HABÁNAME (Havana [Verb Transitive] Me) by Ana Ortiz Copyright © May 7, 2002 Ana Ortiz All Rights Reserved
Disclaimers: Not written for profit.  Several languages are used profanely. Consensual f/f eroticism. Thanks to Prof of XWL, and to Jessica Michallet for coming on board as beta-readers and editorial advisors for this story. Thanks to the Masked Punctuation Goddess. Thanks to OW for test driving this story. Note to readers: In scenes set in the United States, I use the convention of italicizing dialogue when ? in bilingual contexts ? characters choose to communicate in Spanish. In scenes set in Cuba, I invert that practice: when characters opt for the use of English in dialogue, it will be italicized. Aunque tú me has echado en el abandono Aunque tú has muerto todas mis ilusiones En vez de maldecirte con justo encono En mis sueños te colmo En mis sueños te colmo de bendiciones. Sufro la inmensa pena de tu extravío Siento el dolor profundo de tu partida Y lloro sin que sepas que el llanto mío Tiene lagrimas negras Tiene lagrimas negras, como mi vida. Tú me quieres dejar Yo no quiero sufrir Contigo me voy mi santa Aunque me cueste morir.  Miguel Matamoros, ?Lagrimas Negras?, (Used without permission.) Chapter 8: Listening to Matamoros Second week in April   In transit from Santo Domingo to La Habana Barbara reached across Cynthia to accept a cup of lukewarm juice from their Cubana stewardess. The young woman lacked the resolute surliness of the previous attendants she had encountered on the airline and Barbara wondered if she was new at the job. In any case, thought the troubled physician, she is not my enemy. She looked around the cabin, spotting the Cubans sprinkled in amongst the tourists. They were identifiable by their more sedate clothing and manner and the absence of vacation accoutrements.  Now I know, for some those expressions mask quiet relief upon approaching their homeland, for others quiet despair. And then there are those like me, masking both feelings. None of them are my enemies. Fuck, and I arrive on their soil like some dime store novel Mata Hari in service to the Feds. I?ve got vitamins in my friggin? luggage and betrayal in my head. I used to think it would be cool to be a spy. Secret Agent Man, although as a kid I thought that Johnny Rivers was singing ?Secret Asian Man? and I wondered how all that worked . I gotta remember: I am not trapped like a rat. Chela ? who is not my enemy ? will help me figure out what to do. Chela? She used her elbow to nudge the project manager, who had been silent for much of the journey ? her attention rooted in a stack of printouts detailing the composition and projected efficacy of the micro-nutrient ?cocktails? the two women had developed over the past two weeks. ?Ummm?? grunted Cynthia. She looked up at her colleague and could see plainly etched on her features a blend of weariness, apprehension and pain. My, but she has grown up working on this project, which is a good thing in some ways. But I do miss the joking, bubbly, irreverent individual who came onto this enterprise with me. I didn?t think I would. ?What?s up, Barb?? The other woman sighed, her eyes dropping to her hands. ?Cynthia, you offered a while back to help me out in my relationship with Chela Stevens. This is tough for me to ask because it?s in my nature to be a workaholic, but I?m asking you for time, any time that you can cut us. And if there?s any way you can push my ticket back that would be good too.? Cynthia took off her glasses and set them atop the papers on her table top. Barbara watched in fascination as the other woman reached over and rested her hand over the physician?s. Crap, I must look whipped and pathetic. This is getting to be a regular thing for us. ?Barbara, I wish I could do something about the length of your stay here, but our visas expire May fifth. In terms of time from the project, yes, I can cut you some slack. You?ve worked your heart out for us and with magnificent results. We?ve already arrested the onset of new cases from methanol poisoning and may be able to have an impact on some of the other precipitating events. And of those 51,000 who ultimately made it onto the patient rolls, we may be able to reverse the neurological damage for those with limited or recent exposure to toxins. To use your language, you are a ?friggin? hero,? and you deserve anything I can do for you. Don?t feel shy about asking.? ?In that case,? replied a relieved Barbara, ?could you do one more thing? Could you put some distance between me and Alex López? I find him too offensive for words. I?m pretty sure I?m just gonna kill him by accident one of these days.? Cynthia chuckled and shook her head slightly. ?Not a problem. He?s actually shipping out tomorrow, and I?m not at all sorry to see him go. He?s incredible, isn?t he? I wouldn?t have assigned him to your Pinar Del Río trip if my patience hadn?t been exhausted. It isn?t just his lack of social skills where the Cubans are involved ? he was driving me crazy with his self-centered obsession with shopping. When I had him working with me we would have to stop at every record store and stall set up by itinerant music vendors to search for something his grandmother in Miami wanted. The greatest hits by the Mattmoors or something.?