Mission Libertad Read Online Free Page B

Ma’am, don’t worry,” the officer told Elena in Spanish.
    He then approached Miguel and asked him many questions about Cuba and about their health prior to the trip. He told the family they were about thirty miles south of Key West, Florida.
    Once they reached land, an ambulance transported them to the Coast Guard station in Key West. With Luisito on a stretcher, they entered a white building, going down a long hallway and into a waiting room. Luisito observed many men and women in uniform walking up and down the hallway and into small offices. It made him nervous. He wanted to get off the stretcher.
    â€œI am feeling better already,” he said, but the officer insisted that he not walk. They found a wheelchair for Luisito and his bottle of IV fluid. He was then rolled into a small room.
    Immediately, a doctor holding some files walked in. The doctor was tall and in his mid-forties. Luisito was afraid. He didn’t want to be examined by a strange foreign doctor. His father had always taken care of him in Cuba. What if they gave him shots and he couldn’t even ask questions because his English was not very good?
    â€œÂ¿
Cuantos
años tienes
, Luisito?” Dr. Gonzalez asked.
    â€œI am fourteen years old,” he answered. “And you speak Spanish?”
    Luisito felt suddenly at ease.
    â€œ
Si
, and I am Cuban as well,” the doctor said. “Now with this IV all the fluids you lost will be replenished.”
    â€œYou are Cuban?” Luisito asked.
    Dr. Gonzalez told Luisito how he had left Cuba right before the revolution. His family had arrived in San Antonio, Texas, to visit an uncle who played baseball in this country. They had heard of the unrest, and his father had decided to stay a little longer. They never returned to Cuba.
    â€œOh, my,” Luisito marveled at the thought that this doctor was Cuban and he spoke English. Luisito had heard stories from the teachers at his school that Cubans outside the island were not much better off in the United States, but Luisito saw that Dr. Gonzalez was working in this great big facility and that he had really nice shoes.
    â€œAre they good to you here?” Luisito said, looking around the room.
    â€œVery good, very good indeed!” The doctor smiled. “And we are going to treat you very well, too.”
    After Dr. Gonzalez checked Luisito, he was wheeled to another room where technicians took X-rays of his lungs and drew his blood.
    â€œDon’t worry, Luisito,” the doctor said. “This is normal procedure.”
    His parents soon joined him. Luisito saw the bandages on their arms where their blood had been drawn, too. He watched from his room as an officer walked down thehall eating a chocolate candy bar. He stared as the officer bit into the chewy, mouth-watering sweet. Luisito knew what chocolate tasted like. He remembered the time he went to Coppelia, the ice cream parlor in Havana, on his last birthday. He had waited in line forever, but the treat was delicious!
    Luisito could not believe his eyes. Abuela was right! Her stories about all the wonderful things in the United States were real! If he had gotten hold of a candy bar in Cuba, he would have taken tiny bites of it for days. At that moment, a nurse handed Luisito a bowl of soup. The warm soup coated his empty stomach and he began to feel sleepy. He felt safe at last.

6 SEIS
    The next day, the Ramirez family were taken by bus to a refugee processing place in South Florida. The bus ride was long and the apprehension made it worse. Finally, they arrived. As they got off the bus they saw that the building was fenced in with barbed wire and there was a security guard at the entrance. It looked like a jail. Luisito stared at his parents, then looked back at the building. It was scary.
    â€œAre we being taken to jail, Papi?” Luisito finally blurted.
    â€œNo, son,” Miguel said. Then he quietly asked the officers a few