I winced.
She broke out both.
She eyed me first, then silently slid a can over to me. She poured a generous amount of palm oil in her cup then pushed the bottle to me too. She might have been angry with me, but she wouldn’t let me starve.
We ate and drank like humans, even liked their food—maybe I liked food more than Nana because I was only half, my father being human. But their food could not nourish us enough to keep the thirst down. If it couldn’t be blood, then adze could consume these. She didn’t know why. I figured they were just the rules of being an adze. Nana said otherwise.
“It is by the grace of Nyame that I discovered these items could provide sustenance,” she had said. “At least, he gave us that.”
That was the only time I’d seen a flash of contempt when she spoke of the Sky God, and never again.
She drank the coconut water first, then the palm oil before her eyes began to lighten to their normal shade. The sting of guilt reared its ugly head again. She was supposed to have had a little taste tonight when she stepped out. I had ruined all of that.
Growing up, there had always been black holes of information about Nana Ama, areas that she would gloss over or flat-out refuse to discuss. I became used to those areas. If there was one thing I respected, it was giving someone the opportunity to have their private thoughts.
I sensed it was something beyond once being enslaved or the hardships the founding families faced growing and rebuilding their lives on the Isle. It was even deeper than the death of my mother, though my mother was one of the voids Nana Ama and I didn’t really talk about.
I figured when the time was right, my grandmother would tell me whatever had been haunting her. Until then, I would be patient.
But now, when I reached the house and saw her there, movingaround the kitchen as if it were a regular night and not one where she was about to okay someone’s death, I couldn’t let it go. Not after all that happened back at the Gathering Tree. I needed to know who Nana Ama was forced to leave behind.
“Nana Ama, I know you don’t trust mainlanders. I know you’ve been traumatized by what you’ve been through when you were—back at the plantation.” She had her back to me, and it stiffened when I mentioned the plantation. I plowed on, thinking this would be my only chance to get her to open up. “I get all that. I even understand and have supported keeping us secluded on the island. Being strict about who gets to live here, who gets to become one of our Kinfolk. But no one’s coming here to drag you, or any of us, back. That’s not how the world is anymore.” I thought about the precious minutes I was wasting, but feeling I couldn’t just go off without at least trying.
“You have jeopardized everyone who lives here, all our Kin, for someone you barely know,” she said. “And to top it off, she has seen you. No one is supposed to see you like that. Your true adze state is when you are most vulnerable. Any information about you makes you vulnerable. You know how this world is.”
“Yes, Nana.” Better not to anger her more. I needed to play it cool and show her nothing that would raise her suspicions.
I dropped my head. “I’m sorry.” I meant it. I was sorry. Sorry for everything I did and everything I was about to do. I hoped she would understand me even when she realized her cuffs were gone. “I made a huge mistake in bringing Hailey here.”
“Speak what you need, child,” she said, reading my hesitation correctly.
I debated if this was the right moment. But my question had been burning all night.
“Speak.”
“Would you really have gone through with it?”
She waited for the rest.
“Would you have killed Hailey? Will you kill her?” I corrected so she wouldn’t get suspicious. I hoped Sekou was finding more success than everyone else. It was easier to track solo than in large groups where noise and distraction made it more difficult. “When you find her?”
Nana considered me for a long while. Finally, she said, “I will always do what I must. It’s what has kept us alive for all these years.”
I chanced another. “And the woman? Who is she? She’s an adze? But not like you.”
“She is what you should never hope to be.”
I’d left her in the kitchen knowing what I had to do. I’d known it the moment the woman broke through my defenses and spoke to me. When I heard the lanai door close behind Nana Ama as she took her seat in her chair, with her hot tea, and waited for James to tell her Hailey was found, I went to her bedroom. I felt a cyclone of emotion at what I was about to do, but I couldn’t back down from it. I needed those cuffs. I was going to have to fight fire with fire, especially if the woman’s amulet held any of the same kind of power as Nana Ama’s cuffs.
I made my way to Nana Ama’s dresser and to the top drawer where she kept them. The box was there and closed. I opened it, revealing the shining jewelry that lit up the room. I took them from the box, wrapping them in the towel I’d brought, and shoved them in the open backpack at my feet. Nana would know the moment the cuffs left the island. Probably the moment they left the house. I had to move fast and hope it was good enough to get us off the island, where we’d have a better chance to get Naira back.
As I was picking up the bag to zip it, my phone buzzed. Sekou.
At the cove. Ready to go.
I let out a relieved breath. At least something went right tonight in a sea of so much wrong. I’d run away. Lied. Brought home a stranger. Let said stranger see me as an adze. Defied my grandmother and the ways of the Isle. Why not add stealing to the mix?
When I left my home, heading for the cove with Nana Ama’s bracelets securely in my backpack, I left a note explaining that I was borrowing the cuffs. I asked Nana to trust me and understand why I couldn’t leave Hailey here or Naira out there and that if I was going to ever be the right kind of leader of the Golden Isle, then I’d have to learn how to take care of its people. No reason I gave for taking the bracelets was excuse enough, but I hoped she’d understand. And if she didn’t, I’d understand that too.
