Dru chewed on her bottom lip, silent.
What is it? Corinne asked.
Dru shook her head.
Just say it, Corinne said.
We can never see the things you see, Dru said.
Corinne felt anger prickle on her skin. You wouldn’t have wanted to see this, she said.
Dru lowered her head and said nothing else.
Corinne wanted to get out of the ship and away from the memory the mermaids had shared with her, and the confused, angry feeling that Dru had stirred up in her stomach like a sour dish. But Sisi and Addie gripped her hands and as much as she struggled, she could not pull them away. Eventually, the mermaids opened their eyes and looked around as if they had just woken from a nightmare.
We were here, Noyi said. You were right next to me, Ababuo! she said to Ellie.
I remember, Ellie said, shuddering.
Sisi continued around the cargo hold, dragging Corinne with her and shuddering each time she touched another surface, as though every brush of her fingers awakened another terrible memory. There were so many others, she said. She pulled Corinne closer and left the ship through the small square door, cringing away from the edges.
The others followed. This time, they didn’t look for the current. They seemed to know exactly where they needed to go. The seafloor rose. When the surface was close enough that they could all see the rays of sunlight piercing through the tops of the waves, the mermaids’ faces became joyful and they darted off so quickly that they dropped Corinne and her friends, leaving them to struggle to the surface on their own.
Bouki and Malik swam up, leaving masses of bubbles in their wake. Corinne was close behind, but Dru began to fall back. When Corinne turned to look at her, Dru’s face looked like those of the people in the mermaids’ memory, the ones who never made it to the surface. Corinne stopped kicking long enough for Dru to float up to her, then she put an arm around her friend’s waist and tried to tow her. The effort slowed her down. Corinne’s lungs felt like they would burst open.
They were almost there. Corinne felt sunlight on her skin. But pain stabbed at her chest and echoed throughout her body. Hoping she was close enough, she stopped kicking and let her body float upward. Her vision dimmed at the edges, going black. Was this what happened to Laurent and Marlene and Gabrielle?
19
Home
With her eyesight dimming, Corinne was barely able to make out the pair of shadows that charged at her and Dru from above. She felt sure she would soon be in the belly of some fish. But the shadows swam under them and pushed Corinne and Dru to the surface. They gulped air. Bouki and Malik broke the water after them, panting.
“They are heavier than they look, right, brother?” Bouki said.
Malik nodded.
“We thought you were done for,” Bouki added.
“I thought you were a shark,” Corinne said once she caught her breath.
“Where are we?” Dru asked.
Corinne looked toward the unfamiliar shore, still a long swim away. She had never seen land stretch out so far. Malik started swimming for the beach. The others followed. It seemed like an hour before they arrived on the golden sand dotted with coconut trees, scrub, and grass. To their left stood a building like a huge sand castle. It was thick, and solid, and loomed over the sea like a sentinel.
“It’s a fort,” Bouki said. “I’ve seen one of those before.”
“Where?” Corinne asked.
“On the other side of the island.”
“Is that where we are?” Dru asked hopefully.
Malik shook his head.
“This is different. And bigger. Much bigger.”
“It’s morning,” Corinne said. “It wouldn’t have taken all night to get to the other side of the island.”
“And that’s not where the sun would come up,” Bouki added.
“We have to find the mermaids,” Corinne said.
Malik pointed at a thin rivulet that emptied into the sea, shallow enough to show the trail of mermaid tails going up and over the sandbar. On the other side, the bottom dropped again into a calm, clear pool. Past an outgrowth of bushes that grew out of the water, they heard voices tinkling like rain on a tin roof. The mermaids were on the other side.
Corinne thrashed through the bushes and grabbed Sisi by the arm. “You left us to drown.”
“You don’t look drowned,” Noyi said.
“Please don’t talk about drowning,” Ellie said. She looked as if she might cry. Addie put her arms around Ellie’s shoulders and patted her head.
Sisi looked confused for a moment. “You are still here?” she asked. “But this is not your home.”
“No, Sisi, it isn’t,” Corinne said. “You were supposed to bring us here safely.”
“Where are we?” Dru asked.
“Ghana,” Sisi said. “And my name is Boahinmaa.”
“I don’t care where we are or what you’re called,” Bouki said. “We are only here to get Mama D’Leau’s jewel. Then you have to take us back.”
“Back where?” Sisi asked.
Malik pointed across the waves.
“Back home,” Corinne said.
“But this is our home and our people are here,” Ellie said.
“Don’t bother, Ababuo,” said Noyi. “They don’t care about our families.”
Corinne moved into the circle of mermaids, who had turned back to their chatter. “Mama D’Leau sent us here,” she said. “And since this is your home, you should be able to tell us how to get the jewel, right?”
“Jewel?” Sisi said.
“Yes. A big stone like this.” Bouki held up a fist.
“There are plenty of stones around here,” Noyi said impatiently. “Take any one of them and go.” Her lips curled and her eyes narrowed. “Who thinks about stones when we just got back home? Selfish.”
“It’s not just any stone,” Dru said. “Why don’t you remember what Mama D’Leau said?”
“Who?” Sisi asked.
Bouki sucked his teeth long and hard, chuuuppps.
Malik walked onto shore and climbed a sharp embankment. Corinne and Dru followed. They were near a dirt road very much like the one that led from the fishing village to the market on their island. Only this road was reddish, not the deep brown they were used to. Vendors were set up along the sides, selling things from stalls. There was jewelry made with beads and hammered metal, carvings of masks and animals with long horns that Corinne had never seen before. A silver radio blasted out music with a quick, catchy rhythm. Corinne recognized only some of the words.
The collection of sellers reminded her of the market at home, with more men and the people in different clothing. Women on their island wore bright colored skirts that gathered at the waist. Here the skirts were covered in colorful tessellating patterns that made Corinne feel dizzy. Some wore white blouses like the women on the island, but others had blouses in the same patterns as their skirts. And still others wore great breezy dresses that hung straight from their shoulders to their ankles with large sleeves that caught the wind. Most of the women wore head ties, like the women at home, only these were elaborately folded into large bows and accordion-shaped fans, like fabric crowns. The women without head ties had beautifully braided hair, just like the mermaids. The braids spiraled out, or were ruler-straight, or defied gravity, moving from the nape of their necks to the top of their heads where they spilled down again like fountains. The men wore clothes just as bright. Their short tunics—some in patterned cloth, others in solid colors with embroidery stitched at the hem and sleeves—hung over dark pants.
Behind the people stood painted buildings that were probably once as vibrant as their clothing but were now weather-beaten from the seawater and sand, showing bare wood in places. On one plastered wall a sun-bleached image of a woman with loose, thick hair t
hat fell past her shoulders smiled out at passersby despite the two large snakes wound around her neck. Beneath the painting was written Mami Wata.
Noise rumbled underneath the vendors’ music, the sounds of people talking, buying, selling, and greeting each other in a language Corinne didn’t understand. One lady walked close to their hiding spot, a woven basket on her head and a baby sucking its fist wrapped in bright cloth against her hip. They ducked so the woman wouldn’t see them and peeked over the top again after she passed. Spotting them, the baby waved its soggy fist and smiled a toothless greeting.
A mouthwatering medley of the scents of fried food filled the morning air. Women sat behind huge silver pots atop shiny metal stands filled with burning coal. One of them was rolling dough between her palms and dropping it into hot oil. Corinne recognized the salty, inviting scent of one of her favorite foods, accra, saltfish rolled in dough and fried in oil.
“I’m starving,” Bouki said.
Corinne’s stomach growled, but she waved him away.
“If I—we—don’t eat something soon, we won’t survive long enough to find this jewel,” he complained.
“I’m sure they don’t deal with people who have no money,” Corinne said.
Bouki snorted. “When has that ever been a problem?” He looked at Malik and they stretched their fingers and smiled as if they could already taste the food.
“Don’t,” Dru said. “You can’t steal. It’s not right.”
“It’s not right to starve,” Bouki said. “They will be happy to know they are helping hungry children.”
“So we should ask them,” Dru said.
“Ask?” Bouki looked shocked. “It’s so much easier when they give without knowing. It has one hundred percent success and zero waiting and hoping.” The boys looked through the reeds at the top of the bank.
“Dru is right. We should ask,” Corinne said.
“It will limit your success and likely your portion,” Bouki said glumly. “And who knows how long we will be here.”
In the water beneath them, the mermaids huddled together talking in a combination of tongues. It sounded like the language of people on the other side of the mound mixed with English and the watery language the mermaids had used in the ocean.
“What do we do now?” Dru asked them.
Noyi rolled her eyes. “You could ask for help. What a bunch of lazy fish! We brought them here and they can’t walk a few steps to find what they are looking for!”
Ellie put her hands to her face. “I remember walking when we lived here. I remember the mud through my toes and rough bark against my skin when I climbed trees,” she said. “I didn’t live in the water.”
“How did we come to be like this?” Addie asked. “We were just like them with their two tails.” It was Ellie’s turn to wipe her friend’s tears and pat her on the back.
“Whatever happened to you, it’s not our fault,” Bouki said.
“Whose then?” Dru whispered.
Something prickled in Corinne’s mind. Mama D’Leau had warned her to bring the mermaids back, as if she knew that they might not want to return. And Mama D’Leau knew that they were going home. She had told them so. How had she known? Bouki was right. This jumbie didn’t seem like the kind to have saved the girls, but how else could they be in her care if she had not helped them? So many others had been left behind.
Corinne’s mind was a tangled mess, each new thought a knot that she couldn’t pick loose. How to find the jewel, how to get back home, who the mermaids really were. Most troubling of all was the mystery of where Laurent, Marlene, and Gabrielle had disappeared to, and what Mama D’Leau had to do with it all.
20
Girl and Goddess
They needed to eat. That was something Corinne could take care of. She squeezed the water from her hair and tried to get it out of her face so she could see better. Most of her plaits had come undone, and her thick hair hung around her shoulders. How the mermaids maintained their perfect coils and cornrows living under the sea, she did not know.
Malik pointed out a small boy who was sitting with the woman making accra. Corinne stared at him until he looked around nervously and spotted Corinne’s face peeking through the grass. She waved him over, and he skipped with a wide smile across his face and dark, curious eyes.
“Unh?”
“Hello? What’s your name?” Corinne asked.
“You speak English,” the boy said. “No Twi?”
Corinne shook her head.
“You must be from far,” the boy said. “I heard some schools only let the students speak English, English, English until they forget their own language. Don’t feel bad. I learn English in school, too.”
Corinne stuck her hand out. “I’m Corinne.”
“My name is Kahiri.” The boy shook her hand. A slim beaded bracelet spun on his wrist.
“Kahiri, I would like to buy some accra from you.”
The boy frowned. “You can’t buy Accra, but you can go there,” he said. His voice was melodious and sweet.
“I mean those,” Corinne said, pointing to the woman’s large pot.
“Why would you call them Accra?” Kahiri looked at Corinne sideways. “They make those saltfish cakes in Accra, too, but they are not as good as my ma’s.”
“Whatever they call them, can we have some?” Bouki said.
The boy strained his neck to see beyond Corinne. “How many do you want?” he asked.
“Twelve,” Corinne said.
“You will have to pay me first.” Kahiri put out his hand.
“I don’t have any money,” Corinne said. “But I can show you something that you have never seen before. Only, you have to keep it a secret.”
“And what will my ma do if I give away her food? How will we live? Nothing you can show me is worth money in my pocket.”
Corinne stepped aside so the boy could see the mermaids swimming below them. His mouth went slack and his eyes gleamed. “You can take a closer look when you bring the accra,” Corinne said.
“They’re called saltfish cakes,” Kahiri whispered. “But I still can’t get food from my ma without money.”
“We’ll starve!” Bouki said.
Malik patted Dru’s pocket.
“Oh!” Dru said. She pulled out the coin she had taken from the shipwreck and passed it to Corinne.
“What about this?” Corinne asked.
Kahiri squinted. “Where did you get that?”
“Is it enough to pay for breakfast?”
Kahiri took the coin to his mother. She immediately looked in the direction of the fort, on the other side of the beach. His mother called another vendor over. While they turned the coin in their hands, Kahiri packed the accra and slipped away.
The children dove into the saltfish cakes greedily as Kahiri crawled to the water close to the chattering mermaids.
“Which one of them is Mami Wata?” he asked.
“Who?” Bouki asked, but Malik slapped his hand over his brother’s mouth, knocking one of the accra to the ground. Without missing a beat, Bouki swiped it up, blew the dirt off, and popped it back in. He made a face. “Sandy.”
Corinne remembered Mami Wata from the wall painting. “Why do you think she is one of them?”
“She’s a water goddess, and she can look like anything she wants,” Kahiri said. “They are mermaids. One of them must be her.”
“I’m Mami Wata,” Corinne said quickly, ignoring the looks from her friends. “I am the goddess. And I’m in charge of them.”
The boy looked Corinne and the others up and down, then shook his head. “You don’t look like a goddess to me.”
“You just said I can look like anything,” Corinne said. “So why do you doubt me?”
Kahiri grunted. “Because I know girls, and you look just like one of those. Ri
ght down to the way you are trying to fool me.”
“Being one thing and then another is nothing to me.” She pointed to the mermaids. “They were girls too. They lived here once.” Corinne called to the mermaids. “This boy might be able to help us.”
The mermaids’ faces lit up. They talked over each other in that same language the vendors used. Kahiri leaned in, trying to understand all of them at once. Finally, he turned to Corinne and said, “Okay, you are real.”
“But are you real?” Noyi asked. She pulled closer to Kahiri. When the water became too shallow to swim in, she dragged herself, dark blue tail and all, onto the bank. As soon as she touched dry land, her skin began to change. The soft brown of her upper body turned ashen and then puckered. She was drying out in the sun. The color in her blue tail paled, and the fins went from a sparkling silver to a flat, dull gray.
Malik and Corinne ran and pulled her back into the water. Noyi’s skin and scales returned to normal. “Stay where you are,” Corinne commanded. “It’s not safe for you on land.” She turned to Kahiri. “We need your help to find a jewel. It looks like—”
“The bottom of the sea?” Kahiri said. “Everybody knows Mami Wata’s—your—stone, and that if you rub it you will have good luck for life. The woman who owns it is the richest person around.”
Corinne squared her shoulders and lifted her chin the way she did when she was negotiating. “It’s mine and I need it back,” she said.
“That won’t be easy,” said Kahiri. “Ma Dessaly doesn’t let anybody see it, and she won’t believe you are Mami Wata.”
“I will just have to convince her,” Corinne said. She unbraided the few remaining plaits so she looked more like the painting of Mami Wata.
Kahiri raised his eyebrows. “You will have to do more than that,” he said. “It would help if you used your snakes.”
“Snakes!” said Dru.
Kahiri scooped down into a patch of grass and grabbed a writhing little snake with a coppery pattern on its back, a yellow belly, and eyes that looked too large for its thin body. He held it up to Corinne’s face. She stumbled back. “Why do you look so sweaty?” Kahiri asked.
Rise of the Jumbies Page 7