I pick up flower buds and leaves, no longer pretending to know what I’m doing. I’ve learned quite a bit about botany and collecting samples. I stop digging in the dirt and glance at Robbie.
“Can we just talk about plants, limestone, or sinkholes?” I hope to distract him, but it feels wrong. “I’m sorry. I will tell you everything, but just not today. Is that okay?”
He frowns, but a smile emerges—then a lightning bolt streaks across the sky, thunder roaring behind right after.
“Robbie,” I call out, scared nearly out of my skin.
He carefully places his basket on the ground. “Don’t worry. We’ll head back now.” He holds my hands. “You’re okay. Don’t look so frightened.”
I can’t help it. I believe the lightning and thunder have scared me into telling the truth, or it’s a sign from one of Momma Hazel’s ancestors, telling me to stop hiding the truth from people I care about. “Chicago has followed me to Jamaica.” I squeeze his hand.
“Who’s here from Chicago?” he asks.
“Before Jerry fell overboard, he told me something I probably should have shared with you a long time ago, but I didn’t. So, I didn’t lie—I just never mentioned it. So, I haven’t betrayed our pinky swear pledge—I just didn’t know how to say it.”
He clears a spot on the ground for us to sit. He doesn’t appear concerned about the darkening sky, the lightning, or the crackling thunder. His attention is solely on me.
“Go on. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s Tony Schaefer. He’s in Kingston. He’s trying to hurt Zinzi, and Byron, and Accompong. He’s telling them he’s helping them fight against Byron’s father while saving the labor union movement and Accompong. But Robbie, he’s lying. He just wants to make as much money as he can and after that, he’ll come after me. You see, I did something—I don’t even know what—that made him so mad, all he can think about is getting even.”
“Keep going,” Robbie says encouragingly. “Tell me everything.”
“He’s not going to leave us alone. I just know it. He’s gonna keep causing trouble. He can’t help himself.”
CHAPTER 40
VIVIAN JEAN
Tynesdale Estate, St. Elizabeth Parish, Week Nine
When we received Bernard Tynesdale’s invitation to join him for supper, Momma Hazel made a symbol with her thumb and forefinger and spat on the ground. I looked at Zinzi but received no sign that she understood why her mother had reacted in such a way. Or, if she did know, Zinzi kept it to herself.
Two days later, we pull up to the Tynesdale house in the cars he sent for the Dunham expedition.
It’s an impressive home—a two-story stone building covered in white stucco, with an expansive wraparound veranda, large, shuttered windows, and stone columns. The sheer size makes me a bit envious.
“Are you okay, Vivian Jean?” Tully asks as we pass through the archway into a lobby as spacious as the one in Mr. Abbott’s mansion.
He’s been very attentive since the letter from Maxi. “I’m fine,” I reply. “It’s a plantation, isn’t it? Probably hasn’t changed much since slavery. I’ve never seen one in the flesh.”
Just then, a dark-skinned man in a white jacket and well-pressed black pants approaches us.
“Welcome,” he says. “Please follow me this way.” He leads us down a grand hallway adorned with a series of paintings on the walls. The women in the portraits wear long, old-fashioned gowns embellished with lace and jewelry, while the old men sport high-collared suits and neckbeards.
We pause, and as I wait outside the dining hall, I hold my breath and finally understand what Momma Hazel meant when she spat after learning about the invitation. She may not know my father, but she sensed trouble.
Major Leonard Thomas stands with three others to welcome the Katherine Dunham expedition—the claimed reason for our invitation to Tynesdale Estates.
“Is that your father?” Katherine asks, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Tully exhales. “Yes, that’s him.”
Seeing my father for the first time since Maggotty and Maxi’s letter makes my stomach turn. “Tully, can we go?”
My husband moves close to me, his body protecting me in case my father does something unexpected. Or I do. “We can’t leave.” He touches my waist. “Byron’s father invited us to honor Katherine’s fieldwork in Accompong and we can’t abandon her.”
“I don’t believe the expedition is why we’re here,” I whisper, just before the major embraces me.
