Mission Libertad

by Lizette M. Lantigua

  “She does? That’s great!” Luisito said. His cousins look at him, surprised. “What? I love pictures!”

  When they arrived at school, there were kids hanging around the entrance of the school building speaking with one another, and others were walking in clusters toward the door. Rosie parked the car.

  “Shall I walk you to your classrooms?” she asked

  “Noooo!” Sonia and Tommy answered as if on cue.

  “I would rather die,” Sonia said.

  “¡Qué exagerada!” Rosie said. “Drama queen!”

  “Mom, I know where to go. I will take Luisitio,” Tommy said.

  “Sure?” said Rosie.

  “No problema,” said Tommy.

  “Okay, kids, off to school. Have a great day,” Rosie said.

  Luisito walked with Tommy through big aluminum doors that opened to a wide hallway full of students walking in different directions. Luisito looked around the hallway at the students’ clothes and book bags. He had never paid much attention to these things in Cuba.

  “We always start the day coming to this class,” Tommy explained to Luisito. “This is home room, you know, like your main casa.”

  They sat down and were given a copy of their schedules and other forms to take home to fill out. The teacher, a young woman with short blond hair and freckles, welcomed everyone to their freshman year and promised them an exciting school year.

  “Did you hear that? We are going to have an exciting year,” Luisito said to Tommy.

  “They always say that,” Tommy shrugged.

  A bell rang and they had to change classes. Luisito didn’t have to change classes as many times back in Cuba; there, the teachers came to his classroom while the students stayed in their seats. He liked this much better! Tommy looked at Luisito’s schedule, and, as he had suspected, it was the same as his, except during English grammar. Luisito was sent to ESOL class, English for Speakers of Other Languages, on the second floor.

  In math class, the teacher, Mrs. Kelly, asked everyone what they did during the summer. A familiar voice yelled from the back of the class.

  “Lewis came rafting from Cuba!” the boy said. When Luisito turned around, he saw Allen smiling at him.

  “Oh, how interesting,” Mrs. Kelly said. “Can you tell us more about it?”

  “My English is not so good,” Luisito said.

  “Don’t worry. Come to the front of the class and practice,” she said.

  Luisito stood up slowly, wiping his sweaty hands on his new jeans. His heart was beating fast. He looked down at his new shoes and then up into the faces of his new classmates.

  “I escaped from Cuba at night,” Luisito started, “with my mother and father. We came in a raft and the sea was full of waves but the Coast Guard finally rescued us. We now live with my cousin Tommy.”

  Luisito heard giggles from some girls sitting on the left side of the classroom. He wondered why they found this funny.

  “That was excellent, Lewis,” Mrs. Kelly said as the bell rang. As he gathered his papers, Tommy motioned to him.

  “Hey, Luisito,” Tommy whispered. “Here in school I go by Thomas, just so you know.”

  “And I now go by Lewis,” Luisito said, smiling, “just so you know.”

  “I hear ya,” Tommy said, laughing. They walked out of the classroom together.

  19 DIECINUEVE

  The next day Luisito got to school earlier than usual. The bell rang at school and Luisito walked toward his first period class. He noticed the kids he passed in the hallway were wearing sweaters. Luisito, used to the warm breezes of the Caribbean, was already freezing. Wearing his blue jacket, he walked quickly toward Room 102: history class with Mr. Xavier Alvarez. History was Luisito’s favorite subject, and he remembered his teacher in Cuba once spoke about the American Revolution. Of course, he didn’t exactly know what was true or not. According to Abuela, his teachers were known for bending the truth about history.

  “How many students are new this year?” Mr. Alvarez asked.

  Three students, including Luisito, raised their hands.

  “Well, we have something in common. I’m new to this school too,” Mr. Alvarez said, smiling.

  “We are going to start our semester learning about Latin America and the Caribbean. Is anyone in this class from those places?”

  A girl from Honduras, a boy from Jamaica, and Luisito each stood up and told where they were from.

  “I am originally from Mexico, but I came here to study and then stayed,” Mr. Alvarez said. “The United States is composed of immigrants from different parts of the world.”

  He wrote down where the three students were from and said he would start with those countries.

  “We can start with Cuba since it is the closest country to the United States,” he said.

  “Where did you live, Lewis?” Mr. Alvarez asked.

  “In Havana,” Luisito responded.

  “And your dad, what did he do for a living?” Mr. Alvarez said.

  “He is a medical doctor,” Luisito answered.

  “Then your father must come and talk to our class one day,” Mr. Alvarez said, just as the bell rang.

  Luisito couldn’t wait to tell his father that he had been invited to speak in his class.

  “Do you think your father is going to want to speak to the class?” Tommy whispered.

  “He won’t have much to say,” said Luisito. “He worked in a neighborhood hospital. It’s only the hospitals where the tourists go that have everything.”

  “By the way, did you sign up for soccer?” Tommy asked, handing him two forms.

  Right after dinner that night, Luisito gave the forms that he had filled out to his mother so she could sign them.

  “Who’s this Lewis?” asked Elena, looking at the form.

  “That’s his American name,” said Tommy, who was sitting at the dinner table with them.

  “Look at him. Before we know it he will forget all his Spanish!” Rosie said as she cut herself a piece of apple pie.

  “He’d better not,” Miguel smiled at them. “Luis Alberto Miguel Angel Ramirez Jemot!”

  20 VEINTE

  “Luisito!” Sonia yelled, running in the house.

  “Miguel, Elena, everyone come here!” Sonia waved a letter in the air. “It’s from your grandmother! A letter from Cuba!”

  Everyone gathered to open the envelope. Inside there was a letter for Luisito’s parents and another for Luisito. Elena and Miguel sat down to read their letter. Luisito ran to his bedroom to read his.

  Querido Luisito,

  I am so glad you are having a great time with all our family! How is school?

  When I walked past the park the other day I saw your friends Mayito, Roberto, and Carmen. They all asked about you. I told them you went to the United States.

  I miss you terribly but I am full of joy every time I receive a letter from you and your parents.

  Despite my arthritis, I am doing just fine. A neighbor brought me a mango the other day. I remembered how much you loved them.

  I love you with all my heart!

  Abuela

  P.S. Don’t forget … that I love you very much!

  Luisito read the letter several times to look for hidden clues. In Cuba, the government often monitored letters and phone calls. Therefore, people wrote in clues. Obviously, when Abuela said not to forget she was referring to the secret mission. He held the letter tight to his heart. How he missed Abuela and his friends! If only they could all come here. Then he would be completely happy.

  “Luisito, are you all right?” Elena called, knocking gently on his door.

  Luisito wiped tears from his face. “Sure, coming,” he said.

  Luisito and his parents sat down and compared their letters. Abuela wasn’t very explicit in either one.

  That night Luisito remembered that Abuela was probably praying right at that moment. Rosie said that those who spent time speaking to God and developing a friendship with him would have t
heir prayers answered. She said this was possible if they asked God sincerely and if God deemed that what they were asking was indeed the best for them. He wished he had a relationship with God just like Abuela did. Maybe then God would hear his prayers faster! Luisito looked at Tommy, who was reading a book in his bed.

  “Hey, Tommy,” Luisito said. “Tell me more about God.”

  Tommy put his book down.

  “About God?” he said, surprised.

  “Yes!” Luisito said very seriously.

  “Okay,” Tommy said scratching his head. “Well, he is our Father. He loves us and forgives us, and he hears our prayers.”

  “I don’t know how to pray by myself,” Luisito said.

  “Well, you just talk to him like you would to a friend,” Tommy said. “You’ve never done that before?”

  “Not really,” Luisito said. “In Cuba, I listened to Abuela’s prayers at night and kind of followed along. I did try praying by myself during my trip on the ocean.”

  “Well, you must have done a good job because he heard you. You made it,” Tommy said, smiling.

  Luisito hadn’t really thought about that. God did hear him. The thought gave him peace.

  “I can’t wait to go to Miami,” Luisito said, changing the subject.

  “I love Miami,” Tommy said. “I can’t wait to see my grandmother. She makes me all my favorite desserts. I also love the beach!”

  Luisito didn’t know if he could trust his cousin with his big secret. Abuela had told him not to tell anyone, but could she have meant not to tell the adults? His teenage cousins could do no harm. They knew very little about politics or anything like that. Luisito wanted to tell Tommy his secret because it felt like una papa caliente, a steaming hot potato, in his hands, but he decided to wait a little longer.

  “Do you have a Bible?” Luisito said.

  “Yeah, under my bed,” Tommy said.

  “Why do you keep it there?” Luisito said.

  “That’s where I keep all my important stuff,” Tommy answered. “Here,” he said, handing the book to Luisito.

  Luisito leafed through the many pages with no idea of where to start.

  “Do you know how to use it?” Tommy asked.

  “Not really,” he said.

  “What do you want to read?” Tommy asked.

  “Exodus 32:1–35,” Luisito answered very matter-offactly.

  “Hold it,” Tommy said. “You have never opened a Bible and you want to read precisely that Bible verse?”

  “I saw a man holding it on a poster on the street,” Luisito lied. What a save, he thought. He actually had seen a homeless man with a sign when he went to the mall, but it said something about asking for food.

  “Let’s find out,” Tommy said, smiling and sitting cross-legged on his bed with the Bible on his lap.

  “When Moses delayed coming down from the mountain, the people gathered around Aaron and said to him, ‘Come, make us a god who will be our leader,’“ Tommy read from the Bible at a fast pace.

  “Wait!” Luisito interrupted. “You read it and then tell me what it’s about because I don’t understand anything you’re saying.”

  “I saw this in the movie The Ten Commandments,” Tommy said. “It’s about the golden calf.”

  “Golden calf?” Luisito said, shrugging his shoulders. “Makes no sense to me.”

  “Wait, let me read the whole thing,” Tommy said, quickly skimming the passage.

  “Okay, the Exodus is when God delivered the Israelites from Egyptian rule. He did this by parting the seas,” Tommy said. “The Israelites were slaves. Understand?”

  “Okay,” Luisito said.

  “This part of the book of Exodus talks about Moses going to the mountain for prayer with God. While he is gone the Israelites forget about the Ten Commandments and build themselves a golden calf. They worshiped the calf and did all sorts of sinful things and …”

  “I don’t get it,” Luisito interrupted. He was trying to make sense of why his grandmother needed him to tell this to a priest in Miami. Wouldn’t he know this? Wouldn’t he have read the Bible many times already? So far, Exodus dealt with a massive fleeing of the Egyptians through the sea and a golden icon. None of it made much sense to Luisito.

  Then there was the other part of the message: “Your mother is waiting for you in Italy.” What did this Bible verse have to do with the Cuban priest’s mother being in Italy? Unless she was coming to Miami and bringing a precious Bible with her? No, that didn’t make sense because the message referred to Exodus, not to the whole Bible. Maybe his mother was escaping by sea from Cuba and waiting for him in Italy?

  “Well, I am reading more,” Tommy said, running his index finger down the page. “They got busted! When Moses came back he and God were very upset at the way these people had behaved. They totally forgot what God had done for them.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Luisito repeated to himself.

  “What doesn’t make sense?” Tommy asked.

  “Oh … why the man would be holding a poster with this information,” Luisito lied again. Could he trust his cousin to keep the secret? He wondered again why Abuela would want to keep this a secret when she had always told him to go to an adult in time of need. Maybe she was afraid that his parents would not want him to get involved.

  “You know, Tommy …” Luisito was about to tell him when they were interrupted.

  “To sleep, everyone!” José said, turning off the lights.

  “We are in high school already, Papi!” Tommy said.

  “No, excuses!” José replied. “El que duerme primero duerme mejor—the one who sleeps first sleeps best!”

  “Huh?” Tommy said quizzically. Luisito looked at him and they started laughing.

  21 VEINTIUNO

  This morning the school hallway smelled of fresh lemon scent. Luisito took a deep, breath. He knew that in a few hours, with the change of class, the air would be permeated with a mixture of girls’ perfume, jockey sweat, and chalk dust. As the bell rang, Luisito swiftly passed the other students rushing to their next class period. He heard some boys mention that the list of those who had made the soccer team was posted outside the physical education classroom.

  Luisito looked at the glass-covered bulletin board to see if he had made it, but he didn’t see his name. Then he saw Tommy’s and Sherry’s. The coaches had posted the lists for the boys’ and the girls’ team side by side.

  “Hey, Lewis,” said Paul, a friend of Sonia’s. “How come your name is not on the list? I thought all Hispanics were good at soccer. It’s in your blood.”

  A few other boys laughed and walked away.

  “Remember me? I’m Paul,” he said, shaking Luisito’s hand. “Why don’t you try out for basketball? You look tall enough.” He handed Luisito a flyer with all the information.

  “Thanks, I will,” Luisito said.

  The next morning, Luisito headed off for basketball tryouts. He didn’t know why he was doing this or what he was proving, but he wanted to join something.

  He heard that the coach usually picked most of the older boys for the team, so his chances were minimal. He had never played on the school team in Cuba, but he had played at the park all the time with his friends.

  There were about twenty boys at the tryouts. The coach had them dribble the ball from one side of the court to the other. They did layups and free throws. The coach had them sprint from one side of the court to the other to measure their speed. Finally, he separated the players in groups and had them scrimmage.

  The coach, a big man who looked more like a football player than a basketball coach, gathered them to stretch after tryouts were over. He mentioned that it would be tough to pick the right team because everyone this year was so impressive. He would have to think about this thoroughly and by the end of the week he would post the list. The first practice was the next Monday, and the first game of the season was in two weeks.

  “We had a good season last year, and we hope this
year we can be undefeated!” Coach Jerry said.

  “Yeah!” the boys cheered in unison.

  Then Luisito grabbed his backpack and towel, and he headed toward the school office. He had to call Sonia to see if she could pick him up. He opened the glass office door and, when he looked toward the waiting area, there was Sherry, reading a book. She looked up and smiled.

  “Hi, Sherry,” Luisito said. “What are you doing here?”

  “We had a soccer meeting and now I am waiting for my mother,” she said. “I have dance class today.”

  “I saw your name on the soccer list,” Luisito said, sitting beside her. “Congratulations on making the team.”

  “Thank you!” Sherry responded with a big smile. “Did you try out for basketball today?

  “Yes, it was tough.” he said. “Listen, I’ve tried calling you a couple times but you are never home after school.”

  “Oh,” she said, sounding surprised, “I didn’t know you had called. I have something almost every day after school. Here, give me your number,” she handed him a piece of paper.

  Luisito went blank. He couldn’t remember Tommy’s phone number. He hardly used it. Then he remembered he had written it on something in his wallet. He felt like a clown taking it out of his wallet and copying it down for her. He gave Sherry the paper, which she folded and put in her purse.

  At that moment, Sherry’s mom walked into the school office. Luisito had seen her a couple of times from a distance at Mass and had spoken to her over the phone, but he had never been introduced to her. Mrs. Jones was a very elegant woman, tall and slender, with dark red hair.

  “Let’s go, sweetie, I’m in a hurry,” she said without noticing Luisito.

  “Mom, this is Lewis,” Sherry said, gesturing toward Luisito. “He’s the Cuban boy I told you about.”

  “Is this Thomas’s cousin? The one who arrived from Cuba?” she said.

  “Yes, I am,” Luisito responded. “How are you?”

  “Fine, thank you,” she said as they shook hands. “By the way, does your father do garden work? We are starting a landscaping project.”