyes, and his head is now beginning to fall towards his chest.

When Gabriel opens his eyes it is the afternoon and he realises that against his will he has slept. Everyone in the compartment is awake, although they are all clearly distressed with the heat. Gabriel looks at them and then decides that he should pass on to the group the news that his uncle entrusted to him. Having done so, some of the men begin to raise their voices, feeling understandably betrayed, but Gabriel encourages them to remain calm. He assures them that there are many Africans in Paris, and that they will find people who will help them. But Gabriel realises that most of them wish to go to England, and that nothing he says will assuage their sense of disappointment. The news that they are to be set down in France has triggered a volley of conversations, but the woman seems to have nothing to say. For the rest of the afternoon, as the train furrows its slow way across Europe, Gabriel steals glances at this beautiful woman and her child.

The man’s screaming startles Gabriel and he sits bolt upright.

“Take your fucking hands off of me.”

Gabriel blinks vigorously and looks all about himself. The noise from the cell next door suggests that a fight of some kind is in progress. There is a loud thud, and then once again the man cries out, but this time in a half-muffled scream as though somebody is stuffing a piece of cloth into his mouth.

“Bastards.”

Gabriel climbs down from the top bunk and moves to the bars of his cell. Two policemen are wrestling his neighbour down the corridor. Once the man has passed out of sight, Gabriel sits on the bottom bunk and hears his stomach begin to growl, so he gets up and goes again to the cell door and calls to the day warder.

“Please, I am hungry.” There is no answer, so he waits a few moments before calling again. “Please, I am hungry and I need water.” Almost immediately he hears a reply from the irritated warder.

“All right. I’ll sort you out in a minute, okay?”

Gabriel returns to his seat on the bottom bunk and contemplates the silence. He does not know this man as well as the night warder, but it worries Gabriel that this man harbours some silent resentment towards him. However, he understands that there is nothing that he can do about this, and so he continues to sit and he runs his tongue across his teeth. He craves a piece of chewing stick. Back home he liked to use his finger to pick out the bits of stick that got trapped in the gaps in his lower teeth, but it has been many days now since Gabriel has seen a piece of chewing stick. Gabriel looks up and sees the day warder holding a tray with one hand, and struggling to open the door with the other. He realises that even as he was shouting at the warder, the man must have had the tray ready to bring out to him. As the door opens, Gabriel levers himself to his feet, and he takes the tray and offers his thanks. The stocky warder nods slightly, as though to acknowledge that he has been shown some respect, and then he quickly retreats from view. Then, just when Gabriel has stuffed his mouth full of food, the warder reappears at the cell door. He looks at Gabriel as though studying an animal in a zoo, and then he finally speaks.