There is a Land (A Libète Limyè Mystery) (18 page)

Félix and Libète watch from far off as Dorsinus is sealed away and the last nails driven in his coffin. The Sun chooses to bathe the funeral in orange. Six young men hoist the coffin and carry it at a near-jog to the funerary plot. The people of Foche make a serpentine column that slithers along the mountain trails. Libète and Félix make up its flagging tail.

She noticed Félix’s hands open and close unconsciously, as if he itched to take part in bearing Dorsinus’s body. The coffin moved forward, back, dipped, and spun around as the young men sang and chanted.

— What are they doing? Libète asked.

He looked at her as if she should know. Shaking him up, he said. Confusing his spirit. So he won’t return.

She nodded, feigning understanding. Of course, she said.

The body was laid in the ground and the preacher Reginald said a few more words. There were some tears, though they were few.

The pair still gave a wide berth to the mourners who were now a coiled snake. Félix shook silently. Libète thought of giving him a comforting pat, but decided against it.

A string of people spoke, and the two were just close enough to hear their words. They shared remembrances about the man: his stories, his “blindness,” his kindness, his scheming and dealing, his living and dying. Magdala went last.

— Much has been said of this person we all know, but I see now – she exhaled – we did not
know
him. Say what you will, we did not
understand
him. But his time is done. She turned to address the corpse. Dorsinus, you are dead. You gave much to many. But we owe you nothing more. Not a thing! So don’t you stick around. Don’t you settle here. You were always happier wandering these mountains. Seeking your fortune. Chasing love and not finding it. Preaching in between. So go. Maybe now, with new eyes, you can go and do whatever you want. We thank you, but we don’t want you.

Those assembled each took a handful of dirt and, in turn, tossed it on the coffin buried just deep enough in the ground to satisfy custom. And then the snake of people unwound itself and slipped back toward Foche as orange light gave way to purple.

— Let’s do our part, Libète said.

She headed down alone as the two diggers began undoing their earlier labor. Toes at the precipice, she stooped and picked up a handful of dirt. She hesitated. She thought of bodies of friends laid bare on the ground, to whom she’d never been able to say good-bye. She let the coarse dirt slip from her palm and fall through her fingers’ sieve.

Félix still stood off. She beckoned, wiping her hands off. The diggers looked at him. He shook his head.

— You make no sense, she said.

She walked past him. Félix stared at the hole for a minute longer before turning to follow her back over the hills, back to Foche, back toward his fortress, and into falling night.

— I’m not staying in the same house as
him
. I don’t care who’s chasing us.

Stephanie spoke. Libète, that’s a foolish thing to say. The girl’s eyes flashed. Please, Stephanie said. Do this for me.

— Do
what
, Steffi? You’ve not explained a single thing!

— I don’t blame you, Libète, Laurent said. If it helps, I’m just as unhappy to see you.

Libète rolled her eyes. Why are we even here?

— You’re in danger, if it wasn’t obvious. On all sides. We looked the other way for too long.

— Who?
Who?
Phantoms?
Lougawou yo
? It’s bad enough you don’t even know from whom we’re running!

— It’s still not clear. Benoit is the obvious threat. But there may be others.

Libète sneered.

— We only know what we know: harm comes to everyone around you.
Everyone
. So shut your mouth.

Stephanie had never spoken to her like this before.
And I’ve never spoken to her like this.

Libète kicked a chair out from under the table, plopped down, and crossed her arms.

— The studio was broken into.

— You told me that.

— But Gerry . . .

Stephanie dabbed at her eyes. He was killed yesterday, she said softly. In his home. Beaten and left to die.

— I’m . . . sorry.

— The knife attack at the station. Didi’s poisoning.

— And your kidnapping by Lolo, Jak added. We can’t forget that.

— Lolo was trying to
protect
me, she snapped. He left the note warning me.

— Lolo was trying to trap and kill you, Stephanie said.

— How do you know?

— I know.

— So tell me, then!

Stephanie shook her head. I can’t. Not yet.

— Jak, you then. Tell me what she knows.

— I don’t know either.
Mwen gen konfyans nan li
. I’m trusting what she says.

— You too, Jak?

He looked hurt as he sat at the wooden table. He slumped as he traced the tabletop’s grain with his fingertip.

Stephanie spoke. You can be dead, wanted for murder, or both. It seems they are content every which way.

— So Lolo was trying to kill me, huh? With what? She reached into her bag. Poisoned peanuts?

She held a handful up to her mouth. You tell me what you know, or I’ll eat. I’ll show you this is ridiculous.

Jak touched her shoulder. Please. Stop.

Laurent lunged at Libète and ripped the food from her hands. He threw it out an open window.

— You stupid, stupid girl!

Libète shrieked. How
dare
you!

He looked at Stephanie dumbstruck. You bring an imbecile like this into my house? I didn’t know I was signing up for a suicide watch!

Libète was aghast. Watch? What’s he talking about? We’re staying here?

— I’m being followed, Stephanie said. I need to leave before–

Libète ran outside.

She walks through the dark ahead of Félix, down slopes, up slopes, on-road and off. He tries to cover the ground between them, to catch up, before slowing, stalling, and dropping back again.

— Sophia, he calls feebly.

But Libète moves faster, the day’s events proving too much for her.
I am alone . . . I am alone . . . I am alone,
she mutters the words like a mantra.

The road is quiet. Foche is weary. Minds are worn from work, rum, and pushing through the heavy motions of mourning. All know tomorrow will come, so they lay down to prepare for more planting, more cultivating, more cooking, more hunger.

She follows the fork in the road, heads toward the imposing iron gate.

— Why are you going off that way?

— Leave me alone, will you?

She moved to the steep incline and the start of the rock that sat atop the mountain like the regal arch of a crown. She found the crevice.

She would leave. Tonight. She was done with this place. More death. Narrow peasant minds. Endless superstition. This was not the safe haven she was promised, not by a long stretch. She endangered herself every minute she remained and she would
not
let
. . .

It wasn’t there.

She reached in till her arm was consumed, scraping her hands as her desperate fingers ran over every crack.

Her notebook. Her notebook was gone.

A band of light passed over her, the sound of engines’ rumbling following shortly behind. She ducked, breathing hard, breathing fast.
If anyone reads that–if anyone sees–

The thought immobilized her for a minute. She then took off toward the fortress.

So preoccupied, she did not give a second thought as to why, with the Sun at rest, a line of three heavy trucks, more than anyone had yet seen come to Foche, would line up at a locked gate at the top of a remote mountain, filing through one by one by one, until all were swallowed, and the barrier slid shut once more.

She dashes into the villa’s courtyard, her tears pouring, the light blinding.

Too, too much. It’s just too much.

She sits in the white gravel against Tòti, burying her face in her hands. There is a timid
crunch crunch crunch
from behind, but she doesn’t look up, she doesn’t care.

— Can I join you?

Jak.

Another step toward her.

— Can I sit?

She says nothing.

— I thought he wouldn’t return. Jak sat. When we were moved to the separate rooms last night, I was numb. My mind
. . .
it just stopped working. I couldn’t–can’t–believe Didi’s gone.

Libète let out a rueful moan.

— And then Madanm Maxine came. With her questions. She asked me about the Numbers, what I knew of the note, if I had seen him.

— Who?

— Lolo. She knew about Lolo. Said that she had seen him.

— She said nothing about him to me.

— She warned me that if I didn’t tell her all I knew, she couldn’t protect me from him, from Benoit. That Brown would boot me out. That the police would take you away.

— She’s just after the truth. Investigating. Like we should be doing instead of hiding away like
. . .
like
. . . criminals
. Did you tell her about the Numbers?

— I told her I knew nothing. And she left.
Orevwa
. I waited. Thought things over. I eventually banged on the door. Yelled for Charles to let me get to a phone, to call Stephanie. When he didn’t come, I did what I had to.

Libète looked at Jak with anticipation.

— It took me a while, but I took the sheet, tied it to the window bars, climbed out.

She clicked her tongue. I missed that in my hurry, she said.

— The drop hurt. She noticed his knee was swollen and a bit bruised. I saw her leave in a car, out the front gate, Jak said. And I went as fast as I could for Véus. Told him we had to check on you. That we were being held prisoner. We rushed up to your room, but you were already gone.

She shook her head. The pieces weren’t falling into place. Then how–how did you find me?

— Besides Véus, Brown and Charles had keys to our rooms. Véus nearly woke up all of Cité Soleil shouting for Charles–shouting, shouting, shouting. We found Charles trembling in the kitchen, in the walk-in freezer. Chattering, saying he was sorry, he was sorry. Jak was wide-eyed, recounting it all into the open air. Véus started to hit Charles with the butt of his shotgun. It wasn’t pretty.

— A good man, that Véus.

— Charles had been paid to unlock the door and leave the note. Paid off. By a ‘hollow man,’ he said. Someone thin, someone young. That’s all he knew. Véus cursed him, spat on him, and jammed a broom in the door’s handle, locking him in the freezer. Libète–Charles was paid a thousand dollars.

— A thousand Haitian?

— American.

— To leave a note?

— And open a door.

— Bondye! And you knew it was Lolo?

— I feared it then. Had a vague idea. But it didn’t make sense.

— What then?

— We called Steffi. We were so, so scared. Thought you were gone for good.

She braced his shoulder. Thanks, Jak. He nodded sadly.

— Over the wall, the note said. So I went looking for clues, for anything really. Véus was raising a storm inside still, shouting at Brown, cursing the whole school. I noticed the grass and reeds at the back of the school. No one goes back there, no one at all. But even in the moonlight, I could see they’d been trampled on. Some broken. It was clear a set of wheels had passed through, too narrow for a car. But a cart? It could be a cart. I wanted to run after the trail then and there, but I finally reached Steffi. When she arrived, we drove straight through the fields, bounding and getting mud on Tòti, hitting a rock so hard I thought our axle would break. The trail led right back to–