Arrival at Santa Clara Penitentiary

 

The bus came to a large Spanish colonial building; it was the Santa Clara prison built in the 1900’s. It had a large central courtyard, nine-foot ceilings and clay tile roofing. Rectangular rooms with their main doors facing the courtyard and a latrine close to the outer walls divided the building into cellblocks.

After arriving at the main door, and passing the guarded gates, they came into the prison courtyard. There, the guards opened the chain that held them together. For the boy using a paving stone to brain a policeman, his action warranted a kick in the ass into his assigned cellblock. He entered it, surrounded by what seemed a tableau of leering faces. Nobody pushed the other prisoner into the larger cellblock; the guards spoke to someone close to the grate door and had him enter.

Antonio was on a bunk close to the door as the new prisoner came in. 

Twenty-two or twenty-three, guessed Antonio; and looks like a gringo, with blond hair and fair skin. He noticed that Pablo, the muscular self-nominated cellblock leader, approached the new arrival. This will be interesting, thought Antonio.

— Welcome to the political ward, young lawbreaker, what is your name?

Pablo was an impressive mass of tall brawn, olive skinned, curly hair and mustache modeled after a Mexican outlaw. For the last two years, he had built an intimidatory stance towards the rest of his cellmates, but the new prisoner was slender and as tall as Pablo and appeared relaxed.

— My name is Emilio. What is yours?

— Pablo. Didn’t the guards tell you how this works?

— No, the guards didn’t. I imagine you will tell me.

— The warden has provided us with enough bunks, bed linen, and towels. We take turns every week, washing it all in the laundry room. And we are all innocent. What did you do against the government? This is the political ward.

— They caught me three days ago coming down from the Escambray at the checkpoint near Cumanayagua.

— Is that so? You have a strange accent. Where are you from?

— I am Venezuelan. And you?

— A Venezuelan indeed! and coming down from the Escambray. Perhaps you are a chivato.

— If I were a snitch, I would be indeed fortunate. None was a volunteer like me in those mountains. The rest are quemados (burnt) with criminal records getting fat on the money from Florida and the pigs bought with it.

— A strong accusation from someone captured as you have. But let me show you this place and your bunk.

Pablo showed Emilio his bunk and presented him to the other inmates.

Antonio noted the looks. Inquisitive and hostile. An interrogatory was next. Pablo presided and carried the questioning.

— Now, we will ask our new friend some questions to learn about his allegiances. That boy that came manacled with you was up in the Escambray mountains?

— No, he hit a police officer with a paving stone at a square here in Santa Clara

— Why did he do it? Is he a revolutionary?

— No, retards miss some things. He missed the prohibition of shining shoes in places off limits to bootblacks; the police officer stomped and ruined his bootblack box. He did not missing the cop’s head with a paving stone.

— Do you know what the police did to punish him for his aggression?

— No, I am a newcomer.

— They put him with the homosexuals. He is a fresh fruit for them; buggering newcomers is their specialty. Do you like the DRE and antagonize the 26 of July Movement in the Escambray?

— I came here to help overthrow Fulgencio Batista and to help set up a democracy in Cuba. I am unwilling to take part in your revolutionary differences.

Some loud guffaws followed these words.

— What do you think of our leader, Fidel? What did those DRE guys tell you?

— If he is for a democratic government, he will be great for Cuba.

— What do you understand about a “democratic government”?

— A government where every citizen will take part in discussing the pros and cons of the government policies without fear of retaliation.

— Did they teach you that in Venezuela? This country needs cleaning. We need a powerful man empowered to do it without hindrances from philosophers or democratic idealists. He will have all these corrupted criminals in the government face a firing squad after a democratic trial. Do you have any objections to that?

— I will respond to that with a question of my own. Have you ever read the writings of somebody you disagree with, but found a nugget of truth in their writings?

— No, my allegiance to Fidel excludes anything incoherent with his thought.

— Well, I am a Christian and a firm believer. I found a nugget of truth in things said by Mikhail Bakunin, a Russian philosopher, a non-believer, and anti-Christian. “If there is a devil in human history, that devil is the principle of command. It alone, sustained by the ignorance and stupidity of the masses, without which it could not exist, is the source of all the catastrophes, all the crimes, and all the infamies of history.”, furthermore, he added “If you took the most ardent revolutionary, vested him in absolute power, within a year he would be worse than the Tsar himself.”

Antonio reflected — this Venezuelan youth will have problems.