The Red Umbrella: Chapters 5–14

The sound of the doorbell broke up the monotony of the day.

“Well, I mentioned that I was coming over, and he said to make sure to tell you about the dance that Jóvenes is sponsoring at the end of the month. It’s a party for everyone who is volunteering to work with the brigades in the countryside. I think he wants to find an excuse to see you before he goes."

"Plus, I thought the government closed down the Yacht Club. Called it a symbol of the elite. ”

From that vantage point, I couldn’t be seen, but I could still watch and hear a little of what was happening.

I sat back and tried to absorb everything I’d witnessed.

I closed my fist over the bottle and ran down the large tree-lined promenade.

The newspapers had stories about people hoarding money and property.

I took a deep breath, got my bearings, and took off running again.

All the adrenaline that had rushed through me evaporated.

“Oh, Lucy, how I wish you’d been spared from seeing...”

He wanted a simple, peaceful protest to give voice to what so many feel is a betrayal of what the revolution was supposed to do.

Frankie trudged into the room.

"He insinuated that if I couldn’t teach my children how to be good revolutionaries, then maybe the government should take on that responsibility.”

It’s very organized and it’s for the revolution. Teaching the peasants to read with all the other brigadistas.

My parents say all students should spend some of their time doing that since they’ve had the privilege of receiving a good education in the cities.

“Ooh, my mother bought me this white dress with little black polka dots. It’s got a patent-leather belt around the waist. It makes me look like I’m at least seventeen. Very ooh-la-la sophisticated!”

I glanced down at my hands and saw the ragged edges of my cuticles.

Slow, deep breaths stifled the rising panic.

There, under a canopy of white crepe-paper ribbons, ten couples danced as the band played a quick merengue.

"So, I see you’re having a good time,” Raul, Ivette's older brother, snickered.

Slowly it doused my anger.

He straddled me to keep me from moving.

The scorn in his face when he called me a gusana. How could someone seem so perfect and then rip out your heart?

She started sweeping the foyer and porch.

Frankie’s voice filtered into the room through the open window.

He smelled like the amphitheater bathrooms after a big concert, but I couldn’t get enough of him.

“The government controls all the industries."

"They want to indoctrinate the kids right under our noses.”

Papá abruptly stood up, nearly dropping Frankie to the ground.

They’d thought I was asleep, but I could hear their muffled voices going back and forth until well past midnight.