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Together Again

  -REVISED-

  by

  R.H. Proenza

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  PUBLISHED BY:

  Together Again

  Copyright © 2013 by R.H. Proenza

  Revised: 07/22/2017

  *****

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

  Your support and respect for the property of this author are appreciated.

  Many thanks to Melissa Mathews who encouraged me to publish, to Jenny Harden who encouraged me to keep writing, and to the voices in my head that help me create. I hope you enjoy the story and perhaps become one of its characters, if for only a short while.

 

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  Together Again

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  Chapter 1

  Cuba - 1945

 

  It was past the middle of January and the balmy western Caribbean breezes carried strong aromas of freshly tilled soil, ripening sugarcane, papaya fruit, and tobacco. The semi-tropical climate encouraged the robust growth of fruits and vegetables. It was three o'clock in the afternoon and the boy had just been born, emerging from his mother's womb with some difficulty.

  Dr. Menendez, the rather rotund, old, tired and over-worked country doctor looked down at him with dismay deciding on giving up on the baby. He shifted his stare over to the Negro midwife that was assisting him and gave out a noisy sigh as he wiped his hands on a towel. "Está muy azúl, he’s too blue, looking down at the fairly still infant. Not enough oxygen perhaps," he said with remorse. "No vivió el niño ... he didn't make it. Qué lastima ...what a shame."

  He turned toward the door to deliver the unfortunate news to the family that was waiting with anticipation in the next room. The midwife, still with perspiration on her forehead from the birth, flared her prominent nostrils with purpose. Now, filled with determination, she picked up the baby. Several blows later the boy took his first breath. A blue baby, yes, having avoided any brain damage one would hope, but alive. Thus began the first day of life for Ramón.

  Growing up in the mountainous area of rural northeast Cuba in the small town of Banes was filled with daily misadventures, especially living in a large house with Ramón’s mother’s siblings - eleven aunts and uncles. The large family took up the entire second floor above an old pharmacy. All the brothers and sisters had pooled their resources and lived together affordably. This provided Ramón's parents many babysitters from which to pick.

  The house had a large portico floored with large Cuban tiles that ran the width of the house and overlooked the dirt street below. Ramón often entertained himself by watching the people and horse traffic from his elevated vantage point. He soon learned he could interact with the passersby by throwing objects over the banister and waiting for boisterous, if not heated, reactions. It was not long before two of the uncles strung up chicken wire as a necessary barrier.

  His life was happy until his parents had the audacity to leave for the United States in search of work and a better life. He was only five years old at the time. He felt abandoned and insecure until his favorite Aunt Maria and favorite Uncle Jacinto, brother and sister themselves took up the slack. Ramón grew a deep attachment to them and was extremely put off when they refused to marry and officially become his new parents.

  It occurred to his pharmacist uncle who owned the drug store below how to keep Ramón out of mischief. Every morning one of the aunts would make the boy descend the massive staircase that led down into the dark and mysterious bowels at the back of the pharmacy, and stand Ramón in front of a sink. The sink was full of soap and water, and thousands upon thousands of little vials and bottles, so it seemed to the boy. He was tasked to wash every single little bottle, rinse them thoroughly and stand them upside down to dry. They HAD to be clean and free from something called germs – even before germs had been invented! The only fun part was playing with the soap bubbles that came up the more he agitated the water. The suds clinging to his eyebrows would make the adults roll their eyes. Ramón later realized the bottles were for all the medicinal herbs, powders, and liquids that stood at attention in rows on the shelves of the pharmacy. The boy grew interested in these medicines and memorized a series of them and their purposes – to the amazement of the adults. Truly, there was no blue-baby brain damage here!

  Life was good if only for a short time. He was to suffer yet another separation from those he loved when he himself was taken away to the States to live with his estranged and traitorous parents. He shed bitter tears. Had not his unmarried aunt and uncle become his sort-of new parents? And now he was being torn away from those he loved yet again!

  Indeed, his short life was full of insecurities. And now more uncertainties presented themselves as he started out to a strange new and faraway world to the north.

  NEW YORK 1950

 

  The strangeness of this new place surrounded the little boy Ramón. People were everywhere, all in a hurry, all rude, and all talking a strange gibberish language. Streets were clogged with noisy automobiles and busses that spewed choking smelly smoke. The buildings were huge brick window-filled mountains that blocked out the sun most of the day. Even after a year of being here this place was still foreign to him. One of the high points of the New York experience was when two little girls, attractive and streetwise sisters, came to visit the family and flirted with Ramón. He liked that, but what was flirting anyway?

  The public school that held the first grade appeared more like an ominous penitentiary. Trying to understand the teacher in a foreign language was a nightmare for Ray, as they started calling him. Despite the disorientation, Ray made it through by watching hand and body gestures. He picked up the new language as he went.

  But then there was SNOW! What in the world was this cold white stuff? You didn't see snow on a tropical island like Cuba. You could eat it right out of the air until it froze your face.

  It was fun yet Ray's body was NOT used to the cold climate. Winter always brought on a runny nose and eye squinting from the sunlight off the white snow.

  One day while coming home from school he was jumped on by three girls 2 or 3 years older than he. GIRLS! They pinned him down and rubbed snow in his face, laughing all the while. He managed to get away and run home, crying some along the way… his only time to be mugged, sort of, in New York City.

  Once in the school bathroom, he saw another boy in a playful act flush all the wall urinals. Ray, at six years old, thought that was a neat trick since he had never seen an upright commode on a wall. He decided to flush all of them, too. A male teacher walked in to witness him doing it and was taken to the principal's office to be reprimanded. The boy who had started it just slunk away scot free. It was terrifying. So far this new place had brought him nothing but misery. He felt like a dry leaf being blown around by the winds of circumstance. He hated this place and wished with all his might they had never brought him here.

  MIAMI 1952

 

  One of Ray's uncles had moved far south of New York to a place called Miami. Employment opportunities were plentiful there so the family followed him and headed south by train. The trip was interesting but rather monotonous. All except for the delicious little chicken salad sandwiches with the crust cut off that his mother had brought along to save money on meals.

  Miami was sunny and open and easy-paced. It was nothing like the intimidating dark buildings and cold people at that other place to the north.
School seemed a little easier for Ray as he continued to pick up the language and somehow make new friends. Elementary school was actually fun, especially after he got into the school Patrol program in fifth grade. Later he even became a Captain in the Patrol. This boosted his self-esteem that had plagued him so much during his earlier years in America.

  In Junior High, he joined the band where he was given a clarinet to play instead of the trumpet that he thought was much "neater" of an instrument. He seemed to take to it and improved with time, and somehow it helped with his natural shyness. He aspired to play as good as the famous clarinet player of the forties, Benny Goodman.

  Senior High School brought on new challenges but he stayed in Band and had a fun time with it. His grades were good and he joined several school clubs attaining leadership positions. His cousin Lillian, of whom he was fond, also attended here. He was able to see and talk to her on occasion. The uncle who had preceded them to Miami had by now, through hard work and perseverance, built his own house. He added a wonderful swimming pool in the back yard. Ray and his family would visit them often to go swimming and play in the yard.

  It was on one of those visits that Lillian brought her cousin Lori who had come from Cuba ahead of her family. At first, Ray was too busy jumping into the pool to notice the new girl. She seemed shy and blended into the background of family and noise, but before long that changed. Soon Ray started noticing Lori, and she noticed him. Their eye contact lingered a little longer each time. Little did they realize that a beautiful and tortuous love story was about to unfold.

  Chapter 2