Birth of a Dark Nation (24 page)

Over the next few months, Dominique lived
with Ariori, first in the hut he shared with several others, then
in a hut he built for the both of them. She taught him French; he
taught her the Yoruba dialect of our people. They were very much in
love and it became apparent that Dominique was with us to stay.

We learned from her that there were others on
Dominica, besides us and the Kalinago. There were, indeed, white
people living on the other side of the craggy rocks and dangerous
terrain. The French were colonizing Dominica, already harvesting
acres of lumber to make way for coffee plantations.

Dominique's family owned a trading company
that was trying to exploit the island's resources for their own
financial gain, but because it just wasn't built for the type of
agriculture that supported cotton or tobacco, the family was losing
money. Dominique's brother was sent to oversee the endeavor;
Dominique was allowed to go along for the adventure and to learn
the family business.

As she told us, the Frenchmen were abusing
her. She did not say to what extent, but the shame was palpable.
She escaped to the beach every day to avoid the Frenchmen that her
brother turned a blind eye to. She decided that she would not
return when she discovered us.

Not too much time had passed before Dominique
became one of us, through and through. She was properly initiated
in all of our religious rites. Ariori asked for her hand in
marriage shortly thereafter, and she was made a bride of the
Razadi.

Ariori never drank from her. He only ever
drank from the wild boar we caught. His restraint is legendary,
even to this day. Dominique knew exactly who and what we were, but
had perfect faith that Ariori would not harm her.

There was one night when the Frenchmen came
dangerously close to discovering our village. We knew the day would
come when they came for Dominique, but we were prepared. We knew
that the beings that had enslaved us were nowhere near and we hoped
to never encounter them again. Should we be attacked by any other
beings, they would become meals.

And meals they were. A dozen men came looking
for a fight and they got one. The weakest of the men was bound to a
tree and forced to watch as all eleven of his fellow men were
drained to death by scores of Razadi. If the message given to him
by witnessing the carnage was not clear enough, Dominique made it
plain to him in their language: "I am safe here, but you are not.
Leave and don't return. I am with my people."

The surviving Frenchman was sent back to
their camp. The next morning, we carried the drained bodies on
funeral pallets across the island to the fort that the French were
constructing. Dominique spoke to her brother for a final time and
again warned the French that the Razadi were undefeatable. Her
brother consented and left us alone.

Dominique gave up everything to live among
us: her family, her life in France, her immense wealth. I never
quite understood why she so readily gave up her lifestyle to be one
with ours, but she was still accepted. In time, she would become
our matriarch, Mama Dominique, if she wanted.

Months later, a spy from our village visited
the French fort only to discover that it had been abandoned. The
French had left Dominica, and both the Kilanago and Razadi could
now enjoy true peace. Dominique showed no emotion for the
abandonment of the island by her kinfolk. She, too, was content
with being alone.

Months became years and Ariori and
Dominique's love only grew, as did her commitment to our people.
She learned the ways of a Razadi healer and was indispensable to us
when we became injured.

As would have been the case back in Africa,
Dominique and Ariori were unable to conceive a child. It seemed as
though whatever issues my people had with reproduction were carried
along through our men. Although their love did not waver, it was
plain that Dominique was disappointed that their union would
produce no heirs.

Early one morning, a few years after we had
landed on Dominica, a ship appeared on the horizon, the first one
we'd seen coming toward our cove. Dominique immediately recognized
the flags flying on the ship as her family crest. She was annoyed
to have to send her family back home as soon as they had come, but
she made it plain that they must not stay. Babarinde approved a
small team to meet the ship down at the beach along with Dominique:
Ariori, Eşusanya, Ogundiya, and me.

It took us about half an hour to get down to
the beach. By that time, two unarmed white men had already rowed a
boat from the ship to the shore and were waiting for us.

Dominique was livid. One of the men greeted
her and she slapped him, leaving a red imprint on his face. She
immediately cursed him in French, speaking faster and more
furiously than I'd ever heard her speak. She pointed in his face
and then back at the ship, demanding that he leave. The exchange
went on endlessly. Ultimately, the men would not back down.

Finally, Dominique turned to her husband and
explained what was happening.

"This man is my brother, the same one who
traveled with me to this island years ago. Our parents are on the
ship and are insisting to see me."

"Why don't they come off the ship?" Ariori
asked.

"They're afraid, so my brother said."

"Do you want to see them?"

"Let's just go and get this over with. I need
to make it clear to them that this is my home. Aragbaye, come with
us please."

I agreed without hesitation. Eşusanya and
Ogundiya stayed behind on the beach while Ariori and I rowed to the
ship with Dominique regally looking on. Her brother and his mate
stayed behind as collateral under my brothers' watchful eyes.

We rowed hard, hoping to get to the ship
quickly and then hurry back. Dominique was ready to sever these
ties and move on with the rest of her life and we were eager to be
rid of the Frenchmen for good.

We carefully climbed up the rope ladders that
the sailors lowered for us. When we reached the top, friendly
Frenchmen assisted us over the guardrail.

With muskets.

"We should have brought our guns," Ariori
hissed at me.

"We ran out of bullets hunting boar years
ago," I said.

About a dozen Frenchmen had their rifles
raised at the three of us in silence. Ariori and I sized them up as
we backed against the guardrail of the ship, protecting Dominique
with our bodies.

"Put me in front, they won't shoot me," she
demanded.

"No," Ariori said. "Stay back."

"Where is my father?" she asked the men in
French.

"Waiting for you in Nice," the leader of the
dozen white men said.

"It's a trap!" Ariori shouted. We bared our
fangs and instituted the offensive we hoped we'd never have to use.
For as long as we'd been on the island, we knew that guns were out
there and we could not fight them unless we had our own. And
because we were fundamentally peaceful, we didn't seek out new guns
to own. All we wanted was a quiet existence. But we knew a day
could come when men with guns would come back for us.

I charged the men, aiming at their heels,
rather than their hearts. We'd need to topple them, then kill them,
then drink them. We could not aim for their heads or their hearts
because they would protect those. We had to rely on our most
animalistic instincts and tear at their tendons and joints,
disabling them.

In the twinkling of an eye, I took down three
of the men. Blood sprayed from their gashes I made in their shins
and calves. Ariori did the same, tearing into two of the men.

In the end, only two shots were fired: one
into Ariori's head and one into my shoulder. Dominique screamed as
Ariori fell onto the deck of the ship. I continued on, trying to
move to Dominique to protect her, but it was too late. The bullet
tore into my shoulder from behind and out the front, exiting my
body and sailing off into the air above the ocean.

I stumbled toward the railing, looking at
Dominique one last time before the remaining Frenchmen carted her
off below deck. Her screams were blood-curdling; they were the
wails of grief.

I toppled over the edge of the ship and
plummeted into the ocean. My left arm was practically useless—it
was numb, weak, and uncooperative. My right arm and my legs kept me
afloat.

Within seconds, Ariori's body was thrown over
the edge, landing ten feet away from me. I swam to him, summoning
every nerve I had in my body to make my left arm work again.

I screamed, pushing my body to the limits,
and wrapped my left arm around my brother. The bullet wound was
over his right eyebrow and it was open down to the white meat. He
wasn't moving, but I could feel his heart still beating.

I wanted to save Dominique, but I had few
options. The Frenchmen had guns. They shot me and Ariori. I
wouldn't be able to save us all.

I swam to the rowboat and threw Ariori in. I
took the oars and rowed away from the ship furiously. The Frenchmen
aimed their weapons at me but did not shoot any more.

I left Dominique. Her people had come for her
and had probably killed Ariori. My choice was clear. If Ariori
survived, he'd be furious with me. If he died, at least we could
give him a proper burial.

The ship raised anchor and began to sail
away. As I approached the white men still on the beach with my
brothers, I saw the horror creep over their faces.

"What happened?" Eşusanya asked.

"They ambushed us. Stole Dominique and shot
Ariori!"

Eşusanya and Ogundiya bared their fangs.

"No!" Dominique's brother screamed.

Eşusanya and Ogundiya buried their faces in
the necks of the abandoned Frenchmen while I pulled Ariori onto the
sand and tried to revive him. I tried to breathe air into his
lungs. I pounded his chest. I tried to give him blood from the
Frenchmen's corpses. I tried feeding him my own blood. Nothing
worked. He was dead.

Ogundiya stumbled, blood-drunk and anguished,
over to his body while I wept over it. He touched my shoulder and
sat next to me in silence. We said nothing for an hour as the sun
climbed higher in the sky.

"She never belonged with us," Eşusanya said
finally, while sitting in the sand a ways off from us, the blood
intoxication finally wearing off.

"What?" I asked. "Dominique was the love of
Ariori's life."

"A Razadi could never truly love a white
devil."

"Watch your mouth," I said. "And have some
respect for the dead."

"Fuck Dominique. We let Dominique into our
village, into our way of life, and it only led to death. Another
Razadi with a bullet in his brain, just like in Africa. These
people are evil and ruthless. I will never trust one. If I come
across more, I can assure you I will be the last thing they
see."

"Dominique wasn't like them," I said.

"Yes she was! They're all alike! They happily
bring death wherever they go. They steal land that doesn't belong
to them. They create technology only to conquer and destroy."

I couldn't argue with him. All I knew was
that Dominique really was different. She was one of us. And now she
was gone and the love of her life was dead.

Another hour passed.

"We need to go back," Ogundiya said.

"Help me carry him," I asked. My arm was
still sore, but healing.

"No," Ogundiya said. "You rest. I've got
him."

Ogundiya bent down and scooped up Ariori's
body in his arms. Immediately, his eyes opened wide in shock.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"He's warm," Ogundiya whispered. "And
breathing."

"What?" I exclaimed.

"Put him back down," Eşusanya ordered. We
knelt over the now-breathing Ariori in the sand.

"Ariori!" I said firmly. "Wake up. Open your
eyes."

Ariori's eyes fluttered and then clamped shut
again as though he was concentrating.

"Fight, dammit!" Eşusanya shouted.

I stared at Ariori's head wound. The flesh
around it began to contract and the blood evaporated. Before my
very eyes, Ariori's body expelled the bullet from his head and
healed itself, leaving only a slight dimple behind.

He inhaled sharply.

"You're alive!" I exclaimed.

"Where's Dominique?" he asked, his voice
raspy.

"How are you feeling?" Eşusanya asked.

"I'm fine. Where is my wife?"

We fell silent as Ariori scrambled to stand
up.

"Where is Dominique? Where is she?
Where
is my wife
?"

To this day, I have never seen anguish and
despair in the eyes of a man like I saw in Ariori's, on the day we
told him he'd never see the love of his life again.

"So…he really never saw her again?" Justin
asked.

"No, he didn't. The ship had been long gone
by the time he woke up. We had no good way to follow them."

"That's really, really sad," Justin said.

"Ariori was devastated. He didn't even speak
for weeks after that."

"What did she look like?" Justin asked.

"I told you, she was-"

"Show me."

Justin sat upright and closed his eyes. I
clasped his face and brought our foreheads together. Into his mind,
I projected the beautiful face of Dominique. Her face was an oval
framed by a cascade of curls as brown as freshly turned earth. Her
deep brown eyes smiled even when her mouth was curled into a tight
frown. Her thin eyebrows curved up in an arch. Her white skin was
tanned to a golden brown by the Caribbean sun.

She reached her long fingers through the fog
and touched my face.

"
Je t'aime
," she whispered before she
disappeared.

"Whoa," Justin said. "That was vivid."

"That was Dominique," I said.

"So tell me…how did she end up in America to
found Iota Theta Beta? How did she create this ceremony that makes
her sisters beholden to the Razadi?"