Free Invisible World by Suzanne Weyn Page B

realize.”
    â€œMaybe.” Aakif sounded skeptical. “It’s not easy to find anything in common with the plantation owner or his family or his foremen.”
    â€œWhat about me?” I asked quietly.
    Aakif gazed into my eyes. “You’re different from them.”
    It made me extremely happy to hear those words. “I hope so. I want to be,” I said. “Tell me how I’m different.”
    Aakif smiled softly as he brushed some hair from my eyes. “You are njoso, Betty-Fatu, but you are not a spirit from the forest. You are an ocean sprite.”
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    The first thing Aakif and I did when we reached the remnants of my old fire was to build a new one. After that, we set up a tent, made from a quilt that looked like it was woven but was really strips of fabric sewn together.
    After that was done, we walked the shore, talking for close to an hour. His dream was to buy his freedom. The plantation owners paid their foremen a small wage. “And during the off-season sometimes I can fish and row over to the mainland after dark to sell my catch. I know a man there who takes it from me and pays right at the dock. I can be back before anyone knows I’m gone.”
    â€œDo you think you can ever earn enough?”
    â€œMen have done it on this plantation before,” Aakif replied, his voice filled with determination. “And if others have, I can.”
    â€œYou’ll do it,” I said, feeling sure he would.
    â€œWhat about you? What do you want?” he asked.
    â€œRight now I just want to find a way home.”
    â€œWhen the masters return in two months, we’ll make sure they help you.”
    Could I last two months? It seemed like such a long time to live out here on the beach by myself. But at least I had Aakif to help me.
    â€œAfter you go home, I suppose you want to marry a rich man and have babies,” Aakif assumed.
    â€œNo,” I confessed, “that’s not what I want at all. I want the independence to live as I like, to be a free woman.”
    This made Aakif smile. “So we have the same dream, then.”
    â€œIn some ways,” I agreed, returning his smile.
    Returning to my beach campsite, we stoked the fire and heated Aunty Honey’s famous gumbo. Then Aakif handed me a glass bead strung on a reed, like the one he wore. “To keep off the bad juju,” he said.
    I turned the bead over in my hand. It was a deep blue. The glass was full of air bubbles and was a little uneven, so it was obviously handblown, possibly very old. “Will I need this to protect myself from Aunty Honey?” I asked.
    â€œI don’t think so,” Aakif answered, though he sounded uncertain. “She is not a bad woman, only a powerful one.”
    Aakif tied the beaded reed around my neck. “A girl who floated to safety across the wide ocean in a barrel most likely doesn’t need a bead to help her. But just the same, I want you to have it.”
    After our supper, we sat by the fire, watching the waves. Aakif took hold of my hand, which thrilled me at first, but soon came to feel very natural.
    â€œWould you like to hear a song I know?” I asked him. “I sang it while I was floating in my barrel.”
    â€œAbsolutely, yes! Sing it for me.”
    Fighting a moment of self-consciousness, I leaned back on my arms and sang out: “The water is wide, I can-not cross o’er. And neither have I the wings to fly …”
    When I was done, I asked him, “Did you like it?”
    He was looking at me deeply. “Very much. If you were with me, I would never let you sink.”
    In my mind, I heard the end of his sentence, which he was thinking to himself. Never ever let you sink, beautiful sea sprite. I will always take care of you.
    Squeezing his hand, I rested my head on his strong arm for just a moment before straightening again.
    With a reluctant sigh, Aakif released my hand and rose to his feet. “I