Savage Broken Pieces

 Why be Cuban if you can’t be crazy?

Landing back home amid the chaos of mid-1980s Key West, I ask the age-old question along with my flamboyant and sarcastic half-brother, Joey. We pick right back up where we left off in our absurd endeavors to seek out truths in the family’s complicated history. Are we liberating heroes or smuggling criminals? Perceptions vary wildly.

My supernatural beliefs fueling this quest again find me at odds with Michael. His golden boy image and promising political career are in question as clear answers to my unexplained daring departure during the 1980 Cuban refugee crisis come to light with my sudden return. It was easier to leave during the hurricane, fleeing the self-created inland storm of my reckless choices with him and Michael’s ruthless retribution for them. I am again drawn to the fire of his desire, craving its redemption but have been burned before. He can fix something broken deep inside and can also destroy me. I fear I will shoot him again in his process to save me. I am sure of this as strong fortitude in one’s depravity was mandatory in our family’s line of work in the profitable and perilous Florida Straits.

We follow our determined Cuban refugee father, infamous for fiercely freeing his countrymen while struggling to direct his lively clan with our mothers by his side. One of old Floridian wealth and the other an ex-stripper. Our eccentric Cuban grandmother, banned from most local shops due to excessive shoplifting, considers herself the family’s moral compass. She has a lot to say, while my mysterious grandfather has only uttered one cryptic phrase since the fateful night of fleeing Cuba. A younger sister, guided by her magic eight-ball answers for life’s decisions, joins in the collective mayhem.

Artifacts from the past unlock my waking mind to the paradox of the recurring nightmare that made me run all those years ago. It is not any of my old memories but only a prophecy of what will come. A gift of insight from my Tia, who was murdered during the Batista to Castro regime changes, transcends my journey. The dream is to be followed dutifully, not outrun any longer. Despite my looming reckoning with Michael, where he will levy his justice on me, and the ominous warnings of the dream start coming true, I answer its call. In search of my fate from Key West and the Bimini Islands to the Greek culture of Tarpon Springs along with meeting those from my Cuban roots, fulfilling my dangerous destiny. What else is a Savage to do?

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