Read 90 Miles to Freedom Online

Authors: K. C. Hilton

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Thriller

90 Miles to Freedom (11 page)

BOOK: 90 Miles to Freedom
13.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads


This is great,” Collin said, grinning. “You’re right. This is a real treat. It’s illegal for Americans to buy Cuban cigars and bring them into the country. That’s too bad because anyone can buy them and smoke them in other countries, like in Canada and England. I’ve heard they’re terrific.”


Well,” Adelio said, handing one cigar to Collin. “You’re not buying a Cuban cigar or bringing it into your country, my friend. You are simply going to smoke a Cuban cigar.”

Collin accepted the cigar. “Well, now that you put it that way I guess it’s okay,” he said, chuckling.

Adelio took another sip of his drink and set it down. “If your country would only lift the embargo, we could sell our cigars to America. Then maybe our country would not be so poor. I know they would want our cigars, and it seems to me that Americans spend a great deal of money on things they want. Maybe more than what they spend on things they need.”

Collin laughed. “When my country lifts the embargo, your country will be overwhelmed by Americans.” Adelio looked confused, and Collin clapped one friendly hand on his shoulder. “Cuba will be invaded by American tourists. As my mom always says, be careful what you wish for!”

 

 

Chapter 19

 

Cuban Departure Day 2

 

My shivering body welcomes the morning sun. I did not sleep well. It was cold during the night and my body needs to be warm. Especially with my sunburned skin. I should have brought a small blanket or sheet to use as a cover during the night, and to shield myself from the daytime sun. I never thought I would need a blanket. In my eagerness to leave I only thought about the necessities. I only brought the things I thought I absolutely needed. I should have let my wife help me with the details.

I should have brought a hat, too. My hands, face, neck, ears, feet and legs are severely burned. I tried to stay covered as much as I could during the day yesterday, but I did not do a very good job. I paddled for the majority of the day yesterday and when I did that I exposed most of my skin to the sun.

I need to paddle again today but I am not sure I will be able to do that. My muscles and hands are extremely sore, and I’m not sure the blisters on the palms of my hands can get any worse. I will do as much as I can.

It is very important that I paddle as much as possible because I do not want to get caught. I’m not sure how far away I am from either country now. If my calculations are correct, it should take me a minimum of two more full days to reach American waters. Late this evening will be the point when I have been out here for two full days. If I am spotted by a Cuban fishing boat or military plane before then, I will be caught. I must paddle harder today. I must.

I pray for good winds today. Winds that will help send me to America. If the wind pushes me towards Cuba I will only go backwards. No breeze is better than a bad wind.

I think it would be wise for me to rest a little while longer and let the sun warm my body. Then I will eat to keep up my strength. I can already tell the sun is going to be hot today. The morning air is heavy and the sky is clear with no clouds to give me any relief. This is going to be another long day.

I remember hearing of a newly married couple that left Cuba as I am doing. Their small vehicle was found abandoned near the beach. Nobody knows if they ever made it safely to America or whether they died during their journey. Their families claim they don’t know anything about their illegal departure. Or if they do they aren’t telling anyone. I wonder what provisions two people would have brought. I wonder if they brought a blanket.

I cannot imagine subjecting my wife and son to these elements. I would never have made them come, or have asked them to risk their lives. Especially my boy. If it was just my wife and I, perhaps she would be with me. But I could not bear seeing them suffer as I am now.

 

*  *  *

 

Evening

 

I paddled more today but not nearly as much as I wanted to. I was extremely tired. I paddled for a while then took a rest, then I tried to do more. My body is drained of strength. The palms of my hands are bleeding and I had to rip my shirt so I could wrap them. I should have done that to begin with so they would have been protected from the blisters. I never thought of that until yesterday.

I removed my long-sleeved shirt and submerged it in water, and the salt water stung my bleeding hands. I did not want to keep them in the water long because I know the sharks can smell blood from miles away. I used the wet shirt to cover my head and help keep me cool during the hottest hours of the day. Doing this exposed more of my upper body to the sun, but the drenched shirt did seem to help keep me cool.

It’s cold again tonight. My shirt is not entirely dry because I kept it wet throughout the day, and now I can’t stop shaking. I feel sick to my stomach. It would be a waste of food to try to eat. I most likely have sun poisoning. Nothing I can do about that now. To make it worse, the shivers will prevent me from getting any decent sleep.

I don’t like night time on the water because I cannot see the creatures around me. A shark could easily attack my raft while I am asleep. Because of this I am hesitant to sleep for any long period of time. Not that I’ll be able to sleep anyway, but I must stay aware of my surroundings. A few days without proper sleep will be worth it.

The authorities must be aware of my departure by now. They have more than likely questioned my wife, my family and friends. My wife and my son are the only people who know the truth of where I am and where I am going. They will not tell. My wife will pretend that I have left her and my son for another woman. She will cry the tears of a scorned woman and curse my existence to make them believe her story. The tears will come easy because she will be worried about me and miss me anyway. She cried when we rehearsed the possible questioning. It’s what we planned and it was a good plan.

I miss my family. I don’t even have a photo of them. I wish I could talk to them and hug them. I remind myself often that I am doing this because I love them. I cannot fail. Failing is not an option. I must succeed.

Only a few more days to go. I can do this.

 

 

Chapter 20

 


What most people don’t know,” Collin said, “is that President Kennedy loved Cuban cigars. And before he signed the embargo he gave his press secretary less than twenty four hours to round up a bunch of his favorite Cuban cigars. The press secretary didn’t let him down and he managed to scrounge up twelve hundred cigars for the President’s personal stash.” Collin chuckled, then continued, sounding subdued. “When you’re the president of the United States, I suppose you can get just about anything you’d like.”

Adelio dropped his chin to his chest and thought for a moment before speaking again. “My mother use to roll cigars when she was alive.”

Collin held the cigar to his nose and inhaled its savory aroma. “I have been told that Cuban cigars are rolled on the thighs of young virgins,” Collin said shyly. “Is that based on any kind of truth?”

The fact in question was one he’d heard from his father, and Collin was well aware that George could have been pulling his leg, as he so often did.

Adelio laughed. “Contrary to popular belief, no. They do not roll cigars on the thighs of virgins. That story, which became a legend, was made up many years ago. In the nineteenth century, actually. It was invented to encourage men to smoke more cigars, leading them to believe that they were smoking the essence of a virgin.” Adelio shook his head, laughing at the gullibility of people. “And the crazy story worked! Our cigars are the most sought after in the world.”


And I, for one, am ready to smoke this one.” Collin held the cigar between his thumb and forefinger, eager to try the world’s most famous cigar. From everything he had heard, the Cuban cigar has no equal. He had been told it was like trying to compare California wine to French wine.

Adelio’s expression was somber, as if he had something very important to impart. He held up a hand asking for patience.


There are a few things you must know before smoking a Cuban cigar, my friend,” Adelio said. “There continue to be known principless on this earth. If these principless are abused the most severe sort of subjective controversy may be created.” He set the cigar between his lips and lit a small piece of cedar, holding the flame under the foot of the cigar without touching it. Then he gently drew the air in until the entire foot was alight and burning evenly.

Adelio slowly inhaled, then exhaled in the same manner. He held up one finger. “You should never drink beer from a coffee mug.” A second finger joined the first. “You should never rob a bank without a gun and a dependable car.” He took another draw from the cigar and closed his eyes as he breathed out. He put up a third finger. “And, my friend, it is important to always remember that a Cuban cigar is finer than your average smoke. It should be appreciated as the fine delicacy it is intended to be, for they are superior to any other cigar in this world.”

Adelio smiled, satisfied, then handed Collin the box of matches. But he wasn’t quite finished with his lesson yet.


Smoking a Cuban cigar is an experience all to itself. You must smoke the cigar slowly, gently and meditatively. In this manner you will not miss the subtle flavor.”

Collin did exactly as he’d been told and was glad of the lesson. Adelio was right. Taking the time to enjoy the cigar meant he appreciated it so much more.


I have some other things for you, Adelio,” Collin announced after a few moments of appreciative silence.


Oh? And what is that?” Adelio asked. His voice sounded slow and relaxed, as if smoking the cigar put him in a meditative state.

Collin stood and lifted a panel under one of the seats. One by one he pulled out plastic shopping bags and handed them to Adelio, describing the contents as he went.


Here we have soap,” Collin announced, then grinned at Adelio’s shocked expression. “Lots and lots of soap.”


And here we have several bags of sugar and salt. And … let’s see. Oh yes. This bag contains boxes of toothpaste and several toothbrushes.” Adelio stared at the bags, stunned into speechlessness.


Oh and in here we have tons of rice, beans and flour. I brought you different kinds of rice and beans, since I wasn’t sure what you would like. I have to admit that I rarely went to the grocery store when I was younger. I found it too boring. My mom does all the shopping now. When I went this time I couldn’t believe how many varieties of beans there are!”

Adelio looked for a moment as if he couldn’t breathe. When he spoke his voice was filled with awe. “My friend, I can never thank you enough for your generosity. Never.”

From that day forward Collin brought something new for Adelio to eat as well as a few bags of other items Collin had always taken for granted. He loved watching Adelio’s reactions.

Adelio promised to bring some Cuban beer and rum for Collin to try, as well as some black bean soup. Collin declined the soup but was more than willing to try the alcohol.

The bond between Collin and Adelio grew stronger every year and they missed their visits when hurricane season hit. Whenever bad weather struck their meetings and business adventures were put on hold. But overall, they met quite often and both were always happy to share the latest news.

One day Adelio’s boat came alongside Collin’s, but Adelio wouldn’t come aboard. Collin was suddenly wary, felt the hair rising on his arms. Adelio looked worried.


Some men have been asking a lot of questions,” Adelio said, his voice shaking.

BOOK: 90 Miles to Freedom
13.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Out of Grief by EA Kafkalas
The Heike Story by Eiji Yoshikawa
DUALITY: The World of Lies by Paul Barufaldi
Our Father by Marilyn French
The Ghost and Miss Demure by Melanie Jackson
Residence on Earth (New Directions Paperbook) by Pablo Neruda, Donald D. Walsh
Defiant in the Desert by Sharon Kendrick