I too am Fidel's son. One of many. But not the only one to tell his story. I live in the United States in my body and in Cuba in my mind.
It was in 1960 when George first took up the cause of the Cuban revolution in New York City. He witnessed Castro outside the Hotel Teresa. He joined Fair Play for Cuba and went with fellow-traveling Americans to harvest the sugar cane with the Venceramos Brigade. What appealed to George was Fidel's apparently macho committed lifestyle to revolutionary action.
George's friend Robert says that like Lenin and other revolutionaries, Castro came from the aristocratic guilt feelings to make himself messiah of his country.
Robert even warned George, "You are crazy getting involved. You're already involved. You met Victor. He was a KGB agent, a spy in the big apple, and was deported. He even spoke Bronx English. Your Comrade Vic was no American. He was working for an all-Soviet America."
George continued to be involved in the left wing committee, Fair Play for Cuba, until Lee Harvey Oswald claimed a membership, and the organization quickly disbanded after President Kennedy's assassination - November 1963.
"I warned you, George, Victor would lead you astray. But you wanted to be led by the Red Colonel."
"How did you know Victor's rank?"
"After Oswald's defection Victor went back to the USSR. I read it in the "Post". Wake up, George. Can't you take off your rose-colored glasses?"
The taller Robert with the handsome tweed suit contrasted with George with his working class clothes. What drove them together was a deep love, a brotherhood of friendship that began when George's parents left home for Paris and Mexico during McCarthyism. Robert's liberal parents practically adopted George. They were chamber quartet musicians and this gave them the way to have George see his parents in various countries in the world during their tours.
"It's time, George, you went into therapy; your politics and love life have troubled me."
"Just because you have gone into psychology, Robert, doesn't give you the right to analyze me."
"There's no one else to look after you."
"I can look after myself."
"Every woman you date seems to date you."
"What do you mean, Robert?"
"They try to figure you out but can't. And all you think about is still Cuba. They couldn't care less."
"That's not true. Look at Pilar."
"But you only date Spanish-speaking women."
"So what's it to you? Just because, Robert, you married so young..."
"Marriage kept me sane."
"Like your recently adopted belief in God. You are the crazy one, Robert. Imagine to come from rational parents and you to find religion."
"I told you, George, I found God."
"Like I found my parents. They're dead too like God."
"Your parents were murdered in Mexico," said Robert quietly.
"It was a political crime."
"To you, George, everything is political. It could have been a robbery."
"They took dad's Stradivarius that he loved."
"What did those thugs know about it?"
"They never found it until it turned up in a pawnshop right here in Manhattan."
George drinks dark Cuban coffee and Robert drinks green tea.
"You want me to be your confessor."
"No, Robert, I'm not the religious one. You want to be my grand inquisitor; today psychiatrists are our priests."
"Well, look how they use it in Cuba and the Soviet Union."
"I do have something to tell you. I went to a bar last night."
"And who was she this time, George, that you picked up?"
"It was a he, but I didn't pick him up. I picked his brain. He struck me in a fascinating way. He told me he was one of Fidel Castro's many bastards. He is actually Castro's son."
"Were you drunk or smoking reefer?"
"No, I'm on the level, Robert. Fidel will be over any minute. He stayed with me part of the night."
"Have you gone gay?"
"No, Robert. I'm just intrigued with Fidel."
"He probably made it all up."
"No, there were too many nuances that fit. I want you to meet him. That's why I called you early to be here."
"And woke my kid up."
"Pavel can get back to sleep easily. How is your wife?"
"Suddenly you ask. You never liked her. She has a name. You felt angry with me when I married Nadia."
"I thought you married her to make her a citizen."
"Don't be naive."
"Or perhaps because she had your baby."
"You knew that Nadia's parents were former citizens of Prague until the Slansky trial convinced them to defect. It was because of their politics that you won't ever meet her and refused to be at my wedding."
"They were traitors to my ideals."
"Then how could you talk to Fidel's bastard? Or was it love for Fidel at first sight?"
"You're nuts."
"I always felt, George, you were bisexual, but Freud..."
"What?"
"I even felt you liked me."
"Isn't that what you Freudian fellows call projection?"
Robert looks away from George.
"It's you, Robert, who liked me. I remember when I came back from Cuba and you felt my muscles."
George makes a muscle.
"You think it was sexual. Freud has a lot to say on that."
The doorbell rings.
"It's your so-called Fidel. I think you are breathing heavy."
"Screw you, Robert."
