Quintspinner

by Dianne Greenlay

  “This reminds me of the night I saw you playing your flute on board the Mary Jane,” Tess yelled breathlessly and she and William danced around the pole, following the patterned footsteps of the celebrating villagers.

  “Me too,” William replied. “I’d always hoped to get another chance at this.”

  “At what?” Tess teased.

  “Dancing by your side. Only the first time, I was wishing that I was still hurt, so that I could have leaned into your arms, and now I’m wishing that I wasn’t, so that I could take you into mine,” William answered. Tess could feel herself blush at his honest reply, flushing with pleasure at his bluntness. She made a mental note to herself to do a healing session with William’s knee in the morning.

  All around them the drums and rattles and chants reached a dizzying pitch. It seemed impossible that the entire island would not be able to hear the festivities. Tess hoped that her grandmother could hear the rhythm, wherever she was.

  She is still alive. I know it. I feel it in my heart … and I feel it with my ring.

  Tess could not bring herself to consider any other possibility. The scouts would be leaving in a few hours, traveling in the safety of the early morning’s moonlit shadows. They would look, they would inquire among those that they could make safe contact with, and they would search again. They have to be successful. They just have to.

  Several dancers had fallen to the ground, some out of exhaustion and some in apparent trances, and it was then that Tess noticed Cassie crouched at the foot of one of the huts. Her shoulders shook as she buried her face in her hands.

  “Cass …?” Tess approached her sister gently. “Cass, what’s wrong?”

  Cassie lifted her tear stained face up to Tess. “The baby. I felt it move. Oh my God, I felt it move!” she cried.

  “That’s good, Cass. That’s what babies do–they kick and flip and turn,” Tess floundered, not knowing what to say to ease Cassie’s distress. “Feeling your baby move … is a good thing,” she reiterated.

  “It just makes it all so real,” Cassie wept. “I am defiled. I carry another man’s child.” She looked at Tess and sobbed, “Who would ever want me now?”

  Before Tess could reply, they were startled by a quick movement beside them.

  “I would,” Samuel Smith spoke, his voice tender as he stepped out of the depth of the shadows. “With all of my heart.”

  The searchers were expected to return within seven days. It was with much surprise then, that the lookouts ballyhooed their return just before noon of the third day. The returning scouts explained, with some annoyance, that they would have arrived even sooner if the found man’s leg had been intact, but with one foot missing, he had had to be carried for much of the trip.

  The white woman and man had been easily located. A covert inquiry had been made to a group of sugar mill workers at the nearest plantation situated at the foot of the island’s mountains. Yes, the mill workers had easily confided, a pair matching the description had been recovered from the shoreline directly to the east of the plantation’s edge. The two white people had been brought back to the plantation by the owners in fact, to work as a carpenter and a seamstress in the big house, when they had recovered well enough.

  “Did you use the lens–the polished glass–to buy their freedom?” Tess impatiently asked the leader of the returning troupe.

  “No,” the long-haired caramel-skinned man replied, shaking his head in either disgust or disbelief–Tess was not sure which–as he looked back at the two new arrivals who were still struggling in their descent down the hillside.

  “No, dat woman,” he frowned and snorted, as though unable to believe his own words. “Dat round glass she use to buy dat black goat!”

  Word of the shipwreck had spread rapidly among the island’s inhabitants, and news regarding it had been brought back by the scouting party.

  “I heard the plantation owner tellin’ his wife not to worry. He told her that one of Carlos Crisanto’s ships had capsized, whilst the other had been blown onto the reef of another island altogether,” Tess’s grandmother informed Tess and the others.

  “Which ship sunk?” William pressed her for details.

  “Didn’t hear that. Don’t know if they knew themselves. All that I heard after that was that the cargoes of both was probably lost forever. An’ no mention of our poor little Tommy either, bless his soul.” She dabbed at her eyes. “It’s a past wiped clean. Just the six of us left.” She looked at each of them. “We was brought together fer a reason, ya’ know. Always somethin’ comes from somethin’ don’cha know?”

  Relief at having found her grandmother soothed Tess’s immediate worries, yet she woke each morning from sweet dreams that filled her head only to have them replaced with the pain of remembered losses, burning like an incision that was being slowly peeled open. She wondered what balm could heal such an ache, as she busied herself with the daily chores, focusing on the exhausting business of tribal health care.

  Within the first few weeks, Tess quickly established herself as one whose healing abilities surpassed even Mambo’s. With the aid of the emeralds once again encircling her fourth finger, her advice and treatment were credited with Jacko’s ongoing recovery.

  Slowly others sought her out. Wounds and fevers, boils and babies–all were potential life threatening conditions in the tropics–and the Maroons therefore had nothing to lose in seeking Tess’s help. Her knowledge and assessments were a good complement to Mambo’s potions and botanical ingredients.

  Cassie assisted with the weeding of the small gardens and tiny fields, while Mrs. Hanley made wonderful broths and mashes out of the measly food supplies available to the village’s inhabitants. Shortly after her liberation from the plantation’s big house, she had mysteriously been able to produce a moderate supply of tasty herbs and spices from numerous pockets sewn within the tattered folds of her skirt.

  The three men quickly proved their usefulness as they expertly reinforced the camp’s ramshackle living quarters with pieces of wooden debris recently scavenged from the shoreline. The village’s huts which had been hastily erected to begin with, now boasted sturdy frames upon which heavily camouflaged surfaces, woven with fronds and vines, provided comfortable shelter from the daily tropical downpours as well as from the winds that affected the camp situated so high above the mainland.

  Nevertheless, it was plain to all, that accommodating six extra people imposed a new strain on the existing living space.

  It was Smith who arrived at an unexpected solution of sorts. He felt, however, a need to confer with William before putting his plan into place.

  Tess and Cassie sat side by side, taking a break from tending the meager plants which grew in tidy rows at the side of the camp. Both of them were weary in the midday heat. Cassie seemed resigned to her changing body and even smiled as she held a hand over her expanding girth, feeling her baby’s strengthening kicks.

  As Cassie wondered out loud where Smith and William had wandered off to, Tess idly spun her rings, thinking that she should probably remove them if she was going to do daily physical labor with her hands. Both of them nodded a polite greeting when Mambo strolled past and without warning, an absurd thought struck Tess, as clear as any event in her life.

  “So where do you think they got to anyway?” Cassie was asking.

  Tess, oblivious to Cassie’s question, stared at the retreating silhouette of Mambo and her heart began to race in her chest. It was then that she realized that she was still spinning her rings. Fidgeting with them was becoming an obsessive habit. Quickly she squelched their movements, holding them still. The series of a few insistent pictures continued to play over and over in her head.

  “Tess?” Cassie’s gentle tug on her arm brought Tess out of her jumble of thoughts.

  “Cass,” Tess replied in a wary tone, “I’ve just had a vision–at least that’s what I think it was–and I think we’d better get prepared.”

  It was only a few heart-stopping m
inutes before William and Smith reappeared around the corner of one of the huts. The Mambo stood behind them and watched as they made their way back up the path. They stopped just short of Tess and Cassie, their faces creased with worry.

  Tess’s heart pounded furiously and she felt the familiar vise-like grip of apprehension encircling her. She wasn’t sure if she could suffer through any more uncertainty, any more change in her life. Bathed in such thoughts, her anxiety began to build, crushing her as William began to speak.

  “Uh, I was wondering if–if–” William stuttered shyly and glanced nervously at Smith who stood completely tongue-tied but who stared at the rings adorning Tess’s hand.

  My God! Tess was momentarily confused. It had not escaped her notice that the rings remained the objects of many envious glances and outright stares. Was I wrong? Don’t tell me that they’re going to ask to use the rings to ransom our freedom! They might be the way to our freedom–but free to go where? Protectively, she nestled one hand over the rings on her fingers. A clear picture flashed in her mind at that moment and she inhaled deeply, her heart pounding.

  William tried again. “We talked to Mambo and she ….” William stopped and licked his lips, his mouth having suddenly gone dry.

  Tess glanced at Cassie who looked no less anxious. In fact Cassie was visibly swaying, overcome with a dizziness that threatened to fell her. As Tess’s own apprehension exploded, Cassie began to crumple. Her collapse broke Smith out of his stupor and he threw himself forward, catching her in mid-fall. Clutching her to his chest, he lifted a panic-filled face towards Tess.

  “Wha–what’s wrong with her?” he stammered.

  “Nothing she won’t recover from,” Tess replied, more convinced than ever that the vision had somehow been a truthful glimpse into the near future.

  Gathered in Smith’s arms, Cassie stirred and her eyes fluttered. She stared up at his face, her eyebrows raised in surprise, but she made no effort to move.

  William continued to look from Smith and Cassie back to Tess and appeared as though he truly regretted having started this dialogue, and that he might consider fainting himself.

  “Would you please speak your intended thoughts and spare us all any further anguish?” Tess demanded. She had not intended for her words to have sounded quite so harsh and for a moment she empathized with his discomfort. Tentatively William reached out for her hand and taking a breath, struggled to find his next words. Tess could stand it no longer.

  “Oh for goodness sakes!” she exploded impatiently. “Yes! From both of us! We’ll give it serious consideration.”

  Three pairs of eyes locked onto her in astonishment.

  “Yes to what?” Cassie inquired, freeing herself from Smith’s arms and stumbling to her feet.

  It was Tess’s turn to become overtaken with sudden embarrassment. What if the vision was wrong? What if it was only my imagination?

  A matching pair of face-splitting grins chased away the initial looks of shock on the faces of both William and Smith.

  “You’ll agree to think about it?” William voiced his proposal aloud, his voice tight with hope.

  Tess regarded Cassie, whose brows were gathered together in complete incomprehension.

  “Yes to what? Tess! Surely you aren’t going to give up your rings!” Cassie’s accusation hung in the air.

  “My rings?” Now it was Tess’s brows that pulled together in confusion. “Of course not!” She studied her sister’s worried face. And then it hit her.

  Of course Cassie doesn’t understand–can’t understand what’s only been thought of and not yet said out loud! The vision had been right. The rings really did have the powers. I just have to learn to focus on their messages to me. To trust in myself, in my inner knowledge. It was becoming easier. The rings were a part of her new future now and for the first time since having left London, Tess felt the cloak of sadness slipping off her shoulders. Change did not always have to be foreboding. She understood that now. Perhaps she had little control of what was to come, but she had full control over how she chose to respond. The realization left her speechless and a little lightheaded with the tingle of a faint but growing joy.

  “We’ll build two more huts then,” Smith was announcing simply, having found his voice at last. “The Mambo’s agreed to do a ceremony of sorts,” he added, “if you’d be in agreement with makin’ do with the local customs ….”

  “Ceremony?” Understanding slowly replaced the confusion in Cassie’s face and she gasped and blushed at the same time.

  “Are you asking for my hand, Samuel?” she asked Smith unable to hide the incredulity in her voice.

  “I’d like yer hand, yer heart, and … yup, I am,” Smith concluded, his attempt at a romantic reply petering out.

  Tess stared at William, who stood before her, still lost for words. Shyly he raised one hand and made a fist then spread his fingers out.

  Ooh-ah. It was a choked whisper. He had barely mouthed the syllables out loud but there they were. Slowly reaching out to meet William’s outstretched palm with her own, Tess marveled at the strength and size of his hand compared to her own. His fingers curled and grasped hers, his touch as warm as the smile that was spreading across his face.

  “It won’t matter who gives the blessings, will it? No matter how the ceremony’s done?” William asked, swallowing thickly.

  Tentatively leaning forward, she touched her lips softly to William’s. As he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his mouth to hers, she felt him tasting her, inhaling her delicious scent, responding to her sweet breath upon his skin. Her lips lingered a moment longer upon his before she broke away, her voice full of promise.

  “Our hearts will know the right words.”

  Finding Mr. Lancaster resting in the cool shade of an overhanging bough, Tess squatted down to examine him. She had stopped by to treat his stump, as the tender skin covering the end of his amputation had been torn open by the reef when he had been swept ashore during the storm. Mambo had given a salve to Tess and she applied it carefully to his stump’s ragged wound. The carpenter scowled and grunted in discomfort, and then suddenly screeched, “Hold off! That burns like the flames of Hell, an’ I’d rather snuff it from the pus than to have ya’ burn me leg off a wee bit at a time!” His eyes bulged with indignation.

  “Shush now, an’ hold still,” Mrs. Hanley scolded him and then added, “It’ll heal ya’ an’ I want ya’ to be in good enough form to dance with me at our weddin’.”

  “What?” Tess asked in astonishment. She looked at her grandmother and then at her patient who suddenly stared at his bleeding stump with a freshly found intense interest.

  “Your wedding? Whose idea was–?”

  Tess’s incredulous inquiry was cut short by a cough and another grunt from Mr. Lancaster. He glanced at Tess for only a moment before dropping his gaze to study his leg once more.

  “Your Gram, well, ya’ know how she feels about things happenin’ in three’s–fer good luck an’ all–an’ it seemed an alright thing to do ….” His voice trailed away and he shrugged his broad shoulders as though that was all the explanation in the world that was needed.

  Tess looked at her grandmother who was grinning broadly, her news having been officially revealed.

  “Can you use the ring, darlin’? To help his leg heal up quick, I mean.”

  “Gram,” Tess began, examining the three rings upon her fingers. Their brilliance in the tropical sunlight is remarkable. Almost like a rainbow of colors upon my hand. “Do you really believe the story about these rings and why they were made in the first place?” Even as she asked aloud, her thoughts took a different direction. Perhaps the leg really would benefit from a meditation and the glow of the emeralds, too. The wound upon her own neck was nothing more than a thin purple scar now, and William’s limp had certainly cleared since she had treated him.

  Her grandmother looked at Tess in surprise. “Why, what’s not to believe?”

  “It just seems so … inc
redible,” Tess muttered.

  “Darlin’, it’s the strengths of beliefs what makes the world ‘round ya’ real, don’cha know? ‘Course ya’ do,” her grandmother clucked, and looked warmly at Mr. Lancaster.

  “But, she called me a “Quintspinner”,” Tess replied. “The Crone–she called me a ‘Quintspinner’ and … well … quint means five ….” Tess’s voiced trailed away. “And all I have are three rings.”

  “Why, that just means life is not finished with ya’ yet, me darlin’” her grandmother cut in, nodding her head in her usual sagely way. “Yer only better’n halfway through yer own quest now, isn’t that so? An’ in the meantime, ye’ve found someone very special to spend it with, haven’t ya’?” she added, then quietly murmured, “as have I.” She gripped Mr. Lancaster’s hand in her own, beaming at the craggy carpenter who sat blushing furiously at her side. “There’s always somethin’ what comes from somethin’,” she added softly to herself, nodding in confirmation.

  “No, me darlin’,” her grandmother continued happily out loud, “maybe there’ll be more–‘Quintspinner’ sorta’ promises ya’ two more, don’t it?–an’ maybe you’ll just have to practice with what you’ve got ‘til then, learnin’ what they can do fer ya’, an’ all that. Three’s a good number after all, ya’ know.”

  Tess stared into her grandmother’s eyes, so like her own–she could see that now–and waited, expecting to be retold the details of the magic of numbers. Instead her grandmother reached out and cradled her face, the sun-wrinkled fingers still tender and soft upon Tess’s skin.

  “I was always afraid, ya’ know,” the older woman continued calmly, “that my life was gonna’ be lived too carefully to have anythin’ worth tellin’ about.” She looked into Tess’s eyes, her own shining with love for her granddaughter. Tess smiled back at her. As always, her grandmother had a way of seeing things in a positive light.

  Before Tess could say anything in return, her grandmother carried on. “Three rings, maybe four, an’,” she sighed, “maybe, just maybe, all five’ll come to ya’, when the time is right an’ maybe each will have its own adventures attached. Who knows?”