Pamela Keyes - The Jumbee

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

First and foremost, I would like to thank Rebecca Sherman for being the most patient and encouraging agent I ever could have hoped for, and Alisha Niehaus for being the best editor on the entire planet (and thats an understatement). Rebecca and Alisha, thank you both from the bottom of my heart! Thanks to my son and daughter, Zachary and Zia, who always keep my priorities in perspective. I cherish the support of my mom, Betty, and my sisters, Deb and Julie, who have been with me every step of the way. I cant possibly include all the friends who helped me, but I would especially like to thank Maaike Schotborgh, Susan Leader, and Ed Hoornaert, for your endless reading and critiquing and re-reading. Thanks to Dawn, Rose, Sandi, Frances, Kerri, Tiina, Gretchen, Sammy, and Doug for always believing in me. Thanks to Tracy and Carolyn for introducing me to The Phantom, and to Cassie and her parents Sally and Bob, for giving me personal insight into a Caribbean high school theater department. And finally... Walt, thank you for everything.

Prologue

Paul is dead!

Estis head jerked up at the wail from the old theater building. She jammed her books into her backpack and leaped to her feet. Heart pounding, she raced across the grassy courtyard, fumbling to close the zipper of her pack. In front of her, a girl stumbled from the building, catching herself against a palm tree.

Esti grabbed the main door before it could close. Two teachers knelt beside a boy on the stage, speaking in urgent voices. Other students shoved into the theater behind Esti, jostling her to get closer. As people crowded around, she fought a rising sense of panic. She recognized the clothes and the colorful knitted cap on the boys head. Outside, someone yelled for an ambulance.

I think he broke his neck, the theater teacher said in a shaky voice. He must have fallen from the catwalk.

Esti clutched her pack against her chest and backed into the corner, following the teachers gaze to the narrow metal bridge above the stage. It didnt look like enough of a fall to kill someone.

Not an omen, not an omen, she chanted desperately to herself. Asking to move to the Caribbean for her senior year surely wasnt a giant mistake; it was the most independent choice shed ever made. Her father would have been proud of her. As a ceiling fan creaked in the shocked silence, relentlessly stirring the humid air, Esti felt the sharp coral pattern of the wall digging into her shoulders.

So what if Paul was the first boy shed met at Manchicay High School? Half an hour ago he had appeared on the stage from nowhere, scaring the living daylights out of her. She was still trying to shrug it off as a silly new girl moment, but it no longer mattered. He was dead.

Miss Legard, I understand you was the last one who speak with Paul.

Esti looked up at the strong West Indian dialect, startled by the deep brown eyes of a policeman. The police had shown up right away, then an ambulance. They had asked Esti not to leave the scene, although they moved her to the other side of the lush green courtyard. Now she sat on a carved stone bench at the edge of the school grounds as they stretched yellow tape across the theater entrance. She hadnt been able to watch when they carried Pauls body away on a gurney.

I had try to call your mother, the policeman said, but no one answer the phone. I need to ask you a few question.

I dont know what happened. Esti picked at the belt loop of her faded jeans. She had called home several times, more frantic with each try, but Aurora wasnt answering. I dont know anyone at Manchicay. Its my first day here.

Yeah, miss. Although the officers dark forehead dripped with sweat, his expression seemed kind enough. He sat down beside her, his arm remarkably black next to her pale freckled skin. I aint accusin you. He spoke slowly, making sure she understood his words. You teacher say you was in class today, and I know you come to Cariba Island just a week ago. But you was in the theater before he fall.

Esti didnt know if the sweat trickling down her neck was from the heat, or from the anxiety churning inside her. Tucking a stray wisp of brown hair back into her long ponytail, she managed a quick nod.

Paul Wilmuth was my nephew. The policemans eyes became sad. My brother son. Yous the last one talk to he, and I had like to know what he say.

Esti slumped on the bench, wishing she could disappear into the tranquil sea. As a distant splash sent ripples surging, however, she couldnt suppress a matching shiver. Sharks were probably hiding beneath the calm surface out there. She should tell Officer Wilmuth the truth, even if it wasnt what he wanted to hear.

After her classes she had gone into the empty theater to get a feel for the stage layout, determined to start the year off right. Shed been reciting Juliets lines for almost twenty minutes, working herself into an unexpected reverie as the theater welcomed her with its nice acoustics. The knowledge of starting from scratchmaking her own name in a new theater with a blank slatefilled her with a growing sense of joy. The very air around her seemed to radiate delight.

Then a boy appeared from behind one of the sets, laughing at her involuntary scream. Scare ya, gal?

He spoke with an accent so thick, she strained to understand him, his dreadlocks bundled beneath a tall, brightly knitted cap. Esti wasnt particularly short, but the cap made the boy look huge. Her heart thudded as he approached in his flamboyant island clothing, and she forced herself to stay calm. She was going to make friends with the other theater students this year. This time she wasnt going to blow it.

Before she could speak, however, he laughed again. You got no chance at Juliet.

She felt her face turn red. How could six words, spoken by a boy shed never met before, hurt so much?

For true, he continued. You best try something else.

She should have told him he had no right to cut her down. Youre the one in control, Esti, her dad had always said. No one but you. The problem was, shed never been as good at clever comebacks as her dad was. Not even onstage, where she could think the fastest. So she had shrugged and turned away, blinking back tears as the boy sauntered over to a long metal ladder. She knew hed seen her slink away, his shoes ringing against the high metal floor of the catwalk as he moved above the stage. When she reached the main entrance, she could barely drag open the heavy door, muttering the words that now tied her stomach in a knot. I hope you fall.

Esti forced herself to meet his uncles eyes. I didnt really talk to Paul. I hardly understood what he said.

The policeman nodded. He had say something? Anything?

Esti took a deep breath. He told me I didnt have a chance of getting a part in the school play.

Officer Wilmuth frowned. That dont sound like Paul.

She chewed on her lower lip, trying to calm the heat in her cheeks. Officer Wilmuth looked so forlorn. Paul probably wasnt trying to be mean, she whispered. My dad died a few months ago too. Im so sorry for your loss.... She clamped her mouth shut, knowing from experience the inadequacy of those words.

All right, miss. Officer Wilmuth sighed and rose to his feet. Good afternoon. A white-skinned policeman across the round courtyard was speaking to a slender black girl with solemn eyes. They both glanced at Esti for a moment, then resumed talking.