Chapter 16
I turn to Miguelito with alarmed eyes. He's looking at me with the same expression. My ears throb with the loudness of the explosion and my mouth is dry.
"What could've happened?"
His expression bleeds worry as he eyes me intently. "I don't know. I don't know why that landmine exploded."
"What do we do?"
"Wait here," he tells me. "I'm going to find out what happened. Don't move away from here unless absolutely necessary," he says, rushing away from me.
"Be careful," I call after him.
I decide that I need to hide. Who knows who could be in the jungle at this time? I find a leafy bush and hide behind it. It's the best I can do if I want to stay in the same area Miguelito left me at.
In order to calm my rapidly beating heart, I look at the bright stars and think about my mother. Is she watching them too? Then I go over sentences and math in my head. Before long, I hear footsteps but I don't leave my hiding place just yet. What if they don't belong to Miguelito?
"Monica," a loud whisper reaches my ears.
With relief I answer back, "I'm right here, Miguelito." I stand up from my hiding place.
"Paradise Village is in chaos. It's the perfect time to get back."
"Chaos?--what do you mean? And what was the explosion?"
"I'll explain later. Let's go or we'll lose our window of opportunity."
I follow him with blind trust. It's all I can do. My heart stops thumping so erratically once we get past the area where I had left Paradise Village and are back in slavery. No one is there. Miguelito continues his swift stride.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask, whispering. We aren't going in the direction of the destiny-bride shack."
"Don't worry."
"I can't go to Master Smythee's place," I tell him. Betsey would never allow me back in the house.
"We aren't going there."
"I don't understand."
"Trust me."
We move swiftly to the center of town. What is this guy up to? My eyebrows come together in a deep question when I finally am able to discern the odd scene a few yards from us. In front of the town hall, where meetings of the Elders are held, there seems to be every citizen of Paradise Village. They are just standing around with frightened expressions.
"There you are, Monica!" exclaims the Mister, relief in his voice.
I stare at him, my mouth completely dries out. He must've found out that I had tried to escape.
"I-I-I told M-M-Master Barstowe th-th-tha--"
"Miguelito told me that he saw you huddling outside the destiny-bride home after the explosion," interrupts the Mister
I nod solemnly. Miguelito must've thought of the cover when he came to see what was happening.
"I was so worried, Little Bird," he chirps as he moves close to me as if he wants to give me a hug but stops himself when Holy Simms appears.
"Found her?" he asks, eyeing me.
"Miguelito came to the rescue as always," the Mister says, smiling.
I shudder to think of what would've happened if Miguelito hadn't thought of a story so quickly and the Mister had kept looking for me. He only had to ask Betsey and Helga where I was and he would've been able to put two and two together, that I'd been missing for a long time. Kudos to Miguelito!
"You don't have to be afraid, Little Bird. The bad man is dead."
What is he talking about?
"Paradise Village citizens," booms the voice of High Holy Grinder. "I know this has been the most tragic day in our history."
Tragic day? What is he talking about?-- and why isn't Highest Holy Bledsoe addressing us?
"Our fearless leader has been cruelly snatched away from us," he states, his voice breaking down in a sob. This is the signal for everyone else to start crying too. "He's with the Great Master now."
Highest Holy Bledsoe is dead? I just can't believe it. How did it happen? Did the explosion have anything to do with it?
The Mister eyes me with disapproval. I'm the only one not crying. I have to fake it fast. I put my hand to my heart, scrunch my face, and squeeze out a few tears. He looks away in satisfaction.
Good riddance, jerk, I tell Bledsoe in my head.
"We'll have the funeral tomorrow," High Holy Grinder speaks, his words barely audible with his sobs. "Go back to your beds and rest."
The crowd begins dissipating, and I start to walk towards the slave quarters when the Mister gets in my path. "Wait, Little Bird."
"Yes, Master Barstowe?" I ask, wishing he'd just get out of my way.
"I know how this tragedy has shaken you, Monica. I don't want you walking alone. Miguelito, would you take her back?"
"O-o-of course," he answers.
"Don't let anything happen to my Little Bird."
Miguelito and I head in the direction of the destiny-bride shack but instead of taking the short way, he takes me the long one. It is a desolate road where we can talk. I have a million questions I need to ask him.
When we're alone, I immediately turn to him. "What happened?" I whisper in case someone is around even though I had made sure I couldn't hear any out-of-place noises around me. "Is Bledsoe really dead?"
"He's really dead," Miguelito whispers back.
"How?"
"He got murdered."
"Murdered?" I ask with disbelief. "Did the explosion have anything to do with it?"
"He got shot between the eyes."
"You're kidding me."
Miguelito shakes his head. "It's true."
"Who would murder him?"
He eyes me carefully. "This may be a little hard to take."
"Tell me."
"Sit down first," he says, pointing to a boulder.
"Just tell me."
But deep inside my heart knows the answer. My eyes go to the isolation room, only a few feet away from us. "Master Smythee got his revenge," I mumble, the words tasting like bitter fruit in my mouth. I don't want to think about the trouble he's in for having murdered Bledsoe.
Miguelito nods quietly, his intent stare not leaving me.
"How did he do it? He was in isolation?"
"The Elders didn't know that he had a hidden gun with him. When they had held him down at his house to give him an injection, I guess he hadn't been able to pull out the gun. They threw him in the isolation room to . . . to . . ."
"Die," I finish his sentence. It suddenly becomes crystal clear. The Elders hadn't given him a sedation injection as Bledsoe had told him earlier when I was listening from behind the room. It had actually been a shot full of poison to kill him, but he hadn't died as expected. His will to survive and take revenge must've been very strong.
"The grave I fell into must've been for him," I mumble.
"That's my guess too."
"So how did he get out and shoot Bledsoe?" I question.
"He must've figured out what the injection was actually for and played dead. When whoever was in charge of keeping an eye on him said he had died, Bledsoe opened the door to check for himself. That's when Smythee shot him between the eyes."
My mouth is completely dry. I don't want to ask the question, but I have to. Really have to. "Where's Smythee?" I ask faintly.
Miguelito eyes me with a pained expression.
"Where is he?" I question desperately.
He keeps staring at me with an odd expression
"Where?" I insist, grabbing his collar. "Tell me! Where?!"
"He's dead. He died in the explosion," Miguelito says quietly.