Garr flashed me a gap-toothed smile.
Then, it hit me. He had tendencies.
A little something Preacher had left out.
As Garr led me up the steps into his river cabin, Noah, Phin, and Seth on my heels, he let out a deep, amused chuckle.
“Well, baby,” he said, and we stepped into the cabin. “We got some catchin’ up to do, me and you.” All of six feet five inches, he looked down at me. The ceiling fan whirring in the living room seemed about to take his head off. “Now, we ain’t stoppin’ in here, no, sir.” He inclined his head, adorned with a faded Awendaw Blue Crabs cap, perched slightly crookedly. “Straight out da back door, to da pavilion. Your Eli is waitin’ for you out dere.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You like crabs, don you, girl?”
I smiled. “Yes, sir. I do.”
“Good, den. Let’s get out dere before dey all get eaten.”
Garr left no chance for me to discuss anything with Noah or Phin. He continued to pull me through the little river house, straight out the back door, and down a long wooden dock over the marsh. A slight breeze kicked up and blew briny air across my cheeks, and the rustle of saw grass blades scraping against one another nearly soothed me.
Nearly, but not quite.
Once at the end, three other Gullah standing by Eli raised their heads and grinned. Two were older, maybe in their late fifties, and one was younger, midtwenties. The barefoot younger guy, bare-chested and wearing cut- offs to his knees, was dumping a basket of live crabs into a large pot of boiling water. Metal crab baskets lined the dock, and two long metal, green-netted scoop nets rested against a lawn chair in the middle. Two large coolers sat beside them. The boy nodded, keeping his gaze trained on me. Eli walked toward us.
“Come on in here, girl,” Garr said, and led us into the screened-in boathouse. A long, well-used wooden table and benches took the length of the small house; covered in newspaper, a large pile of boiled crabs, red from cooking, sat heaped in the center.
“Sit,” he said, and crossed in front of me to sit on the other side. “Eat.” Old gnarled hands picked up a crab, pulled off the claw, and pulled the pincers apart. He sucked the juice from the claw, then cracked into the meat with a tiny hammer.
Eli stepped inside and found a seat beside me. Seth slid in next to me, on the other side; Noah and Phin crossed over and sat on the other side, next to Garr. A few minutes later, Luc wandered in and sat next to Seth. We all ate. The young Gullah brought in plastic cups and a cold gallon milk jug filled with sweet tea, then poured our glasses and left.
“You see, girl,” Garr started, in between bites of white claw meat, “Charles Town in a bad way, dat’s right. Just like Savannah. Maybe worse,” he said. “Dat Preacher, he told me what happened over dere, with da hell stone.” He shook his head. “Dat’s bad stuff, dem Arcoses. But dem Duprés, dey handled it good, wit your help.” He glanced at Seth. “You all right, boy?”
Seth nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Garr nodded. “Well, we glad to have your help here in Charles Town. Been a long time since we had much trouble here, dat’s right, Noah?”
Noah gave me a quick glance. “Yes, sir.”
Garr leaned forward, crab meat sticking to his fingers. “Well, we got it now, doh. Dem Arcoses, dey turned some, dey left some wit tendencies, dey killed some. No tellin’ how many runnin’ round now, doh.”
“Preacher says we have to entomb them again,” Eli offered. “Maybe just one of them.”
Garr nodded. “Probly so.” Eli had already explained to Garr Victorian’s explanation, and about me. The whole while, Garr said nothing more. But he watched me with ancient, wise eyes.
We finished eating; I don’t think I’d ever eaten so many crabs at once. They were good, with just the right amount of seasoning. Some of it I recognized as normal, regular, everyday spicy crab boil seasoning; some I did not.
“To keep up your strength,” Noah said, staring at me from across the table. He wagged his brows.
By the time we finished, the sun had nearly set; the gloaming, Noah had called it, with no sun, no moon, and the eerie glow of afterlight. Usually, the gloaming was filled with bugs and birds and frogs, calling, mating, singing—not so much anymore. Funny how nature knew what was going on, but humans didn’t.
We left the dock, and the afterlight, behind.
Inside Garr’s river house, he pulled something from the pocket of his white T-shirt and stopped us one more time. He handed a vial each to Seth and me. “Drink up, Brodder and Sister,” he said. “Dis will let dem newlin’s tink you mortal all de way. Might help for a spell, dat’s right.”
Neither Seth nor I hesitated; we unscrewed the small little lid and turned the bottle upright. We drained every drop. It tasted a mixture of sweet and tang, but with no aftertaste. We handed the vials back to Garr.
“Dere now. You go and take care of stuff. I’m here if you need me,” he said.
“Thank you,” I returned, and before I could go, he grasped both of my hands. With aged fingers he trailed the dragons on my arms, scraping the wings at my cheek.
“You mind dem Duprés, girl,” he said. “And dis Noah, too. Dey keep you and your brodder safe, and Preachers boys and dat odder big dark fella.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don be a hardhead, girl. You can’t take dem all on by yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered, and could only wonder what sort of conversations he and Preacher’ had had about me.
Garr grinned. “Wasn’t no Preacher, girl. Was Eli Dupré. Now git.”
I could do nothing more than stare.
Garr laughed and shooed us out of his little old green river house. Eli grasped my arm and pulled me close.
As we crossed the yard, the lamplight cast an amber half circle around the house. Beyond the circle, fireflies blinked in the night. It felt surreal here, on the Awendaw; almost disjointed from the hell in Charleston. I knew better, though, and by the time we left and headed south on US 17, complete darkness had fallen. This time, I rode back with Eli on his bike.
Just as we hit the city limits, I felt Eli’s hand grasp mine, wrapped around his waist, and squeeze. He said nothing. He didn’t have to, and I wasn’t going to ask.
No sooner had Eli stopped the bike than Victorian’s voice fill my head.
