It was the filling

When abuelo Arturo y Abuela Maximina left Cuba, they left with us and moved to Miami with us. They even lived in the same house for the first few days. In fact our house was the temporary shelter for every Lopez family member, even some more distant relatives who I did not know. At one point there were more than 20 people living in that house although not for very long, perhaps a few days. Later abuelo and abuela moved to an apartment close to West Flagler although I do not really know what the address was. I know there was a motel we passed on the way back with the name “Ramona”. We all joked about it. Our sense of humor has changed since then. They subsequently moved to a house which was three blocks from ours on the other side of Sts. Peter and Paul. We could easily identify it as the house with the airplane in the carport. The owner had a small airplane, with no wings, but with the motor still functional, in the carport. He would sometimes start it up and at the time we would always wonder why he would do that. It is not like he was going to go anywhere. Abuelo said he was a come mie…. One time the guy bought a bird for $400. He was proud of that bird but abuelo was kind of upset at him. I do not know why, he was just the landlord. I asked abuelo, was it a pretty bird. Abuelo was kind of surprised and said “ estaba bonito pero mas bonito estaba el dinero” (It may be a pretty bird but he liked the money better). At that time abuelo had lost most of his sizable fortune so I guess it was understandable.

It was summer vacation and I must have been around 10 or 11 years old and had just gotten a fairly nice bicycle (de uso from Merl’s bicycle shop). Almost every morning I would go riding to their house and hang out. There was always something going on there since cousins from all over the place would visit. One day it was particularly quiet and I started talking to Abuela. She started telling me about Arturo (the eldest son, see previous entry) and about their children going through so much en el exilio. They were all working as “lava platos” (dishwashers), bellhops, porters and janitors. She was telling me how she always dreamed of all of them being more educated. He was kind of blaming their current state on her husband, abuelo. She was almost in tears. It was kind of sad and I remember then trying to get away from the topic so when abuelo Arturo joined us (I think he may have been making me pan con mantequilla, his specialty) I asked if they remembered El Dia del vomito. They really did not know what I was talking about I described what I remembered about it…
…We lived in the Reparto Nautico. Abuelo and Abuela lived in the big house in the corner facing the ocean. Across the street were three housed which were joined together in the second floor. These houses belonged to tia futi, tio lulo and tio Eduardo. Jorgito was a little boy who lived two houses away from us in the houses formerly occupied by Tio Eduardo and his family. It was Jorgito’s birthday in 1964 and his family decided to make a cake and celebrate the birthday. My cousins had already left for Miami so different people moved into the house. The people who moved in was Jorgito, Vipa y Daniel. They had a cousin whose name was El Coco. His girlfriend was Ibelize I think. She was very pretty and would read us stories outside the house. I think Turi or Carlos had a crush on her. Not me uh uh. I liked Susana, she was the wife of Dr. Raimundo or Reynaldo or some other name starting with the letter r. It was the day of Jorgito’s birthday. It was a party and we did not have that many parties at that time. It was very difficult to get the stuff that was needed to celebrate a party. After the party, in which they even had a piñata, people returned to their homes and that evening we heard of people around the neighborhood were getting sick. All of a sudden I started vomiting. Everyone but Carlos, my brother, vomited…….
……Abuelo and Abuela now remembered what I was talking about. They then talked about the way they remembered everything. Everyone in the whole neighborhood began to get sick. Some actually went to the hospital or the clinica. They spoke about specific individuals and how they were affected. Abuelo then started laughing. He remembered and said that not everyone was vomiting. “Esta no vomitaba,” (pointing towards abuela). She had it coming out the other end. “First it was gas……” This conversation went on for a while. At first abuela seemed mad at him; actually she was probably embarrassed. But then in remembering she started laughing too. She laughed so hard they both had to take off their glasses and wipe away tears. While still laughing Abuelo and abuela then said something to the effect “mira que nos hemos reido”….. They seemed to be grateful that they remembered old times. I think at this time I actually acquired a name in the house. Before then I was kind of “uno de los de Roberto.” I was proud and surprised at all of this. I was happy to make them laugh. I really did not do much, just started the conversation.

That summer I spent a lot of time at my grandfather’s house. There was no particular reason, but I was glad I did so. It was fun to go play baskeball at the school and then go to their house afterwards. I think they liked my being there as well. They never said it but then again we never do say it…

As far as why everyone started vomiting, everyone pretty much agreed that it was the cake (it was not like there was that much other food around in 1964..) Carlos proved to be invaluable in the forensic investigation. He was our pickiest eater. I remember he would eat the cake, but not the stuff in between the layers of panatela. He ate the cake but not the filling. It was the filling…definitely the filling.