Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

 

 “Promise me you’ll call me as soon as you get there,” Sabrina Jacobs’ mother was telling Sabrina, as she gave Sabrina a very long hug in front of the security gate at the Miami International Airport.  It was as if it was the last time she was going to see Sabrina.

“Mom, I have to go.  They’re going to board soon,” Sabrina replied.  It was the same airport scene every summer since Sabrina was thirteen years old.  Before then, her mother always came with her on the flights to deliver her to her father, no matter where Sabrina’s father was. 

                “OK, I’ll wait for your call,” her mother finally said, as she let her go. Sabrina then grabbed the backpack that was on the floor next to them and rushed to the gate.  As she was going through the security check, the boarding call came on the airport’s speakers, causing Sabrina to worry that she might miss the flight.  Fortunately, it was early Saturday morning and the airport was less crowded than usual, which allowed Sabrina to reach the boarding gate just when the first class passengers were boarding the airplane.

                Sabrina’s seat was in the second row and always by the window as she liked.  She didn’t know how her father, who was always very busy, could remember this small detail.  But she was grateful.  As a regular first class passenger, Sabrina was familiar with the extra attention that she, along with other first class passengers, received from stewardesses whenever she traveled with her mother by plane.    However, this morning was different.  Sabrina could not lift a finger without someone coming quickly to see if she needed something, and she knew why.  This always happened whenever she was visiting her father, regardless of the country he was sent to. Two years ago, it was Congo, and years before that, Senegal.  It was as if her father’s influence extended even to the small confines of the first class section of the aircraft. 

This morning, as a flight attendant came to offer service to Sabrina one last time before takeoff, Sabrina felt as if she had a sign on her forehead, stating that she was the daughter of Dr.  Jack Jacobs, the American Ambassador to Haiti, and that everyone had to be on their guard.  Even though the flight to Haiti was less than two hours, for Sabrina, who liked to be left alone, it was going to be a very long flight.  

Suddenly Sabrina’s cellphone chirped, indicating that she had received a text message. Without looking, she knew it was Peter Ivanov.  She wanted to talk to him, but the flight attendant had already ordered that all cellphones be turned off.

It was only 9:00 am and Sabrina was tired from the night before, when she, Peter, her best friend Judy Allen and another friend from her high school had gone to a late night movie together.  When Peter took her home, Peter had confessed his love for her.  She knew she loved Peter too, but she didn’t tell Peter.  She was afraid the relationship would not last.  She and Peter were so different, like her father and mother, whose marriage only lasted three years.

Sabrina had one more year left of high school and wanted to go to college to become an expert in languages and a diplomat like her father.  Peter, on the other hand, had not graduated from high school.  Instead, he had left high school early and taken his GED, and then had concentrated on his programming career. Peter was eighteen years old now, one year older than Sabrina, and had become one of the best computer security experts in the world, with expertise in the development of government anti-hacking systems and firewalls.

Sabrina closed her eyes for one second. She was missing him already. She must have been really tired because when she opened her eyes, the plane was already preparing to land at the Port-au-Prince International Airport, in the capital of Haiti.

 

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                Like many airports in the Caribbean, the Port-au-Prince International Airport looked more like a regional airport than the international airport that it was.  The airport terminal was a small green three-story building, with no jetway.  What the airport lacked in sophistication, however, it made up for in many other ways, from the friendly greetings that the passengers received from airport staff, to the lively kompa music being played by smiling musicians using cowbells, drums, and conga instruments as travellers stepped off the plane.

                That morning was no different.  When the plane landed, the musicians, wearing blue guayaberas, were already in full swing.   As soon as the plane came to a stop, a motorcade of black SUVs rushed in and screeched to a halt in front of the portable stairs that the airport staff had attached to the door of the plane.  Sabrina, who was watching the scene from her window, already knew the drill.  The first-class passengers would be allowed to disembark first, but not until the motorcade had collected its passenger.

                On cue, Sabrina got up, grabbed her backpack from the overhead compartment and walked off the plane.  As soon as she was out, her father, who was sitting on the passenger side of the second SUV, came out with open arms toward Sabrina. He was wearing black slacks, a light blue shirt under a dark blue blazer, with no tie.   He wrapped his arms around Sabrina and held her for a few minutes.  Sabrina was happy to see him. The last time Sabrina had seen her father was during Christmas week, more than five months ago.

                Finally, he released her and for the first time he spoke and said, “Sabrina, today is a great day.  I have my little girl with me.  There is nothing better I could wish for.”

                “I’m glad to see you too, dad,” Sabrina replied.  While they were still on the tarmac,   an immigration officer came and stamped Sabrina’s passport, while a member of her father’s security detail carried her backpack to the back of her father’s SUV.

“You’re almost taller than me!” Her father exclaimed, looking at Sabrina.  Sabrina didn’t respond.  Her father had been saying that since Sabrina was six years old.  In reality, Sabrina was five foot seven inches, while her father was slightly over six feet. 

Sabrina admired her father greatly, which had caused some tension between Sabrina and her mother.   While her mother was well-off due to a large inheritance her mother had received from Sabrina’s maternal grandfather, who used to own a chain of laundry stores, Sabrina’s father was not.  On the other hand, Sabrina’s father spoke more than seven languages and held a doctorate in multicultural studies.   He had pursued his dream of becoming a great diplomat, and had succeeded.  In one sense, Sabrina was like her father, someone who never cared much about money.

“Sabrina, today you’re going to be the most beautiful girl in the presidential palace,” her father said as they were getting in the SUV.

Seeing Sabrina’s puzzled look, Sabrina’s father laughed and said, “The President has invited you and me for a brunch at the presidential palace.  We have to be there in a couple of hours.”

Sabrina was disappointed.  She was not in a mood for formal festivities. “Do we have to go?” She asked. 

“We can’t turn down the President,” her father answered.  “Besides, I want to show him how beautiful and smart my daughter is.  If I don’t show up with you, he’ll think that I’ve been lying about you and your looks.”

Sabrina always knew that she bore a strong resemblance to her very handsome father. She had the same gray eyes and black hair, and both had olive skin due to her late paternal grandmother, who was Italian.   However, Sabrina’s mother always joked that Sabrina’s striking looks were due to Sabrina’s oval face, which was the only physical feature that Sabrina had gotten from her mother.  Sabrina, who was still undeterred by her father‘s compliment, and who wanted to spend time with her father, said, “I didn’t bring any clothes.”

Her father then looked at the blue shorts and the short white blouse that Sabrina was wearing and said laughingly, “You can say that again.”

“I’m serious dad,” Sabrina argued.

 “You don’t have to worry about clothes,” her father finally said. “I have everything under control.”

“Dad, you didn’t go shopping for me again like you did in December, did you?”

“Not this time,” her father replied with a smile.  He still remembered Sabrina’s stunned look when she saw the clothes that he had purchased for her on her last visit.

Sabrina had said at that time, “Thank you, dad.  But don’t you think that these clothes are for people who live in a convent?” 

“This time, Linda helped me shop for you and we got some great clothes for you to wear for the summer.”

“Great,” Sabrina muttered.  Then turning to her dad, she said, “I can’t wait to meet Linda.  You’ve been talking about her constantly for several months now.”

Sabrina’s observation caused her father to reply, “Linda has a great sense of humor.  You’ll like her.”  Then looking more serious, he added, “I would encourage you to spend some time with her. Since you want to get into multi-cultural studies in college, she might be able to give you some guidance.”

“What is she doing in Haiti?” Sabrina asked her father.

“Linda has a doctorate in comparative religion. She used to teach comparative religion classes at New Orleans University. Fifteen years ago, she came to Haiti when she was hired by the Haitian government and never left. “

Sabrina, who was now curious, then asked, “Why was she hired?  Why did she leave her job in the states to come here?”

“Well, hired is not the proper word.  You see, for years the Haitian government has been trying to promote a better understanding of Haitian culture. For example, when people think of Haiti, they think about voodoo and zombies that you see in films eating people, and the Haitian government is trying to correct these false stereotypes.”

“How?” Sabrina asked.

“Because of Linda’s sterling professional reputation, the government wanted her to come and study Haitian culture and to tell the world accurately about it, to dispel common misconceptions. So, they sponsored her studies.” Her father then paused before adding, “You seem curious about this.”

“Yes, I would like to be able to learn about these things and maybe write about my experience on my college application early next year. That may help me get admitted,” replied Sabrina.

“That’s true,” her father agreed. “You can ask Linda about it when you see her today.  She’s going to be at the brunch at the presidential palace as well.” Then her father asked with a wink, “How is your boyfriend?”

The question caused Sabrina to blush.  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she retorted.

“I can see why you’re uncomfortable,” her father said.

“I am not uncomfortable,” Sabrina protested.

“I would be if I was dating the son of my mother’s boyfriend,” her father replied.  “I was seventeen years old once.  I saw the way you and Peter looked at each other the last time I saw you together.”

When Sabrina didn’t respond, her father then asked, “Is your mother getting remarried?”

“I don’t know.  She told me that Mr. Ivanov had asked, but that she told him that she wasn’t ready.”