‘Yes, Willy,’ say Calla. ‘Is why me tell you to bury him deep. Jonnie live in unhappiness during the day. Is why him drink bitter cassava every night.’

‘Is that what kill him?’

‘No,’ she sigh. ‘Jonnie die from woman fever. A fever that never end.’

‘Me never see Jonnie with no woman.’

‘Is a long time ago now,’ Calla say, filling her clay pipe. ‘When Jonnie was two-legged, him fall in love with a young field slave, name Flora. She pretty as can be. All the men lust after her. Specially Jonnie. Me wouldn’t be surprised if Old Massa William lust after her himself.’ Calla take a pause. Get me to light a twig from the embers of the fire, pass it to her. Smoke up her pipe. ‘Jonnie think because him head driver, Flora going look to him. Be proud to be him wife. But …’ she say, puffing away, ‘she fall in love with Quashie. A slave same age as her, from another plantation. In dem days Old Massa William, him always jobbing out slaves to bring in a little extra money. That how they meet. And the first we all hear bout this love business is when Flora gone missing. Discover she run away with Quashie.’

‘Dem escape?’ Hoping them did.

‘Get as far as Kingston before the slave hunters catch up with dem. Poor little things,’ Calla say, shaking her head. ‘Too young, too foolish. Think love going save them. Don’t know must stay well hidden for a long, long time before Massa going forget bout dem.’

‘So what happen?’

‘Quashie get shot in the back when him try to run. Only live for a few more days. And the slave hunters, they just drag Flora right back here. Pick up a big reward. Old Massa William, him plenty vexed. Brand her a runaway, on both cheeks. Got Jonnie to flog her. And him do it with a vengeance. After that, Flora turn wild. Offer herself to every man. Any man, not Jonnie. One day we find her floating face down in the river. No one know what happen, but we can guess. Must be Jonnie doing. Old Massa William, well him think so too. Have him flogged, set an example.’

Calla take a long draw on her pipe. I see a sadness rise up in her.

‘Old cripple Jonnie, him never the same. Turn mean. Full of cruel sorrow. Keep to himself. Yes,’ Calla say, sucking on her pipe. ‘Jonnie duppie going come back for sure. Must do plenty hard work to calm him sad and angry spirit. Lead him to find peace.’

Up in a tree a patoo start hooting. Swoop down low, fly off over our heads. Make me edge a little closer to Calla.