Calla pull the cover off Jonnie and him lay there all naked like the day him born. Even though him old, him still have strong wiry arms and him good leg full of muscle. Get a good look at the cripple leg, feel the stump. Is like seeing the strong and the weak of him, side by side.

‘We must first start washing on him back,’ Calla say, nudging me to pay attention.

What a surprise when we turn him over. Jonnie back covered in scars, marked up bad from the lash. Deep scars. Jagged scars crossed and crossed again. I never see it so bad. Then I remember how him always used to have a shirt on, no matter how hot the day. Must be because him felt shame.

I look at Calla to ask what happen, but she scowl at me, knock her bony knuckles on me head. ‘Not now, Willy. Not now. Your job is to watch. To listen. To learn.’

We spend a good long time washing Jonnie body from him head down to him foot. Calla show me how we must work together, one on each side, moving in circles, reaching the same place at the same time, till it seem like we putting life back into the used-up old body of cripple Jonnie. The glimmering light up and I come to understand, we giving him a blessing him didn’t get in life. Then we turn him over, start the blessing on him front.

Calla make me use water from a yabba she have beside the bed. When it get dirty, I go to throw it away, but Calla stop me. Make me throw it in the empty barrel she put outside the door.

And when the clothes get dry, all fresh, all clean, we dress Jonnie in him best clothes.

I think this is the end of the dressing business, but no. Calla snip all the buttons from the shirt. Cut out the pockets from him pants. Throw them all in the barrel. Then she sew up all the hole them, so nothing left open.

When we take a little rest, I ask Calla, ‘Why we must do the burning and washing and sewing business?’

‘Stop him spirit from trying to come back into the body. Turn into duppie.’

‘Oh,’ I say, and shake me head, remembering all the story them I used to hear as a pickney.

Like how a duppie come back to haunt Cudjau, one of the field slave them. Cudjau stole what little bit of money the duppie saved up for him daughter. Went and spent it all on rum. Every night the duppie rattled things in Cudjau hut. Threw things bout, drove him out, made him turn crazy. Calla had to do plenty of her moon magic to make the duppie go in peace.