Freedom Fighters

18. Castros

Red bricks lined the walls of the farmhouse in which the Castro brothers resided. Its once pristine white roof tiles were now stained grey with dust and rust. With tingling anxiety apparent in his nervous steps, Dario approached it.

Just that fateful afternoon, Juanita informed him that they would be having dinner with her brothers. Somehow, that news did not sit well with him, filling him with a inexplicable reluctance. "Don't worry, it will be fine," she had said with an reassuring smile. Well, Dario was not so sure about it. Camilo only brushed off his concerns with a few laughs, saying that he should be honoured to have some time with the most iconic opposition leaders.

The door was already open and as he stopped by the entrance, he could hear conversation from within.

"Are you sure about this plan, Fidel?"

"Yes, Che. I think we should go ahead on it."

"Okay, I will share it with the other commanders."

A thumping of footsteps came his way and out the door stepped Che Guevara. Seeing Dario, he stopped in his tracks, a wide smile forming across his handsome features.

"You must be Dario Ruiz!"

"Yes." Dario smiled back, infected by the doctor's warm demeanor. Che's glittering dark eyes seemed to hold the vigor of life within them. And his smile held the power to disarm any possible forms of apprehension towards him. He lay a hand on Dario's shoulder and stepped closer. 

"I'm Che Guevara, the doctor. You have any injuries or sickness, you come to me and I will care for you, yes?"

"Yes, and thank you."

"Okay, I have to leave now. Have a good dinner, Dario." With another pat on his back, Che turned for the barn and strode away. 

Doctor...

"Dario! Is that you? Come on in!" Juanita's voice echoed from the inside, shaking him out of his thoughts.

Gathering his breath, Dario entered the farmhouse with his hands clasped by his sides. Immediately as he walked into the living room, he could feel the burning eyes on him. The room seemed to be a little too small for his comfort and in its center lay an even smaller dining table, modestly made with glossy pine. Opposite him sat the two Castro brothers, Fidel and Raúl, who were engaging in hushed conversation. Juanita smiled at him, gesturing for him to sit with her. As he neared the table, the brothers stood up from their seats and walked over to him.

He shook their outstretched hands and reciprocated their embraces in kind before sitting down beside Juanita. The surface of the table shone in the glow of the candles that stood in its four corners. He took an apprehensive look around the living room, which was partitioned off from the kitchen by a wall. The ceiling hung low above them and the setting sun, through the window, bathed the room in a mellow orange light that would soon transition into a cool darkness.

Somehow, Dario wished that dinner would not be such an intimate affair. Directly opposite him sat Fidel, whose face seemed to be partially shrouded in darkness despite the proximity of the candles. He sat so close that Dario could easily touch him with a partial stretching of his arms.

"I made some beef stew for dinner," Juanita announced, beaming with excitement.

It was then Dario took notice of the huge lidded pot right in the middle of the table. Juanita removed the lid to reveal a bubbling stew. Chunks of tender looking beef, potatoes and carrots floated in the reddish brown viscous liquid, creating a smell that would make anyone water in their mouths. They took turns to ladle the stew into their bowls that had already been filled with rice and boiled beans.