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In the weeks that followed Elian's rescue, Juan Miguel watched from a distance as his son was ushered into the American Dream. Congressmen like Dan Burton flew to Miami to meet him and report to the waiting media circus that they had discussed every Yankee virtue from the Federalist papers to 401(k)s. Elian went to Disney World, hugged Barney, celebrated his sixth birthday with the gift of a toy gun. He fell in love with chocolate milk; a Florida cousin who visits regularly told TIME that whenever Elian's cousin Marisleysis poured him a glass, she made a point of adding that "Fidel Castro won't let his grandmas make that for him in Cuba."
Though the family says it has done nothing to turn the child against his father, relatives did not hesitate to tell him about the horrors of his native country whenever they had the chance--which may help explain the fear Elian is said to express when asked about seeing his father and returning to Cuba. Says a Miami child psychiatrist, who was asked by the Miami family to evaluate Elian but declined because he "didn't want to get sucked into the politics" of the situation: "Of course he's afraid of being reunited with his father--because by now so much uncertainty has been planted in his head about all the relationships he had before that night the boat capsized."
In Cardenas, meanwhile, Juan Miguel was growing more distraught about his son's predicament. "His hair has been falling out, and he's had stomach problems since this whole thing started," says Fidel Ramirez, 32, Juan Miguel's best friend since school days. "He was extremely gregarious, but now he has turned bitter and quiet. When it dawned on him that his Miami relatives were keeping Elian up there, he came to me and said, 'Hermano, they took my son--they're hitting me where it hurts most.' He cried for three days."
It did not help when, in January, Juan Miguel saw the TV pictures of Elian, dressed in a crisp new school uniform, heading off to a private school run by a Cuban-American political leader. Cuban psychiatrists had advised the father to tell Elian during their regular phone calls that the boy was "on vacation" and that they would be reunited soon. But starting a new school put a lie to that promise, and the family seemed determined to drag the case through the courts. Juan Miguel pleaded with INS officials to speed up the process, and they complied--worried that with each passing day, it would be harder to ease Elian smoothly back into some semblance of "normal" life upon his return to Cuba.
Castro, of course, has some experience with re-education, and he had a plan for Elian. TIME has learned from high-level Cuban sources that he considered whisking the boy and his immediate family off to a beach spa, where psychiatrists, teachers and Cuban officials could help him "reassimilate"--purging Elian of Pokemon and turning him back into a Young Pioneer. But then Castro had an even better idea: Why not have Elian's "reinsertion" into Cuban society take place inside the U.S., namely by sending Juan Miguel--surrounded by Elian's teachers, classmates, psychiatrists and family members--to Washington to create a little slice of home? Havana even wanted to send his old desk from school, which has since become something of a shrine.