by Matt Day
On race days, one would still see lots of swimsuit attired young ladies and young men playing on the sand, but their focus was on the cars! As he walked back to the starting line, he marveled at the cars: a 1951 Chrysler, stripped down with numbers and advertisements painted all over it; a 1953 Oldsmobile, no back seat, and a roll bar installed for added safety; and then some of the newer vehicles – the 1955 Plymouth Fury and 1955 Ford Fairlane. He saw several Edsel models, but most of them appeared to have been disqualified, as none of them were making their way towards the starting line.
He kept his eyes open for young Jimmy, having received a fairly good description of him from his parents, and a small picture that was taken two years ago tucked in his shirt pocket.
Near the starting line, he was shocked to see Carmelita and her daughter arguing with Mateo. As Charlie approached the trio, he noticed one of the young men from the Cuban group at the café standing off to the side with a smug look upon his face. The man with the thin mustache was glaring at Carmelita, and Charlie felt anger begin to build in his gut.
“Is there a problem?” he inquired, having snuck up on the trio, so intense was their discussion.
Carmelita looked up and her initial response was to tell him to go away and mind his own business. She could deal with her son. She’d been doing so for years. Opening her mouth, she was amazed at the words that came out. Before she could stop herself, she asked for help, “Mateo was hanging out with that man over there. I don’t like his shifty eyes and have forbidden him to have any contact with the man or his friends.”
“Friends?” Charlie inquired, glancing around and noticing the other men that had been in the café standing a little ways off, obviously transacting business with several other young men about Mateo’s age. He watched as the man with the prominent scar giving exaggerated an handshake to one of the men, appearing to be exchanging money for something – more than likely they were purchasing drugs from the men.
Charlie turned his attention to one of the other men; this one was shorter than his friends, maybe only standing 5’5” tall. This man, Shorty, wasn’t as clever when it came to hiding his actions. Charlie watched as money was exchanged for small plastic bags of what he assumed contained marijuana. Man, what was this kid getting himself into? Turning back to look at the young man in question, he leveled him with his best adult stare and dared him with his eyes to look away. Mateo held his gaze, rebellion evident not only on his face but in his stance.
“Mateo, I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I think your Mom is probably right this time around. That guy over there is bad news.” Charlie didn’t want to disclose his suspicion that the man was connected to the Cuban mafia, nor the fact that he had just witnessed a drug sale, but he also didn’t want to see Mateo get mixed up with men like him.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” came the belligerent reply.
“Mateo! You will apologize, right now!” Carmelita had never been so embarrassed in her life, and gave Charlie an apologetic smile.
“No, mama! I won’t apologize. It’s time you realized that I’m a man and can make my own decisions!”
Chapter 16
Charlie saw the tears that sprang from Carmelita’s eyes, and hurried to her defense. Someone needed to teach this little punk some manners, and right now! “Now you owe your mother an apology. She’s concerned about your safety, and you would do well to heed her advice. Whether you want to or not! And a man never talks to his mother the way you just did. Never!”
“Bah! I’m going home!” Mateo threw his hands up in the air and stalked off towards the parking lot as the others watched him. When the Cuban man started to go after him, Charlie hollered after him, running to catch up to Mateo, effectively shutting down whatever the Cuban had planned to do.
“Hurry, Carmen! We mustn’t let Mateo leave like this.” Carmelita picked up her pace, mentally cursing the sand that filled her shoes as she hurried after her son and Charlie.
“Mateo! Hold up there.” Charlie didn’t miss the fact that the Cuban man backed off upon hearing Charlie call after the young man. What he did miss was the Cuban being joined by the others from the café, watching with narrowed gazes as Charlie caught up to Mateo and quietly urged him to wait for his mother and sister.
“It’s your responsibility, as the man of the house, to look after your mother and sister. Leaving them on the beach, with no way home is a cowardly thing to do, and I don’t think you’re a coward.”
Mateo felt embarrassed at having this stranger point out a major mistake on his part. He had been just about to abandon his mother and sister on the beach. If his father were still alive, he would have been so ashamed of him. Bowing his head, he quietly asked his father for forgiveness before turning and then asking the same of his mother and sister once they caught up.
“I’m sorry, mama. Forgive me?”
“Of course.” Carmelita hugged her son close, thankful that this crisis had been avoided.
Mateo was embarrassed for Charlie to have been a witness to his failure, but when the older man didn’t rub it in his face; he began to look at him in a new light. Maybe he wasn’t such a stuffy old guy after all.
Carmelita turned to Charlie, tears brimming in her eyes, but a smile on her face, “Thank you. Please won’t you join us for lunch?”
Charlie was taken aback by the invitation. He had dated a few women since his wife’s passing, but he couldn’t remember ever having one invite him over for dinner. They usually expected him to treat them to a night on the town, which he didn’t mind so much.
Looking back at the masses of people gathered on the sandy beach to watch the race, he then turned back to look at her once more, making his decision, and slowly nodding his head. He’d never find Jimmy in these massive crowds. He saw Wally heading towards him and waved him over.
He waited for Wally to join him before asking, “Did you find anything worth noting?”
“Nah, there’s just too many people down there.” Wally sounded disgusted and Charlie laughed at the look upon his face. “Well, you don’t seem to have found Jimmy, although you did find a beautiful woman. Trust you to get sidetracked when you’re supposed to be working!”
Charlie looked at Carmelita, liking the way she blushed at having been on the receiving end of a compliment. “As you can see, I certainly did find something on the beach. Wally, may I introduce you to Carmelita, her daughter Carmen, and son Mateo.”
Wally shook each of their hands, “Nice to meet you.” Turning back to Charlie, he told him, “I saw a couple of my bowling buddies down there. We were thinking about heading over to get something to drink, you interested?”
Charlie watched Carmelita’s eyes narrow at the reference to drinking, and hid his smile. “Nah, I’m good. You go on ahead.”
Wally smiled, “I think I will. You come up with any other brilliant ideas, about where that kid might be hiding, you let me know. I’ll have one of the guys run me home later.”
“Have fun.” Charlie watched Wally hurry back to where his buddies were waiting, waving at them both in greeting.
“So, is that lunch invitation still on the table?” he inquired of Carmelita, leaning down close to whisper in her ears only, “By the way, Wally and his buddies are teetotalers. Just in case you were interested. And I don’t drink alcohol, not anymore, but you already know that, don’t you?”
Carmelita once again felt ashamed at her judgmental attitude where Charlie was concerned and nodded her head, giving him a small smile in return. “Yes, I hope you’re hungry.”
“That I am. Why don’t I follow you?” Charlie offered.
Carmelita smiled and nodded her head, handing her keys to Mateo who took them with a big grin. “Don’t get lost,” he told Charlie before heading off towards the family car at a slight trot.
Carmelita looked after her son and daughter with a smile, “Don’t worry. He’s a good driver, and always goes the speed limit. You should have no problem keeping up.�
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“Good. See you in a few minutes.” Charlie watched her walk away, heading towards his own vehicle once he saw her get inside the car.
He didn’t bother lowering the top down, but simply pulled out, intent on following the young man and proving he could keep up. As he headed north on A1A, he didn’t see the black sedan that pulled out behind him.
It wasn’t until he had travelled several blocks that the car following him became a concern. He tried to see the identity of the driver or passenger, but the glare from the sun made it impossible to see anything in the rearview mirror except the fact that there was another car back there.
Slowing down slightly, he noticed the other car matched his pace, rather than speeding off around him. Very curious.
When the car was still following him as he followed Mateo into their small subdivision, Charlie decided that he would lead them on a little goose chase before doubling back to Carmelita’s house. However, when he slowed down to discuss his plans with her, the other car quickly passed him and sped away.
Deciding his imagination was certainly hard at work; he shrugged it off and parked the car beneath the grove of palm trees at the edge of the driveway.
Chapter 17
Carmelita had a very nice home, with a red tile roof, stucco exterior walls, and a neat and tidy little yard. “You have a nice place here,” he told her as he ambled up the driveway, the layer of crushed shell gravel crunching beneath his shoes.
“Thank you. Mateo does all of the yard work for me.”
“Mateo, it looks good,” Charlie tipped his chin towards the yard.
Mateo smiled in acknowledgement of the compliment before pulling up the garage door and heading indoors.
Glancing back at Carmelita, he inquired, “What’s for lunch?”
“Arroz con pollo.”
Figuring she had done that just to test his knowledge of Spanish, he easily translated it for her, “Chicken and rice. My favorite.”
“You speak Spanish?” Carmelita asked, amazed that he had understood her.
“Not really. I’ve picked up a few words here and there, but you people talk really fast.”
“We do? How about you Americans? And what’s with all of the different accents? That’s more confusing than the language is itself. And don’t even get me started on the different slang terms, they seem to change hour by hour!”
“I couldn’t agree with you more. Sometimes when I hear people from other parts of the country speak, I feel like I’m been transported to another world.” Charlie shared a laugh with her, “And the slang is a kid thing. One grows out of it, eventually.”
Carmelita nodded, “So you say. Come on inside. Lunch will only take a few minutes to finish up.”
“Good.” Charlie followed her indoors, wondering how he was going to tactfully decline most of her meal. A few bites of rice and beans his system could handle. An entire meal of the starchy foods, foods that his body would immediately turn into sugar, and send him into a diabetic state of shock, was more than he had bargained for today.
That had been one of the hardest adjustments he’d had to make upon returning home after the war. His wife had loved to bake, as did his mother. Having to refuse their cooking had caused more than one hurt look to cross his wife’s face. It had taken her several months before she accepted that he would love nothing more than to partake of her chocolate-tiered cake, but to do so would put his health, and possibly his life, at risk.
In the years before her death, she had become a great helpmate in maintaining a proper diabetic diet, changing her cooking styles to accommodate his needs. His mother had followed suit, and now at all family dinners, there were always plenty of sugar-free, diabetic friendly choices from which to choose.
He took Carmelita’s advice and made himself at home in her front room, looking at the family pictures scattered across the mantel of the fireplace. He smiled when he came to the pictures of her holding her children when they were much younger.
He recalled similar pictures he had tucked away of his wife and their daughter. Pictures he had put away in boxes after the funeral, not wanting any reminders of what he’d lost. Now, looking at the pictures of Carmelita with her children and deceased husband displayed proudly for all to see, he felt ashamed that he had locked his family away from everyone.
He would locate those boxes and set a few pictures out when he returned home later today. Remembering his wife and daughter was something he could do. It was something he needed to do. Shaking off those somber thoughts, he wandered into the kitchen, sniffing in appreciation as he did so.
He watched as she finished cooking the meal, adding some fresh cilantro to the rice and draining the chicken. When she started to carry the various bowls to the table, he couldn’t resist offering his assistance, “Here, let me carry those.”
Charlie took the plate of rice and beans to the table and then returned for the plate of chicken. “It smells delicious.”
“Thank you. Let me go get the kids and then we are ready to eat.”
Charlie watched her disappear down the hallway and heard her muted voice instructing her children that it was time for lunch and their presence was requested at the table.
Mateo and Carmen came right away, grabbing plates, silverware, napkins, and glasses of water – all of which they deposited on the kitchen table. “Thank you, niños.”
Charlie smiled at her habit of switching between English and Spanish. She had only done it when she was addressing her children, or upset in some way. It seemed she also did so when she was expressing softer emotions as well.
Charlie found himself sitting directly across from Mateo, with Carmen on his left and Carmelita on his right. When both girls held their hands out, waiting for him to take hold of them, he realized what they were waiting on him for prayer.
Clasping their hands, he bowed his head as Carmelita offered up a quiet and simple prayer for their meal. “Father, thank you for providing the food which we are about to eat. Please bless it to the nourishment of our bodies, in Christ's name, Amen.” Charlie noticed that all of the occupants at the table crossed themselves before and after the prayer. Good Catholic people.
Charlie echoed “Amen” before watching her pass him the bowl of rice and beans. Taking only a small spoonful, he became aware of three puzzled sets of eyes looking upon him.
Chapter 18
Knowing that some explanation for his eating habits was in order, he explained, “Sorry, but I can only handle a little bit when it comes to rice and beans.”
“Are you afraid my mother is a bad cook?” Carmen asked shyly.
Charlie sat up straight, shaking his head, “Not at all. I’m sure your mother is an excellent cook, but I’m a diabetic, therefore, I have to really watch my carbohydrate and sugar intake.”
“Oh…”
“You have to stick yourself with needles?” Mateo asked, conveying that to do so took Charlie up a notch in his book.
“Charlie, you should have said something. I could have easily made something else for lunch.”
Charlie acknowledged Carmen’s concern with a nod, gave Mateo a bigger nod with a rueful grin to back it up, and then spoke directly to Carmelita, “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to put you to any extra work on my account. The meal is great; I just have to be careful what I eat.”
“Are you sure?” Carmelita had often taken care of diabetic patients who had not been as diligent about taking care of themselves, and many times the end result was the loss of a toe, or even an entire foot. Many of them ended their lives without their eyesight, in kidney failure, and with such poor circulation, they had lost their extremities. In her opinion, it was a dreadful disease and she only hoped that the researchers were able to find better ways to manage the disease in the near future.
“I’m positive. It all smells terrific.”
“Thank you.”
Charlie watched a blush suffuse her cheeks and was enthralled by it. How could someone who t
ook care of sick people on a daily basis, and was raising two teenagers on her own, still have the ability to blush?
Turning his attention to the kids, he inquired about school, and their likes and dislikes. Carmelita watched him engage her kids, pleased to see even Mateo making an effort to be civil, and have a normal conversation with an adult. He’d become increasingly moody over the last several weeks, and she had begun to grow concerned that he was involving himself in behaviors she wouldn’t approve of. His recent association with a kid at school who was caught with possession of drugs, and then the interaction she had witnessed with the Cuban man on the beach had her concerned about her son’s potential lack of responsibility and trustworthiness. Something she didn’t care for at all.
Tossing aside those worries for the moment, she joined in the conversation, pleased when her children excused themselves from the table and offered to clean up the kitchen.
“Nice kids you have.”
“Thank you. Would you like to sit in the garden for a bit? It’s much cooler outside in the shade than it is in the house this time of day.”
Charlie looked around and then noticed that she had nothing more than a few fans to help keep the house cool. “Have you looked into having an air conditioner installed?”
Carmelita smiled at Charlie and shook her head, “Not on my salary. I have two teenagers unless you didn’t recognize those well-behaved young people who had lunch with us. I’m hoping that at least one of them will attend college, and college costs money.”
“You went to nursing school in Cuba?” Charlie asked, wanting to know more about the lovely woman sitting next to him.
Carmelita got a faraway look in her eyes, “Yes. Cuba was once a nice place to live. Before Batista!” Carmelita crossed herself and then whispered a quick “Hail Mary!” beneath her breath. “Luckily, I didn’t have any trouble passing the exam here in Florida, so getting my nursing license in America was fairly easy. I don’t know how I would have supported the children if that hadn’t happened.”
