Boy Who Said No : An Escape to Freedom (9781608090815) Page 15

  The room grew quiet as everyone mulled over what could happen. Sergio shifted in his chair. “Believe me, we understand what we’re asking,” he said. “And we would certainly understand if you said no. Thousands of people have died trying to escape this country.”

  Magda took a sharp intake of breath as the color drained from her face. “How exactly do they die?” she asked in a strangled voice. I could tell she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  Sergio paused for a moment, regarding his daughter with concern as he decided how to address her question. Since there was no way to sugarcoat the answer, he came down on the side of candor. His voice was soft, but his message was anything but. “The coast guard riddles escapees and their boats with so many bullets everything sinks. What’s left of their bodies is devoured by sharks. No evidence is left of their defection so Fidel isn’t embarrassed.”

  Suddenly it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Magda covered her mouth in horror and let out a gasp. Her body recoiled and a tear rolled down her cheek. I put my arm around her shoulder to comfort her. My mind was trying to block the picture her father had so vividly painted.

  A minute went by before Sophia spoke up. “We’ve talked it over and over, and it seems to be the only possible solution.”

  The thought of never seeing Magda again suddenly became very real. I was surprised at how devastated I felt. I looked at my sweetheart, my eyes hungry for her, like she was an ice sculpture melting in the noonday sun. Magda squeezed my hand and looked at me. “I can’t live without you, Frankie,” she said in a small, anguished voice. Her bottom lip quivered and a fine sheen of tears clouded my eyes.

  “I can’t live without you either, Magda.”

  I cleared my throat, sighed deeply, and looked at Magda’s family, these dear, sweet people who had embraced me so warmly. I was filled with an insufferable sadness that I’d never see them, or Magda, again. I couldn’t let that happen. Yet there were so many obstacles to overcome.

  I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes. Magda’s hand was warm in mine. Strange thoughts raced through my mind. Visions of dead, bloated bodies. Pictures of red, bloodied water. Images of skeletal remains. I shivered slightly and forced myself back to reality.

  “There’s no good alternative,” I said, thinking out loud. “If it’s at all possible, I can do it. But first I need some time to talk to someone.”

  Sergio looked startled. He was a thoughtful, cautious man and he didn’t want to take unnecessary chances. His body tensed and more than a trace of fear lined his voice.

  “Who?”

  “My grandfather,” I said.

  “I don’t think you should talk to anyone about this. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I can trust him. He’s always been there for me.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Sergio. He sounded apprehensive, nervous. “I don’t know your grandfather. What if he tells your grandmother, and she talks to someone else and it gets out? We don’t need a crowd of thugs throwing eggs at our doors. Or worse.”

  “My grandfather knows what to do and what not to do,” I assured him.

  Señor Hernández emitted a small, involuntary grunt. “We could all be killed.”

  I cut him short. “I’m perfectly aware of that. But if I’m going to do this, I must talk to Abuelo. He’s a fisherman. He knows things…”

  I rose and Señor Hernández followed suit. He put his hand on my shoulder and looked at me with such love I was afraid my voice would falter when I started to speak. I waited a moment to regain my composure.

  “There’s no time to talk to Abuelo tonight,” I said. “Which means I can’t talk to him until I come home on leave next month.”

  “We can’t wait that long.” Señor Hernández shook his head. “Is there some way you could talk to him sooner?”

  My mind was racing, wondering how I could engage Manny and Lazo to help me get off base to talk to Abuelo. “Let me think about it. I may be able to work something out.”

  Sergio nodded. “Okay, you do that. Now let’s get you back to base.”

  Magda and I climbed into the backseat of his car as the sun sank below the horizon. Magda wrapped a long scarf around her neck, and I pulled her to me, smelling her hair, kissing her gently on the mouth, and hoping her father wouldn’t drive too fast.

  When I got back to the barracks, Manny immediately sensed that something was wrong.

  “You seem preoccupied. Is everything okay between you and Magda? Did you have a fight or something?”

  I looked at Manny, glad for such a kind, loyal friend. “I’m going to need your help,” I said.

  Manny put his hand on my shoulder. “What is it?”

  I looked around and lowered my voice to a whisper. “Magda’s family is planning to leave the country.”

  Manny whistled softly. “Jesus! That’s big.”

  “I know.”

  “How can I help?”

  “I need to talk to someone, and I need to do it quickly. It can’t wait until I go home on leave next month.”

  “I won’t ask you who,” said Manny. “I don’t want to know.”

  I nodded. “We have night guard duty together this week,” I said, thinking out loud.

  Manny got my drift. He shook a cigarette from his pack, lit it, and inhaled deeply. “It shouldn’t be too hard for me to cover for you. If we time it right, we can pull it off.” He blew a smoke ring. It wobbled as it rose in a wavy circle above his head and then dispersed into nothingness. I thought about how easily things could disappear into thin air, never to be seen again.

  “That’s what I thought,” I said. “If I leave after patrol around midnight, can you cover for me until six a.m.?”

  Manny nodded. “That should work.” He sounded optimistic. I was grateful for the sentiment. I needed all the optimism I could get. He cupped the palm of his hand and tapped a long cigarette ash into it.

  “Next week?”

  He nodded. “Okay. Next week.”

  CHAPTER 24

  The following night, I asked Lieutenant Brown for permission to call Magda from town. As usual, he promptly agreed. When I got to the phone booth, I picked up the receiver to call mi novia. I didn’t know who might be watching or listening. I was going to have to talk in code. I hoped Magda would be able to decipher what I was trying to say.

  “Hi, Magda, it’s me,” I said, trying to drain the anxiety from my voice.

  “How are you?”

  “Fine. I’m looking forward to our time together.”

  “Me, too.”

  “It might be fun if you picked me up in your new car on your next visit,” I said, hoping she’d understand that I didn’t want her parents to pick me up in their car, which could be easily recognized.

  “That would be fine. I’ll come with my aunt and uncle.”

  “Great!” I said, knowing she had picked up my implication. “We’ll go for a midnight stroll when I get home.”

  “How romantic.”

  “By the way, there’s a full moon next Thursday. When I look at it, I’ll think of you.”

  “I’ll think about you, too,” said Magda.

  “Remember that night we saw the full moon through the trees near that big curve in the road?” I asked.

  “Yes, it was such a beautiful night.”

  “Almost as beautiful as you.”

  “Can I do anything for you before I see you?”

  “Just think about me on Thursday night.”

  “I understand. I’ll put Thursday on my calendar.”

  “Okay. I’ve got to go now. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” said Magda.

  I held the receiver against my cheek for a moment before I hung up the phone. I looked around surreptitiously, relieved that there was no one in sight. My heart was pounding and my throat was parched. I straightened my shoulders and walked down the road, keenly aware of my surroundings.

  Back at base, my skills as a rocket launcher had
improved to the point where Brown had asked me to teach classes on the technical aspects of the ATGMs. He also gave me more authority over the unit, a development that irked Pino to no end.

  But Brown oversaw nonpolitical military matters, and Pino was in no position to challenge him. It created a great deal of friction between the two men. I wasn’t sure how it would all play out.

  Working together as much as we were, Lieutenant Brown and I were getting closer. Since that day when he had warned me about not crossing Lieutenant Pino, Manny, Lazo, and I had come to understand why he had not been promoted to captain. To rise to that rank, you had to join the Communist Party, and it was clear to us that Brown was loath to do so.

  One evening I had a long conversation with him that shed some light on his views. He told me that three generations ago his family had been captured and shipped from Haiti to Cuba and enslaved to work the coffee plantations. Since then the Browns had labored to gain their freedom, obtain an education, and become landowners.

  But under the Agrarian Reform Law, Castro had stripped the family of all their land. Many years of struggle and accomplishment were wiped out with the single stroke of a pen. The Browns hated Fidel with a passion, and the lieutenant had no stomach for the Communists—or their Party. It gave me some hope that he might not stand in the way of my escape.

  The following Thursday I went on night patrol with Manny. I quickly made my midnight rounds so I’d be sure to be seen by all the guards. I smiled and waved to them, and then slipped out the gate behind the base.

  Magda, Rigo, and Sophia were waiting in their car for me near the big curve in the road, a short distance from base. They dropped me off at my grandfather’s house, saying they’d be back to pick me up at five a.m.

  I turned the doorknob on my grandparents’ house and quietly let myself in. My grandmother was asleep, but Abuelo was sitting up in his chair reading the Bible. He had on his bathrobe and his beat-up slippers. A light from a floor lamp shone down on his gray head. He removed his glasses when he saw me, stood up, and greeted me with a hug.

  “Frankie, I’m so glad to see you. But what are you doing here at this time of night? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s okay. But I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

  “Of course. Sit down. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “No thanks, I just need to talk.”

  Abuelo nodded. “Let’s sit on the front porch then.”

  My grandfather wrapped his robe tightly around himself and we stepped outside. The screen door slammed behind us. The full moon lent enough light for us to see each other. A slight breeze waffled the evening air. Once he settled himself on the step, Abuelo nodded for me to continue.

  “I’ve got a problem I thought you could help me with.”

  Abuelo adjusted his body on the step. “I’ll certainly try.”

  “You know how much I love Magda.”

  “That’s obvious,” Abuelo said with a chuckle.

  “It’s not just a crush,” I said. “She’s everything I want in a woman, and I plan to marry her someday.”

  Abuelo smiled. “I figured as much. Is that what you want to talk about?”

  “No, actually…” I hesitated, knowing this would be the beginning of a very difficult conversation for both of us.

  “Actually?”

  “The problem is her family is planning to leave the country. Her brother and cousin are approaching draft age, and the whole family wants to get out.”

  A flash of fear crossed my grandfather’s eyes. He wrapped his arms around his knees, leaned his head forward, and groaned, almost imperceptibly. I watched him for a moment, suspecting from his reaction that he knew what I was planning. When he looked up, the lines in his forehead had deepened, his chest had shrunken, and his lips had drifted downward.

  “Where are they going? To Miami?”

  “To Miami first and then to a place called New Jersey.”

  “I’m sure you’ll miss her.”

  “That’s just the point. Magda says she won’t leave without me.”

  Abuelo shook his head, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “This isn’t good, Frankie.”

  “I know. I can’t leave Cuba for years because of the army.”

  “I’m aware of that. So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m thinking about escaping,” I said, watching for Abuelo’s reaction. I knew my words would break his heart. He pushed out a sigh. His eyes looked so sad I had to turn away.

  Abuelo blessed himself. “Dear God in heaven,” he murmured. He looked up and down the street. It was as quiet as a cemetery after dark. A broken soda bottle lay on the sidewalk and a tabby cat tiptoed around it.

  “I know it’s a big risk.”

  “A big risk? It’s beyond that, Frankie. Do you have any idea of the danger involved?”

  I nodded solemnly. “I know,” I said in a low, somber voice.

  “No, I don’t think you do,” said Abuelo. “They’ll hunt you down like a dog, shoot you in the back of the head, and leave your body to rot on the side of the road—if you’re lucky. If you’re not lucky, they’ll sink your boat and your body will be ripped to bloody shreds by hungry sharks.”

  I shivered a little, and Abuelo wrapped his arm around me.

  “I’m aware of the danger. I’ve talked about it with Magda’s family.” We sat in silence for a few minutes. Abuelo withdrew his arm from me and sat holding his head in his hands.

  Finally, he looked up at me and said, “And they agree with this?”

  “They’re worried, of course. But, yes.”

  Abuelo regarded the moon with skepticism, and when he spoke again there was a hitch in his voice. “Have you thought about your parents, your siblings?”

  “I’ve thought about them a lot,” I whispered.

  Abuelo looked at me. “You’ve had to leave them so many times already. Your poor mother—”

  “I know and I’m sorry about that.” I felt a lump forming in my throat just thinking about it.

  “It’s possible you may never see any of us again.”

  “Perhaps. But I have to take it one step at a time. There may come a day when, God willing, everyone can leave. Fidel could be overthrown. Who knows what the future may bring. But right now I have to follow my heart.”

  Abuelo nodded. “So you’ve thought it through? Slept on it? Explored all your options?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re willing to risk your life for this girl?”

  “I am—as long as there’s any chance of success.”

  Abuelo shook his head, “Let’s go inside. It’s getting chilly.”

  My grandfather and I walked up the stairs. I held the door for him while we stepped inside. I looked around the living room fondly, trying to memorize every square inch of it for posterity. This place held such poignant memories for me. Here was where I took my first steps, where I celebrated my birthdays, where I learned to read. Abuelo settled himself on the sofa, and I sat down next to him. He draped his arm protectively around my shoulder. He seemed more resigned to my leaving.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.

  “Well, you have a boat—”

  My grandfather withdrew his arm from around my shoulder. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, no, no!” Each no became louder and more pronounced than the previous one. I was startled at the intensity of his response. I looked at my grandfather in surprise. “Frankie, my boat is only fourteen-feet long. It’s no match for the ocean. You’d die for sure.”

  I sighed. “But if you could just get me into international waters, I could hitch a ride with an international patrol boat—or hop aboard one of the big commercial ships.”

  “International waters are a long way out. I doubt my boat would make it. And even if it could, there’s a matter of gas.”

  “Gas?”

  “Yes, I’d have to have enough gas to get myself there and back. And buying that much fuel would al
ert the authorities. They’d be suspicious immediately.”

  “I understand if you can’t help me.” I shrugged. “I just didn’t know where else to turn.”

  Abuelo looked almost angry. “You’ve put me in a difficult position, Frankie.”

  “How so?”

  “I can never tell anyone about this, not even your parents. If the authorities get wind of it, they’ll torture them for information.” A slight shudder ran through my grandfather’s body. Then it ran through my body. He thought for a moment. “What if you die, Frankie? How would I ever forgive myself?”

  I straightened my back and patted Abuelo on the shoulder.

  “I’m not going to die,” I said in the most reassuring voice I could muster.

  “The odds are against you, Frankie. You’ll have to outsmart some very smart people. Do you think you can do it?”

  “I’ll do my best,” I said and then thought for a moment. “Actually, I’ll do more than my best.” Abuelo looked at me wide-eyed. “Didn’t you once tell me to always do more than my best in matters of love?”

  My grandfather sighed and nodded. “Yes, I did. And that was good advice—still is.”

  “Well, I’m going to take your advice.”

  “You always have. I just never thought it would come to this.”

  My grandfather stood wearily. The conversation was over. “Let me think about it,” he said. “Talk to some people. But don’t you talk to anyone, you hear?”

  “I won’t,” I said, a little heartened.

  “When can you come back to see me?”

  “Three weeks from tonight. I’ll bring Magda’s father.”

  “Okay, I’ll ask around, come up with some ideas.” Abuelo looked very sad. And suddenly very old. “Give me a hug.”

  I stood and took my grandfather in my arms. I could feel the muscles in his back. He raised his hand to my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb the way he did when I was a little boy. He wrapped his arms around me, and I hugged him tighter than I had ever hugged him before.

  Back at base the time for another round of military exercises was fast approaching. I was now considered the force’s best operator, especially in light of my last performance in front of Raúl Castro and the other high-ranking military officers. Lieutenant Brown decided that I would be the only operator to demonstrate the rocket launch. He didn’t want to chance it with anyone else.