A rugged tale of yet another surprise yet memorable birthday with Cap’n Bloood in Davy Jones Locker. He comes bearing rum.
Wednesday 13th of July, 2022, in a cold secluded place sailors dread…
I was deep in thought and all my sensory capabilities were dormant. Never lost in thought; I often find my complete self in thought. If someone can sail the rough seas from brook to ocean without finding themselves complete in thought and the action it begets then he is a lubber. Nothing more. My thoughts are always geared towards the fostering of the better society but it is a lonely vocation despite thousand swear to seek it. Davy Jones Locker (DJL) is the best place ever to be found in thought and there I sat without being wopicious.
My sensory faculties were reactivated by the touch of a hand. It was a surprise, a moderate grip of my shoulder. In a couple of seconds, I returned myself to the corporeal present moment, then turned my head to see who it was. It was Cap’n Blood (CB) himself. I was dazed with amazement for a moment then remembered it was his birthday, thirteen days before mine.
I stood up to greet him but regarded him first. He had not aged since I saw him last and his hair and beard remained the same. His blue reg stood out well against his all-white kaftan. What struck me most was his child-sparkly eyes.
“An Eternal Happy Birthday Ahoy to You, O Cap’n Blood of The Tortuga Iwikpori! I await your 100th Birthday!”
“Yohana,” CB replied stretching his hand to shake my hand.
“Yohana?” I asked
“You never run out of tricks to discombobulate the status quo. Yes, Yohana,” CB said.
“Ha! After creating egbe, you always play the little boy lost game. I know your antics well.”
“O CB, you came here to DJL without permission,”
“Mascot Wrong, are you asking me to leave?”
I kept silent but my eyes spoke.
“I came here to close down Davy Jones Locker.”
“No. no, no, no, no, no. You cannot do that.”
“Die It!” CB yelled.
“I embraced the Ultra Violet Spot and banishment to DJL with love and obedience. I’m not taking any Microwave Spot. Where dey for dey see like that? I am in a Spots-Free Zone.”
“My decision is immutable. I created this place and now I have decided to close it down for good.”
“If you do that, I will invoke the Tedder Curse.”
CB dropped the small satchel bag he was carrying. What he heard stunned him.
“How did you learn about the Tedder Curse?”
I kept silent.
“It’s true you have got lots of information. Only members of the Original Seven or Original Fifteen know about the Tedder Curse. Woe unto those who hate our guts.”
Reluctance to speak further was mutual between us. With my hand I offered him a grand wooden chair to sit on. Before he sat down, he picked up his satchel bag. In his seated comfort he brought out a bottle of Kraken Black Spiced Rum and two accompanying gift glasses. He held them in his hands stretched towards me. It was an instruction to open the bottle and pour drinks. I did CB’s bidding. He held his glass in his left hand and I did the same.
“You do the honours.” CB said.
We both raised our glasses.
“To more greatness and the next 12 years.”
It was very cold in the DJL Rendezvous and a tipple of rum could do magic.
“Sometimes I think you hate me as CB.”
“I never have. It is just NAS things.”
“I know what you mean.”
“What makes you happy the most?” CB asked.
“That’s a cerebrally steep one. Do you have any personal problems?”
“My health challenges and lack of sexual activity.”
“Lack of sexual activity. I now know your source of valorous vim for errant things.”
We both laughed.
“How is your health?” CB asked.
“It is there. I am still kicking.”
CB raised his glass for me to pour him some more. In one swig he emptied the liquid contents of his glass then rested backwards into the chair. He sat deeply relaxed for about an hour, his eyes avoiding mine but never closing. The grandeur of uniqueness engulfed him with glee, nine decades worth. Here CB was visiting a denkuous mutineer, No friend No foe.
“The Man Wrong, are you alright?” CB asked, breaking the long-stretched silence.
“Yes, O CB. Did you really come to close DJL?”
“I came to pull your legs but you got the better of me.”
“How is that?”
“No one has mentioned the Tedder Curse to my hearing in forty years. It is very surprising you know about it. I thought it would become a lost secret.”
I kept silent.
“My birthday celebrations here are merry affairs, aren’t they?”
CB raised his glass and I poured him his third drink.
“One for the sea route,” he said.
When he finished downing the rum, he was ready to leave.
I got a warm hug and triple pat on the back. I watched to see if he would stagger on his way out, but his gait was perfect despite the rough floors of DJL.
Whether my mention of the Tedder Curse saved my day and abode, I know not. But it was yet an added memory to a rich chest of fine birthdays.
Be good, not Lucky