Haitian Corner Page #2

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far it's not funny.

Tell me where he

is and I'll forget it.

Forget what? What's all this

sh*t? -Look, it will be a scandal.

If they find out about your

secret meetings with a torturer.

Now I don't get it. Where

is your guy? In my pocket?

You see anyone?

Exile has really gone

to your head, man.

You better go and

see your friend Hegel.

Soon you'll have a

cowboy hat and a gun.

...at Sarah's for a money transfer.

Here in New York? Why

would he come here?

Look, Hegel, I'm not an idiot!

You wouldn't know about Theodor? You

always know everything that's going on.

You're the one telling me about him.

Not only him.

I saw Wilson's car too. -So

what? -At the same place?

So, were they hugging each other?

You saw it with your own eyes?

I'll never forget the voice.

How could I forget it?

I'm sure it was him.

See this cane?

How long have I had it now?

About 8 years, right?

You talk about forgetting?

I can't even forget the smells.

The noises.

Details that you'd never think

were important. I remember them all.

Forget, you say!

I was caught after the curfew.

A jeep full of tontons

macoutes militia men.

Looking for a good time.

They beat me with a metal bar.

I fell down, crying,

begging them to stop.

Bathing in blood and excrement.

When I showed no sign of life,

they dragged me to the intersection

and ran over me with the jeep.

I was lucky they only got my leg.

Why do you tell me this now?

I've never told

that story to anyone.

What hurts the most is not

my leg. But the shame of it all.

Open up, please. -What do you want?

We're closed. Come back tomorrow.

I can't. -We're closed.

Open up, or I'll make a

scene. Open this damn gate now!

Sarah!

Hury up. There's a guy asking

for you. -Joseph, what's going on?

Help me, I must get

that guy's address.

Who are you talking about?

Who is he? -Don't

wory, he's my brother.

Tell him to go.

Well, there are several names.

Which one do you want?

This one? He didn't

leave any address.

He was transferring money. -What

do you mean? Who's he sending it to?

Joseph, I'm not allowed to.

Sarah, give me the name, damn it!

Mimose...

Madame Mimose.

What's up, Pete?

You see that guy?

He's been like that for years.

Every day, he gets up, gets

dressed, he packs his things.

To go back to Haiti.

Goes to the travel agency,

asks for the cost of a flight.

Then stays there all day long.

That's how Haitians live here.

Don't you have that

problem? -I have others.

At the parking lot?

The other day in this parking lot,

they found a guy in a big Jaguar.

His head on the steering

wheel, his eyes staring at God.

Man, I wouldn't

have died like that...

You're still writing, Joseph?

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