Chapter Eight
It was dusk by the time I found my way to the Gathering Tree, where everything of meaning happened in Kin’s Landing: our celebrations, our concerns posed about the community, Isle, or whatever else, and the decisions we’d make collectively under Nana’s guidance.
Our meetings and ceremonies here were just for Kin, and it was the Kin Nana wanted to speak to first.
Tonight, there were no djembe drums sounding their rhythmic beats. There were no melodies or discussions of Homegoing rites for Elder Gilbert. There was only Nana Ama standing in front of her stool.
The majestic, sprawling Gathering Tree was the oldest live oak on the island, believed to have been here since as far back as the Revolutionary War and since our founding families inhabited the land.
They had nurtured it and let it flourish until its limbs reached nearly across the expanse of Kin’s Landing to the west and east. The tree was the reason why the Kin built their cluster of community here, at the northmost point of the island.
It was thought to have the most earthly spiritual power from those who were here before the Kin.
I usually felt inspired beneath the mighty tree, but tonight I felt a weight on my chest and an unease in my skin. I had so many unanswered questions.
Was this what Nana had meant when she said, She is gathering? Was Elder Gilbert a victim of the gathering? And what could Nana do beyond the protective barriers of the Isle?
Protective barriers. My stomach lurched.
Wherever Elder Gilbert had died, whatever had taken him, it was like the Isle had brought his body home to be taken care of properly.
Nana’s enchantments would call forth a guide for lost Kin.
And yet, Nana wanted his body burned, rushed, without proper rites and recognition.
What could he have done to bring that kind of fate?
I wished this night was like all the others, that Naira was at our house as Nana’s apprentice, assisting Nana with dressing and accompanying her over to where Nana usually sat in her wide-backed Marimba wicker chair with many intricate handwoven designs.
Nana was small, but her aura towered over everyone like an African queen sitting in the midst of her people.
Flickering fire torches would surround our ever-growing square, casting shapes all around.
And fireflies would dance around us, blinking in and out in their infinite beauty.
It was a breathtaking scene, nights like those.
Usually, Nana liked to dress the part when she “held court,” decked out in amulets of golden squares and ivory cowrie shells, with her hair wrapped up in a headdress of multicolored woven African cloth.
Tonight, Nana was simple in flowing white linen.
Her circlet of cowrie shells draped over the crown of her head, tucked in the folds of the top bun of half of her gathered locs.
On her wrists were the gold-and-cobalt cuffs.
My breath hitched at the sight of them, filling me with a twitchy mix of longing and dread as they always did. A part of me wanted to wear those cuffs one day and feel their power.
Another part was terrified of the day I would.
If she was wearing the cuffs, this was serious.
“Brother Gilbert will receive his proper Homegoing,” my grandmother said after the Kin had quieted down. She always left Nyame’s stool unseated for the time when he decided to sit among us.
Sekou slipped down in the seat beside me, his eyes red rimmed and face puffy. I gave him the most comforting smile I could, and a squeeze, knowing it probably wouldn’t count for much.
“It is as we initially believed, a tragic accident at sea while he was out fishing. His boat was recovered, capsized. He’s been out there for days and succumbed to boats out at sea.
The medical examiner has him on the mainland, and when he is cremated, with permission from his family, we will hold a Homegoing for him and commit him to the Asamando. ”
The crowd spoke in whispers around me, their heaviness lifting, comforted by Nana’s reasonable explanation. The sea was the sea, and anyone who ventured out on it could be claimed, they rationalized.
Nana continued. “But for the meantime, be vigilant out there beyond the protective links of the Isle. Comfort one another here. Stay close to home so we can grieve.”
Stay close to home to grieve? Sounded more like she didn’t want us out there because it was unsafe. And if it was unsafe out there, then what about—
“The kids,” Sister Michael asked from within the crowd. “The kids at the other Sea Islands have been gone for days. Maybe we should bring them home?”
Nana Ama shook her head. “They are fine. Sheriff Lyle called to check on them and we, the teachers here, conduct routine checks on them. No need to alarm them. They’ll be home soon and we can move forward.”
Nana’s words were strong and assured. They’d make any of the islanders feel safe and like Elder Gilbert’s death was just a freak accident.
But I knew her better. I remembered her lesson that sometimes with responsibility, the truth did not always set people free.
That sometimes it could be too much for them.
Was this one of those untruthful moments?
I caught up to Nana on her way to the cabin, nestled farther back in Kin’s Landing. I waited until she managed to pull away from the normal crowd that gravitated to her after a meeting.
“I’ll text you later,” I told Sekou when he gave me a look like he had no plans to separate. He still looked a little green from earlier, and I felt sorry for him. “I need to catch up with Nana. Text Naira, huh? See if she’s okay?”
He barely gave a nod before I was off, jogging to catch up with Nana, who was walking pretty briskly for an older lady.
She veered off the sidewalk and onto the path that didn’t take her directly to our house, but beyond it, to her cabin and her space.
I called her a few times before she finally slowed her pace enough for me to catch up.
“Nana Ama,” I panted.
“Not now, I have things to take care of.”
“Like Elder Gilbert’s body?”
She spun on her heels to face me, grabbing my elbow and pulling me close. The gold in her eyes flashed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“How’d you get the sheriff to give you the body? That’s against the law. That could cost him his position.” Wanting to keep this on the low as much as my grandmother did, we moved farther away.
She said, “Go home, Addae. I’ll be there shortly.”
I whispered, urgency rising in me, though I was unsure why, “Call Naira and the group back. This doesn’t feel right.”
She studied me. “Why? Do you sense something?”
I assessed our surroundings. “No but—”
“Then they’re fine and will be back soon. No need to alarm them, or the rest of the island.”
“But why do you need to burn the body tonight? What will happen if you don’t?”
She looked away. “It’s nothing. A precaution.”
I couldn’t believe she was saying this. “A precaution when you can just let the cops follow procedure, especially if you think his death is suspicious.” I stepped in closer. “It’s suspicious, right? His death isn’t right, Nana.”
She looked around, pausing to listen, ensuring we were still in relative privacy. “You have something to say.” It was a statement instead of a question. She pulled me closer to her. “Go home and when I get a moment you can tell me what you have to say.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Nana,” I pushed, willing her to let me in.
“Child, you forget your place,” she snapped.
I reeled back, stung, unsure what to say or do next. My place had always been by her side, to learn how to create protection links, the elixir, and her blessings and incantations she constantly supplied for the Kin when they needed them. She’d never slammed the door between us before.
“I need you to give me a little time,” she said. “I can’t deal with Elder Gilbert and calm nerves and protect the Isle and look out for you at the same time. I need you to do your part.”
“Does this have anything to do with the other morning when I found you in the grove? You said someone was gathering. You said something about the heavens, the spirit world, and the earth clashing together. What does all of that mean?”
“Who said that?” It was the first time Nana’s armor cracked. She stepped back from me, looking alarmed and like I’d wounded her.
“Why haven’t you mentioned this before? I said what?” Her hands rubbed on each golden cuff as I repeated what I’d seen.
It was her turn to look as sick as Sekou had been down at the dock. She remained silent, her fingers rubbing against themselves. Each second of her confusion was an increase to my anxiety.
“And a mountain with the Adinkra symbols circling it?” She looked at me skeptically. “Truly?”
“In gold.” I nodded. I was starting to second-guess myself.
I should have said something earlier and maybe not here, even though we were covered by trees and far enough down the path where we could no longer be seen well from the square, but the argument with Naira had thrown me off and it was easier to brush that other stuff away because that wasn’t real, not like Naira.
Those were just dreams and the Isle playing tricks on me.
She breathed. “In gold. And I sounded like a man?”
I nodded again. “More like a mix of you and I guess a man. It was your voice but deep. I’ve never seen a spirit take you over, if that’s what it was.”
“That’s because spirits cannot take you and I over. Not like they might everyone else. And so if it wasn’t a spirit from the Isle, then what?” Again, she said this more to herself than to me.
“It was a shadow with a bunch of arms sticking out on either side.” I searched my mind for a connection. “To be honest, it kinda looked like Anansi. From your stories.”
She inhaled sharply, making me jump. She put a hand to her forehead as she attempted to get herself together.
She whispered to herself, not me, “I wonder…”