Authors: Dale Mayer
"Oh yes. The thing is, Sis, you can honor the
grief you feel for the loss of your child, and the horror you felt for
all those people in Haiti, but you can't let this beat you. You need
to pick yourself up and grab hold of the reins of your life. Reacting
to a stimulus is one thing…wallowing is another thing entirely. When
you know what you're doing and choose to do nothing, then..." He
sat back, his gaze warm and caring. "Whereas Tony is offering you
a chance to step up and out of this place...and move forward."
Tony leaned forward. "Uh,
maybe
I'm offering this chance."
Duncan and Jade ignored him.
Jade traveled from one realization to another as they
slid through her, lighting all the dark places she'd clung to in her
mind. Her grief
was
real and
was
valid. Her distress was also justified. She had a right
to feel the way she did. Validation was empowering. Her anger at her
fiancé wasn't something she had a problem honoring… Still not doing
something about this hollowness inside ... Duncan was right...
That
was not
acceptable.
She sat back as understanding dawned. "And...now
that I do know...and don't do anything about it...it's self-pity?"
He grinned, pride and love shining at her. "Exactly.
And now that you do know, you can't continue on the same path. And by
your own words..."
She winced, hearing her voice from past conversations.
"I don't do self-pity." She closed her eyes and dropped her
head back. "Not fair. I don't know that I can do Haiti again."
"Maybe this time, you could see the healing.
The people who have turned their lives around and moved on. You could
find the positive and let that heal you too."
She groaned. "You're so into that new age mumbo
jumbo."
"It's me."
She couldn't argue that. Abruptly, she turned to face
Tony. "What's the job?"
Surprised, and looking a little disturbed, he answered,
"My client wants to retrieve three members of his family from a
mass grave and bring them home. The team leader on the project is Dr.
Bruce McLeod."
"Mass grave?" That didn't bother her. She'd
done those before. It was true, she knew she handled death well. She just didn't handle the 'people
dying' part so well – especially on a large scale...well. "How mass?"
He peered over the rim of his glasses. "We have
it on good notice that there are close to a hundred people buried in
a grave outside of Jacmel."
Jacmel.
She wracked her head for the little geographical information
she'd allowed to rattle around inside. The opposite side of Port-au-Prince
to where she'd been last time. Where her life had been flattened. "Is
his family Haitian?"
Tony tilted his head, a curious look on his face.
"Yes. Does it matter?"
"No. Identification would be easier if we're
looking for three Caucasians in a mix of dark-haired Haitians, for example.
After a year, there is likely to be hair still attached, making identification
easier."
"My understanding is that the grave contains
mostly locals with a few tourists that were there at the time."
She nodded. She liked the idea of doing something
to help someone. This could work. Close to – but not the same
as – what she'd been through before. She'd been stronger going
into it then. But she'd also been unprepared. She'd be neither of those
things this time.
"How long?"
"As long as it takes to get the job done. My
client isn't worried about the cost, within reason, and he's willing
to have the other bodies in the grave identified and processed along
with his family. The team will leave the information with whatever officials
there are in place to help identify those victims. The families will
then have the choice of what to do."
"That's generous. What about reburial of the
others for the families with no money?"
Tony grimaced. "This is obviously a sensitive
issue and we're working toward a happy resolution for everyone. It may
not be possible to identify everyone and it's quite possible that many,
if not all, of those people will need to be reburied in the same grave.
And though he's generous, the expenditures must fit in his budget."
Duncan leaned back and shoved his hands into the front
pockets of his faded jeans. "Whew. That's going to be some job."
Shooting him a mocking look, Jade asked, "Still
willing to come with me?"
He brightened. "Absolutely. I can travel and
socialize while you work."
Her leg shot out and connected with his ankle.
"Hey, I was just kidding." He shifted out
of the way, sending her an injured look.
The happy relief in his eyes made her realize just
how much he was hoping she'd come around to his way of thinking. "You'd
better be."
"If I could give you a few more details,"
Tony interrupted. "You'd be leaving in one week. The plan is to
give it three months and reassess. We've been assured this is a decent
time frame for our needs. There could be some adjustment down the road,
depending on the progress." He glanced down at his notebook. "Of
course…as I said there is a budget in place. So..." He narrowed
his gaze at her. "We'll work out many of the details over there."
"I have a job here, remember? I'd have to give
notice…not to mention I'd have the problem of no job when I come home."
She frowned. She couldn't walk out on her boss on short notice like
that. Neither could she afford to be jobless when she returned in three
months. Relief swept through her. There's no way she could go. She opened
her mouth to say just that when Duncan spoke first.
"Now don't be getting mad, Jade, however, I've
spoken with Gerard already after Tony and I discussed the issue in greater
depth."
"
You what?"
Her voice came out as an incredulous squeak.
"You called my boss? Are you nuts? I'm lucky he didn't fire me
yesterday."
Duncan grinned. "On the contrary. And don't forget,
he and I go way back. He actually liked the idea. He thought this placement
might just do the trick for you."
Now her astonishment turned to anger. Like a too old
rubber band, her emotions seemed to stretch thin and snap easily. "I
don't like you talking about me behind my back."
"Then don't act in such a way that the people
who care about you feel they need to get involved secretly."
"Whatever." She shot him a fulminating look.
Why did big brothers only come in arrogant, high-handed models? Her
anger flowed until he spoke again.
"He cares and so do I. The bottom line is you
can leave for three months and your job will be here when you get back."
Her protests died on her tongue. She was too weary
to continue the fight. A fight she knew he'd win. He loved her. It was
hard to argue with her self-proclaimed saviour. Besides, he was right.
She couldn't continue on the same self-destructive path. Someone had
to do something.
That someone had been him.
Now it was up to her.
Dane walked toward the main house, tucking his t-shirt
into faded jeans, admiring the play of the sun on the bright trumpet-like
flowers bouncing in the breeze. Haiti had a lot to offer. At least this
area. The countryside was green and lush, the rolling hills and white
beaches some of the nicest he'd ever seen. The people were wholesome
and strong in faith even after the disasters they'd faced. He'd loved
his time here.
It was coming to an end; he knew that. His future
didn't lie here. He knew he'd wake up one day and know it was time to
go home. He hoped it would be after the birth of his niece or nephew.
"Aren't you up early today?" His brother's
voice came from the vicinity of the patio.
"Look who's talking." Dane grinned at his
brother, unshaven and tousled, huddling over a large mug of coffee.
"Bad night?"
"Tasha said the baby was playing soccer with
her bladder all night. She must have gotten out of bed a dozen times."
Dane barely held in his laughter. "Ah the joys
of impending fatherhood." He walked toward the kitchen door. "Did
you leave any coffee in the pot?"
"I left some. I don't know that Tasha did."
Dane grimaced. Tasha was pretty reasonable most of
the time, but he'd been witness to a few of her 'I'm pregnant, don't
mess with me' moments. And they seemed to be more frequent now. He stuck
his head inside first, gauged the small room to be empty and strode
over to the coffee pot where he quickly grabbed a cupful and made a
fast exit.
Back outside, his brother was chuckling. "Made
it I see. She's gone back to bed, anyway, so I imagine you're safe enough."
"You could have told me that before I went in
there thinking I was risking my life." Dane pulled over the second
wooden chair and sat down to enjoy the morning.
"Nah, if I have to risk my life, you might as
well, too."
"There's a brother for you." The two sat
in companionable silence. Dane marveled at a location where the weather
sat every day at a comfortable seventy-five to eighty degrees. He knew
it fluctuated sometimes, but during his stay it had been remarkably
consistent.
Suddenly, Tasha stormed outside, the door slamming
behind her. Dane took one look at the building fury on her face, blinked
and turned slightly away. John was going to have to deal with this one.
"They can't come. You tell them they can't do
this. It ain't right." She shifted into a spat of guttural Creole,
making Dane grateful for his less than rudimentary understanding of
the language.
John closed his eyes briefly then opened them and
faced his Haitian wife while Dane looked on. "Now, honey. We've
been over this. Just because I say they can't come isn't going to stop
them."
"Why not? That property is ours."
"No, it's not." John's weary voice went
over ground that he had obviously covered many times. Dane took a sip
of coffee and tried not to show any interest. Tasha's black hair stood
on end; her face was puffy, her dark skin splotchy. Her large belly,
covered by an old stretched t-shirt that hung low, covered the bulk
of the goofy boxer shorts she wore. Dane had seen other pregnant women,
just none that reacted like Tasha. The longer he stayed, the more he
worried about his sister-in-law's mental and emotional health. John
never seemed to notice. Love had to be blind.
"Honey, I've told you before. That land borders
the family land, but it's not ours."
"It's land we've used since forever; it should
be ours." She pouted and collapsed on the arm of his chair beside
him, the tempest over for now. "We think of it as ours."
John grinned and tugged her closer.
"Except it isn't. I know you think it's wrong,
however you might want to try to see their point of view for a moment.
If that were your family thrown into a large pit in another country,
wouldn't you want to bring them home? Have a place where you could visit
them? Talk to them? Grieve for them?"
She frowned. "I understand that. I'm not heartless.
I feel sorry for the family… I do. What about all the other people
buried there though? Some of them could be friends. Family. I don't
know who's buried there. I do know it's bad luck to wake the dead. We
need to honor their souls and let them rest."
"Maybe we can do something for the other people,
too. And no one is talking about waking the dead. We're hoping to give
the dead – and the living – peace. We've gone over this. It's in
progress and we can't stop it."
"I still want to."
Dane buried his smile in his thick ceramic mug. She
sounded more like a truculent child now. He could see her point, but
his brother was right – the process had already started. By this
time next week, the grave would be open.
She'd see then. Nothing bad would come of this.
T
he heat hit her first. She'd forgotten how strong
and heavy the air smelled. Being March, the humidity shouldn't be bad
until they were almost finished with the job here. Jade stepped out
of the airport in Port-au-Prince and walked the tarmac toward the waiting
vehicles. Now she almost wished her brother was beside her. But they'd
both decided it would be better if he came in a month or so.
She took a deep breath. Christ. She was really here.
There were seven team members. A smallish enough group
to get to know, but big enough they'd get the job done. Beside Bruce,
the leader, there was Dr. Mike a forensic anthropologist, but with more
degrees than she had herself, and Meg Stern. There were two other men
who would double as computer nerds and work at the gravesite. There
was a third female in the group, Susan, but Jade had forgotten the details.
It wouldn't take long to get to know each other. She hoped. Meeting
new people wasn't normally an issue for her, but this last year of hermit
living hadn't been good in that sense. She was nervous. And that was
stupid. She was good at what she did. She wanted to help on this project.
She could do this.
And she'd almost convinced herself.
Taking several deep breaths, she allowed herself to
really look at the area. The last time she'd flown in with the army.
She'd been whisked in and whisked out and had worked most of the time
behind tight security. This time they'd taken a commercial flight. When
they landed there was no army, no police – no security of any kind.
Intense blue skies smiled down on her. She almost
believed everything was going to be alright.
Almost.
Her gaze wandered the surrounding areas as they made their way to the rental vehicles.
Some things hadn't changed. Collapsed buildings still dotted the terrain;
abandoned vehicles had been dragged off the main roads to clog fields
and side roads. The biggest differences were the lack of bodies decorating
the landscape and the roads were now passable.