“We follow the way of the saints. It’s a more beautiful religion than the Catholic. But it’s too complicated to explain.” She motioned him to come closer. He cocked his head toward her, and she whispered, “What did my husband say to you?”

Will related the conversation. The old woman snorted and tilted her chin haughtily.

“It’s like him to ask money for doing nothing. Let me tell you what he’ll do next. He’ll tell you that he has not been able to find his fisherman and ask for another dollar to go find another fisherman. Don’t give it to him. Take my advice and now listen to me. I’ve got a cousin here, Luis Figueroa. He trades in coconuts up and down the coast between here and Havana. He’s got a big boat. I’ll talk to him and see if he can take you, and I won’t ask a peso of you. Neither will he. I am santera, I’ve made Olokun and seek Olokun’s blessings for each of Luis’s voyages, so he’ll do it for free if I tell him to.” She lowered her lips to Will’s ear. “But I will ask you to do something for me in return,” she whispered, so softly only he could hear. “I think it will be something you will want to do, but before I tell you what it is, I must speak first to Luis. All right?”

Will hesitated, uncertain about what he would be committing himself to—and his shipmates as well.

“Believe me, you will not find it an unpleasant task,” she said, sensing his reluctance. She drew back and sat up straight. “I have been waiting a long time for someone like you to come. I have been expecting you, I think. I want to say that finding you on the beach today was luck, but there is no such thing as luck. Nothing happens by accident. Do you believe that?”

Will shook his head, his recent experiences having convinced him that life, whether on land or sea, was a chain of accidents ruled by blind chance.

“Well, you will,” Rosaria forecast. “Oludomare guided you here for a reason. Think about how you came to be here and of all the little things and big things that could have prevented you from coming here. Think about that and you will see what I mean. It was destiny. What have you boys had to eat?”

“Nada,” replied Will. “Tenemos mucho hambre.”

“Vayan al bohío, Usted y su amigo. I will see that you get something. Yellow rice, black beans, plantanos. Maybe some sofrito.”

Elvira, standing by the hearth, turned to her aunt and godmother.