“Are you listening, Lucinda? What’s the matter with you? Put an asterisk next to your meeting at the American Embassy on May twelfth. You’ll be taping the consul. You and Beth must get him to repeat, ‘Shoot the planes down.’ Father says once we have his statement on tape, we have an official declaration to arm and protect ourselves. It will prove the embassy knew we have weapons.” She smiled and wiped the corners of her mouth. “Oh, Beth wanted me to relay a message: Since you didn’t bring one, she’ll share it here with you. Does that make sense?”
Beth agreed that I should go alone to arrange for the blackmail meeting. I had falsely reported earlier to her that I’d called the embassy several times but the line was busy. I’d brazenly suggested it would be best if I ran over in the morning to confirm our noon appointment. It was 10 A.M. and Beth would join me just before noon.
I made sure the recorder was well hidden in my satchel and hurried down the dirt road toward the capital. I could smell the sea water as it wafted through on the breeze. It would take me about twenty minutes to get to the embassy. I tried to determine how much time that would leave me for my plans. The heat of the day had not warmed my chilled and bristling skin. I could see the American flag flapping from the tall silver pole at the embassy. I increased my jaunt to a jog until I reached the doors.
The embassy secretary greeted me. I explained that I needed to talk with the consul immediately. She asked me to sit down while she tried to locate him. I looked around and decided to sit on a metal folding chair situated outside the consul’s office. I saw that his desk was covered with documents and different colored folders. A dark green mug was next to his telephone.
A good-looking young man walked by and offered me some coffee.
“Oh yes! With real cream?”
“Isn’t that how it’s always served?”
“Not in Jonestown.”
“Oh! Excuse me. My name is Dan. I’m the vice consul. Isn’t your meeting with the consul this afternoon?”
“Yes, but I have an urgent message and I must give it to him before the meeting.”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s ten forty-five. This is the first time I have ever seen any one of you alone here.”
“Mmmm … yeah.”
I anxiously looked down at the warm, sweet drink in my hands. How long had it been since I’d had a real cup of coffee? Precious, real creamed coffee? I concentrated on what I would say to the consul. After what seemed like hours, the secretary returned.
“Miss, I’ve found him.” The secretary smiled. She looked calm and sure of herself. Her green eyes reminded me of my sister, Annalisa, and made me homesick.
“I told him it was urgent and he’s rushing over.”
I looked at the clock—11:15 A.M. I was supposed to call Beth soon. I leaned down to rub the dust from my shoes. I wondered if anyone would believe me. Perhaps he’d think I was lying. He would look at my short-cropped, amateurish haircut, dusty legs, and clingy clothes and assume I was only a pauper, not someone he could trust. I looked around to make sure no one was coming, then tried to rub the dirt from my legs.
“There’s a rest room just around the corner.” The receptionist sorrowfully smiled at me. Embarrassed, I set my coffee on my chair so no one would accidentally take it. This way the receptionist would know I was coming back.
The toilet stall had luxuriously soft tissue paper which I pulled off in a long roll. I dampened it and wiped my arms and face. The mirror told me that I did look like a beggar. I shouldn’t have been so careless running down the dirt road. Even my shirt looked dull compared to the secretary’s crisp, bright white blouse. I washed my face and wet my hair. Grabbing a rough paper towel from a silver dispenser, I rubbed my bangs dry. I returned to my chair and found that Dan had left a fresh cup of coffee with cream.
I sat down and began to fiddle with my fingernails. I looked at the clock, eleven-thirty. Finally, a tall, middle-aged man rushed through the front doors. I recognized the consul.
“Deborah? Yes, I remember you well from the meeting with the youngsters.” He paused to catch his breath. “You’re alone?”
“Umm … Can we go in your office? I’ve something confidential to say.” I shivered. Would I find the words? Would I sound convincing?
“Absolutely.” He waved me ahead of him and into a high-backed leather chair.
“You’re probably not going to believe me or understand what I am about to say.” I took a breath and, with all my courage, continued. “I want to go home.”
“Well, isn’t this interesting? What made you decide this?”
My relief was so intense, my lip began to twitch uncontrollably.
“We have suicide drills regularly … all night and into the next day, people are beaten, we have little food … I believe many want to go home.” I pressed my finger on my lip so I could continue. “Jim has threatened on many occasions that we will have to die because Grace Stoen is trying to get her son back. And also, you and the other officials should be more careful when you visit out there. Jim uses all the information you give him against the residents. When you’re there, everything is staged….” I stopped to take a breath. “I need a passport. Mine’s in Jonestown.”
The consul picked up the phone. “The ambassador needs to know this,” he said and proceeded to dial his number. He repeated my litany of concerns to the ambassador, then hung up.
“Not to worry. I have some emergency passports in the safe upstairs. Can you just wait a second? I also want to talk to the ambassador in person.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have much time. I need to go to Pan Am and get the prepaid ticket my sister has on hold for me. And then, Beth, my friend from Jonestown, and I will be here later. We’re supposed to get you to repeat your statement about shooting the planes down. We will be taping you.”
“What? You’re recording the meeting?”
“Yes, but you aren’t supposed to know. So be careful!”
“Hmm … Okay, first things first.” He jumped up and opened the credenza behind his desk and began rustling through papers. “I need a photo for your passport.” He aimed an ancient-looking Polaroid at me.
“Okay, let’s begin. Tell me, for the record, your reasons for wanting to leave Guyana and the Peoples Temple. I’ll get Dan in here to witness it.”
Sworn to this 12th day of May 1978
I, Deborah Layton Blakey, hereby swear that the following statement is true and correct to the best of my ability.
I have decided to leave the Peoples Temple Organization because I am afraid that Jim Jones will carry out his threats to force all members of the Organization in Guyana to commit suicide if a decision is made in Guyana by the Court here to have John Stoen returned to his mother. I know that plans have been made to carry out this mass suicide by poison that is presently at Jonestown. I also know that plans are made to kill the members who are unwilling to voluntarily commit suicide. I believe that this plan will be carried out. I also believe that the Organization will physically try to prevent any attempt to remove John Stoen from the custody of the Organization. In part for the above I have decided to leave the Peoples Temple. Signed: Deborah Layton Blakey
American Vice Consul, Daniel Weber
I hastily signed my name and handed the pen to Dan, wondering if he would protect me and keep my secret.
“Excellent. Let me show this to the ambassador and you’ll be on your way.” He disappeared behind the door and Daniel came back in.
“Thought you could use a drink.” He smiled warmly, offering me an orange juice.
“What is the consul doing with the ambassador?” I asked.
“Your statement is the first corroboration we’ve had regarding the serious situation in Jonestown.”
“How long will he be? I need to run to Pan Am and pick up the ticket my sister has waiting for me there.”
“Just finish filling out your passport information so it can be typed onto your passport.”
“But, Dan, I also have
to have tax clearance to get out of the country. I mentioned it to the consul as well. I’ve been here over five months and the limit is three.”
The consul returned, his face flushed. I again explained that I couldn’t leave the country without tax clearance. “I arranged it for Carolyn Layton a few weeks ago. They will not let me out of the country without it.”
“Now there. There’s no need for you to worry about that. This is an emergency passport. You needn’t bother with it.”
“Please, get it for me? I have to have this stamped.”
The consul, vice consul, and I made our final plans. I explained that it was too dangerous for us to make contact after this meeting. I would be at the Pegasus Hotel at 8:30 P.M. and Dan would drive me to the airport. I explained that I would not be able to call or to be called, nor would I know exactly how, or when, I would be able to get away. But whatever happened, no matter how late, he was not to leave the Pegasus without me. The trip to the airport would take almost two hours. The consul handed me the passport.
“No! I cannot have that on me. It’s too dangerous.” I was shocked. Didn’t he get it? “They might find it. Dan? Will you keep it till tonight? In fact, I’ll drop my ticket on your desk. You’ll have both when I meet you tonight.”
I called Beth from the consul’s phone.
“The meeting’s at two.”
“Are you coming home first?”
“Well … no, I’ll wait here for you.”
“You okay? I’ll hurry and wait with you.”
I looked at Dan in a panic. “She’s on her way!” I rushed out of the building to Pan Am’s office a couple of blocks away. I stopped outside the thick glass doors, wiped the sweat from my neck, and bent down, pretending to fix my shoe. Looking around, I concluded that no one had followed me.
I pushed the doors open and felt suddenly refreshed by the cold air on my drenched skin. A young man sauntered over to the desk.
“Can I help you?”
“My sister has a prepaid ticket waiting for me here. It’s for tonight at eleven fifty-five P.M.” The young man asked my name, fiddled with his terminal, and walked over to another agent. They talked for a while, then went to another terminal and again began fiddling with a keyboard. Then they both approached me.
“Sorry, miss. There is no such thing here.”
“Of course there is,” I assured them. “My sister made all the arrangements weeks ago. The ticket is here! It’s waiting for me! It’s all set up!” My eyes blurred. “You have to find it! I gotta be on that flight!” I wiped at my eyes to stop the tears.
“I’m not sure how we can …”
“Please … Call my sister.” I was pleading. “Here’s the number. Help me, please! I can’t wait.” The agents looked bewildered. I had to get out of there. Beth could walk by at any moment. I turned to leave.
“But how will we get in touch with you?”
I called back through the closing door. “Call the American ambassador!” Jesus … Now what?
I began to sweat through my shirt. I rushed back to the embassy and headed straight for the bathroom to rinse off.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, Dan walked by me and smiled.
“Did you get it?”
I was about to tell him when I glimpsed Beth’s sandals behind Dan’s pant leg.
“We’ll see you later,” I said nonchalantly to Dan, as he proceeded toward his office.
“Hello, Debbie.” Beth was sweating, and out of breath.
“Beth … Wow, you got here fast!”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want you left here alone. Jim was a little miffed with me for endangering your safety by letting you come alone to set everything up.” Did he already know? Had someone told him?
“Well, nothing to worry about. No one’s accosted me.”
“You look really stressed.”
“Really? No, just hot.”
“It’s cold in here. Do you have it in your satchel?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me test it once more in the bathroom, make sure the volume is high enough.” I handed her the bag, relieved that I refused the passport. With Beth in the bathroom, I quickly ran to Dan’s office to tell him about my ticket problem. The office was empty.
“Debbie?” Beth was standing in front of me. “What’re you doing?”
“Looking to see where the consul is. He should be here by now.”
“He’s got five minutes.” She looked flustered, concerned about my behavior.
Just as we entered the consul’s office, I glimpsed Dan’s return. I suddenly grew desperately cold. The consul was behaving differently, unfriendly, strange, and reserved. He acted as if he knew something. Was he going to give it away? He didn’t look in my direction, only at Beth. There was a long moment of silence and I nervously began to talk. He interrupted me.
“I know why you’re here, and I’m not going to repeat what you want to hear,” the consul said. Dear God, I had entrusted myself to an idiot!!! “What I said was said only in jest.” He was staring directly at the satchel on Beth’s lap. His actions broadcast the possibility of my having snitched. The meeting was coming to a frightfully abrupt ending and I still hadn’t talked to Dan. I excused myself. “May I use the rest room?” The ploy was extremely stupid and dangerous, but I had no other choice. Beth scowled at me in disbelief as I closed the door behind me.
“Daaan?” I whispered into his office.
“Debbie!!” He jumped.
“Something went wrong at Pan Am. My ticket isn’t there. Please … help me!” I turned and rushed back to the consul’s office. Beth was standing and ready to leave. We offered our hands to shake and left the building.
Outside, Beth stopped and looked directly into my eyes. “Do you believe that? He knew why we were coming. He’s broken our code and listened to our transmissions. He’s CIA. They knew. Say, what was that all about anyway? Asking to use the bathroom. Your period start?”
“Uh-huh.”
“We gotta tell Jim our codes have been compromised.”
Having finished her transmission with Jonestown, Beth ran up the stairs and plunked herself down on the couch next to me.
“You lazy thing. How come you didn’t get on the radio with me just now?” She hugged me. “You were so silly today! Tonight, are you working on the report for Dad?”
“Yeah, I guess. Why?”
“Let’s work on it together. Maybe do it outside where Karen can’t bug us. I got us a Coca-Cola …”
Suddenly, a male voice bellowed out from the floor below. Beth and I walked to the stairs and down a couple of steps. Jack was standing outside the radio room’s door.
“What’s going on, Debs?” Jack yelled. “The embassy just called and left a message for you.”
Beth looked at me quizzically. Oh my God. Now he had really blown it.
“What?”
“Yeah. He said that you’d left some documents there and you should pick them up from Dan Weber tomorrow.” Tomorrow?
Beth turned her head toward me. “Why would he call here?”
“Something’s wrong with him.” I looked at her. “We didn’t leave anything there.”
“Deb, the guy’s up to something,” Beth announced.
She continued down the stairs while I desperately tried to think clearly. I will bolt from here when Jack tries to grab me, I thought to myself. I’ll run over there, jump the fence, and …
Now several more people were standing at the radio room listening and wondering what the covert message could have meant.
“The guy’s an idiot.” I rolled my eyes, continuing to calculate the distance from here to the road.
“No, Debbie. He specifically said you left something in his office,” Jack remained firm. He had come in from Jonestown yesterday with Beth. One of Jim’s oldest cronies, he’d traveled out West with his family in the sixties. Big, powerful, and deadly serious, he continued to grill me.
“Tell us, Debbie. What was it you left w
ith him?”
With my heart racing, I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.
“Was it … your panties?”
Everyone started to laugh. I felt the heat in my face as though I’d turned crimson.
“Sure, Jack. Just like I was assigned to do.” I smirked and turned to go back upstairs.
“Maybe he’ll wash ’em for you.”
Relieved, everyone moved back away from the radio room and into the crevices they’d crawled out from. My hands were shaking so severely I folded my arms. I was afraid my body’s involuntary reactions would be the death of me.
“What do you think he’s trying to get at?” Beth wondered aloud.
“Damned if I know … or even care.” I headed down the hallway and closed the bedroom door behind me. I was so afraid and angry. Why was he risking everything? What was he trying to get at? What was the message he’d risked my safety for? The plan must have been changed to tomorrow. I had to get to a phone. I jumped at a knock on the door. I was edgy and wanted to cry. I had to get my composure.
“Come on,” Bobby called. “We’re supposed to be gone now. Dad asked us to go back out and procure another hundred dollars this evening. Let’s go.”
“Me? Bobby, I just got back from the embassy and I have to write up my impressions for Jim.”
“Karen scheduled you. It’s on the calendar. And she just snagged Beth for some project, too.”
I put on Sharon’s spaghetti-strap summer dress and sandals, and headed back out with Bobby into the hot and dirty streets of the capital. Two hours later, Bobby and I were still asking Guyanese citizens for their hard-earned money for our agricultural project and I was becoming increasingly anxious. I had to get to a phone. What was the consul trying to tell me?
Bobby stopped a well-dressed black gentleman walking out from a run-down neighborhood. “Please, will you contribute to the Jonestown Agricultural Project by donating a dollar? It is well spent on medicines to better the lives of the Amerindians in the jungle.”
The man looked vaguely familiar, like the old man at the hotel phone banks who warned me of a “storm coming.” As we waited, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet, leafed through several bills, and handed one to me.
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