Mid-century madness,

drenched in sadness—

“Who shot JFK?”

Malcolm, too,

& who slew

M-L-K?

Bobby shot,

in a restaurant,

squeezin’ through a crowd.

(Killin’ dreams

with guns & screams

shouldn’t be allowed.)

But what are we to say,

when killers have their day,

if nobody dares to stop them?

Copyright 2021

In this tale a time traveler and his best friend pay a visit to Alessandro Volta. A scientist I've always admired for his experiments with electricity that, following a sequence of historical events, led to the invention of automobiles.

Traveler had the annoying habit of skipping a briefing prior to his temporal excursions with Rædis. This often left the machine with no idea as to why they turned up in the places they did.

By his very nature Rædis craved information and Traveler’s deliberate withholding of it irritated him. Traveler claimed that it was for his own good. That as little people as possible should know only as much as they needed about traveling in any given time, past or future.

The most constructive advice Rædis ever received was what to wear. Traveler would never steer him astray in fashions of the times save for once when it was absolutely, irresistibly hilarious to see him appear at the ordination of a 23rd century Pope in the exact colors and proportions of 20th century’s TV’s ‘Sideshow Bob’ from The Simpsons. (Which was still actually on the air 50 years prior to the said ordination.)

Presently the pair sported hip waders over warm clothing because the swamp water they were slowly mucking their way through was kind of cold.

It also smelled completely revolting due to the fart-like atmosphere of methane gas bubbling up in patches here and there. But they were not on some alien planet in a primordial period of its history, they were in northern Italy, in a swamp skirting a lake called Maggiore, in the year 1776.

As they progressed, Traveler expounded more on the reason for this out of character nature hike.

“Today we shall cement the invention of one of our absolute, all-time favorite things into future history so that...well, they’ll be there when we want to play with them. Today, we ensure automobiles as fact.” As he said this, he tripped on a sunken log. Rædis stopped him from hitting the water by clutching the straps of his waders with great speed. Traveler’s face hung an inch above the putrid surface of the stinking swamp. His exhaled breath creating tiny ripples on it.

“Outstanding catch.” He said, not daring to inhale the foul fumes that popped up from tiny brownish green bubbles.

“Thank you.” Rædis said, relieved he would not have to endure a smelly, uncomfortable and miserable companion for the duration of what was an incredibly interesting outing, eager to find out how they were to accomplish this.

As much as Traveler loved to smoke when telling stories, he refrained from lighting up in an area full of flammable gas fumes. Never the less, he continued.

“Not too long ago a man called James Watt created a steam engine that wasn’t as efficient as it could be because of the loose tolerances of the cylinders involved in its action.” Rædis listened while making envious, smooth progress next to his friend, simultaneously preventing low hanging branches dripping with crud and various crawly things from interrupting him, without him knowing.

“Another man called Wilkinson invented a boring machine that could make very accurate cylinders as well as a process for making high quality cast-iron.”

“Hmmm...must have been beige.” Rædis said.

“Huh? What was beige?” Traveler asked, looking slightly perplexed.

“Wilkinson’s machine. You said it was boring.”

Traveler wondered if Rædis was putting him on or being serious. The machine had trouble with sarcasm sometimes.

“No, no...not as in uninteresting, that’s what the machine did. Bored holes in things. Specifically gun barrels, at first. I mean, not the most exciting thing, I admit but it was exactly what Watt needed to make his engines work real good, ya goober. Precision cylinders.”

“Ah, I see.” He said, now clear. He had been genuinely confused by Traveler’s diction after all.

“Right. So Wilkinson had a smarmy brother-in-law called Joseph Priestly. He married Wilkinson’s young sister but largely sponged off his in-law’s fortune. He was supposed to be a Protestant minister but was much better at fiddling around with different types of gasses. I believe he discovered something like nine elemental gasses. More elements than any other person, one of which was oxygen. Oh...He also invented soda when playing around with vats of brewing beer.”

“No shit. Soda? Really? How’d he do that? Rædis asked, getting more into Traveler’s story.

“For real. He noticed a layer of heavier ‘air’ in the vats, just above the brewing beer that would extinguish candles and kill mice but when he would dump water from one glass to another within this layer of gass, it became an effervescent and quite a pleasing thing to drink. Pop! Well...minus the dead mice, of course.”

Rædis smiled at the happy fortune of Priestly’s curious meddling.

“Priestly expanded his gaseous research by using his brother-in-law’s high quality gun barrel/cylinders to attempt to ignite other gasses he would generate in various ways using some kind of sparking device.”

They worked their way through the odorous patch of underbrush they were in and it began to open up more into wide, twisty trunked trees with damp, frosty looking moss hanging from their low branches.

“This is where we come in.” Traveler said. His child-like eagerness creeping into his manner.

“Awesome. Do we get to save him from Vatican assasins? Or maybe distract the attention of a malicious lover?” Traveler grinned and kept steadily stepping through the stagnant water as the terrain evened out more.

“I know! We get to race him to a critical juncture in space and time to make the right shit happen. Wow...cars. That’s big, Trav. I love cars. Cars and...” he paused. His imaginations reaching a climax. ”...Is there a cat involved? Oh man, that would be the best.” Rædis loved cats.

Traveler laughed as his friend’s ideas grew in extravagance and scope.

” Hahaha...all wonderful possibilities but no. All we have to do is deliver this...” Traveler said slipping a letter from the breast pocket in his jacket, drafted on fine paper and sealed with blue wax marked with an ornate design Rædis did not recognize.

“What, simply deliver a letter?” Rædis said, sounding disappointed.

“If you call wading through this stinking swamp simple.” Traveler retorted, nearly falling again. He shrugged off the machine’s help this time.

“Well it is.” Rædis replied as he deftly avoided the branch that nearly ensnared his friend

“Anyway, we’re not looking for Priestly. We’re looking for him.” Traveler said pointing to a man roughly 50 meters ahead of them. The man was bent over in the swamp, scooping marsh gas into a glass tube.

The man was also equipped with a metal disk attached to a handle with two twists of wire protruding from the grip. With it, he was attempting to use a static charge stored in the disk to create a spark powerful enough to ignite the gas trapped within the tube.

Rædis and Traveler watched the man attempt his experiment. They smiled appreciatively when, after a few misfires, zapping himself once and having to recharge the static trapped in the device, ignition was finally acheived. The cork he had sealed his test tube with popped satisfyingly off the end of it. They could hear his joyous laughter at the success of his efforts.

“Alessandro!” Traveler hailed the man who spun to face the two unexpected men. He waved them over to him, smilingly as he recognized Traveler easily.

“Ah, my friend!” He called back. “Come see what I have discovered.”

Traveler and Rædis began trudging the distance between them and the man. Traveler tripped and fell again. Rædis deftly plucked the letter from his hand before it could be dunked in the muck . Traveler felt a cold rush of putrid brown water surge into his waders but righted himself before completely collapsing into the knee deep filth.

The man joined them having closed the distance with great dexterity as Traveler got back to his feet, brushing a lock of his currently longish brown hair back and out of his eyes. The action smeared a dab of green tinged mud along his forehead.

“Traveler, my friend. How good to see you again. And so soon!” The man said while noting the time on his pocket watch. “We’ve only just departed four hours ago. How on Earth did you get all the way out here with such haste?” He said, slightly astonished. Traveler winked at Rædis. Although it had been months for Traveler personally, he loved appearing to his friends in time shortly after their last meetings. Often much more abruptly than just a few hours after leaving them wondering how he managed such trickery. It was a cheesy temporal trick Rædis knew Traveler allowed himself. Rædis flickered a knowing smile in return.

“Oh, you know me Alessandro, when something fun is afoot. I can move like a cat. Rædis, I would like you to meet Senioré Alessandro Volta. Alessandro, meet my best friend Rædis.” Traveler said, his coolness regained with the fixing of his hair. The other two men clasped hands heartily.

“I have a few things for you sir that couldn’t wait.” Traveler began to explain. Volta kept studying Rædis’ waterproof waders.

“I say, those britches are fantastic. You remain totally dry within even when submerged in water?” He asked, feeling the texture of their composition where they covered Traveler’s chest. He marveled as the water beaded and fell from the suit. “How incredibly practical in such a wretched environment.”

“Yes. Completely dry. Well, provided one can stay on one’s feet.” Traveler chuckled. “We’ve brought you a few pairs as well as some other equipment. I also have a letter for you from an Englishman called Priestly. I feel it may prove to be very insightful.”

“Well then. I propose we relocate to more a hospitable location. It seems we have much to discuss.” Volta said cheerily, clapping both men on the shoulder. Follow me. I know the easiest way out of this mire.” He said, taking the lead.

Volta’s path out of the swamp was indeed easier and quicker than the way the other two had come yet Traveler still managed to stumble two more times and had become the smelly, wet, miserable mess Rædis had feared. Traveler watched the other two men make their way without incident, conversing casually, getting to know one another. He lagged behind, his waders full of water and the woolen layers of his clothing now weighing significantly more than when he had first stepped foot in the swamp. He was flummoxed by their agility in such slippery footing and was slightly resentful. However, after reaching Volta’s lodgings, cleaning up and changing he had become much more amiable.

Once back at Volta’s place, all clean and dry and enjoying some of Alessandro’s most welcome food and warm drinks, the trio were quite comfortable and excited to catch up. Traveler and Rædis had changed into period attire but with modern additions such as machine stitching, modern, synthetic fabrics and zippers. Both looked fantastic and Volta, being a great fan of fashion, eyed their suits with envy. Rædis noticed this.

I see you like our suits, Alessandro.” From their luggage he produced two sets for his new friend. One in subdued earthen tones and the other in striking scarlets. He also had two sets of the waders they had worn in the swamp. He presented the ensembles to Volta, as well as the waders.

“Here you are, my friend. A gift for you. Crafted by my favorite tailor back home.” Traveler said with pride as Rædis unfurled the clothing and smoothed out the wrinkles. Volta’s eyes widened with glee.

“Oh my friends, this is a fine suit, indeed. I’ve never seen its like! Such precise workmanship and this device...er, what did you call it?”

“A zipper.” Rædis said as Volta moved it up and down on the garment studying its action. He did the same on the jacket, zipping the much longer zip up and down at various speeds. In seconds he had worked out a catchy little beat/tune with the garment. He laughed. Traveler started beat boxing. Volta caught on and repeated the rhythm with the zipper a few times.

All laughed. “You two should be in a band.” Rædis chuckled, commending their impromptu musical ability.

“Haha...sometimes we are!” Traveler laughed.

“Musical clothes. I love them.” Volta said. “Thank you so much! I shall be the finest dressed scientist to ever muck through a swamp.” He jested, laughing.

Finally Rædis produced Priestly’s letter that he had saved from being dunked in the drink by Traveler on his many stumbles in the swamp and presented it to Volta.

“Ah yes...the letter.” Volta said, breaking the sealing wax stamp and uncreasing it. He handed the letter to Traveler.

“Would you mind reading this to me, friend Traveler. Although he tries, reading Priestly’s missives aloud is an affront to the Italian language I want no part of. Paragraphs of colorless Protestant prose...” He sighed.

Chuckling, Traveler took the letter and drew one of his cigarettes from a dull metal case he was holding. He offered one to his friends. Both men were aware of the strange effects of Traveler’s particular brand and declined. After breathing putrid marsh gas all day they were satisfied breathing the refreshing northern Italian air. Traveler moved to a point in the room most dramatically lit, as was his style when he was the center of attention, ignited his smoke and began to read aloud.

“Dear sir, I’ve only just received your last letter because it was delivered by an Italian singer who only just arrived...”

Once Traveler had worked through the niceties of the letter Priestly got down to the point. He went into details about his own research with inflammable gasses and the method he was using to ignite them. It was as Traveler explained to Rædis earlier. Using Wilkinson’s cylindars and some sort of electric spark to see what they would do.

Priestly was a sport in that, where most scientists were anxious to make discoveries and publish their findings before anyone else for whatever reason be it personal glory, profit or both, Priestly openly and eagerly shared his work with pretty much anyone who was interested. This was perhaps to his detriment but Traveler never thought so. He reckoned the man was credited with plenty enough for anyone.

Upon concluding the correspondence, Traveler stepped from the haze of pale blue smoke that had gathered around his head as he read. His eyes had taken on a mischievous sheen as his brain reacted to the drugs in his cigarette. Rædis knew this look well. It made him comfortable as it was a sign that events were progressing as they should be.

Volta had been pacing the room excitedly as Traveler read Priestly’s letter. He was encouraged that he was seemingly on the right track as far as his studies of ‘inflammable air’.

“I knew there was significance to this research.” He said proudly.

“Hey Alessandro, now that I have a bit more time to chat than I did...er, earlier today. You can show me what you are actually working on? That’s sort of why I dropped by in the first place. Uhh...Sorry about the horse. How’d that go?” Traveler asked. Rædis, as inquisitive as always, also looked amused.

“It was fine. I gave the horse to the magistrate, slipped him some coin and told him I had no idea who you were.” Volta explained. Then Traveler explained to Rædis.

“I had to park quite a way out of town earlier so I procured a horse.”

“Ah, you mean you heisted a horse. Understood.” he laughed. His handsome human disguise acting accordingly.

“Senioré Volta, what was that disc on a stick you ignited the marsh gas with in the swamp?” Rædis asked the scientist. Volta grinned.

“It is my eternal spark.” Volta said with a flourish. “It’s sort of like a Lydon Jar without the water. You ‘charge’ it up, so to speak, by rubbing it with this catskin.”

Volta picked his device up from the table on which it sat. He retreated into his workspace and returned in a moment waving the grey skin of a cat.

Rædis, who adored cats, was immediately horrified.

“Did you deliberately skin that cat?” he asked Volta. His bright eyes wide with dismay.

“Well, yes lad. Feral cats abound in the town and they’re skin is uncannily ideal for this.” Volta said and vigorously rubbed the disk with it. Before Traveler could soothe his friend, Rædis reached out to grab the skin away from the man, accidentally making contact with the leads protruding from the handle and zapping him with a stiff electric charge which he easily ignored. He clutched the remains of the former cat close to his chest. Traveler stepped in at this point.

“Alessandro, understand my friend is a great lover and protector of his feline friends. He wasn’t expecting that.” Traveler’s tact was spot on. He diffused the awkward situation without apologizing for Rædis who was well within his rights to be offended and avoided making Alessandro look like a total, primative savage. It was actually Volta who offered the apology.

“I’m sorry Senioré Rædis. I was unaware you were a man of such...sensitivities.” he said with a slight bow. He was also puzzled and slightly intimidated about Rædis was completely unphased by the potent electric discharge from his device. Rædis extended a hand and Volta clasped it firmly.

“No worries, Senioré Volta. I understand. ” he assured the scientist but did not return the skin. (Later, privately, before they left for their own time, he would bury it in the side yard of Volta’s dwelling at the base of a grand tree.)

With the situation diffused, Traveler once again prompted Volta to show him what he originally came to see. The scientist led them to into his workshop and there, on a table, amidst the remnants of its construction, stood a column of metal disks sandwiched between equal sized disks of damp cardboard. The column was held up within four wooden dowel rods anchored in a wooden base and capped off with a removable top with two wires protruding from it that made contact with the column when secured.

With a flourish of his fingers, Volta presented his creation.

“Here, gentlemen, is my rebuke to Luigi Galvani’s claim of ‘animal electricity ’. You see, my fellow researcher believes animals, including us humans are infused with this sort of electrical powered fluid.” he explained.

“But I think this is preposterous. He based his assumptions on being able to electrically stimulate motion in the servers legs of frogs.” Volta said, throwing his arms up in a sign of incredulity.

Rædis cringed.

“What is it with you guys doing such horrible things to animals?” Rædis asked. His expressive face rendering an appalled and disdainful look. Having derived from a world devoid of animals, he initially did not comprehend the human compulsion to experiment on other living creatures. When he eventually came to understand it, he still could not abide it.

Volta, thanks to Traveler, now understood Rædis’ concern but merely suggested in order to discover things, they had to work with what was around but then defended himself with his invention.

“That is why I invented this device.” he said proudly. “It continually produces electricity! Well...more or less. Where my sparking disk you’ve already seen merely stores a static charge that needs to be replenished, this device consistently provides electricity!”

“How does it work, Alessandro?” Traveler asked, walking around it. He was delighted to be able to see the actual, original, working prototype and Volta was anxious to explain.

“I discovered that if you stack disks of certain alternating metals, in this case, copper and zinc, and between them wedge the pieces of cardboard soaked in brine, an electric...” he hesitated, searching for the right word.

″...current, I suppose, is a good word, is produced. The taller you make the column, the more electricity is produced. That is why I made the top removable. One can adjust the amount of electricity needed for whatever purpose you have in mind.” he said with pride.

Traveler did not want to give too much away about what would become of Volta’s invention but he couldn’t help asking the man what he had thought about doing with it already.

“Well, the first thing I’m going to do is show Galvani that he is wrong about his electric frogs legs. The movement that he generates within them is not due to some electrical force within the legs but merely the external electricity he provides traveling through the fluids inside them. Like the brine soaked disks in my column. I’m sure if the frog legs were all dried out, he would not achieve the same effect.” the scientist concluded smugly.

The time traveler wanted so badly to hook a simple, small light bulb he had in his pocket to the leads protruding from the top of the column to see Volta’s expression when it lit up but knew for the sake of the causality of his world, he could not do that. Rather than press the scientist for a demonstration he knew it best just to let things progress as they would. They had delivered Priestly’s letter and that was enough to allow events to play themselves out to the desired end. Except for one last, crucial thing...

“I think you’re onto something extraordinary, Alessandro.” Traveler said. He then prompted Rædis, who had fallen into sullen silence.

“Rædis, give Alessandro the final piece of equipment we have brought for him.”

Rædis snapped out of the mood he was in and put on a more amiable expression. He produced from his pocket an elegant glass pistol with a cork stuck in the end of the barrel. Inside was a delicate twist of copper wires with two leads sticking out of the butt of the gun. He handed it over to Volta.

“Here. This will help you with your inflammable air research. It is much easier to fill with the gasses you wish to test. Upon trapping the various gasses within, touch these two leads to your eternal sparking disk and if the gas ignites, it will pop the cork off the end.” the machine explained.

Volta’s eyes widened at the sight of the beautifully crafted object.

“Thanks you very much, my friends. This is brilliant!.” he exclaimed as he turned the pistol over in his hands, rubbing his fingers over its smooth contours.

“And that is what I wanted to bring you Alessandro. Just a few items to help you along. Oh, and the letter, of course. I’m afraid we must be going now.” Traveler said, extending his hand.

Volta clasped it and shook it heartily.

“I appreciate your gifts, Senioré Traveler. And, it was a pleasure to meet you Senioré Rædis.”

“My pleasure, Alessandro Volta. Good luck with your endeavors.” Rædis said with a smile.

“See you around, Alessandro.” Traveler said as they made their way to the door of Volta’s house.

They began their walk to the barn on the edge of town where Traveler had hidden his time machine. He was thankful they did not have to trudge back through any swamps to reach it.

Rædis was silent most of the way back. He had disappeared for a moment after leaving Volta’s place. Traveler noticed he no longer had the cat skin with him he had taken from Volta earlier but did not ask what the Robot had done with it.

“What’s wrong?” Traveler asked after about a mile.

“Nothing.” Rædis replied.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. Is it the cat and the frogs business?” Traveler persisted.

Rædis didn’t say anything for a few paces then looked over at his friend with his hands in his pockets as he walked.

“No, it’s not that. I just thought our mission would be...well, more exciting than that. Y’know, more stuff to do.” he said, genuinely disappointed.

Traveler smiled, pausing to light a cigarette. He shielded the match he used from the breeze blowing the cool air with a cupped hand. The flare of the match lit up his brown eyes as he looked at his friend.

“I told you when we first arrived all we needed to do was deliver Priestly’s letter and give him the glass pistol.” he said, exhaling a stream of smoke that mingled with the warmth of his breath as he walked. “We’ve set in motion a chain of events that will ultimately lead to the creation of automobiles in oh, about a hundred years from now.”

“How?” Rædis asked simply.

“Like this: Priestly’s creation of carbonated water goes on to be used in health spas, across Europe. It is put into bottles that spray it out of nozzles that atomize the liquid. Like in a perfume or cologne spray. In about sixty or so years, a man called Drake will discover oil in a place called Pennsylvania near the city where I was born. It will be realized the oil can be refined into a combustible fuel which will power the first motors but not until a way is figured out how to ignite it efficiently enough to burn evenly.

Priestly’s atomizing scent spray nozzles will prove an ideal way to inject the atomized fuel into a smaller version of Wilkenson’s cylinders via a carburetor, which will be ignited by...” he let his sentence hang for Rædis to make the connection.

“Volta’s spark. From the glass gun we just gave him.” Rædis said, finally smiling.

“Exactly. The dudes who put it all together are called Maybach and Benz and they name their creation after one of their daughters. I forget which one but her name was or will be, rather...” Traveler urged Rædis on with a gesture to fill in the name.

“I bet it is Mercedes”. Rædis finished, completing the chain of events, the whole picture now forming in his mind.

“Yep! You’ve got it. The first car. You see Ræ, proper and good time travel isn’t always about saving planets from horrible cataclysms or altering the future of everyone in the pool of time, it’s about gently nudging causality and promoting meaningful and fun change without causing conflicting ripples in the pool of time. It’s a very delicate and difficult thing to do. I’ve spent half my life learning the skills to do it without fucking up how events in the universe play out. Well...without fucking up too much.” he concluded. “So cheer up. We did good work today.” he said cheerily.

They reached the time machine and boarded, taking their usual seats.

“C’mon. Let’s go forward a couple hundred year, procure ourselves some bitchin’ rides and have a race. What do ya say?” Traveler offered.

“Okay.” Rædis conceded. “But I get to pick them.”

“Fair enough, my friend.” Traveler said, clapping Rædis on his shoulder. “Yer on.”

“Why, out of all the people in this chain of events, did you decide to help Volta?” Rædis asked as the time machine’s engines were engaged.

“I like Volta. He’s Italian. He’s got syle.” Traveler smiled. He was extremely pleased with the trip. Normally, he hated traveling to olde tyme eras of his homeworld. Most of the population was ignorant, annoyingly religious and violent. Disease and plagues were rampant. Hygiene was typically an afterthought, at least his standards of hygiene and the vehicles were lame, slow and depended on animal power. This mission, however, would change the vehicle problem at least and he was satisfied with that.

With a job well done, they slipped into the future to enjoy what they had set into motion.

Jews in Budapest

(doing what they thought best)

stepped on the bank

of the blue Danube.

Assassins yelled

“Remove your shoes!” —

then BANG!

shot them dead…

60 pair of iron shoes

waiting

at river’s bank,

an empty ghost-filled crowd.

Standing still

after war-torn souls

stepped into Eternity,

leaving their footprints behind.

Copyright 2020

REF: https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/shoes-on-the-danube-promenade

'It was that gent! Mr.Robert Catesby. He planned it all!'

My dress suffocates me! I really do hate the black tailcoat which itches my body very badly. I feel the ruffles. Well, I need to get accustomed to it now of course. The black hem wraps itself around my slender body. My hands are sweating beneath the white gloves and my hair neatly combed behind. I need to keep an eye everywhere, well, just in case.

The day has come, the big day! For both of us- me and the King himself! I will be proclaimed the minister of King James I. For me and the Catholics, a dream come true and for him- a lasting memory! I could feel eyes peering behind me, doubting my actions. I walk forward, following His Majesty and bow down- respectfully. The hall is brightly lit and decorated. The parliament, where the ceremony was taking place, was filled with world-class delegates. And suddenly, I hear the sound of marching feet. 'It was that gent!' I turn to find a trembling finger pointing towards me. Fawkes! And that's when my destiny, my fate changed~ Forever and ever! And I hold myself responsible!

November 4, 1602

The carriage moves over the rough road. I doze off to slumber. My head nods quietly as my body rocks side to side. My trusted mates sleep by my side- well aware.

The whites- the oppressors. Us Catholics? Well, the oppressed. The red burns on my father's back turns pale- just to show up all over again tomorrow. The lashes go down on his back. The boot thrusts his gut. The eye of the English peers down upon the Catholics. And we suffer. Daily.

The thumping of hooves reminds me of the whips that sucked my father's blood. I inhale the unforgivable stench of pure Catholic Blood in the England air.

"The persecution of Roman Catholics by the English government has to end. In the hope to replace the country’s Protestant government with Catholic leadership, my blood boils.....Our blood boils."

March 6, 1603

"I, King James I introduce to thee my trusted assistant- Robert Catesby!" I hear my name. I see people applauding, cheering. I see people making a toast in my name. I see people- the whites, The English. My blood boils.

The steps down the cellar creaks. I am well aware of the fact that now I hold a big name in the King's heart. Well, this comes with multiple privileges! "Uh, I need to check for documents in the cellar." A well said lie. I open the door of the parliament cellar to find my accomplice surrounding the table, formulating a plan.

Voices overlap.

"Let's do it on the 7th of the coming June."

"I agree, anyways, 7th is 'perfect number of God' "

"No way! Not so fast!"

I put my hand up and a hush fills the room. Well, what can I say, I like to be in control.

"We do it on a busy day, with hundreds of delegates. We do it on 5th of November 1605. The day when I gain the full trust of the King himself. The day when hundreds of delegates would come together in the Parliament. The day I supposedly become the minister. The celebration is so important that planning has already started. We will make this a success. To the glory of Catholics!"

"To the glory of Catholics!"

November 3, 1605 (T-minus 2 days)

Our beards have grown. The strong framework of ribs can be seen through our emaciated body. We look a little better than stick ourselves- well, everyone but me. I am well-fed by the King's maids and live my life to the fullest. The fact that this will all be over in two days lingers at the back of my mind.

The carts are loaded. The goods have been transported through the secret passageway and into the dark cellar, kept well away from the mice. No men are supposed to light a cigar inside the cellar for two days, well just in case.

11:00 pm

I just had a major fright. The second minister, Mr. Carros found me lurking by the cellar. I just smirked and told that some documents had to be retrieved from the cellar. I have not told this to my fellow teammates. I just hope Mr. Carros did not find anything suspicious. I remind myself that All is Well.

November 4, 1605. (T-minus 1 day)

I have not slept a bit. My teammates are snoring away like they have not a care in the world. I pray to Mother Mary for the ripened fruits of success.

The sleepless nights. The empty stomachs. The dry throats and the burning backs with red lash marks. We need Justice! We need Freedom!

11:30 pm

"Mr. Catesby! You are needed at the chamber."

This shook me back to reality.

Had they suspected anything?

Oh Mother Mary! This cannot be happening!

THUD! Gasp!

A commotion follows.

I move forward, wanting to look behind but stay impotent. I stay aloof, the fear lingering at the back of my mind.

(The soldiers march down the cellar. The door is broken open to reveal six men sleeping soundly, now wide awake.

The mice scurried away as the hands are cuffed uptight. The young man, Fawkes is taken into custody and the goods discovered.

"How many of them?"

"36 barrels of gunpowder sir!"

"Thirty-six! Oh Lord have mercy!")

"Mr. Catesby, we have found six men under the cellar who were planning something big. We have them under our custody. We also found them having thirty-six barrels of gun powder!"

"Thirty-six! Oh Lord have mercy!" I exclaimed. Really, Lord have mercy upon us!

November 6th, 1605 (MISSION FAILED)

"Let the six men be executed for treason and treachery! May no such devils reign over England ever again! Long live the King!"

"Long live the King!"

(The ring of those last words still in my ears)

Gavel thuds.

Day One,

hello, look who's here.

Is it a boy or a girl?

The new wonders of our mini world.

Day One the start of your life

and you don't even remember what it took

for you to take that first breath.

Some took forever, some almost never made it,

but it is never easy for any of us when taking that first breath.

It IS the hardest thing you've ever done and you don't even remember.

Day One without that first breath

there is no day two.

Day One the day we come to earth making our way

taking that first big breath

not knowing what's ahead.

Day One did you take your first breath

under the full moon or rising sun?

Day One The Most Improtant Day,

the day you took your first breath.

and you don't even remember.

That is a shame.

THE MOST IMPORTANT MOMENT OF EVERY LIFE

IS YOUR FIRST BREATH.

There is an island called Banana, it is inhabited by banana trees.

It root rests on the very essence of existence

This island is as old as time, the birthplace of life,

all the bananas on the island are alive

They are all fresh with colours ranging from different shades of black,

different looking but sweeter than any other

Another island lies across the great waters of civilization,

It is the home of a different creature

A more compose specie with a philosophy of superiority,

their island is called the New World and inhabited by light skin monkeys

Many a thing was amazingly developed in the New World,

but amongst all, their most precious possession is a floating object that can take them anywhere in the world

Even if though mother nature gave birth to distance, love, unity, compassion and balance,

one day an army of light skin monkeys invaded Banana Island

Ferociously the Monkeys attacked the Banana island pulling its mouth from the tender breast of mother nature,

Wrecking its soul, breaking its spirit and drinking its blood

Destroying their roots, and capturing their motherland, replacing love, and happiness with sorrow, and permanent scars,

branding them a lesser being, and labelling them as worthless animals even when the root of all the knowledge they own resides in Banana island

Erasing, and rewriting their history while deciding their future,

assassinating who, and what they truly are, bathing their culture with dirt and baptizing it with mud

But those living bananas weren’t animals, they were berries,

the true animals were the educated monkeys, there were the lower species

A specie born with divine power and superior abilities printed in their DNA is what the bananas are,

a specie who isn’t recessive but rather the whole spectrum of existence is what the bananas are

The blacker the berry, the more power in their roots,

those powerful roots of the bananas are what the monkeys will never own or rule.

Jazz band was in full swing when Mama came back,

Swaying with that flirty smile that seduced Daddy

As she set down some cold ones on the bar.

Sinai sat beneath the bar, watching that skirt shake

As she fixed up some food and lit cigarettes.

Clang of dimes hit the bar just as the crescendo

Filled the bar with life and the people applauded

With fast tapping feet and moving skirts

That occasionally clouded Sinai's peephole.

One day, she'd be on that stage, singing

The deep sultry sorrows of the Blue Lady

And her cheating husband who's away

While she sits in the empty house, swigging

Jim Beam and wondering when the hurt will end.

The men will hoop and holler at her,

In an emerald dress with gold earrings,

Saying they'll treat her better like she doesn't know

Already that men are trouble that write songs.

Resting her head against the vibrating bar,

A smirk spreads across Sinai's face as she dreams

Of standing there, singing the sorrows of her mama

Who sways her seductive hips to pay the rent

Now that her man ran off with someone else,

And making enough to help them both escape.

Freedom,

at the expense

of others—

who gave away their tomorrows

to give us our todays.

Copyright 2020

A History of Slaves- Introduction

“If they weren't fast enough, they would soon be slaves. And slaves were property, and property was money and power.” 

― E.Y. Laster, Of Captivity & Kings

Slavery formed an important part of the nineteenth century. It was ordinary to have slaves around. If we go back even further in history, we find that it was absolutely essential to the economic structures of civilizations like Ancient Greek and Rome. Slavery has continued through history, and only recently, has it been partly eradicated. If we move a little further, to about the 15th century, when the Atlantic Slave Trade began, when Portugal, and subsequently other European kingdoms, were finally able to expand overseas and reach Africa, we find that here, too, it was a necessary part of everyday life.

We regularly hear that slavery is one of the darkest chapters in history. But what exactly, is wrong with slavery? After all it provided a steady economy to countries in Europe, to the USA, and even to African countries, from where these slaves were bought in the first place, in exchange for guns and ammunition. Why is slavery so wrong?

I believe that there are three major reasons, the three pillars, the three horsemen of slavery, and it’s aftereffects, which will provide us with this answer.

Racism

The Trans-Atlantic slave trade which began as a means of providing labour, grew to be the main reason of one the greatest issue we have ever seen. Racism.

Forced labour was not uncommon — Africans and Europeans had been trading goods and people across the Mediterranean for centuries — but enslavement had not been based on race. There was a labour shortage in the European countries and the USA, and slaves were bought from Africa. Since their skin was of a darker complexion than that of the Europeans, all the blacks came to be viewed as inferiors. This distinction evolved as the years passed.

Daryl Davis describes in his Ted-Talk, this evolution as not one whole step, but a combination of steps. As the generations passed, slavery started becoming less of an issue, since it was abolished in many countries, and the world returned to normalcy. But the newer generations, who had not experienced slavery first-hand, had only little idea about this other race, which they had been told was inferior to them. And since they did not have enough information about this other race, they came to be afraid of it. Because when we don’t understand something, we naturally become scared of it, afraid of it. We view it as something different, something alien to us. And this fear, in turn, gives rise to hate. When we’re scared of something, we start hating it, we start loathing it. And as the final step, this hate, obviously, turns to destruction. And that is precisely what the slave trade, which was eradicated one and a half centuries ago, has done to the present era, and the world we are living in. Ignorance breeds fear, fear breeds hate, and finally, hate breeds destruction. And so, I would like to move forward by noting that slavery is directly responsible for instances of racism and movements against these instances like the ‘Black Lives Matter’ in the modern era.

Whenever we talk about the Black movements, one prominent name that always comes up is that of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Dr. King’s method to promote freedom and equality before the law for this oppressed minority was non-violent civil disobedience against unjust laws, such as laws banning black citizens from using certain public facilities.  When the authorities refused to permit protest marches, he would lead such marches nevertheless.  Among these was a series of three marches from Selma to Montgomery in the state of Alabama in 1965 to promote voter registration among the black population. These marches resulted in mass arrests and police violence against the protesters, which in turn attracted worldwide media coverage and a flood of new supporters for Dr. King’s movement.

Dr. King always insisted that his supporters refrain from any violent response to the violence inflicted on them. Engaged politically, he emphasized the right to vote as a means of achieving social progress through peaceful means. He often publicly acknowledged that he was likely to die from an assassin’s bullet, which, tragically, is indeed what happened. But not in vain, because the flame that he lit, the fire he ignited in our hearts, will burn tirelessly, everlastingly. His life would not be in vain, because justice will be given to those who deserve it.

Cruelty

Another point we often hear is that slavery was connected to cruelty. The treatment given to the slaves was inhumane, no doubt. And this point could not be more relevant today. The Trans-Atlantic slave trade, which began as early as the 15th century, introduced a system of slavery that was commercialized, racialized and inherited. Enslaved people were seen not as people at all but as commodities to be bought, sold and exploited.

The traders were tight packers. The captives were packed like spoons, with not even space to turn. The male slaves were kept between the hold and the deck in appalling conditions, and the women were kept on the deck, where they were regularly abused by the crew members. Diseases like the Black Death were common, and captives often succumbed to these. Hundreds of slaves were kept together, and this made the spread even quicker. Out of those who survived, many committed suicide and starved themselves to death willingly, to escape the brutalities they faced.

Food was scarce. The captives only received food when there was a significant surplus. The sailors ate first, and if anything remained, it was given to the slaves (which was not a lot of times, since it was seldom that the sailors left anything). They were handcuffed, and were treated as a source of entertainment onboard so that they wouldn’t revolt. The records of these brutalities support my point, and hence, I conclude this point.

Ownership

But the one point which tops both of the above mentioned arguments, is ownership. The right of one human over another. The ownership of a peer. That, in my view, is the one thing, that is absolutely, undeniably, wrong with slavery. This discrimination between the slave and the master, can still be seen all around the globe, where certain communities believe that they are superior to others. If you think about it, we have seen this several times in history, but we just don’t learn from our mistakes. The Nazis did it, the Whites did, and after almost a century has passed, we still see these instances.

Abolition

Now, since we’re talking about slavery, another thing that forms a part of the argument is the abolition of it. First, I would like to debunk the myth that slavery was abolished for moral reasons. It was done completely for prudential and economic reasons.

In the late 18th century the climate of public opinion began to change, slowly at first, but gradually gaining momentum.

The Society of Friends, a religious group, were one of the first to oppose the slave trade. William Wilberforce, Thomas Clarkson, John Newton, Granville Sharp, Olaudah Equiano and many others, joined the Abolitionist movement. Each contributed something different, but all having an impact on the move towards Abolition. 

A decline in the economic importance of slavery meant Britain’s economy was no longer dependent on the triangular trade. Additionally a new source of wealth was created by the growth of new industries. 

Abolitionists understood that the only way to end slavery was through Parliament. They presented their arguments across the country, lobbying MPs to try and persuade them to end the slave trade. In 1807 the British Parliament was finally persuaded that Britain’s involvement in the slave trade should come to an end.

In the USA, Slave labour was no match for canals, railroads, steel mills and shipyards. Slavery — and the parochial rent-seeking culture it promoted — inhibited the growth of capitalism in the South. Ultimately, it was Northern industrial might that ended that peculiar institution in the U.S. once and for all

By doing this, it was made clear that the abolition of slavery was carried out only for the sole reason of economic benefits. There were no moral reasons for this development, except of course, there were some groups that were actually concerned. And hence, although slavery was abolished, the reason for which it was done is completely unacceptable.

Conclusion

Equality becomes increasingly important in these turbulent times. Having given these three main arguments of my topic, I would like to conclude by saying that this, is precisely what was and still is wrong with slavery. Slavery, in my opinion, can be classified as the root to several social evils that now exist.

We saw above how the slaves were mistreated, I gave several examples, but one important thing to note is that these instances are not exclusive to just one era of slavery. These are common to every page of history, every time period where slavery has taken place, every time a price has been put on human life, every time someone sold a man in exchange for money. Whether it was the United States of America, Ancient Greece, Mesopotamia (Now Iraq) or Ancient Rome. Millions of human lives, captured by force, kept in ships like animals, only worse; their heads shaved to prevent lice, handcuffed to the belly of the ship, twenty percent of whom, would never see land again, in their entire lives.

But we have a chance to bring change; we have a chance to change the path of history, to rewrite the pages of textbooks. In today’s era, where things like racial justice play a significant role in our lives and the events around the world, it becomes all the more important to educate ourselves. Educating ourselves is perhaps the one and only way to break the chain, to defy the system and then rebuild it in our own manner.

Footnotes:

Sources:

-A Brief History of Slavery That You Didn't Learn in School- https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/08/19/magazine/history-slavery-smithsonian.html

-United States of America: Slavery, Racial Discrimination, and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

https://mr.usembassy.gov/united-states-america-slavery-racial-discrimination-dr-martin-luther-king-jr

-Why I, as a black man, attend KKK rallies- Daryl Davis TEDx

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORp3q1Oaezw

-What is wrong with slavery?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUB11cTSJc0

You have lived a peaceful life

Until the Spaniards came

And ruled 333 years above you

And then the Americans

Who ruled for 48 years more

And then the Japanese

Who ruled during World War II

How are you, Philippines?

You have lived a peaceful life

After you were recognized in 1946

Until Martial law came

It lasted 9 years

But made the strongest impact of all

Since the Fourth Republic dissolved in 1986

You have lived a peaceful life

How are you, Philippines?

Are your scars healed?

Since the years of colonization and brutality

Have you reposed in peace?

How are you, Philippines?