KRISTA RUSSELL conjured water the color of tobacco spit tree cover so thick it blocked all daylight and winding trails that led nowhere No telling what manner of wild beast lurked within Phaedra snorted We’d be better off if we’d gone to the Dismal instead of coming here Evenings at Fort Mose hadn’t been the same since Phae dra started sitting up late with the others She’d broken the magic of the circle ruined the spell of the stories There were almost a hundred people living at the fort and dozens used to come to listen to Big Sunday’s stories Now most retired early and those who stayed were quiet wary of Phaedra’s sharp tongue I’d rather face the English across a battlefield than live like an animal in the swamp Big Sunday said Phaedra grunted You think we’re any different from those critters in your stories No sir the Spanish got us stuck out here like rabbits in a trap Jem touched the blue beads Aunt Winnie had sewn onto his shirt He was glad he had them to protect him Brother Rabbit wouldn’t let himself get caught he said hoping Big Sunday would tell the tale Nobody asked you Make yourself useful and fetch my shawl Phaedra kept her eyes on the sweetgrass basket she was working on Her fingers snatched at the fronds again and again until each strip was bent and shaped to her will Jem left the fire and made his way across the yard toward the thatched hut where they slept But when he entered the dark chosa he stubbed his toe on a bedpost Hopping on his 4
The Other Side of Free other foot Jem fought the urge to cry out Phaedra was always going on about how clumsy he was Finally the pain became a dull throb He dropped to his knees and drew a circle in the dirt Through the middle he marked an X He spit onto the center and walked slowly around the circle Sat isfied he’d countered the bad luck Jem smoothed the dirt and crept carefully around the gloomy hut until he found Phaedra’s shawl Took you long enough she said when he returned to the fire You get lost Someone laughed Jem scanned the faces but couldn’t tell who He decided to ignore Phaedra’s remark Keeping his eyes on the ground he went back to his whittling But it was as though the whistle were made of straw His knife sliced too deeply into the stick breaking it in half He threw the remnants into the fire and watched them catch and burn A twig snapped outside the circle and Shadrack stepped into the light Something out there he announced Shadrack was the oldest of the escaped slaves who’d made their way south to freedom Maroons the Spanish called them The old man slept in the woods beside the kiln where he burned the wood to make the charcoal needed to forge weapons for the militia But he came to Fort Mose for meals He wore brown trousers and a tunic turned gray from soot His watery eyes seemed unnaturally wide likely because his lashes and brows had been singed off so many times they’d given up growing back What’d you see Big Sunday barked the rich cadence of his storytelling voice gone like smoke 5
KRISTA RUSSELL Not see Shadrack tapped a finger to the side of his griz zled head Hear Only thing you ever hear is the dinner bell Thomas the blacksmith said Then tell us what you heard Big Sunday ordered Nothing Phaedra snickered Shadrack turned to her his voice dropping to a whisper When obia come the critters go still The flesh on Jem’s arm prickled He traced a finger along the hem of his shirt where Aunt Winnie had sewn the line of blue beads to ward off the evil eye He listened for the familiar sounds of the night from outside the fort’s earthen walls but heard only the crackle of the fire A log fell sending sparks flying Jem started and then stole a glance to the side hoping Domingo hadn’t seen him flinch Big Sunday’s son made him uneasy More than once he’d snuck up on Jem in the forest or appeared suddenly beside him as he gathered grass in the marsh Domingo had an air of watchful stealth that reminded Jem of the sly trickster Brother Fox Leave off with your stories Phaedra said I’ve had my fill If it’s not you bending our ears with your African mumbo jumbo it’s that priest going on about Daniel and the lion and such Truth telling’s what we need here in pur gatory not tall tales Shadrack shook his head I feel sorry for all you this country-born folk You’ll change your mind when obia come for you He glanced at Jem Or mayhap he come for your little brother 6
The Other Side of Free Jem jumped to his feet I’m not her brother He glared at the faces around the circle They didn’t understand Most of them had kin He had no one Not since Aunt Winnie had traded him off like a sack of rice Phaedra ignored him Don’t waste your pity on me old man she told Shadrack I was born kicking Anything comes for me I’ll be ready So will I Jem said jumping up and overturning the basket Phaedra had been working on Phaedra snatched up the basket and glared at him What you gonna do she scoffed Whistle at them I can take care of myself You can’t take care of nothing she said Almost killed the whole flock of chickens when you let the water run out I didn’t he cried He was sure he’d filled that water bowl You probably kicked it over yourself Hush now boy Big Sunday said Show some respect The wind changed and a fetid smell filled the clearing Big Sunday grimaced What in creation he asked turn ing toward Shadrack The old man held out a leather pouch on a hide string tied around his neck Conjure bag Just got it Keep obia away Phaedra fanned the air in front of her nose Obia’s not all it’ll keep away Don’t mind her Jem told Shadrack She don’t know about the powers of conjuration He turned toward the fire away from the smell Of this he was certain there were mighty forces at work in the world Unseen yet irresistible A trick a charm or a curse and life could change in a hair’s 7
