it."
It seemed as though the entire store had become paralyzed by silence as the woman stepped a little closer and regarded Marlene and Shabazz with quiet curiosity. Then suddenly as though a bee had stung her, she stepped back and covered her mouth for a few seconds.
"Yeah, like I said," Shabazz muttered, relaxing his stance.
Marlene dropped her arms. "What did Divine Spirit tell you about us?"
"My name is Owa, for short. . . . We'll help you." The manager pressed her hand to her heart and then yanked out a huge ring of keys from her robe pocket. "Brother Muata-lockthe front door and put the Closed sign up, then drop the gates. Sister Sylvia and Miss Mary, go 'round the back and open the door for those folks-don't say nothing, just wave 'em in and get 'em up in the sanctuary, quick. Then bring 'em down one by one to pick whatever they want for clothes off the racks." She was breathing hard as she barked orders and the few patrons in the store scattered to carry out her commands.
"Hidden Guardian camp?" Shabazz said to Marlene.
"Yep, you called this one on the money," Marlene said with a proud smile and then began laughing. "Even though we didn't have time to let J.L. do a formal computer search for Detroit safe houses, instinct worked like a charm and Jack Rider's gonna have to wear a dashiki to the jazz festin Detroit ."
Shabazz chuckled and relaxed, nodding.
"We been hiding in plain sight for more than thirty years," Owa said, rushing over to Marlene and Shabazz to reverently shake their hands and then hug them. With tears in her eyes, she fanned her face. "You know we got a Shrine in Atlanta and another one in Houston. Wait till I tell them who's here!"
"Just not over the phone . . . lines are compromised, so are the airwaves," Marlene said.
Owa smiled. "We don'tever mess with regular technology . . . we send this through the divinations altar to altar, chile."
"My sister," Marlene said, embracing Owa with affection. "Thank you."
"No . . . Queen Mother, Marlene . . .bless you for coming to us in these end days." Owa turned and looked at Shabazz and offered him a slight bow before turning back to Marlene. "And thank you for letting my heart rest easy about my momma. For the record, nobody knew she called me Bebe but family."
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER NINE
The team followed Sister Owa through a labyrinth of racks to the museum area. She stopped and outstretched her arm, her eyes holding a fusion of excitement and reverence.
"This is why we're here," she said proudly. "We went through all of this and still we found goodness in the world worth surviving for."
Marlene nodded and looked around the team, her gaze settling on Shabazz. "And I'm now oh soooo clear that this is why we were shunted from pillar to post today. We were supposed to come here to remember what Sister Owa said, as well as to probably get used to that feeling of being on the run again-but not to give into the group dissension or the fear."
The team's senior seer allowed her gaze to rake each member slowly with compassion. "We'veall still been trying to process the poison out of our minds, even our Neterus, white baths notwithstanding. Look at how we've been acting, talking to each other on the team, going over old mess and vibrations that we'd already learned not to do from the school of hard knocks. We got infected, people, and had to shake it off to unify-once again . . . it's not a learn-it-one-time-and-you're-done type of thing. Unity requires ongoing maintenance, just like marriages and relationships are ongoing work. If we had gotten into those other locations, maybe we would have missed the lesson . . . the Creator makes no mistakes-Ashe."
"Ashe," Owa said quietly. "And maybe we needed you all to come to let us know that the thirty-plus years we've been at the struggle have not been in vain . . . there really is hope on the horizon-some light in this dark tunnel we've been in."
Quiet affirmations rippled through the group as Owa began walking. The team fanned out slowly as members peered at the horrific scenes of bondage on the walls, mute as they passed each exhibit, reading placards with hands pressed to hearts, some shaking their heads, not even realizing their bodies were moving in such a manner.
Oppressive silence, except for