Mission Libertad (19 page)

“Look at that,” Tommy said, glued to the TV set.

“It's amazing!” said Sonia, still in her pajamas.

“What happened?” Luisito asked. A breaking news segment showed people in Miami, some in their cars honking their horns, others running through the streets with signs that read
Cuba
Libre! A Free Cuba!

People of all ages were shown waving the Cuban single-star flag out their car windows. Some people being interviewed in the streets were choked up with emotion.

“This may be the end of communism in Cuba!” an agitated man said. “The Cuban people can't stand it anymore!”

The newscaster began talking about reports of a Cuban bus crashing into the Peruvian embassy. When the bus crashed, toppling the iron gate, hundreds of Cuban people took refuge inside, begging for political asylum. Now boat after boat was arriving in Cuba to pick up refugees and take them to Miami.

There was silence in the room. Everyone was shocked by what they were watching taking place in Cuba and by the reaction in Miami. Tommy and Sonia had wide-open mouths. Miguel was hugging Elena as she bit her nails.

“What does this mean? Will they let them stay in the embassy?” Luisito wanted to know.

“I suppose so,” José said. “This is just incredible.”

“The desperation of these people . . . it's overwhelming!” Rosie said. “They just dropped what they were doing and ran right in through the gate, without a change of clothes or anything.”

“This flotilla may be only the beginning of a massive exodus,” the TV reporter announced.

“That's it!” Luisito said, jumping up from his seat. “This is what Abuela meant us to prepare for all along. This is the beginning of something big!”

He rushed to the phone to call Father René de Jesús, who was also watching the television reports and had come to the same conclusion. Father had just called Catholic Charities and asked them to start preparing to help all the refugees that were arriving.

For days, the whole family was glued to the television. The Cuban government, humiliated by the events, said in a statement that anyone who wanted to leave the island could. They saw this as a great opportunity to get rid of all the “problem-causing” citizens: frustrated young people, prisoners, and mental hospital patients. Boats arriving in Cuba from Florida to pick up relatives were forced to take whomever else the government put on their boats. Ninety thousand Cubans arrived in the United States in the month of May alone.

The Cuban government began to discredit the people leaving so they would have a hard time being accepted in the United States. They labeled everyone
“la escoria,”
slang meaning “the scum.” Now with all the unrest on the island, there was no way of communicating with Abuela. Although no one said it, everyone feared the worst.

Hours after boarding the boat, Abuela started recognizing some familiar faces. In the front of the boat was a family of four. She had seen them before in line at the doctor's office. She saw a female doctor from the hospital, along with some fishermen and several farmers she didn't know by name.

For the next few hours, the weather complied, but the waves were very choppy. She closed her eyes. It was cloudy, so the heat was bearable for now.

“Here, grandmother, take some,” the boat's owner said, handing her a water bottle.

They passed out bottles of water for everyone. Abuela took small sips. The water refreshed her dry lips and throat.

The boat was so crowded she wasn't sure if the sweat on her arms was hers or the man's beside her. The spray from the waves gently splashed her face and she felt some relief. Her white-laced blouse was covered with black grease stains. It must have happened when the men helped her onboard. The lace on her collar was torn, and the hemline of her pants was ripped on one side. She held on tightly to her purse. Afraid to lose her rosary, she placed it around her neck.

She held onto the cross with her hand and prayed during the whole trip. It wasn't just a prayer. It was more of a desperate plea to God and his Mother to protect them all from any storms and from capsizing with so many people on board. She fervently prayed for everyone to keep calm and be at peace. Her thoughts drifted from prayer to worries. She thought about her poor family not knowing about her all this time. If the boat capsized and she died, no one would know she was on board. She hadn't told anyone she was going to the embassy, and no one except those on the boat knew she was there. Would she ever get to see her family again? She preferred to focus on how happy their faces would be when they found out about her arrival. That thought kept her strong.

It was heart-wrenching to have no news from Abuela. It became harder and harder to get any calls through to Cuba now because everyone was trying to call their relatives. Elena finally got a call through to the neighbors. They confirmed that they hadn't seen Abuela and that she hadn't responded to the knocks on her door. Finally, one neighbor pried the door open and found no Abuela and no sign of a struggle. Miguel and Elena knew that when someone disappeared unexpectedly it often meant that the government had kidnapped them.

It was unbearable to think that Abuela may have been tortured and put to death. Luisito and his parents tried finding comfort at church.

It was difficult for Miguel and Elena because they still couldn't communicate well enough in English to speak to the priest. Elena felt empty every time she went to Mass because she couldn't understand English well enough.

One day after Mass, Elena was standing to the side as Rosie and José chatted with the priest. An older priest, Father Carlini, stopped to say hello.

“Where are you from, Elena?” he asked after they had introduced themselves.

“Cuba, Father,” she replied.

“Cuba? Ah, there is so much going on there right now. Do you still have family there? Have you heard from them?”

Elena paused. There was so much she wanted to tell the priest, so much to ask his advice about, but she couldn't say it in English. “I'm sorry . . . my English . . .”

“It's okay. I understand,” Father Carlini said. He took out a piece of paper and wrote down the name of a priest from another parish who spoke Spanish.

“He can help you,” the priest said slowly so she could understand him. “I am sorry I don't speak Spanish, but soon we will have a Spanish priest at our parish. There are a lot of Spanish-speaking people coming, and we want to help them with a Mass in their language.”

“Gracias,”
Elena said happily.

“Miguel, look,” Elena said excitedly on the way home. “I have the name and phone number of a priest who speaks Spanish!”

Several times in the next few weeks, Elena and Miguel visited Father José Perez. He was from Honduras, and he spoke English and Spanish. They were able to go to confession
in Spanish, and Father Perez counseled them and provided much support for them in this difficult time.

“Never lose hope, never!” he repeated to them.

The weeks passed, and still no word of Abuela. In the midst of their worry, everyone was preparing for Easter. On Holy Saturday evening, they were all getting ready for the Easter Vigil Mass. It was a very important day for Luisito and a group of five other people who had been preparing for months. At this Mass, they would be receiving the sacraments and becoming members of the Church. Luisito had been secretly baptized in Cuba, but he had not received his first Communion or Confirmation. During his preparation, he not only learned about the sacraments and why it was important to receive them, but he also studied the faith and asked many questions. This was only the beginning of his journey in the faith. He felt a strong desire to continue to learn as much as he could. It was in learning about God that Luisito felt closer to him. It made him want to pray and learn more about being a Christian.

Luisito looked at himself in the mirror and thought about the past several months. He had learned so much about God and how different his life was with God in it now. He gelled his blond hair with his fingers and ran a comb through it.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Then it rang again, more urgently. It was probably Maricusa and Manuel, Luisito thought. They had said they were coming to see Luisito receive first Communion and Confirmation. Everyone was still getting dressed, so Luisito ran downstairs and opened the door.

“
Hola
, Maricusa,” he said. “I am so glad you made it to my special day!”

Maricusa and Manuel came in and closed the door behind them.

“Everyone, Maricusa and Manuel are here!” Luisito yelled.

Everyone flocked to the door to hug Maricusa and Manuel.

“Mami, you should have let us pick you up at the airport,” Rosie said. “Why did you want to take a taxi?”

“My dear, you pick me up all the time. I knew you would be busy today with preparations for Luisito's big day,” Maricusa said. Then, looking around, she asked, “Where is your mother, Luisito?”

“Mami, come on! We are waiting for you,” Luisito yelled.

Elena came downstairs, straightening her new coral-pink dress. She looked at everyone in amazement.

“What's going on?” she asked. Then she saw Maricusa, her mother's sister, who reminded her so much of her mother. She gave her a big hug.

“We still haven't heard from Mother,” Elena whispered to her sadly.

The doorbell rang again and Luisito went to open the door.

He gasped. He stood there, dumbfounded. Was he dreaming? Right in front of his eyes stood Abuela! A much thinner and frailer Abuela, but his dear Abuela all the same!

The silence in the room erupted into shrieks of crying and laughing.

“Abuela! Abuela!” was all Luisito could say as he hugged her tighter and tighter.

Elena and Miguel, teary eyed, embraced her.

“How did this happen?” Elena asked her mother, still embracing her.

“It's a long story,” Abuela said, looking up with teary eyes from hugging Luisito.

“Come in, sit down,” Rosie said pointing to the sofa.

“You can't imagine,” Abuela said. “You remember Mati, our former housekeeper? She took me to the Peruvian embassy a few days before the bus crashed there. The horrible things I saw there . . . the people were desperate. It is difficult to speak about.”

“Well, tell us, how did you get here?” Miguel wanted to know.

“I was thrown into a boat, all with the help of Mati, who had heard that the Communists were after me. I owe it all to her.”

“Where is she now?” Luisito asked.

“She stayed in Miami with a relative. Maricusa is going to help her settle in and find work,” Abuela said. “Oh, my Luisito, you look so different, a grown-up man now.”

“When did you arrive?” Elena asked.

“Just yesterday, I received a call,” Maricusa said. “We picked her up at a hangar filled with thousands of refugees.”

“Over one hundred thousand!” Manuel chimed in.

“But Tía, why didn't you call us?” Elena said.

“It was my idea. I wanted to come up here to see you in person,” Abuela said. “Besides, I looked like a wreck when I arrived!”

“
Al
fin, Abuela
. We are finally together!” Luisito said.

“My dear little one, who is not so little anymore,” Abuela said smiling. “You accomplished the mission for me. Maricusa told me all about it. I knew you could do it!”

“Oh, Abuela, that's another story,” Luisito said. “I have so many things to tell you.”

“Well, we have to be going or else you will not be able to receive the sacraments!” Miguel said.

Abuela listened to Luisito's story about the Cuban spies on the way to church.

“I'm very proud of you, Luisito!” Abuela said. “You were so clever and brave!”

“Just like my grandmother!” Luisito said, and he gave her a big kiss.

They could hear bells ringing from the church tower as they approached the Sacred Heart Church parking lot. The altar was filled with baskets of white calla lilies and other spring flowers. The mood was as joyous inside the building as it was in Luisito's heart. Pews were crowded with parishioners greeting one another. Little girls wore festive spring hats with pastel dresses and matching white purses. The younger boys restlessly turned around in the pews and waved at people coming in. The choir stood tall in the section by the altar, wearing long white and purple robes. Some people were passing out small candles for the entrance procession.

Luisito scanned the space and located his Maryland relatives sitting all together in the front. He saw them whispering to one another as he walked in with his grandmother, probably asking themselves,
Is
it
really
her?
Then Maricusa, who was walking in with them, pointed
at Abuela and nodded her head. Luisito had to let go of Abuela's arm as his cousins came rushing down the aisle to hug her. Tears started running down his cheeks. When he had first arrived in this country he had been so happy to have made the journey alive that there was no room for any other emotion. It was different with his grandmother. He had thought she was dead. And now here they were in church, the place that reminded him so much of Abuela, that gave him strength and peace. It was so meaningful that this was the day he was reunited with Abuela. It was like God's present to him.