| HABÁNAME (Havana [Verb Transitive] Me) by Ana Ortiz Copyright © March, 2002 Ana Ortiz All Rights Reserved |
Disclaimers: Not written for profit. Several languages are used profanely. Consensual f/f eroticism.
Thanks to Prof of Xena Warrior Lesbian, and to Jessica Michallet for coming on board as beta-readers and
editorial advisors for this story. A special thanks to Old Warrior for test driving this story.
Note to readers: In previous scenes set in the United States, I used the convention of italicizing dialogue when ? in
bilingual contexts ? characters were choosing to communicate in Spanish. In scenes set in Cuba, I will be
inverting that practice: when characters opt for the use of English in dialogue, it will be italicized.
Si buscabas
un cuerpo complaciente
que soltara tus amarras,
que en tus nudos desnudara
a tu animal más inocente?
Si esperabas
un fuego tan ardiente
que encendiera tus cenizas,
que te hiciera sentir brisa
donde ya no había fuente?
Si añorabas
un corazón de refugio
donde huir de tanta gente
que te hería y te quería
para hacer feliz un día?
Si soñabas con buscar la libertad
a través de otra persona
que librara tus palomas
de las ansias de volar,
que luchara en tu trinchera
de traer la primavera?
la encontraste.
Salvador Cardenal, ?Si Buscabas? (used without permission)
Chapter Five - Tilt
Later that night La Habana Central
Chela was relieved to find that the lights were on as she cracked the door to her apartment. So, Tomás is
probably still here and the power is on as well! She had stopped at the dollar bakery before coming home
precisely so she could gift her youngest sibling ? who had a sweet tooth as strong as Barbara?s, and who she had
entrusted with the upkeep of her altar in her absence ? with his favorite honey rolls. As she stepped inside, she
felt her shoe skid on something and was barely able to keep her balance by throwing her shoulder against the near
wall. Chela looked down in dismay at the matted clumps of bloody feathers spread in an arc around the statue of
Elegba, and bit her lip to keep herself from cursing outright.
?Ki Loricha, Elegba,? she said in greeting to the Orisha, composing herself. Then speaking to no one in particular
she expounded on the source of her irritation and surprise. ?I know I told him several times that in my home
Elegba does not eat roosters,? she muttered, wiping off the bottom of her shoe on the baseboard.
?Chela,? responded a soft voice behind her, ? you know that you have been spoiling Him here ? it is not good to
get them used to human blood. What would happen if He had to go live with someone else who is not so
generous?? Chela turned, her anger already dissipating in anticipation of her brother?s embrace. When she saw
him, she dropped her packages, shocked at the sight of Tomás dressed in the white suit and cap of an iyawó ? an
adult in the process of being inducted formally into a house of Orisha. The boy, although already as tall as she,
was barely twelve years of age. How is it possible? It seems just yesterday that he was putting pepper in my
oatmeal, and stealing my bras and shoes for his ?fashion? shows. And who would train a little boy? I don?t have
the discipline to keep all the rules ? how can a child manage?
?This is a joke,? she stated numbly.
Tomás laughed, throwing back his head. ?Oh, Chela! So I have finally done something to surprise you! I hope
there was nothing that could break in those bags.?
?No,? whispered the still stunned young woman. ?I brought you some rolls ? in the smaller bag.? Tomás reached
down to pick up the treats.
?So it was for the best that they fell. I couldn?t take them from your hand now anyway.? Until the year long
period of novitiate in the santería house was ended, the boy would eschew physical contact with others, even
from the members of his blood family.
?Does Mamá know?? asked Chela quietly as she walked over to the bed and sat down. She must be out of her
mind: our family just seems to be expanding infinitely in degrees of ?social offensiveness.?
?Oh yes, she knows, Chela,? answered Tomás as he sat cross-legged on the floor before her. ?I?ve stayed here
the past few days. And tonight I will be going to stay at the house of Juan Sánchez for good? Chela,? the boy
looked down and shook his head in disbelief. ?She took me to Mazorra to see if they would hospitalize me. They
actually kept me for twenty-four hours of observation.? He laughed ruefully and looked up at her, his hazel eyes
twinkling. ?I am lucky that the conditions are so bad right now that they can?t take any more patients. You
should have seen Mamá when they told her that yes, I was a schizophrenic with the kinds of delusions common
to many blacks and Africans, but that unless I hurt someone I did not qualify for admission. She cried and cried
about how I was ruined - that I was already a ?butterfly? but now also a mad boy.?
Chela?s heart clenched at her brother?s words, as she imagined his ordeal in being taken to the psychiatric
hospital. She would have abandoned him there! And to have dwelt on what a disappointment he is to her ? he
Thanks to Prof of Xena Warrior Lesbian, and to Jessica Michallet for coming on board as beta-readers and
editorial advisors for this story. A special thanks to Old Warrior for test driving this story.
Note to readers: In previous scenes set in the United States, I used the convention of italicizing dialogue when ? in
bilingual contexts ? characters were choosing to communicate in Spanish. In scenes set in Cuba, I will be
inverting that practice: when characters opt for the use of English in dialogue, it will be italicized.
Si buscabas
un cuerpo complaciente
que soltara tus amarras,
que en tus nudos desnudara
a tu animal más inocente?
Si esperabas
un fuego tan ardiente
que encendiera tus cenizas,
que te hiciera sentir brisa
donde ya no había fuente?
Si añorabas
un corazón de refugio
donde huir de tanta gente
que te hería y te quería
para hacer feliz un día?
Si soñabas con buscar la libertad
a través de otra persona
que librara tus palomas
de las ansias de volar,
que luchara en tu trinchera
de traer la primavera?
la encontraste.
Salvador Cardenal, ?Si Buscabas? (used without permission)
Chapter Five - Tilt
Later that night La Habana Central
Chela was relieved to find that the lights were on as she cracked the door to her apartment. So, Tomás is
probably still here and the power is on as well! She had stopped at the dollar bakery before coming home
precisely so she could gift her youngest sibling ? who had a sweet tooth as strong as Barbara?s, and who she had
entrusted with the upkeep of her altar in her absence ? with his favorite honey rolls. As she stepped inside, she
felt her shoe skid on something and was barely able to keep her balance by throwing her shoulder against the near
wall. Chela looked down in dismay at the matted clumps of bloody feathers spread in an arc around the statue of
Elegba, and bit her lip to keep herself from cursing outright.
?Ki Loricha, Elegba,? she said in greeting to the Orisha, composing herself. Then speaking to no one in particular
she expounded on the source of her irritation and surprise. ?I know I told him several times that in my home
Elegba does not eat roosters,? she muttered, wiping off the bottom of her shoe on the baseboard.
?Chela,? responded a soft voice behind her, ? you know that you have been spoiling Him here ? it is not good to
get them used to human blood. What would happen if He had to go live with someone else who is not so
generous?? Chela turned, her anger already dissipating in anticipation of her brother?s embrace. When she saw
him, she dropped her packages, shocked at the sight of Tomás dressed in the white suit and cap of an iyawó ? an
adult in the process of being inducted formally into a house of Orisha. The boy, although already as tall as she,
was barely twelve years of age. How is it possible? It seems just yesterday that he was putting pepper in my
oatmeal, and stealing my bras and shoes for his ?fashion? shows. And who would train a little boy? I don?t have
the discipline to keep all the rules ? how can a child manage?
?This is a joke,? she stated numbly.
Tomás laughed, throwing back his head. ?Oh, Chela! So I have finally done something to surprise you! I hope
there was nothing that could break in those bags.?
?No,? whispered the still stunned young woman. ?I brought you some rolls ? in the smaller bag.? Tomás reached
down to pick up the treats.
?So it was for the best that they fell. I couldn?t take them from your hand now anyway.? Until the year long
period of novitiate in the santería house was ended, the boy would eschew physical contact with others, even
from the members of his blood family.
?Does Mamá know?? asked Chela quietly as she walked over to the bed and sat down. She must be out of her
mind: our family just seems to be expanding infinitely in degrees of ?social offensiveness.?
?Oh yes, she knows, Chela,? answered Tomás as he sat cross-legged on the floor before her. ?I?ve stayed here
the past few days. And tonight I will be going to stay at the house of Juan Sánchez for good? Chela,? the boy
looked down and shook his head in disbelief. ?She took me to Mazorra to see if they would hospitalize me. They
actually kept me for twenty-four hours of observation.? He laughed ruefully and looked up at her, his hazel eyes
twinkling. ?I am lucky that the conditions are so bad right now that they can?t take any more patients. You
should have seen Mamá when they told her that yes, I was a schizophrenic with the kinds of delusions common
to many blacks and Africans, but that unless I hurt someone I did not qualify for admission. She cried and cried
about how I was ruined - that I was already a ?butterfly? but now also a mad boy.?
Chela?s heart clenched at her brother?s words, as she imagined his ordeal in being taken to the psychiatric
hospital. She would have abandoned him there! And to have dwelt on what a disappointment he is to her ? he