Read Online Because We Are: A Novel of Haiti by Ted Oswald - Free Book Online
Authors: Ted Oswald
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toward the house. He helped her make it inside before disappearing into the darkness without another word.
Not a drop was spilled.
The police truck trundles through the opening of the wall painted with a blue bottom and a white top, into the courtyard of the building painted with a blue bottom and a white top. It seems a villa looking out on a sea of shanty homes, but it is not. The letters
Commissariat de Police de Cité Soleil
appear in blue above the villa’s entryway, flanked by a painted Haitian flag and the national emblem depicting cannon, rifles, a palm, and the phrase “
L’Union Fait La Force
”
—
Unity Makes Strength.
Libète and Jak sit in the cab of the police truck, next to Officer Simeon. They are uneasy. The truck passes the contingent of United Nations soldiers posted next to the police station, with their tents, vehicles, and weapons. Many men with many guns patrol in front of the compound. But this does not make the children nervous. No, they shudder because they know they will soon face Inspector Dimanche, a man known by all, and feared by all.
— Take this, Simeon says, handing Jak an oversized shirt to cover his naked torso. They plucked him from the street where he was playing, not giving him the chance to go home and change. The shirt is bright yellow and new, and reads “
Ansanm pou lapè
,” together for peace. You can’t go in there naked. And you can keep it.
Jak smiles, for he has never been given a new shirt.
— Come on you two, Simeon smiles back. We need to talk to Dimanche.
The trio walk into the station. It is quieter than the children expect it to be.
— Most everyone is away for the weekend, Simeon explains. Dimanche worked most of yesterday even though he was off, inspecting the bodies, interviewing the family. Now he wants to talk to you.
Simeon rapped on an office door tagged with a sheet of paper on which was scrawled “Dimanche.”
— Come in, they heard barked from within.
Simeon opened the door to a white-walled office with no ostentation. Dimanche was seated at a desk, a pad of paper before him, pen in hand.
— Thank you for coming. Please, sit. He signaled toward two vacant seats in front of the desk. Libète sat down resolutely with arms crossed, while Jak hesitated before finally seating himself. The children’s feet dangled from the tall chairs. Simeon leaned against the wall near the door.
In truth, Libète was as nervous as Jak, though she had learned the value of feigning confidence in situations where she felt anything but.
— I’m glad you wanted to talk with us, Libète said matter-of-factly. It’s about time.
— Is that so? Dimanche said, shifting his formidable weight in his chair and raising an eyebrow.
— Yes. It shows you’re actually doing your job.
Dimanche’s lips curled into a bemused smile.
— We need to find out who killed Claire and her baby, she continued. Out there, we see lots of bad things happen and the police do nothing.
Jak was mortified, mouth agape.
— She doesn’t mean any of that, Inspector. She knows you work very, very hard and—
Dimanche held up a hand to silence Jak, his eyes locked on Libète.
— That’s quite the indictment of us, Dimanche said. She didn’t know what an indictment was but pushed on.
— Yes, it is. You sit on your asses and let all the vagabonds escape the law.
Simeon stifled a disbelieving chortle. Jak stared, still dumbfounded. She had seen Dimanche pummel a man to a pulp just as Jak had, and heard other stories of Dimanche’s reputation for using his fists rather than words. What possessed her to speak this way to the head inspector in Cité Soleil?
— I’ll let you know, child, that I don’t disagree with you. Too many of my men are lazy and it is a constant battle I fight. I appreciate that you are forthright with your opinions. Too few are. My only defense is that I work hard, but crimes mount on top of crimes. Already there was a shooting last night—
— You
Not a drop was spilled.
The police truck trundles through the opening of the wall painted with a blue bottom and a white top, into the courtyard of the building painted with a blue bottom and a white top. It seems a villa looking out on a sea of shanty homes, but it is not. The letters
Commissariat de Police de Cité Soleil
appear in blue above the villa’s entryway, flanked by a painted Haitian flag and the national emblem depicting cannon, rifles, a palm, and the phrase “
L’Union Fait La Force
”
—
Unity Makes Strength.
Libète and Jak sit in the cab of the police truck, next to Officer Simeon. They are uneasy. The truck passes the contingent of United Nations soldiers posted next to the police station, with their tents, vehicles, and weapons. Many men with many guns patrol in front of the compound. But this does not make the children nervous. No, they shudder because they know they will soon face Inspector Dimanche, a man known by all, and feared by all.
— Take this, Simeon says, handing Jak an oversized shirt to cover his naked torso. They plucked him from the street where he was playing, not giving him the chance to go home and change. The shirt is bright yellow and new, and reads “
Ansanm pou lapè
,” together for peace. You can’t go in there naked. And you can keep it.
Jak smiles, for he has never been given a new shirt.
— Come on you two, Simeon smiles back. We need to talk to Dimanche.
The trio walk into the station. It is quieter than the children expect it to be.
— Most everyone is away for the weekend, Simeon explains. Dimanche worked most of yesterday even though he was off, inspecting the bodies, interviewing the family. Now he wants to talk to you.
Simeon rapped on an office door tagged with a sheet of paper on which was scrawled “Dimanche.”
— Come in, they heard barked from within.
Simeon opened the door to a white-walled office with no ostentation. Dimanche was seated at a desk, a pad of paper before him, pen in hand.
— Thank you for coming. Please, sit. He signaled toward two vacant seats in front of the desk. Libète sat down resolutely with arms crossed, while Jak hesitated before finally seating himself. The children’s feet dangled from the tall chairs. Simeon leaned against the wall near the door.
In truth, Libète was as nervous as Jak, though she had learned the value of feigning confidence in situations where she felt anything but.
— I’m glad you wanted to talk with us, Libète said matter-of-factly. It’s about time.
— Is that so? Dimanche said, shifting his formidable weight in his chair and raising an eyebrow.
— Yes. It shows you’re actually doing your job.
Dimanche’s lips curled into a bemused smile.
— We need to find out who killed Claire and her baby, she continued. Out there, we see lots of bad things happen and the police do nothing.
Jak was mortified, mouth agape.
— She doesn’t mean any of that, Inspector. She knows you work very, very hard and—
Dimanche held up a hand to silence Jak, his eyes locked on Libète.
— That’s quite the indictment of us, Dimanche said. She didn’t know what an indictment was but pushed on.
— Yes, it is. You sit on your asses and let all the vagabonds escape the law.
Simeon stifled a disbelieving chortle. Jak stared, still dumbfounded. She had seen Dimanche pummel a man to a pulp just as Jak had, and heard other stories of Dimanche’s reputation for using his fists rather than words. What possessed her to speak this way to the head inspector in Cité Soleil?
— I’ll let you know, child, that I don’t disagree with you. Too many of my men are lazy and it is a constant battle I fight. I appreciate that you are forthright with your opinions. Too few are. My only defense is that I work hard, but crimes mount on top of crimes. Already there was a shooting last night—
— You
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