Curse of Stigmata (The Judas Reflections)

by Aiden James

  “Land ho!”

  The words brought music to my ears as I raced up on deck to see the outline of Madagascar. A blistering hot morning, the sky was a deep blue and the air was sweet. Soon, I told myself, I’d be enjoying a bowl of fresh exotic fruit while lounging in a shady hammock. Perhaps a nubile dark beauty would rub my feet.

  Juan was just as excited. “Finally, we’ve arrived. Maybe someone can cook for me for once. What a blessed relief it will be, to walk on dry land!”

  “Think of the new adventure awaiting us—we’re in another world, and one where we can relax and be ourselves,” I said.

  I was far away from the harsh cold winds of the Pyrenees and Northern Europe. Nine months of sailing had brought me to a tropical island filled with rich pickings. But instead of a permanent new home, I would be productive and seek out lucrative exports. Spices and artifacts seemed the best things to focus upon, guaranteed to fetch large sums of money from eager buyers.

  Unlike Europe, Captain Chivers could moor close to shore without fear of the authorities. In return, he paid the Island Chieftain a hefty sum to ensure his safety. It appeared his wasn’t the only pirate ship surrounding the island. I was soon to find out why.

  “What sweet smells, the air is perfumed!” said Rachel as she jumped around on deck like an excited child.

  “I suspect it will turn sour the moment we disembark and you put one foot down.”

  Incredibly, she laughed, caught up in the moment and disregarding my latest insult. The dock was abuzz with fishermen selling their catch. Islanders, traders, legitimate Captains and pirates, all mingled together in a frenzy of buying and selling, eating and drinking. Captain Chivers pointed out the Sakalava, a minority group on the island known for trading goods for arms. I couldn’t help but be enamored by the beauty of their women, tall and slender with sensual almond eyes, a compelling sight. Rachel stayed close to Juan, with her skin darkened by the sun and hair falling loose, she looked like an exotic half white specimen, something the locals hadn’t seen before.

  “They are all staring, how rude,” she commented.

  “What did you expect?” I chided her. “How often do you think they see a white girl, let alone one with long hair hanging down and dressed to garner attention? You’re not in Europe now”

  “I love it here,” Juan said, tired of our rhetoric. “The air’s so clean and the women are beautiful.”

  We dutifully followed the Captain, not knowing where we were going. The heat was overpowering, and I quickly understood why the locals were either barefoot or wearing sandals. The women wore little more than a short colored cloth, much to Juan’s delight. I often forgot he was a red-blooded Spaniard, full of passion and easily ignited. I had seen plenty of nakedness in more hedonistic times long ago. Half-naked island women were decidedly mild compared to scenes I once witnessed on a regular basis. Rachel surprisingly took it all in her stride.

  We were taken to a ramshackle hut where two white men knocked back bottles of pure rum and talked loudly. Juan and Rachel were instructed to wait outside while the Captain escorted me in to do what he called a ‘little’ business. “This is Emmanuel Ortiz, a merchant who wants to trade,” was how I was introduced.

  “Goods or money in exchange for what I’m selling?” one asked.

  “Money or gold,” I replied.

  “I have two excellent items, both in perfect condition. They’ll fetch a pretty penny either in the European or new American market.”

  “I need to see the merchandise before I make a decision,” I answered with caution, which seemed to be the best approach.

  He snapped a finger to his associate, who ran off in a clandestine manner. Less than five minutes later, he returned with two young African women, heads bowed and chained by their necks.

  “Less than eighteen years of age, virgins, disease free and strong. They’ll fetch you a good profit as an easy sell to the serious buyer.”

  Shocked by what stood before me, their eyes were like frightened rabbits. Human cargo. “This is not my line of business,” I told him, firmly. “I deal in imports of spices and precious artifacts. I wouldn’t know where to begin with slaves.”

  “You’ll make triple what you make now with one slave, let alone two. A good businessman never lets an opportunity pass by. I was once from England’s shores. Now I make a tidy sum doing this. With many ships coming to port, they’ll be sold by the end of day.”

  Rachel and Juan were waiting patiently outside and, like me, had no choice but to watch as the two girls were dragged away roughly, unsold.

  “Maybe the girls have nothing here. Being a slave in Europe can’t be that awful, we’re civilized,” Rachel said.

  “Either you’re misguided or just wanting to cause an unpleasant conversation, as usual,” I replied angrily.

  “Why not try to dispose of me, Emmanuel? Considering how much you’d like me to disappear, you could sell me off as a slave. I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  “Because I’ve better things to do, and it wouldn’t resolve the problem of my missing coin, which I’m sure you have tucked away somewhere,” I replied, searching her eyes for a reaction. There was none, only a blank stare.

  “You’ve never knowingly harmed a woman since I’ve know you, I doubt you’d do such a thing as sell one,” Juan said.

  “If I’m pushed further than I’ve ever been, who knows what I’m capable of,” I replied honestly. My intentions weren’t murderous, only determined.

  “How long will we stay?” Juan gave me the impression he didn’t want to leave. The Madagascar paradise had caught his attention.

  “Until the Captain has all he wants and needs. Maybe he’ll set sail for India or the African coast. There’s no telling what his plans are until we’re summoned to leave in days, weeks or months. Who knows and to tell the truth, who cares?” I replied.

  I spent the day exploring the island. Meanwhile, Juan went back to the dock, spending much of his time inside the various rum shops. He missed out on more beautiful white sandy beaches, as well as rocky coves seemingly pristine.

  “Aye, aye, what have we here?” a voice called out.

  “A friendly stranger passing through and meaning no harm,” I replied.

  A figure emerged from behind a tree, bare-chested and clad only in a cloth skirt.

  “The name’s Robert Dalton, formally from Southampton England,” he introduced himself, cordially shaking my hand. “This is my wife, Abida, and my daughter, Frances Annie.”

  Abida held a small child in her arms, with a dark complexion and fair, curly hair like her father. In need of tobacco for his pipe, Robert asked if I’d bought any goods since coming ashore.

  “I’ll ask Captain Chivers, I’m sure he has plenty to buy.”

  “The biggest scumbag this side of the island coves? I should think not! What would a gentleman like you be doing with the likes of him?”

  “There aren’t many ships leaving Europe bound for places such as this. I seized the moment.”

  It turned out Robert was a former pirate who gave up his cutlass for the love of Abida. He confessed to hiding deep in the forest, waiting for his ship to set sail without him. “My heart is here and I’m not the only one. There be hundreds of sailors and pirates alike, scattered all over the island with their women, vowing never to return.”

  “Plenty of women to go round, then?”

  “More than you can imagine!” He laughed. “Being there’s a shortage of men, you can’t help but strike gold. And, they prefer the fair skin men more than their own. We’re at a distinct advantage. Even Mercer the Scottish Missionary has a woman.”

  I was quite interested to meet this Mercer fellow, to see if he were part of the new breed of misguided preachers who naively thought they could bring Christianity to savages, whether they desired it or not.

  “Introduce me to him, and in return I promise you three months’ supply of tobacco at my expense.”

  My generosity worked. Robert guided m
e to a hut not far from his, where a man with a long grey beard and not much hair sat carving something from wood.

  “Mercer, can I introduce you to Emmanuel. He’s from… where are you from?” asked Robert.

  “I’m from everywhere,” I advised. “And, sir, where do you hail from?”

  “From the lowlands of Scotland, a place called Bo’ness. My mission is to help the poor unfortunates on Madagascar find themselves through God and enlightenment. We’re building a chapel for prayer, would you care it see it?”

  “Sounds delightful.” It was the last thing I wanted to do but I didn’t want to be rude.

  As we walked, I studied him carefully. His beard seemed so out of place in the heat and his hands were soft like a baby’s, a sign he never toiled at anything. I was in the company of an intellectual who delighted in telling me of books he had read and about the one he was writing.

  “Do you ever look to the stars Emmanuel? They tell of more than you might think,” he said.

  “I used to, a long time ago. In the desert on a clear night when all was visible, I would spend hours looking up. But then, I was little more than a young boy.”

  “Shalom my friend, erev tov.”

  “Where did you learn to speak Hebrew?” I asked.

  “No one is ever too old to learn a language or study the stars. I can do your chart if you like. Tell you things about your past and future,” he replied.

  “From the stars?” Was I dealing with a charlatan missionary or a mystic in disguise?

  “Yes my boy, and, if my chart was good enough for King Charles the second then it’s good enough for you.”

  ’d become so intrigued by Mercer and his stargazing I forgot how long I’d been gone. With the tour of a half built church over, he took me to his modest hut, where row upon row of books and manuscripts were piled, from floor to ceiling. Keen to show me a large volume on applied mathematics, he confessed the name of the author, Doctor John Dee, to be himself.

  “I use the name Mercer on account of my former trade as a fine cloth merchant and importer. Like my father before me… only I merely dabbled. I prefer to write and discover more of the world unseen than to do business. I arrived here ten years ago by a twist of fate and didn’t leave. So, what brings you to the fair shores of Madagascar?”

  “Destiny has brought me to this faraway land also, but I’m not staying.”

  “Oh, I can see that,” he replied with certainty. “You’re a man on a mission.”

  I was slightly unnerved by Doctor John Dee and his strange, almost eccentric, world. Perhaps this island, like many others, had its share of secret practices rubbing off on new settlers. Voodoo and an assortment of island spells. I needed to return to the dock f I was to have an evening meal on the ship, after paying handsomely for my passage. I wasn’t intending to be shortchanged.

  “You’re welcome to come and see me anytime,” John Dee remarked kindly. “My door is always open.”

  I thanked him, and with Robert’s guidance, found my way easily back. As we walked and talked, I couldn’t take my eyes off the daughter who ran around his feet. Her striking mix of hair and skin color would be scandalous in Europe where she’d be outcast. Here, it was nothing unusual and largely ignored.

  Back on board, I discovered Juan and Rachel sitting together eating. She’d managed to worm her way out of banishment with the Captain, who, in a jovial mood knocked back copious amounts of rum.

  “I’ll be setting sail in three days for a short trip. There’s a friend who runs a boarding house close to the dock, she’ll see to your needs till I return,” he explained. A firm message to let us know he’d be off pirating and we weren’t welcome.

  Rachel was disappointed. “Let me come with you.”

  “Stupid wench, know your place. When I say you stay here, you do so without question or you’ll meet a ropes end!”

  There was no insolent backchat or smart comment this time. Instead, with her head bowed in fear, she remained silent. Bad enough she’d followed my path and sniped at me with every turn. It was good to see the wheel of karma turn in my favor. A little more and maybe she’d grow weak enough to slip and reveal the whereabouts of the coin.

  If a pirate could put her in her place, then I could do the same in another way. A tenuous truce could make her believe her world was calmer and more protected. Then, when she began to think I’d let go of the coin I would reclaim it easily. I would pretend to be her knight and savior, preventing her from being exploited by the rough seamen who floundered in abundance. From what I’d seen so far, the inns and guesthouses were respectable by day, at night they transformed into debauched dens aimed at sex-starved sailors. Rachel, with her wild black hair and seductive brown eyes, would be quite an attraction to the drunk and aggressive who didn’t take no for an answer. Her arrogant and flirty attitude could easily land her in deep waters if I didn’t watch out for her welfare. I expected her to be suspicious at first, but she’d soon be grateful. I would play it well by being attentive.

  Stage one of my plan was to be instigated on our departure from the ship.

  “I’ll help you with your trunk,” I offered, knowing how heavy it was with the amount of new goods she’d acquired on our travels.

  “I can manage. I don’t need your help. I’m more than capable.”

  “I’d like to see you carry it from ship to shore. I doubt the crew will help, they’re busy preparing to set sail.”

  “Then I’ll drag it ashore!” she retorted.

  “I don’t want you to pull a muscle or hurt your back… easily done.”

  She was extremely stubborn, making it excruciatingly difficult for me to remain in control. I wanted to pick her up and put her over my knee, perhaps a spanking would show her who’s the boss. But I couldn’t bring myself to do such a thing. Instead, I went to my cabin to pack.

  The boarding house wasn’t quite what the Captain made it out to be. It was filthy.

  “What’s this?” I asked the woman who showed me a room. The sight of a broken lumpy bed surrounded by layers of dust and crawling lizards didn’t exactly inspire joy.

  “This is our best room,” she answered with pride. “The others are basic.”

  “If this is your best, I can’t bear to think of what the others are like,” I replied.

  Juan was clearly not amused, and there was a strange smell.

  “I think we’ll look in the area before we make a decision,” I concluded.

  Juan was clearly not going to spent one night in there; Rachel was used to poor conditions and said nothing, so it was clearly down to me what to do next.

  “Doctor John Dee,” I whispered to myself, with his name came hope. “He’ll help, I’m sure.”

  We were in the right place to find a man with a horse and cart willing to take us inland. The dock was filled with locals all looking to make money. With a little bartering, we found a chirpy driver who knew of “The Mercer man,” as he affectionately called him, informing us he was also known as the mad Scottish scientist and a religious fanatic.

  Rachel didn’t argue when I asked her to join us, even letting Juan load her trunk into the cart with a smile. The three of us clung to the edge of a cart as we bumped our way down a rocky path led by a donkey prone to stopping without warning. It jolted my very being and added to the discomfort. Juan’s quietness of character served him well. Unlike me, he took the journey in his stride by laughing and joking all the way. Though I healed instantaneously, the blistering rays from the sun left my shoulders slightly reddened.

  “You should have worn more than your vest,” Juan remarked.

  “Here, take my shawl, I have my shoulders covered,” Rachel said.

  “Thank you,” I replied in surprise, the tide was turning.

  Without my doing anything she’d offered protection. I took it, of course, needing to show her I was grateful and cooperating. The plan was to have her settle in the peaceful surroundings of John’s spiritual home, sure to weaken any woman’s
defense.

  We arrived to find him tending his vegetable garden with a beautiful young island woman by his side.

  “Well, what do we have here?” he asked.

  I explained our situation, doing my best to play up the danger Rachel would face as a young girl. To be sure of our stay, I offered a fair remuneration.

  “All donations are gratefully accepted,” he replied.

  The hut had been enlarged at the back, although sparse on furnishings, it was comfortable enough and cleaner than the boarding house. Another young woman brought what appeared to be fresh sheets for the mattresses, it mattered not they were on the floor, I was happy to be away from the rough dock and its tiresome, drunken sailors.

  “Why are you being so nice to Rachel all of sudden? What are you planning?” Juan confronted me.

  “I want the second coin she’s stolen. I know she has it and lies when she says she hasn’t. If I can show her I mean no harm, unlike Captain Chivers who threatens to hang her, she might give in and hand it over.”

  “Sometimes, Emmanuel, you underestimate the hidden powers of women. I know you find their strength intolerable and Rachel is smarter than you think. She threatens your male ego.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “Don’t make a mistake here,” he said bluntly. “She’s not the stupid girl you think she is.”

  John Dee was a gracious host who made sure we had plenty to eat and drink while showing his gratitude for the donation. He explained how it would go toward building materials for his most important project, the Church. Meanwhile, Juan was bemused by the fact John had two common law wives, Leah and Cecile, who attended to our every need as we sat under a shady tree on the terrace and talked. John explained he’d been married twice before and had fathered eight children in Scotland who never answer his letters.

  “They don’t like my dabbling in things they don’t understand,” he said. “Even my former wife, Jane, who was twenty three when I married her, became a heap of trouble. I’m eighty-two years old now and, I’ve never felt better.”