Excerpt:
The captain was filled with anticipation as he set anchor off the coast of West Africa, near Senegal. The sounds of the waves below crashing eagerly against the ship always thrilled him. The night wind cool upon his face as he began to shout orders to the crew. This was not his first trip to Africa and he liked the feel of this particular coastline. During the day, the blue of the water would be like crystal against the white hot sand of the beach. At first light, he and the crew would descend upon the island, piercing its dense tropical foliage in search of cargo to bring back to the Americas. Some would be taken to St. Kitts, (now St. Christopher), Barbados where a British colony had been established by British settlers. It was also the home of the captain, William James. Ever since parliament gave permission to private traders in 1698, Captain James had been one of the first to seek his fortune as such. He acquired a lot of money and built a fine house in the British colony on Barbados. He owned several slaves as well as a sugar plantation. He hired overseers to run the place while he was away collecting more slaves. He wasn’t married and though a few women had caught his eye, he thought them to be too weak. Many of the settler’s wives wilted under the island’s heat. Their fancy attire was ill suited to this area and many suffered from heat stroke. Only the heavier, older wives seem to be strong enough to withstand the island itself.
A perfect setting for hunting, He thought to himself of the beautiful island around him. He boasted himself to be the greatest of hunters, only his prey were human, but not in his eyes. The last couple of trips had been easy. He’d met with the chief of a tribe he encountered who’d sold him a quarter of his tribe and led him and his men to a neighboring rival tribe where the captain secured even more slaves, mostly women and older children from an unprotected village; the babies were of no use to him and unfortunately, the men had all gone to hunt.
As the captain leaned against the side of the ship on the upper deck, he stared out into the darkness of the shoreline. He began to see flickering lights and hear sounds of drumming and something else he couldn’t quite make out in the distance. A curious look spread over him.
“What is it Cap’n?” a crew member spoke loudly breaking the captain’s concentration.
“Well don’t you hear it, the music?” William replied.
“No sir, just the sounds of yer crew below.”
“But surely you hear it man? It grows louder by the second!”
The confused crew member shook his head and wondered what has gotten into Captain James. The captain gave orders for a search party to accompany him to the island to investigate this “music” he heard, though no one seemed to hear it but the captain.
****
The light of the bond fire burned bright and Sirene’s skin was luminous as she danced barefoot around it. A string of cowrie shells hung around her ankle, matching the sound that came from the beads and cowrie shells around her waist. Her eyes took on an eerie glow as she moved rhythmically to the drums. Her grandmother knew instinctively that her grandchild was calling her mate this very night; it was no longer the dance of just honoring the woman-child. Her grandmother stood and along with Sirene’s mother began to dance along with her to ensure this man, whoever he was, would answer the call.
