The Ramos Brothers Trust Castro and Kennedy
Page 19
“Well, I’m glad we’re finally having a chance to talk away from school or the park.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, how much we seem to get along.”
“Really? Me too!”
Alberto then turned to look back at his brother. He seemed to be enjoying Amanda’s company, as they were caught up in a laugh.
“It’s true,” Juan told the story. “My friend Miguel fell right out of that tree.”
“So what were you guys doing that high up anyways?” Amanda asked.
“Oh, you know, seeing how high we could get. Seeing if we could view the city better.”
“Well, you’re lucky you didn’t fall, too.”
“No, I was smarter than those guys. I never went up.”
Amanda laughed, her natural brown curls bouncing at her shoulders. Her moss green dress was as sexy as the outfits of her friends. “So you were lying to me?”
“No, I’m just telling you the story from the perspective of the person on the ground, which happened to be me, the smart one.”
“Well, I think you made a smart move by not climbing up.”
When the couples reached the end of that stretch of Miami Beach, Sharkey pointed with his chin that he and Josephine were headed to Dulceria’s to order their cones. The others followed. The sun had completely vanished under the horizon and only a faint afterglow of platinum light shown out towards the end of the ocean, out there someplace to where Cuba stretched like a warped plank of wood in the Caribbean.
They ordered their snow cones, and Juan paid for everyone’s with the money Senator Smathers had given them yesterday evening. They then headed out to the breaker rocks to enjoy the sweet flavoring of their cones’ slushy ice: strawberry and lime, blackberry and lemon, pineapple and cherry. When they were finished, it was dark enough for Sharkey to make the first move. He tilted his head to kiss Josephine and she returned the gesture. Alberto and Guadalupe did the same. But Juan made no move towards Amanda, and she sensed he wasn’t going to. Because she enjoyed his company, she didn’t mind. Hearing the other couples making out, Juan took Amanda’s hand and led her off the rocks and back out to the beach where the waves raced in over their feet and then ebbed back in a soft swoosh.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “We just met, and I don’t want to be too forward.”
“It’s all right.”
“Can I just hold your hand?”
“Sure.”
Then all at once he started talking about his mother and how he and his brother would never understand her, how in Cuba they lived in a big house and how their father was a good dad but was never home because he always had to work and couldn’t find time to see them much. He told her about how Cuca was a great surrogate mom, how she took care of them since they were babies, how she nurtured them with magic medicine when they had scarlet fever, and how they loved her.
“The problems we’ve had with our mother made us have this strange connection to Castro as we grew up. He seemed to pop up everywhere in our lives. We went to visit Cuca’s parents in Guardalavaca one year, and her cousin Victor, who lived on the beach, knew Fidel and told us stories about him. And the next day, we see this guy on the beach, and guess what? It’s Fidel! Then a year later, I’m on this field trip at the University of Havana and I got to meet Fidel in the law library. When we were younger, our family doctor moved from Havana to become a rebel in Fidel’s movement. And you won’t believe this either, Alberto and I had this friend, Benito, his father was fighting for Fidel in the Sierra Maestra. And me and Alberto and Benito tried running off to join the rebels in the mountains . . .”
“Wow, that’s quite a story. A lot of coincidence?”
“Is it?” asked Juan. “Because it gets better. After Batista fled and Fidel came into Havana on a tank, I was with Alberto and my dad when the rebels entered the city, and Fidel noticed me in the crowd. I swear it. And here’s what’s even crazier. You know Fidel’s right-hand-man, Che Guevara. Well, Alberto met him, out-of-the-blue, when we were vacationing in Mexico. I know this all sounds bizarre, but all this stuff really happened, and on the day we saw Fidel on the tank, Che was beside him and he recognized Alberto in the crowd that day. I swear, all this stuff is the truth.”
“What do you make of it all?” asked Amanda.
“It’s just coincidence, I guess, like you said,” he acknowledged. “Still, it makes me think how small the world is, and it makes me realize why we came to trust Fidel in an odd way. It’s like he’s linked to us, keeping us attached to Cuba because our father’s still stuck there . . . I’m sorry for rambling on.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s interesting.”
They stared out at the ocean. Its rippling surface was an infinite glittery layer of sequined fabric. Breaking their concentration, Sharkey called out to them that they were headed to the suite now. Juan again took Amanda’s hand and they met up with the others.
They all moved to the sidewalk and dusted off the sticky sand from their feet and put on their shoes and sandals. Everyone was quiet as they walked to the curb, and Sharkey hailed a taxi. They squeezed in, five in the back seat and big boy Sharkey in the front. The drive only took a few minutes, and Sharkey paid the fare when the cab pulled up in front of the DuPont Plaza and they all jumped out.
They entered the ground level where the shops were at and went up the escalator to the second floor mezzanine. From there they took the elevator to the suites on the twelfth floor. Sharkey took the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He swung it open and extended his arm in a gesture of hospitality for his friends to enter before him.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, kicking off his shoes and heading to the kitchen. “I’ll get glasses and drinks.”
“This is something else, the view from up here,” said Josephine, going to one of the windows and staring out at the bay and the yachts with their lights turned on, bouncing on the sea.
“Donde está el baño? Where’s the bathroom?” asked Guadalupe.
“Down the hall, to the right,” hollered Sharkey from the kitchen.
“You need some help, Sharkey?” asked Alberto.
“I got it,” said Sharkey. The sounds of glasses clinking, ice tumbling, and a cork popping could be heard. “I’m bringing out both alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.”
Sharkey came from the kitchen carrying a large stainless steel tray with six glasses, some full of ice. On the tray were bottles of Pepsi, Root Beer, and an uncorked bottle of moon-sparkling champagne.
Sharkey poured a glass of champagne for himself and Josephine. Alberto had tried the stuff at Emilia’s Quinciñera and didn’t care for the taste, so Guadalupe followed his lead and took the Pepsi while Juan and Amanda had the Root Beer.
They sat on the couch and sipped their drinks. Sharkey got up and turned on the television and then went to one of the windows and opened it wide.
“Who’s ready for a drag?” he asked and pulled out of his back pocket a clear-plastic bag of a leafy, dried-out green substance.
“I thought you were joking yesterday at the park,” said Josephine.
“And I told you ayer at the park, not to worry about it. You should always take me at my word. Haven’t you learned that yet?”
He was at the table working with some wraps and shaking the grainy contents of the bag into each wrap. Once he had the first one rolled and licked, he yanked a lighter out of the other pocket in the back of his pants and struck the tiny flame. He lit the joint and then proceeded to take a long drag. Josephine had risen from the couch and joined Sharkey at the table. Taking the reefer out of his hand, she started dancing around the room.
“Go on girl, it’s good stuff,” he said, watching her twirl with the joint in her hand.
Amanda had gotten up from her seat beside Juan and headed to the table to get a closer look. Sharkey was fixing another one.
“Can I have it?” Amanda asked.
“Sure, but is this your first time?�
�
“Yeah. Why?”
“Just don’t smoke the whole thing,” he said, lighting the next one for her.
She took it and immediately sucked in a huge breath. She felt good for a moment and then began to cough, almost dropping the joint.
“Careful, Amanda. Not such a big inhale the first time. Little puffs. It will calm you. Here, take this ash tray over to the couch and share with Juan.”
“No, it’s all right, Sharkey,” said Juan.
“That’s cool. No one has to smoke if they don’t want.” Sharkey looked over at Alberto and Guadalupe. “You guys want one?”
Alberto turned to his date. They returned grimaces at each other. Alberto then made the decision. “No thanks. We’re good, Sharkey.”
“No problema,” he said. “I’ll fix this one for me. There’s plenty left for another day.”
Sharkey came back to the couch with his joint, a smaller one than the other two that Josephine and Amanda were smoking.
“So what else are we going to do tonight?” asked Juan.
“Whatever you want. It’s a big suite,” said Sharkey, leaning back and enjoying his joint. “There’s plenty of rooms. You can make yourselves comfortable in one of them, or you can go into the kitchen and find something to eat. You can flip through the movies on the TV. Whatever anyone wants to do, go right ahead.”
As he inhaled with pleasure, he looked over at Josephine and nodded. She had finished half of hers, and she had a naughty grin on her face. The right corner of her mouth curled up slightly.
“Okay, guys, Josephine and I are heading to the bedroom and closing the door. That makes our room off limits. But like I said, enjoy whatever you want. If you want to go, that’s fine too. I’ll just thank you now for coming.”
He got up and took Josephine by the hand and led her to one of the bedrooms. They started giggling and draping their arms on each other as the door slammed.
The Ramos brothers were left with their dates on the couch. The ice had melted in their drinks, diluting their Pepsis and Root Beers. Amanda got talkative, as she was completely mellowed out. Juan went to sit next to her again.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Right? I feel really relaxed,” she drawled.
He turned to his brother. “What do you want to do?”
“We’re not ready to go home,” said Alberto, holding Guadalupe’s hand. “We’re going to let you and Amanda have the whole living room to yourselves.”
“All right,” said Juan, examining his brother.
Alberto and Guadalupe stood up. He took her gently by the fingers and led her to one of the other rooms. Smiling, they closed the door without a sound. Juan and Amanda sat alone on the couch.
“You know, I’ve had a nice night talking to you,” he told her. “You’ve been really kind to me. A good listener.”
“Thanks,” she said, her eyes drowsy.
The thick smell of pot seemed to cling to the motes in the air.
“Can I tell you something,” he said.
“Tell me something,” she drawled.
“You’re a really beautiful girl and all, and I’m sorry I didn’t want to kiss you. It’s just that . . . How do I say this? I’ve never talked about this before. Not to anyone. Not my parents. Not Alberto. No one.”
Amanda’s focus seemed to return in an instant as she sensed Juan about to say something important, something confessional. She sat up and gave him her sober attention. “What were you saying? I’m sorry. I’m listening.”
“I’m not sure you want to hear this. I’m not even sure why I’m asking you to listen. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You’re not. There’s nothing wrong with you. So don’t worry about saying anything.”
“You sure.”
“Yes. Tell me if you want. Keep it to yourself if you’re not ready.”
“Thanks,” he said and leaned in to give Amanda a hug.
They rested on the couch in each other’s arms until they heard Alberto and Guadalupe come out of the room after only a few minutes.
“That didn’t take long,” joked Amanda. “What did you guys do in there that fast?”
“We’re ready to go,” said Alberto, holding Guadalupe’s hand tightly.
Before they left with their dates, Juan decided to knock on the door where Sharkey and Josephine had disappeared a half hour earlier.
“Thanks for coming,” shouted Sharkey from inside. “Just lock the door on the way out.”
It was a long walk, the four miles from the DuPont Plaza back to their neighborhood. But the crush of the evening air felt cool and their conversations pleasant with romance for both couples. Pearl white stars dotted the vastness of the indigo sky. That evening both brothers learned something about themselves. They were proud of each other.
* * *
Chapter 24
After their first date, Alberto and Guadalupe started “going out.” Overnight, it seemed, he became mystified with how she so easily took over his heart and became that rare flower he couldn’t stop staring at in the garden. Still, he struggled with memories of Emilia. She, too, was a flower that kept blooming heartily in the soil of his mind. And every time he picked up his guitar, his divided feelings for both of them filled his thoughts. He realized, however, that when he tried writing canciónes for Guadalupe, they didn’t yet flourish with the passion that came naturally when thinking about Emilia singing one of his songs. Headaches and an uneasy stomach plagued him over how to handle his increasing attraction for Guadalupe against the connection he clung to with Emilia. Deciding to indulge melancholy riffs, he played out his clashing emotions on the guitar, which allowed him to reflect and contemplate, but still he felt unresolved between Emilia and Guadalupe, between which flower he should nurture.
No matter how genuine he believed his feelings for Emilia remained, he decided it was foolish to abandon his interest in Guadalupe. Two months after his arrival in America, he wrote to Emilia. In the letter, he explained how he missed her and how he longed to relive the music they created together, but the situation he found himself facing in America, he said, was whether they would ever see each other again. With only uncertainty clouding the future, he told her that he was seeing someone else. Two weeks later, he received her return letter:
Dear Alberto,
I think about you often. Every day, in fact, you are on my mind. But it’s hard not to talk to other boys, when they insist on talking to me. They show interest in me, so what am I supposed to do? It makes me feel queasy inside, like I’m guilty of breaking a promise to you. Yet I now feel a bit of closure to know that we both can be honest and mature about the situation and move forward with our lives. Thank you for telling me how you’re dealing with our parting. I wouldn’t expect you to wait forever for me without dating new people. Likewise, I wouldn’t think you would be angry that I have chosen to interact with young men who share similar interests as I do. Whatever the future brings, we’ll have to deal with it, if it ever brings us together again.
Best Wishes Always,
Love,
Emilia
After reading her letter, Alberto felt relieved as well as naive that he allowed himself to lose sleep and feel guilty about seeing Guadalupe. It was amazing how after his correspondence with Emilia, in which they both accepted their split, he could so easily let go of her. He even felt bad that he had harbored dual feelings for both her and Guadalupe. He decided his divided feelings were now more unfair to Guadalupe because he was completely involved with her, and she deserved his honest, undivided self. Foolish boy, as if you had a choice, he told himself. Who couldn’t fall in love with Guadalupe’s heart-shaped face and the beauty mark on her right cheek?
Juan’s last half of his senior year in 1959 became a preoccupation with his future. He studied history and law, the Founding Fathers and the Constitution, and theories of human behavior and governance. He devoured books about the justice system and criminal punishment, and he bega
n to think about a future as a lawyer. With college his definite plan after high school, he applied and was accepted to start classes at the University of Miami for the fall semester. Apart from his stellar academic record, Juan was also beginning to discover who and what he was.
Before and after school, when the boys of La Salle and the girls of Immaculata commingled, Juan stayed on the periphery. The only girl he interacted with was Amanda, and her friendship made him more and more comfortable with his quest to discover himself, a process of self-realization that finally became clear.
It was two months before graduation, and Juan had been wondering why one of his senior classmates, Arturo Cantreras, always seemed to be giving him serious stares and sometimes—it was apparent to Juan—intentionally crowding his space. During biology lab one afternoon in late April, two weeks after Juan’s eighteenth birthday, their teacher, Brother Daniel, stepped out of class to run paperwork to the principal’s office. With the classroom left temporarily unmonitored, the star of the Royals’ basketball team that year, a six-foot-four power forward named Colin Materberg, stood up and broke the silence no one wanted to disturb as the class couldn’t believe Brother Daniel actually left the room unsupervised.
“Why’s everyone so quiet?” asked the star of the basketball team.
He then walked over to the rack of test tubes on a lab table and grabbed the longest one and placed it in front of his pants. He then proceeded to parade around the room as if he brandished his unit in his hand. He strutted around the tables in the classroom wiggling the glass tube and uttering the few words he knew in Spanish, “Mira! Look! Mi pinga está grande! It’s big.” As everyone laughed and hooted for Colin to continue, he made huffing and moaning noises as though he was exercising his member to climax. Everyone had notions about Brother Daniel, and it took someone with the popularity of Colin to voice what everyone was thinking: “Mira, Brother Daniel. Quiere usted mi pinga? Don’t you want it?” While most everybody in the class was bursting with laughter, Juan felt a stirring and bulging in his pants. He was aware that he had an attraction towards the school jocks, the fit and lean guys on the basketball team. But that day Colin had no clue that Juan stared at him with deep-seated desire as he clowned around the room with a test tube portrayed as his pecker. Arturo, however, had been watching Juan’s reaction the entire time, and he walked right up next to him and invaded his space, while the class remained entertained with Colin’s antics.