{"id":968,"date":"2016-06-15T18:02:10","date_gmt":"2016-06-15T18:02:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/?p=968"},"modified":"2020-10-09T23:08:54","modified_gmt":"2020-10-09T23:08:54","slug":"how-to-stay-in-haiti","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/2016\/06\/15\/how-to-stay-in-haiti\/","title":{"rendered":"How to Stay in Haiti"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

By Sharon Dilworth<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

“The Hotel was charming and, judging from what she had seen of the city, completely out of place. The overbuilt white gingerbread house with the wrap-around veranda was perched above the city. The rooms and dinning veranda had a spectacular view of the bay and airport. The rooms were cool and always shaded, hidden behind the overgrown bougainvillea. The floors were sloped, the ceiling fans turned overhead and clicked away like soft background music.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

By Sharon Dilworth<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The American Hippie at the Hotel Oloffson in Port-au-Prince wanted to know Carolyn\u2019s story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think I have one,\u201d she said. It was too early in the day for rum but she sat at the Hippie\u2019s table when he suggested a drink because she had nothing else to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEveryone has a story,\u201d he told her. The warm Caribbean sun did not bother the Hippie. He licked moisture from his red-gray moustache and drank from his glass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe,\u201d she shrugged. \u201cBut mine\u2019s not that interesting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His story she knew. Six days in Haiti and she had heard him tell it to everyone who walked by his table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNutrition is my thing,\u201d he told Carolyn as if this was news. \u201cI\u2019m trying to get the Haitians to eat better.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure they\u2019d like that,\u201d Carolyn said. She had asked for something cold to drink and the waiter brought over a bottle of Pepsi and a large church-key opener. She popped the top and watched the air release in a short stream of blueness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Hippie leaned across the table. \u201cBut I\u2019m not going to be like the Red Cross.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo?\u201d Carolyn asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot me. I\u2019m not going to throw food at them. Those assholes are so afraid to land their precious planes on this island, they come in low and air drop rice and beans from thousands of feet up. Do you have any idea what that looks like?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn imagined small bags of rice falling from the sky and thought it would be comforting, the way that rain was after a long dry spell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a goddamn mess. Those people are sinners. They should be punished for their atrocities. They\u2019re worse than war criminals. At least Hitler didn\u2019t think he was doing good.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut that\u2019s exactly what he did think \u2013 that he was right,\u201d Carolyn said. \u201cWhy else would he have done it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLike everyone else who\u2019s educated, you\u2019re in the dark about most things,\u201d he said. He went on to tell her about conspiracy plans and blamed the CIA for not allowing the Haitians to plant spinach, which he believed was the one crop that could save the people from starvation. \u201cThere are five different kinds of spinach. It\u2019s a miracle crop, except that the Haitians are scared of it. They hear epinards<\/em> and they think fancy French cooking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Hippie never left the Hotel. Not once since Carolyn had been there. Every morning he came down for breakfast, then moved to the lobby where he read passages from the Bible just loud enough to be annoying. An hour later he was back on the veranda with a drink and cigarette. He\u2019d start in about the epinards and his plan to hand deliver it to the starving peasant. He thought the U.S. should make a distinction between the poor of Port-au-Prince and the non- working millions starving in the countryside. He had opinions on every subject, the kind of person who hadn\u2019t been at a loss for words since he first learned to speak. Mid-afternoon, he\u2019d stumble up to his room, where his deep guttural snores invaded every room in the Hotel. He wasn\u2019t a charity worker; he wasn\u2019t anything but a big bag of wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo tell me,\u201d he said suddenly leaning across the table. \u201cBecause I\u2019ve been watching you these last few days and you\u2019ve got me curious, something I\u2019m usually not. What are you up to?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A Jeep pulled in and Carolyn peered over the railing. She no longer really believed her sister would show up, but she still checked out every vehicle that pulled in. It was the strange looking woman, the one who had checked in the same day as Carolyn. Her skin was dark and wrinkled from too much exposure to the sun. Her face muscles were tense \u2014 her eyes and mouth pulled taut, as if she was ready to pounce on her prey. She was the only person in the Hotel, possibly in the city of Port-au-Prince, and maybe in all of Haiti who was in a hurry. She rushed around the place as if she was being chased. Her little heels clicked against the terrazzo floors. She was always out of breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA pretty girl like you?\u201d the Hippie said. \u201cIn Haiti? Alone? What\u2019s with that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI already told you why I\u2019m here,\u201d Carolyn said. \u201cMy sister\u2019s not well. I\u2019ve come to take care of her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He shook his head as if he disapproved. \u201cThat\u2019s what you say, but I don\u2019t buy it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd that\u2019s what you do, besides all the spinach stuff?\u201d she asked. \u201cYou buy stories?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour sister must be incredibly ill,\u201d the hippie said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe must be,\u201d Carolyn echoed. In the yard, the mange of palm and mango trees looked like a twisted forest. She thought of terrariums \u2013 miniature gardens inside big worlds they did not resemble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHaiti\u2019s not on the way to anywhere else,\u201d he said. \u201cYou don\u2019t just fly down and pick someone up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She thought of the chaos at the airport the afternoon she landed. She had never seen people transporting so much stuff. Gigantic boxes of Tide detergent, baby strollers, mini-refrigerators, microwave ovens, artificial Christmas trees. It had taken nearly three hours to go through customs, everyone opening and unpacking these large crates and suitcases packed like miniature K-marts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cForeigners all have a reason for being here,\u201d the Hippie told her. \u201cEveryone, even if they\u2019re not missionaries, have a mission in this country.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen you tell me, Mr. Expert,\u201d she said. \u201cYou who know everything there is to know. You tell me what I\u2019m doing here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She reached across the table for his pack of cigarettes. He wasn\u2019t pleased and tried to take them from her hands. \u201cThose are very expensive and hard to get now that the US military is gone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If she had a dollar in her pocket, she would have tossed it on the table. Instead she took one and lit it before he could stop her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI owe you one,\u201d she said and got up from the table. The French film crew was in the lobby playing cards. Emile had a cold and wore his jean jacket as if he was physically cold. Carolyn worried that he would melt in the heat. They asked Carolyn to join them. \u201cMaybe later,\u201d she said. She went up to her room and sat on the balcony. She smoked so fast she got dizzy. She stretched out onto the hammock and watched the gnats and mosquitoes circle overhead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was in Haiti because of Jackie. Jackie, her once funky and funny little sister who somehow over the years had become her born again, drug addicted, often breaking-down, wandering lost with no money or means of support little sister.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you think Jackie asks them to contact me?\u201d her mother asked her when the director of Helping Hearts called with the message that Jackie wasn\u2019t doing well. \u201cOr am I just a phone number on her emergency form?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the President,\u201d Carolyn told her. \u201cThe President?\u201d her mother looked worried.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf the new club I\u2019ve formed,\u201d Carolyn said. \u201cIt\u2019s called \u2018How to Rescue Jackie in 8 Easy Steps\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve tried to send money, but you can\u2019t wire transfer money into Haiti.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t she travel with round trip tickets?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThose organizations are not well run.\u201d \u201cHow bad is she?\u201d Carolyn asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNonfunctioning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStep 3,\u201d Carolyn said. \u201cGet comatose so your family is forced to come get you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFly down there,\u201d her mother said. \u201cMake sure she\u2019s not a mess.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow many drugs can there be in Haiti?\u201d Carolyn asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAsk your sister,\u201d her mother said. \u201cIt\u2019s the one subject on which I\u2019m sure she\u2019s incredibly well-informed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie\u2019s religious conversion came in the Philippines while she was still married to her first husband, Dan. Their marriage had always seemed silly, at least to Carolyn. They were too young, like children playing house \u2014 Jackie actually used the wedding presents they got. They went to Manila for a family reunion. It was 1989 and as soon as they got to the country, there was a governmental coup. They were stuck four days in a fancy high rise hotel. There was very little food and no electricity. The phone lines never went down so Dan had called all his old friends and told them that they were in grave danger. Carolyn had heard the story so many times was sure she could recite it with as much perspective and emotional memory as her sister.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soldiers surrounded the block and Jackie began to fear that the men would rape her when they found out she was American.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dan agreed. \u201cThey probably will.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd what would you do about it?\u201d Jackie demanded. \u201cNothing,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNothing?\u201d she asked. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t do anything?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s correct,\u201d he said. \u201cIt would pain me but in the end I couldn\u2019t stop them,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t risk your life to save me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey would rape an American but it\u2019s highly unlikely they would kill one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie had been raised on romance; even under duress, he should have at least pretended to be noble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They had yelled at each other for most of that afternoon, most of the next day and that night. Then word came that the coup had settled. The gunfire and danger passed. No more soldiers, no more strange men coming to kill or to rape anyone. No need for heroic stances, no matter how shallow. Jackie forgave Dan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Christmas Eve, and they were dressing to go to the reunion. She had been gulping wine in relief all afternoon and was drunk and happy, anxious to get out of the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI guess this will be our last Christmas together,\u201d Dan said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie sipped more wine, then said she didn\u2019t understand. \u201cI figure we made it through this, as long as the plane doesn’t crash, we’ll make it through anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That’s when he told her that he was unhappy. He was almost sure he no longer loved her. He had a list of the things she did that irritated him. Should he read it?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don’t think that will be necessary,\u201d Jackie told him and then she went down to the bar where the entire hotel seemed to have gathered. The relief of making it through the coup had changed the atmosphere entirely. A day ago, it had been a war zone, now it was a New Year\u2019s party. The man on the next barstool was a missionary who had been separated from his Church group for reasons he did not want to go into. He bought her a glass of champagne and told her that she was beautiful. He invited her to his room where they celebrated alone. Four days later, she moved with him to Petaluma, California where they lived with his brother, his cat, his ferret, his avocado farm, his two kids, and his wife.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The breakdowns started shortly after her return to the States.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie\u2019s big thing was to get on Greyhound buses and get off when she ran out of money. She was very good at getting money from strangers. Maybe because of her religious conversion, maybe because she was na\u00efve and neurotic, people gave her money when she needed it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Guys in airports were not opposed to her money for airplane tickets. In Las Vegas, a Priest gave her three hundred dollars and a ticket home. People offered her jobs, they gave her food, advice, places to stay. Once a man bought her a leather purse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you do sexual favors for these men?\u201d Carolyn had asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou and I do not share the same world view,\u201d Jackie said. \u201cI believe in people.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But Carolyn had a hard time getting people to tell her where Gate 11 was. She couldn\u2019t imagine asking someone for help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was Jackie\u2019s first international breakdown, and by the time Carolyn got down to Haiti, Jackie was gone. The Helping Hearts had not seen her for a week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe told her you were coming,\u201d they said. \u201cShe seemed happy to hear that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI bet,\u201d Carolyn said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It had been an arduous trip to the Helping Hands headquarters and her head throbbed in the brightness and heat. She had flown into the country the day before. She had stayed at the only hotel she knew \u2014 the Grand Hotel Oloffson. Once there, the manager, a young British guy with an alarming amount of energy for such a warm climate, arranged for a driver to take her to the address on the pamphlets. The Helping Hearts were a well-publicized organization. They had information on every aspect of their operations. The ride across the city was horrendous. The broken down car moved like a boat negotiating its way over turbulent waters. The driver stopped at the National Palace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe home of our Presidents,\u201d he said. She only got out because he did. She was not particularly interested in tourist sites.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLook. Look,\u201d he commanded. The Palace was bright white and she couldn\u2019t look at it. She had left her sunglasses in Pittsburgh, so she he stared at the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTake a picture,\u201d he told her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have a camera,\u201d she answered. Her mouth was dry and she wanted to stop for water, but the didn\u2019t see anything that resembled a store. It was the first time she was in a city with no McDonald\u2019s and she smiled at this. The driver was encouraged by her sudden turn of mood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He took her to the market, where six or seven women surrounded her with cameras. He was pleased. \u201cNow you buy one,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut I don\u2019t want to,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow will you take photographs of President Palace?\u201d he said. \u201cHow will you show people back in your home the room where Papa-Doc hid like a baby lion from bullets?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWill you take me to where I want to go?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAfter you buy a camera.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Several 35millimeter cameras were shoved into her face. She imaged them belonging to tortured foreign journalists and she shuddered and pushed them all away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTake me,\u201d she told the driver. \u201cOr take me back to the Oloffson.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Someone offered to take her to the Hotel. \u201cFor less money,\u201d he said. Her driver grabbed her elbow and they were back in the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Helping Hearts were generous. They offered Carolyn a meal of rice and beans, which she accepted, and a place to stay, which she refused. \u201cI\u2019ll be at the Oloffson,\u201d she told them. \u201cIf Jackie returns, tell her I\u2019ll be waiting for her there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Oloffson\u2019s a wonderful place,\u201d they nodded. \u201cYou\u2019ll enjoy yourself there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn had first heard of the Hotel Oloffson in Graham Greene\u2019s novel, The Comedians<\/em>, which she had read in college. Before coming down, she had rented the movie \u2013 the one with Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor: it was awful. The power in the novel was the violence and strangeness of the political situation, the narrator\u2019s search for his own sense of right, which didn\u2019t translate to film, but once she there, she realized that the movie had obviously been filmed on location.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Hotel was charming and, judging from what she had seen of the city, completely out of place. The overbuilt white gingerbread house with the wrap- around veranda was perched above the city. The rooms and dinning veranda had a spectacular view of the bay and airport. The rooms were cool and always shaded, hidden behind the overgrown bougainvillea. The floors were sloped, the ceiling fans turned overhead and clicked away like soft background music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Present day seemed far away. Carolyn felt that she was somewhere else, in other era \u2014 1900 Malaysia, colonial Africa, the south of France. Like a junkie, she felt like she had been drugged into another dimension.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Haitian soccer team was scheduled to play the Dominican Republic and the cook wanted the night off. He and the owner fought on the veranda. The English-speaking maid translated and explained the problem as she swept Carolyn\u2019s room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho won?\u2019 Carolyn asked when their voices quieted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo dinner tonight,\u201d the maid explained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn went downstairs before it got dark. Night fell all at once in Haiti, and she found it hard to leave her room once the sun was gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The French guys were still sitting in the lobby. They had gotten bored with their card games. They offered Carolyn a glass of rum. She shook her nose at it. \u201cI\u2019d rather have a cold beer,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Puma lady scurried through the lobby. Her heels clicking like an accelerating train.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emile looked up. \u201cWhat is she doing all the time? What can she possibly be doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSomething illegal,\u201d Sebastian said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKilling animals? Sacrificing them? What?\u201d Emile went on. \u201cWhy is she always so damn busy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhatever she does, she does it fast,\u201d Jean-Francois commented. They were bored of each other and demanded that Carolyn join them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo word on your sister?\u201d they asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot a thing,\u201d Carolyn said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAll of us are stranded here,\u201d Jean Emile said. \u201cLost in this terrible country.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The French guys hated Haiti. They were miserable and blamed all their problems on the country. \u201cYou can\u2019t imagine a worse place than this. It\u2019s really the end of the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s awful. It\u2019s dirty and crowded and filthy and those are just some of the highlights.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn was entertained by their honesty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Frenchmen worked for Point du Vue<\/em>, a French news program. They were in Haiti to film an orphanage that helped French couples adopt Haitian children. The only problem was they couldn\u2019t find the orphanage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They had planned a five-day stay in Haiti, but the man who had promised to come to the Hotel never came. The manager of the hotel called them all Pierre. The Frenchmen had found it amusing at first, but the joke was wearing thin. They didn\u2019t want to leave the country without their film footage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They spent their days in the lobby of the Hotel waiting for someone to take them to the orphanage. They called France when the phone lines were working. They were instructed to take a cab to the orphanage, and when they explained to their director that this wasn\u2019t as easy as it sounds, he told them to ask someone at the French embassy for directions. \u201cSomeone there must know where the orphanage is.\u201d But no one did. They sat complaining about the country, afraid to venture outside the Hotel in case their contact person showed up. They thought Carolyn was brave, because she went to an art museum one day. It had been an awful trip, not to a museum as she had understood when she accepted the offer, but to an art warehouse. The man had pulled up to an enormous building. He unlocked the door, and had to search several minutes to find the light. There was a scurrying of movement when he finally flicked it on \u2013 geckos, mice, and other small creatures ran into the corners and disappeared from sight. Their droppings were still in view, and she turned to the man. \u201cI don\u2019t want to buy anything,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou haven\u2019t even looked,\u201d he said. \u201cGo slow. Go slow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There were thousands of brightly colored paintings stacked along the walls. The blues, reds, and greens showed scenes of what she supposed was typical Haitian life, but the depictions had nothing to do with anything she had seen so far.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She had to buy three before the man would let her go. She gave him cash, her head aching. She had never said the word \u201cno,\u201d so many times. The Frenchmen were impressed. \u201cAt least you\u2019ve seen some of this god-awful place,\u201d they said. \u201cThis is all we know of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The desk clerk at the Hotel Oloffson thought the Frenchmen were wasting their time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho would want to adopt Haitian children?\u201d he asked Carolyn. \u201cHaitian children are skinny and poor. They have terrible futures.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It turned out that there were Quaaludes in Haiti.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie showed up at the Hotel sometime after midnight. Stoned, but denying she was on anything. She was tired. She had been traveling all over the country looking for Carolyn. The soccer game at the Stadium had drained the city of electricity and the Hotel was in complete darkness. She didn\u2019t remember how she got there, but she was on foot, and when she came up the steps of the Hotel, the guard dogs went crazy. The noise woke everyone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie hugged Carolyn. She kissed her ear, licked her face. \u201cHere you are,\u201d she shouted. \u201cMy sister.\u201d She hugged Carolyn again. She cried and carried on. \u201cI love you,\u201d she said. She said it several times, until Carolyn wanted to slap her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Everyone came out of their rooms to see the reason for the commotion. A combination of flashlights, candles, and the Hippie\u2019s cigarettes filled the lobby with enough light for everyone to see how messed up Jackie was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn dragged her upstairs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan we get a drink?\u201d Jackie asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think these rooms have mini-bars,\u201d Carolyn said. She lit a candle and set it on the edge of the nightstand so Jackie wouldn\u2019t bump into it and set everything on fire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie had her own supply, a flask of rum or something. She found it in the dim light of the room, but must have had a short supply as she did not offer any to Carolyn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t believe you\u2019re here,\u201d Jackie said. She smacked her lips, an awful noise that made her sound like an old woman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey called Mom,\u201d Carolyn said. \u201cThat group you were working for. They were worried about you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI love Mom,\u201d Jackie said. \u201cI really do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou have a funny way of showing it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the way I love her. I do love her, but not in the way she wants me to love her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think she has any agenda,\u201d Carolyn said. \u201cI think she just wants you safe.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It didn\u2019t matter what she said. Jackie was too messed up to listen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She had things she wanted to tell Carolyn. \u201cYou know I love you too,\u201d Jackie slurred.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad,\u201d Carolyn said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you remember that time we went to the movies?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t,\u201d Carolyn said. \u201cIt\u2019s late. Let\u2019s go to bed and talk about this in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou drove,\u201d Jackie said. \u201cAnd I put the popcorn box on the windshield wipers and the popcorn went flying all over the place like snow?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie had three or four childhood memories, which she brought up over and over again as if these were the only things they had ever done together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWasn\u2019t that fun?\u201d Jackie asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t remember it,\u201d Carolyn said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie cried. \u201cDon\u2019t be mean,\u201d she told Carolyn. \u201cI love you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie slept like the dead for ten hours without moving. Carolyn worried that she had suffocated or died of too many strange substances. She slept until late the next afternoon, ignoring the heat and stuffiness of the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When she woke, she turned several times. She stared at Carolyn in complete surprise. \u201cYou,\u201d she whispered and Carolyn realized that she did not have a clear recollection of her arrival.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She got up slowly and asked Carolyn if there was any coffee anywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDownstairs,\u201d Carolyn said. \u201cYou\u2019ve missed breakfast. And lunch. But maybe I can get the cook to make you something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie waved her away. \u201cI\u2019ll go,\u201d she said. She left without showering, without changing her clothes. She didn\u2019t even bother to look at herself in the mirror.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Carolyn finally went downstairs, she found Jackie sitting at the Hippie\u2019s table. The drink in front of her was not coffee. She was smoking his cigarettes. Their conversation was animated. Carolyn did not have to hear it to know that it was nonsense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn told Jackie she was going for a walk. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you come?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m good here,\u201d Jackie said. Two days later, Jackie resurfaced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie and the Hippie were in love. \u201cHow can that be?\u201d Carolyn asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t like talking to you about the men in my life,\u201d Jackie said. \u201cI would, but we don\u2019t share the same world view.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want you to talk about the men. Just about your life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Spinach, it turned out, was one of Jackie\u2019s favorite foods. They had made plans to travel to Cap Haitien. That\u2019s where they were going to start their farm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGreat,\u201d Carolyn said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t really think that,\u201d Jackie said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course I don\u2019t,\u201d Carolyn said. Step Seven when rescuing Jackie; don\u2019t fight. If she doesn\u2019t want to go, she won\u2019t go. Think of a three-year old in a toy store. There could be tears and tantrums, but the result will still be the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m a Christian. He\u2019s a health worker, with a desire to see that the poor get food. What could be more noble than what he\u2019s trying to undertake?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTell me his name.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTell me you know his name and I\u2019ll leave.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll leave anyway. What are you going to do, live at the Hotel Oloffson for the rest of your life?\u201d Without drugs or alcohol, Jackie was not a nice person.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not a bad place. You\u2019d be surprised. Some interesting people come through here,\u201d Carolyn said. She was going to miss the French film crew, though she thought of them as a crew. When they returned to Paris, they would certainly split up. She was not sure she would be as fond of them as individuals.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie put on Carolyn\u2019s straw hat and admired herself in the mirror. The glass was smoky, but she must not have liked her reflection, because otherwise she would have asked Carolyn for the hat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFranklin,\u201d Jackie said and tossed the hat across the bed like a Frisbee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s his name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt could be,\u201d she said. \u201cWho cares? He\u2019s a nice man. He\u2019s got a generous heart.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut not a brain cell in his head.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlenty of stupid people do great things.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen you admit he\u2019s stupid?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI admit I don\u2019t know him that well.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd yet you\u2019re going to travel around Haiti with him?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what it looks like.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019ll slit your throat and take all your money.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere did he find my money? Tell me, because I don\u2019t have any. If he took it, I want to at least be a bit upset at the loss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a fool,\u201d Carolyn said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen let me be one,\u201d Jackie said. \u201cIt can\u2019t matter to you who I am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But it did. Carolyn couldn\u2019t help it. Jackie was her only sister. Why couldn\u2019t she be normal? Why couldn\u2019t she be less problematic and more normal? Had she had a slew of siblings, she was sure she wouldn\u2019t be in Haiti arguing like an idiot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not as bad as you think I am,\u201d Jackie said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe two of you won\u2019t last long,\u201d Carolyn told her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie raised her eyebrows. \u201cWhat\u2019s this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou and Mr. Rum-head. You won\u2019t last but a few days. You\u2019ll leave him or he\u2019ll leave you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStatistically speaking almost all couple break up at one time or another. I\u2019m not bragging. I don\u2019t think I\u2019m better than anyone else.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen why bother?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt gets me out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can get you out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll take me back to Pittsburgh,\u201d she said. \u201cI don\u2019t want to go back to Pittsburgh. I like it here. I\u2019m different here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re using a country for your own needs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m certainly not the first.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Last step in rescuing Jackie: Don\u2019t wear yourself out. If she doesn\u2019t want to go \u2013 there\u2019s nothing you can do to force it. You cannot help someone who doesn\u2019t want to be helped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn handed over her straw hat. \u201cTake it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie handed it back. \u201cIt looks better on you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t need where I\u2019m going,\u201d Carolyn said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie gathered her things. \u201cAll right, then. Thanks for coming down. I really did think it was the end for me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure you did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad to hear you had a good time here.\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t think I\u2019d come again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTell Mom,\u201d Jackie started, then stopped to think about what she would tell their mother. Her words, however sentimental or loving, would not convince Carolyn to give her money.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTell Mom that when she dies she should leave the house to me.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m sure she\u2019ll find that comforting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs she dying?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo Jackie. She\u2019s not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Hippie was gone. Despite Jackie\u2019s insistence that they were off to do good in the countryside, it was a surprise to see that he had actually been motivated. The place felt oddly empty without him there. The Hotel manager came out of his office with a stack of papers in his hand. Carolyn wanted to hide under the wicker chair. She knew what he was holding. Of course, it was how it always worked out – she was going to get stuck with the Hippie\u2019s hotel bill. She was certain he had left without paying. She could see the bill, all those bar charges, one rum punch after another until they added up to a sum she could not afford.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looked directly at her and she got up. The wicker stuck to her legs and she pulled away from it, feeling the pinch as it let for of her skin. \u201cI won\u2019t pay it,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Have you seen the Pierres?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She wasn\u2019t responsible for the men her sister picked up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Frenchmen, \u201c the manager said. \u201cTheir contact from the orphanage has arrived. Seems they got the dates mixed up. He\u2019s finally come to fetch them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn looked at him blankly. He hurried past and stopped the maid, who was halfway upstairs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cM\u2019ta vle pale ak lezom franse<\/em>.\u201d The woman nodded and a few minutes later, Carolyn heard her knocking on the Frenchmen\u2019s door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sebastian was down first. \u201cCan you believe it? Our luck has finally changed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emile had just showered. He finished dressing in the lobby. \u201cWhat a crazy country.\u201d They lugged out their film equipment from behind the desk, four or five neatly packed black bags. The driver stepped out of the Jeep and loaded the matching black bags into the back of his dusty Jeep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jean-Francois was last. He sneezed just as he hit the last step, the sound echoed in the cavernous archway and Carolyn felt tears come to her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sebastian noticed. \u201cYou\u2019ve got Francois\u2019s cold.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI do\u201d she lied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They did not know how long they would be gone. Her airplane ticket home was for the next day. She had no reason to stay in Haiti.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is good-bye then?\u201d Sebastian asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn hugged them both, but had to turn away because she was crying. \u201cI\u2019m so happy you don\u2019t have to go home without your film of the orphanage,\u201d she said. \u201cThat\u2019s great. I\u2019m so glad it\u2019s all worked out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood luck to you,\u201d they said. \u201cYour sister\u2019s here. Everything does work out for the best even in this Godforsaken country.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They did not know about Jackie and the American Hippie. And Carolyn was just as glad not to have to tell them about the new development.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGive us your address,\u201d Emile said. \u201cWe\u2019ll send you a copy of the show.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She pulled out her wallet for her business card. It should not have been a shock, but it was. Her wallet was empty. Dollars, credit cards, all gone. Even her driver\u2019s license. Jackie must have done it in a hurry; she took everything \u2013 her library card, her discount card at Blockbuster.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She went to the desk and wrote out her information on one of the Hotel\u2019s cards. Her tears were gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Their driver honked. A week late and now he was in a rush. The Frenchmen thought it was hysterical. They left in a hurry of good-byes, see you laters, and good lucks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The maid had just washed the floors and Carolyn walked slowly to her room. She dreaded the discovery, dreaded what she would or would not find.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She pulled out her backpack from under the bed and opened the side compartment, the one with the hidden zipper. It was empty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie had taken it all \u2013 the extra cash, the airplane ticket. Even her silver earrings, the ones she had bought at the flea market in Paris as an undergraduate traveling across Europe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jackie was a real thief. Quick, thorough, damaging.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn sat back on her heels, her head dizzy with what she would have to do next.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But then for the next several hours she did nothing. She sat on the veranda in the Hippie\u2019s chair, sipping warm Pepsi. She didn\u2019t really believe her sister would return, but there was always the chance. The click\u2013clack of the shoeshine boys on the streets pounded nearby. They came up the drive and called to her, until finally the security guard chased them away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Something wasn\u2019t right. It didn\u2019t make sense. Jackie was messed up, but she wasn\u2019t mean-spirited. She wouldn\u2019t have left Carolyn stranded. Carolyn went back up to her room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In her make-up bag was everything she thought Jackie had taken. The airplane ticket, the driver\u2019s license, even the silver earrings. Her sister had taken $300.00, but there was more than enough left to pay the hotel bill and to get home. The note was written in Carolyn\u2019s eye pencil. \u201cScared you, didn\u2019t I? Don\u2019t give up on me. I\u2019m never as bad as you and Mom think I am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My sister is a freak, Carolyn thought. Save her? You couldn\u2019t even catch her long enough to have a decent and sober conversation with her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn repacked her bag, putting all her valuables in the secret pocket. She zipped it up, then hid it under the bed. She was relieved, but not happy. The weight of a week in a strange country made her weepy. She forced herself to get up and do something. But there was nothing to do. She tidied the room once more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It would have been nice not to travel home alone. However strange Jackie was, Carolyn missed her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It took her three hours to pass through customs. The airport was even worse than when she had arrived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The guard stopped her at the door that lead to the tarmac. Carolyn couldn\u2019t understand why.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t want to get stuck here,\u201d the voice behind her spoke English.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was the Puma Lady and she was shoving Haitian gourdes<\/em> into the guard\u2019s hands. \u201cTake it,\u201d the woman commanded and the man nodded without any argument. \u201cFor the both of us,\u201d the Puma Lady said. \u201cTake it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn waited for the man to tell her it was okay, she could go on, when the puma lady pushed her forward. \u201cHurry,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s not like the States. Booked seats mean nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She pulled Carolyn by the arm and lead her through the next room, another mass of confusion. \u201cThis way,\u201d the woman said. \u201cI know a short-cut.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She dragged Carolyn across the tiled floors, pushed open a door that looked like it went to a storage room, but instead went out to the tarmac. The flight crew was there grouped around the doors smoking cigarettes and they nodded at the Puma Lady as if old friends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The plane was full \u2014 two hundred people fighting for seats and space in the overhead compartments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman was still pushing Carolyn forward and Carolyn, anxious to find room, didn\u2019t protest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They found two seats in the very last row. \u201cNightmare,\u201d the woman said. \u201cIt never fails.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The man on the aisle did not move. Carolyn climbed over his long legs to the window seat. Puma Lady sat in the middle. The pilot welcomed them on board, and asked the flight attendants to prepare the doors for take-off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat was as close as I\u2019ve come to missing my flight,\u201d the woman said to Carolyn. Up close, the woman looked even more like a cat. Her eyebrows were painted with black eyeliner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn was just about to ask for the woman\u2019s reason for being in Haiti, when the woman motioned across Carolyn\u2019s face to the window blind. \u201cWould you mind?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot at all,\u201d Carolyn said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m exhausted,\u201d the woman explained. \u201cI never sleep well in third world countries.\u201d She covered herself with one of the dark blue airplane blankets and positioned her head against the back of the chair. So much chatter down here. So much noise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carolyn saw no reason to answer. She pulled down the blind, closing off the ocean waters, the bald mountains \u2014 she barely glanced at her last view of Haiti.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A minute later, the plane taxied to the runway, and accelerated into take-off. They were airborne.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a9 Copyright 2016 Sharon Dilworth<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Sharon Dilworth is the author of two collections of short stories: The Long White<\/em> and Women Drinking Benedictine<\/em>, and a novel Year of Gingko<\/em>.  Her novel, Another Riviera<\/em> is forthcoming in 2017. She lives in Pittsburgh, PA where she is the director of the creative writing program at Carnegie Mellon University.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Read our author interview with Sharon Dilworth here<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By Sharon Dilworth “The Hotel was charming and, judging from what she had seen of the city, completely out of place. The overbuilt white gingerbread house with the wrap-around veranda was perched above the city. The rooms and dinning veranda had a spectacular view of the bay and airport. The rooms were cool and always …<\/p>\n

How to Stay in Haiti<\/span> Read More »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-968","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/968"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=968"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/968\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5204,"href":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/968\/revisions\/5204"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=968"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=968"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/87bedford.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=968"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}