Flight to Freedom (10 page)

Ileana argued that she would always be inexperienced if she remained imprisoned in her own home. Mami defended her, which surprised me, but Papi would not budge. He can be so mean sometimes. Whoever made him the boss? I wish Mami would stand up to him more. She is always skulking around so as not to upset him. I wonder what he will say when he finds out that Mami has learned to drive with Efraín and Tía Carmen. He better not cause a scene. Instead, he better be proud of her. Mami is trying so hard to be brave and to adapt to this new life.

Papi bought a car! It was a big surprise. He didn't say a word to anybody when he and Mami left this morning to run errands. We thought they were going to visit somebody in the hospital because we were not allowed to go along, but the last thing I ever thought could happen was this. Our very own automobile!

It is a 1954 Plymouth station wagon, and Papi bought it from the father of a man who works with him. It is green, and the inside is in good shape for being an old car. The three of us girls fit comfortably in the back. Papi drove us around the block and over to Tío Pablo's, and then everybody took turns going for a ride, even Abuela María, who whooped and hollered like a little girl. After Tía Carmen made
café,
Mami told Papi she had something to show him. He gave her a funny look, and we all went outside to watch as Mami got into the driver's side and took Papi on his own ride. When they returned, he was pale. Papi told Tía Carmen that she had done a good job teaching Mami to drive but that Mami needed more practice making turns. Scared him half to death when she took a right turn going too fast, he said. Tío Pablo and Abuelo Tony punched Papi in the arm and slapped
him on the back. I was surprised but also relieved that he was not angry.

Now that we have a car, I suppose it means that we are not going back to Cuba anytime soon.

There is a new boy in class. He is so cute! Jane nearly faints every time he walks by her. He is Cuban, but he is from somewhere up north. He is in almost all my classes, but I do not dare talk to him. I wouldn't know what to say. Besides, I worry about how I look. One day my face appears normal, like it belongs to me. Other days, I look in the mirror and my nose is too big and my mouth looks crooked and one eye is smaller than the other. I also wish my hair weren't so straight. It droops down over my ears like short wet noodles. Maybe I need another haircut. Or maybe I should grow it out again. Good thing I do not have any pimples. Poor Alina!

When Ileana gets something in her head, she won't let it go. Today again she asked if she could work with Efraín. And again Papi said no. Can I expect any different with my request for the car trip?

I finally asked her about Tommy, and she shrugged her shoulders. “Who would want a girlfriend who can't go anywhere?” she asked me. “I might as well be in jail.” If Tommy isn't her boyfriend anymore, she probably won't participate in any protest marches against the war. Thank goodness! Papi would be very upset if she did something like that.

This is unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable! When I was walking with Abuelo Tony, we ran into that new boy from school. His name is Juan Carlos, and he lives two blocks from my uncle's house. Jane is right. He is very cute, but I am taller than he is. And his voice is kind of squeaky. We talked to him for a few minutes. Actually, Abuelo talked to him, and he was very polite. I was too embarrassed and stared at the cracks in the sidewalk.

We did not see Juan Carlos on our afternoon walk, but Abuelo showed us the parts of a flower from an ixora bush. I already knew their names in Spanish and now, because of Abuelo, I know them in Latin. I suppose soon I will learn them in English, too. Three languages—imagine.

We went to the most fantastic store today. It is called La Tijera and it's on Flagler Street and Twelfth Avenue. Mami and Tía Carmen came here to buy things for the house when we first moved. Everything is made just the way they were in Cuba. We saw Cuban-style mops, wash pans, coffee cups, and aluminum drinking cups to boil milk. I almost felt like I was back on the island. Truth is, of course, no store back on the island would have had so many goods on the shelves. Besides, people would not have been able to buy anything unless they had the correct ration coupon.

Though we looked at a lot of things, we bought only what we needed. Tía Carmen got herself a meat
grinder just like the one she had in Cuba. Mami needed a washboard and a wooden mortar and pestle to smash garlic. She also bought an aluminum mold for flan and a wood plantain-chip maker. I hope Papi doesn't complain that these necessities were a waste of money. Those are usually the first words out of his mouth when we show him any purchase—even toilet paper!

Before we left, Tía Carmen pointed to the men, three brothers, who own the store. They opened it when they realized people like my parents needed household stuff but preferred to buy what they recognized. She said that if you drive around Flagler or Southwest Eighth Street, there are lots of little shops opened by Cubans in the past three or four years. There is a Chinese Cuban restaurant, a religious goods store, several bakeries, and even a botanica that sells supplies for priests of Santeria. I wonder if Papi has seen these shops. If so, what must he think? I know what I think: Those people won't be returning to Cuba anytime soon.

I played dominoes with the grown-ups today and won. I was Papi's partner because Mami was in the kitchen scrubbing the dirty pans from our big Sunday lunch. Usually Tío Pablo and Tía Carmen win because they are very good domino players, and they are also lucky. Efraín and Ileana sometimes play, but they don't pay much attention to the game. Actually, Efraín usually partners with Abuelo Tony, but Abuelo was too tired and took a nap instead. So Efraín convinced Ileana to stop looking through her fashion magazines and be a good cousin—which meant he wanted her as partner. Good cousin or not, the two of them played horribly together. Ileana didn't pay much attention to the game, so she didn't keep track of which player lacked which number. To me, that is the whole challenge of the game.

When we lived in Cuba, my family used to play dominoes every winter Sunday after mass and lunch. Both sets of grandparents and uncles participated. Cousins, too. The matches took hours, especially if only the men played and smoked their cigars and sipped their
café.
Abuela always used to make a flan, and Tía Carmen's specialty was
torejas.

Thinking about all this makes me very hungry. My mouth is watering for the syrup of the
torejas.
I realize I have not eaten any since we arrived in Miami.

Remember the two men in gray suits who took Papi to their office for questioning several months ago? They showed up on our doorstep again tonight, this time with a third man who speaks Spanish. In the middle of us doing homework and Mami and Tía Carmen sewing the sequins on the sweaters, no less.

They were very polite, though. They talked to Papi for almost two hours in the kitchen. Mami could hardly keep her hands steady to thread a needle. After they left, everyone pretended as if nothing had happened. Everyone but Mami, who threw the sweater into her sewing basket and marched out of the room. Papi followed her. When they both returned to the living room, I could tell they had had a fight because Mami's lips were set tight and a vein on Papi's forehead pulsed.

I received another perfect mark on my mathematics test. And Ana Mari was the third-best speller in the spelling bee in her class. She got a yellow ribbon, and Mami showed it off to the whole family.

Tonight at dinner Papi surprised us all by announcing that after much thought he has decided to allow Ileana to work with Efraín at the craft store—
as long as it does not interfere with her studies.
He said that last part as if it were in capital letters. I think Mami knew something about this beforehand, but Ileana and the rest of us were caught off guard. You should have seen Ileana's face. Eyes wide then narrowing with suspicion, she looked like the black beans and rice inside her mouth had turned too hot. As soon as dinner was over, she phoned Efraín. They agreed she would meet him at the craft store after school tomorrow.

Ileana began work today. She came home wearing a white apron and her hair tied back in a bun. She looked very grown-up. She let me watch all the shows I wanted on the television and did not complain to Mami once.

Also today, Mami took her driver's license test and is now allowed to drive the car. She is so proud of herself that she beams like a lighthouse. She is trying to practice as much as she can, driving herself to the Grand Union or to the pharmacy—anywhere to do an errand. She always invites us to come along, but truth is, sometimes I get nervous when she drives. She concentrates so hard on the road and the steering wheel that her face is all scrunched up. She doesn't let us put the radio on, either, or even talk among ourselves. Not at all like Papi, who sometimes drives with his right hand while his left arm hangs out the open window. He has a funny tan line from that.

Finally, another important event: Tío Pablo took the last of his licensing examinations to become a doctor in this country. He won't know the results right away, but he thinks he did well. I hope so. He has studied a lot.

I am trying to help Alina as much as I can with her homework, and she is improving tremendously in math. Her English is also getting better, but since she does not like to read, her vocabulary is limited. At Jane's suggestion, I passed on the Nancy Drew books. Maybe she will be interested in those.

Ileana loves her job. Every night she tells us a story about a customer or about Mr. F. Everybody calls the owner by the first initial of his last name because his name is very long, and we don't know how to pronounce it. Today a woman in a very fancy suit came to the store, and she bought three dozen purse kits with a seashell pattern. She asked them to be shipped to her home in New York. Then she gave both Efraín and Ileana a dollar tip!

I did not walk with Abuelo Tony today because after school Mami asked me to accompany her and Tía
Carmen to a shop where packages of medicine are bundled and sent to Cuba. Our package contained aspirins, vitamins, cotton balls, two pairs of glasses, Mercurochrome, gauze, adhesive strips, a medicine for diarrhea, and a few other vials with names I did not recognize. When I asked Mami how much all that costs to mail, she said, “An eye in your head.” Later, though, she told me that the package was worth every penny because my grandparents cannot find any of those medicines in Cuba. As we were leaving, more and more people were lining up in the store to send their relatives what they need. Tía Carmen said that on Saturdays you cannot even get in the door because it is so busy.

Jane is preparing to have a slumber party for her birthday next month. Mrs. Henderson said Jane can invite five girls for pizza and a sleep-over. I have never been to a slumber party. That is very much an American concept. All my birthday parties in Cuba were at my house on a Sunday afternoon. We ate
croquetas, bocaditos,
and
pastelitos,
and all the family came, even my great-aunts and great-uncles. We played pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey with our cousins and broke a big piñata in the backyard. Remembering those parties
makes me both happy and sad—happy because I had so much fun and sad because I know all the cousins will not be together again for some time.

I have already told Mami about this slumber party and that it involves me sleeping at Jane's house. I explained to her that I would sleep in a sleeping bag borrowed from Mrs. Henderson and that after pizza and punch, all the girls brush and curl each other's hair and paint their nails. (I am not allowed to do that, or pluck my eyebrows, until I am fifteen.) Jane said we will also listen to the radio or the record player, and then dance to the music all we want. Mami had never heard of this type of party and promised to consult with Papi. Well, I know exactly what he is going to say. Why can't she make the decision herself? I think I am going to ask Jane's mother to call and talk to Mami.

I figure that if I am allowed to attend this party and everything turns out right, I can work myself up to the summer car trip. I know I've already planted the seed in both Mami's and Papi's heads. Now I have to wait for it to take root, then let it blossom. I think that's the type of advice Abuelo would give me. I can only hope
Mami has forgotten about us sneaking out in the middle of the night.

Something horrible has happened, but I am not sure what it is. A couple of hours ago, Tío Pablo rushed into the house wanting to know where Papi was. He was frantic. He told Mami to turn on the radio as soon as he walked in the door. A long time passed before we heard a news bulletin that reported several Cuban men had been arrested while leaving Key West in a boat full of weapons heading for Cuba. Tío Pablo wanted to know if Papi had mentioned anything about leaving the country. Mami shook her head and kept wringing her hands until Tío Pablo had her sit down on the living room couch. He told me to serve Mami ice water and stay with her until the rest of the family came to keep us company. He made a few phone calls, and now we are waiting for more news.

I am trying not to think too much about the news reports, but it is difficult for me to concentrate on anything else. My mind wanders right back to what
the radio announcer said. Can my father be one of the seven men taken to prison in Key West? I cannot imagine Papi dressed up as a soldier and getting on a boat to go to Cuba with guns and bombs. And at night, too. That is very dangerous. I like to think of his military training weekends as something he does for practice but not for real.