Malik pointed at the space around them. Bouki turned.
It looked like any other cave at first, but as Corinne’s eyes adjusted to the low light, she saw drawings on the walls in red mud and black and white clay. The entire cave was filled with them. There were pictures of people walking, planting, and hunting the small animals of the island.
“Is that an agouti?” Dru asked.
“If it is, it’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen,” Corinne said. “And there’s a caiman here.” She pointed at a painting of a long, low creature with a man standing near it, about to thrust a spear into its body.
Malik pulled Bouki to his feet and brought him to another part of the cave. Jumping, he jabbed his finger at one of the drawings. It didn’t look like the others. Like a child’s scrawl in the sand, it was a big round head with three other heads circling it. Each had two dots inside them, like eyes, only the eyes were lopsided and smeared.
“I remember this,” Bouki said.
“How?” Corinne asked.
“We’ve been here before.”
“When?” Dru asked. “Malik found it by accident.”
Bouki’s eyes glazed as if he was seeing a memory play out in the dark cave.
“What is this place?” Corinne asked.
“We played here,” Bouki said. “When we were little.”
Corinne looked at small Malik, wondering how long ago that was and how much littler he could have been then. “When you were on your own?” she asked.
Bouki squeezed his eyes shut. His shoulders slumped, and his forehead knitted.
Malik walked around the cave, touching the walls lightly with his fingertips. Corinne could usually read him, but right now she couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all.
When Bouki opened his eyes again, they were watery and red. “We weren’t alone,” he said. “Not then.”
“Who was with you?” Dru asked.
Bouki shook his head and sniffled, then pushed his shoulders back. “We can’t stay here,” he said loudly. “We have to find a way out.” He looked to Malik, who was beckoning them with one hand as he looked at another spot on the cave wall.
They went to him and found another drawing with four circles, this time two on the top and two on the bottom. The top ones had dot eyes and the bottom ones were empty.
Bouki took his brother’s hand a little roughly and pulled him. “This way,” he said.
“How are you so sure of the way?” Dru asked.
Corinne caught Dru’s eye and shook her head just enough that Dru alone would see it.
Dru bit her lip and followed in silence.
Bouki led them through a series of dark passageways. He moved quickly, as if he knew the space by heart. Malik continued to trace his fingers against the walls, but he did not remove his other hand from his brother’s. Corinne and Dru sometimes had to run to keep up with the boys. Every now and then they would look at each other. Corinne read worry in Dru’s face, and she wondered if Dru saw the same in hers.
After a few minutes, the path widened and light filtered from above. The sound of the howling rain seemed distant, but the thunder continued to rage, sending shivers through the mountain that loosened dust and an occasional rock. It was like being in the belly of a monster just waking up. Dru and Corinne squeezed closer together every time a new rumble shook another bit of the mountain loose around them.
They turned a corner to a cave that opened like a mouth to the outside. Bouki let go of Malik’s hand and held up his palm. Everyone stopped and waited. He moved to the opening and looked out, then came back to them, wet and dripping. He shook his head and led them back to the path.
Farther up there was a fork. One way led down, and the other up. Bouki moved toward the right path, which led down, but Malik grabbed him and pointed to the left.
“I don’t think so, brother,” Bouki said.
But Malik refused to go to the right. He stood rigid at the entrance to the left path, with his arms folded and his eyes pleading.
“What would it hurt to go this way?” Corinne asked. “We can always double back if we need to.”
Bouki took a deep, jagged breath and followed his brother.
“What if we get lost in here?” Dru whispered. “What if we spend the rest of our lives wandering around a dark, damp cave filled with muddy drawings?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Corinne said.
“How do you know?”
Corinne whispered, “Because I think they know exactly where they are.”
The path rose steeply, so they had to use their hands for balance as they scrambled up. Pressure built in Corinne’s ears and her head felt like it was filled with cotton. She swallowed hard until her ears popped. As they kept climbing, it happened over and over again. Every time, she had to stop to clear her head.
Gradually the air became cooler and less damp. Corinne felt glad for the comfort, but she also knew that with every step she was much farther from her papa. He would never be able to find her now.
“Where are we?” she asked. “How long until we reach . . . wherever you’re taking us?” There was no response from the boys.
The path leveled off and opened up to a large cave. The light was still dim outside, but the rain wasn’t falling as hard as before. The children ventured to the mouth of the cave and looked out. The whole island was laid out beneath them in muted green behind a haze of gray clouds and sheets of rain.
“Are we in the clouds?” Dru asked.
Malik smiled and nodded.
Corinne scanned the sky for the face she had seen earlier. She still wondered if it had been a trick of her mind, despite the boys’ stories of the god Huracan. Surely gods didn’t show themselves.
“We’re nearly there,” Bouki announced.
“Where?” Dru asked.
Bouki pointed to a path that led away from the cave up a series of stone steps.
“What about mudslides?” Corinne asked, peering over the lip of the cave to the sharp drop that led to the bottom of the mountain.
“The path is clear,” he said. “Come on.” His voice was small and tight. Whatever was at the top of those stairs made him nervous.
Corinne’s heart beat hard against the bones of her chest. She hesitated, but knew that there was no choice but to keep going.
Bouki led them up. Near the top, he paused, stood on one foot, then hopped over one step before continuing. Behind him, Malik did the same thing, then turned back to grin at the girls.
“Careful of that one,” Bouki said. “It’s a little rickety.”
Dru and Corinne shared a confused look, and Corinne folded her lips between her teeth. They moved forward, avoiding the stair as instructed.
At the top, there was a smooth, winding path of rocks. The mist was so thick that it was difficult to see what lay beyond it. Corinne felt its chill settle on her skin, closing in as if something large and formless had dropped a cloak around her. She wanted to get off the mountain, but she didn’t know the way back down.
Malik moved forward and disappeared into the soft gray mist with Bouki right behind him. But while Malik skipped ahead, Bouki’s steps were slower and his body sagged, as if moving forward was an effort. Corinne wondered if he was feeling the chill too, or if it was something else entirely. She went to Bouki’s side. Dru took the other side and together they followed Malik into the cold cloud.
They kept walking until the mist cleared and they could see a wide plateau at the end of the path. Beyond that was a single large doorway cut into the face of the mountain.
Bouki stopped, and he, Dru, and Corinne waited as if they expected something to come out of the doorway any moment. Only Malik and the clouds continued to move. Wisps of gray and white slipped around each other until Corinne was sure she saw a face, but a moment later the wisps had changed into nothing
at all. The clouds continued shifting around her, teasing her with nearly formed faces that quickly turned into other shapes. Their mist traced Corinne’s skin and raised her pores.
Bouki moved forward, walking through a patch of grass in front of the door. His breathing was deep, but uneven, as if he couldn’t quite catch his breath.
When they reached the middle of the grassy area, a woman stepped out of the dark arch. She was wide, wearing a long dress of red patterned cloth that wrapped around her chest and a colorful head tie done up with a twist around the crown. She wiped her hands with a towel. Her bare feet slapped the stones outside the doorway and mashed the low grass as she walked toward them.
With one hand, Corinne grasped at her neck, searching for her mama’s necklace, as she reached for Dru’s fingers with the other.
“Don’t be frightened,” the woman said. She paused, still a little distance away, and cocked her head, studying Bouki and Malik. In a moment, her pleasant, welcoming face crumpled and her bottom lip quivered. “Oh, mes petits,” she said to the boys. “You’ve come back at last.”
13
Dodo Piti Popo
“Look, everyone! Come and see!” the woman called out.
A few faces peered from the shadows of the mountain doorway. Each of them was the same reddish brown as the boys’ own faces. Some were topped with the same corkscrew-curly hair, and others had hair as pin straight as Dru’s. All of them had wide smiles and dark eyes. They looked like a family.
“Look at you! So big now.” The woman walked slowly toward the boys, as if they were a pair of wild animals that might try to run. She kept her eyes on them, and her hands at her sides. Malik pushed his shoulders back and waited, unmoving as she approached, but Bouki pulled him back, placing his own body like a shield between his brother and the woman.
She stopped. “You are Bouki and Malik, not so?”
Malik peeked around Bouki.
“We know what our names are,” Bouki said.
“How do you know what their names are?” Dru asked.
“They are ours,” the woman said. She took another small step toward Bouki. “I’m your aunty Lu.”
Bouki shook his head. “We don’t know you.”
Malik turned a frown on his brother.
“We don’t,” Bouki said to Malik.
“Don’t worry,” Aunty Lu said. “We are just surprised and happy to see you.”
A few more people moved out onto the plateau. The women wore bright patterned dresses with their hair in a single thick plait wrapped around their heads or long down their backs. Some had shawls draped over their shoulders. The men wore long pants and embroidered shirts. All of them had skin that gleamed bronze, as if they were lit by the early rays of sunset.
The warmth of this smiling, silent group of people drove the chill from Corinne’s body.
“You are Ava and Diego’s sons,” Aunty Lu said, wiping tears from her eyes. More people crowded in behind her. “And you have been gone a very, very long time.
“Come,” she went on. “The rain will thicken again soon, and this is no place to be in a storm.”
“It doesn’t look like it was too bad up here,” Corinne said.
“It rarely is,” Aunty Lu said, pointing toward the stone doorway. “But yesterday a storm, today a storm, who knows what is really going on?” A bolt of lightning lit up her face as she stared out. Her body stiffened at the flash. She got behind the four of them and pushed them gently toward the great stone door. “Quickly!”
The mountain arch led to a short passageway. On the other side was a small village of round, thatched-roof structures. The wooden houses were clustered together, connected with a network of hammocks. Nestled among them were banana trees. To one side was a neatly planted area of vegetables and herbs about the same size as the land the houses occupied. Tall stalks of corn waved over smaller plants like pak choi and bodi. The mountain surrounded the village like a pair of cupped hands.
Aunty Lu led the children to a large central building. Like the others, it was round. It had windows in each wall panel, and four doors, one in each cardinal direction. Inside, the contents of a huge black pot boiled on the fire. The scent made Corinne’s stomach growl. The woman stirring the pot watched curiously with a slightly furrowed forehead.
“I’m sure you must be hungry,” Aunty Lu said. “It’s a long way from the valley.” She ushered them to a low table with benches near the woman who was cooking. The pot was filled with vegetables: potatoes, carrots, yams, pumpkin. A dasheen bush lay on a table behind Aunty Lu, along with the rinds of squeezed lemons and the remnants of a few chopped herbs. A salty, earthy scent rose up into the air.
The heat of the fire gave Corinne immediate relief from the cold. Malik stuck his feet out as close to the fire as he could and wriggled his toes. Corinne and Dru kicked off their sandals and followed suit. In moments they would be warm and dry.
Malik looked perfectly comfortable, but Bouki sat at the very edge of the bench, ready to spring up any moment.
Aunty Lu moved over to the woman at the pot. They leaned their heads together talking.
“Do you think she is telling the truth?” Corinne asked.
Bouki shrugged. His fists were tight on his legs as if he was holding on to something that was precious and slippery.
“Do you remember Ava and Diego?” Corinne asked again.
Malik shrugged.
“You resemble them,” Dru said. “Maybe they really are your family.”
“Then where have they been all this time?” Bouki hissed.
Aunty Lu came to them with a platter that held four neatly folded dark green leaves with something steaming inside each one. They smelled spicy and meaty. Aunty Lu put the platter on the table and smiled. “Eat.”
Malik dug in immediately, untying the vine around his bundle, then unfolding the leaf carefully. A puff of steam rose from it and flavored the air with peppers, raisins, and beef. Inside the leaf was a lump of yellow dough that looked about to burst open with food. Corinne’s stomach growled again, more loudly this time, and all eyes turned to her.
“Pastelles,” Aunty Lu explained. She rested a hand on Corinne’s shoulder. “Eat before this one swallows up the rest of you!”
Malik was already biting into his own pastelle as Corinne and Dru were unwrapping theirs. As soon as she bit in, Corinne’s mouth watered even more. The yellow corn-flour dough on the outside melted on her tongue while the ground meat filling danced flavor around her mouth.
Malik gave Aunty Lu a slight nod of thanks as he polished off his pastelle. Bouki had not moved. His pastelle remained on the platter, steaming. Aunty Lu uncovered a bowl of water and approached Bouki with it and a fresh piece of white linen. She touched his shoulder gently where he had been cut by the rock. Bouki leaned slightly away, but didn’t flinch. She carefully untied the piece of shirt that had bound the wound, and used the water to clean it off. Then she rewrapped it with the linen.
“Thanks,” he said gruffly.
Aunty Lu smiled and backed away slowly, as if she was still afraid he might bolt.
Corinne looked at Bouki’s uneaten pastelle. “If you’re not going to eat it . . .” she said, making a big show of reaching for it.
“You can have it if you want. I’m not hungry.” Bouki turned away.
“It’s not me you’re hurting if you don’t eat,” Aunty Lu said. She placed cups in front of each of them, and poured steaming milk from a small pitcher.
Malik reached for his cup immediately and nearly dropped it.
“Sorry, baby, it’s still too hot. But I will cool it for you.” Aunty Lu took Malik’s milk and poured it into another cup, then again into the first one, going back and forth. Her hands seesawed in the air, and the milk made long, splashing arcs. She handed one of the cups back to Malik, who downed the milk in almost one gulp.<
br />
“You always did like to cool your milk a little before you drank it, petit,” she said quietly. Aunty Lu cooled all of the milk the same way, handing off each one. She left Bouki for last. He sat stiffly, looking out the window at the clouds knotting and unknotting around the village. In every lightning flash a new picture formed, always moving, always different, like a series of faces observing them from every angle.
Dru leaned close to Bouki. “The storm is getting bad again. How safe are the caves?”
“Everyone will be fine,” Bouki said.
“Who is in the caves?” Aunty Lu asked.
“Our families,” Corinne said. She swallowed hard, remembering the look on her papa’s face when she jumped away from him. “When the storm started, Bouki and Malik led everyone to the mountains for safety.”
Aunty Lu beamed. “What brave, smart boys!” She clapped Malik on the back, nodding vigorously. “They were right to lead people here. They will be safe until the storm passes.
“You will be safe here in the village, too,” she said, looking from Corinne to Dru. “There is no way back down tonight, you hear me?”
Dru bit her lip, and Corinne nodded.
Corinne cleared her throat. “You said that this wasn’t a regular storm . . . Aunty . . . Lu,” she began. “Bouki told us about a god—”
“Huracan,” Aunty Lu finished. “You remember that story?” She turned a great smile on the boys. Malik beamed back, but Bouki scowled and looked away. “Yes. Huracan controls the storms. Even the air and the sea answer when he cries out.”
Corinne thought about Mama D’Leau in the water and understood the jumbie’s fear now.
“Why is he here now?” Corinne asked.
Aunty Lu raised an eyebrow. “Who could say? We can only hope that whatever it is that made him this angry will get fixed soon, and we will all survive until it does.”
A cold, wet wind blew the frayed edges of the thatched roofs like strands of hair.
The Jumbie God's Revenge Page 6