Graveyaard Talez

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By Gabrielle Mohamed

The following work contains content about sexual abuse that may trigger an anxiety response for some and may also be inappropriate for younger readers.

Fah Aden Aulder an

Dem addah dead-up soulz.

May allyuh souls fin

Lil peace

In de lan ah de Red Muddah.

 

Characters:

 

Narrator: Unknown

Father: The nameless divorcee

Dead Self: Son of Father, Aden Aulder, 16-year-old victim of intimate abuse of sexual reality within the heart of ‘de Red Muddah’

Ferryman: Charon, deliverer of the newly deceased souls to the world of the dead

Bullies:

Stevie: The vessel of Wizdom within the dead army of the living society

Paul: The living tongue of the dead salt

Prostitute: Unidentified slaver of sin

PROLOGUE

 

Scene 1

Sorrow Hill, beneath de ol Fat Poke tree

On the hilly planes of Bartica lies its burying ground. Red stones and uneven patches of grass comfort the souls of the living dead, watching silently as the dead living child is rebirthed at the roots of ‘de ol Fat Poke tree’. Chapped stone heads and fading tiles whisper the name of the Ferryman, “Charon, Charon”. Lying on the living blades of the dead’s grass, ‘de Red Muddah’ envelops Aden into Her bosom as the child releases his soul into the other side.

LIGHTS UP

It’s pass 9 in the November evening as the bullfrog’s melody guides Aden home. The air is numb as his feet tread boldly into the common room of Bartica’s burying ground despite his severe limp; a reward from his last beating. Smooth fingers glide into the grooves of the spidery veins of the Fat Poke tree. In its centre live two fading initials: A.A. and D.C. Gently pressing his head into its core, flashes of his dear dead friend, David Crawford, another victim of Wizdom’s ideology preached. Heavy tears flow into the husk of the dry wood as a loud banging erupts from the Captain’s brigade. The foul voice of Wizdom’s teachings echo.

 

Narrator:

Wah eye nah see, art nah bun.

De art, ee nah bun!

An de Gad, dat meh serve

Well, ee, nah gon shed ah damn tear

 

Cauz yah life, in de fos place

De bin wan big big joke,

An de worle de betta aff,

Wid wan nadda wan ah yall

Dead, yah ear meh?

 

Cauz de Big man

Up pun de pulpet,

Glowin in de white an gole,

Smile ee vicious smile, Wave de staff, an de jugemen gea pass.

 

Stevie:

Fasta budday, push yah badie,

Look, ee comin roun de carnah.

 

Narrator:

Cum de quick pantz ah de fat ‘ound,

sweatin pregnant bullets ah disgus ah wah is fah cum.

 

Paul:

Nah, Steviee.

 

Narrator:

Cum de fricken vaice ah wan spineless banna.

 

Paul: Leh ee guh.

Ee still kan wak

Aftah ee las beatin.

Stevie:

Well, lookie hea bayz,

Narrator:

Angah an ate spittin out ee mout.

Stevie:

Wam, Paulie, like yah getting saf, ah wah?

Goin saf pun ee? Nah pun dah lil gurl.

Next ting yuh no, yuh gon wah bone he, ehh Paul-iee?

Wid dah lil saf fingah?

People like dah, Paul-iee, dem don deserve yah kare.

 

Narrator:

Veins pulsing on ee ead

As de Captain squeal in de delight

Ah wan excuse ta be vi-yo-lent.

 

Stevie:

Whoohooo, lookiee

Iz de lil Felishah!

 

Narrator:

Squeal de vaice ah de

Captain ah de brigade.

 

Dead Self: [Slowly backing away from the brigade.]

Please, Steviee, please leh meh guh,

Ah aient wan no trouble, please.

 

Stevie:

Guh wea?

[Frown lines and confusion present on his face.]

Iz wah you tink diz iz, de lan a de free?

Look Felishah, dis iz de way de wole dos run,

Me ont yah down, an yuh gon suffah,

Cauz yah kreashion de bin wan big miztake.

Man aient mek fah look suh pretty.

Ee nah mek fah dress like am.

Nah sappose ta be saftan woman like.

Ee nah mek fah gea excited by de presence a wan naddah man.

Yah know, lang time now, yah breed de gea create

Wen de Massa de punish you wid de kane.

Like dah iz wah ya need, fah straighten de back.

Ole ee down bayz!

 

Dead Self:

[In a quiet voice burning with pain.]

Two separate anz ah de law.

Law dah kill meh bruddahz an sistaz,

Dah rejoice in de tombs ah hell.

Dead an free, safe from de likez ah people like

De Captain ah diz brigade.

An meh right side iz de face ah is-tory, scoldin meh wid spit,

Wile pun de lef an, dem peaceful man covah dey eyez,

An boun meh–up ta de ol tree fah frack-sure meh dead up soul.

While Stevie de pull meh panz down an de smooth surface

Ah ee baton slidah pun meh skin until ee force am in meh mouth.

OUT an IN, ee push it, HARDAH an FASTAH,

Spit an blood dance down me neck.

Den de vile muscle de gane.

Tinkin ah de free, ah de seh meh silent prayerz ah tankz

Buh in dah moment pain explode in meh az de law man tek ee baton

An shove it up me endz, shovin wid suh much force it ooze blood.

In de violence ah meh screamz, de law man promise meh

Dah ee gon save meh.

An ow diz intrusion inta de soul an ar-gonz

Gon brin meh de cure fah salvashion.

 

Stevie: 

Buh fos

Yah gah fah dead,

Lil Felishah

 

LIGHTS DOWN

……………………………………………………………………………………

Scene 2

Cuyuni River. In the boat of the Ferryman, Charon.

Beams of ‘de Red Muddah’s’ sun awakens the soul of the dead boy’s self. “The awakening of your own death was like drawing your first breath of life, and in doing so, I, Aden Aulder, abandoned the safety of death’s womb to exist on the riverscape of the Cuyuni River for one last time”. Red Watah and changing tides open the passageway for the Ferryman’s speed boat. “Jump and be judged,” HE exclaimed.

LIGHTS UP

The tingling sensation of the sun pries the eyes of the now living dead child awake with dilated pupils and multiple gasps of panicked breaths. “He’s alive,” whispers the Ferryman. The washing waves of the new tide rock Aden into a rhythm of normalcy. Tilting his jawline to the sun, he caresses the veins of the open-top speedboat rest. Sprays of cool breeze christen the rebirth.

Entering into the bushy arena, the wildness of the KykOver Al island territory becomes dominant. The single vessel sailing the rough waves comes to an abrupt halt. With darkening skies and rolling thunder, the Ferryman speaks.

Ferryman:

GOLE! GOLE!

Narrator:

Bellow de vaice ah fear.

Dry up eye lidz dat gea seal tight,

tight, Wid de fat tendon ah de poor soulz

Eye-lightin de narrow, de-eye-drated cheek bonez

Ah de wan time ansome man, sunken in de abyss ah ee dreams.

De lone star dat gea eat by de starz ah de nite.

 

Ferryman:

Pay an yuh shall enta hinta paradise.

Az de addahs befo yah.

 

Dead Self:

Paradize,

Paradize fah me?

Me, de transgenderin man?

Buh ah aien got no money

No gole sah,

Buh meh soul.

 

Ferryman:

Den wan memory ah de livin gon be de price.

Jump inta de red watah,

An de ancestaz ah de Red Muddah gon be de juge.

Innocen or nat, jump inta Sheh raw core

 

Dead Self:

[With a shaky breath and a tsunami of tears]

Salin in de rough wavez ah torment, Leh dese wordz be de las Eulogy, ah Aden Aulder.

Eve-en if meh end up in ell, meh don kare,

Buh, please,

Please don leh meh back ta de lan ah de livin, Nat

inta de hanz a Wizdom ideology.

Mek meh yah slave fah wan towzan yearz.

Darknezz an firah, meh now.

Dem iz meh frien,

An de light-ness a dem lawz, 

Dem give up pun meh,

Fah gea slaughtah, Day an nite meh gea murdah.

Jump inta de Red Muddah dreamz ah yesterday,

Waz like de fos time

 Papa evah teach meh fah dive.

Hanz clasp to-get-dah, wind flush in ya face

An de feelin a flyin in de air, until de break ah de Red Watah.

Waz like cutting thru glass,

Cole dreamz ah de Red Muddah sacrifice

Consume meh lungz an soul,

An meh pain fah dah secon de  

Gane, an ah remembah

Wah ee de feel  Like ta be appy.

 

Ferryman:

[Staring into the eyes of the living dead soul.]

In de ouse ah de livin dead,

All de picknie ah de Red Muddah

Gon gea eternal life, 

Buh fos, meh paymen.

[The eyes of the Ferryman glows white making a contrast to the Red Watah as a memory gets captured.]

LIGHTS DOWN

………………………………………………………………………………………

Scene 3

Bedroom of Aden Aulder. A memory is paid.

The smooth taste of fear diffuses into the well-organised bedroom. Its greying theme is splattered on the wall hangings and bed linens. Behind the bifold doors of the closed closet each piece of clothing is defined by a strict texture palette of cotton and silk, each hanging on their individual hangers. A single, browning combination desk sits on the right of the king-sized bed, hiding the secret of the others’ faith. All evidence of his ideal self must be removed, otherwise the façade is broken. In the centre of the grey room lies a bold, wooden crucifix unstained and exposed to the double life of the dead boy.

LIGHTS UP

The dead living Aden is awakened by the growling protests of his severely frustrated door. The piercing beams of the moonlight isolates the victim once again. In the window of the dying room, the living dead Aden accompanied by the Ferryman watches as Aden’s father and an unnamed young woman clad in a scantly black dress enter the room. Both individuals are flushed in the checks and speech is slurred.

 

Dead self:

Why, of all ah de mem’riez, Why diz wan?

Yuh de see wah dem do ta meh.

Why mek me live diz back?

 

Ferryman: 

Why?

Iz nah me oo choose de memory.

Buh diz, diz, iz wan ah yah lifetime traumaz

Dat yah mus confront ta be free,

Fah yuh ta accept de self, an nah de archetype

Yah de mek up fah dem eyez ah Wizdom.

 

Father:

Jesus, Aden, why yah kan be like dem addah bayz?

Buh nah worry meh son, meh gonelp yah.

Come meet dis nice nice lady, sheh dos wok pun Fos Ave, An gon give yah pleasure, teach yah de wayz a bein man. Jus relax, meh bai.

Dead Self:

NO! NO! NO!

[Aden jumps further away from the drunk pair.]

Daddy, gea sheh away from meh!

Don touch meh down dey,

Help me please,

Anybadi, elp meh.

ELP MEH!

 

Father:

Yah lil f****t sh*t, kan even gea arouse

By de touch a wan lovely lady,

Look, bai, get out ah me ouse an don come back!

An carrie all ah dem feminizing ermone pillz wit ya!

 

Dead Self:

Why,

Why yah mek me wach dis?

Mercy? Paradize? Ee kan be

fah people like meh?

 

Narrator:

Az all-wayz, tearz

Fah de transgenderin bai

Kan be.

 

Ferryman: 

Dey gon come ah time, wen de in-no-cen man

Gon spit in ee an, 

An start fah slit de throat ah de ram.

Chile, yah de do no wrang buh try fah exis by deadin.

Bein by unbein.

Umblee-ly yah tek all de criticism an buss up yah skin.

An suh de Red Muddah mek Sheh decision

Fah yuh ta live de res ah yah dayz in Paradize.

 

Narrator:

De greyin room suddenly transform inta wan warm sunset touchin de edgez ah

De rivah top ah Fif Ave rivah.

Ferryman:

Diz nah ell, eaven or purgotary; diz iz de space ah de in-between 

Live free, meh chile.

LIGHTS DOWN