They set the body down a few hundred feet from where waves lapped at the shore. Sand flew in all directions as the men dug the grave. Andrew sat next to Clancy's body, making sure never to look right at it. After Midgley pried a particularly large rock out of the way with the butt of his rifle, the grave, shallow and ragged around the edges as it was, was complete.
"Okay. Better put him to sleep now, fellas. Get him in there" said Midgley, awkward and unsure. Several pairs of hands reached down and closed around Clancy's arms and legs.
"Wait!" Andrew shouted. This wasn't right, this rushed, heartless burial.
"Andrew, the others are waiting." Midgley gestured towards the shore, where the rest of the crewmembers had gathered the slaves in the remaining boats and were motioning at the grave-diggers to hurry along.
"One more second, please, just hold on," Andrew pleaded, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief. The men exchanged glances but didn't argue.
He stumbled towards the tree line, where cheerful amethyst blossoms burst through the sand. The flowers were pretty; Andrew was sure that Clancy would have proclaimed them "positively darling". He plucked a handful and returned to the knot of men gathered around the corpse.
Kneeling beside his lifeless friend, Andrew took the biggest, brightest blossom and pushed its stem through one of the squishy, blood-soaked buttonholes on Clancy's jacket. He placed the rest of the flowers on Clancy's breast, trying his best to cover up the horrid, gaping wound in the sailor's chest.
Pushing back hair sticky with blood and sweat, Andrew placed his own hot, teary cheek against Clancy's cooling forehead and threw an arm over the dead man's chest, embracing the corpse in a one-armed bear hug. A hand touched Andrew on the back, and after closing Clancy's eyes with the tips of trembling fingers, Andrew withdrew from the body.
"Okay. Better put him to sleep now, fellas. Get him in there" said Midgley, awkward and unsure. Several pairs of hands reached down and closed around Clancy's arms and legs.
"Wait!" Andrew shouted. This wasn't right, this rushed, heartless burial.
"Andrew, the others are waiting." Midgley gestured towards the shore, where the rest of the crewmembers had gathered the slaves in the remaining boats and were motioning at the grave-diggers to hurry along.
"One more second, please, just hold on," Andrew pleaded, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief. The men exchanged glances but didn't argue.
He stumbled towards the tree line, where cheerful amethyst blossoms burst through the sand. The flowers were pretty; Andrew was sure that Clancy would have proclaimed them "positively darling". He plucked a handful and returned to the knot of men gathered around the corpse.
Kneeling beside his lifeless friend, Andrew took the biggest, brightest blossom and pushed its stem through one of the squishy, blood-soaked buttonholes on Clancy's jacket. He placed the rest of the flowers on Clancy's breast, trying his best to cover up the horrid, gaping wound in the sailor's chest.
Pushing back hair sticky with blood and sweat, Andrew placed his own hot, teary cheek against Clancy's cooling forehead and threw an arm over the dead man's chest, embracing the corpse in a one-armed bear hug. A hand touched Andrew on the back, and after closing Clancy's eyes with the tips of trembling fingers, Andrew withdrew from the body.