My My Little Prince

by Rod Lacy Rod Lacy

  “Speaking of loaded; what are you doing about money?” Pierre asked.

  “What about money?”

  “You know; where are you keeping it?” He stood with his hand on the raised hatchback door.

  “Well, uh; in my wallet?” Campbell had a puzzled look on an earnest face. Pierre has his attention now.

  “No, that won’t work. We need to hide it. I put mine in a thick plastic bag and put it under the battery. You need to do the same. The cops, the military or the ladrones … and they are all ladrones, will take it as soon as we are stopped for any reason.”

  “OK, sounds good; show me what to do when we stop.”

  “Let’s do it now. It will only take a second. You’ll be glad you did; I can guarantee that.” He slammed the hatchback and headed for the front of the car.

  A few minutes later they pulled out of the underground garage. “Again, as for the roads; as soon as we cross the border the roads get so bad that it’s hard to tell what’s a road and what’s a washout. They all turn to dirt and gravel. That’s if we’re lucky and they are not all rivulets of slippery water and mud! Caliche turns slipperier than snot, if you’ll pardon the expression, when it gets wet. And all the roads are made of Caliche out there. Then at that point I do not know what to expect, but it will not be good. I drove it a few years back and I swore I would never drive it again, only fly.

  “That is where we will really begin to run into trouble. If the ladrones don´t get us the terrain will.”

  “You really make it sound fun.” A worried Campbell said, looking at Pierre worriedly. He bucked up at seeing Pierre’s resoluteness. “Well, we’re on our way now; we can do this! We can find your family and bring them the supplies and money they need to get out and get to safety. Come on, it can’t be that bad.” They pulled out of the parking garage and Campbell looked over his shoulder and wedged his way into the right lane. “Ok, Dr. Pierre, which way do we go?”

  “Let’s see, after we get through the Colonial area here in Santo Domingo we will turn right on the Malecón. We will take that all the way to San Cristobal then to Azua and on to Barahona, and finally to Jamini, the border town.

  “It is about six hours from here to the border and then from there it is about another six hours if we do not run into any problems. “Are you sure you want to do this? Now is the time to say so!” Dr. Pierre asked hesitantly.

  “Of course,” Campbell said as he waved his hand in a forward-down-the-road gesture. “I told you I would go with you and I will. I hope we have enough supplies, ... and we have your gun. Is it somewhere close?”

  “Yes, it’s under my seat here. Listen; if you are hungry we can get some food on the way near San Cristóbal. Let’s save our supplies until we need them. It shouldn’t be too bad until we cross the border and then there’s just no way to know what to expect. I think Azua would be better for food and maybe some additional supplies if we can fit them in the car. I left more room for you than you needed so we have a little space on the back floor.” Pierre pointed another lane change coming up. “Azua is cleaner and we go through there anyway. I really want to make the border before night though so we had better not dally.”

  “Look at the traffic.” Campbell said as he laid on his horn, “at this rate we will be lucky to make Barahona by tomorrow. At least traffic is better going out of town. Look at that jam of cars heading in. I think half of Haiti must be headed this way!”

  Nine hours later. - Three pm.......

  “Turn right at the next major road. “Campbell directed. He looked no fresher after hardly sleeping at all while Campbell drove. His clothes were rumpled and he needed a shave.

  Pierre grunted, “Ha, where do you think we are, NYC?”

  “Well turn right at the next paved road then,” Campbell said testily. It has been a long eight hours.” They drove in silence for the next ten minutes or so.

  “Here, this is it, turn here.”

  “OK.”

  “Yup, this is it.” Pierre turned, saw the road and said, “OK, slow down now. This is where the adventure begins. Just look at the condition of this road. We’re lucky to be able to go twenty-five KM per hour and it will be getting dark early in these hills. Look, deep pot holes everywhere. Be careful!”

  They were able to move steadily along for an hour or so when they rounded a tight curve. “Look out!” Pierre yelled, but it was too late. The front tire dropped into a hole the size of a bath tub and the whole frame of the car banged loudly. They screeched to a halt as the wheel bounced out the other side and both men bumped their heads on the low ceiling.

  The engine had stalled so Campbell threw the car into park and they stumbled out in the slick mud to survey the damages. “Damn, that’s just great, just an hour into this shit and we have a flat.” Pierre swore. They both headed to the back of the car and just then they heard a hissing sound. Sure enough the other front tire was flat too.

  “Well double fuck!” Campbell thought to himself. “Shit we have two flats. Now what?”

  Pierre slumped against the rear quarter-panel and shook his head. He looked around in the already fading light and straightened up. “Look up there. There is a truck with the same problem and the tire is off and he’s just standing there.” Pierre yelled to a man and two little boys standing near the truck, “Hey amigo, ayu'dame, what can we do? We have two flats and it looks like at least one of the rims is bent.”

  The driver looked at Pierre and the listing Skoda and shrugged. “Wait a few minutes and the motorcyclist that is taking my tire to the station will be back and get yours too.”

  “Let’s jack up the car and go ahead and get the tires off,” Campbell advised Pierre when suddenly they heard a loud bang that made them cringe and duck. They turned back to see another small truck swerving to the side. It was loaded about eight feet high with plantains. The truck stopped and the driver and a passenger got out and checked their tires. They smiled at each other and got back into the truck and continue down the road.

  Campbell looked at Pierre and said, “Damn; if this is the beginning I hate to see the rest.”

  “It will get worse, I guarantee that! “Just wait. We are still in the Dominican Republic. Remember this is the easy part of the trip and we have not even reached the mountains.”

  Campbell pointed up the road, “Look here comes the cycle. Let’s push this thing over to the side a little before some jerk rounds that curve and rear-ends us.” The cycle stopped and the driver got off, balancing the big tire from the other vehicle on the back of his seat. He quickly began to put on the tire. Pierre walked over and asked him if he could take his two tires to the nearest town and get them fixed too.

  The wiry guy immediately nodded and said that he could but that it will take a couple hours.

  “Mierda! Ok, I guess,” Pierre said and turned back to Campbell with his hands in a what-are-ya-gonna-do shrug. In just a short time though, the very capable guy had the Skoda jacked up and resting on some large rocks he had managed to drag up. Both wheels were off the car and he was driving off towards the town; one tire balanced between his legs on the gas tank in front. The other he was holding with one hand behind him.

  “Damn, did you see that,” Campbell said slapping Pierre on the back. “Man, that guy can drive better one handed than I can with two!”

  They watched him disappear around the next curve. “I sure hope he is honest,” Campbell said to Pierre. His worried look made his tired face seem drawn; longer even.

  “He will be, he wants the pesos more than the tires. I’m sure he does this all day. Another ‘Dominican entrepreneur’ … he could easily have set up on the other side of this curve and warned people about this rut, but he can’t make any money that way. I’ll bet you anything he’s been waiting here all day for this and I’ll bet business has been good!”

  “It is a pretty good business if you ask me,” Campbell nodded in amazement as he tried to wipe orange looking mud off his pants leg.

  Pierre looked
at Campbell and said, “Ha! I bet he put that big pot hole there too!”

  “Ha! I bet you you’re right, I’m sure he did.” Campbell laughed. They were both getting a little loopy by now. He shook his head as he realized the likelihood of this. “That’s pretty fucking enterprising!”

  “Shit we lost almost three hours.” Campbell mumbled to himself as he watched the cyclist drop the car off the lift and grab the pesos out of Pierre’s hand. It was just past six o’clock by then. They had been going at it for over eleven hours. “Well, let’s hit it, we can’t stay here.”

  An hour or so later, Pierre nodded knowingly. “Hey, we are getting closer to Jamini. Look you can see the mountains in the distance.”

  “Wow, they are bigger than I thought they’d be!” Campbell said as he scrunched down so he could see out the windshield up to the top of the shadowy range still a ways off.

  “Yes, the tallest in the Caribbean.” Pierre said, a note of pride in his voice. “Pico Duarte is the tallest and regularly has snow and ice on it!”

  Thirty minutes later, they were in the mountains attempting the first sizeable curve. There was a major washout on the side of the road.

  “There is no way we can make it past this turn,” Campbell almost yelled. “The road is washed out and the embankment has collapsed.” You could hear the panic in his voice.

  Pierre snapped back, “Campbell I have no choice, do I? If you want you can go back now, I’d understand. One of the trucks will pick you up. You are an American. They’ll take you back to the nearest bus station and you can go back to Santo Domingo; but I have to continue. My family is probably buried under a building somewhere. I am going to do it even if it seems impossible. I’ve got to continue.” Pierre looked at Campbell and bowed his head, “Sorry Doctor, I have to.”

  “No, no, I’m here with you and I will continue, but if we are going to die, let’s not die now, ok?”

  “Ok Campbell, you get out and walk around the corner and see if anyone is coming and if they are, stop them until I pass.”

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  “Yes, I’m ‘fucking’ serious, get out and guide me, but watch out. If a car comes by now we may both go over that edge. Come on, go see, we are losing time.”

  “Ok, easy now.” A few minutes later Campbell signalled Dr. Pierre to continue.

  “Can you see my right side? How much space do I have?” Pierre called out the open window.

  “About six inches and I’m a guy so my six inches may be exaggerated a bit!” The attempt at levity went unappreciated. “...and the drop is straight down.” He had tried to make light of a dangerous situation but his gut was feeling anything but light. “Stay to the left, stay to the left!”

  Pierre yelled to Campbell, “I can feel the side of the car scraping the rocks! I can’t stay anymore to the left!”

  “Let it scrape, let it scrape, turn, hard ... harder!!! You do not have any extra room. Look out, look out! Stop!” Campbell started to scream, “Your tire is right on the edge!” Campbell screamed as loud as he could. He held up both hands to stop Pierre, even pushing against the front of the car. He looked over at the side and saw the beginnings of a small avalanche directly under the front tire. “The dirt is giving way Pierre! Go! Go! Go faster, hit the gas.” He screamed again at the top of his lungs, “Floor it!”

  Dr. Pierre slammed his foot on the gas and turned the wheels into the ochre colored rock wall as far as he could. The car leaped and lurched forward scraping the rocks and tearing off every piece of hardware attached to the side of the car. The mirror and all the trim curled up and grabbed at Pierre’s left elbow just sticking outside the Skoda’s window! Campbell continued to scream, “Go, go, don´t stop! Don’t stop!”

  A few seconds later Pierre slammed the brakes as Campbell motioned to Dr. Pierre that he was past the worst part and was ok. You can relax now!” He bent over grabbing his knees sucking air, his head resting on the big steering wheel. Dr. Pierre looked like he had been shot; his face was flush, his heart was racing and he felt that he had messed his pants. He raised his head and looked back in the rear view mirror at this very narrow escape. He crossed himself and uttered, “Thank God I’m alive,” and placed his forehead back on the steering wheel. Neither man moved for an eternity.

  Finally Campbell straightened up. He took one more deep breath and said, “I really thought you were going then, I really did. Remember I told you that if we are going to die make it after we arrive, ok?

  “Ok, it’s a deal! I will definitely remember that the next time we have a little adventure like that.” Both men were quiet for a time as they allowed the adrenalin spike to ebb.

  A few minutes later another car approached on the inside lane of the road. The road was wider there but Dr. Pierre was now forced to get next to the edge again. This time however it was only at the edge of a large ditch. Campbell told Dr. Pierre to stop and let the other car go by slowly. As recommended, he stopped, and the other car slowly inched by. The cars almost ground onto each other so Dr. Pierre slowly inched forward, trying to make more room. As he did this his right front tire was forced into the ditch and was buried up to the tie rods.

  “Can you believe this,” Campbell asked Dr. Pierre and slammed his hand on the wheel. “We survive being almost over a cliff and then five minutes later we are stuck in a ditch on the edge of the mountain.” He opened his door as another vehicle approached, apparently all trying to get out of Haiti. “Hey Campbell, look, he has a winch on the front. We are in luck in an unlucky way.”

  Pierre jumped in front of the approaching truck waving his hands. “Pare! Pare!” he yelled. “Back up!” We were forced into the ditch and we need you to pull us out. Back up please,” he yelled again.”

  Slowly the other driver backed up and agreed to use the winch to pull Dr. Pierre up a few inches until the tires would grab.

  They hooked up the winch. “Stand back from the jeep, Pierre yelled to Campbell, “let’s see.” Very slowly the other driver pushed the button for the winch. Dr. Pierre’s Skoda inched forward. As planned, the tire caught and Pierre was able to get enough traction to make it back up to what vaguely resembled pavement. The other vehicle then backed up until the road was slightly wider where they could both get by. “I wish the first idiot would have done that!” he muttered to himself.

  “Ok, Dr. Pierre,” Campbell said, “from now on if the road is too narrow let’s not try to get by until we find a wider area, even if we have to go back down a few kilometers. Agreed?”

  “Yessiree buddy! No argument from me!” Dr. Pierre said in a shaky voice. “I´m so glad you are here,” Dr. Pierre told Campbell woozily. At this point he was thankful for everything and anything. “You are a real friend, to risk your life so I can find my family. Thanks Dr. Campbell, I will never be able to repay you. Thanks so much.”

  Campbell pooh-pooh’ed him, “You will be able to repay me someday.” As he turned away he said softly, “I’ve got big plans for you my ‘fren’.”

  The road seemed to improve a bit as they drove on. “What does the sign say?” Pierre asked Campbell. They had been making decent time now and the breeze felt good through the windows.

  “18 KM to Jamini,” Campbell answered.

  “The news last night said that it’s total chaos at the border. Trucks are coming and going, people are walking from Haiti into the Dominican Republic … the Red Cross and every other non-profit group in the world is there trying to either get their trucks and supplies in or their patients out.

  “The only hotel there is always full and even if it had rooms available we would not want to stay there.”

  “Why not?” Campbell asked. He rearranged the broken mirror and scraps of trim at his feet, trying to get comfortable.

  “It’s terrible, trust me,” Pierre smirked. “So, let’s continue driving a bit. It may be a little crazy, but let’s continue to drive even though it is dark. If the ladrones don´t get us, the roads will, so what’s the difference?
We will stop at the first place once we cross the border and get past all the commotion.”

  An uneventful hour later, Campbell looked up and said, “See that?”

  “What are you looking at?” Dr. Pierre yawned.

  “The sign, it says ‘Welcome to Jamini´.”

  “I guess we are here. Stop so I can ask what is happening at the border.”

  “Ok, I´ll pull over here.” They parked the car and prepared to get out.

  They sat there a moment stuffing valuables under the seats when suddenly a man seemed to come out of nowhere. He walked up to the car and tapped forcefully on Pierre’s window. Pierre rolled his window back down a couple inches. The man looked at Pierre and then stooped in and looked across at Campbell, appraising the situation. He held out his hand and asked for a few pesos. Pierre ignored this request and said, “Hola mi amigo, lo que está sucediendo en la frontera?” The dark skinned man had more wrinkles on his

  face than a thirty year old road map. He just smiled and pointed down past the Isla Gas Station. “I thought we were getting pretty close.” Pierre nodded as he handed the man a few pesos.

  “Gracias, que tengas un buen viaje,” the man said but as Pierre put the car back into drive and started to leave the man flagged them to stop again. He walked back to the window. He asked, “¿estás aquí para ayudar en la clínica estadounidense?”