Broken Paradise

by Cecilia Samartin

  Alicia spoke for the first time since we’d arrived, and the clarity and strength of her voice surprised me. “Have they cut down our trees, Nora? I’m afraid to look.”

  “I see them just as they were. Don’t worry.”

  Lucinda stayed near the water as I carefully placed Alicia on the sand directly under our palms. Beyond Lucinda I could see the platform, to which Alicia and I swam as children, bobbing peacefully, the curve of the pure white sand spreading out like two loving arms reaching towards heaven.

  Satisfied that Lucinda was safe and that we wouldn’t be discovered as trespassers, I lay down next to Alicia. We looked up at the impossibly blue sky as the sun bathed us and winked through the palms.

  Alicia sighed, shifted in the sand, and turned towards me, her green eyes reflecting the crystalline sand like jewels embedded in her skeletal face. She was lovely still and the tenderness in her expression was so fragile and intense I could hardly bear it. I knew she was watching me and loving me with her last ounce of energy.

  The corners of her mouth flickered into a faint smile. “You know, Nora. If you stare straight at the sun without blinking, you can see God.” Alicia opened her eyes wide at the sun and then shut them tight. She turned to me again, her eyes glistening.

  “What did you ask Him for?” I asked.

  She smiled and closed her eyes. Her breathing grew shallow and rapid and her words escaped through her tangled breath like tiny butterflies. “When you’re with me I’m not afraid.”

  I held her close. “I’m here with you Alicia, I’m right here.”

  Above us the royal palms swayed, their shadows drifting over us as quickly as the time which had passed with such ruthless indifference across our island and through our lives. We were little girls again with our hearts set on an afternoon swim, tingling with the thrill of the warm clear waters. We were learning how to skate over the cracks without falling down and scraping our knees because scars would be unseemly on a young lady’s legs. We were pressing our hands against our chests, afraid and curious about the painful little buds that grew with each passing day. We stared at the movie stars on TV and saw how they kissed with their mouths barely open. Soon we would discover for ourselves that sex is much more than kissing, and kissing is much more than sex. We were grown women lying on the sand between heaven and earth, broken by the incomprehensible effort of trying to understand our friendship and the love that slips from life into forever.

  I moved closer to whisper in her ear. “I’m glad we’re here together, Alicia. It’s just how I remember it.”

  Eyelashes flutter over eyes that are fading to a quiet, somber green, and I was not sure that she’d heard me. “Take care of my Lucinda,” she whispers back. “Promise me….”

  “I promise.”

  Her eyes close and I feel I should be quiet now, but I want to tell her how much I love her, and about everything in my heart and all that she means to me. As I start to speak, she releases my hand and turns her face to the sun. I see her let go and lighten with the peace of the warmth all around us. Never has she looked more beautiful than she does at this moment and I realize that she’s gazing into the face of God, and that this time He’s taken her home.

  32

  ALICIA WAS BURIED IN A SMALL CEMETERY ON THE OUTSKIRTS of Havana. Aside from Beba, Lucinda, and I, there were only a few neighbors gathered at her graveside. Berta complained her work made it impossible for her to attend the simple funeral and that she didn’t believe in them anyway. “I said my good-bye’s when she was alive. That should be good enough for anybody.”

  The somber mood contrasted sharply against the glorious tropical sky. When she was healthy, Alicia would’ve insisted a day like this should not be wasted, and she would’ve organized a trip to the beach or the countryside or anywhere she could to soak up the beauty around her. I only had the strength to sit on the wall of the malecón and stare out at the sea. I had never felt so lost, so incapable of understanding what I should do next. Alicia was gone, and this immutable reality crept over me like a slow freeze so that even the warmth of the sun couldn’t reach me anymore.

  Beba was a rock of strength and compassion. After the burial she came to the house every day to check on Lucinda. We both feared for Lucinda’s health and general well being. She’d hadn’t spoken a word for three days after Alicia died. She hardly ate and she slept fitfully, waking suddenly and calling for her mother. I’d go to remind her gently that her Mami was gone. She’d lay back without a word, no longer requiring any comforting, at least not from me.

  In the house, she began to stumble into furniture and tripped several times, once bumping her head hard enough to produce a black and blue lump on her forehead. Beba kept ice on it most of the day. She was the only person Lucinda allowed near her. When I tried to get close she flinched and turned away from me every time. This is how it was since she heard I was planning to leave Cuba without her.

  I went to the American Interests Section to inquire about the status of Lucinda’s visa, hoping I’d be able to take her with me. I was confronted by a middle-aged woman with sagging cheeks and teeth stained dark yellow from too much coffee and smoking, a sure sign of someone who’d had steady employment for a while.

  “When are you leaving?” the clerk asked as she shuffled through a stack of papers that looked as though they’d been weathering on her desk since before the revolution.

  “In five days.”

  She stopped her shuffling and stared at me in disbelief. “Five days? You better pray for a miracle.”

  I tried to explain that I was Lucinda’s closest living relative and that I wanted more than anything to adopt her, but the clerk wasn’t impressed and waved me off with a well rehearsed click of her tongue.

  I phoned Jeremy for the third day in a row, hoping he’d help me find a solution to what was becoming an impossible situation, and he remained calm and logical in the face of my growing hysteria. I clung to his every word. “Lucinda will come live with us when her visa comes through. It’s not going to happen now, the way you’d like, but it’ll happen. We can even get your attorney cousin to help us.”

  “It could take a year, maybe more. What about the promise I made Alicia?”

  “You promised you’d look after her and you still are. You’ve made arrangements with Beba.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  Jeremy’s sigh was lost in the static of the connection. “Do you think Alicia wanted us to be separated so you could look after her daughter?”

  “I know she didn’t want that.”

  “Do you trust Beba to take good care of Lucinda?”

  I laughed in spite of my turmoil. “Beba will do a better job than I or anybody else could do.”

  “There you have it then. Beba will look after Lucinda while her visa is being processed. And you’ll come home with me because…” he paused for a moment, “…because I love you and need you with me.”

  “I love you too, Jeremy.”

  “Promise me you’ll come home.”

  “I promise.”

  “Promise me you’ll come home next week and that you won’t let this plane leave without you.”

  “I promise, my love.”

  It all seemed so clear and sensible after I spoke with Jeremy. I tried to explain this to Lucinda as she sat on the couch where Alicia had spent her last days. She barely raised her head to acknowledge I was speaking to her and her hair, which she refused to let anyone comb or wash, hung down like overgrown ivy. She kept her hands folded tight in her lap so her nails lit up like bright little crescent moons. Tears splashed on her wrists as she nodded her understanding, but she wouldn’t accept a hug.

  “I’ve started the paperwork to send for you. You’ll be with me as soon as possible,” I said.

  She nodded and reached out a probing hand for Beba who had left the room. “Where’s Beba?”

  Beba appeared soon enough to comfort her.

  Even though I believed what Jeremy said to be logic
al and sound, there were brief moments when I resented him, and I felt an uneasy distance building in my heart, the same as I’d felt with my parents before deciding to go against their wishes. And Lucinda was beginning to hate me as well. I could feel it thick and heavy in the air whenever I came close to her. I only reminded her of the agonizing loss of both her parents. The best I could do was to keep a distance and spare us both anymore pain. Never in my life had I felt so alone.

  Beba spoke to me plainly on the day I announced the date of my departure. She’d finally coaxed Lucinda into the bath and had her soaking in my lemon-scented bubbles. “You’re doing what you have to do so you don’t break in two, Norita. You’re only one person and you can’t be in both places at once.”

  “I wish I could be here and go, Beba. I wish I could more than anything. Now Lucinda hates me.”

  “That sweet child isn’t capable of hate. She’s doing what she has to do to stay whole just like you are. It’s too much grief for one person to take.”

  Beba was right as always, and I tried to remember her words when Lucinda asked me if she could go home with Beba for the night. I was so happy she’d spoken to me that I wasn’t able to respond to the question or understand that it meant yet another rejection. She’d been staying with Beba ever since.

  I preferred sleeping on the couch that still smelled of the body lotion and perfume I’d given Alicia on the day I arrived. It seemed like a lifetime ago, several lifetimes. She appeared one night in my dreams, her hair floating on the wind like golden clouds suspended in air. She was as beautiful and vibrant as I remembered her before I left Cuba, and she danced with Tony above the palm trees that tickled their feet. They laughed as they looked down on me, and I was angry they should be so careless and free when I was so shackled to my problems.

  There was a knock on the door the day before I was scheduled to leave. My large suitcase lay on the small living room floor so it was difficult to open the door completely, but when I finally did, I stood face to face with a small man wearing black rimmed glasses. They seemed to do little to improve his eyesight, for he persistently peered over my shoulder to see who or what was in the room. As he did, I took note of his clean shirt and good shoes.

  “It’s been reported to me that there’s a child here. A…” he consulted his notebook more carefully. “A Lucinda Rodríguez.”

  I stepped this way and that so he couldn’t see into the room. “Is there a problem?”

  The man continued to consult his notes. “It says here that the child has been recently orphaned. It’s the obligation and authority of the state to evaluate the care-taking and education…”

  I opened the door wider so I could stand outside the threshold. “I’m Lucinda’s aunt, and I’m caring for her just fine.”

  He glanced at the suitcase on the floor. “But you’re leaving.”

  “The child will be well taken care of.”

  “May I ask by whom?”

  “A close family friend.”

  The man jotted down something in his notebook and shook his head in the process. “I will report this to my superiors. However, I must inform you that it is not customary for orphaned children to reside with non-relatives. Our reports indicate that the child is blind and has had no formal education to speak of.”

  “I assure you that she’s been very well educated, even if she hasn’t attended the state school.”

  The man’s grimace became a thin smile. “We have schools for disabled children.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “Where is the child now?”

  “I’m afraid she’s not here at the moment.”

  The man jotted some more, ripped a leaf of paper out of his notebook and gave it to me. “Her whereabouts must be reported to this office. If I don’t hear from you in a couple of days, I’ll be back.”

  Beba listened gravely as she measured the sugar for our coffee. “Did you tell them she was here?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good.” She handed me my coffee and the cup rattled on the saucer. “She can never go back there now, and we have to stay indoors for a while, especially in the day.”

  I showed Beba the paper the man gave me, and she promptly crumpled it up into a small wad and tossed it in the trash. “I never did learn to read.”

  Next I handed Beba the box of money Alicia had been saving in the wall. When she saw how much there was, she placed a hand over her chest and collapsed on her stool. “Good Lord, child, are you walking around the streets with this? They’ll slice your throat around here for ten dollars.”

  Lucinda had been asleep on the floor on a bed Beba made for her. As she stirred I whispered, “Alicia was saving this money for when Tony got out so the three of them could find a way to the States. Use it for whatever you need to take care of Lucinda, and I’ll send you money every month. For you and Lucinda.”

  “You don’t have to pay me to take care of that child.”

  “I know I don’t.”

  I told Beba I’d be back later in the day to say good-bye because the next morning I was leaving very early. As I hugged Beba at the door, I saw Lucinda’s small face reflected in the cracked mirror, leaning against the floor next to her. Her eyes were wide open, and her face was tight with the strain of trying to muffle the sound of her own weeping.

  Berta came to see me that afternoon, taking the opportunity to say her final good-byes, as she’d be gone for work before the end of the day. I’d been meaning to thank her for helping Alicia with Ricardo, but didn’t quite know how to bring it up.

  I offered her my shoulder to lean on as she removed her bright pink high-heeled shoes. “I know how you helped Alicia with Ricardo.”

  “How’d you find out?”

  “I figured it out by the look on Ricardo’s face when Alicia mentioned you’d be making the next delivery.”

  Berta cackled and collapsed on the couch. “If it weren’t for Alicia, I’d never let a man that ugly get near me no matter how much money he had.” She raised her painted eyebrows. “Well maybe…”

  “I think you should know…I told him a little lie. I was so angry for what he did to Alicia that I told him…you were sick too. You see Alicia had already said she got sick after she and him…and I had to do something to get back…”

  Berta was still and thoughtful for a moment and then she looked at me with all sincerity and said, “Alicia always said you were smart, but that was brilliant. If I know Ricardo he’ll be crapping his pants for the next ten years.” She broke out in a fit of laughter. “And he deserves to suffer, that bastard.”

  “But it could jeopardize you…”

  “He may be a devil, but he’s no fool. He won’t say anything.” Berta thought for a moment longer. “Besides, it might be true. Alicia took a lot better care of herself than I ever did.” She shrugged off the few seconds of doubt, and stood up to give me a strong hug, almost drowning me in her jungle of hair, stiff with sprays and potions that did little to calm it down.

  I’d already told her three times before, but just to make sure I told her once more that no matter who came to the door she was to tell them Lucinda had moved and that she didn’t know where. Each time, Berta agreed, but I worried. In spite of her generosity, she wasn’t immune to bribery, and she’d succumbed to the illness caused by desperation long ago.

  I decided to take the longer walk up the malecón to Beba’s house. The temperature had cooled and the ocean swelled its turquoise perfection against the cobalt sky. This was the Cuba I had dreamed about. For an instant I envied Alicia for having lived all her life in the midst of such beauty. She was more a part of Cuba than I could ever be and her sweet-hearted music was leaving me, slipping away as surely as the tide.

  At this time tomorrow I’d be back in Los Angeles. I’d wake up and take a steamy shower as American coffee brewed in my automatic coffee maker. I’d settle into my tidy Honda and drive down smooth streets lined by manicured lawns. I’d park in my reserved parking space and wo
rk for exactly eight and a half hours and then drive home and order Chinese because I was too tired to cook. And Jeremy would come home to me as he always did and fall asleep in my arms.

  Lucinda was sitting primly in her chair when I arrived. Beba had taken special care to comb her hair in ringlets and dress her in one of the dresses I’d brought for her. It was the yellow one with delicate embroidery on the collar. She looked like one of those collectable dolls you place high on the shelf because they’re too beautiful to play with.

  I chatted with Beba as I watched Lucinda by the window. She slowly turned to face the sound of my voice. Her eyes were soft and beamed with a lovely light. She hadn’t looked this open since before Alicia’s death, and my throat was tight with hope and emotion. Without thinking about it I went to her and knelt before her so we were at eye level. Immediately, her hands floated up toward my face and she smiled.

  “Tía Nora,” she whispered and I hugged her so tight that this little china doll could break, but she hugged me back every bit as tight. “I’m sorry, Tía Nora. I’m sorry I’ve been so mad at you.”

  “No, mi cielo, don’t apologize for anything. Please don’t…”

  “I want to because I truly am sorry and because Mami said I should.”

  “Mami?” I looked to Beba who shrugged while squinting at the paper on which I’d written my home address and phone number. It was then that I spotted the metal tub in the corner of the room and became aware of the faint smell of sulfur.

  “Beba gave me a bath today like she gave Mami, to take away the pain, and it worked, Tía Nora, it worked. I don’t feel mad or sad anymore because I know Mami and Papi are happy together in heaven and I know you’ll come back for me. You won’t forget me?”

  “Of course I won’t forget you, my love. How could I ever forget you?”

  I held her as Beba looked down upon us. For the first time, I felt unsettled by those eyes that seemed to know and see so much, but I decided not to ask her what she felt, or exactly what happened with Lucinda. I didn’t want to taint the moment with doubts for any of us.