Later that day as they sat to rest, a good distance from the path of the unrelenting fire, they discussed the next strategy. “We retreat to attack,” Bushwacker said, it sounded more like an order than a suggestion to Nathan.
“What do you mean by that, retreat to what?” Nathan queried.
Bushwacker continued to tend to the piece of cloth that had been used to bandage his calf; he meant to ignore Nathan.
“Mr. Bushwacker, these people could get away. We were very close, I suggest we continue and be over with this chase. My point is …”
“Look! young man.” Bushwacker yelled out, interrupting Nathan and drawing the attention of the slaves who now feared for Nathan’s safety. They knew how badly their boss was wounded and they also knew that the physical wound was not as painful as the emotional hurt he sustained for being on the ground while others were on their feet. He was a man who never admitted that he was one, and anyone who challenged him at a time when he was in a state that revealed his human limitations was asking for something with the same burden as a thunder strike.
“If you are as close to the escapees as you claim, it means I have done a good job, I have brought you this far and this close. Now since you are unhurt, you can continue the chase and ‘be over with it’ very quickly and don’t forget to take your dead slave along,” he snarled through clenched teeth.
“You are yet to…,” Nathan began again but Bushwacker wouldn’t let him finish.
“I will return to my house and remove the beast’s tooth from my calf and when I feel better I will resume the chase if I choose to…”
“Don’t forget you got paid for a complete job...” Nathan braved, interrupting Bushwhacker. Then he became completely lost for the right words to convince the big man to continue the chase. He knew Bushwacker was right; he’d been bitten by some beast and needed some form of medical attention. Besides they had lost two men, it was too much for anyone to process in less than twenty-four hours. But he was also scared and very worried that while they were ‘retreating to attack’ as Bushwacker suggested, Ashana and her male counterpart would be gaining more ground.
“Tell your father to come get his change. Now you’d better stop talking or I’ll shoot you in the mouth,” Bushwhacker threatened, staring Nathan straight in the eyes.
“First you’d have to find the trigger and keep your finger from jumping off,” Nathan said sarcastically.
Chapter Thirty-two
W
hen Mr. Longstands heard the soft rap on his door and the “Massa! Massa!” whisper, he knew Edwards had something to report, but he wasn’t in the mood.
“Edwards!” he called out from his bed.
“Massa!” he answered like one who was almost breathless.
“What is it?”
“Massa, ehm, ehm, Massa,” Edwards stammered.
Longstands’s realized Edwards didn’t want to say whatever he had to share out loud and so he opened the door; a very scared face with a network of agitated veins and wrinkles was staring at him.
“Massa, Nathan here, Nathan not well…”
Longstands was already on his way to his son's room by the time Edwards finished.
“Nathan!” Longstands called out, knocking gently on his son's door. Something must have gone wrong; whatever it was that caused his son to abandon the chase and lock himself up in his room was something he was seriously interested in finding out. “Son, please open the door,” he said and was about to knock a second time when the door swung open.
Nathan walked past his father and headed to the balcony. His father followed, careful to keep his excitement concealed; Nathan’s behaviour gave him reason to believe that the mission to capture the slaves had failed. Ashana and her male counterpart had either escaped or had been disposed of.
“You've got to tell me what is going on Nathan,” he continued, still walking behind his son, faking deep concern and anxiety. “Did you catch them? Where are they? What happened? Talk to me Nathan.”
“Father! Stop! They are still on the run, we...”
“What?” interrupted Longstands, his voice echoing through the house–it was when Edwards came running in that he realized how loud he had been.
“I didn’t call you, Edwards. Go back!”
“I am sorry, Nathan, please continue.” Longstands wanted to get the whole story before Suzanne joined in.
“Father, you would not believe what happened.”
“What? Why? Go ahead, try me,” Longstands urged, beads of perspiration suddenly appearing on his brow.
The sun had started its dip by the time Mrs Longstands joined her husband and their son in the balcony; Nathan was done telling his father about the dog attack when she arrived. “Your father called me a fat snoring pig today, Nathan,” she said carelessly. She didn't mind that she had just interrupted the conversation between the two men or mind the looks the two were giving her; she didn’t care and offered no apologies.
“How about welcome son, how was your trip, are you OK?” Nathan queried, his voice saturated with disdain.
“I had no part in your adventure into the stupid jungles of this cursed island, looking for some dumb slaves, so I would have no part in welcoming you from such a journey, Nathan...”
“You know Mother; I can’t help but wonder if you have something to do with this whole escape episode…”
“Oh yes I do, can’t you see, I was beginning to wonder how long it would take you to realize it. I planned it and orchestrated it and it’s successful, I assume you have failed once again,” she mocked.
“Don’t...Mother,” Nathan said shaking his head slowly.
“Don’t what? Don’t what and or else what? Tell me Nathan, you ungrateful child, it won’t be wrong to assume you are not done chasing after a slave whore....” she said interrupting the young man happily.
“Stop! both of you, Nathan, she is your mother, show some respect.”
“Father, respect is reciprocal; she’s got no idea how to give it, why should she receive it or think that she is entitled to receive it?”
“Never mind that, she is your mother and Suzanne, for heaven's sake, stop being insensitive.”
“I am out of here,” Nathan announced and walked off.
Chapter Thirty-three
T
heir barely covered bodies were the least of their problems as they stared into the eyes of the strange man that was standing over them. He was a slave like them, a little shorter than Jonah but much older. His hair as dusty as were his feet, eyelashes and eyebrows; his mouth had been moving for a while without any sound reaching Jonah and Ashana’s ears. He was saying something but their minds were preoccupied with the meaning of the moment.
Was it the end for them? Ashana’s mind queried, after all the running and suffering, would they be dragged back to the Fort like thieves and made to beg for death? Her eyes swelled with tears and Jonah’s heart cracked in a million places.
Jonah’s eyes slowly and cautiously detached themselves from the face of the stranger and rested briefly on Ashana; she had begun to sob audibly. The middle-aged man took a step towards Ashana causing Jonah to spring to his feet with a piece of stick in his hand. The stranger froze, gave Jonah a warning look, and returned his attention to Ashana.
Jonah braced for trouble; he wasn’t going to let the stranger get any closer to Ashana; he knew there was the possibility that the stranger had company hiding somewhere in the bushes but if he dared to touch Ashana then he’d be dead before the rest of his group arrived to help him. After all, it looked like it was the end of the road for him and between returning to the Fort and dying in the bush, he preferred the latter.
“I am here to help you...both, so stop crying my little girl,” the stranger said very gently to Ashana.
“What?” Jonah exclaimed, he couldn’t believe his ears, “Who are you?”
The stranger ignored Jonah, his eyes still resting on Ashana, who was using the opportunity created by the mild commotion ca
used by the stranger’s announcement to properly cover up her nakedness.
“Who sent you?” Jonah asked.
“My name is Nandia,” he began, reluctantly turning his attention to Jonah in a way that said, ‘Now I am ready to talk to you.’
“Nandia,” Jonah repeated mulling the name in his mind; it didn’t ring a bell. He turned to Ashana who had just finished going through the same process and their eyes met. She too hadn’t heard of that name, he could tell from the blankness in her eyes.
“Your Massa sent an urgent message to the Massas of the various plantations around here to look out for the two of you and my Massa has offered a reward for anyone that brought you in,” Nandia added and went quiet.
The couple waited anxiously for him to resume and finish his statement, they wanted to know what he planned to do now that he had them. Jonah’s heart began to beat without a rhythm; his right palm folded into a fist and shook slowly.
“However, yesterday I got the message that you were on the run and needed assistance to your destination,” Nandia continued, after a period of silence that seemed like forever to the two.
“From where or whom did you get this message?” Jonah queried, fear mixed with anxiety floating in his eyes.
“The birds with the stones, I found them.”
“So what would you do, take us in for the reward or assist us?” Ashana asked, finally able to conjure up enough courage to open her fear-sealed lips.
“Like I said before I am here to help. I will not betray my own, not for all the stars in the sky,” Nandia said to Ashana, smiling sweetly.
Jonah knew who sent the birds; “PaNene,” he whispered to himself,
“Even though I received the message from the birds earlier, I couldn’t leave yesterday in search for you. But last night, a message came that your pursuers were attacked by a wild dog that killed two of the men and injured the famous slave-hunter. And an urgent message was sent out to all plantations to look out for you with a reward for anyone that found you. That is why I chose to come out early this morning before a bigger search begins and thanks to our fathers, I found you without looking too far.”
It was too much for Jonah to take in at a once; he was overwhelmed by the news of Tora’s loyalty and subsequent death but the fact that Bushwacker, the infamous slave hunter was on their tail was very disheartening.
“What...em, where do we go from here?” Ashana stammered, recovering before Jonah.
“I brought you some water and food,” Nandia said, handing Ashana a makeshift bag full of supplies.
“By tomorrow night, the moon shall be full, the boat will arrive at the Dublanc River, and if you are there, you will get a ride to the land of the free slaves…”
“Which way?” interrupted Jonah, suddenly coming alive.
“That way,” Nandia replied, pointing somewhere behind the two. “The road behind me leads to Morne Diablotains, the self-freed slaves’ community up on the mountain; I would suggest you head there. I don’t think you can get to the Dublanc River quick enough. Besides, there are a few plantations that you’d need to cross to get there and the people in those plantations are already looking out for you.”
“Come with us,” Ashana begged.
“Yes why not come, don’t you want to leave?” Jonah asked, urging the stranger and hoping to convince him. He and Ashana could do with some company.
“My son and his mother are on the other plantation, I get to see them every so often and that is why I cannot leave. Now you must go, I must return before my absence is noticed or else I will be in trouble, may the good gods of our ancestors be with you both.” With that, they hugged the man and he turned around and disappeared into the bushes.
All through Nathan's long narration of their horrible experience the day before, Longstands’s mind was struggling with what his next move should be; a temporary suspension of the search was a good thing. If he had a good enough excuse to keep the search suspended for a few more days, he’d have given the slaves a good chance to escape and would have avoided blood on his hands. Things seemed to be working in his favour and Longstands rejoiced inwardly.
As for Bushwacker, Longstands had no doubt that the fallen giant was incapable of embarking on another search for another day or two at the very least, considering the extent of his injuries and loss. That meant a day or two’s advantage for the slaves; It looks like I’ll be winning this battle after all, Longstands thought. The best option would be to simply sit tight and do nothing and if Nathan asked, he’d just tell the young man he was still waiting for word from Bushwacker.
Little did Mr. Longstands know that his son hadn’t slept all night. He too had everything figured out; Nathan knew that Bushwacker wouldn’t be back on his feet anytime soon and that his father couldn’t do anything about that. He also knew that his father wouldn’t mind Bushwacker remaining sick for as long as possible, thus giving the slaves more time to escape.
So after the commotion with the wild dog was over and Bushwacker had returned to his hut, Nathan rode to the nearby plantation and spoke with the owner. “My father asked me to beg you to keep an eye out and instruct your slaves as well, to look out for the escaping slaves. There is a reward for anyone who finds the two…”
“Oh no,” Mr Inglewood interrupted. “I don’t need any kind of compensation to do anything for your father. Not to worry, I will keep my slaves on the lookout and if the runaways come this way we will surely apprehend them.”
“Many thanks, Mr Inglewood,” Nathan said, enduring a second round of bumpy handshake from Inglewood. The man was about five feet and six or eight inches tall, he was slim—almost skinny but his handshake was very powerful; nothing that you’d have expected judging from his frame.
“Send my regards to your father.”
“Will do.” Nathan replied and mounted his horse, giving the man a second look of appraisal.
Before Nathan returned to the Fort he had visited three other plantations with the same story and all three owners had pledged to assist him but that was just the first phase of his overall plan.
It wasn’t easy initiating a conversation with Bushwacker, he was still nursing his wounds and trying to recover from his first failure as well as from Nathan's ungrateful remarks, which had left prints on his ego. Nathan wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he’d have to do a great deal of work renovating the somewhat broken relationship between them before carefully introducing his request; especially as he was already running low on money and couldn’t afford Bushwacker's fee.
“I apologize for my insensitivity out in the bush, you did a great job and I am sorry about the loss of one of your men,” Nathan began not sure how much impact he’d be able to make on Bushwacker. The big man simply nodded and continued to listen. “If it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t have been able to get as far and as close to the escaping slaves as we did and if it wasn’t for the mad beast I am quite sure we would have had them by now, under your leadership of course…”
“What do you want from me young man, don’t try to patronize me, I am already aware of everything you are telling me so get to the point, what do you want?” Bushwacker said without looking up at Nathan
“I need your help,” Nathan said.
“What kind of help?” Bushwacker asked giving Nathan a suspicious look.
“I need your help to get the slaves and you don’t have to come along, just get me people who know the bushes half as well as you do,”
“Half as well as I do?” Bushwacker repeated, smiling with pride.
Nathan nodded.
“Why are you so obsessed with this chase anyway? You seem more interested in catching the slaves than your father.”
“It’s a long story but I’ll share it with you if you promise to help me.” Nathan was desperate.
“Let’s hear it but I must warn you, even if the story is great and I agree to help you, it will cost you.”
“No worries, I just need you to help me,” Nathan replied and b
egan talking.
“Holy Mary, mother of God!” Bushwacker exclaimed, jumping to his feet as Nathan concluded his story. “You think your parents had a hand in helping the slaves escape?”
“I don’t want to believe it but it’s a possibility and I am beginning to give it more thought.”
“I believe it,” Bushwacker said nodding continuously. He was convinced Nathan’s parents had everything set up–they let the slaves escape and then sent him on a goose chase to make it look authentic. “All of this is a setup,” he added, feeling insulted by Longstands. What if Longstands was the one who released the crazy dog on them, he wondered; a crazy dog that took the life of one of his best men and injured him. “Your father is a mad man!”
“What?” Nathan was shocked; he’d never heard anyone disrespect his father before.
“Yes, he is a mad man,” Bushwacker repeated angrily, sliding a brown envelope across the table to Nathan. “Read that while I get ready,” he added and limped to the back.
Nathan stared at the big man in shock until he disappeared around the back of the house then returned his attention to the brown envelope in front of him. It looked like the same brown envelope he’d given Bushwacker the previous day. What’s come over Bushwacker? he wondered, retrieving a note from the envelope.
“Now what do you think about your papa?” Bushwacker asked mockingly. Nathan was pacing back and forth, his eyes red and his body shaking with anger.
“How did you get it?” he asked; his head still bowed.
“Edwards.”
“I need to return home,” Nathan added.
“No, that is a terrible mistake. Now we must go after the slaves. We’ll find them and then you can confront your father, but first we must find your girl,” Bushwacker advised. He appeared dressed for a battle with a bandage around his calf and five men standing behind him. “These men cost twenty bucks a head. Me, I’ll do it for free, now let’s get going.”
Nathan nodded and wiped his eyes. It was hard to believe that his father had secretly instructed Bushwacker to murder Ashana while pretending to be doing everything he could to find her. “I can’t believe it!”
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