Mission Libertad

by Lizette M. Lantigua

“Are they good to you here?” Luisito said, looking around the room.

  “Very good, very good indeed!” The doctor smiled. “And we are going to treat you very well, too.”

  After Dr. Gonzalez checked Luisito, he was wheeled to another room where technicians took X-rays of his lungs and drew his blood.

  “Don’t worry, Luisito,” the doctor said. “This is normal procedure.”

  His parents soon joined him. Luisito saw the bandages on their arms where their blood had been drawn, too. He watched from his room as an officer walked down the hall eating a chocolate candy bar. He stared as the officer bit into the chewy, mouth-watering sweet. Luisito knew what chocolate tasted like. He remembered the time he went to Coppelia, the ice cream parlor in Havana, on his last birthday. He had waited in line forever, but the treat was delicious!

  Luisito could not believe his eyes. Abuela was right! Her stories about all the wonderful things in the United States were real! If he had gotten hold of a candy bar in Cuba, he would have taken tiny bites of it for days. At that moment, a nurse handed Luisito a bowl of soup. The warm soup coated his empty stomach and he began to feel sleepy. He felt safe at last.

  6 SEIS

  The next day, the Ramirez family were taken by bus to a refugee processing place in South Florida. The bus ride was long and the apprehension made it worse. Finally, they arrived. As they got off the bus they saw that the building was fenced in with barbed wire and there was a security guard at the entrance. It looked like a jail. Luisito stared at his parents, then looked back at the building. It was scary.

  “Are we being taken to jail, Papi?” Luisito finally blurted.

  “No, son,” Miguel said. Then he quietly asked the officers a few questions.

  “The officer has assured me that we will be fine. It’s just a matter of time. They have to contact our family first,” said Miguel.

  “Miguel, do you believe what the officer said?” whispered Elena in a concerned tone.

  “Elena, we are in the United States. Don’t worry,” he said.

  “Well, you never know, there could be dishonest people anywhere. You can never be too sure,” she said, rubbing her hands as she often did when she was nervous.

  “Mi amor, honey, don’t worry,” Miguel said, holding her hand.

  “Maybe we will meet someone here as nice as Dr. Gonzalez,” Luisito said.

  “What a set-up that was!” Miguel said, remembering the Coast Guard facility. “The medicine cabinets were full! I wish I could have had all of that at home to treat my patients.”

  When they entered the building, an officer approached the family and gave them bright orange uniforms. Now we really look like prisoners, Luisito thought. When they stepped out into the courtyard, they blended in with all the other refugees who wearily awaited news of their future. Meanwhile, immigration officials were trying to reach the Ramirezes’ relatives.

  As each hour passed the reality that they were in the United States started to sink in and their optimism increased. Luisito hoped that here he wouldn’t go to bed hungry. And, most of all, that he could live without fear. He was buoyed by these hopes, but the memories of Abuela, his friends, and his neighborhood haunted him.

  When he closed his eyes he could picture himself standing at the Malecón, a scenic walkway surrounding the port of Havana. He could even smell the salt water. He remembered the hills behind the rows of old houses and the shiny stars twinkling above the dark streets of his barrio. Most of all he remembered his dear Abuela’s smile and her hugs. He was so happy to have escaped but, at the same time, so sad to leave all these things that had been his home.

  Luisito snapped out of his memories when a cold sandwich and the most delicious apple juice were placed in front of him. There was a television set at one end of the hallway, but Luisito couldn’t understand any of the programming. Cuba had been one of the first countries in Latin America to sell television sets before the revolution, but Luisito had hardly watched it on the island. First of all, they didn’t have electricity most of the time. Second, the programs were all produced by the government, and they were boring. Third, if your television broke it was almost impossible to save enough money to buy another. He looked now at the TV set in the living area for the newly arrived. He was fascinated by the commercials showing all the different kinds of restaurants, instant hot soups, new toys, and new styles of clothing. Everything was so new to him!

  Luisito looked around the room, which was full of adults. He then spotted another teenager with curly brown hair playing solitaire.

  “¡Hola!” Luisito said.

  “¡Hola!” the boy answered. Luisito was relieved that the boy spoke Spanish.

  “I’m Tito,” he said. “I’m from the Dominican Republic. How about you?”

  “I’m Luisito from Cuba,” he said.

  “How did you get here?” Tito asked.

  “By sea, in a raft. And you?” Luisito said.

  “I came by sea as well, but in a small boat,” Tito said. “How was your trip?”

  “It was something, all right!” Luisito said.

  “Yeah, me too,” Tito said. “Here, take a seat, let me show you some card tricks.”

  Tito was quick with the cards in his hand. He was thirteen years old and had arrived with his mother about a month ago. Luisito hoped he didn’t have to stay in this place so long. He enjoyed Tito’s card tricks and his stories about growing up in the Dominican Republic.

  That night, the men were taken to a locker room to shower. Then Miguel and Luisito were sent to a large room full of small beds. He slept on a cot beside his dad. His mother was taken to another room where the women slept. He hoped his mom was not worried being all by herself; he felt secure with his father.

  For three days, Luisito spent his mornings in the United States being questioned in a small room with his parents. They asked him about his life in Cuba, his family, and his escape from the island. They ate in a large cafeteria. Luisito had never seen so much food in one place—and for free! During the rest of the day, he played card games with Tito and watched television, picking up some English words. Sometimes he would go where the women gathered and listen to the Spanish soap operas playing on TV. He was allowed to be with his mother. She was only away from them to shower and sleep at night.

  On the fourth day, Elena’s cousin Rosie arrived at the detention center. When the forty-year-old woman dressed in a nice business suit entered the room, Elena didn’t recognize her immediately. She thought it was another interviewer or an immigration attorney. Elena had not seen her cousin in about twenty years.

  “You don’t remember me, Elenita?” Rosie said in a high-pitched voice.

  “Oh, my, is it really you?” Elena exclaimed, recognizing her for the first time. “When you first walked in the door I thought it was someone else!”

  Tears rolled down their cheeks as they hugged.

  “You look so much prettier in person,” Elena said.

  “Oh, please,” Rosie said, tilting her head back and laughing. “I am getting your papers ready, and in only a few more hours you will be out of here.” She put an arm over Luisito’s shoulder.

  “You are tall! You take after your father,” she said, looking at Miguel, who gave her a hug. “We will be going straight to the airport and flying to Maryland, where the whole family is waiting for you.”

  Maryland! That was news that Luisito was not expecting. He had to carry out Abuela’s instructions in Miami, at the shrine of Our Lady of Charity. What was he going to do now?

  “Can we stay in Miami for a day or two?” Luisito asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Rosie said. “I have to be back in Maryland for work, but I will take vacation soon and we can visit with my parents in Miami.”

  Rosie moved her hands quickly while she spoke. Luisito observed her long red fingernails and the clicking of her charm bracelet. She had a wedding ring with a sparkling diamond, something Luisito had never seen before.

  “I brought some w
arm sweaters for you in the car. You might be chilly on the plane ride to Maryland,” she said.

  “But can we visit the shrine of Our Lady of Charity before we take off?” Luisito insisted.

  “Why?” Elena said. “How do you know about that?” His parents looked at each other in amazement. They had never spoken to him about the shrine.

  “Abuela told me about it,” Luisito said.

  “Ay, el niño wants to pray there?” Rosie said, looking at his parents with a tender smile. “Oh, he is such a good boy. Of course, you want to visit the shrine of Our Lady of Charity, the patron of Cuba, to thank her for your arrival. But there is not much time before our flight back. Maybe we can all come for Christmas.”

  Luisito wanted to explain his urgency but he couldn’t. It was Abuela’s strict instruction not to mention anything to anyone. His parents might not approve.

  Meanwhile, Luisito went to the main hall to say good-bye to Tito.

  “I am getting out of here!” he said.

  “Buena suerte!” Tito said, giving Luisito a pat in the back. “I hope I can get out of here myself.”

  Tito smiled genuinely, but with a trace of sadness since his own destiny was still in question and he was now losing his new friend.

  Luisito gave him a piece of paper with his soon-to-be address in Baltimore, Maryland.

  “Keep warm! I hear it gets cold in Maryland,” Tito said, giving Luisito another quick pat on the shoulder.

  “I will try!” Luisito smiled.

  7 SIETE

  A few hours later, the Ramirezes took off their orange uniforms and changed into clothes Rosie had brought them. Luisito felt good taking off the orange jumpsuit. He quickly changed into a red shirt with a little animal on the chest. He couldn’t see exactly what it was. A frog perhaps? He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. No, it was an alligator! He then climbed into a pair of blue jeans and pulled on a brown sweater.

  A red car awaited them outside the center, and, to their surprise, Rosie’s elderly parents were there to greet them. They were the only close relatives the Ramerizes had in Miami.

  “¡Muchacho! So many years without seeing you!” said Rosie’s father, Manuel, a strong seventy-year-old.

  “I am so happy to see you!” said Rosie’s mom, Maria Cristina, who was affectionately called Maricusa. She was Abuela’s only sister.

  “I like living in Florida where it is warm,” Maricusa said, smiling. “They are young,” she said, pointing to her daughter. “They can deal with the cold winters. Anyway, they visit every summer and for Christmas.”

  Luisito was relieved that he could come for Christmas. That was only six months away. He still had time to fulfill his promise to Abuela.

  Maricusa seemed to Luisito like a younger version of Abuela. He felt a little cheated because they had only just met and now he had to leave for the airport. He wished he could stay a while longer.

  “Too bad this is so quick,” said Manuel, Rosie’s father, as if he were reading Luisito’s mind. “It would have been great to have you here a few days, but I understand that you need to settle things quickly in Maryland with school starting soon.”

  “We will come up for Christmas this year,” Maricusa said. “And that way we will see the whole family and have a snowy Christmas!”

  “I want to come to Miami for Christmas,” Luisito said, looking around for acknowledgement.

  “Christmas is much prettier up north with all the snowmen and pine trees decorated,” Rosie said.

  “Well, we’d better get going,” said Manuel, looking at this watch. Luisito squeezed into the backseat with his mother, Rosie, and Maricusa. The vinyl seats of the red Impala seemed as hot as the sun itself. His dad sat in the front with Manuel as they drove to the security checkpoint. Manuel gave the security guard some papers and then got out and opened the trunk. The guard looked inside and gestured that they could leave.

  Luisito felt a huge sense of relief as the car drove away from the barbed-wired, prisonlike detention center. He pressed his face on the glass as they drove through a neighborhood. He noticed with amazement that every house had a car, and some had more than one. He also observed that the houses were all painted and that none of them had poles on the sides holding them up like in his hometown.

  During the drive to the airport, Elena and Miguel continued retelling their escape, while Luisito interrupted with his own comments.

  “You should have seen us rowing that tiny raft,” said Luisito.

  “You were very lucky to have survived the trip without any major storms. It’s the beginning of hurricane season!” Rosie said.

  “If you went back you would not even recognize your birthplace,” Elena said, whispering as she did in Cuba for fear of being heard.

  “You can’t trust anyone,” Miguel added. “You don’t know who will snitch on you.”

  Finally, after several ramps and turns, they were at the airport terminal. They piled out of the car, exchanging many hugs and good-byes, and promising to return to visit Maricusa and Manuel. Rosie’s luggage was turned over to a clerk at the airline booth. Luisito was amazed at all the different people he saw and the way they were dressed. Teenagers were reading colorful magazines. Three children played with something in a box. The oldest boy looked about twelve years old. He carried the box and all the others talked to it. Luisito was curious as to what animal was in there.

  He overheard the family speaking in Spanish, although they had an accent he had not heard before. The kids spoke in English among themselves.

  “¡Mira!” said the boy, pointing to the box he held in his hands.

  “Si, what is it?” Luisito asked. He stared into a box but saw only a stone.

  “It’s my new pet rock,” said the boy, smiling.

  “What is the boy saying?” Elena asked Luisito.

  “He said that’s his pet rock,” Luisito whispered to his mother, and he rolled his eyes.

  “Oh, how unusual. Stay close to us, Luisito,” she said nervously.

  They walked down a long hall until they reached a row of what looked like movie theater seats.

  “When are we ever getting on the plane?” Luisito asked.

  “Oh, but we are on the plane, Luisito,” Rosie said, smiling.

  “What do you mean? How did I get on?”

  “You didn’t realize it, but when we were walking down the hall we were getting on the plane,” Rosie explained. “Here, push up the window shade so you can see the takeoff.”

  Luisito had never been on a plane before. He was a little scared at first. However, it all seemed much safer than the raft he had been on. After some chatting, three packs of peanuts, and two sodas, Luisito landed at Baltimore-Washington International Airport with his family.

  8 OCHO

  Relatives and friends greeted them at the airport with posters and bouquets of flowers. Luisito was blinded by camera flashes. Women of all shapes and sizes hugged him and pinched his cheeks. Men greeted him with pats on the head and slaps on the back. There were hugs and tears all the way to the parking lot. Instant cameras spit out green pictures that were fanned until dry to produce images of his family.

  Luisito never realized he had so much family! Back in Cuba, there were only his parents and Abuela. No one else. He was now part of a clan with many kids his own age! Rosie introduced him to each family member and explained how they were related. It was too much information at once, so Luisito decided that for now he would just smile and nod. Finally, he was introduced to Rosie’s husband, José, son, Tommy, and daughter, Sonia.

  José was tall and muscular with premature gray in his hair that complemented his youthful face. He spoke some Spanish but much more English. He said he came from Cuba when he was five years old. He had a contagious laugh and a carefree attitude. He mentioned that he was an architect and had designed his own house. Luisito had never really thought of anyone doing such a thing. The only construction projects he knew of in Cuba were the hotels built by foreigners.

>   Luisito observed how the luggage swirled by and passengers would quickly pick them up. How could they tell which was theirs, Luisito thought, when all the luggage looked the same to him? During the car ride to Rosie’s home, the adult conversation revolved around the different ways Abuela could legally come to the United States. Luisito listened quietly for about an hour, until they arrived at a house with a well-manicured lawn. More people came out the door to greet them, many of them women who bore a resemblance to his Abuela. Some of them snapped pictures; others were too busy hugging to remember to take pictures.

  When Luisito entered Rosie’s house, a rich blend of seasonings in the air greeted him. He followed the pleasant aromas to the kitchen, where pots and pans were full of good things to eat. He watched as busy hands cut up vegetables and sprinkled spices for salads, sauces, and stews. Luisito couldn’t believe so much food could exist in one single home. There were foods he had never seen or eaten before! He wondered if they worked for the government. Then he remembered things were different in this country. Back in Cuba, only those in the military or who were well connected had access to these things.

  “Luisito, con esa pinta vas a tener a las muchachas así,” some of the elderly relatives teased him.

  Luisito noticed that some of his girl cousins laughed or rolled their eyes at the men’s silly remarks about having several girlfriends at a time.

  “Don’t listen to them, Luisito,” Rosie said, laughing. “They are married to their only girlfriends!”

  “I know,” Luisito said laughing. “Perro que ladra no muerde.”

  Everyone laughed at the old Spanish saying that literally says a barking dog doesn’t bite, meaning that those who talk a lot are just bluffing.

  “Here, taste this, Luisito; does it need more salt?” asked a relative stirring something on the stove. The creamy sauce filled Luisito’s mouth and he licked his lips with delight.

  Relatives were turning Luisito this way and that. He was being hugged, patted on the head, and introduced to more cousins his age.