The Firefly Letters (10 page)

For the first time, Elena sneaks out

to help us rescue
cocuyos
.

Dogs and goats follow Fredrika

while she ransoms captive fireflies

and turns them loose.

Elena tells Fredrika that animals

follow her because she feeds them

from her bag of bananas and cookies,

but Fredrika insists

that friendly creatures follow her

simply because they know

that she believes

all animals have souls.

Without even trying to be a teacher,

Fredrika is teaching us,

showing us how to see things in new ways

instead of always thinking

the same old tired thoughts

that have been passed along by strangers

day after day, year after year

without any spirit of amazement

or wonder.

I embroider until my eyes turn red.

I sew with excitement and energy.

My fingers hurt, and my shoulders ache

from bending over my embroidery hoop,

pretending to feel great enthusiasm

for my hope chest.

Mamá is delighted.

She had worried that I might

become lazy

as the year of my marriage

grows closer.

If she knew my secret plan,

she would slap me, or weep.

Fredrika will soon know my plan.

I need her help.

We must work together.

She cannot refuse.

Poor deluded Mamá.

She loves me, but her dreams

and mine are like two islands

separated by the waves

of a deep sea.

I won't be in Cuba much longer.

There was a time when I imagined

that I would be happy

living in any land

blessed with winter sun,

but now I know

that even though I still think of this island

as one of the outer courts of Paradise—

an Eden of natural beauty—

I could not bear to stay here

in the presence of slavery's

dreadful sadness.

Isn't life sorrowful enough

in places without slavery,

where so many men

treat the women

of their own families

like possessions of wood or stone,

useful objects

without souls?

Each embroidery stitch feels

like a step,

as if I am walking outdoors

in sunlight.

To buy more cloth and thread,

I ride in the swift
volanta
carriage

with Mamá.

She makes me sit up front

right behind Beni and his horse—

in the
niña bonita
seat — the “pretty girl” seat

where rich men can see me

and fall in love.

Mamá does not allow me

to set foot on the street

where my satin shoes

would get dirty.

So we stay in the carriage

while shopkeepers rush out

with an array of silver trays

bearing samples

of colorful fabrics

for us to see

and touch.

I choose silk

that feels like water

and linen that looks

like morning light

and satin as shiny as stars

and an exotic cloth

with sparkly threads

that make me think

of fireflies.

I ask Mamá to let me buy

pearls and jewels

so I can sew them into the centers

of all my embroidered flowers.

She is thrilled at the chance

to spend money so freely,

buying luxuries

the way other people

buy precious handfuls

of beans and rice.

Elena tells me she has a secret plan.

I have no idea what she means,

and she will not explain.

She knows I cannot read,

so she reads out loud from her journal

where she has written about Fredrika,

who told her that if she owns slaves

when she grows up

she will always have to live

with the temptation

of taking out her temper

on those who do her no harm.

Elena is rich, so I cannot imagine

how she could ever avoid

owning slaves.

She would have to run away with a poor man

and live in a hut, sweeping the dirt floor

and hoeing weeds

in a garden of wildflowers

and hunger.

Today I will explain

my thrilling plan

to dear Fredrika,

and I will boldly

ask her to help.

I wonder what she talks about

when she is alone with Cecilia

wandering outdoors so freely

like men

or boys?

Do they know that I feel

like I could go mad

cooped up in this house

like a songbird

in a cage?

Am I selfish

to long for the freedom

to explore?

Shouldn't I just be thinking

about helping Cecilia

who has no freedom

at all?

Elena's idea

is enchanting!

She has learned

how to dream

of a magical world

without masters