Mission Libertad

by Lizette M. Lantigua

  Miguel was now working as a secretary at a doctor’s office during the day, and at night he was bagging groceries at a supermarket. He had two nights off from the grocery store, and he and Elena were attending English classes at a nearby high school. Once Miguel and Elena mastered English they could start studying to resume their former careers. Elena was working with Rosie at José’s architecture firm. She helped with the filing and other office work. Rosie was the office manager.

  It was hard work to balance so many things right now, but they were encouraged by all the other Cubans in the family who had done the same thing when they first came. They also had the advantage of living with family for as long as needed so they could save for their own place. Their new family seemed to enjoy having them at their home and didn’t even want to speak about the day they were to move out.

  Rosie put all the dirty dishes in the sink, cleaning her hands with a dish towel.

  “Is everyone ready?” she asked.

  “Yes, I will get my jacket,” Luisito said. Although his cousins were still wearing short-sleeved shirts, the air was crisp—not what Luisito was used to.

  Churches reminded Luisito of Abuela. He knew she would be going to church today. It was as if they were united in some strange way. The music coming from the choir caught his attention. The priest spoke, and then someone started reading. He wished he could understand the readings better. Then Tommy passed him a missalette, a book to follow along what the lector was reading. Luisito could read and understand English much better than he could speak it.

  He watched attentively as the others sat, stood, and knelt. He loved the reading from the Gospel of Mark on how Jesus came to bring hope to all. He learned how Jesus healed, cured, and spread the word of God. This made Luisito very happy. It filled him with hope as well. Hope that he would make new friends, hope that his parents would have good jobs, and hope that Abuela would soon join them.

  When the priest stepped to the ambo for the homily, Luisito tried to listen closely, but because it wasn’t in Spanish he could only understand a few things. He heard the priest say that it was everyone’s mission to live the Word of God and spread the Good News. Luisito wanted to read the Good News, but what in the world was that? Where could he find it? He would have to ask.

  His mind had wandered a little when he heard a bell ring. He didn’t know where it was coming from. He saw the priest lift a round piece of bread with great reverence and hold it high so everyone could see it. He did the same with a gold cup. Luisito was mesmerized. He saw the young priest’s face and he imagined for a brief second that it was Jesus breaking the bread. The feeling made him shiver. He wondered what the others kneeling beside him felt. Some had their eyes closed and were absorbed in their conversation with God. Others looked at the altar and their lips moved as if they were holding a private conversation with someone. Luisito wondered how they had come to believe in God. He asked God to help him so he could soon understand and pray like those around him. Music began to play and people got up from the pews to receive this bread. This must be the Holy Bread that Abuela had spoken about. Luisito felt an urge to go when Rosie whispered in his ear.

  “You have to learn more about the Holy Eucharist before you can receive it,” she said.

  Luisito sadly sat back down.

  “But you may participate by staying in your seat and praying with the rest of the community,” Rosie added.

  Everyone sang one last hymn and then it was over. As they left Luisito noticed his mother was misty-eyed.

  “I feel so good going to Mass,” he heard her tell Rosie, “but at the same time so empty. I don’t understand anything. I want to go to confession but there is no one here who speaks Spanish.”

  As they were walking toward the parking lot, Luisito saw a girl about his age. She had orange hair the color of a calabasa, or pumpkin, and the prettiest green eyes Luisito had ever seen.

  “Hi, Tommy,” she said, waving.

  Luisito was glad she knew Tommy. This meant he would be meeting her.

  “Hi, Sherry,” Tommy said, and casually waved one hand. She looked at Luisito as she walked closer.

  “This is my cousin Lewis,” said Tommy.

  “Hi, Lewis,” she said, waving.

  Luisito waved but was unable to say a word.

  “Got to go,” said Sherry. “Nice to meet you!”

  Again, Luisito stared and waved.

  “What happened to you?” Tommy asked when she had left. “First time I’ve seen you speechless. You like her or something?”

  Luisito just nodded and stared.

  “She is Sherry Jones,” Tommy said. “She goes to my school and is on the soccer team. All the boys in my class like her, but they think she is a bit stuck up.”

  “Stuck to what?” asked Luisito.

  “No, what I meant is that … she thinks she is all that,” said Tommy.

  “All what?” Luisito asked.

  “She ignores most of the boys, so they think she isn’t very nice, comprendes?” said Tommy.

  “Yes, I get it,” Luisito said. “She has the most beautiful red hair.”

  “Hey, speaking about soccer, do you want to try out with me this year?” Tommy said.

  “Maybe,” Luisito replied. “Her name is Che-rrrr-y?”

  “No,” Tommy said laughing. “Softer on the shhhh and don’t roll your r’s.”

  Wow, I will have to practice that one, Luisito thought. What ever happened to all the Marias I used to know, he wondered.

  He wrote to Abuela that night and told her he had met the most beautiful girl with ginger hair and sparkling green eyes. He hoped he would hear back from Abuela soon. He knew he had to deliver the message she had whispered in his ear right before they left Cuba.

  “Tell the Cuban priest at the Our Lady of Charity shrine in Miami this,” she had said,”Exodus 32:1–35. It’s a Bible verse. Memorize it. Also, tell him that his mother awaits him at the Italian Embassy.”

  When he had arrived in Maryland, Luisito had written Abuela’s message down and hidden the piece of paper under his mattress. He was afraid that as time passed he would mix up the numbers or forget something. What could it all possibly mean?

  16 DIECISEIS

  Summer in the United States is wonderful, Luisito thought. In Cuba there was always work to be done, but here Luisito and his cousins slept in, spent the day watching summer TV programs, played outside, and watched TV again until late at night.

  During the day the adults were at work. Luisito felt so grown up. In Cuba, even when he stayed by himself he always had a neighbor come by to check up on him. Rosie did have two rules: no guests over while the adults were not home, and Sonia was not to drive them anywhere without permission. These were rules that his seventeen-year-old cousin didn’t take very well, as the boys could tell by the disco music playing full blast in her bedroom.

  “There she goes again!” Tommy said from the black vinyl reclining chair next to the TV. “Turn it down!” he shouted. “I can’t hear Gilligan’s Island!”

  “Disco music is much better than that TV program,” Sonia yelled as she lowered the music playing on her eight-track stereo. Then she came out to the living room, dancing and pointing alternately down to the ground and up to the sky. “It’s Saturday Night Fever, baby!”

  “Great, when she lowers the music the program ends,” Tommy said. “I am so bored!”

  Luisito couldn’t understand how his cousin could be bored with all the games he owned, plus all the great television programs.

  “I’m going to call my friends from the neighborhood,” Tommy said.

  “Didn’t your mother say we couldn’t have anyone over?” Luisito said.

  “I am not going to let them inside the house. We can play basketball outside,” he said.

  “Okay, that sounds good,” Luisito answered. Tommy started calling his friends, and before long they were ringing the doorbell.

  “This is my cousin from Cuba. His name is L-e-w-i-s. He wil
l be starting school with us,” Tommy said. “Lewis, these are my friends Bill, Steve, and Allen.”

  “Neat.” “Cool.” “Awesome,” said each of the boys.

  The name Lewis sounded strange to Luisito. I guess that’s the way Luis is pronounced in English, he thought.

  “Hi!” Luisito said to them.

  “Where is Cuba, anyway?” one of the boys asked Luisito.

  Luisito remained silent. Of course he understood what the boy was saying, but he was still self-conscious about speaking English.

  “He doesn’t speak English very well,” Tommy answered.

  “What does he speak, Cubanese?” asked Bill, the tallest one of the three.

  “Spanish,” said Tommy. “He came in a raft from Cuba.”

  “Cool!” said Allen, the boy with curly hair and dark skin.

  “So, where did you say Cuba was?” Steve asked as he dribbled the basketball.

  “It’s an island about ninety miles from Florida in the Caribbean,” Tommy said. “That’s where my parents were born.”

  “That’s cool. Can you play?” Bill said, tossing the basketball to Luisito. Luisito dribbled his way past all three. He jumped in the air and made a shot into the basket.

  “He can play, all right!” Allen said.

  “Hey, Lewis, I’m open,” Steve called.

  Luisito was not used to hearing his name pronounced this way so he didn’t react at first.

  “Lewis!” Steve continued to shout. Luisito passed him the ball, and he made the shot.

  They continued to play for the next thirty minutes, Steve and Luisito against Tommy and Bill. Allen was taking a break drinking soda and acting like the referee when he noticed something strange at the opposite end of the block.

  “What are you looking at?” Steve asked, glancing at a white Ford Granada parked by one of the houses.

  “Mike’s dad doesn’t own a Ford, does he?” Allen said, pointing.

  “Where is Mike, anyway?” Steve asked.

  “He’s away for summer camp,” Tommy said. “You know, in New York, where he goes every year.”

  “Whatever, let’s keep playing,” Bill said, throwing the ball to Luisito.

  “Wait, guys,” Allen said. “I think there is a man inside the car. I just saw a head with a baseball cap pop up from the back seat and take a picture of us!”

  “That’s crazy!” Tommy said. “I don’t see anyone. Let’s go with our bikes and check it out!”

  Tommy, Allen, and Steve jumped on their bikes and headed toward the car.

  All of a sudden someone sprang up in the front seat. The car swerved around, driving over the curb as it sped away.

  “Wow, did you see that?” Tommy said.

  “Weird!” Bill exclaimed.

  “We scared him off!” Allen said.

  Luisito walked slowly behind because he didn’t have a bike.

  “I’m actually hungry,” he said nervously. “Let’s have lunch.”

  “Yeah, that is a good idea,” Tommy said. They all went back to Tommy’s front porch.

  “Why do you think they were taking a picture of us?” Bill said.

  “Some weirdo, probably,” Allen said.

  “Well, I’m getting hungry too. I’m heading home,” Bill said. “Hey, Lewis, nice meeting you!”

  “It’s Luis,” Luisito said. It sounded like loo-EES, but his new friends had a hard time picking up on the pronunciation.

  That night during dinner, Tommy and Luisito were eager to tell the story of the strange men hiding in the car. Elena and Miguel looked at them with concern.

  “And we scared them off!” Tommy said with a mouth full of picadillo.

  “You should not have chased them. They could have hurt you,” José said.

  “They could be robbers spying on empty homes!” Rosie said. “I don’t think it is safe for you boys to play outside while we are not home.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Tommy said. “I’ve always played outside. I’ve gone as far as the back woods and nothing has ever happened to me.”

  “Well, we haven’t seen burglars in our neighborhood before,” she said.

  “You should ask the neighbors if they have seen those cars here before,” José said, looking at Rosie.

  “The other day someone followed us in the store and to a fast-food restaurant,” Rosie said. “This neighborhood seems to be changing. Some very strange things are happening.”

  “Mom, there is nothing wrong with the neighborhood,” Sonia said. “It was obvious, the creepy guy was after me.”

  “Yeah, you are just his type,” Tommy said laughing. “Creepy!”

  “Stop it, you two,” Rosie said.

  Tommy and Sonia were smiling at each other, but the adults were quite serious. Elena and Miguel, especially, didn’t take the news of someone following the family very lightly.

  Luisito had caught half of the car’s license plate and he would be on the lookout for the other half. He had an eerie feeling he would be seeing that car again.

  17 DIECISIETE

  The two Hispanic-looking men in the car sped away. Antonio, who had slick greased hair and bad acne, was driving. Jorge had longer hair in a ponytail and was wearing a Yankees baseball cap and sunglasses. They had taken the pictures they needed, and now they couldn’t wait to develop them in their makeshift darkroom.

  “The boy looks like he has lived here all his life,” said Antonio.

  “Who wouldn’t adjust easily to this good life?” Jorge said, laughing.

  “Has the thought of defecting ever crossed your mind?” Antonio asked bluntly.

  It actually had crossed Jorge’s mind many times but he wasn’t about to tell Antonio that. Even though he had worked with Antonio for years, he didn’t trust him. He didn’t trust anyone. Anyone in Cuba could rat on anyone else to rise in the government. The Communist Party rewarded and encouraged this type of behavior. Jorge himself had gotten this great job infiltrating the United States by spying on fellow Cubans and turning them in. It was just his way of surviving and providing for his family, he told himself. He would defect in a minute except that it was too complicated to get his whole family out.

  “Never!” Jorge said, smiling. “The Cuban government gives us all we need. Imagine if I came to this country and I had to start bagging groceries or mopping restaurant floors.”

  “I am with you on that,” Antonio said after a long pause. “The Cuban government is good to us and our families. This assignment is the best job in the world!”

  They parked their car at the downtown apartment they had rented in Baltimore.

  “What do you think about the American who is following them?” Jorge asked. “FBI or CIA?”

  “Who cares?” Antonio shot back quickly. “We got the pictures. That is what the people back home needed. We haven’t committed any crimes. They can’t do anything to us.”

  “Do you think they will be on our trail?”

  “We will clean up this apartment and move on to our place in Miami soon. We can change our appearance a bit,” Antonio said. “How would I look as a blond?”

  “Pretty ugly!” Jorge said, laughing. Yet he was sure this assignment would not be an easy one. It was one of those feelings.

  18 DIECIOCHO

  The weekend before school started Luisito packed all his new supplies and laid out his clothes for Monday.

  “Boy, you are ahead of the game!” Tommy said when he stepped into their room. He still had everything scattered in his closet.

  Sunday night Luisito went to bed early. He had an uneasy feeling about his first day of school. He had spent the previous night asking Tommy questions about high school.

  Back in Cuba, Luisito knew everyone from school because they all lived in the same neighborhood. At least, he thought, his cousins would be there and the boys from his new neighborhood. That wasn’t so bad. He realized he knew a few people already. As Tommy had pointed out, he was better off than most people who move into a new town.

  It
seemed that he had only been asleep a few minutes when his alarm rang. He jumped quickly out of bed and dressed in his alligator shirt, jeans, and new sneakers. He went straight to the bathroom to wash his face and gel his hair as the barber had taught him.

  He then ran downstairs, where his parents were already eating breakfast.

  “¡El primero día de colegio!” his mom said excitedly, referring to the first day of school.

  “Yes, we start school today. Bummer,” Tommy said as he came into the kitchen still in his pajamas. “I love to sleep in during the summer.”

  “He is such a dormilón,” José said, patting his son in the back.

  “Education is important,” Luisito’s father said. “In this country, you have the opportunity to be whatever you want and be successful.”

  Luisito placed his new book bag by the door. He ate his breakfast carefully so as not to get dirty.

  “¿No quieres más?” Rosie asked, like always.

  “No, thanks. I don’t want anything else to eat. I am full,” Luisito said, patting his stomach.

  Sonia came rushing down the stairs. She was wearing a light blue headband that matched her blouse and a wide belt with a big, shiny silver buckle in front. She actually looked very pretty, Luisito thought.

  “If you need to you can always take that belt off and use it for security measures,” her dad joked.

  “Funny, Dad!” she said, pouring orange juice in her glass. “It’s the fashion.”

  Luisito went to the bathroom to take one more look in the mirror. He wanted to pinch himself. Was this really him? He looked so different—he felt so different.

  “Let’s go!” he heard Sonia yell.

  “Wait, honey, let me take a picture of you all!” Rosie said.

  The three of them posed for the picture.

  “Isn’t this great!” Luisito said to Tommy. He never even owned a camera in Cuba. Tommy gave him a strange look.

  “Come on, Mom, take the picture so we can go,” Tommy pleaded.

  “Oh, pleeeease, Mom, hurry,” Sonia said. “She does this every year,” she told Luisito, rolling her eyes.