Because We Are: A Novel of Haiti (47 page)

— What is it Jak? Is it Libète? Have you seen her? She ran off again.

— She’s fine. It’s about Claire and Gaspar. And Lolo.

Davidson rolled his eyes. Shit. This again?

— We know who had them killed and framed Lolo.

— Do you now? he huffed.

— Yes.

— Well, tell me then. Davidson acted impatient, but Jak knew he was interested.

— I don’t know how to say it, but…you’re working for him.

Davidson’s eyebrows shot up. Touss?

— Not Touss. Higher up.

He didn’t follow. Jak completed the thought.

— Benoit, Davidson. He was behind it. We’re almost positive.

Davidson let out an incredulous snort. That’s bullshit, Jak. How can yo—he would never—how could you say something like that? I mean, what proof could you have?

— Circumstance only. But it fits too well.

Get out of here, Davidson fumed, speaking quickly. I don’t even want to hear your stupid theories. Libète put you up to this, I bet. Just stop, Jak.

— Claire worked in Benoit’s office, was one of his secretaries. He’s Gaspar’s father! Jak blurted out. And Lolo is wasting away in prison because of it.

— Shut
up!
Davidson shouted, shoving Jak backwards. Because of his weak leg, he lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. Jak glowered but said nothing, shaming the young man with a stare.

— Davidson! came a familiar shout. What the hell are you doing?

Both turned in surprise. Libète was running over to them, and she was angry.

— What are you doing, Libète? Davidson shouted back. Running around, making up things, trying to hurt others who have nothing to do with you? I offer to help you, give you a safe place to live and you spit in my face, running away again?

— I had things to do.

— You’re ridiculous. You and Jak, conspiring over here, treating this like one of your stupid made-up games.

— It wasn’t a game when a hired murderer ruined his leg and tried to kill me, she said derisively. Don’t talk down to us, Davidson. We’re the only people who care about Lolo anymore—the only people willing to stand up and make the truth known.

— Just stop. No one’s going to listen to your stories.

— I’m sorry you won’t help us, Davidson.

— I am trying to help you! For your own good,
let the dead bury the dead
. Benoit is hope for Cité Soleil. A chance at someone who will finally do good. I know your accusations are shit, but you do him harm dragging his name through the street.

Libète watched Davidson carefully, trying to think of what retort she could give, but was interrupted by the sound of feedback ushering from the nearby speakers. They turned to see Touss taking the stage, a bedraggled young woman at his side not recognized by any of them.

Libète could see that Touss wore a fierce scowl on his face, one she had not seen for a very long time.

— My people! Touss shouted, spewing anger into the microphone. Eyes all over the park shot to the stage.

— We all know our sisters have fallen prey to these past kidnappings and abductions. But we didn’t know a thing about the criminals behind these acts. We sat in fear, our women wondering if they would be next, our parents wondering if their daughters would be next, our husbands wondering if their wives would be next. There have been more victims, and we all felt helpless seeing the law do nothing to protect us, the powerful do nothing to protect the weak. But now we have our answers!

Many in the crowd gasped. Tell us! shouted a woman not far from the stage. Touss acknowledged her with a nod. I have with me a brave sister. Some of you know her, others don’t. But you all know the name Patricia—she is one of the stolen! She escaped her masters, those who prostituted her. She has not been made a victim by just anyone, but by those occupiers, those MINUSTAH pigs!

The assembly erupted in boos and jeers.

— That’s right! This is only the newest injustice these foreigners heap on us! This whole time, they have been taking us away, using our women’s bodies to pleasure themselves!

The crowd continued its cursing.

— But MINUSTAH is not alone, we’ve discovered. Isn’t that right, Patricia?

Libète and Jak could see the woman hated the attention. She offered a small nod, not lifting her gaze from her bare feet.

— It is even worse, my friends. MINUSTAH, they are the users, but not the suppliers. No, that’s another set of villains, an even worse betrayal. Why? Because they are us! Our own people!

Ki moun?
came the shouts from the crowd. Who?

— This prostitution ring is run by none other than those sworn to protect us! Our own police!

— Lies! Libète blurted out before she could restrain herself.

Several around her turned to see who had yelled out, but she shirked back and hid, watching sheepishly as Touss continued. She looked to her cousin and could see that he was trembling.
Nathalie! Oh no! He’s thinking the police took her!

— Something has to be done! The People, in all their strength, will not tolerate an affront like this, will we?

The crowd’s resounding “
non
” shook the whole park.

— What then can we do? Touss asked.

— Defend ourselves! came a reply.

— Not let them get away with it! said another.

— Fight them!

Libète was close enough to Touss to see the corner of his mouth curl into a subtle smile.

— Then join me, up at the stage, all of you who are willing to stand up and defend our home, our people!

Young men and women began filing toward the stage, slowly at first. Out of nowhere, the loud bellowing of
rara
music exploded with horns blowing and drums sounding, as if the musicians had been waiting on cue. Those approaching the stage began to move in rhythm with the thumping music, shaking and chanting.

— My campaigners, Touss shouted. Come to the stage and start taking volunteers’ names! The People are not to be messed with! The People are more powerful than our enemies and we will show them!

Libète saw Davidson’s anger was about to overpower him, and she darted to his side as he took his first tentative steps toward the stage.

— Don’t listen to this, she begged, tugging at his sleeve. It’s a lie. I wasn’t kidnapped by the police—they’re who rescued me!

— Get out of my way.

— This is foolishness. Touss is manipulating everything! I don’t know why, but you can’t—

Davidson slapped Libète, harder than he meant to. She looked at him in horror. Shame registered on his face, but only for a moment before he turned and continued toward the stage.

— This won’t bring her back, Libète said loud enough for him to hear over the thumping music. It won’t bring Nathalie back!

He didn’t turn around again and was soon lost in the burgeoning crowd.

— He’s gone, Jak said, now standing at her side. We’ve lost him.

— He’s in too deep. It’s a protest march now but it will become much more than that.

— Especially if Touss is at the head. We need to figure out a way to stop this before it explodes. That’s the best way to protect Davidson and these others.

She watched the crowd growing more wild.

— We’ve been so busy with Elize and Benoit that I didn’t even think of this till now. Jak, we need proof, proof of who is really behind these abductions. Then we can convince others and keep the peace.

— What can there be that no one has uncovered? René was the best link, but the police interrogation came to nothing.

— René. Hmmm. Libète bit her lip, deep in thought. He may not have given the police anything useful…but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t holding something useful in his hands!

— What do you mean?

— I remember now, when I was drugged and the police arrived. I saw him throw something into the grasses—it must have been his phone! He tried to get rid of it! Stupid, stupid, stupid! she said, berating herself. Why didn’t I think of it till now? He was talking to the traffickers before the police came! Their numbers—they might still be in his phone!

— You think he’d have their numbers saved?

— At least in his call history.

— This sounds like a stretch. We don’t have time, Libète. We should go to the police now, go to Dimanche. They need to know what’s happening here.

— But Jak, I’m telling you—we need that phone!

— How will we find the thing at night? It’ll come to nothing.

— I remember the direction he threw it. I can remember it all so clearly now! We just need a light.

She looked around the stage area and saw exactly what she was hoping for: a flashlight near some sound equipment, left unattended.

— Come on, Jak. We’re stealing that light.

As each person gave their name and number to the campaign workers, they joined an ever-growing line, marching in beat to the music and snaking around the park grounds. The commotion gave the children the cover they needed, and moments later they had their light in hand, rushing to the main road to hire a moto that could take them back to the site of her captivity, a place Libète thought she’d never visit again.

Pa manyen nèg ki benyen nan gwo dlo

Don’t touch a man who bathes in deep water

Piti deyò toujou sanble papa

A bastard always looks like her father

Libète rides upon the back of the Nurse’s moto, wondering what she will find at their destination.

Marie Elise provided them Limyè’s codename, and in doing so, provided the key to everything:
Kache
, hidden.

Because Limyè had opposed Dumas and lived, he was an underground hero to the aggrieved and villain to Dumas’ people. There were many who knew Limyè’s new identity: it was a poorly kept secret among those booted out of their homes and made to struggle in the most infertile part of La Gonâve. The settlement was thick with those who hated Dumas. While Limyè’s new moniker lacked subtlety, it was an easy code word his friends could work into conversation.
But if they only knew what Limyè did to me, to my mother, they wouldn’t think so highly of him.

Libète had bid Marie Elise farewell. The fogbank inside the old woman’s mind had descended back in place, her wise eyes again clouded and distant. The girl kissed the woman on the cheek and stroked her face, shedding three tears before leaving her for good.

— What are you going to do? the Nurse asked Libète as she walked away.

— Only what I can. I need to try to find him.

— You must be careful.

— I will. Libète walked away, leaving the Nurse behind. But the Nurse did not let her leave. She followed at a distance at first, but soon caught up. The girl did not tell her to go.

Libète began asking around. Invoking the name Kache in hushed tones made whole conversations stop. There was fear at first, but Libète wasted no time. She told them that she was Limyè’s child, and the boldness of this claim was enough to secure their trust. One inquiry led to another individual who could shed more light on Limyè’s location, and before long, a picture emerged.

The line of inquiry came to an end when she was finally taken to a thirteen-year-old boy who had stumbled on Limyè’s shack in the forests while harvesting coconuts. He saw the man, he was certain of it, but he was not as he once was. He looked thin and unwell. The boy told them that the shack was far, but not hard to find if you knew where to look. As he gave directions, the Nurse interrupted.

— I will take you, Libète. We can travel faster by my bike.

— What of your work?

— I am seeing more and more that you are placed in my path for a reason. The sick, they’ll stay with me, but I feel you will not. If I don’t help you reach the end of your path, I’ll regret it.

— It is a dangerous thing to pursue Lim—I mean, Kache. Dumas and his men may get word.

— Then we must be sure they do not. I know the road and turnoff our young friend here has described. If we leave now, we may find him before it’s too dark.

They soon sped along the craggy roads, the Nurse driving the bike much faster than earlier that day.

The boy had not lied. Following his instructions, it took no more than a fifteen minute hike from the road  to find the shack.

It was improvised, a hovel really, covered with a tarp and comprised of thick tree branches used as poles, enclosed on only three sides by long sticks that allowed them to view its interior from the front. It reminded Libète of the homes she saw in the camps, those that materialized in the days after the quake.

The two approached with great care, watching to see if there was any movement. They imagined Limyè like a hunted animal, ready to pounce on intruders. Who knew if he had a weapon?

They heard a rustling from inside that made them stop in place. What appeared to be an empty cot was not empty at all. Libète looked to the Nurse to decide how to proceed, but she was too on edge to offer any help.

Libète grimaced. At long last, she had found him. She had waited long enough for this moment and would not be intimidated now.

— Limyè, she shouted. Get up! It’s me, your daughter!

— We’re never going to find it. Never.

— Shut up, Jak.

The two walk side by side, trudging through grasses as Libète sweeps the light back and forth before them. The abandoned warehouse that had been Libète’s prison looms large and black behind them, causing her to shiver every time she looks upon it.

They have already gone further in the direction than Libète remembers seeing René cast his phone. She doubts her memory but does not tell Jak this.

— Cité Soleil is about to blow up and we’re digging through grass, Jak mutters.

Libète does not respond, her eyes fixed on the ground.

A thought occurs to Jak. Where did you go this afternoon? After you left the hospital?

— Downtown.

— Really?

— Yes.

He pauses. All the way? With so much going on?

— Yes.

— To see Lolo?

— No.

— Then why?

— To look for someone, she said with some irritation. But I didn’t find the one I looked for…I don’t want to talk about it.

Jak harrumphed. All of these trails to nowhere when we know the path to somewhere—

— Shut
up
.

He bristles. He does not like being ordered. Well, how about I go and find Dimanche while you waste time sifting through dirt and weeds? I’ll be sure to tell you once the two of us have stopped a protest against the police from becoming a war between the police, U.N., and all of Cité Soleil!

— If you’d just be quiet—

— I won’t be quiet. You need to respect me, Libète—

— Listen—

— I will not!

She clapped her hand over his mouth, and he scrambled to fling it away.

— Libète! he barked.

— There it is again!

— Huh? There was what?

They both quieted and heard a faint beeping from about twenty feet behind them. They looked at each other, eyes wide. Libète shot toward the sound, dropping the flashlight as she slid to the ground. She listened closely, patting the ground until she landed on it. Jak arrived behind her, his limp slowing his progress.

She leapt up, holding the phone like a trophy before lowering it and pressing a few buttons to bring the phone’s display to life. Indeed, the battery was nearly depleted, its icon blinking like a light on an armed time bomb. Jak pushed in so that he could view the screen as well.

— Check the contacts—no, that’s not right. Press the upper-right button—

— Jak, I can figure it out!

— There’s no time! Give it to me.

— No—I can do it!

She finally brought up the phone’s contacts, and as expected, there were no saved numbers. The consistent beeping made the pressure even more excruciating. It could take ages to rush back and find someone with a proper charger, made all the more difficult if there was no electricity feeding Bwa Nèf at the moment.

— Go to call history.

— I know! I’m doing it. Three numbers appeared. What should I do?

— Call them, Jak shouted. Call them!

She dialed the first number.

—
Alo?
said the voice on the other end of the line.

Libète looked at Jak in alarm. Wi? she hazarded, trying to make her voice low like the man’s.

Unfamiliar words came back speedily. Neither child understood them, but they recognized the tongue.

— Portuguese! she mouthed to Jak, and he nodded.

— A Brazilian! A MINUSTAH soldier! he mouthed back. Touss wasn’t lying!

They could hear the Brazilian’s questioning continue from the phone.

— Au revoir, Libète said in the same low voice, cutting the call off.

— Call the next one!

She dialed, but this message went straight to an anonymous voicemail. She did not leave a message. The phone beeped yet again. She quickly dialed the last number, hoping for some clue, some shred of evidence that could help validate this search.

—
Hello, René?
came a man’s voice in Kreyol. There was much noise in the background on the other end and the children strained to hear what he said.

— Wi? Libète tried her mimicry again.

—
They actually let you go? Look, I can’t talk now. I’m going to find you, you idiot, and if they haven’t knocked out all your teeth already, I’ll take care of the rest.

The voice is familiar, but neither child can place it.

—
Desolé
, Libète says.

—
What do you want?
the voice comes back.

She hesitates, and Jak too. What could they possibly ask to get at his identity?

They could hear a voice yell in the background on the speaker’s end. Touss! We need you over here!

Libète felt like an electric shock shot out of the phone.
Could it be?

— Toussaint Laguerre? she said.

—
What?

— Is that you, Touss? Libète said.

—
René?
came the confused reply.
Who am I talking to?

— The devil, Libète shouted. And I’m coming for you! She hung up, nearing hyperventilation. Jak and Libète looked at each other, words now impossible.

The phone gave two more beeps before cutting out, plunging the children in darkness, except for the dropped flashlight.

— Now, Libète gasped. We go to Dimanche.

— Wake up, Limyè! I can see you there in your bed. Get up!

The blankets pull and rustle before Limyè sits up, cautious and fearful.

She has steeled herself for whatever she would find, but Libète stands speechless.

It is Limyè, but it is not.

She faces a living skeleton. His wide shoulders and stern face have wasted away, a faded picture of the man who has haunted her memory.

Libète loses all fear. What…has happened to you? she asks, breaking twigs with each step forward. The Nurse follows from behind a tree, making herself seen to Limyè.

He does not answer at first. It looks as if tears stain his cheeks. My God! he murmurs. Libète? Is it you? You look just like her.

Libète remembers herself and stops where she is. Don’t mention my mother!

He is dumbstruck. How are you here? How did you make it? I heard Estelle died and that was the last of things—no further word about you.

— I am here. That’s what you need to know.

— Then why?

She had imagined this question but not prepared for it.

— I had hoped to return home, she ventured, but found that my home is no more. Like everything else, it’s been taken from me.

He nodded, his sad, sallow cheeks sliding over his teeth as he tried to speak but could not find words.

— And who is this with you? he finally says as he wipes his eyes.

— A nurse who travels to the settlements and through the hills.

— May I help you, mesye? I have some special food in my bag I could give you, and maybe some medicine?

— I would take it.

The Nurse floated past Libète and moved close to his side while Libète watched. What is your condition? she asked him. Do you even know? She removed a stethoscope and placed it on Limyè’s chest, reaching into his wrinkled and unwashed shirt, opened down the front.

— AIDS. The AIDS has caught up with me.