The Ten Incarnations of Adam Avatar (31 page)

The other incident occurred two years later. I was playing on the glacis, when suddenly I heard the house begin to rattle. I looked around, wondering what was happening. Anne-Marie was with me and I looked at her to see if she was somehow causing this. But her eyes were just as wide in her brown face as I am sure mines were in mine. I heard the sounds of dishes falling over inside the house, and then a louder crash as a cabinet fell over. Then the glacis itself begin to shake under our feet and I sank to my knees in fright. Anne-Marie fell beside me and we hugged each other, hands wound tightly together. The trees in the garden were swaying in an insane dance; the bushes seemed to be trying to shake off their leaves. A swift, keening breeze blew all around. It seemed to go on forever.

But it did end, eventually. The sudden peace, the sudden return of the earth to its accustomed steadiness, seemed at first unnatural. Anne-Marie and I were still in each other's arms. I saw that her face, like mine, was wet with tears. I also felt a dampness at my crotch; I thought at first that I had peed myself in my terror. But when I lifted my dress, I saw that my first period had come. Anne-Marie also lifted her dress to show a similar puddle of blood beneath her. I remember being surprised that the two puddles were exactly the same rust-red colour. My father came and, I suppose in the shock of the moment, carried us both in to be cleaned up. My mother saw to me, in her usual efficient and distant manner, sending Anne-Marie with a slap back to her room.

As soon as my father knew I was all right, he rode out to see what had happened. Later, we found out that more than half of Port Royal had sank into the sea and about two thousand people had been killed. Everyone said that God had visited vengeance upon Port Royal, as he had upon Sodom and Gomorrah, and the churches were all filled in the following months.

But, as I say, apart from these two things, nothing interesting happened until I was sixteen years of age. That was when I met Edward Henry.

It was, in fact, my birthday. Father had naturally thrown a magnificent ball to mark my coming of age, and everyone who was anyone – and even some who weren't – were in attendance. I wore a wonderful dress made of heavy blue silk, with puffed sleeves and a swooping neck that showed my décolletage to advantage. I danced with distinguished old men and handsome young soldiers and drank as much sherry as I pleased. The central hall was filled with light from the crystal chandelier and the many-branched candelabras.

When father made a speech, declaring in a choking voice to all present how much he loved me and how I was the island's princess, tears came to my eyes. But tears gave way to shock when father announced that my main present on this special occasion was a bequest of five thousand pounds, which I would inherit on my thirtieth birthday or at his death, whichever came first. ‘You mean I must wait so long?' I called out, causing loud laughter. It was an unheard-of sum for a young lady, save for the noblewomen of England. Shock then gave way to delight when father, smiling impishly, said, ‘And, the minor present...' and pulled out a glowing pearl necklace from the pocket of his jacket. It was then that I truly knew how deep and abiding was his love for me. And, while he was fastening the necklace around my neck to the applause of all around, I saw Edward for the first time.

He was not clapping, but merely looking on with a smile. He was very tall, clean-shaven, with wavy black hair curling on the nape of his neck. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. There was a scar cut crosswise on his forehead, running down the cheekbone. I assumed it was a duelling scar, for he seemed to be a gentleman. He was elegantly dressed in a gray suit and polished leather boots. His eyes were brown, with long lashes. But I did not like the twinkle in his eyes: it seemed to me mocking.

Later, I asked Anne-Marie who he was. I had asked father to let her attend the ball, and had given her one of my old gowns. It fitted her perfectly and, as she stood shyly in a corner, it occurred to me that in her native country she herself might almost have been taken for a princess. Her back was slim and straight, her neck held with poised elegance. ‘Im name Edward Henry,' she told me. House slaves always seemed to know all the colonists' business. ‘Im a planter who doan plant.'

I watched him as he danced with a number of women. He looked lean and hard and moved with an assured grace. I made some discreet inquiries, but no one seemed to know very much about him. One person told me Henry had been a Navy captain, another said he was a merchant, others said that he had made his fortune in the slave trade. All agreed that he was quite wealthy, even by Jamaican standards. Anne-Marie had been correct: he ran his small plantation apparently only to supply his immediate needs. I could tell he was not the usual type of man who came out to Jamaica. He was very tanned, not in the peeled bark way that most white men tanned, but a cyp-wood gold that almost glowed. I waited for him to introduce himself and to ask me to dance. I wanted to satisfy my curiosity, and men were always pleased to tell me about themselves. But he danced only with the older women and even the two giggling little girls, daughters of a lawyer, who were there. When the band paused, he talked with the men. I was not used to being ignored at any time, and certainly not at my own birthday party. Eventually I was introduced, as father escorted me around. The captain bowed, but did not kiss my hand. Despite his appearance, I decided, Edward Henry was obviously no gentleman.

But when I saw him go out to the back verandah, I excused myself from the portly merchant I was dancing with and went outside as well. The sherry was making my head buzz pleasantly, and I was feeling quite impish. I had decided that I would flirt outrageously with the captain, discover what he was really about, then leave him high and dry – shipwrecked, as it were. As I stepped through the doors, I giggled at my so-appropriate imagery and the captain turned his head. He was standing there smoking, looking out at the grounds, one leg cocked on a wooden bench. The hand holding his pipe rested across his knee, his other hand was on his hip. Even dressed in a formal suit, he still looked as though he were on the deck of a ship.

‘Oh, I am sorry,' I said. ‘I didn't realize anyone was out here.'

‘Good evening,' he said. He didn't change his position, but turned back around and drew on his pipe. There was a large, white moon floating above the nearby treetops. A cool wind was blowing and the chatter of the people inside seemed far away.

‘It is a beautiful night,' I said, making sure to put on my most sophisticated voice.

‘Is it?' he said. ‘I had not noticed.'

Naturally, I grew angry. I was not used to being mocked. I said, ‘Perhaps you are not a man with an eye for beauty.'

He chuckled. ‘Perhaps not. The Good Book does say, “Favour is deceitful and beauty is vain”.'

The conversation was not going as I had expected. I thought that I should go back inside, but that would have been an admission of defeat. Instead, I moved forward, standing to his side but a meaningful distance away. ‘Now were you a courtier instead of a priest, you would have quoted something like “The envious moon is already pale and sick with grief that thou her maid art far more fair than she”.'

‘I did not know the Bard's works were performed in this far outpost.'

‘They are not.'

He cocked his eye at me without turning his head. ‘Surely a young woman as delicately nurtured as yourself does not read vulgar works of drama?'

‘Of course not,' I said, not about to let him think I was not a lady of the highest breeding nor that I could not read. (Father had hired a tutor once but, although I could sign my name, I found learning boring; besides, it was not necessary for a young lady such as myself.)

‘Then how come you to know the plays of Master Shakespeare?' asked Edward.

‘I listen well,' I said, although in sooth I could not recall where I had heard the lines from the balcony scene, which I knew by heart. The tutor certainly had not taught it to me: when I had become bored, I told father that he had tried to make love to me and he was dismissed forthwith.

‘An invaluable gift,' said Edward, continuing to look at the moon. He then chose to fall silent.

I let the silence stretch out until I saw that he was not about to break it, then said, ‘I see your wife would have little chance to practise that invaluable gift.'

‘Oh, I am quite dull, Miriam. Perhaps that is why no woman will have me.'

‘My name,' I said, with some asperity, ‘is Mary-Anne.'

‘My apologies. My memory is appalling, I'm afraid.'

But he did not look the least embarrassed at his gaffe.

‘It must be the effects of the tobacco,' I said sweetly. ‘King James did say 'twas a foul habit.'

‘Curious. I have never met a pheasant who liked tobacco.'

‘Poor manners seem to accompany poor jokes.'

He grinned, his teeth as white as the new moon. ‘I apologize for my poor manners, poor memory and poor wit. It seems that only my purse and those other things I keep in my pockets are plump.'

This held me speechless for a moment, but I recovered quickly and said, ‘A small bird will seem plump if all the other birds are starving.'

‘A small bird will also seem quite large if it alights in a small nest.'

I cleared my throat. I could feel a blushing tide rising in my cheeks, and hoped he could not see it in the dark.

‘I think I should go back inside.'

I turned to go and he stiffened. ‘Come here!' he said. His voice was low, controlled, but it snapped like a whip. I had actually taken two steps towards him before I caught myself.

‘Sir, I fear you have me confused with your dog,' I said, with all the considerable hauteur at my command.

‘Woman, if you value your life, shut your gob and come to my side.'

He turned a little and I saw that there was a pistol at his waist. I went to him, knees shaking. It did not even occur to me to scream for help; the fierce expression in his eyes erased any such thought. It was as though he had suddenly become another man entirely

‘Stand behind me,' he said. He put his pipe to his mouth. To an onlooker, he would have seemed as calm as a rock. But standing beside him I could almost smell the strung tension in him. His not dancing with me had already shown me that he was no gentleman, but I had not realized he was an actual barbarian.

‘There is someone in the woods,' he said.

‘What?'

‘Someone is in the woods. I have seen only one, but there may be others.'

Relief washed through me, so sudden I felt like swooning. And then I caught the import of what he had said. ‘Maroons?'

‘Probably. I don't want to cause a panic, but I don't want to leave here in case they're out there. They may not attack without the advantage of surprise.'

‘What shall we do?'

‘You will act natural and go back into the house. Tell your father.'

‘Will you be all right?'

‘Laugh.'

‘What?'

‘Laugh gaily and go back inside.'

‘Why must I laugh gaily?'

‘So they won't suspect we have seen them.'

‘I can't laugh gaily just like that.'

He took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. ‘Of course you can. I'm trained to fight, you're trained to laugh gaily. We'll both be all right if we do what we were trained for.'

I smiled, then forced a laugh. It did not sound very gay to my ears, but Edward looked approving.

‘Now go,' he said. I did not move; my feet seemed stuck to the floor.

‘I'm afraid,' I said.

He took my other hand. ‘You'll be safe once you're inside.'

I gazed up at him. He saw the fear in my eyes and, leaning forward, kissed my cheek. But – perhaps because of fear and sherry and turning sixteen – I turned my face so his lips impressed upon my own. I felt his surprise, and the kiss lingered dangerously long.

He released my hands and I moved away, letting my hand trail off his shoulders so it would look like a natural leave-taking to anyone who was watching. Edward was right: it was just a matter of training. Within minutes of my telling father what he had said, men with rifles had joined him on the patio, while others stationed themselves on the other sides of the house. Torches were lit and a party of heavily-armed men checked the grounds. They searched for about half-an-hour but found nothing.

Naturally, the ball ended early. Naturally, I was furious. Although there was no threat, and although father made a half-hearted attempt to reassure everyone, people wanted to get back to their homes. They left in groups, for safety. Some of the men lingered, including Edward Henry.

‘Tell me, sir,' I inquired, ‘what did you imagine you saw?'

‘I saw,' he answered, ‘someone watching the house.'

‘And was this person three inches high with gossamer wings and shoes with pointy toes?' I asked sweetly, and some of the men chuckled.

He took a sip of brandy from the goblet he was holding. ‘No. He was very big, dressed in some kind of tunic, and had a shaven head. He did not at all resemble a fairy.'

‘The Shadowman,' I said, faintly.

‘What, my dear?' asked father.

I hesitated.

‘Shadowman. That's what the niggers call their new leader.'

‘I thought his name was Cudjoe,' someone said.

‘I've seen Cudjoe,' said Edward. ‘Short, stocky fellow. Always wears a round hat and a head-tie. This wasn't him.'

‘How do you know of this Shadowman?' father asked me curiously.

‘Anne-Marie told me,' I said, although I did not really remember her telling me. But how else would I have known? ‘They call him that because he is so good at laying ambushes.'

‘Hm,' said father. ‘I'll have to have a talk with Anne-Marie, filling your head with such stories.'

Edward said, ‘While you're at it, sir, might I suggest you also get some facts – sorry, stories – yourself. If this man was watching your house, you may want to have some soldiers patrolling your estate for a bit. Perhaps hire a few extra overseers.'