Chapter 4-Grito Day, Finding the Partido de la Felicidad

Photo clipped from Verdad taken from above (was the photographer on a tree or a lightpost?)of a man in a long sleeved guayabera (Rodolfo) at a podium, Karayan and Partido de la Felicidad flags behind him, hundreds of heads surrounding him...
The people spilling from subway exit waved Cayo Karaya red and black flags, wore them as capes, carried banners and held up signs.
“It's Grito Day,” Marina said. “That must be the Grito Day Parade.” He shook his head, “I think it's the Grito Day independence demonstration.” I can't believe I forgot the parade.” “Why would you remember?” Marina realized she'd never told him she was both Venturan and Islander. “I was born and raised in Ventura and my Father's Venturan. But my Mother's an Islander and after we came to the City, there were only Islanders in the churches my Father took me to. I discovered I had this other, complete identity, dormant but fully formed. I'd had it all along. Realizing that explained a lot about me.” Jimmy let her lead him toward Center City Park, following the crowd. The chanting grew louder as they turned the corner and came right up to the edge of the rally. All of City Center park was full. They entered alongside the tarima. Marina stood and watched a thin short man in a long sleeved white linen guayabera speak with a tilted head and a raspy voice.
She watched for awhile before she noticed she'd begun to listen.
“The Islanders in the City and the Islanders of the Island are one nation.”
She listened and she heard. This resonated. This was something she had always known but was waiting to hear.
She joined the applause and the cries of “One nation.”
“We are one nation and so to lead our struggle we require one party.”
She joined the shouts of, “One nation, one party.”
(Just then )Danny emerged from the crowd. He kisssed her on the cheek and hugged Jimmy. He and Jimmy huddled, laughing and high fiving. A lot more than she and Danny tongue kissing must have happened while she'd gone missing at the wedding.
She listened to the man in the linen guayabera. “Independence for the Island is the key struggle for Islanders everywhere. Here in the City, Island independence is our first democratic right.” His voice was emphatic and gentle, gravelly, high pitched.
She interrupted the two men. “Who is this man, who are these people?”
Danny laughed. “She's in love!”
“Rodolfo Marte, head of the City branch of the Partido de la Felicidad,” Danny said. “I'm in their Isla Karaya Solidarity Group.”
Jimmy nodded. “They're serious.” That was high praise from Jimmy.
Music erupted at the tarima and Marina turned her attention to the man and woman playing guitars and singing. “Mi nacion es la lucha.” The woman belted Marina's very thought, Marina's very unformed thought. In this moment she was no longer an exile. She had found a home.
Danny came back to the house with them and they stayed up till daylight, half the time talking about the Partido de la Felicidad and the rest of the time conspiring. For according to Jimmy, the logical conclusion to their beliefs was that they must act. Now. There was no time to build a party.
“What about Reparations Nation?” Danny said.
Jimmy only smiled.
By the time Jimmy passed out they had all agreed they must do an action themselves, independent of any party, and Marina had been given an assignment. She must somehow find them a gun, a 357 magnum whatever that was.
As soon as Jimmy was snoring softly stretched out on his belly on the couch, Danny reached for Marina's hand.
“Are you crazy? Weren't the two of you high fiving and...”
“He and I may be buddies and companeros, but you were mine before you were his. I knew you first.”
She laughed but pushed him away, down the long hallway to the front door.
“There's a Solidarity Group Meeting tomorrow night.” He gave her the address on a slip of paper.
“I'll be there.”
She got home from the Solidarity meeting where she'd been assigned to write for the newsletter, an article on forced mass sterilization of Cayo Karaya women, a shocking reality she'd known nothing about. She read through the folder of reports and articles Danny had given her last night and learned that as a result of City colonial health policy 33% of Islander women had their tubes tied. Marina sat at her typewriter pounding away the outrage she could barely contain. Jimmy was still not home.
After she finishsed a first draft she slipped out of her jeans and into a leopard print halter dress she'd made by sewing together two rectangles of remnant fabric she'd bought for a dollar, then stringing an old brown belt through the hem at the top. She made her way to the Waterhole. Kwasi waved her to the back where the leaders of Reparations Nation were crowded around a table all talking at once. Could you plan a revolution half drunk? Could you wait sober for a revolution so long overdue? Jimmy saw her, rose, and approached for a kiss, stumbling. “Companera.” He slurred. She wasn't liking him when he was drunk, childlike, vulnerable.
“Let's go home.”
He looked her up and down. She read him. He wasn't going to be fetched.
She shrugged and was at the door just as Danny was arriving.
“Destiny.” He took her by the hand to the bar and bought them each a beer. He announced that after seeing how lawyers had been able to expose sterilization abuse and were now pushing for legislation he'd decided to go to law school.
“It's a good thing that you're hitting the ground running doing that article on mass sterilization of Isla women. Miguel from the Solidarity group told me the Partido is going to publish it in Verdad”. “Finally I can do writing that's good for something.”
“He said Rodolfo said Verdad needs a translator and you'd be a natural. He wants you to drop by the office tomorrow afternoon.”
Jimmy walked past them on his way to the actual waterhole at the Waterhole. He high fived Danny. “Still here?”
Marina grabbed his hand. “Come home.” He shook his head. “We're not halfway through our agenda.”
Marina finished her beer and went toward the door. Danny ran after her.
“Not gonna let you walk home alone.”