Broken Paradise

by Cecilia Samartin

  Manuel inched out from under the seat and sat in the middle of the boat. “They’re sharks,” he said dryly.

  Suddenly I could see the dark silhouettes of razor sharp fins rising and falling out of the sea, circling us, gliding beneath us in strange and fantastic formation. I could see them perfectly now. If I looked more closely I’d be able to look into their black and barren eyes searching for food in the night. There were several more sharp blows under the boat. The sharks were powerful and focused.

  “Why are there so many?”

  Manuel was sitting up now and holding on to his knees as Lucinda had done most of the day. “They must be feeding.” More knocks came rapidly this time. It sounded as though a very large man was punching the bottom of our boat with bare fists. The boat would not handle much more of such abuse.

  “Why do they keep hitting the boat, Tía?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sure they’ll stop soon.”

  “Because they think we’re food and they won’t stop until they’re convinced we’re not, or until we are,” Manuel said.

  “We have to do something, Manuel, please,” I pleaded.

  At that moment, one of the larger sharks rammed the side of the boat propelling it toward a gathering of fins several feet ahead of us. They had their strategy for the kill, and their bodies near the surface of the water were like sleek submarines parked all around us. I wondered if these sharks had already acquired a taste for human flesh. How many rafts had been overturned by sharks such as these?

  Manuel looked about with simple curiosity. “There’s nothing we can do except hope that something more appetizing comes along. But I don’t think that’s likely.”

  I grabbed the oars that had lain dormant for almost three days. I’d never handled them and I wasn’t sure what to do now, but I assumed the rowing position Manuel had before and directed Lucinda to sit away from me. The oars were heavy and awkward, but slowly, I began to row. The blows continued on the sides of the boat from both directions. Manuel was stoic and unflinching even when one of the blows was strong enough to cause the frame of the boat to splinter. Lucinda screamed and I would’ve screamed too if all my energy had not been concentrated on rowing. The oars hit the sharks’ backs on several occasions, backs as solid as steel. They were trying to bite at them, hoping that someone had been foolish enough to dangle arms and legs over the sides.

  “Forget it, you can’t row fast enough.” Manuel said. “They aren’t feeding on anything else. They want us.”

  The boat would splinter into nothing. I knew it was just a matter of time. I pulled in the oars and stood up in the boat to look around. Lucinda held on to my legs and sobbed, crying out for her mother. The blows came more rapidly and evenly. It was as if the sharks were lining up in formation to demolish the boat like a well-trained regiment of soldiers. I took one of the oars and began to whack the sharks when I saw the fins approaching the boat. I remembered reading somewhere that sharks were particularly sensitive on their noses. So this is what I aimed for. With what strength I had left, I brought the oar down on their backs over and over as I screamed at the top of my lungs for God and the saints to help us. I hurled blood-curdling screams into the night to give me strength to scare away the enemy, the evil spirits and death itself. Death by drowning or dehydration I could imagine if I had to, but please God, not to be eaten alive by sharks, anything but that. As I shouted I whacked them on their tails and their backs and their noses. I slapped the water on both sides with a surging rhythm as though possessed by the spirit of the jungle, the black spirit that conquered all.

  It was then that the sea rose up in all directions, and we became covered in blood and water and the saliva of hungry sharks. Suddenly, there was complete and utter silence. Only the slipping sound of the sea and the soft murmuring of the breeze. I scanned the ocean with my oar still raised and then brought it down slowly. All the sharks had gone. Not a fin could be seen anywhere.

  I looked about the boat. Lucinda was still crouched down and holding on to my legs. Manuel was back under the seat. I wasted no time and took up the oars once again and began rowing until fire was burning through my back and arms, until the agony in my muscles overcame my fear of a repulsive and horrible death.

  I collapsed on to the floor of the boat and turned to see if Manuel was still watching me like a little rat. I wanted him to be so I could gloat at the little rat and say I told you so, and why didn’t you help me save our lives? He wasn’t there. I turned my head the other way, but Manuel was nowhere in the boat. Manuel was gone.

  I took hold of Lucinda by the shoulders and shook her. “Where is Manuel, Lucinda? My God, where is he?”

  In my frenzy to get away I hadn’t noticed that Lucinda was crying and pulling at her cork screw curls so hard that there were chunks of hair in her fists.

  “He whispered in my ear that freedom is for the living,” she said between sobs. “Then he left and everything was still.”

  37

  I BEGAN TO UNDERSTAND HOW TIME IS MEASURED IN DIFFERENT situations. In the normal world, Manuel’s sacrifice would’ve ground into our psyches for weeks and months before we could focus normally on the matter of living. On the boat, we were making our next plan for survival in less than an hour.

  By the time the sun had risen, it was as if Manuel’s death had occurred a couple of year’s ago and not a few hours ago. One hour of survival was worth months in real time, and we had to make every second count or we would be lost. We had no water or food, and by midday our mouths were sticky as we huddled under the blanket, no longer bothering to tent it over the oars.

  In the delirium of heat, my mind turned constantly to Jeremy. He was drinking American coffee at the kitchen table. Or was it dinnertime? He didn’t cook much. Maybe Mami made him his favorite chicken stew and packed it for him in layers of plastic because she didn’t trust the Tupperware alone. He’s sleeping in our bed and reaching for me in his sleep. He could be sleeping with somebody else by now because he didn’t think I was ever coming back. He’d think my Cuban life swallowed me up whole.

  Nobody knows we’re out here. We could be drifting in the Atlantic. But the Atlantic waters would be dark and rough, and these waters remain a royal blue at their deepest and sometimes fade into swirls of turquoise.

  Lucinda, your eyes are the color of the ocean. When you open them and turn to me, it’s as if your eyes are giant round windows to the sea. I should be telling you this, but I can’t open my mouth, it is so dry. Did I tell you that Jeremy brings me coffee in the morning? He knows I like it with a little sugar and cream and he knows I have a favorite cup. He’ll probably bring you coffee in the morning too. Would you like that? You don’t answer me, but that’s because you’re conserving your energy just like I am.

  Isn’t if funny how we don’t sleep or wake? We’re asleep and awake at the same time. But I know when I’m more asleep than awake because for an instant I’m not thirsty anymore. I’m dreaming of swimming in drinking water. I’m pouring soft drinks over ice cubes that crack and swish in the glass like maracas. There is a strong gush of water pouring out of my mouth. It’s so strong I can’t close it. It pushes out my teeth and hurts my throat if I try to swallow against it. This is worse than the constant thirst I can understand and fight against with my mind. I cannot take this anymore. I hope you don’t feel this, I hope to God you don’t.

  Dark clouds gathered as the sun set. Another day passed like a universe of time forgotten. The waves deepened and peaked in their shadows and a grayish gloom surrounded us when we came out from under the blanket. I felt a rain drop on my nose and then another. Tiny droplets perched on Lucinda’s thick eye lashes causing her to blink curious eyes. The torrent of rain came all at once. I scooped the water out with Manuel’s shoes and directed Lucinda to drink from the bottom of the boat. I did the same. Thank God we hadn’t lost our empty water bottles and I was able to fill one half way before the rain stopped, before Lucinda vomited the water she’d gulped in a frenzy. I v
omited too. We’d been drinking water thick with the filth of our bodies for almost a week. We lost all the water we drank and maybe more, but it had absorbed into our skin and washed off the hazy salt film. Our blanket was wet and so were we, but we slept deeper than a trance that night. We sipped sweet water from the bottle little bits at a time and watched the stars circle above us.

  Lucinda, did I tell you about the time your mother and I planned to run away from home? She wanted to rescue me from becoming a nun. We were certain we’d have much more fun as showgirls. The showgirl idea was your mother’s. In fact, most of the ideas were hers, but she was always looking out for me. She was very brave and I always wished I could be more like her. She was the most beautiful and smartest girl I ever knew. When she walked down the street, every eye was on her, every word of praise, every second glance. She walked with eyes forward, back straight, neither proud nor ashamed, just happy to be who she was and where she was.

  Lucinda, listen to me. If Jeremy doesn’t want me anymore, will you be happy living just with me? There’s a chance, a big chance, that he won’t, you see. Yes, he loves me, he just doesn’t understand that I had to stay longer. I couldn’t leave you and now we may both die here together. I’m not afraid to die, Lucinda. Your Mami died so easily in my arms that afternoon on the beach. She took a deep breath that quivered just a little and then she just died as beautifully as she lived. I miss her so much.

  Take my hand, Lucinda. I want you to hold this. It’s the candle your Mami left for me. I brought it in the bag with the oranges. I have matches and if they’re not wet I can light it when it’s night. I knew you’d want to see it too. I can put it right here on the bench so we can both look at it when we lay down. Isn’t it so beautiful? I knew you’d like it. Now we can sleep here and feel safe. The light will protect us from all harm.

  Somebody’s pushing on my face and rubbing at my eyes and stretching me backward and forward. I reach for Lucinda, but she’s no longer next to me. I try to sit up and many hands hold me down against a rough surface like sandpaper that smells of plastic and bleach. Men are speaking around me, soft muffled words that drift in and out. I must find Lucinda. She may have fallen in the water and she’s blind and she can’t swim. Don’t you understand what I’m telling you? I have to find Lucinda!

  “Lucinda is fine. She’s very dehydrated, but she’s sleeping peacefully below deck.” I can hardly open my eyes, but I know Jeremy’s voice and those are his hazel eyes gazing down on me. “And you’re fine too, my love. Thank God.”

  I want to speak to you, I want to speak to you, Jeremy, but I can’t make the words.

  He runs trembling fingers across my forehead and I look more fully into eyes swollen and tired from lack of sleep and weeping. Mine want to close, but I’m afraid when they open again, he’ll be gone.

  He whispers in my ear. “Beba called me the morning you left. She said you weren’t able to make it onto the ship and that I should search for you at sea. We’ve been searching all week and we found you both this morning, right before the sun came up. We were turning back when we saw the smoke. The boat was burning right underneath you. We would never have found you if not for the smoke.”

  Jeremy cradles me in his arms as he weeps and kisses my face again and again. “All that matters is that we’re going home, my love. You and me and Lucinda, we’re going home.”

  38

  IT IS AS IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN, THE SEA A TURQUOISE BLUE FADING into a sky bluer still. Alicia and I wonder whether we should disturb the calm waters with a swim or whether we should stay right where we are, sitting on the sand side by side, our eyes half closed to the sun. One of us will soon break the silence with a thought about this or that. Usually it is Alicia, so I wait for her to draw in her breath and speak to me, and all the while it is the whispering sea I hear, and the wind calling my name…

  “She opened her eyes. I’m sure she did.” Mami’s voice reverberated in my head with such clarity that if I hadn’t opened them before, and they flew open to look at her now. She was almost falling over the railing at the side of the bed, peering at me with swollen eyes, a handkerchief clutched between her fingers. Papi was next to her, calming her as best he could, but his voice was a bit shaky as well; neither of them looked quite as I remembered them. My eyes focused beyond a mild haze of pain and I realized they’d both lost a bit of weight and their faces were drawn from lack of sleep. I could only imagine how I must look to them.

  The fear in their eyes flared anew when I attempted to move my mouth to speak. I felt an enormous boulder pressing down on my diaphragm squeezing the breath and the life out of my lungs, but I managed to squeak out a question just the same.

  “Where’s Jeremy?”

  Mami released herself from Papi’s arms and lunged across the bed before he could stop her. “He’s here, Nora. Oh my God, my baby, my sweet Nora,” and she collapsed in a chair and began to sob as she had been for days, no doubt.

  Papi leaned forward, trying to contain his emotion for my sake, but his hand trembled on my arm and he squeezed down in such a way that betrayed his own quiet desperation. “Jeremy’s fine, Lucinda’s fine and so are you.”

  I tried to reach for Papi’s hand, but felt the discomfort of a foreign object in my nose. I went to remove it, but Papi gently stopped me. “The tubes are there to help you breath, but they’ll take them out soon enough, you’ll see.”

  I nodded and allowed him to guide my hand back down to my side. “Where am I?”

  Mami had regained her composure and pulled her chair forward so she was almost at eye level with me. She slipped her hand through the bed railing and squeezed my shoulder. “We’re in the hospital in Miami. Lucinda is here too in the pediatric ward. Jeremy’s with her now, but I’m sure he’ll be back down soon. He hasn’t left your side for two days.”

  “As soon as we heard you were found,” Papi continued, “we took the first plane we could get. We arrived yesterday and we’ll stay as long as you need us, Norita.”

  Tears slipped down my cheeks and I felt like a child again, as frail and vulnerable as one who’d been caught in a terrible lie. But I had to ask the question and be rid of the burning anxiety I’d felt ever since I’d gone against their wishes and left for Cuba. “Are you still angry with me?”

  Mami was the first to speak, as I knew she would be and the strain in her voice was palpable and thick on her tongue. “What you did was a foolish thing, Nora. For a child who was never prone to foolishness it was beyond understanding and I can only say…” Her eyes began to steam, and Papi placed a soothing hand on her back as if reminding her of something they’d spoken about earlier.

  “Nora’s not a child anymore,” he said gently.

  Mami sniffed, and the recollection of their previous conversations cooled her considerably. “No, she’s not a child anymore.” She released her anger with a sigh and looked upon me with such hope and love, that I could only smile back at her, my face stiff with what felt like the first smile I’d been able to manage in weeks.

  In the evening when we were alone, Jeremy climbed into bed with me, careful not to disturb the various tubes and lines attached to my arm and face. He rested his head on my shoulder and settled himself in as best he could.

  I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that the humming of the equipment all around us was the whispering surf or the wind in the palms, but I was unable to conjure up a vision that might calm me. The dread I’d felt before we were rescued came upon me in waves as though we were still at sea fighting for our lives.

  “I have exciting news,” Jeremy said softly in my ear. “The doctors believe there may be hope for Lucinda, that she could regain some of her vision. It’s not certain and I haven’t said anything to her yet, but they’re already making inquiries at UCLA.”

  My heart beat furiously upon hearing this, and I longed to rip out all the wires attached to me and go to her. “When can I see her? I have to see her, Jeremy.”

  “Tomorrow. I promise that first
thing in the morning I’ll look into it. And she’s doing well, my love. She’s an amazingly strong child, and when she sees you it’ll make her all the stronger.”

  His breathing grew deep and relaxed and I thought he’d fallen asleep when he spoke. “Don’t leave me again, Nora. Don’t you ever leave me again.”

  Back in California, Mami arrived daily with Cuban casseroles and desserts of all kinds to help us recover from our ordeal. Lucinda could hear her car down the street before Jeremy and I heard her in the drive. She’d open the front door before Mami had rung the doorbell and follow her into the kitchen full of delight and awe at the feasts that revealed themselves out of brown paper bags and layer after layer of aluminum foil and plastic wrap. In spite of packing that would put the NASA space program to shame, Lucinda was able to clearly detect the delectable aromas of ropa vieja, carne con papas, and arroz con pollo.

  Mami presented her meals on TV trays for us in bed because I was too tired to sit at the table. She stood back and waited eagerly with arms crossed until we took our first bites.

  “This is delicious, Abuela Regina,” Lucinda declared and Mami beamed with satisfaction at both the compliment and that Lucinda had called her Abuela.

  I remembered how distant Mami had been with Lucinda when they first met in Miami. I expected as much. Mami had always been stubbornly loyal to her traditional values and in matters of the heart and life and family, she did not easily accept defeat. She’d been openly critical of Alicia’s marriage to Tony for too long to accept Lucinda right away, especially with everybody looking on. I think she blamed her too for putting me at risk. In fact, for those first few days, Lucinda seemed to be the embodiment of all that was wrong with Cuba since before and after the revolution.