Tabula Rasa

The mayor creaked back in his chair, and surveyed his old friend. The years had not been kind to him. He looked shorter than he used to be, but his dark hair was still as unruly and he was wearing a threadbare woollen suit - completely unsuitable for the summer heat. The mayor took a sip of his brandy and held it on his tongue, savouring the slow burn from the alcohol. The sound of nocturnal insects droned through the the open window, floating in on the sodden, warm air and he suspected he might be drunk. It had been at least 10 minutes since the mayor’s secretary had guided the man into the room and neither of them had spoken yet. It was highly unusual that the mayor accepted visitors this late, but the man had been insistent and had said he knew the mayor personally. The room was stifling. A single ceiling fan swept the syrupy air around lazily. Storm clouds had been building over the town for days and at this point the humidity was almost unbearable. The whole town felt like it was being stretched taught, waiting for the release of those first raindrops. Thunder rumbled in the distance. ‘You have returned. I must presume for good reason. What is it you wish to tell me?’ The mayor asked the man. ’Taking the mayoral seal was a stupid and reckless act. I have been paying my penance many times over in my banishment. I acted out of desperation and fear, but I know my actions were unjust.’ The man poured forth the words he had been rehearsing. ‘I have spent many years trying to recover the seal for you, and I finally think I have found it. The men I sold it to have returned to our shores, and their leader, Alfonso García, now wears it around his neck as a trophy. He claims that with it, he is now the mayor of our town.’ The man corrected himself quickly, ‘Your town’. The mayor was leaning forward now, intently listening to the mans words. The man took a deep breath and averted his eyes from his gaze. ‘I know I should not have, but I have been working in one of the small fishing villages up the coast.’ He flicked his eyes at the mayor to see how we would react to the news he had not honoured his banishment, but the mayor’s face showed nothing. ‘I could not leave and never have the chance of one day paying my debt. That time is now. I know where Alfonso’s men are camped, I can lead you to them and we can recover the seal.’ The mayor leant back and considered what his old friend had told him. Getting back his seal would mean life could go on normally in the town, and he could avoid the humiliation of having to reach out to the capital to get a new one. They would surely replace him for that. The man pleaded, looking desperate. ‘Please, let me repay my debt, then I promise I will leave on the next ship heading east.’ Between the humidity and the brandy, the Mayor’s head was foggy. He nodded. The man looked relieved. ‘Alfonso’s men are planning to head north any day now so we must act quickly, I will show you the map and the plan tonight and you can assemble your men in the morning. It is all laid out where I am staying in the docklands, we can go there now.’ The mayor nodded again, the air would be cooler by the water and the walk would give the brandy some time to wear off. At least then he could think straight. If he could get the seal back the governors in the capital would never have to know. They set off and the Mayor asked his secretary to tell his wife that he would be late back. Out on the streets the air was still stifling, but as they moved down towards the dock they could feel a breeze picking up from the ocean. The rains were finally coming. Blooming storm clouds obscured the fledgling moon and the streets were dark. The man pulled ahead, anxiously looking back and silently urging the mayor to move faster with his eyes. The mayor ignored him and kept his leisurely pace, reflecting on their past. They had grown up together until their teenage years, the children of banana pickers, but through the machinations of some obscure uncle, the mayor had managed to go to school and then university, where he got involved in politics. When he came to office he hired his old friend as a general aide, and the men worked closely together for years until his friend, badly indebted to the wrong people, stole the seal. The mayor, with a heavy heart, was forced to banish him. He decided he would formally forgive the man when they recovered the seal. The man was staying in cheap lodgings, but as the trade season had not begun he had the place to himself. They entered at street level and took the stairs to the mans room on the first floor. The man fumbled with his keys, but eventually opened the door. He held it open for the mayor before shutting it behind them and getting a lantern to light the pitch dark room. As the struck match caught the wick, the betrayal was illuminated. A man lunged forward and swung a crowbar at the mayors head. It connected with a sickening crunch and the mayors legs went out from under him, darkness flooding his vision. The fog on unconsciousness began seeping into him, but he could hear his old friend ask urgently, anxiously. ‘My daughter, where is my daughter? Alfonso said he would return her, where is she?’ The tearing sound of lightning drowned out the man and rain began falling across the city.