Caryl Phillips - A Distant Shore

“Men like that?”

“Angry men. They killed my husband, and because of the rape his family did not want me any more. That is why I am here, just me and my child. We have nobody and we do not wish to make men angry.”

“But you have me, Amma.”

“I cannot have a man again, do you not understand? It is not possible. I am no use to you, no use at all.”

Gabriel stares at her, but Amma shakes her head and then she begins to walk back in the direction of the camp. Gabriel watches her for a few moments, and then he follows.

As they pass into the tent Gabriel notices that there are new people who look closely at both of them. However, in the far corner of the tent, he sees familiar faces. He imagines that it must be clear to them that this is not the right time to begin questioning either of their distraught-looking fellow travellers. Amma sits down and begins to free the child from the cloths which bind him to her body. Gabriel sits heavily on the cot next to hers and he stares at her. And then he whispers.

“So what will happen with us?”

Amma says nothing, and she will not meet Gabriel’s eyes. She lies on her side with her hands between her knees, as though she is praying, and she concentrates on her child. Knowing that he is effectively beaten, and that there is no way to make Amma talk against her will, Gabriel rolls over onto his cot and closes his eyes. He is tired, and he can feel sleep beginning to flood his body.

And then Gabriel sees his mother crawling on all fours like a dog. She is wailing, but without making any noise. Her head is craned back and she opens her mouth and reveals toothless gums. Her eyes bulge, but it is not immediately clear why she is in so much pain. And now she is surrounded by a group of men in khaki uniforms with red bandannas wrapped around their heads. They form a human circle inside of which Gabriel’s mother crawls, and as she does so they kick her. Gabriel watches at some distance, and then one of the men turns around and sees Gabriel. The man has on dark glasses, and then all of the men turn and look at Gabriel so that he can now see that they are all wearing dark glasses. Gabriel’s mother has collapsed into a heap and she is no longer able to crawl. But the men have finished with her and they stare now at Gabriel. And then Gabriel’s two sisters walk into view. They are still in their blue and white school uniforms, and they carry their satchels over one shoulder. The men notice these two girls, and the older sister stops and holds the arm of the younger sister, who screams, and the two girls turn on their heels and begin to flee. A satchel drops from a shoulder, but it is impossible to tell who it belongs to. The men take off in pursuit of the girls and leave Gabriel standing alone with his mother. He waits for a few moments, but his mother does not pick herself up from the dirt. Gabriel is not sure if he should approach her, but in the end he decides to try and help. His mother is curled in a ball with her back to him.

“Mama?” Gabriel speaks quietly, as though not wishing to rouse her from an afternoon nap. “Mama, are you all right?”

She says nothing in return, and so he bends down to touch her.

“Mama?”

“I have not had my blood in many months.”

He hears her voice, but she does not turn around to face him. He reaches down and pulls back her shoulder in order that he might look into her eyes, but there is no face. It is as if somebody has taken a piece of cloth and rubbed out her features. Gabriel jumps back in alarm, and then he opens his eyes and sees one of his travelling companions looking down at him.

“Gabriel, are you all right?”

Gabriel says nothing, and he simply stares at Bright.

“Gabriel, you were screaming. My brother, you are covered in sweat.”

Gabriel realises where he is. Beyond this man, and beyond the people who lie idly on their cots, he can see daylight through the open flaps of the tent. It is morning. Gabriel sits upright and wipes his damp brow with the sleeve of his jacket, and then he gestures to the empty cots.

“Where is everybody?”

“They have gone back to Paris to try to find Joshua.”

Gabriel looks to the cot where Amma used to lie. Bright reads his mind, and he speaks before Gabriel has time to frame the question.

“Yes, the woman too. She seemed sad to leave you. I think she wanted to wake you to say goodbye, but you were sleeping very heavily.”

Gabriel is disappointed with Amma, but there is little point in his letting Bright know this. Gabriel sits upright and looks around, and then Bright laughs, a loud, almost hysterical laugh, and he slaps Gabriel on the back.

“Come, let us get some food before these people eat it all.”

Gabriel follows Bright out of the tent. His friend is heavily built, but without being fat, and Gabriel guesses him to be in his mid-twenties. During the journey he has said very little to Gabriel, but even in the most difficult of times he has noticed a quiet determination about this man, Bright. They line up to collect their metal plate of rice and vegetables, and their hunk of bread, and then they both squat in the sunshine and eat. The ground is too muddy for them to sit, but it is too depressing to go back inside the tent. Bright eats quickly, as though unconcerned by what he is shovelling into his mouth, and when he finishes the food he tosses the plate to the ground and then turns to Gabriel.

“I think we should try to reach England tonight. I have been speaking to one of those men.” Bright gestures towards an unusually tall Chinese man in a red woollen hat who, judging by the manner in which he pulls his thin jacket around him, appears to be suffering badly with a cold. Suddenly this man bends almost double, and begins to cough loudly into his chapped hands.

“He told me that we can smuggle ourselves onto a boat. It is better than the trains, for everybody is trying the trains. The boats are unprotected most of the time.”

“Bright, you are sure about this?”

“The Chinese man told me that for those with no money, the only way into England is the boats. If we do not try, then we are defeated.” Bright pauses. “This man says that he is coming with us.” Again Bright pauses and he looks directly at Gabriel. “It is either this or Paris. But I am an Englishman. Only the white man respects us, for we do not respect ourselves. If you cut my heart open you will find it stamped with the word ‘England.’ I speak the language, therefore I am going to England to claim my house and my stipend.” For a moment Bright falls silent, and then again he begins to speak. “My brother, this is difficult to talk about, so I will just say it once and then we can forget it. In our country they put me in prison and did terrible things to me to try to make me talk. If it was not for a cousin who brought me money so I could pay the guards and eat, I would not be here. I got dysentery from the one chamber pot that fifty of us were forced to share. I got lice from the damp mattress on the floor. The half-cooked rice in palm oil soothed my pain, but it made me very sick. I know we have all been afflicted, but I, this man, cannot go back ever. I hate it. I want to forget Africa and those people. I am an Englishman now. I am English and nobody will stop me from going home. Not you, not these people, nobody.”

Gabriel smells the sea, but he says nothing. The three of them continue to edge their way down the dark road, until they are greeted with a bank of floodlights which reveal a bustling scene of trucks and people, all of whom are bathed in the dazzling pool of bright fluorescent light. The Chinese man points to the bulk of a huge ship and then he speaks to Bright in a whisper, all the while glancing towards the vessel. Bright listens and then turns to Gabriel.