Chapter 28: Motherland

Little Haiti, Miami, Florida: mid-June

In mid-June, Wilson received an email message from his cousin Henri in Haiti. In it, Henri told Wilson that he had been contacted by the Haitian government about the elder Tamara, Nadine’s mother. Wilson decided to phone Henri instead of replying by email, and after a day of trying to connect, he was finally successful.

“Hey, Henri—what’s up? What did you hear about Nadine’s mom?”

“Bonswa, zanmi,” Henri replied. “You recall that the government had me as a contact for the Bernard family. As part of that funeral that we arranged, remember that I registered myself as Cassandra’s ... ah, Nadine’s next of kin here.”

“Right. I made you the executor of her estate, such as it was, and to handle the sale of our property.”

“Oui. That was done. So, two days ago I was visited by someone from the Justice Ministry. This visit was about Vanessa. Now that she’s dead, and because of her crimes, the government has seized her property—no will was found and she has no heirs. So the government is now trying to locate people who were affected by her murders and enslavement, to make restitution. Apparently she left records that name the people who she enslaved or murdered. One of those murdered people turns out to be Cas ... oh, I can’t get used to that ... Nadine’s manman, Tamara.”

“Oh, shit. So she did really murder her.”

“Effectively, yes. The ministry guy said that one of Vanessa’s chochés told the investigators that there had been some magic—or whatever it is that they do—battles leading up to a battle royal, between Vanessa and Tamara. Vanessa had been holding Tamara captive and was trying to force her to join her anti-government group. The choché said that Vanessa was trying to beat Tamara’s will down but apparently Tamara was really strong. The choché told the investigators that, at that final battle, Tamara seemed to be the stronger of the two, because suddenly Vanessa collapsed—somehow Tamara caused her to have something like a heart attack. Her bodyguard rushed her to the hospital and she had to have a pacemaker. But Vanessa really hurt Tamara too. After the battle, the choché said that Tamara was very weak and died about two weeks later. Vanessa never got her any medical care.”

“Damn, what a story. So one of the junior chochés saw all that.”

“Oui. Also, they found some property at Vanessa’s compound which they identified as having been Tamara’s. And the government got a court ruling saying that survivors of those who Vanessa had murdered will get compensation from Vanessa’s estate. I held the guy off; told him I knew that you, at least, were alive. He said that as Tamara’s Haitian son-in-law, you would be eligible for the compensation.”

“Henri, you have well-and-truly blown my mind. I suppose I should come?”

“For sure.”

“The FBI here says that my family can come out of hiding now. What’s your feeling about our safety from what you see there, politically?”

“Cas... modi ... I mean Nadine. She’s remembered fondly here, not only locally. Word got out that she resisted Vanessa. I don’t think she’d be in any danger.”

Wilson told him that he’d arrange to travel to Haiti as soon as possible.

When Nadine returned with Tamara, they both had been shopping for college clothes for Tamara, Wilson filled them in.

“Oh, mon dieu!” Nadine exclaimed when she heard the news.

Tamara just nodded.

Nadine looked at her. “You knew?” Tamara nodded again. “You didn’t tell me...”

“Manman, I told you before that I didn’t want to look at those memories. Somehow, Granmanman planted them in my head so that I would have to ‘ask’ that I see them. I didn’t want to yet. But just now, Papa’s news brought out that one memory. Granmanman had a wicked battle with Vanessa, but Vanessa was starving her. Granmanman was saving all of her energies for the fight she knew was coming—and she almost won. But it took its toll, as Papa said. Manman, she must have been an awesome person!” Tamara said, tears streaking her face. “There are many more memories in there too but I can’t face them yet.”

Nadine hugged her daughter. “That’s okay, chérie. I won’t push you into unlocking them.”

The family made plans for a Haiti trip; both parents had to arrange to get time off their jobs. The soonest they were both able to get time off was in the beginning of August; Henri assured them that the six-week delay would not be a problem.

Early July

Tamara spent the first part of the summer finishing up her work at the medical school MRI lab. Leaving the lab and the people she had become close to, especially Dr Beauford and Tim Saunders, was going to be particularly painful for her. But they both assured her that this was a step in maturing her as a scientist, because leaving close colleagues was something that frequently happened as people’s careers advanced. Much of her time at the lab was spent in working on the two articles that she and Beauford were preparing for submission to the medical journal he had selected.

She also went out on occasional dates with Jerome during the summer; some dates were solo and some were doubles with Linda and Carlos. Tamara felt that there was no chemistry between herself and Jerome and besides, all four teens were mentally gearing up for college and that planning was consuming all of their mental energies.

Several dates were visits to the beach but Tamara and Linda had vetoed any thought of going to Haulover Beach—even the clothed section. Carlos agreed with the girls.

Then August arrived and with it came the Alexandres’ trip to Haiti.

Port-au-Prince, Haiti: beginning of August

Their arrival in Haiti started off with a bang—the family used their diplomatic passports at the airport and that attracted the attention of the supervising officials. The commotion increased when Wilson showed his Haitian passport—issued in the Bernard name—and then declared that the whole family had dual citizenship and had changed their names because of the Vanessa threat. Suddenly the family became heroes.

“Now that Vanessa’s gone, I came back to Haiti to close out my family’s affairs here,” he told the supervisor. “We’ll be staying with my cousin in Lafiteau. That’s where I worked when I lived here.”

“Well, we’re delighted to have you back in Haiti and hope that your stay is productive,” the supervisor responded.

When they left the customs area, Wilson saw Henri and Julienne waiting.

Everyone greeted each other warmly, and Wilson told them, “Jeez, they really gave us the third degree at customs. Wonder if it was the diplomatic passports.”

“Possibly,” Henri said. “I think the officials get nervous when unexpected diplomats arrive.”

The family visited with Henri’s for a day, and the following day, Nadine and Wilson went to Aubry, to the community center there. Henri had spread the word among Nadine’s followers that she had been misidentified as having died; she somehow had survived the earthquake and would be visiting the community center to meet with her former congregation members.

It was a tearful reunion for all of Nadine’s followers and Nadine had to explain how she and Tamara had been injured in the ‘quake and had gotten help to get to Port-au-Prince and had been airlifted for medical care. The family had fabricated the story that Wilson thought the people in rubble near his home were his wife and daughter and, distraught and having been injured himself, was able to get to Miami too, where immigration officials had realized they were a family and gotten them together. They had their names changed when they heard that Vanessa was trying to locate Nadine.

Several days later, the intervening days filled with visiting their friends, the Alexandres met with a Justice Ministry official at Vanessa’s compound. He led them to a building behind the main house. When they walked in, Tamara stiffened.

“Oh, hell,” she whispered. “This place still reeks of evil.”

The official pointed to an open door. “They had cages in that room. Vanessa kept prisoners here.”

Tamara walked down a hall to a closed door.

“She was a prisoner in here, Manman,” she told Nadine. “I can feel some power left even now.”

The official looked frightened. “You can feel power?” he asked. “From a deceased person?”

Tamara realized that he was superstitious. “It’s not a big deal. Not a zonbi. You know how you can sometimes smell someone’s scent even long after they left a room?”

He nodded uncertainly.

“So, like the body gives off its scent, it also gives off something like electrical signals—they use a brain machine, an EEG, to detect them, right?”

He nodded again.

“Some sensitive people can feel those signals. Like me. Okay?”

He grimaced. “I suppose. Okay, Mrs Alexandre. They asked me to show you this place.” He shuddered. “Let’s go to the main house now.”

“One second, I need to look,” Tamara said and opened the door.

It was a bare room, with bars on the single window. A small mattress lay on the floor in one corner.

Tamara shivered. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go,” she told them.

When they entered the main house, the official led them to a room which appeared to be set up like a sitting room, but it was also filled with religious artefacts.

“The records Vanessa kept showed that she collected many artefacts. Her records show that she removed many possessions from your mother’s home too,” the man said. “She also had a journal. It was like a diary, but she wrote her plans in it; records of her activities, and there were lists of people she had influenced in it, too.”

Nadine was looking around the room as the man spoke.

“Mezanmi!” Nadine exclaimed. “Manman’s drums! They’re here! That miserable bòkò—choché, she stole them.”

Nadine walked around the room and identified a number of other items that had been her mother’s. The official looked at his clipboard and nodded.

“Yes, the record agrees. Vanessa’s notes show that those were your mother’s,” he concurred. “We will have to arrange a formal hearing to transfer the ownership of those artifacts to you. We also have prepared an extract of Vanessa’s journal, which I an sure you’ll want to read. We only redacted items of a sensitive personal and political nature.”

“I would like that very much.”

“I have been told that she died in your presence,” the official went on. “And it was by your capture of one of her ... ah ... agents, that her ambitions were exposed.”

“That is true.”

“In that case, our government owes very much to you, Mrs Alexandre.”

“I’m just thankful that we were able to foil her plans,” Nadine said softly. “It didn’t bring Manman back though. Is there any record of the location of her grave?”

“Unfortunately, no. That woman was responsible for dozens of deaths and the government hasn’t been able to locate any of the remains. None of the people who remained here after we received word of Vanessa’s demise knew anything about the disposition of her victims.”

“Ah. I had hoped...” Nadine said, dejectedly.

“I am very sorry. Now to the real estate. This property used to be a small hotel. We had it appraised at 262 million gourdes; that’s about $1.8 million U.S. Vanessa’s other assets and seized bank balances are another 207 million gourdes. We haven’t finished valuing personal property like vehicles and such, but we expect that amount to be negligible in comparison. You would be eligible for part of her estate as compensatory damages, especially since you provided proof that you had to flee Haiti to escape her.”

“Thank you,” Wilson told the official. “Do we have to remain in Haiti or return for any hearings?”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary. You have jobs in the U.S. you must return to, correct?”