The Jumbies

by Tracey Baptiste

  The lagahoo howled and began to tear itself away from the stinging bush. Dru seized a stick and thrust its end into the flame. Despite her fear of causing more damage, it was the only weapon she had. She waved the fiery end at the lagahoo to keep it away from her. The creature snarled at her. Dru poked and jabbed as she tried to remember which direction led home. The lagahoo swiped at Dru and fire lit up its arm. Quickly its upper body was covered in flames.

  The lagahoo roared and twisted, trying to escape the fire. Dru dropped the stick and began to run. The lagahoo grabbed a clawful of Dru’s hair and pulled, and Dru landed on her back with a thud. Now the creature was completely covered in flames, and it howled in agony. Dru jumped to her feet and ran. The heat of the fire and the scent of burning fur followed her as she raced screaming through the forest. Finally, she reached the open air and moved as fast as she could through the field toward her house. The burning smell stayed close.

  When Dru made it to her village, her family and neighbors stood in the middle of the road, their horror-filled faces lit by the orange glow of the fiery creature. But when Dru looked back, there was nothing behind her. There was just the forest in the distance, consumed in orange flames, and the burning smell, too close to be the forest. Cold water poured over Dru, and then her mother’s arms held her tight. Dru was the one who had been on fire. She reached up to touch her hair, but found only wet ash. Her lovely hair had been burned.

  42

  Captured

  Bouki’s skin grew moist from the damp air and the fear seeping out of his pores. He looked over at his brother to find that he was slick with sweat too. Another scream pierced the air and bounced off the trunks of the trees around them. The douen that dragged them was joined by several others. They called to each other through the trees.

  “Oh! Oh, oh, oh, oh!”

  “Kick, brother!” Bouki shouted. Together the boys kicked as hard as they could, but neither could free themselves from the douen’s grip. It was like being trapped in stone.

  A moment later, the scent of fire came in on the wind and the douens all stopped to sniff the air. Then the sound of feet running, bellies slithering, and wings beating rose up like a wave.

  The douen let go of the two boys and ran on its clumsy backward feet to the others. The little jumbie completed a circle that surrounded Bouki and Malik. Bouki scrambled to his feet and pulled Malik up to face the tiny band of spirits. They were small like babies, but their muscles were tough like those of grown men.

  The douens closed in. One of them began to whistle a little song, calm and pleasant, despite the commotion around them. Then they all joined in. It was sweet and low and seemed familiar to Bouki. He puckered his mouth into an O to join them.

  Just as Bouki took a breath to whistle, Malik clapped his hand over Bouki’s mouth. Malik shook his head and put one finger to his lips. Bouki understood. This was how the douens trapped children. This was the magic they used to turn children into jumbies like themselves. It had happened to Dru’s friend, Allan, and if Malik hadn’t figured it out, he would have been next.

  The douens whistled louder and moved in.

  Malik pointed to something that looked like a path. Then he pointed up in the air. Bouki nodded again. As soon as the douens got close enough, the boys leapt over the jumbies’ heads and made for the trail. A loud thud made them look back.

  Hugo’s large broken pallet had come down on the head of one of the jumbies. “Go!” he shouted at the boys. They both took off running. Behind them, Bouki heard Hugo beating the little men back and then a crack, like wood breaking.

  The boys had not gotten very far when Hugo’s large arms scooped them up. Bouki felt squashed under Hugo’s arm, but he didn’t complain. Hugo dodged high roots and low branches. Bouki was surprised that carrying two boys did not seem to slow Hugo down. Bouki looked behind and saw the douens helping up their fallen brothers. But they were far enough away from the little jumbies. Bouki, Malik, and Hugo were safe.

  43

  Grow

  The soucouyant moved closer and closer, backing Corinne right to the edge of the cliff. A burst of wind whipped around them. It threw the soucouyant’s flames higher into the sky and made the jumbie pause and turn. At once, it moved back to the skin it had left on the ground. It was an old woman again. The jumbie sniffed at the smoke that had arrived with the breeze, then returned to the trees. Just then, clouds moved in front of the moon and plunged the night into deep darkness. Corinne brought her mama’s necklace to her pounding heart and saw a faint orange glow around it.

  Corinne held the necklace up, and it glowed brighter. Inside there was a small round object. When she shook it, there was a tiny rattle. All the years she had worn it, nothing had ever rattled inside. There was no visible opening, no crack. The clouds moved away from the moon, and the stone stopped glowing. Corinne could see there was only one way to find out what was inside.

  She placed the necklace on the ground and picked up a sharp rock. Her fingers trembled. Tears streamed down her face as she thought about destroying the one thing her mama had left her. She held her breath and brought the pointy edge of the rock down. The stone cracked. Orange sparks shot out from its center. Corinne bashed it again. This time, the stone broke apart and a small seed spilled out.

  An ordinary orange seed, dry and shriveled.

  Corinne had believed the necklace was the key to stopping Severine. But a seed was not magic. It was . . . Corinne couldn’t think. She was tired, and her leg throbbed with pain. A cry tumbled out from the pit of her stomach and she crumbled to the ground. Her tears ran along the dirt toward her mama’s seed.

  The third night was coming to an end. Severine’s magic would take hold and Corinne’s father would be lost forever.

  “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  Corinne looked up. Severine stood at the edge of the trees, only she was no longer the beauty who had enchanted everyone at the market. She was long and thin like the branches of an old, rotting tree. Her green cloth wrapping flapped in the wind. Her eyes glowed like yellow flames.

  Severine stepped closer, slowly, like an animal stalking prey. “I knew you would try to get that.” She pointed a thin, gnarled finger at the broken stone with the seed lying next to it. “And look what you found. A seed? What are you going to do? Throw it at me?” Severine laughed, but she kept an eye on the shriveled little seed.

  A large beast appeared next to the jumbie. Its entire body was a dull gray. Even its eyes looked as if they were covered in cobwebs. The beast was wearing clothes like a man, but it lumbered as it walked and sniffed at the air like an animal.

  “Mama, what do I do?” Corinne whispered to the broken stone. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Don’t cry,” Severine said, syrupy sweet. “Everything isn’t lost. You would be very happy with us. I am all that is left of your mother. With me, you can know what she was truly like.”

  Corinne looked at the destroyed stone. Its black and orange shards glinted in the final rays of moonlight.

  “You are nothing like my mama,” Corinne muttered. She pulled herself into a tight ball and didn’t move.

  The witch told me I would lose something, Corinne thought. My father, my friends, or my freedom. She was right. Corinne was blinded by tears. Because I chose to fight to save all three, I could lose everything. What else is there to do but lie here and wait for whatever happens?

  The tears that streamed down Corinne’s cheeks had formed a tiny, muddy pool around the seed. The seed trembled. Then it split open at the bottom and a tiny shoot of the palest green emerged from it and rooted itself into the ground.

  Corinne blinked. This was not the witch’s magic. It was her own. She glanced at Severine, who did not seem to notice what had happened. Corinne sat up and wrapped one of her legs in front of the seedling to hide it from Severine. As she did, she grunted from the pain of her injured thigh, and the seed sprouted a thin green shoot toward the sky.

  The wind moved through the
trees, and within the sound of softly rustling leaves came a whisper that said: A seed is a promise, a guarantee. Plant it and watch it grow. It was her mama’s voice, exactly as it had been, kind and gentle, like the wind through leaves.

  “Oh,” Corinne whispered, and the little sprout doubled in size in response to her voice. She had heard her mama, and now she knew what she had to do. She moved into a crouching position, ready to defend the little plant if needed.

  The wind shifted and a stronger scent of fire surrounded them. Whatever the boys did is getting worse, Corinne thought. Severine and the beast beside her turned toward the scent. In that moment, Corinne saw her opportunity to escape. With a fire in the forest, she would be the last thought in the minds of the jumbies, who would be trying to put out the fire to save their home. But running away would leave the tiny tree defenseless, and Severine would claim it and whatever magic it held for her own use.

  Corinne rose. Should she run or stand her ground?

  She planted her feet as firmly as the little orange tree. Severine finally noticed the sapling.

  “Well, I see you figured out how to use your mother’s magic,” Severine said. “Pity it’s nothing that can stop me from getting rid of those people you love so much.”

  “Please grow,” Corinne whispered to the tree.

  The tree stretched to her knee. Soft branches uncurled from its trunk and delicate leaves unfurled toward the sky.

  “Grow,” Corinne said again, louder.

  In response, the tree grew in earnest. It reached her waist and the trunk and branches began to harden. Corinne grunted as she jumped out of its way. The tree continued to grow, and two blossoms appeared and dropped off. Full, ripe oranges sprouted in their place. The scent of them was irresistible. Corinne reached for one without thinking and sank her teeth into it, rind and all. The orange juice burst into her mouth, and it was the sweetest thing she had ever tasted in her life. She reached for the second one, but Severine swatted Corinne out of the way and took the orange herself. With one bite, her eyes lit with pleasure.

  “No!” Corinne cried.

  The tree grew again. More flowers bloomed. More oranges ripened.

  Severine reached out and grabbed them. Corinne tried to stop her, but Severine threw her backward toward the forest. Corinne skidded and crashed into a pair of sturdy legs. She looked up to see Severine’s creature just standing there, watching the scene in silence, the moon glowing off its grayish skin. On its left hand was her father’s gold wedding ring.

  “Papa?” Corinne asked. Whatever Severine had done to drain him of who he was had also leeched the color from his hair and skin, leaving him almost as pale as the moon. Corinne tried to get her papa’s attention, but he was Severine’s beast now and kept his eyes transfixed on his mistress.

  Severine reached into the little tree, gobbling up every orange as fast as her long hands could pick them. She laughed with glee. She spat out seeds, and orange juice ran down her hairy face. The insects that lived on Severine’s body gathered wherever the sticky juice dripped. The ground beneath the tree was soon littered with seeds and empty orange peels and insects that got scraped off Severine’s body as she climbed through the branches.

  In the east, the sky began to turn pink. In minutes, the sun would come over the horizon and the third night would be over.

  “I’ve lost,” Corinne said to herself.

  The tree shot upward again. Severine was pulled up as she held on to an orange. She dangled for a moment but soon grabbed another branch as it grew out. She found a thicker branch to sit in and reached for yet another handful of oranges. Corinne snatched up a rock and got ready to throw it at Severine. But Pierre caught her hand and twisted it until she dropped the rock on the ground.

  “Papa, please!” she cried. “It’s me, Corinne!”

  The tree grew upward again. There were now so many oranges that full, ripe ones rained down and rolled all over the ground. A few stopped at Corinne’s feet. Corinne could not resist them. She reached for one, but the beast beat her to it. Corinne kicked at the beast, thinking only of the taste of that juicy, sweet orange. The beast howled and squeezed the orange in anger. Orange juice burst into their faces. It howled.

  Corinne screamed.

  The tree shot up again. The ground shook as the roots of the orange tree burrowed deeper into the cliff. A crack opened where the earth met the trunk of the tree and split to just a few feet from where Corinne and the beast stood. Both oranges and insects fell in.

  Corinne stepped away from the crack. She looked up at Severine was still devouring oranges. “Grow!” Corinne shouted.

  The tree grew more and the crack widened.

  “Grow!” she cried again.

  The tree expanded and the crack became wider still.

  “Shut up!” Severine commanded.

  Corinne smiled. “Gr—”

  Pierre put his hands over Corinne’s mouth. She stamped on his feet and struggled to get free but it was no use. Fishing out on the sea had made her father a strong man, and now that Severine had changed him, he was even stronger. Corinne looked at the fallen oranges. She brought her foot down on a large one and turned her face away as the juice flew right up into Pierre’s face. He howled again and loosened his grip long enough for Corinne to pull away. Corinne grabbed another orange and threw it right at her father’s face. It burst on his forehead, and the juice ran down into his mouth. Pierre stopped growling. Corinne saw the gentleness returning to her father’s eyes. A spark of hope ignited in her.

  “Grow!” she shouted.

  The tree reached a magnificent height, and hundreds of oranges rained down and bounced and rolled around Corinne and Pierre. The cliff was covered in crawling insects, white blossoms, and pungent fruit. The crack widened and the ground rumbled as pieces of rock began to break away from the top of the cliff and fall into the sea. The tree tilted over the cliff as more and more rocks fell.

  Severine stopped eating long enough to look down at the surf crashing beneath her. Another rock broke free and fell with a loud splash into the water. Severine’s hands gripped the branch she was on. Then she eased one leg onto a lower branch. The tree shook, and she froze again. Corinne held her breath. Any sudden movement could shake the tree from the cliff. Severine moved again, carefully working her way to the branch below. But when she got there, another orange ripened just near her fingers. Corinne tensed. Severine licked her lips and pulled the fruit and the branch with it. When the fruit broke free, the branch swung back and the force of it shook another rock loose.

  Severine turned to Corinne. “Stop it. Make it stop!” she yelled. And then her voice softened. “Corinne?”

  Corinne looked at the jumbie. Severine’s voice had the same gentle tone that she remembered from her mama. It unlocked the sounds that had been silent for so long. Corinne’s memories rushed at her like a flood, washing her with the gentle words that had taught her to walk, to plant things, to be kind.

  Severine called to Corinne again, and Corinne ran toward the voice that sounded so much like her mother’s. The tree leaned out of the crack and hung over the cliff. She didn’t know how to stop it from falling.

  “Help me!” Severine called.

  Pierre leapt to her rescue. When he landed, another rock dislodged and fell into the sea and the tree tilted down farther. Now it was almost horizontal to the ground. Severine gripped the branches with her arms and legs. Her insects abandoned her, crawling out of her body and onto the cliff. Pierre got near the edge and reached for Severine but she would not let go of the tree.

  “Jump!” Corinne called out.

  The tree grew again as Severine crouched and tried to jump up and out of the branches, reaching for Pierre’s hands. As she did, the first light of the morning peeked over the horizon. Corinne gasped as Severine’s twiggy fingers reached toward Pierre. The tree grew longer and tilted even more. The tips of Severine’s fingers grazed Pierre’s. Corinne bolted forward. The force of her body knocked Pierre
out of the way and sent him rolling from the edge and away from the morning light. Severine flailed and managed to grab on to the rock face, but her green cloth snagged in the branches of the tree. She tugged at the cloth. The tree tipped again and tore away from the cliff. A branch swept her hand off the rock, and Severine spiraled down, down, down with the tree toward the sea far below.

  Corinne stood at what was now the new edge of the cliff. Below, waves crashed over Severine and the tree as the sea claimed them, and then crashed and crashed again as they always had and always would, as if the terrible jumbie had not just disappeared beneath their foam. Sunlight blinded Corinne, and she turned toward her father. He stared at her from the shadows.

  The sun had come up on the third day.

  Pierre growled at Corinne, his teeth sharp and dripping with saliva.

  She couldn’t back away. There was nowhere to go. “Papa, please. You know me. I’m your daughter.”

  Pierre snarled and moved toward her.

  Corinne said, “Saltwater runs in your veins and mud runs in Mama’s and Grand-père is king of the fish-folk, and I’m . . . I’m not afraid of anything!” Sunlight inched steadily toward her father along the ground. Just before the first light reached him, the beast lunged at her.

  “No, Papa!” Corinne screamed and threw an orange at his gaping mouth.

  She sank to her knees and wept as sunlight lit the entire cliff. The witch was right. She could not win.

  But then a cold, pale hand touched her face.

  Corinne looked up. “Papa?”

  In the warm sunlight, Pierre was beginning to look like himself again, strong and kind, not like the mindless, snarling creature that he had been moments before.

  Corinne grabbed another orange and squeezed the juice into his mouth. Slowly Pierre’s face returned to its familiar sun-kissed brown.