Jana

"Why must the sun be so hot?" asks Chebu.

Our bare arms weep from the sun's relentless rays every second we spend here. Sweat pools on my forehead and flows down my face. The corners of my eyes burn.

"Let's get out the heat. We have two more bananas to cut down. You know they cannot be yellow. Yellow ones won't last and sell as much as the green ones."

"Yes, we all know that Jana. Come now, let's carry what we have home to wash them. Remember, they don't want to see any dark marks on them. Smooth and perfect bananas make us more money," says Chebu. He proceeds to help me load some bananas to carry home.

"What are we gonna say to Mama when she sees her bananas on our head, Jana?"

"We won't have to answer Chebu. She knows the cost of the school fees."

"So she won't ask us why we chop down her bananas?" he asks.

"No, she won't."

"Jana, you are supposed to be smart. Are you sure you passed the A- level exams?"

My nose flares out. "You and the nonsense that comes out your mouth, Chebu."

"Let me help you, Jana. You are so mad, you almost let the bananas fall."

Chebu steps forward and adjusts the bananas on top of my head. He helps me place more cloth beneath them to balance the load.

"How can you do that, and the load on your head doesn't budge, Chebu?"

"Talent," he says. They don't teach you that at school, eh."

"You always tryna be funny."

"Why you always mad, Jana? The heat can make people go cuckoo. We need to get you out the sun before you turn crazy."

Chebu laughs; the sound must come from the depths of the belly. One can always hear Chebu from yards away.

"Your belly must hurt now."

"Nah. Not at all. A good laugh equals food for the soul," he says. "Why don't you ask God to turn down the oven temperature? Are we on the menu?"

"Ah, Chebu. We can ask, but God sees and knows what we need."

My sweat acts as the glue between me and my clothes, and my body craves a cold shower.

We walk by Ma Jaques' house and stop for a break. Her only daughter Effel went to school abroad a year ago after she passed her A-level exams. She never returned home. Overgrown weeds adorn the plywood walls that were formerly cream. Ma Jaques does not come out to tend to her garden anymore. She loved plants and kept her property clean. Now rotten mangoes, oranges and brown leaves cover the yard. We can barely see the house between the tall grass.

One afternoon, we heard a scream, and everyone ran to the back garden where she grew her sugarcane. We saw Ma Jaques, her face and hands toward the sky. They touched her and called her name, but there was no answer. She was statuesque, and all the sugarcane around her glowed red. A crowd gathered, and Mama told us to go home. They say that she, too, had been cursed.

"When last you seen Ma Jaques?" asks Chebu.

"Years ago. You remember that day we heard her scream?"

"Yeh. Nobody can forget that. You hear what happened to her daughter? No one has found her yet," he says.

"Mama does not want me to pay the school fees because of that. She says the eldest daughter and the household would be cursed."

"But only when they go to school abroad, Jana. They all go poof." Chebu's hands form a ball and then open.

"That won't happen to me, Chebu. We are good people that pray every day."

"You sound very sure, Jana."

"Yes. How else can we move to a better area?"

"You mean, how else can you move to a better area?" he says. "We want better for you but don't want anyone hurt. Look what happened to Ma Jaques. The same has happened to others. Some of our ancestors were bad people. They performed acts we do not speak of and made deals they should not have. Jabla loves educated women as a result."

"Shhhhhh. Don't say her name aloud. You know better."

"Okay. No more talk about you know who," says Chebu.

We resume our walk. Effel's face flashes before me. She was very happy to attend school overseas. The curse had not affected anyone for years. We were glad for her. Chebu halts my thoughts.

"Aye, mwen las," he says.

"Oh, you exhausted? Blame the fact that you can't help but talk. No wonder you feel so. You don't even take a second to breathe."

"My mouth cannot stay closed even when we eat," he says.

"Your tongue always needs to formulate words. Don't talk. Save your strength. Aren't the bananas heavy?"

"Yes. Why do you shake your head at me?" he asks.

"Beecause...Look! You see Mama over there?"

"Uh-huh. What now?" asks Chebu. "What do you want me to do?"

"Let's put the bananas down here, and we can go greet her." Chebu does a shoulder press and transfers the bananas to the ground. He helps me take my load off.

"Ah, my neck feels better now. Thank you, Chebu."

"Just remember us poor folks when you leave," he says.

"Really? Why would you say that?"

"Relax, Jana." He rubs my shoulders. "You are so tense."

We walk towards Mama. She stands near the avocado tree.

We greet her, "Good afternoon, Mama."

"Where have you two been? You both went to my garden, eh?" she asks.

Chebu stares at the ground. For someone who loves to talk, he doesn't answer.

"Yes, we cut down some of the bananas to sell tomorrow at the market to help pay my school fees. We need to go back for the rest."

Mama takes a deep breath.

"Jana, you know we want the best for you, but please stay home. Don't follow Effel and go abroad. You can go to school here. Those who stay help make our country better. Those who go never come back."

"The schools here aren't good, Mama, and you know that. A degree from a good school means a better job and more money."

"We prefer to have you here than to have more money," says Mama.

Chebu turns my way. "She won't stay, Mama. You know Jana has dreams."

"So you chop down my good bananas to help her, Chebu. What about the curse? What about us?" asks Mama. Tears roll down her cheeks. "Zot pa ka koute'."

We both hug her.

"We hear you, Mama. The curse won't affect us."

"Why not, Jana?" asks Mama.

Mama's words made me remember when the Obeah woman came to me last Tuesday. She told me to bathe myself for three days at exactly 6 a.m. She gave me a glass bottle.

"You need to trust me," she stated. Her hazel eyes and the smell of her sweet perfume lured me towards her. My body was under her control.

"You only need a few drops when you bathe," she added.

She shook the bottle and the leaves, and a worm settled on the bottom. "There's also a drop of cow's blood and holy water—to protect you and the house."

"Jana, are you okay?" Mama brushes my face tenderly. "Your thoughts seem to take you elsewhere."

"Yes, Mama. Don't worry. Your prayers have always protected me."

Mama steps back and stares at me, then wraps her arms around me.

"Okay, my daughter. Let me help y'all then. Chebu, go get the bananas. You know we must cut each hand off, wash and dry them," says Mama.

"Oh, good to know," says Chebu.

"You see. You both need Mama." She rubs Chebu's head, and he goes off to get the bananas. We do as Mama says and allow the bananas to dry away from the sun.

We hope to get at least $100—the amount of my school fees.

The corporate vendor accepts our bananas at the market the next day. Mama doesn't usually sell, but everyone wants her produce when she does. That lady knows how to grow crops well. They pay us $120. Before we return home, Mama pays for my school fees at the bank. Once we send the money, the school agrees to pay for my travels.

"Jana, you are all set now. One more week before you go to England."

"Seven days can go by fast," says Chebu. "Then you won't have to worry about me and my tongue. Don't lose our accent."

"You and that tongue of yours Chebu."

"Let me put my tongue out so you can have a good last look," says Chebu.

"Who wants to see your tongue?" asks Mama. "Spare us and put your tongue away." We can't help but laugh.

We accompany Mama to the supermarket, where she uses the $20 we have left to buy flour, beans and bacalao. Chebu offers to carry the bags.

"Such a gentleman," says Mama.

"A gentleman? Not Chebu."

"Jana, why the groan?" asks Mama.

"No reason, Mama." Chebu gets on my nerves. My eyes can't help but roll. How can my younger brother torment me so much?

We take the bus home. Now that Mama supports my move, my departure day can't come soon enough.

We go to bed early after a long day. Mama and Chebu helped make my dreams come true. What else are you supposed to feel but Joy, Jana? My eyes closed after that thought.

A young woman falls to her knees at another's feet and screams, "No, No, please." The young woman resembles Effel.

"Effel?"

"Effel?"

Effel does not hear me. She needs my help, but my feet keep me planted around the corner.

Foam forms around Effel's mouth. She attempts to speak but chokes on her words. Her face looks wet from tears. The other woman wears a colorful head wrap, and a long gold dress drapes her body. The way she stands over Effel, she must be Jabla. Who else could she be? Candles burn on the table next to them, and wooden and herbal scents bombard my nose. Feathers, bones, a machete and an empty amber bowl are also on the table.

"Effel!"

Jabla looks my way, then back to Effel. Her eyes set ablaze. Why does my chest and back hurt as though she put a dagger through me? Breathe, Jana! Breathe! She shut me up.

She says to Effel, who shakes uncontrollably, "Are you ready to offer your knowledge and body as payment?"

"What..do..you..mean?" asks Effel. The cracks when she speaks break my heart.

"As the eldest and smartest daughter, you must bear the burden of your household when you refuse to stay." She walks around Effel and grabs a green bottle off the ground. "Are you ready or not!" she yells, and Effel tenses, her body jerks forward.

Effel opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. My body shakes more than hers.

"Your blood keeps your people from hunger and death. They feed off the land and have for years because of us—because of me. They owe us, and you volunteered as payment." Jabla laughs, and Effel shuts her eyes. Water pools underneath them. "Don't cry. You should be honored. The Gods need knowledgeable women who refuse to do as they are told. The smart ones make the best hosts. "

Host? What does she mean by hosts? Why won't my feet move? She compares herself to a God. Not my God!

She grabs Effel's throat and says, "Open your mouth!" My throat suddenly feels narrowed.

Effel turns her head and reaches for the bottle. She smacks Effel's hands and grabs her by the neck. A flash occurs, and Effel's jaw drops open. She stares at the sky.

"Swallow!" Jabla commands. A snake emerges from the bottle and enters Effel's mouth. Mama's bakes and bacaloa almost make a hasty escape through my mouth.

As soon as the snake enters, Effel collapses to the ground.

"Effel! Effel!"

Jabla turns my way. She says, "You next!"

My eyes fly open. My bed feels wet. My heart pounds through my chest.

What does the dream mean? Chebu may know, or maybe Mama. The same dream haunts me day after day.

"Jana, don't go. You saw what happened to Effel."

"Dreams aren't accurate, Chebu."

"Who told you so? Yes, they are. Your dreams are accurate. Mama should know," he says.

"No, don't tell her. When she feels troubled, her blood pressure goes up."

"True." Chebu looks sad. "You're not gonna stay, huh? Even after that dream." Chebu's head rests on my shoulders.

"No. Don't worry, my brother."

"Once you reach England, call us," he says.

"Of course."

Mama and Chebu accompany me to the departure lounge. The journey takes seven hours. Books, TV shows and sleep help occupy me. After we land, a man takes me to my hotel. The school arranged my stay here because all the students must move to the dorms tomorrow.

"Jana, we are so happy you reach safe," says Mama.

"Don't forget us, world traveler," says Chebu.

"Boy, you never stop."

"Call us when you can, Jana. Just send a message to Mr. Rudolph beforehand. Hopefully, we can have a phone at home one day," says Mama.

"Yes. That would be good, so you and Chebu don't have to walk to Mr. Rudolph's."

"We won't keep you long. Sleep well, and good luck tomorrow," says Mama. "Remember, we love you."

"Sleep well," says Chebu, "muahhhh."

The call ends before they hear me express my love for them. They don't know how much my heart wants them here, too. My exhausted body succumbs to sleep.

"At last. You thought your turn wouldn't come," says Jabla.

"Oh no. Oh no. Oh no."

"You can try to run, but you won't get far," she says.

A warmth rushes down my shaky legs, and the ground around me grows damp.

"You knew the outcome, Jana. Are you scared? Get up!"

My body does as she says.

"Now. Are you ready to offer your knowledge and body as payment," she asks.

The Obeah woman told me to trust her. She offered me and my household a way to protect ourselves. Be brave Jana!

"No."

"You've become bold now." Jabla says. "But your answer doesn't matter."

"You can't touch me."

Jabla cackles. "You assume that Obeah woman came to protect you? You are supposed to be smart, Jana. Don't you see the resemblance? That was me! Your baths allowed me to prepare you for today."

My chest hurts. The tears start to flow. Mama and Chebu warned me.

"You are smart but lack common sense, young woman."

Her rugged hands wrap around my throat. "Open!" Jabla commands.

My body feels weak, and my eyes roll back. The last faces that flash before me are Mama's and Chebu's before darkness appears.

"You belong to us now," she says.