Failed Mutiny at Subsea

Failed Mutiny at Subsea

Lapotidunity in Davy Jones Locker is a melcine that cures or keeps away the worst kinds of illnesses. The illnesses of the soul and mind. There is not much the solitary mind punished for independence of thought can do to be merry without goscolene, meditation, song, and creativity. Authenticity is also a melcine. I heal.

Yet, without love nothing of value happens. Even evil men do things for love; love misplaced in perversions, delusions, toxicity, and waste. Therefore, in Davy Jones Locker one has no choice but to learn the love of the good, the right and the divine. Destiny brings a man to Davy Jones Locker to learn. I learn.

I throw the third and last shot of goscolene in my mouth, all its contents before throwing the empty contents over my right shoulder. The Forgone Terrors drink from the gesture with relish. They are not like lubber ancestors that drink from libations. Yohana!

My mind shifts from reverie of another time to present moment clarity. The name Failed Mutiny X, a fine young sailor, enters my mind and stays there for a few minutes. Is it an omen? It must be.

My thoughts of FMX alert me to the possibility of an imminent mutinous sortie against me but how or when I do not know. I wait. Then again, no one can mutiny me in Davy Jones Locker, not even CB. CB can close the place down and banish me but there are no premises for mutiny in DJL. I am a specialist mutineer and understand the game well – I remain modest. Mutiny is pyratical for it corrects things appropriately and limits tyranny. Let the best man win. And in the spirit of Gbogborima.

The lights turn orange and flash like blinker once again. If Talika is making another visit to DJL, it will be his last. Him go wound!

I spot Ahoys Jugunu Caucus and Divided Nation and a team of men. There are fifteen of them who have come to storm DJL but Talika is not among them. He is a wise man, wiser than these goons but his hand is in their action. No, he should have come with them and test life. He won’t. I raise both my arms in victory. Ijagboro!

Die it! Flat! Sample him! Show no mercy! Give me chance! Today na today! they yell in alternate and simultaneous bursts, an aggressive cacophony. Their yells bounce off me in echoes and inflames their anger. Its so good when your attackers are angry. I taunt.

Meffy Kpef and Body Parts Bill, both rush me to the ground in a nautical tackle and pin me down on the ground with their hands. The remaining thirteen use an intimidating ready-to-crush-you presence and a lot of shouting to overwhelm me.

My physical submission though reluctant is not their concern. Fifteen men against one man is no feat. These men want to break my spirit. No chance! All I have to do is delay them for as long as I can with resistance.

Taba D Devil comes forward to sample me. His short body and short forehead bald back to front is not a flattering sight. Forever born to be a gopher with the dark face of deception, the mask he is wearing is that of a Sworn Enemy of Convention. Gypo! Not even his accomplices are convinced. He is here for cheap vainglory and inches of power.

Taba begins to whip me. It is not difficult to determine his witchcraft is steep. The delight with which he lands the rope-turned-whip on my backside is comparable to the hot strokes a man delivers to his woman in the heat of sexual activity. He is seeking orgasm from my pain. Taba will not get it because I show him, I enjoy the pain myself despite the agony. He puts more effort into the flogging. I turn myself belly up and he whips my navel.

“I thank Gbogborima for this pain of elevation,” I yell.

“Die it!” three or four of them yell.

Taba’s callous action makes the mutineers delay the whipping for about four minutes. Comin Konko Miriko takes over the whipping session. He is far more humane and a slower.

I am dying of pain with no recourse to respite. No, I will not die. I regret allowing Faceless to return to the fold. If he were here, both of us will take the fifteen men down. The guy too much. I need just one capable hand. O Faceless!

A bell rings “kon kokon,” three times and the sound transfix the fifteen men. My timely rescue arrives.

Ahoy According 2D Law approaches us, all sixteen of us.  He has the swagger of a powerful alpha male. Tall, muscular, and dignified he commands audience without effort. Pyrates where all once like that.

“Awa Mutineers, your lubbish mutiny has failed. It is not pyratical,” According 2D Law announces.

“The DJL Handbook,” reads According 2D Law,

‘Section 1, Knot 3 – All activities onboard DJL shall never exceed respite, transition, reflection, protection, and sustenance… all other activities shall face resolution by transition. Transitions shall be to the Great Gangway if deserving. Or the Mid-Sea Pool if found wanting. Section 4, Knot 1 – All erroneous entries into DJL have fifteen minutes of grace to leave without reckoning. Anyone who stays longer than fifteen minutes shall face transition.’

“Eeeeee!” most of the mutineers yell.

“Awa mutineers, stand in an Indian File right here,” According 2D Law says pointing at a spot and he takes a long pause.

“I saved Talika and see how he rewards me,” I yell.

The mutineers line up as ordered. The proud aggression and high-octane exuberance no longer occupy their faces. Shock, confusion, and tears now colonise their faces with emissions of deep regret and humility. Sekpekpebe!

“For the crimes of mutiny and trespass onboard DJL we hereby condemn you mutineers to the Mid- Sea Pool. Measure for measure, No Friend No Foe. I have spoken,” According 2D Law says.

The spirit of Gbogborima is slow to anger and is even slower to effect retribution. The bodily control of the mutineers now lies with Gbogborima under the supervision of Ahoy According 2D Law, Red Scorpion of the Forgone Terrors, Adjutant-General to others. The fifteen men try to resist but their efforts are futile. According 2D Law marches them towards their destination.

“Talika sent us. He sent us to mutiny the Wrong Someone.” Taba D Devil yells.

“We Know, but you volunteered,” According to the Law, replies.

The eyes of Taba D Devil are so red you can barely distinguish the dark brown pupils. His face is now a simile for abject suffer. There is nothing he can do about it as he marches on. I tear him a smile and he weeps like a garden sprinkler. He was not alone.

In under ten minutes we arrive at the Mid-Sea Pool. It is a rough circle of water with a diameter of seven metres. The perimeter of the pool comprises a ring of steep basalt rocks two meters above the clear blue water that flows like a subterranean river. Beyond the the perimeter is sharp sand and level ground. All seventeen of us stand around the pool. I am just a witness.

“Jugunu Caucus, No Farewell to you,” According 2D Law announces.

The mutineer jumps into the pool helpless to resist and a shark appears to bite his waist with a snapping sound. Jugunu screams for his life and his mother then the shark submerges and swims away with him. No farewell.

“Divided Nation…”

“Ethnic Imbalance…”

“Body Parts Bill…”

“St Silas…”

“Unfortunate Election…”

“Taba D Devil…”

“Fugbon D Smasher…”

“BVAS Magic…”

“Blessed by Corruption…”

“Bleeding Stone…”

“Meffy Kpef…”

“Evil Legislation…”

“Comin Konko Miriko…”

“Immoral Judge…”

The screams were various and harrowing. Proud men reduced to a shark’s meal. The adventure which began as an easy mutiny ends as a tragic misadventure. Learn Before [You] Leap. I say again, Learn Before [You] Leap.

I expect the pool’s water to turn red but fast flowing water serves it. The water is as clear as nothing just happened inside it. All fifteen men gone. I look at According 2D Law’s expressionless face. I am an empath and break into tears. If I had stayed within the fold and not sampled Talika these men would all be alive and sailing. I am not to blame by the strict standards of measure for measure, but my eyes begin to cough and vomit tears.

“Die those tears,” According 2D Law yells.

I jump about the place in an attempt to dissipate my regrets and sorrows. A little reckless, I slip and fall into the pool. As I descend into the pool I attempt a prayer eyes closed. Kprom! I feel a hard whacking under my feet that volleys me upwards. I open my eyes and I find myself landing beside According 2D Law on my backside.

“What just happened?” I ask According 2D Law.

“The sharks rejected you with a headbutt,” he says and breaks into raucous laughter.

“Thanks for saving my hide, O According,” I say.

“You saved yourself. May the 4-7 Creed be your odeishi,” According says.

He gives me a warm handshake, then swaggers his way in the direction of the Great Door where deserving sailors retire to. It it so good to be a solid someone.

Well, now I know there is real justice in pyracy after all. Yohana!

 

Be good, not Lucky