The Jumbee Read Free

answered before Greg could speak. “His family’s all over Broadway.”
    Greg gave Danielle a cynical smile, then turned so she wouldn’t see the quick wink he shot at Esti. Esti pretended not to see as she carefully poured juice for each of them, wondering if Greg liked having a famous family.
    “My mom met my dad on a movie set in Puerto Rico,” Danielle continued, her eyes not missing a detail as Esti wiped a drop of spilled juice from the glass tabletop with the hem of her tank top. “He was born on Cariba, though, and so was I. I’m a local,” she said pointedly.
    “Hey,” Greg interrupted, “did you hear what happened to Paul Wilmuth? I saw jandam everywhere when I left school.”
    “It was awful.” Esti sank into the weathered cushion of her rattan chair. “Um . . . does jandam mean police?”
    “Yeah. A butchered version of the French gendarme .”
    “It’s not butchered,” Danielle said. “The West Indian patois is a whole different language.”
    “What do you bet Miss Rupert thinks he’ll be haunting the theater now?” Greg added. “Cariba’s newest jumbee.”
    Esti tried to hide her dismay at Greg’s cynicism.
    “Don’t disrespect Paul,” Danielle said sharply. “You know that’s not done around here.”
    “Sorry.” Greg shrugged. “I’m not saying he’s another Somand. Just trying to give Esti some of the local flavor. Some useful information.”
    Esti wrapped her hands around her icy glass, keeping her voice neutral. “I don’t understand.”
    “Ghosts are called jumbees.” Greg pointed out to the nearby island. “And that place is haunted by Manchicay’s final slave owner, Elon Somand. Be very afraid.”
    “I’m changing the subject now,” Danielle snapped before Esti could reply. “Esti, I assume you’ll be at the auditions?”
    “They’re postponed for a week,” Greg added, “in honor of Paul’s jumbee.” He shrugged at Danielle’s expression. “Are you still worried about a Legard stealing your fame?”
    “No.” As Danielle’s eyes narrowed, Esti abruptly understood the purpose of today’s visit. Danielle was checking out the competition.
    Suppressing her ever-present pang of anxiety, Esti took a deep breath. She understood about competition. She’d almost always gotten the lead back home, but she knew too well how much it had to do with her dad. She hadn’t performed in over a year, and no one—not even Aurora—understood how urgently Esti needed to shine at next week’s audition. Danielle’s dismissal was unnerving, to say the least.
    “I’m trying out for Juliet,” she said. “I guess you are too.”
    Danielle leaned back in her chair. “It’ll be interesting to see who Mr. Niles chooses.”
    Esti slowly nodded at the implicit battle line drawn between them. “Good luck,” she said softly. “It might not be either one of us.”
    “Ha,” Danielle actually laughed. “Right.”
    When the screen door rasped open, Esti spun around in relief. “Danielle and Greg,” she said, “this is my mom, Aurora.”
    They both studied Aurora in surprise, apparently not expecting bare feet and a tie-dyed skirt. “Aurora and I are about to head down to the beach,” Esti continued. “I want to learn how to swim.”
    “You don’t know how to swim?” Danielle raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “Well, at least you’re in the right place for that . The Solomons own a scuba diving shop. Maybe you can get lessons.”
    “Rodney said that Rafe might work there when he comes to visit at Christmas,” Aurora said. “He could probably teach you.”
    Danielle gave Esti a piercing look. “I’m sure Rafe would love to give you lessons.”
    “I hope so.” Esti lit up at the thought. She and Rodney’s son had been best friends in elementary school, and she was looking forward to seeing him again. Startled by the growing scorn in Danielle’s eyes, however, Esti turned away to look out at the nearby cay. “I was ten the last time I saw him,” she