I remembered what Reyes had said: You know why you chase that boy? Because you’ll never have him. That’s his attraction. While you’re running after him, you’re in control. He was right. I didn’t want Angel; all this time I just couldn’t stand the thought of someone else having him. It was all about my pride in the end.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you that bad,” I said, and I stood up and went back to the party. I looked back just once. Angel cupped his balls in both hands, leaned to the side and retched.
I didn’t even feel sorry for him anymore.
When I got back to the reception I couldn’t see Papi. Finally I found him sitting on his own in a corner. He looked pale. “Are you all right, Papi? You’re sweating.”
“You keep disappearing, cariña.”
“There was a queue in the bathrooms. Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
Now Ramon appeared and he looked worried, too. “I looked everywhere for you,” he said to me. “Your father’s ill, I think.
“Can you drive?”
“Sure I can drive.”
“Go and see the busboys out the front, get them to bring the Bel Air around. I’ll meet you there.”
I helped Papi to his feet. People stared at us, they thought he was drunk. A couple of his friends asked us if I needed help but I said no. I just wanted to get him out of there with as little fuss as possible.
I walked him past the shops and the casino to the foyer. As we waited for the car I felt his weight on my shoulder. It was the first time he had ever leaned on me. It scared me, he had always seemed so indomitable before.
“Where is that boy with our car?” he said.
His face was white and I thought he was going to collapse. Finally the valet drove up with the Bel Air. Ramon helped me get Papi into the back seat then jumped behind the wheel.
“Sorry I spoiled your night,” Papi said.
“Just let’s get you home,” I said.
When we got to Vedado, Ramon helped me get him into the house and up to his bedroom. Maria shooed us both out and put him to bed. Ramon wanted to stay and help but I thanked him and told him there was nothing more he could do. It was an abysmal end to a horrible day.
Chapter 30
A little while after Doctor Mendes left I heard Papi arguing with Maria in the bedroom.
“The doctor said you were to stay in bed,” Maria said.
“The doctor would like everyone to stay in bed, then he can charge them another fee to tell them to get out of it. I don’t need a man old enough to be my grandfather to tell me when I can and when I can’t get up. Now get me a bottle of Santiago and my cigar box. Who’s running this house?”
A little while later I found him sitting on the patio in his pyjamas, smoking one of his favourite Cohiba cigars. He fumbled inside the pyjama pocket for a small medicine bottle, shook out a tiny pink pill and swallowed it down with a mouthful of rum. Probably not exactly how Mendes had prescribed it.
I kissed him on the forehead and sat down.
“Don’t start lecturing me,” he said.
“No, Papi.”
I think he was surprised by my sudden obedience. He tapped on the edge of his glass with his fingernail. “Thank you for getting me home. I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.
“Same for me.”
He reached down to pet Rafa, an old habit, then remembered he wasn’t there anymore.
“I spoke to Angel.”
“To congratulate him on his wedding and offer him your sincere good wishes for his future happiness and good health?”
“Of course. They were my exact words.”
“Good.”
“He seems to think we’re moving to Miami.”
“I’ve spoken to a few people about selling this house.”
“Why, Papi? You said you’d never leave Cuba.”
“It’s all over here, cariña. These people don’t just want the casinos, they want to run the whole damned country. Whoever wins this war, Cuba’s finished.”
“Are you going to talk to Lansky?”
He nodded. “I have to. You can’t win against these people. They’re barbarians.”
I had never seen him look so old. He poured himself another glass of rum.
“Do you think it was Lansky who bombed the Left Bank?”
“Who knows? Maybe.” His cigar had gone out. He relit it. “I saw you talking to Señor Reyes tonight.”
“I wanted to thank him again for what he did to help me.”
“It’s unlike Señor Reyes to do anything for anyone and not want a percentage.” He watched me and I knew what he was thinking.
“He’s not like that with me,” I said.
“You can’t trust a man like that. Promise me you won’t see him again.”
“I promise,” I said, all too easily. I remembered what Papi said about being like my mother. I would always do what I wanted, no matter what promises I had made, and then find a way to justify it later. I liked to think it was my strongest quality.
It was also my worst.
Chapter 31
Los Nortes, the north winds, brought big surf down from the Gulf and sent it foaming high over the sea wall. Despite the blockade Havana started to prepare for the Christmas season. The El Encanto department store advertised “Nordic pines just unloaded from freezing ships” for 85 cents a foot; children’s train sets filled the shop windows, selling “at Miami prices.” Santa Clauses rang bells and collected small change for the U.S. Salvation Army. The weather obligingly turned a little cooler.
I took a taxi to the hospital. The only vehicles in the street now were blue and white police cars and the olive-green Oldsmobiles of the SIM. You could feel the tension in the air. It wasn’t panic, not yet. It felt like there was a storm coming, everyone was tense, knowing the change was coming and wondering just how bad it was going to be.
Inocencia sat in a wheelchair in the garden, a blanket over her legs, or what was left of them. She smiled when saw me. She looked forward to my visits, she said.
I went to see her whenever I could, and sometimes we talked about what she would do when she left the hospital. She said she would become a full-time music teacher. It would not pay as well as being a bolerista but at least she wouldn’t have to beg on the street.
“And Reyes would never let that happen anyway,” she said. “You know he pays all my medical bills?”
I said I didn’t know but it didn’t surprise me. I wasn’t surprised by anything he did.
“How long have you known him?” I asked her.
“It seems like forever, he’s been in and out of my life so many times. I always knew he never loved me in that way...you know how I mean. People say he’s a bad man but he’s never been a bad man to me, he just never loved me like I wanted him to.”
“He says to me that he can’t stay away from me, that we’re fated to be together, but then he goes away and I don’t see him for weeks. It’s all just a line, isn’t it?”
She shrugged. For the moment I couldn’t read the look on her face.
“Isn’t it?”
“I never knew him to be dishonest, not with me, not with any woman. So if he tells you he loves you then you’d best believe him because I would have done anything to make him say that to me.”
Suddenly I knew what that look was: she was jealous of me.
“If he can’t get what he wants without saying something he doesn’t mean, then he won’t take it. He has too much pride. That much I do know about him.”
“But he could have any woman.”
“It’s a funny thing, sometimes you meet someone, and no matter how wrong it is, no matter how hard you fight it, you cannot get this person out from under your skin. It was like that for me with him. And I do believe it is like that for him with you.”
“But why?”
“Who knows why? It’s something you don’t ever find out till much further down the road, when they either break your heart or save
your soul. But there’s always a reason, depends whether you have the courage to hold on and find out what it is.”
This wasn’t what I had expected to hear her say.
“He doesn’t love me,” I said.
“You sure about that now?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not sure about anything anymore.”
She closed her eyes and smiled. “Reyes liked to listen to me sing. He said I had the voice of an angel in heat.” She laughed. “What a thing to say to a woman! But much as I loved him, I could not get in time with him. When we danced I kept stepping on his toes and he stepped on mine. Now he can’t do that anymore, I should be grateful.”
I put a hand on hers by way of comfort, even though I supposed nothing was any comfort at all.
“I saw the way he looked at you that night at the Left Bank. He never once looked at me like that.”
But I just couldn’t let myself believe he loved me, whatever love was. I thought he just wanted to sleep with me, and a girl like me could not and did not have affairs. I had used up all my chances with Angel.
Besides, love was something I felt for Angel; it would have made sense, and even if, in the end, our families had other plans for us, it wasn’t...outrageous. But being with Reyes was utterly impossible.
“You remember what I taught you, Magdalena?”
“You said that when I played music, I should play it through my heart, not my head. I should just close my eyes and live it.”
“You never know when it’s going to be all over, girl. Play it like you mean it, or you’ll be sorry one day.”
Chapter 32
Papi tossed the newspaper aside, washed his pills down with half a glass of rum. The Diario del Marina claimed huge rebel losses in the Sierra Maestra. Meanwhile Radio Rebelde said the crack Jose Martí battalion were closing in on Havana.
Who did you believe?
He reached for the box of cigars and then pushed them away again. He had cut down from two cigars a day to just one. It was all part of his new healthy lifestyle, he said.
“I’m seeing Lansky this afternoon,” he said. “I’m going to offer to sell him the Left Bank.”
“I’ll come with you,” I said.
Day by day the aristocratic quarter crumbled into the remorseless sea; an ancient coat of arms, once set over the doorway of a noble house, was now weathered by centuries and half-hidden by the neon sign of some shabby hotel; the shutters on the faded mansions in the Viejo Ciudad slowly rotted from sun and salt. Steel skyscrapers now rose over the colonial haciendas, signalling the brief zenith of the latest conquistadore.
The old Havana would soon be gone, lost either to the gangsterismos or the rebelde. It was the cycle of things here. The weak were soon swallowed up. After all the original Cubans, the Taíno, had all disappeared within a century of Columbus’s arrival.
Papi did not go straight to his appointment. He drove down the Rampa then around the old city towards the Malecón. This time of year the weather was mild, the skies a pale blue. Seabirds bobbed on the pewter swell. There was a familiar song playing on the radio: “It’s all in the game.”
He reached for the pills in his pocket, unscrewed the cap on the bottle and tipped one into his palm. He swallowed it, one hand on the steering wheel.
“Are you all right, Papi?”
“Am I doing the right thing, cariña?”
“Papi, you love Havana. You can’t leave.”
He patted her knee and smiled. “I love that you say that, even though you don’t mean it.”
Tourists headed to the docks to take the ferry to the old fortress or for sundowners at Los Marinos. You wouldn’t have known there was a war just beyond the hills.
He stopped in the Plaza des Armas, delaying the moment. He looked around the plaza, at the old whitewashed buildings. “You know, princess, back in the nineteenth century, when the rest of the Spanish empire in Latin American rebelled and wanted to form their own independent states, Cuba remained loyal. The Crown gave the island its motto, La Siempre Fidelísima Isla, “the island that is always faithful.” Do you know why we never rebelled? Because we were more afraid of the United States than anyone else.”
I remembered what Papi had told me, about the plot to kill the president. It was no longer enough that they bribed governments for influence, now Lansky and Salvatore and those other faceless men from Miami and Las Vegas were deciding the fates of entire countries. Killing presidents was no more trouble than ordering a hit on a rival gang boss.
“You don’t have to do this, Papi,” I said.
“No, cariña, I do.”
He took a deep breath and put the Bel Air into gear. We headed along the Malecón to the Nacional Hotel.
The long driveway of the Nacional Hotel was flanked by tall, waving palms. The lobby was quiet at this time of the day, the casino and the club only really got going after midnight. When we walked in there were just a few tourists sitting around writing postcards or reading paperbacks.
Lansky was in one of the cabanas by the swimming pool. He did all his business there, they said, eating sandwiches, playing cards with his cronies. But even poolside, he was immaculate in well-pressed Bermuda shorts and a white open-necked shirt. Two large men in dark suits hovered nearby. They clearly weren’t lifeguards.
Lansky welcomed them effusively, an expansive host. He asked them if they wanted sandwiches. Papi shook his head no, looking ill at ease. He fidgeted with his Panama as they made small talk. Finally he got to the point.
“I’ve come here to talk to you about the Left Bank.”
“How’s business?”
“A little slow.”
“After something like that, people are wary. They’ll come back. You did a nice job, by the way. Must have cost.”
“Yes, it did.”
“So, what’s your point here?”
“A few months ago, you were interested in a concession.”
“That’s right. I offered you twenty points, I believe. I amended the offer after the bombing. I spoke to your charming daughter here about it while you were in the hospital.”
“I’d like to revisit that offer. In fact, I’d like to offer you the whole thing.”
“You’re selling the Left Bank?”
“I’m aiming to retire.”
“Really? But you’re still very young, Señor Fuentes.”
“Health reasons.”
Lansky nodded his head and considered. He offered Papi a cigar from a large box of Monte Cristos. Papi shook his head. Meyer chose one and one of his lifeguards stepped forward with a lighter. I supposed this cheap display was for my father’s benefit.
“You know, I’d like to help you out, Señor Fuentes. But I think you’ve maybe left things a little late. Things have changed since I made that very generous offer. I have a considerable investment in Havana, as you know, and while I remain confident in the city’s future, I have to be a little more cautious these days.”
“Don’t you want to hear my price?”
“Frankly, no. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a very appealing venue. But I think you’ll find that most investors will feel the same way I do. The political situation in Cuba needs to stabilize before I am willing to make any further commitments here.”
Papi turned white. I could see him battling to control his expression. He smiled as genially as he could and thanked Lansky for his time. They stood up and shook hands. I could see the vicious satisfaction on Lansky’s face. We had spurned him twice, now he had settled the score and in the most genteel manner.
Papi was silent on the way home, he didn’t say anything until we got back to our villa in Vedado. He parked the Bel Air in the shade of the ceiba tree and then he just sat there, staring into space.
“Funny,” he said, finally. “I always thought we could leave any time we wanted. But what if we can’t? How do we leave Cuba if we don’t have any money? Everything I have is tied up in the club and the house. If we can’t sell, what are we going
to do?”
“Then we’ll stay.”
“If Lansky isn’t willing to bet on Havana’s future anymore, we should all be worried. Those guys must know something we don’t.”
“He’s just angry because we turned down his offer before. Someone else will buy the club.”
He shook his head. “I should have done this months ago when I came back from Miami. I was selfish and blind.”
This was my fault. I should have listened to Reyes, he had warned me this would happen. As usual, it looked like he was right.
I squeezed Papi’s hand. “Don’t worry,” I said, “everything will be all right.”
He gave me a big smile, fake as an eight dollar bill. “Sure it will, cariña, sure it will. I’ll figure something out.”
Chapter 33
“I need to see him, Papi.”
“What for?”
“I just do.”
“What did I tell you about that man? I told you to stay away from him, right?”
“Please, it’s important.”
“No. I forbid it! I have been as tolerant of you as any father alive but now I put my foot down. No!”
“He saved my life, have you forgotten?”
He stopped, stared at me. His eyes were bleak. “Why? Why did he do that?”
“Do you wish he hadn’t?”
Maria came out of the kitchen, took one look at the two of us and fled.
“What possible business do you have with that man?”
“I have message for him, from Inocencia.”
“Well tell me the message then and I’ll take it to him.”
“It’s personal.” Another lie. How easily they came to me these days.
“No.”
“Papi, I must see him!”
He got up from behind his desk and I stepped back. He had never struck me in his life, but I was afraid he might now. Instead he went to the French doors, threw them open and shouted for Maria. She peered around the corner of the kitchen on the other side of the patio. “Señor?”
Naked In Havana (Naked Series Book 1) Page 14