“It will all work out. You’ll see.” I swing my legs onto the deck. “I’m heading in. I promised to meet Tully for tea before dinner.”
“Okay. I’m going to take it easy for a bit longer,” Katherine claims. “And later, when you’re ready, you have to tell me what was in your telegrams. Your face was quite ashen.”
I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Maybe I will. Or maybe I won’t.”
CHAPTER 21
ZINZI
Trench Town, Kingston
My father died from the injuries he sustained while working at the Tynesdale Estate. Every inch of him was a scab, a scar, or a burn. When he passed, my mother couldn’t be consoled. She cried for days, months, years.
Some nights, as I try to fall asleep, the memories of what I have lost are so vivid, so loud, and relentless that I can almost touch the scars on my father’s arms, kiss Marvin’s cold, lifeless lips, or dare River Mumma to pull me under the sea.
I lie in my cot, staring at the ceiling, wishing for the darkness to end and the dawn to rise.
I roll onto my side wearily. Generations of the Maroon people fought for their freedom and survived. I moved through my grief after my father’s death when I met Marvin. A joyful bull of a man, he was eager to raise a family and believed in the power of the silk cotton tree.
Maybe Raymond’s message arrived just in time. Maybe Byron will be able to tell me how much truth there is in his father’s words.
Maybe, as much as I don’t want to, leaving Kingston for a few days to play tour guide for some Americans will give me a chance to clear my mind. Allan said he understood. Whatever Byron says about his father won’t matter. I might as well go and see my mother.
Myrtle Bank Hotel, Kingston
The sunset spreads over Kingston Harbour like a fading rainbow. I sit on the veranda at the Myrtle Bank Hotel, watching Byron as he watches me. “The other day, your father visited Allan’s office.” I pause, waiting for Byron’s reaction, but he shows none. “He said you misled Allan and me about your motives for joining the labor union movement. He claims you’ve been keeping track of me for a while, since shortly after your return to Jamaica several weeks ago.”
“My father believes the only way I could be interested in the labor union has to be about something other than the union.”
“Like a woman?”
He shakes his head, dismissing my supposition. “Did he mention the tax?”
“On the Maroon people for the rum made in the Cockpit? Yes, he brought it up.”
“He’s behind the push by government officials and other plantation owners.”
“That’s not all he had to say.” A chill runs down my spine. “Did you know a fieldworker at Tynesdale Estates named Marvin Banks?”
Byron’s jaw muscles tighten. “He was your fiancé, and yes, I knew him, which I assume my father told you.” He lights a cigarette, his hand shaking slightly. “I met him the season I worked the sugarcane fields at Tynesdale. We were mates.”
“Were you with him the day he died?” I fear I’ll lose controlof my voice but I manage to avoid screaming and keep talking. “Was it your machete that took his life? Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?”
“I—I didn’t know he was your fiancé at first.”
“You’re lying. How could you not know?”
“Because you never said his name when you spoke at the rallies I attended. And he never referred to you by name when he talked about his fiancée.”
“I still don’t believe you,” I say, my voice icy. “If you knew him, you would have known about us. That’s just who he was.”
“The woman he loved he called Mermaid.”
Marvin knew of my love for flowing water and River Mumma. He understood my fear of enclosed spaces. He knew everything there was to know about the girl I was then and the woman I aspired to be. He called me Mermaid, a creature capable of conquering her fears, loving generously, and escaping any prison that might hold her, with the help of water and fins.
Hearing his nickname for me again after so long nearly brings me to my knees.
“Did you know about Marvin and me on the day you saved me from arrest? Was it some misguided attempt to make amends? Tell me—when did you find out that Marvin’s Mermaid and I were the same?”
