The Two Hearts of Kwasi Boachi: A Novel by Arthur Japin

Author:Arthur Japin [Japin, Arthur]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Historical, Literary, Literary Fiction
ISBN: 0375718893
Amazon: B000XUBDB2
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 2007-12-18T05:00:00+00:00

4

One evening, in September 1843, I was assaulted. I had been a student at the Royal Academy for several weeks. Kwame was not yet enrolled; he had to spend another year at school to catch up on his lessons. I still had my room at the boarding school, which I had rented for the duration of my studies.

Hardly had I left the building when two fellows pounced on me and put a potato sack over my head. There were about twenty-five of us, all trussed in the same way. We were herded together in the market square, where we were forced to sit on the cold ground. Passers-by stopped to scoff and spit at us while we were loaded on to farm wagons and driven away. We were packed closely together. The lad next to me felt sick and sank on to the evil-smelling planks. The lurching of the wagon did the rest. I could hear him retching. Although my hands were tied, I managed to pull the sack off his head and thus to give him some air. He thanked me and made to do the same for me, which earned him a smart blow from one of our captors. Our journey ended in a large barn, where our hands were untied and the sacks removed from our heads. We were forced to undress, and left naked, with no food or water and only an oil lamp for warmth.

For a while all of us remained quietly where we were. Then someone launched into song, and the rest of us joined in one by one. As my eyes became accustomed to the dark, I recognized some of my fellow students. Alphons Wenckebach was the first to throw me a pained smile, shrugging off the humiliation. Hendrik Linse tried to force one of the small shutters high up on the wall, but they were all securely bolted. Cornelius de Groot sat in a pig’s trough. Necessity being the mother of invention, he covered himself with a blanket of straw. A tall, thin lad was the first to take a few steps in the barn, holding his hands fearfully over his groin. He came to thank me for the kindness I had shown him on the way. He introduced himself as Jacobus Lebret, but hesitated before extending his hand to shake mine. We discussed strategies of escape, somewhat sheepishly. Within half an hour we were all huddled together in small groups, in an attempt to keep warm. Evidently the comradeship that would arise from our shared predicament was the object of our abduction. It was a rite of initiation.

The crouching white bodies massed together like a herd of animals. Most of us tried to catch some sleep. I did not succeed, as my lungs were playing up again from the cold. The huddled figures reminded me of Sophie’s rag dolls, with which we had enacted the Greek legends. They were Odysseus’ men, waiting for the return of the Cyclops. Their coarse stuffed limbs could be folded into any desired position.

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