Blog 32-Something Finally Happened

Writing on the Dune, Early Morning
The sun had barely risen and the sky to my right was pale pink. I looked up from my notebook. On the beach there was a huge noise coming from behind me. I saw a mass of teenage boys and young men screaming, no they were ululating!, and running toward the water, just a few feet away from where Machi and Taina were pretending to swim. Last night he'd gone no place and I was relieved but now my heart dropped. It seemed every gangster in Palenque was on the beach. There must be hundreds of young men and old boys. So many. One boy screamed, “El agua esta caliente.” And another one screamed louder, “Te digo que no, está fría.” They rushed into the sea screaming and jumping and splashing. There goes my son, I thought.
Another invasion came from from the path to my right, just feet away from my dune. Las Señoras de los Frijoles. The boys who didn't sleep and the women who rose early to shell and sort their beans converged. The Ladies bunched up their dresses and tied them up at their waists. They waded to their knees and splashed their faces. Taina screamed Abuela and ran to Julia who was among a group of Señoras just reaching the beach.
Right then a big contingent of women, men, children, all dressed in orange suits to look like the Camp detainees rushed into the water carrying signs: Set them free. We won't go until they're free. The thug boys and the Señoras de los Frijoles formed into a mass behind them and they waded in the direction of the camp, chanting. Were these Los Muchachos? Anacaona's muchachos? Why were they not wearing their usual black? Most of them were scruffy and unshaved. The Señoras ululated a war cry. What else could I do but join them in the water?
So much for hiding in the Encampment. So much for saving Machi from the street.
I studied what was going on with Machi. He was standing, scanning the swarm of boys. He stepped toward them and I felt a rush of fear that I would lose him among the many bodies dressed enough alike that already, from a distance, I could barely tell them apart. I tried to gauge the degree of his interest, the degree of the attraction. But of course, these were his peers, the ones he swarmed with. Would he go live with them in the cave shelters? Would he go with them to the Territorio? I was more frightened now that I could see their faces than I'd ever been when I'd seen them in disguise, or streaming on my phone. He was focused on Taina who was staring, looking hard at the faces. And then she screamed, “Papi, Papi, Papi.”
I saw him then myself, and so had Machi, and so had Julia.
David had just reached the sand just a few feet from where we stood.
We'd found the first of the men we'd come to Karaya to find. He was tan, and strong, and his handsome, oval face radiated joy. His wildness had found its natural home.
Julia and Taina reached him at the same time. He picked up his daughter. Julia embraced them both at once. I was grinning and sobbing. After their first embrace Julia screamed and ululated and fell to her knees on the sand and kissed the ground and screamed some more. It took David and Machi together to lift her off her knees. She fell into David's arms and sobbed and sobbed. He held her. It was beautiful to watch him hold her, to see my friend at peace even if for one moment.
“Donde?” Julia said. He stroked her face. “Up El Pico, in the Territorio on the Ventura side, the one place I've ever been where I wasn't being profiled, stopped, and frisked the minute I stepped onto the street. I've been there since I left. I've come down a few times for the monthly Wade-in to the Camp. I only ran into Machi last night and he told me you were here and here I am. Next wade-in is the big one, the Convergencia on Grito Day.” Hundreds waded past us heading to the Base. David and Machi looked at each other then at us. “Let's go,” David said to his mother and daughter. Machi followed. I went along. David took all of us. He rode Taina on his shoulders. We reached the Camp by water. The guards waved. Was it a warning? They aimed their water hoses our way.
After we were done Julia wanted to feed David. We walked close together, all of us talking loudly, at once, to the Comedor where quiet señoras serias who stayed behind to cook welcomed us with today's ration of beans and rice and bits of fish. We told them of our Wade In to the Camp and soon we were all loud and euphoric.
After we had eaten Taina clung to David's leg, dragged him to the beach. Daughter and father sat on the sand by the tidal pool and played. I felt my heart burst with love for him, watching him give her his full attention. Here he was, Moon Park's most notorious and skilled car thief, being a loving father. Taina was thrilled to build iguana houses and tunnels in the sand and share with her Papi her intricate fables about iguanas whose Papis were forever being lost Hillside, then found; whose Mamis were en el cielo. She showed him the tunnels that went all the way to Hillside where the iguanas in her tale had also lost their Papi, and the tower that reached el Cielo, where they found their Mamis. When the Papi came home in the fable both Taina and David were crying. And so was I.
Machi, who had left after our almuerzo, came back with Lagarto and Robles, and then all of them, David too, were gone. Left behind by David Taina didn't want to go to La Escuelita, fought hard, pounded fiercely with her hands and feet when Julia insisted she must. Was that how it began, women's search for the man who would make up for that first absent one? And the men? What if they couldn't help themselves? They were soldiers, always called off to some skirmish on one side or the other of the constant war. David was gone again. After being tantalized with closeness and fullness Taina gave up the fight. She got listless and sunk and cranky and let herself be dragged to school. They were still gone when she came back from school, gone all day. And here I was writing by the fire Julia and I managed to build without Machi's help. Julia sat silent beside me, staring at the flames. Neither of us wanted to say it out loud. Our boys would probably be gone all night again.