IC - Day 3 - Messing About in Boats

[Mephistophilis]

Pierre looks at Laurent with incredulity. 'Diving for the Ti Maman? You're listening to too many of those American radio dramas!'

-----

They motor in to Pointe Pierre as the sun dips into the sea at the horizon. The sky rapidly darkening. Most of the fishermen have long gone home but one or two remain on the shore, patching up their nets and boats.

Back in his usual spot under the malou tree is old Pierre Labas. He's strumming and slapping his guitar while his little black and white dog lies outstretched on the ground in front of him. It's difficult to hear what he's singing, and it's nothing Laurent recognises. It seems to be in Spanish, something like 'rompiendo la monotonia del tiempo.' Seeing Pierre and Laurent pull up he gives a big smile, revealing bright white teeth through his leathery lips.

[Mr. Handy]

"Bonsoir, Pierre," says Laurent, smiling back. "Have you ever seen Agoué?"

[Mephistophilis]

Labas pushes his straw hat to the back of his head then starts strumming his guitar, it's a simple blues riff. He sings in English:

• 'Early this mornin', when you knock on my door
  Early this mornin', ooh, when you knock on my door
  And I say, "Hello, Satan, believe it time to go"
  
  Me and the devil, we was walkin' side by side
  Me and the devil, ooh, we was walkin' side by side'

Then he stops singing and just continues to pick out a simple tune on the guitar. His dog sits up, ears raised, watching him.

'Se pa kesyon an, ti gason mwen an, se pa kesyon an. Thas no question boy. Question is, have you?'

[Mr. Handy]

"The answer is yes," says Laurent. "I called upon him when we were out at sea, and he showed me a vision."

[Mephistophilis]

The tune played by Labas subtly shifts and Laurent detects an old jazz standard. A bit too popular for his tastes. Labas sings again, his voice unusual, much higher than his usual deep and rough tone.

• 'How much do I love you?
  I'll tell you no lie
  How deep is the ocean?
  How high is the sky?
  How many times a day
  Do I think of you?
  How many roses
  Are sprinkled with dew?
  
  How far would I travel
  To be where you are?
  How far is the journey
  From here to a star?
  
  And if I ever lost you
  How much would I cry?
  How deep is the ocean?
  How high is the sky?

Pierre Labas chuckles to himself. 'Sa sa vle di?' What it mean boy. What you think Agoué mean?'

[Mr. Handy]

"Something under the sea has upset him," says Laurent. "Where the Ti Maman went down, he showed me a cave. I think that's where the trouble is."

[Mephistophilis]

Labas breaks out in a roar of laughter. 'An you boy, you going to swim under the water? Find that cave? Like them American divers on St Albin?'

He gives a throaty cough and then starts playing and singing again. His eyes unfocused and staring out into the middle distance.

• 'How much do I love you?
  I'll tell you no lie
  Deep is the ocean
  More deep than the sky
  
  How far would you travel
  To go where you're sent?
  And if you should find it
  Would you regret that you went?
  
  And if I ever lost you
  How much would I cry?
  How deep is the ocean?
  How high is the sky?

[Mr. Handy]

Laurent laughs too. "I didn't know you could read minds," he says. "That's exactly what I was thinking of doing! But first I want to talk to the houngan."

[Mephistophilis]

Labas nods, he continues to strum on his guitar and the song shifts back to the blues riff he was playing earlier. His dog sits up and looks at Laurent, right into his eyes. Labas has a strange look on his face. Sad maybe, haunted. He looks very very old.

• 'Early this mornin' there's a knock on the door
  Early this mornin', ooh, knock on the door
  Said, "Hello, it's Satan, an' now it's time to go"
  
  Him and the Devil, was walkin' side by side
  Him and the Devil, ooh, was walkin' side by side
  And now the Devil got him, ain't gonna be satisfied
  
  They may bury the body down by the highway side
  They may bury the body, ooh, down by the highway side
  But that old evil spirit will catch a camion and ride'

[Mr. Handy]

"Do you think Agoué is the devil?" asks Laurent.

[Mephistophilis]

Suddenly stopping his strumming, Labas leans the guitar against the mapou tree and taps out his pipe. Struggling to his feet he leans heavily on his short cane. He walks slowly, painfully up to Laurent. Staring directly into his eyes, the old man's stale breath washing across his face.

'Oh ti gason. Ou dwe wè pase sifas la. Gade anba. Mande kiyès Dyab la? Sa se move kesyon an. You don't understand little man. Ask is Agoué the Devil? That the wrong question. That the white man question. There no Devil. Question is what the Devil for? What Bondye want?'

[Mr. Handy]

"He spoke no words," says Laurent, "but he showed me a vision." He describes what he saw.

[Mephistophilis]

Labas chuckles. 'Sound like Agoué. Too hoity-toity to jus' come out an' say what he want.'

[Mr. Handy]

"What do you think he wants?" asks Laurent.

[Mephistophilis]

He shrugs. 'You talk to him, not me. But kesyon I be asking is why Agoué can't sort it out himself?'

[Mr. Handy]

"That is a good question," says Laurent. "Are there rules by which he has to play? Maybe he's not allowed to do certain things, but we can do them for him."

[Mephistophilis]

Laughing, Labas says, 'Rules? Maybe. Or he too much of a gentleman to get his hand dirty.' Then he shudders slightly and looks out to sea. 'Or maybe there some things scare even Agoué.'

[Mr. Handy]

"If they scare him, how are we supposed to deal with them?" asks Laurent.

[Mephistophilis]

He smiles at Laurent, but it's a thin, grim smile. 'Maybe humans too stupid to get scared? Don't know no better.'

[Mr. Handy]

Laurent laughs dryly. "That's certainly true," he says. "Thank you. I'll see what the houngan has to say."