Palmares by Gayl Jones

Palmares by Gayl Jones

Author:Gayl Jones [Jones, Gayl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780807033524
Google: wA4PEAAAQBAJ
Publisher: Beacon Press
Published: 2021-09-13T23:00:00+00:00


A Man of Wealth and Light Skin

and a Woman Convicted

of Casting Love Spells

I WENT OUT WITH OLD VERA to gather berries and birds’ eggs. That was the first time I had been out since I was brought there. When we returned a solemn man was sitting at the table. He was dressed in a black shirt and black trousers. He was sitting alone. Old Vera entered as if it were a natural thing to see him there, but I hesitated. ‘Come on, child,’ she said, and then she greeted him. He greeted her and said his name was Sobremonte.

‘Oh, you’re Sobremonte,’ she said.

I entered and closed the door. Old Vera sat the baskets of berries and ostrich eggs in a corner.

Sobremonte sat in silence. He was a short, slender man of African descent it was plain to see, but his skin was very light. And his expression, or something made me feel that he was a man of wealth as well as light skin.

‘And what has this land done to a young mulatto’s hopes?’ she asked.

He turned and stared at her, as one stares at a stranger who has discovered some secret.

‘Who is the man with clear blue eyes?’ she asked.

‘Are you a fortune-teller?’ he asked, looking at her. ‘Or have I met you somewhere before? Has Barcala spoken to you of me?’

‘I have neither met you nor has Barcala spoken of you. But have you sought redress for the wrong?’

He said nothing, then he said with sarcasm, ‘I am an irredeemable person from a long lineage of bastardies and the priesthood is inviolate. It would be eternally ruined with an infusion of my blood.’

‘Have you ever seen a mulatto priest, Almeyda?’ Old Vera asked me.

‘No,’ I said.

She laughed.

Barcala came in. ‘Sobremonte, my friend,’ he said, greeting him and shaking hands. ‘What word do you have from my brother?’

‘They should be here before dark, and the family of Martina Puerreydon.’

‘And has he sent me no message?’

‘He says you are a poor devil,’ Sobremonte said.

‘We are all poor devils,’ Barcala said.

‘Do you see the woman with blood in her teeth, surrounded by dead men’s bones? Do you come when she beckons you?’ Old Vera asked.

No one said anything, then Sobremonte said, ‘This woman knew me before I even spoke my name. Or did I speak my name? Yes. But she knew details of my life. You told her I would be here?’

‘I have not seen Old Vera, but Old Vera has seen everything.’

‘It’s most vexing.’

‘Most vexing? See how the man talks,’ Old Vera said with a laugh.

‘I have seen Old Vera in a trance, reciting lines from books in academic Portuguese, and knowing things it would seem impossible for such a woman to know in such a place,’ said Barcala.

Everyone turned to Old Vera but she disclosed nothing. After a while she said, ‘It is only through God that one travels through time and the spirit.’

Barcala had a twinkle in his eye. ‘In her younger days,’ he said, ‘she was convicted of casting love spells.



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