Page 112 of Meet Me on Greenwood

Sally rolled her eyes. "We are not the same. They never have to fear for their life. Those men can’t love us like Black men can. They don’t understand our struggles. And they sure would never marry us. We are only here for their entertainment, so why bother?" she said, throwing her makeup brush down.

Rita’s eyes flicked over to me as I flinched. Yes, it was a relief to know that Houston was a passing Black man, but he was still passing. He could drop me at any time and that is exactly why I needed to leave. I couldn’t have him blow up his whole life for me. Me leaving was best for everyone. I rolled my lips to smooth out my lipstick.

"Are we ready?" Rita asked.

I smoothed down my emerald green dress. It fell all the way to the floor, and it had the tiniest bit of fringe that moved when I walked.

Next, I fastened my mother’s necklace, which caught Sally’s eye. "How did you get your hands on a juju?"

My eyes widened. "A what?"

Sally approached, lifting the pendant off my chest to get a better look. "I learned about it in my archaeology course, but also my grandma always claimed that we had one in the family that was taken when our ancestors arrived on a plantation ship in Virginia. This is definitely a fire amulet. Who gave you this?"

"My mother," I said. "I inherited it."

"This is the real thing," she said with genuine interest.

"What is so special about it?"

"It is believed to have magical properties. A conduit, a way to channel energy."

I scoffed. "I don’t know about that. I think it is just a stone."

She continued despite my dismissive tone. "It is said these objects can be charged for certain time periods."

I arched a brow. Now she had my attention. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the last person who owned it may have instructed the juju to bring you here, for this moment, at this time in your life."

"You’re not making sense," Rita said.

Sally continued as if she didn’t hear her. "All I’m saying is, the Mandinka people believed these could be used to travel through time."

I felt a chill as her words fell like rain. "Say it’s true, how would one use it to travel?"

"I wouldn’t know. I don’t own one. I do remember reading that the wearer chooses the next destination."

I clutched the stone instinctively. "So, if I wanted to travel, say, 106 years into the future, I could?"

Sally shrugged. "Supposedly. It is only a conduit. I don’t think an amulet could do that on its own. There had to be a mechanism, a device maybe. The Mandinka were some of the most accomplished inventors. Personally, I don’t believe in time travel, but I do love to read about how innovative they were."

I reached for the phone in the pocket of my dress. Was it the ORI alone that brought me here, or was it the amulet? Or maybe the amulet had instructed the ORI to bring me back here?

I gasped. Everything Sally was saying was contrary to all I had built my life around. Hard evidence. Repeatable results. Data driven conclusions. I had never believed in charms or astrology, or the idea that the universe arranged things on purpose. I had believed in work and data and the elegant neutrality of science.

Turning the necklace over in my fingers, I thought about a woman who had spent years lost inside her own mind, who had left this to me and no one else. I’d built the ORI to help people trapped in their own minds, whether the cause was from trauma, dementia, or other forces. I’d built it to help my mother, but what if she hadn’t needed help? What if she was exactly where she needed to be?

"Alright, this is getting boring," Rita said, pushing me over to her closet, where she took out a white shawl that looked like it was made of silk.

"I knew that would look pretty on you," she said. "White man or Black, you will have no trouble getting your dance card filled, Gema."

Camille gushed over us downstairs, making us pause to take several pictures. Judging by the way the flash kept blinding me, I couldn’t fathom that my eyes had been open for any of the photos.

Once out front, we were surprised by a beautiful cream Cadillac. I smiled when I saw Bernie in a tuxedo at the wheel. Rita and I exchanged glances as I put my hand in the crook of her arm.

"Is this a special night?"

Her eyes grew watery. "Perhaps," she whispered.