Page 65 of His Last Wife

“We who?” Val asked.

“Us. The people of the Fihankra.”

Nzingha’s answer was quite definitive, but it still didn’t get to what Val was really asking. She was thinking the response would do better at explaining what this was, what the people were doing living on this compound on the coast of Cuba. The Fihankra Center in Atlanta looked more like a community center, but this was an actual community. A real place where people clearly lived. How’d they all get there? Why? Val’s questions were in such number she didn’t know how to formulate even one.

“I’m here to see Jamison Taylor,” Kerry said. “I’m his ex-wife.” She pointed to Val and said awkwardly, “This is his wife.”

Val smiled at Nzingha.

“I know who you are. I know who both of you are. And I know why you’ve come, Sister Kerry. I know what you are seeking,” Nzingha answered mystically.

“Yeah, but do you know where he is?” Val countered abrasively and with a hand on her now poked-out hip.

Kerry rolled her eyes and snatched Val’s hand from her hip. “Do you know if he’s here? If Jamison is here?”

Nzingha nodded and said soothingly, “He is with us, my sister. Yes. He is.”

Those words were like a winning lottery ticket placed into Kerry’s hand. They eliminated her consuming consternation. Made her forget the purpose of this part in the mission altogether. She felt like she’d lost step and was maybe floating.

“Can you take us to him?” Kerry asked.

“It is not for me to do. But I am here to lead you to Brother Krishna,” Nzingha said.

“Why does she keep talking like this?” Val whispered to Kerry. “And who the hell is Brother Krishna?”

Nzingha, so sweet, humble, elegant, and spiritual, had a past too and she’d heard what Val had said and in that past, she was the kind of wo

man who wouldn’t’ve let that slide. Not in the present, either.

“I can hear you,” she said, with a slick smile toward Val. “And we do not curse Brother Krishna’s name. He is our leader.”

Val stepped back, befuddled.

“Leader?” Kerry said. “What about Baba Seti? Where is he?”

“Oh,” Nzingha laughed. “He is not our leader. He was simply honored to bring you here to us. Brother Krishna will help you. Brother Krishna will lead the way.”

Nzingha turned and gestured for Kerry and Val to follow her.

Val held Kerry back until Nzingha was a few feet ahead and said, “See what I mean—why is she talking like that?” Val asked jokingly, but with a hint of true criticism. “Homegirl is obviously from the Chi. What’s up with the airs?”

“Leave her alone,” Kerry whispered.

“And what the hell is this place? Do you see this?” Val asked. “Who are those people?”

“I think we’re about to find out and stop asking so many questions. You heard her—Jamison is here, so that’s all I care about right now. If I can get to him, then we can get out of here,” Kerry said lowly, but Nzingha could hear every word in their exchange.

Brother Krishna’s office in the building looked less like an office and more like some kind of apartment or lounge. The interior was an eclectic mix of bachelor swank mixed with Afrocentric furnishings—the standard masks and statues. Nothing in the room matched anything outside of it. Nzingha led Kerry and Val inside where three teenage girls were waiting to greet them.

They nearly attacked Val and Kerry with hugs and little tokens meant to pamper them and show respect. They presented them with flower necklaces that looked like Hawaiian leis and fresh fruit.

Nzingha quickly instructed the girls to give the women space and when she snapped her fingers they ran out of the room, giggling.

“Please have a seat,” Nzingha instructed. “Brother Krishna will enter.”

Val frowning and Kerry nodding, the two sat on the long leather couch set atop a calfskin rug. Immediately, the French door at the opposite side of where they’d entered opened, and out walked a brown man in an immaculate white muslin tunic and matching slacks. Unlike the other men outside, he had little scruff or work on his face. His nails were manicured. Beard neatly trimmed. He was handsome. In another place and definitely another outfit, he would have been considered fine. Nzingha’s near-giddy response to his presence made this clear.

Val looked from him to her and then at Kerry.

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