later?”
“You must wear it,” she repeated. “
Mika hyas ticky pe mika halo ikta iskum kumtux
.”
You need it or you will learn nothing.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What am I to learn?”
She grabbed my wrist, circling it with her thick fingers, drawing me close enough that I smelled the coffee and tobacco on her breath. “She wants you, eh? You do this.” Before I could reply, she went very still. She looked past me. “Who is he?”
I glanced over my shoulder, but I knew before I saw Daniel across the room, watching us, whom she meant. “Junius’s
tenas
. His name is Daniel.”
Bibi nodded in an odd, self-satisfied way. Her fingers tightened about my wrist. “You wear it.
Hyas wake hehe witka yaka how nah. Pe mika sick tumtum.
”
Very important now he is here. Or you will regret it.
“Now that Daniel’s here? What’s he to do with it?”
She only gave me that implacable glance.
“I’ve had enough of this, Bibi.” I yanked my arm away, rubbing at the impression her touch left behind, trying to erase it, unsettled. Her warnings eerily echoed Lord Tom’s and Junius’s,and I was coming to feel I’d made a terrible mistake in asking Daniel to stay.
But there was no such thing as bad luck, and these warnings and predictions were nothing more than silly superstition, nothing but the messy fancies I’d been warned against my entire life. There was no
proof
of such things as angry spirits, and no bracelet could protect me from a young man’s vengeance—assuming it was even what he intended.
“You will wear the bracelet?” Bibi asked.
“Thank you for the warning,” I said stiffly. I turned to go.
“
Mika hyas ticky
,” she said.
You need it.
But I had heard enough of things I must and must not do, and I left her without another word. When I looked back over my shoulder, she was gone, either melted into the crowd or gone from the dance hall completely, which was what I preferred, though the discomfort she’d left in her wake stayed with me as George Bannock corralled me for a dance, and I could not find the pleasure I usually felt. Instead I felt as I had in my dream—colors not quite right, and the world beyond the dance floor shifting and changing, nothing quite familiar, and the fear I’d awakened with this morning hovered, waiting, the dread come alive.
Lord Tom was falling-down drunk when we rescued him from the porch. He’d lost his English almost completely—either that or he was slurring so badly it was incoherent, though it sounded more like garbled jargon to me. Junius put Lord Tom’s arm over his shoulders and lugged him stumbling through the mud to the beach while Daniel and I followed behind. Daniel was quiet, not commenting on Tom’s inebriated state, though I supposed there was not much to comment on. As Papa often said, drunk Indians were hardly a rarity.
It was after midnight when we got to the beach and the plunger. The air was cool, tinged with rain, though it was more mist than anything else, and the heavy clouds scudded over the moon and then broke to reveal it again, from darkness to blue light and back again within moments.
The tide was in, so the boat was floating and we had to walk in water up to our knees to get to it—freezing cold, but it felt good on my feet, which were hot and swollen from dancing. Junius said to Daniel, “I’ll need your help, boy, to get him in,” and the two of them wrestled Lord Tom into the boat. He fell onto the tarp over the oysters, and I winced, thinking of how many shells he’d undoubtedly broken. He passed out almost immediately after. The dance broke up in the distance, the night punctuated with whoops and yells and a celebratory gunshot.
We kept a lamp in the plunger, which Junius lit, and before long we were on our way, cutting through the darkness with the lamp hanging from a hook on the mast, sending a faint glow onto the bay, mostly making it look dark as pitch. The only sounds were the gurgling hiss of
“You must wear it,” she repeated. “
Mika hyas ticky pe mika halo ikta iskum kumtux
.”
You need it or you will learn nothing.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What am I to learn?”
She grabbed my wrist, circling it with her thick fingers, drawing me close enough that I smelled the coffee and tobacco on her breath. “She wants you, eh? You do this.” Before I could reply, she went very still. She looked past me. “Who is he?”
I glanced over my shoulder, but I knew before I saw Daniel across the room, watching us, whom she meant. “Junius’s
tenas
. His name is Daniel.”
Bibi nodded in an odd, self-satisfied way. Her fingers tightened about my wrist. “You wear it.
Hyas wake hehe witka yaka how nah. Pe mika sick tumtum.
”
Very important now he is here. Or you will regret it.
“Now that Daniel’s here? What’s he to do with it?”
She only gave me that implacable glance.
“I’ve had enough of this, Bibi.” I yanked my arm away, rubbing at the impression her touch left behind, trying to erase it, unsettled. Her warnings eerily echoed Lord Tom’s and Junius’s,and I was coming to feel I’d made a terrible mistake in asking Daniel to stay.
But there was no such thing as bad luck, and these warnings and predictions were nothing more than silly superstition, nothing but the messy fancies I’d been warned against my entire life. There was no
proof
of such things as angry spirits, and no bracelet could protect me from a young man’s vengeance—assuming it was even what he intended.
“You will wear the bracelet?” Bibi asked.
“Thank you for the warning,” I said stiffly. I turned to go.
“
Mika hyas ticky
,” she said.
You need it.
But I had heard enough of things I must and must not do, and I left her without another word. When I looked back over my shoulder, she was gone, either melted into the crowd or gone from the dance hall completely, which was what I preferred, though the discomfort she’d left in her wake stayed with me as George Bannock corralled me for a dance, and I could not find the pleasure I usually felt. Instead I felt as I had in my dream—colors not quite right, and the world beyond the dance floor shifting and changing, nothing quite familiar, and the fear I’d awakened with this morning hovered, waiting, the dread come alive.
Lord Tom was falling-down drunk when we rescued him from the porch. He’d lost his English almost completely—either that or he was slurring so badly it was incoherent, though it sounded more like garbled jargon to me. Junius put Lord Tom’s arm over his shoulders and lugged him stumbling through the mud to the beach while Daniel and I followed behind. Daniel was quiet, not commenting on Tom’s inebriated state, though I supposed there was not much to comment on. As Papa often said, drunk Indians were hardly a rarity.
It was after midnight when we got to the beach and the plunger. The air was cool, tinged with rain, though it was more mist than anything else, and the heavy clouds scudded over the moon and then broke to reveal it again, from darkness to blue light and back again within moments.
The tide was in, so the boat was floating and we had to walk in water up to our knees to get to it—freezing cold, but it felt good on my feet, which were hot and swollen from dancing. Junius said to Daniel, “I’ll need your help, boy, to get him in,” and the two of them wrestled Lord Tom into the boat. He fell onto the tarp over the oysters, and I winced, thinking of how many shells he’d undoubtedly broken. He passed out almost immediately after. The dance broke up in the distance, the night punctuated with whoops and yells and a celebratory gunshot.
We kept a lamp in the plunger, which Junius lit, and before long we were on our way, cutting through the darkness with the lamp hanging from a hook on the mast, sending a faint glow onto the bay, mostly making it look dark as pitch. The only sounds were the gurgling hiss of
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