nothing to remember them by except songs, proverbs, place-names, and trails in the forest. His hope was that this old story might be grounded in some fact.
So he asked, “The Jews. How were they with the Maroons?”
This was a subject they’d never broached, but now he wanted to know.
“The Jews were different,” Frank said. “Not really Spanish or English. Not African. Not Taino. But they were persecuted, as we were. Sure, they owned most of the businesses and made money, but they weren’t equals with the Spanish or English. They were beat down. Many laws were passed against them. Did you know that Jews could only own two slaves, no more. Unless they owned a plantation, and that was rare. And they could only have other Jews as indentured servants.”
No, he’d not known that.
“No laws, though, stopped Jews from doing business with slaves,” Frank said. “They sold goods to ’em and white people hated that. They said it encouraged slaves to steal from masters, since Jews gave ’em a place to spend the money. That led to a lot of bad feeling toward them. Jews also sold Maroons ammunition. That was the one thing we could never make on our own. Guns we stole off dead British soldiers, ammunition had to be bought.”
“You never told me any of this before.”
“Bene, there’s a lot you’ve never asked about.”
“Where is this place of the iron gate?”
Frank smiled. “There are things I can’t speak of.”
“I’m Maroon.”
“That you are. So you should know that there are things we don’t speak of.”
“Then tell me more about the Jews.”
The colonel apprised him with a skeptical eye. “Like I said, they sold Maroons powder and shot when we fought the English. But they also sold to the English. Bad feelings came from that on both sides. Colored people acquired full rights here in 1830. After that, the Jews were the only free men without the right to vote. That didn’t come until years later, and it was the freed colored who fought against Jewish equality for so long.” He paused. “Always thought that strange. But the Jews can’t be faulted. They were businesspeople. They feared the English would lose tolerance and seize their property, expelling them. So they played both sides.”
He relieved Clarke of his
“What is that?” Bene asked his friend.
Only bird twitters and humming insects disturbed the peaceful morning.
“Where did you see this?”
The words came thin, rasping, and harsh.
“What is it?”
Frank stared at him.
“The key to the iron gate.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ALLE STARED AT THE VIDEO MONITOR AS THE CAR SPED DOWN A familiar highway. Orange groves stretched for miles on either side, between horse farms and treed hillocks.
“What is your man going to do?” she said.
“Good question,” Brian said.
“There’s a car on Sagan’s tail,” the voice from the computer said. “Closing fast.”
“Where are you?”
“Behind that car. But back.”
“There’s no need to be subtle anymore. Help him. You know who’s on his tail.”
Brian’s eyes confirmed what she already knew.
Zachariah and Rocha.
A lump formed in her throat that she found hard to swallow. Never had she considered the possibility that her father might be harmed.
Yet here it was.
The resolution on the dashboard camera was not good enough for them to see far ahead and road vibrations caused the image to constantly shift.
What was her father doing? Just give them what they want.
This wasn’t supposed to be happening.
“Simon is on him,” the voice from the computer said.
———
ZACHARIAH ROLLED DOWN HIS WINDOW AS ROCHA BROUGHT the car parallel to Sagan’s, in the opposite
