Boy Who Said No : An Escape to Freedom (9781608090815) (20 page)

“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 alert 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.

Pino vehemently disagreed with this decision, mostly because it would again provide me with high visibility among the top military
brass. It was clear he didn't trust me, and he didn't want me to be viewed favorably by those to whom he reported. It could complicate matters if he needed to discipline me. But to Pino's chagrin, Brown overrode his decision. The two lieutenants were again at odds.

The military exercises were designed to mimic a real enemy invasion. As usual, Fidel closed all schools and work centers for the day of the event. It was a joint exercise of all the Revolutionary Armed Forces protecting Havana.

I was well prepared. To my surprise, I felt breezily confident in my ability to complete the task. The day of the event, the crowds cheered, the bands played, the infantry stood for inspection, and the 57-millimeter cannons displayed their power.

When it came time for me to perform, I was told to destroy a truck while it was pulling a trailer. It was a difficult assignment—a moving target—but one I was up to.

I turned to my driver and smiled, hoping this would be the last time I would ever complete such a task. I did my calculations, made a sign of the cross, and blew up the target on my first attempt.

The crowd roared its approval. I waved and smiled back at them. I saw a look of pride cross the face of Lieutenant Brown and a look of frustration cross the face of Lieutenant Pino.

Three weeks later Manny covered for me on guard duty again so Sergio and I could go see Abuelo. My grandfather was no more enthusiastic about my plan than when I first proposed it, but he did have some information for me. He told me about a fisherman who lived in Guanabo, a close friend of his by the name of Ralph. Sergio took out his notepad and wrote down his name and address.

“I've already spoken to him about you,” said Abuelo. “He knows you are coming.”

Sergio and I exchanged hopeful glances before we drove off in the middle of the night to meet with my grandfather's friend. I was very hopeful that something good would come of this meeting.

Ralph lived in a weathered, wooden house not far from the beach. Peeling brown paint clung to my knuckles when I knocked on his door. It creaked on its rusty hinges when Ralph answered it, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“I'm sorry to disturb you. My name is Frank Mederos. This is Señor Hernández,
mi novia's
father. My grandfather sent me.”

“Call me Sergio,” said Señor Hernández.

“Yes, yes,” Ralph said, holding the door open for us. “I've been expecting you. Come in.”

Sergio and I went into Ralph's dimly lit living room. The curtains needed washing and the scent of stale tobacco permeated the air. He removed some newspapers from his tattered green couch to make room for us to sit. A cat was curled up on the armchair. Balls of her hair floated across the floor with the movement of air. She lifted her head curiously and then settled back down to sleep.

“Can I get you something to drink?” asked Ralph. He looked happy for the company.

“No, we can't stay long,” I said. Ralph brushed the cat off the armchair and plopped himself down. Although he was thin, the springs creaked beneath him. The chair was in obvious need of repair.

“Your grandfather and I go back a long way,” he said. “He has spoken to me about you many times.”

“He's a good man.”

“He is,” said Ralph.

Ralph moved his neck side to side as if releasing a kink. He brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. Without preamble he said, “He says you want to leave Cuba.”

“Yes. He thought you might be able to help, but I'm not sure how. Do you have a boat?”

Ralph groaned. “My boat was seized by the government,” he said with more than a hint of anger in his voice. “So I have no boat, at least not one that would do you any good.”

I heaved my disappointment. Ralph looked at me with concern. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“It's not something I want to do—it's something I must do.”

“Well, I don't want to discourage you, but many people try to leave Cuba and many people die. The coast guard patrols every half hour on the edge of Cuban waters. Your chances of survival are bleak.”

“How far out is that?” I asked, knowing this was important information.

“Twelve miles,” said Ralph. “Right at the point where you can no longer see land. After that, you're in international waters.”

“As long as you remain within Cuban waters you're safe?”

“As long as you're in Cuban waters, the coast guard leaves you alone—unless they have reason to suspect you of something. But it gets very dangerous when you cross from Cuban waters into international waters. There are a couple of miles out there where you really have to watch out.”

“What about radar?”

“The coast guard is fully equipped. They can pick up your engine on radar within a ten-mile radius.”

“I see,” I said, tucking this information safely away in my brain.

“Think this over carefully,” said Ralph. “Don't make any decisions right now. I'm willing to meet with you again if you'd like.”

“I've already made my decision,” I said. “And I'm in the army, so it's very difficult for me to get away.”

Ralph regarded me warily. “I see.”

“So if you have any more information, I'd really appreciate it if you'd give it to me now.”

Ralph shook his head and muttered something inaudible under his breath.

“Pardon me?”

Ralph looked at me, confused. “It's just that—”

“It's just what?”

Ralph thought for a moment. “I don't want your grandfather to hold me responsible if anything happens to you.”