REGINALD (part II)

by Marlon Thierry Laurent Fink. Posted in Text

Before those precious times to come, in a place unknown to none bearing the name of a most famous hoodlum – Ronaville – warrior of the sea, strong like 10,000 tons, and through and through made out of steel.
A father to Ronald and Reginald, twins of the polished iron – cold, slippery and wet; who, caressed by the steams of rawest power and penetrated by most salty waters, on their skins like needles and pins, fought with greatest vigor at the side of their father.
On the crests of the sea, where whales whined and dolphins dodged, Reginald and Ronald where born with eyes the color of an abyss and hair like rough and old and golden strings, their clenched fists quick like thunderbolts and also equal in strength.
Greedy – both – for being heirs of their father’s might they plotted against him, together, to make him drown in the reigns of his so honorable life. Ronaville, dead, killed by the conjoining hands of his sons, most brutally struck in the back of the head, died as if the first chapter of more misery to come.
Ronald, more clever than his equally old brother, driven by the forces of evil – disguised – is quicker to fulfill his dream of reigning all on his own, accusing Reginald of being the murderer of their father. This move genially culminated in his brother’s imprisonment, him, settling in a dungeon like dark clouds before a thunderstorm, ravaging on the surface in a valley in the midst of their homelands.
What saved Reginald from scratching his soles to little stumps, while in delirious daydreams of gory carnage, plans of breakout, and bloody revenge, was a girl that ever so softly hummed, in close proximity to where, in a cold, slippery, and wet dungeon, he was kept from ending up hung on the gallows, encircled by young wantons.
What shortened Reginald’s days into bearable hours, prolonged his nights into what seemed to bear more power – journeys of the mind, absent of his body. Where epiphanies make good company, and clouds caress him as if in his mother’s grasp – in touch with crystalline, glistening, and glittering splashes of the sea – night in, night out an angel watches him, faithfully.
Heaving up and down and down and up in his sleep, his body seemed as if consisting of raindrops, his breath like their rattling on the ground, or even the sea, his body shaking like breaking tides. Swoooosh! Down and up and up and down – six times in ten seconds. The angel speaks in high-pitched tones, but he does not comprehend. Circles around him, is above him, and on the ground, surrounds him – so safe and sound.
You can end this misery yourself. Choose to live on life in the midst of your mother’s siblings. Nobody will ever recognize you as Ronald’s twin. However though, you will find this hard for yourself, bathing day in, day out in the puddles, lakes, and swamps. Down and up and down and up, diving deep into unknown lands, hearing treasures in a girl’s chants, finding peace in yet so childish hands.