LOVE & CHOLERA

“Ok!” said one of the marines. “I have an idea” He pulled out the megaphone and started driving up making announcements is English and having Tonton do the same in Creole.
“We are not here to arrest anyone; we are just here to find a missing child”.
“Nou pa isit la yo arete nenpòt moun nou yo se jis isit la jwenn yon timoun ki disparèt” said Tonton.
They kept repeating it over and over as they slowly drove up the street. Soon a small mob gathered behind the jeep as they continued to get closer to the school. After which they could go no further, there were tires blocking the street. One of the convicts who were occupying the school came out and on the rooftop they could see at least twenty men. They didn’t know if they were armed or not.
The convict shouted “why are you here? Leave this place. We have nothing for you”.
Then he turned to the mob and said “they come here to kill us.   They want us dead…Death to the Americans”. They started throwing bottles and cans and rocks at the jeep.
 “Bad idea” said the marines we should have never drove in.
He looked at the other marine and replied “I’m not dying in here today; if I have to I’m plowing right through.”
Marie grabbed the bull horn and jumped out the in the street. As she jumped out, a rock was thrown and hit her in the head causing blood to squirt from her forehead. Jason attempted to jump out the truck and Tonton grabbed him.
“They will kill you, and you will make it worse for her. If anyone can she can do this”.
 
Blood was dripping down on her white shirt. She took a small piece of cloth gauze from her pocket and held it to her head.
“What is wrong with you?” she shouted in creole into the megaphone. “I am Haitian; I am your daughter like the girls trapped in that building. Does making me bleed make you a proud Haitian? Does the sight of my blood bring you joy? How many of our people have died in the past few days and how many more will die in the coming days? Take my life if you must because   those children being raped and held as prisoners in that building will surely die”.
“Our Haitian faith comes from God. We are one people united against overwhelming odds. You did not choose to be Haitian we are born Haitian. We do not choose our faith we are born with it, we do not choose to kill our children they are meant to live”…There was a hushed silence from the mob. You could hear a pin drop as she walked closer to them; she wanted them to see who she was, so they could see the blood gushing from her head. “These men are criminals, escaped convicts from the Port au Prince who were jailed, who kill and rape our children and yet you stone me, the hands that would save them. Then you are not Haitian because Haitians do not kill babies. These are the men you should be stoning” she said, pointing at the school. The cloth she was holding to her head became heavy, her hands were tired and her lips were dry.
She then felt hands embracing her, they were holding her up and the voice said to the crowd “shame on you, shame on you. Do you know who this is? Yes you do! When she was born you partied in the streets. This is Marie DuPont Duvalier, daughter of Jean Pierre Duvalier”.  And then the old man started calling names and appointing people out in the crowd.
“Philippe when your mother died didn’t Jean Pierre come to the funeral and bury her free of charge? Moel when your son got yellow fever didn’t Jean Pierre took care of him and gave you money? “ Then someone in the crowd turned to the gates of the school and shouted “Give Marie the children , Give Marie the Children , Give Marie the Children” the mob became incredibly angry and turned their rage on the convicts. They were throwing rocks and firebombs at the school, and they broke down the barrier. The old man helped Marie back to the jeep and the road was cleared. “Let’s go!” said the marines “get her in”.