by Manolo Mario
“But this is not what we saw out there!” Ortiz wailed and covered his forehead with his hand. “What is arriving from the east?”
“Nothing until tomorrow afternoon. It is the special train, not the regular shipment. That train doesn’t arrive until the next day.”
In a panic, Ortiz left to find Matos, who would be at his local place having his afternoon cocktail.
Matos stood at the bar laughing with friends when Ortiz spotted him from the door. “Camilo! Come over and have a drink.” Matos acted merry and waved his arm like a windmill.
Ortiz leaned forward and at his ear demanded. “We need to talk at once!”
Matos pushed him back and could see the seriousness in his face. He excused himself and walked out to a quiet area. “Camilo, what could possibly be so serious that you want to disturb me. It’s been a great day! The trustee returned and we had a wonderful meeting to catch up and I am back in good graces.”
Ortiz hesitated, frowned, and shook his head slowly. “Well, enjoy it right away because it won’t last long! Here, you better sit down.”
“What do you mean?” Matos’ face abruptly changed.
“I’ve been screwed and taken for a fool by those ranchers in the west.”
Matos furrowed his brow and scratched his head. Ortiz continued. “That’s right. They didn’t have the right cattle. They shipped good healthy cattle until they ran out. Now they are shipping cattle that are not fattened. In fact, the novillos we are receiving are hide and bones. It looks like the ones they quarantined and held back on their food until they knew what was causing the illness.”
Matos spilled his drink over and slouched on his chair. His mind left the room and he replayed his meeting with the trustee. He could not go the next day and tell the trustee he was completely mistaken in his communication the prior day and they were in trouble.
“Alberto, Alberto! Are you listening to me?” He kept talking and Matos never heard a word.
“Yes, yes, Camilo I understand.” Matos sat up and leaned forward. “This is the worst situation we could have expected. This will not go well for you and me.”
Ortiz took a hard dry swallow.
“I’m afraid we need to go to our ultimate solution. We need to get rid of our problem and it needs to be done immediately. Do you see it differently?”
Ortiz pinched his eyes to get his bearing. “No, I don’t see it any other way. I’ll take care of the situation. The man is in place and our problem will be solved in a couple of days. He should have enough details of habits to do his job.”
“Now listen, Camilo, this cannot in any way be tied back to us. You better make sure there is no trace of anything. You understand?”
Ortiz nodded. “There will be no trace of anything back to us. There will also be no trace of our problem when he’s through.”
***
Elio and Rico waited on the sidewalk in front of the slaughterhouse at eight in the morning. Ortiz did not show for an hour and apologized for being late, but had some good news as a result. They went upstairs to the office.
“Ortiz, I am mad as hell. We made a deal a year ago and we paid and have been paying you good money; lots of money for you to screw us now. What in God’s name is going on?” Elio’s initial thrust came with a red face and a stern look.
“Sr. Gomez, I cannot tell you how embarrassed I am. This is tragic and I am terribly sorry. My name and my word is my bond and I regret for all that is happening. You see some ranchers in the west screwed me. It will take a few days for things to normalize, but it will be made good. As evidence of my good faith, I will have a few good novillos delivered that afternoon. These are a few, but a show of good faith.”
“Ortiz, what is happening with the cattle in Camagüey? Why are we not getting them?”
“Well Señor Gomez, it’s a long story, but we’ve run into one intransigent individual that is holding us back. It has been sad for us and for the guajiros in Camagüey.”
“How so, Ortiz?”
“We have not been able to purchase lots at reasonable prices. The ranchers are getting squeezed, but they signed up for a bad deal with this one person.”
“So, what are you going to do about it, Ortiz? This shouldn’t be my problem. You are there to make the deal work. Why don’t you pay up?”
“Señor Gomez, the price being asked is exorbitant. We have little to do. I do suspect all of this will be resolved in a few days.”
“In a few days? After what you have explained? What makes you think so? Why should I have confidence it will get resolved?”
“Let’s say I have a premonition. I know I don’t deserve your confidence after all of this, but I think everything will be fine in a few days.”
There were more apologies and promises, but Ortiz left and Elio rushed to get his courier up to the office.
***
Matos summoned Alvaro Perez once more. He bounced in his office. “Perez, I need you back to Camagüey and take five other agents. You’ll visit with the guajiros and offer prices on steers, if, and only if they were to abrogate their contract on the novillos and sell them also.”
“All right, sir, but …” Perez wrote a note and didn’t finish his word.
“This time you don’t avoid the issue, but go head to head with it. That is to say, mention directly that it is Bartolo’s fault if they don’t get orders. This will be our all out effort to break this stalemate.” Matos stopped his pacing for an instant as he saw Perez stare.
“Sir, in acting in this manner, would it not give Bartolo more power than necessary? The guajiros are squeezed and need the money. It won’t take long for them to come to the right conclusion. If we were to offer a reasonable price a second time, I think the guajiros would push Bartolo into selling.”
“I won’t have any of that. You have my strict orders to follow. Leave this judgment to me. That little bastard needs to be hammered into the ground.”
“All right, Señor Matos. I will follow your orders.” He stood and walked away, but peered back.
***
On the street outside of Galo’s apartment, a team of horses had gotten themselves tied-up in a tight knot on the hitching post. The cart driver, who delivered fruit along the block, was furious and cussing up a storm. This gag of local teenagers happened from time to time. These adolescents would wait for the driver to move away from his cart and they would take the rope from the reins and tie them around and around in a terrifically complicated knot. The kids would lie hidden and get their kicks watching the person trying to free the cart.
Galo and Quino saw the man furiously looking up and down the street to see if he could catch the rascals. Galo also noted the cart was tied up with rope. He walked over, patted the man and asked if he could help. The man calmed down and agreed. So, Galo reached around his back, pulled out his knife and threw it. It cut the rope, imbedding itself onto the side of the post; much to the disappointment of incorrigible teens watching from around the corner. Unnoticed, but watching as well from across the street was Juan Cuello, who had been roaming around the neighborhood for weeks. He dressed in denim and a straw hat. The gnarly beard barely exposed the tip of a scar on his cheek.
Chapter 54
Elena Velez came sobbing to Elio. The police arrested Alonso right after breakfast. She called for the attorney, who attended court alongside Alonso. He begged for mercy due to the extenuating circumstances of the case. The judge acknowledged the notes from the judge of the original hearing, but said he could not let a cop killer go unpunished. He sentenced Alonso to twenty-five years, provoking a wail from Elena. The attorney objected and asked the judge to reconsider. He took pity on the crippled man and the wailing wife and reduced it to fifteen years in prison. All this happened before noon.
A somber Elio waited at the receiving pen to see what Ortiz arranged. It was late in his day, but with all the concerns he operated on overdrive. He had the courier set to leave on the train early the next morning. He spent the day cursing
the situation with the telegraph and was anxious to get word to Galo of the impending danger. He did not want to lose another friend. He swallowed and let the courier get there, hopefully on time. It was time to see what Ortiz would have to deliver. At six thirty, ten fifteen hundred pound novillos with outstanding lines and breed were delivered. Elio inspected them closely noticing the branding in the hindquarter and ran off to find the courier.
***
It took Galo a few days to work his way through the various suppliers and get them to back off the ranchers. The tactic he employed with Cisneros had worked with the others, though many feigned ignorance and swore all day they had nothing to do with taking money. He never wavered from his position and threatened with harsh effects if they didn’t ease off. Besides getting Felipe Quintero’s support, he got Eriberto Sanchez’s as well. He did not have to go to the others, since the last supplier folded when Galo raised his voice a decibel higher than usual.
The end of February approached. Galo handled problem after problem, but had began to wonder how much more would come his way. He was nearly physically exhausted and more importantly, almost financially exhausted after advancing more to the guajiros. His next recourse was to ask Elio, but he didn’t want to do that. He wondered how long the cattle from the west would supply La Habana and how long he would hold everything together before the buyers would give in.
Nothing else in the world had changed. It was all a matter of time and he was running out of time. The thoughts of loading Rona and the kids back onto a train kept coming back. When that wasn’t enough, the thought of a bloody apron, the smell of blood and the ungodly flies. The nights were restless and he struggled with what would come next.
He would remain home this day and count on Quino to work with the messengers to follow the happenings in the ranches. He had created a daily flow of information. Each day a different set of ranches would be reporting. At the same time, he would visit other ranches. The information would include any rotations to a different pen; calves that passed their year anniversary; cows that were impregnated; cows that delivered; and any further observations. The rotation worked well. Messages would be delivered at his home and he would read them when he returned at the end of the day. His issue had come from the Luna Llena ranch. It was difficult to get information or to inspect. This he expected from the onset and didn’t give it too much importance.
***
The train from La Habana entered the station a full half hour early, much to the happiness of Alvaro Perez and his crew. This gave them more time that day to go and see guajiros and do as they planned. Perez didn’t have his men go and check into their hotels. He ordered them to get going with their lists. On the other side of the platform, Elio’s courier exited quickly, but without drawing attention and headed for the trolley.
***
Matos paced in his office all morning. He took a short lunch and he paced again this afternoon. He looked at his pocket watch and thought his men would be arriving in a half hour and the plan to pressure heavily would begin. Perhaps the guajiros would get angry and they would take care of Bartolo on their own. If so, whomever Ortiz hired would not get to do his job. In any case, all would be solved. Was there anything else he could do? Was there another card he could play? He thought and thought and opted to try to send a message to his backdoor source. Perhaps more volume could be sneaked out until these issues got resolved. More money had worked in the past.
***
Quino made himself responsible for hanging around Galo’s apartment building as often as he could. He quietly observed the on goings and felt it prudent to sound an alarm when men were coming, so it was no surprise when he called for Galo to come down stairs where he found Elio’s courier with a note.
He was a little out of breath, though he had ridden the trolley and not run from the station. “Señor Galo, I am to wait here for your response, but I have to be on the return train at five.”
Galo nodded and opened the letter. As he read the first part, he felt some relief and a smile came to his face. As he worked further in the note, the smile disappeared. As he reached the end of the letter, he was red with anger. The news of Alonso cut right through him. He looked at the courier. “Tell Elio all is well and to expect good cattle next week.”
“Is there anything else, sir?”
“No, nothing else. Please don’t miss the train this afternoon.”
Quino put his hand on Galo’s shoulder, “Is everything all right?”
He looked down and seemed to dry a tear from the corner of his eye. He breathed heavily through his nose and lit a cigarette. “The usual, Quino. Sons of bitches from bad milk are everywhere. If one thing is taken care of, something else pops up. My friend that is why it’s called work.”
Galo had not finished the phrase when a local messenger delivered a note from Sastre. A buyer came to his ranch and threatened him with no purchases if he didn’t break with Bartolo.
“So Quino, they are desperate, and now they were going in for a final battle and it’s a direct assault on me!” He didn’t want to overreact. He crumbled the notes and gave the wad to Quino. “Burn them!” He headed upstairs to plan his counterattack.
***
The buying agents worked in a hurry since leaving the train. The six of them visited a total of thirty guajiros in one afternoon. Several were left begging for consideration and three had outright committed to sell their novillos. They returned to check into the hotel at around seven thirty with a plan to get going again the next day at six. There was no time for play this time.
***
Felipe Quintero sat with his wife Rosa on their back porch. He served himself some scotch, the first drink he had since learning of his son’s injuries right after the New Year. During all these weeks he worked incessantly to find a way to get his son home. Earlier that afternoon, he learned his son would be well enough to travel in two weeks. At that time, a family friend would escort his son to Madrid by train. He would be allowed to rest for a couple of days. They would re-board a train to Cartagena and embark a liner that would make a stop in the Azores before crossing the Atlantic to Cuba. He was expected to arrive by late April. The liner would be a neutral Spanish one. It wasn’t ideal and there was risk, but at least there was a plan in place, where until this arrangement there had only been hope.
***
Elio, who had had trouble sleeping for a few days now, was at the train station at three in the morning to wait for his courier’s return. He would wait for an hour, as the train ran late. It had been detained to allow for some priority cargo to go ahead. The courier, tired and groggy was not among the first to disembark. Elio bobbed and weaved to look for his man. When he finally found him and received Galo’s response, he asked, “Is that it? Nothing written?” The courier nodded his assent.
***
In the span of four hours the previous day, Galo received no less than ten messages that a guajiro wanted to see him. Some of the notes were accusatory in nature; others were vague. In all cases, Galo knew the nature of the cause. With the information he received from Elio, he felt he had the ammunition to put some sense into the men. There may be some who would press. He was so confident that he would simply let them out of the contract. These unfortunate guajiros would sell their novillos at rock bottom prices. Those who remained would do very well. How well they would do was the issue. He couldn’t hold out too long. Perhaps if they came somewhere two thirds of the way he articulated to Matos, he would accept, but first thing this morning he had to go and see a few of these guajiros.
***
Juan Cuello saw Bartolo turn the corner of his apartment building and go for his stabled horse. He stood in the shadows at the corner and across from Galo’s apartment. The light of dawn was just visible. He waited patiently and saw Bartolo ride from the side street and take the avenue north. He understood that he would be heading to the ranches north of the city. Cuello mounted his horse and circled around the street that ran parallel along
the park. He wanted to get ahead of the man and he spurred his horse in a full gallop. With luck, precision, and the morning sun at his back, Bartolo would not see noontime.
***
Roberto Luna had been working hard the last couple of days and slept well. He came around to recognize his eldest son was not a bad worker after all and felt buoyed by the thought. He breakfasted well and was excited to be going into town with his son. He wanted to meet with Galo and let him have it. This was a good time to show his son a lesson. While he had been working so hard, little cattle moved since December and he was tired of waiting. It was time to dump the little bastard and sell some cattle.
***
Eriberto Sanchez was catching up with his accounts that morning as well. He also noticed little had been sold. He agreed with Galo to support his supplier strategy in order to help the other guajiros, but things were going to get tight in short order. Many guajiros had come to him for his support. He brought out his contract and saw there was one month left before it terminated. He looked back at his ledger and felt it was going to be close.
***
Galo’s plan for the day called for him to head north to the furthest guajiro’s ranch and work his way back, stopping at others. In the middle of the day, he would stop at the telegraph office and figure out a way to get the telegrapher to end his deal with Felipe. He needed the ability to communicate quickly with Elio and this situation could not continue. He felt he would need to be harsh.
As was his usual route, he exited the city as the first red of the sun peered over the horizon, and despite the travails and the pain in his heart, it was going to be a beautiful day. This path, because it wasn’t a road, was clear with fences running along the left and right. He grew to love this path. It stretched for a distance until reaching the first entrances to the ranches. Along the right every half a kilometer or so, but off in a near distance, a cluster of trees would rise from the ground. At this early hour of the day with the sun low in the horizon, they would form beautiful silhouettes of different and imaginary animals. There was one that attracted Galo very much because it gave the appearance of a bull jumping in the air. He squinted in the direction to make sure he didn’t miss the sight.