Mission Libertad

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Mission Libertad Page 5

by Lizette M. Lantigua


  12 DOCE

  Early the next morning, Rosie had planned another outing. Luisito helped José pack the car with some coolers.

  “Are we going to a grocery store today?” Luisito asked eagerly.

  “Nooo … ,” Tommy said, glancing at his father and rolling his eyes. “What is it with you and grocery stores?”

  “We are taking you to Emmitsburg to the shrine of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton,” José said.

  “Since the first time I visited Emmitsburg, I prayed constantly to this saint so that you could safely get out of Cuba some day,” Rosie said, smiling as she sat in the car. “She is the first American-born saint.”

  “Really? Well, let’s go!” Luisito said, thinking that visiting a church would remind him of his dear Abuela.

  When they arrived an hour and a half later, Rosie pulled a cooler out of the trunk. She passed out drinks and pan con timba.

  “Oh, my!” Elena said, putting her hands over her mouth. “I haven’t had pan con timba since I was a little girl!”

  “What is it?” Luisito wanted to know.

  “It’s a sandwich of Cuban bread with sweet guava and cream cheese,” said Miguel, taking a bite from his sandwich and closing his eyes while enjoying the taste.

  “This bread is delicious!” Luisito said as he tried it. “Remember back home how hard our bread was? Is this Cuban bread?”

  “I couldn’t find Cuban bread here in Maryland, but I improvised with this other bread,” Rosie said.

  “Look, up in the air!” Sonia pointed.

  “It’s beautiful,” Luisito said. In the midst of the perfect blue sky, in between the Catoctin Mountains, appeared a gold statue of the Blessed Mother as the Immaculate Conception.

  “There’s a seminary there and the loveliest replica of the grotto of Lourdes in France,” José said.

  “What gardens they have!” said Rosie. “We will show you on another visit.”

  “Oh, my …” Elena said. “My mother was so fond of the Blessed Mother, especially la Caridad del Cobre.”

  If there is anything about religion that Luisito knew, it was la Virgen de la Caridad del Cobre, Our Lady of Charity. In 1612, three young men were caught in a storm in the Bay of Nipe in Cuba. They turned to prayer, and they felt their prayers answered when they saw a beautiful doll-like statue appear floating in the water. The image appeared on a wooden tablet that read, “Yo Soy La Virgen de la Caridad,” meaning: “I am the Virgin of Charity.” The farmers were amazed that the image was not wet or spoiled by the rough seas. They brought the statue to shore and built a beautiful shrine for Mary in the city of El Cobre in the province of Oriente, Cuba. In 1916, Pope Benedict XV declared her the patroness of Cuba. The original image remains at the shrine of El Cobre.

  Anyone and everyone knew La Virgencita, another of the many names for the Blessed Mother. She was a cultural icon on the island. Even those who didn’t know much about being Catholic knew exactly who she was and how she had appeared in Cuban waters. She was an important part of the mission Abuela had entrusted to Luisito.

  Luisito wanted to ask more questions, but everyone had finished eating and seemed eager to visit the Basilica of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton.

  When Luisito entered the museum, he was mesmerized to see the belongings of an actual saint in glass-covered exhibits just like the museums of patriots in Cuba. He looked at the saint’s wedding ring displayed along with her father’s medicine bag. It looked as old as his father’s medicine bag back on the island.

  “Look, Papi, like your bag,” Luisito said, pointing at the glass case.

  He asked Sonia and Tommy to translate many of the explanations under the glass coverings.

  “She had five kids before she was widowed,” Rosie said.

  “She definitely was a saint!” Elena said, laughing.

  The family had fun reading about and seeing the things that had belonged to Saint Elizabeth. Luisito’s attention was drawn to a large framed picture of Jesus crucified that had hung in Mother Seton’s bedroom. It was her favorite picture. Luisito remembered something Abuela had said years ago. She had pointed to a crucifix and said that the Lord had been crucified for teaching things which had angered some of the leaders of his time. Since then the picture of Jesus reminded him of Cubans. It reminded him of people like his grandfather, beaten and tortured to death without ever committing a crime.

  Then they walked toward the basilica. Luisito saw a man take his picture. He looked around and saw another man walking behind him; he must have been the one the man was photographing. The men walked away quickly, which Luisito found strange. He had to remind himself he was not in Cuba and he had no reason to feel frightened.

  Saint Elizabeth’s remains were buried under a side marble altar in a large, impressive church. The church reminded Luisito of the times he had accompanied Abuela to Mass. He couldn’t remember the actual Mass, but he remembered the beautiful statues, the smell of the smoldering candles, and the music. His grandmother went to Mass every Sunday regardless of the possible consequences.

  Luisito had accompanied her until he was about six years old. Then one Monday morning in school his teacher asked the class how many of them had attended Mass. Luisito and two other girls raised their hands. The teacher made them stand in front of the class.

  “You are so silly,” she said. “Put out your hands.”

  The kids did as they were told. Luisito was afraid he had done something wrong and was going to get slapped with a ruler.

  “Now, ask God to give you candy. Come on, pray!” the teacher demanded.

  Luisito and the other girls just stood there without saying a word.

  “Come on, close your eyes and pray!” the teacher said in an angry tone.

  “Now, open your eyes,” she said mockingly. “Do you see any candy?”

  Luisito and the girls looked at their empty hands.

  “Now, close your eyes and ask the government for candy!” She laughed as she placed candy in their hands. “It’s the government you should always trust!”

  When Luisito came home and told the story his parents were horrified.

  “Well, tell that teacher that my hand is extended and I want food. How come the government doesn’t come over here and give it to me!” Abuela had said, indignant. “Even better, why doesn’t the government let me make money of my own instead of controlling my life!”

  “Mami, don’t say that to Luisito. He might repeat it and then we will all be in big trouble.” Elena had said.

  “It’s best he doesn’t go back to Mass. We have enough problems!” Miguel decided. That was the last time Luisito ever went to church with Abuela, although he would often hear her praying quietly in the evenings.

  Luisito felt a sense of peace in this church. It was so quiet and beautiful. His parents knelt and prayed by Mother Seton’s side altar. Tears were rolling down their cheeks. He could see his dad’s shoulders moving up and down as he buried his face in his hands. It had been many years since they had stepped inside a church. Finally, they got up and wiped their tears and hugged each other. Elena and Miguel walked outside the church into the beautiful sunny day. Everything in this country looked different to Luisito. It was like the memories of the island were in black and white and everything he saw in the United States was clean, new, bright, and colorful—just like his mood.

  13 TRECE

  Meanwhile, in Havana, Abuela sat in her rocking chair and prayed the rosary. The white beads of her rosary passed gently through her fingers as she fervently prayed each Hail Mary. She had first prayed incessantly for the safe arrival of her family, and now she prayed that she could be reunited with them soon. Those first anxiety-ridden days, knowing her family was out at sea risking their lives, kept her from any sleep. She had consoled so many women who had come to church crying desperately because their families had been lost at sea. For one long week, she had been in their shoes, pacing around her small apartment alone, praying to God that they would make it all right.
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  As planned, the day after her family had left, she burst into the police headquarters pretending she didn’t know where they had gone.

  “Please, tell me. What have you done with them?” she asked the young man in a military uniform, who had no idea what she was talking about.

  “My daughter, her husband, and my grandson have disappeared!” Abuela said frantically. “They couldn’t have all disappeared at the same time. The government must be questioning them somewhere, but why?” she begged to know.

  Abuela hated how the government forced families to lie just to survive, just as she was lying right now. Cubans had to lie every day about their true feelings. They even had to steal food to survive. Many shop owners and farmers secretly separated a small stash of items for themselves and their family or to sell in the black market before they gave their crops to the government.

  Then Abuela received a call from Maricusa, her sister, in Miami.

  “¡Hola! Maria Elena,” Maricusa said. “You wouldn’t believe what I am going to tell you, but your family is here in Florida! What a surprise we had when the Coast Guard called us!”

  Abuela chose her words carefully. “¡No me digas! I have been scared to death not knowing where they were,” Abuela said as rehearsed, knowing that her phone call might be overheard. “How could they possibly leave me here alone without family?”

  “Well, Maria Elena, you know how young people are, but please don’t be too hard on them when they call you. They are en route to Maryland,” Maricusa said, sounding giddy with happiness.

  Then Abuela heard static in their phone line, and she knew the conversation was going to be cut off. What a bad actress her sister had been. She would have never survived in this communist Cuba, Abuela thought.

  “Thank you for calling, Maricusa!” Abuela said very solemnly. Then when she hung up, she looked at her ceiling and thanked the Lord. She felt like dancing all around the empty apartment. They had made the dangerous voyage and survived! She had to remember to control her happiness so her neighbors would not hear her bursting into laughter and shrieks of joy.

  14 CATORCE

  Luisito was very tired from all the sightseeing in Maryland. He slept heavily, but woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, opening his eyes and looking around for Abuela. He had shared the living room with Abuela for so many years. He could just imagine she was there beside him as he lay in bed. He finally fell back to sleep. Hours later, he woke up to a strange noise that sounded like frogs croaking. He jumped out of bed only to discover that it was Tommy’s alarm clock.

  He knew he would be going shopping with his mother and Rosie for school clothes this morning. He was excited. He rushed to the living room.

  “Hey, Tommy, you want to come? I am going shopping,” Luisito said excitedly.

  “Heck, no!” Tommy said. “I hate shopping! Then I have to help carry all the shopping bags. That’s all right. I will stay home and watch TV.”

  Did he say all those shopping bags? Luisito thought. What a great day!

  Luisito wolfed down his breakfast of toast with butter and café con leche and joined Rosie, his mother, and Sonia in the car.

  “Come on, Luisito. The stores are just around the corner,” Rosie said. But Luisito figured that in Maryland around the corner meant at least a thirty-minute ride.

  The stores were nothing like Luisito imagined.

  “Is this just one store?” Luisito asked.

  “No, there are many stores in this one building. It is called a mall,” Rosie explained. “It’s better this way because you can walk inside without dealing with the hot or cold weather.”

  They entered through the perfume department. There were so many different smells that it drove Luisito crazy. His mother tried on many different perfumes. She looked like a kid in a toy store. Luisito wanted to leave this part of the store before he spent the whole day smelling like a girl!

  Then they stepped onto the escalator to the second floor. Luisito pretended he wanted to see something downstairs again so he could ride on it one more time!

  “This reminds me of El Encanto,” Elena said. “It was a beautiful store in Cuba before the revolution. It sold items from Europe and from the United States.”

  “From the United States?” Sonia said, surprised.

  “Yes, and what a store it was!” Elena said. “There were such helpful employees who had been working there for years and knew so much about their products. The items you purchased were often delivered to your house.”

  “I remember El Encanto, as well,” Rosie said joining in the nostalgia. “A few days before we left Cuba my mother took me to buy a coat. You could see that many shelves were empty. It was evident that things were going downhill in our country.”

  As the foursome walked around the store, a man in his thirties, blond and wearing a t-shirt and jeans, watched them from afar. At first, Elena didn’t pay any attention. Then the same feeling she had in Cuba came back to her. She realized that the man, who was pretending to look at the merchandise, was also keeping a steady eye on them. The man glanced at two other men a few yards behind Elena. These men had dark hair and looked Hispanic. They wore checkered shirts, dark slacks, and black shoes. Was something going on between them? She had seen those two men at the perfume stand.

  Luisito also noticed the men. Were they all together? Were they planning to mug them? The two dark-haired men pretended to read the label on a box of men’s slippers, but the box was upside-down. When they saw that they had been noticed they turned around and left quickly. These men look familiar—but that couldn’t be possible, Luisito thought. He had only been in this country for a few weeks.

  The blond man watched the two men leave, and he continued to keep an eye on Luisito and his family.

  “I think that guy likes you, Sonia,” Luisito said. “He keeps glancing this way.”

  Sonia smiled at Luisito and twirled her hair.

  “How can anyone resist?” she said jokingly and then looked in the general direction of the guy. “Eww, he is ugly!” she said.

  “Niña, que te oye,” her mother said, reprimanding her for saying that out loud.

  “I am not rude. He is the one staring,” she said turning around.

  “Kids!” her mother said, rolling her eyes and smiling at Elena.

  Elena continued to have an uneasy feeling but she dismissed it as a result of having lived so many years in constant fear. They continued shopping and the man kept his distance. At a certain point they realized he had disappeared as well.

  Rosie bought Luisito several pair of jeans, shirts, shorts, long pants, one nice, dressy, black pair of shoes, and a pair of sneakers. They also bought a dark blue coat, mittens, and a cap for the winter. Then they purchased a few items and a coat for Elena as well. Miguel had been shopping the day before with José to buy clothes for work.

  After they left the mall, Rosie took them for lunch at another restaurant where they ate hamburgers. Apparently a common dish in this country, Luisito thought.

  When they sat down they saw the same young man who had been following them sitting in a corner booth eating a burger.

  “Isn’t that the blond guy from the store?” Luisito asked.

  “Well, this restaurant is not that far from the store,” said Rosie.

  Then Luisito saw the other two men who had also been following them.

  “I don’t like this,” Luisito said, mumbling a Spanish proverb. “Te conozco bacalao aunque vengas disfrasao—I know you, codfish, even if you are in disguise. Those guys over there are Cuban and they are purposely following us.”

  “It’s nothing, please, just a coincidence,” Rosie said, smiling nervously. “I am Cuban as well. That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Yes, but the way they were following us and looking at us straight in the eyes is just like the intimidation they used in Cuba,” Elena said.

  “I am going to the bathroom,” Sonia said, standing up and heading toward the back of the restaurant.

/>   Rosie quickly excused herself and followed after her.

  “Are you crazy, Sonia? You shouldn’t be going anywhere by yourself. Those guys could be murderers on the loose stalking us!” Rosie said.

  “Well, what happened to ‘It’s all a coincidence, this place is close to the store?’” Sonia said.

  “I don’t want to scare them, because they just came from Cuba, but I am not taking any chances,” Rosie whispered to Sonia, taking her daughter’s hand and pulling her back toward the table.

  “But, I need to go!” said Sonia.

  “Hold it till we get home,” said Rosie. “We are not going into that bathroom by ourselves.”

  “Shall we ask more people to join us?” said Sonia, smiling sarcastically, but Rosie ignored her comment and directed her right back to the table.

  The men kept glancing toward their table as they spoke.

  “Okay, that is it!” Sonia said. “I am going to go right up to him and ask him if he knows us.”

  The two Hispanic men threw their leftovers into the trash can by the exit and disappeared. A few minutes after the blond man did the same.

  “No, he’s leaving,” Rosie said, grabbing Sonia by the arm. She looked playfully at Elena. “This girl could have never survived in communist Cuba.”

  15 QUINCE

  The following Sunday morning Luisito joined his cousins in the kitchen early for breakfast. He was still amazed that all the appliances in the kitchen worked all the time and there were never any electricity shortages. The smell of peppers and onions lingered in the air. Rosie brought out of the oven a Spanish tortilla, a well-cooked potato omelet with onions and red peppers that looked a little like a cake.

  The family hurried with their breakfast so they could get to Mass. Luisito’s parents had given up going to Mass in Cuba because of fear, and now they found peace just by entering the church and listening to the beautiful music, looking at the religious art all around them, and praying with others. They especially wanted to thank God this Sunday for having received their working permits.

 

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