The Empty Hammock (25 page)

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Authors: Brenda Barrett

BOOK: The Empty Hammock
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If events were the same, then she had not really done anything, it was only a dream, only a dream. She invested all her emotions in something that was just a dream; she leaned her head on the mirror and wondered why she should care anyway?

 

******

 

Breakfast was served on the back verandah. Ackee, salted fish, and roasted breadfruit.

Clara was eyeing her daughter as if she had a contagious disease and Carey glanced at her and then averted his eyes. .

“I am not about to spout Taino and tell you about the past,” Ana said to her family.

They both looked relieved and breakfast got a little easier after that.

“The first breadfruit tree was planted right there.” Ana pointed to a site that was near to her mother’s vegetable garden. She could not help it, she experienced something that few people did and she was not about to keep silent because her family did not believe her.

Carey and Clara looked at each other.

“This is where Orocobix’s hut was,” she looked around her, “and I think it’s ironic that the hammock we have right there, is at the same place in the past.”

Clara cleared her throat. “Ana, I don’t think you are crazy.”

“That’s a relief. Wouldn’t want to be taken from the house in a strait-jacket.”

“No need to be sarcastic,” Clara said huffily, “I just think you were so tired you dreamt of a world that your father allowed you to be fascinated with.”

“She said that the JP on the treasure chest stands for Juan Perez.” Carey winked at Clara laughing. “She was also married to a priest.”

“A chief,” Ana corrected him quickly. “I also met Cristóbal Colón. I heard him plotting to send back slaves to Spain. I also fell in love with Juan Perez and spent three hot days with him on his ship.”

Clara snickered. “Christopher Columbus was in your dreams too. How rich?”

“I also know of a place where we can find gold.”

Carey stopped laughing and looked at his sister. “What you say defies the imagination, sis. However, if we can find gold, I will believe you even if you say that the tooth fairy gave you a BMW. I will also believe you if you say that Santa Claus bought your apartment.”

“I don’t know how to prove where I’ve been,” Ana said dejectedly, “the landscape is different from in the fifteenth century; we should all take a drive to the cave.”

Carey and Clara agreed. “Whatever you say.”

“We are long overdue for a family trip anyhow. Where would we go, pray tell?” Clara asked.

“To Maima.”

“Never heard of that place,” Carey frowned. “Do we need airline tickets?”

“It’s at Seville, where the Great House was once surrounded by a large Taino village. Their Chief, Oromico had eight wives. There was a large waterfall at the bottom of the village, which had a long cave underneath, in the rocks are gold veins.” Carey felt goose bumps on his hands, his sister was talking with such certainty he could almost believe her.

“You always had a vivid imagination,” Clara said feeling a little bit afraid herself. Ana was so intense. “Anyway, we’ll see what’s in the treasure chest and then discuss the trip after you see that wonderful man called Peter Shingles.”

“I think I am going to lie down under the palm trees,” Ana said distantly.

They watched her walk forlornly to the empty hammock and then lowered her body dejectedly into the soft folds of the cotton.

“One word,” Clara said looking at her son, “help.”

 

******

 

Ana closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep to the place where dreams seemed to be better than reality, but she could not force it, she was wide-awake and not the slightest bit sleepy.

She stared at the landscape and thought about the past. She felt mixed up inside. Did Orocobix leave Bieke? Did Juan return to Spain?

She fell in love with two men in three days and she felt as if she had lived a lifetime. Probably most people fall in love with the people in their dream world.

Imagine her seeing a psychiatrist. She laughed out loud.

A psychiatrist. What utter irony.

She was the most sensible person she knew, with all her faculties working. She watched the sky through the trees. She knew she went back to the past, and there was nothing anybody could say to convince her otherwise.

She wanted to know what Juan Perez had left in the treasure chest. They were all anxious. Her mother was on tenterhooks, checking the driveway every second for the welder when eleven o’clock came and went.

The welder came at twelve and Ana tried hard not to look too anxious.

“You should read some of the things Dad wrote.” Carey was saying to Ana, when the welder arrived.

“The name is Terrence Black,” he was saying at the doorway to Clara. Carey and Ana were crouching over the chest and did not look up when he came onto the veranda. “My father is actually the welder, I am the manager but I am very handy with the tools.”

Clara murmured that she was pleased that he could come and then Ana looked up.

She gasped, he was about six two and his honey-toned skin was a wonderful compliment to his deep brown eyes and tightly curly hair. He had on jeans and black t-shirt.

“Orocobix,” Ana said softly. He looked exactly like the chief in her dream, except for the skin tone and the hair.

Ana stood up on shaky legs and tears sprang to her eyes.

Terrence looked at her and his brows arched questioningly.

“Ana sit down,” Clara hissed, looking at Carey helplessly.

“That’s a pretty name,” Terrence said smiling at her slightly, his eyes curiously alight. The girl was beautiful but she seemed to have some issues.

Ana sat down, her brain whirled and she watched as he dragged the treasure chest outside and applied a tool to the top. His muscles bunched under the t-shirt and she sighed.

How can it be? Is this evidence that they survived? Or is this evidence that she’s crazy?

“And it’s off,” Terrence said after five minutes. Clara and Carey almost ran to the chest, Ana walked more sedately, staring intently at Terrence who was packing up his tools.

“Oh, look at this Ana.” Clara held up chunks of yellow metal, her eyes glowing with glee.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

 

Ana peered in the treasure chest and saw that it was covered with gold. There was nothing but gold and she felt strangely disappointed. She wanted there to be more. Some proof that the chest belonged to Juan Perez.

Terrence stood beside her and remarked, “You look disappointed.”

Ana looked at him and realized that she was staring at him too long. “Uh…I wanted some indication that it belonged to somebody.”

“Who?” Terrence asked seriously.

“Juan Perez,” Ana whispered. It hurt to look at Terrence. He was her dream in a modern setting.

Terrence looked slightly puzzled. “Well, I will leave you rich folks to your celebrating.” He had a mountain of work to do at the office; the new hotel they were building was giving him more trouble than it was worth and to make matters worse, he had to take over his father’s fledgling business while his parent drank himself into a stupor.

“How should I pay you?” Clara asked looking at the handsome young man. “In gold?” She held up a nugget. “I still can’t believe this.”

“Regular currency will do,” Terrence said smiling, “it’s not every day I open a treasure chest.”

“Look at this,” Carey who was kneeling over the treasure chest and lightly massaging the gold, found a book. It looked like a journal. The outer cover was slightly suede, as if made from animal skin.

Ana took the journal from Carey who was staring at his sister weirdly.

“What is it?” Ana asked Carey

“It says here, the journal of Juan Perez.” He peered at the curled writings and the old Spanish, “it’s dated March 1, 1534.”

Ana clutched the book to her bosom and walked to the veranda.

Clara and Carey walked behind her. Ana sat on a chair, and still clutched the journal. Terrence followed closely behind, he was fascinated despite himself, he was not an overtly inquisitive person but the strange way Ana acted was intriguing.

They all sat in chairs, surrounding a trembling Ana.

Carey clutched his fingers, he was itching to take the journal from his sister and read it.

He finally succumbed because Ana was just sitting there numb. He took the book from her nerveless fingers.

“Do you want something to drink?” Clara asked to no one in particular.

Nobody answered; they were staring at Carey who opened the journal reverently.

 

May 5, 1494

We landed at a place the natives call Xaymaca but Colón called it Santiago. It is the most beautiful island we have seen so far…the Chief is intelligent, learns very quickly, introduced himself as Orockaby, and has a wife named Ana.

 

Clara gasped; she sat very still on the chair.

Carey stopped reading, his eyes resting on his sister. “No, it can’t be.”

Ana shrugged. “Keep on reading please.”

Terrence sensed the tension in the air and looked intently at the family before him. There was a story here and he was anxious to hear it.

 

May 6, 1494

Ana, whose name means ‘flower,’ is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, in any race. She has captured my heart and I will never be the same. Driven by the love in my heart, I took her from her husband’s house at daybreak.

Kicking and screaming, she came with us, denying the love that surely she must feel between us. We spent three glorious days together, which were the best days of my life. This was a capsule of time that will never be replicated. However, who knew that the Chief would fight so hard to reclaim his woman.

They followed us for three days and a storm developed. She perished in the sea after a particularly strong wave. I was so heartbroken I could not function for days. My captain, Pablo, cannot cheer me up. I want to go back to Bieke, the village by the sea, to find out if by any chance she could be there. I despair that I will love her forever.

 

Carey looked up at Ana; “there is no way you could have known that unless you read this.”

“Isn’t it curious, that you share the same name as this person in 1494?” Terrence asked.

“No,” Ana looked at him smugly, “my father named me from her. He always swore that we had an ancestor in the days of Colón, named Ana.”

“Read more Carey,” Clara said shaking her head dazedly.

“The ink on this is very blotched we will have to give it to somebody to restore.”

Ana hissed anxiously, “Read the good pages.”

“Well let me see.” Carey held up the journal gingerly.

 

July 16, 1494

I returned to Xaymaca to the same spot where her village was but she was not there. There was no village. The morning light did not reflect that people lived there. There was just emptiness, a curious emptiness that threatened to overpower me. I sunk dejected into the empty hammock that was left between two palm trees.

I felt an overwhelming sense of loss. Pablo could not comfort me. I suppose the Chief and his men had also perished in the storm and that the people went to join another village.

I could track them down but I know not where to go in this wild jungle of a land. I will leave the new world, but I will never forget her.

 

“These pages are not easy to read and the Spanish is even harder,” Carey said, to his anxious sister, as she got up to pace. “Okay here is another entry.”

 

May 5, 1495

It has been a year since Ana, and like a fool, I left Spain and the warmth of my family to go to the exact spot where her village was. My heart was not healing fast enough. There were nights when I would awake and she would be there smiling at me. I am not able to concentrate since returning to Spain.

My father and mother are busily preparing for my marriage to Sofia, Condesa of Ripola. It is widely known that I made a fortune in the new world and old matrons are anxious for me to marry their daughters. Sofia is the best option from many bad ones.     Now, I have a proclivity for long jet-black hair and sloe-shaped eyes.

The Condesa’s blond locks should keep my mind in Spain, I reasoned countless times, but here I am in this shrub-covered ground where my true love lived.

Pablo stands at a respectful distance.

 

May 7, 1495

I sleep on my ship at night and by day I would go back to the village site, hoping for a sign. Today, I was mildly surprised when I heard the whimpering of an animal, Pablo and I searched and we found a baby in a basket. My heart tripled its beat when I looked on its face.

He had startling green eyes. A miniature me. I had a son.

I took him up and looked around. I knew she was near, that she had not died. I thanked God for the miracle in my arms. We searched the grounds frantically for weeks, but to no avail. Pablo suggested that maybe Ana simply wanted me to have the baby and that she made her choice to be with her people. I finally believed him after our supplies began to run out and my fear that my child was not well. I return to Spain with mixed feelings.

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