Chapter Thirteen
The airport loudspeakers had informed arriving passengers that the temperature outside was about 85°, but neither Brian nor Andrea expected the wall of humidity to reach out and envelope them as it did. “Brian, did you notice that strange scent in the air?’
“No, I can’t say that I did. By the way, do you think that we should develop a story in case anyone should ask us what we are doing here? I mean, what explanation do we offer, should the subject come up?” Brian began to whisper. They moved toward the customs agent.
“I guess I hadn’t thought about that. Why couldn’t we just say that we are looking for our friends?” Andrea looked at the people milling around them. The airport, not a large one by American standards, had a couple of planes on the tarmac with people disembarking to enter the building for inspection by customs officials.
“I’m just thinking that maybe we don’t want to give away our reason for being here until we’re sure who we can trust and who we have to be careful with,” Brian went on. “After all, if what Max said in his note is true, then we are dealing with some pretty dangerous people. If what they are doing is illegal, and most likely it is, then they won’t take kindly to someone snooping around.”
The customs agent finally waved Andrea over. “Mam’selle, please to open your suitcase,” he asked in a halting French dialect. Andrea complied and then it was Brian’s turn. They walked toward the entrance.
“Brian, I read in one of the brochures that the travel agent gave me that there are two official languages spoken here; French for the educated people and Creole for the illiterate. And…snobbery exists between the two classes. The upper and middle class consider themselves better than the people who don’t speak French. Creole isn’t taught but somehow the language seems to perpetuate itself.”
“Do they also speak Engl…” Brian noticed someone watching them. “Do you see that man near the water fountain?” He opened the door to the exit.
“No, what about him?” She swiveled her head around. “I don’t see anyone.”
“I guess he left. His face seemed familiar to me but I can’t remember where I’ve seen him before or even if I have. “ Brian began to feel a little paranoid. “I’m just a little jumpy.”
The sunshine was hot and very bright as they moved toward a large van marked Al-B-Oloffson Hotel. People spoke in rapid French all around them. “There, can you smell that?” Andrea hastened. “There’s our ride. Let’s go.”
Stowing their bags in the back, Brian took a deep breath. “The air just smells so different than at home.”
“Look, Brian. There are flowers everywhere.” Andrea gripped the arm rest as she gazed out the window. Their driver ignored the pedestrians as they jumped out of his way. “I never expected to see so many people here. I guess I thought…”
“I know…you’d think that so small an island would only house a small population but…it’s almost crowded.”
“From the look of some of them they probably have never been anywhere else.” Poverty was evident not only in the well-worn clothes that some wore but also in the rundown condition of many of the buildings they passed. “Their clothes are certainly colorful. But look, there are also men dressed in suits.” Passing an open air market, they heard people bartering over animals being sold.
“Oh Brian, look. Isn’t this just the most picturesque building you’ve ever seen?” The hotel looked like it could have been built in the last century. A long wrap-around veranda or deck was accessed by a wide flight of stairs with handrails on both sides.
“I can’t wait to sit out here and watch the sights and sounds of this city.” Brian looked toward the people sitting on wicker chairs all along the deck, relaxing under the shaded awning.
“Maybe they have a siesta time during the hottest part of the day.” Although it was mid afternoon, the heat was tolerable and then just as Andrea entered the hotel, she felt a breeze. “Oooh, did you feel that. We must be close to the ocean.”
The clerk or concierge behind the desk greeted them with a strong French accent. “Bonjour, Monsieur et Madame.” They gave him their names and he handed them each a room key. Two small boys worked hard to take their luggage toward an antiquated elevator. The couple silently walked behind the boys down the narrow hallway to their rooms, located on the second floor.
“I’ll give you a half hour to get settled in, and then we can go get something to eat. I don’t know about you but I’m starved. I can’t wait to go sight-seeing.” Brian sounded almost excited. His room was located a couple of doors from Andrea’s.
“See you later,” she called after him and then entered another world again. Her rather large room was decorated in a quaint manor reflective of plantation owners and mint juleps. Its grandeur was displayed in the small settee that was located off to one side. Andrea stepped through the French doors onto a small balcony with a view of the ocean in the near distance. She took a deep breath of salt air.
She returned to the room to run her hand over the large bed. Colorful pillows adorned the white coverlet. A dressing area with a tiny closet led into a small but functional restroom. Excitement warred with dread inside her. Andrea liked to travel but the circumstances weren’t what she would have chosen for this trip.
Unpacking as quickly as she could, Andrea stepped onto the balcony once more. Just as she was beginning to get her bearings, a knock sounded on her door. “Come in, Brian. How do you like your room?” Brian stepped inside the door. “You sure seem in a hurry to see the sights.”
“It’s my stomach that’s in a hurry. It hasn’t stopped gurgling since we arrived.” They took the elevator down to the lobby. As they stepped onto the veranda, they could hear car horns loudly discouraging people from walking in the street. The horns were ignored by pedestrians with shaking fists and unusual epitaphs.
“There’s a restaurant. Let’s go.” Brian led the way.
Soon they were seated at a corner table. They looked around. “This place seems to have been built about the same time as the hotel.” Andrea noticed the vintage grandeur and the faded wallpaper everywhere. “Let’s try some authentic pastries.” Andrea couldn’t wait to immerse herself in the culture.
“You can try all the pastries you want, but I need something more substantial. This meat pie thing sounds interesting.” Brian continued to peruse the menu. “They have a pretty good selection of French food.”
“French would be fine and in fact, probably better than Creole since that cuisine would be more peppery.” Andrea’s mouth began to water as she read over the different selections and their descriptions.
Once the waiter brought their selections, they ate quickly. “M-m-m.” Andrea’s voice hummed with satisfaction.
“Me too.” Brian stuffed another piece of the meat pie into his mouth. “This is great.” Wiping the remains of their hurried meal from their faces, they paid the bill and strolled toward the door
“Let’s walk some of that rich food off,” Brian suggested. “We might as well get our bearings before we start hunting for the Michners.”
“Boy, until you mentioned Trent and Diane, I had almost forgotten why we were here. You’re right, we need to get the lay of the land so we can better decide which direction to go.” Andrea pulled out a travel guide from her purse and their foray into Haitian culture began in the direction of the port.
“I love all those quaint shops. I wish I had more time to explore them.” There were lots of native stores that allowed visitors to experience some of the local arts and crafts, but there were also shops catering to the rich and famous, or so it seemed to Andrea as she noticed the prices of window merchandise.
Brian chuckled. “Just like…”
“Ne-ver mind.” She made a face at him. “I suppose this city hasn’t changed a lot in the last 50 years. I read in the guide that a section just east of our hotel was rebuilt for their bicentennial in 1949 but not much has been done since. That’s where the American Emba
ssy is as well.” The crowds never seemed to thin out as they continued to walk east of the port through the business section of this highly populated city. People continued to battle for road space with automobiles and drivers who never ceased to honk their horns as loud as they could.
“Let’s go to that Welcome Center.” Brian steered Andrea in that direction. There they selected a number of brochures describing various areas of interest to them both.
“People come to dis place all the time to scuba-dive,” the man behind the desk stated. “Are you divers as well, peut-etre…er…maybe?”
“Not yet, but we want some lessons.” Brian noticed Andrea’s look of surprise. “Well it’s something I’ve always wanted to do so…”
“Yeah, I guess so…while we’re here anyway, but…” Andrea frowned at the thought of relying on a scuba tank to breathe.
The helpful volunteer behind the counter continued. “There are several excursion companies located just quinze. . . huh…fifteen minutes from here by l’auto.” He was clearly more comfortable speaking in French as he lapsed into the French term for car. “Do you have a vehicle, monsieur?”
“No, can you tell us where we can rent one?”
“But not a car, monsieur. You need a four-wheel drive to get to most places on this island. Those you can get at Jean-Pierre’s, just around the corner.” The clerk was most helpful.
“Thank you, monsieur. “ Andrea tried out the little French she was familiar with.
“About that excursion company… where can we find one that will teach us how to scuba-dive?” Brian leaned on the desk while Andrea moved toward the door.
“As I said before, dere are several just a few miles west of the water front along the coastal road. It is rough to ride on that road but with a four-wheel drive, it is easy, non? Au re’voir, mam’selle et monsieur. Have a good time in our country.” The clerk waved to them as they made their exit and proceeded around the corner where Jean-Pierre’s Rental Service was clearly visible.
“We need a four-wheel drive and want it for an indefinite length of time,” Brian began. “Can you supply us with one?”
“We also need to rent some scuba equipment, since we plan to learn while we are here,” Andrea added.
This time Brian yanked on Andrea’s sleeve to pull her away from the prying ears of the rental agent. “I thought you weren’t all that keen about diving. I’m already certified, but I’ve only had about 3 dives since then.”
“I thought about this and since our cover is tourist…this is what tourists do here. Learn to scuba-dive. Besides the skill may come in handy someday, who knows?” Andrea nodded towards the rental agent.
“While you get some lessons then, I’ll stick to boating.” Brian whispered. “That way I can get the lay of the land, if you will, over the water.”
“Oh, why not join me. A refresher can’t hurt. Besides this was your idea. “ Andrea was adamant. She led the way toward the agent.
Brian handed him a fifty dollar bill. “This should cover the deposit for the vehicle.” He followed the man to the back of the building where the parking lot was.
“We ’ave some scuba gear over ‘ere but if you go to take lessons, the excursion company will provide de gear,” that man explained. “Dis is your vehicle.”
He had pointed them to a dusty looking jeep that had certainly seen better days. It had the remains of a green paint job, but rust covered most of it and where there was no rust, there were holes. “Will this hold together over these roads?” Brian asked. “We were told that the roads are pretty rough.”
“Oh, oui monsieur, it will hold.” Clearly he didn’t have anything better to offer either as Brian and Andrea looked at the other vehicles in the lot.
“I hope you’re right,” Andrea added. “We certainly don’t want to get stranded somewhere along some deserted road.”
“Deserted, Non…not in Haiti. Wherever you go there are people and most are willing to help a stranded tourist. Just smile a lot, mes amis and make sure that you say hello before asking directions or for help…. which you won’t need, I am sure. “ The agent handed over the keys and proceeded to return to his shop leaving Brian and Andrea looking at his back as he retreated inside.
“Oh, well, I guess we might as well give it a try. After all, we may waste all day looking for another rental agent. Hop in, Andrea. I’ll drive for now, but if you ever want to take over, just let me know.” As they pulled out into the traffic flow, Brian decided that a horn blasting in their ears was a better choice than running over someone. Leaning heavily on the decrepit apparatus in the middle of the steering wheel, they proceeded in the direction that the travel agent had suggested.
Before long they were in less populated surroundings, and the scent of ocean breezes was everywhere. “I’m not sure I’m ready to scuba dive so soon. We know nothing about these waters.” Andrea started to backpedal.
“Oh, you’ll do fine and the instructors won’t let anything happen to you.” Now Brian had begun to look forward to the experience.
“Maybe we need to get on the same page. I want to, you don’t. You do, I don’t.” Andrea screwed her face into a grimace. “Of course, there’s always the possibility they won’t take me.” She actually sounded hopeful.
Brian laughed. “Let’s find them first.”
A junction in the road caused the two to pause momentarily to decide which way to go. They chose to head towards the harbor. “I can’t believe all the potholes. I’m glad this is a four wheel drive.” Brian’s body jumped in the seat as they hit a particularly deep hole. The car shuddered.
Soon they were in front of an excursion company, the first listed in the guidebook. “We would like to take some diving lessons. How much do they cost?” Andrea entered the only door just ahead of Brian.
“We have an excursion boat going out daily. What you need is some short lessons in a pool first so we should schedule some for you as soon as possible. “The guide, speaking perfect English, was quick to place the two novices on the schedule. “See you then.” He waved as they left.
Brian returned to his position behind the wheel. Just as she was opening the car door, Andrea saw someone who looked very familiar to her. Her jaw dropped in utter and complete surprise. Jason! He was talking to a man across the street. “Brian, that’s Jason over there talking to that man!” she exclaimed.
“Who’s Jason?”
“You know that guy I told you about from work.”
“Are you sure?” Brian turned in his seat to get a better view. “Maybe it’s just someone who looks…wait a minute. He looks like one of the men I saw when we went to the bank. Remember I told you that I thought we were being followed, but I never saw them again. “Brian added. Andrea slid into the passenger seat, but then began to slide out of the rickety old car again until Brian placed a hand on her arm to stop her.
“Andrea, don’t go over there. He may be one of the men who kidnapped the Michners!” Brian held onto her arm so she couldn’t run across the street. “Just think for a minute…why would he be here? Did you tell him we were going to Haiti?”
“The day I left work, I told him about the murder; all of it. I wonder now why I trusted that information to him. I guess I just needed to get another opinion. Anyway, all he wanted was for me to go to the police. Max felt that I shouldn’t trust anyone…so I just ignored him. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Jason asked me to go out with him the day I went over to see Diane…the day we found them missing.”
“Oh, ho…”
“Never mind. I told him I wasn’t interested Anyway think about this for a second. I wondered then why Jason was interested in me. Now it looks like it it could be because of the Michners…”
“Andrea, we don’t know that for sure. And besides why wouldn’t he be interested in someone like you?” Brian sucked in a deep breath as he realized what he’d just said. Andrea was worth his interest too. M-m-m-m
Andrea tugged at Brian’s
sleeve. “Let’s get out of here before he sees us.”
“He probably followed us, Andrea. He knows we’re here already, I think. Why not keep the fact that we know he’s here to ourselves for the time being. If he doesn’t think we know he’s here, maybe he’ll slip up, lead us to someone who knows what’s going on.” Brian steered the car back toward Port-au-Prince.
Feeling as if her heart wasn’t in it, Andrea followed Brian’s lead as they headed towards the Iron Market, a large outdoor bazaar where many of the locals shopped, according to the brochure. “Let’s get some fresh fruits and vegetables as well as some cheese and French bread. That way we can eat in our room tonight and get to bed early so we’ll be fresh to begin our search tomorrow.” Brian tried to distract Andrea.
“That sounds like a plan. All of a sudden I’m really tired.” Andrea yawned as she picked out some particularly tempting pieces of fruit.
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