Free 90 Miles to Havana by Enrique Flores-Galbis

to.”
    â€œWhy?” I ask.
    â€œBecause, if he doesn’t, some other kid might try the same thing.”
    Gordo puffs out his chest. “I’m not scared of him.”

DOLORES DE LA CARNE
    We’re trying to decide how and where we’re going to sleep in the green-tiled bathroom, when the lights flicker on and off.
    â€œThat’s the signal, ten minutes before lights out,” Alquilino says.
    â€œI’m going to sleep right here by this closet,” Gordo calls out as he unrolls his mattress. Alquilino sets his bed down next to Gordo, but if I set mine down next to his I’ll be sleeping with my head up against the toilet.
    â€œWhy don’t we sleep outside?” I ask. “At least it doesn’t smell like a bathroom out there.”
    Alquilino shakes his head. “They have rattlesnakeshere. I read that they like to crawl into your blankets to get warm.”
    I settle on a spot on the other side of the room where I can lay my head under the sink instead of the toilet.
    The too-thin mattress and the bathroom smell kept me up all night. Every time I dozed off, the green of the tiles seeped into my dreams, and I would wake up with the taste of bathroom in my mouth. I was finally feeling my way into a black-and-white dream, when someone came in and turned on the lights.
    I open my eyes to the sound of an airplane taking off. Someone is flushing the toilet and there is a hairy leg right in front of my face. The legs belong to Caballo. He’s standing over me, briskly brushing his teeth.
    â€œ
Molores mis maiting mor mou
.” He rinses and then spits. “Report to the kitchen, Dolores doesn’t like to wait.”
    Gordo gets up on one elbow, yawns, and stares at Caballo as if he has no idea where he is.
    â€œI hope you enjoyed your tile beds.” Caballo laughs as he wipes the white line of toothpaste dripping down his chin.
    â€œWe never slept better,” Gordo says and smiles. “Thanks for asking,
Romeo
.”
    Caballo takes a step toward Gordo but he reconsiders, “Keep it up, Gordo. This is nothing like it was at school. Here, I always win.”
    Before Gordo can answer Alquilino gets up. “Gordo, Julian, get dressed. Let’s go meet Dolores.” Then he steps right in front of Caballo. Alquilino, as tall as Caballo, leansin real close and looks right into his eyes. Suddenly Caballo doesn’t look as big or scary to me. “Lay off him, Caballo,” Alquilino says, really low, and then leisurely starts rolling up his bed.
    When Caballo storms out, Gordo slaps Alquilino on the back and laughs. “That was pretty good, Alquilino. You scared him. I saw his face.”
    Alquilino just nodded. He’s diplomatic like my father, but also crazy proud and protective like my mother.
    We follow the sound of clanging pots and a high warbling voice singing in English as we walk through a big room crowded with long tables. “She’ll be coming around the hmm-hmm when she comes, she’ll be hmm-hmm around the mountain when she comes.”
    â€œThis must be the kitchen,” Alquilino says as he carefully pushes the door open. Inside a big woman dressed in a faded green uniform is bending over a metal table. When she sees us, she wipes her big beefy hands on her dirty apron and stares at us. We stare back from the doorway, keeping a safe distance between us.
    â€œWell, are you comin’ or you goin’?” she says slowly in English, I guess so we can understand. “I’m Dolores, and it’s about time you alls got here.” She throws three aprons across a metal table at us.
    â€œThem’s for you,” she growls. “I ain’t got time for formal introductions, we got people to feed.” We had English lessons in Cuba, but our teacher must have taught us a different kind of English.
    When she comes closer, we back out of the doorway.
    â€œGit back in here!” Dolores growls and sticks