Jianna Jackson Reflections of He Who Has Done the Unimaginable

reflections of he who has done the unimaginable

Jianna Jackson

It has been five weeks since I left the skin of the bull and set sail atop the old vessel with her scrubbed down deck and formidable masts. Five weeks, my crew and I have withstood a tempestuous journey riddled with opposing forces in man and sea in hopes for riches. Five weeks, spent enduring the ire mire of oceans that thrash my boat about to the ends of the Earth and the monotony of seagulls cawing in competitive flight. Two weeks I have spent of the five weeks endured, dwelling in trepidation and fearing for my life and livelihood. Every baited breath I take, the suffocating stench of eagerly-awaiting death clouds my nostrils and fills my lungs. My crew, albeit not audibly, cries for my assassination.

’Twas the piercing of their eyes which spoke to me louder than the shrill of any mouth.

“Sir, you have led us astray,” they said to me. “You have taken us from the warmth of our women to die in the nothingness of your dreams,” they said. In these glances, in the bitter reminder of company I had asked for, I saw the limit of my time here.

Accusing faces tried to offer hopeful smiles, but all I saw was my impending end.

Guttural terror halted at the cry of an incredulous “land ho”; its ebullience rang true throughout the ship and had caused us to congregate on the deck to debunk what seemed like a farce. Yet small dots of green (one: the size of a man’s hand, the rest: reminiscent of drops of iron gall on vellum) emerged from the horizon like a gift from God, Himself.

Embittered trepidation was displaced by smug satisfaction and the fear was traded in for joy. It was no farce. We had, in fact, found land that would be ours, and, most likely, an insurmountable volume of riches and gold. For reaping of the lands to come. For discovering the true form of our terrene. Then after pride, came relief, for my life was no longer in jeopardy. Not less than a day’s journey after the joyous announcement, we sunk our anchors and relaxed our sails, and when the men had reacquainted themselves with the comfort of soil, we laughed unironically at the oxymoronic strength of the sands beneath our toes.

“Now that we are here, my lord,” the ship’s captain said in a strained voice with a poignant look in his eye, “what is to be done with the people?” Shock beguiled me from my state of euphoria. People? Had I not been the only native of the west beyond the east as of this very moment? Had I not made the first discovery of the ages? Apparently not. Soon, figures began to appear. Figures of copper that were not our own and were not to be mined in the ways we knew how. They would pose a serious threat to our conquests and my claim for glory.

Obdurate selfishness would cause them to hide the riches of the land from us.

“Castrate them.”

I said. And for good reason, as the dark and puzzling heathen were most unusual; with an unhealthy lack of propriety and a worshipful appetite for sex and stones… what use would they have to my King and Queen? All painted their faces; none knew of sophisticated languages. The women wore no chemises much less proper clothing and the men wore nothing at all. Upon my order, they perished at the caress of my men’s bloodlust.

Their blood whet the land they stole and their cries pierced the skies and their gods were not listening … only staring and staring still.

Duly, one particular battle struck out to me as I retell, I see it in my dreams. A heathen male, was sparring quite remarkably with me until a girl-heathen, darted out foolishly in the midst of battle and towards him. His fierce look of determination softened in her direction and his stance faltered in concern and I took that opportune time to plunge my sword into his unguarded side. The little girl stopped running towards him, stood stock still, peered up at me with eyes as watery as the seas, mouth ajar in disbelief and screamed until time stood still and she collapsed under the force of her grief.

“Efface and erase,” I reminded myself when grief found me too; my service is to my King, my Queen and my legacy.