Caryl Phillips - A Distant Shore

“I shouldn’t think so. You don’t really have anything, do you?” Gabriel produces his crumpled book from his pocket. “Well, if that’s it, then you’re all set. I’d give you a lift as far as London, but I’ve got to go across to Dover for another case.” Katherine pauses. “You haven’t any money, have you?”

He watches as Katherine reaches into her purse and takes out some notes. First the woman is sharing her private address with him, and now she is offering him money, but Gabriel will not take the money, for this is too much. He looks away, but Katherine is insistent.

“Gabriel, I am going to leave it right here on the table and I want you to take it. You never know.”

“I do not need your money.”

“I beg your pardon?” Katherine’s voice is suddenly filled with indignation.

Gabriel is shocked by his words and he speaks again. “I am sorry. Thank you.”

“Good.” Katherine stands. “I know one of the policemen pretty well. I’ll ask him to give you a lift to the train station in the next town so you can get away from the journalists. I’ll tell him I’m meeting you there later or something. Wait until he goes, and then you’re on your own.” She momentarily stares at him. “But I expect you’re used to that, aren’t you?”

Gabriel stares back at her.

“Good luck, Gabriel.” Katherine closes the door behind her.

Gabriel sits and stares at the money. Then he reaches over and picks up the two notes and pushes them into his trouser pocket.

Gabriel feels the weight of a hand upon his shoulder and the sour smell of a man’s breath on his face.

“Keep it down, mate. You’ll have the whole of Scotland Yard down on our heads if you’re not careful.”

Gabriel looks at the scruffy, unkempt man, whose straggly beard momentarily frightens him. The man’s skin is pale, almost waxen, and now that the man is sure he has Gabriel’s attention, he takes a step back. Gabriel looks around himself and he begins to remember. The policeman bundled him into the back of a car, but this policeman did not handcuff him, nor did he wait for a driver. He pulled his door closed, and then he began to drive out into the countryside. As he did so he tormented Gabriel, asking him about the girl, and what it was like, and how Gabriel would feel if he were to do the same thing to Gabriel’s sister or to his mother. Gabriel had no choice but to listen, but the longer this man talked, the more convinced Gabriel became that the man intended to beat him, or take him to a place where a group of his friends would be waiting to kill him.

Just as Gabriel was beginning to think that in order to save his life he should open the door and jump out and run into a field, they began to approach another town. The policeman did not drive as quickly, and he stopped talking. Eventually the man turned off the engine and sauntered around to the back of the car, where he held open the door and simply said, “Get out.” Gabriel quickly stepped out and onto the pavement, and the man slammed shut the door and said nothing further. Gabriel watched as the car raced off. He felt in his pocket to make sure that he still had the money that the woman had given to him, and then he turned and walked into the train station and towards the place where people were buying tickets.

Some hours later a cold and hungry Gabriel found himself wandering the overcast streets of London, a city bathed in the weak yellow glare of afternoon street lights. The sky was a grey blanket that hung limply over Gabriel’s head, while all around him traffic roared so that no matter which direction he walked in, it was impossible to escape the terrible noise. He discovered the broad majesty of the river, where the crowds were less dense, and he stared in wonder at the great buildings that lined each bank. However, Gabriel could take no pleasure in these incredible sights for there was, as yet, no order to his life. He was lost. He wandered to the centre of one of the many bridges, and he stared down into the blackness and, for a moment, Gabriel wondered what it would be like to drop down into the cool water, having first spiralled through his own reflection. Perhaps he might find peace in the silence and stillness that lay beneath London’s silvery vein. As a sudden washing of traffic across the bridge shook him to his senses, Gabriel decided to leave this river and once more give himself purpose by searching for Bright among the endless streets of the city. However, as a troubled day gave way to the consternation of the night, this task began to overwhelm Gabriel and he was soon eager to abandon his quest.

Night fell quickly, and Gabriel was concerned that a policeman might apprehend him and start to ask difficult questions. He had walked for many miles and his right leg had now begun to distract him, and Gabriel not only wished to feel safe, but was also in desperate need of a place where he might rest. At the point when Gabriel thought that he could probably walk no further, he stumbled upon an unlit park where, through the gloom, he noticed that many men appeared to have settled down to sleep on the benches. The first bench that he sat on disgusted him, for it was only after he leaned back and stretched out that he realised he was sitting next to a used condom that looked as though it had been filleted and opened like a cleaned fish. Gabriel found a different bench and as he lay down he kept his eyes open. Although he was tired he did not feel safe, so he stared at the tree above his head, the large branches hanging over him like a big black canopy. And then he noticed more of them, hanging in the branches like discarded rubber fruit, but he was too tired to move. He rehearsed the events of the day in his mind, a day which had begun in an English prison and was now ending with him lying on a park bench in the capital city of London. And then suddenly the man with the waxen face was upon him, and the sky was bright and clear, and Gabriel realised that he must have fallen asleep.

“You’ve got to keep it down round here.” The man steps back towards Gabriel and sits down on the edge of the bench. “You’re new, aren’t you? I can always tell a new one. You’re disturbed.” The man taps the side of his head with his finger. “Up here. That’s where you’re disturbed. I’m right, aren’t I?” He does not wait for a reply. “You’re worried about your family. You can’t figure out how you got yourself into this situation, that’s it, isn’t it? I know I’m right, aren’t I?” The man laughs quickly and slaps Gabriel’s thigh. “Well, go on, admit it.” The man continues to chuckle to himself.

“For me this is not a good situation.”

The man seems somewhat mystified by Gabriel’s response, so he waits, but Gabriel says nothing further.

“What do you mean, it’s not a good situation?” Gabriel knows that it is foolish to trust the first stranger that he meets, so he decides that he will not tell this man any more. “You’re one of those refugee blokes, aren’t you?” The man seems to visibly relax now that he imagines that he has solved the mystery of Gabriel’s identity. “You’re one of those blokes, aren’t you? Coming into this country to sponge off the welfare state. That’s what they say about you lot.” Gabriel looks at this man, and then he speaks slowly.

“I have not come to this country to take from anybody.”

His new friend seems immediately cheered by this news.

“Well, that’s good then. Here, my name’s Jimmy.” He sticks out a grubby hand, which Gabriel shakes cautiously. “Well, come on then, cat got your tongue? What’s your name?”

“Gabriel.” He utters his one word and then waits for the man to speak again.

“Nice name, Gabriel.” The man pauses and he points to Gabriel’s book, which is falling out of his pocket. “So what you got in there?”