Recriminations and Crocodile Tears
Chapter 28
Mohammed wouldn’t come to the mountain so the mountain would come to him. Mama Mambo was laying low, avoiding the sporadic violence and nursing her largely self-inflicted wounds. Maybe she’d triggered the unrest by pushing too hard against the Americans causing them to push back. Now things were getting chaotic in the city and that wasn’t good for business, either the legal or illegal varieties. So, she’d partially blamed herself. She’d underestimated the Americans’ resolve and resilience to keep the U.S. Mission up and operating despite being short staffed. She’d expected them to have cut and run by now, but she’d been mistaken, badly mistaken. And, for the first time, she questioned her own judgment.
She had to speak with Roberto soon to discuss the latest developments. Her credibility in Port-au-Prince had tanked thanks to the Americans’ propaganda campaign against her in the media. Even some of her most faithful followers had quit her ministry. She never anticipated those turns of events. She also worried Roberto might tear up their unwritten contract now that The Family’s efforts to scare the embassy’s Haitian employees had largely failed. More and more of them had returned to their jobs.
Perhaps it was time to change tactics, do something different, maybe this time against the American staff. She wasn’t sure what might work and would consult Roberto, but only if he wanted to continue their business relationship. She said a prayer to her favorite Loa asking for a favorable outcome.
***
Roberto had some thoughts of his own. The Family had done well in frightening the local embassy staff and others in the American business community. But he believed it was time to up the ante in this game and go after Americans, scare them, rough them up a bit, nothing too serious, only a warning they weren’t welcome and should consider leaving.
There were still pockets of virulent, anti-American sentiment in the country resulting in occasional protests at the embassy’s chancery. Climate change, air pollution from Gulf Coast heavy industries and offshore drilling were some of the hot button issues. These activities directly or indirectly affected the Haitians. The better educated and politically active ones highlighted these concerns, rubbing Uncle Sam’s nose in them from time to time.
The protesters weren’t many, but very vocal in taking the Americans to task for its purported misdeeds. According to them, the U.S. wasn’t being a good neighbor or steward of Mother Nature’s resources in the Caribbean. For the Americans, it was all about making the almighty buck and nothing more. Environmental concerns weren’t even a close second in their avaricious minds.
Raping the environments of much weaker nations was just good business as many U.S. conglomerates argued to others of like-mind. In their collective wisdom, it was more like acts of nonconsensual sex with some roofies thrown-in to confuse memories. It was certainly nothing too damning in their overall, self-righteous scheme of things.
Roberto liked the idea of using these thorny issues against the Americans. Yes, raise them high and use the bastards’ greed and arrogance to inflict more mischief. Keep them off balance and guessing as to what was going on. Make them suffer like his countrymen had during the decades’ long embargo. It was simply payback. And he had some specific, devious thoughts about how to go about making such things happen. Mama Mambo and her goons might be gainfully employed awhile longer. The old, greedy bitch would be pleased! He meant to think witch, but either word would nicely fit.
***
The techies at the embassy’s station were scratching their collective heads, figuratively speaking. The damn thing hadn’t worked since day one and they were puzzled. The transmitter issued to Frank Armand was considered one of the most reliable bugs in their technical arsenal. It had been tested and retested before being handed over. It’d worked perfectly in their office. So what had happened, they wondered? The same model had been used successfully many times over around the world so this situation was a mystery. They even remotely tweaked the device a few times and got no response. It was DOA. Maybe the Dick Avery person had damaged it or simply screwed things up. Those State Department types couldn’t be trusted. Well, the technicians ultimately chalked it up to the old adage that shit sometimes happens. That was their best scientific guess. After all, this was Haiti and not much worked or worked right in the godforsaken country.
***
Frank knocked at the back door of his aunt’s house since he didn’t want to be seen by any nosey neighbors or anyone else for that matter. It was time to have a heart-to-heart talk with Her Nibs and that meant he’d once again lay out his objections to The Family’s activities against the Americans. They had to come to a stop.
“Hello my son, how are things? Frank immediately knew Mama had not heard of Desmond’s gruesome demise. She would’ve worn her black, mourning muumuu, if she’d already gotten word. So, he’d be the bearer of good tidings. Neither one would miss him or mourn his passing. He’d always been a miscreant and a worrisome irritation for The Family. Mama would play up her devoted son’s death with dramatic flair and a few manufactured tears. But that would be it. She’d be glad he was gone for good. Good riddance!
“Mama, Desmond is dead.”
She didn’t miss a beat and asked how he died. It was simply a matter of curiosity absent even an ounce of empathy. Frank gave an account of what he’d heard on the street.
She simply nodded her head and said.
“I’m not surprised. It was going to happen sooner or later given his reckless, evil ways. He was a troublesome curse from the very beginning. I should have smothered him with a pillow after giving birth. Crib deaths are not uncommon here. But he now rests in the loving arms of Lord Bondye. I have no wish to speak of Desmond anymore.”
“Then we have another matter to discuss, an important one to you and our family.” Frank sat down in a chair without being invited. He really didn’t need permission since the house would soon be his.
“This Cuban nonsense must stop now! It was a mistake working for them and taking their money. Look at what’s happening in the streets as we speak! People are turning against one another, violence is spreading, and now UN peacekeepers have arrived in the city. This is not good for family business, Mama. You need to cut ties with the Cubans before all is lost.”
“Frank, you’re talking like a frightened child and not as a strong Houngan which you are destined to become. We need to keep the Cuban money flowing to support my ministry. It’s our biggest source of income. Our other business ventures do well, but I’m planning to increase, not curtail, our activities against the Americans. I need to first discuss the matter with Roberto and get his blessing.”
Mama had just signed her own death warrant, Frank darkly thought. She had to go quietly and quickly into that good night. With her, it was all about money, power and ego, not the good of The Family. While the media attacks had tarnished her reputation, she was now gaining more credibility with her followers by performing the zombie stunt the other night. She might be unstoppable in her quest for more influence and glory. And she’d be a shoe-in for the city council position she badly wanted. It would be the start of a political career and her ascension to much higher office or so she believed.
But Frank knew that wouldn’t happen because there was a new sheriff coming to town and things would change for the better. The Family would be protected and its elicit businesses would grow and prosper under his leadership. Frank mentally started polishing his badge.