Havana Jazz Club (4 page)

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 whispered 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.

“Don’t sit down,” he warned her. “Just squat. We’ll clean it in the ocean water after.”

He held up a sheet so no one could see and waited. Billie had never felt so humiliated in her whole life, but she couldn’t hold it any longer. Afterward, Orlando took the container, tossed its contents into the sea, rinsed it, washed his hands, and smiled at his wife.

“You’ll see, my love,” he said, winking. “One day we’ll be using gold-plated bathrooms, and we’ll laugh at this.”

The day passed slowly in the suffocating heat, but they were making headway. In the hottest hours, the men took turns protecting themselves from the sun under the tarp draped over the truck, but they let Billie stay under it as much as she wanted. At dusk, they spotted a raft crammed with people, some of whom were children. They all greeted each other from afar, waving their arms jubilantly, wishing each other luck. They soon left the raft behind and lost them from sight when darkness fell. The sea was rougher than the night before, and the boat rocked in a worrying way. Billie was afraid, but the men stayed calm, and Orlando took care of her with commendable solicitude. He offered her another pill and tied her to the truck seat with a piece of cloth.

“That way you won’t tumble out if the sea gets grumpy,” he explained, with a teasing smile. Billie wasn’t sure whether he was serious or joking. He lifted her chin with two fingers and kissed her on the lips. “Calm down, my heaven. I’ll look after you.”

Dozing from the sedative but conscious of everything going on around her, she had a terrible night, tossed relentlessly between reality and dreams. The vessel was lurching in a terrifying way. Sometimes it seemed to fly into the air and land roughly on the black waters with a stiff, frightening slap. Billie was afraid that at any moment the improvised ship could fall to pieces. She thought about the little raft they had passed, about the women and children traveling on it. It was impossible to believe that they could survive the storm, and her heart clenched. Would they make it? The men were shouting, and she struggled to open her eyes. Orlando wasn’t at her side, and she wanted to call to him, but her voice stuck in her throat. She tried to go find him, but her body wouldn’t obey. Then she heard them scream: “Sharks!” After that, silence.

“Wake up, Billie!” Orlando was shaking her impatiently. “We’re almost there! Look! America!”

Billie opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was Orlando’s face, wrecked by exhaustion but happy. Behind him, she made out a strip of land.

“That’s America?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yes, my love!” he exclaimed, embracing her. “They’ll drop us off on a beach where there’s no guard, and a friend will pick us up and take us to Miami.”

They left the inside of the truck. All the men were looking at the coast expectantly, but they didn’t look all that happy.

“What’s going on with them?” Billie asked, finding their somber demeanor strange.

Orlando looked down sorrowfully.

“We lost a man last night,” he said. “He fell into the sea.”

“Ay! Our Lady of Charity!” Billie exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hands. “And you couldn’t rescue him?”

“It was impossible. We couldn’t see anything. Only the shark fins circling the boat. It would have been suicide to jump in and look for him.”

“Poor man!” Billie exclaimed. “Did the sharks eat him?”

“Most likely. If not, he probably drowned.”

“That’s horrible!” she sobbed, hugging her husband.

“Okay, my love, calm down,” he said. “Everyone knows what they’re risking when they make this trip. We’re okay, and we’ll soon be able to put all this behind us.”

After disembarking, they spent a few days in Miami at Orlando’s friend’s house, just enough time to recover from the trip and buy a few things, including plane tickets. Orlando was afraid Billie would like the city so much that she wouldn’t want to continue on to Spain. She was dazzled by the stores, the hotels, the restaurants, the cafés, the beautiful dresses, the jewels, the cars, the locals’ friendliness, and the easy, relaxed atmosphere. She felt at home in Little Havana, surrounded by Cubans, speaking her own language, inhaling the strong aroma of Cuban coffee at all hours. There was only one difference—one she couldn’t put her finger on at first because it was a strange sensation—she was breathing freedom.

During the long flight to Spain, once she had recovered from the exhaustion and emotional upheaval of the last few days, Billie was filled with sadness. She couldn’t get the image of her father out of her head—the way he had been sitting in his armchair, depositing a kiss on the palm of her hand, and saying good-bye with a confident “see you tomorrow.” How long would that “tomorrow” take to arrive? She knew her father would be distraught when he found out that she and her husband had fled. Celia would be the one to break the news, enduring not only the pain of losing her daughter but also the uncertainty of not knowing if she would ever see her again. Because she knew her mother knew that she was leaving when she said good-bye to her at the door of her house that night—when she hugged her like that and told her that she loved her, that they all loved her, and they would always be by her side “even if you’re far away, it goes without saying.” Her heart must have been bursting as she watched her leave, unable to stop her. Billie erupted into tears whenever she thought about it, and Orlando consoled her with infinite patience.

“We’ll be back much sooner than you think, my love,” he said to calm her down. “You’ll see.”

And Billie clung to that promise with all her strength, snuggling into her husband’s arms and trying to hold fast to the dreams that moved him. Though she didn’t understand them all, she thought that if she believed in his dreams, the sooner they would come true, and the sooner that happened, the sooner they could return to Cuba. She trusted it wouldn’t be too long before she could hug her own dreams again.