Chapter 39
OTHELLA
Accompong, Maroon Village, Cockpit Country, Week Eight
An unbearable heat wave climbs into the Cockpit as if it has arms and legs crawling on all fours.
It travels down my back and over my head, leaving me drenched in sweat and irritable.
It’s late October in Chicago, and just knowing it might be cold enough for some snow on the ground back home makes me long for the city where I was born and raised.
Even Robbie agrees that we wouldn’t be so hot if we were in Chicago.
But that’s just a hint of the trouble I’m in.
The clouds hang thick and black in the sky, while a flock of birds rises from the treetops to the east, sweeping the sky to safer ground.
Robbie and I walk through a field nestled between two mountains.
As far as the eye can see, rows of sugarcane stretch across the landscape.
He learned from one of the village elders that the plants are over fifteen years old and continue to sprout each year.
“It is one of the richest valleys in the Cockpit,” he says.
“The daily rains and warm sun create the ideal conditions for cultivating sugar, ginger, coffee, and bananas. These are staples of Maroon commerce, alongside breadfruit, plantains, coconuts, yams, corn, ackee, pimento, cho-cho, cucumbers, and cashews.” He pauses to catch his breath.
“There is so much here. I could stay forever.”
He carries the two baskets of fruits and vegetables we’ve gathered in the valley. “You’ve been different since you returned from Kingston,” he says.
Not only has he noticed, he is also gently asking questions about how I feel and if there’s anything he can do to help.
I hesitate to respond. Our pinky swear weighs heavily on my mind.
If I say anything, it would be a lie, and I don’t want to face the consequences of lying.
Not the absurd penalty of having to swallow a thousand needles; there aren’t that many needles in all of Accompong.
What troubles me is losing Robbie’s trust.
“Are you going to answer me?” he asks, still walking with his baskets in hand.
I don’t respond. Maybe if I stay quiet long enough, he will grow tired of waiting and leave me be. But when have I ever been that lucky?
“This has something to do with Kingston. What happened when you went there with Zinzi? Tell me—I won’t judge you, Othella, no matter what it is. I want you to know that you can always talk to me.”
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.”