(By Evings Pierre or PS for the eFriends)
Chapter One
The oval grape fruit sifted through the air like a rocket, before being split into thousands of little pieces. Some of the scattered pulps freed their sour liquid, and like in a firework display, reverberated the afternoon sunrays, before falling down on all the recoiled kids attempting to cover their heads. Elifet had a way of putting all his energy on a soccer ball, be it a real leather ball, or a fruit ball of the type he had just kicked in the air.
Eli, as he was known by everyone, seemed rather happy playing with his friends and cousins, on his last day at Saint Jean Du Sud. For one thing, he had been up earlier than he ever did that morning. By 8:00 AM he was already on the way to his Godmother's house, a couple of miles west of the huge field of mangoes of Mr Douyon, the richest farmer in the region.
Eli's Godmother Selimène was the wife of uncle Jean, his mother's brother. Selimène apparently could not bear any children. As such, she did not make much of a fuss the first time she learned about Jean's daughter with another woman from the next town over. Selimène was very pretty, and knew darn well how to cultivate her land, and run her house. Such combined features, Jean could not find around. Perhaps they were the reason why he often openly expressed his love for his wife, vowing not to ever leave her just because she could not give birth.
Thus far, Selimène had been such a good 'Maren'n' to Eli. Not once had she missed his birthday. When it was not money, she would always find something to give to Eli on the latter one's birthday. Like she always said, "Bay piti pa chich." So, Eli had been very appreciative of her way of thinking, and would always expect something from her, no matter how small. Selimène's last gift to Eli, was a specially prepared Cassava made out of Manyok and Coconut. Eli could not have loved it more.
- "Eh Eli! Koman ou ye la'a vye frè?" She exclaimed, at the sight of Eli coming down the road that morning.
- "Bonjou Maren'n," he smiled.
- "Bonjou pitit gason mwen," she replied in her usual jovial way.
- "Mezami ou pral kite nou vre hein! Eh Eh... Kilè na va wè la'a ankò Eli," she continued, embracing firmly her Godchild.
For some reason, Eli suddenly felt nostalgic, and took a moment before answering, his eyes crowned with tears, being the emotional type that he was.
- "Oh no! Nap wè Maren'n. Youn jou konsa ankò nap wè," he added melancholically.
She then invited him to sit, and proceeded to finish the breakfast she was preparing, her favorite mixture of sweet potato cooked in boiled goat milk. Next, in a very long monologue, she reminded him of how much they all love him, and advised him to always remember where he comes from, and not to let even fame, fortune or women come in between him and his family.
- "Pitit mwen, tan pri pa kite ni lajan , ni fan'm fè ou bliye lakay ou tande," she emphasized, holding
onto his chin, as if she wanted to make sure he was paying attention.
Uncle Jean himself was not around. Apparently, he had left early for a kombit. Thus, the two talked for a good while, and Eli soon left with one hundred Gourdes bill.
Happy, he returned home to find his cousins and friends waiting in his front yard. Eli quickly joined them in a party of marble. But, soon the game turned into a soccer brawl, as Papou, one of Eli's cousin and son of his other Uncle Bob, spread the marbles with a kick of a grape fruit, taken from one of the backyards' trees. The game went on in the front yard's dirt for a very long time under the peering eyes of Man Yaya and her husband Moreau, both Eli's parents.
Noticeably, the kids' joyful mood, strongly contrasted with Man Yaya's obvious contemplative look, as she puffed her pipe on a rocking chair nearby, flanked by her husband.
Tomorrow, Elifet will depart for Port-au-Prince, a place she herself has never visited. For the first time in 16 years she will be without her loving son.
- "Eli," she suddenly exclaimed, "vini... Kite zafè football sa'a. Vin pran youn repo."
- "Map vini manman," Eli replied, smiling at his friend Marco whose hair had been hit by most of the fruit's falling pulps.
- "Depi'm maten ou nan solèy la. Mèyè pran youn repo. Al benyen..." she added, sounding a little moody.
- "Ok manman! Nou pral benyen larivyè. Na wè lè'm tounen," Eli finished.
He then removed his soaked shirt, threw it around his neck, and headed in the direction of the path leading to the river, a quarter of mile on the other side of the overgrown Pitimi plantations. Both Eli's cousins Frantz and Papou tagged along with Marco and the others.
They all grew up together, and saw Eli as a brother, rather then a cousin or a friend. After all, that was probably their last trip to the river with Eli. They truly would not want to miss that.
At the river, Eli quickly spotted Sarah, his current girlfriend. However, he abstained from approaching her, as the latter one was with her mother, washing clothes on the riverbank. Sarah's face illuminated when she saw Eli. Yet, with the presence of her mother, she could not really express her happiness. As such, both kids were content to occasionally exchange a smile, and undress each other with the eyes from far away.
-"What a loss..." Papou sarcastically confided to Eli, looking at Sarah's wide curvy heap, as she turned to pick up a shirt thrown over a small tree to dry. Eli glanced once more at her without saying anything, and took a plunge in the river.
The two kids loved each other very much; and they have been dating for over a year now. However, Sarah's mother did not hide her reproval, as she deemed it too early for her 15 years old girl to be getting "squeezed" as she put it, by Eli, whom although only 16, looked much more mature.
Unlike many of the other young men around, Eli was very well mannered; but that alone could not quell her deep seeded jealousy when it came to her young daughter. Sarah's mother could not have been any happier when she heard the rumors about Eli's departure for the Capital.
However, before he and the guys would have left, Eli managed to slip a message to Sarah, fixing a rendezvous that night near the river, which she clearly accepted with a subtle nod of the head.
It was around 7:00 PM, and Eli had been waiting near the river for about 15 minutes now. Neither the beautiful sky studded with stars, nor the charming symphony of the crickets in the woods could help him cope with the uneasy feeling of sadness overwhelming him. He looked rather impatient, as his eyes scanned the dark surroundings.
Suddenly a silhouette appeared in between the mango trees lined up along the riverbank. It was Sarah wrapped under a see-through 'Moomoo' that barely hid her firm breasts. Eli then took a deep breath of relief, and rushed ahead to meet her half-way. For a while, the two embraced tightly without exchanging a word.
Finally, they let go of each other. And, holding her hand, Eli twisted her around to meticulously inspect her entire body. For some reason, he found her more radiant, more beautiful than ever. He then took her in his arm and smacked his trembling lips against hers. An adrenaline rush ensued, as Sarah's hardened nipples came crashing on Eli's chest like two little rocks. The two fell on a pile of mango leaves with their lips still sealed.
Eli proceeded on running his mouth around Sarah's neck, then down toward her nipples, where he stopped for a while. Sarah's breathing became more and more pronounced, as her body seemingly succumbed under Eli's ubiquitous mouth. But, as the aroused Eli reached down to her mound, Sarah pulled his head up, a reminder that she did not want to go any further.
Apparently, beside fearing her scolding mother, Sarah did not want to end up like her best friend Maryse, who's boyfriend had died crossing the Atlantic toward the US, after he had gotten her pregnant. Reluctantly, Eli did not counter her sudden move, thus went back up to her nipples, her lips, her neck, and so on. That went on for a long time to finally end with some subsequent jerky movements of Sarah's body, followed by a languorous sigh that echoed in the still night.
That was it; like many times before, on that same spot, she had reached that zenith point. And also, like before, she looked drained out, as she sat down and pensively laid her chin on her crossed arms, placed over her folded knee.
Eli somewhat unsatisfied, resigned himself to letting his hormones calm down. After all, they have never passed this point. He was not about to force her either, having been aware of what Maryse was going through.
He then passed his arm around her shoulder, and ran his fingers through her thick hair. Suddenly she started to sob inconsolably, trying to explain to Eli how much she will miss him.
-"Mwen pa konnen sa mwen pral fè san ou," she admitted. Eli reciprocated with tears of his own, in his attempt to comfort her.
-"Wap toujou sou kè'm cheri. Mwen guen pou'm tounen pou ou." He reassured her.
The two wiped each other's eyes, and exchanged kisses tapped with a taste of salty tears that could not stop flowing.
Finally, it was time to go, and Eli walked Sarah to her house, both of them ready to face Sarah's mother, should she sees the two together. But, her mother was not outside when they arrived. They then talked for a while near her front fences, and reluctantly parted with a mixture of sadness and nostalgia they had never felt before.
Chapter Two
Early, at exactly 4:00 AM, Man Yaya was up. She had already prepared coffee and packed Eli's bag, before waking up both her husband and her precious son. By 5:00AM, Eli was in route to the bus station flanked by both his parents. Along the way , the two parents took turn reminding Eli to try being the best that he could, and to never forget them. They reassured him that he will always have a home to come back to, should things do not go as planned.
Later on, at the station, neither the usually strong Mr Moreau, nor Man Yaya could hide their tears, as their only son boarded the camion. They have thought of this moment for long time, yet they could not believe that day arriving. Soon, the bus departed amid goodbyes by parents, siblings and friends alike. With his head out of the little window near his seat, Eli kept on waving at his parents, until the latter ones disappeared behind the cloud of dust left by the bus on the rocky road.
The road from Saint Jean du Sud to Port-au-Prince was most tiresome. Nevertheless, Eli's eagerness to see the capital had overshadowed the effects of the bad roads on his back. The very tiny stretch between St Jean and Les Cayes seemed interminable.
Past the foot of Mount Douyon, the road literally cut through the rivers of L'Acul and Torbeck. The absence of bridges there made the crossing rather impossible. Had not it been for the manpower of the locals there, the shaky bus would not have made it through. The latest rainy season in the region had taken a tool on the two rivers, widening them, and making them virtually impassable.
Soon Eli's bus reached Les Cayes, where a number of other passengers were picked up. After a pause of 30 minutes there, the bus departed at full speed over the asphalt, in the middle of a cacophony led by the dozens of tied up roosters placed atop the bus.
From then on, Eli could relax a bit and breathe the fresh air from the valleys on both sides of the road. The pitimi plantations he was accustomed to, now gave way to lush fields of rice and green grazing pastures. From where he was, the entire rice fields seemed to be dancing with the wind.
With a tight grip on his few belongings, Eli looked lost in the beauty of his surroundings. His eyes wandered here and there to pause sometimes on clusters of peasants enjoying a Kombit, chanting and working the fields. Soon the bus made it through St Louis du Sud, Aquin to finally stop at the edge of the town of Miragoane. It was past noon already, and having been in the bus since very early in the morning, Eli's legs were very tired. He then got off along with the others, to stretch a little and eat something.
Upon getting on solid ground, he quickly reached a shady area under a nut tree, and sat on one of the emerging roots of that tree. There, he unfolded a scarf pulled out from within his bag, to expose some Cassava and a dark piece of Rapadou. He then proceeded to eat the whole thing, followed by one of his mangoes. Next, he managed to find some water from a stream nearby, where he cleaned his hands and mouth.
Within another 30 minutes, the bus was ready to brave the road once again. Soon they reached the area of Deuxieme-Plaine with its view on the beautiful two Lakes of Miragoane. From far away, Elis eyes could spot the fishermen at work for their daily catch. He had only seen these lakes in his little geography book. As such, Eli felt robbed of their beauty when the bus finally made it to a point where they could no longer be seen. Perhaps the mixture of such disappointment and the uneasiness due to his full belly could explain his behavior during the hours that followed. Eli went on to sleep deeply, still with his grip tightly wrapped around his bag. He was sleeping so soundly that he knew nothing about the bus stopping in Petit-Goave and Leogane.
The bus made it on time to the edge of the Capital, to catch the street lights of Carrefour go on. The sight of the busy boulevard, the relentless noise of the tap-taps, the neon lights from the Cafes of Martisant had gotten him wide awake and focussed. For a while he thought about the repeated question of the girl from Leogane in Rodrigue Milien's song: " Cha cha'a ye cha". The thought suddenly vanished as the driver pressed hard on the brake. They had reached Portail Leogane, where a number of people got off.
From there, Eli moved forward inside the bus, closer enough to ask the driver where he was. Apparently, his uncle whom he did not even know, was to pick him up at the last stop in Portail St Joseph. As the bus made its way through the lights on Boulevard Jean-Jacques Dessalines, a number of
unanswered questions invaded Eli's mind. He was not sure what to do, should his uncle decided not to show up. Overwhelmed by the somewhat festive environment in Downtown Port-au-Prince, and the ambiguity surrounding his fate in the next coming hours, he became frantically scared and visibly shaky.
After all, he did not have his uncle's address. News of his arrival was sent through a friend of his parents. Therefore, he was not sure whether his uncle was aware of his presence at the station.
In an attempt to help Eli calm his impulse, the driver reassured him that the prelates at the church of St Joseph usually lend a helping hand to people in distress, and that he could be safe there if need be. Should nothing change, he promised, he will bring Eli back home the next time he is in town. Eli's parents should be able to defray the cost of bringing their loving son back to them.
Chapter Three
The sky had gotten darker. Here and there, tiny rays of starlight forcibly penetrated the thick layer of clouds looming above. The air was filled with a strong smell of pot-pouri, a mixture of rotten fruits and vegetables left all over the ground of the nearby market, all that compounded by the nauseating sewer streams that meandered all around. Unlike back home, there were no fireflies, no crickets chirping, but rather a hurly-burly sliced by intermittent creasing of tires, some 50 yards further on the pavement of the boulevard. In between, the humming of some of the indigents around could be heard under some makeshift tents lightly lit by 'Tet-gridaps'. The front of the clustered boutiques was littered with people in all sorts of tattered accoutrements. This is where they lay down to sleep after a long day of begging in the streets of Port-au-Prince.
Once in a while, a few laughs would echo from under one particular tent, beside which light steam could be seen from a boiling pot filled with sweet potatoes. Soon, a man emerged from under the tent, followed by a woman and a half nude boy carrying a hat woven with palm straws. The man pulled out an old pipe, which he cleaned before filling it with raw tobacco. Next, he lit it and began a series of continuous puffs, his eyes glued to the sky, as if he were thinking about some great scientific discovery. For a while Eli wondered what he was thinking about. "Perhaps he is trying to figure out what number matches his dream last night," Eli thought to himself. He smiled...
Close by, the woman was arduously ventilating the fire under the pot, while the boy looked through the flames, meditative. The shimmering of the firelight in his face clearly exposed his impatience and hunger. Soon the pot was brought inside and the three disappeared.
Eli was sitting still on the very cemented stairs of the church, his eyes browsing the surroundings in search for his uncle. He had gotten more and more anxious, as the leisurely minutes passed by like years. The site of the flagrant poverty around had exacerbated his fear, and brought him a sad feeling of disappointment and a mixing rush of nostalgia. Realizing there were others who did not have anything at all, he comparatively construed that he was much more better off at home than he had previously thought.
10 minutes later, a man perhaps in his forties, with a gray trimmed moustache, tapped on Elis back with a smile. The latter one jumped with surprise, but quickly let out a sigh of relief:
- "Aaah Tonton!" Eli exclaimed, with his eyes wide opened.
- "Wi se Tonton Roland. Oh oh, gade gwosè Elifet mesie," his uncle clamored with an open mouth, that revealed the shiny silver adorning his two front teeth.
The two, seemingly happy to see one another, talked for a good while, taking turns to ask about the others immediate family members. Next, they proceeded toward the boulevard, to catch one of those multicolored tap-taps bound for Carrefour-Feuilles.
Chapter Four
Interminably, the tap-tap sliced through the labyrinth-like streets of Port-au-Prince. Although, it was dark, Eli had a quick glimpse of nocturnal life in Port-au-Prince, from the poverty-stricken La Saline area, the bidonvilles around the main cemetery, to the modern dwellings over the hills of Place-Jeremie. Finally, the bus contoured the steep hills leading to Hotel Olofson overlooking the capital. Then, at the corner of Routes Des Dalles and Rue Magloire Ambroise, it turned left to stop in the middle of a little market place, in front of the well-known Pharmacy St Raphael. That was as far up a tap-tap would go in Carrefour-Feuilles. There, Eli and his uncle got off and continued on toward the area known as 'Nan Tunel'.
A quarter of miles ahead, Tonton Roland turned left to a long, thickly populated corridor. At its entrance, four little girls were enjoying a game of 'Marel' drawn in the very dirt. A few meters aside, a group of boys were carrying a rather animated and loud conversation about soccer, in front of a 'Bak Fritay' right under the streetlight. Finally, a tired Eli made it to the house under the warm welcome of Roland's wife Aida, and their two kids Marie and Jacques.
The house was a two-room apartment, with a wooden latrine in the small back yard. Tonton Roland and his wife had used the back room for their own. A dark plastic drape was used to part the front room into two separate quarters. The first, in the middle, housed the kids' two small beds, while the second in front was used as a basic living room, with a table and four chairs in the middle. Several family portraits adorned the walls. Also, in one corner, a huge urn made out of red pottery could be seen, that kept fresh and cool water for the family.
Earlier in the afternoon, Aida had prepared her usual cornmeal, bean sauce and salt fish dish. And, Eli's food had been neatly placed in the middle of the table, under a dish cover. By the time he arrived, the cornmeal had hardened like a rock. Nevertheless, it had more than satisfied Eli's hungry appetite. Having been on the road for the entire day, Eli was rather famished. He had eaten his last mango during the very first minutes waiting for Tonton Roland. To him, this food was undoubtedly a God sent. It took him a mere 3 minutes to gulp the whole thing, under the peering eyes of his cousins.
13 years old Jacques was visibly happy to have had a bigger cousin around. To him, Eli's presence alone will quell the quarrelsome behavior of such neighborhood bullies like the two brothers Ti Roro and Mario. These two were particularly bad to him, and had cultivated a habit of hitting him, and mocking his father's line of work.
Though Tonton Roland, when referring to his job title had used such euphemism like Sanitary Engineer, people in the neighborhood had known him solely as the 'Bayakou.' Roland had a night shift at the Sanitary Department in downtown Port-au-Prince. About three to four days a week, he would leave at 8:00 PM to return around 2:00 AM. This was not a job of which he was proud. however, it regularly put food on his table. After all, he was among the few fathers around to have had a steady job. Perhaps it was jealousy from the part of Ti Roro and Mario, whose father was the neighborhood small time 'Machan'n Bòlèt.' Without sharing it with Eli, Jacques savoured the thought of having his cousin around, with great satisfaction, and let out a smile in the corner of his mouth. "Now, I will have someone to guard my back," he thought.
Soon it was time for bed, and Eli was given a clean quilted comforter and a pillow, which he placed on the floor, between the kids' beds to sleep that night. Tonton Roland had promised to buy him one of those folding beds in downtown tomorrow.
Next, Aida and her husband withdrew to their room the light went off, and Eli quickly fell asleep. Jacques off course had hoped to hear one of those crazy bedtime stories from Eli, but the latter one was too tired for that. "Another, night... Another night," Jacques had thought to himself.
Chapter Five
Like many mornings before, a jet of sunrays came bursting through one corner of the front door, to project its light onto the kids' room, via one of the portraits' glass from the living room. Another hot summer day had announced itself, gay and sudden. Eli's eyes had been wide opened since a couple of hours earlier, in anticipation of his first full day in the Capital.
Soon everyone was awake. Aida went on to the front porch, one side of which was converted into a little kitchenette, to prepare the family's breakfast. Eli and Jacques followed to the other side of the gallery, to watch the neighborhood folks go back and forth in the corridor. Once in a while, one of them would salute Aida when their eyes meet.
-" Bonjou Madan Roland, " they would say.
-" Ooh! Bonjou wi..." Aida would reply instinctively.
Next, Aida took her three-legged grill to the back of the house, shook the ashes out of it, and came back to the gallery. She then undid a tied up charcoal sac and added more pieces of charcoal on the grill, before realizing she was out of 'bwa-pen.'-(Pieces of greasy, flammable pine wood that helps keep the charcoal alight)- Hence, she commissioned Marie to go fetch a piece of bwa-pen from Madan Joe, a neighbor across the corridor.
In the meantime, Eli and Jacques had walked to the nearby street side market to buy some freshly baked bread. Upon their return, Tonton Roland was already up and waiting by the table, his brewed coffee fuming right under his very nose. Meanwhile, Aida was twisting the cloth-made coffee strainer to suck the dark liquid out of it. Earlier, after filling both her cup and her husband's, she had poured more water into the already soaked filter to apparently lower the level of caffeine, before serving the kids. According to a Haitian belief, that should help calming kids' nerve, and prevent any disrespecting outburst from their part. Aida then dabbed some peanut butter between everyone's sliced bread, and the family began to eat.
Some hours later, Jacques took Eli on a tour around the neighborhood. He presented his cousin to a few friends, and made sure to warn him about Ti-Roro and Mario. The two proceeded to a play area on a nearby soccer field. There, several boys were enjoying a game of marble on the dirt, under the umbrageous cover of a nut tree. A few others, including Ti-Roro and his twin brother were bouncing a soccer ball on a graffiti covered wall, by a mango tree. The sun was at its pick, and the kids literally abstained from playing in the middle of the field, for fear of dehydration.
Eli took a quick look at the two brothers, who he found rather slim. Comparatively, Eli was tall and strong, and would stand in a crowd, a feature they said he had inherited from his Grandpa. However, he soon understood Jacques' founded worries, in light of the brothers' furtiveness and obvious belligerent behavior. Nevertheless, the latter ones seemed to have acknowledged Eli's presence, as they had kept their usual bickering for themselves. To Jacques' great surprise, they even invited Eli to play along. Soon, Eli and the two brothers seemed to have formed an obvious bond that sealed the beginning of a strong, long lasted friendship. From that day on, they had never bothered Jacques about his father, or anything else for that matter. Jacques finally, could not have been any happier.
Later on that afternoon, Eli had come back home to find his brand new folding bed, along with some new 'Pepe' clothes that Tonton Roland had bought him from downtown. Eli's new life was somewhat overwhelming. He was surprised that all day, he had not been thinking about back home. Basically, there was so much to look forward to. His first preoccupation, he admitted during a small talk with Tonton Roland, revolved around how to make some money and take a leap toward the United States. Eli's most nurtured wish was to get his mother and father out of their grim life in Saint-Jean Du Sud.
At first, Tonton Roland seemed not willing to oppose his nephew's refusal to go back to school. He understood that life was too short, and that some could find themselves busy trying to survive. The way to make it was definitely not by going to school, as proven by the numerous youngsters wandering jobless around the neighborhood after college. However he persuaded Eli to continue school, arguing that it will give him the most needed edge in life. October was near, and Eli then got enrolled in Lycee Petion some 4 miles walk from home, in the Bel-Air area.
Chapter Six
Three years had passed by, and Eli was now in 3eme at the Lycee. He had made some considerable stride in school, and had put the US aside in his minds. His last efforts to acquire a visa had been met with great disappointment at the American embassy. In all three times he was rejected. Finally he threw his passport in a big suitcase to never think about the US again.
At the Lycee, he and his cousin Jacques who joined him there a year earlier, had made a number of good friends. Now, Eli was a permanent member of the school soccer team. And, because of his skills, his coach had been approached by officials from such national teams as the Violette Athletic Club and Don-Bosco, about his possible recruitment for the upcoming season. Eli had suddenly become a star in his neighborhood of Carrefour-Feuilles. Last summer, his incredible exploits during an inter-zone championship had brought all eyes on him. During the final game, he alone had marked the two winning goals that brought the long sought for trophy to the team from Carrefour-Feuilles.
In light of all this, Eli and his school coach had developed a bond, which some other teammates saw with a different eye. Some of them had become openly jealous of Eli, and in many occasions had tried to belittle his great skills.
During a training session, one teammate literally attacked Eli in force, in a move that disclosed his obvious intention to break Eli's leg. The situation fishtailed into a fistfight that left the other teammate, a certain Paul, with a broken jaw. Paul was quickly driven to the main Hospital, where he underwent an operation.
The following day, while coming out of class, Eli was accosted by two heavily armed men in blue uniform. Without saying anything at all, they took Eli to a green army jeep waiting outside, and sped away. News of his arrest spread around the school like wild fire. Jacques literally flew home that day to alert his parents.
Upon hearing the news, Aida almost passed out; and feeling all her intestines twisting inside of her, she let out a shrill cry that attracted the attention of all of her surrounding neighbors.
-"Mezami woy, mezanmi woy. Yo pral touye pitit gason mou'n yo sou kont mwen," She lamented.
In a sudden move, Aida's two feet gave away and her 240 Lbs came crashing over the hard cemented floor of the gallery.
-"Li pap mouri, Madan Roland, li pap mouri," Madan Joe tried in vain to reassure her.
-"Amwe, amwe, makout yo pral fizie pitit mou'n yo sou kont mwen. Kote Roland, mezanmi, kote Roland," she continued on hysterically.
In the meantime, another neighbor had prepared a cup of Veven'n tea, and rushed in to force Aida to drink it, soon after she helped carrying her inside the house. A few people had gathered in front of the house, discussing the family's options, as one diligent boy ran to fetch Tonton Roland from a nearby cock-fighting arena.
Soon Tonton Roland arrived and inquired about the situation. Then, he quickly passed on his hat, and headed out of the corridor, visibly shaken and disconcerted. Boss Joe followed on, and the two took a taxi to the main Police station at the edge of the Champs-De-Mars park. In the Taxi, Tonton Roland expressed his concern about Eli's life. He knew that he did not have much time. In any minute now, Eli could be dead, should he have fallen in the wrong hand. Therefore, by hook or by crook, he felt that he had to get Eli out; but by God, out of where? That, he did not know yet.
At the station, the Officer in charge denied having seen anyone that day, and advised the two men to go to the main prison down in Rue Du Centre. In light of Tonton Roland's histrionics, The officer convincingly rechecked all his paperwork to confirm his previous argument.
The two guys then proceeded on foot, and walked the two blocks down Rue Des Casernes, and turned left on Rue Du Centre toward the prison. Once again there was no sign of Eli. Next, the men's headed toward the 'Cafeteria', another Police substation on Boulevard Jean Jacques Dessalines, to learn that no one there either had seen Eli coming.
Tonton Roland's fear now had grown from bad to worst. The perspective of his nephew's death suddenly had become horribly ominous. For a minute, the entire Eli's life episode in Port-au-Prince had flashed in front of his uncle. The latter one recalled Eli's smile the first time the two met in Portail St Joseph. From this moment on, Eli had brought nothing but joy to the family. Tonton Roland searched in vain for anything that could incriminate Eli. Then, he came to realizing how much everyone in the neighborhood loved the boy. Not one time had Eli been disrespectful to him or to anyone for that matter. The boy never got in trouble, though he was strong built. "That Paul must have really worked hard to get Eli in that mess," Tonton Roland thought to himself.
Chapter Seven
10 minutes had passed by, and Tonton Roland was still sitting in front of the Cafeteria, trying to sort the many thoughts that crammed his mind at the moment. Holding his head between his two hands, he looked dreamily thoughtful, and visibly fretful. His worst fear was to have to go shoveling the remains of his nephew in 'Titanyen.'-(An area along side Haiti's northern highway, where criminals usually dispose of their victims' bodies)-
Beside that, his last option was to go to Fort-Dimanche, the bastion of the timorous Macoutes. This prison was built to relatively discourage political dissidents. However, powerful Haitians who wanted to get rid of their enemies, would find a way to trigger their arrest and have them brought here, basically knowing that the chance of leaving the place alive was very slim. It was the Haitian version of the Soviet's Syberian Gulag. The prisoners there were comparatively subjected to the most inhuman treatments. Most of them were confined in cells about half their own height, in total darkness. Those that escaped the daily random killing, certainly would not overcome the systemic beatings and torture in that diseases ravaged prison.
Oftentimes, the prisoners' own family would abstain from visiting, for fear of being persecuted or arrested themselves. One had to know somebody powerful, who in return knew somebody else even more powerful, before being allowed to visit or retrieve a family member from Fort-Dimanche. Of course, Tonton Roland knew no such powerful person. Therefore, the idea of bringing his face to that place, was literally far fetched.
Suddenly, Boss Joe had an idea. He squarely proposed to bring the issue to that Colonel, living two blocks down the street from them. While, Tonton Roland never exchanged a word with the Colonel, Eli sure did in many occasions. Having sponsored the team from the area, the Colonel, whom adored soccer, had assisted many of the games last summer, including the finals. As such, he had become fond of Eli, and had even invited him home, along with the other teammates after the finals, for a quick celebration. A light of hope flashed in front of Tonton Roland, and the two quickly took the next passing tap-tap home.
Colonel Germain lived in a two-story building on the street to the right of the Pharmacy St Raphael. He was a tall and thin man, with the allure of a peacock. Not surprisingly, he was enjoying a great deal of attention from the ladies around the neighborhood. When he was not wearing his sharp kaki uniform, he was seen in short pants scanning the neighborhood on his balcony reinforced by iron bars. But, most importantly, he was known to have a good heart.
Upon receiving the news, the visibly upset Colonel made a couple of phone calls. The words he exchanged with the last person on the other side of the line came to confirm Tonton Roland's worst fear. Eli was definitely placed in Fort-Dimanche. After inquiring about Eli's exact whereabouts, the Colonel took the two men down to Fort-Dimanche in his jeep.
In the way there, the colonel was humble enough to apologize for the mischief perpetrated by a number of people under the umbrella of Macoutism. He had gone a long way to explain the true idea behind Macoutism, and particularly distanced the establishment from what he called, a bunch of overbearing, opportunistic thugs. He admitted to understand the fear created among the people by many of the Macoutes, and certainly did not feel offended when neither Boss Joe, nor Tonton Roland responded in support of his arguments. He knew they were afraid of saying the wrong thing. So, without being forceful, he continued on with the monologue.
Chapter Eight
Before heading for Fort-Dimanche, the colonel stopped at the National Palace to meet with someone obviously important. He soon came back with a paper; then without wasting any time, he continued his way toward the prison.
The three men took the main highway to the north, and at some point, turned left on a dusty road that seemed to lead to nowhere. That road parted a deserted, lifeless area, to finally end in front of an impressive fortification near the swampy seashore line, north of the capital. Suddenly, Tonton Roland believed why some people had claimed that many prisoners often picked a heart attack, prior to even entering the building. This kind of environment could really bring the worst out of the squeamish average Haitian.
The sun was long set when they arrived at Fort-Dimanche. Once there, only Colonel Germain was allowed to go inside. Tonton Roland and boss Joe remained in the Jeep outside, seemingly praying that nothing bad had happened to Eli. 10 minutes had passed, then two silhouettes emerged from the main door. That was Eli supported by the colonel. It was obvious that he had been beaten, as he was limping on one foot on the way to the car.
Once in the car, Tonton Roland took a good look at his nephew, and shook his head bewildered.
-"Mezanmi! Fok nou mennen m'sie lopital wi," he said, focussing on the red blood gushing from Eli's broken knee.
-"Ou pa bezwen pè. Nou pral avèk li lopital," the colonel quickly replied. Then after making an almost 360 degree turn, he pressed hard on the gas, leaving behind a thick cloud of dust that seemed like a giant dragon trying to swallow the car in the dark road.
Eli's uniform was torn apart, his mouth swollen and his left knee broken. He was moaning desperately under the excruciating pain. In a barely audible voice, Eli explained how the soldiers took him to a house blindfolded, over the hills of Fort-National, overlooking Champs-De-Mars. There, they beat him, broke his left leg, promising him a slow death in the cold cells of Fort-Dimanche. They claimed to be teaching him a lesson "for messing up with the wrong person". Apparently, Paul's uncle was a powerful Macoute. Therefore, that explained why Colonel Germain needed a release paper from a higher authority at the National Palace.
Soon they arrived at the Hospital, and Eli underwent an operation on his left knee. The patella on that knee was literally smashed, and the crunchy ligaments joining the femur, the fibula and tibia bones were almost all detached under the repeating assault of a club. Eli's very promising future in the National Soccer League had been suddenly sapped, thanks to some scornful, jealous teammate. For now, Eli was to remain in that hospital for at least two months with his leg hung high on a stretcher. While Eli will no longer be able to play the way he used to, Tonton Roland was more than relieved to have found him alive.
In the way back home, he relentlessly praised the effort of the colonel, admitting that he could not be thankful enough for the good Samaritan saving his nephew's life. More impressively, the colonel went as far as promising to incur the cost of Eli's medical treatments, and went out of his way to drop Tonton Roland and Boss Joe right by the corridor, in front of a curious crowd.
-"Mezanmi, guen bon solda nan peyi ya wi," Tonton Roland confided to Boss Joe, as the two made their way through a throng of people waiting to hear about Eli.
Chapter Nine
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