“I’m not sure,” Harper said a bit breathlessly, “but I think it might be handcuffs of some kind.”

Dora scooted lower, then looked over to Harper with amazement and awe. “Slave shackles?” Though she would have preferred to have unearthed a thick gold chain from pirates, there was a historical significance to the shackles that rendered her speechless.

Harper rose to her feet with the chain. “Let’s go rinse it off with the hose and show it to Mamaw and Lucille. They’ll know.”

Mamaw and Lucille were sitting up in their chairs on the porch, necks craned as they followed Dora’s and Harper’s progress from the garden to the hose.

“What you got there?” Mamaw called out.

“Not sure,” Dora called back. “Be right there.”

Dora held out the chain as Harper hosed the gushing water over the unknown hunk of metal. Water sluiced off the final layer of mud and muck, revealing what looked like thick, rusting, heavy metal handcuffs joined together with a chain. Neither woman spoke but stood in almost a reverential silence. Harper turned off the hose, then followed Dora across the porch to the two waiting elderly women. Their eyes were wide with curiosity.

“What is it?” Mamaw asked.

Lucille sat up and lowered her legs from the ottoman.

Dora lay the dripping object on the ottoman. It settled with a clanking sound.

Lucille sucked in her breath and stared at the object. Then with seeming trepidation, she reached out to place her dark, wrinkled hand on one of the handcuffs.

“Lord above, girl, you done found slave manacles,” she said in a soft voice that shook with emotion.

“I thought that might be what they were,” Dora said.

Mamaw drew closer to study the heavy metal cuffs. “They say if you dig anywhere on this island you’ll uncover history. When we renovated the house, we found Revolutionary War bullets, Civil War coins, buttons, broken pottery, all manner of memorabilia. But never any pirate’s treasure. Or anything as profound as this,” she said, indicating the shackles. “This is a part of our history I’m not proud of.”

Lucille’s hands shook under the weight as she lifted the manacles and put them in her lap. “They so heavy I can hardly lift them.”

“Can you imagine how they managed to walk with those?” Dora said.

Harper asked, “What are slave shackles doing on Sullivan’s Island? I thought the slaves all went to the market in Charleston.”

Mamaw’s face grew reflective. “The slaves weren’t sold at the market. They were usually sold at the Charleston ports, right off the boat. After quarantine. The local residents were terrified of infectious diseases like cholera, measles, and smallpox coming in on the ships. This was a major port for the country, don’t forget. So they built pest houses here on Sullivan’s Island for quarantine. It was a convenient location, a barrier island right along the port entry. Throughout the eighteenth century, slaves flowed through our port in large numbers. And all of them were sent for quarantine before they were sold.”

“If they survived the journey,” Lucille added somberly.

Mamaw rested her hand over her friend’s. “Sadly true.”

“How many slaves came through Charleston Harbor, do you know?” asked Harper.

“No one knows for sure,” Mamaw answered. “So many died here in the pest houses—men, women, and children.”

Lucille said sadly, “I heard somewheres between two hundred and four hundred thousand slaves came through.”

Harper gasped. “That many?”

Lucille glanced at her. “You think that’s a lot? It ain’t so many when you know ten to twelve million were shipped out of Africa.” Lucille sighed as she stared down at the shackles. “Africa done bled her children.”

“Charleston was the major port of entry for slaves in America,” explained Mamaw. “Near half of African Americans in this country can trace their roots through Charleston. And most of them were quarantined right here on this island.” She looked at the shackles and added, “I’ve always felt that we needed to do more here on Sullivan’s Island to honor all those slaves who died here. A monument of some kind. After all, this was an Ellis Island for the hundreds of thousands of slaves who passed through.”

“Hardly Ellis Island,” Harper corrected Mamaw. “Immigrants who passed through that island came willingly and sought a better life, political or religious freedom. Ironic contrast, wouldn’t you say?”

Dora felt a flurry of irritation. Harper always had to argue a point. And it rankled because she was usually correct.

“My ancestors came here on a slave ship,” Lucille said in a low voice.

She was bent over the shackles, her hand resting on the metal protectively. It appeared to Dora that the old woman was folding into herself.

“Only the strong in spirit survived the journey,” Lucille continued. “Black families lived on Sullivan’s for as long as I know. Used to be small farms here.” She stretched out her hand toward the garden. “Big gardens. There were chickens, too. Maybe a pig. But they’s all gone now. Poor folk moved to Daniel Island when this one got built up. Now they gone from Daniel Island, too.” She paused as her mind seemed to drift back to the past.

“Do you miss your family?” Harper asked gently.

Lucille blinked and seemed to return to the present. “No, there’s only me.” She looked at the other women. “And y’all. And that’s all right. We all have our time, there’s no use fightin’ it. I like to think we’ll meet up again someday on the other side.”

“You have your ancestors’ strength,” Dora said emphatically.

Lucille appeared moved by the comment. “I hope so. I’ll need it when times get hard.” She looked at Harper. “What you plan to do with these?”

“I don’t have any plans,” Harper replied. “Donate them to a museum maybe?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hold on to them, just for a while.”

“Of course,” Harper said. “Take them. They’re yours.”

Lucille looked down at the shackles in her lap. “Thank you. I’d just like to study them awhile. Maybe I will go back to my cottage now,” Lucille said. “I’m tired.” She attempted to rise, but with the heavy chain weighing her down it took more strength than she had. Alarmed, Dora and Harper each took a side while Mamaw grabbed hold of the chain. They helped Lucille to her feet.