Read Online Flight to Freedom by Ana Veciana-Suarez - Free Book Online Page B

am very happy we will be moving, but I think Iwill miss my uncle and aunt, and my grandfather and my grandmother. But I will especially miss watching television with Efraín. He has introduced us to shows like Gomer Pyle and Bonanza and The Andy Griffith Show. I especially like The Flying Nun because sometimes the characters say words in Spanish. In school the other students talk about these shows, and because I know what happens and who the characters are, I can participate. It makes me feel less strange.
Sunday, 3rd of December
    We are all moved in. Our new house is a pale coral color, and it has pretty rose bushes that Abuelo Tony said will produce beautiful blooms if somebody takes care of them. I share a room with my sisters and sleep on the top bunk bed, Ana Mari at the bottom. Ileana gets her own bed and she has hogged up both nighttable drawers. At least we all have new bedspreads of yellow chenille. Tía Carmen bought them for us, for our good grades. I wish I had my jewelry box from home.
    Mami spent the weekend scrubbing and scouring from top to bottom. We helped with our room andwith the bathroom. Tonight she complained about her aching back, but I think she is happy to be here. She was humming along with Efraín’s portable radio all day. We do not have a television set yet, but Mami says maybe the Three Kings will bring it for Los Reyes Magos on the sixth of January. She will have to convince Papi first because he insists we should keep our possessions to a minimum. “It will be easier to return to Cuba if we don’t have to worry about too many belongings,” he reminds us constantly.
Monday, 4th of December
    Mami has a new boss at the shoe factory, and she is a Cuban lady who came over in 1960 with her husband and two sons. Mami says the new forelady did not know any English and had never worked before she arrived in this country, but she has managed to be promoted every few years and now runs the entire factory.
    â€œGirls,” Mami told us right before we went to bed, “there is a beautiful lesson in that story, and I hope you learn it.”
Thursday, 7th of December
    Finally! We have received news from Pepito. My mother laughed hysterically when she found the letter at Tía Carmen’s after she returned home from work. Then, even before opening it, she began to cry. Abuela María and Abuelo Tony tried to console her, but she would not stop. Actually, it was not crying but a wailing that pierced my ears. Ana Mari, who doesn’t need any encouragement to break into her own tears, cried with Mami. And nobody had even read the letter! Tío Pablo was called, but he could not help. It was as if somebody had opened the door to a dam and all this grief could not stop pouring from my mother’s eyes.
    Eventually Tío Pablo was able to rescue the letter from Mami’s grasp and he opened it and began to read it aloud. This seemed to calm her down. It was short and somewhat mysterious. “My dearest family,” it began. Pepito, believe me, would never write anything so corny. He assured everyone that he remains in good health. He asked after his “little sisters who are so dear and precious.” This is Pepito writing?
    He did not mention anything about his military service, not even where he is stationed. He also didnot say anything about the increased food rationing, but he wrote about the birth of a baby to one of our cousins and about my Abuelo Pancho’s rheumatoid arthritis, for which he is being treated free of charge—Tío Pablo snorted loudly when he read this—at a state-run clinic.
    When Papi arrived from work, the letter was reread aloud. Twice, in fact, and both times everyone kept trying to dissect and analyze each line for hidden meanings that might have escaped the government censors. My mother was inconsolable during every reading. Yesterday my brother turned nineteen. Alone. Far from us. As a conscripted miliciano.
    There was