The Program

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On a beautiful spring day in 1981, Maria Devine had packed her belongings in a cheap cardboard suitcase, taken her life-savings out of her mattress, and gone to visit her baby brother Renaldo at the madhouse in Havana where he was a ward of the state.

The madhouse was called Mazorra, and was filled with Cuba’s criminally insane, the majority of whom spent every waking hour locked up in their rooms, banging their heads against the walls and screaming at the top of their lungs. Mazorra was an evil place, and Maria could not come here without welling up with emotion.

But today was different. Today, she would not cry, nor would she leave by herself, tortured with guilt. Emancipation had come for her and her brother.

“I have wonderful news,” she’d announced upon entering his room.

Renaldo Devine had sat in a wooden chair in the corner, staring dully into space. His handsome face was marred by his hair, which stuck out at odd angles from his head. He wore a canvas straightjacket, his present for having bitten one of the nurses.

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