“Ask this old bag of bones if Jonah was in the hut when he returned from sleeping under the tree,” Longstands said to Edwards, clearly frustrated. The old man wasn’t providing any useful information and Longstands had a nagging feeling that he was lying and had something to hide. “Tie him against the tree,” Longstands snapped; he’d had enough of the old man’s lies and didn’t have much time to waste.
The interrogation of Ashana's mother didn’t last so long. Mr. Longstands had lost his patience; he didn’t see how Marecia could be so calm when she was fully aware that her daughter hadn’t returned to their hut the previous night and hadn’t been seen all morning.
If Marecia had no idea of the escape, she would have been alarmed by the disappearance of her daughter and promptly reported it. But all she said in response to everything she was asked about her daughter’s disappearance were the same words—“I don’t know where she is.”
“Tie her up,” Longstands ordered and the slaves swung into action.
“No! Stop immediately,” Nathan ordered. The slaves took their hands off the woman and looked at Massa Longstands, who in turn looked at his son, his eyes questioning the young man’s challenge of his authority.
Nathan simply looked away from his father and continued speaking. “She is my future mother-in-law and will not be subjected to such manhandling or punishment, besides there is no proof that she was part of this plot. From what you told me Father, the male slave coerced Ashana into running away with him; probably even kidnapped her. I think we should be on our way to find him and punish him; he is the one to be punished, not any one of these old folks.”
Longstands smiled at his son, giving him the kind of smile a father gave to his son the first day the son brought his girlfriend home—the only difference was this smile was fake.
“OK son, you are right,” Longstands said, trying to keep blood from rushing to his face and betray his level of anger. He knew his day would come; he held the four aces and was determined not lose the battle. He had kept his plan to himself so far. By the time the dust settled, Ashana and Jonah would be dead and there wouldn’t be any chance for his son to cause him any more headaches or embarrassment. By the time it was over, Nathan would never suspect that his father had anything to do with Ashana’s death. Longstands had everything figured out and everything was working in his favour. Turning to the slaves he said, “We’ll all return to my quarters for food and then we begin the hunt.”
Chapter Twenty-two
“I
am hungry,” Ashana said, turning over and resting her chin on Jonah’s chest. Jonah leaned his head sideways, looked into her eyes and a warm feeling ran through his spine as he smiled a grateful smile.
“What would you like for breakfast Massa?” he asked with a smile, mimicking the house slaves. She smiled and dug her fingers against his ribs, tickling him continuously. He struggled for freedom but she was already sitting on him, “Say please Massa,” she ordered, laughing at his sudden powerlessness.
“Ple… p… ple… ase Massa,” he stammered. When she stopped and his hiccups subsided, she looked into his eyes and what she saw satisfied her.
“I could die now,” he said.
“What?” she asked, her brow folding like a drawn curtain.
“These few hours of freedom with you have made me feel like nothing has ever made me feel,” Jonah said. “This has been my prayer to the gods and our ancestors ever since I laid my eyes on you. You fill up a space in me so perfectly and in a way I am convinced no other person in this world and all the worlds out there could ever fill. The reality of me and you here seems like a dream and if it is a dream, then it’s one I really don’t want to wake up from.” The first drop of her tears landed on his chest, then two more drops and a few more as Ashana leaned over and rested her body on his.
“I love you so much,” she whispered softly as he hugged her. “You are the air that I breathe.”
Silence
“When all this is over we shall have children, we shall have a hut of our own and we shall never forget our vows to each other.”
“We shall have two boys that look just like their father, just like you Jonah...” she said.
“And two girls that look just like their angel mother,” he interrupted gently.
“We shall walk hand in hand on the paths to the markets and I shall cook for you whatever dish you desire.”
“I shall wake up early in the morning and fish for you and dress you in the finest robes and jewellery,” he promised.
“The hunt has begun.”
“What?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” she asked with a smile.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing,” she answered softly, still lost in the world of his promises.
“I thought you said ‘The hunt has begun.’” he said
“No! I said no such thing,” she said, still dreaming.
“We must leave now,” he said, hurrying her to get to her feet.
“What’s the matter Jonah?”
“Shhh,” he cautioned with his index finger across his lips. “I think I heard a voice.”
“A voice?” Ashana asked, looking around and then giving Jonah a suspicious look.
“ Maybe, it is something in my head but I heard it very clearly. I think they have started looking for us, we must keep moving.”
“OK,” Ashana replied and followed humbly.
“PaNene said we must go to the village to the left of the cave’s exit,” Jonah said with a little quiver in his voice.
“That way then!” she said, pointing in the direction of a mountain that looked like an ostrich with its head in the cloud.
“Yes, that’s got to be it,” Jonah said, slowing his pace to allow her to catch up with him. When she was close enough, he took her hands and held onto them. Fear powered their feet and strengthened their bodies, propelling them into the bushes but it was powerless against the thirst that they struggled with. They had lost their bags in the tunnel along with the little supply of water and food they’d left the Fort with and the more they ran towards the mountain, the farther it appeared—the mountain seemed to be moving backward the same distance they covered towards it.
Jonah knew that Ashana was hungry and he also knew that she was more thirsty than hungry but there weren’t any rivers in the horizon. The land was relatively flat and as his eyes searched far into the distance for water, his heart threatened to drop from fear that there existed a possibility to actually come so far, only to die of hunger or thirst. The heat from the sun didn’t help matters, and at the pace they travelled, Jonah knew it was impossible for them to make it to the foot of the mountain by nightfall.
“I am tired,” Ashana said, barely audible.
“OK Ash, please sit down. I am really sorry I lost our supplies,” Jonah said.
“It’s OK Jonah, I just need a little rest and then we can continue,” she said, taking a seat on the ground.
“Ash, please get some rest, we will only continue whenever you feel fully rested,” he said.
The six slaves sat outside the master's house, under a tree, discussing the escape while waiting for their food.
“It must have taken a lot of courage for them to have done what most of us adults cannot even begin to contemplate,” one of them said in a whisper.
“I agree,” two others chorused, while the others, except Locua, nodded in agreement.
“'The young rascals and their coach, PaNene didn’t care about us and how we would be impacted by their foolish action; how can they make us pay for their safety?” he said, visibly infuriated.
“Locua! I always knew that you were a bad egg,” Bloud said, forgetting that he had to keep his voice down. He was one of the several men who was always at loggerheads with Locua. “How dare you call them cowards when you are the father of all cowards. Shame on you, foolish old man,” he went on, his already broad nostrils expanding and constricting as if he needed more oxygen than n
ormal to contain his anger.
“Didn’t you hear the new rule?” Locua said, a little more humbly.
“Be quiet,” the rest of the men chorused, taking sides with Bloud.
“Our working time has been doubled and break time slashed in half, all for a bunch of young rascals,” Locua added raising his voice in his bid to win over at least one person to his side.
“May the gods of my forefathers strike you where it hurts the most when you least expect,” Bloud cursed him, before walking away from the group. The rest of the men followed him, leaving Locua all by himself.
“By no means are you going on that journey, Nathan, and I mean it.” Suzanne’s voice thundered through the entire compound, sending birds fluttering in different directions. “Longstands you must stop him, you really must,” she implored her husband, turning pale as fear drained blood out of her body.
“The boy is twenty-one, he is a grown man. I really don’t know how you expect me to stop him. If you have any ideas, share them,” Longstands said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Nathan ignored the bandying of words between his parents and concentrated on his lunch; his mind was made up and frankly he thought, his mother was one hell of a nag.
“Why go look for a set of slaves who have decided to escape? They’ll surely die out there in no time without food or a map. Why?” she argued desperately.
“Because…” Longstands started, spreading a napkin around his neck, ready to commence with his lunch. “It is my duty as the head of this Fort and master of all in it, to recapture every escaped slave and return them to the Fort to face the music...”
“Yea yea yea blah blah blah,” Suzanne interrupted, scared that she was losing the battle. “I know your duties, 'Massa' Longstands,” she whispered into his ear mockingly. “But how the bloody hell is it Nathan's duty?” She yelled.
“Why don’t you ask him? He is right here with us and he is your son,” Longstands shot back.
“Because he is as much a fool as his father!” she yelled at Longstands and stormed away.
Chapter Twenty-three
T
hey had covered half the distance to Morne Turner when the sun began to dip behind the sea and they still hadn’t had anything to eat or water to quench their thirst. Jonah found a place suitable for them to spend the night, cleared the ground underneath an almond tree then helped Ashana to lie down. He was very cautious in the way he handled her; she was extremely exhausted and appeared fragile. He fixed her legs first, then rested her back before resting her head on a pillow of dried leaves he’d arranged. Standing with his hands on his hips and his head tilted all the way back, Jonah allowed his eyes to comb every inch of every branch of the almond tree but there wasn’t a single almond not even a budding one. It was too early in the season.
“Ash, I see something that looks like a cassava tree ahead,” he whispered into her Ashana’s ear. Her eyes were closed and he wasn’t sure she heard him but he continued to speak. “I will go over and see if they are ready, if they are, I will harvest some and return.”
He was just about to leave when she spoke, “Don’t stay too long and be careful.”
“I promise Ash, I promise I will be back in no time,” Jonah assured her, caressing her face while fighting back tears. He’d been gone for only a few minutes when she woke up suddenly; it was almost as if someone had just slapped her on her thigh; her eyes scrambled to adjust to the darkness. The eerie feeling that ran from her toes all the way up her spine told her something was wrong. Ashana felt a presence very close to her but her constant scan of the area yielded no result; she couldn’t see anything but she was sure her instincts couldn’t be wrong. There were too many goose bumps all over her body, confirming her suspicion. There was somebody or something lurking somewhere behind any one of the trees or bushes, Ashana thought, sitting up slowly.
“Where are you Jonah?” she whispered to herself. “Please come to me, Jonah. I need you, please come to me, come now.”
The feeling was very strong and worse because she couldn’t place the source; a time like this was when she’d have been really happy to have Jonah around. Where was he and why wasn’t he back? She was still wondering when she saw them; a pair of bright burning eyes that pierced the darkness, were looking straight at her. Fear gripped her and travelled haphazardly through her body. Her throat became desert dry; she wanted to call out to Jonah but her mouth only stayed open without any words coming out.
Suddenly the pair of eyes appeared to move then to be inching closer and closer until Ashana found herself staring at a set of sharp fangs and a tongue halfway out of the beast’s mouth, dancing and dripping some slimy spittle. It looked like a dog, a wild dog, Ashana thought but whatever it was, one thing was sure, it wasn’t there to make friends with her. She wanted to get up and run but as she moved her hands, it snarled in objection.
“Jo Jo Jooonaaaah,” she managed to scream but the corresponding growl from the wild dog drowned the sound. She made to stand up the second time, and the beast inched closer in a very menacing manner, causing her to remain put and to wet herself instantly. Tears filled Ashana’s eyes and she prayed for a miracle–she prayed for Jonah to return, for the slave hunters to find her. She prayed for anything other than the teeth of the ugly wild dog in her flesh.
She could hear the beast sniffing the air, trying to smell her and she closed her eyes. Her eyelids pressed tightly together and the lashes interlocked; she feared that it was over and expected a chunk of her flesh to be in the mouth of the beast anytime. Then a sudden ruffle of the bushes to her left sent both her head and the dog’s turning sharply to the left—it was Jonah.
“Jonaaaah!” she cried, overwhelmed by excitement.
The cassava tubers in Jonah’s hands had barely touched the ground when the beast pounced on him, it went for his throat but he was fast–he caught the dog’s forelegs and flung it away into the bushes. Ashana screamed at the top of her voice, frustrated by her inability to help Jonah. The dog had a serious advantage over the man and didn’t make any bones about using it. The night was as day to the dog. While Jonah was still staggering and looking around, it returned and pounced on him from behind, knocking him to the ground.
“Ahhh,” Jonah cried out from the pain of the beast’s fangs buried in his back; he knew the next move for the dog would be to rip the flesh off his body. To prevent it, he quickly allowed himself to fall back, transferring his weight onto the beast and pushing hard on it. The dog let out a squeal and retracted its teeth; it was all that Jonah needed. Quickly turning around, he grabbed the dog’s neck as it launched forward and he squeezed with all his strength, anger, and pain. The beast kicked and pushed as its air supply got cut off but Jonah’s grip remained locked until he felt it go limp. Then with all his strength, he slammed the beast against the tree under which Ashana once lay. It let out a cry that echoed faraway into the night, scrambled to its feet, and disappeared into the bushes.
“Ash ... Ashana,” Jonah called out in pain.
“Jonah!” she stammered from her hiding place behind a bush.
“Where are you Ash?”
“Over here,” she said, still scared. He crawled slowly towards the direction her voice had come from and they embraced.
“Aahhh,” he cried recoiling from the pain on his back. His back hurt but the pain could not be compared to the fear in their hearts. The beast survived and the fear of the possibility that it was hiding somewhere in the dark, having them in clear view and patiently waiting for them to let down their guards before attacking again, bothered Jonah. He cuddled in the darkness with Ashana, wondering in which direction the beast fled and from which direction it was likely to return.
“Follow me,” Jonah instructed. Ashana followed without any questions and they both crawled quietly in the dark like soldiers in the middle of raining bullets. Hunger and thirst, which were once their major concern had suddenly taken second place. Fear of a hungry beast lurking somewhere in the vast e
xpanse of darkness was now on top of their list of immediate problems. They continued to crawl into the dark as fast and as far away from the beast as they thought they could.
Chapter Twenty-four
T
he search had been going on for over four frustrating hours by the time they ran into the second obstacle. Massa Longstands’s patience was already leaking away; it was any one's guess as to when it would finally run out, considering it hadn’t been of any significant quantity to begin with.
Locua's proposed short cut was taking longer than initially advertised; the group had spent a great deal of time trying to move a huge tree that lay across the road, making it impassable. They couldn’t risk going around it; there was a precipice to the right and a mountain to the left. Having the horses jump over the huge tree trunk was even riskier; the path was very narrow and any mistake could send the horses and their riders over 700 feet into the precipice. By the time the tree was moved to make enough room for the horses to pass, everybody was exhausted and swearing at Locua. But only a few meters ahead, they ran into an even more formidable obstacle that forecast the end of their journey through Locua's highly touted route.
Rain had washed away part of the road, the deep gash that gaped at them was not something that could be repaired right away unless they had a dozen months to spare—in the absence of which there was only one alternative; return the same way they came and seek another route. This inevitable option made Nathan want to jump off his horse and shove Locua into the opening in the earth.
“The way I see it, we’ll have to return to the Fort and restart this journey first thing tomorrow morning,” Longstands said, turning to his son.
“And what might the reason for that decision be, if I may ask, Father?” Nathan said, challenging his father.
“First of all,” Mr. Longstands began, blood shooting to his head, turning his ears crimson red. “This is not England, as I am sure you did notice. And since that is the case, I am also quite sure you can see that the street lights aren’t on, and I doubt any bush lights will be coming on anytime soon.” He enjoyed the opportunity to politely hurl some sarcasm at his son; the young man had completely stopped showing any kind of respect for his father.
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