XXIII
As the months passed, Pedrito, along with Lazaro and Roberto’s brother Pedro, had been regular visitors at Combinado del During these visits, Roberto had, over time managed to convince Pedrito not to leave Cuba without him, by promising to help him financially once they arrived in Florida. Roberto knew Maura’s family in Miami was well off and would have connections and perhaps Pedrito, whom Roberto knew to be a great fisherman, could work in the seafood business supplying fresh fish to the best restaurants in the city.
His plan when the time came to leave Cuba, was to take as many paintings as possible with him, stored safely in the ceiling of the small wheelhouse of the La Once he arrived in Florida, and was released from U.S. Immigration, thought Roberto, he could then sell them to wealthy expats living in Miami or connect with a gallery that would have many customers. The paintings, if they were the right ones and good ones, would easily sell themselves once people heard the story of their journey.
A whole year had passed, and Roberto was still waiting for word from the warden when he would be granted a hearing with the judge assigned to Combinado del Este.
Yoel, the boy, had been released several weeks earlier and there had been others whom Roberto had known from his Taekwondo training that had also been released after having a hearing with the prison judge.
There was speculation among the prisoners that the worsening economic conditions in Cuba were making it difficult for the government to afford the increasing cost of imprisoning so many of its citizens.
The quality of the food in recent months had begun to deteriorate further and although Roberto had enjoyed special meal privileges, he was losing weight and constantly battling skin infections brought on by the damp and filthy living conditions. Unless you were near death, and not always then, would you be allowed to see a doctor.
When the guards came that evening it was a surprise as they never came in the evening after the prisoners had been locked in their cells for the night. There were two of them and they had a relaxed look about them which they rarely had because the job of working in the prison, especially for the guards in building number one where the most dangerous criminals were housed, was a miserable and dangerous one.
“Ramos, get your things together,” said one of the guards as the other unlocked the door to the cell. His tone of voice was upbeat and it surprised Roberto.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked.
“The judge is going to hear your case,” said one of the guards. “Bring your things.”
“Francisco, Benito, whatever happens, know that I will never forget you. God bless you,” said Roberto, who quickly gathered his few possessions, putting them in a burlap sack given to him by one of the guards.
The guards then escorted Roberto to a small building near the entrance to the prison complex housing the courtroom where the cases were heard for all prisoners awaiting pretrial hearings except those being held for crimes against the government. These men, unless they reaffirmed their commitment to the revolution and allegiance to Fidel, were condemned to a life of unimaginable misery, suffering, and eventually death, inside Combinado del Este prison.
The courtroom, which could hardly be described as a courtroom, was small, and dimly lit, with a single long table at one end where the judge was sitting when Roberto arrived with the guards, and there were no lawyers present.
The judge was sitting on one side of the table wearing green army fatigues and the trademark Cuban military hat made famous by Fidel, and did not look up when Roberto was led into the room.
He was short, middle aged and overweight. His prosperous appearance was no doubt the result of a favorable rating from his superiors, which meant that he was tough. He did not immediately speak to Roberto and was reading from a black notebook laying on the table in front of him.
The guards led Roberto to a place directly in front of the table opposite where the judge was seated and instructed him to remain silent and wait for the judge to address him and to answer all of questions the judge asked.
When the judge had finished reading from the notebook he sat back in his chair and looked up at Roberto.
“You are, Roberto Ramos?” asked the judge.
“Yes sir, I am,” he replied.
“According to this report, Mr. Ramos you were arrested for having a lifestyle that exceeded state limits supported by black-market activities,” said the Judge. “Is that true?”
“No sir, it is not,” asserted Roberto.
“Why were you arrested then if that is not the case?” asked the judge.
“I believe because at the time I was driving a car the CDR thought I could not afford based on my state salary,” said Roberto. “But I was not the owner of the car.”
“Who was the owner?” asked the judge.
“My father is the owner. They would have realized that if they had checked the registration, but they didn’t. They kept asking me where I kept all the money. I told them, I don’t have any money. They kept saying I was lying and that’s when I was taken into custody and brought here,” said Roberto.
“So am I to understand that you are telling me you were arrested simply for driving your father’s car and that there is no evidence you are involved in actividades del mercado asked the judge.
“Yes sir, that is what happened, Your Honor,” he replied, looking directly at the judge, not wanting to break eye contact.
The judge looked down again at the notebook without saying anything. Roberto could feel his heart rate increasing. He waited for the judge to say something. Trying to stay calm he kept his eyes on the judge. With every breath he noticed more the pounding, pulsing feeling from the blood running through the veins in his temples and he tried to relax. Finally the judge closed the notebook, looked up at Roberto, and stood up from the table.
“Ramos, based on the lack of evidence presented to me as well as your record of good behavior while in prison, I see no reason for you to be detained any longer. You’re free to go,” said the judge.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” replied Roberto in disbelief.
“Where does your family live?” asked the judge.
“In Santos Your Honor,” he replied.
“Well you better get going. It’s a long walk to Santos Suarez,” the judge said. He handed Roberto an envelope and motioned toward the door, “Keep this paper on you at all times in case you are stopped by the police or anyone from the CDR. Your ID card they took from you when you were processed after your arrest, is in the envelope. The guards will take you to security at the main gate.”
“Yes sir,” said Roberto. The guards who had brought Roberto to see the judge, and had been waiting in the back of the room for the judge to make a decision, came forward and walked Roberto outside the building. They then took him to the main security check point where he was officially cleared for release and set free.
Roberto walked through security out onto the entrance road that led to the main highway and did not make eye contact with any of the guards who were stationed at the gate.
Still in disbelief at the sudden and unexpected turn of events, he wasn’t taking any chances and did not turn around as he walked. Finally after walking several hundred meters he stopped where the road made a slight bend to the right and looked back in the direction of the prison.
It was early December and the first of the winter cold fronts had arrived and settled in over the northern half of the island. The sky was cloudless, and the air was dry and pleasant and wonderfully cool. A young waxing moon rose clear above the prison.
He knew he had a long walk to his parents house but didn’t care and was happy to be anywhere outside of the prison. Roberto stood motionless on the side of the road looking in the direction of the prison and thought about Francisco and Benito and tried to imagine how they must be feeling not knowing what had happened to him and he wondered what would become of them.
As he turned around to continue walking, he noticed a pair of tocororos flying just above the treetops along the edge of the road to his right and remembered the time he had first seen them from the window when he was in the hospital at Censam Marin and then again at Anabela’s in the garden and that she told him the name of the bird and how if you saw one they would bring good luck.
He began to feel excited as he walked and realized he hadn’t felt excited about anything since being arrested and he thought about his paintings and of Maura and of the boat in Cojimar and about his plan to leave Cuba.
When he arrived in el barrio de Santos Suarez, it was dark and he was very hungry but not tired because he was looking forward to seeing his parents and for news about Maura, whom he had not seen in more than one year.
Turning the corner onto the street where his parents lived, he could see at a distance in the low light, the silhouette of his MG parked in front his parents’ house.
Stopping for a moment to look at the car before going inside, he knew then he had to sell the car as quickly as possible. It would be easy to sell he thought, remembering that many people had asked if it was for sale. Even if he did not make a profit it would easily provide enough money to buy four or five more high-quality paintings to add to the ten he already had.
He walked up the steps and stopped on the top step and stared at the front door. It was the third time in five years he had been released from prison. His parents, especially his mother, had always welcomed him home but he knew the second time had been more difficult for them than the first and this time would be no different and probably worse, he thought. He decided not to knock and opened the door and walked in.
There was a single light on in the front room, but the room was empty, and Roberto could hear voices and the faint sound of music coming from the back of the house. One of the voices he thought was Maura’s. He quietly shut the door and set the burlap sack with the handful of things from the prison by the door.
When he walked into the kitchen there was no one in the room. There was a radio playing music and everyone was on the terrace. Roberto stepped into the doorway leading to the terrace and stopped.
noches,” was all he said.
Guillermo and Rosa were sitting on one side of the table opposite Lazaro and Carlos, with Maura seated at the near end facing away from Roberto.
When Maura heard Roberto’s voice, she put her face in her hands and began to cry and did not turn around.
Roberto walked over to the table and put his hand on her shoulder.
if I tell you how sorry I am will it make you feel any better,” was all Roberto could think to say. He kept his hand on Maura’s shoulder.
“I suppose it never hurts to say it,” said Rosa.
Maura stood up and turned around to hug Roberto. She was still crying but not uncontrollably. Then she kissed him and stepped back slightly, folded her arms, and looked at him up and down.
“You look awful, and you smell terrible,” she said smiling and wiping the tears from her eyes.
“It’s temporary,” he said and hugged her again. “May I take a shower,
“Of course,” Rosa answered. “What do you want to eat?”
“Whatever you have, and a little rum if you have some, Carlitos, how is Maykel? You need to tell me all about how the fishing has been when I come back from a shower,” said Roberto, trying to sound cheerful.
“When did you find out you would be released,” asked Lazaro.
“Today. They never said anything about a hearing. They just took me to see the judge, I explained what happened with the car and that I didn’t have any money and he said I was free to go,” said Roberto.
“That car has been nothing but trouble,” said Guillermo. “You should get rid of it.”
“I plan to sell it as soon as possible,” said Roberto.
“Go and get a shower. You’re disgusting,” said Rosa sternly.
When Roberto returned to the terrace everyone’s mood was better and Maura was no longer crying and was smiling. Rosa had a steaming hot plate of platillo moros y cristiano waiting for him and a tumbler of dark rum.
Madre. I forgot what actual food looked like,” said Roberto.
“This is the last time, Roberto,” said Guillermo.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“We can’t take the stress anymore,” said Guillermo.
Roberto took a sip of rum and set the glass back on the table. “I can promise you Padre, for certain, I will never go to prison in Cuba again,” he said.
Maura and Lazaro both looked at Roberto but said nothing. They had kept the plan to leave Cuba a secret and were caught off guard by Roberto’s comment to his father.
“You need to have a normal job,” said Rosa.
“It will not be easy for me. With my prison record, who would want to hire me?” asked Roberto.
“Many people who have been in prison find jobs. If that was a reason not to hire someone, then half the people in Cuba couldn’t find work,” said Rosa.
“The economy is so bad now it will be difficult,” said Roberto. “The rice and beans are perfect, mother.”
“Where do you plan to live?” asked Rosa.
“I haven’t thought about it,” replied Roberto.
“It’s worse now than before and we don’t have the money to feed you,” Rosa said.
“I’ll catch fish,” he said.
“That’s not making a living,” said Guillermo.
“I realize that but it’s something to eat. Jesus, I was just released from prison,” said Roberto. He was becoming annoyed and changed the subject. “Maura, what would you like to do tomorrow? Maybe we could go to the beach.”
“Roberto, your parents are afraid. You need to consider the feelings of others sometimes. They simply don’t want any more trouble. You’re so stubborn,” she said.
“So what do you want to do tomorrow,” he asked, ignoring Maura’s comments.
“The weather is nice. Maybe go to the beach in Alamar. There’s never anyone there and it’s not too hot. We can go swimming,” she replied.
“Good, we can see Pedrito on the way. He was loyal and good to me when I was in prison. He didn’t have to be and I need to thank him,” said Roberto.
“Why are you such good friends with this guy anyway?” asked Rosa. “How do you know him?”
“We were in prison together. He’s just a friend, that’s all. We enjoy fishing together,” said Roberto.
“Well, if you see your friend, ask him for some fish,” said Rosa.
“I will. Carlitos, you haven’t said anything. How is Maykel?” asked Roberto.
“I’m sorry I never came to see you in prison,” was all Carlos said.
“It’s okay. It’s not a place you want to go. I’m sure Lazaro and Pedro told you all about it,” replied Roberto.
“I haven’t seen Maykel for a couple of months. He doesn’t fish in the Gulf Stream this time of year. The water is cool and the dorado don’t arrive until late next month. You should visit him. He’s always asking about you,” said Carlos.
“We can go together. Maybe next week,” said Roberto.
“I should be going, Roberto,” said Maura. worries when I am out late.”
“You went back to live with your grandmother?” he asked.
“Yes. I couldn’t afford to live on my own after you were arrested. Don’t worry, I have all of your things at grandmother’s,” she said.
“I’ll go with you,” said Roberto. thank you for la comida. I won’t be late. I need a good night’s sleep. It was always impossible to sleep in prison.”
“We’ll see you in the morning then. I’m too tired to wait up,” said Rosa.
When Roberto returned from the home of Maura’s grandmother, his brother Lazaro was waiting for him, alone on the terrace.
said Lazaro to Roberto when he walked out onto the terrace. “Here, sit down, have some rum. We need to talk.”
“What are we having?” asked Roberto.
“Santiago de Anejo Superior. I can’t afford much more than that,” said Lazaro.
“I’m not going to complain,” said Roberto.
“I have been talking to Pedrito quite a bit recently. He’s very anxious to leave as you know and things have become a little more complicated,” said Lazaro.
“Is there something wrong with the boat?” Roberto asked.
“No, no, nothing like that. The boat is ready to go. The problem is there are other people that want to go with us,” he said.
“Who, and how many? It’s too small a boat and there are already six of us and Pedrito’s two children, which makes eight,” said Roberto.
“Six others. You know the doctor, Ernesto? Well he and his wife Alena and his brother Omar and his wife Yamilet. And then there are two friends of Pedrito’s, named Armando and Frank. I don’t know them. They live in Cojimar. I think they fish,” said Lazaro, looking down at the glass on the table, knowing Roberto would not be happy with what he had told him.
“Seriously, that’s fourteen people! The boat can’t hold that many,” said Roberto. “I have to talk to Pedrito.”
“He says the boat is big enough. Besides, if we tell them they can’t go they may go to the police. They have leverage now and they’re just as desperate as we are. Pedrito says it might be good to have a doctor with us in case something happens,” said Lazaro.
“Oh yeah, sure. Maybe someone will need surgery in the middle of the ocean,” replied Roberto.
“Look Roberto, it’s not up to me and it’s not my boat. I just want the fuck out of here before everything really turns to shit! Just like you. What am I supposed to do?” asked Lazaro.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that when you have so many people everything becomes more complicated. You can’t simply load fourteen people in a boat and head north. If the Coast Guard sees more than a few people in a boat, they’ll arrest everyone,” said Roberto. “Even if we leave at night, it’s too risky. If I’m arrested one more time I’m done. They’d put me away for a long time. That would be it for Madre. It would kill her. I need to speak with Pedrito.”
“He told me he has a plan to get everyone on board safely so even if the Coast Guard sees him leaving they won’t be suspicious,” said Lazaro.
“And what is his plan?” asked Roberto.
“You know the beach at Alamar?” he asked.
“Sure, I’ve been there many times. Maura and I are going there tomorrow,” replied Roberto.
“Well his plan is to take his wife and two kids in the boat as though they were going fishing. His wife would hide in the engine compartment and if he was stopped by the Coast Guard he would tell them he was only taking his kids fishing,” explained Lazaro.
“And what about the rest of us? How the hell do we get onboard?” asked Roberto.
“Well, that’s a little more complicated,” said Lazaro.
“How complicated?” he asked impatiently.
“Well, Pedrito told me he knows of a few other boats that had the same problem. Too many people wanting to go, increasing the risk of being stopped. As he explained it, the way everyone managed to get onboard was, they waited until dark and using truck tire inner tubes, they swam offshore from Alamar Beach a mile or so out in the ocean and the boat would meet them and pick them up. Then they would head north as hard as they could go,” said Lazaro.
“Wow, Maura is not going to be happy. She’s terrified of sharks even when she’s in the boat. And at night. Jesus,” said Roberto. “What if we get out there and Pedrito can’t find us or something happens to the boat, or the Coast Guard picks him up? It would all be over.”
“Pedrito said all the other boats he knew that tried it, were successful,” said Lazaro.
“Seriously? What, did they call when they got there? He couldn’t have known if they made it,” said Roberto.
“Come on Roberto, I’m just the messenger,” said Lazaro. “Give me a break. You should take some more rum. It will calm you down.”
By the time the brothers finished the bottle of rum it was late and the roosters in the neighborhood were beginning to call to one another. Their calls carried far in the heavy damp December air.
“I never understood why people keep roosters,” said Roberto. “They’re useless.”
“That’s what grandmother used to say about grandfather, remember?” laughed Lazaro. “She would call him the rooster and he would strut around when he would put on his clean
“I remember,” said Roberto. “Lazaro, the rum is finished and I need to rest before I go to Cojimar and to La Playa It’s been a crazy day.”
“Sure, we can talk tonight after you see Pedrito. I have to be at work at the restaurant by eleven,” said Lazaro.
When Roberto awoke it was almost noon and he was late to pick up Maura. Cojimar was too far to go on foot, which left the MG as his only transportation option, provided it was in running order. After dressing quickly, he went downstairs to look for his father and to ask for the keys to the car.
Roberto found Guillermo outside sitting at the table on the terrace having coffee with Carlos, who was reading the morning paper aloud for his father to hear.
said Roberto.
“I thought you were going to Cojimar with Maura,” said Guillermo.
“I am. I over-slept. Lazaro and I were talking nearly until dawn. Padre, is the MG running?” asked Roberto hurriedly.
“She’s running. You need to check the coolant if you want to go to Cojimar. The keys are on the table by the front door. If the CDR arrests you again, tell them they can keep the car. I don’t want it. It’s cursed,” said Guillermo loudly.
“I’ll be back in time for la comida. I’ll see if Pedrito has some fresh fish,” said Roberto as he walked to the kitchen for some water to put in the radiator of the MG.
“Take some extra water. Just in case,” said Guillermo.
Maura was waiting in front of the house when Roberto arrived at her grandmother’s. Roberto could see her grandmother who was standing just inside the door in the shadow of the entrance. She never looked happy and today she looked less happy than all the other times Roberto had seen her.
said Roberto from the car.
“My favorite car! Wonderful,” said Maura walking up to the car.
“I see your grandmother looks happy as ever,” he said.
“Save the commentary. I brought some fruit and some bread and some jugo de I thought we could have a picnic on the beach,” said Maura smiling.
“I’m sorry for what happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean for the last year. I know it’s been hard for you. When we get to the U.S. life is going to be so different, Maura.”
“We’re not there yet. A lot can go wrong. Remember, many people have died trying to make it across.”
“I want to stop on the way and talk to Pedrito before we go to the beach,” said Roberto. “He doesn’t know I was released. When he first visited me in prison he kept saying how he didn’t want to wait much longer to leave, and that he might have to leave without me.”
“What did you tell him? I mean the boat is yours. You paid him. He has to wait.”
“I said it would be much better for him if he waited because I could help him get established once we were in Florida.”
“How do you plan to do that? You don’t know anyone in Miami. You don’t have family there.”
“I told him your father has connections.”
“You promised Pedrito my father would help him?”
“Look, if Pedrito had left without me you’d have been stuck here too,” said Roberto. “What was I supposed to tell him? At the time it was all I could think of. I’m telling you, he would have left without us, Maura!”
“Alright, alright. Please let’s not argue anymore today, Roberto.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Pedrito is going to be surprised, and happy.”
“When do you think he will want to leave?”
“I’m sure as soon as possible. Probably right after Christmas,” he replied as they came to a stop in the parking area near the path that led down to the harbor in Cojimar.
They came to the end of the path where it opened up from the bush and could see the door to Pedro’s shed next to the cabana was open and there was a light on inside.
“Pedrito!” exclaimed Roberto, sticking his head inside the door.
“What the hell! Roberto! When did they let you out?” he asked loudly. Pedro stepped outside the shed and the two men hugged. “Sorry, my hands are a little greasy. I was working on the motor.”
“Yesterday. It happened all of a sudden. I had a hearing, pled my case and that was it. The judge told me I was free to go. Something wrong with the motor?” asked Roberto.
“No, no she’s fine. Just changing the oil,” he said. “This is good news Roberto. We can start planning now.”
“I was already talking with Lazaro last night,” said Roberto.
“Then you know about the others. I couldn’t help it Roberto. Ernesto found out and he told his brother. You know how these things happen,” said Pedro.
“I understand. Who are the other two guys Lazaro told me about, Armando and Frank? You never mentioned them before,” said Roberto.
“Armando is a friend. He’s a fisherman and lives here in Cojimar. I don’t know Frank, but he is a fisherman and friend of Armando,” said Pedro.
“You trust them?”
“I trust them, yeah. They’re good seamen.”
“Lazaro told me your plan to get everyone in the boat.”
“It’s the only way, Roberto.”
“I understand.”
“What plan?” asked Maura.
“I’ll explain when we get to the beach,” said Roberto to Maura. “Pedrito we need to talk details, but not today. When are you thinking of leaving?” he asked.
“Well, after New Year’s, but it will depend on the weather. It can be unpredictable this time of year. You know how it is in winter. You get a strong norther and it could be a week, or maybe only a few days before the sea flattens out,” replied Pedro.
“That’s fine. I need time to sell the car and I plan on buying more paintings. Then I have to figure out how to tell Madre, three of her sons are leaving Cuba. That will be the difficult part,” said Roberto.
“Come back right after Christmas and we’ll work everything out,” said Pedro. “If you go to the beach in Alamar, there is a little cabana out on the point surrounded by some madera trees. No one ever goes there. You’ll have a sea breeze there today. Wait, take this cutlass. You can cut some coconuts.”
See you in two weeks, Pedrito. I’ll bring this back when I come,” he said, holding up the machete Pedro had given him.
“You know the way Roberto?” asked Pedro. “Take the bridge across the river. Turn left on the main road and then take your first left. That will take you around to the point.”
Pedrito,” said Roberto. “Oh, Pedrito. Do you have any fish? I promised my mother I would ask.”
“You stop on the way back and I’ll have something for you.”
After turning off the hard road on the other side of the river from Cojimar, they drove out the sand road to Alamar Beach, all the way to the point to the cabana where Pedro had directed them to go. As far as they could see along the outer beach to the east there was no one. The breeze was from the north coming in off the ocean and was strong and dry, which made it feel cool in the shade of the madera trees.
“Let’s sit in the shade,” said Maura. The midday tropical sun was directly overhead. Even though it was December the sun’s intensity could still be felt on the skin, but in the shade, it was cool enough to need the cover of a heavy towel to be comfortable.
“Don’t be upset if I fall asleep. Sitting here looking out at the ocean I’m suddenly very tired,” said Roberto.
“It’s the stress leaving your body,” she said. “I don’t mind if you fall asleep. I love being here with you and that’s enough.”
“The water here is so clean. You see where turquoise-colored shallows end and the water becomes dark blue? That’s the edge of the bar. Remember, we fished along there with Pedrito for wahoo,” said Roberto.
“Yes, and I remember how I saw the school of skipjack before either of you and how Pedrito didn’t like it much.”
“I remember. How could I forget? So, Mrs. Santiago, what do you see now?” he asked, testing Maura.
“I see beautiful blue water all the way to the horizon and beyond I see a land where there are no dream police,” she replied. “What do you see?”
“I’m not sure I see all that, but I do see a big cuda in the shallows and three war birds heading out to look for fish,” Roberto said smiling.
“I’m trying to be romantic and you want to talk fishing. We’re like oil and water sometimes, Roberto,” she said. “Take a nap. I’m going to walk up the beach.”
“It’s probably more interesting this way,” he said. “Wake me up when you get back.”
When Maura returned Roberto was no longer asleep and was sitting up on the blanket, staring intently toward the horizon to the northwest.
“What are you looking at?” she asked.
“A Coast Guard boat, on the horizon. You see it? They went several miles to the east then turned around and are heading back west toward Havana. They must be on regular patrol. I wonder when the last patrol is each day,” he said.
“I see it now. Why do you want to know?” she asked.
“Maura, I have to explain something to you. When we leave Cuba, there will be fourteen of us. If the Coast Guard were to see a boat with that many people in it, what do you think would happen?” he asked.
“We’d go to jail I suppose,” she replied. “So we leave at night.”
“There’s more to it than that. If I go to jail one more time, that’s it for me. I’ll never get out,” said Roberto still staring intently at the Coast Guard boat.
“You mentioned something about a plan to Pedrito. What is it?” she asked. “I can tell already I’m not going to like it.”
“This is how it has to go. Pedrito goes out late evening as though he is taking his kids fishing.”
“What about his wife?”
“She hides in the engine compartment. There’s a lot of room below deck, all the way to the bow. The engine doesn’t take up much space. The rest of us, once the sun is down, leave from here.”
“What do you mean, leave from here?” she asked, raising her voice.
“We’ll have inner tubes and we swim out and meet Pedrito offshore. Maybe a kilometer or more. That is why I want to know when the last patrol is each day,” he said. “So we know when it is safe to get in the water.”
“What?! Are you kidding me?! Safe to get in the water! I mean, swimming in the ocean doesn’t bother me, but at night! That far off out. What about sharks? I saw that tiger when it cut the wahoo in half,” she said loudly.
“It’s the only way, Maura,” said Roberto. “Look, you can sit in the inner tube if you have to and paddle backwards. We’ll all be together. If it makes you feel safer, I’ll hang a dead chicken off my tube. That way if they come, they’ll hit me first,” he said smiling.
“I’m not amused,” was all she said. Maura leaned back against the madera tree they were sitting under and crossed her arms, staring out at the water.
“You don’t have to go you know. I don’t like it much either but this is our only option,” he said.
“I hate that man with the heat of a thousand suns,” said Maura, still looking toward the ocean.
“Who, Pedrito?!” asked Roberto in disbelief.
“No! Jesus Roberto, I’m talking about Fidel. That bastard put me in this situation. He needs to be fed to the sharks, not me,” she said.
“I can tell you Maura, I fear Fidel much more than I fear the sharks,” he said.
“I’m going. I don’t care what happens. Life here is worse than death and we don’t need to talk about it anymore,” she said. Maura laid down on the blanket next to Roberto and closed her eyes.
“You’re an amazing woman,” he said and laid down next to her.