“Take this, children, and go home. It’s a dangerous neighborhood to be begging in,” he cautioned, then crossed the street and disappeared into the marketplace. Bobby grabbed the bill from my hand and unraveled it.
“Holy shit, Debbie, it’s a hundred-dollar bill! We’ve made our goal and it’s only seven o’clock! Let’s go home!”
I snatched the bill back from Bobby and we headed home.
16
No Place to Hide
At 7:20 P.M. I stepped into the shower. The water was cold. I quickly washed my hair and scrubbed the dust and grime from my legs. I changed into a clean pair of shorts and tank top, and put the money we had procured back into my pocket for accounting later that night.
Already at the kitchen table, Beth was eating curried rice and talking to Karen. I walked calmly by them and stepped into the pantry. I reached for the last bottle of Johnnie Walker Red and pulled it down from the shelf.
“Whatcha doin?” Beth sang to me.
“Jim asked me to give a bottle of whiskey to Dr. DeCosta as a thank-you for coming to Jonestown and giving free dental care last month,” I lied.
“Tonight?”
“I should have done it earlier and was too busy. I thought I’d go now and drop it off.”
“You can’t go now. It’s seven forty-five and we’re leaving at eight-thirty to meet the new arrivals at the airport.”
“Tonight? I didn’t realize more folks would be coming tonight.”
“Debbie, what is with you? You set it up. Are you going nuts? Maybe you did leave something with the consul—your sanity.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny, Beth.”
“I don’t remember his asking us to deliver anything.”
“Well, Miss Perfect. It was last week. Before you got here. Anyway, I was too busy.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, Beth, I’ll be two minutes.” She was too close.
“Debbie, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go tonight,” Karen interjected.
“Jim asked me to and Dr. DeCosta is expecting me.”
“Where did you see him?” Beth asked.
“This morning when I was making arrangements,” I lied.
“You can’t go alone. I’ll go with you,” Karen insisted.
“Fine, if you want to.”
“No, Karen. Debbie doesn’t need you. Please stay and help me with this report for Jim. He wants it before midnight,” Beth pleaded. “She was able to handle the embassy all by herself. And Dr. DeCosta is an important person for us.”
Karen finally acquiesced. I had to wait until eight-fifty before I could climb into the van with the airport Welcoming Committee. The vehicle had been cleared of all the crates filled with necessities for Jonestown we’d received the day before: mothballs used for keeping the hundreds of thousands of dollars in currency stored in Jonestown from mildewing, soaps, clothes, boots, batteries, antifungal medications, and agricultural tools. I wondered if the crates contained guns hidden in the false bottoms. Bobby had swept the van clean for the newcomers we were expecting. Finally, five blocks from our home, I was dropped off, alone, at the home of Dr. DeCosta.
I watched the van turn a corner, then knocked.
“Well, hello, Deborah.” Dr. DeCosta smiled down at me. “What is this? Another present?”
“Jim wanted me to thank you and …”
“Another bottle. Gracious me. He is such a kind man, your Pastor. But he encourages me to drink too much.”
“Excuse me, Dr. DeCosta. I hate to be impolite, but could I use your telephone? It’s sort of an emergency.”
“Why, of course. Follow me.” We walked down a hallway, up a set of stairs to a small room filled with books. As the phone at the embassy rang, the doctor settled himself onto the sofa across from me. Why did he have to stay? What would he do when he heard me? He seemed like a kind man. I hoped I could trust him.
“Dr. DeCosta?”
“Yes, child?”
“You are not going to understand what I am about to say or do,” I began, “but I will explain it all to you soon. Please just trust me, listen, and wait.”
His brows furrowed, and then he smiled. “I think I know already.”
The ringing seemed endless. The clock on the desk read 9:20 P.M.
“Oh, hello. Is this the American Embassy? I need to speak with the consul, Dick McCoy, right away.”
“I’m sorry, he is presently attending an affair at the Marine base.”
“This is an emergency. He left me a message earlier today and I must get ahold of him!”
I looked quizzically into the doctor’s eyes. They were serene.
“I’ll try contacting the base,” the receptionist said. “And who shall I tell him is calling at this late hour?”
“It’s Debbie.”
“Very well then, Debbie. Please stay on the line while I attempt to make contact.”
“Please hurry …” My voice broke. I could see the changing expression on my host’s face.
“Deborah? How can I help? Is there something I can do?”
“Yes, but …” I was interrupted by a deep male voice on the telephone.
“Hello … Debbie?” It was the consul.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Where are you?”
“Well, I got your message earlier saying I was supposed to come by the embassy tomorrow and get the documents, so I thought …”
“Good God, child! Dan is waiting at the Pegasus Hotel for you. It’s nine-thirty.”
“But your message … I thought it was postponed until tomorrow.”
“Christ, no! I was just trying to let you know that we had all the documents, that Pan Am had found your ticket. I couldn’t very well tell them outright that everything was ready for tonight. Heavens, I never intended for you to think …” He inhaled loudly. “Jeeezus. Where are you?”
“I’m at a friend’s. I’m five blocks from home.”
“You must get to the hotel immediately. You might not make your flight.”
“But I’m not prepared now. I have to go home and get a change of clothes. I didn’t think I was supposed to leave tonight.”
“Debbie! You don’t have time. I’ll call Dan and tell him you’re on your way. Hurry!” I hung up the phone feeling as though I were spinning out of control.
“Deborah … what can I do?”
“Oh, Dr. DeCosta, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I don’t want you to think badly of me. It’s just that I have decided I want to go back to America. I want to go home.”
He grabbed my shaking body and held me tightly.
“It’s okay. I will take you.”
“First, I need to go by the house. I can’t travel to Venezuela and then New York in shorts. I have to wear long pants.” I felt dazed.
He gently took hold of my hand and led me outside to his car.
“But what if they see you? What if …” He helped me into the car, ran around to the driver’s side, and hopped in.
“Just wait outside for me,” I begged him. “I’m going to run into the house. If anyone comes out and asks what you’re doing, say, I’m getting some clothes to give to your maid, that you’re waiting for me to bring them back out. Okay? Don’t say anything else … please.”
As we pulled up in front of the house, I saw Jack and Karen in the radio room in a heated conversation. I was afraid to get out of the car.
“Don’t leave me …” I reminded him one last time.
I quickly walked up the stairs, into the living room, and headed down the hallway. I opened the door to Sharon’s room and grabbed the pants Margarita had given me, with the big tag “Made in Guyana” on the waist. I took the white shirt I’d washed last night from its hanger, then rushed into the bathroom. Pulling a towel off the rack I rolled up my only two belongings, grabbed a toothbrush, and walked back out. Beth was at the kitchen table with her back to me. No one was in the living room. I rushed toward the outside stairs and bega
n my descent. Why had I come back? Why were the jeans Margarita had given me so important? Halfway down I was in full view of the radio room. I could see Dr. DeCosta’s car, the motor still running, just fifty more feet ahead of me. Jack motioned to Karen and she stepped outside the radio room’s door.
“Wait …” Karen walked toward the stairs and studied the towel under my arm. “Debbie? What’s going on? What are you doing? What’s in the towel?” Karen’s voice was shrill. She came closer. I continued down the stairs as calmly as my convulsing body would allow.
“Nothing really.” I tried to smile. “Dr. DeCosta asked if I had any clothes for his maid.”
“What? He’s here? What maid?”
She stood next to me and touched the towel. “Karen … just wait a second. Let me just give this bundle to him. I’ll be right back to answer your questions. He actually just asked me …” I trailed off in mid-sentence and proceeded to the car. From the corner of my eye, I could see Karen watching me. I leaned into his window, as if conversing, then quickly opened the back door. Pretending to throw the bundle in, I abruptly jumped into the car. “Quick! Hurry! Get me out of here!!!” I pleaded.
As the dust flew out from the back tires, I hunched down in the backseat thanking God that the van wasn’t there to follow us.
“To the embassy?”
“No! Pegasus.” I looked out the back window. No one was following us. I climbed into the front seat with my accomplice.
“I’m leaving the country tonight. I’m going home to the States. It’s not that anything is wrong here or in Jonestown, I just want to go home. My father isn’t well.”
“Mmmhmm,” the doctor hummed.
I stared at the headlighted dirt road in front of us. “If anyone from the organization asks where you took me, just say you dropped me off somewhere. Tell them nothing else … just that you dropped me somewhere. Nothing else. Nothing at all.”
“Of course. I will tell them nothing.”
“I’ll give you my dad’s phone number. When you come to the States, get ahold of me. Give me your address, too. I’ll write you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry. I just can’t explain all of it right now.”
“It isn’t necessary, child. I think I understand.”
We arrived at the main doors of the Pegasus Hotel and I jumped out. Dan rushed over as Dr. DeCosta pulled a plastic bag from his trunk and placed my meager belongings into it. Then he took me into his kindhearted arms and hugged me.
“You’re a brave little thing. I will keep your whereabouts our secret.” He kissed the crown of my head. “Now go. I can see someone coming this way.”
Dan nodded at my co-conspirator.
“It’s nine-fifty. We must hurry.” Dr. DeCosta put his finger to his mouth to signal our secret.
Dan and I barely spoke as we raced toward the airport. The moon looked peaceful so far away and safe from the drudgery of this life. I stared out the side window at the shanties dotting the scenery. The sugar refinery looked more antiquated and wretched in the moonlight than it had last time I had driven by it, five and a half long months ago. I thought about poor Dr. DeCosta. They were probably waiting outside his house right now. Waiting to confront him. I felt sick thinking about the lies they would tell him: She stole thousands of dollars, you must tell us where you dropped her off. We brought her here because of her heroin addiction, she lies all the time, you must help us find her … for her mother’s sake. I prayed that he would not be swayed by them and tell them where he had dropped me off. Dan coughed and my attention was brought back to our ride.
“How much longer?”
“Ten minutes. Say, are you hungry? I bet you haven’t had anything to eat.”
“I’m starved, really.” He handed me a bag with an orange and a cookie inside.
I wanted to lean over and hug him.
“Dan, how long have you worked here?”
“Not long. When the consul leaves tomorrow for Washington, D.C., I’ll take his place for a month.”
“He’s going to Washington?”
“Yes, and with the statement you signed, that’s a good thing.”
I unexpectedly felt angry. Why hadn’t they told me? Why would they let me fly alone tonight to Caracas when I could have gone safely with him tomorrow? Wasn’t anyone supposed to protect me?
At eleven-ten we rolled up to the airport’s main doors. Dan flipped on his hazard lights, jumped out, then ran around to open my door. The parking lot looked deserted. I wondered why he didn’t just park in a slot. He appeared apprehensive. He was several steps ahead of me as we entered the airport building. The place looked empty but I heard excited voices talking. I was suddenly stung with terror. The Welcoming Committee was still here, and the newcomers were hauling their duffel bags and crates toward me. They had just gotten off the plane. I jumped behind a pillar, paralyzed with fear. Dan came back for me looking befuddled.
“What in the world are you doing? I walked all the way over there and turned to say something to you and you were gone.”
“I can’t. They’re here. They’ll see me.”
“The Temple? They followed us here?”
“No, they were already here. They’ll see me.”
“Well, I’m with you!” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll protect you. Now, pull yourself together. Your plane is boarding.”
I mustered all my strength, stood up straight, then stepped out from behind the pillar with Dan. My friends stopped and stared at me in disbelief. I raised my finger to my lips and shook my head, trying to convey that I was on a secret mission. I nodded my head at them, acknowledging that now they, too, were part of my charade. I signaled that they had to be careful not to approach me. I continued with Dan toward the Customs agent. My comrades stepped back, in an effort to be unobtrusive. I could see they were whispering, excited that they had happened upon a covert operation. I could imagine the commotion when they got home and told Karen about this adventure. She would immediately get back on the radio to report my defection to Father. “Lucinda was seen at the airport. We think she plans to visit her uncle Rex.” Rex was our code name for the U.S.A. But by then I would be gone, in the air on my way to safety.
“Miss? Excuse me. I need your passport.” The official, with his khaki shirt and pants, his administrative emblems dangling from his pocket, looked annoyed. Perhaps he was mad that I was arriving so late for the flight. Dan handed him my passport and ticket.
“Interesting. This passport has no stamp on it. How long have you been in Guyana?”
I looked at Dan. He nodded his head for me to proceed. I assumed the consul had taken care of it.
“Five and a half months, sir,” I announced honestly.
“What? You’ve been here five months and you’re trying to leave this country without tax clearance?”
“But it’s an emergency. My father is extremely ill and I have to leave tonight!” The Temple crew still watched me from across the room. Dan looked uneasy.
“Excuse me. But I am with the American Embassy and this woman has been given official clearance to leave the country.”
“The embassy? You do not make the law of the Guyanese government! You cannot give clearance. It’s a Guyanese judicial procedure. No one leaves without tax clearance if they have resided in this country for more than three months.”
Dan very cordially asked, “Sir, may I use your phone? Perhaps the ambassador can clear this up for us. This woman must be allowed to leave tonight!”
“My father is dying!” I pleaded.
“Well, he’ll just have to live another day without you,” the Guyanese agent scoffed. After what seemed an eternity, Dan passed him the phone so the ambassador could inform him that I had emergency clearance to leave the country. While the agent nodded, my flight started down the runway. I heard the plane overhead as it flew into the star-studded night, without me.
People were talking around me but I no longer took in what they said. The Customs
agent raised his shoulders and pointed to the runway.
“Guess we should have listened to you. Now what?” Dan said sheepishly.
“I can’t go back to the house. It’d be too dangerous.”
“Let’s see, by the time we get back into town it will be two A.M. The only place I can think to take you is the Tower Hotel. We’ll figure out the rest when the embassy opens tomorrow at eight.”
During the commotion, I had seen my Temple comrades gather the luggage of the new arrivals and leave. They had even waved good-bye to me. I felt afraid, alone, and dreadful.
As we drove away from the airport, I held back the tears. I wanted someone to hold me, to tell me that everything would be okay. I noticed the stars sparkling silently above. Everything appeared easy and effortless, but it was all wrong. Dan was driving back to the capital as if nothing had changed. For him, tomorrow would be just another day. He’d wake up and change his outfit, then leisurely walk the few blocks to the embassy.
As for me, I was close to annihilation. My mother, my brother, the friends whom I had betrayed, were already being told horrible stories about me and why I had defected. Anyone who left was evil, depraved, and antisocial. Beth was probably listening to Father’s lies about me right then: that I had tried to molest her son, that I had had an affair with her husband, that I wrote reports suggesting she was an unfit mother. Karen was probably being told that I had been working for the CIA for the last six weeks, and Father was saying how sorry he was that when he’d read my vicious reports about her he’d believed them. Every person who once cared for me was probably being told hideous lies about me so that they would have no qualms about finding and hurting me.
Maria was probably searching through the copious Temple files for the blank sheets of paper I signed while Father was conjuring up ghastly misdeeds to be written on them as my confessions. I could almost see Jack, seated next to Karen in the radio room, undoubtedly being instructed on how to abduct, silence, and drug me into oblivion. I even imagined the spittle in the creases of Sharon’s mouth as she spoke over the radio to Karen, giving her the phone number of the doctor who had drugged Margarita. I knew how it worked, I knew the techniques well.
Seductive Poison Page 31