Havana Bay (35 page)

"A dozen times. Jesus, that was a long time ago."

"Did you gamble?"

"I'm like you, I don't like to lose. Mostly, I admired
the operation. You know who I pointed out to my wife? I pointed out Jack Kennedy. He had a peroxide blonde
on one arm and a sultry
mulata on
the other. During
the missile crisis I wondered if Jack ever thought back
to that night."

"There were other casinos, too," Walls said.

"Deauville, Sans Souci, Montmartre, Tropicana," said
O'Brien.» The Mafia's great plan was to tear down
Havana and rebuild it, make it completely modern and
create a triangle of tourism between Miami, Havana
and the Yucatan, an international zone of prosperity. That's what the Revolution stopped, not that the Revo
lution wasn't overdue but, economically, Cuba lost forty
years."

"That's your plan, to reopen old casinos?"

"No," O'Brien said, "still too many hard feelings.
Anyway, the Havana Yacht Club and Casino can be ten
times bigger than any of these."

"You're ambitious."

"Aren't you?" Walls asked.» The Cold War's over. I was
a hero in that war and look what it got me. Marooned."

"What kind of life is Moscow?" said O'Brien.» Wake
up. You have sailed into Paradise and you're about to
sail out. Don't do it. Stay here and work for us."

"Work for you? Take Pribluda's place?"

"Like that," said Walls.

"Why is it that I can't take this offer seriously?"

"Because you're suspicious," said O'Brien.» It's the
Russian attitude. You have to be positive. Every million
aire I ever met was an optimist. Every down-and-outer
expects the worst. It's a new world, Arkady, why not
plan big?"

"You would share your Cuban gold mine with a man
you'd never met before?"

"But I've met your type before. You're the man at
the end of the pier, who's either going to jump in the
water or change his life." O'Brien's eyes glowed with ... what? Arkady wondered. The showmanship of a sales
man or the zeal of a priest, all his efforts bent to one
moment of plausibility for this thoroughly ridiculous
proposition.» Change it. Give yourself a chance."

"How?"

"As a partner."

"A partner? This gets better all the time."

"But partnership demands trust," O'Brien said.» You
understand what trust is, don't you, Arkady?"

"Yes."

"But you won't show it. For two days I've been
waiting for you to be as open with George and me as
we have been with you. Please don't piss on my back
and tell me it's raining. Don't tell me about an old map.
Sergeant Luna told us about the picture of the Havana
Yacht Club. We know about it. A picture of a dead
Russian at the Havana Yacht Club is exactly what we
don't need now."

"John would feel better if he had it," Walls said.

"If I had it I wouldn't have to worry about it.
And I'd know that you had extended your trust to us the way we have with you. Can you do that, Arkady,
and trust me with that picture?" O'Brien put out his
hand.

Arkady felt the envelope with the photograph sticking
to his back.» I don't know about business partnerships,
I've always worked directly for the state. But what about
this? If I accept your proposition and work for a year
and have a villa and boat and a satisfying social life, at that point I will give you the photograph. Until then it's
safe because we will be, as you say, partners."

"Are you hearing this?" Walls asked.» The mother is bargaining."

"Resisting." John O'Brien let his hand drop. He
looked his age, suddenly a little spent, silver hair sticking
to temples that were wet like sweat on the edge of
greasepaint, like an actor who passionately acted a play
for a dull, deaf audience.» Because you're Russian,
Arkady, I'll make allowances. This is a new way of thinking for you, being part of a plan."

"Remind me, what part would I be?" Arkady asked.

"Security. George told you, in case any Mafia does show up."

"I'd have to think about this. I'm not sure I'm that
tough."

"That's okay," Walls said.» People think you are."

"Appearances go a long way," O'Brien said.» I'll tell
you why the Capri is my favorite casino. You know, the
Mafia hired an actor, George Raft, to front for the
Capri. Raft acted a gangster so many times people
thought he was. He thought he was. Comes the night of the Revolution crowds start looting casinos. One mob
heads for the Capri. Who goes out on the steps but Raft
himself and says in his gangster voice, 'No punks are busting up my casino.' And they went away. He chased
them. America's last stand."

 
Chapter Nineteen

 
The bodega was a warehouse with the dimmest light in
Havana, and the fact that the lines were short and Ofelia was going to do the mule's work of carrying a sack of
Vietnamese rice and a tin of cooking oil did nothing to
improve her mother's mood.

"You either come home late or you don't come
home at all. Who is this man?"

"He's not a man," Ofelia said.

"He's not a man?" Her mother amplified her won
derment to include as many people as possible in the
conversation.

"Not a man like that."

"Like the musicians? Great husbands. Where is the
last one, massaging Swedes in Cayo Largo?"

"I came home last night. Everything is okay."

"Everything is wonderful. Here I am with the world's
greatest work of fiction." She slapped her ration book.»
What could be belter? To know why you come home
so late?"

"It's a police matter."

"With a Russian!
Hija,
maybe you haven't heard, the
Russian boat has sailed. Gone. How did you even find
one? I'd love to see this stranded Lothario."

"Mama," Ofelia begged.

"Oh, you're in your uniform, you're embarrassed to
be seen with me. I can wait in line all day so you can
run around and make the world safe for..." She
indicated a beard.

"We're almost there." Ofelia fixed her eye on the
counter.

"We're almost nowhere. This is nowhere,
hija.
Remember that boy you knew in school, the one with
the fish tank?"

"Aquarium."

"Fish tank. Nothing but dirty water and two catfish that never moved. Take a look at those clerks."

At a counter with a register and scale were two
women with whiskers who looked so much like those
catfish that it was difficult for Ofelia to keep a straight
face. There were four counters in the gloom of the
bodega, each with a chalkboard that listed goods, prices,
ration per person or family, and date available, the "date
available" clouded from many corrections.

"Tomatoes next week," Ofelia said.» That's good
news."

Her mother exploded with a laugh.» My God, I've raised an idiot. There will be no tomatoes, no evapor
ated milk, no flour and maybe no beans or rice. This is
a trap for morons.
Hija,
I know you are a brilliant
detective, but thank God you have me to shop for you."

A woman behind them hissed and warned, "I will
report this counterrevolutionary propaganda."

"Piss off," Ofelia's mother said.» I fought at Playa
Giron. Where were you? Probably waving your tits at
American bombers. I assume you had tits."

Her mother was good at shutting people up. Playa
Giron was what the rest of the world called the Bay of
Pigs. Strangely enough, she actually had been in the army and shot an invader, although now she claimed
she should have made him take her to Florida while she
had a gun on him.

"I have a question," Ofelia said.

"Please, I'm reading the board. Two cans of green
peas per family for the month. They will be delicious, I'm sure. Sugar is available. You will know the end is
near when no sugar is available."

"About pickles."

"I don't see pickles."

"Where would I find them?" The Eastern Bloc had
tried to unload bottled pickles in Cuba, but Ofelia
hadn't seen them for years.

"Not here. In the free market you buy cucumbers
and pickle them."

"Different sizes?"

"A cucumber is a cucumber. Why would anyone
want a small cucumber?" At the counter her mother
made a show of having her book properly marked and
announcing, "You know, if you live on your rations you will enjoy a very balanced diet."

"That's true," one of the clerks was stupid enough to
agree.

"Because you eat for two weeks and starve for two
weeks." Having delivered her torpedo, Ofelia's mother
turned and sailed for the exit, leaving Ofelia to follow
with the heavy sack and can of oil the length of the
bodega while everyone stared.

When they reached the street her mother stumped
toward home.

"You are impossible," Ofelia said.

"I hope so. This island is driving me crazy."

"This island is driving you crazy? You've never been
off this island."

"And it's driving me crazy. And having a daughter
who's one of
them."
Her mother had been stopped by
the police for selling homemade cosmetics door to door.
They'd let her go, of course, as soon as they learned
Detective Osorio was her daughter.» Your uncle Manny
wrote to say there is a rocking chair waiting on the
porch for me in Miami."

"With a drive-by shooting every night is what he
wrote me."

"In his new letter he says he could take Muriel and
Marisol. He says they would love South Beach. We
could all go and the girls could stay."

"We are not going to talk about this."

"They would knock Miami out. They're beautiful
girls and they're light."

That was always the insinuation her mother could twist like a knife, that Ofelia stood apart in the family
by the deeper color of her skin, that Ofelia was different
from her own daughters and, in reverse, a lifelong and

bitter disappointment to her mother. And Ofelia knew
her mother could see the red heat in her cheek.

"They're staving with me. If you want to go to
Miami, you can go."

"I'm only saying, it's a new world. It probably doesn't
involve a Russian."

Arkady had Walls and O'Brien drop him off a couple of
blocks short of the Malecon. Because he had the sense
that Luna could leap over the seawall any second with
an ice pick or machete once Arkady reached the boul
evard, he stayed in the shadows of building columns until he reached an address with the tricolored banner
of the Committee for the Defense of the Revolution,
knocked at Abuelita's door and entered.

"Come in."

Light squeezed through with him into the narrow
confines of her room, to the statue of the shrouded,
dark-skinned Virgin and her shimmering peacock
feather. Scents of cigar and sandalwood tickled his nose.
Abuelita sat before the Virgin and solemnly laid cards. Tarot? Arkady looked over the old woman's shoulder. Solitaire. Today she sported a pullover that said "New York Stock Exchange." Arkady noticed that the statue
also wore something new, a yellow necklace like
Osorio's.

"May I?"

"Go ahead." When he touched the necklace beads
Abuelita said, "In Santeria this Virgin is also the spirit
Oshun and her color is yellow, honey, gold. Oshun is a
very sexy spirit."