by Manolo Mario
Esperanza opened her eyes suddenly. “Oh, those are fried ripe plantains. They are sweet. I tried them the other day and found them delicious. They go well with the saltiness of the chicken and rice.”
Santiesteban ranted with his voice increasing with each word. “Fried plantains? What do you take me for, one of these half-breed idiots? I’ve heard eating these things makes one stupid and it is why Spaniards become retarded here! Come to think of it, you must be eating a lot of these!”
Esperanza locked her shoulders and her face went pale. She knew how this man seemed to light a flame in his head and it would turn into a blaze in no time. There would be no manner to douse the flames. They needed to burn themselves out. When they first were engaged, he used a different approach. The marriage, arranged for reasons she understood, would need to persevere. He wasn’t the best man to look at, but he was tall and fit. He came from a good family and she understood it to be the right thing to do after much convincing.
At this moment, she was paralyzed and knew that anything she would say and do would make the matter worse. Even if she sat there, he would come at her for not caring one bit about him, so she took what she thought was the lightest step of all choices. “Forgive me for not knowing how you felt about the plantains. Let me take them off your plate and I’ll warm the potatoes instead.”
The benign statement of contrition, spoken in the softest unassuming manner, would usually dissolve any animosity, which may have existed normally. At least it was the Christian principal of forgiveness and the road Esperanza took. Nonetheless, she did not sit in front of anything resembling a Christian.
“Potatoes, now! You ungrateful excuse for a wife! I’m out working all day with these imbeciles and what do I have to come home to? An incompetent who has been eating the food that makes the people here cretins!”
In a single move, Santiesteban picked up his plate and threw it at Esperanza. The chicken and rice flew onto her face and shirt and the edge of the plate caught her right on her forehead. She drooped back and began to sob. Santiesteban pushed away from the table and rushed out the door, mumbling about what a stupid idiot lived in his apartment.
Chapter 9
The morning’s labors finished early on this day. The shipments ran low and therefore there wasn’t as much work. No one showed concern since the money flowed well at the existing prices. Galo left to spend some time with his new son, while Elio and Alonso remained to catch up on their reports and future planning. Alonso was meticulous with the books he presented to his partners. He would rather commit suicide than to get questioned about the proprieties of his accounting. The partners had full faith and trust in him and would state a question or a doubt to get under his skin.
All of them appreciated that the books presented to the authorities were also meticulous. None would ever so much as raise an eyebrow as to an account. When they observed the operation, it all flowed to the books seamlessly. Every question posed was answered thoughtfully, completely, unequivocally, and with a straight face. Taxes were paid as required to their proper degree, as determined by the partners. They all discussed the issue and arrived at a sum that would be deemed fair by most other businesses. This determination was art. They wanted to be good citizens and good business practitioners. A balance needed to be struck so as not to raise suspicions on other neighbors, competitors, or themselves. At the same time, they recognized any value transferred to the authorities would be stolen. When there was an honest politician, and those emerged once in a generation, one would note public services actually were performed. The trash was collected regularly. The trolley ran on time. The police was out and about, so crime diminished. Then, there were times like these.
Crime was on the rise and most of the business owners were worried. Every day a newspaper would have a story about the President and his men and favors they were handing out. The same day another newspaper would dispel the news and affirm the President was building progress. No citizen could understand the truth. They figured each political side paid off each newspaper to push its agenda. On this day, the newspapers all agreed crime was becoming a real problem.
Rico stepped into the office. “Elio, the plant is clean. Though it’s a bit early, can I let the crew go?” Elio nodded his assent and Rico went back to the production area.
Alonso looked down to his worksheet. “To continue, every scenario I’ve run looks good for us. The numbers so far have surprised me. If the war goes as you’ve said, we will do extremely well.” He looked up. ‘What a sad thought to have a war benefit us.”
“Don’t fret Alonso. This is neither the first nor the last time a war provides some kind of a benefit. We’re fortunate that we’re on the plus side for now. You never know what all this will lead to. Thanks for including Galo’s calculations. It gives a real clear picture.” Elio looked over Alonso’s shoulders to follow the numbers.
Unexpectedly, a policeman appeared at the door to their office without notification or a knock. Elio stepped around the desk with a glaring stare, which caused the policeman to straighten further and place his hand on his nightstick. He stared back at the young man and tapped at the nightstick as the silence held. “Good afternoon, I am Lieutenant Santiesteban of the La Habana police department. Are you the owner of this establishment?”
Elio let the question linger as he looked over the officer, enough time for it to be uncomfortable. When the cop started to speak again, he interrupted in a respectful and even tone. “Our company is a partnership and you are with two of the partners. Is there a problem, officer?”
Santiesteban tilted his head and smirked. “Aren’t you a little young to be speaking? Don’t you have a more senior partner? How many partners are there and where are the others?” He looked around the room and peered outside the door looking for authority.
Elio did not give him one credit for the attempted snide and merely repeated his question. “Is there a problem officer?”
“Where are the other partners, I said?”
“Officer, with all due respect, it is a private matter that unless I understand the problem I do not wish to communicate.”
Santiesteban snapped his shoulders back. “Do not wish to communicate? You are speaking to an officer of the law!”
“I am speaking of the law. Perhaps if I sent for my lawyer, he could clarify what I am telling you.”
Santiesteban glared, but made no move. “There is no need for a lawyer. I can tell you make decisions for your partners despite your youthfulness.” He moved away from the door. “Here is the problem. There is an increased level of crime in this city and many businesses have felt the losses.”
Alonso collected the paperwork and blurted out much to Elio’s lament. “Yes, General, but we are safe. Our hours are different and everyone here knows how to take care of himself.”
Santiesteban retorted with a smile and stepped towards Alonso’s desk. “First, I am a lieutenant. Second, many of the criminal occurrences are not defendable.”
Elio half coughed and drew the cop’s gaze. “Lieutenant, I am sure you have thought through the situation and studied it carefully, and would want to provide us with a potential resolution to the problem.”
Elio’s eyes were drawn to the door where Rico returned from closing down. “What is going on here? Who’s being arrested?”
Santiesteban stiffened. He showed little deference, but a straight stare. Elio walked to Rico and away from the policeman, opened his eyes real wide and answered him. “No one is being arrested. The lieutenant here was concerned for our safety and the rash of crime in the area. He was about to provide some suggestions as to how we should handle this.” He eased back to the officer, “This gentleman is Rico. So lieutenant, what would you suggest?”
Rico stood with his mouth agape. Santiesteban gave a quick nod to Rico. “Very well. So gentlemen, there is a way we can achieve the kind of tranquility that will allow all of us to flourish in our respective endeavors. I have certain needs, which I must meet. Y
ou know, monetary aspirations. In return, I will guarantee no one will disturb this establishment for any reason.”
Rico fondled his knife holstered on his belt, when Elio stepped back and got in between him and the officer. He reached back and squeezed Rico’s arm so as to signal to stand still. “So let me understand what you’ve explained. You are able to secure our property and prevent anyone from committing a crime against us. And in return, we would pay you a fee. Is this the essence of the suggestion?”
“Why, yes, yes it is. I knew you were a smart young man.”
“How much where you suggesting, lieutenant?”
“I estimate you must be doing well with the price of meat and all. Some of your neighbors are not doing so well. It would be fair for you to cover some of their shortfalls as well.”
Alonso, who had been sitting with his hands on the desk, mumbled a sound that usually led into a run on sentence, complete with expletives. Rico restrained himself. Elio, jumped in quickly before the others said anything. “How much lieutenant?”
Santiesteban stood silently and he played with his bearded chin. He stated unhesitatingly. “I think fifty pesos a week would cover the circumstances for now.”
Alonso gasped a bit. Rico managed to remain quiet.
The number did not faze Elio. He realized they were negotiating. “That is a hefty sum. Suppose we felt we could take care of ourselves and did not require your … services?”
“I’m afraid the alternative could bring a lot of problems. Perhaps this establishment is not in line with most legal requirements. It would open the company up to further investigations. After all, one could not prevent rumors from spreading in respect to what goes on in here. Not to mention what criminals could intervene.”
Rico’s face turned red and his lips pressed for too long, were white. “Why you insolent creep, I’ll tell you what you could do….”
The cop brandished his nightstick and smacked the desk hard. He glared at Rico. “Please try something. I desperately want to teach a lesson right now! I’ve spoken more this afternoon than I care to!”
Elio intersected the growing disdain between the two. “Here, here. Let’s calm down. Lieutenant, we also have not considered such situations. I’m afraid I am going to have to ask you for time to discuss with my partners before we conclude.”
Rico looked incredulously at Elio and Elio winked back.
“Time? Do you take me for a fool? I can see your partners will have to go along with what you say. Time? I’ll give you about a minute before I walk out and all sorts of shit start to happen.”
Rico mumbled, “For good,”
“What did you say?” The lieutenant turned to Rico and started for him.
Elio took the attention once more and exclaimed. “All right. Alonso, get the lieutenant fifty pesos.”
This stopped the Lieutenant from advancing immediately. Alonso sat there paralyzed.
“I said now, Alonso!”
Alonso rose slowly, stepping back to the safe, and turned the dial for the proper combination. The door opened and he reached in to count out fifty pesos. He closed the safe and walked the money back to Elio.
Elio held the money out as the cop reached for it. Suddenly, Elio pulled it back and asked slowly. “What guarantees do I have the arrangement will be upheld?”
“Guarantees?” Santiesteban blinked repeatedly then smiled. “Simple, you have my word as an officer and a gentleman.”
Rico braced himself against the wall biting his lower lip. Alonso held his head down staring at the desk.
“Well, I will personally hold you to your word as an officer … and a gentleman. If this fails, it will be in your hands. You will collect on Fridays in the afternoon out front of the business, not in here. Also, no one is to know.”
Elio saw Santiesteban hesitate glance back to the nightstick. He shook the bills in his hand. The cop’s eyes drew to the sight of the money. “This private and confidential arrangement is firm.”
Having received the affirmation, Elio handed him the money. The cop pocketed the bills. He turned for the door never losing sight of Rico the entire way. Elio waved his arm to get Rico to step aside and Rico did. At the door, Santiesteban turned back to the room, and tipped his hat. “Good day, gentlemen.”
Rico turned to follow the cop down the stairs, but Elio caught him by the arm once more. “Elio, what in the hell just happened? I could have pummeled the son of a bitch of a creep or even killed him and flushed him out with the cattle shit! Why would we pay this guy fifty pesos a week?”
“I couldn’t let you do anything to this guy. A missing cop would have been an issue and other people would come to see what happened. You don’t know who saw the man walk in here.”
Deep breaths were heard from Alonso’s place at the desk. “What investigation could he bring? Our books are clean! We are even more sanitary in our installation than any of the other houses. What the hell, Elio?”
“All right, look, there was something about this guy that told me it was better to give him fifty pesos a week than to start something. We are making good money and if we were to hire someone to protect our interests, we would have to pay him more. Better that we have an authority making sure.”
Alonso and Rico looked at each other with a slight grimaced nod. Despite his explanation, Elio saw that his partners thought he’d gone nuts. He knew Matadero El Sol was turning a nice profit since the day of the Ortiz deal.
Chapter 10
“So let me see if my ears didn’t get clogged with bull jizz: a bearded, tall, Spanish, lisp and all, policeman walked into the office. He told a story about increasing crime and the need to pay for protection. You stopped Rico from pulling his knife out and making minced meat out of this ... scum, and you agreed to pay him fifty pesos a week based on his word as an officer and a gentleman. Did I get it right, Elio?”
Galo’s face contorted in lines being created as his voice increased in volume at the end of his recap. He was beet red and his roaring voice echoed off the office walls.
Elio looked down, “You don’t understand.”
Galo didn’t let him continue. “What is there to understand? Did you lose your balls from the time I said I was going home yesterday? This is one time I would have been on Rico’s side. This criminal would be sewer shit by this time.”
Elio sat up abruptly and flipped his arms, palm open. “And what? He would have been easily traced to here. Questions would arise, investigations from whichever authority. It would have been a disaster for us at a time when the business is giving us a return that would allow us to grow. Realize in the scheme of things that fifty pesos a week is insignificant to keep this guy out of our hair.”
“That is exactly the problem. Anybody with the balls to come in here and do what he did cannot be trusted to stay out of our hair! This guy is a problem, will be a problem, and you better realize we are going to suffer and have to deal with him in the end.”
Alonso swiveled in his chair. “Galo, I think you are overstating the situation. This guy did put on a show, but Elio was in control. You know cops don’t make that much money. Clearly, he arrived here recently and is simply trying to make a living.”
Galo pointed his index finger at Alonso. “Make a living? Are you eating shit as well? In any language, in any country, this guy is a decrepit thief hiding inside some uniform. This is nothing new.” He turned back to Elio. “I’ve had my say and don’t have to deal with him. This is your cross to bear!” He stalked out to go about his duties.
Elio stared at the floor, when he heard Alonso speak. “He’ll get over it. You know that his bark is louder than his bite.”
“Yes, I’m aware. And, I know he cares and believes deep down that he is correct. He has been correct before and it makes me worry. I hope he is wrong this time.”
~~~
Galo walked down the stairs and over to the production line. On the short walk over there, his mind turned with thought, ‘Coño, just when we were advancing t
he company, some bastard interferes and we don’t nip it at the bud. I hope I am wrong, but this whole thing smells putrid.’ It was eight thirty in the morning. He had been at it since four and there were many more cattle to slaughter and process for their various customers.
***
Alberto Matos felt elated with his business at hand. He developed the business of buying cattle at a great advantage. In essence, he paid ranchers little and charged slaughterhouses a lot. His place of business was located in a nondescript building in Old Havana. On this day nothing could sour his spirits after another successful cattle-buying trip. And though he listened to Camilo Ortiz explain his ‘side’ deal, his teeth still shone from underneath his pencil-thin mustache.
“Camilo, what makes you think that you are such a good businessman that you could actually make more money on the side?”
Camilo looked curiously back. “I know what I am doing and you know it. If they would’ve approached you instead, you would’ve done it. Also, remember they think we are competitors.”
“I’m not sure I would have done the deal. Yes, we have a big spread we’re making, but nothing is forever. In any case, I like that we move with the times.”
“Yes, and I am the one that usually keeps all your other buyers straight. You trust that I take care of your troubles and we continue to do well.”
“Of course. I won’t stand in your way for your deal, but I won’t come and save you either. After all, you didn’t come to offer me a piece of it either.”
“Come on, Alberto. Do you want to get in it? I will let you in, but the slaughterhouse people can’t know.”
“Nah, Camilo. No, I don’t want in. I just want to get our men and celebrate with all of you. It’s almost time, we should go and meet them.” He stood and waved Camilo out the door.
***
The rest of the morning had gone well in respect to cattle processing. Galo stuck to his task in order to keep the other thoughts from his mind and get through his day. He disposed of his apron, washed and headed out the door without so much as a word to anyone. He was tired, but also concerned and that made him tense. He thought for a moment and decided to do the unusual, stop by a restaurant on his way home. Perhaps a glass of wine or even a glass of rum on this occasion could settle him down.