War, page 19
The room stilled, but Seela barely noticed. She was back in time.
***
New Island, Charleston SC~ 16 years ago...
“Your parents know where you are, girl?”
Seela moved from the tree trunk where she had spied on Bronson Guthrie V for the past three minutes. “Bin knows,” she said. Moving from the trunk, she came toward the clearing where the man had a small fire going.
A lawn chair, tackle box and two coolers completed the intimate campsite. A rifle rested across a wide, waist high tree stump in the distance. One of the coolers was filled with ice and beer-several empty cans and bottles were already scattered outside it.
“Well git on back to her,” Bronson Guthrie cast a disinterested look across his shoulder at Seela. “I don’t need to hear it from her ‘bout you bein’ where you don’t belong,” he turned back to the fish he squatted near the fire to clean.
“Why did you do that to us?” Seela’s lost little girl tone seemed to echo across the clearing to mingle with the consistent scrape of the knife being used to remove the fish scales.
“Needed to be done,” he said, needing no clarification about what Seela referred to. “Reminders are needed every now and then to keep folks in line.”
“How could you do that to your own?” Seela moved further into the clearing.
“Get on way from here ‘lil girl!”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Bronson Guthrie finally pushed to his feet and gave Seela the benefit of his attention. “Girl, I done told you I ain’t got time for-”
The sight of the little wisp of a girl with his long rifle, had him frozen where he stood.
Guthrie raised his hands slowly in a staying motion. “Calm yourself, girl. I don’t want no trouble-”
“No trouble?” Seela spat. “We didn’t want any trouble, but that didn’t matter, did it? You came after us for no reason other than stupidity and hate-”
“Oh I had reason ‘lil girl! And just so you have all the facts-they came after me! Sixteen years come and gone and they wanna take me down over somethin’ over and done with.”
“Over and done with-what-?”
“Ain’t none of your business ‘lil girl, now just hand over-”
Seela drew back on the rifle’s hammer, readying the weapon to fire.
Guthrie pushed his hands higher, and retreated. “Easy girl...”
Seela advanced, holding the long gun as steady as her maple gaze. Guthrie’s eyes flared in acknowledgment of the very real danger he was in.
“You should’ve left us alone.”
“And what about them?” The big man nearly whined. “They could’ve let it go. What happened with me and Carly was our business. She was my wife.”
“Carly.” Seela’s grip eased on the heavy gun. “Miss Carlotta. Fray’s mom-”
“She was mine,” Guthrie ranted. “Thought she could run off with my boy ‘cause she didn’t like the way we did things here. We woulda worked it out too if it weren’t for that fast friend of hers. You Desmond bitches should learn obedience. I taught her some obedience, though. I taught ‘em both.”
Seela’s jaw dropped. “Marguerite,” she whispered the name of her father’s first cousin.
Seela was close enough to Guthrie with the gun, so he could reach out and grab the barrel. He was launching to do just that when Seela snapped to and angled the barrel just out of his reach. Guthrie staggered, losing his footing where he’d retreated a little too far. Seela clutched the gun as she watched the man struggle for his balance. She felt no inclination to assist.
“Maybe I could’ve helped...” Seela emerged from the memory.
The room was silent, but for the frequent pop and crackle of the fire and the occasional breath or sniffle from her audience.
“I didn’t want to help,” she continued. “After all he did...I wanted him gone. I watched him fall and then I ran,” Seela squeezed her eyes shut as the memory flooded her mind.
“He said he did what had to be done. When he fell I-I guessed I’d done what had to be done too. I was just like him only worse. He took your mother-he took both your mothers, but Fray...It was me who made you an orphan.”
“Seela.”
Seela shook her head defiantly to Bin’s call. “I know what you’re gonna say, Bin. But I’m the reason he went over that cliff.”
“Bin?” Ellia was frowning. “What is it?”
“Seela.” Bin called again, then looked at Fray when Seela remained mute. “Your father went over that cliff, but he didn’t fall. Not right away-”
“It doesn’t matter, Bin, I-”
“I’m speaking now, Seela Desmond.” Bin’s tone brooked no argument. “I went to look for her after that mess with your brothers,” she spoke to War and Zyon then. “I came up on Bron’s campsite. Your daddy was calling for help-sounding like a baby,” she told Fray as her expression hardened.
“He toughed right up when he saw me, started rantin’-no remorse. I knew if he made it back up over that cliff, the island would never recover. I kicked him. He was a good swimmer, but the water was shallow at that end of the island and there were jagged rocks beneath...I knew he wouldn’t survive. I hoped he wouldn’t. The fault wasn’t Seela’s. It was mine.”
“It’s no one’s,” Fray said. “My father set himself up for this a long time ago. Maybe even before what he did to our mothers,” Fray had already pulled El close and was rocking her as she cried into his chest.
“Your brothers. My cousins,” he looked at Zyon and War now. “If we’re blessed, they’ll be put away for a long time.”
“Amen to that,” Zyon said,
“The people they victimized,” Fray continued, “they’re on a path to recovery and for some, a reunion. My father is gone and those who sided with him know they’ll be put down if they ever try to resurrect the insanity he supported. They’ll be answering for their part in this soon enough. Bronson Guthrie and his followers are the ones responsible for every negative thing that’s gone down here,” Fray’s voice carried a resolved tone. “Agreed?” he looked to War, Zyon, El, and Moira.
“Agreed?” he asked again while the others nodded. His eyes were fixed on Binta and Seela.
Seela hesitated. She looked at Bin and reciprocated the patient smile the woman gave. She turned back to Fray and nodded. “Agreed.”
Moira broke the heaviness of the moment with a dramatic sigh. “I think I could eat a little something,” she said.
“We know you can,” Zyon countered and laughter defeated the last of the somber element that permeated the room.
Bin kissed War’s forehead and smoothed her hand across his dreads drawn into a low ponytail. She tugged the covers in place around him and then went to Seela, taking her by the hands.
“Are you alright, sweet girl?”
Seela nodded. “Much better now. Thank you for everything, Bin.”
Bin kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Love. War? I’ll have lunch sent up to you soon, Sugar,” she called.
“Yes ma’am,” War said, sounding every bit the little boy. There was no trace of that element however when he called to Seela once they were alone in the room.
“You’re supposed to be recovering,” she noted, playfully eyeing the bandages he wore.
“Don’t worry, I can handle you.”
“You think so? Still? After everything I’ve put you through?”
Some of War’s playfulness receded. “You had to be part of it. I get that.”
“Still doesn’t erase the fact that I got myself into some big trouble,” she moved closer to the bed. “Seriously screwed with your strategy,” she added.
He reached out suddenly, making her laugh when he yanked her down to the bed. The gunshot wound to his arm had obviously done little to zap his strength.
“Can I ask you something?” he said once she was in his arms. He kissed her forehead when she nodded.
“Did you ever ask yourself why it took you so long to remember what happened with Jock? When you did remember... how long would it have been before the full weight of it was clear if Sco hadn’t said what he did in that cellar?”
“You’re asking whether I needed all those knocks upside the head?”
“I would’ve preferred you being the one delivering all the knocks, but...yeah, I think the jolts could’ve been blessings in disguise- that sound weird?”
“No, I get what you mean. Can I ask you something?” she brushed her lips across his jaw when he nodded. “Do you think it was better for El and Fray to know the full truth after all this time?”
“I think they’ve always known,” War shifted a dark look toward the bedroom door. “I think that’s why Bin never told them the full truth. She didn’t want to drive the nail deeper.”
“Like I just did.”
“Seela-”
“No, it’s fine War. I’m not putting it all on my shoulders again. Fray was right. I wasn’t to blame. Bin once told me she thought of talking to the parents about sending the boys away long before the brandings. A lot of people were sick of Fray’s dad- all his preaching to the boys about the ancestors’ expectations. Those expectations-the way he saw them, were to close out the world and get rid of anyone unworthy to be part of the island- a place that was to be a home to all of us. When Scofield said Bron Guthrie’s death was the spark...all I could think of was how I’d ruined any chance for Fray, El, Moy, Zy...”
“And you and me?” War quietly put in.
Seela nodded.
“But now you see that’s not true. Never was?”
Seela nodded again, curling deeper into War’s chest as relief and security swelled. “It was never in my hands- in any of our hands. It was always going to happen the way it did- one way or the other.”
“And now?” War asked.
Again, Seela curled into his solid frame. “Now, all any of us can do is be glad it’s over and that we came out on the side we did.”
“Sounds good...” War sighed, though a glimpse of skepticism flavored his words. “I personally think there’s more we can be doing than just that.”
“Agreed,” Seela didn’t pretend to misunderstand, even while she too sighed. “Regrettably, those things are best done by people not recovering from gunshot wounds.”
“A challenge, Ms. Desmond?”
“A fact, Mr. Noble.”
“So you’re saying I’m not up to doing anything over the top?”
Seela shrugged, pretending to consider her reply. “Not too over the top.”
“And what would you say is too over the top?”
“What um...whatever you’re thinking of...doing on this bed.” The intensity of his gray on onyx gaze had pushed her heart right into her throat.
“I see,” War noted and in seconds, had her beneath him on the bed. “How about if I was thinking of asking you to marry me?”
“Oh, I-” she blinked rapidly. “I um...I’d say that’s pretty strenuous stuff.”
“Agreed,” he lowered his face to the side of her neck and began to quietly devour her earlobe. “You gonna make me over-exert myself for an answer?”
“Your answer is yes, but feel free to over-exert yourself...”
“Happily, Ms. Desmond.”
Seela freed his dreads and laughed when they tumbled forward to shelter them.
“Happily...” War sighed.
~Epilogue~
New Island, Charleston SC~ 1 year later...
“I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Seela and Warwick Noble!”
Deafening applause and cheers livened The Taylor ballroom as War and Seela, arm in arm, took their first walk down the wide, white-carpeted aisle as man and wife.
The ballroom swarmed with guests that included members of the New Island family who had long since left the island and vowed to never return. Also in attendance, were newer members of the family- those from Buetree Island. Those whose futures had once been mired in fear and uncertainty, now laughed, danced, and cheered as loudly as anyone.
The newlyweds’ glee was as abundant as it was contagious. War and Seela laughed while they sprinted the long aisle. That laughter intensified each time one of them stumbled amid the voluminous folds of Seela’s wedding gown.
War and Seela weren’t the only newlyweds in attendance on that late fall evening. Ellia and Frayzer Guthrie had just returned from a two-month honeymoon getaway. Moira and Zyon Hammond had postponed their getaway as they were busy becoming parents. The newest and most adorable addition to the family, Zaire Moises Hammond, dozed contentedly in the arms of his great-grandaunt Binta.
The long train of well-wishers parted at the end of the aisle to make way for the couple to take to the floor for their first dance. War and Seela barely swayed at first, as the seductively sweet strains of Lauryn Hill’s “Nothing Even Matters” began to grip the room.
“Are you believing it yet?” War asked, speaking against the back of his wife’s hand which he’d held to his mouth since they took to the floor.
Seela gazed dreamily at her husband. She adored his magnificent features made more devastating with his long dreads pulled back from his face and secured by a thick, satin band that matched his tailored white tux. “Getting there,” she said.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Oh...you’re doing that already.”
War chuckled, then sobered a little. “I love you, See-See.”
“I love you, War.”
They swayed in time to the music for a while.
“You know, I heard a rumor that there’s a house somewhere on the island with our names on it.”
“Oh yeah?” Seela’s eyes gleamed with playful doubt. “How good are your sources?” she asked.
“About as excellent as you can get,” he said.
“Bin!” Laughter followed when they spoke in unison.
“There’s no pressure, See-See,” again, War was first to sober. “Just because Fray and El and Moira and Zy are staying, doesn’t mean we have to. We can live under a bridge for all I care. If you’re with me, I’m home.”
“That’s just how I feel,” Seela vowed. “Only thing that could come close to that feeling is having the others as neighbors.”
War looked relieved. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“Why?” She demanded in a thoroughly teasing tone.
“It’s just...” a muscle danced in his cheek before he continued. “You always visited Bin when the place was pretty quiet.”
Seela’s expression reflected a serious undercurrent as well. “She was the only one who knew my secret- knew it, was part of it. Part of me needed to be here- to spend time with her. But when anything too...intense from the past crept in, I ran fast as I could. I didn’t even remember what I was running from- just that I needed to run.”
War pressed a kiss close to the elaborate chignon Seela wore secured by a diamond-studded comb. “Those memories will always be with you-maybe stronger if we stay. We’ve got a lot of great memories to work with now, but still...”
It was true. Keene Hammond and Jock and Scofield Noble were sentenced to 40 years for Human Trafficking. The VanStys and Sheriff Lloyd Belk were serving life sentences for the same charges, plus a sentence for the murder of Justine Renneaux. Grocer Carl Greeley, VanSty henchmen and other associates had gotten lesser sentences of 30 years with the possibility of parole after 20 years. Yes, great memories indeed.
“Could you handle it, See-See? You say you’re good now, but if it ever gets to be too much- if you ever need to leave in order to forget, all you have to do is say the word.”
She smiled, loving him more than she thought possible. “Oh, I can handle it, Warwick Noble,” she gripped him by the lapels and pulled him down for her kiss.
“And I don’t want to forget,” she said once she’d let him up for air. “I don’t want to forget a thing. Ever again.”
**********************
Dear Reader,
Thank you for joining me on this adventure! Of all my series and titles, this storyline has been among my more unique works. I’ve been eager to see this through since first envisioning the idea of merging past with the present on a private island settled by freed slaves and nurtured by their descendants.
The Tradition storyline has evolved with each book in the series. At the onset, the issue at hand was the brandings. The horror of breeding slaves and trafficking didn’t come until much later. I fully agree that strong characters dictate the path of a story. Including the horrors I just mentioned, made so much sense for this story. I’m glad my characters took me there.
In a perfect world, a culmination like the one you’ve just read is possible by the willpower and efforts of a determined few. In the real world, we know that such triumph often takes more than a determined few. The actions and voices of many and the decision to not look away, are crucial if such horrors are to ever become things of the past.
Please share your thoughts, whatever they may be. Write a review or give a book rating, share your opinion on social media, by word of mouth or send me an email.
Thanks so much for diving into these stories. I am so proud of this work, proud to share it with you and honored to count you among my loyal readers.
Blessings,
AlTonya
altonya@lovealtonya.com
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THE TRADITION SERIES
TRADITION BOOK I
LEGACY BOOK II
WAR BOOK III
An AlTonya Exclusive
AlTonya Washington, War
