Woman Overboard

Chapter 9 : Never (2)

Afiba

August 27th, 1820

(8:06 AM)

Afiba knew something was wrong the moment she heard the scream.

Of course, she had already heard Hany scream this morning, and while it concerned her and made her stomach clench with anxiety, never did she feel the cold shiver in her spine that rushed through her now. This was a different kind of scream. This was pure depression, pure hopelessness, pure despair. It stretched out first as a long, meaningless wail. Then it took the shape of words.

"Don' let them take me!" Hany cried.

Afiba's heart ceased to beat for a moment. Time stood still, and she saw her life, that moment, in its entirety. She felt Aless's arms around her shoulders, felt the captain's warm, bloodied hip under her hand. She heard the whine of metal on metal as her sword struck another, saw the glint of sparks as they collided. Then, behind the man, was the object of her heartbreak.

Hany reached out her hands which were bound together at the wrist, her big brown eyes locking on Afiba's. She had never seen Hany in such bad shape: her nose was bleeding, her lips were swelling, and the bones in her right hand stuck out in strange directions. Afiba couldn't stand to think what kind of pain she must be in.

Before she could stop herself, Afiba ducked under the sword and sprinted away from the duel. Time resumed and physics came back into play. Alessandra fell forward, sprawling on the ground, and Afiba's sword lodged itself in the man's knee. She left it there.

"Hany!" she screamed. "I won' let 'im take you --"

Thwack! A blow struck Hany's head, but Afiba reacted as though it had been her. She tripped, falling back with a cry of dismay.

"Hany!" she yelled again. Afiba watched her friend's arms go limp, no longer reaching for her. Her eyes rolled shut, her head lolling onto her shoulder. Afiba scrambled to her feet, but they were already gone.

She stood still, frozen in shock. Hany, her sister, her daughter, her friend, was gone, just like that. Whisked away limp as a rag doll by gruff, mean hands. Afiba wanted to cry, but tears betrayed her. She could only stand silently, dry eyed, staring at the spot where Hany had been.

Her chest felt like it was caving in. She forgot to breathe. Why breathe, if life could only exist in a world cruel enough to do this? When had evil become so routine? When had it become acceptable to whisk a girl, a child, away from her family and be rewarded for it? When had it become acceptable to do it twice?

Hany had arrived at the plantation alone. She came from Virginia, where she had an older brother, a father, an aunt, and three cousins who she talked about nonstop for the first two years. When she turned nine, she stopped.

She fell quiet for a long while because, on her ninth birthday, she received the worst beating of her life. For two weeks, she couldn't move her back without screaming in pain. For longer than that (months and months), she flinched each time someone touched her.

She snapped out of it, eventually. Reece befriended her first. He taught her how to make blades of grass whistle and how to make little dolls out of the tall leaves that grew on rice stalks.

Afiba and Abigail, whose cabins were close by theirs, grew to love her as well. At the time, she seemed decades younger than they, doe eyed and skinny as a twig. Abigail, thirteen at the time, announced that she would formally adopt Hany as soon as they were free. Twelve year old Afiba agreed: they would all three find a pretty little cabin in the woods to live in, and Afiba and Abigail would raise Hany like their mothers raised them.

That was their favorite pastime. What would they do when they were free? They all believed it would happen, and they wanted to be ready. Their mothers shook their heads and sighed, but never once tried to slight their dreams.

The plan to become pirates had begun as a far-fetched fantasy, conceived by the children during one of their early morning meetings. Afiba was there, sitting with Hany on one side and Reece on the other. Jaiye, Abby, and a girl named Jane were there as well. Abigail began telling them about a book she had read in the Brodericks' library. It was a children's book about pirates.

A week later, she stole the book and no one missed it. For the next months, they pored over its glossy pages and vibrant pictures, dreaming and scheming about what their own pirate reign would be like. Hany sat in on the conversations, but the fact remained: she was four years younger than the rest of them, the appointed baby of the family. No one thought she would go with them.

They began planning seriously when Afiba was fifteen and Hany had just turned eleven. They put together logistics and diagrams (none of which included their young friend) about the ship, supplies, and escape. Their group grew bigger, coming to include about a fourth of the teenaged slaves on the Broderick Plantation.

Some got cold feet and dropped out. Others died or were crippled over the course of the next year. Others still were kicked out for supposed betrayal or incivility. Either way, the clan of faithful pirates narrowed and narrowed until finally, the day of escape came.

That night, the crew said teary goodbyes to Hany and dictated heartbroken letters for Abigail to write to their families. And under cover of the velvety black sky, they threw themselves away from the only life they had ever known, plunging into the tantalizing darkness of possibility.

They tromped through the woods like a pack of wolves chasing their dinner. Virginia turned back less than twenty minutes in, but no one else did. They dove through puddles of water and mud, dousing themselves in whatever they could find. One of their worst fears was being caught by the slave catchers' dogs.

When morning light crept in between the trees, they slept in the trees. No one had the energy to talk -- already, two of them had fallen ill. Abigail had predicted this, as the woods of South Carolina were warm, wet, and fever ridden. She tended silently to Reece and Tom while the rest slept. Afiba stayed up too, her stomach twisted too tight with anxiety to sleep.

And so, when Hany appeared, only she, Reece, Tom, and Abigail saw it. She emerged from the trees like a deer, her frail body coated with sweat and mud.

Standing where Hany had once been, Afiba still remembered the first words out of her own mouth when she saw her: "I thought I'd never see you again."