Short STory: Life and Making Plans

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Summary: Carlota's bid to pick up her son and his family during the Mariel Boat lift, does not go quite as planned.


Life and Making Plans

Carlota looked at the controlled mayhem in the large kitchen of her bakery. On one side three workers put ingredients such as eggs milk or flour into large chrome colored bowls and mixed them with the large toddler sized kitchen aid blenders. They wore dark green uniforms. Meanwhile others in an assembly line decorated cakes and other pastries.
“It looks crooked there, Marisol.” Carlota said one of the cake decorators in Spanish as she pointed to the slip-up.
“I’m sorry Señora.” She blushed and scrapped off her mistake
Carlota continued her inspection of the kitchen. At the large stove with six grills stood two men cooking the various meats that went into some of the pastries.
“What have we here? Flan?” she walked up to one of the workers blending ingredients. He was putting eggs into the bowl.
“Yes.”
“You put in too many eggs then.”
“I’m sorry..”He said but shrugged. “Though at worse it’ll be kind of like a tocinillo.”
“But it’s supposed to be a flan.” Carlota told him. “When a customer pays for a flan he expects a flan not tocinillo. You’re not cooking at home.”
“I’ll be careful on the next batch senora.” He promised.
“See that you are.” Carlota said. She soon went out of the kitchen and into the miasma of customers getting a number at the machine or waiting in line. In front of the registers a clear display showed all the pastries available for purchase from flan to cheesecake slices, chocolate cake pieces, ham filled croquetas and meat-filled potato balls. Among the cashiers was her youngest son Tomas a USC student.
Before she could inspect further the bakery manager Pablo took her aside.
“Could I speak with you for a minute in private?” he asked. Pablo wore a white shirt clean and pressed along with a red tie and black pants.
“Of course.” She nodded.
The two went into her medium sized office with its worn desk full of folders and paper and green upholstery chairs. Tomas urged her to get one of those newly available office computers but she, an accountant by training, preferred to do her record and book keeping on paper. Pablo had a smaller office next door.
“I would like to take some time off to pick up my parents sister and her family from Cuba.” He told her in Spanish as they both sat down.
“They got permission to leave?” she asked her brown eyes showing surprise. She twirled a bit of her recently permed black hair.
“Haven’t you heard?” He leaned forward.
“Heard what?”
“The government is letting people go! If they’ve got someone to pick them up in Mariel Port.”
“Since when?” Carlota asked.
“My cousin in Miami told me yesterday.”
Carlota took a deep breath. In the Christmas of 1969 almost eleven years before she had left Cuba with her now late husband and youngest son so he would not be drafted into the Cuban military. She left behind her older son Antonio as he was of military age and could not leave. Now he had wife and three children who she helped feed and clothe. The only contact she had had over the years consisted of two phone calls and a visit the year before.
“Take as long as you need.”
“Thank you.”
Within a day and a half Tomas took Carlota to Los Angeles International Airport after going to the bank to withdraw money to rent the boat and hire a captain.
“Are you sure you don’t me to go?” Tomas asked in English as he made a right turn into the freeway.
“I’ll be fine.” She said. Tomas had finals the following week.
He squeezed the steering wheel.

Carlota ,as a result of almost drowning as a child after falling from a boat, had a phobia of being on them. She had gotten her doctor to see her on a moment’s notice and prescribe some tranquilizers, as well as seasickness medicine.
After a pause, Tomas asked “What if there’ s a catch?”
“A catch?”
“This offer of just letting people leave, sounds too go to be true.”
“I’ll deal with it if there is one.” Carlota said. To change the subject, she added “You’re dressed nice.”
“Having dinner with Marisol.”
“Oh.” She said.
“Ma!” Tomas “Come on!”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“ You’re using that tone. What do you have against her?”
“She’s not worthy of you.”
“You’re just saying that cause she’s Guatemalan and not lily white. She’s a good person, trying to better herself by working and going to school.”
Carlota did not respond.
Once in Miami ,Carlota worked on finding a boat that would go to Cuba. She tried different places and captains. Many were either already hired by other Cubans wanting to do the same thing or refused to take such a risk. Desperate she decided to lie
“You want to rent my ship to go to Cancun? “one captain hands and overalls full of grease asked her.
The hull was beife with a burgundy stripe as trim at the top of the hull. There were bars at the edges of the boat and the enclosed helm was white.
“Yes. My husband and I. We want to visit the Mayan ruins and beautiful beaches.” She said. Carlota planned to hire someone else to drive the boat.
The boat owner looked at her with his distrustful hazel eyes as he moved a stray blonde hair. In 1980 Cancun was not the popular tourist area it would become years later.
“Why isn’t your husband here to see the boat?”
“He’s a police detective and needs to wrap up a few things. He sent me to look around and find a boat.”
“I’ve been getting lots of offers from Crazy Cubans wanting to pick up their relatives back home. This wouldn’t be your case would it?”
“I’m Puerto Rican.”
“And I’m from Tim-Buck-Tu. I’m sorry. The boat is no longer available for rent. For all I know, Castro could decide to confiscate it.”
With contained anger, she left. Walking a bit she found a for rent sign on a boat painted white with medium dark blue stripes as trim. The same shade of blue also covered the enclosed helm area. On a pay phone she called the number on the sign.
“Hello?”
“Hello. I am calling about renting the boat. ”
“I am free later this afternoon? Would that be a good time to get a tour?”
“Yes that is fine.” She said.
That afternoon she was given a tour of the boat, a 1977 Endeavor. It measured thirty seven feet long.
He took her on a ride in the boat to show that it was in working order.
They haggled on the rental price and finally agreed with Carlota assenting to bring him the cash by the next morning. She would have to hire someone else to drive the boat.
“I know someone who might be available.” The owner told her, scratching his nose. “Let me give you his number.”
The driver of her boat Minh met with her the next morning. His straight black hair went to his ear. His stuffed his hands in the pocket of his jeans.
“Please to meet you Minh.” Carlota greeted him. “Thank you for agreeing to do this trip, and for giving me a discount.”
“I understand perfectly well what you are going through.” He said. “I left Viet Nam as a kid thanks to a relative as generous as you are.”
Soon they were off. At one point Carlota noticed that the boat had stopped. Wondering why ,she went to see the boat driver getting mysterious rectangular packets from the water.
“What’s all this?” she asked. “It’s not Marijuana is it?”
He didn’t look her in the eye.
“You can’t be serious! You’re not actually going into Cuba with marijuana?”
“Actually we’re dropping it off in the DR.”
“Dump all this s**t and I’ll reimburse you for it.” She needed him to get to Cuba and was stuck on the boat with the man. Leaving her no other choice but to try bribery.
“You can’t afford to reimburse me. This isn’t marijuana. It’s cocaine. Why do you think I agreed to come to Cuba at such a good rate?”
Carlota to show how serious she was picked up one of the packets and tried to dump it but Minh physically stopped her by grabbing it.
“I’ll cut you in twenty five percent of what I make from this drop off.”
“Thirty.” Carlota told him. She didn’t have time to be trapped on the boat for nothing and then go back to Miami to find another boat driver. “Make sure you hide it well.”
“The US Coast guard will be busy with all the Cubans coming in by boat and I’ve got ways to get through the authorities in the DR.”
“Next time try to keep your jobs separate.” Carlota popped a tranquilizer in her mouth and returned to living room, which had no windows.
Once there, she lay on the white cushioned, built in, half circle shaped couch, taking deep breaths, and trying to focus on the wood paneled walls, and the pillar in the middle of it all. However, the to and fro movement of the boat did not get better.
“Soon, my family will be together again.” She thought. “That’s all that matters.”
Sometime after the boat landed in Mariel Port, workers from the Cuban military escorted Her son, his family ,two of Carlota’s nieces, and their families. Carlota claimed them before hand. One of her expat cousins, who lived in Texas, had told her that he was bringing a boat over as well so the rest of the family members in Cuba, who wanted to go ,could do so on his larger boat. After a while the same workers started escorting strangers onto the boat, as if they owned it. She dare not protest. People, as they boarded scrambled to get a good spot, on the crowded boat, carrying luggage, babies, and not much else.
Before long, a kerfuffle started, when one of the strangers, tried to jump off the boat. Three or four men tried to restrain him. He was already sitting on the bars that surrounding the edge of the decks. Carlota saw all this from afar, and helplessly tried to get through the sea of people. She , on the way, stepped on a couple of toes and hands, apologizing profusely.
“I’m taking the bus!” the man in the grasp of his rescuers said. He struggled against them.
After a few minutes of this, some Cuban Military members brushed passed her, grabbed the man, and took him away.
Just then, Minh came up to her.
“I need to talk to you in private. Let’s go to the helm .”
Carlota did not have a good feeling about what he was going to say.
Once they were in the helm area, she asked. “Is there a problem?”
“This ship has too many people.” He said. “We could capsize and there are not enough life jackets. It will not be easy sailing. The Florida straits are a b***h.”
Carlota through the windows, as the sun illuminated the decks. People sat everywhere they could, guarding belongings. There were some arguments going on.
“This is not our boat.” Minh said ,as if Carlota needed reminding. “and what good is it for the passengers to leave Cuba if they end up drowning?”
“It’s too risky to kick anyone out.”
“Can’t you go to another boat and bribe whoever is in charge to take some people?”
“By the looks of it all the other boats are as full as we are. You of all people should understand the need to risk it.”
“My parents would not have taken my brothers and me on an overcrowded boat to leave Viet Nam.”
“What’s going on?” Carlota’s older son, appearing suddenly, asked in Spanish. His frayed clothes highlighted his thin frame. Dark circles surrounded each of his eyes.
“The driver won’t leave tomorrow unless I kick out a few people”
Antonio grabbed the shorter Minh by the shirt collar with both hands.
“Leave Tomorrow!” Antonio said in his limited English. He switched to Spanish“ Tell the Chinito that if he does not leave port tomorrow he will regret it.”
“ Let go!” Minh fought back, swinging at Antonio. The two men fought, until three other men separated them.

Suddenly Carlota had an idea. She switched to Spanish “Antonio ,dejálo. Go find someone else on this boat who can drive it.”
“Bueno.” Antonio let Minh go.
Minh glared at Antonio as he left.
“The Cartels aren’t this hard to deal with.” He said.
“If the ship were overloaded with cocaine, you would not be complaining.” Carlota said leaving the helm. “I’ll go help with lunch.”
After a while Antonio came to see her in the crowded galley. She along with her daughter in law, Irma cooked some undersized pots of white rice on the small three burner gas stove, which had hardwood paneling under. A small oven, filled with chicken pieces, dissipated its smell. Used to her large kitchen in Los Angeles, Carlota felt as if she were cooking inside a public phone booth. She and her daughter in law kept bumping into each other. Their plan was to feed the children first, then the adults.
“I found someone!”
“Who?”
“One of the strangers you had to let on board. He owned a boat before the revolution.”
“I’ll go to the boat driver.”
She with the man and Antonio knocked on the door of the helm. Minh opened it a smidgen.
“Yes?”
“Minh, either you leave the port or you’ll be fired from this job and we’ll have someone else drive the boat.”
“You gotta be f*****g kidding me!”
“We are not.” Carlota said.
“f**k that! I’m not letting anyone else at the helm!” He shut the door.
“If you don’t leave you could be stuck in Cuba like the rest of us.” Carlota said.
Antonio pounded on the door. He said in Spanish “Open the door Cabrón!”
“I’m not gonna move a f*****g knot until we get rid of some people. You all will be stuck in Cuba too.”
After some more back and forth, Minh conceded, if only to not be stuck in Cuba.
“If I drove this boat here to Cuba, I’m gonna f*****g drive it back.”
The next morning at eight am sharp they departed after the Cuban Coast guard sounded a horn. People all over the boat cheered and clapped. Carlota , blinking away tears of joy, hugged her son, daughter in law, and grandchildren.
“You’ll have a much better life in los Estados Unidos.” She said.
“Will you be alright?” Antonio asked.
“I’ll be fine.” She said noticing the troubled look in his brown eyes.

Hours later ,the seas got rough. The boat rocked going up and down left and right as the ocean swelled causing many of the passengers to vomit overboard. Feeling queasy and as if there were a large boulder on her chest, she took more of the tranquilizers and sea sickness medicine prescribed by her doctor.
“Why don’t you go lie down?” Irma asked. “We already served lunch and things are relatively calm among the passengers. If anything comes up I’ll wake you.”
“I’ll go into the aft cabin.” Carlota said. She had left it locked up.
Lying down on the bed, she started to experience the bliss and ignorance of sleep when she heard a noise and felt a sudden jolt that threw her to the floor.
“We’ve capsized.” She realized. Carlota found herself laying on what should be a side wall and the circle window over her head.


The End

I enjoyed reading that. Interesting setting and plot.