Half of Paradise

“Hey, you guys, look here.” It was Jeffry. He was coming from the latrine, barefooted, his belt unhitched and hanging loose, and his trousers half buttoned. He had the piece of string in his hand.

“You’ll wake up the guys sleeping,” Billy Jo said.

“Look at the string. Them knots is gone. It’s like Brother Samuel said. There ain’t one of them left!”

“Shut up,” a voice said from one of the bunks.

“I went into the latrine and I was waiting to get rid of my supper, like I do every night, and I waited and nothing happened. My belly was all right. I didn’t have to crap at all. I was hitching up my trousers and I took out this piece of string and them knots was gone. I don’t feel sick no more. I swear to God I don’t. Wake up, Brother Samuel! You healed my belly. It’s like you said. No more runs.”

Brother Samuel stirred in his bunk. He sat up and looked at Jeffry. His face was heavy with sleep.

“You done it,” Jeffry said.

“I ain’t sure you want to be obliged.”

“This is the first time I held my food down since I come to camp.”

“I healed you through the Black Man. Sometimes the spirits come back and make it bad for you in another way.”

“I ain’t worrying about no more spirits. They can do anything they got a mind to as long as they don’t give me no more dysentery.”

“You guys shut up,” a voice said from the darkness.

“I told you there was something in that ball of hair,” Benoit said.

“You guys been in stir too long. It’s got to you,” Billy Jo said.

“Look at the string. There ain’t a knot in it.”

“Who untied them? That Belial guy?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to shake his hand, whoever he is,” Jeffry said.

“Them spirits can come back,” Brother Samuel said.

“They ain’t coming around me no more,” Jeffry said. “I swear to God I never thought nothing like this could happen.”

“Button up your pants. You’re hanging out,” Billy Jo said.

“I knowed that ball of hair jumped in my hand,” Benoit said. “I felt it, just like a frog leg jumps.”

“Spread this around camp and you’ll all go to the nut house,” Billy Jo said.

“The spirits can put a grigri on you,” Brother Samuel said.

“What the hell is a grigri?”

“It’s a spell. It makes you have bad luck.”

“I ain’t worrying about no grigri. It couldn’t be no worse than the runs.”

“I ain’t got the power to take it off. It takes a man that’s sold his soul to get rid of a grigri.”

“I ain’t worrying.”

Somewhere in the distance a train whistle blew. They could hear the rush of the engine and the rumble of the wheels. They never saw the train except the day they rode it to prison and the day they left. There was an old story that if an inmate saw the train’s headlamp shining at him out of the darkness he would be released from the camp soon. The whistle blew again and the men sat in silence. Even Jeffry did not speak. The train was closer now and the whistle shrieked once more in the quiet of the night.

“The midnight special going to glory,” Brother Samuel said. “Shine your light on me.”