by John Molloy
The following day crept up on Henry unnoticed and unannounced - it was Christmas Day. How he loved Christmas and all the wonderful family get-togethers with presents and decorations and even strangers wishing one another a happy Christmas, it was probably his favorite time of year. The saloon that morning was bedecked with a few tawdry and tarnished decorations - the only thing to remind one this was a special day. The same somber atmosphere hung in the air at the breakfast table. The captain wished everyone a very happy Christmas and invited those officers who were not watch keeping to join him at noon in the officer’s smoke room for Christmas drinks. The crew got a ration of rum and beer but there was no sound of merriment along any of the alleyways. A few were in the recreation room, playing cards and darts, but most men spent the day wandering around the deck or lying in their bunks. Henry spent his off duty on his bunk, studying his atlas, making mental notes of the places the ship had visited and the terrible happenings she’d left in her wake. It was only after they had finished the evening dinner that the chief steward called them into his cabin and offered them a drink. Henry enjoyed a generous glass of gin with ice and fresh lime; he then gave them half a dozen beers to take with them. Their cabin was hot and stuffy so Henry and Gary went on deck. They were both feeling a little merry after the drinks. Gary pulled out a packet of cigarettes and they sat on the hatch smoking; facing west into the setting sun as it dropped like a fiery ball into a crimson and purple horizon. Suddenly Tukola appeared before them like an ogre, standing bare chested, his legs splayed, his closed swollen eye gave him a hideous malevolent look; his face powerful but misshapen and tormented. He looked both pathetic and at the same time, brutal. A smirk played on his lips as he attempted to smile; it did nothing to mask the black void that was his soul. He pulled a drag on a cigarette, letting the smoke drift slowly from his mouth and then threw the lighted cigarette hitting Gary on the foot. Henry noticed he had his hand on the knife handle on his belt. Gary stood close to Henry who stood up and faced him. Henry pulled his knife first and took a step closer to him; he was now just outside arm’s length away. Tukola now had his knife in hand, hanging by his side, but his face betrayed his hesitancy as he blinked his eye and shifted his feet.
Henry knew that these signs indicated he was backing down, but he was still dangerous.
“If you intend using that knife come on.”
Henry raised his knife to challenge him.
Tukola stood staring; his jaw muscles moving as he ground his teeth.
“You’re not too brave against a man now are you?”
Gary moved a little towards him.
“We’re not young helpless girls like that black kid in Africa you intended killing, only I came on the scene.”
He scowled like a dog.
“What you talk about a black girl, I never hurt her.”
Henry unsuccessfully tried to control his rage, stepping forward ready to strike with the first excuse.
“You killed young girls, you animal!” The words came spitting with hatred.
Tukola knew it was probably Henry who took the box from his cabin, and now he knew everything.
He turned to walk away and spat with venom.
“The streets of Havana are dark and dangerous, you watch your back.”
Gary stood trembling and waited until Tukola was out of earshot.
“Jesus Henry, I thought we’d had it! I would never have believed he’d back down. Would you have used that knife if it came to it?”
“What do you think? That I’d let him stab the two of us? No Gary, I’d have used it without hesitation.”
“I’m sure you would have, Henry.”
So, he was the one you saw roughing up the black girl in the West African port?”
“He wasn’t just roughing her up; she was cut all down her arm where she tried to fend him off. Another minute and she would have been dead meat. Do you believe that he killed the two girls; the boat girl and Miss Pippa?”
“Yes Gary, I would, and a lot more we don’t know about. We better watch our backs now. Not only on board ship, but also if we get to go ashore in Havana.”
Chapter Thirty
The ship anchored in Havana harbor on the evening of December 30th. 1958, the radio news had said that the city of Santa Clara had fallen to the rebels and they were pushing towards Havana. The ship’s agent came on board and assured them that a berth would be ready next day as a Liberian liberty ship with a full cargo of sugar was ready to sail. There was no mail, he said, but a sub would be available. There was no talk of shore leave being restricted.
The captain decided not to go ashore so late in the evening. Although he had pressing business, he gave a sealed letter to the ship’s agent and asked him to deliver it as soon as possible and to wait for a reply. The letter was to the only person he hoped would help him in his present crisis; the British Ambassador to Cuba, Alfred Stanley Fordham. By coincidence, Henry sat in his cabin writing a letter to the same person; in it he explained his position and asked if there were any British agents who might help. He hadn’t much expectations of assistance because earlier, while on deck, he could see fishing boats departing the harbor loaded with fleeing top brass government officials, high ranking police and army personnel - the exodus had started. He presumed the airport was jammed with flights out and back from the U.S.A. as thousands of Batista sympathizers feared the reprisals of the Castro rebels. He finished the letter sealed the envelope but did not address it. Now he pondered how he could have it delivered. He had all the information, the ambassador’s name, address and so forth and a hand drawn map he had received from Danny. He guessed he wouldn’t have too much time ashore and the embassy was in a part of the city called Miramar, a good distance from the docks. A sub list came around and he subbed substantially more money than he would normally need for his own entertainment; he’d heard Havana referred to as a city of bribes and tips.
They went alongside at eleven hundred hours next day, everything they could see from on board the ship looked as normal as any port, the hatches were opened and loading began. The Cuban men working the ship were remarkably quiet and subdued they hardly spoke when asked about the state of things ashore, proclaiming their lack of English for not conversing. “No speak English.”
The fishing boats were plying their trade outward bound loaded with people crowded on their decks, and returning empty. After lunch Henry walked around the deck taking in the sights and the sweet scent of the sugar seemed to hang on the air. Such a beautiful place even from what he’d seen from the ship, the proud old Spanish colonial buildings silent patient sentinels under the glaring hot sun. There would be no afternoon shore leave and the sub wouldn’t be up until after dinner, so it would be an evening stint ashore.
Dinner that evening was abuzz with conversation, young officers and engineers looking forward to a bit of shore leave. The sight of a skirt and a pint of cool beer in a pub would surely be the nub of beer drinkers. The gangway was being rattled with spruced up crewmen from eighteen hundred onwards; as soon as they had their money in hand. Gary came in from showering, whistling, it was the first time Henry had seen him in such a carefree mood. He threw off the towel and started to dress.
“Would you hurry up a bit if you’re coming ashore, you don’t seem to be too keen to hit the tiles. I hear from the second cook who’s been here before that the women are second to none, pure delicious coffee colored sex fiends.”
Henry was standing naked, he pulled a towel around his middle and walking out the door he spoke over his shoulder. “I hope you’re right about the women. You go ahead and I’ll catch up. I’ll meet you in the nearest watering hole. You be careful of Tukola, don’t go into a pub if he’s there, avoid him at all costs.”
Gary stood admiring himself in the mirror, bared his gums to examine his straight white teeth.
“You can be sure I’ll avoid him and the second cook will be on guard too.”
Henry looked at the soap in his hand, he spoke shar
ply.
“Right; I’ll see you up town.”
He was the only one in the washroom, all hands were gone. He let the shower curtain open while he showered and had the towel handy with his knife wrapped in it. He didn’t want Gary with him tonight. Instead, he wanted to follow Tukola if it was at all possible, but if he was noticed it could result in a confrontation.
It was easy dress in this climate so he chose a light blue shirt and gray slacks, he shook out the last of the after shave; there’d be no more old spice this trip. His hair had grown, it was thick and filled the comb, the sun had bleached it light blonde and it reached down the back of his neck to the collar of his shirt. He looked in the mirror made a little face and spoke to his image. “You’ll do.”
He tucked his knife into his belt and made a promise if this trip went on much longer he would get a proper knife with a scabbard before he castrated himself! It was nineteen thirty hours when he went out on deck. He had his letter to the ambassador tucked safely into his back pocket. He stood around and waited to see if there were more men going ashore; he thought he might see Tukola and tail him if he was on his own. Ten minutes went by and he decided all that were going ashore were gone. He set off and the first street he came to was San Pedro. It was quiet; he met very few people until he came to an open space, the Plaza de San Francisco de Asis. The sun was setting and the square was filled with a red tinted hue of sun rays, the water flowing in the beautiful lion fountain splashed and sparkled like rose wine. He sat and admired the magnificent Cathedral with baroque style architecture shaded in the crimson light. The peace and beauty belied any suggestion that the country was in the midst of a revolution.
She seemed to appear out of the sun rays that filtered through the streets and over rooftops. She stood smiling, her white teeth and full red lips begged for the master’s oils to capture the deep brown eyes, perfect Moorish nose, high cheek bones and long elegant neck. Her hair was shining dark auburn with highlights of wheaten blonde and touched her slight shoulders. Her full rounded, pert breasts pushed a scarlet blouse to its extreme, and a slim waistline covered with a short light cotton cream skirt, blossomed onto full rounded buttocks. Henry stared for a moment which seemed an age, then stood and asked her would she like to sit with him.
“Thank you. I would like very much speak you.”
He gave her an outstretched hand.
“I’m Henry.”
She gripped his hand and held it, looking into his eyes.
“I’m Alicia.”
“I’m pleased to meet you Alicia.”
“You too Henry. You from ship?”
“Yes, I’m from the ship, we arrived yesterday and are loading sugar. The ship’s name is the Rangoon.”
“You stay maybe two weeks to take all sugar for ship?”
“Yes, we stay maybe two weeks.”
A group of five youths ran across the square, they were wielding short sticks and were waving some kind of cloth above their heads.
“You know plenty trouble in Cuba now. All police gone, all army people gone. People break shop windows and steal.”
“Are we safe to stay around here?”
“Yes, they will not harm us people, only steal from shops and houses of very rich people. All rich Americans go back to their home, they are afraid of Castro when he come with his army.”
“What will happen when Castro takes over the country?”
“We will have plenty jobs and plenty money, the same as America, nice houses and plenty to eat.”
“So are many people poor here now? Are there few jobs?”
“Yes, we are very poor and not many nice houses. I live with my mother and in a small part of a big house. My father go many years now to America. He say we can come to him but we never hear again. I work, sometime clean hotel, serve people at dinner, but not all time get work so sometimes I have no money. My mother work in market some days and get food and not much money.”
“How old are you Alicia? I love your name by the way.”
“Thank you Henry, I am nineteen years old.”
“You are a very beautiful girl and should be a model or in films.”
She laughed a full and hearty laugh, throwing back her head and then shaking her silk hair into place.
“You know Henry, I always wanted to be in films like Ava Gardiner, and Marilyn Munroe. It’s a dream, I think all peoples have dreams, and sometimes they come true.”
“Yes, all people have dreams, but not all come true. There is a song: You can wish upon a star, makes no difference where you are, your dreams come true.”
“It sounds a beautiful song.”
“Yes for a beautiful girl. Would you like to come for a drink?”
“Yes, I not drink much but I come with you.”
She stood up and caught Henry by the hand and pulled him to his feet dragging him close to her. He could feel her body pressing against him as she looked into his eyes and kissed him softly on the lips. “I like you Henry, you like me?”
“I like you very much.”
“We go nice bar yes? You hear Ernest Hemmingway, he write books, he sometimes drink at La Bodeguita del Medio, but not now all American people go. Come Henry, we here now.”
There was a few of the crew there but no sign of Gary or Tukola. They sat and Henry enjoyed a cold pint while Alicia sipped a daiquiri with sliced ice and fresh lime. Some of the customers at the bar were in full flow discussing something that included Castro and Che Guevara and the talk became very heated from time to time. Batista was referred to in a number of the fiery exchanges. Henry assumed they were discussing the imminent take-over by the rebel troops. Alicia spoke in a very low tone.
“They’re talking about Fidel Castro’s troops coming soon. Batista will be arrested and we will have a new government.”
Henry pondered the idea of asking Alicia to be his messenger. They were sitting unnoticed and out of ear shot.
“Would you like another drink?”
“No thank you Henry, I still have plenty,” she said, holding up her half full glass.
Henry came back from the bar with his beer and sat a little closer to Alicia. She was pleased with this new intimacy and moved her thigh against his.
“Alicia I am going to ask you to do something for me tomorrow; I have a letter and I can’t get off the ship during the day to go myself.”
“Ok Henry, you tell me what it is and I will try to do it for you.”
“I want you to take the letter to the British Ambassador. The Embassy is out in Miramar.”
She looked around a little frightened at what she thought might be an impending subterfuge.
“It is a long way to go I have no cycle to ride.”
Henry almost laughed.
“No, you don’t need a cycle, take a taxi and ask the driver to wait while you get an answer to my letter.”
He took out the letter and she put it straight into her bag.
“Could you go in the morning and I could meet you at the same place in the plaza where I met you tonight at say, four o’clock.”
“Yes Henry, I will do that and meet you at four o’clock.”
They finished their drinks and slipped out of the bar. The streets were dark, all the lighting was out and a half moon was doing its best to light their way. She pulled him close as they walked the shadowy streets; there was loud noise and voices raised coming from one of the side streets He looked up and read a sign with paint peeling; “O Reilly Street”. Good God, where did an Irish name like that come from, Henry mused. There were lights on in the next street and music blaring from open windows. He stopped and looking around to make sure they were alone, he took a wad of bills out of his pocket and peeled off four tens and handed them to Alicia.
“Take these they will pay for your taxi.”
She looked at the amount of money and tried to hand some of it back.
“Too much money for a taxi, you take this.”
“Please Alicia, take it and I will see yo
u tomorrow at four o’clock.”
“I will give you my home address in case I miss you.”
She took out a piece of paper and wrote on it.
“This my address, if I not able to come meet you. Come, my home not far, will you like to stay, no problem, only my mother and she not mind you stay.”
“Alicia, I would like nothing better than to stay with you but I must return to the ship tonight, but next night if you want me, I will stay.”
“Come with me this way,” she held him close and they walked another block and she turned him into a dark doorway. She pulled him down with her arms around his neck and kissed him with a hungry passion. Her flimsy clothes were moving until he had his hands on bare flesh. He felt for his hardness and after lifting her dress and deftly removing her panties, he eased into her. He responded to her fiery desire and in the dark recess she moaned and cried, clinging to him like melting chocolate as he lost himself in the hot comfort of her curvaceous body. With passions spent, they held each other tight, neither wanting to let go
After some time, he didn’t know how long, he kissed her one more time and reluctantly left to go back to his lonely bunk. He traced his way back and when he got to the Plaza he knew his way from there. The streets were darker now; there was no lighting in any of the houses. He heard voices coming his way and stood inside a doorway. A group of men, maybe five in total, were frog marching a terrified individual. His clothes were torn and they subjected him to the occasional blow from a short cudgel. Henry ran the rest of the way back and was never so glad to see the old ship since when he first joined her. Gary wasn’t on board so he locked the cabin door, took out the slip of paper with Alicia’s address on it: seventeen, top apartment, Compostela. He would remember the house if ever he saw it again. It was beautifully decorated in old Spanish style with balconies and had a unique cornice surround with small cherubs now chipped and faded but no doubt, once very ornate and stylishly colonial. He tried to sleep but lay restless thinking of what the following day might hold for him. Yes he thought, tomorrow is another day. eventually, he fell asleep.