Boy Who Said No : An Escape to Freedom (9781608090815) (19 page)

This wasn't the first time I had felt this way. I wasn't sure whether I was being watched on Pino's orders or whether I was imagining it. Nothing would surprise me. I made a mental note to be especially careful about what I said and did while on leave.

While the Hernándezes were concerned about Magda, they were also worried about me. They loved us both and the thought of leaving either of us behind was horrifying. Having come up with no answers, they decided to talk to me about the problem.

On Sunday night after dinner at Uncle Rigo and Aunt Sophia's house, the adults sent young Rigo and Sergio outside to play so we could have a serious conversation. I sat next to Magda on the living room couch and rearranged the pillow behind me. A cool breeze rustled the silk drapes as we sat drinking Cuba libres. My eyes fell on the slice of lime perched on the rim of my tall, frosted glass, and I thought about how fortunate I was to be with Magda and her family. Despite the conditions in Cuba, when we were together we usually had fun.

Señor Hernández startled me out of my reverie. “Frankie, we have a problem.” He had a very serious look on his face, more serious than I had ever seen. I straightened up.

“What's that?”

“The family has decided to emigrate to the States so young Rigo and Sergio don't have to go into the army. We need to apply for our visas very soon.” He hesitated. “As you can imagine, this is very privileged information.”

“I understand,” I said, although my mind was reeling with the implications of what he was saying.

“I have the feeling we are being watched, and I don't want to draw any attention to the situation,” he said.

My mind drifted back to the day at the beach. Maybe it was Magda who was being watched instead of me. There were so many strange things going on in the country, one could never be sure. I looked at Magda in shock. Her eyes were glazed, and she wiped a tear away with her fingertips.

“Where would you go?” I asked.

“To Miami first. Then to New Jersey.”

I nodded, never having heard of New Jersey. I was too shocked at the news to ask where it was. “I see,” I said, trying to suppress my emotions. “When?”

“As soon as we figure out what to do,” said Señor Hernández. He looked anxious and a little perplexed.

“I'm sorry. What to do?”

“Magda says she won't go with us.” Sergio looked at his daughter with sympathetic eyes and then turned his gaze on me. He coughed and cleared his throat. “Which puts us in a very difficult position.”

I was speechless, trying to absorb what he was saying.

“I'm confused,” I said.

“It's pretty simple. Magda's says she loves you and she's not going anywhere without you.”

I looked at Magda. Her jaw was set and that stubborn look I knew so well was etched like chalk on her face. She was one determined young lady. I took her hand in mine and placed it on my knee. I was feeling sad and befuddled.

“Of course,” I said. “I love her, too. We've even discussed getting married someday. But the army would never let me leave. I'm sure you all know that.”

Everyone nodded their heads in the affirmative. We sat in silence for a moment, thinking.

Estel coughed before she spoke. “We were wondering—” I tilted
my head in her direction and looked into her deep brown eyes. She licked her lips and cleared her throat. “Would you be willing to take a chance to escape Cuba?”

I blinked at this unexpected turn in the conversation. “You mean by boat?”

“Yes, by boat.”

I looked at her thoughtfully and rubbed my forehead, gauging my response. I was in great physical shape, the best I had ever been in my life. I had been well trained in escape tactics in case I was ever captured by the marines. And if anyone was worth risking my life for, it was Magda. On the other hand, I was in a top-security facility and escaping would be difficult, if not well-nigh impossible.

“I don't know,” I said thoughtfully. “It's not something I could promise right off the bat. I'd have to do some investigating.” Magda squeezed my hand tighter and beamed at me. I thought my heart would melt.

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.

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