| - 3 - |
|
| Dreaming of love was therefore a constant in her life, but a constant akin to her other fantasies, such as those of adventure and fame. She missed having a lover the way she missed being a decorated war hero or being a rock star. But now Chela had appeared and disrupted the statistical reasoning of her romantic universe: if the lottery was a tax on people too dim to understand the mathematical odds set against them, then the young Cuban woman was It, was the grand prize won off the random investment of an everyday dollar. And there were so many Chelas that she claimed as her winnings. She could still feel the caring beneath the correction as she recalled the Chela of the righteous outbursts and the wry proverbs. There was the Chela who gave herself in merriment, appreciating the fragility behind Barbara?s incessant clowning even as she let the peals of laughter fall like petals at the older woman?s feet. Chela teaching, showing her the Taíno drawings in the cave and the heavy chains - once worn by slaves - that were displayed on the walls of the Havana museum, but also Chela learning, carefully following the chart depicting the metabolism of methanol, the chemical formulas becoming transparent to her intellect under the guidance of the American physician. Chela in the very earliest light of this morning, the passion making her pupils seem as deep as the ocean as she looked up into Barbara?s eyes before dipping her face between her lover?s legs to taste a woman for the first time, and Chela in the night beneath her, sobbing out her climax in naked vulnerability, unashamed of the sweet words and the raw sounds that the pleasure drew out from her lips. And then there is that matter of how you can see everything that I am and go beyond tolerating me, beyond forgiving me. Holy fucking Christ, Chela. You love me. But, man. Stay here? She thought of the disheartened young physicians she had met at public health institutions across Havana and the eastern third of the island. I would have worked my ass off to play with the big boys for nothing! This epidemic study?s gonna hit across a dozen specialty journals on top of the generalist publications like JAMA, and I?m sitting in the catbird seat to negotiate first or second author position on half of those articles. But here, I won?t be able to save someone who has a simple bladder infection depending on what the government has managed to trade for all this sugar that feeds no one. Fuck. Fuck. All this friggin? dysentery and hepatitis because there?s no water purification chemicals left ? even in the fucking hospital. And it will be me someday, washing out my last pair of latex gloves, watching them grow thin and porous, until the day comes when I?m suturing bare-handed. I might as well have stayed on the street trying to staple people?s beer brawl cuts shut. But Chela?you love me. What the hell can I pull out of the hat for us? I am not ready for Fourth World medicine, but I am not ready to say goodbye to the first woman who has loved me to the tips of my very asshole-ish toes. Or would that be the tip of my very asshole-ish stern if I am a canoe? ~~~~~~ Barbara?s ears were ringing as she walked up behind the two dark women who were quietly chatting in the shade of a royal palm. ?Damn, Chela. See you beat me on that one. I had to beg Rogelio for two months before I got a moustache ride off of him.? Crap! thought Barbara as she overheard the stranger. I hope Chela?s not planning on lending me out! I barely survived last night! ?Later, Leti. I think I have an introduction to make,? cautioned Chela, who had sensed her lover?s approach. She looked up to see Barbara?s smiling face towering over her, and hesitated, unsure of how much affection the older woman would want to display in public. Barbara knelt by her side, reaching around to pull her into an embrace. ?Hey sweetie,? she whispered in English into Chela?s ear. ?Sorry I?m interrupting the debriefing session. Do we have any secrets left?? Chela laughed and cupped the American?s face with her hand, drawing her into a long devouring kiss that left the usually unflappable Leti uncomfortably looking for another place on which to focus her sight. ?My lover, I am just confirming the superior quality of certain imports over local products, even though it is not very revolutionary of me. Barbara, this is one of my oldest friend, Leti. Leti, Barbara.? ?My pleasure,? nodded Barbara, at the small dark woman, who was just a bit stockier than Chela, and who wore her thick, crinkly hair in a tight bun. ?Well, the pleasure is all Chela?s from what I understand, sexy American,? responded Leti in a picaresque tone. Barbara laughed as Chela once again employed her towel as a makeshift veil for her reddening face. ?Damn, Leti, you are such an animal about these things!? she chided, as she let Barbara settle on the ground behind her and felt her lover?s chin come to rest on her shoulder. ?I mean this with the utmost respect, Yanqui,? continued the boisterous Cuban. ?The compañera here is looking very healthy this morning.? ?Yeah, and Leti knows that you were looking healthy too,? chuckled Chela, letting the towel drop. ?You slept through her coming in to ogle you this morning.? ?I love Cuba!? exclaimed a very self-satisfied Barbara, leaning forward to lightly tickle Chela. ?And mami, your friend?s right ? I am good for your body. And I wouldn?t lie, I?m a doctor .? ?I?m going in to the water for a bit,? declared Chela, shaking off some sand and Barbara?s grasp as she scrambled to her feet. ?You two can sit here and humiliate me in my absence.? ?Ok!? replied Barbara good-naturedly to the younger woman?s back as she resolutely stomped towards the water. She found that she couldn?t take her eyes off of her, and sat in silence watching Chela bathe for several minutes until Leti gently intruded on her thoughts. ?You know, you can stay here again tonight if you like. I know what it is like in Havana where the walls are paper thin and everyone wants to hear, and the only people who give free rein to their pleasure are drunks and fools.? ?I wouldn?t want to impose on you, Leti,? answered Barbara with a smile. ?I could always take her to my hotel.? ?No,? said Leti firmly, shaking her head. ?That would be the worse place, first because that is the kind of place she has had to go so often when it was not about her desire, but also because that is the place where the worst of the tattle-tales are to be found. Everything here is collected and stored for one?s own purpose, American, including information. Now God made Cubans nosy, and I am not saying I won?t try to sneak down here myself and see if it is really true that you can bring her to her enjoyment so many times in one hour, but unless you screamed that you were here to assassinate Fidel while you were coming, I wouldn?t bother with the authorities. |
|
