Ganado: a novel

by Manolo Mario

  They waited the five minutes patiently. The door opened and all of a sudden a tidal wave of noise came rushing through the door. The three men stiffened, but it was clearly another patron heading out. Galo frowned, for despite all the planning, they needed the cop to be there in the first place and second, he needed to come out alone. This patron luckily descended the steps and went off away from the Malecon. Another five minutes passed with no effect. And another five minutes went by. The anxiety grew exponentially.

  If they had been sweating before, it was nothing to what they were feeling at the moment. Galo was still unaware of Rico’s position as he lit up a cigarette. He saw Elio move out onto the curb waving his hands all around and pointing at his hand. Galo looked down and realized the cigarette could be seen. He dropped it and stomped on it. In the motion, he saw a slight movement from Rico. He caught himself and moved back into the shadow.

  A horseman appeared from the Malecon behind Galo, raising the hairs on his neck, but this man continued past the brothel and rode into the darkness. Time passed and still there was no sign of the lieutenant. On and off, others would pass by on the Malecon, but none stopped or turned onto this street. When would he call this off? ‘God, I’m dying for a cigarette!’ screamed in his mind. Lulu must have been too busy to wake the creep and send him on his way. Despite being apart, Galo knew Elio thought the same thing. ‘I hope the pretty Martica can tell time.’

  Galo risked stepping out into the light to shrug his shoulders and open his arms with palms out, gesturing to Elio. Elio stepped out and gestured palms down. Already a half hour had passed, much more time than anticipated.

  ~~~

  Rico was a ball of nerves. Though he had not moved, his breathing became labored and all he could hear was the pounding of his heart in his ears. If the door opened and he wasn’t looking, he would not be aware of anyone stepping out, so his eyes were fixed on the door.

  ~~~

  In the background a new threat appeared, unexpected and unwelcomed, a flash of lightning and distant thunder sounded off in the dead of the night. It was at a distance inland, not towards the sea. Another followed, a little closer. The humidity told Galo the skies could open up at any moment and though the rain would be a welcomed event for the three men in hiding, it would be an element that could complicate matters. Galo felt minutes away from calling the whole thing off. His mind worked on the next date they could reconstruct the coordination and have their way, if at all. Maybe in a week, Alonso could be awake and the whole ruse would blow up. He needed to give this more time. The risks were growing dramatically.

  Suddenly, the door opened to another rush of light, voices, and music. Lieutenant Santiesteban stumbled out the first step while trying to say good night and kiss the señorita escorting him. She gently pushed him so the kiss went into the air as she slammed the door behind him.

  “Yes. The whoreson is there and right where we want him,” whispered Galo to himself.

  Santiesteban wore street clothes and he labored. He had his hat in one hand and with the other he pulled down on his shirt all while turning away from the door. Galo tensed.

  ‘Good,’ Galo thought. ‘He has been drinking and doesn’t have all his senses. This will work.’

  ~~~

  Despite seeing nothing amiss, Santiesteban felt off balance. Rico reached up from the darkness and yanked on his ankle. The cop’s arms flew up in the air wildly. His hat flew in one direction as he teetered in the other direction and then back again before eventually falling, but not down the steps and not toward Rico’s side. There was a loud bang, whoosh, clop, and oomph.

  Rico froze and slowly moved from his side of the steps to go around. He was indecisive because he couldn’t figure how to get by the ill-placed streetlight without being seen. Even worse, he reached the bottom of the stairs and a flash of lightning illuminated the whole street followed shortly by a boom of thunder. The wind began to pick up. The other men froze in their place in dire fear they would be spotted.

  ~~~

  Santiesteban picked himself up from the sidewalk and laughed loudly. “I am such a lousy drunk. I’ve lost my balance and got lucky I fell onto these trashcans.” He truly was fortunate. The containers broke his fall and allowed him to roll onto the sidewalk. Instinctively, he looked up to see the sky and reached back for his hat. A large tropical raindrop splat right by his feet, and another inches further. Another bolt of lightning struck causing all the lights to go out. In that moment, he looked straight down to admire the size of the drop on the sidewalk. Should he run? Nah, he felt he could use the freshening and the rain brought his good fortune. Then he sensed what appeared to be a movement behind him where no one was expected to be. He turned and looked back straining his eyes to see, but the newfound darkness and the increasing rain didn’t produce anything.

  ~~~

  Rico moved closer to the front of the steps, relieved with the absence of the beam from the streetlight. He crouched with his pointer in hand, not aware of anything but the sudden wind, the rain, and the lieutenant. He moved slowly as Santiesteban edged out, advancing to the curb. The rain began to gush. Rico’s heart pounded in his ears even more and he tried to quicken his step to close the gap. As if the gods were against righteousness, the damn streetlamp lit up like it hadn’t before, turning the night into day and exposing the toughest man in all of Cuba fully to the cop. Rico froze, visibly stunned. Galo gasped and started to walk towards the men. Elio, from across the way, stepped out to the curb.

  ~~~

  Santiesteban looked at Rico not recognizing him. He blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Assured of what he saw, he shook his head and grinned. “What? You want to rob me in the middle of the night, you coward; you bastard!! I’ll kill you, you decrepit thief!” And he took a step towards Rico.

  Rico stood still, not knowing what to do. The staggering lieutenant fumbled with his right hand in his pocket. He yanked something from his pants and in doing so seemed to be hopping. Lightning struck again and all three men saw at once Santiesteban was retrieving a pistol from a holster.

  ‘Coño! Where did he get that?’ chorused in the mind of Rico, Elio, and Galo. Lightning struck repeatedly one after another and the streetlight went out once more. The rain pounded down sideways from the wind gusts. It made everything happen in an unnaturally slow motion. Galo began to run from the corner while reaching to the small of his back. He could see that Elio was closer and had a knife in hand, but could he get there in time? He could not move fast enough to reach Santiesteban. The cop worked the gun out of its holster and deliberately lifted his arm in Rico’s direction. Rico was a statue in the pouring rain and batting wind.

  It could have been the wetness of the rain or the drunkenness of the cop or the newness of the weapon or the lack of practice, but it took longer than necessary for the lieutenant to aim the weapon. This was just enough time for Galo and Elio to let their knives fly.

  Elio’s knife struck the lieutenant on the right breast below the shoulder causing the cop’s arm to sag and for the gun to drop to the sidewalk. Galo’s knife struck by the right side of Santiesteban’s upper back, causing the policeman to fold further to his right. Rico didn’t move.

  ~~~

  Santiesteban could not figure out what was happening as he felt himself falling to his right. He was confused. He felt pain in the shoulder, but why couldn’t he move it? Where was his gun? Lightning, again, as he folded onto the sidewalk where he noticed the gun a few feet away. He scrambled to reach it with his left hand, but it was kicked away. He caught a foot. Elio flew off balance and fell down.

  ~~~

  Galo sprinted and jumped onto the back of the cop. He was out of breath. He searched to pull out his knife, but he couldn’t locate it. The cop threw his elbow back and struck Galo on the side of his head. Galo flew onto the pavement.

  Somehow, the cop worked to get back on his feet and he made it onto one knee. Elio managed to stand and he kicked back at Santiesteban, knocki
ng the air out of him. The next spark of lightning might as well have been an alarm. On the sidewalk within reach of the cop, Elio’s knife reflected every particle of light available. The panting cop reached for it, but Elio jumped at it as well. Both of them had a hand on the handle. Lightning flashed once again. It was the first time the cop saw the man he was fighting. His eyes flew open in recognition. It allowed Elio to punch the gash on the cop’s chest. The lieutenant made a guttural noise of pain and released the knife. Elio, with full control of his knife, lunged and in a single move drove it into the middle of the animal’s gut.

  ~~~

  The cop let out air and made more noises. He couldn’t speak. He shivered and bucked to get up. He fought the elements. He needed to kill this man that cheated him. It would be a lesson like the one he gave to the funny man. From his knees, Santiesteban pulled the knife out of his gut and brought it forward towards Elio.

  ~~~

  After shaking the pain of the elbow on the side of his head, Galo was desperate to find his damn knife. It fell out of the cop’s back and was somewhere close. He was dizzy, but through the rain and wind he saw Elio engaged with the animal. It would take one more lightning streak to illuminate the sharp and handy tool that seldom left him.

  Galo had his knife in hand once more. He gained his feet and took the four steps toward the cop who was on his knees with a knife facing Elio. Like he did when a steer had not been properly killed, Galo shoved his knife into the back of the animal as deep as he could. The beast let out an unearthly sound, and his eyes opened wider than at any time. Galo pulled the knife out and swiped at his neck, catching the jugular a second later like a Christmas goat. He grunted, “Chupa cabron24!”

  Blood spurted out like an open spigot. It squirted in lesser shots as the cop’s heart gave out. Santiesteban, Verges, the Lieutenant, the animal, the beast would never know anything else in this world.

  No sounds could be heard in the pouring rain and wind. From the end of the street the sea rose and waves smashed and sprayed clear across the lane. Galo stood and went to Rico, slapping him hard across the face.

  “Get with it! We need your help!”

  He cleaned his knife on the lieutenant’s soaked shirt, when he noticed they were exposed to the door of the whorehouse and made a ‘hurry up’ gesture. Elio and Rico approached quickly. He faced his partners. “We can’t leave him here like this. Let’s pick him up like a drunk and get his ass to the sea.”

  The blood washed down the sidewalk onto the street and into the sewer drain. No matter the plan, a stabbed body was not the same as a body with a broken neck. Elio and Rico grabbed the still oozing corpse by the back of the pants, threw its arms over each of their shoulders. Galo took the lead a few feet ahead to make sure no one would appear. Lightning still lit up the sky, but the broader city lights had gone out. Another bolt of lightning showed the heavy rain rapidly washing away the trail of blood the body seeped. As they neared the corner, the salty taste of the sea was on their tongues.

  At the middle of the street that ran along the Malecon, a heavy wave smashed and threw more than a spray at the men. It sent them down to the pavement. Elio and Rico were fortunate to catch their fall, by letting the corpse go. Galo lost his balance, but recovered smartly. He took a few steps back and helped Elio and Rico up. They returned to their task and picked up the dead body. With one more pull of energy and working through a series of more waves, they tossed the body over the wall and into the sea. At this time it did not matter whether the sea or the rocks would take care of the body. Galo yelled through all the noise. “Go to hell! Do the one good you’ll ever do and feed the fishes! Nah, the poor fish will probably have indigestion for a month!”

  * * *

  24 Literally it means “Suck, you Big Goat!” or “Suck, you Big Bastard!”

  Chapter 27

  It was not common to have a tropical storm in May. It would be premature, as the season did not officially begin until June. The storm this particular year took three days to make its way through. It wasn’t strong like those in September or October, but nonetheless it shut the city down and a lot of water fell.

  On the fourth day, the skies cleared and life began to return to its more normal pace. The slaughterhouse opened on Monday despite the Independence Holiday. Part of the crew worked to repair holes in the roof. Another set of men bailed water from the overflow of the cistern and filled drums for later use. The new pump wasn’t enough for the volume. This amount of water had been a good rarity. Typically, they would be clearing the whole cistern because the water would have been heavily saline. Most storm winds came in from the north and pushed the seawater through the water tables. This one came in from the south and dumped fresh water. The final sets of men were working the slaughter of the few cattle held over until the next delivery. A somber Rico personally handled the neck breaking.

  Elio waved Fefo away after he finished cleaning up the water that had worked its way into the office. He was doing some catch up on the books when Galo came in. “Have you spoken to Rico?” Elio nodded no.

  “He is slaughtering the cattle himself and has not allowed anyone else to do so. He has a focused look on his face and he hasn’t said a word to anybody. I think he is ashamed that he froze the other night. He might even be thinking we think he’s a coward.”

  Elio remained quiet and scratched his cheek.

  Galo continued, “We can’t change what happened the other night and I’m not sure anything we can say will ease his mind. It will take time.” He took a breath and focused on Elio. “Are you bothered? You’re not thinking of going to confession, are you?”

  Elio did not look up. “I don’t know. I am troubled because I feel no shame or remorse. I took a life like nothing. All I could think of was Alonso in the hospital and his pain.”

  “Whew, thank God. I was starting to worry. Look, ‘we’ disposed of a no good piece of shit. It wasn’t ‘you.’ The plan didn’t work precisely, but we reacted before we lost another partner. As to me, despite the storm, I’ve slept deeply for a change.”

  ***

  For reasons that were unclear to Elena, the same Tuesday after the storm Elio visited and told her she could return to the hospital and stay with Alonso. He merely explained the storm cleared the danger and there should be no more issues. She wanted to press for more clarity, but her place was beside her husband. As she opened her door to leave, Nevy and Father Tomas were outside. They were there to accompany her to the hospital, so she wouldn’t have to go on her own.

  At the hospital, they entered and were surprised to see Elio talking quietly with the clerical nurse at her station.

  The nurse looked up at Elio. “What about if the same policeman comes back and asks about the patient?”

  “In that case Señorita, you must tell him the truth. Better yet, fall on your knees, kiss his feet, and pray to him!”

  The nurse left with a puzzled look on her face. Elio felt the tap on his shoulder from Elena. He turned. “I see you came over and …,” he looked at the others, “brought friends.”

  “It did not slip by me that you were advising the young lady to pray, Elio,” offered Father Tomas.

  “I heard it as well,” added Nevy.

  “It was the right thing to do,” concluded Elio turning his head quickly so as not to laugh out loud. They followed him down the hall to Alonso’s private room.

  Dr. Sanchez and Dr. Nuñez were coming out of Alonso’s room and met up with the four of them. The doctors spoke quietly and asked them to step into empty station. They stood in a close huddle.

  “Is everything all right, doctor?” asked Elio with Elena, Nevy, and Father Tomas rapidly echoing the same question.

  Dr. Sanchez pressed Dr. Nuñez to speak with a gesture and he began.

  “The patient, Señor Velez, has had a bad time the last couple of days and we became concerned. We took care of all the identified injuries, which I might add appear to be healing nicely, except for the bruise on his head.
He is still non-reactive; in a coma. After consultation with other colleagues, we decided to drill a small hole in his cranium to relieve the pressure and see if this would allow him to come to.”

  Nevy’s eyes were wide as she gave a small gasp and almost fell onto Father Tomas, who had a presence of mind to grab her quickly.

  “Doctor, so you made a hole in his head? Is that what you are saying?” asked an unbelieving Elena.

  “Effectively, yes. But it is a small hole and the excess liquid drained,” affirmed Dr. Nuñez.

  “So, he’s alive still?”

  Both doctors fumbled over themselves in assuring her that he was alive and would be alive despite the procedure.

  “You can go in to see him, but I don’t want you to be concerned with the bandage wrapped around his head,” assured Dr. Nuñez. Elio followed up with questions, the final one asking for a prognosis.

  Dr. Nuñez looked at Dr. Sanchez who spoke this time.

  “We have done all we know to do. At this point, I have to look at Father Tomas and his department.”

  That seemed to perk up Nevy and she tugged on the priest, who had all eyes focused on him. They followed Elena into the room and sat in chairs as Father Tomas began to pray the rosary.

  Elio remained outside with the doctors while they continued to explain the prognosis of his arm and leg. Dr. Nuñez broached the pending subject.

  “Will you be pressing charges against anyone in particular and will you need us to write a report for the police?”

  Elio did not want to answer too quickly, so he took a pensive look, scratching his head and doing his best to give the question some consideration.

  “Doctor, are you now thinking this was not an accident? I thought you felt it was an accident on the day he was brought in?”

  “Well, yes and no. You see, they brought him here and told me he suffered an accident, a fall down a set of stairs. I acted and progressed with that notion. After dealing with his injuries and working with Dr Sanchez, here, I think the injuries are too harsh for a fall. That is to say unless he fell from a fifth floor.”