Page 23 of Pierre
“No. No backpacks,” said Pierre. “It makes you look like a tourist or a humanitarian worker.”
“I am a humanitarian worker,” she smiled.
“I know, babe, but we want to look like no one. I can look that way because I look like a local. You guys don’t.”
“It makes sense,” said Marjorie. “What about a small tote bag with just the basic first-aid supplies? Just in case.”
“I’ll agree to that,” nodded Pierre. Ambry and Marjorie left to grab their tote bags, and all eyes turned to Butch.
“Two nurses in less than three days. That might be a record,” frowned Conn.
“Fuck off. I didn’t plan on doing anything with Judy. She made it a bit difficult when she was naked and sucking my dick. Marjorie is different. She’s smart and sweet and funny. I really like her.”
“Oh, damn. Is this gonna be number five?” frowned Pierre.
“No! Absolutely not! No. I, uh, no. Shit.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
There was never an end to the crowds on the streets. People selling food. People begging for food. People sleeping on the street. People selling themselves on the streets. Men and Women.
It didn’t go without notice that gang members walked around with automatic weapons – Russian, Chinese, and American-made. Someone was selling weapons to the gangs, but that was an issue that Pierre and the team couldn’t solve today. Or this month, or this year, for that matter.
“Jesus, this is awful,” said Marjorie.
Butch was holding tight to her hand, and she was grateful. If someone grabbed her, there would be nothing anyone could do about it with this many people.
Pierre stopped in front of an older woman selling plates of food. He offered to buy it all if she would tell him where St. Francis Assisi was located. Almost all of them spoke French, but the French spoken by the Haitians was an entirely different variety.
“Why are you seeking the church?” asked the old woman.
“We would just like to speak with them,” said Pierre. “I assure you, we mean no harm.”
“Are you stealing our children?” she asked.
“No,” said Marjorie, stepping closer to the woman. “No. I promise we are not. I’m a nurse, as is my friend over there. We want to help the children and get them home safely.”
The woman gave a chuff of disgust and shook her head, clucking her tongue at them.
“Safe? Look around you. There is no place safe here for a child any longer. They will use them for work, war, or something worse. Safe is not an option.”
“Can you at least let us try?” asked Ambry. The old woman looked at them, then back at Pierre.
“You are one of us.”
“I used to be. I was adopted. Legally, by my parents. I’ve had a wonderful life and would like to make sure these children have the same option.”
“The church is down this road, turn left at the green house and then left at the small garden. So you know, just because it’s a church doesn’t mean it’s a good place.”
They stared at one another, wanting to ask for more information, but the woman was suddenly very busy with men asking for their lunch.
“What do you suppose she meant by that?” asked Marjorie.
“I’m not sure,” said Pierre. “We’ve had some experiences where the church was guilty of some pretty horrendous crimes. We’re not blind to that, but no one has given any indication that’s the case here. She might just be bitter about something. Let’s find this place.”
Tucker and Fish took the lead with Butch, Marjorie, Pierre, and Ambry in the middle, Conn and Winslow at the rear. The women might not be aware of it, but the men were ready for anything, weapons hidden on their bodies, tucked inside their clothing.
They turned left at the green house, then left again when they saw the lovely little gardens. They were pathetically out of place in the disaster and poverty-stricken streets.
