Chapter Forty-Seven
We had to leave the plantation’s raging inferno quickly.
Lyle wouldn’t let me look for Nana’s cuffs, even though I begged him.
The cops would be coming. And firefighters.
All the people who maintained the forest and property.
And we’d have no explanation for our being there and for the bodies they’d find inside.
I let Lyle guide me away, holding on tightly to the ball that was my grandmother. She needed to be sent home.
We made it to the Charleston marina, where Lyle was able to hire a late-night boat to take us back to Golden Isle.
The captain didn’t question why we smelled of smoke or looked like hell warmed over.
While Sekou and Lyle got a still-unconscious Naira on board, Hailey and I stood off to say our goodbyes.
She looked as if she’d aged a hundred years. Her eyes were as red rimmed as her brother’s from crying. Her heart was as broken as mine.
“I’m sorry about Luke. I was wrong about him.”
She tried to smile, sighing. She looked out at the water and the lights glinting off of it. “I’m sorry about your grandmother.” Hailey hesitated. “She turned out to be less terrifying than I had thought.”
My eyes filled, and I shook my head. I couldn’t talk about her yet.
“What are you going to do now?” Hailey gestured at my hand where I still held my grandmother. “With her? With everything?”
I couldn’t begin to think of how to be the Isle’s matriarch. I couldn’t even wrap my mind around the fact that my grandmother, my grandmother, was gone.
“Release her light,” I said, trying keep it all in. If I broke down here, I would never get back up. I would literally die.
I wiped an errant tear. “And then I don’t know.”
Hailey grabbed my hand, squeezing it. She pulled me into a hug, holding me tight. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around her. I didn’t want to leave her. So much had happened between us in so little time. We’d lived a lifetime in a matter of days.
“You’ll be better,” Hailey whispered in my ear. “You already are.”
We left with that and a promise that we’d be in touch when things were settled for both of us. Hailey had to deal with her family and the Endowment. And I had Golden Isle and a Homegoing to plan, and … I couldn’t even imagine it without Nana Ama.
All of the Kinfolk came out for Nana Ama’s Homegoing.
We all wore our traditional robes of white.
We wore arm and leg bands, and headbands made of white beads and cowries.
We drew designs with white powder to represent our cultures, traditions, and we adorned ourselves in our chosen Adinkra symbol that best represented our character and the blessings and protection that symbol would provide for us.
My Adinkra was the Dwennimmen, ram’s horns that symbolized humility together with strength.
The ram fights fiercely against its adversary but also knows when to be humble and submit.
All my life Nana told me to not always be fierce, to know when to back off, and I hadn’t listened.
I thought being humble was weakness. I’d give anything for Nana to give me that lecture again.
The lighted lanterns symbolized Nana Ama’s light as we released her on the water she loved so much, from the island she never stopped fighting for, and sent her on her final journey home.
I wished I had been able to take her home, home, back to the Above and to Nyame like she’d wanted her whole life.
I wished I could have done that for Effie too, for whom I sent out a lantern too.
Because bad or not, Effie had been family.
I sent a prayer as the water lapped at my feet that her final journey would be in peace and not in the suffering she endured, and inflicted.
That night I went to bed. It was the first night I was able to sleep fully, where I wasn’t plagued by dreams of a world and place and people I never knew.
Or of an uncle I’d only heard about in stories.
Anansi. But it wasn’t Anansi’s voice I heard that night.
Or Sekou, who sometimes came knocking, though I hadn’t been letting him in.
It was another voice. One who never asked to be invited.
Addae.
I shot up in my bed, the string lights off because ever since I’d come back home, I hadn’t felt in the mood for them.
I twisted every which way, looking for the source of the voice.
I wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare or if I’d really heard her voice.
I licked my lips, and opened my mind, checking for any sign there was anything but a nightmare approaching.
I found a thrum. A connective line.
Addae, I am home.
It was Effie.
I threw off my covers, panic bubbling from my toes, making my scalp tingle.
I was near panic. My heart beat in triple—no quadruple—time.
Why was it her? Why not Nana Ama? And with Nana Ama gone and me the Isle’s matriarch and protector, how could I win against an adze as old and angry as Effie when I hadn’t even Lighted?
But how could I not win? The lives of the people on this island and on the mainland were in danger with Effie roaming.
The weather had called for clear skies, no storms. But thunder cracked its whip, and lightning illuminated the sky.
The boom rattled the house, and I ran out of my room, taking the steps two at time.
I ran outside in my pajama shorts, dread a huge stone block sitting on my chest and growing bigger by the second.
A list of places where she could be ran through my head, but the list was short if she wanted to make an impact.
She was at Naira’s house, reclaiming the one that got away.
Or she was at Sekou’s, or where Lyle was at the guest cabins up front.
But I didn’t feel anything from Sekou, or Naira, nothing that indicated any of them were in trouble.
But the lightning cracked something fierce and the thunder boomed seconds later. Thunder that meant a storm was right upon us. But the sky was cloudless, except an eerie light emitting in the distance from near the Gathering Tree and the cliffs. And I knew then where to find her.