The Most Beautiful Girl in Cuba(86)

“I am surprised to find you here. Is it merely a visit, or—”

“I traveled with General Lee from Havana in March, and when he was given command of the Seventh Army Corps in April, he appointed me to his staff and commissioned me as an officer.”

“So you think the Americans are the ones who will help us bring about independence?”

“I hope so. This home rule Blanco has offered isn’t enough. As valiantly as we have fought, I believe it will take more to eject Spain from our shores. The Americans are our best chance.”

“Is it as bad in Cuba as everyone says it is?”

He nods, his jaw clenched.

What kind of home will I return to if I ever return at all?

“How long will you stay with General Lee?” I ask.

“Until we’re given orders to return to Cuba. We’re waiting to see when we’ll be sent over. When he told me you would be visiting, I was happy at the prospect of being able to see you again. I confess, I haven’t forgotten the time we spent together at my home.”

Warmth fills me at the memory of the things we said to each other, of the kindness he showed me, of the affection that developed between us in such a short time.

“I’ve thought of it often, too.” I’ve wondered what would have happened between us if I’d stayed at his house longer. “I can never thank you enough for all that you did for me, for saving me. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened on my behalf. You risked your life for me, and I never will forget it.”

“It was my honor. When I realized I would be traveling with Lee, I thought I might see you again. I brought something for you.”

He reaches into his uniform pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to me.

I recognize the handwriting immediately.

It is my sister Carmen’s.

Tears fill my eyes as I take the letter from his hands, as I look at the word “Evangelina” on the outside, as I unfold it, reading the words contained there.

I only make it to the first line, before I must stop, emotion overcoming me. I will read the rest of it in the privacy of my room, when I’m able to let my guard down and truly be myself.

“How—how did you—”

I can’t say the rest of it for the tears clogging my throat.

“After you left Cuba, I asked after your family. An acquaintance of mine knew your sister Carmen and put us in touch. I visited her before I left the country. I told her there was a chance that I might see you since I was travelling with the Lees and I asked her if she had any message she would like me to carry to you.”

“I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me. You saved my life in Recogidas, but this—to give me a part of my sister when I have missed her so dearly, when I have felt so alone. I fear I will never be able to express how much your kindness truly means to me.”

“It was my pleasure. You deserve all of it and more.” He gestures toward the letter. “I can make excuses for you if you’d like to go upstairs and read that in the privacy of your room. I imagine you are eager to hear the news from your sister.”

“I am. Thank you.” And then it occurs to me. “Wait. I have something for you, too.”

I walk up to my room and sit down on the edge of the bed. As I open the letter, I am overcome with a wave of nostalgia and homesickness. For all the time we spent together when my family was separated, I have always been closest to my sister Carmen.


Evangelina,


I cannot tell you the joy it brought us to hear that you have been liberated from that awful place, and that you are now free. When they released me from Recogidas, I felt an unmistakable sense of relief, but also so much worry for you. Not a day has gone by since we last saw each other when I have not prayed for you, thought of you, and now it seems my prayers have been answered, my brilliant, clever sister. I was filled with pride when I saw that you had escaped their clutches, that you bested the Spanish.

A gentleman named Carlos Carbonell came to visit me—indeed, I believe he is carrying this letter to you himself. He spoke of your joy at being released from prison and shared news from the American newspapers of how you have captured the hearts of everyone in the United States. I cannot say that I am surprised of your triumph and successes, only that you have done our family proud.

I hope we will be reunited again soon. Everyone is as well as can be expected, I suppose, although our father is much changed since you last saw him. The Spanish have taken their toll on him. I believe he holds on so he will be able to see you again, his beloved daughter. We hope for a speedy resolution to this war and for all of us to be together in a Cuba free from Spanish tyranny.


I love you.

Carmen

Ps. The gentleman who came to visit me seems quite fond of you and appears to be a distinguished man of integrity and good character.



Tears spill down my cheeks as I clutch the letter to my breast, feeling as though Carmen is sitting beside me, imparting sisterly wisdom and telling me all about her life. There is an ache in my chest that I feel keenly in my family’s absence. My American friends had told me that my father wasn’t doing well, but now I fear he will pass on before I am able to return to Cuba, that we may never see each other again.

After a few minutes, I rise from the bed, setting the letter on a little nightstand. I will read it again when the evening is over, before I fall asleep, and hopefully Carmen’s words will bring me peace to chase the nightmares away.