Flight to Freedom by Ana Veciana-Suarez Page A

think that made him feel better.
Tuesday, 31st of October
    This is a day for the children to wear costumes and go house to house asking for candy. I dressed up as a Gypsy with Abuela María’s clothes and a dozen plastic bracelets Tía Carmen bought at a small shop next to the Laundromat where she works. Mami drew a beauty mark on the left side of my mouth and colored blue circles around my eyes. Ana Mari went as a cat, with painted-on whiskers and nose. Her tail was a long black balloon. Abuelo Tony took photographs with his new camera. We collected so much candy that we cannot possibly eat it all without bursting. Efraín’s boss sent us new toothbrushes. He told Efraín we would need them!
    Just as we had planned at school, Jane and her mother stopped by during trick-or-treating, and Mami and Papi finally met my friend. Our mothers couldn’t talk much to each other, but Mami invited Mrs. Henderson in. She made Cuban coffee, which Mrs. Henderson had never tasted. I’m not sure she liked it, but she was gracious enough to drink it. “This is very, very strong,” she said, and smiled. Later Mami said that my friend—she called her la americana —and her mother seemed decent folk. Mrs. Henderson told her they attend Saint Michael’s Church, so I think that made a good impression on Mami. Papi did not express an opinion either way, but at least he was polite and friendly and did not object to anything.
Friday, 3rd of November
    I realized something today. I have not thought of my friends in Cuba in several days. I feel bad about that. Would a good friend forget so easily? I am curious about what happened with Ofelia and the Communist Youth. Is she enjoying it or are her parents forcing her to participate? Must she march in many rallies? Does she play with any of our other friends?
    Papi always makes it a point to tell us a story about Cuba at dinner. Sometimes it’s an event from history or a description of a historic site, but other times it is a story about the neighborhood or one of the businesses that we used to frequent. Tonight he told us about the José Martí House, in the southern section of Old Havana, and described the photographs and documents and furniture exhibited there. He could even remember the colors of the house—blue and yellow! He says we should never forget where we come from, so that when we return, it will be like slipping into old slippers found in the back of our closet. Memory, though, is like a piece of color cotton. Over time it fades.
    I eat lunch with Jane every day. I have started packing my own food because I cannot get used to what is served in the cafeteria. Jane loves the croquettes Mami makes, but she does not care for the El Refugio meat. She says it tastes just like Spam. I like it very much. Now that my English is better, we also talk on the phone every afternoon. If Efraín is not around, she helps me with English and social studies homework. I help her in mathematics.
    I have come to the conclusion that numbers arethe universal language. They count for the same amount no matter what country you are in. Yet you should see how los americanos do their division. They figure it out backward! They also do their subtraction very strangely. For example, they borrow by taking away from the top number. I learned by adding to the bottom number.

    Either way, you arrive at the same answer, but if I try to do my calculations the English way, I feel like I’m turning my brain inside out. Mrs. Boatwright told me not to worry. She said several of her students do their arithmetic the way I do.
Tuesday, 7th of November
    Jane gave me several books in a series about a girl detective named Nancy Drew. She read them three years ago, when she was in the fifth grade. These are mucheasier to read than the Doc Savage ones. Still, I read slowly to make sure I can understand completely what I’m reading. Sometimes I think Ana Mari will zoom ahead of