NYU Black Renaissance Noire NYU Black Renaissance Noire Volume 16.2: Fall 2016 - Page 78

There was a nervous flutter in my chest and throat . I could hardly catch my breath . “ You ’ ve got to be kidding … right ? What ’ s the joke ?” I heard myself say a little too loudly , a note of panic in my voice . My ego was on red alert . I was not going to let myself be hoodwinked by this faux British chap . I sat gaping at him in amazement . But at that moment a little bird tapped me on the shoulder . This chap didn ’ t come looking for you . It ’ s you who came wooing him , remember ?
Woodrow Winston smiled , a hint of patient indulgence brushing his lips . “ So what kind of business brings you to Guyana , Mr . Kamau ? You mentioned that you are a journalist working with a certain Mr . Sidney King aka Ndugu Eusi Kwayana , our black man of Guyana ,” he said tongue-in-cheek . That he knew of Eusi and ascria did not surprise me , everyone did . But his glib translation of the respected leader ’ s name , drawn from the Swahili language of East and Central Africa , made me sit up and take notice . Who is this guy ? I took a deep breath and tried to relax my body . At the same moment , I decided to roll with his story , whatever it might turn out to be .
“ Is that it … your treatise on earth history … there in the tablet ?” I sidestepped his question not out of rudeness but because there was only room for one thought in my head .
“ Yes , those are my notes ,” he said evenly . It was obvious that he was still appraising my response to his remarkable claim . Was it possible that he was testing me ?
“ May I see it ?” I couldn ’ t stop myself .
“ Why yes … of course … you are a man of words . I would like very much to hear what you think ,” he said , his eyes flashing curiosity . He slid the tablet toward me .
My hands were as clumsy as bear claws as I flipped to the introduction written in a neat , elegant hand , and titled , “ Origins of the Earth Sphere .” I don ’ t know what I expected to find , but I couldn ’ t believe that this “ chap ” was really serious . Somewhere in the back of my mind I was still looking for the joke as I began to read :
The Earth is built on an egg-ly basis . In the beginning , the void of Nothingness was fertilized and formed by Love , then deposited in the divine ether to be hatched by Space in Time . Therefore , the Earth began as an egg in the body of the Universe . From the atom to the amoeba to the solar system , everything came forth out of an egg . The atom is the egg of divine design from which every conscious life form has originated . From a fish to a lion to a man , all are made manifest as an egg in the divine body of Mother Earth ….
The treatise went on to talk about the magnetic or gravitational pull that governed the relationship between the moon , the earth , and the ocean tides , equating gravity to a physical manifestation of what human beings experience as love . He also intimated that the ocean was the origin of music , manifested first through animal nature via the songs of humpback whales .
I was halfway through the third page when Woodrow Winston , apparently noting the distress signals on my face , laid a hand over the tablet . “ Perhaps that is enough for now ,” he said , as he withdrew and closed it . And thank God for that ( though I would never have uttered such a phrase at the time ) because my head was spinning out of orbit . My brain felt like a tight steel band , which I was straining to break through , encircled it — plunging me into overload . All of a sudden , I had a splitting migraine like I hadn ’ t experienced since studying differential calculus in college . A swarm of bright yellow spots flashed and faded to dull red in front of my eyes , as I teetered on the edge of my chair .
“ What ’ s happening to me … I feel so weak and dizzy ?” I said groggily , as I leaned back in my chair , trying to recoup .
“ You ’ ll be fine ,” Woodrow Winston assured me , as he turned to flag down a petite waitress who was bussing tables near us . He joked easily with her , flashing a smile that was all charm , as he requested a glass of water “ for my American friend .”
“ But … what happened ? I don ’ t understand … I was reading … then my head started feeling tight … now I feel like I just ran five miles ,” I gazed at WW askance . For a brief moment I was completely unguarded and vulnerable , as trusting as a child . I barely knew where I was . The waitress returned with a pretty smile and a glass of water , which she placed in front of me . I gulped it down like a man who ’ d just crawled out of the desert .