In The Time Of The Butterflies Part 23

The officials call it the Crucifix Plot. Minerva and El Rayo cooked up this idea that everyone without exception was to wear a crucifix as a symbol of our solidarity. Patria sent us a dozen little wooden ones Tio Pepe made for those who didn't already have one. Soon, even the meanest prost.i.tutes were dangling crosses above their bosoms. The naked men all wore them, too.

Whenever someone was taken for a "visit" to La 40 or got desperate and began shouting or crying, we'd all start singing "O Lord, My St.u.r.dy Palm When Cyclone Winds Are Blowing."

We kept this up for a week. Then the chief warden, Little Razor, went from cell to cell, announcing the new regulations, no more hymn singing, no more crucifixes. Especially after this second pastoral Santiclo told us about, Trujillo was sure the priests were out to get him. Our crucifix wearing and praying was a plot.

A sorry-looking Santiclo and a not so sorry-looking Tiny and b.l.o.o.d.y Juan came in with four other guards to confiscate our crucifixes. When I handed Santiclo my little gold one from my First Communion I'd always worn, he gave me a quick wink and slipped it in his pocket. He was going to save mine for me. Gold crucifixes were bound to get "lost" in Little Razor's safekeeping.

Everyone complied except for Minerva and Sina. They managed to get Sina's off her because all she did was stand real straight with her chin up. But when they grabbed Minerva, she started kicking and swinging her arms. Santiclo's cap flew across the room and Tiny was smacked in the face. b.l.o.o.d.y Juan got a b.l.o.o.d.y nose when he tried to intervene.

Where does that sister of mine get her crazy courage?

As she was being marched down the hall, a voice from one of the cells they pa.s.sed called out, Mariposa does not belong to herself alone. She belongs to Quisqueya! She belongs to Quisqueya! Then everyone was beating on the bars, calling out, i Then everyone was beating on the bars, calling out, iViva la Mariposa! Tears came to my eyes. Something big and powerful spread its wings inside me. Mariposa! Tears came to my eyes. Something big and powerful spread its wings inside me.

Courage, I told myself. And this time, I felt it.

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Thursday, April 7 (77 days) Today, at long last, I got to see Mama and Patria, and Pedrito-at a distance. Jaimito and Dede didn't come up because we're only allowed one visitor. But Santiclo let Patria sit at my table after prisoner # 49 was taken back. That's what Pedrito's called. And something I didn't know till today, I'm # 307.

Mama was so upset about Minerva being in solitary, I decided not to bring up the way I've been feeling and worry her even more. Besides, I didn't want to take up time I could be hearing about my precious. She's got two new teeth, and has learned to say, Free Mama, Free Papa, Free Mama, Free Papa, every time she pa.s.ses Trujillo's picture in the entryway. every time she pa.s.ses Trujillo's picture in the entryway.

Then Patria gave me the best news so far-Nelson is free! He was offered and accepted a pardon. Ay, Ay, how it made me wish all over again we hadn't turned ours down. how it made me wish all over again we hadn't turned ours down.

As for Leandro. He and some of the others are still being held in La 40. I'm so relieved just to know he's alive. Patria heard from Pena up in Salcedo about Leandro being pressured to do some job for Trujillo. They sure picked the wrong guy. My gentle Palomino has the iron will of a stallion.

Mama said she's going to bring Jacqueline next week. Not inside for a visit, of course. It's not allowed. But Jaimito can park on the road, and I can take a peek out my window- How can Mama tell our window looks out on the road? I asked her.

Mama laughed. There's a certain black flag flown from a certain window.

How ingenious of Mama! I always wondered why she sent me my good towel.

Friday, April 8 (78 days) Magdalena and I had a long talk about the real connection between people. Is it our religion, the color of our skin, the money in our pockets?

We were discussing away, and all of a sudden, the girls started congregating, one by one, including the two new ones who have replaced Miriam and Dulce, everybody contributing their ideas. And it wasn't just the usual, Sina and Asela and Violeta and Delia, the educated women, talking. Even Balbina knew something was up and came and sat right in front of me so she could watch my mouth. I spoke real slow for her to understand that we were talking about love, love among us women.

There is something deeper. Sometimes I really feel it in here, especially late at night, a current going among us, like an invisible needle st.i.tching us together into the glorious, free nation we are becoming.

Sat.u.r.day, April 9 (79 days) I am very low. The rain doesn't help. The days drag on.

This morning, I woke up with the thought, Jacqui has to get some new shoes! And that's been going around and around in my head all day. The old ones are probably pinching her toes and she'll learn to walk pigeon-toed, and then we'll have to get her some corrective braces, on and on and on.

You get a thought in your head in this crazy place and it looms so big. But let it be her shoes I worry about instead of the other thing tugging at my mind now all the time.

Sunday, April 10 (80 days) I've got a big worry, and Minerva isn't here for me to talk to.

I go back and calculate. Leandro and I were trying like crazy in December and January. I wanted another one soon, since I've enjoyed having my Jacqui so much. Also, I admit, I wanted an excuse to stay home. Like Dede, I just didn't have the nerves for revolution, but unlike her, I didn't have the excuse of a bossy husband. Not that my Leandro wouldn't have preferred for me to be just his wife and his little girl's mother. More than once he said one revolutionary in the family was enough.

I missed January, then February, and now most definitely March. I know almost everyone here has stopped menstruating. Delia says stress can do this to a woman; she's seen it before in her practice. Still, this queasiness is all too familiar.

If I am and the SIM find out, they'll make me carry it to full term, then give it to some childless general's wife like the story Magdalena told me. That would kill me.

So, if there really is no chance I'll be out soon, then I want to release this poor creature from the life it might be born to.

The girls all know home remedies, since most of them have had to get rid of unwanted side effects of their profession. And Delia is a woman doctor, so she can help, too.

I'm giving it till Minerva gets back to decide.

Not sure what day it is Still very weak, but the bleeding has stopped.

I can't bear to tell the story yet.

Just this-I've either bled a baby or had a period. And no one had to do a thing about it after the SIM got to me.

Another day Magdalena has been nursing me. She feeds me broth with crunched-up saltines Santiclo brings me. She says he's smuggled in a little gift every day. Today, it was this blue ribbon she used to tie my braid and a little packet of honeyb.a.l.l.s.

Balbina has also been so sweet. She rubs my feet, and the way she kneads the soles and pats the heels, it's like she's talking to me with her touching. Saying, Get well, get well, get well. Get well, get well, get well.

And I wiggle my toes back and smile wanly at her, I will, I will, I hope I will. I will, I will, I hope I will.

Friday ( (I think) You think you're going to crack any day, but the strange thing is that every day you surprise yourself by pulling it off, and suddenly you start feeling stronger, like maybe you are going to make it through this h.e.l.l with some dignity, some courage, and most important-never forget this, Mate-with some love still in your heart for the men who have done this to you.

Sat.u.r.day, April 16 I've got to get a note written to Mama. She must have been worried sick when I didn't show up Thursday. What a pity I missed seeing my little girl!

But that loss seems small now compared to what has happened.

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Easter Sunday Minerva came back this afternoon. They released her five days early on account of Easter. How Christian of them.

We had a little welcome party for her with some of the saltines Santiclo had brought me and a hunk of white cheese Delia managed to get by throwing lots of water on the turtle. Miguelito, of course, showed up for the crumbs.

I try to be lighthearted, but it takes such effort. It's as if I am so deep inside myself, I can't come to the surface to be with anyone. The easiest to be with is Magdalena. She holds my head in her lap and strokes my forehead just like Mama.

It's only her I've told what happened.

Wednesday, April 20 (90 20 (90 days) days) Minerva keeps asking me. I tell her I can't talk about it yet. I know I've told Magdalena, but somehow telling Minerva is different. She'll make some protest out of it. And I don't want people to know.

Minerva says, Write it down, that'll help, Mate.

I'll try, I tell her. Give me a few more days.

Tuesday, April 26 (96 days) Minerva has excused me from the Little School today so I can write this.

Here is my story of what happened in La 40 on Monday, April 11th.

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Sat.u.r.day, April 30 (100 days) After you lose your fear, the hardest thing here is the lack of beauty. There's no music to listen to, no good smells, ever, nothing pretty to look at. Even faces that would normally be pretty like Kiki's or beautiful like Minerva's have lost their glow. You don't even want to look at yourself, afraid what you'll see. The little pocket mirror Dede sent is kept in our hiding place for anyone who wants a look. A couple of times, I've dug it up, not on account of vanity, but to make sure I am still here, I haven't disappeared.

Wednesday, May 25 (125 25 (125 days-1,826 days to go-Oh G.o.d!) days-1,826 days to go-Oh G.o.d!) I have not been able to write for a while. My heart just hasn't been in it.

Monday, Minerva and I got arraigned. It was my first time out of here since that other Monday in April I don't want to remember, and Minerva's first since we got here in February. The guards told us to put on our street clothes, so we knew right off we weren't going to La 40.

I rubbed rosewater in my hair, then braided it with Santiclo's ribbon, humming the whole while the little boat song my Jacqui loves to clap to. I was so sure we were going to be released. Minerva wagged her finger at me and reminded me of the new cardinal rule she's added to her other three: Stay hopeful but do not expect anything.

And she was right, too. We were driven down to the courthouse for our joke of a trial. No one was there to represent us and we couldn't talk or defend ourselves either. The judge told Minerva if she tried one more time, she would be in contempt, and the sentence and fine would be increased.

Five years and a fine of five thousand pesos for each of us. Minerva just threw her head back and laughed. And of course, I bowed mine and cried.

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Wednesday, June 15 (I've decided to stop counting 15 (I've decided to stop counting-it's just too depressing!) My journal has stayed in our hiding place, everyone helping themselves to clean pages when they need paper. I haven't minded. Not much has mattered for days on end.

Minerva says I'm understandably depressed. The sentence on top of what I went through. She read what I wrote, and she wants me to tell the OAS (when and if they ever come) about what happened at La 40. But I'm not sure I can do that.

You have nothing to be ashamed of! Minerva says, all fierce. She is doing my face in sculpture so I'm supposed to sit still.

Yes, the authorities are now encouraging us to start hobbies-again, the OAS on their backs. Minerva has taken up sculpture, in prison of all places. She had Mama bring her some plaster and tools. After each session, Santiclo is supposed to collect them, but he's pretty lenient with us.

So we now have a couple of little scalpels in our hiding place along with our other contraband, the knife, the sewing scissors, the pocket mirror, four nails, and the file, and of course, this diario. diario.

What is this a.r.s.enal for? I ask Minerva. What are we going to do with it?

Sometimes I think revolution has become something like a habit for Minerva.

Friday, June 24, hot as h.e.l.l in here We now have two new women guards. Minerva thinks they've been a.s.signed to us to impress the OAS with the prison system's delicacy towards women prisoners.

Delicacy! These women are as tough or tougher than the men, especially the fat one Valentina. She's nice enough to us politicals but a real witch to the others, seeing as the OAS won't be investigating their treatment. The nonpolitical girls have such wonderful, foul mouths. Here's their little chant when Valentina is out of earshot: Valentina, Valentina, la guardona, la guardona, stupid b.l.o.o.d.y fool went to suck milk from a cow but got under the bull.

The guards are all worried about the rumored coming of the OAS. We've heard that if a political complains, the guards in charge of that cell will be in very hot water indeed-maybe even shot! El Jefe cannot afford any more international trouble right now.

During our Little School, Minerva warns us not to be swayed by these rumors or manipulated by "fine" treatment. We must let the Committee know the real situation or this h.e.l.l will go on. She gives me a pointed look as she says this.

Monday, June 27, 27, midafternoon midafternoon I've told myself, Mate, don't pay them any attention. But with so few distractions in this place, what else am I supposed to think of?

There's quite a gossip underground in this place. It relies mostly on our knocking system, but notes are also pa.s.sed, and brief exchanges sometimes take place in the visitors' hall on Thursdays. News travels. And it really has hurt to hear the ugly rumor going around. My Leandro-along with Valera, Fafa, Faxas, Manzano, and Macarrulla-is being accused of being a traitor.

Minerva says, Mate, don't listen to evil tongues. But sometimes she gets so angry herself at what comes through the wall that she says she is going to tell the whole world what happened to me, what persuasion was used on poor Leandro.

Oh please, Minerva, I plead. Please.

The movement is falling apart with all this mistrust and gossip. Manolo is so worried, he has tapped out a communique that has come all the way down the line. The comrades had his permission to work on that book. There is nothing in it but information the SIM had already collected after months of tortures. Manolo admits even he talked, giving names of those who were already caught or had escaped abroad.

Companeros y y companeras. We must not fall prey to petty divisions, but concentrate on our next point of attack-the companeras. We must not fall prey to petty divisions, but concentrate on our next point of attack-the OAS OAS members when they come. If sanctions are imposed, the goat will fall. members when they come. If sanctions are imposed, the goat will fall.

We are suffering a setback but we have not been beaten.

Liberty or Death!

But the terrible rumors continue.