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Your Heart, My Sky

Page 7

by Margarita Engle

destined for restaurants in the city

  where tourists eat like kings

  while Cubans starve?

  Food Riot

  Liana

  While Amado is out roaming on his own,

  Paz and I notice women growing restless around

  the ration outlet, some of them boldly pounding

  wooden spoons

  against enamel

  pots and pans,

  as they shout

  ¡Hambre!

  demanding

  groceries.

  Hunger!

  I shout too.

  My brothers join me, bellowing

  as they add the sound of stamping feet,

  drumming their ragged shoes

  against the sidewalk,

  all of us risking arrest

  for screaming such an obvious

  truth.

  Private

  Amado

  The food riot changes everything.

  Police are suddenly everywhere.

  City planners.

  Government officials.

  Every sort of bureaucrat

  with the exception of those

  who control food supplies.

  A fence at the beach?

  We’ve been banished?

  An unwritten sign: Private. Exclusive.

  NO LOCALS ALLOWED.

  The fence needs no explanation.

  We know when we’re not welcome.

  When I try to jump over, a soldier

  chases me away.

  Endless

  Liana

  There is no limit to the number of beaches

  we can reach by hiking, but I long for the sand

  where Amado and I consumed that first

  seafood stew, behaving like merfolk

  from a myth, the singing dog

  our only witness.

  Disappearance

  Liana

  As if losing our beach

  were not enough turmoil

  now my brothers have abruptly

  vanished.

  In times as strange as these,

  some people become invisible.

  Rafters.

  Prisoners.

  Fugitives.

  They simply disappear,

  leaving families confused

  and desolate, like mine,

  Mami crying, Papi raging,

  Paz and I ricocheting

  back and forth

  between sobs

  and silence.

  Questions about Before and After a Disappearance

  Amado

  Were they arrested like my brother

  or did they invent a haphazard balsa

  like all those people in the cave?

  I’ve longed to build a raft too,

  but how can I face

  such an uncertain future?

  Did they float away?

  Will they survive?

  Should we follow them

  or stay and search, in case

  their raft

  breaks apart

  and washes ashore?

  What if

  weeks pass

  months

  years?

  What if

  we never

  know?

  Search!

  Liana

  When family members go missing

  the whole universe seems to vanish,

  so we walk with Paz between us,

  his nose on the ground sniffing footprints

  that I can barely see through a mist

  of tears and fears.

  Amado

  Streets, fields, beaches, caves—

  just like so many other secrets,

  the trail of a human

  is found by a canine tracking

  an aroma I can’t detect, so I have to trust

  Paz as he crouches at the edge of waves,

  a watery endlessness

  so impossible for humans

  to truly understand.

  Abandoned

  Liana

  They’ve hurled themselves into the sea!

  No farewell, note or clue, no words or embrace.

  When you live on an island that you’re not

  allowed to leave, each balsero who rows away

  carries your wishes along with his own,

  but when the rafters are your brothers

  they take more, so much more

  than daydreams.

  The yearning they carry is solid and real,

  like driftwood or sea glass, a wave-sculpted

  monument

  of grief

  sinking.

  Weary

  The singing dog

  The animal is exhausted.

  He doesn’t know how to protect anyone

  from the devastation of history.

  Hunger is a weapon that forces

  strong young people to flee,

  and now he’s left with the sorrowful silence

  of Liana’s whole family as they crouch

  around a radio all night, sleepless, listening.

  The Names of Survivors Ride Back to Us on Air Waves

  Liana

  We lean close to our old Russian radio, press our ears

  against empty air, and listen, listen, listen to voices

  from Florida

  reciting the names

  of survivors.

  We listen in darkness, because this foreign

  radio station

  is illegal.

  The name of each rafter who has reached Key West

  or Miami

  is a blessing

  for some other family

  just like ours.

  We know that if weeks pass

  without hearing that my brothers are safe,

  we can presume they’ve drowned

  but we won’t believe it, will we,

  we’ll imagine an unknown shore,

  some place

  from a map

  of an imaginary land

  like the ones in my mother’s

  old book of fairy tales,

  a landscape with centaurs and unicorns

  or children in rags who never give up

  when they’re assigned some impossible

  magical

  task.

  Vigil

  Amado

  Liana is unable to sleep

  or smile.

  Even if I felt calm enough

  to go out in search of food,

  she wouldn’t be peaceful enough

  to eat.

  As soon as the secret of her brothers’ absence

  is revealed to the police, her parents will be expected

  to denounce their sons for breaking the law,

  just as my parents were ordered to pretend

  that they were ashamed of my brother

  for his courageous

  protest.

  What If There Were Only Two People in the World?

  Liana and Amado

  Our embrace

  the only open spaces

  are gaps

  shared breath

  light

  air

  so that for at least one brief moment, we can

  rise

  far

  above

  this sadness

  and

  fear.

  Islanding

  Amado and Liana

  Anxiety all around us,

  we isolate arms, eyes,

  mouths

  minds.

  Together, we possess four legs,

  like one creature

  earthbound

  sea-surrounded…

  but we can’t bear the thought of bringing a child

  into this time of hunger,

  so we always

  stop

  short

  of creating

  new life.

  Dogs Know How to Wait, Wait, Wait

  The singing dog

  The loya
l creature teaches them with his example.

  Sit in one place, ears attentive, mind eager.

  Expect your vigil to be rewarded with results.

  Never let troubles convince you that you deserve

  anything less

  than absolutely devoted companionship.

  Always be ready for life to bring a reunion.

  Maybe Someday

  Liana

  Exhausting nights pass

  with no news from the radio.

  Daylight grows lonely, rain and sun

  now identical in their ability to deliver gloom.

  This effort of pretending to know nothing

  about any rafters becomes excruciating

  now that my brothers are the ones

  who have vanished, forcing us all to act

  normal, so that neighborhood spies

  won’t notice

  and report us.

  By postponing the inevitable discovery

  of the twins’ absence, we hope to give them

  more time to float toward safety

  without being pursued.

  Maybe someday soon, I’ll be able to smile or cry

  freely.

  Valley of the Nightingale

  Amado

  Flashlights with black market batteries

  allow us to explore deep caves by day,

  instead of just sitting around waiting

  to mourn or celebrate

  the way we do each night when we listen

  to names that radiate like eerie moonbeams

  from the radio.

  Glimpses of tree roots help us know

  that we’re not too far from the surface.

  Moisture drips down

  through hidden openings.

  An underground stream

  leads to

  bird songs.

  We emerge from dark caverns

  into a landscape of music and wings,

  sound and color so intense that the voice

  of each trilling ruiseñor

  is like a wound healed

  by distance, the vivid

  green

  of every palm frond

  and grass blade

  a promise—growth.

  We could farm here.

  No one would know.

  We could hide here.

  How much safer it would be

  than floating across the sea

  on a raft made of inner tubes

  and desperate strands

  of hope.

  Valley of Silence

  Amado

  Safety is an illusion.

  Any hidden refuge can be found,

  and with my military service looming,

  all I can offer Liana

  is a shared determination

  to keep our imaginations alive.

  Resolve.

  Invent.

  Struggle.

  Amar.

  Love—it’s that or build our own raft

  and leave

  our isla of hunger

  forever.

  Which should we choose, land

  or sea?

  Why So Quiet?

  Liana

  Amado’s stillness

  in our new valley of birdsong

  is disturbing.

  I imagine this is how it will be

  if we ever decide to flee like my brothers,

  with nothing around us but danger

  and nothing inside us but fear.

  Terror and wishes, the two

  always seem paired in this time

  of special starvation

  or drowning,

  an islander’s

  only

  choices.

  Fear in Two Voices

  Liana and Amado

  What if if only

  we float away together

  like brothers like others

  slow swift

  above a raft below a raft

  sun waves

  thirst lungs

  such a vague chance

  arrival

  survival

  relief

  belief

  breath

  What if

  we stay

  change

  things

  here

  fear

  if only…

  … What Would We Need?

  Liana

  Sunscreen, fish hooks, compass, courage.

  The army is voluntary for women,

  but men have to serve in the reserves

  until they’re fifty, so if Amado stays here

  he’ll be trapped for nearly four decades,

  half a lifetime, such a sacrifice!

  Should he leave, could I join him, or am I

  too cowardly to trade earthbound hunger

  for saltwater

  thirst?

  He finally admits that this is the dilemma

  he has been considering, the subject he’s been

  so reluctant to discuss, simply because

  its possibilities are as vast and risky

  as the whole universe, with countless

  black holes and other incomprehensible

  dangers.

  Simple Verse

  Liana

  All we really need is one windblown week

  to carry us beyond dreams of returning

  so that arrival is our only yearning

  no matter how distant the shore we seek.

  Nothing Is Simple

  The singing dog

  Arms and minds entwined, humans forget

  that even at sea, where waves offer rhythm

  and rhyme, music is more than words.

  Sound, sight, scent,

  all the various aspects of air

  blend and tangle in a way

  that demands attention.

  While Liana and Amado argue

  about their future

  all I can do is lead them

  back to the edge

  of wonder.

  Nothing Seems Real

  Amado and Liana

  caves and beach

  both feel imaginary

  as we follow

  a branched pathway

  of uncertainty

  questions

  are endless—

  what if

  and

  if only

  both seem like something

  more permanent than choices

  undecided

  we linger on solid land

  wondering

  which to embrace—rolling waves

  or each other

  At Last!

  Liana

  Just when everything

  begins to seem as impossible as happiness,

  the voice of a stranger on the radio

  pronounces:

  Sereno del Río Alegría

  Segundo del Río Alegría

  They’ve washed ashore near Tampa—

  far off-course if Miami was their true goal,

  but who can map the wind that drives an ocean?

  Who can say that two full weeks

  of sunburn, hunger, horror,

  uncertainty, and deadly thirst

  are not worth the risk

  of arrival

  survival

  belief

  breath

  food

  life?

  Beachcombers

  Liana

  No more wishing.

  My brothers are safe, and even though

  our family is now marked by suspicion

  of counterrevolutionary sentiments,

  the global competitions are ending,

  athletes will leave, and if any tourists stay,

  they’ll probably be fed by the government

  on a private beach, in some air-conditioned

  hotel restaurant

  that hasn’t been invented yet.

  School, homework, uniforms, tests, hunger,

  our future—if
we stay—seems so grim

  that with Paz beside me, I stroll along the shore

  of an unfamiliar beach, searching for bits

  of flotsam and jetsam that Amado and I can use

  to build our own raft,

  a magic carpet to float us away

  from empty bellies

  and hollow hopes.

  Silence Is a Form of Protest

  Amado

  In order to keep their jobs, Liana’s parents

  are forced to denounce the twins.

  They have to call their sons traitors,

  but Liana assures me that she won’t

  do the same.

  If a teacher,

  secret policeman,

  or neighborhood spy

  demands the recitation

  of some absurd statement,

  she won’t insult her brothers.

  The people we love are simply family,

  she assures me, not complex

  inexplicable

  historical

  ideals.

  Imaginary Rafts

  Liana and Amado

  Mi vida, my life, my love, ours—one, not two,

  and yet somehow doubled—two, not just one.

  We hold hands to decide whether to walk forever

  on our island of hidden caves, eyes focused

  on the aerial horizon

  instead of dark depths.

  Or should we risk

  sinking?

  We need this view of distance.

  Imagine traveling on a ship or airplane,

  such safety, sheer freedom.

  All we have in our shared hearts

  is one imaginary raft—

  How should we use it?

  Climb aboard or set it loose,

  let that alternate future

  drift away?

  Discovery

  The singing dog

  Sniffing and seeking, the dog finds a tiny baby

  left alone on hot sand,

  helpless beneath scorching sun,

  like a patient mirror of adult misery.

  She’s a startling sight,

  wrapped so tightly in a blanket

  that is far too warm for tropical weather,

  like a bundle of dangerous secrets

  in a black market vendor’s sack of contraband.

  Her dark eyes gaze upward,

  risking damage from the powerful blaze

  of intense sunlight.

 

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