“Seen.”
“Put it in your pocket.”
She did, and when she looked up, the man’s eyes were brimming over. “I pray it going to work. Is two nannytunes we just now invent, nobody ain’t have opportunity to test them out yet. But this might be he only chance to live out he life on he own terms, so try not to make a mistake, pickney. Me and your daddy was friend. Tell he I going to be following he presently.” He turned and jogged away, leg muscles flexing with each step.
Tan-Tan peeked inside her pocket. The package was safe.
There was a big cloth bag full of Daddy’s clothes and some folded-up blankets beside it. People were coming, she could hear Nursie talking to somebody. She clambered into the trunk and tucked herself into a dark corner of it, pulling the folded blankets over herself as neatly as she could.
Somebody plopped some heavy things down round her, probably more bags for Daddy. One landed on her foot. Quietly she squirmed the foot out from under it.
“So is what he use to poison the man?” asked one of the sheriffs.
“Me nah know. Nanny say woorari, curare; something so. I wonder is where he get it?”
“Cho, me ain’t business. He coming or what?” said one of the sheriffs.
“Yes, look he here.”
In a few seconds Tan-Tan heard more sets of footsteps, her mother’s sobs, then Daddy’s gruff voice saying, “Where Tan-Tan?”
“I put she to sleep in she room, Compère,” said Nursie. “She was too distressed. She could come and see you later.”
“Seen. Then I ready. Make we go.” The trunk was slammed shut, leaving Tan-Tan in total darkness. The autocar dipped with the weight of people getting into it. Mummy’s sobs got louder. Daddy’s voice said, “Is all right, sweetness. I go come back to you soon. Look after Tan-Tan.”
The car moved off. Tan-Tan felt it turn out of the driveway then pick up speed. She rolled around helplessly whenever the car turned a corner. She hung on to the luggage, but it only slid round with her. She was starting to feel dizzy. She bumped her head. She was locked in—how would they ever find her? Suppose they didn’t take Daddy’s bags out right away? “Daddy!” she shouted, but no-one heard her over the noise of the autocar. “Eshu,” she whispered. No answer. The car lurched around another corner. She tumbled. The car picked up speed. “Eshu!” There was static like before, then a pop. Eshu clicked on reassuringly in her ear.
“What happen, young Mistress?”
“I frighten.”
“Checking… Nanny say you in the trunk of the car, child. That not good. Hold on, young Mistress, help coming soon.”
The autocar stopped moving. She heard the sound of running footsteps then saw light as the trunk was thrown open. Tan-Tan fought her way free of the blanket she was tangled in. A voice said, “Granny farts! The pickney mad or what?”
One of the sheriffs was there, and her father. They reached in and lifted her out of the trunk. Cars were zipping by. They were on the highway, parked over to the side. Daddy pulled her into his arms, hugged her hard. He was shaking. Tan-Tan hugged back. “Oh, my child, my child,” Antonio said. “Own-way just like your mother. How you convince eshu to let you do this thing, eh?”
“He never know about it, Daddy.”
“Back inside the car,” said the sheriff. He sounded angry.
They started on their way again. Should she show him the package the man had given her? She reached into her pocket and touched it, then remembered: she couldn’t do it while people were looking on.
The sheriffs sent word to Ione to come and collect Tan-Tan from the shift tower. “We ain’t go be able to bring she back for you. Our day contract done long time, and we hear the jump-up sweet down in the city.” Then they accessed the road marches that were playing in Liguanea. Songs blared out from the car’s console. The two men sang and beat air steel pan along with the tunes, ignoring Tan-Tan and her daddy.
Antonio paid them no mind, just hugged Tan-Tan and rocked her. He didn’t look good. His skin was grey with fright, and his body only trembling, trembling. “What if Quashee up and dead on me?” he whispered into Tan-Tan’s hair. “When I get my hands on that Maka…!”
They entered the city limits, seat of the Provincial Mocambo. The outskirts were deserted, every man-jack in Liguanea centre was jumping-up with the bands. The long, wide avenues lined with gris-gris palms were quiet. Dog- and mongoose-sized fetches were going peacefully about their business, searching out and devouring trash. No need to dodge people and traffic today. The larger fetches made Tan-Tan think of her minder. The big peeny-wallie street bulbs bobbed and hovered above the city, their egg shapes clustering and glowing where there was most shade, flickering off whenever the sun caught them.
The car took them past low, graceful buildings, past a wooded park with a statue of Nanny of the Maroons and one of Zumbi. They pulled up in front of the tallest building in sight. It was ugly, thick and arrogantly high. “Your hotel, Compère,” one of the sheriffs joked.
Daddy’s skin was clammy. He looked ill. “What allyou go do with me?”
“So many people you must be send here already and you don’t know what happen inside?”
“I never been inside, just by four-eye.”
“Come. Get your things.”
They all got out of the car. One sheriff hailed a chicle fetch, told it to be a porter. The fetch flipped parallel to the ground, indented its surface to hold Antonio’s luggage. They loaded it up then approached the building, which greeted them when they reached inside its detection field. “Your i.d. and business verified,” the building told them. “This Antonio Habib that you bring me must be confined here until official notice. All the holding cells free. Them start third door on the right. Please to tell me, Masters, the pickney coming in too?”
The two looked at each other uncomfortably for a second. “Yes, until she mother reach. Expect Ione Brasil, Cockpit County, mother to Tan-Tan, who is this pickney here so. Tan-Tan will have to stay in the holding cell with she father.”
“Seen, Masters. Nanny judge she go be safe there till she mother reach. Ione Brasil could enter once today and leave once.” The doors swung open for them.
Cement and bars; the whole inside of the place was only cement and bars, oui? Tan-Tan took Daddy’s hand. He held on tight. There was a long, empty corridor with big metal doors flanking each side. Some of the doors had signs on them. Tan-Tan didn’t understand all the words: TO DEPORTEES’ HOLDING CELLS; LIMITED ACCESS AREA; COURTROOM A; COURTROOM B; LOWER COURT (FOR THOSE WITHOUT COUNSEL).
The third door on the right was open. The sheriffs took them inside. The cell was bare, felt almost dead. The sheriffs took Daddy on a quick tour of its empty rooms: bedsitting room with its food dispenser; bathroom. “We going now,” they said.
The building assented. It let them out of the cell and then locked the door. The men left, fetch following them.
Daddy sat on the bed, shoved his face into his hands. “What to do, girl; what to do?” He looked so frightened, it made Tan-Tan frightened too. She went and stood by him, patted his knee. He looked up at her and gave her a shaky smile. “Come. Come and sit by me.”
She clambered onto the bed. He put an arm round her shoulders, hugged her tightly. “What a thing, eh? What a thing. I was only fighting for my dignity and now the blasted man might up and dead on me. And then what, eh?”
He rocked them both, looked off bleakly into the distance. The building’s eshu spoke from the air. “Antonio Habib,” it said, “Quashee Cumberbatch just pass away.”
“Nanny have mercy.”
“Uncle Quashee, Daddy?”