Caryl Phillips - A Distant Shore

Gabriel scans the fatigued group, which contains many whose faces and languages are new to him, and he can see that these people appear to have adopted him as their leader. Despite his desire to protect Amma, he is reluctant to formalise this arrangement, and he therefore decides to move off in the direction of the tents without saying anything to any of them. He clambers through a gap in the hedge, holding back the branches between finger and thumb so that he will not be injured on the spikes, and then he steps into the first field. Now that it is brighter he can see that this brown field, and all the fields around him, are the colour of stale blood. The ground is damp underfoot, as though it has been recently raining, but it is only when Gabriel is halfway across the field that he decides to turn around and see if the people are following him. One by one they have made their way through the gap in the hedge and into the muddy field, and like a band of pilgrims they are strung out, one behind the other, with Gabriel at their head.

When Gabriel reaches the far side of the field he passes through another gap, one which he finds easier to squeeze through, for there are no thorns or brambles blocking its entrance. He sees a man in a white coat and black boots striding towards him across the muddy expanse. The man seems to be neither angry nor hostile, and Gabriel immediately senses that he is some kind of official. When he reaches Gabriel he speaks slowly, but Gabriel knows that this man’s English is not the English of an Englishman.

“How many are you?”

Gabriel looks behind him. “I am not sure.”

“And of course, the men who dropped you on the road, they are gone, yes?”

Gabriel nods.

“Are there more of you?”

Gabriel is not sure what the man means, and so he hesitates.

“Are there more of you in France?”

“Yes, in Paris.”

“Many? One hundred? Two hundred?”

“No, no.” Gabriel is adamant. “Perhaps one hundred, but they are not coming here.”

The man sighs loudly. “Well, I am happy. The truth is we can take no more. It will be difficult with this many of you.”

Gabriel says nothing, and together with the man he waits until the whole group gathers together. The man then leads them towards a large tent which seems to be unstable in the light breeze. The flaps at its entrance are blowing noisily, but the man takes little notice of this. He escorts them inside and points to the empty cots in the far corner.

“Some people left last night and I doubt if they will be coming back. Please rest, and later there will be food.”

Gabriel looks around at the scene of lethargic misery, and he can see others in the tent who either lie on the cots or sit cross-legged on the floor. These sullen people look up at the new migrants as though keen to understand the mystery of their origins. Gabriel turns his attention from their prying eyes to the recently vacated cots. These flimsy canvas beds, set atop thin metal frames, look hardly fit to bear the weight of a grown person. Gabriel walks over to Amma and leads her to the first cot, which he discovers to be surprisingly sturdy. Most of the others move slowly, but a few of the men appear to be squabbling and they make a desperate rush to secure a place for themselves. Gabriel says nothing, but he makes clear his displeasure by the manner in which he stares at these men. And then he looks again at Amma, and he sees that she has already discovered a coarse-looking blanket and is lying down curled around her child. Gabriel lies down on the cot next to her, but as he closes his eyes and prepares to sleep he hears a noise to the side of the cot. He opens his eyes quickly, and sees a man with thick glasses and bushy hair standing over him.

“Please, listen.” The man’s eyes dart around in his head as he speaks. “I take you to England, but you decide quickly. I can take only three.”

Gabriel sits up and looks at this man in disbelief. He assumes him to be French, for he speaks with the same accent as the man who led them into the camp, but there is a wild energy about this man’s speech and his gestures.

“I come for you tonight after dark. In this place we live for the night.”

Gabriel continues to look at the man and he wonders why he has chosen him.

“Of course, I need money from you.”

“I have no money.”

“I have money.” Amma’s voice is quiet but firm.

The man turns to look at her and he speaks quickly. “I need two hundred United States dollars from each person.”

Gabriel looks at the child.

“But nothing for the child.”

“The two of you and the child, four hundred dollars.”

Gabriel looks at Amma, and then he turns back to the man.

“Please, allow us a few minutes to talk.”

“It is a good price,” says the man. “You make a new life, new friends, and forget your stinking country. In England everything is given to you. Food, clothes, house. You live like a king.”

Gabriel repeats himself. “Please, a few minutes.”

The man shrugs his shoulders, then turns and walks reluctantly to the entrance of the tent. Amma speaks first.

“You are angry with this man, is that it?”

Gabriel shakes his head. “No, but I cannot accept any money from you. You must save it for yourself and your child. I will find my own way of getting to England and I will meet you there.”

“Are you sure?”

“I will come with you tonight and make sure that this man does not cheat you.”

The impatient man returns, as though on cue.

“Well?”

“Just the woman and the child.”

The man seems unconcerned, and he now squints at Amma as though he is having difficulty focusing his eyes.

“I come for you after dark. If you have identity papers, please lose them so they cannot send you back to where you are from. And wear many clothes, for sometimes it is cold.” With this said the man turns and walks quickly out of the tent.

As the light begins to fade fast from the sky, Gabriel and Amma follow the guide towards the entrance to the camp. Gabriel notices two men with short, cropped hair and stubbled faces standing by the makeshift wooden gates, and as they reach the gates the guide stops. In the evening gloom he speaks a few hurried words with the men, and then he points at Amma, and Gabriel understands that these men are being told that Amma is to be their travelling companion. On receiving this news, the men begin to gesticulate and they eye Gabriel and Amma with barely disguised disgust. The guide returns to Gabriel and Amma.

“Filthy gypsies. Now we go to the train, but I must have money.”

Amma reaches into her clothes and hands the man some crumpled twenty-dollar bills, which he carefully counts and then tucks into his pocket. Gabriel looks angrily at the bushy-haired guide, for he neither seems grateful, nor does he appear to understand what it has probably cost a woman like Amma to acquire such a sum of money. Amma, sensing Gabriel’s rising anger, simply puts her hand on Gabriel’s arm.

Gabriel and Amma follow the three men out of the camp and down a deserted narrow lane where the hedgerows have cut off any possibility of a view, which makes Gabriel feel as though they are walking through a long tunnel without a roof. Night is beginning to fall and Gabriel tries to memorise the route, for he knows that later tonight he will have to return to the camp.

They walk on in silence for what seems an age, until the guide steps into a cornfield to relieve himself. Having finished, he then produces a cellular phone from his back pocket and conducts a short, whispered conversation before folding the phone in half and once more tucking it into his pocket. Gabriel watches him carefully, as do the two other men, fearful that he may try to bolt with their money. Having completed his phone call, the guide now returns to the narrow roadway. He cleans his thick glasses on the sleeve of his jacket, and then he replaces them. He points to a glow in the sky just a short way off.