Seductive Poison

by Deborah Layton

  The rules were endless; besides having no privacy at home, we were not allowed to leave the house unless we were with at least one other person. It was impossible to ever be alone. We all slept together on the floors or wherever we could find space and there was always someone awake. I wondered if Sharon ever slept.

  Fourteen days after my assignment to coordinate all PR in the capital, Sharon innocently handed me the key to my escape.

  It was late, nearing midnight. As usual, we had the radio turned on low. I was updating the assignments for the following day, when low voices seemed to speak to us.

  “Eight Arr One … Eight Arr One … Come in, Eight Arr One … This is Eight Arr Three … Over.”

  I ran to the radio. “Eight Arr Three, this is Eight Arr One. Over.”

  “Eight Arr One? Lucinda? There’s been an accident. One of the children was accidentally hit in the head with a baseball bat. We need to have him airlifted to Caracas for immediate medical treatment.” Then he asked for Sharon by her code name. “Get me Anna. Over.”

  I wondered if the child had been hurt during a catharsis session.

  Sharon rushed to the radio and knelt down next to me.

  “Eight Arr Three, this is Anna. Over.”

  “Call the embassy, or, better yet, get the ambassador at home. Get someone quickly and tell them there’s been an accident. Tell them a child fell from the play structure and needs to be airlifted immediately. And we cannot readily attain his passport. Can he be transported without it? Over.” He fell from a structure at this time of night?

  “Eight Arr Three, I read you. Over.”

  “Good, we’ll return to Stateside and connect on this frequency at one-forty. Over.”

  Sharon, though tiny in size, was a powerhouse of emotions and energy. Before I could get off the floor, she was on the telephone with the ambassador.

  “Sorry to call you in the middle of the night, but we have a serious emergency…. Yes, well, thank you … Mmmhm, we appreciate your having given us your home number for critical situations like this. Uh-huh … Well, we need to have the child airlifted. Really? Okay, good then. Now, does the child need a passport under these circumstances? Oh? Mmmhmm … Is that right? Well, Jim asked that I convey his appreciation for everything you have done and continue to do on our behalf and I’m sorry for raising you from your slumbers.” She hung up the phone. “Imagine that … they can issue a passport in fifteen minutes if it’s an emergency. Lucinda …” She turned to me and it took all my strength and self-control to hide the wild hope that surged through my body. I prayed that my face wasn’t flushed with excitement.

  “Debbie? Are you listening? Tomorrow you’ll need to go, alone, to make arrangements. I need to stay here to check communications with Father. No one can know this piece of information. Plan to be there early.”

  At 7 A.M., on my way to the embassy, I took a small detour into the lobby of the Pegasus Hotel. I remembered that there was a bank of public phones just around the corner from the front reception desk, near the elevator. All five phones were occupied. Not wanting to look tense, I tried to calm myself by looking at the tranquil, smooth blue water of the hotel swimming pool. I was startled by the appearance, out of nowhere, of an elderly East Indian man dressed in a tan-colored shawl, burlap pants, and scruffy leather sandals.

  “Relax, little one. I cun see yur worried.” His skin was smooth and creamy brown, his eyes as black as my musings.

  I smiled and looked down, hinting that he should disappear.

  “Yur a somber little one. I haven’t seen despair in a face so young, in many years.”

  I looked around to make sure no one had noticed. I didn’t want him to draw attention to me. Self-professed psychic … Why doesn’t he … ?

  “… Take leave of you? I can, but not ’fore cautioning you, little one.”

  “Yur in danger, child. Listen closely to me words …”

  Even though his clothes were baggy and wrinkled, he had no odor. He didn’t smell of liquor, either.

  “Keep yur thoughts secret …” he murmured as I turned away from him.

  With a phone now free, I bolted over, picked up the receiver, and dialed “O.”

  “A storm has begun,” he whispered after me. “Beware tha’ one who cares the most.”

  The operator answered.

  “Collect call to Davis, California …” I took a deep breath and turned around. He was gone. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

  The ringing continued and sounded far away. I peeked around the corner to see if anyone familiar had entered the lobby.

  Suddenly, I was connected to the other side.

  “Annalisa …”

  “Debbie? I never received your letter and I’ve been frantic. Tell me what’s going on down there.”

  “I couldn’t get away alone to mail it.”

  “What? You’re being watched? Oh my God! Go to the American Embassy, now! Their job is to protect American citizens.”

  “No. I can’t. Jim has them all hoodwinked. I’m afraid to tell them anything until I know exactly what I’m doing. I think they’re going into Jonestown pretty soon and if they see Jim after I talk to them, they could tell him everything and blow my cover. It’s just too dangerous to approach them until the day I’m ready to leave.”

  “Debbie. Listen. I’ve got a plan. Ray is actually going to South America in a few weeks on United Nations business. We are going to pretend that the whole family is going and we’ll need you as a baby-sitter. I’ll book the flights for you and make detailed hotel reservations in case they double-check. You’ll receive the telegram tomorrow at your headquarters with the itinerary. This will work, honey. You’ll see. I’ll help you escape.”

  Hanging up the phone, I felt weak with relief. I wouldn’t have to risk blowing my cover at the embassy. My big sister was going to help me.

  When Annalisa’s telegram came at noon the next day, I felt ecstatic and invigorated. I respectfully showed it to Sharon first, then got on the radio to transmit the information to Jonestown.

  “Eight Arr Three, this is Eight Arr One. Come in, Eight Arr Three.” There was silence. “Eight Arr Three, this is Eight Arr One, come in, Eight Arr Three. Over.”

  “This is Eight Arr Three. We read you loud and clear, Eight Arr One. Lucinda, how did the tea party [code for blackmail] at the embassy go? Over.”

  “Eight Arr Three, they have not returned from the appointment, yet. Actually, I have a different issue to transmit. Over.”

  “You may proceed, Eight Arr One. Over.”

  “We just received a telegram from my sister in the United States. I thought I should read it to Jim. Over.”

  “Eight Arr One, he is in the room. Please read said communiqué. Over.”

  “It reads as follows … ‘Dear Debbie: Ray has been invited by several South American governments, in his capacity as the United Nations expert on nitrogen fixation, to give lectures regarding his findings. Our travel and those of the children have been paid for by the United Nations. Ray is scheduled to speak before prime ministers and many other government officials regarding his suggestion to implement his findings in their countries. Because this trip is so important and I’ve been invited to attend the meetings, I would like you to come with us and tend to the children. Of course, you will have the opportunity to meet with the prime ministers as well.’” I knew Jim would like that. I would be making important contacts we could use later. Annalis had gotten wise, fast …

  “Eight Arr Three? Shall I continue with itinerary information? Over.”

  There was a long pause and I presumed they were discussing the validity of the telegram.

  “Yes, Eight Arr One. Continue. Over.”

  “My sister has listed my Pan Am flight on May 12 to Caracas, where we’ll stay for four days at the Holiday Inn, confirmation number five-five-two-two-three. Then, on May 16, they’re scheduled to travel to Port of Spain, then two days later to Colombia, Peru, Brazil, and then back to Caracas. The trip s
pans almost three weeks and shows my return to Georgetown on …”

  “Lucinda!” Father was now at the controls. He sounded perturbed. “This is a ploy. It’s a scam. I discern a kidnapping plan in the works. Perhaps they think you need deprogramming.”

  “Uh-huh … Yeeessss, oh … that’s right! I hadn’t really listened to the letter’s words that carefully, till I read it again to you.” I could feel my face turning bright red. “I don’t think Sharon even caught that,” I added, desperate to remove myself from his suspicions. “I’ll write a telegram and tell her that I am not interested in their plans.” My heart continued to pound. I wiped at the perspiration that had begun to run down my arms. Thank goodness I was the only one in the radio room.

  “Lucinda. Have Sharon double-check and examine carefully all the confirmation numbers and arrangements mentioned on the itinerary. It may not be safe for you to stay in the capital much longer. The boat is scheduled to come out the day after the embassy visit on May 10. That’s in less than ten days. Plan to come home where you’ll be safely protected.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll also make sure that I’m always with several people when I leave headquarters for any reason.” I felt a lump in my throat.

  “Good soldier.” Father’s voice was soothing and sweet, assuring me he had no idea I was in any way involved with this diabolical hoax.

  Dear God, if you can hear me, where do I go from here? Who can I turn to for help?

  “Eight Arr One, do you read me?”

  “This is Eight Arr One.”

  “Lucinda? Did you hear what we just said? Do not send a telegram to your sister. Call her. Tell her. They must know we are onto them!”

  “Roger, I copy.”

  “We didn’t hear your reply.”

  “Must have spoken at the same time. Over.”

  “What was your transmission? Over.”

  “I said … uh, I’ll call when the rates are low, later on this evening. Over.” I was unable to concentrate any longer. The telegram had been a fiasco. They were sending the boat out to bring me back.

  “Eight Arr One, we are closing down for the dinner line. Report to us tomorrow regarding discussion with known adversary. Over.”

  “I copy. Over. Eight Arr Three, this is Eight Arr One. Over and out.”

  I placed the handset on the radio and slowly ascended the stairs to the main house. A warm breeze blew against my face, trying to dry the beads of perspiration that covered my skin. I noticed the clothesline, weighed down with jeans, T-shirts, and underwear, all a uniform gray. The wash bucket still sat under the stairs, filled with dark brown, dingy water.

  I proceeded down the hallway and into the far bathroom. I securely closed the door behind me. Turning on the faucet, I waited till the gush of water was full and loud. Then, holding my cramping stomach, I bowed my head over the basin and began to vomit.

  Time was barely creeping forward. It was almost unbearable. What sustained my courage was knowing I was not alone anymore, that my sister was out there and was on heightened alert. When I had last spoken with Annalis, I had had to talk to her with Sharon in the room. I had to sound cross and distant because I had to prove to Sharon—and Father—that I was untouched by my sister’s proposition. It was hard to sustain my composure, but Annalis saved the situation. She was so very clever in her responses. Her matter-of-fact voice calmed me. First, she asked if it was just us, she and I, on the line.

  “Okay, that’s good, I’ll make it quick. Just listen to me. Okay now, if you’re being watched, roll your eyes with disgust. The ticket I spoke of in the telegram is waiting for you at Pan Am, for May twelfth, Georgetown to Caracas. I’m sorry you have to wait so long, but it’s the first seat available out of Guyana. I’m holding the Caracas to New York segment in your middle name in case they’re monitoring flights to America. I know you won’t be able to call me anymore so listen closely: Tom is ready to fly down there immediately. If you want him to come down and help you, cough now…. Okay, then, well stick to the original plan. May twelfth you go to the embassy. Call me from there. I know you’re afraid, honey, but you can do this! Debbie, you’re brave and you’re doing the right thing. Okay, tell me you have way more important things to do than to spend three weeks baby-sitting Lori and David. I love you, Debs.”

  After this conversation, I was less able to keep my feelings and thoughts intact. I could barely maintain my civility anymore. Karen wrote me up to Jim for being rude and “pissy.” I saw parts of her note in the envelope going to Father. I wanted desperately to get out, but my flight wasn’t scheduled for another ten days. I had to persevere.

  At night, I was haunted by Teresa’s admonition to me in Switzerland: “Remember, you talk in your sleep when you’re worried. Be careful … Sleep where others cannot hear you.”

  I would always wait until everyone was asleep, then hunt for an abandoned corner. If there wasn’t one, I would sit up all night at the kitchen table, while warning signals ricocheted through my head.

  Mom kept writing me letters. It was important to look as though I read them, but the fact of the matter was, I couldn’t. I was unable even to look at her handwriting. I knew that I would lose my resolve if I did. I was precariously close to rushing back to her if I was told she needed me. Even though I knew that Mama now shared a cabin with Mary, I was always aware that she missed me and I worked hard not to think about it. I had to forget her. I could help her more from far away, once I got out of there.

  I knew that if I did not have my wits about me, they would get me just like they had Margarita, the young Amerindian woman whom I had befriended. The night Margarita cried hysterically at the news that her baby had just died in the Georgetown hospital, I held her in my arms. While I rocked and consoled her, Sharon barged in with a Temple-friendly doctor. Against Margarita’s will, he filled her veins with huge doses of Thorazine. That dread-filled night I sat holding my newfound friend’s writhing body, trying to comfort her, powerless, too afraid to intervene. Why, I wondered, couldn’t she be allowed to grieve? As Margarita faded into a zombie stupor and I prepared her few things for the boat to take her back into the jungle, I was acutely aware that had my comrades known of my treasonous thoughts, this just as easily could have been me.

  The next day, just after I had locked myself into the bathroom to hide my overwhelming grief for my friend, a hard and rapid knock sounded at the door.

  “Lucinda? I have a letter from your mom.”

  I jumped up to wipe my face.

  “I’ll be right out.” Another one of Mama’s letters.

  “Did you respond to her last one?”

  “Yeah …”

  “I don’t remember proofing it. Did it go in with the Cudjoe?”

  “Pretty sure …”

  I flushed the toilet and threw more water on my blotchy, red face, then opened the door.

  “My, you look positively … radiant.” Sharon laughed. “Here …” She handed me the envelope. “I didn’t realize you’d slept downstairs last night.” She had been monitoring me.

  She watched me open the envelope, turn, and walk down the hall. Her footsteps followed me.

  “Boil, boil, toil and trouble …” She screeched after me, pretending to be a witch. The hairs on my arms bristled. “What’s all this secrecy? Where are you going?”

  “I thought I’d read Mom’s letter downstairs on my bed roll.”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m fine. I was just thinking about Margarita.”

  “Well,” she exhaled with indignation. “That’s all over, isn’t it? She’s left for Port Kaituma.”

  “I know. I’d hoped to say good-bye.”

  “Well, that wasn’t necessary, was it?”

  I nodded and turned. What a bitch. I struggled to remain calm.

  “Lucinda? Are you listening to me? I said Jim wants me to accompany the consul into Jonestown on May tenth and stay there a few weeks. Beth and Deirdre will be coming out to take my place here.�
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  I hardly heard her sputtering about all the logistics. There was the meeting with the Russian Embassy regarding our immigration and the arrangement to be made with the Cuban ambassador for an advance group of Temple PR people to visit Cuba. Then Beth and I had to record our blackmail of the American consul. Jim wanted his remark, that we should “shoot down” planes flying over the compound and threatening us, on tape. I watched Sharon’s lips moving. Spittle had collected at the outer creases.

  My heart was sinking. Beth would come to the capital. Did I have to betray her, too? How could I? I knew I would have to use her, use her friendship to conduct my deceitful plan because I knew she would give me space to be alone. I would be able to check on my flight, make sure the ticket for the twelfth, at 11:55 P.M., was waiting for me at Pan Am.

  I could hardly stand to think about my last conversation with Beth in the cabin when I said good-bye. I didn’t want to stab her in the back. If only she would stay in Jonestown. There, she wouldn’t be able to take my betrayal personally and she couldn’t be blamed. But here, if I got away, Jim would probably denounce her and hold her responsible. Would she be ostracized and punished for allowing this to happen? I prayed Jim wouldn’t forbid her to see her baby Chioke as a punishment for being my accomplice.