Love, Anger, Madness_ A Haitian Trilogy - Marie Chauvet [167]
CÉCILE: Father! Someone go to my mother. I beg you.
THE PRIEST: Doctor! These men have had nothing but clairin for eight days. Look at them. Ask that they be fed or else they’ll die from the beatings. Farewell, Cécile, I am going to your mother’s bedside.
THE DOCTOR (to me): What possessed you to get mixed up in a political matter? We help you out, we give you charity, we look after you, and this is how you thank us.
ME: ? …
THE DOCTOR: Do you want to eat something?
ME: ! …
CÉCILE: This one is sick, too! Oh, my God! Doctor, do something.
THE DOCTOR (to André, whose legs are wobbling): You want to eat something?
ANDRÉ: I’m hungry.
DOCTOR: Commandant! I have observed these men. They appear to be in such bad shape that I wouldn’t be surprised if they lost consciousness during questioning. Let’s feed them so that they’ll be able to talk.
M. POTENTAT: I must protest against such leniency. These people are despicable subversives.
UNSAVORY INDIVIDUAL (whom M. Potentat cannot shake off): I suggest the Commandant conduct a general search of all the houses on Grand-rue.
M. POTENTAT: Dr. Prémature is too soft on these traitors.
PATROL MEMBER Unconscious or not, I’ll loosen their tongues. I promise you that much.
THE COMMANDANT: Quiet, people! … It might be better to listen to the doctor’s advice. Otherwise, they’ll be useless.
PATROL MEMBER: Commandant Cravache, these men are political prisoners. They must be treated as such. If they lose consciousness during questioning, we have the means to revive them.
MARCIA (in tears): I want to go. I haven’t done anything. All I did was throw stones at the dead dog. I just kept an eye on the mulatto from a distance because he’s always talking to himself and gets all strange when he looks at our house. I even suspected that he wanted to climb the balcony to rob us at night. He was always watching the balcony out of the corner of his eye. I swear I’m telling the truth.
SIMON: Be quiet, bitch.
MARCIA: You won’t stop me from talking, you crazy old white man. Everybody here knows you’re crazy. And the dead one was crazy too. Everybody knows that.
CÉCILE: Quiet, Marcia!
PATROL MEMBER: All right, stop your sniveling!
MARCIA: Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.
THE DOCTOR: What is that stench?
PATROL MEMBER: A chamber pot.
THE COMMANDANT: You found nothing else?
PATROL MEMBER: Yes. Papers and a trunk full of all sorts of stuff.
THE COMMANDANT: Weapons?
PATROL MEMBER: NO, Commandant. Personal effects. Marassas dishes with syrup, dressed candles, bags. Let’s leave this stuff alone. This one’s dead, this one possessed, another lost his marbles, the fourth an idiot—all proof that these loas are dangerous.
THE COMMANDANT: Close the trunk! … You, the white guy, you don’t look so bad to me. Take care of the dead body, before I tickle your fat gut with my club.
SIMON (taking Jacques’ body in his arms): Don’t count on my gut, Commandant. It’s full of gas and alcohol and will explode in your face if you touch it.
CÉCILE: Don’t provoke them, I beg you.
SIMON (quietly to Cécile): Keeping quiet won’t prevent anything. Might as well insult them.
CÉCILE: No. I beg you. They’re terrifying.
THE COMMANDANT: Gather the evidence. No, no, leave the trunk where it is. Just bring the papers from the floor and the bottles. The curious crowd has reappeared, lingering near the front door, at a sufficiently respectable distance from the shack.
SOMEONE: We shouldn’t have come back. That was careless.
ANOTHER: NO. Look, they arrested the offenders and the witnesses.
ANOTHER: You never know with them. Once they start making arrests, they seem to go mad.
ANOTHER: Oh! A dead body! They killed someone. Look!
A LADY (sighing): Poor Cécile got dragged into a really nasty mess.
A YOUNG GIRL (to another): Do you really think she was plotting with them? I never would have thought Cécile capable of that.
MME FANFRELUCHE: