IC - Day 3 - Messing About in Boats

[Mephistophilis]

Labas is where they left him. Sitting under the mapou tree with his dog standing in front of him watching him play, tail straight and wagging. His fingers move quickly and skilfully across the fret-board. Laurent recognises the tune, it's bebop jazz, that white American Barney Kessel's solo from Jammin' the Blues. He's never seen the short film but he's heard recordings of it over the crackling radio. He has to admit, when he wants to, old Labas really can play.

The old man doesn't look up. He just nods his head in time with his playing. Eyes closed. The dog seems entranced.

[Mr. Handy]

Laurent waits for Pierre Labas to finish the song, not wanting to interrupting him. Besides, he likes the music.

[Mephistophilis]

It takes Labas a good five minutes to finish the song, but Laurent wouldn't have expected any different. He admires the way the old man's fingers dance across the battered old guitar. Never missing a fret, never missing a string. The tune becoming faster and more complex until it ends suddenly, the dog letting out a long whine and crumpling to the ground where it continues to whimper. Labas opens his eyes and fixes Laurent with a stare.

'So you wanna tell me your friend gone?'

[Mr. Handy]

"Yes," says Laurent. "How did you know?"

[Mephistophilis]

'Old Pierre, he knows things. He sees things. He hears things.' The old man chuckles to himself then gives Laurent a big grin. 'Old Pierre hear no one is answering the door at the hounfor.'

[Mr. Handy]

"You must have good hearing," says Laurent. "Did you hear anyone leave? Or did you hear anyone else arrive?"

[Mephistophilis]

Labas starts wheezing, and rocking, he looks like he's having a heart attack but after a second or so Laurent realises it is silent laughter. The old man slaps his thigh. 'Old Pierre no hear the hounfor...' he starts wheezing again.

Eventually he gets a hold if himself and takes a gulp from a bottle beside him that looks like some nasty bootleg rum. He sucks throigh his teeth. 'Pierre hear from the kongregasyon no ceremony tonight, no one answer the door.'

[Mr. Handy]

"Do you know where the houngan went?" asks Laurent.

[Mephistophilis]

Pierre Labas shrugs his shoulders.

[Mr. Handy]

"Merci," says Laurent. He describes the merman drawing they found. "What do you make of that?"

[Mephistophilis]

Labas frowns and seems to be thinking for a minute. Finally he answers. 'Sounds like what the white men think a merman looks like.' He allows himself a little smile. 'But they real ugly. Real ugly.' Then he goes silent for a further minute. He's screwing up his face. Like he's thinking, or breaking wind. It's hard to tell with Old Pierre. Eventually he says, 'I think I seen something like that before. Long time ago. Long long time ago.'

The old man just stops. Staring out into the blackness. To the invisible shoreline. Then he darts into action, sudden movements, he grabs something from his loose clothes. A small leather bag. He opens it up and empties out a handful of cowrie shells, carefully counting them. Then he casts them onto the floor.

'Yes, yes, long time ago. Long, long time ago.' There's a fevered look in his eyes that Laurent has never seen before. Pierre Lavigne tugs at his sleeve. 'Come on, let's go. The old man's mad,' he whispers.

[Mr. Handy]

"Maybe," whispers Laurent back, "but that doesn't mean he hasn't seen something important." He returns his attention to Labas. "Where did you see it?"

[Mephistophilis]

Pointing to the seafront Labas speaks, his voice low, but strained, insistent. 'Down there. Down by the sea.' He starts shaking his head, and the suddenly pounds fist against his temple.

'Long, long time ago. Old Dame Marie. Before, before...' He's muttering under his breath and Laurent can't make out what he's saying. Then he raises his voice to be a little more audible. 'You know Anse Douce? Yes, yes, you know Anse Douce. The coral make a cave. That where I seen it. On the wall. In the wall. In the passageway...' He fades out into silence.

Then he shakes his head again and smiles broadly at Laurent and Pierre. 'Well, ain't that something. I wonder what made me think of that?'

[Mr. Handy]

"Merci," says Laurent. "That could be where the houngan went. To that cave. What else do you remember about it?"

[Mephistophilis]

His expression is odd, almost like he's frightened, but Laurent has never seen Labas frightened before. She shakes his head vigorously, 'Don't be going there. Not there...'

He staggers to his feet, dropping the guitar to the ground. He collects his stick and starts shuffling off into the night, his little dog padding behind him, barking incessantly.

[Mr. Handy]

"Something must have happened when he was in that cave, a long time ago," says Laurent.

[Mephistophilis]

Pierre and Laurent watch the old man walking off, his dog yapping behind him. 'Don't tell me,' says Pierre, 'You want to go and look in that cave?'

[Mr. Handy]

"I want to go and look in that cave," says Laurent. "I know, you asked me not to tell you that."

[Mephistophilis]

The sun has plunged into the sea and the temperature is just beginning to drop, with a very slight wind stirring the air. The fishermen have all gone home and the pier is shrouded in darkness. The main source of light now is the bright moon, a yellow glow added from the lanterns outside Old Man Samuel’s shop where a small crowd of youths have gathered to listen to the tinny sound from the radio. The jaunty melody of American popular music carried on the breeze.

Pierre frowns at Laurent, 'Not now though? Not now!' He points over to the shop, 'Let's listen to some music, do it in the morning when it's light.'

[Mr. Handy]

Laurent does like the music, but he doesn't know if Auxian can wait until morning. "Don't we have school in the morning?" he asks.