She turned at the gate to find Serena behind her and pulled her cousin into one last hug. “Thank you for warning me. And for the food. You risked yourself for me. If your mother finds out...”
“You are like my sister, Giselle,” Serena whispered. “I had to warn you. And don’t worry about me. Mama doesn’t treat me as she treats you.”
“I am going to miss you.” Giselle cried softly as she pulled away from her cousin.
“I’ll miss you too,” Serena said. Giselle could tell she was trying to stay strong, trying not to cry. To make it easier for me to go, she realized, and fresh gratitude for her cousin welled up in her heart.
“Good-bye. My sister,” Giselle murmured and opened the gate. She heard Serena’s muffled sob behind her, but didn’t look back.
Her bare feet whispered over the ground as she ran down the dark alley. At the end of the narrow street she stopped and leaned against a cement wall. “Oh, Robert,” she gasped. For a single moment she considered going back.
Maybe Aunty will listen if I beg her. Maybe she’ll relent if I promise to work harder or for longer hours. Or I can volunteer to go with the restavec agent as long as Aunty lets Robert stay.
Giselle shuddered. In her heart, she knew it was no use. Her aunt wouldn’t listen to her. If she turned back, they would both be sent away.
“I’m sorry, Robert. Please, please, please forgive me.” She choked back another sob, and then turned and melted into the night, the sound of her step smothered by frenzied drumbeats.
“Where is that girl? She’s never been so late before,” said the woman. She raised her sturdy body from the chair and walked to the front door.
“Aunty?” The boy’s thin voice came from the corner. “I’m hungry.”
The woman didn’t look at him. She opened the door and leaned out into the night. Light spilled from the house and caught a movement in the yard. “Giselle! Get in here this instant. What are you doing, sneaking around the yard like that?”
The dark form shrunk back and the woman heard a gasp Serena’s gasp. “Serena?” she demanded. “Is that you?”
“Yes, Mama,” Serena said as she stepped from the shadows, her shoulders hunched and eyes lowered.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Nothing.”
“Look at me!”
Serena trembled as she looked up into her mother’s eyes. She could only hold the iron gaze for a moment before looking away.
“You warned her!” the woman roared. She grabbed Serena by the arm and jerked her inside the house.
There was the scrape of a chair as the man jumped to his feet. “She better be coming home tonight, Madame, or our deal is over.”
“She can’t have gone far,” the woman said, turning on him like a lioness. “Where is she supposed to go? Into the mountains? She’d know she’d never survive there. No, you’ll find her on the streets, Monsieur, or visiting Madame Celeste’s pony, three streets over.” She pointed in the direction of Madame Celeste’s house. “She has nowhere else to go.”
The two glared at each other for a long moment, then the man growled and strode to the corner. He grabbed the boy by the arm and hoisted him to his feet. “If I don’t find her, I’ll be back. You can count on it.”
The woman snorted with laughter as she stepped out of his way. “What kind of man are you if you can’t catch a little girl? Go. Get out of my house!”
Any response the man might have made was drowned out by Robert’s sudden screams. “Aunty! Aunty! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Aunty, please!” he shrieked as the man dragged him out the door.
“Mama!” yelled Serena, her voice full of condemnation. “How can you do this?”
The woman didn’t even hear her. With an expression of triumph on her face, she marched to the door and slammed it behind the man and boy, shutting Robert and Giselle out of her life forever.
Giselle ran headlong through the night. She didn’t know where she was going. The only thing she knew was that she needed to put as much distance between herself and her aunt’s house as possible.
She ran until her breath was coming in gasps and her legs felt rubbery and weak. Finally, she dropped to her knees beneath a tall palm tree at the edge of town. As she fought to catch her breath, she looked up at the mountains. She could barely make out their silhouettes in front of her, but the stars beaconed above them like little flares of hope. Could she go there to live? Could she survive there?
No, that’s not the important question, she realized. Can I avoid the agent if I don’t go into the mountains? That’s what I really need to know, because if I can’t, then I have no choice. I’ll have to go, and worry about how to live once I’m there.
The problem was she didn’t know anything about surviving in the wild Haitian mountains. She didn’t know which plants were edible, which thorns were poisonous, which streams and pools contained water good enough to drink. The only thing she did know was that the thunder of voodoo drums rolled down from the foothills almost every night, and that poisonous snakes occasionally slithered from the unchecked undergrowth to be killed by the townspeople. She shuddered. Then there were the stories of tarantulas and toxic tree toads.
But still, none of what she’d heard was as terrible as the thought of leaving Robert behind. Tears spilled down her face. The idea of leaving him was like a death knell. Robert, her sad, skinny little brother, who she always thought would be beside her, whom she’d promised her mom and dad she’d always care for, was lost to her now. She thought of how he would snuggle up next to her every night and listen as she whispered stories of better times in his ears, of how he’d cuddle closer when she’d promise him she’d never leave him, never abandon him.
Only now she had.
She remembered saying good-bye to him that morning. He’d hugged her hard, just as he’d done every morning since their uncle left, and begged her not to go. As usual, Giselle had to pry his desperate arms from around her neck and promise him she’d see him that evening. Yet this morning he hadn’t been comforted. She had to promise him twice more before his little arms finally released her, and even then she could tell he didn’t want to let her go. Had he somehow known this morning would be their last morning together? Had he sensed something was about to happen? Or maybe he’d heard their aunt say something that he was too young to understand, but that still made him afraid?
Giselle’s sobs abruptly ceased and she ground her teeth together. It wasn’t fair! There had to be some way to help her little brother. She dashed away her tears, then held her hands in front of her eyes. She was strong for a twelve-year-old, she knew. Was she really helpless? Could desperation give her additional strength, and love for her brother lend her courage? Do I have more power to help Robert than I think I do?
“Of course not,” she whispered. “I’m just a kid. What can I do?”
But the thoughts continued. They expect me to run and hide, probably nearby. Aunty might even expect me to come home, begging and crying, after the agent leaves. The only thing they won’t expect me to do is to go back for Robert, to try to save him myself.
Giselle’s heart raced as she climbed to her feet and looked back in the direction of her aunt’s house. Yes, she was sure she was right. She had more power than they knew – she had the advantage of doing the unexpected. They thought she would act defensively and try to save herself, and they would react accordingly. They wouldn’t expect her to go on the offensive, to go back to save her brother.
I promised Robert I’d never leave him. I told him I’d see him tonight – and I will, she vowed. Everyone Robert’s ever loved has been stolen from him. Everyone but me. I won’t leave him. Either we run away together, or not at all.
She squared her shoulders and started back toward her aunt’s house. If the restavec agent caught her, then so be it but she would not break her promise to her brother.
“Claude!” the man yelled when he drew near the shed, the boy’s arm still clutched in his unrelentin
g grip.
A large shadow moved away from the door. There was the sound of a match being struck, and a tiny flame flared in the night. It brightened the ragged, pink scar jagging down Claude’s cheek. The guard lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply, then held the match flame out toward the man and child to see them better. “Yeah, Boss?”
The man pushed the boy forward. “Put him with the others. I’ve got a runaway.” The child fell against the wall of the shed, crumpled to the ground, and covered his head with his hands.
Claude appraised the child. “He’s a scrawny one,” he said, then flipped his wrist. The match went out.
“His sister’s the one who’s worth something. This one was thrown in for nothing.”
“She worth hauling that skinny kid all the way to the city?” asked Claude. He raised his cigarette to his mouth again. The tip glowed red as he inhaled.
The man shrugged. “We’ll see,” he said. “Give me your machete, eh?” When Claude put the cold hilt in his hand, the man swung the giant knife, testing its weight.
“You know where to find her?”
“Yeah,” answered the man as he moved off. Almost instantly, he was swallowed by the night. “I’ll be back soon.” The words floated back, disembodied and eerie.
Claude approached the child. “Come on, little man,” he said, his voice gentle. “Big Claude’s not going to hurt you. Just so long as you do what I say.”
At the guard’s feet, the boy began to weep quietly.
Giselle calculated her options as she crept back toward her aunt’s house. If she was going to succeed in this wild venture, she needed a plan and it had to be a good one. One of the first things she should do, she decided, was find a disguise. The agent would be looking for a tall girl with two pigtails, wearing a dirty, faded-to-almost-white, cotton dress. The way it was now, the lightness of her dress would be like a beacon in the night, drawing him to her. No other unescorted women or girls would be out after dark, and if he saw a lone figure in a pale dress, he’d know it was Giselle.
She needed to find some boy’s clothes. The agent wouldn’t be suspicious of a boy walking the dark streets. He’d assume the boy was coming home from working late in the fields or visiting friends. And she knew exactly where to find a t-shirt and some jeans – from the clothesline in her aunt’s yard. Her cousin, Pierre, was only slightly bigger around than she was and, though he was taller, she could fold the pant legs up to the right length.
The rest of her plan fell quickly into place. First, she would stop at Domi’s shelter and quietly steal him away. Then she would continue on to her aunt’s house to take Pierre’s clothes. Next, she’d mount the pony and the two of them would search for Robert. She felt bad taking Domi, but she needed him. With his speed and stamina, she was far more likely to find her little brother before the sun rose, and besides, she couldn’t just abandon the pony to be taken away by Mr. Dupont the next morning. Last of all, she would free Robert while the agent was out looking for her, and the three of them would run away together and hide.
Giselle crept along the dark roads, watchful of any sound or movement. She heard the occasional voice, but they all came from the wider streets where the flickering streetlamps battled the night. The distant thunder of the drums swirled around her, making the shadowy streets seem even more ominous and foreboding. As she approached Madame Celeste’s house, she prepared herself mentally. She was feeling more and more guilty at the thought of stealing Domi.
If only Madame owed me more money, she thought. Then I wouldn’t feel so bad. But we have to take him. Robert and I need him and he needs us. When I get older and get a job, I’ll send Madame the money for him, even more than she’ll get from Mr. Dupont. I swear it.
Her hand had just touched the gate leading to Madame’s yard when Domi’s small hoof struck the wooden frame of his canvas shelter. Instantly, Giselle froze. Someone was waiting there in the darkness for her, she was sure – and the pony didn’t like whoever it was. She could feel his tension brushing against her, warning her away. His hoof hit the wood again and he snorted.
Slowly, so slowly, Giselle retraced her steps and slipped into the neighbour’s yard. Someone had been hiding near Domi’s shelter waiting for her! And there was only one person it could be the restavec agent. Her aunt must have told him Giselle would go to Domi. She swallowed nervously. It showed how well her aunt knew her habits if she’d sent the agent there.
A dog whined as she crept along the fence opposite the house. “Belle,” she whispered, her voice as soft as breath. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”
The dog, as black as night, padded toward her. Giselle held out her hand and the dog licked her fingers. “Good girl,” she murmured and continued on her way through the yard.
Suddenly, the front door burst open. With a gasp, Giselle dropped to the ground. Light spilled through the open doorway and splashed across the yard.
“Belle!” The dog trotted toward the young boy who stood in the doorway. The boy knelt, put a pot on the ground, and rubbed the dog’s hairy shoulders as she ate, murmuring words too low for Giselle to hear.
Giselle held as still as she could. She only hoped he wouldn’t notice the lightness of her dress, stretched along the dark ground. Her stomach growled as she listened to the dog gulp down the scraps, despite her determination not to feel hungry. She hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime, and that had been only a single mango.
As soon as I get Robert, we’ll eat some of the food Serena gave me, she thought. But only a little. Who knows how long it’ll be until we find more?
The boy patted Belle one more time and then went back inside the house with the empty pot. The closed door shut in the light and Giselle rose cautiously to her feet. Belle followed her to the front gate and Giselle stopped to scratch beneath the dog’s chin before she closed the gate. “Thanks for keeping my secret, Belle,” she whispered. “Have a good life.”
She ran across the street and through another yard, then raced down another narrow unlit alley to approach her aunt’s house from the back. The light was still on in the kitchen but, fortunately, both bedrooms were dark. The clothesline was at the back of the house and, unless her aunt was in her bedroom with the light off and looking out the window, Giselle could easily take the clothes she needed.
Bent double, she opened the gate and crept along the fence toward the clothesline. She noticed with relief that Pierre’s clothes were still there. Since Giselle was the one who normally brought in the laundry, she guessed her aunt had forgotten the clothes were still hanging out. With shaking hands, she undid the clothespins holding one of his shirts to the line and felt another momentary twinge of guilt. Pierre didn’t have many nice clothes, and the shirt she was taking was his favourite. But it was the only dark-coloured shirt on the line. She unpinned some pants, and with the clothes flung over her shoulder, hurried back the way she’d come.
Within seconds, she was racing down the dark alley away from the house. Half a block away, she threw her dress to the ground, turned the shirt inside out so the light coloured emblem on the front wouldn’t show, and slipped it over her head. Then she pulled on the jeans. Just as she’d thought, they were too long. She started to fold up the bottoms, but then stopped. She couldn’t afford to have the pant legs unroll and trip her at a crucial time like if she were running away from the agent. The material was too strong to rip with her hands. It wasn’t until she took the jeans off and used her teeth to start the tear that she was able to rip the bottom of the pant legs away.
Trying to walk as boy-like as possible, she started down the alley. She’d done the easy stuff. Now she needed to find where Robert had been taken and rescue him. Then they could both go back for Domi. Maybe by then the agent would be tired of waiting for her to show up and be gone.
And once the three of them were together, the most overwhelming task of all would begin she would have to build a new life for them. Somewhere. Somehow.
Domi. I am here. Wea
k and blinded for a time I am, but soon I will help you.
Yes, I will be silent. You say there is someone nearby who has malicious intent? Someone who wishes to do harm?
I will be still and wait for my strength to return. Then we will act.
The man shrank back against the solid fence. Soft rustling noises were coming from inside the pony’s shack. He knew it couldn’t be the girl. There was only one entrance to the crude shelter, and he was watching it. The pony was probably just a little anxious, sensing he was waiting there in the darkness. He hoped its nervousness didn’t warn the girl off.
The man scowled into the night as a new possibility presented itself. Maybe the girl had already come, sensed the pony’s agitation, and guessed someone was there. If she had, he was wasting his time and, even worse, each moment she’d be getting farther away, making it harder to find and catch her.
But what if she hadn’t come yet?
How much longer should he wait?
He waits outside, across the yard in the darkest shadows, for one who has already tried to come to you once tonight your true friend, the girl who works for your person.
I am sorry, Domi. Yes, I understand the girl is your person and not this woman who professes to own you. The girl is the one who has claimed your heart. She must be kind to have won your love, dear Domi. Do not worry. We will do our best to save her from this man who wishes her harm. But first we must find her, and to do that, we must get away without alerting the one who is watching and waiting for her.
Slave Child (Horse Guardian) Page 2