New, original story:
“THE CABLE TV FREAK”
by
ANDELL FORGIE
Miranda Flores was born at the northern city of Puerto Plata in The Dominican Republic. Her eldest sister, Vera, had extended an invitation to visit her in Miami a good while ago. Seizing the opportunity years later, Miranda landed at Miami International and was admitted into the States, on entry, on a B-2 Visitors’ Visa. She truthfully told the officials that she was just visiting Florida to vacation for about two weeks.
The immigration officer photographed, fingerprinted her, then stamped her passport and gave her three weeks to stay in the country.
At that time, Vera was in the process of filing for her United States citizenship. After a couple weeks, Vera got a job for her sister in a small restaurant, in Hialeah. She then convinced Miranda that if she decided to stay in America it would not be a problem, because after she received her naturalization papers she could easily sponsor her to get a Green Card.
At first, Miranda was reluctant to act on Vera's suggestion. She really had not planned to live and work in the USA. She had actually visited Miami because she loved, missed and hadn't seen her only sister in over ten years. With much reservation she decided to go along with her sister's plan to help her stay in America. She dreaded the fact that officially she could be documented as an Illegal Alien, overstaying her allotted time and also working in America, breaking the law. She was a quiet, decent woman who had her own thriving grocery store in her homeland. She had no grave material needs and was comfortable with her life, in the Caribbean.
Things went well between the sisters for over a year, but just after Vera was sworn in and became an official United States citizen, she began to have fights with her younger sister.
This is Miranda’s story, in her own words:
"Things were okay with my sister and me for a long time, until she started to date a married, drug dealer from Cuba by the name of Juan. He was one of the vicious criminals whom Fidel Castro had forced out of his country during the last big Mariel Boat Lift. I did not like that hombre (man) and I said that to mi hermana (my sister), the first day that I met the guy.
"What pissed me off most about Juan was his damn conceited, materialistic attitude. He acted too cocky. He was always bragging about his mansions over on Miami Beach, a hotel on South beach, his boat, his fleet of Lincoln, Mercedes and Cadillac SUVs, and the many women that he could get into bed all at the same time.
“More than six women in Miami had kids that he fathered, and he did not even marry nor live with one of them. He was a dog, as far as I was concerned, but Vera wouldn't hear it. She was impressed by the gold trinkets, expensive gowns and hundred dollar bills that he dangled before her eyes. He moved us into a nice condominium and even bought her a brand new Lexus and all of that drove her insane. She even admitted to me that he gave her the kinkiest and best group sex she ever got in her entire life.
"Was this still my quiet, loving, big sister? I mean, caramba; she quit her nice job and started to do drug deliveries for this man in a brand new Cadillac Escalade SUV. Our parents did not raise us that way in El Barrio, in D.R. We were poor, but we had morals and decent, honest standards. We read our Bibles, went to church twice every week, and none of us were ever arrested … not even for littering or jay-walking.
“When I disapproved of my sister's new and reckless lifestyle, Juan gave her two very cold and vicious choices: she could either kick me out into the streets, or he would personally pay one of his gun-toting, killer bodyguards to bump me off and dump my body in the Atlantic Ocean to feed the sharks.
"I knew then, more than ever, that this man was a very wicked and dangerous person. I begged my entrapped sister to leave him. His money did not make him a classy person. To me, he was still just a damn bum, la cucaracha: a dirty cockroach.
“We had some cousins living in Washington Heights in New York City. I asked her to run away with me, to live with them for a while. I really wanted to save her soul. She allowed greed to cloud her judgment. She chose blood money over real family blood. Noticing all this, I began to pray and reach out to God about the problem. And, in answer to my prayers, I soon knew what I had to do.
"I spared Juan's bodyguard the trouble of wasting bullets on me. I had some money saved up so I rented a small apartment and tried to find another way to stay in America legally. One of my co-workers suggested the live-in domestic-sponsored route, assuring me that she had gotten her papers that way.
“One month later I moved into a nice house, located in affluent West Palm Beach. I had left a maid to help care for my family back home, but I was now doing the same menial job in order to survive in America. I was still wondering why I allowed Vera to talk me into staying. The couple I worked for, Jim and Deborah Stuart, were owners of a cable TV company. I found the both of them to be nice enough, down-to-earth folks. They treated me more like a relative, than a domestic helper.
“I had heard lots of women swear that this was absolutely the worst way to ever try to get a Green Card in the United States, but I had no problems. Things were going smoothly for me. The Stuarts had one son, a precocious, little darling, who played the piano well and loved Nintendo games, Disneyland, The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers and TV cartoons. He was in the first grade when I began working there, and soon he accepted, obeyed and respected me as if I were his real mother.
"On New Year's Eve, almost two years later, my boss and her husband threw a swank party, at the house for all their friends and employees. That was when I met the sly Emile Bastino, a cable service installation supervisor. Mr. Stuart introduced me to him, winking at me and letting me know that he was from my country and spoke fluent Spanish.
“Emile pinched my bottom that night and tried to kiss me out on a terrace. I told him that he should slow down and let us get to know each other a little better. I soon found out that this man lived on the same block as the Stuarts. He began to visit me every day at noon. I also realized that he had a wife and son; but that did not prevent him from showing an interest in me.
"My room did not have cable TV service and Emile hooked me up for free, promising to let me use the service for as long as I lived in the room. We painted the town red almost every weekend, going on hot dates. We flew to Atlantic City and Las Vegas on my days off. Whenever we slept together in the same bed, he made no sexual advances toward me, and I thought that to be a little strange. I figured that because he was married he was just being a good and faithful husband to his wife.
“Even though I respected him more for those positive virtues, I began to see him as a generous and very handsome man, and my feminine hormones began to stir and burn in my loins. As shy as I was, I still thought up a million ways in which to seduce him, the next time that he visited me.
“That is when my nightmare began.
“On the day that I dressed in the skimpiest of shorts and a tight, mid-riff Tee shirt, planning to give my body to Emile, he turned up at the house with slimy George, one of his subordinates. I hated this intruder from the word go. He smoked stinking, cheap, fake Cuban cigars, smelt moldy and was always picking his teeth with a small, dirty, old screwdriver.
“Then, to add insult to injury, when I pulled Emile aside and asked him what the hell was going on; he threw a freaky shocker in my face: ‘If I wanted to keep the free cable service, I would have to sleep with George once a week, while he watched us, videotaped us, and masturbated, and then came, spilling hot sperm on top of us’. That was how that grown man said he got his kicks.
"Hey; cable TV was no big thing. I was about to tell Emile where to shove the cable service and his shit-head sidekick, George, when he floored me again, with incriminating details about my deepest family secrets.
“Somehow he had a good friend who did illegal drug business with Juan, and that person also knew my sister. So Emile blackmailed me with the knowledge that he had heard of Vera's illicit actions. He showed me a dirty list of snitching phone numbers for the FBI, CIA, DEA, CIS, ICE and the immigration arm of the Department of Homeland Security that he carried around in his pocket. I was out of my mind with worry. I couldn’t let my poor old and sickly mother stay in our homeland and see our faces on her TV when Vera and I were arrested on God-knows-what charges. I am sure that she would have just keeled over, and died of a massive heart attack.
 “I just froze that day and allowed Emile’s blackmailing
dirty threats to force me into bed with that sleazy,
obnoxious, animal George, while he watched, had
fun with his high-definition digital camcorder, and licked
his chops. Almost every evening I would throw up
when I tried to eat my dinner. I started having restless
nights, and it showed during my workdays. I became
highly stressed and started checking the phone book’s
yellow pages for a shrink to help me.
“I couldn't handle the nasty crap for too long. So,
after a month; I packed all my stuff, made an airline
reservation and went back home to my lovely family
in Santo Domingo. I did not even leave a ‘goodbye
note’ for the Stuarts, and I haven't spoken to Vera, since
I left Miami.
“I’m not sure whether Emile’s threats with regards to Vera’s illicit drug-selling activities were carried out. In fact, I don’t really give a damn if he did. If that happened, it’s the price she deserves to pay for being so insanely stupid, greedy and stubborn.
“I don't know if I can ever forgive my only sister for how she manipulated me and almost forced me to foolishly wreck my life, when she fell for a drug dealing jerk in America”.
© 2007 | 
