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Chapter 28 - Motherland

Little Haiti, Miami, Florida: mid-June

In mid-June, Wilson received an email message from his cousin Henri in Haiti. In it, Henri told Wilson that he had been contacted by the Haitian government about the elder Tamara, Nadine’s mother. Wilson decided to phone Henri instead of replying by email, and after a day of trying to connect, he was finally successful.

“Hey, Henri—what’s up? What did you hear about Nadine’s mom?”

“Bonswa, zanmi,” Henri replied. “You recall that the government had me as a contact for the Bernard family. As part of that funeral that we arranged, remember that I registered myself as Cassandra’s... ah, Nadine’s next of kin here.”

“Right. I made you the executor of her estate, such as it was, and to handle the sale of our property.”

“Oui. That was done. So, two days ago I was visited by someone from the Justice Ministry. This visit was about Vanessa. Now that she’s dead, and because of her crimes, the government has seized her property—no will was found and she has no heirs. So the government is now trying to locate people who were affected by her murders and enslavement, to make restitution. Apparently she left records that name the people who she enslaved or murdered. One of those murdered people turns out to be Cas... oh, I can’t get used to that... Nadine’s manman, Tamara.”

“Oh, shit. So she did really murder her.”

“Effectively, yes. The ministry guy said that one of Vanessa’s chochés told the investigators that there had been some magic—or whatever it is that they do—battles leading up to a battle royal, between Vanessa and Tamara. Vanessa had been holding Tamara captive and was trying to force her to join her anti-government group. The choché said that Vanessa was trying to beat Tamara’s will down but apparently Tamara was really strong. The choché told the investigators that, at that final battle, Tamara seemed to be the stronger of the two, because suddenly Vanessa collapsed—somehow Tamara caused her to have something like a heart attack. Her bodyguard rushed her to the hospital and she had to have a pacemaker. But Vanessa really hurt Tamara too. After the battle, the choché said that Tamara was very weak and died about two weeks later. Vanessa never got her any medical care.”

“Damn, what a story. So one of the junior chochés saw all that.”

“Oui. Also, they found some property at Vanessa’s compound which they identified as having been Tamara’s. And the government got a court ruling saying that survivors of those who Vanessa had murdered will get compensation from Vanessa’s estate. I held the guy off; told him I knew that you, at least, were alive. He said that as Tamara’s Haitian son-in-law, you would be eligible for the compensation.”

“Henri, you have well-and-truly blown my mind. I suppose I should come?”

“For sure.”

“The FBI here says that my family can come out of hiding now. What’s your feeling about our safety from what you see there, politically?”

“Cas... modi... I mean Nadine. She’s remembered fondly here, not only locally. Word got out that she resisted Vanessa. I don’t think she’d be in any danger.”

Wilson told him that he’d arrange to travel to Haiti as soon as possible.

When Nadine returned with Tamara, they both had been shopping for college clothes for Tamara, Wilson filled them in.

“Oh, mon dieu!” Nadine exclaimed when she heard the news.

Tamara just nodded.

Nadine looked at her. “You knew?” Tamara nodded again. “You didn’t tell me...”

“Manman, I told you before that I didn’t want to look at those memories. Somehow, Granmanman planted them in my head so that I would have to ‘ask’ that I see them. I didn’t want to yet. But just now, Papa’s news brought out that one memory. Granmanman had a wicked battle with Vanessa, but Vanessa was starving her. Granmanman was saving all of her energies for the fight she knew was coming—and she almost won. But it took its toll, as Papa said. Manman, she must have been an awesome person!” Tamara said, tears streaking her face. “There are many more memories in there too but I can’t face them yet.”

Nadine hugged her daughter. “That’s okay, chérie. I won’t push you into unlocking them.”

The family made plans for a Haiti trip; both parents had to arrange to get time off their jobs. The soonest they were both able to get time off was in the beginning of August; Henri assured them that the six-week delay would not be a problem.

Early July

Tamara spent the first part of the summer finishing up her work at the medical school MRI lab. Leaving the lab and the people she had become close to, especially Dr Beauford and Tim Saunders, was going to be particularly painful for her. But they both assured her that this was a step in maturing her as a scientist, because leaving close colleagues was something that frequently happened as people’s careers advanced. Much of her time at the lab was spent in working on the two articles that she and Beauford were preparing for submission to the medical journal he had selected.

She also went out on occasional dates with Jerome during the summer; some dates were solo and some were doubles with Linda and Carlos. Tamara felt that there was no chemistry between herself and Jerome and besides, all four teens were mentally gearing up for college and that planning was consuming all of their mental energies.

Several dates were visits to the beach but Tamara and Linda had vetoed any thought of going to Haulover Beach—even the clothed section. Carlos agreed with the girls.

Then August arrived and with it came the Alexandres’ trip to Haiti.

Port-au-Prince, Haiti: beginning of August

Their arrival in Haiti started off with a bang—the family used their diplomatic passports at the airport and that attracted the attention of the supervising officials. The commotion increased when Wilson showed his Haitian passport—issued in the Bernard name—and then declared that the whole family had dual citizenship and had changed their names because of the Vanessa threat. Suddenly the family became heroes.

“Now that Vanessa’s gone, I came back to Haiti to close out my family’s affairs here,” he told the supervisor. “We’ll be staying with my cousin in Lafiteau. That’s where I worked when I lived here.”

“Well, we’re delighted to welcome you back to Haiti and hope that your stay is productive,” the supervisor responded.

When they left the customs area, Wilson saw Henri and Julienne waiting.

Everyone greeted each other warmly, and Wilson told them, “Jeez, they really gave us the third degree at customs. Wonder if it was the diplomatic passports.”

“Possibly,” Henri said. “I think the officials get nervous when unexpected diplomats arrive.”

The family visited with Henri’s for a day, and the following day, Nadine and Wilson went to Aubry, to the community center there. Henri had spread the word among Nadine’s followers that she had been misidentified as having died; she somehow had survived the earthquake and would be visiting the community center to meet with her former congregation members.

It was a tearful reunion for all of Nadine’s former congregation members and Nadine had to explain how she and Tamara had been injured in the ‘quake and had gotten help to get to Port-au-Prince and had been airlifted for medical care. The family had fabricated the story that Wilson thought the people in the rubble near his home were his wife and daughter and, distraught and having been injured himself, was able to get to Miami too, where immigration officials had realized they were a family and gotten them together. They had their names changed when they heard that Vanessa was trying to locate Nadine.

Several days later, the intervening days filled with visiting their friends, the Alexandres met with a Justice Ministry official at Vanessa’s compound. He led them to a building behind the main house. When they walked in, Tamara stiffened.

“Oh, hell,” she whispered. “This place still reeks of evil.”

The official pointed to an open door. “They had cages in that room. Vanessa kept prisoners here.”

Tamara walked down a hall to a closed door.

“She was a prisoner in here, Manman,” she told Nadine. “I can feel some power left even now.”

The official looked frightened. “You can feel power?” he asked. “From a deceased person?”

Tamara realized that he was superstitious. “It’s not a big deal. Not a zonbi. You know how you can sometimes smell someone’s scent even long after they left a room?”

He nodded uncertainly.

“So, like the body gives off its scent, it also gives off something like electrical signals—they use a brain machine, an EEG, to detect them, right?”

He nodded again.

“Some sensitive people can feel those signals. Like me. Okay?”

He grimaced. “I suppose. Okay, Mrs Alexandre. They asked me to show you this place.” He shuddered. “Let’s go to the main house now.”

“One second, I need to look,” Tamara said and opened the door.

It was a bare room, with bars on the single window. A small mattress lay on the floor in one corner.

Tamara shivered. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go,” she told them.

When they entered the main house, the official led them to a room which appeared to be set up like a sitting room, but it was also filled with religious artefacts.

“The records Vanessa kept showed that she collected many artefacts. Her records show that she removed many possessions from your mother’s home too,” the man said. “She also had a journal. It was like a diary, but she wrote her plans in it; records of her activities, and there were lists of people she had influenced in it, too.”

Nadine was looking around the room as the man spoke.

“Mezanmi!” Nadine exclaimed. “Manman’s drums! They’re here! That miserable bòkò—choché, she stole them.”

Nadine walked around the room and identified a number of other items that had been her mother’s. The official looked at his clipboard and nodded.

“Yes, the record agrees. Vanessa’s notes show that those were your mother’s,” he concurred. “We will have to arrange a formal hearing to transfer the ownership of those artifacts to you. We also have prepared an extract of Vanessa’s journal, which I am sure you’ll want to read. We only redacted items of a sensitive personal and political nature.”

“I would like that very much.”

“I have been told that she died in your presence,” the official went on. “And it was by your capture of one of her ... ah ... agents, that her ambitions were exposed.”

“That is true.”

“In that case, our government owes very much to you, Mrs Alexandre.”

“I’m just thankful that we were able to foil her plans,” Nadine said softly. “It didn’t bring Manman back though. Is there any record of the location of her grave?”

“Unfortunately, no. That woman was responsible for dozens of deaths and the government hasn’t been able to locate any of the remains. None of the people who still resided here after we received word of Vanessa’s demise knew anything about the disposition of her victims.”

“Ah. I had hoped...” Nadine said, dejectedly.

“I am very sorry. It is unfortunate that we cannot help further with those issues, but we can help with the disposition of assets. Now to the real estate. Before Vanessa acquired this property, it used to be a small hotel. We had it appraised at 262 million gourdes; that’s about $1.8 million U.S. Vanessa’s other assets and seized bank balances are another 207 million gourdes. We haven’t finished valuing personal property like vehicles and such, but we expect that amount to be negligible in comparison. You would be eligible for part of her estate as compensatory damages, especially since you provided proof that you had to flee Haiti to escape her.”

“Thank you,” Wilson told the official. “Do we have to remain in Haiti or return for any hearings?”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary. You have jobs in the U.S. you must return to, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Nadine said.

“I will get your contact information, then. And I will have your mother’s possessions released to you, Mrs Alexandre, just as soon as we schedule a hearing—it’s just a judge’s release, actually, and should happen within the week. You will be responsible for the crating and shipping of your possessions. I have a copy of the redacted journal in my briefcase. Please come to my vehicle and I’ll give it to you.”

The Alexandres left Vanessa’s former compound in a state of shock. Later, when the family was alone, Nadine heaved a great sigh before she began to speak.

“My thoughts are in a turmoil. I thought with Vanessa’s death I’d have closure for my Haiti life, but learning about what happened to Manman is reopening old wounds. It’ll be wonderful having the ritual items that I remember Manman using—especially those wonderful drums. They came from Africa. Their workmanship is exquisite, did you see?” The others nodded. “I can recall their sound too; it was wonderful... oh... we can fix up the ounfò properly now. Can we wait to read that journal until tomorrow? I can’t face that just yet.”

“Sure, darling,” Wilson said and Tamara nodded.

“I still could feel whispers of Granmanman’s spirit in that room,” Tamara said. “Not her actual spirit, but its impression on the room itself... like I told the guy. There was no emotion, like anger or fear or anything. Just a whisper of something like I felt when she was with me when she... um... you know, ended Vanessa. She must have had awesome powers, Manman.”

They hugged each other and Nadine said, “She was a very gentle, loving person. Many people sought her counseling. She taught me much, but also wanted me to have a regular education and sent me to university in Puerto Rico.”

“I guess I never asked you. What did you major in?”

“Social anthropology—the study of cultures. I took a master’s degree and was close to a doctorate when Manman disappeared.”

“Oh my... no wonder you’re so smart, Mom. That’s so awesome.”

“We’ll look at that journal tomorrow,” Nadine told them. “I’ll steel myself to do it—we need to do it while we’re in Haiti.”

The next day, they visited with Henri’s family again, and Julianna took them to a few folk markets in Port-au-Prince.

“Who knows, you might find something for your ounfò. You can also get some real ginger tea there—the kind you like,” she told Nadine.

In the evening, Nadine told Tamara and Wilson, “I’m ready to face reading about Manman now.”

Wilson picked up the copy of the journal and gave it to Nadine.

“This starts, oh, not important. She writes things about wanting to overthrow the government and set up a figurehead king... ah, also about teaching some manbos she’s recruited to do some evil things... ah. Here, it starts.

“The foundation of my plan is to gather a number of manbo adepts, women who have the ability to influence others’ thoughts and actions. I have collected the names of a number of manbo recruit possibilities and will need to visit them to see how powerful they are and to convince them to join in my plan.”

“One of the names on her list here is Tamara David, my manman,” Nadine said. “The other names are blacked out. Ahhh... There’s some more writing, doesn’t apply... ah. Here.

“I located several women this week but did not approach any directly. Only one of them was a possibility; she appeared to have strong skills. I will need to meet with her. I should be able to influence her if I get close enough to touch her.

“Then a bit later, it says:

“I met with Manbo Tamara David. She’s one of the most powerful manbos I have ever encountered. Almost as powerful as me. I spoke to her about her congregation but whenever I tried to touch her, I found that I couldn’t do it. I’ve never had that happen before. I will have to see her again.”

“Oooh, Manman,” Tamara breathed. “It looks like Granmanman was doing something to hold Vanessa away.”

“Yes, it does, chérie. Let me read more. Okay, here:

“Another visit to David. This time I told her that I wanted her to join my opposition and she refused. I threatened her but she laughed it off. I tried to use my compelling voice but it had no effect. When I reached out to touch her, it seemed like a gray cloud came between us. Then I recall nothing until after I returned to my compound. I must get this woman to join me, even if I need to forcibly take her and bend her to my will.”

Tamara was listening in awe. “It’s her colored auras, Manman. See, she was using them like when I ‘push.’ You see? She could do that too.”

“You’re right, chérie. Let me read further. Vanessa writes that she had her bodyguards sneak into Manman’s house while she was asleep and disabled her. It doesn’t say how.

“I have David locked up now, and she’s restrained. I’ve tried several times to break her resistance but she’s very strong. I even tried to see if I can find any of her relatives. Does she have children? Husband? I can write this, but I now see that whenever I try to act on the thought, I forget. My thoughts become confused. I must find out how she does that.”

“Mezanmi!” she exclaimed. “I had no idea that Manman could do such things.”

Tamara just shrugged. “I told you, remember?”

“Yes, you did. Let me read more.

“I cannot understand how she does this. I find that I’m unable to act whenever I try to tell someone to look into David’s background. I can’t write out instructions. I can write about it in here, but if I try to take my journal out of here for someone to read, I forget what I’m doing. I must learn more about this ability; it would be a key to overthrowing the government.”

Nadine pointed to an entry. “I’m looking at the date of this part. It’s when I was in university in Puerto Rico and that’s when Manman disappeared. She protected me from Vanessa and now I see how. I wondered why Vanessa never connected me with Manman.”

“It sounds like she was really impressive,” Wilson said. “I can see how our Tamara has followed in developing her own abilities. She’s very similar to her grandmother.”

Nadine nodded. “This is so hard, reading the words written by that awful choché. Listen to this. Vanessa writes that when she tries to force Manman, she feels colors come into her and she isn’t able to avoid them. Some of the colors hurt her, she writes. And she tried having one or two of her disciples join their strength, but that didn’t work either. We’re almost at the end of the part of the journal they gave us.

“I cannot break this woman down. The last possibility I can think of is to make her weak. I shall starve her. If she’s weak in body, she’ll be weak in spirit too.”

“What a vile creature,” Wilson growled.

“Her last two entries now,” Nadine said.

“She is very weak, my chief disciple tells me. It is time. I will take Helene with me. I do not want to take chances.”

“I assume Helene is the chief disciple,” Wilson observed.

Nadine nodded. “The last entry is about two weeks later.

“I am home now. She is dead. I am not sorry for her but for me, for my loss of such a powerful possible ally. After the last encounter and while I was still in hospital, Helene reported to me that David was very ill and failing. I ordered that she be given no aid. That femèl chen caused me a heart problem. Doctor said that it was caused by extreme emotional shock. I now need implanted gadget to regulate heart. Modi. I must continue the search for another strong manbo. I can sense that there are still ones to be found.

“And the excerpt ends,” Nadine said. “There’s a note at the end saying that the rest of her journal isn’t narrative. It’s just lists of people, records of her employees, properties, and government people who she recruited for her takeover attempt.”

“Ah. So nothing about her search for you—that kind of info.”

Nadine shook her head. “Not in here. Maybe she did write something, and maybe it had political material they wanted to keep secret.”

“Right,” Wilson said. “That could be.”

Nadine looked at Tamara. “When we were in that little prison building, you told the guy that you could sense something of Manman’s spirit in that room,” she said.

“Yeah. Very faint. If Granmanman hadn’t been part of me that day, I never would have noticed.”

“How does that work?” Wilson wondered.

“I’m not sure,” Tamara told him. “She must have spent a long time in that room. There was a bare mattress in there and it must have retained her scent, I suppose. I believe that I’m sensitive to some kinds of scents—pheromones most likely. Maybe that was how I could sense her. Like I told that guy, some people can sense smells long after someone left an area. Also, tracking dogs or drug-sniffing dogs can pick up very faint scents—better than any portable equipment can, I think.

“Beauford’s told me about neuroreceptors and how sensitive they are, especially the ones in the brain. They can fire the nerve cell if just a single molecule binds to the receptor. I learned that the olfactory nerves are virtually part of the brain itself; the nerve fibers from the olfactory tract of the brain pass through a spongy area of bone at the top of the nasal cavity—most of the olfactory nerve fibers are only about an inch or less long and are directly connected to that part of the brain.

“The other thing is that the olfactory tract is really ancient in animal evolution—it’s many millions of years old. The olfactory system is part of the brain’s limbic system; that’s the part of the brain that controls emotion and memory. And remember that I sense emotions as if they are tastes. Tastes and smells are very close in perception. We already know that lots of people can unconsciously tell if someone is scared because they can sense a pheromone or something in their sweat. Lots of living things communicate by scent—even fish and plants—so why not humans? So maybe—it’s a possibility—the brain’s emotional system generates and receives something like pheromones, and I’m sensitive to that? And that’s what I’m tasting—or smelling? This is why I’m so interested in brain research and I think that the MRI is an important tool for that.”

“I do recall the conversation we had with Beauford when he told us about that kid who confessed to being a sexual predator,” Wilson told her. “He did say that parts of the brain aren’t fully understood.”

“They aren’t,” Tamara agreed. “Now I have two areas to research. The first was the electrical fields that the body produces and if there is any structure in the brain that can detect those fields. Now the second one is... chemical? Sure, pheromones are chemicals... I need to read more about that.”

Mom and Dad looked at each other. Then Wilson winked. “Honey, just give her a book. Then we’ll see her surface in a month or two.”

They both laughed.

~~~~

The Alexandres left Henri in charge of getting Nadine’s artefacts in Vanessa’s compound packed for shipment to Miami. In addition to the legal release of her goods, Nadine had also gotten a Haitian government release for the export of the items, saying that they were personal possessions associated with her clergy status, in case U.S. Customs would want to block their import or seek to apply a duty charge. Wilson stopped at a Haitian bank and arranged for the international transfer of the payment from Vanessa’s estate from the government. When those funds were released and deposited with the bank, they would be automatically be transferred to the Alexandres’ Miami bank account.

The following day, after a round of farewells to all of their friends and Henri’s family, the Alexandres prepared to leave Haiti to return home.

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