The room, rarely used
now seemed to have a presence
a spice in the air, a tingle on the skin
Jacob sniffed a few times
perhaps he was -- imagining?
Uncle spoke, posed questions
some were simple
others were
not so simple
was Mother happy?
yes?
Did Willem help Father with the accounts or
only in the workshop?
yes? perhaps?
Did he like sugared almonds?
yes!
Uncle Emiel
rose and slid the bolt of a
wooden chest, roughly
joined and fashioned from planks
the blond wood, dented
stained and flecked by travel and the sea
resting on the floor
under the window
What's that?
Jacob extended a finger towards the
strange, spidery lines seen only partially
through his uncle's legs
What's what?
Emiel followed the line of Jacob's finger to
the inside of the lid of the sea chest
Ah, the Leviathan
It was hideous,
bulging, round eyes on
a malformed, bulbous head
like the knob of a horse-whip
and
arms, so many arms!
and
dotting the arms were
small circles, horrible little holes
or mouths
that contrasted with the solid circles of brown
that dotted its skin
the arms
snaking
all across the
inside
of the lid
arms that could reach out at any moment
and entangle
a small boy, effortlessly
Jacob moved closer
but not
too close
Is it real? Does such a thing live?
Uncle laughed
Of course! If it weren't real, how do you think I could draw it so accurately? I am not a painter nor a tiler. Those creatures attach themselves to ships, drag them down into a watery grave. When we find one, we must pull them and dry them.
Pull?
Pull them from the water so that they can do no damage to man or mouse, boy. The Leviathan is evil. He must be pulled, dried and stared in the eye. Only then is he rendered harmless.
Emiel's eyes twinkled like stars
seen at midday and
the lines around them deepened
as he smiled
and shared a paper sheath
of sugared almonds with
his nephew
Jacob nodded as he
chewed
how much Uncle Emiel knew!
how to sing
how to whistle and even
how to render
harmless
an evil monster
that would pull him down
into a cold,
watery grave
never to be seen again
YOU ARE READING
The Sleek Skin of the Leviathan
PoetryHolland, 1730. A young boy haunted by nightmares is captivated by the drawing of a Leviathan on his uncle's sea chest. But when the Leviathan begins to invade the boy's dreams, is he seeing reality, or only his own imagination? A verse novella (a sh...
