54
The Question is the Answer
The Little Orleans Market, Antigua.
A few minutes later, Jana pulled her car behind the market and parked next to a dumpster. She went in the back door. Inside the ramshackle shop was the owner, a little old lady named Abena. She didn’t look up from her sweeping. Pete Buck was seated at a tiny round table, one of three set up for anyone enjoying Abena’s cooking. Jana walked to the table but paused, her eyes glued on the old woman. Abena had stopped where she was standing, her broom in hand. It was almost as if she was frozen.
Jana walked to her and placed a gentle arm around her waist and took hold of the broom. The woman smiled at her through Coke-bottle-thick glasses and the two walked in shuffle-step behind the counter where Jana helped her onto a stool
