My Lost Cuba

by Celso Gonzalez-Falla

  As they drove home, Maria queried her daughter about Mike. Maria was not unhappy, for she knew Don Miguel’s family, but she wanted to be sure.

  The next Sunday was the annual President’s Cup rowing regatta. The crews had been training for four months, and during the training, the club’s boathouses had been transformed into convents of a sort: no smoking, no drinking, and no partying. The coaches were stricter than the mother superior of Poor Clare novices. The coaches told the rowers: no masturbation, no going out with putas. “There’ll be enough sex after the season. You can then pick and choose.” Every morning they toiled on the rowing machines and lifted weights. In the late afternoon they rowed escorted by the club’s motor launch. Four men and a coxswain waited for the moment of glory, their payoff after months of grueling training, hard work, and an unaccustomed ascetic life.

  The regatta was held in the morning, when the sea was as calm as a lake. Varadero Beach had been decked out as if it were a fairground. The official regatta boat flew nautical flags, and the judges, umpires, and representatives of the clubs looked grave—with their captains’ caps, blue blazers, white pants, gold braids in their caps, and the insignia of the club on their jacket pocket. The verandas surrounding the Club Náutico de Varadero’s old Victorian gingerbread clubhouse were full of members and guests. All types of boats, yachts, powerboats, sailboats, and skiffs sailed in front of the clubhouse, jockeying for anchoring positions with good sight lines. A small lonely motorboat of the Cuban navy policed the area, as if order could be imposed.

  Maria Alicia, Mike, Lourdes, Adelaida, and Jose Maria with their children had gone to Mass at the small brick church across from the clubhouse. At the Mass, the Club Nautico’s crew stood at attention in the center aisle, praying for victory.

  El Gordo’s boat, packed with friends, flew the burgee of the Habana Yacht Club. Rigoberto, in his best whites, stood on the foredeck, and El Gordo, to be close to his guests, sat at the controls in the main cabin. They anchored next to the finish line. Their penance for their efficiency and speed would be to wait under a hot sun until the race started.

  Vendors with flags and balloons of all colors walked the beach. The piruleros with their multicolored cone candies wrapped in brown paper moved with the grace of dancers in a conga line. Vendors sold hot peanuts in greasy brown paper sacks, while others sold tamales, con pica or sin pica. Some spectators rented floats and black inner tubes to watch the regatta while floating in the water. People had come from all over the region, from Cardenas, Matanzas, even from Havana. Young and old, they stood on the beach in front of the Club Nautico. The club members themselves observed the crowded beach from their shaded haven, drinks in hand.

  Adelaida and Jose Maria herded their children among the crowd in front of the club. The kids were attracted to the birds and small figurines made of seashells, the pennants, and straw hats for sale. At every turn, Lalin tried to convince her mother to buy her the latest shell figurine she had fallen in love with until Adelaida felt the only word she had said for hours was “no.” Eventually, she located a suitable spot, spread the beach towels, and sat on the sand, enjoying a few minutes of peace in the midst of the bedlam, surrounded by a sea of strangers.

  The race had three false starts. When it finally started, the Club Nautico scull pulled out in front with a spurt of power, but by the midpoint the scull of the Habana Yacht Club started to catch up. As the boats were nearing the finish line, the crowd became excited and loud, muffling the rhythmic sound of the oars hitting the water. Club Nautico won by at least two lengths, followed by the Biltmore and the Yacht Club sculls. The celebratory mood of the crowd swelled, and the Club Nautico’s fans ran to the their crew and surrounded them as the other crews took off their shirts and gave them to the winners’ crew, who strung them around their necks, like trophies won in an Aztec battle. President Batista presented the silver cup to the commodore of the Club Náutico de Varadero.

  The friends on El Gordo’s boat had a great time. There were enough members from the favored clubs, and a full-scale celebration started in the middle of the race. Even so, Maria Alicia noticed a change in Mike’s demeanor. He was pleasant to her but appeared worried.

  That night Jose Maria, Adelaida, and Mike went to Maria Alicia’s house on the way to the hotel nightclub. A tired Rigoberto opened the door and announced their arrival. Maria made Mike promise her that he was going to take good care of her daughter, since the family would be breakfasting early at a friend’s house in DuPont. Maria Alicia showed up wearing Mike’s favorite outfit, the white linen dress that accentuated her tan and the beauty of her black hair.

  The nightclub at the hotel was jammed. Every few minutes a new table was brought in for a heavy-tipping patron, adding to the congestion on the dance floor, but no one cared. It was the place to be seen, to flaunt the fact that you had enough money, contacts, or influence to sit near the dance floor on the biggest night of the summer season at Varadero. Mike and Maria Alicia tried to dance, but they could hardly move. The air-conditioner was overwhelmed because of the packed room, and the heat became oppressive, so they moved to a table near the pool bar where they could talk.

  Maria Alicia clasped Mike’s hand. “What’s worrying you? You’re not here tonight. Your mind seems very far away.”

  Mike hesitated. “I had a call from Ricardo, our new mayoral. I’m having personnel problems. Manuel, one of our best employees, is playing power games in my absence. I haven’t talked to my father yet, but I should leave tomorrow.”

  Maria Alicia was silent for a moment. “Is that all? What else worries you?”

  Mike got up and lit a cigarette. “Yes, I’m worried. I hate to leave you. I’ve only been with you a short time, but I feel that I’ve known you forever, and I want us to be together all the time.” He flicked his fingers, scratching the surface of their small table. “Worst of all, I know that I can’t offer you everything you’d like in your life.”

  Maria Alicia pulled back sharply. “Mike, please . . . that’s not true. I’ll miss you, too, but how do you know what I want? Do you know how I feel about you? Don’t you sense it? I love to be with you. I love to hear your stories, and I like it when you touch me. But I’m worried, too. What happens to you when we’re together and you become silent and unreachable?”

  He looked up, startled. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “I’m sorry, sometimes I’m moody. I like to think, to meditate—”

  “But how do you think I feel when you go into your shell, even if you’re sitting next to me?”

  “I don’t know,” he said quietly.

  “You don’t ask. Have you asked me if I love you? Have you asked if I want to be with you? You have to know that I’ll miss you, too.”

  Encouraged, Mike moved close to her. “I’m sorry . . . I don’t express myself well.”

  “Bobo, you know I love you. Maybe I should have said more. I don’t want you to go.” She picked up both his hands and held them.

  “I just want to give you the best of everything. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she replied in a low clear voice.

  Now that they had declared themselves, they walked to the beach. The sand was packed and hard, and Maria Alicia held her shoes in her hand. They stopped several times to look longingly at each other. They could hear the band playing romantic music, boleros, and old songs. Finally, after half an hour of walking, they joined their group at the cabaret. Adelaida saw Maria Alicia’s tender face and understood immediately that something had changed. Adelaida asked them if they wanted to leave at once and forget about the breakfast party. It did not take much persuasion in the packed room to get people to agree to go.

  At Maria Alicia’s house, the lovers sat near the pool and Mike said, “I never thought I was going to say this. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m in love with you. I want to marry you.”

  Maria Alicia looked into his eyes. “I love you, too,” she said, and kissed him slowly and softly.

  Mik
e was elated and relieved “I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to say it, but I was afraid. I’m still afraid that you won’t want to share my life at the farm.”

  “But I’ll be with you,” Maria Alicia said.

  “I don’t want you to sacrifice your dreams for me. I love you and I’ll always love you.”

  They reached out and fell into each other’s arms. Mike continued, “The only thing that’s important to me is your happiness. If I sound like an idiot, forgive me. Sometimes I can’t express myself well. I only know that I love you.” He picked up her hand again, and held it as if he would never let it go.

  They embraced for a long while, merging as one, until finally Maria Alicia pulled away. “You have a long drive ahead of you. Be careful. I’ll be waiting for you. Come back as soon as you can. I need you now more than ever.” They slowly walked through the garden and kissed one more time before saying good night.

  Early the next morning, activities started at the beach house. The children had their breakfast while Adelaida and Lourdes, still in their robes, supervised the maids, who brought out cereals, fruits, and milk. Don Miguel appeared, kissed the grandchildren and his daughters, and got a cup of coffee. Mike came from his room, dressed and ready to leave. Lourdes and Adelaida wanted to know more about Maria Alicia, but before they had a chance, Mike asked his father for a few moments alone.

  “Dad, I spoke with Ricardo yesterday. He called me. I’m going back to the farm.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Ricardo is having problems with Manuel. He wants to spend more money than we’ve budgeted. Hire more help, prepare more animals for the shows.”

  His father lit his first cigar. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “No, I can handle it.”

  Don Miguel assented. “You’re running the farm. Be careful with Manuel, though. You can’t fire him for what he’s trying to do. He’s a good man, but jealous of Ricardo and you. He’s valuable to us.” Don Miguel waved the tip of his cigar to cement his point. “Ricardo is right, but don’t get in the middle of their quarrel. You have to be above it.”

  Mike agreed, and then softened his tone. “I have something else to tell you. I proposed to Maria Alicia, and she accepted.”

  His father reared back in surprise. “Have you thought it over carefully? Both of you are very young. Give it time.”

  “Yes, I’ve thought about it. I love her.”

  Don Miguel couldn’t have been happier. He embraced Mike warmly. “She’s the right girl. I’ve known her family for years.”

  “I haven’t formally asked her parents, but I’ll do so when I come back. Please don’t tell the girls until I talk to them.”

  “El Gordo is a great friend of mine. At one time, when we were young, we were very close. Maria was a good friend of your mother.” Don Miguel was beaming. “I love Maria Alicia. But you better talk to them now.”

  Mike realized that it would be impossible to keep the secret for so long. “Thanks, Father. I’ll do that.”

  — 20 —

  Manuel

  MIKE DROVE SLOWLY, stopping often to refuel with coffee, and arrived at the batey at six o’clock that evening. Mitzi trotted out to greet him, followed by Ricardo, Cuca, and Paulino. Paulino said, “Welcome to paradise! It’s nice of you to remember that we, poor peons, still exist in the middle of this great republic.” He eyed Mike’s deep tan. “Did you get tired of sunning yourself? I knew you had taste, but I never thought you’d go to such extremes to be like me. Your color is almost as dark as Fernando’s!” He lowered his voice, and with a firm handshake added, “Welcome back. I know you had to return.”

  “I was about ready to come back.” Mike shrugged, hiding the real reason. “It’s good to see you all again! How’s your love life? Are you still visiting the plantation?”

  “Yes, but not every night. I have to work, you know. Cuca likes to keep me busy,” said Paulino with a laugh.

  Mike turned to her. “I’ll have a small dinner, because I’m not too hungry. When you plan to have it ready, call me, but I’m in no hurry. I’ll be in the office.”

  As the group walked toward the house, Mike sidled up next to Ricardo. “Thanks for calling me. You did the right thing. I talked to Father. He’s in agreement, but he wants to be sure that Manuel understands. Where is he? At the Gomez plantation?”

  Mike and Ricardo left for the office, while Paulino took the small amount of luggage that Mike had brought.

  “Ricardo, what do you think Manuel is thinking? Has anybody he’s hired worked for more than thirty days?”

  “I don’t know. I think he may want to test you to find how much you’ll let him do without your direct approval. He’s not talking too much to me. I believe he resents that I’m above him and you give me instructions, and I’m the one who talks to you instead of him.”

  They settled on a good time for Mike to speak with Manuel to resolve the issue. Before they parted, Ricardo said, “Oh, and Mike, I saw Rita at the telephone office. You need to talk to her. She’s not a happy girl.” Mike nodded, but that was not a topic he wanted to discuss any further.

  Mike planned to call his father after gathering more information from other employees. He had to confirm without a doubt that Ricardo’s version of events was true. He drove the jeep to the back pastures to see Martinito, met with Arturo, and visited Alfred, who asked for permission to poison the wild dogs that were killing his sheep.

  That evening, before the employees sat down for their dinner, Mike called Manuel to his office. He did not want Ricardo to be present at the meeting, as he would tell Ricardo later. Manuel came all dressed up, since he was going to go to the Gomez plantation after dinner, and sat across the desk from Mike.

  “Mike, Ricardo told me you wanted to talk to me tonight. Did you have a good trip? How is your father feeling? Is he better?”

  “Yes, he is doing very well. We were all together at Varadero beach,” Mike said, smiling. “Listen, I need to talk to you. It’s important to have a clear line of communication. I won’t be able to be here all the time. I have to spend time in Havana, and other places, and I want you to understand that when I’m not here, Ricardo is in charge. I gave him strict orders not to hire any more personnel.” Manuel’s face had turned sullen, but Mike pressed on. “I know you talked with him, and he told you so, but after that talk, you hired two more people to help you at the show barn. I want them to be fired tomorrow.” Manuel looked shocked, but Mike was in no mood for arguments. “Also, I’ll decide, with your recommendation, what animals we bring to be part of the show string. I have to be able to control our costs. I don’t want to spend more money on the show string. We have enough show animals. If we sell one, we can replace it.” Mike was not done, however. “Manuel, you have to talk to me about these things. If something is bothering you, you can write me a letter or, better yet, call me long-distance. I’ll answer you. Do you understand?”

  Manuel was surprised at the severity of Mike’s tone. He had in his mind an image of a little boy that liked to ride ponies, not this young man who sat across him and gave orders. His first reaction was of anger. Manuel thought, “Who does this pip-squeak think he is?” He did not care for Ricardo as a mayoral. He should have been given that position. Then he realized that it was not worth a fight. Manuel glanced at the floor and said, “Yes, sir. I’ll talk to you in the morning. I’m happy that your father is feeling better. When is your father coming back? When you talk to him, give him my regards.” He quickly left the room, and Mike let him go without saying a word, as there never was a nice way to reprimand an older man. The painful task was over.

  Mike knew he also had to see Rita, and he knew what to say. He did not want to wait. He went to the kitchen and told Cuca, “I have to run an errand in the pueblo. I’m not too hungry. Leave food in the fridge.” He drove to Rita’s house, and as he drove through the streets he heard the familiar theme song of a soap opera that had a fanatical following, The Right to Be Born by the Cu
ban novelist Felix B. Caignet.

  When he knocked, Rita’s mother opened the door greeting him with a big smile. “Mike! How nice to see you. You’ve been like a lost soul. I saw your picture several times in the rotogravure of the El Diario de la Marina. You’re having a great time. Did you come to see Rita?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m so sorry, you should have called. It would have saved you the trip. She’s out tonight. Do you remember that nice young man Facundo Martinez y Garcia? They just made him the new assistant manager at the Royal Bank of Nova Scotia. He’s such a good, honest, hardworking man.”

  Mike was elated to hear this news. “Yes, I bank with him.”

  “Well, don’t just stand there. Come in! Rita will be so disappointed that she missed you!”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Mike said. “Well, I—”

  “She’ll be back tomorrow,” her mother continued. “She went with Facundito to Camagüey. He is going to meet the bank’s manager from Havana. They have some sort of bank meeting, followed by a dinner at the Gran Hotel. She has to be in early tomorrow morning to work at that telephone exchange.” She pursed her lips. “They really abuse her, the hours!”

  “Yes, she always has the tougher shifts. Well, tell her I—”

  “Please, Mike, the program has just started. Do you want to watch it? The grandfather is very sick. He can hardly talk. You see, he had a stroke, and he has something very important to say to his granddaughter. It’s about the young doctor she’s dating. Come, come, and sit with me.”

  Mike, half dazed, felt as if he had fallen into a whirlpool. He hesitated, and then entered the living room and sat on the sofa. For thirty long minutes, he watched the soap with Rita’s mother, and with each passing moment, he became more upset. How did he allow himself to be caught up in such a tawdry affair? Yet he could not excuse himself until after the last commercial. Finally, Mike rose to his feet. “I’m sorry. I can’t stay any longer. I have to be home for supper.”