Dancing in the Baron's Shadow Read Free Page A

muttered.
    â€œJust go,” Raymond said. “Get on that bus, get out of town! I don’t want your money.”
    The man peered into his eyes.
    â€œNot a cent,” Raymond insisted, holding his palm up. He would not make money off of someone who’d almost lost his life to the Macoutes, no matter how desperate things were. It would be dishonest, even immoral. Somehow, he knew, taking money would upset the balance of things. He just needed to leave, to get away from these people, to make it home by eight o’clock. Thankfully, home was just a few minutes from here.The more time he spent with these fugitives, the more he was convinced danger would haunt him.
    â€œI owe you—”
    â€œGo!” Raymond repeated. “Get on that bus!”
    The woman stopped on the sidewalk, staring back at them. “Milot, let’s go!”
    The man leaned in closer to Raymond at the window, and the bus driver let loose a fresh string of obscenities.
    â€œGod bless you for all you’ve done for us today, brother,” the man said. “You saved our lives. If you ever need help, come to the town of Marigot, past Jacmel, and ask for me on the beach. The blue house with red windows. My name is Milot Sauveur.”
    Raymond frowned. Sauveur. That name was familiar. And that voice? Raymond’s face brightened and he leaned closer. “Milot Sauveur? The reporter from Radio Lakay?”
    Sauveur nodded. Raymond couldn’t believe it. Here was that voice, in the flesh, a voice he’d spent long afternoons listening to in his kitchen while shining his shoes. Here was that voice, whose reports he’d so come to trust. Six weeks ago, when Milot Sauveur had suddenly gone silent, everyone had assumed the worst. Raymond was thrilled to see him in one piece, but what did this mean? He was alive, but for how long? People like Sauveur had only two fates these days: imprisonment or death—the same thing, effectively. Sauveur leaned in and tossed ten gourdes on the dashboard before Raymond could refuse. The bills fluttered around and fell on Raymond’s lap.
    â€œI’ll never forget this,” Sauveur said, squeezing Raymond’s arm. Raymond could only nod in response.
    Then Sauveur ran toward his wife, grabbed her hand, and shepherded her and the baby onto the bus. There was a brief commotion inside. Raymond could hear passengers sucking their teeth and caught a glimpse of eyes rolling in annoyance as the family stumbled down the aisle. The bus’s engine came to life in a cloud of black smoke.
    Raymond pulled down his visor and looked again at the photographof his children. Go home, Raymond. His eyes shifted to the rearview. Nothing suspicious. He backed out of his spot, repressing a shudder as he lost himself in the traffic.
    Raymond parked his Datsun in the driveway and exhaled. He’d made it home alive, intact, with four minutes to spare. He wanted to run inside and lock the doors. He needed the safety of his home, the two-bedroom apartment they’d been renting for a few years, in the back of an old gingerbread house. Yet he found he could barely move.
    He peeled his fingers off the wheel and stared at them, willing the tremors away. His entire body seemed to be vibrating with a mild seizure, and he smelled the sweat festering in his armpits. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest. He couldn’t extract himself from the car. Not yet. He needed his legs to stop shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d confronted death this way, come so close to it. In some ways, he thought, it was surprising. Everyone in Port-au-Prince lived in death’s shadow.
    Finally, he got out, wobbling. He considered the small white Datsun he’d been driving for years. It was now his accomplice in a crime, regardless of good intentions. He had acted purely out of instinct. And now, heart racing, he faced the likely facts of his situation: they must