‘Marie … were you born in Jamaica?’ she asked as she sat down. ‘Yes, missus … I lived my whole life there until I was brought here.’ ‘A...d, do you remember your mother?’ ‘Yes, missus’ ‘What do you remember about her?’ ‘Well, missus … my mam was born in Africa and brought to Jamaica half growed. She had learned of plants and roots and herbs so she doctored the other slaves and once in a while was called on to attend to the white folks … she had some magic … she could look into a kettle of water. He had a shaved head and dark skin. “You waiting for this,” she asked while she ran and smiled. “I was never much for running,” he said. “But I like the chase. My name is…” “I don’t care.” Sara turned the treadmill off and began to slow down. She grabbed a towel and while dabbing her forehead stared at him. “Skip your shower and meet me in the lobby.” In the back seat of her luxury SUV parked in the garage she pulled his shorts down. Sara kissed down his muscular chest, and licked the salt. More

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