In Darkness
Page 26
And then . . .
And then . . .
And then I’m moving somehow, limping, following that voice. She must have heard when the blanc said that they dug out a boy; she must have been one of the people waiting, one of the people holding a vigil. I’m stumbling through the broken glass to the ragged hole and finally I’m in the open air and it fills my lungs and there’s a blue sky above and we’re in the light now, burning our eyes, tears streaming down our face, and I look over the road and . . .
. . .
. . . My breath stops in my chest, cos there’s my manman, screaming and screaming. But they’re not bad screams; they’re screams of joy. Then she’s running toward me and she grabs me, she swings me up, and she’s hugging me and hugging me.
And it’s OK, it’s good, it’s OK to touch me, cos I’m not Marguerite, I’m not Tintin; I have skin covering my body. I don’t have holes in me anymore. I’m whole and I have a soul entire inside me. I’ve lived and died so many times for this country, and there’s nothing that can get in and hurt me.
And I say:
— Manman. Manman, I love you. I kept shooting and I made a goal, but I’m not gonna shoot no more.
And she’s saying words all the time, too. Words like, love, my boy, love, words of fierceness, words of joy, love, love, love.
I think, yes, I was a zombi all along. I should not have been afraid to be a zombi, though, cos . . .
Yes, I died, over and over.
But now I’ve been reborn.
Yes . . .
Yes . . .
Yes . . .
I was in darkness, but now I am in light.
Author’s Note
This is a work of fiction. While I researched this book, I am a novelist, not an expert on Haiti, and any errors are mine alone. I occasionally simplified and adjusted the facts to fit into the shape of the story. I suspect, however, that anyone reading In Darkness will be curious as to how much in it is true and how much is made up. The simple answer is that I believe that the book is true in essence. If you were hoping that some of the more unpleasant things you have just read were made up, then I apologize.
I did not invent the character of Toussaint l’Ouverture, and I have been faithful to his story, at least in spirit and in essentials. It was necessary to smooth out the history to some extent. For example, in this book I have ignored the issue of the Spanish side of the island (the modern-day Dominican Republic), with which Toussaint had a complicated relationship. However, the important things are true. Toussaint really did lead a slave rebellion at the age of fifty-four, defeating a major colonial power and freeing his people, even if only temporarily. He was a simple, uneducated man who achieved one of the greatest and least acknowledged military victories of all time. His character was, as far as we know, calm, wise, inspirational. He was betrayed in the way presented in this story, and he really did die in a French dungeon.
The ceremony at Bois Caiman did happen, though not much is known about it, and I have embellished the details for my own purposes. In reality, it was most likely an invocation of Erzili Danto, one of the most important of the lwa, to support the rebellion.
Shorty never lived, nor did his family. But Route 9 and Boston – and the war between them – are real, as is nearly every detail of life in Site Solèy. It is one of the poorest, most violent slums in existence, even more so now in the wake of the 2010 earthquake. It has frequently been named as the most dangerous place on earth. People really did, and do, eat pies made of mud, such is their desperation. Babies really were, and are, left to die on piles of trash. For years, the slum was virtually cut off by roadblocks and, especially during the bloody period in the first decade of the new century, the police and attachés were accused many times of shooting unarmed civilians during demonstrations and home invasions. Many residents simply disappeared, never to be seen again.
Dread Wilmè was a real person. He lived and died in much the way I have described: hailed as a hero by his supporters, who claimed that he provided security, education, and rudimentary health care in a place where the government provided none; vilified by the government as a gangster and a murderer. The truth, as always, is probably somewhere in between. Fierce controversy surrounds his killing to this day, and in particular surrounds the question of how many civilians were killed during the operation. His funeral was a lavish affair, attended by thousands and marked by speeches. As far as I know, it unfolded more or less as described, with Dread being pushed out to sea on a burning boat.
Finally, no work of fiction is an island, even a book that is set on one. I would like to thank Caradoc King, Louise Lamont, Elinor Cooper, David Fickling, Sarah Odedina, and Madeleine Stevens for all their help in constructing this story.
And I would like to thank you, too, for reading it.
Nick Lake
Oxford, 2011
A Note on the Author
NICK LAKE was born in Britain but grew up in Luxembourg, where his father worked for the European Parliament. Nick works in publishing by day and writes in every spare moment he can find. In 2012, his powerful and moving novel In Darkness, about the Haitian earthquake, was published for adults and older teenagers, receiving huge acclaim. Hostage Three is his very different but equally powerful new novel for teenagers.
Nick lives near Oxford with his wife and family. His long commute to work gives his imagination time to explore places he's never visited.
For more information about Nick Lake and his astonishing novel, including an author interview and a reading guide, visit www.in-darkness.org
Bloomsbury Publishing, London, New Delhi, New York and Sydney
This electronic edition published in January 2012 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
First published in Great Britain in January 2012 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP
Text copyright © Nick Lake 2012
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Pages 15–18 include dialogue that is based on original
speeches by Jean-Bertrand Aristide
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ISBN 9781408824191
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