Refugee: List 5

The officers conferred, and Isabel held her breath. “The commandant says that for health reasons the pregnant woman may come ashore and receive medical attention,” the Spanish-speaking officer said.

“O God, forgive this man, and have mercy on him and give him strength and pardon him. Be generous to him and cause his entrance to be wide and wash him with water and snow and hail. Cleanse him of his transgressions as white cloth is cleansed of stains. Give him an abode better than his home, and a family better than his family, and a wife better than his wife. Take him into Paradise, and protect him from the punishment of the grave and from the punishment of hellfire.”

“O God, forgive this man, and have mercy on him and give him strength and pardon him. Be generous to him and cause his entrance to be wide and wash him with water and snow and hail. Cleanse him of his transgressions as white cloth is cleansed of stains. Give him an abode better than his home, and a family better than his family, and a wife better than his wife. Take him into Paradise, and protect him from the punishment of the grave and from the punishment of hellfire.”

Everyone fell quiet and looked appropriately chastised.

Josef was more interested in the small police boat that had navigated its way through the flotilla and was pulling up to the St. Louis.

The policeman seemed genuinely flattered and surprised by all the attention. He was a short, stocky man with olive skin, a wide face, and a thick mustache. He wore blue pants, a gray shirt with epaulets on the shoulders, and a matching gray beret.

Officer Padron could see his confusion, and he pantomimed what he meant by turning his wrists upside down, closing his eyes, and lolling his head back like he was asleep.

Isabel’s father had rigged up a makeshift sunshade out of his shirt for her mother, and she seemed better now.

If the riots and trading for the gasoline were the first verse, and the tanker and the storm the second verse, this part of their trip — the long, hot, stagnant day and a half they had been traveling from the Bahamas to Florida — this was the bridge.

This was limbo. They could do nothing but wait.

“A tourniquet!” Lito cried. “We have to get something around his leg to stop the bleeding!”

Little white buildings with terra-cotta roofs rose up tree-covered hills, and on top of one of the hills was an ancient gray castle.

He took his shirt collar in both hands and ripped it along the seam, rending his garment as he’d done when Professor Weiler had been buried at sea.

Isabel remembered the wake for her grandmother. It had been a quiet, somber occasion.

He made the sign of the cross over Iván’s body, and said, “Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen.”