“What’s happened?” Uncle Victor asked.
“An old man crashed his car,” Charlie wearily replied. “Just an accident.”
“Jazz,” my doctor murmured. “Jasmine, can you hear me?”
“Yes,” I murmured back. “You guys are loud.”
A hand gripped mine. Then Charlie’s anxious face hovered over me. “Jazz?”
“M’fine,” I managed, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. “Jussneedo sleep…”
July 8th, 1730
Ten years have passed since we left London and voyaged to the New World. Dymeka and I have found solace in this untamed land, for we are two of hundreds of fugitives. Through much toil, we have built a new cottage in Pennsylvania and are quite content to live humbly, as we did when we were children. Much has changed from those tribal days to now, of course, but even in this age, our quarters are humble. Our cottage is one large room with a bed of pelts and a large hearth for cooking and warmth. But we are happy, almost as content as we were in the first century of our existence, when it was just the six of us.
As we predicted, the two couples parted ways. We heard through gossip in the nearby village that a couple, matching Segil and Izz’s description, have also come to America. Although it should come as no surprise, I was still alarmed when I discovered the couple was much involved with politics. They are fools for trying to take places among rulers. They always were keen on the idea of social change but were never very strong in any one movement. They tended to amalgamate with the current fashion. In this case, they now proclaim to hate the English, which is utterly absurd to Dymeka and I. Just a decade ago they loved and enjoyed all things English.
But I dare say they are faring better than Nij and Fadele. From the little we know, Fadele is making new acquaintances with the wrong sort of people. In truth, Nij supports him in his gray dealings with ill-reputed persons. I find some comfort knowing the only thing that hasn’t changed over the course of our lives is the loyalty and devotion each couple shares.
My ardor for Dymeka has not swayed since the day we were introduced. I often wonder if this is a detail of our curse; to never love another, save our spouses. I count myself incredibly fortunate that Dymeka has always been a sensible, noble man (curses aside, of course). Our only sin was that we were all far from sagacious in our youth. Time may not affect our bodies but it is clear to me now that it has taken a terrible toll on my dear friends. There is no doubt in my heart; I will follow Dymeka to the ends of the earth. In a literal sense I already have, but I cannot thank God enough (if indeed He does exist) that I am coupled with Dymeka. I am ashamed to think that if he were to act as Fadele or Izz, I would not hesitate to follow. Perhaps our true curse is blind loyalty. Either way, it will be their undoing.
It could be mine as well, should Dymeka follow in his brothers’ footsteps. I pray he never does, but I will do everything in my power to keep him walking in the light. This was Segil and Nij’s error: To let their husbands become the twisted men they are today. Dear God, if you are there, save us from ourselves!
Chapter 5
Esmeralda
I crawled into the recently-cleaned wardrobe and shut the doors. I waited, arms wrapped around my knees. I sneezed and rubbed my nose. And waited some more. When I was convinced this wardrobe was in fact normal and not a magical entrance into Narnia, I climbed out with a sigh.
I was about to close the wardrobe’s doors and head out of yet another successfully cleaned guest room when something shiny caught my eye. Curious, I ran my hand along the bottom of the wardrobe. I found the mystery object and brought it out into the light. It was a silver jewelry box. There was a string of pearls, a bejeweled comb, and a black and white picture of a teenage girl inside. I recognized the stiff posture and intense look in a minute. It was obvious she was related to Aunt Dinah, but this girl had a rounder face and curly shoulder-length hair.
I abandoned my cleaning supplies and jogged to the first floor. “Aunt Dinah?”
“What?” the old woman snapped from somewhere in the kitchen. She was probably making more of that Goddamned tea.
“I found something in one of the guest rooms. Looks like an old picture of one of your relatives.”
The door to the kitchen swung open and the old woman practically stormed out to meet me by the stairs. She snatched the picture out of my hand and squinted at it. The irritation seeped out of her face. Something like surprise and nostalgia softened her features. She licked her lips as if they were suddenly dry and then stuffed the picture into a hidden pocket in her khaki skirt. “Did you find anything else?”
“Yeah.” I held out the pearls and hair comb, both of which were also roughly taken from me.
“Thank you,” the Aunt Dinah said before she began to retreat into the kitchen.
“You ain’t gonna tell me who she is?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” my aunt said with sudden venom. “The only reasons you’re here are to go to school and clean my house. Do you think you can manage that?”
I scoffed and backed away. “Yes, ma’am.”
Aunt Dinah left without another word. I gave the old woman’s back the finger and marched up the stairs.
As the sun began to set, I shoved my bedroom window open and climbed out. Shimmying down the drainpipe was easy breezy. The moment my sneakers hit the grass, I ran toward the street.
Chapter 6
Charles
I placed
