Free Spirited Away - A Novel of the Stolen Irish by Maggie Plummer Page B

in dark clothing, in the hopes it would help keep them hidden
in the night.
           With
a quick squeeze of her hands, he was gone.
           Freddy
stood in the doorway, arms tightly folded across her chest, as he made his way
across the compound to the edge of a mature cane field that was terraced to the
sea. The tall stalks would hide him from view as he crept down to the water.
Silent and motionless, she watched him walk into the cane. He turned once to wave.
She waved back and he disappeared into the long, inky shadows.
     
     
    She
walked along the narrow track that was crowded on both sides by soaring cane
that rustled in the night breeze. Anxiously scanning the fields around her as
best she could, her heart aching and hammering, Freddy turned left and climbed
out onto a small ridge of unplanted land that separated two large cane fields.
There would be no sleep for her this night. She had decided that if caught out
here, she would pretend to be disoriented and claim that she must have been
sleepwalking.
           From
the edge of the ridge top, in the shadow of an ironwood pine, there was a clear
view of the cane fields that descended like giant stairs to the curving white
strand and the shimmering sea. The moon was now higher and brighter. A nearby
hedge laden with pink wild roses threw its fragrance into the night and she
took a deep breath to calm herself. Several tall fan palms swayed next to a
solitary, monumental bearded fig tree with long roots hanging from its
branches. Next to the wild roses was an orchid tree abloom with purple flowers
that looked gray in the moonlight.
           She
sat cross-legged in the grass under the pine, turning her eyes to the sea. A
sudden movement in the trees made her jump. Springing to her feet and whirling
around, she came face to face with a pair of monkeys that stared and blinked at
her from their black faces. Holding one hand over her racing heart, she tried
to catch her breath. She had heard tales of these mischievous gray creatures.
Perhaps she had awakened them from their slumbers in the bearded fig's lower
branches. Their black faces were framed by bright white fur that matched their
underparts.
           "It's
only me," Freddy whispered to them.
           They
just blinked and yawned.
           Sitting
back down, she studied the sea. That distant line of white would be the surf
breaking on the island's coral reef. She faced west and looked slightly north,
imagining the island of Montserrat, where Colin and the others hoped to land.
Choking back more tears, she made a fervent Sign of the Cross and vowed to
follow him there. The island of St. Kitt's, where Aileen had gone, was also to
the northwest, she had been told. Would her sister receive the letters Freddy
had written and sent with Father Sean? She must find her Aileen someday. She
must!
           Which
direction was her homeland? How many thousands of miles of open sea lay between
her and her beloved E ́ir e? None of the Irish
she had met here knew of anyone who had made it home. It was too far, the price
too dear. Oh, to see her loved ones again! How fine it would be to talk to Mam
and ask all the questions swarming in her mind about having a child.
Scrutinizing the water below, Freddy leaned forward and wrapped her arms around
her belly, thinking of her babe. Mam would hold her hand reassuringly as they
talked and talked. A sharp jolt of loneliness stabbed Freddy's chest and again
she covered her heart with one hand. She imagined hugging Firewind's sweet neck
and tasting Mam's crunchy brown bread fresh from the oven, with melted butter.
She realized that her upper body was rocking.    
           Then
she saw it, close in – a dinghy with oars sticking out both sides, bobbing on
the silver water. They were on their way then. Even this close, the miniscule
vessel was barely more than a dot in the midst of the luminous sea, under the
tropical autumn moon. She crossed herself