The Eight Currents

By Joseph Barbaccia

Living in a lazy tropical seaside village, shy and sensitive, sixteen year old Jeddo is on the cusp of manhood. He was happy and content until childhood bullying forced him to retreat within himself. Now he stays at home, quietly painting canvas sails and sculpting figureheads for the local fishing boats. Though he finds this rewarding, Jeddo feels discouraged by the lack of work in the small village, and he yearns to create more and grander art. To make matters worse, his father is pressuring him to join the family fishing business. Jeddo’s frustrations and isolation have begun to alienate him from family and friends.
Jeddo’s need to avoid confrontation and his desire to develop his nascent artistic talent spark an impetuous journey to the “City of Dreams,” where, he was once told by an itinerant and mysterious stranger, he’d reach his destiny of becoming a famous and wealthy artist. For the next year his travels take him over and under a great ocean, where, one by one, he comes upon the Eight Currents (Happiness, Sadness, Praise, Ridicule, Benefit, Destruction, Gain, and Loss. These extraordinary characters, embodying forces we all encounter in our lives, either hinder or help Jeddo in his quest. Jeddo’s final realization is the most difficult for him to grasp and leads him to ask, “Is getting what I want only a matter of letting go of my desires?”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joseph Barbaccia
• Release date: Apr 23, 2011
• ISBN: 9780615479651

Joseph Barbaccia

I am a visual artist by profession, creating videos and 3D animation. My fine art has been featured in galleries on both US coasts and in between. This is my first book. I’m currently working on the second of a trilogy.

Book preview

The Eight Currents

By Joseph Barbaccia

Copyright 2011 Joseph Barbaccia

Smashwords Edition

Part 1

Happiness

Chapter 1

The sea was high with anticipation of a full moon. Above, the cloudless pale blue dome of sky seemed to quiver with potent energy. Between the black sand beach’s tall dunes and impenetrable green coastal rain forest sat a weathered grey house. Jeddo’s house. Constructed from old forest wood, with a sagging roof, its small windows looked out upon a sandy yard littered with tangled fishing equipment. Long neglected traps, nets, buoys, and floats lay half-buried under the afternoon sun. Behind the house, a modest vegetable garden dozed beneath a giant baobab tree.

Around front, driven deep into the earth, stood a wooden totem pole intricately carved with images of local animal spirits. From sea stars to sharks, mermaids to manta rays; all were spiraling upwards. A spread-winged raven at the apex of the pole stared westward. Its smoothly sanded form was stained black with charcoal, and its eyes were two large purple cowry shells. Next to the totem, supine on carpenter’s horses, lay another pole in the final stages of carving.

Nearby in the shade of a coconut palm, Jeddo was taking a short break from his carving. And, like many times before, his mind had wandered back to a difficult time if his life.

He remembered the pain and humiliation. He remembered the beatings.

One day stood out in his memory. He was 13 and at the horse corral on the edge of the village. He remembered being face down in the dirt; an older boy was sitting on him, gripping his hair and slapping him in the face. He cried uncontrollably. His mouth gritty with dirt.

As Jeddo stood lost in the past, he could again feel the hot tears on his soiled face.

Queer! Wuss! a red faced older boy had yelled.

Standing in front of Jeddo, another boy threatened a small group of Jeddo’s friends. Too scared to stop the bullies, they looked on in horror until Jona, Jeddo’s best friend, ran from the corral to the nearest house to get help.

Through his tears Jeddo saw Jona run off. He thought Jona was deserting him. Not my best friend. he anguished.

Seeing Jona go for help, the two older boys gave Jeddo one last slap and, cursing and threatening the entire group with worse punishment if they told, ran into the forest.

Jeddo wasn’t hurt badly. He recalled feeling mostly scared and ashamed that his friends had seen him cower and blubber like a baby. He had lost face. And worst of all, Adella had been there to see it.

Adella was a tall, thin, almost boyish girl, with long hair that glowed copper red in the summer sun. She and Jeddo had spent most of that season together. Boating, fishing, swimming, kite flying. Up until that day they had been inseparable.

Jeddo recalled it was an hour earlier that Adella and he had joined up with a few friends at the corral. A couple of horses lazily ambled over to the group looking for a handout. Surrounded by shade trees, the corral provided relief from the hot sun. The easy contentment of summer hung from every branch.

But that contentment was shattered by the older boys, Bustor and Tomas. They arrived just as Jeddo and his friends were talking about a party to be held later that evening. Jeddo felt fear just at the sight of those two boys. They were always trouble; regularly looking for chances to corner him. When they caught him, they would throw him to the ground, sit on his back, slap and punch him, and call him names like ‘sissy’ or ‘mamma’s boy.’ Some days Jeddo had been scared to leave his home, preferring to stay inside, where he was safe. It was during these times of forced isolation that he began to draw and paint, exercising his imagination and filling his inner life with color and line.

But on this day he watched the two older boys spot his group and whisper conspiratorially before strutting over. Immediately they began making lewd remarks and gestures at Adella.

Jeddo knew that if he interfered with Bustor and Tomas he would get pounded. But what could he do? He couldn’t just stand there and let them say these things. Terrified, he asked them in a feeble voice to Please stop it.

That’s all they needed to hear. Bustor pounced on him.

After the incident his reception back at home was not what Jeddo needed. His brother and mother reacted in ways both predicable and unhelpful. His mother smothered him with too much care and affection. His brother mocked him for not standing up to the two bullies.

But it was his father’s reaction that most surprised and disappointed him. At first his father was concerned about Jeddo’s wellbeing. But when he knew Jeddo was unhurt, his father distanced himself. Jeddo was heartbroken. He needed some help in understanding just what he was feeling, but his father said nothing more than You’ll be OK, son.

I wish grandfather were still alive, Jeddo thought. He always knew what to say when I was feeling bad. I miss him so much. At least I have the knife he gave me. In a way, I feel better just having it with me.

All this happened more than three years ago. But the pain and humiliation persisted like a stain he couldn’t remove.

After that summer, Jeddo rarely saw Adella. She and his other friends drifted away from him. Worse, he could not forgive or forget his own failures. They all know that I’m afraid of my own shadow. I am such a wuss. I hate myself.

In turn, this low self-image made him believe his friends saw him in the same light. So he began staying at home and drawing for hours in the room he shared with his older brother. To protect himself from a world he was too sensitive to deal with, he created images and worlds he could control. Being indoors calmed him and he found enjoyment working with his hands and imagination.

In time, by making gifts of his work, Jeddo’s images helped him rejoin his friends. But it was never exactly the same. He felt a degree of separation. Though he was once again one of the group, he was also an outsider. He was accepted more for what he used to be rather than who he was now.

A raven’s cawing stirred him out of his reverie. He returned to his carving and concentrated on aligning the chisel at just the precise place. Lean and dark skinned, with thick black hair hanging freely to his shoulders, he looked younger than his sixteen years