The Jumbee (40 page)

“Flattened lava tube,” he muttered, antagonism warring with his natural curiosity. As Alan led them into another branching cave, Rafe pointed to a disabled wind generator spanning the breezy space.

They came upon the sea with a suddenness that startled Esti. She should have known by the drum of water inside the cavern, but the tunnel had seemed much longer in the dark. Several shafts of sunlight pierced the large space from above, and Alan placed his flashlight on a rocky ledge.

A shiver of apprehension swept through Esti as she watched the water level rise nearly to the boat at their feet, beating fiercely into the rocks and niches of smaller adjacent caves. Then the sea dropped away, gradually exposing a narrow, sunlit sliver in the rocks in front of them.
That
tiny opening was the only way out of the cay?

“Come on,” Rafe said as the water began rising again. He pointed to the scuba gear he’d stowed inside the little rowboat. “You’re wearing the vest, babe. It’ll help you float while we swim home.”

Esti looked at him, beautiful and full of energy, impatient and eager to get out of this eerie place and move on with life. Beside him, Alan studied her impassively, his blue eyes resigned to his lonely fate. He’d known all along that she would break her promise, and he wasn’t going to challenge her.

As the catapult grabbed her one last time, she knew it wasn’t merely about compassion; it was about friendship and honor and betrayal. No matter what she did now, the choice was wrong. Romeo’s dagger had found its sheath in the hearts of everyone she loved.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Rafe, pulling his head down to hers for a last, fierce kiss. Then she pushed him away.

“You go ahead, Rafe. I’m staying here.”

Act Three. Scene Nine.

“I made her promise to stay.” Alan’s sharp reply followed her words so quickly that Esti lurched back. He didn’t even glance at her as he cut off Rafe’s furious protest. “I agreed to save your life, Rafe Solomon, only after Esti promised to give me her life in return.” His words echoed in the cavern.

Esti pressed her hands against her face, unable to meet Rafe’s disbelieving stare.

“But Esti taught me something after I snatched you from the hurricane,” Alan continued, the power of his voice seemingly all that kept Rafe from attacking him. “Even if she gives me her life, she can’t heal me. If I keep Esti against her will, my misery will consume me until I am destroyed. Perhaps, as Legard would say, I have more control over my life than that.”

Rafe scowled.

Alan turned back to Esti, his expression strangely joyful. “It’s enough for me to know that you would do it, Esti. Now, I’ll take you far enough away from my lady to make sure you’re safe.”

“Alan—”

“You have to share your talent with the world, as Legard did.”

“I don’t know if I can.” She ached so deeply, she could barely speak.

“Esti.” Alan’s expression became severe. “The actress lives in every fiber of your being. You would have spent your life longing for the stage, even had Legard been a garbage collector, and I”—he glanced at Rafe—“a bartender.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed.

“You will be happier with Rafe.” Alan’s mouth twisted in a painful smile. “I love you, Esti, but your life is not better with me in it. You need someone who can shine with you, and that person is not me. I would not survive your spotlight.”

“But onstage you could—”

“All the world is not a stage.”

The painful truth of his words made it hard for Esti to speak. “What will you do?”

He shook his head. “I will never forget you. Now get in the boat, both of you.”

Still scowling, Rafe quickly detached the life vest from the rest of his scuba gear. Numb, Esti let him slip the vest over her shoulders, trying to stay calm as Alan dragged the rowboat partway down the slope. As soon as they settled inside, Alan shoved the boat free, plunging the oars into the water.

“Chupse,”
Rafe hissed.

She reluctantly looked up. The exit was barely visible beneath the high water. Alan watched over his shoulder, waiting for the sea to recede. As the water level began going down, he pulled at the oars. The little boat shot toward the rock wall. Rafe’s hand tightened painfully around Esti’s as they slid through the narrow slot.

The moment they emerged, the boat rose up along the side of a tremendous wave. Esti clamped her lips together to keep from crying out, as the sea pushed them back toward the side of the cliff. The tendons in Alan’s neck stood out as he rowed with all his strength, pulling them over the crest of the wave and away from the cay.

Esti barely heard the sharp crack of wood over the crashing water, but the sudden look on Alan’s face sent a chill of terror through her. She met his eyes as he held up the broken oar.

“Jump!” he ordered.

Before Esti could move, Rafe was dragging her over the side of the boat with him. As water closed over her head, she felt Rafe grabbing the shoulder strap of her life vest. It seemed like forever before the vest brought her back to the surface. Gasping, she tried to kick in the direction Rafe pulled her.

By the time he stopped long enough for Esti to look around, she was already exhausted. They hadn’t gotten very far. When the next wave lifted them high in the air, she cried out in horror. Pieces of the rowboat churned in the spray against the cliff, breaking up even as she watched.

Alan had disappeared.

“Alan!” she screamed, frantically searching the water with her eyes before she and Rafe slid into the oncoming trough. Rafe grabbed her vest with both hands as she tried to pull away from him.

“You can’t do anything!” he yelled over the crashing waves. “We gotta get out of here.”

She knew he was right. Her mind wailed in protest as she turned and followed him. Torn seaweed and leaves, and entire uprooted trees floated on the surface with them. They swam forever through the flotsam-strewn swells.

She vaguely heard Rafe tell her the current was helping them, but the words meant nothing. Eventually she heard the police helicopter overhead and saw Rodney above, speaking urgently into a radio.

She didn’t realize they had made it to shore until her bare feet scraped against sand. Somewhere she had lost her shoes. Rafe dragged her through the rolling surf, and they both lunged forward as a large wave pushed them onto the beach. Rafe stumbled and went down, and she tripped over him before she could stop herself, gagging on the salt water that filled her mouth and nose.

Then someone helped them up, pulling both of them past the high water mark. Carmen and Chaz, she realized, soaking wet and looking more frightened than Esti had ever seen either one of them. As she collapsed on the sand beside Rafe, choking for air, Aurora flung her arms around them both.

“Esti,” she sobbed in relief. “Oh God, I knew Rafe had to somehow save you. We all spent the night in the theater, and the storm was horrible, and I was so terrified . . .”

Esti leaned against her mom, crying with her. She felt Rafe’s hand, and she tightened her fingers on his, clutching him like a lifeline. After a few moments, she looked at the blurry crowd held at bay beyond George Moore. On Rafe’s other side, his mom merely shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

The helicopter landed down the beach from where they sat. Esti’s mouth dropped open as she looked around. The hurricane had destroyed Manchicay Beach, stripping much of the sand down to bare rock and leaving trash and dead trees in its wake.

Every bit as startling were the crowds of people Esti hadn’t noticed when she stumbled out of the water. Frederick studied her with tired, red-rimmed eyes. The cast huddled behind him, most of them standing with their parents. Around them, a vast throng of dark faces stared at Esti. The entire island had gathered on the beach, it seemed, to see if Rafe would rescue her from the jumbee.

Rodney climbed down from the helicopter, followed by Officer Wilmuth. Rafe’s dad looked exhausted as he walked toward them. “You okay?” he asked, coming to a stop.

“Yeah, mon,” Rafe replied calmly. “Matter fix.”

“Chupse.”
His dad shook his head. “I have always know you give me a heart attack, Rafe. But you girlfriend she does steal the show.”

“Like I always say, the paparazzi are going to love her,” Carmen added from beside her.

Esti almost smiled.

Rodney’s expression softened as he studied Esti. “The jandam are headed back over to Manchineel Cay now, and they need—”

“No,” Rafe said. He picked up Esti’s hand again, very gently this time. “The jumbee is dead.”

A small sound reached Esti’s ears, practically inaudible over Aurora’s cry of relief and the murmuring of the crowd. The voice matched the ache in Esti’s heart, and she looked around in time to see Ma Harris sag against Domino.

“What you mean?” Officer Wilmuth stepped forward.

“He drowned.” Rafe looked up at the policeman. “That’s what I mean.”

“You saw he?” the officer insisted.

“Yeah mon, I saw he.”

“Jumbee them can die, for true?”

“What you think?” Rafe snapped. “I ain’t no jumbee expert.”

Lucia’s mom straightened as everyone turned to her. Her face showed no emotion, but the ache inside Esti grew stronger at the look in Ma Harris’s dark eyes.

“Manchineel Cay is danger,” the woman said. “It have death for anyone set dey foot on it. Leave it be.” She turned and walked toward the parking lot.

Lucia gave Esti a sympathetic glance, then followed her mom, holding Quintin’s hand.

Esti looked back at Manchineel Cay. It took a moment for the movement at the top of the barren cliff to register in her mind, and then the dark silhouette disappeared. Rafe’s fingers tightened convulsively on hers. He’d seen it too.

Alan was alive.

Esti’s mind raced. He must have climbed up to the exposed cliff to watch them swim to Cariba. He had risked discovery by the helicopter to make sure they made it home.

“Rafe and Esti had survive,” Officer Wilmuth pointed out in a determined voice. “If the jumbee he dead, the cay—”

“Is haunted,” Rafe interrupted. “You don’t want to go there, believe me.”

In surprise, Esti realized what Rafe was trying to do. He wanted to protect Alan.

For her.

As his hand caressed hers, she felt a rush of love for him. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to stand, pulling Rafe up with her. Aurora scrambled to her feet beside them.

“Rafe convinced the jumbee to let me go,” Esti said to Officer Wilmuth. The people around them stared at Rafe in awe.

Esti heard Frederick’s voice telling his New York friends how Esti’s real-life drama added to the emotional depth she was capable of. They should have
seen
how Esti took on the ghost, he exclaimed softly, when it tried to destroy the theater the other night. Not even a jumbee could possibly touch a fabulous talent like Esti Legard.

She didn’t have to fake the tremor in her voice as she continued. “The jumbee paid for what he did,” she said. “He’ll never bother me again.”

Officer Wilmuth still studied her with troubled eyes, and she remembered the afternoon he politely sat beside her to ask for Paul’s last words. Sadness swept through her as she realized he could never know the truth about his nephew’s death. She almost reached out to touch his hand, then thought better of it.

“Just leave it be,” she whispered.

She turned to Frederick, surrounded by the cast and his cadre of friends whose plans had been destroyed. With a deep breath, she met his eyes.
You’re the one in control, Esti. No one else.

“Shall we try one more time?” she said. “If the rest of the cast is up to it, give me a call after I’ve had a chance to recover. What about tomorrow?”

“Are you serious?” Frederick lit up like a little boy in a candy shop. “Yes, darling
,
I’ll make it happen! Somehow I’ll make it happen.”

“Mr. Mackenzie . . .” Officer Wilmuth trailed off in disgust. He turned and walked back toward the helicopter.

No one tried to stop Esti as she turned away from Manchicay Beach. She heard voices behind her, sensed Rafe and Aurora following while George held the crowd back. As she passed the open shower area, she saw a Jeep parked within its low walls, left there by Rafe in his frenzy to follow her. Beyond the showers, a rusty blue pickup made its slow way across the crowded parking lot, Lucia and Quintin looking solemnly at her from the open bed.

With a start, Esti suddenly knew what she had to do. Exploding with a burst of determined energy, she sprinted across the wet gravel as fast as she could in her bare feet.

Domino sped up as their eyes met through the windshield, but she reached the exit first, gasping for breath. He braked hard, skidding on the gravel and coming to a stop inches away from her. Grabbing the edge of the truck so Domino wouldn’t drive past, Esti strode to the open passenger window.

Lucia’s mom stared straight ahead.

“He’s alive.” Esti leaned in the window. “But he’s without a boat now. The cay destroyed his old one.”

She recoiled at the fierce look Ma Harris gave her, her numb fingers slipping from the rusty door.

“He needs you,” Esti said. She closed her aching eyes and pressed her forehead to the door frame for a moment. “He’s so lonely out there. Please take care of him.”

When she stepped back, she almost expected to be hit by gravel from spinning tires. Ma Harris still didn’t look at her, but the truck pulled away more soberly than it had approached.

“What are you doing?” Aurora caught up to Esti, her voice tired and helpless. “I thought this was finally over. Why are you talking to Ma Harris?”

“It’s over.” Esti met her mom’s eyes. “I just wanted her to hear it from me.”

They both turned and watched the truck until it reached a bend in the road. Quintin and Lucia glanced back at them as the truck disappeared from sight.