by Manolo Mario
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29 Primary Avenue.
30 A neighborhood
31 Tinajon is a wide mouth earthenware urn made to hold water and keep it fresh
32 Mocho in a way means gimp. It refers to a person missing an arm. It was typical to nickname individuals by their physical flaw, whatever it might be.
33 Amapolas are the local poppy flower with rich red petals and a bright yellow stigma rising form its center.
34 Our Lady of the Lamp.
35 Very typical hard candy on a stick
Chapter 37
It took a few days for the family to settle into their new apartment. Galo used the time to walk the avenue and meet as many people as he could. He was able to get his bearings by noting that at the south end stood the plaza La Caridad along with its church and towards the north one found the river and the crossroads with the central highway. On the avenue, there were homes and some apartments. There were also businesses and shops. Along the sidewalks one would find palm trees and jacarandas.
This second week of October had been pleasant with gentle breezes. The locals explained that a storm had raked the north coast of the island in late August and there was another one brewing. This explained the breezes, but they felt there would be no major storm coming their way. They offered the explanation that the animals were not acting nervous this year.
Frank arrived early in the morning, in time for Rona to give him a cup of coffee. She headed out the door to get Cari, Iris, and Mandy to the parochial school where they had registered a few days before, leaving the nanny to look after Galito.
The men sat in the living room. “Frank, I would like to meet some of the cattlemen. How should I go about doing so?”
“There are a lot of cattlemen, Galo. We could walk over to the slaughterhouse and wait for some of them to deliver their cattle. We could do the same by the rail yard.”
“I guess we could, but I want to meet the big cattlemen. You know, the ones that have a lot of cattle and are rich. Do you know them?”
“Yes, I know some of them. I have done some work for them on behalf of the hardware store from time to time. They come into town usually on the weekends with their family to go to the country club, church and shop. Hey, as a matter of fact, there is a rodeo in two weeks or so. I’m sure they’ll all be here.”
“The rodeo would be an opportunity, but I would like to get out to their ranch and see the cattle and the operation. It would give me a good insight into what I need to work through.”
“So, you do have your mind set on being a cattleman, but you still haven’t explained how you are going to get the money to invest.” Frank raised a skeptic’s eyebrow.
“I told you Frank, money is important, but not out of reach for what I think I want to do. What I need is for you to make the introduction. After that, I will go to where it takes me. Now, who can we go visit or do we need to announce ourselves?”
“All right, we can go to the rail yard today and see who is shipping, perhaps some of the independent owners will show. Tomorrow, we can ride early in the morning out to La Vaquita. It is the biggest ranch in the province. I can introduce you to Felipe Quintero, who I know the best. He owns the place. I did some work for him back in June. He truly appreciated the work and treated me like the gentleman.”
“That would be excellent. When should we go to the rail yard?”
“We can go in a little while and catch them around noon. Maybe we could have lunch with some of them.”
Rona returned with a bag she managed to buy on the way home. “I like the vegetable vendor here. I worked a good deal for these turnips. What should I make for lunch with these?”
Galo didn’t let Frank answer. “Rona, we are going out on business and will have lunch out somewhere. Perhaps next time.”
Rona looked a bit disappointed, but Frank didn’t allow her to get down. “So Rona, which vendor did you scalp this morning?”
“Scalp! Why you skinny twig. I merely prevented him from scalping me! And why would you care? By the way, I did notice you paid a great deal of attention to that one young lady when we first got here. Why don’t you get and marry her? It would be nice to have nephews and nieces! That’s what you should care about!”
Galo stared at Frank as if to say, ‘you lit a fire that can’t be controlled. You are in for it now!’ Frank merely grinned and laughed at her ire. “Rona, you miss the point. You and Galo already have enough kids for all of us. And even more important, why would I want to be married to one person when there are so many women around?”
That prompted a series of profanities from Rona directed at his indiscretions, which got Galo out the door quickly tugging on his brother’s shirt before she changed her target.
At the stockyard, Galo received a good view of the cattle being shipped. They looked fine and fatty. In his mind, he calculated that each two thousand pound steer would yield around fifteen hundred pounds of various meat cuts. At market prices, the slaughterhouse could sell the beef for around four hundred pesos. This did not include the hides, bones, and other trimmings. One hundred thousand heads would generate forty million pesos. There was plenty of money to be made. None of the big ranch owners came to the stockyard that day, but he did get a chance to meet several working owners of smaller ranches. They were good and humble people, much like their work.
The next morning Galo was up early as was his habit and downstairs by five when Frank pulled up with the horses. It was still dark and the streetlights gave a glow along the avenue. Several shops were active as they rode north. There was a bakery on the right and the smell of fresh bread baking overpowered the street. Further down the street, a coffee roaster emitted an aroma that would wake the dead. As they moved closer to the center of town there were more people out. It was a working town that rose early, typical of people who toiled with animals and the earth.
It wasn’t long before they reached the outskirts and they followed the trail along the railroad heading north and east. The dawning day showed its first bit of color and the promised that it would be another clear and breezy day. Galo was amused by the silhouettes formed by the clumps of trees and bushes against the morning light. On the flat land, these clusters would rise into the light of the sky and would form crude shapes. He particularly was drawn to one that gave a sense of a bull jumping right before it kicked.
During the ride, Galo recounted the lunch the prior day with the cattlemen. He noted they were good hardworking men with a simple understanding of the trade. They raised and fattened their cattle to get it sold. These sales would happen four or five times a year and they would get enough money to get by. The cattle, he saw, were good stock. There were Brahmas and Holsteins and several Andalusian mixed breeds. All were in good shape and the pens and alleys constructed to get them loaded on the train were ideal. He felt the lunch went well and the men were friendly. He met two more ‘Mochos,’ one with a left hand missing and the other a right hand. He learned that it was a common hazard when roping a bull for the rope to entangle the hand and rip it right off. One could not underestimate the power of a bull and the need to get the rope tied to the horn of the saddle quicker than quick. It wasn’t a matter of stealing.
He was glad to see Quino and Mulo working with the animals and reminded them that soon there would be steady work for them. He offered lunch, but both brought their bread and meats with them.
“You know Frank, I think those people can make more money if they follow my lead. Do you think they would let me negotiate for them with the buyers?”
Frank thought a moment before answering. He looked at his brother with the same skeptical eye as before. “I don’t know. You would be dealing with some simple people. You have to make it easy for them. The good thing with that group is if they give you their word, you have it all. They value their name and their word. As a matter of fact, the one commodity they truly have is their word.”
They reached a corner of a wooden fence as the top of the sun peaked throu
gh the horizon. Frank indicated the boundary of La Vaquita and one could spot in the distance a group of cattle grazing. They continued to ride for much longer than Galo anticipated. The sun was fully exposed and he began to feel its warmth as they arrived at the main entrance.
The fence met a curved wall made of brick with a tiled mural inserted in the middle reading, ‘La Vaquita’ in cursive. On the other side of the entrance was another curved wall. The tiled inset on that side showed a large ‘V’ with two small horns emanating from each arm and a “Q” towards the bottom of the V. Frank explained it to be Quintero’s brand logo. The cattle would have the brand burned into its hindquarter. He also explained the fence that adjoined the wall on the other side ran twice the distance Galo had seen on the ride in. Through the entrance an alameda of oaks seemed to be hundreds of years old ran for a long while. The line of trees followed a straight gravel road for almost a kilometer before it veered to the right. On a rise the ranch house sat elegantly but not ostentatious.
Quintero saw the dust in the distance and knew there were horses coming. Stepping out onto his porch, he was a normal sized man for the times, and impeccably dressed. He wore a starched and pressed white shirt, buttoned completely with a bolo tie hanging loosely. His pants were of a gabardine imported from England and equally starched and pressed as would be noted by the perfect crease running down the length. His boots where tan in color and undoubtedly imported from Argentina. He sported a thin mustache, which he dabbed with a serviette after sipping his coffee. As Frank and Galo worked up the rise to the ranch, Quintero recognized Frank and waved to him. Frank did the same with his hat. He saw Quintero turn to the side and call something out, but Frank couldn’t make it out. By the time they reached the porch, there were a couple of workers out to take the horses.
“Good morning Frank. Don’t tell me you’ve joined the thieving buyers from La Habana and are bringing them to my doorstep?”
Frank laughed as he took the three steps and extended his hand to Quintero, who shook it generously. “Why Felipe, I didn’t come all the way out here to be insulted first thing in the morning by a cattle rustler.”
“Rustler? You give me too much credit!”
He turned and yelled inside the house. “Rosa, have some coffee made! We have guests!”
Quintero turned to Galo who climbed the last step to the porch. “So who might this be?”
Frank didn’t get a chance to answer and was left getting his breath. Galo extended his hand to the rancher. “I am Galo, Frank’s brother.”
Quintero took the hand and opened his eyes wide at the sound that emanated. “Holy mother of God, how could such a roar come from such a small man? No insult intended whatsoever.”
“None taken. You see it’s this thing about my cojones…”
Galo cut himself off as Rosa stepped out to the porch to see her husband doubling over in laughter. She was taken aback at first, but recognized Frank and waved them all into the house. Quintero recovered from his laughter as he patted Galo on the back to get him inside.
After Quintero acknowledged that he hadn’t had a good laugh in a long time, they drank their coffee. The men spoke for a period of time in which Galo explained he moved to Camagüey to seek the right business opportunity. He said he knew cattle, but had limited capital and would appreciate any guidance Quintero could offer.
Quintero took this as a great compliment and offered to show Galo his operation. He told Rosa they would be back for lunch and asked the workers to bring a buggy around the front.
The ranch house at La Vaquita was unpretentious and spacious. Leather commanded the furniture and floor coverings in areas. A library opened to the main room with lots of well-bound books. The dining table was long and could seat twelve. Those were the visible parts as the men walked back out to the porch and down to the waiting buggy.
Quintero drove the buggy himself and made Galo sit up front with him. Frank accommodated himself in the back seat and kicked back. They first drove around the back, which exposed the truly large house. The ground kept rising slowly to a point where Quintero stopped and pointed with his hand whip at the organized cattle pens. He explained the rotation of the fields in order to maintain good earth and grass. He also pointed to the horse stalls and the workingmen’s quarters. Resuming the ride, Quintero showed off the stalls and the various parts of the operations. From branding to castrating to fattening, there was a process for each and men assigned to the work. He ordered for a novillo36 to be slaughtered and for the rib eye to be sent to the house for lunch.
The rest of the morning they rode as the proud Quintero continued to show off the largess and natural benefits of his land. He spent particular time showing the ability to get water from the streams that ran through the property and the engineering done to establish wells for more, if it became necessary. In another area, workers tended to agricultural crops for the consumption of the ranch and its residents. They returned to the ranch in time for the lunch to be served.
Conversation throughout the lunch was light and focused on the cattle operation and the other facets that were viewed on the morning ride. Galo ate light, but well and finished in conjunction with the others. “Señora Quintero — Rosa -- that was an outstanding meal. The meat was perfect as were the vegetables.”
Frank nodded the approval and specifically complimented the bread. Quintero offered for them to retire to the library for a smoke and a cognac. They lit up their fine cigars made especially for Quintero by the finest house in Cuba. Galo again complimented Quintero on his taste and his operation and allowed for his curiosity to take over.
“How do you keep this operation going so well, Quintero? What is the secret to your success?”
“Well, my young friend, I wish it were a secret, but it is a lot of work.”
Quintero rose and asked him to follow into his office in an adjacent room. This room was also adorned with an extensive bookcase behind a neatly organized desk. Quintero pulled a large book from the shelf and placed it on the desk. He opened it and signaled for Galo to join him.
“You see this? I keep this ledger. It traces every bull and every cow we buy and breed. This is tedious work, but I know every day which cows are pregnant and when the calf is due; when a particular bull should be castrated and which few to hold for breeding. When one gets sick and we have to put it down, we can quarantine the rest until we can know that whatever killed the bull isn’t going to kill anything else. No one else on this island is as particular about his records as I am. I don’t know of others, but I have a herd of four hundred thousand head.”
Galo overlooked the ledger in pure amazement and would have continued with his inquiry, but Rosa came into the library with a smile on her face. “We have a letter from Roberto!”
Quintero moved quickly to her and the letter. He quietly read it and smile, but Galo saw a tear in his eye. He wiped his eye and gave the letter back to Rosa and kissed her cheek. He turned back to Frank and Galo. “I ask for your pardon, gentlemen. Do you have children, Galo?”
“I do. I have four; three girls and a boy.”
“And how old is the boy?”
“He is ten months old or so.”
“Oh, you have nothing to worry about for some time. Girls are great and they end up helping around the house. By the time your boy is of age, the world will be a different place. The letter is from my son Roberto letting us know he is well. I sent him to Oxford in England to study law, his original passion. Two years into his studies, he becomes impassioned with the war effort. Without consulting me, he leaves school, crosses La Manche and joins the French Foreign Legion. He is now in some ungodly muddy trench somewhere in France. This is killing his mother and has taken my humor away. I hope he gets our letters telling him to keep his head down and leave the heroics to the Europeans. The letter was dated 10 August and we are getting it today, two months since. Our saving grace is his younger brother, Pablo, who is at Princeton University in New Jersey studying agronomics.”
>
Both Frank and Galo lamented the situation and assured him Roberto would be safe. Galo spent one more hour with Quintero looking over his planning and his philosophy behind the enterprise. He quickly appreciated how and why this man was the largest cattle rancher in Camagüey.
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36 A novillo is a castrated young bull older than one year, but not more than three years. Bulls are castrated to become steers. In this manner, their behavior is more docile and the beef is not gamy.
Chapter 38
The next day, Frank and Galo had an early start as well. This time they headed north and west of the city and planned on making two visits since the ranches were close to each other. The sun rose behind them and the dawn disclosed the land ahead of them as every minute passed. On the ride out, Galo shared his respect for Quintero and stated his fascination with the record keeping. His quick view of the books showed him that Quintero owned around one hundred thousand novillos with another fifty thousand or so cows in various stages of pregnancy. This was a significant number. There were over three hundred hands working the ranch.
At the time, there were approximately two million four hundred thousand heads of beef cattle in the province of Camagüey. Quintero controlled seventeen percent of them. This would have included calves, novillos, and steers. Calves would be less than a year old. The beef, sold as veal, was prized. The ranchers needed to keep their sales of calves to a minimum in order to keep the herd growing. Novillos would continue growing between their first and third years. The novillos could grow to one thousand five hundred pounds and the beef considered as prime. Steers, which were older than three years typically weighed in at two thousand pounds. There would be a greater yield in steers, but the beef, being older would not as tender. Few of these would provide prime beef. Galo’s mind would rattle off what all the weight and consequent yields meant in pesos and the number did nothing to diminish his thinking and his drive.