Bahama Drama December 29, 2024

To Ile de la Tortue

My name is Pierre Louis Desrosiers Bahama Drama I’m a bus driver here in Nassau a father of three and a husband to a woman who’s stood by me through shadows she can’t even see By day I’m like any other man reliable quiet with a sharp sense of direction and a warm smile for my passengers But when the sun dips below the horizon when the city’s lights flicker and fade into night’s embrace I become something else

I was born on Ile de la Tortue correctly spelled though locals call it Lototi in our Creole tongue a small island off Haiti’s northern coast It’s a place draped in mystery where the winds whisper secrets and the waves carry stories older than memory

The Night of Transformation

I was twelve when it happened My father a fisherman was lost at sea My mother stricken with grief turned to an old man Tonton Cleophat a healer and a keeper of old ways He wasn’t a man you approached lightly His hut was filled with bones dried herbs and symbols carved into wood

“You’re your father’s son Pierre-Louis” he said his voice deep and heavy like a drumbeat “But the sea has marked you differently”

That night he led me deep into the mangroves under a moon so full it looked like a lantern in the heavens There in the stillness of salt and shadow he began to chant I remember the air growing heavy the smell of earth and decay thickening and the way his words wrapped around me like vines

Then came the pain like fire spreading across my back and chest My skin felt tight fragile like it didn’t belong to me anymore When it was over I stood there trembling a strange energy coursing through me

“You’ll shed your skin boy” he said his eyes glowing faintly in the dark “But only at night And you’ll fly not like a bird but like something older something forgotten”

I didn’t believe him at first But when the first night came when I felt my skin itch and burn under the weight of the moon I understood

A Life Split Between Two Worlds

At night I slip away from my family My wife a gentle woman named Elianne suspects something but doesn’t ask She says she feels my warmth fade when the sun sets but she never presses for answers

The transformation starts with an itch then a pull and then a release My skin peels away effortlessly like shedding an old coat Beneath it something slick and smooth emerges something designed for the night sky My arms stretch thin membranes spreading between my fingers My eyes sharpen glowing faintly with a yellow hue

I don’t fly like a bird I glide The wind carries me and I become part of the night silent and unseen The city below the lights the streets the noise becomes a distant hum

But I’m not free There’s always a pull a whisper calling me back to the shadows of Ile de la Tortue

The Weight of Secrets

In Nassau I live as normally as I can I wake up before dawn slip back into my human skin and greet my wife with a kiss and my children with a smile I drive my bus along familiar routes exchanging laughter and casual conversation with passengers

But every day I feel the weight of the night on my shoulders It’s not a curse but it’s not a blessing either It’s a burden

Sometimes I fly over the ocean at night and see the faint glow of lights on the distant horizon where Ile de la Tortue lies waiting I wonder if Tonton Cleophat still lives if the mangroves still remember my name

My Family Doesn’t Know

Elianne thinks I’m just a restless sleeper a man with odd habits My children see me as their loving father dependable and strong They don’t know about the hunger I feel when the moon is high the pull in my chest that demands I take to the skies

But sometimes in the dead of night Elianne wakes up and finds my side of the bed cold and empty She’ll sit by the window staring out at the vast night sky wondering where I am I think she knows deep down but love keeps her silent

The Call of the Island

I know one day I’ll have to return to Ile de la Tortue Whatever Tonton Cleophat did to me wasn’t just magic It was a bond a promise sealed under moonlight and shadow

Until then I’ll keep driving my bus through Nassau’s streets carrying passengers exchanging stories and pretending that the night doesn’t own me

But if you ever see a shadow glide across the moonlit sky above Nassau if you hear the faint flutter of wings where no bird should be you might just be seeing me Pierre-Louis Desrosiers the man who sheds his skin and flies into the night

And if you ever ask me about it I’ll smile shake my head and say “Some things are better left unsaid mon ami”

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To Ile de la Tortue

My name is Pierre Louis Desrosiers Bahama Drama I’m a bus driver here in Nassau a father of three and a husband to a woman who’s stood by me through shadows

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To Ile de la Tortue

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