did was drink cheap rum and beat the Jesus out of his wife and kids.”
“So why did you bring me here?”
“I brought you here so you’d understand why they bombed the Left Bank. It’s not because your father’s a bad man, he’s not. But he’s still the enemy as far as these people are concerned, so are you, and so am I. Sure, they hate Batista and the secret police and the corruption. But it’s the clubs they hate more. Five minutes from here there’s tourists drinking mojitos that cost more than they make in a month while they drink filthy water from a tap they have to carry home in a bucket. Your father may not like Batista any more than them but it doesn’t matter one hot damn to the people down here, and even less to the barbudas in the mountains.”
“And that’s why Inocencia is never going to walk again?”
“I don’t condone it, princess. I’m just trying to help you see the situation. Lanksy and Salvatore and the rest of these mobsters think they can do what they want here and these poor bastards don’t matter. But now they’re fighting back. Fidel took a stand against the mob bosses-- gangsterismo he calls it--and he’s kept them at arm’s length. That’s made him a national hero everywhere but the yacht club and the Tropicana.”
“But the rebels can’t win?”
“I wouldn’t count on it. A few months ago the United States government withdrew its support for Batista and embargoed a large shipment of weapons. They can’t get tanks or rockets anymore, so every one the rebels destroy can’t be replaced. Fidel’s barbudas are well organized, and they know what they’re fighting for.”
“But the newspapers say he’s winning.”
“That’s because Batista controls the newspapers.”
“So Fidel could be our next president?”
“Possibly.”
“And these people here think he can change things?”
“Oh, he’ll change things all right. I’ve talked to him and his brother and guys like Che-- they’re all crazy. What difference will they make down here in the barrios ? Not much, that’s my guess. People here think Fidel will give them a piece of the action but he won’t. They’ll still be poor, same as before. There just won’t be any rich.”
“Papi still tells me everything’s going to be all right, that it will all blow over.”
“Well of course he does, he’s trying to protect you. He doesn’t want you to worry, so he lies to stop you from getting hurt, same as you lie to him. Isn’t that right?”
I wanted to get out of there. I saw a rat scuttle into the shadows. Then right there on the cobblestones I saw a smear of chicken blood, a beaded necklace, the stub of a cigar. There was a little black doll lying beside it.
“Voodoo,” Reyes said.
A group of men started following us down the street.
“Are we safe here?” I asked him.
He drew back the jacket of his tailored white suit and showed me the Smith and Wesson revolver tucked into the waistband of his pants. “Pretty safe,” he said.
“Do you always carry a gun?”
“Always.”
“They say you killed a man in Miami.”
“I killed two. Which time are we talking about?”
She looked up at him. He was serious.
“Look, princess, everything you hear about me is true, even the things they make up. But I’ll tell you this. I don’t hurt anyone unless they try to hurt me. But whatever anyone’s said about me, I don’t care, because whatever it is, it’s never that far wrong.”
“My father doesn’t like me even talking to you.”
“If I were your father I’d tell you the same thing. I’ll never be good for your reputation.” He stopped, drew on his cheroot, and took the revolver out of his waistband. He turned around and levelled it at the men behind us. They scattered. He put it back in his waistband and kept walking as if nothing had happened. “You don’t fit here, do you, princess? In Havana, I mean. You’re daddy’s little girl, but you’re also passionate and hot-blooded.
“So why did you bring me here?”
“I brought you here so you’d understand why they bombed the Left Bank. It’s not because your father’s a bad man, he’s not. But he’s still the enemy as far as these people are concerned, so are you, and so am I. Sure, they hate Batista and the secret police and the corruption. But it’s the clubs they hate more. Five minutes from here there’s tourists drinking mojitos that cost more than they make in a month while they drink filthy water from a tap they have to carry home in a bucket. Your father may not like Batista any more than them but it doesn’t matter one hot damn to the people down here, and even less to the barbudas in the mountains.”
“And that’s why Inocencia is never going to walk again?”
“I don’t condone it, princess. I’m just trying to help you see the situation. Lanksy and Salvatore and the rest of these mobsters think they can do what they want here and these poor bastards don’t matter. But now they’re fighting back. Fidel took a stand against the mob bosses-- gangsterismo he calls it--and he’s kept them at arm’s length. That’s made him a national hero everywhere but the yacht club and the Tropicana.”
“But the rebels can’t win?”
“I wouldn’t count on it. A few months ago the United States government withdrew its support for Batista and embargoed a large shipment of weapons. They can’t get tanks or rockets anymore, so every one the rebels destroy can’t be replaced. Fidel’s barbudas are well organized, and they know what they’re fighting for.”
“But the newspapers say he’s winning.”
“That’s because Batista controls the newspapers.”
“So Fidel could be our next president?”
“Possibly.”
“And these people here think he can change things?”
“Oh, he’ll change things all right. I’ve talked to him and his brother and guys like Che-- they’re all crazy. What difference will they make down here in the barrios ? Not much, that’s my guess. People here think Fidel will give them a piece of the action but he won’t. They’ll still be poor, same as before. There just won’t be any rich.”
“Papi still tells me everything’s going to be all right, that it will all blow over.”
“Well of course he does, he’s trying to protect you. He doesn’t want you to worry, so he lies to stop you from getting hurt, same as you lie to him. Isn’t that right?”
I wanted to get out of there. I saw a rat scuttle into the shadows. Then right there on the cobblestones I saw a smear of chicken blood, a beaded necklace, the stub of a cigar. There was a little black doll lying beside it.
“Voodoo,” Reyes said.
A group of men started following us down the street.
“Are we safe here?” I asked him.
He drew back the jacket of his tailored white suit and showed me the Smith and Wesson revolver tucked into the waistband of his pants. “Pretty safe,” he said.
“Do you always carry a gun?”
“Always.”
“They say you killed a man in Miami.”
“I killed two. Which time are we talking about?”
She looked up at him. He was serious.
“Look, princess, everything you hear about me is true, even the things they make up. But I’ll tell you this. I don’t hurt anyone unless they try to hurt me. But whatever anyone’s said about me, I don’t care, because whatever it is, it’s never that far wrong.”
“My father doesn’t like me even talking to you.”
“If I were your father I’d tell you the same thing. I’ll never be good for your reputation.” He stopped, drew on his cheroot, and took the revolver out of his waistband. He turned around and levelled it at the men behind us. They scattered. He put it back in his waistband and kept walking as if nothing had happened. “You don’t fit here, do you, princess? In Havana, I mean. You’re daddy’s little girl, but you’re also passionate and hot-blooded.
Similar Books
