Stone That the Builder Refused - Madison Smartt Bell [150]
At the grand’case of Habitation Thibodet the women and children and all the house were sleeping, except the doctor, who woke at first cock crow, though it was some other sound, he thought, that roused him. He listened for a moment but heard nothing but more of the little cocks calling up and down the coffee terraces and the jungle beyond. A cool breeze shivered the slats of the jalousies. The doctor leaned over and kissed the tendon of Nanon’s neck, just below her ear. Her mouth parted to breathe over her pillow; she sighed and curled a little tighter. He was tempted to remain, but his curiosity was stronger.
Bare-chested and barefoot, he shuffled out onto the gallery. A crew of charcoal sellers was just turning the corner of the house toward the kitchen in back; they grinned at him, teeth white in their sooty faces, but this was not what he had heard. His bare toes splaying in the dust, he walked down toward the cane mill and found Bazau and Gros-Jean, Tocquet’s oldest retainers, loyal to him since slavery time, strapping pack saddles to a couple of donkeys.
“S’ak pasé?” the doctor said. What’s happening?
“N’ap soti,” Bazau said and took the doctor’s hand in a soft loose grip. We’re going.
As Bazau released the doctor’s hand, Tocquet came out of the cane mill, carrying a canvas duster rolled up under one arm. He gave the doctor a brief nod, then lowered his head to the business of strapping the garment behind the saddle of his horse.
“They say you are leaving us,” the doctor said.
“Only to the border, or a little beyond,” Tocquet grunted. “There’s a market for tobacco in Gonaives, with all the people who’ve just come down from Le Cap without any—damn it!” He raised his head and stared at the piece of dry-rotted strap in his right hand.
Bazau jogged to the mill to find him another. But Tocquet moved away from his horse and walked with the doctor. They strolled to a stop above the lily pool.
“Oh,” said Tocquet. “It’s she herself who’s sending me away this time.”
“I have not reproached you,” the doctor said.
“You have not. But I know your mind.”
“With what word does she send you now?”
“No words.” Tocquet shook his head, running the rotten strap from one hand to the other. “Nor any action one could name. It is her manner.”
“That seems rather a slight cause, and at a time of such uncertainty.”
“I would have taken her and our daughters to some refuge on the Spanish side,” Tocquet said. “Your family also, certainly. Elise will have none of it. I don’t know why. There will be trouble here, and soon—do you not feel it closing in?”
“I only think that everything is all unsettled,” the doctor said. “I have no notion how it may resolve.”
“There was something between us when I returned,” Tocquet muttered.
“From the North American Republic?”
“Yes,” said Tocquet. “A barrier, a dam. I thought if I went off for a time, it might give way.”
“If absence was the cause of it,” the doctor said, “it seems strange to think it would be healed by absence.”
“Well, she is welcome to go with me!” Tocquet said. “But she will not. Nor will I force her. That is not my way.” Abruptly he turned toward the pack donkeys. “Bazau! Gros-Jean! W met lesé tonbé tout sa! N’ap reté isit jodi-a.” With no sign of surprise the two black men set about undoing the work they’d begun. You can let all that drop! We’ll be staying here today.
The doctor smiled and tapped the shoulder of the taller man. Never before had he seen Tocquet hesitate, but he was happy all the same that he would not follow through his morning’s plan.
“I don’t mean to stay in this