The Most Beautiful Girl in Cuba - Chanel Cleeton Page 0,81
about change in Cuba.” Carlos motions to a velvet bag beside him. “I brought you something—a thank-you for helping us.”
“I can’t—”
“You can,” he replies, his voice gentle. “It is only right. We couldn’t have gotten her out of prison without your help. We all owe her freedom to you. You risked a great deal.”
“It’s no different than what you did.”
“I have less to lose,” Carlos replies. “You have a family?”
“I do.”
“I thought you might. I remember the scandal awhile back. Your parents said little about it, but the rumor was that you had married.”
“I did.”
“Are you happy in your marriage?”
“Very much.”
“I’m happy to hear that for you. That man the last time we met here—the one you were standing with in the hall—there was something between you. Love in your eyes and his. Was that your husband?”
“It was.”
“And he is fine with you working as a courier?”
“It’s complicated. But we’re all doing our part for Cuba now, aren’t we?” I hesitate, and then I ask the question I have wondered about since our paths crossed again. “Have you—did you tell my parents that you saw me?”
“I didn’t. Would you like me to?”
“No, I can’t imagine that they would understand. We haven’t seen each other in many years, but from what I remember, their sympathies were always with the Spanish.”
“I think their sympathies are with whomever helps them retain the life they are accustomed to. They’ll have to adjust wherever the tide turns in Cuba or they will be left behind in this new world we are creating.”
I don’t disagree with his assessment of my family. My parents have never been overly political, but then again, supporting the status quo is a choice in and of itself.
“Is that why you fight for Cuba?” I ask him. “Because you think the world is changing and you want to move with it?”
“Perhaps. Is that why you do this? The courier work? You have to know how dangerous it is; they expelled Clemencia Arango from the country for it. Other women are in Recogidas.”
“We’re all risking something in Cuba at the moment. The reconcentrados are dying in the camp. The risk is worth it, if it means ending our suffering. Some days it feels like death breathes down my neck, whether it be from the disease and hunger in the camps or the risk of the Spanish branding me a spy. If I’m going to leave this world, I’d rather do it fighting for what I believe in.”
“Your parents would help you if they knew you were among the reconcentrados. Your brother has grown into a fine man. I can’t imagine he would want to see his sister brought so low.”
“I made my choice a long time ago. There’s no place for me in the life they live. As you said, Cuba is changing, and I must change with her. I can’t pretend as they do that everything is fine. I want more for myself. For my family, for my daughter. For all of us. We deserve better than this country we have been given by the Spanish, deserve more than this life we’re forced to lead.”
“This money will help then. If you want to continue passing messages for me, I have work for you. As long as you’re sure that this is what you want, that you understand the chance you’re taking.”
“I’ve been doing this for over a year now. I understand the dangers.”
He holds the bag out to me.
I take it from him, pride be damned. We need it. I’ll open it later and count the money, but every little bit will help.
“Why Evangelina?” I ask, the question sticking with me since the day they asked me to ferry a message to her. “Truly?”
“I told you before. I’d hoped it would get the Americans involved.”
“It’s frustrating though, because besides Weyler’s recall, it feels like it achieved so little.”
While I can’t deny a personal sense of satisfaction that the architect of the reconcentration camps that have brought us so much misfortune is gone, this war has grown so much bigger than one man’s cruelty.
“We saved an innocent woman’s life,” Carlos replies.
“We did. And I am grateful for that. I just wish we could do more, when there are so many innocents—children, no less—dying in the camps. No one is coming to save them.”
No one is coming to save us.
“I can’t argue with you. We must seem very mercenary in our interests to you. We wage a war with politics, and ideology, and strategy