by Stina
“We free! Free! Free!”
There it went again. Keston thought he might’ve fallen to sleep and started dreaming, as often happened when he crouched in the corner of his quarters, secretly reading and teaching himself the ways of the world.
“We free! We free!”
The chants came again. This time Keston was sure he wasn’t hearing things. He was definitely awake. Keston listened as the chants continued and increased in volume. They were getting closer. Keston closed his book and got up from his hiding place. He picked up the half-melted candle and used it to light his way.
“We free! We free!”
It was loud and clear now. Keston crumpled his brow and craned his neck to look through the murky window of his shack. He could see them, a group of fellow slaves, huddled together shoulder to shoulder, marching toward the Billet main house.
“What in the . . . ?” Keston huffed, his heart beating faster. He yanked back his wooden plank door and stepped out onto the dirt. The ground under his bare feet was moist; the dew had left a fine layer. The approaching angry mob was causing the earth to rumble. The air was thick with tension. He’d never seen the slaves all together like this unless they were summoned and forced to watch one of their own get punished for a perceived crime. Even then, it didn’t seem like as many as there were now. Keston hadn’t known there were so many slaves. To his surprise, there seemed to be more slaves than the white men who controlled them. Why hadn’t they gotten together like this before? Keston thought. Eyes wide, Keston moved forward on shaky legs to get a better look at the jeering crowd.
“Free! Free! Free!” they called out and moved toward him like a swelling wave at high tide.
Keston stepped forward, his mouth hanging open. He wanted to see where they were going. His heart almost seized in his chest when he noticed Adie, a beautiful woman he’d admired, out in front of the crowd, with her arm locked with that of a slave named Seth. Keston’s eyes hooded over, and his nostrils flared. He’d always known Seth to be a troublemaker. He’d been lashed so many times, it was a wonder he still had skin on his body. There were countless times when Keston thought for sure Seth would die from his injuries.
Seth was always quick to tell a tale. For some reason, Keston was usually his preferred audience. Seth always spoke about how Seth was his slave name and Gerard Pierre was his given name. Seth also spoke of his parents’ days in Haiti and how they were kidnapped at the end of the Haitian Revolution and forced into slavery in America. Seth said he was born on the Billet plantation but a Haitian revolutionary lived inside of him, and he asserted that he was a Pierre, not a Billet. Seth didn’t believed in the Christianity they were all taught on the plantation. He was a part of another religion. His Haitian roots were strong, and they manifested themselves in the voodoo he practiced when the slave owners were asleep. He was always trying to recruit Keston to take part in the midnight rituals, but Keston had decided long ago he didn’t want to be part of Seth’s secret group.
“Free! Free! Free!”
Keston’s heart sank as he watched Adie’s mouth say the word with so much venom that her usually beautiful face appeared marred. The usually quiet, obedient girl had transformed into a fierce revolutionary. Keston had watched Adie from afar as she waited on the Billets hand and foot. She was lucky to be in the house. Adie had pretty hazel eyes and soft caramel skin. When she smiled, every single one of her teeth showed.
Keston would find an excuse to work near the house just to get a glimpse of Adie as she moved about inside or on the huge porch. When they’d lock eyes and hold each other’s gaze, Keston felt things move inside of him that he didn’t know existed. He’d loved Adie from afar for years.
Keston reached out his hand, his lips in position to say her name. Adie turned and saw him. There was something in her eyes. A fire or anger? He shivered, but he could not stop staring at her. A gunshot finally broke Keston’s trance. He threw his hands over his head and shrank down to the ground, something he’d learned to do when the white men sent a warning shot into the air.
Adie and the group stopped moving. They were defiant in their stance. They didn’t run, scream, or quit chanting. They certainly didn’t drop to the ground in submission. There was an empowered energy running through the crowd.
“Free! Free! We free!” they barked out in defiance.
“Now, look here. This here is my land. You can’t take over. Just cus’ they said y’all free, that don’t mean nothin’,” Master Billet shouted, brandishing his rifle as a growing crowd of white men swelled behind him. “Get back to your quarters ’fore someone gets themselves killed.”
“We wants to share in this land. We worked it since we was babies. ’Tis ours jus’ as much as yours,” Seth announced, the veins in his neck cording against his skin. “We want what’s ours, what was built off the backs of our free parents!”
“You niggers ain’t got no rights to no land in this here country,” shouted a fat white man with a grossly protruding gut. He held a silver pistol. “Now, get back to your quarters. Y’all can’t win ’gainst no white men, and you knows it.”
“We already won. We free, and we want this bit of land! We free now!” Adie shouted in response.
The fat white man charged forward and backhanded Adie so hard, her head snapped to the left and blood and spit shot from her lips. “Don’t you sass me, nigger gal. You ain’t nobody free.”
Adie didn’t fall. Instead, she turned her face back to the white man, and with blood leaking from her left nostril, she spat in the white man’s face. The man went to lift his hand to hit her again, and a sea of black men and women behind her charged forward, screaming.
Keston watched in horror as gunshots dropped several of the slaves. White men shrieked as axes were taken to their limbs. Blood spurted from guts and spilled from head wounds. The carnage kept him frozen where he stood. He wanted to run but felt paralyzed by the scene playing out before his eyes. He was trembling while witnessing the chaotic scene. He frantically scanned the tangle of bodies for Adie. The battle was so furious and violent that he was having trouble focusing on anyone. It was a swarm of violence.
Keston looked to his left and saw a white man holding Adie by the throat against a tree, his gun pressed to her head. She was wildly clawing at the man, but her efforts had no effect. The veins in her forehead were bulging, and her face was flushed from lack of oxygen. Without hesitation, Keston took off running. Seeing Adie in distress had finally spurned him into action.
Running at full speed, Keston slammed his fist into the side of the white man’s head. The unexpected blow caused him to release his grip on Adie, and she collapsed at the base of the tree.
“You dirty nigger,” the white man snarled, turning his gun on Keston.
He fired a shot into Keston’s chest, and it sent him flying backward onto the dirt. Keston felt like someone had lit his chest on fire. Keston lay there, stunned and struggling to breathe. The fire in his chest was quickly replaced by a freezing chill throughout his body.
“No! No!” Adie screamed.
“You’re next, you dirty nigger,” the white man hissed.
“No!” Adie screamed again.
She turned her body away from the man to shield herself from the onslaught about to befall her. As the man got closer, Adie spun around, leaped up from the ground, and slammed a huge rock into the man’s skull. The contact left a huge crack across the left side of his head. He fell sideways, his gun skittering out of his hand.
Keston struggled for breath. Adie rushed to his side. Bodies fell all around them. She held on to him, sobbing.
“Save me,” Keston gurgled, blood spilling from his mouth.
The hole in his chest was draining blood quickly, the dark crimson staining his shirt and the dirt surrounding him.
“There’s only one way,” Adie said, lowering her mouth to his neck. Keston screamed out in agony from the pain, and his legs bucked against the dirt. Adie lifted her head and reared her head back,
his blood painting her mouth and chin. Keston’s eyes shot open, stretched to their capacity, and his mouth formed a perfect O. “You will live forever now, as Kesh. You’re one of us now, the Sefu—the sword, the protectors.”
“I thought we were here to party. To feast on the fresh and young,” Vila interjected, snapping Kesh out of his memories.
Kesh was startled and snapped back to the present. He looked around, almost forgetting where he was. Several members of his clan had gathered. They were all abuzz about the big parties they wanted to throw and the beautiful mortals who lived on campus. They all loved the first days of school. It was the beginning of the hunt. The first time they laid eyes on their potential prey. Kesh didn’t stop them, but he didn’t add to the conversation, either. He moved over to a bench and sat on the back of it, distant.
“What is it?” Tiev asked, moving to Kesh’s side. “It can’t just be the noise that’s still bothering you.”
Kesh didn’t know if it was the right time to tell Tiev or his clan about the beautiful, feisty, intelligent girl he’d met earlier. It had shocked Kesh that the girl could deny him. As hard as he’d tried to lure her with his eyes, his smile, and his charm, she’d been able to resist. That was unheard of. Kesh had never met a woman who was able to resist him like that. Usually, all it took was one look into his eyes and he would have them in any way he wanted. Kesh thought about how the girl had been able to fight it with an inner strength he hadn’t witnessed before, a fire he hadn’t seen since before his making. He had seen the struggle happening within her, but still she had prevailed. He was intrigued and stricken by her at the same time.
What is different about this one? Who is she? he thought.
“Hel-lo?” Vila waved her hand in Kesh’s face. She frowned and looked at Tiev with her eyebrows raised. “What is going on with him?”
Tiev shrugged. “I’ve been trying to figure it out.”
“I’m fine,” Kesh lied. “It’s just different being in the very place our ancestors walked. Back on hallowed grounds.”
Vila twisted her lips. She studied Kesh’s face. “I know you better than that. You aren’t just my king. You’re my maker, remember. There’s more to it.”
Kesh shook his head. He’d turned Vila decades ago, and she’d been in love with him ever since. Vila was his most loyal follower, but she was also hardheaded. Vila leaned in to kiss Kesh, but he moved his head, looking past her. His eyes suddenly lit up. Vila followed his line of sight. Kesh moved Vila aside and stood up. He stared ahead. It was her, the beautiful, strong-willed girl from class. She rested against a huge oak tree and read a book.
Tiev and Vila walked up and flanked Kesh on either side. They both stared ahead for a few seconds.
“Who is she?” Vila broke their silence.
Kesh, suddenly embarrassed, shook his head. “Who . . . ? I . . . I don’t know her.”
Vila growled low in her throat and stepped back. She was jealous. Kesh was going to need to keep Vila in line. She always did what he commanded, but Kesh had a bad feeling in his stomach.
“What is it about her?” Tiev asked, jerking his chin forward.
“I don’t know. I want to find out,” Kesh replied barely above a whisper. “I have to know as soon as possible.” There was an urgency in his voice that even Kesh himself hadn’t heard before.
“Vila,” Kesh said, summoning her. Vila rushed back to Kesh’s side. “I want her at the big party. Befriend her. Make sure she’s there,” he instructed.
Vila’s jaw rocked, and she swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “Yes, master,” she grumbled through clenched teeth. She went to walk away, but Kesh grabbed her arm.
“Vila, I have counted every hair on the girl’s head, so I’ll know if you harm even one. Be nice. That’s a direct order,” he said.
Vila snatched her arm away, snorted, and disappeared.
Kesh noticed Tiev’s scathing look. “We’ve already had this conversation, Tiev. Vila can’t be my queen, so stop looking at me that way. She will continue to serve me, and when I find a queen, she will serve her too.”
Chapter 3
Adirah woke in a fit from her sleep. The oversize T-shirt she wore as a nightgown clung to her curves. Her body was covered in sweat. She clutched her chest, feeling her heart racing. She whipped her head around frantically and inhaled deeply. “Oh, my God,” she huffed, touching herself all over. “That dream seemed so real.”
Adirah looked across the room at her roommate. Lina still slept soundly. It was a dream, Adirah told herself. Her room was not filled with spirits, and there was no old woman with long dark hair hovering over her face, trying to snatch her breath.
Adirah tossed her comforter back and threw her legs over the side of her bed. She sat there for a few moments to gather herself. The dream felt too real. Her heart needed some time to begin beating at a normal pace, and her breathing needed to readjust. Fresh air was needed. There was no way she would get back to sleep after that nightmare.
She stood up and shrugged into a hoodie and slipped her feet into a pair of fluffy slippers. Adirah took one last look around the room to make sure no one but Lina was there. Although the room was empty but for Lina, Adirah still shivered before she left it. Back in Brooklyn it was easier for Adirah to ignore the feeling of a presence around her, but for some reason, since she’d arrived at Billet, the feeling was much stronger. It was almost impossible to ignore. She was growing tired of feeling like there was a constant presence around her. Adirah would give anything to be free from this persistent company.
Once outside, Adirah inhaled the night air. She took a seat on the front steps of her dorm and ran her hands over her face and tried to get her thoughts together. Lately, she’d been thinking about her mother and brothers a lot. Maybe that was what the nightmares were about. Adirah wished she could’ve done more before and after Adolphis’s death. She wanted to fight harder for all of them. She closed her eyes.
Brooklyn, New York
January 2008
“Agh!”
Adirah jumped out of her sleep to the sounds of Addis’s screams. She rushed across the room to his bed and scooped him into her arms.
“Shh, Addis. Shhh,” Adirah whispered, comforting. Her baby brother kept screaming. Adirah put her hand over his mouth. “Shh. You’ll upset her. It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.” She forced his head against her chest and rocked him. Adirah worked hard to slow her own rapid breathing. Her head pounded from being snatched out of her sleep.
After a few seconds Addis calmed down and relaxed against Adirah’s chest. She slowed the rocking until she was almost still. Her eyes darted around the darkened room, searching for any signs of the cause of Addis’s discomfort. When Addis fell back to sleep, she gently released him onto the bed and stood up. She took a few steps into the middle of the room.
“Adol, stop coming here. He is just a baby. He doesn’t understand it,” Adirah rasped, folding her arms across her stomach, trembling. She jumped and whirled around when the small jewelry box on her dresser slammed shut by itself.
“Just stop it. It’s not our fault. Leave Mama alone too. We need her,” Adirah whispered harshly, tears racing down her face. “We love you, Adol. We will always love you. But we need to be free. We need to try to move on. We can’t keep being scared. People think she’s crazy, and me too,” Adirah whispered, her words barely audible. “You can’t keep coming here. We didn’t do it. We can’t suffer anymore. We need to be free.”
The jewelry box flew off the dresser. Adirah’s earrings and bracelets were dumped onto the floor. Adirah fell to her knees, sobbing. She’d always been able to feel spirits around her, but knowing her brother’s spirit wasn’t resting easy upset her. “Please, Adol, try to rest in peace,” she whimpered.
Suddenly a breeze whipped over her face, and the sheer curtains at her bedroom window shifted. Adirah sucked in her breath and squeezed herself tighter. Everything went still. Adirah felt a calm sh
e hadn’t felt since the incident.
“I thought I was the only one who hung out on campus in the middle of the night.”
Adirah, startled, was drawn out of her trance at the sound of the familiar voice. Her face immediately folded into a frown, but that didn’t change the pounding of her heart. “So you’re just everywhere, huh?” she grumbled, bunching her toes in the slippers.
“I could say the same thing about you.” Kesh smiled. “May I?” he asked, pointing to the space on the steps next to her.
“It’s a free country,” Adirah replied, looking at the empty spot. She was trying to play hard, but the sexy stranger from class had awakened something inside of her. She’d waved it off the first time, but this time, she acknowledged the knots in her stomach and the tiny sweat beads cropping up under her head scarf.
Kesh sat down next to her. His scent—the same masculine, earthy, wood scent she’d detected in class—wafted up to her nose. Adirah squeezed her knees together. It was all she could do to stop the tingling that had suddenly started in places below her navel.
“I like the solitude of the night. The silence of things that are alive, but dead to the world, is refreshing,” Kesh said, looking up at the dark sky.
Adirah looked over at him, kind of amused. “Not that I asked you,” she said, still trying to play hard. She eased the scowl out of her facial expression. “But I will say, nighttime is usually when I can get my thoughts together. There is serenity in the air, the sky, everywhere. I think I am at my best at night,” she replied, inhaling. “No noise. No people talking to me. No demands. No distractions at all. Just my thoughts, the darkness, and me. I never understood why people are afraid of the dark.”
“That’s funny. I feel the same way. I am definitely my best at night,” Kesh said. “Maybe we have more in common than we let on earlier. That’s a good thing, right?” Kesh reached over and boldly patted her knee.