Love, Anger, Madness_ A Haitian Trilogy - Marie Chauvet [101]
“You are my father, my lover, and my friend at the same time,” she had once said to Louis Normil. “That is a lot to discover in a single man.”
Once they were in bed, having had their fill of love, he tried in vain to bring up the topic of money. Finally giving up hope, he used a back door.
“Have you learned what happened to us?”
“No. What do you mean?”
“Some men in uniform have set up camp on our land.”
She gave a start as if stung.
“When? Why? What have you done or said to make this come upon you? Your children? Who have they been seeing? That kind of curse doesn’t just fall from the sky out of nowhere …”
He had the painful feeling that she was more frightened than saddened by their misfortune. She lit a cigarette with trembling hands.
“Have you taken any steps? Do you know anyone powerful enough to help you?” she added with forced calm.
“Yes, a lawyer. He has demanded five hundred dollars and I don’t have it.”
“Why didn’t you just say so, darling!” she said with relief. “Wait.”
She opened the armoire, grabbed a wad of bills that she put in an envelope.
“I would love to slip in a love note but you’re liable to leave it lying around.”
“I’ll pay you back, Maud.”
“But of course.”
He didn’t like her overly conciliatory tone, agreeing with him before he even said anything. And then the fear he had aroused in her upset him. Would she, like everyone else, fear being seen with him? This distracted him, and he forgot that he had promised himself to make her sign a receipt. He got up and got dressed. She stayed in bed, smoking, eyes half-closed, silent and suddenly so distant that he understood that his news had just destroyed the smooth course of their affair. He had dressed too quickly and only realized his tactlessness when he was done.
“You’re leaving … already?”
It seemed to him that there was a slight involuntary irony in her question.
“I’ll stay as long as you wish.”
He was too troubled. Despite himself, he was already thinking of the drama in store for tomorrow. He could see Rose going to the lawyer’s office, see her trembling before the short man with the gorilla hands who would be there, no doubt about it, and he decided right then to bring the money himself to the attorney.
“Would you like a ride home?”
He glanced at his watch and leaned in to kiss her.
“Would you please,” he replied.
The minute he had opened his mouth to talk about his problems, the evening had been ruined. Suddenly he had discovered that she too was afraid. She too was contaminated. This despite her wealth, despite the self-appointed isolation in which she lived and its assurance of some kind of protection. Perhaps he had only taken refuge in this affair to feel stronger! he realized to his surprise. Until now he had thought that she at least could allow herself to live with contempt for the permanent threat that had been hanging over all their heads like a curse for some time now. A threat made manifest in all the obvious signs that he had refused to interpret in order to preserve his peace of mind and that false congeniality into which he had withdrawn once and for all. One recollection he thought long dead suddenly arose in his memory. About six years ago, he was going home after stopping by the home of a colleague when the noise of gunfire interrupted his stroll. He hid under the porch of a house and waited there trembling for a long while. Then, without any hesitation, he walked over the dead body of a man lying in the street and ran home with his head down. The next day, he read in the newspaper an article about the accidental death of an unfortunate father of blessed memory. How many along with him had witnessed this murder? How many had been careful to keep silent? Just like him. Right after that, there was Maud to comfort him and help him forget. But she had just disappointed him, and he felt as if he had been rejected from her life. Her reactions had not been those of a woman in love. And he was struck by an inadvertent