Havana Jazz Club

by Mariné, Lola

  She needed time to adjust to so many changes, to get used to married life and learn how to take care of herself and her husband without the protective shadow of their parents. When she had imagined married life with Orlando, she had always pictured it in Old Havana, in a house near her family, in the neighborhood she knew so well amid the streets that had seen her grow up. Maybe they could take a trip to New York someday and bring her mother with them. She didn’t even want to go to the United States forever: maybe just a brief stint so she could earn her fortune and Celia could scratch the itch that had been bothering her for so long. Then they would return to her beloved island, and she would start her own family. She wanted her children to be born in Cuba, for them to run around the same streets she had grown up on and enjoy their grandparents’ love. She loved the island, she had been very happy there, surrounded by her own people. Spain was a remote and strange place that she knew almost nothing about, except that it was on the other side of the world.

  Dawn surprised the silent tears trickling down her cheeks and soaking the pillow. The first ray of sun made her husband’s blond hair sparkle, and she smiled, seized by love. He was her sun god, and she shimmered with light only under his influence. She needed him to feel alive. She needed his breath to be able to breathe. Without him at her side, without his heat, she felt she would perish, that she would wither away like the white ginger lilies that had adorned her bridal bouquet. Though she felt torn up inside and knew that a piece of her soul would always be left behind on her beloved island, she had no doubt that her destiny was to follow this man wherever he went.

  CHAPTER 5

  In the days following the wedding, Orlando filled Billie in on the details of their departure for Spain. There were still a few issues to resolve, but he was in negotiations with someone who would facilitate their exit from the island. They would go to Miami first, and fly to Europe from there. The most important thing, Orlando repeated over and over again, was that they not tell anyone about their plans, not even her family. The smallest indiscretion could mean exile to an agricultural labor camp for an unspecified period of time, probably years—if they got released at all. They could even be sent to prison for trying to leave the country illegally.

  Billie was scared. She had heard of people who had taken to the sea on shoddy rafts. Some were never heard from again, the rafts of others appeared adrift and empty on the ocean, and still others were discovered by the coast guard and imprisoned.

  “They say lots of things, my love,” Orlando objected, downplaying her fears. “In many cases, it’s the government itself who spreads these rumors just to discourage people from trying to leave. But you know as well as I do that lots of people manage to get to the United States safe and sound. You’ve seen them, just like I have, when they come back to visit their families loaded down with gifts and a little moola for their relatives here. They stay in the best hotels, eat in the finest restaurants, and shop in the stores that we’re banned from. Who are the gusanos here? Them or us? I have no doubt about the answer, little mami, and I want to get out of this shit hole forever.”

  As Orlando raised his voice, excited by his own speech, Billie kept her eyes down, reduced to an intimidated silence. Orlando sat down next to her and smiled, trying to calm her fears. He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her sweetly, and continued in a less strident tone.

  “Don’t worry about a thing, my queen. I’m arranging everything so that we can leave safely without taking any risks. How could I put my beautiful esposa in danger?”

  Billie smiled without much conviction and nestled into his arms.

  “But we’re fine here,” she insisted. “You know how to arrange it so that we won’t have to do without. We can be happy in Cuba, the way we have been until now.”

  “Wouldn’t you like a better life for our children?” Orlando argued a little impatiently. “Do you want them to suffer the same deprivations we have since we were kids? You want them to live their whole lives on rice and beans?”

  “I was happy with what I had. My parents—”

  “Enough already, woman!” he exclaimed, now unable to contain his irritation. “If you don’t want to go because you’re afraid, I’ll go by myself. I’m not going to make you come with me! I married you because I thought we had the same vision. You wanted to be a famous singer, to succeed in America, and make your mother’s dream come true by bringing her to the United States.”

  “Yes, but Spain …”

  “I have to go to Spain because I promised my grandfather on his deathbed that I would go,” Orlando said dramatically, taking her hands in his and looking her in the eyes with a crestfallen expression.

  “Fine, my love,” Billie gave in. “I’ll go with you wherever you go.”

  Despite Orlando’s warning, Billie was very tempted on more than one occasion to tell her mother everything. She needed to speak with someone, to share this secret that made her so anxious. She needed someone to calm her down and tell her that their plan wasn’t insane. It was true that in those days many Cubans were abandoning the island for all kinds of reasons. Even her own mother had dreamed her whole life of going to New York. But whenever Billie was on the verge of telling her, she grew paralyzed with fear. She had no doubt her mother would stay silent if she asked her to, but she understood that it would give her mother a new and serious reason to worry. It was her only daughter’s future, and Spain was very far away. Billie had to consider that her mother might try to convince her to stay. It might cause them to argue, and the last thing she wanted was to leave her mother with memories of fighting.

  Billie was afraid, too, that if she told her mother, Celia might share her anxiety about her daughter’s plans with her husband, and then it would all fall apart. Her father would undoubtedly emphatically oppose it, and she knew he would be capable of locking her in her room, if he thought it necessary. Orlando always said that the only way to be sure a secret won’t get out is to keep it inside you, and he was right. Billie knew that her husband had put all his hopes for the future on this trip, and he would be furious if she destroyed it. She was sure he would divorce her for ruining his opportunity to leave. The very thought terrified her. She knew she wouldn’t survive without her love.

  So, after a great deal of torment and consideration, she decided to stay silent.

  If there was one thing Billie was sure of it was that her place was beside her husband, and nothing and nobody could persuade her otherwise. Although leaving her family and her beloved Cuba would break her heart, she knew that Orlando’s mind was made up and that he would go with or without her. He was excited about their plans, and when they were alone, he talked about nothing but the trip ahead—everything they would do in Spain, the places they would visit, the fabulous life they would enjoy.

  Whenever she spent the evening with her happy, trusting family, she despised herself. They were as affectionate as always, making plans for the future without imagining for a second that she was soon going to flee like a thief in the night, with no explanation, that she was about to betray all the trust and love they had bestowed on her all her life.

  But then some time passed, and Orlando stopped talking about their impending departure. Billie thought maybe he had given up, but she didn’t want to ask him about it. She almost forgot about it after a while. Life went on. She visited her parents and took care of her own home, which she organized painstakingly to please her husband. Orlando was gone a lot. He claimed his job and his businesses kept him very busy, even on the all-too-frequent nights when he came home late. Billie didn’t scold him. She didn’t want to anger him since he was working so hard to make sure that she wouldn’t lack for anything. She wanted to tell him that she could get by with less if it meant more time by his side, but she let it go. She also didn’t tell him that she had seen him more than once with that woman, the older blonde who left the wedding in a huff. Valeria, people said her name was. She knew that he would have some plausible explanation, that he would say she wa
s his colleague or a trusted friend. And that’s what Billie would rather believe.

  What did make her sad, however, were the lengths Orlando went to make sure she didn’t get pregnant. He interrogated her regularly about her cycle and made sure not to have sex with her on the “dangerous” days. It wasn’t the appropriate moment to bring children into the world, he would say. It was better to wait. They were very young and still had plenty of time for all that. And although Billie wanted to become a mother more than anything, she kept her mouth shut.

  CHAPTER 6

  One night, Orlando came home early, wild with excitement. He lifted Billie up and spun her around, delirious with joy.

  “Finally, my love! We’re going to Spain!”

  Billie’s heart stopped, and she looked at him wide eyed.

  “How? When? I thought …”

  “In three days. Everything’s ready. There will be no moon, and the sea will be calm. We won’t have any trouble. I promise I’ll take care of you, my love.”

  “But …”

  Billie was terrified. Orlando pulled her away from his chest to scrutinize her.

  “What’s going on?” he asked suspiciously. “You’re not going to leave me hanging, are you?”

  “No … I …” Billie stammered.

  “Don’t be afraid, my love,” he said embracing her again. “We’re going on a big, safe boat. Don’t go thinking it’s one of those rafts that fall apart as soon as they get into open water. We worked hard to find one, and it cost us a lot of money, but it will get us where we need to go without delay. We’ll be traveling with very experienced people who know exactly what they’re doing and won’t let anything bad happen to us. You trust me, don’t you?”

  Billie nodded with tears in her eyes. She couldn’t stay behind now.

  Three nights later, she had dinner at her parents’ house without her husband. She excused him, saying he was busy with work.

  During dinner, her brothers joked about married women, making insinuations about the conjugal duties of the youngest in the family, causing Billie to blush. Though her father appeared to be enjoying the jokes, Celia didn’t join in the merriment. She watched her daughter out of the corner of her eye, unable to ignore the needle of anxiety pressing into her heart. She thought the girl seemed restless, prisoner of a deep anxiety that even laughter and her brothers’ cheeky comments couldn’t hide. Though Billie’s mouth laughed, her eyes looked frightened and incredibly sad.

  Billie helped her mother clear the table and wash the dishes, answering her questions distractedly in monosyllables, never looking her in the eye. Celia even thought she saw her brush away a rebellious tear that slipped down her cheek.

  “Is everything okay, sweetie?” she dared to ask.

  “Of course, Mami!” she replied, sounding falsely casual.

  Billie couldn’t stop herself from glancing several times at the kitchen clock. She dried her hands on a towel and poured a glass of rum for her father.

  “I have to go,” she announced to her mother before leaving the kitchen. “Orlando’s waiting for me.”

  “Billie …” Celia stopped her with a hand on the girl’s arm and looked into her eyes. “If something was going on, you’d tell me, right? You know you can always count on me.”

  “I know, Mamita,” Billie said, avoiding her gaze. “Don’t worry. Everything’s fine.”

  She took the glass to her father and announced to the family that she had to go.

  Before she left, she tugged on Eduardo’s collar, the eldest of her brothers, and hugged him and kissed him so hard it caught him off guard. He smiled, stuck somewhere between sarcasm and surprise, since their good-byes usually consisted of nothing more than a casual “see you later.”

  When she tried to do the same with her brother Rubén, he dodged her, laughing.

  “Hey! What’s up with you—you feeling a little loopy?”

  Their mother, passing behind him, gave him a smack on the nape of the neck.

  “Give your sister a hug, boy!”

  The boy obeyed, and took Billie in his arms, still laughing a little.

  “Oh, little sis! Ever since you got hitched, you’ve gone all sentimental,” he teased her lovingly.

  “Behave, Rubencito,” she demanded, kissing him affectionately. “You’re a blockhead.”

  She drew closer to her father, who was smoking in his favorite chair while he listened to the news on the radio, and leaned down over him.

  “Good-bye, dear Papito,” she said stroking his face tenderly.

  “Good-bye, sweet pea,” he replied without looking up. He distractedly took the palm of her hand and deposited a kiss on it. “See you tomorrow.”

  Celia put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and walked her to the door in silence. Once they were there, out of view of the rest of the family, she looked intensely into her daughter’s eyes for a long moment, and they hugged fiercely, as if they wanted to melt into each other.

  “Take good care of yourself, my daughter,” Celia said holding in her emotions.

  “I love you, Mami,” Billie muttered, on the verge of tears. “I love you all so much. Never forget that, please.”

  “We love you too, my darling. We’ll always be with you …”

  She pulled out of her mother’s embrace and rushed out of the house.

  The pain that Billie had been holding in burst into an uncontrollable moan as soon as she stepped into the street. Tears flooded down her cheeks, and she could barely see the path. She started to run, not looking back until she found refuge in Orlando’s arms. He was waiting impatiently in the place they had agreed to meet with his friend who would take them to the beach in his car.

  He pulled her gently away from his body so he could look her in the eye.

  “You didn’t say anything, right?” he asked anxiously, drying her face with his handkerchief. “Nobody can know.”

  Billie shook her head, sobbing uncontrollably. The boy let out a sigh of relief and embraced her tenderly, kissing her cheeks and stroking her hair in an effort to console her.

  “It’s okay, my love. It’s done. You can write to them soon.”

  They made the trip to the beach in silence. They held on to each other, but Billie couldn’t stop sobbing.

  When they got to the drop-off point, the friend stopped the car. As they got out, he bid them a rushed good-bye, then screeched out of sight. Orlando took Billie’s hand, and they walked down toward the dark, silent sea.

  “Is everything okay, compadre?” A stranger’s rough, unfamiliar voice startled them.

  “Everything’s okay,” Orlando responded, as if it were some kind of password.

  Only then did Billie make out what seemed to be the enormous silhouette of a barge looming behind the stranger submerged in the shadows. Despite her fears, she breathed a little easier. Orlando hadn’t lied to her: They weren’t traveling on a cobbled-together raft. This was a real boat.

  “Hurry up,” the stranger said. “The patrol’s going to pass by again soon.”

  As Orlando helped Billie aboard, she saw there were more people inside. She couldn’t tell exactly how many. All men. They greeted each other with a slight nod. She could barely see their faces. They settled down on what looked like leather seats, and Orlando kissed her and smiled, holding her the whole time.

  “Everything is going as planned, my love. Don’t worry.”

  Billie clung to him fiercely, her head nestled on his chest. She listened to the soft rumble of a motor and realized that the boat was moving. The lights of Havana grew distant, getting smaller and smaller until they were reduced to twinkling points of color that eventually vanished into the darkness. The entire island had disappeared from view, and all she could see was the blackness of the sea and the sky. There was no point of reference, just the sound of the waves. In the boat, the silence was overwhelming. Nobody moved. No one uttered a single word. It was like being immersed in a nightmare.

  “Take this,” Orlando whispe
red to her, slipping something into her mouth. Then he offered her a little water. “It’s a sedative. It’ll help you rest.”

  She took a sip and swallowed the pill. She burrowed into her husband’s arms and closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER 7

  She was awoken by a bright light pushing through her eyelids. When she opened her eyes, an enormous yellow sphere blinded her with its light. It was the most gigantic sun she had ever seen in her life, like a huge ball of fire floating over the sea.

  “Are you awake, my love?” Orlando appeared, smiling, and offered her a plastic cup of condensed milk dissolved in water, and some cookies. “Come out here, my love. It’s not too hot yet, and a little fresh air will do you good.”

  Billie obeyed. Her body was stiff, and her bones ached. The men greeted her and made room for her to sit. They seemed relaxed. Some were having the same breakfast that she was, while others were smoking cigarettes and conversing in low voices, even joking around. Billie realized then that what in the darkness had looked like a boat was actually the body of a truck covered by coarse fabric and roped to some boards, which had been tethered to several huge oil drums that were now bobbing along under the vessel.

  She looked at Orlando apprehensively, but he smiled at her soothingly. All around them was water, unending blue water on every side. The immense sea made her feel tiny, defenseless.

  As the sun rose, it started to get hot. Billie stood up suddenly and went over to her husband, her anxiety and pain reflected on her face.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I need … you know …” she whispered into his ear.

  Orlando let out a cackle that made Billie turn scarlet. She turned toward the other men, ashamed, but nobody seemed to be paying attention. He took her by the hand and led her to the back of the truck. There he handed her a large jug that had been cut in half.