The Rude, Crude Awakening
Chapter 34
The phone awakened me from a deep, dreamy sleep. It turned out it wasn’t a social call by any means. It was a damn serious warning!
“You don’t have a friend in Jesus or Frank Armand,” the caller began. He was now fully alert hearing the ominous line.
“Frank’s a traitor, a turncoat and a threat to you. You personally and what you’ve been doing in Haiti. He’s a ruthless son-of-a-bitch who’s played both of us for fools!”
I suspected my early hour caller was none other than the agency’s chief of station. He wouldn’t delegate the call to one of his underlings. Not in this instance. It was too important. I lit a cigarette to clear my mind. I always smoked before getting fucked over...hard. I knew it was a bad habit, the rough sex part.
“OK, our bad. We vetted him or so we thought. It turns out he’s Mama Mambos nephew and a capo in The Family.”
Perhaps I’d been mistaken about the CIA. I just might be talking to a Mafioso instead. It was mox nix to me, a distinction without a difference. I continued to listen intently, blowing smoke rings into the air.
“So watch your step and back. By the way, check the planter outside your room. We left you a little gift. You just might need it.”
My erstwhile friend then hung up on me without saying adios or arrivederci or anything else equally inane. Those agency types could be so discourteous, that’s why they weren’t real diplomats like some of us. Then again, maybe it was a good sign. No final farewell, no goodbye forever. Perhaps my mortality might stay intact awhile longer.
The planter contained a Smith & Wesson Model 60 five-shot revolver wrapped in oil cloth. Its chambers were all loaded and ready to fire. I wasn’t sure I was so ready, still thinking about the call. It might be true skinny or some disinformation to muddy my relationship with Frank. Time would tell as the saying goes. Speaking of which, it was still very early so I rolled over and went back to sleep.
***
Nobody had seen hide, nor hair, nor scale of Mama Mambo for several days; not her followers, her cronies in the ministries or the reporters who’d been hounding her for the past few weeks. It was if she disappeared off the face of Haiti and into thin air. And people were talking, whispering and gossiping about her whereabouts. Even the newshounds had picked up the scent and were clamoring for answers. After all, she was a controversial figure, voodoo queen and celebrity wrapped into one very large package. She couldn’t be missed. Could she?
Frank had done his clichéd part to stir the pot and muddy the waters. He put the word out that Mama had fled to the United States. He argued it was an understandable act since her life had been threatened many times recently. “Who could blame her?” He’d rhetorically ask anyone who’d listen.
However, people weren’t pleased, especially her followers, her fellow voodooists. They depended on her for guidance and leadership. She’d betrayed them by leaving, plain and simple. She was a selfish, cowardly woman who abandoned them in a time when the country just might be making real, sustainable progress. She’d been a bright hope for the future, their future. They believed she could achieve high office, especially with their support. Now she was gone and they didn’t know if or when she’d return.
They believed The Family needed strong leadership, someone who could move their nascent, but fast growing organization forward, perhaps someone like Frank Armand. And Frank wholeheartedly agreed. He’d been lobbying to take over the leadership role, but in subtle ways through kibitzing with prominent followers. He was playing the role of smart politician, letting the followers think they’d chosen him. In fact, he’d been bequeathed the position already by default. Not Mama’s, but his fault. And the point hadn’t been lost on the followers…his followers now.
Frank had just been crowned and he was pleased. He’d now achieved his lifelong goal of taking over the family business and taking it to new heights of profitability. Mama was never a visionary or entrepreneur at heart. She was greedy enough, but didn’t have the foresight or chutzpa to create new and bigger sources of income. Frank had many ideas and he couldn’t wait to start replenishing The Family’s coffers.