BY: Paola Mendez-Betances
It was well past midnight and Alejandro was restless. He knew he should get some sleep, he had to be up in just a matter of hours for the two-hour drive to San Juan, but his mind was racing and, despite the air conditioning, the room felt hot and suffocating. So he stared at the ceiling of his makeshift room and listened. The sounds of the night were much different here than back in Florida, what with all the stray cats that seemingly decided to have a screaming competition at this particular time of night. The streets also boasted a soothing lack of traffic. It allowed him to clearly hear the wind blowing, metal chimes twinkling in unison. A few hours earlier, he was able to hear the clinking of dishes in the apartment next door and conversations in hushed Spanish. But it was the harmonic chirping of the coquís that really captured his attention. Lying in bed, Alejandro felt that he was listening to a concert being performed just for him, that tonight the island itself was playing him a second farewell.
His ten days back in Puerto Rico had breezed by. It felt like floating through a dream, one steeped in the sweet taste of piraguas and the gentle cradling of ocean waves. He had tried to soak it all in: the dazzling sunlight, the rich smell of the foods drifting from kiosks and restaurants, the warm presence of family and friends. But in the end, he just kept grasping at those sensations as if he were chasing seashells down the shore. And now his trip is over.
A heavy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach at that thought, an emptiness so strong it crept up his throat and settled like bile in his mouth. Unable to enjoy the sounds of the night, he kicked off his covers and walked down the short hall into the tiny kitchen for a drink of water.
Stumbling into the dim kitchen, he opened the fridge and grabbed a plastic water bottle. He walked over to the kitchen table and settled himself down on a chair, facing away from the hallway to stare at the little window in the back wall. He couldn’t see much through it, just a small strip of grass that lined the backs of all the apartments in this small neighborhood. The AirBnB had come as a courtesy from one of his dad’s family friends, and Alejandro found the place quite cozy.
But it wasn’t just cozy to him, it was familiar. This wasn’t the first or even the second time he had been in this neighborhood. He remembered long summers spent in an apartment across the grass with his aunt, playing board games and having water balloon fights with the neighborhood kids.
Throughout the trip he kept seeing places like these, places that were vaguely familiar, as if they were stuck in a corner of his memory. His parents kept pointing them out and reminiscing, but to him it simply felt jarring. It was as if someone had taken a funhouse mirror to them and implanted the reflection into his brain.
“What are you doing awake?” The quiet voice startled Alejandro out of his thoughts. Turning, he saw the outline of his father, shifting from side to side at the entrance to the hall.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Alejandro responded. His father gave a short laugh and pointed at the water bottle on the table.
“Guess I had the same idea.” Alejandro nodded and turned away, taking a sip from the opened bottle. For a little while, what was most likely only a few seconds, he heard nothing, as if his father had paused at the kitchen entrance. It eventually passed and he heard him shuffle into the kitchen and open the fridge.
“Well, don’t stay up too late. We have to wake up early tomorrow,” his dad said shortly as he walked past. Alejandro hummed in acknowledgment. He felt his father recede into the hallway.
“I can’t sleep,” he suddenly blurted. There was that stillness again and then he heard the sound of his father’s footsteps hesitantly walking over to the table. He settled himself in front of his son with a final scrape of the kitchen chair being pulled back. There was another pause.
“What’s wrong?” he finally asked him.
“I can’t sleep,” Alejandro repeated, feeling stupid. His insomnia was not the problem itself, rather an unfortunate symptom of everything bothering him. But sitting at the kitchen table, his father kindly asking him about it, he suddenly felt the intense need to retreat into a shell. He had always felt a barrier between them, like the oppressive humidity of a hot summer’s day. And tonight, more than ever, he felt its presence like a heavy weight in the room.
His father nodded slowly, sensing that he wasn’t going to get much of an answer to his question. They stayed quiet for a moment, occasionally taking a drink from their respective bottles of water before his dad spoke.
“I had fun at Boqueron today. Nothing quite like the beaches of the west coast.”
Alejandro smiled a little. “Yeah, it’s been a long time since we’ve been to the beach,” he responded simply. Then, he added, “I have to say, I loved being in the water but I think the coconut ice cream was my favorite.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you that excited over ice cream since you were six,” his father said, laughing warmly. He smiled wistfully. “You know, it reminded me of all the times I went to the beach with my friends, back in high school.”
Alejandro, who had been taking another sip of water, paused. He leaned over intently, curious to hear his father’s stories.
“It seemed like we spent our entire youth out on the sand.” He paused and leaned forward as well, as if sharing a secret. “Sometimes we’d even skip school. Those were good memories. But honestly, I think my favorite time at the beach was when we all went to Culebra.”
“Why?” Alejandro asked.
“They’re the prettiest beaches in Puerto Rico,” his father said succinctly. “The water’s so clear it reflects the color of the sky and makes it easy to see all the fish swimming around. And the waves are so calm, it’s very relaxing.” His father leaned back, smiling. “Like Bora Bora but closer to home.”
Alejandro laughed a little. He used to be obsessed with visiting Bora Bora when he was a kid, so much so that he’d begged his parents to take him there for his quince. He ended up changing his mind, which was why he was here instead. He was glad he was here.
“I want to go to Culebra one day,” Alejandro announced. His father laughed.
“Next trip I’ll make sure we have Culebra on our schedule. Now that I have a new job, we’ll definitely be able to make another trip, sooner this time, too.” A gentle hush fell over the room. It felt lighter, somehow, as if a cool breeze had wafted in.
“I missed being here,” Alejandro whispered. The emptiness he had felt lying in bed was back now, weighing him down with grief. His father nodded. He lifted the water bottle up to his lips to take a sip. He recapped it and set it down lightly on the table.
“Can I tell you something?” he asked, looking around at the small kitchen. Alejandro nodded. “I never thought I’d be back here.”
Alejandro stayed silent, his heart beginning to race a little.
“When we left, I didn’t really think much about Puerto Rico. I had you guys to take care of, I didn’t have time to look back. I focused on work, on making sure you were all provided for. It’s the reason I work so hard, it’s for you and your brother. And, wow, I look at you two now and I think of how proud I am, of both of you. A lot more responsible than I was at your age, that’s for sure.”
His father paused, took a deep breath. In the darkness, Alejandro could see the outline of his father wiping at his eyes.
“I guess in a way…” his father continued, haltingly “I was kind of ignoring how much I missed it here. I don’t think I realized it until now. But I don’t ever want to forget this place again.”
Alejandro nodded, hoping the darkness hid the tears streaming down his face. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had needed this acknowledgment from his father. He wasn’t sure why, he couldn’t really put it into words. But looking into his fathers solemn eyes, Alejandro was sure he understood.
Alejandro let out an awkward laugh that his dad mimicked. They sat at the kitchen table grinning at each other, letting the music of the coquís take over. They listened as the soft serenade welcomed them home.