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The Red Umbrella: Chapter 31

CASTRO PLEDGES FIGHT TO DEATH —THE HUMBOLDT STANDARD, DECEMBER 25, 1961

In my dream, television star Ricky Nelson was lying by me on a beach in Varadero while Jennifer and Ivette tossed a Frisbee along the water’s edge. The air was full of the ocean’s saltiness, and I could feel the warmth of the sun on my bare legs. It was as perfect a day as I could imagine, and I didn’t want to leave it behind.

“Wake up! C’mon, wake up!” Frankie shook me by the shoulder.

I buried my head beneath the pillow.

“Lucy, it’s Christmas. There are presents under the tree. I already peeked and saw them. Hurry!” He pulled my arm, almost dragging me off the bed.

“All right, all right. I’m up.” I wiped the sleep out of my eyes, put on my robe, and followed Frankie back to the living room.

“Merry Christmas!” Mrs. Baxter greeted both of us with a hug while Mr. Baxter set up his home-movie camera to film us opening our gifts. “Go ahead, you two. Check your stockings. See if Santa brought you anything.” She glanced back at Mr. Baxter. “You got that thing working, Henry?”

“Humpf. All full of dust,” Mr. Baxter muttered, blowing into the lens.

I walked to the red stocking that hung on the fireplace. Frankie had already slipped his stocking off its hook and was sticking his hand down into it.

“Well? What did Santa bring you, Frankie?” Mrs. Baxter asked.

“Woo-hoo!” Frankie yelled without fully pulling out his gift. “I know what this is!” He wiggled a baseball glove out from the stocking. “Wow!” Frankie stared at the brown leather mitt. “It’s a real Mickey Mantle glove! Look, Mr. Baxter!” Frankie ran over to show the camera and Mr. Baxter. “It’s a perfect fit,” he said, putting on the glove.

“And you, Lucía?” Mrs. Baxter smiled, her hands clasped together.

I reached down into the stocking and pulled out a small silver compact of pressed powder and a tube of pink lipstick.

A huge smile spread across my face. I was finally going to start wearing some makeup. I felt like whooping and hollering, too.

“Thank you,” I said.

Mr. Baxter gave me a slight nod from behind the camera.

“Oh, we didn’t have anything to do with those gifts. Those were from Santa Claus. Our gifts are here.” Mrs. Baxter pulled out three boxes from beneath the tree.

“More presents!” Frankie shouted, removing the glove.

“These are a little more practical, though. We can’t be as extravagant as Santa.” Mrs. Baxter waved at the camera and then handed Frankie a box.

Frankie quickly ripped the wrapping and opened his gift. He pulled out a plaid shirt, two pairs of socks, and a new baseball. “Cool,” he declared, dropping the clothes on the floor and grabbing the ball to try it out with his glove.

By this time, I was opening my own box. The Baxters had given me a new checkered skirt, a bright pink sweater, and a knitted scarf.

“I hope it all fits,” Mrs. Baxter said.

I draped the skirt around my waist. “I’m sure it does. I’ll wear it to Mass today! I love it all.”

Mrs. Baxter smiled. “I knitted that scarf myself, you know.”

I wrapped it around my neck, flinging one end over my shoulder as if I were a movie star. “In that case, I love it even more!”

“Ahem.” From behind the camera, Mr. Baxter pointed to another present.

“That one is for the two of you,” Mrs. Baxter said.

“What’s inside?” Frankie asked as I sat down to untie the ribbon and open the box.

I pulled out a folded note.

Frankie looked over my shoulder. “A piece of paper is our present?”

“No, Frankie. The note says that the Baxters are paying for a call to Cuba today. So we can wish Mamá and Papá Feliz Navidad.” I looked up at the Baxters. They were beaming. “Thank you so much,” I said. “That’s the best gift of all!”

“Yeah.” Frankie nodded. “But that Mickey Mantle glove is a real close second!”


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