Freedom Fighters

2. Brothers

The familiar smell of grilled meat and fried plantains wafted through the air as Dario walked into the place he called his second home.

The Ruiz family restaurant "La cocina de la familia Ruiz" was just starting to fill up this evening. Nothing grand or fancy, just a local spot popular amongst Centro Havana's working class folks. Many of the customers recognized him and yelled out greetings which Dario courteously returned.

With Camilo behind him, Dario headed straight for the kitchen. Pots and pans lined the walls. A few helpers in aprons stood by a long table to the left side, chopping up vegetables with precision. Over the darkened stove on the right stood a stocky middle-aged lady stirring up a huge pot of what he suspected to be black bean soup.

"Mama!" Dario shouted.

Mariana Ruiz turned around, her weathered face breaking into a smile upon the sight of her beloved only son.

"Oh mijo!" Mariana stopped her stirring, pacing over to plant a kiss on her son's cheeks. "And Camilo too!"

"Good evening Tía!" Camilo greeted. "You look as ravishing as ever! And might I say, your black bean soup smells absolutely amazing."

"Oh, Camilo, you have such a way with words."

Camilo grinned in response.

"Where's Papa?" Dario asked.

"He's gone out for the night."

"I see. Do you need help in the kitchen for the evening?"

"Hmm... I think it will be alright. Since Camilo is here, you can spend some time with him."

"Thanks Mama, we will be outside if you need anything." Dario said, before exiting the kitchen with Camilo behind him.

They took their seat at their usual spot, which was thankfully empty, at the corner table beside the bar counter. Dario looked around at the busy tables. An old couple eating side by side, studiously bent over their steaming bowls of soup. A group of middle-aged men in greasy shirts laughing with lit cigarettes in hand. Students collapsing with helpless giggles as a stern woman dining alone nearby frowned. A family with their little children. The noise level was high. The smoke level as well. But it did not bother Dario at all. It was home.

"So, my friend, keen to join the student movement?" Camilo said with a wry smile once they got seated.

"Not this again..." Dario sighed. Ever since Camilo had joined the movement a year upon his attending of Havana University, he had been constantly trying to get him on board, with no success.

"Why! You should really join up, my friend. You hate Batista, don't you? I can easily introduce you to the rest of the guys. You would fit right in!"

"I... I do not feel I can commit to the movement."

"Why?"

Camilo's dark eyes assessed Dario for a short moment. A little pan of disappointment flashed across his face as Dario turned away.

In truth, Dario disapproved of his friend's involvement with the underground movement. He felt that the situation in Havana was a little too precarious to be involved in anti-government activities. There were a few arrests here and there and some minor clashes with the police so far, but Dario suspected it will not be long before Batista clamped down hard on them in brutal fashion.

"Camilo, don't you ever fear that this may become real?" Dario asked in a shaky low tone, sidestepping the question.

Camilo raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"