Their days were long and miserable and nights just as horrid. After a few days the occupants of the ship grew more accustomed to the perpetual motion and the sea sickness lessened slightly. Any prisoner who resisted anything from the crew was beaten savagely, any prisoner who died was unceremoniously dumped overboard. LeMeux, after days of caring for Omibwe and bringing him into relative good health had formed a bond with the young man. The two had spent many hours talking in LeMeux’s cramped quarters, broadening one another’s perspectives and knowledge both to pass time and out of genuine interest. LeMeux’s elementary grasp on Omibwe’s native language deepened to the point he could communicate conversationally with him after the first week. Omibwe’s leg was healing well and LeMeux was beginning to fear that the ship’s captain would demand he be placed into the cells with the rest of the African prisoners.
Omibwe’s strength returned to him, day by day, aided in great part that Dr. Lemeux was giving him the majority of his own rationed food in addition to the sparse rations he was allowed by their captors. Lemeux fashioned him an improvised crutch with a board he managed to barter away from one of the ship’s carpenters and some ragged clothes he had been instructed to use as bandage. It took several attempts and with much assistance from the doctor, Omibwe could manage to move about the very small cabin. Omibwe and his French doctor grew ever closer through the experience. LeMeux promised the young man that he would take him up the passageway to see his family at the first opportunity and despite Omibwe’s general distrust of everything due to his recent trauma, he believed his doctor.
LeMeaux awoke on the first particularly rough night at sea with his new patient. They had been sailing for ten days and were getting into larger rolling waves. Omibwe was awake, visibly scared out of his wits, pouring sweat and weeping. He had been sick onto the floor and was sitting up, bracing himself on the wall and the edge of the slab he lay on. LeMeaux tried to calm him but Omibwe began to call out for his mother. Fearing the crew would hear and knowing they would react horribly, LeMeux tried a different approach.
“Have I told you about mermaids?” LeMeux asked, desperate to draw the young man’s attention to anything but the heaving ship and rolling seas.
“No.” Omibwe replied, “What is a mermaid?”
“Oh, you have never heard of mermaids. You are in luck man; I know all about them. I can tell you about them if you’d like.”
“Tell me.” Omibwe answered, still visibly tense but now interested, LeMeux could see.
“The mermaids are an ancient people. Mermaids and mermen, keepers of the sea. The Mermaids, from the waist up are the most beautiful women you could ever imagine. Their bottom halves are like sea creatures, a tail like a dolphin.” said Lemeux keeping eye contact with Omibwe. He could see he had piqued the young man’s interest. Of course, he thought to himself, all young men like hearing about beautiful women.
“Have you seen one?” Omibwe asked the doctor, unsure of what he was being told.
“I have my friend and I will tell you. They certainly are beautiful creatures. Kind and beautiful. They love sailing men, in fact, they often trail behind ships like this.” LeMeux continued, now with the young African’s full attention, “Mermaids have been known to rescue sailors that have fallen overboard in foul weather. They will pull them to shore and sing them sweet songs. Many sailors have stories of rescue from mermaids.”
“I know how to swim, my father and I dive in the sea from our village, but Anaya, she doesn’t know how yet.” Omibwe said, visibly becoming upset again mentioning his sister. Quickly, LeMeux sought to redirect his attention.
“Oh, she will be fine Omi,” LeMeux said, using the shorthand name he had taken to calling his patients, “This ship is big and sturdy and built for far fouler weather than this.” At this mention, Omibwe seemed to ease and the conversation slowed until LeMeux looked over when Omibwe had paused and saw his companion had fallen back to sleep.
LeMeux felt pangs of guilt for spinning this yarn to the naive young man. He felt many things about this situation. Powerless to stop what was happening and guilty for being a part of the society that was allowing and enabling it. He felt dread for Omibwe and his family, he dreaded their future and what it held. He was developing a kinship with the young African and felt a fondness for his family in the cell just up the passageway. Sorting through these thoughts and feelings, LeMeux tried to think of a way he could help. To interfere with the journey meant a swift and certain death at the hands of the crew, Mr. Sprague in particular would take joy in killing him. Escape for the Africans aboard was a futile endeavor, they were too far from shore for even the strongest swimmer to survive, plus the African coast was notorious for its population of sharks. Escape near their destination would be similarly impossible, they would all be in no shape to swim anywhere by that point of the voyage. These thoughts drifted LeMeux into a restless and
