The Dancer

From my table at the back of the tavern, I saw, and was mesmerized, by the woman dancing.

When I was able to tear my eyes from her lithe and quite nearly ethereal presence, I noted that every man in the place was just as spellbound; every eye had a twinkle, every lip a twitch and tendency to rise a little on one side. Just as, I’m certain, there were many a rise in their pantaloons.

The tavern was a typical West Indies affair with colorful candle glass tossing about their hues like stained glass windows in an old dim church. The air was infused with the smoke of a dozen tobaccos, from sweet cherry, and licorice, to the pungent skunky scents of Mississippi weed and mugwort- one second you breathed in an appetizing scent, the next, one that made you gag. The walls were painted black and adorned with a dozen mirrors of all shapes and sizes, each one in a golden gilted frame. The bar served up ale and mead and six varieties of rum. The men were inebriated enough to think bold thoughts, yet cowed by her beauty and her stealthily seductive moves- she wasn’t vulgar in the least, not like a whore- but played at innocence delightfully. She could have had any man In the place…well, perhaps not Blue-toed Bertha’s. She had her fat wicked claws in his neck, refusing him the woman’s delights.

I myself, may have had a boner if I was in possession of a cock. In the dim light of The Whale’s Sperm tavern, I appeared as a male- dark man’s britches, and long dark coat of many buttons, and knee-high boots with the tops folded down. In the taverns I carried no sword, but my flintlocks were loaded and near at hand. I carried a Scottish dirgh in the bodice beneath my man’s billowy sleeved shirt. I kept my hat on as I sipped my top shelf dark rum, it hid my feminine features and goldi-locks hair. Oh yeah, I kept a cutlass in each boot.

I kept my face towards my glass, and when I felt the woman turning my direction, I turned my head slightly, so she’d only ever catch a glimpse of my nose or cheek. I bunched afrilly ascot above my neck though the night was sweltering, it gave the appearance of a beard in this muted lighting.

This was the third night I’d been here. The woman danced as she did now on those occasions too. Perhaps it was her that kept me coming back. Her long dark tresses were gypsy-free and swung about her peach soft face, framing her ruby lips and large deer eyes. She wore peasant's clothes- simple and unadorned, the more to focus upon her- just her. She spun and spun to the flute, fiddle and drums. Being the West Indies, there was a negro aspect to the drums in the form of a tin one that set off a mad pace, truly intoxicating. She appeared to be immersed in this and wild at heart.

But I knew different. On the first night I saw her there at The Sperm, she’d singled out a man in rich clothing. He was attractive in a smarmy way- a pirate to be sure- and thought himself lucky to catch the eye of the beautiful dancer. After the music, the two had left together.

The next night, that smarmy young pirate was not present, I never saw him again. This second night, the woman, Merri-Lee, I’d discovered from the barkeep, chose a rotund chap in fine Englishman clothes in te latest style; he was droopy of jowls and fancy of wig, EW in other words. Now I was intrigued. Again, he did not return to The Sperm.

I was now fascinated. I think I wanted this woman but not for the same reasons as the idiot men. If she was the assassin I believed her to be, I had a job for her. So, this third night I watched. I saw who she made eye contact with. I also knew that this may be her last night in this place. Assassins can’t stay in one place and she must be a good one to be staying in this place going on three nights. I saw her dance. I saw her entice a third into her web. He was handsome but old, fifty at least, not richly attired, but darkly somber. They were eyeball fucking each other when I slid up to a bar wench waiting for drinks from the tender.

“Hey pretty lady,” I said with a hint of gold between two fingers.

The red-headed buxomly wench’s eye flicked to the gold then up into my shadowy face beneath my hat. She frowned, surely uncertain about me and my sex. As the gold caught the light, I detected a dark bruise under her makeup, just under her right eye and spreading to her cheekbone. I looked upon her white fleshy neck and saw bruise there as well, in the shape of thick strong fingers. I decided to play the chick card and lifted my hat so she could see I was a woman. The scarf fell from my chin, I smiled, and she let out a breath and smiled back.

“Hello,” she said timidly. Then she stood a little taller and said, “What can I do fer ya?”

“A name pretty one. Who is that man? That one with the dancer?”

She only gave a brief flicker towards the man, she knew who I was talking about. “Ah him, he be the chief magistrate here.” Her lips turned downwards. “Jes disgustin. I know his wife. Sweet lady. I bring her rum and breads an things. He’s such the big man, eh, he don’t bring them things himself. And lookit im now…”

I nodded understanding and pulled her towards me while looking her in the eye so she’d not panic. One arm embraced her while the other slid the doubloon into her bodice.

“Thank you,” I said and slipped back into the shadows and out the door.

I tended to my horse and retrieved my sword from the hay it had been hidden under. The Whale’s Sperm was up the road from this barn, so I waited. About an hour later, the music stopped, and the street grew loud with inebriated men going on about their ways to their beds…or someone else’s. The shrill laughter of the whores punctuated the bass men's voices and the shrill giggling of the opium smokers.

As luck would have it the magistrate ducked into the barn I was secreted in, I scuttled back into my horse’s stable and watched as the silver haired man stood by the door just where I’d been standing seconds before. It didn’t take long for Merri-Lee to show up. Her long hair was tied back but loose down her back. The white of her peasant blouse shone in the dimness of the stable, only lit by two lanterns outside the wide double doors.

I peeked around the stable wall and saw then embrace once inside. She pulled him into the dark where I could not see so I crept out…my horse whinnied softly and nervously I froze. It was a stable after all, so after 30 seconds, I relaxed and ventured out. I heard the sounds of pleasure. Sighs and moans and fabric being torn…and fabric being lifted with the quietest of sighs. I heard the gasp as he came…then nothing. I waited for ten minutes bit heard nothing ,more. At last, I crept forward, it was too dark. I grabbed one of the lanterns from outside and brought it in.

The man was white as a flounder’s belly. His skin even looked bloated white and fishy. Except for his neck. There was dark crimson there, from under his chin to his fleshy white man boobs. From his neck was a waterfall of blood, nearly black in this light, but glistening and fresh and coppery scented. For some dumb reason my mouth watered. I was like a stupid tree, just still, stuck in a place. But my mouth watered. I ate well, I drank well…there was NO reason for this sensation. I was angry… but still, that smell. I stepped closer to the body…

“Aye, yes! What fun eh?!”

I froze and ducked into the nearest stall, praying that this was not the stall that this man who was coming in was heading for.

“Ah Yes m’ lord, the town’s a bit out the way, but very fun, eh?” Said the stable boy as they passed directly in front of me. I wondered if they’d see the mutilated man in the stall over. I wondered if they’d see me when they raised their lantern in shock.

“Hey, whaaas this now?” said the man.

I froze, hand on my dagger…another creeping towards the pistol behind me.

“Ah m’lord,” said the stable boy, who was not a boy at all, but a tall and comely black man, “Tis a gift for yer stayin ere.” The dark handsome man placed a sword in the man’s hands.

“Well!” said the man. “I do truly love it here; I’ve had the best time an---”

“Yeah yeah…git on wi you now,” said the black man.

The man left on his horse, all strapped in so he wouldn’t fall off…and with my sword.

The black man began sweeping out the stall the man’s horse had been in, scooping up the poop balls and then laying flat the hay and adding more. He said, “You might as well come out. I ain’t leavin til ya do.”

He had to be talking to me. Incredusuclsy, I did look around and then bearly laughed when I leazized how silly I must look. I made myself even sillier looking by stamping my feet up and down like a child being attacked by the ants she’d disturbed from a big stinging nest.

“You kill dat man?”

I said, “I have the feeling you know it was not I.”

“Heh heh, mayhaps not this poor bastard, but perhaps there have been others.”

I remained silent but came towards the man as he continued spreading fresh hay. He said, “I could scream bloody murder this instant, summonin them sheriffs out there, nearby, seein the drunks offa the streets…”

“But why? You know it was not I…”

“I know who you are. Why you wish the services of that witch woman---”

“Witch woman?!”

He ignored my outburst. “I can only figure that your next prey knows your image and that you are intrigued by Merri-Lee. Heh heh, perhaps you have a ting for her…but I suspect you need her help. She is like a shadow. A deadly poisonous wind. You admire her.”

“I-I- arrrgh! Who the fuck are you to know me so well?” I decided to be candid. Foolish to pretend he was not wrong.

“Now now. No need to get yer knickers inna knot.” He pulled a tattered, yellowed sheet from his inside vest and offered it up.

I unfolded it once but did not open it fully. I knew what it was. I refolded the wanted poster and handed it back. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I want someone dead. I cannot afford you and will not look that witch in the eyes…”

“Why do you call her a witch?’

“You’ve seen her at work. Hell-O. Whatever else could she---”

“Perhaps simple womanly charms.”

He looked at me a few seconds then rolled back his head and bellowed laughter until tears streaked from his nearly black eyes.

“Advanced womanly charms then.”

He howled even louder, and I found myself staring to crack into giggles. Then belly laughing with him.

I said, “Do you know where Merri-Lee sleeps?”

“Yes. My family and I live in the woods mayhaps five hunnerd feet behind us.  Theys a few cabins there where us black free folk live. She’s farther in, towards the North Road, a covered cart wagon and ass.”

“Take me there. Write me down…you can write?”

“Yess’m.”

“Write the name and place of your soon to be diseased, I can’t promise anything…”

I followed the black man’s instructions and found a hidden away cart and ass tucked off the path to the North Road. So, the man’s intel had been correct, he must have been studying the death of his mother for quite some time. That is who he wanted me to kill.

I approached the witch’s…ack! The woman’s camp and her big black ass whinnied her alarm. Before I reached the stairs, the door flung open and there she stood. She was in pale cream silks- her blouse and underskirts, with a pale green knit wrap about her shoulders.

As I approached, I noted the green in her eyes. “Come in,” she said, “I’ve been expecting someone. And am pleased it is you.”

I couldn’t help but feel charmed by her words. She’d charmed so many. But still, now, in her presence, I felt…lucky. Perhaps she was a witch, tossing a spell into the very air around me. I showed her the gold I was willing to pay. I told her my subject’s name and whereabouts. I told her I’d take the credit though, while she slipped away. I’d break even on this mission, but it was worth every gold doubloon just to be in her presence ne now and…and…

“Here you are Sweetness, some tea.” Her voice was soft but filled the small space. Her long hair was like silk over her slender shoulders. Again I wondered how a creature so demure in stature could be such a killing machine. The tea was chamomile, my favorite, with just the right amount of honey and no cream. Them limey bastards ruined tea with cream.

The gold I offered was a fortune. Merri-Lee must be a very very wealthy woman by now. I understood she loved the killing then. I did not. I wished only to finish this last job and be done. Settle with a man and have babies. So, I was grateful she agreed and was fine with no notoriety. She did not have a wanted poster of her…yet…and planned to keep it that way.

She said, “I will dance one last time. If your prey you can get there, he will be mine.”

My prey was a pirate who’d killed my source’s entire family. He was here now and knew my face, been warned about me. Malcomb was a peacock. With pistols at his hips. I sat and watched my love…er…the woman, as she lured him into her web. That black man’s name was Derick and his face crept into my dreams way too often.

Merri-Lee danced one last time for that bag of gold. She wore dark scarves with brilliant crimson beneath. The band was extra randy this night, a travelling fiddler of amazing talent was in town, and my woman danced like never before. She lured Malcomb in, and I knew he was done for. I turned away and drank my rum. Now I needed to fulfill my promise. I’d been hired to kill her.

But I could not. She was my soul mate. We had plenty of gold. A cart and an ass and my faithful steed. We fled into the darkness of the North Woods. After four hours or so, we were safe and hidden once again in woods her nimble footed ass, Nesmith, had found. I’d begun to think maybe she was a witch. She seemed to control nature around her. The wind, the raccoons, the wolves…

We slept like spoons.

In the early morning before light, she said to me, “I have just one more job that I promised to my brother. It won’t take long. Come and watch, like you have.” She often teased this way, like she’d known I’d been watching. Sleeping with her was like sleeping with a viper under your bed. But…I lived day to day now and was happy. She’d do one last job and we’d be off to…perhaps the other side of the island, maybe travel to Canada. Every Canadian we had ever met was the nicest and cleanest of people. So, we had dreams together.

So, I came along and sat at the back table and watched my love dance again. I sipped my rum and held my weapons at the ready for anyone interrupting her dance. I snickered inside when I recalled the black man’s words…’witch’…she was no witch, just a beautiful woman. Merri-Lee danced and whirled to the music. Every eye in the place was upon her, my love. She smiled at my hidden face and winked, it made me grin.

She danced and I watched. In an hour we’d be off towards the coast to live freely and…as my love danced towards the bar, I noticed something I’d never noticed before. When her eyes met mine, I grinned and raised my glass…but as soon as she was dancing another direction, I looked into the dozens of mirrors again.

My love’s reflection was not in any of them.