The Perfect Order
1
The light had once again gathered around, and the darkness did not prevail. The fire towered above his soul as the east wind blew the mist away. Ever so fragile... He rose again. For the last stretch was already on the horizon, and the waves had folded back on themselves.
I was changed, altered and twisted. I felt defiled.
I was better, higher, but could not reach him. Maybe he had changed as well. Maybe he had forgotten me, maybe I him... He was alone, cold and once again destroyed.
The walls and floorboards of the small fisherman’s hut were long rotten away. The cracks in them welcomed the humid smell of iodine and washed-up fish carcasses. The feeling of death and despair reigned in the small room. He sat on the small mattress, shivering, and observed the small hut, the nets, the rods, the broken oars. Once again, he didn’t know how he got to the place he was, but something was different. He wasn’t confused. He was content. He looked at the basket of colorful herbs and roots in his lap and sighed with relief. He took one of the roots, snapped it, and inhaled the dusty explosions. He looked better and more lucid in seconds. The broken window of the hut and his shirt caked with blood, however, indicated that his presence wouldn’t go unnoticed for very long.
He got up and walked with extreme care. As he made for the door, some of his steps cracked the rotten floorboards. He had to fight the wind to open the door. Once he did, the cold, wet wind blasted the room and shook every object that wasn’t fixed to the floor. The sound of dropping objects rang in his ears like a church bell as he stepped onto the black sands of the beach. He walked among a graveyard of an innumerable variety of aquatic life, all pointing towards his lonely cabin on this vast beach, where all life withered with unnatural haste.
Among the many carcasses, lay a dying goliath. It looked and smelled as if it had been there the longest, but it still refused to die. The beast had three heads, and each head was carved with a name, and had three knives driven deep into each slender neck. The names were the names of the harpooners it had escaped. The pure malice emanating from the beast shook the air. The waves washed the shore but didn’t touch the beast. For the beast was a rejection of life itself. As he walked on, he couldn’t keep his eyes off it. He came close. And then closer. As he touched the beast, it shook the ground with a growl and turned slowly. Their eyes met.
The beast bowed to Slow with all three heads and then presented the knives, which were all that was keeping it alive. Slow delicately pulled out the first knife. Black blood gushed from the wound and defiled the beach. He took out the second knife and the blood flowed into the sea and made it boil with rage. The beast looked at Slow in respect and reverence as he pulled out the last knife. The beast was dead, and its black blood pooled around Slow’s feet. He showed no sign of fear as it climbed up to his body. It slowly covered his whole body. He was still smiling when the darkness took him again.
2
When he finally woke up, he was lying in the middle of a big hall, lit by many braziers that raged on like drakes in the night. The house was enormous, it was long and made out of wood. It was not rotten like his cabin on the beach. It was warm and comforting, like the stately residences that belong to kings of old. His wounds were tended, and his head was clear. He was surrounded by ragged men and women. They looked at him with no visible emotions in their eyes. The oldest among them walked towards Slow as he tried to get up.
Old man: Don’t try to get up and waste our precious work by blowing out your stitches.
Slow: Hey... Thank you.
Old man: We don’t do that here. It had to be done and it is done. I am the head of this family. Who are you? And why did we find you washed up on our shores?
Slow: That’s a question I’ve been asking for some time now. I don’t know my name or why I’m here. I thought I was dead for a while. Maybe I am. Am I, Chief?
Old man: Our island is not a place where you can get washed up unconscious. You must know the way. And no, you are not dead. But it can be arranged swiftly if I’m not satisfied with your cocky answers.
Slow: I apologize, I don’t feel too good. I didn’t mean any offence. I remember very few things. A name... And a dream.
Chief: Speak.
Slow: “Jeff”
Chief: Jeff? That’s sad... but it will do for now. Tell me of this dream then, Jeff.
As Slow started to tell the Chief what he remembered from his dream, more people with different faces started to gather around him. They listened with great attention and care. Even the few children in the room were dead serious. He told them of a city of fools and of people that surrounded the streets like chains of meat. He told them about a shining giant who knew all but could not move. A crazed man, drenched in red blood. And a palace engulfed in flames. You could see in his eyes that he remembered the beach and the beast. But he stayed silent. His story was over. Suddenly, a heavy murmur started within the crowd. They seemed distressed but curious. This went on for a couple of minutes until the chief stopped thinking and raised his hand. The rumble of the crowd had ended as fast as it started. Silence took over.
Chief: It wasn’t a dream my boy, I know who led you here. “The shining giant”, we all have seen him one way or the other. His name is “The Rememberer”. Even though we all have seen him, we also didn’t know why we were here once. And after a while, we stopped asking why. It has been years since another one arrived at our shores, pardon our prejudice. You eased our hearts with your story... You are welcome in my family. Rest now. Tomorrow, there is work.
3
The next morning, Slow joined the men to fish, they fished large creatures unknown to the world. None of the creatures struggled, they all embraced their fate. Otherwise, their size would make it impossible for the fisherman to catch them. Slow worked the hardest, the men were pleased. And later, he worked alongside women, they butchered the creatures together, draining their dark blood. Slow worked hard here as well, and women were also pleased.
As the days went by, they grew accustomed to him. They accepted him in their family. He also met with the other two families that were on the other side of the island. They praised him for his work. They all secretly envied the Chief and his family for having Slow. He gained all the trust they could spare. Days passed by... Slow observed the people, their relations, their passions and even how they move.
This island, its inhabitants, and nature itself, was the opposite of everything that the city was. The island was formless, ever-changing, uncertain, dark and full of pure essence. It was primordial. You could feel life and death were brewing in the same pot simultaneously. It was the bed of life. Slow could feel it too. Years passed as he studied the island. And in the end, he grasped it. He learned the wisdom of chaos. But when he did, the island and everyone on it grew incredibly boring for him. He couldn’t take it anymore. Something pushed him from inside, a malicious instinct. He felt like an egg about to hatch. And one day he cracked...
It all started as a joke. He covered the pier of another family with slimy black blood, and he watched from afar, laughing as they fell left and right from the pier into the dark waters. Later in a meeting, he told them in secret that it was the other family who did it. He watched as the two families argued. The first dispute on this island. First irregularity in this inconceivable system. It gave Slow great amusement. He felt alive. Then things got worse, the two families decided it was neither of them who did this and that it was the Chief’s family, trying to distract them to get more of the fish. Their secret envy of Chief was the kindle that started it all.
4
One early morning. A kid smelled fire and woke up before all. When he looked out the window, he was terrified of what he had seen. He woke up his mother, mother woke Chief up. But no matter how many people were awake, there was none among them that could change the fact that their boat was in flames. They all cried in sorrow except for the one who faked it. They took up arms, knives, tools, sticks and torches. They went out for revenge, except the one who stayed. Both were Slow of course. He felt guilt for the things he caused; he was also deadly afraid of what they would do to him if they found out. Slow thought of the kids hiding in the basement in fear. Not knowing if their loved ones would return. He felt the malice that protected him all this time withering away as minutes passed. He had a choice to make.
He ran with every fiber of his being, his feet bled and his eyes watered, but his guilt made him keep going. When he reached the village, they had already begun destroying everything in sight with bloodlust in their eyes. The other family also got out of their houses and things were about to take a really bad turn as the two families faced each other in the village square. While Slow was trying to separate the ones who got too close to fighting, the yelling and the shouting of the crowd became unintelligible.
Slow, in an attempt to end the dispute, screamed his crimes in tears to both of the families. As he finished, silence took hold. The only audible thing left was his sobbing. A movement, a split in the ranks of the other family had started. They gave way for the head of their family to pass. Bart was a man of justice and logic, took pride in being this way and Chief also respected his wisdom. When Bart came in front of the crowd, there was no malice or hatred in his eyes. Slow was in the middle of these two honorable leaders. Bart spoke first, looking at the sunrise on the horizon.
Bart: I see now... I finally see how low a man can get with my very own eyes. I must say how disappointed I am. Jeff, my boy. Since you came to this island, we all admired you for your hard work and honesty. You have integrity, wit and most important of all... Loyalty. You are so loyal that you lie to all of us to save your family.
Slow: Bart! No, I mean it...
Bart: No need for that anymore my son. For putting you in this situation, Jack doesn’t deserve a loyal friend like you. And for the crimes he made his family commit... He doesn’t deserve to live!
As Bart finished his words, he pointed a rusty pistol at Jack. Everybody gasped, they had never seen a gun in their time on this island. As Bart’s face turned dark, Slow felt a darkness in the air that moved him. He spat out black blood. The Beast was finally here... A thought crossed his mind... He acted fast.
Two shots were heard as the smoke of the foul powder filled the air like thick mist. When it finally cleared off, everybody froze in panic at the sight of what had happened. Slow caught both bullets. Black blood stained his clothes as he came to himself. When the pain kicked in, he got up and started running towards the cliffs. In shock, the only thing that passed his mind was to take his own life before he bled out... He didn’t want to burden them with the guilt of his death and defile their purity. The villagers, who witnessed neither death nor murder before, cried in terror...
Bart: What... What have I done... We must get to him! Tend to his wounds! Oh, my boy... I am so sorry.
Jack: Everybody! Catch him before he bleeds out! RUN NOW!
Hearing the cries of the crowd following him, Slow ran even faster. In pain, he thought the villagers were coming to finish him. As he reached the tree by the cliff where he spent most of his spare time, meditating, ruminating to understand the nature of the island, his run turned to a walk, then to small steps. He leaned on the old tree like an old friend.
He felt his heart soften, and then a light filled him and mixed into the darkness within him. He thought of the order on this island that he mastered. As life and death, boiled in his veins, the light and dark filled his soul the same way. He was finally one with the island. He was finally one with himself. He experienced the singularity that no living thing had ever dared to dream before.
Seconds turned to lifetimes as he fell from the white cliffs. During this time, his soul covered the whole of existence. It travelled to places no one had ever been to and witnessed things that no one would ever believe. He was finally ready. He greeted death as his own, as it welcomed him into its cold embrace.
I
Lived.
Alone,
In a Dream.
To Escape the End.
To Find Myself in It...
I Sink!
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