Authors: Kathleen McCabe Lamarche
"Hello,
Querida
,” Selena said, smiling as Cassie walked up the steps to embrace her.
"Oh, Selena,” Cassie murmured, melting into the woman's embrace like a child awakening into her mother's arms from a nightmare.
"Yes, yes,
yo estoy aquí
. I am here,” she whispered as she held Cassie close. “My poor little Cassie. So much, so much you have endured. Come. Let's go inside. I'll fix you some of my famous Cuban coffee, and we will talk.” She wrapped her arm around Cassie's waist and guided her inside.
Their footsteps sounded hollow against the hardwood floor as Selena led Cassie down the long hallway that separated the two halves of the farmhouse. On the right side were three bedrooms. On the left was a large living room, followed by the dining room, and then an enormous kitchen.
"Here,
Querida
. Put these on,” Selena urged, handing Cassie a pair of soft cotton gloves just like the ones she wore. “We must be very careful. Even here."
Cassie obeyed without a word, then sat down at the round wooden table by the windows. Selena went across to pour coffee from the old fashioned pot on the stove. She had never been able to adapt to the modern electric coffee makers, which just didn't seem to make the coffee strong enough to qualify as Cuban.
Copies of several morning newspapers lay scattered on the table, and Selena watched from the corner of her eye as Cassie leafed through them. “Not a very good likeness, I'd say,” she commented when Cassie picked up the Tallahassee paper.
"Good enough to cause some trouble,” she replied, looking up at her then back down at the front page.
Selena put the cups on the table and sat down. “You are among friends, Cassie,” she said, reaching over and patting her hand. “Friends who will protect you."
"It's hard to know who my friends are anymore,” came the almost whispered reply.
"
Querida
, you must trust me. And Joshua. He risked very much coming to get you this morning. Your father trusted him implicitly.” She paused before continuing. “And you know that you are very special to me."
Cassie leaned back, took a sip of coffee, and looked at her over the rim of the cup. “I know,” she finally answered, setting the cup back onto the table. “It's just that ... oh, I don't know. It just seems that everyone I come in contact with ends up dead or hurt in some way. And I don't seem able to do anything about it. Daddy's note said to trust no one. Except you, of course."
"What has happened is not your fault. But you are right. It seems like evil is everywhere, which is why I am so thankful that you have made it to us safely. Believe me when I say that you're safer here than you have been anywhere for a long time. Joshua has lived in this area for many years with his wife. He is part of the community, and people don't notice him any more than they do a single flower in flowered wallpaper."
"Tell me about him."
"Why not let me tell you?” Joshua's deep voice echoed against the wooden walls as he entered the room, and Cassie blushed like she'd been caught gossiping.
"Straight from the horse's mouth,” Selena laughed.
Joshua took a cup from the cabinet, filled it with coffee, and ambled across to sit opposite the two women.
Cassie, said nothing, seemingly fascinated by the rim of the coffee cup she traced with the gloved tip of her right index finger.
Joshua leaned back, holding his coffee in his left hand, his trunk-like legs sprawled out in front of him. “Not much mystery about me, little lady. At least, not in
this
house. Now, out
there
...” He pointed over his shoulder with his right thumb, “well, that's another story. But, like Selena here knows, and yer Daddy did, too, I'm just a simple country boy. I was born about forty miles up yonder.” This time he pointed his index finger toward some invisible place to the north. “M’ folks was sharecroppers and po’ as can be, but, someway, they managed to feed themselves and seven hungry young'uns.” He chuckled and patted his stomach, which protruded over his belt, hiding any lap he might have. “As you can see, I ate pretty good."
Selena was pleased to see Cassie smile a little. “Joshua lives here with his wife, Aggie. She's bedridden with a bad back,” she said. “You'll meet her later. She told us to apologize for not being able to greet you personally."
Cassie just nodded.
"Boy, howdy, woman, you sure do make some kinda
strong
coffee,” Joshua said, taking a long sip and putting his cup down. “No wonder you have such brown eyes!"
Selena smiled. It was an old joke between them.
"Anyhoo,” Joshua began again, “Aggie and me settled here after I come back from Desert Storm.” He paused and rubbed a place just above his left ear, then shook his head. “Sorry. Got some shell fragments in m’ brain durin’ the war, an’ ever'time I think about it, m’ head starts to hurtin'. Anyhoo, I tried farmin', but warn't no good at it. So, what with me always havin’ been pretty good with m’ hands—"
"And very gifted with electronics,” Selena interrupted. “He got more than just some shrapnel from being in the Army. They taught him all about computers, too."
Joshua went on without missing a beat. “I ended up gittin’ a job as a handyman over at Firethorne. You ‘member me sendin’ you the picture of yer daddy standin’ out front? Well, after I worked there awhile, I ended up gittin’ kinda, well, skittery, I reckon you could say. All them foreigners and high-falutin’ folks comin’ and goin', holdin’ secret meetin's an’ such sorta raised the hair on my neck, if ya know what I mean. And all them security guards. And surveillance cameras watchin’ folks all the time."
"What did you do about it?” Cassie asked, breaking her long silence.
"What did I do? Well, nothin’ at first. But, one day I heard the Vice President tellin’ Mr. Otis how it wouldn't be long ‘fore the U.S. military would be about as fearsome as a toothless ol’ tiger and, what with me bein’ a soldier once m'self, that really made me curious. So I started studyin’ on it ‘til I figured out how the system worked. You know, which of the guards was doin’ their jobs and which were just punchin’ the time clock. An’ I figured out how often the surveillance disks were checked and changed, who did the checkin’ and changin', and where they stored the old ones. An', well, ya see, I was sort of an all-purpose handyman, so I could pretty much come and go as I pleased without anybody payin’ any attention.” He paused to take a sip of coffee. “Ain't it funny how much folks don't see when they're lookin’ down their noses, if ya git m’ meanin'?"
Cassie said nothing.
"Anyhoo, to take the long outta the short of it, I snatched a couple of those DVD's, brought ‘em home, an’ Aggie an’ me watched ‘em. What we saw jus’ ‘bout took our breath away. All them powerful people, even the President of the
United States,
plottin’ with a bunch o’ foreigners to sell America down the river. I cain't begin t’ tell ya how scary Aggie an’ I felt hearin’ them laughin’ about how easy it is to fool people. An’ it ain't just us, neither. You're lookin’ at Europe, Asia, Russia, Africa-no country was bein’ left out o’ their plans. An’ once I knew what was on them disks, I understood a whole heap more about what I'd been overhearin'."
"You mean they talked right in front of you?” Cassie looked incredulous.
"Sure. Like I said. Nobody never paid me no mind. I mighta been a footstool fer all they noticed me. I ‘member one time when I was workin’ in the tack room. The Vice President walked by, looked right at me, and kept on talkin’ to that snooty lookin’ Prime Minister of England about how once the Internet was in every home and every classroom, there'd be no limit to what they could find out ‘bout people."
Cassie frowned and shook her head. “Yeah. And our taxes pay for their spying on us ... ‘
For the sake of the children,’”
she mimicked, then asked, “How'd my father get involved?"
Selena had to suppress a smile at the way the young woman was beginning to imitate Joshua's speech pattern.
"Well, I'd read a lot o’ his stuff. I never finished high school-didn't see much point in learnin’ ‘bout how great the Chinese are an’ how selfish Americans are-but I read a lot. I take all the big newspapers-
New York Times, Atlanta Journal-Constitution, Miami Herald,
and the like-an’ I'd read yer daddy's book-the one that won him the Pulitzer Prize? So, when Hawks Risin, the host of a local talk radio show, had
the
Madison Hart as a guest one afternoon a few weeks after I saw those disks, I called up and next thing, I'm talkin’ to him on the radio! ‘Course, I couldn't say too much ‘bout what I'd found out, but I did mention that I knew he liked to fish, and while he was in the area-he was here to interview our new governor-maybe he'd like me to take him out for some lunker bass. So, a couple of days later, ol’ Hawks calls me to arrange a fishin’ trip fer yer father.” He paused, a pensive look passing across his face. “I reckon you can guess the rest."
"Madison had been suspicious for some time,” Selena interjected. “Then when Hong Kong was transferred into China's hands, he became convinced that Penseur was still active. He tried to track down the members of the group, but after he was expelled from Hong Kong, many of his earlier resources-and contacts-dried up.” She paused, thinking back. “So when Joshua contacted him and showed him the disks, then later, the journal, he finally had the hard proof he needed. Unfortunately, with so little time left before the elections, your father was forced to be less cautious, and, apparently, word of his efforts reached the wrong ears."
Cassie looked out the window and was silent. Finally, she looked straight into Joshua's pale blue eyes. “What is your real name? You call yourself Joshua, the policeman called you Junior."
Selena answered for him. “Junior is his nickname around town. There's no need for you to know his given name. ‘Joshua’ is his code name, because, in his own way, he broke through the walls at Firethorne ... like Joshua at Jericho in the Bible? We all have code names-for our own protection. Your father was known as Moses—"
"Because he was leading you to the Promised Land, I suppose,” Cassie interrupted with a hint of sarcasm. “What about you?"
Selena hesitated a moment, looking at Joshua, who nodded ever so slightly. “St. Joan.” She paused again, a little irritated by the disagreeable tone that had crept into Cassie's voice. “And no, not because he was leading us to the Promised Land, but because he was going to lead the way out of bondage."
Joshua sat up a little straighter and leaned forward in his chair, his thick arms resting on the table. “We've got an alias for you, too, little lady."
"And what, pray tell, would that be?"
"Godiva."
Cassie grimaced at him. “You've gotta be kidding. What am I supposed to do? Ride naked through the streets of D.C.?"
"No,” Selena answered, trying to contain her growing exasperation at Cassie's attitude. “It is because if-and I do mean
if-
all goes well, it is you who must bear the naked truth to the world. And it won't be easy. They will scoff and ridicule. The media will attack you. The ‘sheeple’ will fear you. And you will find few allies. We can do nothing more than organize those people who believe that freedom is the most basic human right and are willing to stand up and be counted."
Cassie gazed silently through the window toward the field of dead cornstalks that stretched nearly two hundred yards from the house to the edge of a thick forest, and Selena studied her, trying to understand the change, the hardening, of her demeanor.
"Aliases have been part of your life for a long time, haven't they?” Cassie said, turning from the window. “Selena, I need to talk to you. Privately."
Joshua raised his eyebrows at Selena and stood. “That's okay. It's time for Aggie's medicine, anyway,” he said, ambling toward the hallway. “Holler if ya need me."
Cassie said nothing until he was gone. When she did speak, her voice was low. “The investigator who's been working on Daddy's case told me some things I need to ask you about."
Selena listened in silence while Cassie related what she'd learned from Max. She had suspected that any investigation regarding Madison Hart would lead to her and, eventually, to her association with the Bay of Pigs and the sit-in at Columbia. The fact that it came from the local police rather than the Federal Government was, however, a little unnerving.
"Yes,
Querida
. That is all true,” she replied, when Cassie had finished. “I was associated with both of those incidents, but it was not the way it looks. I was not involved in alerting the Cuban government about the planned invasion. You must remember, I was little more than a child myself at the time. The true villain was the man I overheard talking on the telephone. He wasn't discussing the invasion with a member of the resistance, he was talking to Castro's people in Havana. And when he discovered that I had overheard him, he told people that it was
me
who had alerted Castro. He was a powerful man, and the press believed him-or, at least, seemed to.
"My parents, fearing for my life, arranged to have me go back to Cuba for a few months ‘to visit my relatives.’ Castro, wanting to make the newspapers believe that I really was responsible, welcomed me back publicly. Many of the Cuban people in Miami knew better, though, and that is why the man was assassinated."
Cassie turned to the window, so Selena could see only her back. “But what about Columbia, Selena? You know, one incident is one thing, two documented incidents is another."
Selena paused, aware that her words were falling on unwilling ears. “Cassie, Columbia was different. I was a part of that movement. I was not a student there, but I was young and abhorred the killing. Not so much the killing in Vietnam, because that was war. But the killing in the streets of the United States-a country my family and I had adopted and loved-was something I could not accept. And I, like so many others in those days, felt that if the authorities would just
listen
, it would all come to an end. But, I didn't organize the sit-in. I only helped the students learn the layout of the building and the schedule of the university president. I left, because I did not want to be there when it happened."