Tangled Passion

by Stanley Ejingiri

  “This is what we’ll do,” Nathan continued. “For now we’ll have to pray for her safety and when she is returned safely, we’ll ask her to choose whom she wants and whoever he chooses, the other will back off, agreed?”

  Jonah nodded, it wasn’t as if he had any choice to begin with but the young Massa had a point; Ashana’s safety was the primary concern and he was starving for any news about plans to go in search for her. After a brief handshake, Jonah departed, he was partially disappointed although grateful that his meeting with the young Massa wasn’t what he had feared. He’d hoped to hear something about a search group for Ashana being put together. Massa Longstands hadn’t held back in his kindness towards Jonah since the incident; exempting Jonah from any kind of work both on the Fort and the plantation but the pain in Jonah’s heart had not ceased and neither had his nightmares.

  “Edwards, please call my parents,” Nathan instructed and reclined his chair.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  T

  Hey’d been riding South for hours, heading towards the village of Scotshead. Bushwacker had dismissed all of his men and was tearing through the bushes with Ashana—her legs, hands, and mouth properly tied up.

  By the time he arrived at Scottshead, it was already dark and nobody had seen him. His hut was in the middle of nowhere, completely hidden and out of sight from all, making it easy for him to come and go whenever he wanted. He’d brought Ashana to his clearinghouse and in the middle of the night he planned to smuggle her into a boat and take her with him to another island.

  Once on a different island, he could sell her for a heavy price or start a little enterprise with her; a beautiful girl like Ashana would make him a sizeable amount of money everyday. Men would pay decent amounts of money to spend a few minutes or hours with you. He thought admiring her as she lay on the floor in ropes. He’d always wanted to start a venture like that but had no money to buy a decent looking slave girl, now with the monies he got from Longstands, his little savings and a beautiful girl like Ashana he had everything he needed. “But before anyone touches you, I will,” he whispered with a smirk on his face. He was going to have her to his fill but only when she was fully awake and conscious, he planned.

  Although Ashana was very tired and completely drained of any amount of strength, she was fully aware of what was going on but she pretended to be unconscious still. She knew what Bushwacker’s intentions were simply from the way he touched her even when he thought she was unconscious. And she had made up her mind that she’d die before Bushwacker did anything with her.

  Her heart was bleeding with the thought of Jonah, she had seen Bushwacker raise his gun and point it at Jonah and before she could make sense of it, a loud bang rang and she saw Jonah fall to the ground. His scream was still echoing in her head and there was no way she could bring herself to stop it, until of course she could find a way to make Bushwacker scream just like Jonah.

  Ashana reckoned it was still some time before dawn when the squeaking sound of the door woke her just in time to notice Bushwacker quietly sneaking out of the hut. She couldn’t move because her wrists and legs were tied but he’d untied her mouth earlier on to feed her—he knew of course that no matter how loud she screamed no one would hear her; she was somewhere in the middle of nowhere. But Ashana had a plan.

  She remained quiet for a few minutes just to ensure that Bushwacker wasn’t returning right away. There was a knife on a table next to the window and Ashana had noticed it when they arrived and Bushwacker lit a lantern and placed it on the table. Even though she didn’t know how she’d get to it or use it since her hands were tied, she knew she needed to have it in her possession. Heaving herself up and then hopping to the table, Ashana turned around and groped the surface of the table, until her fingers touched the knife. But she couldn’t grab it because her fingers didn’t have any room to allow for a proper grip. She turned around quickly, frustrated and enveloped in fear; if Bushwacker returned and caught her trying to get a knife, he’d probably kill her or hurt her seriously—he was that kind of person. Trembling as she slowly bent by her knees, Ashana opened her mouth and grabbed the knife with her teeth, then returned to where she was lying down.

  A few minutes later, Bushwacker arrived with a bucket of water. “You need to wash yourself, you smell like shit, raw, and bloody,” he said to her in Creole but she pretended to still be unconscious. “Wake up girl, wake up!” he shouted into her ears, slapping her gently on her cheeks.

  Ashana opened her eyes slowly and looked at him as if she was trying to figure out who he was.

  “Wake up, I made some hot soup for you and then you need to wash, you smell too raw,”

  Ashana’s heart raced, the knife was still in her hands, which were behind her back; if Bushwacker forced her to wash or hold a cup of soup, he’d discover the knife and it’d be a completely different story. She had to find a way to conceal the weapon.

  “I will wash first, before I eat,” she said, still feigning weakness.

  “Suit yourself, the bucket of water is outside and soap too”

  Ashana struggled to her feet very quickly; she didn’t want him to try to help her. “Will you remove the ropes?” she asked, hoping that he’d say no.

  “No, you wash with the ropes and I will be watching just in case the rope gets slippery and came off.”

  Ashana nodded and hopped after him towards the bucket, her fingers barely hanging unto the knife. Her heart pounded as she judged the distance that she needed to cover in order to get to the bucket and concluded that the knife would definitely slip out of her grip if she continued to hop towards the bucket.

  “Can I stay here,” she begged in a very weak tone. “I am completely tired, I can’t go any farther.”

  “What?” Bushwacker barked, quickly spinning around to look at her but she was already on her knees with her head so bowed it seemed her chin was resting on her chest. “Very well then, I’d get the bucket to you,” he said, and continued towards the bucket. Ashana immediately let the knife drop to the ground and quickly stood on it to conceal it.

  “I’ll take that,” Bushwacker said taking off the wrapper that covered Ashana’s nakedness, which he then folded into a ball and tossed into the bush. “Here let me help you,” he continued, reaching for a cup in the bucket and splashing Ashana with water from it. “There’s soap to the bottom of the bucket, get it and wash yourself.”

  Ashana nodded, Longstands had given her a very helpful tip without even knowing it; the soap would help her greatly, all she needed to do was soap up her hands and wrists properly and the rope on her wrists would slide off very easily. But he was right in front of her, watching her every move and this not only made her uncomfortable but prevented her from doing what she wanted.

  “OK that should be good, at least better than before, so move it,” Bushwacker said after a few minutes, drying her off with a fresh towel, which he then wrapped across her chest afterwards. Ashana quickly squatted and retrieved the knife as he took the bucket away.

  “Don’t give me any hard time, if you play stubborn, you will suffer but if you are good, I will be good,” he said as they returned to the hurt. Ashana nodded, the rope around her wrist was now slack and the knife was still in her hand, and she was just waiting for the right time to use it.

  “Now sit while I get your soup.”

  Ashana nodded, working the knife on the floor to lay it flat. Then she sat on it before he returned with a bowl of soup, which he handed to her. “Hurry with it, don’t take forever,” Bushwacker urged.

  Ashana nodded and slowly sipped from the cup in her hand, her head racing for want of the best possible way to tackle the giant that was sitting across from her and her heart racing for fear of what might happen if she failed to do something, or if she failed in whatever she did.

  “OK that is enough” Bushwacker said a few minutes later, snatching the bowl of soup from Ashana and tossing it against the wall. “Now lie down and don’t try to be smart, I don
’t have patience for smart asses.”

  Ashana gently lowered herself, tears in her eyes but as Bushwacker worked himself out of his shirt she saw an opportunity, jumped to her feet and buried the knife in his throat. Blood pitched like a ruptured pipe and Bushwacker roared like a hungry lion lashing out blindly in all directions. His right hand caught Ashana in the face and sent her crashing into the wall headlong—she gave a low groan and passed out. Bushwacker fumbled blindly, kicking and knocking down everything in his way, caught in his shirt and in the pain of a knife in his neck. But he was still standing and appeared still full of energy and in no hurry to give up the struggle. “I will kill you,” he cried but Ashana was unconscious and couldn’t hear him.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  L

  ongstands kept his eyes on his son as he lowered himself into his chair but Nathan wasn’t looking at his father, his eyes were fixed on the table in front of him. Suzanne too was already anxious for what the meeting could possibly be about. Nathan was not one to call for meetings, especially with his parents but the young man was hardly predictable so she sat down and waited.

  Nathan pulled out two papers from his pocket, gave them a brief look and began to unfold one of them.

  “Nathan, what are you doing—what is this about?” Longstands began, leaping to his feet, “Don’t do something you’ll regret boy!”

  “What is going on here?” Suzanne said, her eyes wide open and oscillating like a pendulum from Nathan to Longstands and back.

  “This is the letter that Father sent to Bushwacker through Edwards,” Nathan said, in a tone loaded with pain and then he began to read the letter…”

  “Stop Nathan!” Longstands said but his words came like the last bit of air from a deflating balloon as he sank into his chair, rage shuttling up and down his body while he fought to keep his hands steady.

  “You instructed Bushwacker to have them murdered in cold blood, you fool!” Suzanne thundered. “And yet you objected to sending them away and called me mean for suggesting it.”

  “Wasn’t that what you wanted Suzanne?” Longstands said in a defeated tone. All he wanted to do was choke the life out of Nathan—the boy was simply insane and unreasonable.

  “Can’t remember asking you to have them killed, Longstands!” Suzanne shot back in rage, floundering to her feet; it was a good opportunity to put herself on Nathan’s side and leave Longstands on his own and Suzanne wasn’t letting it slip through her fingers. “How could you even think of taking the lives of innocent young people, Longstands! I am really surprised at you and I can’t believe that all these years I have been married to a man who would take innocents lives without remorse.”

  “You fooled me into believing that you were searching for the slaves to bring them back to the Fort Father, how could you be so heartless?” Nathan said tears in his eyes.

  “Nathan…” Longstands began but Nathan would not listen to his father.

  “Don’t you ever call my name, ever again! You are not my father, I do not know you; you are a heartless murderer.” Nathan yelled.

  “Shame on you Longstands, look at what you have done to your own son. At least I was very honest and said what I meant. I didn’t deceive anyone as to what I wanted and it definitely did not involve taking innocent lives…”

  “Mother you need to read this,” Nathan said, handing the second piece of paper in his hand to Suzanne.

  “Nathan no!” Longstands cried, lurching forward for the paper but Suzanne already had it in her hands.

  “It’s a page from Father’s diary. Father had a relationship with a slave girl while on another island, he even has a child somewhere in one of the islands.”

  Suzanne was on her feet again. She had risen from her chair in a very slow motion that was totally unconscious, completely consumed by what she was reading and what Nathan was saying. Her mouth was as wide open as her eyes. Longstands was also on his feet, pacing back and forth; he knew it was over, all he wanted was a way to find a smooth transition to whatever life was waiting for him.

  “Where are the rest of the pages?” Suzanne barked, sinking heavily into her chair.

  “I gave him one of the pages. If he had done what I asked, I wouldn’t have revealed this; the diary itself is safe…”

  “Are you out of your mind, Nathan? Do you mean you had plans to keep this from me—that you would have actually kept this secret?”

  Nathan nodded, “It was the deal…”

  “What bloody deal?” Suzanne interrupted but Nathan ignored her. “You are just like your father, just as evil, I can’t believe you two; I demand to have the rest of the diary immediately!”

  “I don’t have it and even if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you mother—not yet.”

  “Edwards!” Suzanne screamed out, knocking the table over as she scurried to her feet, “Edwards!”

  “Massa,” Edwards answered, appearing immediately.

  “Get out of my way–go get the horse ready, I need to get to Roseau immediately.”

  “Yes Massa…”

  “Don’t Massa me, just get lost and go get the horse ready,” Suzanne yelled, as if Edwards was a mile away and suffering from hearing difficulties. Then turning to her husband, she raised her voice even higher; “Longstands I am sure you know what this means,” she was shaking and her breathing was very heavy. “I suggest you get your things ready before I return; my father is about to learn about your other child with a slave girl!”

  “Nathan, how could you? How could you do this?” Longstands began facing his son.

  “Shut up and get lost, Longstands and Nathan get ready. We go together to Roseau together; you never know, he might try to kill you too.”

  “I am not going anywhere with you, Mother!” Nathan said very calmly.

  “What?”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  T

  he paper in Longstands’s hands shook like a leaf in the wind. It was a telegram from Lord Bernard Shillingford; Suzanne’s father was giving him twenty hours to vacate the Fort and hand over the running of the plantation to Suzanne. There were so many things he wanted to say but the words wouldn’t form. His eyes itched for want of tears but remained dry. In less than two weeks he’d lost everything he’d worked so hard for and the people who were robbing him were his very own family—Nathan and…his wife Suzanne.

  Longstands quietly returned to his room and gathered a few things; he wasn’t going to wait for twenty-four hours; it was a long and rough road ahead to nowhere and it was wiser to start while there was still daylight. “Edwards!” he called out.

  “Massa!” Edwards came running.

  “Get back to your quarters,” Suzanne yelled, stopping Edwards in his tracks. “He is not your Massa anymore, now get out of my sight!”

  “Mother!” Nathan shouted. He was still mad at his father but his mother was being heartless and he didn’t understand her insensitivity.

  “Nathan you better keep yourself out of this.”

  “I want my horse ready Suzanne, that’s all…”

  “Well go get it ready yourself. You are no longer in any position to ask for or receive any service in this Fort, hurry and get the bloody hell out of here.”

  A few minutes later, Longstands was on his horse. Suzanne had objected vehemently to his taking of the horse but he simply ignored her venting. He gave the Fort one last look, kicked his horse, and galloped away, his heart shattered in pieces—When he looked back he’d seen Nathan looking from the window. Poor thing, he thought; the boy couldn’t have imagined that his holiday would turn out the way it was doing. But Longstands snatched his mind away from the Fort and all that was in it and focused on his immediate mission. All his military instincts were back in place and his senses were heightened; his first mission was to find Bushwacker and make him pay for the pain he’d caused him—that was his immediate mission and he was determined to complete that before thinking about anything else.

  About two hours later, Longstand
s was quietly tying his horse to a tree one hundred meters from Bushwacker’s house. Although the house was in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by tall bushes and trees, Longstands knew that he couldn’t be too careful. He didn’t want Bushwacker taking off and escaping into the jungle—the man knew the bush like the back of his palm; he lived in the bush and on it. Besides, Bushwacker was an ex soldier like himself. He was taller and better built; there was no arguing the fact that he would beat Longstands if there was a physical fight. In addition to all these advantages, Bushwacker also had slaves as big and strong as he was and mightily loyal. The only way Longstands stood a chance was to take Bushwacker by surprise, catch him off guard and bring him to his knees immediately. Bushwacker was probably expecting him and in that case had already prepared for a confrontation.

  A few meters from the house, Longstands pulled out his revolver and surveyed the house carefully; there was movement inside, one of the windows was wide open and some sound seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Perspiration built up in Longstands’s armpits as he crawled towards the house on his stomach. He had not been in a combat-ready mode since he’d left the military, several years back. The door swung open at Longstands’s kick and he dashed into the parlour, his gun sweeping the room swiftly and his finger slightly pressing down on the trigger. The parlour was empty but there was a sudden movement in the room to his right. He was just about to approach it when a dog shot through the door and disappeared through the main door. “Bloody dog,” he whispered, still breathing heavily. Five minutes later, he had swept the house clean. Neither Bushwacker nor his boys were around and there weren’t any horses in the stable either. “Where are you—you sonofagun?” he swore, frustrated and very bitter. Bushwacker was not one to be easily tracked; if you didn’t catch him at his house, it was a near-impossible mission to try to find him. The man had no friends and rarely hung out in social settings, in fact the average person hadn’t heard of Bushwacker; only those who required his services knew him and these people were mostly men in high positions who would not be inviting him to their homes for supper or want to be seen in public with him. The situation was that Jonah and Nathan had been shot but nobody knew anything about Ashana’s whereabouts; Longstands was still having difficulties discerning a reason why Bushwacker would shoot his son.