3

635 Words
3 –––––––– THIS WAS OUR THIRD form of transportation to reach our destination. First a car next, an airplane, that we caught out of BWI Airport. 653.45 miles separated Chaka, Uhuru, and I. I waited in the designated wait area with other bodies. While Puma and Fehed stood at the ticket counter, making the arrangements. Puma and Fehed rejoined me. “We wouldn’t have minded if you helped yourself to a seat,” Fehed said. There are plenty of seats available and here I stood. Puma and Fehed took back possession of their belongings; they entrusted me to keep an eye on. Deep hums, draw my attention towards the water. A boat approached. A black vessel, red, black, and green colors encircled the tippy-top of the chimney. Wrote on it, the words Black Star Liner. Running broadside the ferry, three horizontal stripes, red, black, and green. Dressed in a blue coat with blue khakis and shiny black shoes. A shoulder cord of red, black, and green. The guard stood in a military stance, while another assisted the exiting passengers. We stood over to the side as passengers exited the ferry. The stiff guard mouth moved. “Good afternoon authorization’s required to board The Black Star Liner. Please have your papers ready to inspect along with proper identification. Proving you and the person the permit’s issued to is the same. Small bags you can take aboard, check in larger bags. If you need any further help, Officer Lalibela will help you. Your Captain’s name is Zin-Kibaru. I am your Co-Caption Olokun. This is the Black Star Liner, embarking on the journey to your greatness.” Fehed held the papers. The inspection started, Puma, and I boarded the ferry while Captain Olokun inspected. At the front of the ship was the wheelhouse, which made sense. The controls to navigate the ferry were in that room. A couple steps forward was the passenger lounge. The passenger lounge was a small space with the seating capacity of sixteen persons. I guess his papers were legitimate. Fehed joined us. “You have been on an adventure today. Cars, planes, and boats.” I wondered what was next bicycle, camel, or train. “What do you think of the ferry?” I guess it was okay; I can’t piece together answers at the spur of the moment. “It’s.” I was unsure of what adjective to use to best describe the ferry. I tried another go at it. “The ferry.” Fehed hijacked my sentence. “This is a tugboat, restored to resemble a miniature steamship, The Black Star Line.” “That’s the name of this ferry.” “You listened while Captain Olokun spoke. The Black Star Line was a shipping enterprise charted by the UNIA, The United n***o Improvement Association. The purpose was to charter black folks to Africa, South America, and The West Indies.” “Speaking on knots and miles, the duration between here and home is about 40 minutes,” said Puma. Fehed replied. “We’ll be home soon.” Forty minutes is too long. You can tell the difference from being on solid ground and being afloat on liquid. “I used to be seasick. It was terrible. I would be out on the deck, vomiting my guts out.” “Honey, that’s too much information.” Puma was right; it was a disgusting visual. This image popped in my head of Fehed upchucking overboard, as the ferry was in motion. “I’ve become receptive to the breathtaking marvels that make-up this seascape, wild ponies run along the seashore, gnarled live oak, sprawling marshes, gigantic cypresses, pristine sands, schools of dolphins, bobcats, sea oats, and spartina patens.” I got a tidbit excited about seeing wild ponies. As far as the other things, a bobcat didn’t insight excitement within me. Back home, domesticated cats kicked out by their owners and have become feral cats. Disheveled fur, rabid, wild. What sea oats or spartina? “Have you seen anything that captivates you?” Puma asked. “Yes, patches of grass that are here and there in the water.” “That would be salt marshes and spartina. There are plenty of small wonders out here that will rock your world,” Fehed said.
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