Read Online Good Fortune (9781416998631) by Noni Carter - Free Book Online

I did.
    On this Sunday, as I made my way toward the bank, I suddenly had the sense that someone was nearby. Moving closer to the bank and lowering myself until my mouth was underwater, I looked around and spotted no one. Assuming my intuition was wrong, I started to turn back.
    Then I saw him.
    The outline of his tall body was all I needed to tell me that John was there.
    How long had he been there? Had he seen my naked body in the water?
    I knew he wasn’t that close, perhaps not even close enough to recognize that it was me. But a feeling of exposure made me shrink from his sight. His back was against a tree, feet crossed at his ankles, and he was fiddling with an object in his hands.
    Carefully inching my way out of the water, I moved out of his line of vision. I grabbed my clothes and quietly struggled into them, still dripping with water. I ran my hands through my short hair to shake away what droplets I could. In order to leave, I had to cross back over to the other side of the bank. Silently, I made my way over, keeping my eyes on John’s figure. As much as I wanted to see and talk to him now, I knew I couldn’t; Masta Jeffrey’s threats rang like bells through my mind. One inch, two inches. I crept along.
    Reaching the other side, my heart leaped with both relief and sorrow. I had escaped. But I looked away from my feet too soon, and my left foot clumsily snapped a twig. My whole body went rigid as John’s head snapped up. He looked right at me.
    He turned my way and I waited there, knowing the best thing I could do was leave, to run. But I didn’t, I just stood, holding my breath. Doubts rushed to my head from two Sundays ago.
    What does he think of me?
    I knew I had to go, but my feet wouldn’t budge. Why was my heart always so stubborn against what my mind told me was right? I thought again about leaving, but it was too late. With a few strides, John was standing right in front of me.
    â€œYour heart’s speakin’ loud today, ain’t it?” he said quickly.
    I wanted to scold him for reading my thoughts so clearly, as he had done many times before. Without looking at him, I responded softly, “You don’t know nothin’ ’bout my heart speakin’.” I made a motion to leave.
    â€œDon’t …,” he started, reaching out for my arm. But I held back.
    â€œYou know what Masta said,” I told him, my eyes set like stone on the ground, resisting the urge to meet his.
    â€œMasta ain’t here. He gone off into town,” John said quietly. I didn’t even have to ask if he was talking about Masta Jeffrey or not—that was the only Masta on both our minds. His voice seemed to coax me into looking up at him, but I wouldn’t.
    â€œSarah.”
    â€œWhat?” I asked as I crossed my arms and stared up at him with the emptiest look I could muster. He held on to it tighter than I expected.
    â€œDid he … did he do somethin’ to you? He hurt you?” John’s voice was heavy, but it seemed patient. I lowered my eyes and said nothing, the fear of confronting Masta Jeffrey again and him carrying out his intentions swelling like powerful winds inside my chest.
    â€œSarah …” But he stopped, waiting, as if the very ground beneath his feet would rumble when I spoke.
    I pursed my lips and looked back up at him. “Naw,” I said simply.
    John gave into the silence that followed for just a moment, before concluding that I was not convincing enough. “You ain’t cryin’, but I can see tears runnin’ through you like a storm.” He said the words calmly, but I could hear an unsteadiness lurking beneath them. A wind blew past my face. I heard the water move behind me and a single bird chirp. Everything seemed to be saying, “You better not tell, Sarah, you better not.”
Tell what?
I had nothing to tell. Or did my heart know something my head didn’t want to accept? And did John