CHAPTER TEN
The blackout was over and the cause was still under investigation. The Americans took their instructions from the South Park cartoon to “Blame Canada”, and they blamed Canada. Canada, a country that didn’t like to start trouble, but preferred to send it boomeranging back to its source, put the blame back on America. Manda watched all the news coverage with amusement. What did it matter? Either way, it was over, and there was a reasonable, logical explanation behind it that had nothing to do with Obeah. Angie wasn’t as convinced. When Manda told Angie about her silly notion, her cousin hadn’t laughed as she had expected.
“Could be,” Angie said. “Some of them Obeah people – they have the devil’s power behind them. Remember that last hurricane that did nearly mash up Jamaica? Some people think it was Obeah that cause it. I don’t disbelieve nothing.”
But by the time electricity surged through the city’s veins again and tea could once again be reheated in the microwave, Manda had to agree that it had been the best three days she had spent in New York so far. At one point, they had walked all the way to Central Park, where they had practiced cartwheels on the grass near the merry-go-round until they were dizzy and exhausted. Without television to distract them, without Sierra’s constantly ringing phones and busy schedule, the two of them were able to hold lengthy conversations on everything and nothing, just as they had before Sierra had left England.
The only fly in her soup had been finding out that Sierra and Noah once had a thing, as Sierra had described it. A thing was that short path between base attraction and a real relationship, that shaky bridge that could collapse at any moment. And their thing had quickly collapsed, but it had first lead to sex. Sex between Noah and her sister. How could Manda look at him the same way again? That was why, ever since Sierra told her about the two of them, Manda had been avoiding him. If she were about to leave the building, she would peak out the window to make sure she didn’t see him. She didn’t know what she would say if they ran into each other. Why didn’t you tell me you slept with Sierra? You couldn’t have her, so you thought you’d have the next best thing? Keep it in the family, is that it?
The blackout had given Noah an unfair advantage. He had caught Manda at a weak moment. For one thing, there was Angie’s love spell, which she now highly suspected had a lot to do with the unreasonable attraction she and Noah had for each other. And for another thing, she had been worried about Sierra that night, and still on edge about what she had heard in the hallway. Then she had felt guilty about injuring Noah in her rush to get outside. But then his kiss – it had rendered her powerless, like Superman and kryptonite. She had felt feverish and lightheaded afterwards. With all those odds against her, how could she have resisted him?
“Do you regret it?” Angie had asked, after Manda had told her about sleeping with Noah.
Manda had thought about it for a moment. “I regret the timing. Noah and I don’t even know each other, and I’m usually very cautious about these things. I don’t usually just dive into the sack with the first bloke who comes along. Blimey, Daniel and I never even got that far. But with Noah…Angie, I didn’t even recognize myself.”
“Well, you can blame it on me,” Angie said. “I never warn you about the spell.”
“No, I have to share some of the blame,” Manda sighed. “It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t let it.”
It had taken her two days before she could even bring herself to look at Daniel’s doll. And when she did pull it out of the drawer one night, she could have sworn there was a look of sadness and disappointment in its big brown eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she had told it. “Don’t you dare. You were the one who abandoned me, remember? If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be so confused right now. I’m only human.” But Daniel had never cheated on her, and she knew the reason he had left her had nothing to do with any other woman.
“Oh, Daniel, I’m so sorry,” she said, hugging the doll to her chest. “I can’t seem to help myself. I truly think it’s that spell. It’s affected me somehow. I know you’re against things like that, but you always said there were powers in the universe far beyond our comprehension. I can’t fight what I can’t see, can I?”
Noah rang twice the next night, but each time Manda told Sierra to say she wasn’t home.
“Don’t you think it’s time you stopped avoiding him?” Sierra asked her, after the second time. “I mean, he’s the one who should be avoiding you, after all, since you did knock him down the stairs.”
“That was an accident,” Manda said defensively, wishing she hadn’t told her. “And by the way, did you have to mention it on the air? Wasn’t it bad enough?”
Sierra pointed a finger at her. “My listeners love you. They think you’re hilarious.”
“Oh, marvelous. I’m a circus act.”
“Big hair and all. A woman’s hair is her clowning glory,” Sierra said. “Well anyway, Noah’s not asking you to marry him. He just wants to get to know you better.”
“I’m not ready to be known better. And besides, I’ll be going home in a few weeks. Why start something now?”
“Then don’t go home,” Sierra said. “You can get a job here. Don’t you listen to the news? They said there’s a nursing shortage.”
“I already have a job in London.”
“So what? What does London have to offer you, except bad memories?”
“I have a life there. A full life,” Manda said, with less confidence.
“Well, I think Noah is just what you need to get your mind off that Daniel. But don’t worry, I’m through with pushing you to talk to him. From now on, it’s up to you. I’ve got my own problems.”
“Thanks.”
“I got another one of those letters today.” Sierra went into her bag, pulled out a letter and handed it to Manda. It was in the same handwriting as the previous one had been, but this letter was even more threatening.
Miss Britain,
I see you still think you can take step with people. The lights come back on, but you still in the dark. But you have your fun for now, cause it won’t be long before you will wish you had stop-up your tongue. Duppy follow you to your yard and you can’t hide. And that boyfriend-boss of yours will be no help. You watch.
“Sierra, why won’t you just stop?” Manda said. “Why won’t you just drop the subject?”
“Because it’s about free speech. I do a radio talk-show, and that’s what I’m paid to do. I have the right to talk about any subject on my show, and anyone who doesn’t like it, they have the right to turn it off. If Howard Stern had been concerned about trying to please everybody, he wouldn’t be where he is now. So I can’t let myself get frightened off by threats, or I’ll never get anywhere, will I?”
“Then what about responsibility? Aren’t you responsible for the things you say? You said yourself there is power in words.”
“But what am I saying that’s so terrible?” Sierra said. “People take things too seriously.”
“And you don’t take anything seriously enough. That’s the problem. You’ve let this Sistah Britain alter-ego go straight to your head. You can’t go round casually joking-off everything. It’s frustrating, Sierra. People have feelings. They’re not your bloody dolls.”
Partly because she was a little angry, and partly because it was within reach and she wanted to get at Sierra, Manda grabbed the Nik doll from the corner of the couch and tossed it to the floor.
“Huh.” Sierra slapped her hand over her mouth. She ran to the doll and picked it up. “You’re sick,” she said, turning the doll round and round, as if she expected to see blood.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, don’t be so childish. It’s just a doll. It has no feelings, unlike the real people you insist on taunting.”
“Just a meaningless doll, is it?” Sierra said. She put the doll on a chair and stormed out of the living room. She came back seconds later carrying Daniel’s doll.
Manda opened her mouth, but closed it again, shame-faced. How did she know? She had never left it out where Sierra could see it. She felt as embarrassed as she did the time when Sierra had caught her rubbing up in bed with Raggedy Andy.
“Is that why you brought Daniel’s doll with you? Is that why you talk to it sometimes? I’m not as blind and deaf as you think,” Sierra said, holding out the evidence before her. “So, what have you got to say for yourself now?”
“If you dare mention this on your show, I’ll never forgive you,” Manda said holding her head high.
“Fine, I won’t,” Sierra said, smiling deviously. “Now why don’t you pick up the phone and give a real man a call?”
A soft thud outside the front door made them both turn around. Sierra walked over and looked out the peephole. She pulled the door open slightly.
“Oh, it’s just the newspaper,” she said. “But how strange. I wonder who brought it in?” She stepped into the hall, peered down the stairs, then picked up the paper and came back inside.
“It was probably Noah,” Manda said.
“No, his foot isn’t healed as yet,” Sierra said. “He could never get back down the stairs that fast.”
Sierra came back across the room carrying Saturday’s copy of the New York Times. As she bent over to place it on the coffee table, something slipped out and fell to the floor.
“What’s that?” Manda asked.
Sierra leaned over to pick it up, then lurched back and grimaced.
Manda looked down at the small black object, lying on the carpet beside the coffee table.
“It’s a chicken foot,” she said, gasping. It had been burnt black as if someone had held it over a flame.
“That’s disgusting,” Sierra bawled.
Manda remembered Angie’s big cauldron filled with boiling chicken feet, and a shiver went through her. No, it couldn’t be her. Angie lived all the way in Queens, and besides, how would she have gotten into the building? The front door was always locked. And from what she knew of Angie so far, she didn’t seem to have this kind of pathological streak.
“I know you hate to hear it,” Sierra said, hands on her hips. “And I know I can’t prove it, not yet anyway, but I still think this is Angie’s work.”
“Alright, I’m not saying I agree or disagree…but it is a bit strange.”
“I don’t know how she did it though,” Sierra said. She went back to the door and peaked outside, then came back. “You didn’t happen to give her keys to my flat for any reason, did you?”
“Oh, Sierra, please.”
“Well, I have to ask. How else would she have gotten inside?”
“Then obviously it’s not her,” Manda said. Although she had plenty of questions herself now. “It might be someone inside the building. Perhaps Noah. Maybe he’s secretly angry at you for dumping him for Nik. Or maybe…maybe it’s Nik. He does have a key, after all.”
“Alright, that’s enough. Nik would never do something like this,” Sierra said. “And besides, you never did give him back his key after you locked yourself out.” But Manda thought she saw a spark of doubt in her eyes. “Anyway, Nik is taking me to a play, and then I’ll be spending the night at his flat. He’s coming to pick me up soon, so I’ll thank you not to bring this up. He’ll go on the war-path if he finds out someone is coming right to the door now.”
“Then Sierra, why don’t you stay home tonight,” Manda said. “I really don’t feel comfortable staying here alone. Not when strangers are lurking about.”
“Come on, you’ll be fine,” Sierra said. “Besides, Nik is already on his way so I can’t change my mind now without a big fuss.”
“I’d rather if you’d just stay home,” Manda said, knowing it was hopeless. If she could have found a way to stop Sierra from going, she would.
“Well, as I said before, give Noah a call and go down and spend some time with him. He would love it.”
After Nik had come and spirited Sierra away, Manda put on the door’s chain-lock and turned on nearly all the lights in the flat. She sat in the living room and flipped through each section of the newspaper, looking for any type of clue that might shed some light on who might have put the chicken foot in there. She saw nothing suspicious, except black smudges in the Arts and Leisure section, between the pages where the foot had been placed. The only articles on those pages were about a new dance company, and a young soprano who had broken onto the New York opera scene. Manda skimmed through the articles, but could come up with no connection between the subjects and the foot. She folded the newspaper and dropped it back on the coffee table.
She needed someone to talk to, someone who might be able to calm her fears about the whole thing. Someone like…Noah. She picked up the phone and looked at it, then put it back down again. She went into the bathroom to tidy up a bit, and spritzed herself with a little of Sierra’s perfume. When she was done, she took her keys from her bag and went downstairs.
“Noah, how are you?” Manda said, standing at his door, trying to look and sound as casual as possible.
“Hi,” Noah said hesitantly. He had swapped his crutches for a cane, and now he leaned on it and asked her, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. How’re you feeling?”
“Pretty good,” he said, nodding. “I’ll be able to walk without this thing in a couple of weeks.”
“That’s great.”
“I’m glad to see you, Manda.”
She looked down. “Listen,” she said. “I want to explain something. I know it might seem like I’ve been trying to avoid you-.”
“No need to explain,” he said, opening the door wider. “Here, come in. I want you to hear something.”
Manda followed him down the hall and into his living room. She wondered how she would bring up the subject she had come to discuss.
Noah’s coffee table was lost under a mass of paper and notes. “I’m working on a draft of my next book,” he said, stacking the papers together in a neater pile.
“Oh yeah? What’s it about?” Manda asked.
“Love,” he said. “As it relates to fear, of course.”
“Really? What could love and fear possibly have to do with each other?” She smirked at him.
Noah grinned. He hobbled over to the antique radio. “I’ve been playing around with this,” he said. He twisted a knob and the numbers on the radio’s face lit up with a yellow glow. The radio let out a loud moan that grew louder and louder as Noah turned up the volume.
“It’s not used to being played anymore,” he said. He fiddled with another knob. As he turned the dial past the stations, between the static they heard first a German voice, then an Italian song.
Manda got up and went to stand beside him. “Noah, this is marvelous,” she said.
“That’s Rome,” he said. He turned past that station and they heard a Spanish voice rolling out what sounded like a news report.
“Here’s London,” he said, turning the dial again. The British news was on and a female voice was reporting on Americans and the Iraq war.
“Nothing really changes, does it?” Manda said, remembering how he had said his grandfather used to listen to war updates on this same radio.
Noah shook his head. “Same thing, different wars.” He twisted another knob and now they heard various AM stations from nearby. He stopped at a classic oldies station where the song “Hey There Lonely Girl” was playing.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked, touching her elbow.
“What about your leg?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine. No back-flips, I promise.”
He leaned his cane against the radio. He took one of Manda’s hands in his, put his other hand around her back and gently pulled her close. They rocked in place before the radio. She could feel his gaze fixed on her face, but she kept her own eyes focused on the buttons of his blue shirt. Her heart clip-clopped along in her chest like a runaway horse. The last time she had danced this close with anyone, it had been with Daniel. She felt that familiar wrenching guilt. Then as if surfacing momentarily from a dream, she remembered why she had come to see Noah.
“Noah, I want to ask you something,” she said to him.
“Hmm. What is it?” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead.
She felt a tingle below her belly button. “Have you ever heard of…?
“You smell so sweet,” Noah said, flicking his nose against hers.
“Did you ever hear about…?” She could hardly think straight.
“What do you want to ask?” He gave her a light kiss on the ear.
“I want…I just want to…”
Noah pressed his lips against hers and closed his eyes. One touch, tongue-on-tongue, and the question in her head flickered out like a candle.