“I thought we were fully prepared to go after the slaves until we found them,” Nathan fired back, trying to match his father’s sarcasm. “I thought we had all the necessary provisions; didn’t know we forgot the bush lights.”
“Listen son, I know how important this is to...”
“To me?” Nathan interrupted, looking his father right in the eyes.
Mr. Longstands took a long look at his son, took a deep breath and shook his head from side to side. He was aware that the slaves had noticed the challenge his son was putting up. They hadn’t seen anyone ever stand up to him in the manner his son did; he knew he had to bring the situation under control to maintain his dignity, but the boy wasn’t giving him any chance.
“You meant to say you knew how important this is to me—was that what you really planned to say?” Nathan interrogated his father.
Longstands made up his mind not travel the same verbal direction that his son was trying to lead him. It was best to ignore the young man; his chance to make Nathan pay would come and he’d use it quite well.
“Why don’t you just go home to your wife while I and the rest of the slaves continue the search?” Nathan added nonchalantly.
Exhausted and frustrated, Longstands decided to approach the young man from a different angle. “Nathan,” he said in a placid voice. “OK, OK, I think I have a better idea. Why don’t you let me send Edwards to Mr. Bushwacker; he is the expert in the slave-hunting business. There isn’t a single slave he went after that he didn’t catch. His fee is a good bit but he has a band of professionals and he knows his job….”
“I'd contribute to his fee,” Nathan interrupted in a voice that matched his father’s new tone. “Tell me how much it will cost and how we can get a hold of him right now?”
“This is on me, son. Please let me handle this,” Longstands said, overcome by his son’s stupid persistence. “But this will have to be done first thing in the morning because...”
“It’s only 6.15 p.m. Father and I am....” Nathan interrupted but his father simply ignored him.
“And Mr. Bushwacker only lives in Roseau, which happens to be a mere two hours’ ride from here,” Longstands continued, interrupting his son in the same manner, his voice still hinting suppressed rage and dissipating patience.
“And I am willing to go meet him myself, even though he lives in Roseau and even if Roseau were a mere ten-hour ride from here, that's what I meant to say before you interrupted me Father.”
“OK Nathan, if you do have two hundred pounds on you right now, then you can proceed to Roseau from here or else we’ll have no choice but to return to the Fort where I have the money with which to pay Mr. Bushwacker. From what I have learnt he does not believe in credit, so we go to the Fort, you get the money, and go on your way to Bushwacker,” Longstands said, steering his horse around without bothering to see his son’s reaction. The slaves followed and then Nathan followed after a frustrated hesitation.
Just the previous night, they had slept in the tunnel with eyes half open in fear of a monstrous snake. Once again, they’d have to sleep with an eye open; this time in an open field. The fear in their hearts was as deep as the gashes left on Jonah’s back by the wild beast but not as loud as the rumble in their stomachs nor as sizzling as the heat in their throats. He had managed to stop the bleeding by lying on his back for a while and allowing dry sand to somehow fill up the gashes.
“Gather any stones and strong woods that you can find and place them nearby,” Jonah said.
“Okay.”
“Now go to sleep Ashana, I’ll stay awake in case that beast shows up again,” Jonah said after they’d placed a pile of stones and sticks around them.
“I’ll stay up too,” Ashana managed to vocalize.
“No my dear, please get some rest, I’ll be fine,” Jonah said, lying next to Ashana, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes focused on a constellation in the sky. When Ashana offered no response, he turned to look at her; she was already sound asleep. He smiled, rolled over, and kissed her on the forehead then returned to his position, determined not to give sleep the slightest chance to overtake him.
Chapter Twenty-five
J
onah woke up cursing and swearing at himself for falling deeply asleep, then scrambled about wildly like a scared madman. It was still dark but he knew it was the kind of darkness that quickly gave way to dusk; his eyes struggled to adjust to the surrounding gloom but missed the dog. Settling down after a few minutes, Jonah reckoned that they must have been asleep the whole night; he could have killed himself for it. “How on earth could I have fallen asleep so deep and for so long?” he said, rebuking himself under his breath but it wasn’t long before he slowly slipped back to sleep after many failed attempts to fight it.
This gave the wild dog the opportunity to reduce the gap between them; it had spent the entire night watching the two sleep away. All night, the dog had continued to approach the two very slowly and quietly, stopping at each body movement either one of them made. Now after a few minutes’ wait the dog was sure that Jonah was fast asleep again and decided it was time it made its last move. Slowly and cautiously, it crawled on its stomach until it was right over Jonah’s right leg. Then very slowly it lowered its head and gently rested it on Jonah's leg and then fell asleep.
The soft knock on his door told him that Nathan was on the other side. The boy was still in a good mood; Longstands could tell his son’s mood from the intensity and frequency of the rap on his door. Nathan would knock gently with pauses in between when his mood was breezy but when he was in a foul temper, the rap was harder, louder and continuous.
Longstands turned the door handle and pulled in the door, took one look at his spitting image and smiled.
“Morning Father,” Nathan greeted.
“Morning,” Longstands replied, looking his son straight in the eyes. The ocean-blue eyes were blank, devoid of any sign but Longstands knew what the boy wanted. He could also tell that Nathan had no time for pleasantries.
“Hmm.” Longstands sighed and returned to the corner of his bed; reached under his pillow, pulled out a brown envelope and extended his hand to Nathan.
“Two hundred pounds and a note. When you meet Mr. Bushwacker give it to him; the note in it will tell him what to do,” he said.
Nathan received the envelope, turned around, and walked out without a word; this didn’t bother Longstands. He simply waited until the door closed then gently stood up from his bed—“Bloody bed!” He swore at the bamboo bed for having a habit of giving away every movement one made while in it. Then tiptoeing quietly to the door, he listened to his son’s footfalls as the boy walked through the long corridor. When Longstands was certain that Nathan had disappeared around the corner into the living room, the porch, or his bedroom, he turned the door handle gently, poked his head into the corridor, and called out to Edwards very casually.
“Massa!” Edwards answered almost immediately.
“Come here!”
“Yes Massa,” Edwards replied, already halfway to Mr. Longstands’s room.
“Come in,” Longstands said in response to Edwards’s soft raps.
“Yes Massa,” Edwards said, still standing by the door; the Massa rarely invited anyone into his bedroom. “Yes Massa,” he said as soon as the door was open enough to allow him a view of the master sitting at the edge of his bed.
“Edwards I said come in, didn’t I?” Longstands said without looking up.
“Yes Massa,” Edwards said, now inside the room but only inches from the door.
“Well then, bloody come in and close the door!” Longstands’s impatience half yelled at Edwards.
“Yes Massa!” Edwards replied, it was the second time he was entering the master’s room in all the years he’d worked at the Fort, his eyes remained glued to his feet as he waited for further instructions.
“Give this envelope to Mr. Bushwacker,” Longstands said.
“Yes Massa.”
&n
bsp; “It is imperative that Nathan does not see you give this envelope to Bushwacker and will you get over here and take the bloody envelope from me?”
“Yes Massa,” Edwards said taking two steps towards the master as if he’d been pushed by a man twice his size.
“Now listen carefully.”
“Yes Massa.”
“Gather the search team,” Longstands began very slowly, pronouncing each word as clearly as possible. He intended for Edwards to understand every word he said and to carry out every single instruction he was about to give him without any mistakes. “After you’ve gathered the search team, let Nathan know that you are ready, then take everybody to Mr. Bushwacker’s place in Roseau—do you follow so far?”
“Yes Massa.”
“Good. Then you must find a way to meet with Mr. Bushwacker in private—in his office maybe; then give him the envelope.”
“Yes Massa,” Edwards said, nodding at the same time.
“Do you know what I mean by privately?”
“No Massa.”
“So why say yes if you don’t know the word?” Longstands almost shouted; frustrated.
“Sorry Massa...”
“Save it, Edwards,” Longstands snapped, “When I say ‘privately’ I mean you give Mr. Bushwacker the envelope when he is alone and only when nobody can see you give it to him…”
“Yes Massa.”
“Shut up and listen–now do you understand what I mean by ‘privately’?”
“Yes Massa.”
“What?”
“Massa Bushwacker alone, I give envelope.”
“Good!”
“Do not let anyone—no one, especially Nathan–no one must see you give him the envelope. Do you understand?”
“Yes Massa.”
“Good. Now after giving Bushwacker the envelope, you must return to the Fort and the others will proceed with the search alongside Bushwacker or however they arrange to go about the search. Now listen carefully, make sure nobody sees you giving Bushwacker the envelope.”
“Yes Massa,” Edwards replied, and then he disappeared from the room. Longstands went back to bed and tried to fall asleep—in less than forty-eight hours his problems would be over and he wouldn’t have to beg for sleep anymore. Soon Bushwacker would read the letter delivered by Edwards, find the slaves and end his problem. Nathan would return to the Fort without the girl and have no other choice but to get over his childishness. He’d then give his father back the diary as he promised; the boy was a man of his word. If only he could convince Nathan that he’d done everything within his power to find Ashana he’d definitely get back his diary. Suzanne would stop breathing fire on him and everything would return to normal.
By the time the sun had risen halfway from behind the sea, Nathan and his men were into the initial phase of their journey to meet Mr. Bushwacker. Nathan's heart felt a lot lighter; all he wanted was to do was find Ashana and even though his father had told him to return to the Fort, if for any reason he felt that his life was in danger, he intended to be there when Ashana and the slave boy were found. He was happy that his father had solicited the help of professional slave hunters. He felt grateful, even though he didn’t want to show it to his father but he still wasn’t convinced that neither of his parents had anything to do with the girl’s disappearance.
“How good is this man Bushwacker?” he asked turning to Edwards.
“Good, very good, Massa,” Edwards said.
“Tell me Edwards, how long do you think it will take Bushwacker and his men to find Ashana?” Nathan asked.
“Very quickly Massa, quickly quickly,” Edwards said.
“So, hopefully by tomorrow?”
“Yes Massa, maybe tomorrow.”
“Good, that’s what I want, I want her found as soon as possible and tomorrow would be great.”
“How long before we get to Bushwacker’s house?” he asked Edwards for the umpteenth time.
“We go left and then right and right–there Massa Bushwacker house,” Edwards replied.
It was Ashana who woke up first; sunrays had found a space between the leaves of the tree under which the two had taken shelter the night before and gently warmed up her bare shoulder. She rubbed the spot with her left palm, still very sleepy, but as she made to return to sleep her eyes fell on the crazy wild dog from the night before. She froze immediately but the beast had already opened its eyes and was looking her straight in the eyes. She froze again, then as if suddenly realizing that Ashana posed no threat to it, the dog closed its eyes and slowly went back to sleep. Ashana was near tears again but this time from confusion, she had to wake Jonah up and she had to do it fast. But what if she placed Jonah in danger in trying to wake him up? What would the dog do if Jonah woke up with a start and rattled it?
After a few gentle nudges, and as if her prayers had been answered, Jonah woke up lazily, rubbing his eyes and wondering why Ashana's palm was over his mouth. He turned to stare at Ashana, his eyes asking her all the questions that her palm over his mouth prevented him from verbalizing. She rolled her eyes in the direction of Jonah’s right leg while continuing to secure his mouth with her palm. He followed her eyes and soon enough, his eyes fell on the head of a black and furry animal, he recognized it immediately–it was the same wild beast that was responsible for the wound on his back and the hunger in his stomach.
He managed to keep his trembling to his upper body while Ashana continued to battle the urge to scream; an urge that was already in her mouth and at the tip of her tongue, just waiting to jump out. Perspiration rained down Jonah’s head and travelled down his face; he felt like a prisoner and he still hadn’t arrived at a conclusion on what his immediate actions should be when the dog opened its eyes lazily. It then spent some time vigorously scratching its left ear before looking up to Jonah and wagging its tail in a friendly manner.
Jonah and Ashana were still lost as to what to make of the dog’s sudden friendliness when it let out a subdued moan then looked away from the couple and slowly lifted its head from Jonah’s leg. Standing up, its tail tucked between its hind legs, it gave the couple a look that seemed to beg them to accept it.
“What does this mean?” Ashana whispered, as they stared at each other, lost and completely baffled at the sight of the beast and at what seemed to be a sudden change of heart on its part. Slowly, the two rose to their feet and cautiously walked backwards one step at a time, trying to increase the space between the animal and themselves as much and as quickly as possible. But the dog simply lay in the same position, watching them back away, whining like a puppy in need of attention.
After a hundred meters stood between them and the dog, Jonah stopped and took a long look into the eyes of the animal. It was devoid of evil intentions. He saw no danger, no hatred or rivalry; nothing but a request for friendship. Slowly tearing himself away from Ashana's tight embrace, he summoned up courage and took a scary step towards the dog. It wagged its tail faster. Stopping at a safe distance, Jonah reached out his right hand and lowered it slowly on the dog's head. The dog's tail went crazy wagging in all directions then it rolled over on its back begging for more love.
“You like it, right?” Jonah said, his initial fear slowly ebbing as he continued to rub the dog’s belly. Turning to look at Ashana he immediately realized that it would be a while before she accepted the newest member of their family; she was still frozen and her face bore expressions of not only disbelief but disapproval as well.
“Ash,” Jonah called out gently.
Silence.
“Ash, what do you think we should name her?”
Silence again.
Ashana wasn’t planning to be a part of anything that had to do with the beast, even if it only meant suggesting a name. She didn’t feel comfortable with the arrangement.
It was late afternoon when they finally arrived at Roseau and it took them another hour before Nathan finally sat at Mr. Bushwacker’s table with Edwards standing behind him while the rest of the slav
es waited outside the hut.
“What brings you here Mr...?”
“Nathan. Nathan Longstands, sir,” Nathan said, his eyes traveling from the steam that rose from the stained china cup enclosed in Bushwacker’s oversized palm, down to the wooden table where the giant’s huge elbows rested squarely.
“Longstands? You must be Captain Longstands’s son then,” Bushwacker said with a smile that revealed a mouth crammed with teeth.
“Yes sir, I certainly am,” Nathan replied reluctantly.
“Mighty pleasured to meet you, young man. How is your old man?”
“Fine.”
“And how is our beautiful homeland?”
“England is great,” Nathan said.
“Always, always, she is great and beautiful, I truly miss her. May I offer you something?”
“No thanks,” Nathan replied. He would have liked some water but he reckoned that the other cups in Bushwacker’s collection mightn’t be in any much different condition from the one in the giant’s hand.
“Ok then, when did you arrive on this Godforsaken island and why, if I may ask?”
“My father said to hand this to you,” Nathan said, placing the brown envelope on the table. He’d already decided that there had been enough pleasantries and it was time to get down to business and he wasn’t about to respond to any unnecessary questions. “There is a note inside, my father wants you to read,” he added, pushing the envelope across the table.
“Not the type for chitchats, huh?” Bushwacker said, transferring the cup to his left hand. His right palm came down on the envelope and slowly dragged it across the table. He picked it up, tore the envelope impatiently, and slowly pulled out the notes of money in it; his eyes bulging. Then he licked his fingers and began to count them. After the last note, he looked up at Nathan and picked up the letter. His eyes scanned the few lines on the paper very quickly and the paper returned to the table as a ball.
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