Cuba-Lights Out: A Cuban Memoir of Betrayal and Survival: Isabel

TOYS, TREATS, NICE DRESSES, GONE

Across from la carniceria on calle Fomento, lived Isabel, one of my school mates. Her father was a chemist and he had an office in the center of the city. I think he read lab work for physicians. He had three beautiful daughters, one of them Isabel. One of the last birthday parties I went to was at her house. I don’t remember if the party was for her or one of her sisters. Fun birthday parties where the guest would bring a gift and the host would give out treats to all the kids were becoming a thing of the past. As time went by, toys, treats, nice dresses became a thing of the past. I remember getting a jumping rope as a treat. I also remember leaving it behind when I left and running back to get it.

I remember being in school one day and there was a horrific thunder lighting storm. Isabel and I were sitting in the same table. We were so scared that in a childish, innocent way we started covering all the metal on her black school pack with newspaper so lighting would not strike us. That same day Isabel read her essay to the class. It was about how exciting it would be to be an astronaut. She got my attention and the attention of the over night teachers. I knew Isabel was smart. After all these years I still remember her sincere, beautiful smile. I still remember that birthday party. I still remember how nice she was to me.

Isabel and her family left the country a couple of years before we left. Not long after they left we heard her father had died in Miami. I remember thinking oh my God, that mother is alone in a new country with her three daughters.