I knew a girl named Charlotte when I was a child growing up in Haiti. I’m not sure how old Charlotte was, but I think, she was older than I was. She had a lot more responsibility that I did and she did not go to school, that much I know and I’m sure of it. I remember the first time, I saw Charlotte. The curious child in me, prompted me to go and play with her. Of course, I prefer her companionship than that of her “Aunt Therese” as she referred to Madame Celestin.
Madame Celestin was a friend of my mother’s and at times, my mother would take me there with her. Somehow, my mother stopped visiting Madame Celestin and I don’t know why. I don’t remember exactly what Madame Celestin looked like. Aside from her dark complexioned skin, I don’t remember what she looked like. I do remember her hands moving about as she dismisses Charlotte to hurry Charlotte out and away. Whenever, I was at Madame Celestin’s house, I was hoped that I’d get to play with Charlotte. She could show me her dolls and toys and we could engage in conversations about them as I did with my other friends. I had no interest whatsoever listening to my mother talk to people her own age and listening to her as she talks to Madame Celestin was even worst. I did not even like Madame Celestin.
Naturally, I drifted towards Charlotte rather than listening to my mother and Madame Celestin.
The first time I saw Charlotte was not the first time that I had gone to her house. Somehow “Aunt Therese” as Charlotte refers to Madame Celestin as, kept her out of sight because I had never seen Charlotte before It was a hot day, with perspiration dripping from our faces, Madame Celestin, cried out Charlotte’s name and ordered her to fetch water cold water for my mother and me. “Hurry up” Madame Celestin said gesticulating her right hand as if fanning Charlotte away. “Salope” “vagabonne” she said, “I can’t tolerate how slow the girl is” Madame Celestin said of Charlotte to my mother. “It’s hot and she’s young” my mother replied. “No, she’s just lazy, and if I don’t push her, she’ll become useless” Madame Celestin commented.
When Charlotte returned with the water, I wanted to go and play with her rather than staying around Madame Celestin. It was a “no”. Madame Celestin promptly pulled me and put me back in the chair when I got up to go speak with Charlotte. “Children of the house don’t play with the Restaveks”. I sat down and refused to drink the water that Charlotte had brought in the water pitcher filled with water and ice that the heat was rapidly melting and turning into water. Charlotte had placed the pitcher in the center of the large tray into Madame Celestin’s cluttered living room’s cocktail table.
Madame Celestin had a busy home. Her mosaic topped wooden cocktail table had for what I know a million little porcelain figurines and some of them; Charlotte had to push towards the center to make room for the tray. As ugly and tacky as I found, Madame Celestin took pride in those little annoying place taking figurines. There were so many of them that I lost count trying to count them.
As Charlotte pushed some of the figurines towards the center to make room for the water pitcher, one felled; that, triggered an instant anger outburst from Madame Celestin prompting her to call Charlotte “imbecile”. Ms. Celestin grabbed Charlotte by one of her ears and threw her out of the living room. Fearing for Charlotte, and Madame Celestin’s anger, my heart pounded as I began to urinate in my starchy pressed white dress. I became fidgety. I don’t know exactly how many times I tried to redo the ribbon that was tied in the back of my dress as I tried to stop more urine but unable to get up. My fingers trembled behind my back, with each unsuccessful tie I made to the ribbon until I realized that it was pointless. I returned my hands and put them in my lap trying to keep them folded so I control the fidgeting as my teeth shuddered. I realized that I was uncomfortable with Ms. Celestin and I immediately developed an aversion to her. I did not like Madame Celestin and I wanted to go home immediately. To me, and at that particular moment, Madame Celestin became the folkloric symbol of evil or “lougaroup” as many Haitians call vicious people. I’d like to tell you more about that, but I don’t have the time and would rather continue telling you about Charlotte and what she went through as a Restavek and modern day slave.
