Read Online Boy Who Said No : An Escape to Freedom (9781608090815) by Patti Sheehy - Free Book Online Page B

imagination.
    â€œThere’s nothing to be discussed,” said my father. “Since he doesn’t want to go to your school, I must ask that you leave my house
. Now
.”
    â€œThat may be so,” said Señor Gonzales, “but I still need to speak with Frankie.”
    The soldiers mumbled something to each other that I couldn’t understand. I peered through the kitchen door to see my father’s shoulders stiffen with determination. Knowing my future was at stake, I squirmed away from my mother’s hold and marched into the room. Mima followed, alarmed.
    My father glanced at me and said, “These men want to take you back to school, Frankie.” His gaze held mine knowingly, and I got the impression that what he was saying was more for the benefit of the soldiers than for me.
    â€œDo you want to go back?”
    I glanced warily at the soldiers, then back at my father. I knew this was no time for hesitation or cowardice. I pursed my lips, shook my head and said, “No. I hate that school and I don’t want to go back.”
    Señor Gonzales stepped forward, looking somber and all puffed up. He had a job to do and he was determined to do it.
    â€œFrank, you are making a big mistake. You are a very talented young man. You were doing very well at school. There is a future for you in the Party if you return to school. But if you don’t—” He shrugged. “Who knows?” I took this as a thinly veiled threat. I didn’t like being threatened.
    I mustered my courage and said, “I’ve been to your school. I gave it my best shot, and it’s not for me. I’m staying here with my family.”
    Señor Gonzales looked appalled. If we were alone, he would’ve handled the situation more forcefully. But with my parents present, he took a more conciliatory approach.
    â€œThe teachers hold you in high regard, Frankie. You are doing well in sports—everybody likes you. Think about your future. You will regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t go back to school.”
    I wrinkled my nose and shook my head, wondering whether I was old enough to have any rights. I sensed that something was going on that was more ominous, more threatening than just disobeying a teacher. But I couldn’t define it.
    Fear lifted the hairs on the back of my neck. I glanced at my mother and realized that some cultural factors were at play that might work in my favor. Mima looked at me and stepped forward, wiping her hands on her apron. Lips tightened and eyes blazing, she looked like a woman possessed.
    Like many Cuban women, my mother was sweet and good natured, but when it came to her children, she was a force to be reckoned with. She had her own mind and she didn’t shrink from telling anyone what was on it. I had a pretty good idea what she was going to say, but I had no idea how it would be received. Mima placed her hand on her hip and pointed a finger at the men. Beads of perspiration erupted on my forehead.
    â€œDidn’t you hear my son?” chided Mima as if she were scolding a group of small children. “He doesn’t want to go back to your school. He wants to stay right here. And what’s more,
I
want him to stay right here. Do you hear me?”
    My father turned to the soldiers. He set his jaw the way he did when a discussion was over. I started to say something, but my father raised his hand—palm out—to stop me. I knew enough not to disregard his gesture.
    I glanced at my mother and held my breath, awaiting the men’s response. They looked at once angry and confused. It was clear they wanted me back, but it was also clear that tradition dictated that they respect the wishes of parents in their own home. Parental control of their children was well honored in Cuba, and although under Fidel the concept was quickly disappearing, it still had a firm hold.
    The crowd outside began shouting and chanting, “Leave the