I remember sitting at the windowsill in the Lisbon of my childhood, with my notebooks, and write outlandish stories at 10 years old. During my teenage years my writings piled up in towers of notebooks, they might still exist, if not ended without my knowledge - or consent - in some vanity's lesser elements.
In my years in Film School I wrote many screenplays and scripts. I had a 16 year hiatus until 2015 when I started writing BROTHERLY LIKE DOGS, 460 pages of alchemical short stories, in an interlaced narrative dreamed, bled and written with love and effort, for 6 long years. Sacrificing time of sleep and rest in nights and early mornings before soulless day jobs to help myself, because who would help me, was there no more.
Along with my book came anew several monographies of prose and poetry, all oriented towards the alchemical philosophy. These last two years I started writing my second book, THE GRENADES OF HAR MEGIDDO. Due to real life events of unspeakable inhumanity, I've been very impeached to have the good mind and soul and heart to write.
This is the first piece I wrote shortly after I suffered the first overt attempt to unlive me, by the perpetratoress:
THE CAPTAIN'S TREASURE
A film script study by Czerny
For Dr. Grandfield, who keeps saving my Life.
Scene 1.
Int/ext/night
A.
At the banquet salon of a cruise ship, dozens of party people dine and celebrate.
The food is incredibly luxurious, rivers of champagne.
The livery waiters serve the party people, with large trays and dishes, bringing abundant and highly ornated food. The party people are dressed in lavish suits and dresses, they receive the dishes and trays with great boisterousness, laughing and talking very loud.
At the table on one side, with two well dressed and good looking, amused young men, is a woman in her fifties, MADAME EDWIGE NILSSON, whose frown contrasts with the party ambience, her dish is empty and she's waiting to be served.
The vague dialogue of the young lads by her sides, is muffled by the loud talk and the party music, but we understand she has already refused a few dishes that were brought to her.
The waiter, another good looking young man, places in front of Madame Edwige a big Thermidor lobster. Madame looks at the lobster with despise, gives a scornful stare at the waiter, and demands a filet mignon, with no manners to her high position, like a dictator.
The waiter almost can't hide his perplexity facing the petulant Madame, and obeys while the lads by her sides laugh very loud.
The Madame gets up from the table, charmingly excuses herself to the lads, and leaves the banquet room.
B.
Madame Edwige walks through the corridor of the ship that leads to her cabin, the corridor is empty. She makes sure there's no one around and the other cabins are shut. Opens the door to her cabin, goes in, and soon goes out again in a moment, dragging through the floor, a human life sized bundle, a human being tied up and wrapped in a bedsheet, who moves a bit and emits low moans, likely gagged inside the bundle.
Madame Edwige drags the bundle behind her, worse than a potato bag, drags it over the stairs that take to the ship's deck. Arriving up there, looks around, and the deck is empty of people. Drags the bundle to the deck's edge, lifts it up with some difficulty, and hurls it into the cold waves of the sea.
Without even looking back at the waters, turns her back and returns to the banquet salon.
SCENE 2
Ext/night
A.
The beach is cold and deserted, only the wind shakes the reeds here and there.
A troop of 4 military men, in heavy duty black uniforms, helmets with lanterns and heavy precision machine guns at their backs, patrols the beach, walking from side to side.
They are under the glance of a man, in his 70's, also a military, the Captain.
The wind caresses his silver hair, the beam from the lighthouse, each time it spins, alights his face, we see his clear eyes, the hand holding a rosary, his lips slowly murmur a prayer, the US Special Forces insignia 'De Opresso Liber' – 'To free the oppressed' at the left of his jacket collar.
He looks towards the waves, that break upon the coast. He seems to be waiting.
B.
The sea waves are cold, icy.
A decomposed wood log floats at the surface, atop the waves, being thrown forwards, towards the coast. On the log are grasped two hands, the hands belong to two arms, and the arms belong to YRMENSULE WEHR, a girl of 13, the daughter of Madame Edwige, who she hurled into the cold sea.
The log rolls in the waves and Yrmensule's feet can reach the bottom sand now, lets the log go, with all her strenght gains balance and gets up in the sand, with water to her chest, and looks ahead, towards the beach, where the 4 weaponized soldiers walk from side to side and the Captain keeps watch in the shadows.
Yrmensule swims with cold and difficulty in the icy water, the waves push her towards the sand. She hasn't been seen yet by the troop. A last wave covers her body, she falls down on the sand, and gets up, coughing a lot, spitting salt water.
Her cough alerts the troop, the Captain looks ahead, doesn't move.
The soldiers turn to where the sound came, and all point their machine guns to Yrmensule.
Without awaiting the Captain's orders, they look to eachother, and each walks, slowly, weapons aimed forwards, towards where Yrmensule is in the sand, on her knees, the tears became invisible under so much salt water.
The four soldiers stop in a half circle facing the girl, weapons aimed at her, the helmet lanterns hurt her eyes and she raises her arms, without being told to, but to cover her face and avoid the light hurting her eyes. She's shaking with cold.
From the shadows, the Captain observes.
The four soldiers keep their weapons aimed at the girl.
The Captain gets up from the shadows and walks through the sand in great steps, stops in the middle of the soldiers, looks from above. Makes an arms gesture to the soldiers to step back.
CAPTAIN
She's just a child. Leave her with me.
The soldiers step back, weapons still aimed. The Captain looks back, and makes a gesture for them to put the weapons down, to which they obey.
Yrmensule removes her hands from her eyes, keeps her arms slightly up.
The Captain gets down, his boots sunken in the wet sand, his head at the level of knelt Yrmensule's.
They stare into eachother for a long quiet moment, behind her, the wild roar of the cold sea.
Her face shows despair, a broken heart, fear, terror.
During that long moment, the Captain only looks to her calml, with an attentive and understanding expression.
CAPTAIN
Are you all alone?
Yrmensule nods affirmatively with her head and sad eyes.
CAPTAIN
Where is your mother?
Yrmensule waves to the sides, 'no', with her head, looks to the sea at her back, covers her face with both hands, hides a face of agony.
The Captain looks to the soldiers, dismisses them.
Takes off his heavy uniform jacket, places it carefully atop the girl's shoulders, who wraps herself in the jacket still warm from his body, sighs in relief, looks to the Captain with gratitude in her face.
CAPTAIN
I'm your mother now.
The Captain raises Yrmensule up in his arms, and takes her in arms through the beach, till they become unseen, into the shadows.