Tortuga (31 page)

“Salomón … it's me.”

Then barely in a whisper I heard Salomón's voice flutter alive, like one of his unfolding spring butterflies …

Ah, Tortuga, I'm so glad to see you. I see you've come walking like a man … I'm happy for you my friend, my comrade. And what is that slung around your shoulder? Could it be the blue guitar? Has it come … has it come at last? That means Crispín is dead … passed into another form of this vast drama we are weaving … But he left you the guitar. He sang his time on earth and now it's your turn. Oh, how can we be sad when a man passes away but leaves us so much of his life … leaves another to take up his place. Now it's your turn to sing, Tortuga. My heart is full of joy that this has come to pass!

Relieved that he had spoken, my anger flared anew. “I don't know what you mean by all this nonsense!” I shouted. “I don't want to be this singer you keep talking about! I didn't ask to be brought to this damned prison and I didn't ask for Crispín to send me the guitar! Don't you see I'm tired of all the suffering and pain I've seen! I only want to get out of here …” I sobbed. The impotency I felt made me shudder. Blind rage suddenly overwhelmed me and without thinking I unslung the blue guitar and sent it crashing against the wall.

“There are your damn songs!” I shouted. “You sing them! Or find somebody else to sing them! I'm tired of playing your games! I want my own freedom!” I slumped into a chair by the bed and sobbed. The echo of the crash reverbrated around me; the sad, harsh notes of the violated guitar echoed in the ward. I knew the vegetables were listening, holding their breath and listening. I didn't care. I was tired, tired of everything that I had seen. I only wanted to forget the pain of my past, and yet I knew I couldn't. And I knew that no one else could do what I had to do. The questions would always be there to haunt us. New cripples would find their way into the desolation of the vegetable patch, and they would keep raising the question over and over … until someone answered it, or until we knew in our hearts that it was not by design that we suffered. I was just one of those persons at a particular place in time who had asked himself the question … there had been others before me; there would be others after me. Destiny had suddenly converged on me and illumined my path. My rage and my anger would pass, Salomón knew that, and then I would take up the load again.

Tortuga, I know it's a long journey … and we don't know why we're chosen to walk the path of the sun … but we do know that it's our destiny to walk in the light and to leave the dark shadows. It's a road of suffering and pain, but we can bear it now
…
we're not alone anymore
…
there's no whimpering and crying anymore. You've felt the roots of sadness, my friend, you've seen the mountain's heart … you walked through the halls of the orphans and the cripples of this life … and you held us in your arms and offered us love … Oh, we sang with joy when you offered us your love! Our pain and suffering had meaning in your heart! We're not concerned with why we're here anymore … All that's behind us. Now is the time for singing and rejoicing! Now is the time to dip into the electric acid of life and burn our souls with its joy! Don't you see, my friend, you're the one hope that the darkness will never cover us completely! Even battered, crippled men will follow the path of the sun … bathe in its light … sing its songs … Oh, Tortuga, don't be angry with me today … not today …

Suffering without redemption, I thought, oh what a hellish place we've been cast into … and yet his voice could still echo with joy … Why? What inner strength had he found that eluded me? I looked at his thin, withered body. Of all of us he had suffered the most. Time had suspended him in this cruel plane, and instead of begging and whimpering he had cast off his past, he had dared to become a new man … and he had reached out and helped the other cripples around him. Perhaps he didn't know it, but he had gone beyond those heroes he talked about, even in this ward of hell he had dared to question the gods and the ways of men …

I cursed myself for complaining. I, who was ready to leave the hospital, I had so little to give in return. I had suffered, but for such a short while, and he, he had suffered the weight of eternity …

His eyes were closed; he hardly seemed to breathe. Quietly, so as not to awaken him, I picked up the blue guitar and caressed it tenderly. I ran my fingers along the string and they vibrated with golden strands of sound. All right, I said to Salomón, I'll sing you a song … there is much to sing about. I want to sing about going home, and about returning for Ismelda and her love, and I want to sing about climbing the mountain, and about walking through the dark halls of the cripples … oh, there are so many things that lie so heavy on my soul that must be sung. So I strummed a chord and sang my song:

I'm going home …

To keep the promise of the spring

To see the friends I left behind …

I've wandered far …

Far beyond my land of birth

Into deserts full of pain

Into a darkness without end …

I've got to sing!

A song of love I left behind

Of the journey of the sun

And the love and death it brings

I've got to sing!

Of the desert that I crossed

Of the pain that I have felt

And the love that made me well …

I'm not afraid!

To shout my song across the land!

To the orphans of our love!

To the cripples that lie bare

On the desert of this life!

I'll sing this song!

Of the rising of the sun

And the journey I must run

And the love that I will bring …

The words kept tumbling out, jumbled, full of pain, stumbling to convey what I felt, filling me with relief while I sang and releasing my soul from its shell. I didn't know how to sing, but I would do it, I would do it for Salomón and Mike and Jerry and all the poor vegetables who lay listening to my song. I was glad Crispín had sent me the guitar, with time I would learn to handle its responsibility. That's all I needed, time and practice, like Ronco said. But I swore that I would learn to draw the soul out of the blue guitar and learn to sing.

I looked up. A smile played on Salomón's lips. The room was very still. The figure at the bedside was gone and the room had grown dark. I got up quietly and looked at Salomón for a long time, then I leaned over and kissed him. His lips were cold; his breath was still. I wanted to say goodbye to him, but I couldn't. The words choked in my throat. I knew that I would never see him again, but that didn't matter, because I would be taking him with me … I would be taking all of them with me, in my heart, in memories that were to awaken in the future and call me to sing. That's the part of the song which wasn't complete yet, because I knew I would be awakening on many a night, and the rustle of the wind or the fragrance in the breeze would remind me of this love I had shared with them and I would be condemned to go to the guitar and continue the song, continue finding the verses until the entire story was told. Someplace the song would say that we never said goodbye because as long as we dreamed and remembered nothing was lost … they would all be crossing the desert with me, helping me find my way back home.

I turned quietly and walked away. I stopped at the door which led to the dark rooms, the ward where I had gotten sick at the sight of so much suffering. Now I opened the door and stepped in. The endless rows of iron lungs and respirators were silent. I walked softly down the aisle, looking at the bits of curled life which rested in each machine. I knew they had heard my song. That was why it was so peaceful here in the dusk, they knew I was not afraid now. I held the tears back, I was not supposed to cry for them, I was supposed to sing and laugh with them, but I couldn't help thinking about Salomón lying so quiet and peaceful in his dark room.

23

When I returned to the ward the grapevine was alive with the rumor that Dr. Steel was going to release me.

“Dr. Steel wants to see you,” somebody whispered.

“You're going home, Tortuga, going home!”

“You're a free man!”

I nodded, and I smiled, but the news of my release and its sudden elation was mixed with the sad feeling I had felt as I sang my song for Salomón … I knew then the song wasn't complete, that there were more sad verses to be sung.

I found Steel reading charts in the nurses' station. As usual, he was working late. He looked up over the rim of the glasses he used for reading.

“You want to see me,” I said.

“How do the crutches feel?” he asked.

“Fine, but I think I could get along without them.” I settled into a chair. I felt tired and weak, and in the pit of my stomach I felt sick. The weight of the afternoon settled heavily on my shoulders.

“Tired?” Steel asked. I nodded. “Keep the crutches awhile,” he said. “You know most of the kids throw them away as soon as they get out of here. That desert is strewn with cast-off crutches and braces—can't say I blame them. Hey, is that the guitar I've heard so much about?”

I knew the kids had already told him about it. I unslung it and handed it to him. He took it and looked at it, turning it tenderly.

“It's a beautiful thing,” he nodded and handed it back to me. “It must have meant a lot to the man who gave it to you.” He took his pipe from the desk and filled it. He only played with it and sucked on it when he was nervous. “The x-rays I took yesterday are fine,” he said. “I had your release papers typed today, so you can go anytime you want. Tomorrow, day after … the driver goes down town in the morning to pick up the mail and he can drop you off at the bus depot—” his voice trailed. “The nurse will help you get ready, pack anything you have to—” He stood up. He was no longer the young doctor I had met the day I arrived; he looked old and tired. He worked twenty-four hours a day, slept in a small room by the surgery rooms, was always on call, had to train the new doctors and put up with the administrator and the Committee … and he had to cut us up, glue us together with steel pins and braces. He saw us learn to feed ourselves and walk and then leave, and he remained. I wondered what penance he was doing, but I didn't ask. He had chosen to do what he had to do. There was no use thinking about it any other way.

“This is the only thing I'll be taking with me,” I said and patted the guitar.

“It's a precious gift to be traveling with,” he nodded. He picked up the charts to complete his late round, then he put them back on the desk.

“Are you going to see Salomón?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I'm tired,” he said, “I think I need a rest—” I watched him walk up the hall. It was better this way, I thought. Steel knew what happened in the ward as well as anyone, and it was better this way.

I went back to the room and when I entered someone flipped on the lights and a loud cheer went up. Everybody knew I had gotten my walking papers.

“Damn Tortuga!” Mike grabbed me and hugged me, “You're a free man! A free man!”

“Congratulations,” Ronco smiled.

“Hey! We oughta have a party for him!” Buck cried out, twirled his rope and sent it snaking out to loop his chair.

“Damn right!” Mike agreed.

“I'll fix some drinks!” Ronco clapped his hands, “some of my specials—”

“Oh damn, not the orange juice and shaving lotion again,” Buck groaned, “you know that stuff gives me the runs.”

“Let's do something different, I mean really great for Torruga!” Mike said and put his arm around my shoulder. I think he suspected that I had been to see Salomón.

“Oh boy, Mike's thinking!” Ronco laughed.

“What?”

“How about a swimming party,” Mike whispered, “after lights go out.”

“Hey, all right!” Ronco nodded. “We can pick the lock to the pool easily—”

“And we can invite some of the girls!” Buck cried. “I can hardly wait to see my mamacita in a bikini!” He smacked his lips.

“She won't need one,” Mike said.

“Hey, whad you mean?”

“Why man, if we're going to swim in the dark we don't need bathing suits!”

“That's right!” Ronco shouted hoarsely. “Great idea! Everybody goes nudey! Ajúa!” He grabbed Mikes chair and spun it around.

Root-too-toot!

Root-too-toot!

We're the boys of the institute!

We love to swim, in our raw skin

And we love the girls that …

“… That aren't too thin!” Buck finished the improvisation.

“Right!” Mike slapped him. “Give me one that I can get ahold of! A mamasota that's got a lot of security to her!”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Buck balked. “I'm not going to have my Rosita runnin' around naked in front of a bunch of horney bastards! No way! Besides, I love that girl—” He got serious. “I respect her, and I'm goin' to marry her someday—”

“Buck, it's dark in the pool! Nobody's going to run around rapeing girls for-crying-out-loud!”

“Yeah, no messin' around, except what you want to do,” Ronco nudged him in the ribs.

“Yeah, it's just what you want to do,” Mike said.

“Yeah?” Buck thought aloud.

“Yeah.”

A slow grin spread across Buck's face. Then he smiled. He grabbed his hat and threw it in the air. “Yahoooo! Let's go! I'm ready podnars!”

“Great! Great!” Mike nodded and they got to discussing the plan of action. I turned to Danny who had been standing quietly by the door. “Why don't you come with us, Danny, it'll be good for you.”