Dear Haiti, Love Alaine

by Maika Moulite

  Later we moved on to taking turns sharing details about ourselves as we sat on the edge of the shore, close enough to have the waves crawl up our legs and lick our calves.

  “I’m definitely getting out of here,” Marc said when Félicité “casually” asked about our hopes, dreams, and life goals. His father was an executive at Haiti’s top cell phone company.

  “Don’t you feel the need to stay and help?” I asked.

  “No amount of help I could offer will save this country,” he said matter-of-factly. I couldn’t reconcile the good-natured guy I’d met with this person with no hope.

  “Well, sure, if you have that attitude,” Jason said.

  “No, I get it,” Félicité said. “Look at it this way. You and Alaine chose to come here. Your place is in the United States. The land of the free. Home of the brave. Whatever. When your internships are over, you’re going to hop on a plane and go back to all that.”

  “Sometimes you don’t want to be responsible for everyone else’s problems,” Marc said.

  “Or feel guilty for what you have,” Félicité interjected.

  “Yeah! It’s hard to look down the hills of Massif de la Selle and know there are people looking up at you, wishing they could take your place.”

  “And when you go abroad, everyone thinks all Haitians live in poverty,” she said.

  “That’s a huge pet peeve of mine,” Marc said.

  Jason and I exchanged a look. Our cousins were entitled to their opinions, but it was disconcerting nonetheless. I’m sure this was part of the angst that had pushed my mother to New York for school and eventually to DC—the irony of a privileged life in a bereft nation. Until this trip, I’d spent my entire existence away from either side of Haiti, and I couldn’t see myself ever living here full-time. Félicité was right. I couldn’t fully understand their disdain when they’d spent their lives on the periphery of such pain.

  “Doesn’t the poverty affect you at all?” Jason asked. Deep down, I knew how easy it was to be wrapped in your own world, no matter where it was located. A few rides on a roller coaster had me forgetting my dad’s lecture and Daniel, Anne, and their kids.

  “Of course it does, man,” Marc said. “I just need to get away for a bit. Maybe go to Stanford for four years.” He grinned.

  “I wouldn’t stay away forever,” Félicité said. Her parents ran a popular hotel near the US embassy that was always featured on travel documentary shows. Someone would need to take over when they retired.

  “It’s still home,” Marc agreed.

  I looked at the grains of sand around us. The cruise company had shuttered its passengers away from what—and who—resided beyond Labadie’s barbed gates.

  “Has anyone ever gone past the tourist spots here?” I asked.

  “No,” Jason said. “But I’m down if you are.”

  “Sure. Why not?” Marc said. We turned and waited for Félicité to weigh in.

  She sighed. “Let’s go.”

  We picked up our towels and walked back to where Tony’s boat was docked. While Jason, Marc, and Félicité left their things on the long table below deck, I walked around the yacht searching for Tony. I wanted to let him know that we would be right back, but he was nowhere to be found.

  “I can’t find Tony, but we won’t be long anyway,” I said when I got back to the others. “Let’s head over to the locals’ section before he returns.” From the boat I could see the concrete wall that surrounded the entire tourist beach. And even though it was shrouded in trees, there was no denying that it was there to keep the tourists in...or the locals out.

  We left the yacht and headed to where the concrete wall transitioned into a chain-link fence. It towered five feet above us, barbed wire perched at the top like an unraveled slinky.

  “Let’s go through there,” I pointed.

  We neared the opening in the gate and were immediately stopped by a man in green wearing a black hard hat.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “We live right through there, boss man,” Marc said, pointing past the guard to nowhere in particular. He flashed his affable smile, clearly hoping that he could charm his way through to the other side of the barricade. The guard blinked.

  Félicité sucked her teeth as she looked through her purse and handed him a few bills. “We expect to be let back in, san pwoblem.”

  The man smiled widely and gave a mocking bow as he let us pass. “Of course, mademoiselle.”

  “Nice,” I said.

  “Money talks,” she replied.

  “Sure does,” I said, thinking of Tati Estelle’s night in jail.

  “I don’t know what she has you doing, but hurry it up,” she said more quietly beside me.

  As we walked away from the tourist-designated area, it was clear to see that the rest of Labadie was not developed. Wooden walkways quickly turned into rocky roads, the island music that played nonstop once passengers got off the cruise ships fading into a dull din of steel drums. After a short while, we reached the edge of a sizable cluster of trees, ducking as we stepped through a patch of low-hanging leaves. I led the way, the sound of dry twigs snapping beneath our feet now the only noise as we wound deeper into the small forest. A group of beetles swarmed around a dark mass that I didn’t care to get a better look at and I quickened my steps to put some distance between us and what I could only guess was a dead animal. Jason and Marc followed closely behind Félicité and me, our surroundings growing darker with each step.

  Here.

  I couldn’t explain why, but this was where I needed to stop. Where we stood looked just as similar as the rest of the forest, except for a small cluster of hibiscuses. Félicité gasped in delight as she bent down to inspect the beautiful ruby flowers, Jason and Marc following her lead. While they were distracted, I pulled out the small jar from my bag and unscrewed the top. I sent up a small prayer of thanks that the others paid me no mind, because I knew that there was no way to logically explain what I was doing.

  I used the lid of the jar to quickly fill the container with soil and silently screwed on the top once I was done. I took one more look at my collection before placing it into my bag and noticed a small spider hanging on to the outside of the jar for dear life. I stifled a scream and silently shook the creature off, resisting the urge to throw the entire jar away. I slipped the spider-free container into my bag just as Jason called for me to join them.

  I skipped over and noticed the bright red hibiscus he extended toward me. I looked up at him to comment on it, and as I did, he took the flower and tucked it behind my ear.

  “Pretty,” he said quietly.

  My heart fluttered and I looked away, suddenly forgetting what I was about to say. Thankfully (or not so thankfully), Félicité and Marc joined us and soon we were headed back to the tourist section of the peninsula.

  The guard let us back in san pwoblem, as promised. We all agreed that we needed a bite to eat before heading back to Tony, so we made our way to the buffet station that the cruise line had ready in a teal, open-air building. An easy rhythm fell over us as we grabbed some food, teasing and laughing the entire time. Once our plates were piled with slices of melon, pieces of fried plantain and yuca bathed in pikliz, and tender chunks of griot, we headed back to the beach and hung out on a large blanket in the sand.

  Somewhere between stuffing my face and giggling at Jason and Marc poking fun at Félicité, I must’ve fallen asleep, because I awoke to a cold splat on my stomach. My eyes flew open and I saw Jason standing above me with his hands dripping wet sand. I jumped up and chased him into the water, splashing, laughing, and shouting like a child in an amusement park. Félicité and Marc joined us and we played around until we were lying on the shore again, catching our breath.

  “We should find Tony,” I said. I’d had a better time than I’d expected, but I wanted to go home and
check on my mom. Confirm my parents hadn’t killed each other. Glare at Tati Estelle.

  We grabbed our belongings and left for the makeshift harbor.

  “I think that’s him,” Félicité said, squinting toward the man showing his ID card to enter the tourist-designated area of the peninsula.

  Tony flashed a wide smile as we walked toward him, his empty peanut butter crates in tow.

  “Ah. Just the young people I wanted to see. There’s a storm coming,” Tony said. “Maybe we should wait it out.”

  “Storm? What storm?” I said, looking up at the nearly cloudless sky. The sun would be setting in about an hour and a half and I wanted to be back on the mainland before then.

  “I have a bad leg,” Tony said, tapping on his right knee. “And I can taste it in the air. Can’t you?”

  “Not really,” Félicité said flatly.

  “We’ll be fine!” I said, waving my hand at my cousin to keep her from saying anything else. I pointed at the empty crates that Tony held in his hands. “And you can tell us all about the sales you made today on the way back.”

  Tony looked up at the sky and shielded his eyes from the sun. Finally, he said, “Eh bien. Let’s pray that I’m wrong and that we have an easy trip.”

  We boarded the yacht and went down to the lower deck to leave our bags for safekeeping. As we joined Tony in the cockpit, we watched the sun set, burnt orange bleeding slowly into the horizon. The four of us stood behind Tony as he steered us to Cormier, recapping our day among ourselves while he hummed along to the music that played throughout the boat.

  I will never, ever forget you.

  But it breaks my heart to be near you...

  “Can you turn it up, please?” I asked, tapping Tony on the shoulder. It was that same song from the ride to Priscilla’s wedding and the reception. I grabbed Jason’s hand and led him out to the prow of the boat, the music leading the way. I pulled him close, wrapping his arms around my waist. I could blame my boldness on the beers we had earlier in the day, but I knew that wasn’t it. Marc whistled over the speakers from the cockpit.

  Jason and I swayed to the music, my head resting on his chest. No one would ever call me a smooth operator, and normally I would’ve talked myself out of even suggesting that I wanted to dance. But for once, I didn’t overthink. Jason made me forget how self-conscious I usually was with guys I found even marginally attractive, and I let out a contented sigh as we continued to glide around the yacht. There must’ve been something to this song because soon Félicité and Marc joined us at the front of the boat. I watched as the two of them moved closer together, staring out at the water, whispering with their heads bowed.

  “Eps!” Tony tutted over the speakers that Marc had used earlier, glancing exaggeratedly between where Jason and I danced and Félicité and Marc stood. “Hands where I can see them, lovebirds.” He chuckled to himself as if he had just told the funniest joke.

  I was twirling when the first drop of rain landed on my forehead. Then my nose. My lips. The once-orange sky was now a dark sheet of clouds, heavy with water.

  “Uh...what’s your knee telling you now?” Félicité shouted to Tony, her voice trembling slightly. The sky crackled with electricity, with thunder booming seconds after.

  “We’re almost to Cormier,” Tony said over the speakers. Even from where we stood I could see him frowning. “We have no choice but to keep moving forward. Head below deck, you guys.”

  We listened to Tony and went into the interior section of the ship. Félicité and I sat on a low bench along the wall of the cabin while Marc and Jason paced restlessly nearby. Soon the waves that had been gently lapping against the sides of the boat turned vicious, each surge of water slamming harder against the hull, the boat rocking back and forth like a rogue bassinet. The heavens ripped open and released bullets of water, washing away our high spirits. The wind picked up with a low howl and I scooted closer to Félicité. Another shriek tore through the boat, and this time the force of it knocked Jason over to where we sat. He tripped over me and landed on my lap in a clumsy heap that I didn’t have time to brace myself for.

  “I’m sorry,” he yelled over the ocean roar as he tried to straighten himself. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine!” I said although I feared I would not be for long.

  In the distance, we could see that we were nearing Cormier Beach’s shoreline. A collective sense of relief washed over us as we all relaxed, if only for a moment. As Tony pushed forward, the wind reemerged, singing a dangerous medley, seducing us to give up the fight for safety. The boat swung forcefully to the left and a flash of lightning illuminated a wall of rocks that seemed to appear out of nowhere. There was a sickening crunch as the left side of the boat scraped along the small boulders.

  “Brace yourselves!” Tony grunted over the speakers as he tried with all his might to steer the boat away from danger. But there was nothing he could do as the wind picked up a second time. We slammed against the stones again and again, a rag doll being yanked back and forth in the teeth of an angry dog. Tony must have lost his grip on the wheel, because without warning, we were all tossed to one side of the boat.

  The cabin glowed brightly as a thick bolt of lightning streaked through the sky. The deafening sound of wood splitting crashed through the air and we could see a cloud of black smoke follow in its lethal wake. It felt as if Zeus himself was hurtling lightning bolts toward us with each flash of electricity. I racked my brain, searching for anything I might have learned at school that could’ve prepared me for this, and came up with nothing. My voice was trapped in my throat. I couldn’t scream. My mind was inundated with a flurry of thoughts. This is all my fault. How could this happen? We could very well die here. I might actually die before my mother.

  Tony burst through the doors to where we were below deck. “She’s taking on water! We have to get off!”

  Tony motioned for us to follow him. We scaled the perimeter of the yacht as fast as we dared back up to the cockpit, where the life jackets were kept. Suddenly, I remembered my collection from Labadie. Without hesitating, I raced past the others to head to the lower deck, where our bags were stored. Tony’s eyes bulged, the wind ripping his words away as he shouted for me to come back.

  If there’s a chance that we might live through this, I can’t mess this up!

  I could feel the water sloshing beneath my feet as I ran over to our things. I quickly grabbed my satchel and put my arms through the straps to secure it onto my back.

  “Alaine! What are you doing?” Tony bellowed as he burst through the doors to the lower deck. “Put on your life jacket and let’s go!” Tony shoved the life jacket onto me and over my bag, quickly snapping it into place. He took my hand and dragged me back up to the cockpit to join Félicité, Marc, and Jason.

  We stood at the front of the bow waiting for Tony to let us know when it was time to jump, and another wave of guilt hit me. Why did I insist on leaving? Would it really have been the worst thing for us to stay a little while longer in Labadie? And then I thought of the dirt that sat in the mason jar in my bag. If I lost it because of this terrible storm, I knew my parents wouldn’t let me return to collect more. I couldn’t have come this far for it to all fall apart.

  I glanced at Tony and saw the anxiety that painted his face. I was worrying about losing this dirt for something that I wasn’t completely sure I believed in, while a part of his livelihood was being ripped right away from him. And it was because of me. Still, I sent up a prayer that nothing would happen to my collection. Or us.

  Tony signaled that it was time and we jumped on the count of trois. The ink-black water was freezing, and my teeth immediately began to chatter. When my head broke the surface, I was relieved to see that Tony was right; land wasn’t too far out. I looked left, then right, and saw a bouncing orange life vest. It was Jason, yelling what I could safely guess was Swim! I sent up another pra
yer that we would make it safely to shore and propelled my arms with every ounce of force I had left in my body. Each stroke left me weaker than the last as the water battered us in relentless waves, slamming down on our heads in painful sprays. The wind gave another howl, an unforgettable tune that I wondered if the others heard too.

  My head dunked below the surface and water flooded through my mouth into my chest. I flailed my arms as salt stung my eyes. Strong arms took hold of me and pulled my head above water. My lungs were on fire. Each cough that racked my body stoked the flames. I looked dazedly into Jason’s eyes.

  “We need to get to land!” he yelled over the laughing wind.

  “Félicité,” I croaked, and Jason gestured toward my cousin and Marc, kicking furiously up ahead.

  “Can you make the swim?”

  I glanced to the shore and saw a bright orange jacket drifting up and down like a lazy yo-yo ahead of Félicité and Marc. It was Tony. Farther and farther, he drifted toward shore.

  I took a deep breath and nodded. Jason loosened his grip on my arm and we pushed through the water. The waves slapped nonchalantly against us, as if we were no longer worth the effort of a true battle. After what felt like hours, our feet touched sand. I could see three bright orange life jackets already ashore, two huddled near one another, the other a short ways off. Alone. Jason and I crawled over to the first pair of jackets and only when we were right near them did I see that it was Félicité and Marc. We all lay back together, a tangle of limbs not unlike how we had been earlier in the day. The wind gave a final, deafening cry of defeat, and then the world was calm again, all traces of the storm erased.

  “Is everyone okay?” I asked when I finally caught my breath.